#rotates him in my mind all day all night
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eldritch lucifer save me... eldritch lucifer.....save me eldritch lucifer
#checks clock#it is 5 am and the lil fuckers (losquitos) are NOT letting me go in peace#on a side note i really want to see the show delve deeper into the biblical horror aspects of lucifer.....#which is unlikely but one can still hope akzjhd#like sir maam that is a being that transcends human comprehension#something something about traditional depictions of angels#ahhh so many thoughts#i like him weird and offputting ur honor#and always seeming juuust a little out of space#is that my audhd talking? absolutely jsbdhdv but it would be really cool to ser how a literal ageless old as shit entity like him process#mundane things like the passing of time#or being confronted to a plethora of cultures / languages#!!!! would he have trouble keeping up with slang bc of his isolation...#add that to his actual bouts of dissociation and#alright cant hear the lil fuckers anymore time to eep#flakes says something#rotates him in my mind all day all night#ughhhh
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I was thinking about the trope of characters gaining weight to indicate healing/character growth, and I realized how well that would fit Shen Qingqiu
Qing Jing Peak's food is apparently bland, and I doubt Shen Jiu was eating for the joy of it. He probably only ate enough to keep himself alive and supplemented it with inedia, so the guy was probably pretty gaunt under all those layers of robes. Then Shen Yuan shows up and in very quick succession gets a fantasy chronic illness and access to The Protagonist's Cookingâ˘ď¸ and gets to live a pretty spoiled life for several years. He probably keeps himself relatively fit to retain the peak lord image, but he definitely gains some weight in the years following his transmigration. His face filling out probably worked wonders when it comes to softening his image compared to Shen Jiu's rather severe presence. Luo Binghe, with his trauma with regards to food insecurity, probably thrived getting to see his Shizun looking well fed and healthy
And then the Immortal Alliance Conference and everything that came after it. As much as he'd like to deny it, he is fucking Depressedâ˘ď¸ after all that. What's the point of eating Qing Jing's bland food when he doesn't have the protagonist's cooking anymore? So he returns to Shen Jiu's pattern of inedia
Can you imagine how Luo Binghe felt seeing how skinny his Shizun became in his absence? And of course, that gaunt version of Shen Qingqiu is the one whose corpse he preserved for five years, stuck in that hungry state. It doesn't escape me that he was always bringing a meal to corpsezun's bedside so on the off chance that he came back, the first thing he could do was eat Binghe's cooking
Basically what I'm saying is if you compare post-canon bingqiu to their PIDW counterparts, the most striking difference on first glance is that Bingge and Shen Jiu are skinny and rangy and miserable, and Bingmei and Shen Yuan are happy and healthy and well fed
#svsss#i love the headcanons that bingge is shorter and skinnier than bingmei bc of the neglect during his teen years#he's got like. that dehydrated mcu superhero build.#meanwhile bingmei (especially post canon when things calm down) definitely gains some weight#bc he's able to chill out and cook for himself and shizun#and shizun likes to see him happy and eating well and who is he to deny shizun?#and i think the same is true for the versions of sqq#shen jiu is a deeply miserable man. i doubt he was taking good care of himself#the skinny gaunt look added to his Resting Villain Face#meanwhile shen yuan is a spoiled millennial who loves binghe's cooking#he definitely gains some weight! i think this is a good thing for him!#im going to be rotating this in my mind all day#this thought occurred to me while i was falling asleep last night#and i had to stop myself from bolting upright and writing this post right then and there
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I love the sims 2 because it will completely wreck your shit right when youâre least expecting it
#iâll set the scene for you: iâm doing the prosperity challenge (basically a challenge where you create a number of completely randomised#families and you play them in rotation. rules vary but generally the goal is to make all your sims as successful as possible#and itâs meant to add some variety and drama to the game)#so iâve played through the first four families which were all some variation of either grandparents or teenagers looking after kids#just because thatâs how my rolls fell. so i got to the last house which was just one adult man and i was like okay.#i JUST need an heir out of him. just ONE. and things were going great! he already had a boyfriend (the random uncle of the first family#i played realllly liked him and i was like âthis might as well happenâ) so i had them try for baby. then his dream job (slacker lol)#came up in the newspaper on the FIRST DAY and he kept getting promoted! i also had him adopt a stray dog i thought was cute#his pregnancy went unbelievably well. he only passed out while eating one time. i allowed myself to be lulled into a false sense of security#and then mans â¨WOKE UP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND GAVE BIRTH TO QUADRUPLETSâ¨#look this is honestly on me for downloading the triplets and quads mod. i donât even know why i do it. just for the risk factor?#regardless there was only a 3% chance for this and yet it STILL happened. on the first birth in the neighbourhood no less!!!!!#bear in mind this man is living in a 2 bedroom starter home; has one paycheque (GROCERY STORE CLERK) AND heâs just spent a bunch of money#on his new dog. and we canât exactly sell the dogâs stuff because itâs essentials#i managed to find the money for 4 cribs and a nanny fucking Somehow. and then carnage ensued#i donât think this man bathed for 3 days. i got the dog a job and then realised it got weekends off so wouldnât be going#aging them all up into toddlers aged ME. i think theyâre technically classified as some being a day older than the others but idc#iâll rectify it at the next birthday. or at one of their birthdays anyway#it was just SO messy. next rotation should be better though??? i had him marry the kidsâ other father (who is an elder so will probably be#around approximately 5 minutes) who bought in exactly ÂŁ5 but at least thereâs an extra person to change diapers and get bottles#i see a lot of nannies in these kidsâ future i fear#personal
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Got Me Snoring
A/N: One of my favorite things inspired by all the Ghost/KĂśnig cosplayer TikToks using that one, song audio. Summary: Ghost admits getting head is boring. Reader isn't happy with that idea and goes about changing his mind. T/W: NS/FW 18+ Only, blowjobs, deepthroating, size kink if you squint, spit?, cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and it's been a long ass time since I've written full-on smut.
âAll Iâm sayinâ is that if she calls again, Iâm not about to answer.â Soapâs voice carried from the living space of the hotel room to the kitchenette where you stood microwaving some rice from a convenience store down the street.
After-mission talk always leads to the most strange conversations. Maybe the adrenaline or the high of getting almost killed got everyone in a talking mood. However as the Captain slid behind you to go grab more ice outside in the hallway, you couldnât help but shoot him a questioning look. Theyâd been talking about their previous accomplishments and failures in the bedroom for nearly twenty minutes, and thankfully theyâd not roped you into the ridiculous conversation but with the Captain leaving out of the room, it drew their eyesight right to you standing patiently for your instant rice to finish cooking.
âWhat about you, huh?â Gaz was the one to poke a little. âHave any horror stories from the bedroom?â His eyebrows raised in mischievous curiosity as all three men sat staring at you with great intent.
âIâve faked it plenty of times.â You reply offhandedly, waving a hand at them and going back to staring at the small plastic cup rotating around in the microwave.
You overheard the men pass through the moment of silence with low laughs, most noticeably, Ghost. Whoâd apparently found something very funny and decided to grace everyone with the sound of deep and resounding chuckles. With a gloved hand, you take out your food and rejoin them in the room, finding a spot on the corner of one of the beds and crossing your legs to hold the bowl while you watch and listen to more of their recounted stories.
Soap complained more about the one night heâd met up with one of the most beautiful women heâd ever met, and drank himself into oblivion to try and ease his nerves. The only problem was, that when he finally had enough liquid courage to make a move, he couldnât get it up. Even watching him recount the tale now, you could see his embarrassment. You couldnât imagine just how beautiful that woman had to be for Soap to give himself whiskey-dick so bad that to this day he regretted the memory and undoubtedly wished he could take it back. Gaz got pressured into retelling the story of the woman he met in Russia just for you since youâd never heard it; Detailing just how sheâd been absolutely obsessed with him right from the get-go.
She couldnât stop fawning over his accent and just how downright good-looking he was. Gaz on the other hand felt very embarrassed and never really tried to take things further on that trip. Fortunately for him, on a trip back a few months later for pleasure, he ran into the woman again and this time around she wasnât going to take no for an answer. Soap and Ghost laughed, poking fun at how utterly exhausted Garrick was when he met up with them in London. His shit-eating grin was more than enough for them to surmise that his little Russian vixen had taken him for a hell of a ride.
Then there was Ghost.
He didnât have much to say in the way of his own successes, but did share one or two small comparisons with the other two as they kept pulling out detail after detail about the many people theyâd met over the years and how they either felt theyâd left their mark⌠or totally fucking missed it. All of it came to a very interesting topic that you suddenly became very interested in when Ghost uttered one single statement that left your mouth hanging open and staring at him almost in disbelief.
âI donât like someone blowinâ my cock,â his voice sounded flat. Totally unbothered and nearly sleeping at the idea. âNever cared much for it when half doesnât fit.â
You couldnât help but insert yourself into the conversation after a long hour or so of sitting like a viewer at a movie. âWait a second⌠You mean to tell me you donât like getting head because you're too big?â The gasp in your tone was obvious, and even Soap and Gaz looked at him a little strangely as if they didnât truly believe the idea either. It gave you a bit more reassurance in your belief that almost all men enjoyed it. Sure, there was the odd chance that Ghost just didnât like it at all, but you really wanted to hear his explanation if heâd give you one.
The Lieutenant turned to look at you and nodded stiffly. âYeah, âbout always puts me to sleep.â
It was at this point you felt the slightest urge to tell him heâd never had someone give him a legitimately good blowjob before. But before you could even say something to the contrary, a thought crossed your mind. Ghost didnât seem like the kind of man who attracted ill-experienced women. Especially when he had already proven throughout the evening that his previous encounters were much more interesting and expansive than even that of yourself. Something a bit⌠jealous rose inside of you at the thought.
Imagining your Lieutenant laying on his back and hardly making any sort of sound while someone pulls out every single trick in their arsenal to make a blowjob somewhat entertaining or arousing. You didnât necessarily profess yourself to have a crush on Ghost, due to just how grey the line between operators and anything felt when you spent so much time together under high-stress environments. There was bound to be some level of emotional attachment that devolved pastâŚÂ professional. And for whatever it was, knowing that Ghost had such a bad opinion on the receiving end of pleasure became a challenge you wanted to overcome.
About that time, Price returned with half-melted ice and a half-smoked cigar hanging between his lips.
âFinished talking about chasinâ tail yet?â He grumbled, walking past the group of you still sitting around each other like a bunch of kids getting caught staying up late by Dad at a sleepover. âWanna go to fuckinâ sleep.â
He dropped the ice bucket down on the dresser with a little thud before settling himself down on the pull-out couch with his hat covering his eyes and both arms resting behind his head with that cigar still puffing smoke rings into the air. Ghost was the first to stand up, making his way out of the hotel room without as much as a comment about when heâd be back or where he was going. Your eyes trailed over his shoulders tapering into a slim waist before giving way again to thick and muscular thighs enhanced by all of gear still strapped to his body. His kit did leave a lot to the imagination. And god did your mind start to wander as both Soap and Gaz began winding down, settling themselves down to sleep for the night or at least lay somewhere quietly so the Captain didnât lose any more of his patience and kick someone out or force them to pay for their own room. Not nearly tired enough with all of the questions and thoughts about Ghost now floating through your mind, you didnât care the least bit about laying down or pretending not to care about the fact of the matter and headed out of the hotel room after the Lieutenant as Soap turned out the final lamp in the corner of the room.
The air was a bit cold outside without your jacket, breath materializing in front of you in light wisps of fog with every exhale as you looked down both ends of the hallway hoping to see some sign of where Ghost mightâve gone to. Down on the far left side, a larger cloud of smoke blew past the breezeway entrance and you knew right away that Ghost would be at the end of it. And when your eyes peeked around the corner, you werenât the least bit surprised to see him with a shoulder resting up against the wall; his back to you with enough of his mask pulled up so that he could smoke a cigarette. The sweet vanilla and cherry smell hit you like a wall, reminding you that Ghost preferred rolling his own cigarettes and used pipe tobacco instead of buying packs of anything else.
Leaves no trace behindâŚÂ Heâd explained without prompting one night after noticing that youâd been watching him.
âFollowinâ me now?â His voice heavy with smoke and unhindered by his mask landed directly on you, not even needing to turn around to know you were the one tailing after him.
âCouldnât let you freeze to death alone.â You reply with a little smile, taking it as your chance to go ahead and walk -slowly- over to him giving him the privacy to smoke without needing to fuss with keeping his face covered.
By standing just at his back leaning against the wall, he knew right where you were, and it put the weight of conversation on him for the moment. He gave you a gruff sort of sound and took another drag off his cigarette before turning just far enough to offer it to you. You take it from his gloved fingers carefully, licking your lips a little in slight nervousness. This wasnât the first time heâd offered you a hit, but it was the first time youâd ever actually taken him up on it. Seeing the damp rolling paper on the end made you shiver a little; Hopefully, the cold weather would be a good enough excuse to keep him from recognizing your sudden anxiety around him. Wrapping your lips around it and inhaling, youâre a little more than guilty for noticing the taste of Ghost instead of the vanilla and cherry. With a quick glance to your side, you saw his mask was pulled back down over his mouth and his dark eyes were focused right on you as you blew the smoke out of your mouth and back in through your nose. Attempting to hand it back, he just shakes his head.
âYou didnât come out here to be cold,â He finally broke the silence. âWhatâd you really want from me?â
No matter how long you spent around Ghost, you never got used to just how miserably direct Ghost could be. Like nothing was truly surprising to him or worth being the least bit delicate over. Even if it concerned someone -like yourself- at least attempting to be a little more discretionary. Yet you sighed and took another drag before tossing the rest of it down on the concrete, putting out the ember with the toe of your boot.
âWere you lying earlier?â Your question falls a little short of confident, giving Ghost the impression right away that you were nervous. For a split second, you thought you saw the phantom of a smile under the cover of his mask before it was quickly hidden back under late-night shadow and white paint. Ghost put his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and gave a sigh, making more fog swirl around and through the woven material around his mouth. Another thought of what his mouth looked like flashed through your failing mind.
âWhy would it matter?â
You licked at your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to word this without sounding desperate or downright shameless in front of your commanding officer⌠you shouldn't be thinking about doing this in the first place. So many more bad outcomes could come of this than the one good one. Even then, it was risky. Leaving you a bit dazed and staring at Ghost.
âAsked you a question. Iâm expectinâ an answer.â He pressed forward, a slight swagger in his hips as he got closer to you, resting a hand on the wall and tilting his head a little to the side. Damn near mocking you for being so much smaller and easily intimidated. You look down at your boots for a moment, deciding to just put your money where your mouth is and take the hit no matter the outcome.
âIf you werenât lyingâŚâ You look up, internally screaming at how heavy his eyes look down on you. âIâd like to try and change your mind.â
A deep chuckle comes from the Lieutenant in response followed by his heavy hand resting on your shoulder, almost totally engulfing it.
âYouâre jokinâ,â His voice lowered with humor that made you almost shrivel up and die inside. âWhy would I let you do that?â You give a frustrated sigh and take a step back away from Ghost. Mentally and physically distancing yourself from the slight Ghost had given you by accident or otherwise.
âNever mind.â You give a short nod and turn on your heel to head back to the hotel room and find somewhere to curl up on the floor or in a bed with someone and try to sleep off your damaged ego.
Yet five steps away from Ghost, youâre stopped short with his arm snaked around your waist tightly and his mouth resting against your ear with a heavy and hot breath fanning against your neck. His palm spreads over your stomach and squeezes almost aggressively at the soft flesh under your shirt. Tall and wide, Ghost yanks your back flush to his chest as a silent threat.
âDonât fuckinâ walk away from me,â His low growl makes you shiver. âIâm not finished with ya.â
In an instant, youâre spun around and hauled aggressively with your back against the nearest wall with Ghostâs chest holding you from fighting back. His legs limit your ability to try and escape out from under his arms, and while one hand is flat against your chest, the other restricts both your wrists above your head. Breath evacuates your lungs with the sudden shock of your back against the wall, but your eyes are locked on Ghostâs as he glares at you harshly through the wavering mist of his breath in the cold air.
âNow Iâve got you pacifiedâŚâ His smirk was clear in tone, outright mocking you by pressing those massive thighs tighter against yours. âLetâs continue shall we?â The gloved hand pressed against your heaving chest slides up to grasp firmly at your chin and jerk it up to look him in the eyes.
âWhy donât you be a good little thing and tell me why you think you could change my mind, and maybe⌠I wonât punish you for talkinâ shit to your superior officer.â He spat loudly, his face less than an inch from yours, eyes flaming with aggression.
âSorry LieutenantâŚâ You mutter stiffly through the struggle of his hand against your jaw. âThought I could do better.â You add a lot weaker, averting your eyes as far from Ghost as you can.
âWhat was that?â He made dark fun of you, terribly obvious, and downright happy with himself. âSay it again.â
You squirm in his grasp, only to get your wrists slid up higher on the wall and a thigh shoved between your own to lift your feet almost totally off the ground. Toes tapping the ground, Ghost holds you totally of his own power without the slightest effort needed to keep you held right where he wanted you to be.
âThought I could do better.â You repeat yourself louder, and more clearly, feeling utterly stupid for enduring such pathetic treatment. Only you knew it was your fault for letting such a pipe dream of an idea come to reality by prodding Ghost about his sex life so confidently. The masked man hummed lowly, tilting his head as he inspected your face lighted only by a small sliver of moonlight creeping around the corner of the hallway.
âBetter, huh?â Ghost chuckles darkly, this thumb tracing over the bottom curve of your lip carefully. âThatâs a lot of confidence for someone so small.â
You canât help but roll your eyes. âSize has nothing to do with it.â
Ghost barks laughter, grumbling something under his breath before dropping his hand away from your jaw and releasing one of your hands to press against his groin. You canât miss his meaning from the massive erection pressing back against your hand and twitching impatiently when your Lieutenant squeezes your hand around it tighter. A growl escapes his throat and he looks up at you with almost evil eyes.
âStill think size doesnât matter, little one?â He questions, one eyebrow raising above the hemline of his mask.
Your mouth falls open in shock. Not only because of the sheer girth of Ghostâs cock pulsing in your hand but realizing that he was actually taking your proposal seriously no matter how aggressive his mockery of you was. It shouldnât have been so damn surprising when taking into account just how large of a man Ghost is. Surely everything would be proportionate, and his erection was proof of it.
Your face is enough to make Ghost chuckle. âThatâs what I thoughtâŚâ
Itâs enough of a dismissal that thaws your speechlessness and throws you right back into the present with enough of the guts to speak up for your own desires.
âI can do it,â You blurt breathlessly, fingers tracing along the curve of Ghostâs dick and earning a lusty growl from him. âI can make it good. Iâll make it fit.â You nod your head feverishly in an attempt to keep your chance open. Ghostâs eyes widen at your desperation and his cock twitches hard in your palm with the sound of your shallow breaths and pleading eyes.
âYou want it, huh?â He questions, mask moving like heâs grinning under it.
âThen get on your fuckinâ knees.â
The moment his hands release you, you feel yourself sliding down the wall until your knees make a bruising thud against the concrete floor in front of Ghost. Your hands holding on his thighs without the slightest care that you were standing in the middle of a hotel breezeway where anyone could see you. A weight settled in your lower stomach with the idea of anyone coming out of their room and witnessing such a sight.
âMy belt.â Ghost instructs a bit pinched, looking down at you with his chin almost touching his chest.
Youâre frantic yet shaking as your hands slide up his thighs and begin pulling his belt loose, hearing that metallic clink as you pull the two sides apart with a watering mouth. No instruction is necessary for you to know where to go next, and as you unbutton his cargo pants, your free hand palms his cock as you pull down just enough of his waistband to expose him but not make him cold. Ghostâs hands help just a little, settling extra material where he prefers it, almost patiently holding up his own hoodie and t-shirt out of your way as you slid your hands under his boxers.
âFuckâŚâ Ghost mutters quietly, tensing when your fingers wrap around his base and free him from his underwear.
Your thumb smears over his swollen head soft enough to not make him jerk away with sensitivity, and you lick your lips at just how wet his cock already is from sheer anticipation. Hell, you were turned on too, practically dripping in your underwear at the sight of Ghost with nothing but a perfect dick exposed and ready for your mouth. The first lick is a teasing one. Flattening it over his head just because you couldnât wait to taste him, gathering up his arousal, and making it a point to swallow with your eyes locked right on Ghostâs. You're certain itâs enough to affect him just by the way he grunts and rests both of his hands against the wall behind you to steady himself.
When your lips wrap around his tip and slide down towards his base slowly, you hollow your lips and suck hard. Almost mimicking drinking through a straw with both hands wrapped around his thick base to restrict blood flow, adding to his sensitivity. You feel his feet flex in his boots next to your thighs and another low grunt. It spurs you forward, sinking down further and massaging your tongue on the underside before raising back up to lick at his frenulum and repeating the process with quiet whines each time heâs unable to hold back some sound.
âShit-â He hisses after no more than a couple of minutes, jerking his hips back away from you and moving your hands out of the way so he could tighten his own fist around his cock with a heaving chest.
He stays like that for a few moments, undoubtedly trying to stave off the pleasure youâd been giving before his eyes meet yours again and theyâre downright hungry and raging with fury that youâd brought him so close without any extra fancy moves or those fake moans that porn always showed. With one quick movement, he stepped closer and tilted your head back until it gently rested against the wall behind you, his cock smearing your own spit and his arousal over your open and awaiting mouth.
âYou look pretty like thisâŚâ He muttered, rubbing his length over your face and tapping it teasingly against your mouth. âYou hungry for more?â Youâre sticking out your tongue and nodding right away, earning you a tense chuckle and the feeling of Ghostâs dick sliding into your mouth while his hand cushions the back of your head from the wall.
âLet me feed it to ya,â He grunts. âShove my fat cock in your mouth and fuck your throat..â He adds with a feral sort of sound mixing with an ever-thickening accent.
You moan around his length, feeling your jaw muscles begin to start aching when your nose just barely grazes his pubic bone and his tip touches the back of your throat. Heâs thick enough to qualify as the largest youâve ever experienced, but youâre not the slightest bit concerned about whether heâll be able to fit. You know heâll make it fit if nothing else.
And him utterly pounding your throat sounded so hot that you tried pushing further down on his shaft yourself. Eager to feel Ghost as deep in you as possible. Ghost obliges you, and rocks his hips forward slowly, easing his thick head past that ring of pressure at the back of your throat and cursing under his breath when a wet, gurgling sound vibrates around his shaft as you begin swallowing around him.
âBloody, fuucckk yesâŚâ His groans punch through the quiet air, far louder than he should be risking in such a public space. But heâs only getting started with this experience as your nose presses against his pubic bone, and his hand flattens against the wall.
âSo tight⌠dogginâ me right where anyone can see.â
Itâs the thought that had you so eager, and right away you felt just how much it turned Ghost on too. Because the second he said it, he pulled back just a fraction and pushed himself back down your throat, beginning tight and quick thrusts that made your eyes roll back. He kept a furious pace, growling and holding tight to the back of your head until you tapped at the back of his thigh a few times, and he pulled out with a loud grunt, giving you a moment to breathe. You panted, seeing a thick web of spit connecting your mouth and his tip before watching it break and drip down your shirt.
Youâre about to tell Ghost⌠something. But you instantly lose thought of it when heâs bent down with his mask rucked up just far enough to smash his mouth to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth and practically eating you from the inside out. You can still taste the salty edge of his skin, and itâs almost heady to have his mouth mingling with yours and sharing his arousal between soft moans and heavy breaths. The kiss is long and feverish, but not near long enough before heâs standing back up and stroking his fist up and down his cock right in front of you like an unreal kind of dream somehow coming to life.
âPlease.â You mutter a bit hoarse from the rough treatment of your throat, totally unsure of what you really want most. Between his mouth, words, and dick thereâs so much more than just one you desired, but at least one of them needed to be delivered to you to attempt satisfaction.
âOpen up, little oneâŚâ Ghost whispers face re-masked already, and it makes you whine pathetically, having naively believed heâd allow you just one glimpse at the mouth youâd just tasted. âNeed to have more of you.â Youâre totally happy to resign by leaning your head back against the wall with your tongue wetting your lips in the cold air.
Ghost starts painfully slow, holding your head on both sides of your jaw and teasing his head against your tongue and the textured roof of your mouth; indiscernible words falling from his mouth and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. You wouldâve thought it was nothing more than your Lieutenant just taking his pleasure as offered. But the way his thumbs brushed over your cheeks and his fingers would occasionally rub over the stretched muscles in your jaw gave you the feeling that he was well aware of what you were surrendering to him. As well as how thankful he was to have you on your knees, and looking so fucking angelic swallowing and spitting on his dick like a dirty little whore.
âLet me - WannaâŚâ His rising breaths and steady strokes begin to falter the longer he thrusts inside your mouth, meticulously avoiding forcing himself deeper in disappointment; resulting in your whining and muffled complaints and pleasure. Had his hands not been purposefully holding you back to prolong the session, Ghost probably wouldnât have lasted this long.
âP-patienceâŚâ His stammer made your chest clench in satisfaction. âDonât - donât wanna finish in your mouthâŚâ. That breathy comment nearly struck you stiff as concrete.
You couldnât believe that after this entire ordeal, Ghost was actually trying to end a blowjob without you finishing it the way you honestly believed it should always end. With you swallowing every last fucking drop that the Lieutenant gave you; wearing a goddamn smile bigger than anyone has ever seen. If he hadnât been lying and head never impressed him, there wasnât a chance in Hell you were going to let him finish anywhere that wasnât down your throat. In a split second, you were shaking your head no and pulling back off his cock with a slight gasp.
âNo, finish.â Itâs the most demanding and certain youâve sounded all night. âFinish in my mouth, Ghost.â
His eyes say it all.
Theyâre wide with his pupils blown at impressive dimensions and his thick eyelashes flutter as his shocked expression forces him to blink over and over again to make sense of you. Mouth and chin covered in spit, on your knees, and literally begging him to come in your mouth.
âGoddamn, youâre so fucking filthyâŚâ He mutters aloud, watching intently as you slide back down over him one more time and begin doing what you wanted to from the very beginning.
Bring Ghost to his knees.
Itâs a moment before you have him cursing and holding onto the wall with both hands again as you push deeper and deeper until you're teasing the tip of your nose against him yet again. Unwilling to let him pull you off this time or prolong this. Deserving this release was the bare minimum. Not only did you want to provide him ultimate pleasure where no one else had, but you enjoyed every single bit of it. You needed this as much -if not more- than Ghost.
Heavy and twitching in your mouth, Ghost was teetering on the edge of his orgasm with stuttering hips and one hand sliding down to rest on your head. Not pushing this time, just laying at the crown like your movements were too much to feel with only one part of his body. Short pants were cut short by unintelligible words and strained attempts to say what you already knew.
As if giving your final approval of the idea Ghost had found unacceptable, you push him as deep as you could one final time; Hearing his loud shout echo down the breezeway as both of his hands grabbed harshly onto the sides of your head. Pumping stream after stream of his hot release down your throat you moaned deeply, feeling him gently rock his hips against your face as he rode down his high on shaky legs. You gagged a little as he pulled out, feeling your throat begin to burn in an unfamiliar way that had never followed you sharing a moment like this with another man. Only one look at Ghostâs cock right in front of your face was more than enough to reassure you heâd just been the one who gave you enough of a delicious stretch to feel for days to come.
Your eyes met his and a small little shy smile crossed your sore lips, contrasting the absolutely deplorable -and punishable- act youâd ever committed with a superior officer. Wordlessly Ghost tucked himself back into his underwear and neglected to button his pants back up before dropping to a knee right in front of you and pulling up his mask again to brush his lips against yours.
âWant to taste,â He whispered ever-so-softly, hands holding your head gently.
âNeed to taste me inside your mouth.â He added, licking your lips before closing the distance between you for a second time. This kiss was still intense. Ghost controlling the pace and just how much dominance you had, which nearly came to zero when he licked into your mouth, groaning shamelessly. He could taste his release coating your mouth as he utterly overwhelmed you with kisses, licks, bites, and more moans that fell like honey on your ears.
You were the first to pull back for a gasp of air youâd gone full minutes without, feeling your own mouth and body beginning to feel a little weak with exhaustion not typical of a well-conditioned soldier like yourself. Your Lieutenant took note right away and rested his head against yours reassuringly, his nose touching yours.
âYouâre too cold to be out here like this.â He whispered, pulling your cheek affectionately and wrapping the other arm around you. âNot gonna let you freeze after that.â He chuckled a bit sluggishly, kissing you again long and chaste.
He pulled his mask back down and gave very little effort to pick you up off your knees and into his arms without question or hesitation. Leaving you feeling like a treasured prize heâd won and refused to let out of his sight for more than a moment. Safe and protected, you couldnât care one bit about the cold nipping through your thin clothes and resting your head against Ghostâs shoulder as he carried you back to the hotel room the 141 had already retired for the night in.
Expertly avoiding Soap and Gaz laying on couch cushions on the floor and covered with extra bedsheets, sliding around Priceâs bed without bumping it, all while carrying you Ghost sat you down on the edge of the bed heâd been keen to claim as his own right when youâd arrived. You were nearly asleep just sitting there when he unlaced your boots enough to tug them off, pulled your shirt off over your head, and replaced it with one of his hoodies. Finally, he takes off your pants and nods for you to move up to the top of the bed, acting just as he would normally. But as he climbed into the bed next to you and tugged you back against him tightly, you realized youâd gotten a lot more than you bargained for.
Sure you mightâve changed Ghostâs mind about getting head⌠but you werenât finished yet. Because Ghost was curling his arm around your waist and burying his masked face in between your shoulder blades like cuddling with you at night was the usual way of things. His fingers innocently traced the waistband of your underwear, and he radiated body heat that melted away the fringe sensations of cold on your body easily.
âIâve made a decision,â He whispers very quietly so as not to wake the others. And you wiggle back a little closer to him, nodding your head as a silent acknowledgment for him to go on. Expecting him to say that you did -in fact- change his mind about getting blown.
âYouâre mine now.â
Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated
#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#cod#cod mwii#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#velvetures writes#velvetures
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Hannie's đ fixation
Han/f!reader, friends who do something sexual...by accident...? nah, Han is a boob guy and wants to put his mouth to good use
ADULTS ONLY, MDNI, I don't want teenagers reading my NSFW posts
Since meeting Han, your friendship has been touchy-feely.
Maybe itâs because youâre both introverts who like quality time rather than chatting. Maybe itâs because your love languages are both physical touch.
Either way, a night in at your place watching anime is completely normal. Laying side by side in your bed, both scrolling on your phones, not even paying attention to the plot of the show youâve both seen a dozen times.
No one has spoken in, like, an hour but itâs honestly so nice you donât even care.
Han giggles and lays his phone against his chest, covering his bare face as it turns red.
âWhatâs so funny?â you ask, nudging him.
âAhhhh, I need this,â he says, turning his phone toward you. Itâs a picture of a blonde girl wearing a crop top that reads "Had a bad day? You can play with my boobs."
"This would make literally everything better," he chuckles, looking at you expectantly-- in his head heâs waiting for a giggle or a funny reaction, not for what you actually say.
"Good thing I have a perfectly good pair of tits right here," you blurt without thinking.
"Really?!" he asks excitedly, dropping his phone as he rotates toward you, now laying on his side facing you instead of on his back. His eyes are so bright and excited, and his hand is already sliding up your torso-- how could you say no?
"Yeah," you say softly, shrugging. "I don't mind. We're friends,â you add on, becoming less sure as you talk. âI trust you."
"This is the best day of my life," he says as one of his hands cups one of your breasts and squeezes gently. "Oh-- is this your nipple?" he asks, walking his fingers back a couple of inches until two press down over your half-hard bud.
"Yes," you confirm, laughing softly. Your face warms up, all the way down your chest. You hope he doesnât notice given that his eyes are so entranced on your chest.
"It's so cute," he coos, pressing your shirt down flat so your nipple pokes against it. Before you can formulate a thought, he's reaching over to your other boob, squeezing and feeling carefully until he finds your other nipple. It perks up in interest as he touches it, and your breath hitches in your throat when he starts very purposefully flicking his finger back and forth, trying to perk it up.Â
"Aw, come on," he mumbles to himself. "It was hard and then it got soft again."
Probably because I'm starting to get flustered and trying to be calm, you think but don't tell him.
He pinches your sensitive bud between his fingers and rolls harshly, sending a very intense and quick shock through you. You bite your lip to stop a noise from escaping. Your heart rate is increasing and your skin is becoming much more sensitive to his touch. And he smells so goodâŚ
I'm so pathetic. He's barely been touching me a minute and it's making me horny.
"Ahh, there we go," he says happily now that your nipple is distinct through your t-shirt. You watch as a thought crosses his mind, making his eyebrows furrow slightly as his bottom lip pouts.Â
Then he leans down, swiftly sucking your nipple through your shirt.
"Ahhhh," you moan, finally unable to hold it in. You grab fistfuls of your blankets in an effort to keep your hands to yourself. Somehow touching him, even just playing with his hair, would make this far more real than it already is.
"I was wondering when you'd make noise," he says, looking up at you with the most innocent eyes. Then he goes back, sucking you through your shirt while he gets his other hand up and onto your other tit as he turns and half lays on you, working his way until his legs and hips are between your thighs.
He kneads and squishes one boob while sucking the other nipple. Half of this is what you expected him to do-- maybe touch and hold your boobs for a minute or so and then laugh it off. You didnât expect this. Not him soaking a wet patch through the front of your shirt.
Not one of his hands sneaking under your blanket to find the bottom hem.
Not him yanking your shirt up to your collarbones, breathing a soft "wow" while his sparkly eyes take in the sight of your naked chest.
"Hannie," you say with an unsure tone, but he either doesn't hear you or ignores it. Instead he leans in once more and kisses your nipple. He drags his soft lips against your bare skin and breathes in the smell of you. You're so warm against his cheek and he feels completely lost in the selfish pleasure of playing with you.
âDoes it feel good?â he asks, twisting both of your nipples between his fingers. He pouts as he waits for your response, clearly wanting you to say yes.
You nod shyly and pull the collar of your shirt up to hide the bottom part of your face.
He beams up at you, then laughs and pulls your shirt back down.
âHey, donât hide from me. I want to see you.â He licks a circle around your burningly sensitive nipple. âAnd hear you,â he adds, sucking your nipple into his mouth.
You moan softly, cautiously reaching one hand up to rest on his back. He hums and flicks his tongue then releases your nipple with a pop.
âThis really is the best,â he says, giving your other nipple equal treatment. He once again lets go with a dramatic pop.
âThis is my favorite thing weâve ever done.â
He switches back again but goes faster, sucks harder, making himself out of breath as he ravenously indulges in your chest.
âFuck, your tits are so hot, baby.â
âMmm,â you whine softly, turning your head away and covering your face slightly.
âHey, I said donât hide. What, you donât think your tits are hot or something?â
âTheyâre not. Theyâre big but they sag. Itâs embarrassing.â
âItâs fucking hot,â he insists, crawling a little higher so he can see you better. You canât help but to gasp when you feel his hard-on slide against your crotch. âDo you know how many guys like big tits? I donât care if theyâre hanging down to your fucking stomach.â He smirks. âTheyâre easier to get in my mouth that way.â
âOh my god, Hannie,â you laugh, playfully pushing on his cheek to move his head away from you.
âIâm so serious,â he says, though he laughs. âI canât believe youâre letting me play with them. Iâm on cloud nine.â
âI can kind of tell,â you say softly, shifting just enough so he feels the movement against his crotch and knows youâve noticed his boner.
âOh yeah,â he says, face blushing even deeper than yours. âYou know what would be even better than playing with your tits?â
âWhat?â
âEating you out.â
masterlist | Click here for part 2
#han jisung smut#han x reader#han x reader smut#han jisung x reader#han jisung x reader smut#skz smut#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader smut#skz x reader smut
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Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition)
Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus (+ maybe the other MLs!) and an oblivious player. Thatâs it, thatâs the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, maybe some suggestive language?? will add more tags as the story progresses A/N: This is gonna be a multi-chapter fic! Iâm still not sure whether to do the boys in rotation, or just focus on one ML per series. Donât take my word for it atp tho â Iâm not even sure if I can actually finish a series lol. Also, Iâve had the creative liberty of changing stuff from the actual gameplay here and there. (Except for the self-awareness. Thatâs most definitely real.) Hope you enjoy~!
Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3
Itâs a quarter past eight and youâre still on your desk working overtime on a Friday night.Â
You let out a big sigh, leaning back on your office chair after an unhealthy duration of bad posture from hours of slouching down in front of your computer. Thereâs nothing ergonomic about the way this job is killing you, and the ache in your lower back can attest to that.Â
An irate orange tabby plops himself in front of you, blocking your view of the glaring screen and you figure that itâs time for a break.Â
âMe-oow.â
âI know, I know,â You answer tiredly, standing up to dodge a stray paw clawing your way and you hear cracks in three different places that are honestly unbecoming of a woman your age. You havenât even reached thirty yet, for godâs sake. âIâm a bad mother. But mom also had to skip dinner to make it to the seven PM meeting, so cut me some slack, okay?âÂ
A high-pitched âmeooowr!â is the only response you get; it seems like thereâs no excusing late dinner time this time around.Â
As much as youâd like to hem and haw and complain, the main reason why youâre still keeping this job is because you can work remotely. If it werenât for the fact that youâre stuck most days at home working hours past your regular nine to five, having to be on-call around the clock at all times, and that youâve consumed more sodium than a nitrite victim with the way you live off cup ramen, then, really, it beats working in an office where youâd physically have to clock in and out from exactly nine to five.Â
Your right eye twitches. No, I have not fallen in love with the system that exploits me, thank you very much.Â
âHere is your Fancy Feast, your highness,â you tell the hungry feline whoâs already ignoring the hand that feeds for the bowl full of white fish patĂŠ. He eats healthier than you, sure, but you work like this for him to eat like this. The life of a single mom is an uphill battle, but extremely rewarding.Â
You raise your hand to pat your sonâs head lovingly, aborting the gesture halfway when you hear a warning growl. Alright, tough crowd.Â
After nuking a half-eaten takeout box in the microwave and grabbing a cold Bundaberg from the fridge, you hunker down on the âchaise loungeâ (see: an old wingback and a rattan ottoman youâve refurbished as a makeshift seat a few weeks back when you had guests over) for a late meal.Â
You barely register the taste of lukewarm rice on your tongue, mouth moving mechanically while your mind runs on autopilot about everything and nothing at the same time.Â
Maybe itâs time to check Jobstreet again
Is there like a laundromat near the area thatâs open twenty four seven
Eugh, I hate cold peas
What do we feel about Chromakopia?Â
I will⌠die alone
I really need to stock on some fresh produce this weekendâ
Ping!Â
A notification from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts â and like a well-trained dog pavlovâd into responding, you visibly perk up at the sight of your lock screen lighting up and the familiar banner youâve already memorized by heart.Â
Your Galaxy Explorer rewards are here. Did you put my hotelâs address as the shipping address?Â
Ah, just like clockwork.Â
You press on it with a quiet, bubbling anticipation, chewing on the plastic spork as you wait impatiently for the silly mobile game thatâs been your short respite at intervals â for more than youâd care to admit â to boot up.Â
Offhandedly, you wish that the devs would add more variations to the gameâs push notifications; more random, personalized stuff like maybe a reminder to drink water, or a fun update about their day. What youâd give â pay â for a: "Less on the overtime, kitten. I miss you,â dialogue from a certain character, but you digress.Â
Oh, well. Probably better this way, lest you dig yourself deeper into delusion.Â
The game greets you with the usual picturesque view of a silver-haired man sitting cross-legged on a chair, looking all the bit at ease in his signature crimson and white button up. The warm ambience of the Destiny CafĂŠ at night draws you in, already pulling your attention away from the never-ending stream of thoughts in your brain.Â
âBefore seeing you, I thought today would be another dull day,â Sylus comments airily. The way he drawls out the words in that deep timbre of his voice never fails to make your heart flutter â just a teeeensy bit.
âEver the charmer,â you sigh happily in return, situating yourself more comfortably on the sofa, almost horizontal from how far youâre leaning back on the cushion. âYouâre looking awfully normal tonight. What, no pineapple glasses for your favorite girl?âÂ
Having bypassed the initial cringe of talking to yourself after literal months of gameplay, it almost comes off natural, the banter. Youâve already accepted the fact that youâre crazy about a fictional, pixelated man â whatâs pretending to have actual conversations with him gonna do? Itâs not as if he actually hears you yap your nonsense; there are worse things in the world than a parasocial attachment to an otome game character.Â
Your little jab at the sometimes random addition to his choice of attire earns you a laugh from the man itselfâ or at least it looks as though it does, making you blink momentarily in surprise. Happy coincidence, I guess.
You shake your head, cracking a smile, then proceed to do the routine of completing the daily agenda and then some.Â
Itâs tedious business, sure. Youâve dedicated hours upon hours on this game and youâre honestly starting to feel pretty bored with some of the gameplay elements, but you *do* like the ritualistic nature of ticking off the tasks one by one. Itâs almost ironic â the way you dutifully do one thing after the other in this game, just to avoid the pile of work thatâs waiting for you in real life.Â
Itâs not as if anything, or anyoneâs relying on you to do your daily log-ins, so you suppose itâs due to that lack of pressure as well.Â
Pulling yourself away from the five-star Xavier memory card youâve grinded to level seventy, you stare despondently at the sad little 2 on your remaining energy. The embarrassing amount of materials you lack to ascend the card seem to mock you, even as you exit the Memories window. Another goal for another day, perhaps.
All tasks on the daily agenda are complete, except for one that youâve always saved for last.
Youâre met with a standing Sylus on the gameâs home screen, arms crossed and wearing an expression youâd almost describe as impatient, if you didnât know any better. The sight makes you grin.Â
Cheekily, you poke his crotch.
Youâre looking forward to getting a playful remark, or if youâre lucky, a blush along with an embarrassed retort about your shamelessness.Â
 What you get, however, is a resounding scoff. Your eyes snap back to his face â from, ahem, your prolonged staring at the area below his waist â and you do see the familiar tinge of pink on his cheeks, but what he says in response catches you off-guard.
âYou spend that much resource for a card that isnât mine?â Sylus tsks, both his voice and expression coming across as⌠affronted? âKitten, Iâm actually hurt.âÂ
Huh?
You havenât heard that line from him before. Was there a recent update you werenât aware of? The man in question then appears to look amused, from the way youâve been rendered speechless by the unexpected dialogue.Â
All at once, you gasp when you realize what the new response means.Â
âThatâs so smart,â you say giddily. You see Sylus cock his head to the side, synchronously quirking an eyebrowâexpectant. âThey actually added a feature that lets them know which memory Iâve upgraded last, and make you react to it. Oh, thatâs so cool!âÂ
If you werenât too busy being excited over what you think is a new update from the game, youâd see the chagrined look on Sylusâ face. But when you glance back at him, all trace of the emotion is gone before you could notice anything different.Â
âDonât worry, Crow Man. Youâre still my favorite,â you assure him, making his mouth tick upwards in a semblance of a smile. He looks pleased all of the sudden, his demeanor shifting into something more relaxed.
Then a pout forms on your face. You crinkle your nose in frustration as you complain, âItâs just really hard to level your cards up at this point. It takes ages and a shit ton of energy just to level you up past seventy five.â Sighing, you add, kind of bitterly, âAnd Iâm too broke to be spending money on growth packs.âÂ
Checking the time on your phone, you see that youâve already spent more than an hour on your self-imposed break time and you know that you ought to get back to work soon. With a groan, you pull yourself to sit upright, savoring the last few minutes of free time before you slave off for the rest of the night.Â
Youâre about to clean up whatâs left of dinner when you notice the oddly thoughtful look on Sylusâ face.Â
Thereâs a deep furrow in his brows as he brings a hand up to cover his mouth. He closes his eyes shut for a few seconds. He's never done that gesture before... Ugh, he looks really hotâ
Suddenly, you see a flickerâ then a weird, sort of graphic distortion happening in the background. Uh, what??
A beat; then a glitch on the screen. âAh, shit.âÂ
The game crashes.
You exhale loudly as the gameâs interface goes back to the loading screen, tapping your thumb impatiently as the bar slowly loads to 15%... 50%..... 81%.......Â
âMaybe make sure to patch up first before releasing an update next time, jeezâ Huh?âÂ
For a quick second, nothing seems to be amiss. But then the first thing you see on the home screen is Sylusâ figure standing before you, wearing an expression one could only describe as a cat that ate the proverbial canary.Â
He speaksâ and itâs another intro you havenât heard him say, ever.Â
âYou shouldâve told me sooner, sweetie,â he almost coos the words out, making your eyes bug out in shock.Â
âNow, why donât you go check yourââ he pauses, and his mouth moves as if heâs rolling the word out, testing it. âInventory?âÂ
Sylus slides his gaze towards the upper left corner of the screen, a coy smirk still ever-present on his face.Â
There, you see something you havenât noticed earlier: two notification badges. One on your mailbox, and another on the Hunterâs Info tab. Bewildered, you press on the mail icon first, despite the insistence for you to start with the latter.Â
You see a new message: [For You]
A small gift, to bridge our worlds closer. â SÂ
Nothing is attached to it. You read it twice, perplexed. Â
âYouâre quite the contradictorian, arenât you?â Sylus tuts as soon as you return back to the home screen, his gaze boring into you even when he tilts his head sideways in mock exasperation. âMmm, I suppose it doesnât matter. Take all the time you need, sweetheart.âÂ
Helplessly, you open your inventory next.Â
Your jaw drops.Â
âWhat. The fuck,â You whisper to yourself, voice wavering in disbelief at what youâre seeing, and the sheer amount of what youâre seeing. âThisâ this canât be real.âÂ
You see that all the materials you own, from the bottle of wishes to the ascension crystal boxes, have been multiplied a hundred times over.
And on top of thatâ
Ninety nine thousand red dias????
You cannot believe how thisâ this recent⌠update (or is it a bug? Infold sure isnât this generous) didn't make the news. Even as someone as uninvolved as you are with the community and the gameâs latest releases, something like this for sure wouldâve made headlines on Twitter (X), at least. But you havenât heard anything. Nada.Â
Holy shit.Â
You feel a little light-headed, both from incredulity and excitement. Needing a moment to calm yourself down, you exit the Inventory tab in a daze.
You stare at Sylus. He stares back at you with what looks to be mirth in his eyes.Â
Skeptically, you mutter, âdidâdid I get hacked or something?âÂ
Anticipating another unexpected dialogue to prompt up, you wait for a full minute without saying anything else. And for a moment, the man in front of you looks indecisive, contemplative.Â
Thereâs something very odd, very⌠human in the way heâs looking at you. He looks as ifâ as if heâsâ
His face falls back into a neutral expression. Not unlike how his idle animation usually looks.Â
..
âŚ
âŚ.. It doesnât seem like heâs going to initiate a conversation any time soon, so you hesitantly poke him on the nose.Â
âEven in the worst-case scenario, thereâs no need to panic.â
Youâve heard that one before.
So heâs back to normal now. You temper the small disappointment that blooms in your gut.Â
Shaking your head slowly, you try to make sense of all the stuff that just happened, but a sharp bite on your ankle pulls you out of your reverie.Â
âOwâ!â The sight of your cat flopping near your feet reminds you of the time. More importantly, the backlogs waiting for you at your desk.Â
âWait, shitâ I gotta get back to work.â This⌠unbelievable stroke of good luck (?) is gonna have to take a backseat for now.
You grab the carton box and the half-empty bottle of sparkling peach as you stand up. Making quick work of throwing the container in the trash and gulping down the rest of your drink, you rush into your room and back in front of your PC.Â
Cracking your knuckles, you gingerly set your phone against the monitor. Setting the timer to one hour in Quality Time, knowing fully-well that youâre going to have to keep extending it until the wee hours of the morning â or until your battery dies, whichever comes first â you give Sylus one last look, letting out a long exhale before locking in.
âJust keep me company for the night, alright? Iâll figure out whatâs going on once my shiftâs over.âÂ
It could just be your overactive imagination, but you swear you hear a quiet chuckle from the man polishing his gun in your peripheral.
#love and deepspace#lads#lnds#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you#lads x you#lads x reader#love and deepspace fic#sylus qin
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What if prompt for the 141: In the Rain
"It's pouring rain, why are you here?" Or something to this nature. I love a confession in the rain, stuck in the rain, kissing in the rain, all of it! Lol
I too love a good confession in the rain. That final scene in Pride & Prejudice is still peak confession in the rain trope for me. I think about it all the time. I think about it on repeat. I want it tattooed on my eyelids. When I think "in the rain," I think of that scene.
So, these aren't smutty by any means but one (maybe two) have some spice to them. They are full of love and longing. There are emotions, angst, and lots of kissing. It's our soaked to the bone 141 boys confessing their hearts in the pouring rain.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, brief mention of alcohol, suggestive themes, grief/mourning, love confessions, kissing, emotional hurt/comfort, feelings, intimacy, non-descriptive sex
Word Count: 3k
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
John Price
There are few things that John Price indulges in.
Cigars. Whiskey. The thought of you as his woman.
That last one plagues him. It burrows in. Makes a home every night to flood his dreams with images of you. John awakens each morning with you on his mindâand then you linger the rest of the day, crawling forward to say hello when he least expects it.
John sits on a barstool in a dive bar, contemplating life in the bottom of his whiskey glass. Itâs the middle of fucking nowhere, but thatâs the point. This isnât a celebration or a job well done. This is a âthank fuck itâs overâ drink.
The dive bar is dark and smoky. A jukebox in the corner endlessly rotates between eighties rock and country music. Next to the jukebox is a pool table where a group of three play. Otherwise, the place is entirely empty.
John knocks back the rest of his whiskey, signaling the bartender for a refill. Heâs only half-listening to the conversations around him.
Laswell, MacTavish, Garrick, and Riley are all here. Simon is silent, staring off into space as the other three have an animated conversation. Youâre here too, sandwiched between MacTavish and Riley. Youâre not speaking, but you are listening, nodding your head at all the right moments.
But you look tired. Like youâre about ready to pack it up and call it a night. Itâs deserved. This mission sucked. It was brutal. Tough. A complete shit-eating stink of a job. You arenât part of the team. Not really. Laswell dragged you in last second, and John is happy that she did. Otherwise, heâd never have met you.
And that would be a tragedy.
John only has eyes for you. It is a sweet tooth that cannot be satiated. Heâs been a bit reserved in how heâs approached you, but you always have a soft smile for him or a cheeky remark. Itâs devolved into flirting at times, and at points so blatant that everyone else chimes in.
âI think Iâm gonna head out,â you yawn, pushing your empty glass to the edge of the bar. The bartender walks by and snags it, whisking it away to be deposited into the sink.
This is it. Youâre about to walk away. John will likely never see you again unless Laswell decides to call on you. This might very well be his only chance.
You slip off your barstool, and John abruptly stands, his leg smacking into Laswellâs stool. Everyoneâincluding Simonâturns in Johnâs direction.
He coughs. Clears his throat. âIâll walk you to your car,â he says quickly.
MacTavish smirks and elbows Gas in the arm. The two men exchange a knowing glance before they both raise their eyebrows at John. MacTavish even shakes his shoulders a bit. John shoots them a cold look over your shoulder. They stifle their laughter behind their glasses.
You donât notice at all. Your focus is on John, and thatâs exactly how he wants it.
The entrance of the dive consists of one interior door, a small entryway, and an exterior door. As the two of you enter the small entryway, a crack of thunder erupts overhead. You pause, staring out the small window on the exterior door. Itâs not pouring, but the rain is steady. Getting caught it in for any period of time will likely result in soaked clothes.
You turn slightly in his direction, and John is suddenly aware of how cramped the space is.
âYou donât need to walk me to my car,â you say softly, gesturing toward the downpour. âNot with the rain.â
John shrugs. âI want to.â
Itâs true. He does. But there is an ulterior motive here. This is his one chance to have a final goodbye or a new start.
You smile softly, gaze flicking down to the floor before returning to his face. Johnâs cheeks heatâand itâs ridiculous. Heâs a grown fucking man. He doesnât get flustered. But this space is small. It is far too cramped. John is nearly on top of you.
Beneath those long eyelashes are your gentle eyes. Itâs a look you only give him. Your lips part slightly. Theyâre gorgeous. Youâre gorgeous. He wants nothing more than to lean down and close the distance.
âOkay,â you reply with a teasing laugh, opening the door.
The earthy scent of rain hits him first and then the pattering of the falling rain comes next. You slip out the door and stand close to the building under the small awning, attempting to stay out of the rain. John follows behind, coming up next to you.
Your smile is sweet as you gaze up into the dark sky. But then you turn to him, and that smile morphs into something devious.
âShould we race to the car?â you ask, as if conspiring.
John grins. âThink you can beat me?â
You laugh. âAn old man like you? Absolutely.â
John canât help but smile back, nudging you with his elbow. âNot that old.â
âWhat do I get if I win?â you ask, turning to look at him.
âA kiss,â says John automatically. It rolls right off his tongue. There is no way for him to take it back. And he doesnât want to. âWhat do I get if I win?â
You wait a beat. And then answer.
âA kiss,â you reply slowly.
A kiss.
John blinks, his mind momentarily stuttering out. Your grin widens, and then youâre off, sprinting into the rain and to the car.
John nearly trips as he jogs after you. The gravel is slick and the rain splatters against his jacket. He isnât all that interested in racing. John is only watching you, and the way your ass bounces as you make for the car. Your curves are lovely. He imagines opening the rear door and pushing you into the back seat, only to drag you into his lap to take whatever he wants.
You make it before he does, but John is right behind, nearly sliding to a stop in the wet gravel. You turn toward him, grinning. Pieces of hair stick to the sides of your face. John cannot help himself. He grabs the back of your neck and draws you in.
You donât resist. You surrender.
Johnâs mouth crashes against yours and you open beautifully for him. There is no one kiss. There are many. Multitudes. It is endless. It is rain-laced. Whiskey-drenched. John might have the buzz of alcohol in his veins but you are quickly replacing it.
Your lips part and John slides his tongue inside. Your hands grab at him, fingers digging in. The two of you are pressed together, rain falling to drench clothing and skin.
With a low groan, John pushes you up against the car, intensifying his kisses. You eagerly greet him, accepting them all, returning them in equal measure. You are just as desperate. Just as hungry. Time is an illusionâand it isnât until you shiver beneath him that John pulls away, aware that the two of you are now soaked through.
âWhy are you still here?â you ask.
âYou donât know?â he replies, his hand cupping your face, thumb brushing against your bottom lip.
âItâs pouring, John.â
âI know.â You smile, and John goes in for one more kiss. âDo you not feel this? Am I the only one?â
You shake your head. âI feel it. Everywhere, John. I feel you everywhere.â
âLetâs go. Get out of here.â
âRight now?â
Johnâs grip tightens and you gasp, hips pressing against his.
âRight now.â
Simon "Ghost" Riley
The rain is light but steady. It falls from the cloudy sky to patter against your umbrella.
The graveyard is empty, and yet you knew Simon would be here. He always is on the anniversary of Johnnyâs death. Like clockwork. Itâs routine for him. A ritual.
Simonâs back is to you, his head bent as he stands in front of Johnnyâs grave. There is no body there. Itâs ornamental. Something for family and friends. There are fresh flowers next to the headstone.
You have no idea how long Simon has been out here. Simon has no umbrella with him, and the hood of his jacket is off. Heâll catch a chill like this, which is why you came. Seeing him like this is always difficult, and since Johnnyâs passing, Simon has grown more attached.
He is always checking in on youâalways near. Youâd call it protectiveness but it feels more like obligation. A duty. Most days, Simon appears to be on the cusp of telling you something, revealing a secret that heâs itching to confess. You donât know what it might be. Couldnât take a guess. But you have thought about it. You have imagined all sorts of possibilities.
The two of you are always finding the other. Always reconnecting. Always reaching out. If itâs not him, itâs you. Perhaps itâs Johnnyâs death that has brought this on. Whatever it might be, Simon is closer to you than heâs ever been, and sometimes it frightens you.
It feels like more.
âI brought you an umbrella,â you say to Simonâs back.
He turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder. Simonâs gaze sweeps from the ground and then lands on you. His hair is wet and droplets of water speckle his face like freckles.
Simon fully turns toward you.
The rain picks up a bit, soaking Simon further. You rush to him, holding your umbrella over his head, cutting off the rain. The two of you stand under it in silence, simply staring at each other. Time stretches, and then Simonâs hand rises, wrapping around your own where you hold to the handle.
âWhy are you here?â he asks.
You swallow, and gather your courage. âYou shouldnât grieve alone.â
Simonâs brow softens. âIâm supposed to be the one looking after you.â
âI never asked you to,â you reply.
âBut Johnny did.â
You start, eyes widening slightly. âWhat do you mean?â
Simon licks his lips. A droplet of water drips from the tip of his nose. âI made a promise. To Johnny. I made a promise to him.â
âWhat promise?�� you whisper as the rain picks up more. The rain strikes the top of the umbrella in loud patters that nearly drown out your voice.
Another droplet falls from Simonâs nose. He leans in slightly, and the movement is confusing. Itâs too intimate, like he wants to close the distance.
âI promised that I wouldââ he abruptly cuts off, swallowing. Simonâs gaze darts from your eyes to your lips and then back again.
âWhat is it, Simon?â
He sighs. âFuck it,â he growls, shredding any distance there might have been between your bodies.
Simon claims your lips, kissing you so completely that youâre momentarily stunned. You taste the rain. Mint. A slight hint of smoke. You return the kiss, not pushing him away or pulling back. You open for him, accepting it all, and Simon continues to take, his free arm wrapping around your waist to draw you closer.
Even though heâs drenched, Simon is incredibly warm. Itâs unfair how he can be an inferno in this downpour.
The graveyard is forgotten. The rain is a distant. There is only Simonâs lips, and the groan he makes when you return each kiss in equal enthusiasm.
Simon goes in for a quick nip before drawing away. It leaves you breathless and wanton.
âWas that part of the promise?â you ask, only half-joking.
Simon shrugs. âIn a way.â You arch an eyebrow and Simon smiles softly. âI told Johnny Iâd make a move. And now I have.â
âYes,â you agree, heat blooming in your cheeks and your core. âYou have.â
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
There is no turning back.
You made a choice. Kyle made a choice.
This is how it is.
You donât want to be at the airport. You donât want to leave. This entire situation is shit. But Kyle seemed willing to let you go. Heâs not here. He didnât beg you to stay. He didnât try to convince you that all he wants in life is you.
Thatâs all you need. To be wanted. To be loved.
After all of thisâafter everything, and Kyle isnât here.
Youâre not mad. Not really. You are both adults. You both have made a choice. Just because you donât like something doesnât mean you donât understand. Because at the end of the day, you do. Truly.
Sighing, you haul your suitcase over the curb and on the sidewalk. The Uber that brought you here is already pulling away to go pick up someone else. The airport is packed on the inside, and the rain that falls from the sky in sheets. You have a coat, and the hood is up, but what you really need is an umbrella.
Already, you feel the water seeping into the unprotected places. Rain does that sometimes. Trickles in where it isnât wanted.
You start to pull your suitcase behind you. A wheel catches in a small crack, and it nearly takes you down with it. Stumbling forward, you put a hand out to catch your fall. You expect your bare palm to land on concrete. To burn with pain.
But you donât make it to the ground. You donât touch it at all.
There are arms around you. They are strong. And somehow so damn familiar itâs frightening.
Then, youâre being lifted, guided back to your feet. Those strong arms ease you onto solid ground, and then youâre turning to thank the stranger thatâs saved you from falling face first into the concrete.
But it is no stranger.
âKyle,â you breathe, staring into the face of the man youâve loved for years now.
Something breaks. Shatters.
âWhat are you doing here?â you ask.
Kyle hasnât let you go. His arms are still around you. Your hands grasp his biceps, and his jacket is slick with rain. His hood is not up. And yours has fallen at some point. Already, the rain is soaking your hair. Strands of it stick to your face.
âComing to right a wrong,â he says. Your lips part but Kyle shakes his head. âIâm sorry. I didnât fight hard enough. I let you slip through the cracks.â
Kyle draws you in a bit closer. The people passing by and the cars are distant.
âI should have told you âI love youâ every day. I should have been present.â
âKyleââ
Your next words are stolen. Kyle closes the distance, and then youâre wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, sinking into the kiss.
You canât leave now.
You canât.
John "Soap" MacTavish
The rain falls gently from the sky.
Johnny grins, staring up into it, opening his mouth. His tongue is out to capture the droplets. You laugh, and wrap your arms around his shoulders, going in for a quick kiss on his cheek.
As you draw back, one of Johnnyâs hands shoots out, snagging your arm. You playfully yelp, and swat at him, thinking that Johnny will let you go. Heâs flirty, and sweet, but there is nothing more to it.
At least, you didnât think so.
But Johnnyâs gaze is heated, and the way he holds you against him is far too intimate to be anything other than what it is.
âJohnny,â you laugh, trying to play it off, but he remains firm.
His smile faulters slightly but itâs not a frown. Itâs a heated stare. His gaze is on your lips, and you can see the desire there. What would happen if you went for it? If you kissed him?
âWhat are we doing?â he asks. âCanât I have you?â
Startled, everything leaves your head. âWhat?â
Johnnyâs gaze flicks up, and those gorgeous eyes drown youâsubmerging you in his depths. âWhy are we stepping around this? We want each other.â
You do want him, but you thought it was mostly one-sided.
âIs that what you want?â you ask, softly.
Johnny smirks, and then heâs lifting you up into the air, placing you on top of the low stone wall. âShould I use my words?â he asks, fingers sliding underneath your rain-drenched shirt. He is warm, and his touch heats your skin. âOr should I show you with my body?â
Johnny nips at your bottom lip as his hands ascend. One slides between your breasts just as his lips meet yours. Your core clenches, and then youâre grabbing for him, touching him as much as heâs touching you.
The two of you are in the Scottish countryside. There are no people around. Just the two of you, and rolling green hills.
Johnny slots himself between your legs, and you reach beneath his kilt, finding him hard and wanting. He hisses, and then groans when you stroke him.
Everything is warm. Everything is rough.
It doesnât matter that itâs raining, or that itâs a bit cold. You allow Johnny to shove articles of clothing aside, to find the places where youâre needing him to be. His touch is a brand, and you love how it feels, pulsing through your loins like an overheated engine.
âJohnny,â you gasp into the rain, fingers threading through his hair as he goes to his knees to taste between your thighs.
There is only heavy breath. A twisting of pleasure.
When he finally brings your bodies together, there is nothing but him. Nothing but you. Just two people finding each other.
The rain is nothing.
It isnât even cold anymore.
Johnny is all heat. And you are burning for him.
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One night stand
Summary: y/n is forced to do some after hours training with KĂśnig
đWarningđ: 18+NSFW, Oral sex, raw sex, breeding, rough sex, fluff, slight angst,praise/degradation kink, size kink etcâŚ
ClingyKĂśnigxreaderđ
Part 2.
Part 3
Word count: 4.k
âThat was good but youâre leaving yourself open.â A gloved hand takes hold of your wrist. He lifts both arms, protecting your face. Your eyes dart up catching a brief moment of eye contact before he quickly looks away. Green. His eyes were green, you hadnât noticed till now. KĂśnig was sweet but he made sure to keep his distance from peopleâthe fact that you were this close to him at all was a shock. Sgt. Ghost didnât take kindly to your recent mistake on the last mission. He doubled your workload and put you on probation, because most of the Barracks were close friends of yours, he assigned you the quietest person on the team. Now you and KĂśnig spend three hours a day training after hours. While your peers train together, you're mopping floors and cleaning toilets. Ghost doesnât let you train during work hours in case your colleagues distract you. This was a punishment and he made that clear. âIâm sorry you have to do this with me everyday. This is my punishment, you shouldnât have to suffer on my behalf.â He shakes his head at your apology.
âI donât mindâŚI know how Ghost gets.â He places both hands on your hips, rotating your body. The truth is he really didnât mind, most days he looked forward to seeing you. âKeep your core strong.â He instructs. His fingers travel up the curves of your body as he repositions you. His large hands warm up your waist as ungodly thoughts intrude your mind. The mask made it impossible for you to read his emotions, any expression came from his eyes (which he often hides). The only change you could see was the way his breath hitched as his finger accidentally grazes your breast. He was always so respectful when touching you, the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. Once your body is angled correctly he lets go, taking a few steps back. It almost seemed like he was avoiding the closeness. âNow attack me and defend.â He orders. You lunge forward âjabbing left, right,left,right. He blocks every punch effortlessly, guarding his face. He dodges, dipping low and charging at you. His arms wrap around your thighs hoisting you up. Your fingers interlock beating down on his back, trying to break his iron grip. He stumbles, arms loosening just enough to break free. Your feet hit the ground, KĂśnig grunts as your fist connects clean with his jaw. âUhn that one actually hurtâŚgood job.â He waves a hand of surrender while rubbing his cheek through the mask. You run over to help. âAre you alright Iâm so sorry-â his hand shoots out, snatching your arm, spinning you. His solid arm tightens around your neck trapping you in a chokehold. His breathing is shallow, body tensing as your ass presses against him. You reach up and caress his forearm. He hadnât realized just how small you were compared to him till now, his body engulfed the entirety of your frame. He notes how perfectly you fit in his arms and how easy itâd be to break you. Your head rests just below his pecs, the smell of your hair product wafts up his mask, he inhales the sweet scent. His bicep flexes, tightening his grip, your eyes flutter and a quiet moan falls from your lips. You loved that light headed airy feeling of being choked.
âN-never let your guard down.â He letâs go, gently pushing you away, putting a giant gap between the two of you. âEven if you think someone is done, be prepared to attackâŚâ he trails off getting distracted by how sexy you look after an intense workout. How fast your breathing is, how your hair is messy with sweat, how your lips part as you catch your breath. He wanted to be the one to work you out.
âOh whatever you cheated .â You laugh squatting down as you catch your breath. KĂśnig crouches, grabbing his flask from the ground. His large, veiny hands twist the top off in one swipe. Unconsciously, he lifts the bottom of his mask to drink, showing you a glimpse of the lower half of his face. His jaw tenses, a trickle of water spills down his chin as he swallows. His adams apple bobs with each gulp. You gawk at the scene in front of you, thinking it has to be a daydream.
âWater?â He holds the flask to you.
âS-sure.â You ease to a sitting position on your knees reaching for the bottle. You stare at the rim that just grazed his lips. Does this count as an indirect kiss? You think. He watches you place your lips in the exact spot heâd drank from, flushed with excitement. He wonders if your lips were as soft as he imagined theyâd be. How theyâd feel melding with hisâŚhow theyâd feel wrapped around his dick. He doesnât dwell on it too long, knowing that would never happen and that you didnât see him that way.
âHave you eaten?â He asks, looking at you with big green eyes.
âSergeant told the cafeteria to only feed me peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, so I havenât eaten anything of value.â Your stomach grumbles on que.
âYou must have really gotten on his bad side huh?â He offers you a hand,helping you to your feet.
âUnfortunately.â You dust off your pants and begin collecting your belongings.
âSince we wrapped up a bit early, how about I take you somewhere you can get real food.â He offers, packing his duffle bag.
âYou know how tight ghost keeps the kitchen locked upâŚâ you say with an annoyed tone.
âWho said anything about the kitchen?â His voice sounds mischievous.
âYou donât mean-?â You shake your head, stuffing your hat and jacket in the bag.
âCome on, heâll never know Iâve worked with him long enough to know his blind spots.â He tilts his head expressively.
âFine but if we get caught, you ordered me to go.â You hike your bag onto your shoulder, walking past him. He smiles behind you.
~
âPuedo pedir dos margaritas?(may I have two margaritas) SĂâŚun bistec nacho y un burrito de pollo(one steak nacho and one chicken burrito)Eso es todo, gracias(that's all thank you).â He says expertly, the waiter nods thanking you before going to pin the order up.
âWow Iâve been deployed here longer than you and my Spanish is still choppy.â You toy with some lime slices on the table to keep yourself busy. KĂśnig watches you closely, an amused look in his eye.
âI can speak a few languages but Iâm not good at them all.â He looks you up and down, the lights from the club area illuminates your skin. Your hair is pulled in a now messy bun. Cute strands stick out from your training session. He is especially drawn to your lips, the way you lick and nibble your bottom lip when youâre nervous. His eyes dart away when you feel his gaze lingering and look up.
âWhat other languages do you speak?â You stare out into the dance floor, watching the locals swing and jump to the music. They looked carefree and happy, itâd been so long since youâve felt good or even had a good time. Ghost saw a lot of potential in you so he stayed on your ass 24/7. Tough love is what he liked to call it.
âGerman is my first language.â He reveals.
âGerman? Thatâs so cool , say something in German.â He chuckles at your excitement.
âIch mĂśchte dich Ăźber diesen Tisch beugen und dich dazu bringen, mich ganz zu nehmen (I want to bend you over this table and make you take all of me)â he leans forward, green eyes boring into you as he says this,making sure you can hear him over the music. You had no idea what he just said but it made your thighs clench under the table.
âW-what does that mean?â
âIâll tell you one day.â He shrugs. You toss a lime, it smacks his vest with a small thud.
âI thought friends donât keep things from eachother.â You tease. The server brings out two large glasses with salted rims, there was no way you could finish this entire thing. He places the margaritas on either side of the table along with straws. KĂśnig tears open his straw taking a long pull from his drink.
âWhoa itâs strong.â The fruity syrup barely covered the 3 shots of liquor . You indulge, sucking a mouth full of the frozen drink. It tastes strongly of strawberry slushie and tequila, the salted rim balances all the flavors with a sour finish. The alcohol must have been hitting him pretty fast because all he could imagine is him being that straw. How good the inside of your mouth must taste and feel.
âYouâre rightâŚI see why everyone is having such a good time.â You joke, taking another sip. A hearty laugh rumbles in his chest, he loved the way you always spoke your mind. Itâs one of the qualities that always got you in trouble with ghost. Nothing made him laugh more than watching you stress ghost out with your witty personality.
âI guess weâd better join the party.â He raises his glass for a toast before chugging half.
The server brings out hot plates of food, everything looked and smelled amazing. Your stomach growls at the sight of real food, the liquor (coupled with only eating sandwiches for a week) takes effect making you absolutely demolish your burrito. KĂśnig shyly slips a few chips under his mask, he never ate around people since it usually required the mask to come off.
âThis is soooo good.â You say having another bite.
âI love this place. I come here often.â He slides in another chip.
âI thought we werenât allowed to leave base unauthorized or maybe thatâs just me.â Ghost had a tendency of giving you extra rules for your troublesome rap sheet.
âWe arenât but if you donât get caught, did it ever happen?â He laughs, taking the final sip of his drink.
âAnd they call me the troublemaker.â You say glancing at the dance floor again.
âDo you want to?â He asks.
âWant to what? Dance?âŚno I donât uh I donât dance.â You dismiss quickly.
â Iâve seen you knock grown men out y/n, dancing canât be much harder than that.â
âYou know youâre much more social than usual.â You observe.
âOnly when Iâm with you.â He grabs your hand leading you to the crowd.
The music thumps with bass, shaking the ground beneath your feet. A sexy song plays through the huge speakers near the DJ station. People couple up, swaying their bodies to the beat. KĂśnig slips an arm around your lower back pulling you close. You struggle to find the tempo, moving left to right awkwardly. He takes your hand, spinning you around. His eyes trace the line of your body before pulling you back into his chest. You giggle at how ridiculous you look compared to his smooth rhythm. Your foot slams down on his toe as you try to find the beat âIâm so sorry! Iâm so bad at this maybe I should sit-â
âLetâs try this instead.â His knee forces your legs apart, giving him control of your movements. The feeling of his thigh pressed firmly against your heat makes your head spin.
âFollow my lead.â He commands.
His waist sways back and fourth, rocking your bodies in unison. You copy his actions, grinding your hips together, the grip on your waist tightens. The fabric of your pants rub creating friction between your legs, his cock reacts to the closeness, beating as if it was dancing along with them. finding the rhythm, your body starts to move on its own.
âScheisse (Shit)â he groans as you turn around and twirl your ass on him. His head falls back as you start to swirl your hips down and back up slowly. His big hand slides over your stomach holding you as close as possible, his rock hard member strains through his thick camo pants. Your eyes close as you grind into him, his finger grazes the exposed skin peeking from under your shirt. He trails that same finger up your torso, between your breast and up your neck. His hand rests at the base of your throat keeping hold of you as your bodies whirl around the dance floor. He spins you back around to face him, for once he demands eye contact and youâre the one shying away. You stare at the floor, giant hands cup your face pulling you to meet his feverish gaze.
âDonât look away from me.â KĂśnigâs voice sounds different, More rugged. His shoulders hunch as he leans down to your height as he speaks. âBitte komm mit mir nach Hauseâ he whispers in your ear.
âWhatâs that?â
âPlease come home with me.â He breathes.
~
âHow the hell did you convince Ghost to let you room by yourself ?â You ask, stepping past the threshold.
â My social skills and big personality helped with that.â He jokes sarcastically. KĂśnig wasnât required to room with anyone thanks to his close connection to the sergeant, leaving the two of you completely alone in his quarters.
âWell I guess if you donât talk much there isnât much you could say to get in trouble.â You ponder.
âYeah you should try it.â He chuckles at your shocked expression.
âTry what exactly?â You ask appalled , holding your chest dramatically.
âNot talking. That mouth of yours is dangerous.â
âGive me one example where I said something worth getting punished for.â Your arms cross.
âIf I recall correctly you said and I quote âwhy would I listen to a dude named Simon?â â he says in a high pitch voice mimicking yours.
âFirst of all he wasnât supposed to hear that, wrong place at the wrong time on his part and secondly Simon is a funny name, the jokes practically write themselves.â He pauses for a second before doubling over with laughter.
His keys clatter on the kitchen counter as he wipes his tears of laughter away. You set your bags near the couch and sway on your heels nervously, unsure whether to sit or stand. Strong hands settle on your shoulders working away the tension youâve been holding for god knows how long. Your head rolls back into his touch, he kneads your muscles like dough relieving any and all stress. âThat feels so good, KĂśnig.â You groan, closing your eyes.
âCome with me.â He grasps your hand leading you down a hall , stopping at a closed door. He twists the knob revealing a very plain bedroom, a queen sized bed with black sheets, a desk, and stacks of paperwork are all that decorate the space. There are two extra doors, one leading to the closet and the other to the bathroom. You laugh at his clumsiness. Heâs clearly tipsy as he staggers to the door.
He slips his gloves off and opens the cabinet below the sink, rummaging around and pulling things out onto the bathroom floor. Finally, he emerges with a pink topped bottle. âBaby oilâ the label reads.
âStrip.â He says, unbuckling his bulletproof vest and laying it on the desk chair.
âS-strip?â
âYes, so I can massage you. That is what you want isnât it?â He removes his thick camouflage jacket revealing the snug black material of his undershirt.
His muscles bulge veiny and tight, stretching the fabric. It was true, you did want his hands all over you. Ever since you two started training together, you found yourself fantasizing about being split by that monster of a man. Your hands fumble with the buckle of your pants as you kick your boots off. He advances, towering a wapping 6'6â. You shift with anticipation, looking up at him with gleaming eyes. The tips of his fingers hook under the hem of your shirt, swiping it over your head. Your scrunchie is taken along with it, freeing your hair (for my fellow natural haired girlies letâs just say you have braids or a wig). If youâd known youâd be stripping for someone tonight, you would have picked sexier underwear. Heâs silent as he takes in how perfect you look in your plain gray and white bra/pantie combo.
âLay on the bed.â He instructs unscrewing the baby oil top.
You listen, climbing up into the comfy cotton sheets, using your arms as pillows. Heâs flustered at how obedient you are, since that wasnât a side of you heâd seen before. The military couldnât break youâŚbut he would. He stands at the side of the bed admiring every dip and curve of your figure. Flipping the bottle upside down, Slick cool oil slides down your back. His thumbs rub circles along your spine, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. His long fingers slip under your bra strap, he huffs in frustration.
âIn the way-â he unclasps it skillfully. Your face is burning with embarrassment, there was no way you were laying in KĂśnigs bed half naked. A shiver runs down your leg as he slides down the elastic waist of your panties. He begins working and kneading your lower back, squeezing the plush skin of your ass. The crotch of your panties were soaked, leaving a huge wet spot on the gray fabric. He inhales, your arousal was palatable, his dick pulsates at the scent of your glistening womanhood. Your panties glide down over your ankles as he slides them off, tossing them into the corner.
âFlip over.â He grunts, tossing you around.
Your breast fall from the unclamped bra, hard nipples on full display. KĂśnig doesnât hesitate yanking and pulling you to the edge of the bed.
âOn your knees.â His voice is breathy and low.
your eyes stay on him as you shift onto your knees, hands holding your chest shyly. Gently he pulls them away, slipping the straps down and off your arms. Because of his height, youâre at perfect eye level with his throbbing erection. His breath hitches as your elegant fingers undo the zipper of his pants, his earthy green eyes flutter. His big hand cradles your cheek as he watches you work to release him from the shackles of those annoying pants. His cock burst free, slapping his lower stomach. Although you couldnât see his face, the state of his arousal was evident. Veins root from base to tip, beating rhythmically along the upward curve of his sex. His tip is blushed and oozing with pre-cum, his breathing accelerates with need. You run your tongue up the length of his rock hard shaft, he grunts head lolling back. Your lips wrap around the tip, tongue swirling and teasing him before opening nice and wide.
âScheiĂe (Fuck)â he pants, caressing your cheek pulling your warm wet mouth down on his cock. It was even better than heâs imagined, his hand sets the pace rocking your head back and forth. Tears prick your eyes as he begins moving faster, fucking your throat. Each thrust deeper than the last, his hand moves to the base of your neck feeling how deep you can swallow him.
âYou look so fucking pretty sucking my cock.â He wipes a stray tear with his thumb.
You gag as he pushes further, your throat muscles contract around him before he pulls back.
âOh naughty naughty girl. You almost made me cum.â He teases, lightly pushing you back onto the bed. The mattress creaks from his massive size as he climbs between your legs, peering down at you. Your hand reaches under the mask, he firmly grips your wrist forcing it to the bed.
âAsk nicely.â He orders.
âCan I touch youâŚplease.â You beg.
He releases your hand, it finds the bottom of the mask, sliding underneath to find the stubble of a 5 o'clock shadow and soft lips. Your finger strokes his lower lip, it is plump and warm.suddenly, his mouth opens nipping and sucking the skin of your curious finger. âAh what are you-â you moan arching your back. Pushing your hand away once more, he leans down, capturing your parted lips. Your lips dance in perfect harmony, melting into one another. He moans into your mouth, his jaw tenses as your tongue pushes through savoring the flavor that is KĂśnig. The head of his dick pokes at your slippery slit begging for entry, you can feel how hot he is all over causing your temperature to rise.
âOpen up for me, Iâm gonna give you everything I have.â He groans, plunging inside with a flick of his hips. Your hands claw at the smooth skin of his back as you stretch around him, his girth almost too much to handle. You cry out as he thrust deeper âJust alittle more baby, youâre taking me so wellâŚsâgood sâfucking good.â He pants filling you to the brim. He stays still for a moment letting you adjust to his large size, the pressure in your pussy nearly makes you cum right then and there.
âI feel you twitching around me princess, you canât cum yet, Iâm not done breaking you.â He pulls back before slamming back in, hitting the back of your cervix with each thrust. There is a delicious ache in your belly as he impales you, the curve of his dick reaches places you didnât even know existed.
âAh ah sâto big I-I canât I canât.â You cry biting the skin of his chest to hold back your screams.
âYouâre gonna take whatâŚIâŚgiveâŚyou.â He pounds with each word. He sits up pushing your knees to your chest forcing even deeper inside your velvety walls. This position gives him access to your stiff wet bud. With two fingers he spreads your creamy folds watching his dick pump in and out of you. Every thrust his cock emerges more coated than the last.
âYour pussy is so fucking gorgeous , look at that needy little clit.â He flicks your bud, rutting into you with all his strength. His long fingers grab your throat, your tongue lols out as he chokes you. He alternates the pressure taking you up and gently bringing you back down. âThat pretty mouth isnât so dangerous now.â Your quivering walls clench around him threatening to overflow.
âP-please Iâm gonnaâŚah!â He pulls out, gripping your waist as he throws you around, roughly raising your ass to him. Before you can register the change he splits you apart once again, slapping your plush ass, leaving hot hand prints on your skin. Those giant hands push and pull you back on his cock, using your pussy to make himself cum.
âYou have such a cute tummy.â He reaches around pressing on your lower belly feeling how full it is with his cock.
âYou would make such a pretty mommy.â He praises fucking you faster and harder. That throws you over the edge, your body convulses and clamps down icing his dick with your sweetness.
His teeth clench with an inhuman growl as his rod twitches and throbs before shooting your insides with his hot seed.
~
âLate again huh, rookie? Thatâs an extra week.â You jump, turning around. Ghost stands over you. It was true last nightâs events made it impossible to wake up at 5 am with the other soldiers. You ended up sneaking out of KĂśnigs bed in the middle of the night, hoping you could sneak back into your barracks undetected. The mission was success. You slipped into your bed at 2 a.m before anyone could realize you were gone. Unfortunately, that means you overslept, waking up three hours late.
âI wasâŚsick.â You lie scrubbing the bathroom tiles diligently.
âSick? You were fine yesterday.â He says with a flat tone.
âMust have eaten something bad, all those peanut butter and jelly sandwiches must have taken a toll.â You grunt, rubbing your stomach.
âNext time youâre sick. You report it to me in advance.â He orders.
âHow can I predict when Iâm gonna be sick?-â
âDonât question me.â He spins on his heels walking out the bathroom.
âOkay Simon.â You mock.
âWhat was that rookie?â He calls back.
âNothing Sargeant!â You exclaim.
He walks away finally, leaving you with the smell of bleach and toilet water. Your arms ache from scrubbing. throwing the sponge in the bucket of cleaning solution, you sit back against the wall thinking about last night. All morning you avoided seeing KĂśnig, ducking and dodging him in the halls. Every time you thought of him, your face burned with embarrassment, there is no way you could look him in the eye after that. For now your plan is to just lay low in hopes he was too drunk to remember anything. It was nothing. Just a drunken one night stand.
âThere you are.â He charges forward looking down at you.
âH-here I am whats up KĂśnigâŚdo you need a copy of that report-â
âWhy did you sneak out last night.â He interrupts.
âPsh me? Sneak out I didnât sneak out. I just went for a walkâŚand ended up in my bed.â You reach into the bucket with gloved hands wringing the sponge out.
âWhy couldnât we sleep together?â He asks.
You fly to your feet in a panic âShhh! What if someone hears you?â
âSo what?â He tilts his head in confusion.
âSuperior and subordinate relationships are strictly prohibited!â You whisper/yell.
âRightâŚhm, okay in here then.â He takes your hand leading you into the stall furthest from the door, The lock clicks behind you.
âCanât this wait till after hours.â You say with an annoyed tone.
âI want an explanation.â His arm rests on the wall above your head.
âThis. This is why I snuck off, to avoid whatever this is. Now Iâm stuck in a bathroom stall talking aboutâŚfeelings.â You hold your stomach making a pained face.
âThis isnât funny.â His voice is low.
âYouâre right it isnât but it is complicated .â
âY/n? You in here?â A voice calls.
You mouth shit, covering what you assumed was his mouth through the mask.
âYeah! I was just cleaning!â You call back.
âWho were you talking too?â She asks her foot steps advancing.
âNo one! Here I come!â You let him go squinting your eyes.
âThis isnât over.â He whispers sharply, moving to the side.
âI can see that.â You grumble walking out the stall to greet your friend.
âŚto be continued?
#smut x reader#smut#smut fanfiction#fluff#cod modern warfare#call of duty#cod smut#kĂśnig x reader#kĂśnig call of duty#kĂśnig mw2#kĂśnig x y/n#kĂśnig smut#kĂśnig fluff#kĂśnig modern warfare#kĂśnig#kĂśnig x you#ghost cod#ghost fanfiction#ghost call of duty#cod fluff#call of duty fluff#masked men#ghost mw2#kĂśnig fanfiction#cod fanfic#codfluff#fanfic#smut fic#konig smut#konig mw2
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The New Doctor
âOh come on, another one?â Dr. Luke Hoffer groaned as his pager went off.
Another patient to add to the growing list. He walked briskly towards the room where his newest patient awaited him. The young doctor knew he shouldnât feel this burnt out already. He just graduated medical school a few months ago, but they werenât lying when they said this part of his training would be busy. He couldnât recall the last time he had a night off, and the hospital he was rotating at didnât have the best clinical support. But he did his best to put on a smile as he entered his new patientâs room.
âBro, whatâs up?â Luke maintained his smile but inwardly cringed.
âMr. Reedy, correct?â Luke asked. The name sounded familiar. One of the senior doctors shared the same last name. But unlike Dr. Reedy, this man looked like your stereotypical bro. Similar to the frat guys who Luke used to see piss drunk during his college EMS days, âI see you mustâve injured your arm there.â
âDude, the name is Cole.â Cole chuckled dumbly, âMr. Reedy is my dadâs name.â Luke nodded. He didnât have time for this, âBut yeah broski, totally wiped out. Brett said I couldnât climb a tree drunk, but like I knew I could.â
âEvidently not.â Luke thought, jotting down a few notes.
âAnd like, I know what youâre thinking. Broken arm. Mustâve fucked up and like I did, bro. But I made it to the top.â Cole smirked and went to punch the air victoriously but recoiled from the pain, âSo yeah doc. Thatâs why Iâm here.â
âI see, well thank you for sharing.â Luke replied, âWould you mind if I just listened to your heart and lungs? Iâll check out your arm in just a moment.â Cole nodded and Luke started his exam.
âOh sick dude. Iâve always thought those steth... stetho-things... the ear listeny thingies were pretty sick.â
âStethoscope.â Luke said bluntly, leaning in to listen, âAnd I need you to be quiet during this part of the...â
BURRRRPPPPPP
Luke recoiled as the most foul smelling burp blasted him in the face. It smelled of cheap beer and chicken wings. He immediately took a step back and did his best to hold back a gag. Cole blushed and chuckled awkwardly.
âSorry bro, maybe you should check out my stomach.â He chuckled.
Luke forced a grin, all while mentally gagging. Maybe Cole was right about that. Whatever had crawled into Coleâs stomach and died definitely needed more help.
______________________
Luke sat at his desk after finishing his exam with Cole. Luckily there hadnât been any other surprise burps. The young doctor continued typing away, trying to get as much paperwork done before the next inevitable wave of new patients. He hoped they werenât like Cole. Sure, there was nothing outright wrong with the guy. But he reminded Luke of all the stereotypical meatheads he encountered growing up. Words like brash, loud, stupid, sexy... Sexy?
âWhere did that come from?â Luke thought as he massaged his temples, âMust be from lack of sleep. Yeah, totally.â He yawned and stretched his arms above his head.
âDr. Hoffer.â Luke turned towards the nurse that called his name, âYour patient in room 15 wanted to talk.â She raised an eyebrow and Luke looked at her quizzically, âUm, Dr. Hoffer, uhhh.â It looked like she was choosing her words carefully, âHave you been using a new deodorant?â
Luke raised an eyebrow, âUh no, why?â He raised his arm and was taken aback by the massive pit stain. But worse yet, the smell that followed caused him to gag, âOh god, I mustâve forgot tonight.â He blushed, âThanks, Iâll grab a new top and I should have some extra deodorant in my locker.â She nodded and Luke groaned as she left, âHow fucking embarrassing.â He mumbled.
______________________
âYo doc, whatâs good?â Cole grinned when Luke entered his room.
âI heard you wanted to talk to me.â
âYeah bro.â He chuckled dumbly, âI uh forgot tbh.â Luke did his best to hide his annoyance, âBut uh, like do you have anything that can help me with my gains?â
âYour gains?â Luke couldnât believe what he was hearing, âNo, nothing in particular. Just keep going to the gym.â
âFuck I love the gym.â Cole remarked, âYo doc, did you hit the gym or somethinâ after we talked. Youâre lookinâ swole bro.â
Luke raised an eyebrow. Yeah, he hit the gym once in a while. Mostly cardio and occasional light weights. But he wasnât someone youâd describe as swole. But when he looked down at himself, he couldnât help but notice that his arms were just a tad tighter at the sleeves. And in general, the scrub top seemed to be a tighter fit, especially around his chest.
âMustâve grabbed a small or something.â He thought and turned back to Cole, âI had to change my scrub top. Totally forgot to wear deodorant tonight, bro.â Cole grinned but Luke blushed. First, why did he tell Cole he forgot deodorant? And second, why did he just call his patient bro?
âYo, you and me both, man.â Cole chuckled and took a whiff of his pit, âSmells ripe tonight. Nothinâ wrong with letting your natural scent come through.â He raised his hand to give Luke a fist bump.
âNo thank you, I uh need to go see another patient.â Luke said, quickly rushing out of Coleâs room.
______________________
âHey, are you even listening to me?â Luke turned to face his newest patient- an older woman with stomach pain.
âUh yeah, sorry.â He said, scratching his firm chest absentmindedly.
âI donât think you were.â She replied. Luke internally groaned. Just another entitled boomer, âIt looks like youâre more interested in that stupid game.â She gestured to the TV. Â
âStupid game?â Luke chuckled. Baseball was far from stupid, although Luke couldnât understand why he was suddenly so interested in it, âWell yeah, tonightâs the big game. Like, if they win tonight, theyâll go to the playoffs.â
The womanâs face flushed red with anger, âGet out, I want to see another doctor.â Â
Luke shrugged, âFine by me.â He barely noticed the hairs now poking out from his collar.
But when he left the room, something dawned on him. Did a patient just fire him? He narrowed his eyes, confused at what just happened. He was always commended on his professional demeanor and good patient relationships. This wasnât like him. He turned around and entered the room.
âHi maâam, Iâm sorry for my behavior. Is it okay if we restart?â He asked politely.
âYouâre lucky youâre cute.â The woman huffed.
And so Luke was able to breathe a sigh of relief. And despite his urge to turn and watch the big game, he did his best to do a thorough exam.
______________________
Sitting at his desk, Luke pulled up the baseball game on his computer. He could watch and write notes at the same time. But the real distraction was his increasingly more uncomfortable scrub top. The sleeves were definitely way too tight on his arms and for a fleeting moment he thought that it would be best to go shirtless. But he shook the thought out of his mind and started typing.
âPatient presented with abdominal pain likely secondary to cholelith... chole...â He narrowed his eyes as he tried to think of the correct medical term. He should know this- it was basic, âLikely secondary to big stones.â He wrote confidently. He scratched his chin and was met with something that he knew couldnât be right. He quickly pulled out his phone and looked at himself in the camera, âSince when did I grow a beard?â He whispered, âI swear... I mean I had some fuzz but it never grows this quick.â But before he could think more on it, another page came through, âOf course...â He whispered.
______________________
âDude! Whereâve you been?â Cole asked as Luke entered his room, âDoc, you donât look so good.â Â
It was true. Luke looked and felt nauseous. The walk over was weird. He felt heavier somehow and unfamiliar in his own body. Each step required more thought as he adjusted to these new sensations.
âItâs nothing, brah.â Luke commented, barely registering what he said, âSo uh, like what did ya call me in here for?â
Cole grinned, âDude! Have you been watching the game?â Luke nodded, his eyes filling with joy.
âBro! Itâs awesome. Did you see that homer?â
âYou fuckinâ know it. By the way, wanna come back to my place and watch? A few of the bros are there and weâve got beer. And Andyâs bringing his sis. The one with the fat tits.â
Luke chuckled, his voice deepening as he did, âDude that sounds sick, and like beer is awesome but Iâm more into dudes.â Coleâs eyes widened.
âWait really bro?â He said and Luke feared he was about to be judged, âSame, man! Huhuhuh I just mentioned Andyâs sister âcause I assumed youâd be into that.â
âNah bro, Iâd much rather suck you off.â Lukeâs eyes widened this time as the words left his mouth. And while Coleâs smile widened, Luke was hit by a bombardment of thoughts telling him this was wrong, âShit, I shouldnât have...â
âI wonât tell anyone dude.â Cole remarked, âBesides, I could go for quickie right about now.â
âNo, this isnât right.â Luke insisted, âI uh... I need to go finish some notes.â He quickly left the room, not noticing that his scrub top was now straining against his growing musculature-threatening to rip at any moment.
______________________
Luke was growing more frustrated by the second. He tried to sit down to work on his notes, but he couldnât for the life of him remember basic medical terminology. Nor could he remember the correct format of a medical note. He instead opted to stare blankly at the baseball game.
âSir, you shouldnât be back here.â Luke looked up to see his nurse standing over him, âItâs for employees only.â
âHuhuhuh very funny, brah.â Luke replied with a grin, âBut like, Iâm the doc around here.â He went to fish out his ID but was struggling to find it, âUhhh like... just give me a second here...â
She raised an eyebrow, âLook sir, Iâll have to call...â
RIPPPPPPPPPPP
The nurse blushed as Lukeâs scrub top finally tore and fell to the ground, revealing his chiseled pecs and tight abdominal muscles. Luke for his part, didnât really seem to care as he continued to search for his ID. He looked up at her and chuckled.
âMustâve lost it, bro.â Luke remarked, scratching the back of his head. His exposed pit filled the room with his masculine musk, âUh like...â
âSir, Iâm going to have to call security if you donât leave immediately.â The nurse said firmly, doing her best to not stare at the hunk in front of her.
âBut like, Iâm the doc.â Luke insisted, growing somewhat frustrated, âLike look.â He gestured to his stethoscope, âDoctors always have steth... stetho-things... the ear listeny thingies.â
âStethoscopes.â The nurse replied, raising an eyebrow, âAnd Iâm pretty sure a doctor would know what they were called.â
âHuhuhuh I guess youâre right about that, brah.â Luke chuckled dumbly, âWell like, fine... Iâd rather hang out with my bros anyway.â
Luke stood up. If they didnât want him here, heâd go somewhere that people would. He walked with a confident swagger to room 15.
______________________
âBro! Looking swole! Whereâd your top go?â Cole asked as Luke entered the room.
âDude, my muscles canât be contained.â Luke chuckled dumbly, flexing his biceps, âBut like, letâs get out of here, brah. Everyone hereâs an asshole.â
âBro, I hear ya.â Cole remarked, âWhyâd ya think I took a break from this place?â
Lukeâs slow brain was confused, âWhatcha talkinâ about?â
âDude! You donât recognize me? Cole Reedy? Dr. Reedy? Well not really anymore I guess.â His dumb laughter filled the air. Luke just chuckled along with him, âSo, you ready to get the fuck outta here?â
Luke nodded enthusiastically, âI heard thereâre some bros watchinâ the big game. And beer.â
âYeah man! And I also heard thereâs a guy lookinâ to suck some dick.â Cole grinned. A lightbulb went off in Lukeâs smaller brain and he grinned.
âYou know what they say, brah. A blowjob a day keeps the doctor away.â Luke chuckled at his own joke and the two bros fist bumped.
Luke couldnât fully process what happened to him that night. Or how he wound up sucking Coleâs dick in the back of his truck. Or how he eventually got dared to climb a stupid tree while drunk. Or how he now found himself in the emergency room, this time as a patient. But what he did know, as he burped in the face of the doc taking care of him, was that he couldnât wait for their newest bro to join their ranks.
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electric touch (part 1)
Pairing: Bucky x medical team! reader
Summary: Getting a spot on the field medical team was your dream. And your closest work friend Bucky Barnes finally asking you out? That was the cherry on top of your good news. Now all you had to do was pass your training week. Seems easy enough until youâre faced with someone who doesnât want to see you win.
Warnings: abuse of power, verbal abuse, physical assault, some PTSD (but none of these are because of Bucky!!!!)
Wordcount: 7k
Part 2
Notes: hello! Are you hungry for a lil slice of âwho did this to youâ pie with a big dollop of protective Bucky Barnes on top? Dig in!! I aim to be as nondescript as possible for the reader but I will note reader is shorter than Bucky and wears glasses. Thank you for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts! please consider reblogging, it helps my work reach more lovely people here on Tumblr. <3 merci!
---
Your regular lunch dates with Bucky started unintentionally. In fact, your friendship with Bucky had started that way â very unintentionally.
In retrospect, you couldnât believe you had been late on your first day. You had intentionally set extra alarms to make sure you got to Stark Industries early.But you couldnât control the inconsistencies of the New York subway system. When you skirted into the training room, only one seat was left â beside Bucky Barnes himself.
It was funny to think that the mandatory onboarding applied to new Avengers, too.
Of course, you knew who he was â the former Winter Soldier â but you didnât realize he had to sit through the boring health and safety discussions and HR seminars like everyone else. When the first lunch break arrived, you turned to him and asked if he wanted to join you for lunch at the burger place down the street.
Initially, it looked like he was fighting off the urge to decline, but then he said: âSure.â
Your conversations were very stilted in the beginning, which you didnât mind. But as the week carried on, you felt the foundations of a friendship.
(He told you, later, that he appreciated your kindness that first day. That he had been really fucking scared to sit in that room with strangers judging him. He liked that you treated him like a normal person.)
It had grown organically since then â but you were simply just work friends. Your roles at Stark Industries slash The Avengers Initiative didnât always overlap, but you did occasionally see him in the halls or if he happened to be by medical when you were working. Then, one day, you saw him eating alone in the cafeteria and you dropped down across from him to catch up.
Then lunch turned into a routine for you both. Typically on Wednesdays youâd sit together, if Bucky wasnât on a mission or you werenât on the night rotation. Sometimes Sam or Steve or some of the other nurses joined you, but secretly, you liked when it was just you and Bucky. Sometimes it felt like he preferred it that way too.
âSo, guess what?â You sat down on the chair across from him, your tray knocking against his. He slowly moved his eyes from the pages of his book â he almost always had his nose in a book at lunch, regardless of the company â and matched your smile.
âI take it you got good news?â
You searched his face then frowned. âWait, do you already know? Thatâs not fair.â
âSam showed me the roster.â
A groan rumbled from your chest. âBoo.â You tipped your head to look at him as you paused. âCan you just pretend youâre about to hear this for the first time?â
Bucky smirked, putting down his book and politely stacking his hands to give you his full attention. âSure. Start again?â
âGuess what?â You repeated, rolling your eyes.
âIâve got no clue, doll. What?â
âYou are looking at the newest member of the field medical team!â The chair legs squeaked as you danced in celebration.
âCongratulations,â Bucky replied, a wide smile crossing his face. He reached out and offered his fist, which you met with your own. You knocked your knuckles into his twice then wiggled your fingers at one another - a silly secret handshake you had invented together over a Taco Tuesday lunch one day, mostly out of annoyance to Sam.
You deflated afterwards, though, as reality set in. âHopefully I can make it through training next week. Itâs going to be hard but.. I can do hard things.â
Bucky reached over and grabbed your hand, holding it for a moment though he quickly pulled back. âYouâre going to do great. You wouldnât have been picked if you werenât capable. Youâre more than ready and, well, uh, Iâm proud of you.â
You smiled, glancing down to where his hand had briefly made contact with yours. It felt.. hot, for some reason. You resisted touching the skin there. This had been happening more than you wanted to admit recently â a new spark when you saw him, when you touched. You thought you had easily avoided the possibilities of a developing crush on Bucky but.. something had been brewing for you. And maybe the same was happening with him, too - when you thought about how he looked at you, how considerate he wasâŚ
You wouldnât know with any certainty unless you asked and you were way, way too scared to ask. Ruining your friendship may not be worth it. Especially if you were joining the medical team that would accompany the Avengers on some of their missions. What if you made it weird? What if you went on one date and it was terrible and your friendship never recovered? What if you asked Bucky out and then he laughed in your face and â
âWe should go out and celebrate,â he cut you off.Â
Wait. Was his voice shaking?
You met his eyes. Was he nervous? âI still.. I have to pass the training.â
âI know,â he nodded. âAnd tomorrow I leave for.. an undisclosed location for the week. So. When I get back and youâve crushed the training and have the new job title, letâs go out.â
âJust you and me?â You asked, swallowing hard.
Bucky took a deep breath. âYeah. If you..â
âLike a date?â
He closed his eyes, face scrunched up. It was cute. âYeah, like a date, sweetheart. Just you and me.â
Okay, well, okay. Yes. Okay, that answered your question. You supposed the risk was being taken either way. There. He did the thing before you could even talk yourself out of it.
You smiled, nervously adjusting your glasses. Oh my god. You hadnât even answered. With eyes wide, you reached for him. âYes, that sounds.. that sounds wonderful. Iâd love that.â
He grinned, squeezing your hand. âFor a second there, I really thought I screwed all this up.â
---
Bucky couldnât believe it had taken him this long to finally just do it. Asking you out had been at the top of his list for a long time and although it scared the shit out of him, this follow-up feeling of anticipation had been totally worth it. Now he just needed to get through a grueling mission with a sweet reward at the end â a date with you.
You- the first stranger who treated him like a regular person. You - who cared so deeply about your job. You - who seemed to always hear his snarky comments and always laughed, giggled, snorted, at them. With a smile that could make his entire body warm up.Â
You. He couldnât wait for that damn date.Â
A date was the scary next step. But he was tired of waiting and tired of denying his feelings. And thank god you had reacted just as positively. The foundation of your friendship was so important to him but he had a feeling things could be even better. He prayed he wouldnât fuck it all up.
When he showed up at the compound early in the morning to get on the jet, Bucky was surprised to see Sam prepping in the pilotâs seat.
Sam jumped in with an answer before the question even left Buckyâs lips. âNatasha had to join Clint on the Belize mission, last minute. So itâs you and me, pal.â
Bucky rolled his eyes. Though he wasnât mentally prepared for a week with Sam, he could handle it. Bucky was certain he could handle anything that he faced this week, knowing it was your face on his mind keeping him going.
As you crossed his mind again, another thought surfaced.
âIf youâre here, whoâs taking over the training for the med field team?â Bucky reached for his phone then cursed. They were going dark for this mission so heâd left his phone in his locker. Although he had sent you a message after he got up that morning, he wanted to reach out one last time and send some extra reassurance your way.Â
âDonât worry,â Sam knocked his shoulder, standing up to do a final check of the gear. âYour girl is in good hands.â Sam added in a wiggle of his fingers in Bucky's direction.
You werenât Buckyâs girl.. yet. He didnât feel bothered by the term. In fact, he loved it and so badly wanted you to be okay with him saying it some day too. Though it was still worth correcting Sam. It didnât seem fair to put a label on something without consulting you first. Not to mention Samâs teasing about you and Bucky had been going on for months and Bucky did not want to indulge him.
âSheâs not mine,â Bucky replied, scrubbing a hand down his jaw.
Sam carried on. âBoone is doing the training protocol instead, but Iâll manage the final evaluations next week.âÂ
A quiet groan escaped Buckyâs lips. âBoone is a jackass.â
âI donât disagree that he can be a bit too self assured - but he has proved himself in the field and will be a great mentor to this cohort.â
âWasnât he one of the agents Steve benched a few months ago - after his annual physical? Whatâs the term they used - he was doping?â
Sam sighed. âHe was clean but a couple of his buddies were thrown out. But Boone is good, Buck. Sheâs gonna be fine.â With a final glance at the screen between them, Sam clapped his hands. âLetâs get this over with, shall we?â
---
When you applied for the job at Stark Industries for their medical team, you werenât entirely sure what the role was going to entail. Your years of working as a nurse at the busiest emergency room in Chicago had given you plenty of experience with, well, everything and anything imaginable. You were always prepared for the unexpected.
What you hadnât expected though was the pace - it was significantly slower than you imagined. Most of your days revolved around small visits from agents for anything from minor injuries and lacerations to annual physicals. On occasion youâd support when the Avengers came in, but usually they worked directly with Dr. Cho or the other on site doctors.
You figured the cure for your unrelenting desire for more was to get on the field medical team - a group of agents and trained nurses who accompanied the Avengers or other strike teams on missions, acting as a resource for any injuries to civilians and team members alike. Not every mission needed a team and sometimes it would involve last minute travel, but you didnât mind.
When your application for transfer was finally accepted, you couldnât get over how excited you were. You had been working hard for months getting into better shape, especially your stamina. Sure, maybe you could do a bit more when it came to targeted strength training but you had qualified on the initial testing to even get into the training level, so youâd be fine.
You could do this.
Truthfully, you were really excited about it. And Bucky had sent you the most encouraging message before he left that morning and you just.. You knew you could do this.
Bucky's words echoed: â...you wouldnât have been picked if you werenât capable. Youâre more than ready and, well, uh, Iâm proud of you.â
You were going to do this well and you were going to make yourself proud, too.
Most of your excitement depleted when you walked into the gym though. You joined the rest of the agents in the training group and braced yourself when you saw Agent Nathan Boone standing with his tablet, calling out names for attendance.Â
âWilson had to suit up as Falcon and jump on a critical mission this morning so Iâll be running the training program this week,â he explained as he sized up his group, which included you plus another half a dozen training agents.Â
Without a doubt, Boone was the worst replacement for Sam you could think of. Boone exuded a confidence you couldnât quite wrap your mind around, given his frat guy personality. Hiding behind his smarmy grin, linebacker build and perfectly coiffed hair - he was a real jackass.Â
You tried not to let your mind race as Boone walked you all through the upcoming week of training. Youâd be going over everything from basic self defense skills to hand to hand combat strategies to overall endurance drills. Then he explained that next week it was Sam Wilson whoâd be doing the final evaluations.
âSo letâs prove to him youâre all a good batch, okay?â Booneâs demeanor shifted as he got into his coaching mode. âLetâs start with a warm up run. Onto the treadmills.â
This wasnât your first interaction with Boone, though you werenât sure he would remember you.Â
During your first few weeks youâd been responsible for doing the annual physicals for most of the agents. It had been a very repetitive (and boring) assignment, until some anomalies came up in the test results. A few agents, including Boone, had weird things flagged on their blood and urine tests - mostly markers that indicated steroid use. Which was completely against standards for agents and employees at Stark Industries.Â
One of them, some bulky aggressive asshole, tried to convince you to look the other way but you had ultimately reported it. The fallout caused a huge uproar between the medical team and the agents, with the consequence coming down on a handful of agents who were fired due to drug use. Boone had escaped that fate somehow, passing his re-test with perfect results. And even though HR promised you it was a sealed case, you were always worried it had left a bit of a target on your back.
Nothing had come from it. The next round of physicals you assisted with didnât involve any of those field agents and no other concerns had been flagged. Everything seemed back to normal.
In fact, you had seen Boone once since that whole controversy. A few months ago you passed him flirting with one of the admins in your department but you kept your head down and ignored him. That was it.
Hopefully the week of training wouldnât be soured by your history with him but you figured it was safest to go in with an open mind.Â
Thankfully, by the end of your run, as you were moving onto some basic tactical drills, he continued treating you just like everyone else. Generally firm and distant overall, but nothing strangely out of the ordinary. His barked orders were delivered to everyone evenly. If he had any recollection of your connected history, he didnât bring it up.
The first day of training had been tough, especially since you still had a few extra hours of work to log afterwards. When you returned to your reporting station in the medical wing, you had to really settle your mind down and talk your way through the unkind thoughts racing around your brain.
You could do this.Â
The second day focused exclusively on muscular endurance, which wasnât really your strong suit but you managed to keep up with the group all the same.
Boone had the entire cohort going hard - with a lot of tough but constructive encouragement coming from him along the way. When one of the other trainees dropped their barbells, it seemed to irritate Boone immensely too. He let out a few curses as he helped them pick the weights back up then apologized for his reaction but the flare of anger was evident.Â
When you were all heading back to the locker rooms, it was one of the other agents muttering about âroid rageâ that raised a red flag for you.Â
It was during the third day of training that you felt the first tug of resistance with Boone. It was small things that you couldnât help but file away. The way he delivered supportive commentary to everyone else in the group but only gave you critical feedback. During one of the practical scenarios, he undermined all your answers.
âI see why youâd think that way if youâve never done this before but I can tell you by experience, it wouldnât work. Bit of an amateur way of looking at things, actually. You need to do better if youâre going to be in the field with experts. Are you sure you passed the interview for this role?â
He said things in a way that didnât always seem personal to you, but he certainly delivered them in a condescending tone.Â
But, maybe, well, maybe you were just reading into things. You were feeling tired already and not really sleeping, so your focus was a bit off.Â
Yeah, you could do better, strategize better, think things through in a better way.
On the fourth day, after a morning of weapons training and spending time at the range, the session moved onto sparring drills. It was quite basic - Boone walked the group through easy to follow hand to hand techniques, spending time here and there with each person to adjust their form.Â
Everyone who qualified for the med team had to pass certain physical testing standards already. You had been working hard in the gym for months to get your mind ready, though you knew you werenât very experienced in anything related to defensive techniques.
When he got to you following one of the scenarios, there was a firm frown on his face. âYou need to be less in your head.â
You nodded, flexing and stretching your hands out. âOkay. Uhm okay, well, do you have any tips on how toââ
He was quick to cut you off. âFigure it out. I donât have time to teach you critical thinking skills.â Following a sharp finger snap, he pointed directly at you. âAnd whatâs with the glasses?â
âRan out of contacts this morning, but I can do without them if I need to. Itsââ
âTheyâre a safety risk.â
He didnât care for your explanation or offer you any other advice, instead just muttering something as he moved on and tapping something into the tablet. None of his feedback had been helpful. Christ, you figured maybe it was worth starting a list to consult with Sam about following your evaluation instead.Â
You just had to get through one more day with Boone. You were tired - down to your bones, from the physical and mental work during this week.
But it was nearly the weekend and that meant next week was approaching. Most importantly, the training would be done and you would have a real date with Bucky on the books, too. You couldnât wait.
---
The last training day was mostly a culmination of everything you had gone over from the week. There was more endurance testing, some strength and performance work and the day ended with more sparring and situationals.Â
You knew this was the light at the end of the tunnel. And when everything was wrapping up, you were relieved to finally be done with taking instructions from Boone, too.
Until his final speech. âYouâve been a great group and I would say most of you are ready for next week. Wilson will be impressed.â After a few more notes and instructions for the following week, he dismissed everyone. As you headed back towards the locker room, he called your name.
That made your stomach drop. He waved you back over towards the mats.
âI just wanted to give you a heads up,â Boone started slowly, eyes glancing around the empty room before he looked down at his tablet screen. âHere is the report on your training this week.â He turned the device so you could read over it.
After the first line, you took it from his hands. âWait - what?â
âI just donât think youâre ready.â Boone crossed his arms. âYouâve got the medical knowledge, sure. But the rest of it, even if you had another two months to train, Iâm doubtful.â He took the tablet back and continued scrolling, as if he hadnât just delivered such a disappointing blow to you. âItâs up to you whether you still want to do your test with Sam next week, but if I was in your shoes, Iâd tap out.â
You swallowed hard, head tipped slightly to the side as you took in what he was saying. âThat doesnât make any sense. I kept up with everyone here this week.â
âThis is a controlled environment; I donât think you can hack it in the field.â Boone shrugged. âLike I said, youâre more than welcome to do your evaluation but I donât think this will impress The Falcon enough to solidify your spot on the field team.â
âGood thing youâre not in charge of this decision then,â you bit in return, taking a step back. It felt like he was egging you on and you didnât like it. Even worse that you were alone with him in the gym. âI donât have to prove shit to you.â
âYou donât have to, or you simply canât?â He countered, tossing the tablet to the side as he crossed his arms. He sized you up, eyes drawing up the shape of your body. âLetâs try something.â He motioned to the mats. âIâll give you another chance to change my mind about that report. Maybe I misread your abilities and intentions.â
You knew the right thing to do would be to walk away and ignore how he was antagonizing you. But a tiny voice in the back of your head kept reminding you that you were good, that you had earned your place here. That you needed to show him that.Â
No, you didnât.
Yes, you did.
You took a deep breath and stepped forward, placing yourself in the middle of the mat. âFine. Letâs do it.â
Boone laughed, standing in front of you. He scanned you over again. âScenario. Youâre in the field, thereâs a civilian who needs medical attention. Youâre alone with them as everyone else explores the area for threats. But, it's night time, it was a busy bit of action and ââ Boone reached over and pulled your glasses off. âAnd you lost your glasses in the chaos.â
Before you could protest about the logistics of this stupid scenario, he threw them to the side.
You shook your head and immediately stepped back. âWhat the fuck?â
âMaybe you should have worn your contacts today.â He replied and this time, there was something more at the edge of his words. Something unsettling.
This was a bad idea. But he was waiting for you to reply, to call his bluff and tap out. You growled to yourself and stayed.
âThe civilian has a broken limb so youâre on the ground beside them.â Without even hesitating he placed both his hands on your shoulders and shoved you down to your knees.
None of this made any lick of sense. This wasnât a scenario youâd end up in. You wouldnât be alone or youâd call for backup.
He continued without a second thought, moving to stand behind you, placing his hand on the crown of your head. âAnd someone comes at you from behind â now youâre compromised and so is your civilian.â
You sat there on your knees, chock still. A red flashing light was going off in your mind but for some reason, you stayed.
A low, grumbly laugh escaped him. âSee? Not only are you a terrible nurse but you have no fucking instinctââ
You immediately swung your leg up to hook behind him, not sending him down to the ground but gaining enough of your own momentum to plot out your next move. Planting a foot, you lunged forward and grabbed his waist, pulling him towards the mat.
That really set off whatever anger had been simmering in him. The next thing you saw was the training mat as your face and torso were being shoved against it.Â
âWhat the fuck is wrong with you?â Your shouting felt useless as your body writhed under his weight. Your cheek dragged across the plastic mat as you moved, burning against your skin. âGet off of me, youââ
âDefend. Yourself.â Boone barked back, adjusting to grab your arm. He gripped your elbow, then twisted your wrist behind your back. A jolt of pain rushed down your shoulder. âTook me a few days but then I remembered your face.â
You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut. âPlease just stop. What isâwhy are youââ
âThree of my friends, my brothers â you ruined their lives, you know that? They lost all their job prospects, they have fuck all left because of what you did. You know, we need that stuff - to keep up with supersoldiers. There is nothing fucking wrong with some pharmaceutical help. If Iâm backing up Captain America, I deserve the boost.â With his knee pressing against your back, he leveraged himself to sit up a bit straighter. But his grip on your wrist remained, growing tighter and tighter. âIf you had just turned the other way and ignored those testsââ
âI was doing my job,â you mumbled back at him. âThey were the ones who broke the rules andââ
His voice hadnât quite grown to shouting but the intensity grew. âAnd you are the one who suffers now, alright? And you sure as hell arenât joining the field team. Iâm going to make sure of it.â
---
All Bucky wanted to do when they got back to the compound was text you. It was late Sunday night but he didnât care.
After the grueling week he and Sam had, Bucky took comfort in knowing soon enough heâd get to see you. He wanted to know about everything from last week - from training to everyday life, he just wanted to talk to you. Crossing the threshold from friends to something more was scary but during his long, sleepless nights, you provided a strange sense of comfort to him.
Without doing a dang thing. Just knowing you made him better, inspired him to be better and to be present.Â
âHey,â Sam tugged on Buckyâs arm before he headed to the locker room. âMedical check first. Then youâre free to send your little smiley face emojis to her.â
Bucky grumbled but didnât have the energy to argue with Sam. The mission had gone well but hadnât been the smoothest for either of them. While they both returned unharmed, Bucky knew coming down from these sorts of weeks properly was important.
Finally, after a clearance from the nurse and a quick shower - Bucky was turning his phone back on.
He dismissed all the messages from Steve and an Avengers group chat he liked to ignore then finally found his way to his conversation with you. Seeing a slew of your thoughts over the course of the week made him smile.
You: good luck this week - come back in one piece, please <3Â
You: made it through day one and two, turns out my five-story walkup apartment is good for my cardio skills after all lol You: remind me of that next time I complain about the stairs
You: day three has proved that I do need to work on my upper body strength You: wanna be my personal trainer? ;)
You: miss you, hope everything is going safely You: this week has really kicked my ass
Your messages did peter off by Friday and although Bucky longed for more, he assumed you were probably just tired after the long week. Plus, the training wasnât for the light of heart. Sam had shown him the schedule and although it was standard, its intensity was intentional. Not that Bucky doubted you - he knew youâd been preparing as best as you could since you had shown an interest in joining the field team months ago. But that could really exhaust someone by the end of it.
And tomorrow you had to power through a final evaluation with Sam too, so Bucky hoped you got to spend the rest of the weekend resting.
He dropped down onto one of the benches and planned his response.
Bucky: hey doll, made it back safe and sound Bucky: in one piece, I promise :) Bucky: canât wait to hear about last week, Iâm sure you did great Bucky: good luck tomorrow, Iâll come find you after the eval Bucky: sweet dreamsÂ
---
Bucky felt a little bit silly, lingering outside the training gym. At least he wasnât pacing, that would have been an even worse look. He leaned against the opposite wall to the doors, arms crossed.
Something just felt a bit off for him and, well, finally seeing you would help ease his mind. It was just strange â the lack of communication. Sure, he had sent his message quite late the night before but he assumed he might hear something back from you during the day.
But no, it had been radio silence. He could attribute it to your needing to prepare for your evaluation but that didnât seem like enough of a justification. In all the times you and he had been friends, you always managed to send a reply.
He would just have to settle for an in person update, following your testing with Sam. Five other agents exited the gym by mid afternoon, but you never showed up at the door.Â
Sam did eventually emerge, tapping quickly against his tablet. He came to a halt when he spotted Bucky waiting, arms now tightly locked behind his back.
Bucky looked over Samâs shoulder, trying to glimpse into the gym before he met his eyes. âHowâd she do?â
Sam let out an awkward laugh. âWell, she didnât show. She sent me an email earlier saying that she was sick.â
Buckyâs brow furrowed slightly. âOh.âÂ
âI know, weird. Whatâs even more weird though is that when I said we could reschedule her for another date, she tapped out.â Sam raised his shoulder to shrug then showed Bucky the screen.
Bucky scanned over the message and frowned. It was true. Your reply to Sam was short, explaining you didnât want to reschedule and declined any further interest in the field team. That was it. You were out.
âGiven how she sent me a five-paragraph essay explaining how excited she was to join the team, this seems out of character.â Sam tucked the screen under his arm and patted Bucky on the shoulder. âGive me an update after you talk to her.â
âWhat makes you thinkââ
âOh, I already see your wheels turning. Youâre doing the math on how quickly you can get to her place.â Sam called after him as Bucky turned to leave. âLet her know I can reschedule her anytime!â
---
You knew you couldnât ignore Bucky forever. It was just.. it felt like too much, thinking of a way to reply. After what happened with Boone on Friday, every single thing in your life felt like climbing the steepest mountain.
It was absurd how quickly things had escalated. You should have just walked away the instant Boone brought up your evaluation. Getting on that mat with him was really fucking stupid and.. here you were.
You could barely remember how you got home Friday â dazed and confused and numb. After Boone finished screaming and you had stopped trying to fight back, you curled up on yourself. You fought back tears over the humiliation and pain, hands shaking as you grabbed your things from the locker room. One ridiculously overpriced cab ride later and you made it home to your studio in Astoria.
Then you cried in the shower and all the way to your bed - where you stayed as long as you possibly could on Saturday, dousing yourself in painkillers just to try and stay asleep.
You knew you needed to go to urgent care, or even just an emergency room - somewhere you could afford the x-ray. You had never broken a bone before but you had seen plenty of hand fractures during your time working in triage. You couldnât make a fist, your hand was bruising up towards your wrist and the pain was excruciating. The image of Boone stomping on your hand and wrist as you tried to crawl away was imprinted in your mindâŚ
You were stuck on the climb though. The mental battle of trying to figure out the best lie to tell the admitting nurses anywhere was daunting. Christ, how would you explain this?
You had to - you had to tell someone. The way Boone had flown off the handle, how he attacked you verbally and physically, he couldnât get away with it. You knew the right thing to do but⌠fuck if you werenât scared. He had made it pretty clear heâd be keeping an eye on you. And there was no way youâd be able to do your test with Sam now.
If you reported him, youâd probably have to get HR and the police involved and what if he denied everything andâ
You ended up in a helpless loop every single time.
Saturday came and went. You only left your apartment to visit the nearest drugstore for a new compression bandage and more pain medication. Sunday passed by just the same. You skipped your normal spin class and barely spent time outside of your bed.Â
The pain in your hand was growing worse and worse. You had to use your left hand to send Sam and your manager messages - because even just moving your right hand made your stomach swirl. And the guilt about not responding to Bucky was growing bigger and bigger too.Â
How could you explain it? Boone had pressed your buttons and you pushed back and look what happened. How could Bucky be proud of you now?
Your phone had buzzed mid afternoon, just after you were supposed to be doing your session with Sam.
It was Bucky - worried and asking if you needed anything for whatever illness was plaguing you.Â
You ignored it.
When he called, you ignored that too.
You were balled up on the end of your couch, eyes glazed over as another episode of your favourite show loaded up on Netflix. You knew you needed to eat something, that the pain medication on an empty stomach was a recipe for disaster. But⌠you couldnât get up. Laying perfectly still with a bag of frozen vegetables on your hand was the closest thing to relief you had.
Then, someone was knocking at your door. The noise made you gasp, though you couldnât move. You could ignore the noise along with everything else. It was probably just your downstairs neighbour back to complain about your TV again and â
Whoever was at the door knocked again, this time calling out your name.Â
You recognized the voice.
Bucky.
He called your name out again. âListen, I donât care if youâre sick. I just want to make sure youâre alright. I grabbed some soup from that place I was telling you about.â
You sucked in a deep breath and pulled yourself up off the couch. You really, really wanted to see him - just the idea of his smile made everything feel a bit better. But then you couldnât hide anymore and⌠hiding felt safe.
âIâm okay,â you finally replied as you got approached. âFeeling better but I might be contagious, Buck.â
You sensed some relief from him as his feet shuffled on the other side of the door. âSweetheart, I.. I canât even get sick, okay? I just need to see you.â
âMy apartment is a mess.â
âI donât care.â
You swallowed the lump in your throat. âBucky, Iâm.. Iâm not at my best right now.â
âI donât care.â He said your name once more. âPlease.â
You pulled up the hood of your sweatshirt then reluctantly reached for the door knob.
---
When you finally opened the door, Bucky was relieved. But when you immediately turned away to return to your couch without a word, his relief felt misplaced. Something was wrong. Your sudden weekend illness and dropping out of the new job training werenât adding up to anything that felt good.
He was worried.
Bucky had never been inside your apartment before. There were a handful of occasions after work or some happy hour thing when he dropped you off but this was new. He liked the idea of seeing your home but he wished it had been different circumstances.Â
Home was a little studio, with a compact kitchen ahead of him across from the door. Beside it was a cozy living room area separated from the bed and windows, divided by a short bookcase. It was so very you and Bucky wanted nothing more than to just be there with you, scan over the books you like and curl up together on the couch.
But it wasnât the time to daydream. Instead, he stepped into the kitchen to deposit the takeout bag, retrieving the soup before moving to where you were curling back up in your blankets.Â
âHow are you feeling?â He took another step closer but stopped when you leaned away from his approach. He took a seat opposite you and extended the container in your direction.Â
âYeah, Iâm.. okay,â you replied with a shrug. âThanks for the soup.â You took it from him, reaching across yourself awkwardly with a shaking hand, and rested it on your lap.Â
He took the moment of silence to get a better look at you. Behind your glasses, your eyes were swollen, as if you had been crying. Bucky watched you carefully maneuver the spoon and it wasnât lost on him you were favouring your left hand. In fact, your right arm was barely moving.Â
âDo you need anything else? I could run to the pharmacy..â He trailed off as his eyes shifted to your coffee table, which was littered with an array of pill bottles. Mostly painkillers and what looked like a melting bag of frozen peas. And tucked under the table was⌠a half empty bottle of wine. Not exactly the type of self medication for a stomach bug or the common cold.
You closed your eyes, taking another taste of the soup before gently moving it to the table. âI think the worst of it has passed. Just.. tired now, I guess. Iâll be back at work tomorrow.â You smiled, just barely, then it disappeared as your eyes shut.
Bucky considered that the perfect opportunity to change the subject. Your name left his lips. It was quiet. You peaked one eye open to look at him.
âWhat happened last week?â he asked.
You laughed, though it came out quite empty. âJust five very intense, rigorous training days. I wasnât great but.. I managed, I guess.âÂ
Bucky cut to the chase, though he couldnât predict your reaction. âSo how come youâre not doing the final evaluation?âÂ
A long sigh escaped you, rolling your eyes before leaning back again. You stared at the ceiling. âShould I just start adding you to all my correspondence with Sam?â
âDonât be mad at Sam,â Bucky replied. âI asked him and he only told me because he was worried.â
You laughed again, with more of your body. The same emptiness remained and this time it seemed to cause you pain. You winced, swallowing an uncomfortable look on your face as you turned to peer at him. âIâm not mad at Sam. Iâm mad at..â You shook your head. âAt myself, I guess.â
âWhy?â
âIt doesnât matter, alright? Itâs over and I missed today andââ
âSam offered to reschââ
âBucky, it doesnât matter!â You snapped this time, cutting him off.Â
Bucky shook his head. Something else was going on. He had never seen you like this before - despondent and⌠broken. Sure, your friendship had rarely escaped the walls of work but the foundation between you both was solid. He had seen your ups and downs, and you had seen his too - recalling bad dates and ranting about missions and laughing over lunch and all of it.Â
He knew you. The person sitting across from him, it wasnât you.Â
âSweetheart, please tell me whatâs going on.âÂ
Your eyes were closed again, head shaking. âNothing is..â Your lip trembled. âMaybe you should just go..â
Bucky stood from the couch, but he didnât move to the door. Instead, he crouched right in front of you. âIf thatâs what you really want, Iâll go, okay? Iâd never stay if you didnât want me here. But you opened that door for me. You could have already sent me away, soup in hand. Iâm here right now because I care about you.â He said your name again, like a plea for you to look at him. âI can help, okay? Whatever is going on, I can help. Let me help, please.â
Your breath picked up, intertwined with winces of pain as you adjusted on the couch. You crossed your legs then moved your arms carefully, using your left hand to tear away your sweatshirt. Finally, you opened your eyes and extended your right arm to Bucky.
Despite being wrapped in a compression bandage, the swelling was evident on your fingers. Bruises littered your hand too and continued upwards to your t-shirt line.Â
Bucky dropped to his knees, looking from your face down towards your arm. He whispered out your name, desperately trying not to fill in the blanks without getting more information from you. âWhat happened?â
You simply shook your head, swallowing whatever response was trying to escape.Â
âCan Iââ He motioned to your hand, cautiously reaching for it. You didnât move, allowing him to unwrap the bandaging. You winced at the touch and change in pressure, eyes clamping shut again as you breathed deeply.Â
Bucky skated his fingers along the side of your forearm, down towards your wrist and hand. Light shades of purple and blue decorated your skin but the swelling was what concerned Bucky the most.Â
âIâm worried something is broken.â You finally said quietly, letting out another groan of pain as Bucky flipped your hand over to assess the underside.Â
He wanted to reply with âyeah, no shitâ but figured that wouldnât be helpful. If you hadnât sought out medical attention by now, there was probably a good reason. You were smart, a nurse who could easily figure out her own symptoms. But something was stopping you. Embarrassment, guilt.. Maybe fear?Â
Bucky was gentle as he held your hand. Christ, his mind was racing. âWhat happened? Did you fall? Did something go wrong last week?â
You shook your head.
Although there was one giant fucking obvious glaring answer to his next question, Bucky wanted to hear your response. Maybe you had fallen or dropped something on it this weekend. Maybe you had crushed it between a door or something, anything else than someone hurting you. Because the thought of anyone doing that, inflicting any intentional harm â
Bucky sucked in a breath and looked back at you. Your lower lip was already trembling again. He had to ask. He didnât want to, but he fucking had to.
âSweetheart, who did this to you?â
âI should have walked away, Bucky. I..â You immediately trailed off, head shaking again as you tried to collect yourself.Â
With you, Bucky would be patient. He would always be patient. A few moments ticked by as he waited, still holding your injured hand in his.Â
âIt was supposed to just be a routine scenario, a test sort of thing I guess. But he was⌠he was volcanic. The anger erupted and he - he.. Bucky, I was just doing my job, itâs not my fault his friends lost theirs an-and he got so mad. I tried to get away but he just kept going.â
He said your name quietly. âTake a deep breath for me, okay?â You did, breathing in tandem with him a few times as you steadied yourself. âYouâve gotta tell me a name, please.â
After another deep breath, you nodded. âIt was Boone.â You closed your eyes. âI think heâs taking drugs, steroidsâagain and he just.. I shouldnât have engaged him at all. And I tried to get away once I realized he was freaking out..â
Bucky stilled, lips pulled into a straight line. âHey, look at me.â He waited for you to meet his gaze. âThis isnât your fault.â God, he wanted to say so much more but the simmering anger below the surface was bubbling up. And that wasnât important. You needed an x-ray and real medical attention. Then, maybe he could face the rage coursing through his bones. âSweetheart, weâve gotta get this looked at, okay?â
Reluctantly, your head shook. âI know. I just.. I donât want to have to go to urgent care and explain what happened. I should have already gone and I feel so stupid about the whole thing and-andââ
He placed his free hand on your knee to stop you. âOkay. It's okay. I think I know where we can go. Let me make a few phone calls.â
---
PART 2
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#protective bucky barnes#story: electric touch
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TWST Headcanons: Housewardens at Disney World
Pairing: boyfriend!housewarden x gn!reader
Content warning: none
A/n: inspired by my recent trip to Disney. For sake of the story, it will be at Magic Kingdom at Disney World in Florida (though I have been to the one in California and Tokyo!)
Riddle Rosehearts
Has never been to Disney before. Itâs his first time
Lowkey scared of roller coasters and you tease him about whether or not heâs actually tall enough to ride
Fantasyland is his favorite area. Really liked Its a Small World
Did like the Mad Tea Party at first, but the spinning made him motion sick and he was pretty much done after that
Wants to get autographs from the characters, but worries it seems too childish. You have to basically initiate every character interaction
Definitely gets a sunburn from waiting outside in the long lines
Gets pins as souvenirs for Ace, Deuce, Trey, and Cater
You two get matching keychains which he clips to his school bag as a reminder of your trip together
Leona Kingscholar
Farena was taking Cheka and forced Leona to go along to make it a family trip. He begrudgingly agreed to go along since he was allowed to bring you.
Begrudgingly also wears the âKingscholar Family Disney Tripâ shirt you and his sister-in-law get
You guys stay at one of the park resorts
Leona really has no interest in any of the little rides, though he puts up with it because it excites you.
His favorite area is Frontierland. Big Thunder Mountain is his favorite ride (though he will never tell you that)
Also really liked Jungle Cruise and Pirates of the Caribbean rides.
Hates waiting in lines and buys the fast past for everything
Doesnât want any souvenirs (thinks theyâre dumb) but caves and gets a couple pins and a matching shirt for you guys to wear at the next park you go to
Heâs honestly ready to go after a few hours. The walking and heat get on his nerves, but he sticks it out for you (and Cheka)
Azul Ashengrotto
Also his first time to Disney
Complains about the price of the food (itâs freaking expensive so who can blame him)
Also not really a big rollercoaster fan, but doesnât mind going on some of the rides like Peter Panâs Flight and Under the Sea-Journey of the Little Mermaid.
Gets motion sick
While on Tianaâs Bayou Adventure, the ride captured an ugly photo of him screaming during the big drop and you refuse to delete it, despite his protests.
Turns collecting and trading pins with the cast members into a literal auction. Manages to get a bunch of rare and exclusive pins
Blushes furiously when taking pictures with any of the Disney princesses
Nearly passes out from exhaustion by the time you guys make it to your hotel. Heâs never walked so much in his entire life
Kalim Al-Asim
Worldâs biggest Disney Kid
You guys probably stay at one of the top resorts right by the park, so you get there right as it opens.
Offered to buy out the entire park but you vehemently opposed.
Loves Adventureland. The flying carpet ride is his favorite
You practically have to keep a tight leash on him or else heâll run off without you
Very much spends money carelessly in the gift shop. He wants to get a souvenir for EVERYONE he knows and whatever you want he will get without hesitation
Buys several pairs of ears and depending on where youâre at in the park, he rotates them out to be able to wear each one.
Enjoys taking pictures with all the characters. His autograph book is basically filled by the end of the day
Gets you two basically VIP seats to the firework show at the end of the night. You have the perfect view
Vil Scheonheit
Wears matching couple Disney shirts
Is overly prepared: sunblock, check. Water bottles, check. Snacks, check. Umbrella, check. Rain poncho, check. Anything else you could possible need, he has it in his bag
Takes the worldâs best photos of Cinderellaâs castle. How he managed to do that with so many people is a mystery. (He doesnât post anything until after you leave to avoid fans)
The rides sometimes take photos of the guests during them. Every photo Vil looks flawless while they manage to catch you screaming or not paying attention. Itâs infuriating
Honestly, Vil cares more about taking pictures with the characters than getting on any actual rides, but you do a nice mix of both.
People lowkey mistake him as a prince or someone as part of the cast that they can get an autograph from
Refuses to get on any water rides or rides on water as heâs worried it would ruin his hair and makeup
During the fireworks show, pulls you in close to kiss you in front of the castle. Props to one of the photographers who happens to catch that magical moment on camera
Idia Shroud
Did not want to go at first. Only goes because Ortho really wants to. The three of you wear matching shirts
Hates the crowds. Like, a lot
Obsessed with Tomorrowland. You have to literally drag him to other parts of the park. Otherwise heâd stay there all day
Space Mountain is his favorite ride.
During Monsterâs Inc Laugh Floor, he gets picked out in the audience during the skit, the spotlight shining on him. Nearly dies then and there
Buys a bunch of the munchkins surprise boxes and is trying to collect the entire set
Also the type to buy fast passes. Or he hacks into the system to code your cards to have infinite passes. Waiting in line? Never.
Secretly knows all the lyrics to most Disney movies. You catch him singing along during the parade
Though his social battery is damn near dead by the end of the night, he toughed it out because of how happy it made you and Ortho
Malleus Draconia
Itâs his first time at Disney too. You get him a first time visitor button from the guest services desk, which he is very giddy about
Lilia and the others tag along, but Lilia makes sure that Sebek isnât breathing down Malleusâs neck so that he and you can actually enjoy the park
The Haunted Mansion was his favorite ride. He loves the dark ambiance of it. He makes you all ride it at least 3 times.
Mickey ears donât fit quite right around his horns, but you make it work
Likely believes that the princesses are actual princesses of different neighboring kingdoms and you donât have the heart to correct him
Also doesnât really understand that the characters, like Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck are people in costumes
When you canât see the parade well, he lifts you up with ease.
Is amazed by the fact that thereâs ice cream shaped like Mickey Mouse
Gets you a reservation at Cinderellaâs Royal Table. The dinner is like a fairy tale, with character appearances and fine dining. You guys have the perfect view from your table to watch the fireworks
#twisted wonderland#x reader#leona kingscholar#malleus draconia#twst x reader#twst#vil schoenheit#riddle rosehearts#azul ashengrotto#kalim al asim#idia shroud#twst leona#twst riddle#twst vil#twst azul#twst malleus#twst x Idia#malleus x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#vil shoenheit x reader#twst headcanons#twst hcs#heartslabyul#savanaclaw#octavinelle#scarabia#pomefiore#ignihyde#diasomnia
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Neighbors
nico hischier x fem!reader
summary - reader canât bring herself to talk to her new neighbor
notes - guess whoâs backkkkkk!!! yâall i have missed writing so much, and iâm so happy i could get this out to yâall. iâm a bit rusty so keep that in mind while reading, but i hope you enjoy it anyways. and as always, happy reading đŤśđź
request - from my 400 follower celly - âAbort mission, I repeat, abort mission!â âWhat do you mean abort mission? All you were doing was introducing yourself to your neighbor?â âYeah, and heâs too attractive. I can never speak to him againâ with either luke or nico
[3.3k]
âI really think today is the day, Mia,â you speak in to the cell phone wedged in-between your shoulder and cheek, putting away a few decorative trinkets on the newly hung shelf above your TV.
âYouâre telling me youâre actually going to talk to him?â She questions, her tone telling you she doesnât believe you in the slightest.
âThatâs exactly what Iâm telling you miss âI donât believe my best friend has the guts to talk to a cute guy,ââ you huff out, stretching your arm as much as you can to reach the high shelf.
âI mean, your track record precedes you, Y/N. Youâve said for three weeks now youâre going to introduce yourself and the universe has given you every opportunity possible,â she references the several hallway and elevator encounters youâve told her about. âbut, instead of hearing about a meet cute to an epic love story each week, all I get are stories of why you couldnât say more than a garbled hi to him before darting into your apartment.â
Finally reaching the shelf, you huff both in response to her statement and the large reach you just accomplished.
After moving in to your new apartment a month and a half ago, you learned on your second day here that your neighbor directly across the hall from you is the most attractive guy youâve ever met.
You ran into him while carrying a few boxes up to your new space, almost plowing him over while stepping out of the elevator because of your blocked field of view from the stack of boxes.
You apologized profusely, your line of sight still blocked, telling the stranger you know you shouldnât be carrying this many boxes at once, but you really didnât want to make another trip down and up. You made a bad joke about deciding to test out your sonar detection incase your eye sight ever left, and gave a few low, drawn-out beeps resembling those youâve heard on TV.
When you heard the deep chuckle from the other side of the boxes, you turned yourself sideways to see who you almost ran over.
The man standing before you was simply the most attractive man youâve ever seen in your life. His dark, incredibly soft looking hair matched his dark brown eyes perfectly. The light dusting of facial hair covering his face was definitely working in his favor. The smile on his face was really what made your cheeks heat, though.
Feeling the embarrassment of your terrible joke creep up your neck, you slipped out one more sorry and then all but sprinted to your (thankfully) unlocked door, not even offering your name.
It was that night you told Mia about the handsome stranger, vowing that you were going to redeem yourself one of these days.
Since then, youâve ran into him what seems like every other day, but never could find the brain power to actually speak to him. Itâs either the clichĂŠ of both of you leaving your apartment at the same time, or you both end up in the elevator together in complete silence due to your avoidance of uttering anything embarrassing in the confined space. There was one time you unknowingly parked your car beside of his, the two of you walking together the entire way up from the garage to your floor with only a small hi and a wave from you, because you pretended to be listening to your headphones in order to avoid awkward small talk.
âWell, I was never ready all of those times,â you rotate your shoulder in a few circles, trying to work out the small sting you caused. âThis time Iâm ready. I can feel it.â
âIf I was the one living next to him Iâd be feeling something alright,â Mia quips back in a suggestive tone, leading you to scoff at her raunchy joke.
âMia, Iâm being serious. I think todayâs the day. Itâs Tuesday, so Iâm pretty sure he should be getting back from the gym around three, which means if I go down to the lobby and pretend to be getting back from a walk around that time Iâll have the perfect in,â you confide your plan in her, having thought about your strategy since last night.
âYou are being so insane right now, can you even hear yourself? Just go knock on his door and ask to borrow sugar or something. Then, when he asks what youâre cooking, invite him over for dinner and BAM! a date you didnât even have to try for,â she suggests.
âMia, that sounds like the start to a bad porno, Iâm not doing that,â you refuse her suggestion right as you hear several loud voices coming from the hallway outside of your door.
Walking over to look into the small peephole, you see not only your attractive neighbor, but several other insanely good looking-men standing outside of his door. You look down at the watch on your wrist, noticing itâs only two, confused as to why heâs home right now.
You can hear Mia chattering away in your ear, but you have no clue what sheâs saying, your brain too focused on the men in your hallway.
âMia, shut up. Heâs home,â you interrupt your best friend, causing her to pause momentarily.
âWhat do you mean heâs home? Did you not just tell me he would be home at three?â she asks you.
âI mean, thatâs how itâs been every Tuesday until now. But heâs home. And he hasâŚfriends over,â you whisper, worried that if you can hear them they can hear you.
âFriends? Like, other guys? Or does he have a bunch of girls over? Y/N, if he has a bunch of girls at his apartment right now maybe this isnât the kind of guy you want to go after. Seems like he canât make up his mind. Or maybe heâs trying to be the next Hugh Heffner and is holding auditions out of his apartment,â you listen to her ramble. âAnd if thatâs true you definitely donât want to involve yourself with all that. I mean, can you imagine-â
âMia, so help me God if you donât shut the fuck up right now Iâll hang up on you,â you snap out, not enjoying her wandering mind.
Watching the men on the other side of your door laugh and converse has you even more curious. Youâve wondered since you moved in what he does for work. The hours he comes and goes are often inconsistent and donât line up with any job you know of. He never seems to have the same days off, and sometimes you even go several days without seeing any sign of him.
Youâve wondered if he was a doctor, because it would explain the late nights and odd hours, but youâve never seen him wearing scrubs, all of the men in the hallway currently sporting athletic wear. You thought maybe he was a lawyer, because you see him wearing suits pretty often, but he never carries a briefcase or anything else to prove your theory. Youâve even contemplated that he owns his own company, seeing as he seems to work when he wants and would explain the random down time in the middle of week days.
Of course, you understand you also have a lot of free time during the week, but you have a typical, nine to five office job, you just havenât started at your new branch yet. Which is partially to blame for the new found obsession with your new neighborâs whereabouts. You have way too much free time on your hands.
âDamn, someoneâs grumpy today. Itâs all that pent up frustration from not talking to mystery man. Just go outside and say hi already. Or is today really not the day?â
Even though she canât see you, you roll your eyes at your friendâs words.
Sheâs teased you endlessly about this since the second you mentioned him to her. Sheâs even made a tally of how many times youâve claimed you were going to speak to him and then didnât (13 times to be exact). You know sheâs just poking fun, but you also know she wonât stop doubting you until you actually do it.
Itâs this that prompts you to tell her âYou know what, fuck it. Today is the day,â and open your door.
The voices in the hallway stop, all four heads turning to look at you.
Your phone is still being held to your ear with one hand, while the other hangs down at your side.
Your neighbor, standing in the middle of the group, gives you a warm smile, taking in your appearance.
When you look down at your stained t-shirt and your neon pink pajama pants, you mentally palm your forehead, not even thinking to change before making your grand gesture.
Looking back up at the group, heat rising up your neck and to your cheeks, you freeze, the simple âHiâ lost on your tongue.
With furrowed brows and a tilted head, your neighbor speaks out a soft, âHey there, you okay?â
You nod your head a little too aggressively and manage to squeak out a âFine! Peachy! Never been better!â before slamming your door.
Turning and leaning against the cool door, you close your eyes and try to block out the memory of what just happened.
âGirlâŚI donât know what just happened, but that didnât sound like a hi,â Mia speaks from the phone, startling you, having completely forgotten you were on the phone.
âAbort mission, I repeat, abort mission,â you shake your head no.
âWhat? Abort mission? All you were doing was introducing yourself to your neighbor? Just go back out there and try again,â she suggests, like itâs the easiest thing in the world.
âYeah, and heâs too attractive. I can never speak to him again. Plan be damned, Iâm going to have to move apartments again,â you whine out to her, letting the dramatics take over.
âOh shut up, itâs not that bad. Iâm sure heâs already back to talking about whatever with his friends. Heâs probably not even going to remember it by the next time you see him,â she refuses to play into your drama. âPlus, youâre a catch. Iâm sure heâs been as curious about you as you are about him. Sometimes the silent treatment works wonders.â
A knock on the door youâre leaning against startles you, causing you to jump away from it as if itâd burned you.
âMia, someoneâs knocking,â you whisper, looking out of the peep hole to see your neighborâs smiling face looking back at you.
You let out a small yelp, jumping back again while covering your mouth with your hand, knowing itâs likely he just heard you.
âMia itâs him. Heâs literally knocking on my door, what do I do?â you ask he as he knocks again.
âOh my god, you dumbass, answer it! This is your in!â she exclaims through the speaker.
âI canât answer it! Iâm wearing a ridiculous outfit! And I just opened and slammed my door in his face like a freak. Plus-â youâre cut off by a muffled voice.
âYou alright in there? I know youâre standing at the door, I can hear your voice. I just want to make sure youâre okay and didnât need anything. Sorry if we startled you,â his accented voice carries through the thin door.
âIâm hanging up now, go talk to your man,â Mia chuckles and hangs up the phone, leaving you on your own to deal with the situation before you.
Cursing her, you bring your phone away from your face and wipe your hands on your fluffy pants.
âUh, yeah, Iâm fine. Sorry about that,â you speak through the door.
âYou know, if you open the door I wonât bite,â your neighbor jokes, causing another wave of embarrassment to settle in your stomach, not knowing why you decided that talking to him through the door was a normal thing to do.
Taking a step towards the door, you reach for the handle and open it. Youâre greeted with the handsome stranger standing not even a foot from your door, no sign of his friends.
He gives you an amused, but warm smile.
âSee? Itâs just little old me out here,â he brings his hands up in a surrender pose.
You give him a nervous laugh.
Observing his athletic attire, you admire the poorly hidden muscles peeking out from under his compression shirt. The sight makes your cheeks tinge red once again.
When he senses youâre not going to speak, he breaks the silence instead.
âSo, you sure youâre okay? You seemed a littleâŚfrazzled a few minutes ago. Wanted to make sure we didnât scare you or anything,â he starts. âI imagine four large hockey players standing outside of your door might seem a little intimidating to a single woman living alone,â he brings his hands down from his face, sticking them in the pockets of his athletic pants.
You wonder if the surprise is evident on your face. In all the time youâve spent brainstorming about his career, hockey never crossed your mind. You knew your new city had a huge hockey following, but you never thought you were living across from one of the sportsâ players.
Realizing you still havenât said anything, you clear your dry throat.
âOh, no, you guys didnât scare me. I justâŚI donât know why I opened the door, to be honest. Guess I had a major brain fog moment or something,â you lie, hoping he buys your lame explanation.
The man standing in front of you lets out a small laugh, shaking his head slightly.
âWell, as long as we didnât scare you, I guess weâre alright then.â
âYup, weâre good,â you pop the âpâ, rocking on your heels slightly, needing to channel your nervous energy somehow.
You expect this to be the end of the conversation, but he still stands there, observing you.
âSo, do I get to know your name, neighbor?â he questions you, breaking the silence between the two of you for the second time.
His question surprises you slightly, not expecting him to drag the conversation out any longer.
âWell, Iâll tell you mine if you tell me yours,â you hear the words come out of your mouth, with an unintentional flirtatious undertone.
âNico,â he tells you with a smirk, leaving room for your own reply.
âY/N,â you move to cross your arms over your chest.
âSince you didnât protest, Iâm guessing you are?â he asks vaguely, causing your brows to furrow in confusion.
âIâm what?â
âSingle and living alone,â his smirk only deepens.
Well shit. Is heâŚflirting with you? While youâre dressed like this? And have only ever made terrible impressions on him before?
âWell, Nico, that depends on why youâre asking,â your mouth is apparently miles ahead of your brain right now, not knowing where this sudden burst of confidence and flirty personality is coming from. âAre you asking because youâre curious about your weird new neighbor, or are you asking because youâre some kind of serial killer thatâs stalking his prey?â
This earns a real laugh from him, not just a short chuckle, and you want to melt at the sound.
âIâm asking because I think my new, âweirdâ neighbor just so happens to be very attractive, but I can tell that sheâs far too shy to ever make a move on her own, so I figured Iâd help her out a little bit,â he leans forward slightly.
His words make your mouth snap shut and causes you to stand up a little taller, not at all prepared for the conversation to take this direction.
All these weeks of you avoiding Nico, dodging him in the hallway and the elevator, flat out ignoring him from the car garage to your doors, not even being able to say one coherent word to him, and itâs all been pointless? Heâs been thinking about you all this time too?
You feel so stupid in this moment. Knowing that he caught you, and knew that you were running from him this whole time makes you squirm, and not in a good way.
Your mind immediately goes back to Miaâs words not only earlier today, but every other time youâve discussed the man standing before you. Her insistence that you were psyching yourself out for nothing and all you had to do was talk to him echoes through your mind.
âOhâŚuhâŚwellâŚin that case, yeah. I live single. Wait, no, I mean, Iâm alone,â you wince, hearing the trainwreck coming out of your mouth. âOkay, Iâm just going to shut up now and nod my head,â you shake your head yes, preventing any more jumbled words.
Nico laughs at you once again, clearly amused and not at all repulsed by your awkward nature.
âWell, I live single too. Just incase you were wondering,â he echoes your previous word stumble, shoulders still shaking from laughter.
âTwinsies,â you blurt out, holding your hand out for a high-five.
Before you can make your brain work like a normal, functioning person, Nico slaps his open palm against yours, biting his lip to keep from laughing again.
âI think Iâm going to stop while Iâm still slightly ahead,â you start, taking a step back into your apartment. âThanks for checking on me, but clearly Iâm lacking any coherent braincells right now, so I think Iâm gonna get back to decorating,â you try to end the conversation, not wanting to give yourself anymore embarrassing moments to keep you up at night.
âWait!â Nico quietly shouts, his face showing it was his turn to be embarrassed, clearly not meaning to have screamed in your face.
You pause the closing of your door, staring at him.
âSorry, I didnât mean to shout. Itâs just, do you want to grab dinner sometime? If youâre not interested thatâs fine, but I wanted to at least put the offer out there before I donât get the chance to speak to you again for another month,â he rushes his words a bit.
Youâre so shocked you just stand there and stare at him for a solid minute, the braincells you lacked mere minutes ago now bouncing around in your head like a pinball machine.
Nico stands there expectantly, waiting on either an acceptance or rejection.
âAre you sure?â is what you manage to come up with.
âYes, Iâm sure,â Nico huffs out a laugh through his nostrils. âIâll even do all the talking if you want.â
You knew you were already going to accept, but his offer made you feel slightly warmer inside. Obviously, heâs been victim to your inability to coherently speak during moments like these, but not pressuring you to carry a majority of the conversation and still wanting to spend the time with you despite your nervous habit sealed the deal even further.
Not trusting yourself to not botch your words once again, you nod your head yes, unable to hide the smile that makes its way onto your face.
Nico returns your smile, a triumphant look in his eyes letting you know he was genuinely worried youâd say no.
âAlright. Good. Awesome. Great.â Is all he says, taking a small step back towards his door.
âWell now you sound like me,â you tease, that small bit of confidence making its way back to you.
âGuess youâre rubbing off on me already,â he shrugs. âSee you around?â he continues to walk backwards until he meets his closed door, jumping slightly when he runs into the solid material.
You giggle at him, nodding your head yes again, finding his sudden nervousness cute.
âSee you around, Nico,â you give a small wave before shutting your door, taking in what just happened.
You unlock the phone still in your hand, clicking on Miaâs contact before bringing it up to your ear.
âListen I know youâre mad at me, and I probably shouldnât have hung up on you, but I knew you wouldnât talk to him if I was on the phone and you needed a push, so really I did you a favor-â
âMia, today was the day,â you interrupt another one of her rambles, grinning while hearing her screams to spill every detail.
#nico hischier#nico fic recs#nico hischier x y/n#nico hischier x you#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier blurb#nico hischier fanfic#nico hischier imagine#nico hischier one shot#new jersey devils#hockey#nhl#hockey fic#devils hockey#hockey imagine#nhl blurb#nhl oneshot#nhl imagine#nhl fanfic#nhl fic#nhl fanfiction#nhl players#nhl hockey#nhl x reader#nh13
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Ok but adoptive Fae King Dad rotating in my mind like a rotisserie chicken.
(800 words)
At first he thought you were a perfect chance to teach some humans a lesson. Letting a child walk alone in woods where Fae were known to live? Someone was going to learn sooner or later.
He stood dramatically waiting for your attention, ready to launch into a full lecture about how because of your neglectful parents he was going to turn you into some yet undecided woodland creature.
But you surprise him, youâre smart enough to know the potential trouble youâre in but also openly curious about him.
Heâs always been a bit vain so when you start asking questions about him, his clothes and his magic, he canât help himself from giving all the answers you wish.
Before heâs realized it, itâs been an afternoon and youâre politely requesting his help in bringing you home.
All plans of turning you into a bird or a squirrel are forgotten as he walks you to the forestâs edge warning you of the dangers of his domain.
He watches you make your way back to the hovel you call a home and he is already deciding in which wing of his palace youâll be staying in.
Youâre not the first child heâs taken an interest in, you have a few siblings at home youâve yet to meet. None of which are surprised when their father comes home in a whirlwind already barking orders to his staff about getting rooms ready, clothes made and a ball to formally introduce you to his court as his youngest child.
Heâs surprised when you willingly come back to his forest, sure that your parents would forbid it after youâd told them about Him, already four steps deep into a plan on how he was going to lure you back. But now he sees a much simpler path forward.
You started to come to the forest nearly daily and you talk and explore with him for hours at a time. It became a comfortable and solid routine, and you trusted if you came he would be there.
He immediately can tell how starved for attention you are, happily rambling about whatever you wished as you and Him walked together in his forest. The perfect foundation to build his plan on.
One day while you two are relaxing in the forest, you make mention of his more unnatural features, his horns, his wings, his teeth, with a tiny hint of jealousy.
He casually brings up his other children, talking about how they were once human, but now were fully Fae like him. A simple transformation, really. He says pretending not to notice the hunger that grows in your eyes.
He loves to compliment you, about how brave, smart and curious you were. Heâd often go on about how proud your family must be of you. How they mustâve showered you in praise. Of course heâs not surprised when you nod and smile along, the smile not reaching your eyes.
He knows that itâs almost time when you bring up his other children, asking about what they were like. Watching you pretend not to care about the answer made him want to forget all his plans and take you home then. But he did not become King through rushed action.
So he talks about them and heâs unable to contain his joy and love when he does. All of them unique and interesting each he loved more than the world its self. He explained how all of his children chose to be with him. All from less than perfect homes, all who saw the life he offered and took it.
Then you and your parents have a fight, youâre spending too much time alone in the forest and now people are gossiping about your family.
Even at your young age, you know that the fact that they care more about peopleâs gossip than your safety and it escalates to a huge mess. Your parents forbid you from ever going to the forest again and itâs your breaking point.
That night you sneak out running to the forest as quick as possible, and as always he is waiting for you with open arms. He holds you as you cry, everything coming out about how your parents never cared and how you wished to have a parent like him.
Your face is buried in his shirt and so you donât see the smile that slowly grows over his face. He gently calms you down and says how happy heâd be to have a child like you. And if you wanted, you could become as much of a Fae as he. You even get a family as a bonus.
How could you ever say no?
#platonic yandere#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere x gn reader#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere adoptive dad#just been spinning this in my mind microwave
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hey s2 soooo i was thinking about something and i know that you are the one to do this
woozi hasn't had the opportunity to eat you out yet, you've already done a lot but as you never mentioned it he thought you didn't want to or weren't comfortable yet, so one day when you're making out and he's starting to get horny he whispers "sit on my face" and now its up to you
k byeeee
â face sitting
good god. why do you always,,,,, do this. i love ur brain but also why god why me. also sorry this took me so long,,,, we r not gonna talk abt it.
youâve been with jihoon for a few months, and in those few months, youâve learned more about him than you did in the years of friendship. you know that he likes to eat, and he eats well, given the pure amount of muscle on him. you know that, while he says heâs not big on skin-ship, itâs a lie. one look from you, and heâs opening his arms to cuddle.
you know he loves his friends with his entire heart, and is willing to give them as much as he can in terms of support. you know he likes to go for walks late at night when he canât sleep, or when he wants to simply enjoy some time outside with his thoughts.
what youâve learned has been on the complete opposite of the spectrum. you know that jihoon likes to give, but this also extends to the bedroom. heâll spend hours working you up, teasing you and then fucking you with his fingers before finally sinking his cock into you. he has this super human ability to make you cum, and he uses it to his advantage.
youâve learned he likes getting head, but heâd much rather fuck you. youâve learned that heâs a sensual kisser; he lets it linger before giving you anything solid to build off of. he makes you chase his lips, teasing you endlessly when you have the time.
youâve also learned that his frustration with his job manifests itself sexually. heâll perfectly service dom you through multiple orgasms as a way to relieve his stress. sometimes heâll just pull you onto his lap and kiss you stupid until youâre grinding against his thigh, desperate for something more.
you love giving him head though, but he seems to be completely indifferent towards doing the same to you. itâs a little confusing, considering how much he seems to use his tongue in other ways with you. you know heâs skilled with his mouth, that much is evident from the way he kisses and sings.
today is just one of those days where jihoon wasnât able to burn off enough steam at the gym. heâs frustrated over a moved deadline the company gave him, now having to work twice as hard to get things done. you finished work early, and jihoon invited you over to hang out.
you can tell from the lines on his face that youâll be doing more than just âhanging outâ, but itâs not like you mind. jihoon pulls you into his bed, the television in his room on. youâre cushioned in between his thick thighs, wrapped safely in his arms when he starts peppering soft kisses to your neck.
it makes you shiver, hands grabbing at his arms before you decide to rotate to straddle his thighs. jihoon rests his hands on your hips, pulling you close and in for a kiss. you return it eagerly, hands finding the sides of his face.
jihoonâs hands start wandering, pushing their way under your hoodie to graze the skin of your back. his tongue slips its way into your mouth, and you moan softly. this seems to do something to jihoon, and his hand slips down to grope your ass.
you make out for god knows how long, hips moving against each others as you kiss. jihoon seems to just drink in all of the small sounds you make, hands moving around to grab and squeeze whatever he can reach.
it all comes to fruition when you stop being able to kiss him, whining into his mouth as you grind on his thigh. âfuck, sit on my face.â jihoon whispers, pulling away for a second to just watch you take what you need from him. you stop immediately, pulling back further to look at him.
âsorry, what did you say?â you blink a few times at him, unsure if you heard him correctly.
âif you donât want to, thatâs okay. youâve never really given me anything that suggested youâd be into that.â he back tracks immediately, face reddening as he realizes he said that out loud.
âno, repeat yourself. what did you say?â your hand brushes the side of his neck and he shivers, knowing he canât get out of this.
âum, sit on my face?â itâs a question this time. his hesitancy makes you laugh softly as you brush his hair out of his face.
âgod, jihoon,â you sigh softly, already dripping at the idea of him being tongue deep inside of you. âyouâre sure?â you ask, fingers threading in his hair. he hums softly.
âyeah, fuck. wanna eat you out so bad, baby.â he coos, almost condescending as his hands grab at your sweatpants. you let him pull them down, underwear going with them. you shift off his lap to kick them off and jihoon takes the opportunity to slide down the bed so heâs lying down.
with your bottom half now exposed, you straddle his lap again, arousal seeping into his own sweats. heâs painfully hard in his sweats, cock straining against the fabric. he hisses when you sink down before his hands find you ass again.
he pulls you up, and you wiggle your way up the bed until youâre over his chest. âhow do you want me?â you ask, unsure of if he wants you to face him or turn the other way.
âjust like this is fine.â jihoon hums, pulling you closer to his face. he starts to tease your folds with two fingers, gathering your arousal with his fingers before he pushes them inside. youâre already wet enough for them to just slide in.
you moan at the intrusion, his other hand firm on your hips to keep you from moving. jihoon fucks them in and out of you slowly, watching the way you suck his digits in. he pulls them out after a few seconds, using both hands to pull you down onto his face.
jihoon sticks his tongue out, licking a long stripe over your folds. you react immediately at the warmth and wetness of his tongue, shivering as you let out a low moan. jihoon does it again, tongue gathering your arousal to pull it into his mouth. he moans softly, already completely in love with the way you taste.
jihoonâs nose brushes against your clit, and you jerk harshly, hands finding their spot in his hair. you smooth it out, moving it out of the way. he licks another stripe up your fold, this time stiffening his tongue to go deeper. his lips latch around your clit, suctioning to it and flicking his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves.
jihoon focuses his attention on your clit, alternating different kinds of suction and patterns with his tongue to figure out what works. he brings his hand back up to your ass, kneading the skin softly before he pushes two fingers back inside of you.
itâs too much, all at once. the small noises he makes as he eats you out, the lewd, wet noises coming from his mouth, and his fingers pressing into your spot send you over the edge. you tighten your grip in his hair, head leaning against the headboard as you gasp out a warning.
jihoon keeps his pace steady on your clit as you cum, before he pulls his fingers out and laps at your release. it drips down his chin, but he canât stop, even after you start to squirm in overstimulation.
you lift your hips up off his face before shifting to lay down beside him. jihoon pulls you into a kiss, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. you whine into his mouth, hands grabbing at his cock through the fabric of his sweats.
jihoon pulls away, âgive yourself a minute to breathe, love.â he coos. you nod, pushing your head against his chest. he strokes your hair softly, massaging your scalp. your hands still push their way under his sweats and into his boxers.
jihoon hisses softly. âyouâre insatiable.â he moans, a breathy laugh falling from his lips.
âyou started it.â you murmur, craning your head up to kiss his neck. maybe he did. either way, itâs gonna be a long night. especially with what youâve just learned about your boyfriend.
#seventeen x reader#seventeen x y/n#seventeen x you#lee jihoon x reader#lee jihoon x you#lee jihoon smut#woozi x reader#woozi smut#woozi x you#svt woozi x reader#seventeen woozi x reader#woozi x y/n#seventeen jihoon x reader#jihoon x y/n#jihoon x you#jihoon x reader#jihoon smut#lee jihoon imagines#jihoon scenarios#woozi imagines#woozi scenarios#woozi
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Oh, to be Alone with You â
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NSFW â 18+ â Minors DNI
Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 2.6k Descriptors: I try my best to write inclusively. Reader uses she/her pronouns and is mentioned in her physicality but not described in detail. If anything escaped me, please let me know! Sorry I couldn't make this more gender neutral, but since this fic is a gift to @naariel I thought I'd use her pronouns. Warnings: dirty daydreams, yearning, lusting after someone, male masturbation, dirty talk, fantasy of PiV sex within the daydream, bath sex, this is written from Halsin's POV
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Inspired by this insane artwork by @naariel â
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Author's note: I've been pondering, rotating and marinating this artwork in my mind for WEEKS. It haunts me in the best possible way and I am so happy Naariel gave me permission to reference her art! If you are not already following her, you definitely should - her skill and talent are infinite.
Masterlist â If you prefer AO3
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Oh, to be Alone with You
Halsin sighs when he finally sits down, long limbs sprawling on the too-small chair that can barely contain him.
Chairs. What superfluous oddities, where a big tree stump might have sufficed. If one has to make them at all, why not at least make them comfortable? Why not sit in the meadows, why not find a place to lay where the sun has warmed a rock that has been washed and polished by the rain? But no, the rules of the city demand he be contained within four walls instead of roaming free, they demand he bathe in a wooden tub instead of out in the wilds, they demand he wear clothes and be polite to people even as they trample the Oak Fatherâs creations beneath their boots without even stopping to look and enjoy natureâs gifts.
Halsin shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose to stave off the oncoming headache. It has been a long day and he is so tired. A long week. A long few weeks, if he is being honest with himself. In all these centuries, times have been- well- rough, to say the least. But whatever haunts the Sword Coast now⌠itâs different. Bigger than the invasions of Goblins across the land, bigger than the Shadow druids, bigger even than the Shadow Curse that has occupied Halsinâs every waking hour for nigh on one hundred years.
At least, Thaniel and Oliver have been reunited, some life returning to the lands as it always should have been. A victory, chased for so long, tasting sweet only for a moment before the stale urgency of the matter at hand had seeped back into Halsinâs mind: Mindflayers infecting innocents, magic-infused tadpoles, an Elder Brain⌠There are too many battles to be fought, and not one of them to be won.
Halsin presses his lips together and tries to banish the dark thoughts from his mind. There are some good things that have come out of this: They have not lost a fight yet, and his newfound companions are⌠stimulating, to say the least. Fighting alongside them has been a joy and a privilege - watching their blades sear, their magic erupt, their arrows pierce their targets as the bear Halsin rips through flesh and bone. The fighting is necessary, and his companions are more skilled than he could have ever wished for. This day may have been hard, but it was successful nonetheless, and now he is here, freshly bathed and ready to find some rest for the night. If only it could be under the stars, far outside the city walls, he would almost call himself happy. Instead, he must bed down alone, encased by too many walls and a too-small bed frame.
Halsin misses the smell of grass that has not been trampled by hundreds of boot-clad feet, he misses the feeling of bark against his fur, he misses his wildshape and trodding through calm forests instead of bloodied battlefields. He misses air that is crisp and clean and doesn't smell of artificially molten metals. He misses the Grove, he misses Thaniel and he misses the woods. The city has been forsaken by Silvanus, and even if this place is a small oasis of nature, it is not the same as being out among the Oak Fatherâs creations.
He cracks his neck, his hair tickling his collarbones. Halsin curses quietly to himself, pushing a curl behind his ear. He needs to cut his hair - itâs getting too long. And he needs to braid it again, his plaits are all out of sorts. It might be a hassle to do it without a mirror- but maybe he could ask-
No.
Shaking his head as if to will the thought away, he slumps into the discomfort of the chair a little more.
No, he shouldn't ask her anything. Nothing that would involve her hands on him, at least. Certainly not her fingers buried in his hair, tugging softly, her voice gently commanding that he tilt his head a different way. He canât ask for that. It would only lead to him asking for more:
More of her hands on him, more of her skin against his, more than innocent touches and whispered goodnights across the campfire. He would ask for everything: To bury himself inside her until the world fades away, to devour her until she is slick with sweat from the pleasure he brings her. To be the keeper of her heart, just as he yearns for her to be the keeper of his.
Halsin can feel the familiar tightness in his back as the golden shimmer of his wildshape travels up to his shoulder blades. One thought of her, and already the bear stirs.
He remembers everything that happened today, even as he tries so hard to think of something else:
He remembers the way she smells, of sweet berries, blood and leather. He remembers her looking up at him, as her fingers clutch her weapon tightly. He remembers the fire in her eyes after the slaughter, the glow in her cheeks when she turned around to look at him and found only the bear. He remembers how she smiled at him, even after all that violence, a smile like the sinking sun, bloodied and red, but more beautiful than he could ever have dreamed up.
And as the day progressed: Her arm bumping into his, her head tilting up when she asked him a question and wanted to read his expression. How her hands slipped around him to reach for some food at the campfire earlier when they rested. Her sweet breath on his face and a mumbled excuse when she walked into him, still drowsy with sleep. And all Halsin wanted to do was pull her into his lap and bury his nose in the crook of her neck and forget about the world, forget about everyone watching, and have her, right then, in that moment. Have her all to himself, make her his very own. To feel her around him, to show her the depth of his affection, the desperation of his desire, the magnitude of his commitment.
All he wanted in that moment - all he still wants - is to touch her, to feel her in ways that he cannot ask for because he is scared she will not want the same thing he does. Halsin wants to lick the sweat off her skin, he wants to be buried between her thighs whenever they can steal away, even for a few minutes, he wants her taste on his tongue when he fights, and to wrap himself around her when they sleep.
The force of his own thoughts makes Halsin shudder, glowing desire stirring deep in his belly.
Her tongue in his mouth, his hands on her skin: How soft she would be against him. How wonderful to hear her voice break when she cries out for him, how she would taste if he could lick her off his fingers, the honey of her thighs, the salt of her sweat. He would give anything to know the expression on her face when she is lost to mindless bliss- he would give everything to know that he is the cause of it.
A low moan escapes his throat then, and Halsin presses his lips together when his mind returns from memory and sweet imagination to this house in the midst of a bustling city. This is not nature, where he can do what pleases him when it pleases him. No, the city - âcivilisationâ as they call it - comes with rules, expectations, limitations.
He is in someone elseâs home, exhausted from the day, the blood barely washed off his skin. And yet, all he can think about is⌠her. All he can feel is the constriction of his clothing, the confinement of leather where he longs to be touched. He wants to shed like the bear sheds his fur after the winter, he wants to feel free again.
Halsin hums, breathing deeply, willing away the golden sparks of his wildshape that dance along his fingertips. He listens intently, fingers dancing across his thighs, drumming an impatient rhythm.
Nothing in the house stirs. Maybe they are all gone still, running their errands, finding bath houses, visiting old friends and merchants they used to know before they return here for a long nightâs rest. Maybe Halsin can have a small pocket of time to himself. Time to dream himself away, to give in to the desire he has harboured for so long.
Maybe⌠he could use this opportunity to release some of that tension that has settled deep in his belly. Refocus his attention. Maybe itâll be for the best- not to think of her constantly anymore, not of her smell, or the colour of her eyes, of the way her fingers linger on his for a moment too long whenever they touch, or how much he wished they could have bathed together when he sank into the tub earlier that night.
The city has many downsides, but baths are one of the few things to enjoy. Hot springs are wonderful, but few and far between. Nature provides: The bear does not mind the coldness of a stream in the woods, or the iciness of a mountain lake. But there is nothing like a steaming bath to help prevent the sore ache that settles in his bones after a fight.
If only it was acceptable to ask her if she would join him. If only it had been her hands washing dirt and grime and blood from his skin, brushing his hair, kneading tired muscles, her hands much smaller than his, but strong and determined. Loving.
Halsin lets his head fall back, spine cracking as he settles in the small, uncomfortable chair, spreading his legs to cup his hardening cock. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine itâŚ
She glistens in the dim light, thin streams of water trickling down her skin when she emerges from the bath, her lashes stuck together as she beams at him.
âMhh, we should have done this ages ago!â
âI could not agree more, my heart.â Halsin loves seeing her like this. She looks happy, like she has not a care in the world.
She crawls up into his lap, settling on him, her thighs bracketing his. Her hands run across his chest, lathering him in soap that smells of lavender and thyme. Halsinâs heart is beating in his throat when she leans in to kiss his collarbone, her lips soft, her hair smelling of smoke and flowers as it always does.
Desire surges inside him, crackling like lightning in his veins, and he sends the bear away, far away. This is a moment he wants for himself: Skin against skin, tongues exploring, hands intertwined. This is no place for fangs and claws, not tonight. Halsin unlaces his trousers with steady fingers, though even those few seconds seem unbearable to him. When his hand finally wraps around his cock, he breathes a sigh of relief, only to feel dissatisfied moments after. He wants her hands, her eyes on him, her voice dripping with lust. For now, his imagination will have to do.
He dreams himself back to the bath, thinking of all he could have had, if he had only had the courage to ask.
Her skin is burning hot against his, her fingers leave a flaming trail wherever she touches him.
âIs this alright, my love?â Her voice is full of concern and affection, as it always is when she asks about his comfort and well-being.
âMore than alright.â Halsinâs breaths grow shaky when she moves her hips, shallowly grinding down against him. âGods, I want to-â
âMhhm?â There is a curious twinkle in her eye. âWhat is it you want? Tell me. Iâm sure I could make your dreams come true.â
Halsin shifts when the wooden backing of the chair digs into his back as he bucks his hips, fucking into his hand that is wrapped around his cock - a poor substitution for what - for who - he really wants.
A growl rings out in the empty room when he closes his eyes and imagines her again.
Her thighs look so lovely, spread wide so he can fit between them. She smells of the bath salts and of herself, and her voice talks to him through the thick fog of his desire.
âI know what you want, donât I, bear? Iâll take such good care of you if you let me. Iâll make sure you donât even have to ask for it. Iâll let you taste me, whenever you want- wherever you want. Iâll help you focus- you can focus on me, canât you? There you goâŚâ
Halsin is panting, his hand moving faster.
She feels good, so good when she sinks down on him, wet with arousal and so willing to take him.
âYou, little flower, are the jewel of natureâs creation,â he mumbles. âYou are all I could ever want and more. I want to taste you on my tongue, always- for there to never be a day where I wonât know the way you drip for me- for you to never go a day without being satisfied, without feeling loved and cared for. Your happiness is all I want- your ecstasy all I desire. Let me take care of you.â
She moans, her head falling back as she starts to roll her hips, taking him deeper and deeper with each stroke.
âIâll take care of you as you do of me,â she whispers. âIâll make sure to provide for you all you could ever need or want. You give and give, let me give you everything I am in return. Be selfish, bear. Take what you want, swallow me whole, devour me without worrying whether itâs too much. I want you to. Mark me- make me yours. Tell the whole world I belong to you, whichever way you desire.â
Her movements are desperate now, her words only sighs and moans, breathless as she buries her head against his shoulder. Halsin inhales the scent of her hair, sinks into her words as the fog of lust that has settled on his brain grows thicker and heavier, until there is not a thought left on his mind but her.
âHalsin-â Gods, his name sounds so sweet off her tongue. âHalsin, I want you to fill me. Please- please, I want to feel full with you, today and every day youâll fucking let me. I want to fight knowing you are still dripping down my thighs, I want to kiss you under the stars and know Iâll never be without you again.â
The curses that are falling from his lips are ungodly, but Halsin does not care. He is desperate now, mouth open as he calls her name and thinks of the words he wishes he could hear her say.
âCome for me, bear. Come inside me, lay claim to me as only you ever could- f-fuck- make me yours- please- Halsin, Iâm yours, Iâm yours and yours and yours, as long as youâll have me- forever if you want to-â
With a cry of her name on his lips, Halsin gives in to pleasure and lets himself be overtaken by a wave of bliss. His thighs tremble as he spills over his hand, sticky warmth dripping from his fingers. He does not open his eyes. Not yet. He wants to stay in the fantasy just a moment longer.
âHalsin, I-â
His eyes open, blood rushing to his cheeks as he returns to the real world and finds her standing in the doorway.
I'm going fucking feral. Running into the woods hoping to find him there, who's with me -
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#bg3#halsin#halsin x reader#in some capacity i suppose#baldur's gate#baldurs gate 3#halsin bg3#nsft#halsin x f!reader#gala writes
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hiiii please could i request plus size shy reader being asked out on a date and getting anxious itâs a joke (itâs not). i would LOVE this with steve or james but i love everyone you write for so i donât mind if youâd rather choose another character! have a lovely day/night! đŤśđť
Thanks for requesting my love!
cw: implied insecurity around size
Steve Harrington x shy!plus size!reader ⥠1.3k words
You can feel sweat on the insides of your thighs. Every step you take chafes. Between the heat and your nerves you think you probably look about as shiny as a glazed donut, and you worry that if you lift a hand in front of your face youâll find it shaking.Â
You donât actually know what youâre doing here.Â
When Steve asked you to meet him at the fair, your yes was automatic. He was all brown eyes and gentle features, the apple of his throat bobbing at the tail end of the question, and you hadnât known any quicker way to get away from all that than simply agreeing and ducking into the kitchen to grab an imaginary order. Whether you actually wanted to go out with him was irrelevant, though of course you did. You still do, you think.Â
But later, youâd remembered who he was. Not just Steve, who comes into your work and downs chocolate milkshakes like heâs in some sort of competition while tossing you sugary smiles that make it impossible for you to remember anyoneâs orders, but Steve Harringon. King of the gum-popping populars when youâd all been in high school, who publicly degraded Nancy Wheeler just for breaking up with him and who has since been rumored to date a rotation of Hawkinâs most model-esque girls. He would know how to flirt with a girl like you. Might do it just for a laugh. Might even ask you on a phony date simply to humiliate you when you thought it was real.Â
And now youâre here, looking sweat-glazed and lost in the middle of the crowd, feeling like a complete fucking loser. Well done, King Steve.Â
âHey!âÂ
Youâre not sure if itâs worse to stay, and slowly reconcile with the fact that youâve been duped, or leave and have to face him at work the next time he comes in. Quitting your job is starting to sound like a tempting option.Â
âHey!âÂ
You nearly jump out of your skin when a sure hand lands on your shoulder, and a second later Steve is rounding you with that half-quirked smile of his. His face is cast pink by the neon light of the sign youâre standing in front of.Â
âSorry,â he says, âI was gonna wait at the front, but the line for tickets was getting long so I figured Iâd better get in there and grab ours.â He holds up a hand, fanning the two tickets out.Â
âOh.â The word comes out of you on a breath. Steve leans in to hear you better, not a flicker of pique in his expression for your soft voice in this loud atmosphere. âThatâs smart.âÂ
His eyes crinkle as though youâve said something funny, his hand dropping from your shoulder as he gives a one armed shrug. Youâd forgotten it was there and yet you miss it instantly. âWell, thanks. Some people say I can be that, every now and then.âÂ
You feel your eyes go wide. âOh, no, sorry, of course youâre smart,â you say in a rush. âI didnât mean to sound surprised, I was justâŚâÂ
âI get it.â The pink light softens the teasing in Steveâs look into something even sweeter. You feel your face warm. âDo you wanna grab a funnel cake or something?âÂ
âWhyâŚâ Youâre suddenly conscious again of your sweaty thighs, the way your sundress cuts into your middle and leaves the skin of your wide shoulders on display. âWhy would I want that?âÂ
Steve looks confused, his smile lingering but faint. âI dunno, do you? Iâm starving, I havenât eaten since lunch. We could have whatever, though, if youâve got something against funnel cake.âÂ
You blink, the flame of apprehension that had flared in your chest sputtering back down to an ember. âNo, sorry,â you say, befuddled once again. What does he want with you? When and where will the other shoe drop? âI like funnel cake.âÂ
Steve pays for the both of you and youâre too dazed to stop him, still reeling from the hand he placed on your back to guide you through the crowd and seems in no hurry to remove. It rests just above the waistline of your dress, gentle but definitively there, radiating warmth through the fabric. When he does remove it, itâs to sit down beside you at the picnic table so you can eat, one form of contact replaced by another as his jeans press into your bare leg and you try not to spiral out.Â
âThese things are a disaster for me,â he says, breaking off another piece of funnel cake with his fingers. His chin and the front of his shirt are already covered in a light dusting of powdered sugar, which is somehow more endearing than offputting. Youâre currently suppressing the mortifying urge to wipe it off and lick your finger. âI love fried food, and I go even crazier for sugar, so the combination is justâGod.â He shakes his head, looking blissed out in the same way you recognize from when heâs half done with a milkshake. âIf you donât want to see me again after this, Iâm gonna have a really hard time staying away from your work. Iâll be screwed.âÂ
You stare at him. Why would he be affected by how you feel about tonight? If anything, the need to avoid Steve Harrington should drive you out of town. Guys like him can do whatever they want. If he told everyone that heâd never even spoken to you and you were making this date nonsense up for attention, that would probably be more readily believed than what seems to be happening here.Â
âJesus Christ.â Steve has discovered the powdered sugar spillage down his front. He dusts off his shirt and does exactly what youâve been wanting to, using his fingers to wipe his face and then sucking the sugar off them one by one. He looks almost sheepish when he meets your eyes, in a boyish, humorous way. âSorry, Robin always says I eat like a fucking animal.â
âYouâre good,â you assure him. âItâs kind of impossible to avoid with powdered sugar, right?â You actually had managed to avoid it, by leaning over the little paper tray as you ate, but thatâs beside the point. âYou think you might want to go out again?âÂ
Itâs blunt, not like you, and if youâd taken more than two milliseconds to think it through you know you wouldnât have asked. Your cheeks burn.Â
Steveâs brows furrow with his thumb still in his mouth, and he tilts his head like a puppy. âThatâs kind of the point of dates, right?â he asks, sounding halfway between confusion and amusement. âI mean, ideally, you usually want to go out more than once.âÂ
âRight.â Now youâve managed to make yourself sound like an idiot. On top of being several sizes bigger and decibels quieter than most of the other girls Steve goes out with, now youâre an airhead as well. âThat makes sense, sorry.âÂ
âYou donât need to keep saying youâre sorry.â Steve smiles lopsided and sweet, and you canât find even a trace of the infamous King Steve in it. Maybe in the round apple of his cheek, or the easy way he leans on the table, but not in the warmth of the look heâs giving you. The ones heâs been giving you, unreciprocated and largely mistrusted, for weeks now. âLook, we donât have to worry about that stuff tonight. You can figure out if you think Iâm worth another shot after weâre done here, and if you decide to give me a lifetime ban from your work, Iâll get it. Letâs just have fun for now, right?âÂ
You bite the inside of your lip, considering the soft brown of his eyes, the tiny bit of powdered sugar heâs missed just by the corner of his lips. Letâs just have fun.
âOkay,â you say. Something new and light flickers in your chest at his answering grin. âWhere do you wanna start?â
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#shy!reader#plus size!reader#steve harrington x shy!reader#steve harrington x plus size!reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x self insert#steve harrington fandom#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington scenario#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington oneshot#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things fandom#stranger things x reader
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