#security reader x inmate dust

[liliallowed]

compilation of dust flirting

[tonycries]

My Oh My - R.S.

Synopsis. Trick or treat! The mean ínmate in Room 6/9 doesn’t want halloween candy - he wants something else much, much sweeter.

Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, ínmate! Sukuna, slight foódplay, creampíes, bràt-taming, use of “góod girl”, MEAN softíe Sukuna, PÚSSYDRUNK Sukuna, oraI (fem receiving), fíngering, Sukuna’s piercings and tattoos, dry-húmping, squírting, spítting, bódy worshíp, exhíbitionism, slight Gojo x Reader, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 6.7k (sigh)

A/N. Yes, the seventh day of k!nktober had to be Sukuna even tho I’m a Gojo-gagger…

“Nanami chill.”

It’s twelve in the dead of Halloween, and Nanami Kento does, in fact, not chill - not when he’s five hours deep into overtime at the most high security prison in all of Japan, running on only three cups of caffeine and the promise of a day off sometime in the next year. 

“You know I can’t do that.” he rubs his throbbing temples, heaving out a sigh as he often does. Taking one long look around the glaringly empty surveillance office, “Especially not today of all days.”

You’re humming in flippant agreement, but that only makes the furrow in your partner’s brows deepen even more. “I know I know. But don’t you think the inmates deserve something a lil’ special today? I mean, he-” Pointing at the grainy CCTV footage on your computer screen - showing one, Ryomen Sukuna, in his padded cell. Watching. Waiting. “-didn’t get a single visitor all year.”

And before Nanami can even think to open his mouth, you’re already dusting down your uniform. Grabbing the bowl of candy propped between you two that you’d swiped from the break room. 

“Wait-”

“After all, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Now, you’ve always been told that you’re a little softer than most when it comes to your inmates - which perhaps wasn’t the best quality to have when your section was filled to the brim with the most infamous of yakuza and serial criminals. But they respected you. Hell, Nanami loved to roll his eyes at this one but - you think they almost liked you.

Especially Ryomen Sukuna.

You shiver at the long, long list of crimes of his that you had to memorize in your early days - distinctly remembering the way your laptop had crashed with just how far you had to scroll. 

Honestly, you weren’t surprised that the most wanted crime boss across the globe wouldn’t get anything other than public threats and a few snarling officers that laugh smugly in his face. Though, you have had to sift out a few perfumed fan mail from time to time. 

And even before you’d started this job, you knew of him - who didn’t? 

The King of Curses, they called him. And what a king he was.

Some say he was just a crook. Others say he was a beast that seemed like he had four arms and twice the power of any normal human being. 

Right before his arrest, the Curses owned half of Japan’s revenue - he was untouchable. With his deceivingly innocent signature pink hair, those circling tattoos all across his body, and the dark, dark bloodthirst to get whatever he wanted. Whenever. And fast. 

It’d made international news when he was finally caught - only after a long, agonizing syndicate war between himself and the Six Eyes. It was your first day working here, and you were there to spy it firsthand when he was brought in. Shackles clanking along the metallic prison floor, towering well above the eight officers by his side, being hauled into that specialized cell like some animal. 

And, yet, through it all Sukuna was smiling - smiling like he knew something that everyone in this building didn’t. 

It still burns into your memory the way he’d stopped right in his tracks for the first time on his way up here, stalling for just a second. Two. Before looking right into your widened eyes, devilish grin only growing at your trembling figure.

Ryomen Sukuna had his eyes on you from the moment those handcuffs locked him in here. 

And he still did.

“Hey there, Kuna-” you’re humming after the long, tedious task of unlocking all sixteen padlocks on his heavy metal door. It clamors to a shut behind you with a deafening clang! Locked from the inside. With him. Alone. “How are we doing today?”

Sukuna was sat on the padded floor of his cell, knees brought up to his broad chest. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have said he almost looked like a scolded child - had it not been for the custom-made metal cuffs that restrained him up to his very forearms. A matching leather muzzle drawn tight to cover half of his pretty face. 

He was the very epitome of all you should stay away from in this prison. 

And, yet, you find yourself walking towards him, carefully trying not to step on the hefty chains of his shackled ankles. 

It surrounds you like an iron serpent, clinking lightly when he’s raising his half-lidded eyes to look up at you. “Heh- will it reduce my sentence if I say s’better now that you’re here, brat?” 

Sukuna’s deep baritone was husky with disuse, hitching sharply at the end of his sweet little nickname for you. From what little you could make out behind the muzzle, you catch the slow, sultry curl of his plump lips. “Or should I say-” His gaze trickles down to your glinting golden badge, narrowing. “-officer.”

You’re rolling your eyes, “You and I both know we’re past all that, Sukuna.”

“Not past that enough, dontcha think?” he’s cracking his neck with a slight tilt side by side, as if he hadn’t even realized how long he’d been sitting here until you’d wandered your way inside. Cocking his head up slightly at the small glass bowl still clutched in your hands, “Somethin’ sweet from someone sweet f’me?”

“Oh-” you’re sputtering out. He knew exactly what buttons to push to tease and toy with you without even lifting a finger. “-yes, trick or treat! Since it’s Halloween I thought I might as well share the spirit.”

He’s bellowing out a husky laugh that rumbles from deep within his chest, and you have to tear your eyes away from the slight, sinful sliver of tan skin that peeks out at the jostle of his thin cotton t-shirt. 

You hated to admit it - but you almost understood exactly why Sukuna got so many fan letters that you had to throw out. A secret you’d whispered to Nanami over break and then never again after he fully ignored you for a week afterwards. 

Sukuna takes his languid time stretching out his limbs, and you get the distinctly hot feeling that he’s doing this on purpose. One eye cracked to watch your every jolt when the hem of his t-shirt raises just a bit too high, when his long, long legs nudging lightly against your feet. 

You huff, “Well, would ya like some or not? Because I can just give all of it to Mahito in the next cell-”

“Ah, you’re so damn hot when you’re mad.” he grins, and now you know he’s having fun with you. “Fuckin’ demanding, too.” 

He’s bringing up his two firmly restrained arms up to your line of vision. “And, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, silly girl, but m’a little ah- preoccupied, here.”

Oh, right. 

Shit. 

It would’ve been so easy to just move your fingers over to the keys in your backpocket and unlock his handcuffs for the slightest second. So easy to shut his cocky mouth up by doing the very things he knows he won’t goad you into doing. 

But you sneak a glimpse up at the camera positioned at the very corner of the room - trained on the hunched over-figures of the two of you - as if to say, “Hey, see, Nanami?” 

“Nice try.” And you swear you hear the great Ryomen Sukuna gasp - gasp - a sharp, tiny inhale when you reach out towards the very back of his muzzle. Your fingers scratching up lightly against his silken tresses as you feel for the clasp, letting it fall to the ground in a sad pile. Soft - it’s the first thing on your mind, and the next was how unfairly attractive Sukuna looked without his muzzle. “But you’re not going anywhere.”

He just beams up at you, showing off his slightly sharpened canines. Facial tattoos almost as sinful as the darkened glint in his eyes, “Heh- as if I’d wanna go absolutely anywhere else right now.”

Before you can snap back - or more likely, make a fool out of yourself to his amusement - he cranes his neck desperately upwards. “So? Jus’ gonna stand there givin’ me a pretty view or what?”

Too soon, you’re realizing what he wants.

And too readily, you’re crouching down till you’re eye-level with his greedy gaze. Hastily unwrapping one of the candies, “Open wide.”

Sukuna only grins. “Get closer would ya? M’not a fuckin’ giraffe now, am I?”

Fuck. 

Wordlessly, you inch closer.

“Closer. These chains aren’t as long as they look y’know.”

And closer. 

“Just a bit more- I don’t bite. Promise.”

And- 

“Good girl.”

Before you know it - Sukuna has you exactly where he wants you. Losing your fragile balance to topple over into his awaiting lap, manspread, cushioning your fall. His biceps flex against his restraints, as if some second nature of his wanted to wrap those tattooed arms around your waist.

“I-” you’re gasping, palms gliding over his feeble uniform. Feeling every curve and divot along his hard front- fuck, he felt like a wall of bricks. So toned underneath that fabric, your chin rests softly on the valley between his plush pecs. “I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

“S’perfect though, isn’t it?” he’s cutting you off, leaning in so close now that you could feel your cheeks heat with each of his feverish puffs of air. The very tip of his nose kissing yours. “Now you can reach me- honestly, why complain when life gives ya lemons, woman.”

Your breath hitches, “I…”

“So? Gonna gimme some of that sweetness?”

You’re still unsure of what’s happening. And all you can do is to wordlessly bring the sweet treat up to his lips, almost flinching when the warm softness of his lips brush up against your fingertips. 

And shit, you know what it must look like on the outside, you know that Nanami’s probably halfway through jumping out of his seat at the surveillance office already. 

But you really can’t bring yourself to think about that right now - not when Sukuna’s wrapping his rosy lips around your fingers. Eyes drooping shut slowly. Lazily. Lingering longer than necessary when his tongue swipes at the candy. 

It all but melts in your hand, and as soon as you’re about to pull back-

“Hold right there f’me now.”

You’re sure if Sukuna’s hands were freed then he’d have claimed a strong grip on your wrist already, because he was just nuzzling his face into your touch. Sighing out, “Can’t have my officer all dirty now, can I?”

His long, pink tongue comes up to just drag along your digits, making you keen at the slight scratch of his soft taste buds. One by one. Each of your fingers. Sucking, groaning. 

Smiling at you slyly, he’s dragging his tongue in between your index and your middle finger, slurping up all the sweetened candy from before. “What? Cat got yer tongue?”

“Y-you-”

“Y-y-y-you-” he mocks, baritone voice a few octaves dramatically higher than usual. Through his smirk, Sukuna bites down on the very tip of your index, making you wince at the sharp sting of his canines. “If ya got somethin’ to say then spit it out like the big girl you are.”

He’s so leeringly smug, watching back as you struggle to meet his intense gaze as if it was his favorite show. Oh, how he wants to tease you about that little good girl routine you put whenever you stop by his cell - always smiling, always in that snug uniform that made you look so irresistible, always talking to him so sweetly as if he wasn’t the king of curses himself.

Never in his life would he admit it, but it was so…cute.

And Sukuna half-expects you to jump back this very second, to throw another one of your pouts his way and scamper off back to the safety of your office. He expects you to-

“Kiss me.”

Oh. 

Fuck.

That was not what Sukuna expected - never in the hundreds of years he was sentenced to rot in this prison.

But, well, looking down at the way you were splayed out so prettily on his lap - your chin jutting forwards, hands steadied on his pecs, glossed-up lips all pursed for him - how could he ever say no?

In a split-second, he’s kissing you. 

And you’re kissing him back and fuck- is it intoxicating.

Sukuna meshes his lips against yours so slowly, savoring. Angling his head just enough to suckle on your honeyed lips, you’re feeling his hips gently buck upwards, drinking up your light groans. 

You mewl when he slides his soft tongue between your lips. And that’s when you learn that Sukuna has a tongue piercing, cold and metallic against your lips. He tastes so sweet - exactly like the artificial strawberry from the sweet earlier and-

“Hah-” you’re gasping at the soft clink! of something sweet, something hard being placed all prettily right in the middle of your tongue - the candy. Brows raising, “Isn’t that-”

“So what if it is?” he’s grunting, not letting you part too far away before sitting up even straight to surge his lips against yours. Mellow. Addicted. Sukuna just loved how sweet you were on him - even more so than that godforsaken candy. He’s craning upwards to nip lightly at your bottom lip, “Got a problem?”

You were so pliant on top of him, swiveling your hips down lazily at his question instead of answering. Over and over. And Sukuna almost finds it in himself to taunt you until you answer- before one manicured hand of yours grips his face, letting his sharp jaw slack open. 

Only giving the candy a few drippingly wet swirls inside your mouth before spitting - a thick wad of candied spit right onto Ryomen Sukuna’s tongue. Glistening against his piercing.

And he takes it. 

Surprisingly, hypnotically takes it. 

He groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he mouths in that tiny piece of strawberry candy back. You hear the crunch! of it underneath his teeth, kissing you even deeper to show off how he’d swallowed every tiny shard.  

Curling his legs around your form, it’s all it takes for his gaze to drop half-lidded, chest panting - heaving - he smiles a dangerous curve of his lips against yours. 

Sharp teeth glinting against your own, he chuckles. “I think we’re gonna have a lot of fun, dontcha think, brat?”

You can only take it when he rolls his yearning hips up into yours. You feel so dizzy at the massive outline of his half-hardened cock underneath you - solid, thorough inches girthing upwards against your heated cunt. 

“But first-” His teeth bite down on your lower lip, and he pulls. “-think m’gonna hafta hah- teach ya to be a good girl f’me.”

Clang!

All of a sudden, the heavy ripping of metal rings across your dazed head - and Sukuna’s just tearing apart his durable metallic handcuffs as if they were made of nothing but paper.

“What-” you gasp rubs over where the tough restraints had rubbed his skin redly raw, oh he just basks in all your sputtering disbelief. “You could remove it- but- but that was special grade?”

“Ya really thought a pile of trash like that would keep me put? Of course, I could fuckin’ get out, don’t be silly, woman.” He quirks a slitted brow with genuine confusion - almost as if he was offended at the very thought. And before you know it, Sukuna’s throwing away the useless pieces of junk towards a nestled corner of the cell - hitting exactly on the bullseye of that damn CCTV he hated so much. Both of you watch when it topples brokenly to the ground. He hums, low and sultry, “I just hadn’t found a good ‘nough reason until now.”

Almost immediately, his hands are on you. Everywhere. Anywhere.

Coaxing such pretty whines out of you when Sukuna ravages along every inch of your body, large calloused palms kneading down your tits, your waist, grabbing a handful of your ass. 

“Ohh- this s’the life.” he groans, all ten of his thick digits squeezing and teasing you. He’s leaning down to nip lightly at your ear lobe, “Almost makes me forget what a naughty girl ya actually are.”

“I’m not-” you answer immediately, but it comes out much more breathless than you intended and both of you know that. 

“Oh yeah?” Sukuna jostles the two of you so that you’re fully laid out across his hulking body now, and you’re squirming already - desperately trying to wiggle your hips down to where he was throbbing. To glide the sopping wet place between your thighs down his rock-hard erection. For this, you’re gifted with a branding slap! on the curve of your ass, Sukuna holding you firmly in place. “Doesn’t explain why you’re already s’fuckin’ wet like a slut, my pretty baby.”

You lick up the tattoo on his chin, “But- but Kuna-”

Another needy grind - another smack.

“Now what did I jus’ fuckin’ say?” he hisses, and the primal rasp in his tone just makes you drenched. 

And Sukuna notices - of course, he notices. Drunken red eyes widening, oh, he could almost feel how fucking soaking you were through all those clothes. Too many clothes, in his opinion.

Which is why he has one hand fisting furiously at your smart uniform shirt, not a single word or apology uttered before he just shreds it right off your heaving chest.

“Oh my god-” you squeal, your hands coming up to clutch at the tatters of fabric and your badge. And your lips pout out in such a way that makes his cock just twitch, mumbling out stubbornly, “That was my new uniform-”

“S’what happens when ya get too greedy like this.” His knees raise up a bit more to rub your glissading cunt along the very curve of his fat tip. Just dragging your dripping cunt all along his bulging dick, reveling in the sticky schwf! schwf! schwf! of wet fabric. Sukuna gives an impatient tug on the fabric of your pants, “Now get rid of this before I tear that off, too.”

You couldn’t shuffle out of your belt and trousers fast enough. And oh, even that wasn’t enough for Sukuna - dazedly flinging off what remained of your shirt, your bra, before turning his eyes downwards and-

“Oh, good girl.” he whispers at the sight of you in nothing but your flimsy excuse of panties. So soaked -  translucent, even - your saturated juices making such a glossy mess at your inner thighs. He can’t help but flick at the tiny bow on your underwear, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Such a good girl, aren’t ya?”

“K-Kuna-” you’re barely even thinking at this point, panting. “Wan’ to feel you–”

He’s tittering a breathy moan disguised as a laugh at this, bringing up a hand to cup your cheeks. “Awww, my pretty baby wants my cock?” he coos, squeezing in two of his thick fingers between your lips.

But if Sukuna was looking for an answer, then he doesn’t wait for it. 

A spit-glossed pout finds its way to his lips, mocking your own. And fuck, he was such a little tease. One hand giving your ass another slap! just to watch you whine and pretend that it didn’t make your pussy even more embarrassingly wet - shit, he was having fun. The other pulling out from inside your mouth, delicate strings of spit snap when he’s gliding his coated digits down, down, down-

“Oh-” you tuck your trembly head into the crook of his neck when Sukuna drags his thumb just across your puffed-up pussy lips. Slowly. Tantalizingly. 

“Oh?” he huffs out, licking his lips at just how steamingly wet you were inside. So ready for him. “‘Oh’ is all?” 

Sukuna plants another lingering smack on your ass, and by now you’re sure by now he’s left the bumpy imprint of all five fingers on your flesh. Tracing between your swollen folds gingerly with just the rounded tip of his finger up and down up and down. He gets greedy. 

“Damn brat-” And it’s all the warning you get before he just forces two of his fat fingers into your messily throbbing pussy. Rubbing all around your tightly quivering entrance, “S’what I get for spoiling you too much.”

There’s no hiding from the way he stretches you open so obscenely, having your sloppy hole just gaping around his digits. All wet and cozy inside.

“Oh- m-more-” you mewl. 

But he only continues rubbing saturated little circles around your teasing entrance, humming hotly against your lips. “Hmm, dunno. Think we hafta teach you some manners, silly girl.” And each of his fingers were so thick, stretching out the channel of your cunt until your mouth watered. Your body was limp, hips stuttering down softly into his hold - trying so uselessly to fuck yourself back down onto him, as if he wasn’t easily holding you still with just one beefy arm around your waist. “How about a ‘please’ first?”

You scramble to dig your nails into his bulky deltoids, tracing around his circular tattoos peeking out. “P-please!”

“Nuh uh-” he snickers. “No stutterin’”

“Please!”

Sukuna pretends to think for a few syrupy slow seconds. He nips down softly at the sensitive spots on your neck, having you trembling like a feather in his vice-like grasp. “How about a ‘pretty please’?”

And oh, he grins at the way you’re almost on the verge of tears at this point, your pouty lower lip wobbly with effort. Trying so desperately to comply with the demands of your inmate, you buck your hips so that the soft mountains on his palm graze against your clit. Whimpering, “Wh-what if I w-walked away right now, Kuna?”

“My my, resorting to threats?” he’s whispering filthily in your ear. “Now I know you’re bluffin’ woman. Because I hngh- also know-” So smug when he tugs down the soft cotton of his pants just enough to let his achy cock spring free. “That you’re gonna stay n’ beg f’me like the good girl you are.”

And you hated that he was right.

You hated that he was so big. 

Hefty girth slapping up onto his abs with a wet smack! Sukuna’s red, rounded tip was so thick that you could feel your thighs clench, swiping up a glossy glide of precum onto his t-shirt. Drip! Drip! dripping along the crevices of his veins and down to his eager balls, those tufts of pink at his base. All his solid inches winked up at you glisteningly in the harsh cell light. Just waiting. Throbbing. 

It made your mouth water. 

So you finally answer, voice strained and breaking at the very end. “I- I wan’ you really badly, Kuna.” He sucks in a breath when you bat your teary lashes up at him, “Pretty please?”

“My good girl.”

At this very moment, the only other response you get is a sensual, slow drag of his fingers out of your cunt. The exact opposite of what you wanted - because, of course, this was Ryomen Sukuna. You whine, clawing desperately at his wrist to try and reel him back.

But he doesn’t stop. Can’t stop. Almost hypnotized in the way he brings his drenched fingers up into his mouth without a second thought. Sukuna moans at the taste. A glossy trail of your messy slick forms down the corner of his slurping mouth, and he throws his head back with a guttural, “Oh fuck- s’sweeter than any of that hah- candy.”

Ah, that did it. 

Only milliseconds later, you’re being spread all flat on the floor with one swift shove of Sukuna’s big arms, panties sliding easily down your shivering thighs. It really doesn’t take much to have your dangling legs splayed out across his sculpted back, his own body shuffling down ravenously to come lips-to-lips with your puffy pussy.

And oh you can feel his smile against your dripping wet cunt, half-lidded eyes boring right up into yours. Long, pinkish tongue lolling out like he was utterly fucked - and if you angled your head just right you could see the way he was deftly spreading both of your swollen folds, the very tip of the hot muscle kissing wetly against your sloppy entrance.

“Shiiiit-” your fingers tangle themselves in his rusty pink hair. Hips jittery and bucking up drunkenly against the cool surface to chase his hot mouth. “Oh- ngh- Love havin’ your m-mouth on me- ngh-”

“Gettin’ all mouthy w’me, huh? Aren’t ya embarrassed to be absolutely ruined like this by a criminal like me?” he huffs out a bout of raspy laughter. “S’all because you decided to be a- fuck- a good- girl f’me, that’s- what.” Struggling to even get out coherent sentences because he didn’t want to part from your pretty pussy. Instead kissing all over again and again-

The bulbous metal stud of his tongue piercing thrashes up so filthily against your hot clit, coating the sensitive nub in all of his heady, swelteringly hot saliva.

And the only time you’re registering Sukuna break away just mere inches is to spit. Once. Twice. 

Thumbing across the stream of see-through spit he just grins up at you in a way you knew to be a pussydrunken expression. Glassy eyes almost drooping shut, tiny dimples cratering at the very ends of his lips, the entire lower half of his face covered in a shiny sheen of slick. Drip! Drip! Drip! right onto the middle of your shamefully spread cunt. 

“Ya got me thinkin’ I’d wanna live out my entire life sentences jus’ for a taste of this pretty pussy, woman.”

Roughly lapping with his tongue against your clit, each one pulling out crashing waves of white-hot pleasure that make you all but sob when Sukuna unabashedly adds in his fingers past your gummy hole.

“You can take it-” he hushes out uncharacteristically soothingly into your inner thighs, peppering soft, open-mouthed kisses along them. “Take ‘em f’me.”

Sukuna isn’t shy about immediately dragging his fingers along your sopping wet folds. Starting up a ruthless, simpering pace thrusting inside and out of your drooling entrance has you whining.  

“Oh.” your mouth slack-jaws open deliriously, and for the second time tonight you feel like you’re being absolutely split-apart on his thick fingers. Splaying out a hand to glide across your tummy, “You- hngh- you already feel s-so deep, Kuna.”

Your words were cracking with a whimper each time he’s delving into your gushing depths. Building you up, wringing you taut with pleasure whenever he picked up the pace. Alternating between harsh sucks on your cunt and the absolute meanest of swipes against the spongy placeholders of your sweet spots. 

“Already?” he has the audacity to cackle - cackle right in front of your teary face. “M’barely even f-fingering this pussy n’ you wanna talk about deep- lemme show ya-” He spares not even the tiniest ounce of mercy when hauling your boneless body even closer. Brows furrowing at the knocking of his chin at the very base of your cunt, the way his jaw grinded. Sukuna replaces the hand on your stomach with his own free one, guiding it up, up, up until your eyes widened and you could feel your breath tightening in your chest. 

“Here.” Drawing a burning, imaginary line about halfway through - “Here is where my cock s’gonna be so ya better get- better get ready for that, pretty baby.” Looking right in your eyes, Sukuna’s tone is laced with a vicious sort of snarl when he plows on, “Because my good girl s’gonna be able to take it.”

And you’d heard of the type or orgasms that leave you speechless, that leave you so blindsided that you don’t even realize you’re having them.

Because it takes only a few more expert tweaks of Sukuna’s lengthy fingers up against every nook and crevice of your. Scissoring, swirling - round and round until he was dredging up your dizzying orgasm. 

“Oh my god- I think I’m-” your words are garbling together pathetically, wet and as unsteady as each jolt of electricity running down your spine. “I’m-”

“Cumming.” he’s cutting through, tugging you by the thighs even closer to make out impossibly deeper with your convulsing pussy. Rolling his eyes, “I know I know, just shut up n’ cum all over my mouth would ya?”

It’s not like you could do anything else. 

And - as a little punishment - your grip tightens searingly on his scalp, just dragging your drooling pussy all over his pretty features. Letting yourself gush all down his tongue in a steady trickle while you ride him to your heart’s content. 

“Heh- getting so fuckin’- hngh- fucking greedy, aren’t ya?” he mutters out over wet slurps. Still hammering in the pads of his fingers to press up harshly into your bulging sensitive spots. “S’alright. Use me then, use me-” 

Your back arches almost painfully, vision tinging with slight black at the edges, and it’s as if you were out of control at this point. 

“Now now, what do you think you’re doin’ huh?” he feeds into each of your stuttering, slick glides down into his palm while you come down from your high. Eyes narrowing down at you, “And here I thought you were turnin’ into my- hah- g-good girl. Where are those hands going, huh?”

Shit, you didn’t even realize it at first.

Your hands are wandering so sluttily down to where his thickened base was just twitching in his lap. Aching to wrap your trembly fingers wrapping around him - struggling to even close. 

“Oh- oh my god.” your eyes widen after a few sloppy drags of your soft palm down his length. Curving it slightly to the side at the sight of another one of his signature ringed tattoos - right around his fat base. “You have another tattoo here?”

Sukuna clenches his jaw, hips rutting upwards at a sloppy staccato in synchronization with his hands and yours. “Yeah- n’ I already know you love it-” he shudders out, chest panting. “-because I can already feel just how much wetter ya got- shit-”

With all of his almost-inhuman strength, it’s almost too easy for Sukuna to drag your body downwards to his like some silly little ragdoll. 

“Kuna–” you’re dragging out in a breathy tone. Your hands shakily tugging on his t-shirt - your mind finally clear enough to realize that he was still fully clothed while you bare and fucked-out already underneath him. “Wan’ this off-”

Smack!

“Forgettin’ your place, aren’t ya, pretty baby?” he growls, but fuck did Sukuna think you looked so utterly gorgeous like this. All pouty and teary, letting out the cutest whines while you waited for him to do exactly what you said. 

And, well, he might be the notorious king of curses, the most wanted criminal in all of Japan - but that didn’t mean that Sukuna was any match for you. 

“M’only listenin’ because you were so f-fuckin’ good f’me hngh- earlier, brat.” he spits out. Hastily ridding himself of both that paper-thin t-shirt and pants - not tearing, you note with slight disgruntlement. Kissing your ass with another smack of his palm for good measure. You wince when he flicks your forehead, “So ya better not let it get to that pretty lil’ head of yours.”

But fuck, was it so difficult not to. 

Sukuna was so mouth-wateringly gorgeous, all sculpted muscle and what looked to be miles upon miles of tanned skin that you just wanted to bite into. And you realize - with a jolt - that when those other inmates rumored he had tattoos everywhere - they weren’t lying. Thick, circular rings that highlight his bulging biceps, those toned thighs as far as your eye could see. 

Now you really understood the fan mail.

Smack! Smack! Smack! 

Those drippingly wet smacks this time didn’t come from Sukuna’s hands on your ass - instead, it was from calculated, purposeful little slaps of his thick cock onto your clit.

“Heh, as much as I love to have my- ngh! my cute lil’ officer ogling me-” His hand coming up to curl around your throat, forcing you to peer downwards. “-I’d rather you look where it r-really matters, silly girl.”

He sounded so proud - barely lucid already at the very sight of your tight, glistening hole kissing up against his fat tip. 

Dragging a thumb down your wet slit to grin at the size difference even further, he purrs, “Yeah…this pussy has been givin’ me a real treat tonight. Might as well give her one back, hm?”

And he’s so big, so full that you can’t even whine out anything coherent when Sukuna sinks into your sloppy cunt inch by fucking solid inch. Pushing past that ring of feeble resistance, your pussy was greedily swallowing up every bit of his massive girth. Letting out the cutest squelches that make him moan. 

“Oh- would ya look at that?” he bares his teeth in a devilish smile. Head thrown back at how you’re already clamping and trying to milk him with your velvety walls. “Takin’ me so well, ya really are such a good girl, huh?”

Each and every hoarse little praise is panted raggedly against your ear, and your pussy slides up and down his swollen shaft in a sultry back and forth. And Sukuna just can’t tear his eyes away from the way your cunt swallows him up so greedily - so frantically like you were trying to milk something delicious out of him.

“Kuna- hngh!” your thighs quiver up and down. Hips moving in slow gyrations against how he was rummaging all inside you. “Y-you’re stretching me out so good ah-”

He’s still trying to squeeze inside, still pushing and pushing. Pressing a hand down on your stomach, “Told you I’d be right-” Bottoming out. Hard. “-here.”

Each and every juttering ram into your gooey depths have you keening, and his eyes growing even wilder. Grin curling upwards at how every kiss of the very tip of his rotund cock has your spongy cervix bouncing into him, your walls pulsing where he swipes inside. Looking for-

“Fuck!”

That. 

“Heheh- hope ya can take it, brat. Because once I start-” he presses hot peck after peck down your jaw. “I can’t stop.”

You learn very quickly that that wasn’t a threat - it was a promise. 

Every plunge into your melty pussy has you almost bawling, because Sukuna wasn’t gentle - no, he doesn’t even ease you into it. The soft curve of his head presses in so harshly against your bulging g-spot, so thoroughly in rough, wet glides. Each single hammer upwards sinking against wherever drove out the prettiest moans from your pouty lips, having you such a shaky mess underneath of him. 

Exactly how he’s  been wanting you this past year in confinement.

“W-what-” you sputter out, dragging your nails across his neck to mash your lips onto his. Tasting the candy and you and the candy- “This past year?”

Oh. Shit. 

“Heheh- did I say that out loud?” Sukuna rumbles, struggling to catch his breath while he swallows back each keened-out whimper threatening to break out from his lips. He gives your tongue a slow, tasteful suck. “Whoops- hah fuuuuck- you see what this pussy does t’me?”

He brings one large hand down to your jittery hips, the other drawing a tender stripe across your still-sensitive clit. That heavenly feeling just makes you clench, and Sukuna to throw his head back with a withering groan. “S’fuckin’ dangerous- you’re more fuckin’ dangerous than me- hah-”

You giggle at the way he was running his mouth now, sentences slurring together like he couldn’t even find the words. 

“You see this-” he pants, so sensitive that Sukuna can’t help but tuck his face into the crook of your neck. And you feel the burning flush of his cheeks, the way he brings your hand up to pat his plush pec, thumping thunderously underneath his heated skin. “-got me fuckin’ crazy here- ngh! M’on my knees for you n’ you’re all here actin’ like such a good girl.”

As he babbles, Sukuna actually falls back onto his knees. 

Dragging you right along with him to spearhead his cock vertically into your snug channel, his powerful thighs are thrusting up, up, up-

“Oh-” You’re wrapping your arms tightly around his neck when faced with another stinging smack! And this time he takes the opportunity to roll his fat thumb even deeply against your clit. “S’so-”

Sukuna’s eyes were half-lidded now, grumbling out little profanities into your mouth. “What? Can’t even speak now?” He chuckles - but it sounds higher-pitched, breathless like he was fucking losing it. “Doesn’t- ngh- doesn’t matter- this cunt is speakin’ ‘nough for the both of ya. Why dontcha act like my good girl n’ ask what she’s sayin’?”

God, your face burned with such mortification - and it’s all you can do to dart a bleary look towards that smashed CCTV camera once more. Gulping out a breathy, “Wh-what is she ah- sayin’, Kuna?” over those deafening squelch! squelch! squelches. 

He positively beams, “She’s saying…” Nipping down on your lower lip, tasting that familiar strawberry on your tongue. “-that right about now she’s gonna cum.”

And sure enough, a particularly harsh clashing glide across your g-spot has you sobbing, has you twitching - it has you cumming. Over and over all over Sukuna’s relentless cock, and not just that-

“Shit, woman.” Sukuna stares, jaw-dropped in awe at the absolute mess your overwhelmed cunt was gushing out. Coating his erratic thighs in a wet gleam of all your juices, it seeps into his skin, dripping down the curve of his legs and onto the padded floors. “Fuckin’ squirted all over me, you’re fuckin’ ah- unreal- fuck–”

If he couldn’t maintain that gruff tone of it that’s because he was genuinely in heaven. Mouth watering, achy cock twitching up into the cushiony sides of your walls once. 

Before he’s shooting such a sloppy load into your already-messed-up pussy, dumping out thick volumes of seed again and again. It sloshes in all over your insides with every quivering wave of your own orgasm, seeping out from the edges of your sopping slit. Slobbering. Overspilling. 

Sukuna grunts, feeling you shift gingerly up and down to milk each of his stringy ribbons of cum, leaving sinful dredge after dredge that paints a creamy white ring around his base. 

“Fuckin’ wastin’ it-” he’s jeering, plugging in one of his indexes into your already fully-stuffed entrance. “Better keep that shit all inside- m’not gonna let my good girl waste it, m’kay?”

“Mhm.” you nod, your drowsy body leaning heavily into his. And Sukuna wraps both his strong arms around you to just pin you to his body. “Might jus’ be the best Halloween I’ve ever had-”

“It fuckin’ better be or so help me-”

SLAM!

“Yo, King of Curses~” both of you snap your heads over to the sudden intruder that’d just crashed the bolted cell door open. He was tall, enveloped by the harsh light from behind - but you could make out those features anywhere. Any guard in this prison could. Throwing over a heavy leather jacket Sukuna’s way, “I tried to wait until your pillowtalk was over but Nanamin can only hold off the bastards on morning shift for so long. So ah chop chop, Suguru’s already waiting for us.”

Gojo Satoru.

Leader of Six Eyes, foe of Ryomen Sukuna. 

Looking at you like he wanted to positively devour you, “Or, well, if your cute lil’ officer’s coming, too, then we could continue this when we get back to the hideout. Don’t you think, sweetheart~”

And Sukuna, oh Sukuna was scowling ever so slightly at the other’s words - but he only had eyes for you. “So, whaddaya say, brat?”

---

In the hazy haven of the surveillance room, Nanami lets out a deep shudder. Head thrown back against his leather chair, he takes a few bleary moments to collect his breath. 

“Fuck…” he groans, placing that small handheld camera monitor on the table. A secret one. One that no one working in this prison building - and least of all you - knew about. All of that had been an accident, really - an unintentional part of the plan. But the way that Nanami has to drag his boxers upwards, zipping his uniform pants back up wasn’t. 

Taking a steadying gulp, he throws away that soiled tissue. Fingers punching in a few numbers on his phone, all according to his rehearsed script. “Yes, hello?” watching the monitor unwavering. Unsurprised. “We might have a situation.”

A/N. *BAM* hits you with random plottwist.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[waitimcomingtoo]

I Thought This Was A Closet Party

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter helps you with a favor that brings you closer than ever. Like, stuck in a closet together type of close

Masterlist

“Hello Peter.” You greeted him stiffly. “You look very sexy today.”

Peter swiveled in his chair to look at you, perched in his door way with a look on your face that he knew all too well.

“Oh God.” He groaned. “What do you want?”

“What makes you think I want something, my delectable best friend?” You asked as you walked into his room and shut the door behind you. Peter his earbuds out and looked up at you, giving you his full attention.

“Maybe because called me “delectable”.” He said pointedly and you waved your hand in dismissal.

“Haha.” You faked laughed and draped yourself over his lap, making him adjust himself in the chair to catch you. “You are just as funny as you are handsome.”

“Fake flirting?” He raised an eyebrow at you as he secured his arms around your waist to keep you from falling off the chair. “What do want? My kidney?”

“Oh, Peter. You are so silly. Your sense of humor is unmatched.” You laughed again as you patted his chest. “Have I mentioned I love this flannel? It’s so rugged and lesbian chic. You fill it out really well. Is it Gucci?”

“It’s from Goodwill and I’m not giving you anything. Flattery gets you nowhere-“

“Hold on.” You interrupted before sighing dramatically. “Sorry. I just got lost in your eyes. They remind me of the ocean.”

“My eyes are brown.” Peter shut you down instantly.

“I know. Water pollution is so devastating. I bet you could end it with just a smile and a wink.” You flirted around you walked your fingers up his chest and booped his nose.

“That’s one of the weirder come on’s I’ve heard.” He laughed at you. Even thought he knew you were only kidding, it didn’t stop his heart from pounding when you flirted with him. He did his best to keep a straight face as you toyed with the collar of his shirt. You looked up suddenly and your face softened, almost like you were being genuine for a moment.

“Your face looks scrumptious in the moonlight.” You deadpanned, making Peter groan loudly and rub his tired eyes.

“I need you to stop.” Peter whined as you laughed at yourself.

“I fantasize about us being in love to fall asleep.” You continued your charade as you wrapped your arms around his neck. That one hit a little too close to home for Peter and he blew out a breath.

“Just take it. Take my kidney. This is unbearable.”

“I really like your personality.” You tried again.

“Not gonna happen.” Peter insisted.

“You butt looks good in those jeans?” You phrased it as more of a question as you looked at him with hope.

“You got me.” He sighed. “You know my butt is a direct pathway to my heart. What do you need from me?”

You smiled with pride as you finally broke him down and climbed off his lap.

“I need an interview with Cleatus Kassidy for an article.” You told him as you clasped your hands under your chin.

“Okay.” Peter nodded. “Where is he?”

You took a step towards Peter and brushed a curl behind his ear, letting your hand rest in the back of his neck and and tangle in his curls. He knew this was just another step in your scheme to get him to help you, but he couldn’t help from leaning into your touch.

“Queensboro Correctional facility.” You said sheepishly, and Peter finally understood what all the flirtatious precautions were for.

“He’s in jail?” Peter nearly screamed when you broke the news.

“No.” You said and Peter relaxed. “He’s in prison.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Peter dismissed you and held out the scissors again. “I’d rather you take the kidney.”

“Please?” You pleaded and tilted his chin up to look at you. “I can’t be a criminal investigator without any experience and I’m already behind since my stupid professor doesn’t like me. Which is insane, by the way, since I’m adorable and charming.”

“Yeah, I cant imagine why he wouldn’t like you, you being so humble and all.” He replied. 

“Right?” You answered, unaware of his sarcasm. “I need this to prove I belong in his class. This is the break I’ve been waiting for.”

“What do you need from me?” Peter sighed. “That doesn’t mean I’m helping, I just want an estimation on how stupid this plan is before I put an offer down.”

“I need you to help me break into the prison so I can put my name in his visitors list.” You said all in one breath.

“You want to break into jail?” Peter whispered harshly so his aunt wouldn’t hear.

“No.” You said bluntly. “I want to break into prison.”

“Nope. Not happening.” Peter held up his hands in defense and swiveled back to face his desk.

“Peter, please?” You begged as you turned his chair around. “Do you understand how much this means to me?”

“And do you understand that people typically try to break out of prison? Not in?” Peter sassed you.

“But this is the only way to get on his visitors list.” You whined. “I’ve tried calling everyday for the three weeks but he keeps getting his phone privileges taken away for behavioral misconducts.”

“What kind of behavior misconducts?” Peter lowered his eyebrows skeptically. You looked down at your hands and timidly picked at your chipping nail polish.

“The stabbing kind.” You mumbled and Peters jaw dropped.

“That’s a bad kind!” He exclaimed.

“But no one ever finds a knife!” You retorted. “The victims always have deep puncture wounds but no knife. And the guards once found bite marks.”

“Oh, great. So he takes a little nibble after puncturing his victims.” Peter clasped his hands together on his lap. “Can’t wait to meet him. Should I bake him some cornbread as a gift?”

“That’d be nice.” You ignored his sarcasm and answered honestly.

“I was being sarcastic.” Peter snapped and got out of his chair.

“Good for you!” You said back. “No one investigated the bite marks even though they didn’t match Cleatus’s dental records. Not to mention, his MO has completely changed since getting into prison. He used to go after blonde women in their 40’s-

“Karen’s.” Peter cut in.

“Exactly.” You nodded. “And now he goes after men who are in for non violent crimes with no previous records. Something weird is going and no one is investigating it. That’s why I need to get in there and see what’s up but I need your help to do that. You owe me since you got me thinking about how much I want cornbread.”

Peter leaned on his hand and stared at you, trying to decipher his next move. You folded your arms and stared back, trying to look serious.

“People are dying, Peter.” You said softly, making him sigh.

“I also want cornbread.” He said quietly as he kept his gaze down.

“Peter, I will bake you all the cornbread you can eat until you’re too heavy to swing from your webs if you help me.” You told him as you sat back on his lap. Peter squeezed your hip gently and pursed his lips.

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “We could get in a lot of trouble.”

“Your ass is bigger than Captain America’s.” You started up again with the compliments, making a smile tug at Peters lips. 

“I’m in.”

“Yay! Thank you so much.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “When I win the Pulitzer Prize for my work you’ll be the first one I thank.”

“All right, all right.” Peter chuckled softly as he rubbed your back. “What’s the first step of the plan?”

“You have your suit, so it’s only fair I get a disguise of my own.” You began.

“Does that mean...”

“Yep.” You smiled. “Road trip to Goodwill.”

“You treat me so well.” Peter beamed.

~

A day later, you stood outside Queensboro Correctional facility in a makeshift guard next to Peter in his Spiderman suit.

“This is it?” Peter asked as he looked at the building. It’s height alone made him feel small, and the fact he was the reason a few of those inmates were in there didn’t make him feel any better.

“This is it.” You confirmed as you adjusted your tie.

“How do we get in?” Peter looked to you.

“The computer room is the only one with a window that opens since you need a key to get in. It locks automatically so you have to stay there while I do my part of the plan. Once my name is on the list, we can meet back at the computer room.”

“And then we get cornbread?” Peter asked.

“And then we get cornbread.” You nodded.

“Awesome. You ready?”

“Ready.” You secured yourself to Peters side but stopped him before he could swing away. “Oh wait. Hang on.” You took out your phone and quickly dialed a number.

“Who are you calling?” Peter wondered as you held your phone to your ear.

“Remember that thing we talked about? Awesome. Yeah, you can do it now.” You said into the phone as you looked to the sky. Right as Peter looked up in the same direction, a hot blue lightning rod struck the power lines, sending a wave of sparks to rain down. The lights inside the prison flickered for a moment before coming back on.

“You got Thor involved?” Peter asked in shock.

“I needed him to knock out the security cameras so we didn’t get caught.” You shrugged. “Unless, of course, you wanted to join Cleatus in there.”

“Just grab on.” Peter huffed and wrapped his arm around your waist. He shot a web towards the fifth floor and swung you up there with ease. He stuck to the side of the building as he opened the window, pushing you inside before going in himself.

“You didn’t have to roll me in like I’m a bowling ball.” You grumbled as you dusted yourself off.

“You’re just mad because I always beat you at Wii bowling.” Peter shrugged as he brushed some dust off your shoulder.

“Okay, but which one of us cried because they lost at Wii tennis last week?” You asked as you peered out the window in the door for any guards.

“Me, but I wasn’t crying because I lost.” Peter insisted.

“Sure you weren't.” You quipped as you fixed your uniform.

“You hit me in the face with your controller!” Peter whispered harshly, not wanting to alert anyone to his presence.

“The past can hurt us, but we have to chose to run from it or learn from it.” You said causally as you continued to look out the window.

“Do not quote Lion King right now, I swear to God.” Peter grumbled as he took a seat at one of the computers.

“You’re not being very Hakuna matata right now.” You said quietly and Peter glared at you, piercing you through his mask.

“I just feel like you’re being a little too slimy and not enough satisfying.” You added and he balled his hands into a fist.

“We are in a correctional facility right now and unless you’d like to write your next exposition from a cell in a women’s prison, I suggest you get on with your part of the plan.” Peter said with superficial calmness.

“Right. Sorry. I’ll go find a guard.” You hung your head in shame and left the room. You tried to blend in as you walked through the halls, smiling tightly at any guards you passed. Coming behind a corner, you found a single guard by an open window and took the next step of the plan. You ducked behind the wall and held your fingers against the intercom in your ear.

“Eagle 1, do you copy? Eagle 1, over.” You whispered.

“Who’s Eagle 1? Don’t even tell me you got Sam in on the plan.” Peters voice filled your ear.

“You’re Eagle 1!” You whispered abrasively. “We can’t have a heist without code names.”

“I’m thinking of a lot of code names I’d like you call you right now.” Peter mumbled.

“Are you in position?” You asked him.

“Yes, I am in position.” Peter confirmed as he stuck to the side of the building.

“I found a guard.” You told him. “I’m on the west side of the fifth floor. Do you see me?”

“I see you.” Peter responded.

“Okay. Do your thing.”

You watched Peter swing back and forth between the buildings outside of the window where you were positioned. When the guard didn’t look up, you had to step in.

“Wow! Is that Spider-Man?” You asked dramatically as you came around the corner. The guard barely glanced up at the window and looked at you.

“Yeah.” He sighed.

“That’s so cool. He’s like a celebrity.” You gushed.

“Yeah.” He said again.

“Boy, wouldn’t it be awesome to get a picture with him? You’d be the coolest guy ever if you could get a picture.” You forced a laugh, beginning to panic when the guard wasn’t responding the way you hoped.

“Eh.” He shrugged unenthusiastically.

“Why don’t you give me your phone and I’ll take your picture? I’m sure Spiderman wouldn’t mind.” You looked at Peter and gave him a thumbs up, which he reciprocated.

“Meh.” He said and began to walk away, making your heart race with fear.

“Okay, um, wait!” You called after him, still needing the code from him.

“What?” He turned around, growing frustrated with you. Your eyes darted across his face before landing on his name tag.

“Sebastian.” You faked a smile. “I really need to get onto one of the computers but I left my phone as home. Do you think you could tell me the passcode?”

Sebastian cocked his head to the side and looked at you sideways for a moment, making you shift uncomfortably. You were sure you were caught just from his look.

“Where’s your name tag?” He questioned. You looked down at where your name tag should be and gulped. The uniform was pretty easy to make out of miscellaneous items from Goodwill, but you’d forgotten about a name tag.

“An inmate…swallowed it.” You lied, hoping he would somehow believe you with your pithy excuse.

“Which inmate?” Sebastian asked, making you suck in a breath. You raked your brain for the most generic name you could think of.

“Josh?” It came out as more of question as a bead of sweat rolled down your forehead. To your surprise, Sebastians face softened and he let out a laugh.

“Damn. That is so Josh.” He chuckled. “The code is 877-393-4448. If you talk to Sheila at the front desk, she can get you another name tag. This is the ninth one Josh has swallowed.”

You gave Sebastian a gentle smile, surprised he was so eager to help you.

“Thank you.” You said sincerely. Sebastian nodded and returned the smile.

“And between you and me, Captain America is way cooler.” He said behind his hand, like it was a secret.

“Totally.” You laughed before he walked away.

“I heard that.” Peter grumbled into your intercom.

“I was just playing along to keep my cover.” You defended yourself as you wrote the code down in your notes.

“Eagle 1, the recipe has been downloaded. I repeat, the recipe had been downloaded.” You whispered so only Peter could hear.

“What recipe?”

“The code!” You almost yelled. “I got the code, you ninny. Are you back in the computer room?”

“I just got in.” He told you.

“Okay. I’m texting you the code. Tell me when you get it.”

“I got it.” He confirmed.

“Go to inmate information.” You walked him through the steps.

“Yep.”

“Find inmate 24601.” You said, Cleatus’s number.

“Getting scared at how much you know about the prison computer system.” Peter laughed nervously as he did what you asked.

“Go to visitors.” You ignored his comment.

“Okay.”

“And put my full name.” You instructed. Your heart raced as you waited for him to complete the most important part of the plan.

“You’re on.” Peter told you, making you sigh in relief.

“Yes! I love you.” You cheered. “You’re the best best friend in the world.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Peter said quietly, still reeling from you saying you loved him.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” You gushed as you walked back towards the computer room. You were flooded with excitement and appreciation for Peter that was pouring out of you.

“And Thor, apparently.” He commented as he got out of the computer chair.

“Shut up.” You teased. “All we need to do now is get out of here without being seen. Think you can do that?”

“You’re talking to Spiderman, baby.” Peter quipped. “I can do anything.”

“Except put the toilet seat down after using it, apparently.” You shrugged, biting your tongue so you wouldn’t laugh as you passed a guard.

“I told you I was sorry for that.”

“Do you know what it’s like to fall into a toilet, Peter?” You asked him. “My knees hit my shoulders.”

“I think you’re being a little dramatic.” He insisted.

“I could’ve drowned.” You snapped as you came around a corner. Your eyes widened in shock as Peter, still in his suit, met you in the hallway.

“Could you really, though?” He sassed as he approached you. Your throat went dry at the sight of him and you struggled to find the words to say.

“What are you doing here?” You whispered as you pulled him back around the corner.

“Oh, didn’t you hear? We broke in. You know, like a crime.” Peter said casually, making you groan loudly.

“Do not rehash John Mulaney jokes right now.” You demanded. “Why are you here? You left the computer room?”

“You said we were gonna meet up.” He said, beginning to see how panicked you were.

“Yes! Inside the computer room! So we can escape out the window.” You had to keep yourself from yelling so you frantically paced back and forth. There was no explanation for why or how Spider-Man was inside the prison and all it would take was a quick search of your name to reveal you didn’t actually work there.

“All right, so we’ll just go back in there.” Peter said calmly, trying to address the situation.

“We can’t just go back in there. It locks automatically.” You told him. “That’s why you were supposed to wait in there to let me in.”

“Oh.” Peter said meekly.

“Yeah. Oh.” You poked him angrily.

“What do we do now?” He asked, his panic levels rising to match your own. You opened your mouth to speak until the sound of keys jingling caught your attention.

“Wait, someone’s coming. We can’t get caught.” You gripped his shoulders and looked at him in fear.

“What’s the big deal? You have your guard costume on. Plus, everyone love the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.” Peter tried to calm you down but it only made you worse.

“Unless you want to become the friendly cell block inmate, we need to hide.” You whispered as you looked around. You spotted a janitors closet down the hall and tugged Peter towards it. “Get in here.”

You scrambled inside the closet, not realizing how cramped it would be with two people and a prisons worth of cleaning supplies. Your back was pressed against shelves and the front of you was pressed against Peter, someone he wasn’t complaining about. You rested your hands on his chest and looked through the slits in the door vent as Sebastian walked by the closet.

“He looks mean.” Peter gulped. “He looks like a biter.”

“Don’t judge him.” You whispered. “He was actually very nice to me.”

“Why are you getting friendly with the correctional officers?” Peter looked down at you, feeling a familiar sense of jealously bubble in his tummy.

“Why are you so doo doo at following directions?” You shot back.

“Your adjectives never fail to blow my mind.” Peter shook his head as he slipped his mask off.

“yOuR aDjeCtiVes nEVer fAil”, you mimicked his voice as you moved your hand like a puppet, “yeah okay School House Rock.”

“Keep it coming with the obscure references.” Peter leaned closer to taunt you. “Keep it coming please.”

You continued to berate Peter until his attention snapped towards the door and he put a gloved hand over your mouth.

“Wait, shhh!” He silenced you as he squinted through the vents in the door.

“Ew. When was the last time you washed your hands? We’re in a prison! You touched the doorknobs.” You grimaced as your took his hand off your mouth.

“You don’t like my doorknob hands? You don’t like my grimy doorknobs hands?” Peter asked as he rubbed his hands all over your face while you gagged.

“Might I remind you our personal freedoms are at stake? Do you want to go to jail?” You asked as you held his hands tightly in place to keep them off of you. Peter looked down guilty when he remembered where you were and put his hands down.

“I’ll be quiet.” He said sheepishly. You both stood in silence as another guard walked by, the only sounds coming from your heartbeats. Being this close to you was one thing, but Peters heightened senses was giving him gateway to a whole other experience. He could literally smell your fear, as well as your strawberry shampoo.

“I cannot believe we’re hiding in a supply closet.” He laughed a little to distract himself. “What’s next, we’re forced to share a bed?”

“I know. Or like, my mom can’t pay the bills so she sells me to your family.” You added, laughing along with him until you heard footsteps. “Oh, shh.”

You pressed yourself even closer to Peter as a group of guards walked past, trying to breathe as quietly as possible so they didn’t hear you. Peters has tightened with you this close, placing his hand on the small of your back to keep you in place. Your ear was flush against his heartbeat and you could hear it beating like a drum as you clung to him for safety.

“This is ridiculous. I am never going along with one of your plans again. They always put us in the most uncomfortable positions.” Peter grumbled, trying to act like having you this close wasn’t the greatest thing to happen to him.

“No they don’t.” You scoffed and continued to look out the vents for guards.

“Remember your fantastic movie night plan when you convinced me to watch 365 Days? How did that turn out, huh?” He reminded you making your whole face go white as you remembered that movie.

“I don’t want to talk about that.” You avoided his eyes as your cheeks flamed.

“Exactly.” Peter argued. “We couldn’t even look at each other. We were too frozen from shock to turn it off.”

“Every time I hear the word “boat” I get flashbacks.” You shuddered.

“Okay let’s not talk about the boat scene when we’re this close.” Peter squeezed his eyes shut to keep himself calm.

All of him.

“Why?” You asked curiously, not understanding what was going through Peters mind.

“I’m gonna shish kebab you, that’s why.” Peter said with embarrassment, suddenly wishing he had left the mask on to keep you from seeing how flushed he was. The wheels turned in your brain and a sheepish smile came on your face as you realized what he was worried about. You opened your mouth to speak but quickly shut it when a janitor and a guard stopped outside your closet.

“Kassidy again? What now?” The janitor asked with a sigh. You listened closely as you clung to Peter. He could barely focus on the conversation as your heartbeat fell into rhythm with him.

“Another stabbing.” The guard said. “If this guy gets one more shot, he’s getting moved to max.”

“All right. I’ll grab a mop.” The janitor said, making you and Peter look at each other in a panic.

“Shit.” You whispered with wide eyes.

“What?” Peter asked.

“Either you’re shish kebab-ing me from the back or the mop he’s looking for is right behind me.” You explained. Peter peered behind you and saw the handle of a mop leaning against the shelves and felt his heart race.

“Oh God. I can’t go to prison! I’m too soft and wholesome.” Peter began to freak out, feeling his forehead drip with sweat.

“Yeah, I hear that defense works really well in court.” You said sarcastically.

“Do not sass me, woman! This is your fault!” He exclaimed and you knew he was right. It was your fault.

“Let’s not play the blame game.” You said timidly. “And calling me “woman” like that is demeaning.”

“I know. Sorry women.” Peter said sincerely as he looked up. You looked up too but saw nothing but a water stain.

“Who are you apologizing to?” You asked.

“Captain Marvel.” He said sheepishly.

“What are we gonna do? We can’t get caught.” You whined quietly as you anxiously clutched Peters arms. Peter cleared his throat as another wave of your shampoo was scent his way.

“On the one hand, we could explain to them what we’re doing here and hope they have a sense of humor and sympathy for college students.” Peter chuckled shortly. “On the other hand, you smell like strawberries.”

“Wait, shh.” You stepped even closer to him when the janitor came closer to the closet door.

“Come here.” Peter said as he turned you around. He wrapped his arm firmly around your shoulders and held you flushed against himself as the janitor opened the door. You both held your breath and you pressed your back as close to Peters chest as you possibly could as the janitor grabbed the mop you were previously leaning against and left the closet. You waited a few seconds before sighing in relief, staying in Peters arms as you relaxed.

“I cannot believe that worked.” You breathed, still scared to talk too loudly in case he came back.

“I know. My friend Drax taught me how to do it. If you stand perfectly still, you become invisible to the human eye.” Peter spoke in a hushed tone as he panted.

“Wow.” You swallowed, your mouth having gone dry from fear.

“I know.” Peter nodded, resting his chin on top of your head. You had finally collected yourself when you felt something pressed against your leg.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Am I leaning on another mop?”

More silence filled the closet as that something continued to press against you.

“I wish I could say yes.” Peter said after a minute. You hung your head and tried to keep your laughter to yourself.

“Oh my God.” You sputtered. “Peter!”

“I’m sorry.” He said sincerely. “I have no control over him.”

“Him?!” You craned your neck to look at him in shock.

“If you must know, I call him Samuel L. Jackson.” Peter said sheepishly.

“Why?” You looked at him over your shoulder and he looked down in shame.

“Because he’s in everything.” Peter admitted, making you look up at the ceiling and count to ten in your head.

“You belong here.” You nodded. “You belong in prison.”

“I’m sorry!” Peter exclaimed. “Don’t get mad at me. It’ll only make it worse.”

“Everything I’m learning about you right now is against my will.” You grimaced.

“Wait, Karen isn’t picking up any heat signatures near us.” Peter said as he slipped his mask back on.

“Now he changes the subject.” You muttered to yourself.

“The coast is clear. We gotta go.” Peter scooped you up and opened the closet door. “And I’m not waiting for your little slow ass.”

“This is not how I imagined my Saturday.” You commented as Peter carried you back to the computer room as fast as he could.

“That makes three of us.” Peter said as he rounded the corner.

“Three?”

“Can’t forget about Samuel.” He gulped, knowing you’d get mad at him for what he said. You shook your head as he set you down in front of the the computer room door.

“We can’t go out this way. The door is locked, remember?” You put your hands on your hips and looked at him.

“Maybe, but it won’t be unlocked when we use this key I stole from the janitor.” Peter said as he smugly held up a key. “Even has a cute little label on it that says ‘computer room.’ How convenient.”

A smile lit up your face as you took the key from him, wasting no time in unlocking the door and pulled him inside. Once you were hidden from view, you pulled him into a long hug.

“I’m glad you came along.” You murmured in his ear. Peter smiled as he hugged you back, nuzzling into your hair. “Lets go.”

Two hours later, you were back in Peters apartment in your regular clothes. Peter could hear you talking on the phone after you stepped out take a call. After all the romantic moments, he really didn’t want to go back to being just friends.

Peter snapped out of his trance when you came back from his balcony, a giddy smile on your face.

“I just got off the phone with Queensboro.” You beamed. “I have a 2 pm appointment tomorrow with Cleatus.”

You punctuated your sentence by breaking out in a happy dance, grabbing Peters hand and twirling yourself with it.

“So our little plan worked.” He chuckled as you moved back and forth, dancing to music that wasn’t there.

“Couldn’t have done it without you.” You said as you took your head off his shoulder to look at him fondly. “Love you.”

“Ew. Whatever.” Peter pretended to gag to distract from his blush.

“You know”, you smiled coyly at Peter, “I’m gonna be pretty hungry after my interview tomorrow. All that criminal investigating is sure to work up an appetite.”

“I’m sure it will.” He responded, not knowing where you were going with that statement. You rested your head back on his shoulder as you continued to sway.

“Maybe you can take me on that date you’ve been dying to ask me on.”

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @maybemona @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort   @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr  @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines  @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @spideygirl2003 @the-crazy-fanfictionist @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @jillanaholland @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker @wendaiii @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop  @smilexcaptainx @hes-amarillo @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @purefluff @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @lou-la-lou @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @quacksonfics @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258​ @maybemona​

[writingtoforgetreality]

Guarding Your Heart (Helmut Zemo x Reader)

Request: THE ENDING WAS PURRRRRFECT i'm gonna miss tfatws sm. I don't know if on the raft they allow inmates to be visited but let's imagine it: you visiting zemo for the first time since he was sent there, a little angst cuz you can't have skin-to-skin contact anymore but you two talk about some things and how life is going, if everything is okay 🥺🥺🥺 (by anonymous), [Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: Inmate: Helmut Zemo. Accommodation: The Raft. Visitors: Generally prohibited. Exceptions: Maintaining a friendly relationship with an Avenger.

Words: 3,547

Warnings: angst, jail (is that a warning?), fluff, feels, my emotions, I didn’t use any pronouns!, TFATWS spoilers, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Countless attempts from your side had been ignored. You were an average citizen. No superpower, no higher-up. Ordinary. It appeared that the Raft did not think highly of such people. Not when they proposed to visit an inmate. And definitely not when said inmate was the same Baron who broke out of a high security jail in Germany. But he was yours. His imprisonment in Europe had not been as restricted. For his sake, you had moved to the other end of the world. Simply so you could spend a bit of time together every day. Your old life had been completely abandoned. And for almost ten years, Germany had been your home. Until Sam & Bucky entered your lives once again. Though you started off on the wrong foot, this time around, you were more than grateful for their presence. Without them, especially without the former Winter Soldier, Helmut would still rot away in that tiny prison cell. Your time together had been adventurous. Often hazardous. Life threatening. In the end, you made it out alive. Coming back stronger than ever before.

It could have been a fairy tale. A long awaited fulfillment of a seemingly impossible dream. Were it not for the Wakandans crushing your reverie at the worst place imaginable. The Sokovian memorial. Where you held one of his clothed hands in both of yours. Shedding tears, remembering his old life. His wife. His son. You would never replace them. At the same time, you did not even intend to. His past was part of him & made him to the man you loved endlessly. Bucky did not receive your blame. Were you mad at him for handing Helmut over to the Wakandans? Absolutely. Then again, the super soldier was the reason why he was out of jail in the first place. It was a fine line between resentment & gratitude.

Luckily, throughout the various missions you had been a part of, you gained Sam’s trust. He took a liking in you & when he saw you struggling, he was eager to help. Obviously, the Raft yielded when the Captain America himself transmitted an inquiry. Only a few hours passed & you were on your way to Helmut’s current accommodation. A small jet that had been arranged just for you. In this instant, you did not feel average anymore. For a second, you experienced what it would feel like to live this kind of lifestyle. The one of a Baron. Why you were still unfamiliar with that even though your boyfriend was rich? Truthfully, you did not touch his money at all. It was his & when he did not have access to it while imprisoned, you did not dare using it either. Loyalty. Of course Zemo suggested utilization for you but you declined politely. After reasoning enough, he swore he fell even harder for you. The staunchness of you was remarkable.

It was bizarre. Entering the Raft with multiple workers circling you. You were told that these were the security measures that had to be met if someone wanted to visit an inmate. To you, it sounded like a poor excuse but you would not speak that thought out loud. Prisoners needed social contact. Physical contact could not be provided, that much you understood. But one would go insane without having the opportunity to see another human being that was not a guard working here.

Your body was a mess. Heart hammering at your chest with such a force, you believed it would burst any second. Irregular breaths left your lips. Trembling hands fiddled with each other in order to prevent others from noticing. Weak knees that threatened to no longer stabilize your body weight with each step you took forward. To bystanders, you probably appeared as a put-together person. On the inside, there was chaos. Nothing but chaos. How would you react? How would he react? Would you have privacy? An audience? Observers? Innumerable questions flooded your mind. Seemingly, having only one purpose. To drown you. To drown every bit of you. But you would not succumb that easily. You were so close to where you wanted to be. The fight could not end now. Disappointment would cloud you. More importantly, it would cloud him.

Four guards. It took four guards to guide you through the facility. To your surprise, the insides radiated a calm, almost content atmosphere. The walk lasted an eternity. At least, that was what it felt like. Your Helmut occupied a cell at the very end of the building. No explanation had been given to you as to why they decided to accommodate him there. Maybe, with Sam’s assistance, you could change his quarters & move it further up to the entrance. That way, if you visited again, you would not have to waltz through every narrow hallway. Listening to the whimpers of some inmates. The screams. The bashing. The…pain. There was only one person here who you were familiar with. Helmut. The others? You had no idea what crimes they implemented to end up at a place as dark as this.

“He’s at the end of that corridor.” one of the guards motioned for the others to leave you alone. His hand gestured to a tall white door that had a small built-in window. Your sight was obstructed by the frosted glass of it.

“Will you join me?” you questioned, wanting to prepare for it if he had to accompany you.

“Generally, yes.” he breathed out, putting his hands in the pockets of his uniform. Then, he sighed quietly & eyed you once more. “But since it was requested you speak to him alone, I’ll leave you be.”

“Whose request was that?” your eyebrows furrowed. The Raft was not an institution for exceptions. At first, the mere thought of getting to see Helmut again was an impossibility.

“Captain America’s.” he stated monotonously. The way his face scrunched up made it obvious that he was less than pleased about this decision. As soon as you were out of here, you had to call Sam & thank him for making this feasible.

“Oh.” it was all you could muster at the moment. There was an overwhelming feeling you had to handle. And it was not exactly one of your specialties.

“The door is unlocked. Walk down the hallway & the cell will come into view. If something happens, there’s an emergency button that should be operated whe-“ you stopped him during his speech.

“Thanks for your concern but I’ll be just fine.” a genuine smile formed on your face. The guard nodded at you, still slightly uncertain, & turned around without another word. Letting the uncomfortable silence envelop you. Your legs were frozen in place, preventing you from running to him. Maybe it was the thought of having to say goodbye again. As wonderful as it was that you were allowed to visit him, the concept of abandoning him broke your heart. The difference between the jail in Germany & this one was that you could not linger close by. The trip lasted for a while. Daily visitations were out of the question.

Slow but steady steps moved you over to the door. A hand raised to the doorknob. The coldness of it grounded you the slightest bit. You had to take a few deep breaths, just like he had instructed you multiple times before, in order to reduce the fast, almost unhealthy pace of your beating heart. Your hand twisted the doorknob to one side & when you heard the lock click, you pushed the door open with your entire body weight. Otherwise, you would have been too weak to do so. Bright lights had you squint your eyes. A hand was used as a shield to block most of the luminosity. When your eyes adjusted to the different setting, you straightened your back & brushed non-existent dust from your clothes. This motion gave you something to do with your hands. It was a much needed distraction. You held your head high, looking straight forward to the very end of the corridor. At the sides, the walls were painted bright white. Almost too bright for your liking. It resembled a hospital & you had never enjoyed them. The consistency of it was broken with the glass wall you were staring at. The one which was straight ahead. His cell, you figured. But there was no silhouette you could make out. Considering the size, you should have noticed him already. But he was not there. So you no longer moved in slow motion but jogged over to the pane.

Fast footsteps echoed in Helmut’s ears. Time was fluid in a jail like that. But it had not been long since a guard brought him breakfast. Whoever visited him now, it seemed to be urgent on the basis of the fast pace they approached. He scooted closer to the frigid wall behind his bed. Something he did to mess with the employees here. At least it gave him something to do. Besides reading tons of books & listening to the radio that had been prepared for him. That was luxurious enough for an inmate. All of a sudden, it was silent. Too quiet for his liking. The next thing he heard was music to his ears.

“Helmut?” your broken voice whispered & filled the room. Was he turning hallucinational? Nobody would blame him in a place like this. But not even his imagination could recall your softness so perfectly. He stood up, carefully, & widened his eyes at the sight of you. There you were, on the other side of the transparent wall. Separating the outside world from the box he found himself in.

“(Y/N)? You’re here.” no time was wasted. Helmut dragged his body as close to yours as his cell allowed him to. One of his hands touched the smooth surface & you mimicked his actions. There were tears threatening to escape but you tried everything to keep them locked inside. “Don’t cry.” the volume of his voice had lowered. Nobody could listen to you in here but it almost felt illicit to talk at a normal volume.

“I’m sorry.” you chuckled shortly, your free hand coming to your face to wipe at your cheeks. How he wanted to be the one to touch your tender skin. To have you lean into his palm.

“What are you sorry for?” the proximity was given yet unattainable. Your gaze averted, staring at the pavement floor.

“I don’t know…For everything?” you shrugged your shoulders, laughing at how incomprehensible you sounded. Helmut shook his head. That was how he knew you. Always being the one to carry everyone’s burden on your own. Though you did not need to.

“Stop that.” it was an order but not a forceful one. One that eased the tension immediately.

“Okay.” you mouthed.

The floor was everything but comfortable but you made do. Sitting cross legged opposite of Helmut was dreamlike. In your dreams, you had skin-to-skin contact but that delight had been denied. Simply having him next to you was enough for now. Helmut had his elbows on his knees, watching your every move. Reminiscing every small detail he could get a glimpse of. But there was nothing new he came across. He remembered you like the back of his hand. Sometimes even more precisely than you did yourself. And yet, his observation resembled the first time when his warm, chocolate brown eyes fell onto your frame. Usually, you handled his stares well but something inside of you told you to inquire.

“What?” you asked with a playful, teasing tone. His eyes locked onto yours. You giggled at his confused state.

“Is there a problem?” Helmut turned insecure for a second. And people who knew him were aware that he was barely ever uncertain.

“No, not at all.” you shook your head to emphasize your words. “Just…you’re staring.” you called him out. It made him laugh, his head falling back briefly.

“Is it forbidden to stare?” one of his eyebrows perked up. “I believe most people are flattered by the attention.” though he played the serious act quite well, you could tell that he was joking.

“You’re awful.” you laughed at his antics.

“I am aware.” he saw you opening your mouth to disagree with him but Helmut was faster. “(Y/N)?”

“What is it?” you rested your intertwined hands in your lap. But he had noticed the trembles. He had noticed you struggling. And he realized that it was because of the position you were currently in.

“How is it like? Outside, I mean.” he skillfully changed the topic before the atmosphere between you two could shift in a negative way.

“You have a radio.” your finger pointed to the one sitting on a small table inside the cell right next to a stack of read-through books. “I’m sure you have an idea of what it’s like.”

“But I would love to hear it from you.” there was an encouraging smile on his lips that you could not resist, no matter what.

“Well, Karli’s dead. Sharon took care of her.” you began & watched him nodding approvingly. “Bucky finished his amends & it really looks like he’s doing much better. He’s taking baby steps but he’s doing well.” you could not suppress the small smile when you spoke about the super soldier. Helmut was not jealous. Bucky & you had become fast friends over time.

“Could you deliver a message from me?” he continued after a hum from you. “Tell James that I am happy for him. And thank him from me.” that warmed your heart. All of the previous disputes aside, they had started tolerating each other. You would not go as far as calling them friends but what was not could still be.

“I will.” you promised with certainty. “Right, um…Sam is Captain America. This job is made for him. I truly believe, with him, we’ll achieve great things.” you quieted down, not exactly knowing how to continue.

“So you established Sam’s & James’ success. But what about you?” he read you too easily. No other person saw through you like he did. That affirmed the close bond you two shared even further.

“What about me?” a phony dumfounded expression was plastered on your face.

“How have you been doing?” it was a question with so much emotion & care hidden beneath, it brought tears to the corners of your eyes instantly. Your attempts to blink them away were gratuitous. They started rolling down over your cheeks. So fast, in fact, you could not even wipe them away with your sleeves in time. Helmut’s heart broke at this sight of you. It was clear as day that you experienced a rough patch. The cause of it was him being imprisoned, that much he knew. “Talk to me.” he whispered & cursed the guards for not granting his partner access inside his cell. But they thought he would plan another escape. At the same time, they were unaware that he would not take the risk to jeopardize your safety with a second try.

“It’s…” you took a deep breath to steady your voice & avoid the wavering & cracking. “It’s been hard.” you admitted quietly. “Without you.” you finished. Your eyes flickered up to his face. His look brought you the tiniest bit of contentment. The way his body language could comfort you in such a way was prodigious.

“Love.” the nickname gained your entire attention. It was like all of your worries melted away by the simple sound of it rolling from his lips. The tears did not stop but they were mixed with happiness now. Gratitude that you shared this moment with him. You were here. Helmut was here. Similar to how it used to be. Yet, entirely different. “Please look at me when I tell you this.” & you obeyed without a second thought. “You are my world. If I could change this situation, trust me that I would instantly. I understand your struggles. And I abominate that I cannot dispose of your demons. Or make them part of my own. Your pain causes me aching ten times worse. It is painful seeing you like this. My love, you must promise me one thing.” it was hard for him to get through this speech without his voice fading at the emotions he was experiencing. But he had to stay strong for you. It would only cause you more distress if you noticed him showing how affected he truly was.

“Anything, Helmut.” your reply followed straight after. If he asked you for something, you would do your very best to make him proud of you.

“Promise me to take care of yourself. I would hate to watch you disappear because of me.” the sincerity assured you how important it was to him.

“Helmut, I don’t think I coul-“ he shushed you when he spotted what you were intending to do.

“Promise me, my love.” he repeated & you closed your eyes briefly, releasing another wave of tears.

“I promise.” your eyelids slowly opened & you could detect the relief in his at your words.

“How did you persuade them into visiting an inmate?” the atmosphere had shifted to a relaxing feel once again. And his attempt to start another conversation was welcomed.

“I didn’t do anything. Though I’ve tried multiple times…Sam came to my aid.” you chuckled at the memory & the excitement you emitted after his call. The news had been the best in a very long time.

“Ah, of course, if Captain America requests a visitation…” Helmut started.

“The chiefs are on board in an instant.” you finished his sentence & the both of you laughed at the tomfoolery.

“Means that Sam is the reason for your stay.” you confirmed his thought process quietly. “Please express my gratitude for him as well.”

“Will do.” you wanted to maintain the dialogue with him but a loud noise from behind you caught you by surprise. The same guard who had instructed your appropriate behavior inside these hallways was back. There was a look on his face you could not quite identify but it left you uneasy.

“Time’s over.” the statement felt like someone stabbed you with a knife. Not once, not twice. Multiple times to cause as much damage as possible. Helmut then stood up from the floor, gesturing for you to do the same. The moment you were on your feet again, your knees were close to giving out. Digging deep inside, you mustered all the strength you had left & fixed your posture. You did that to avoid radiating a fragile appearance. “Bid your goodbyes, I’ll wait by the door.” the guard took his place in the doorway, waiting for you to approach him. Your body faced Helmut’s & you rested both of your hands on the glass in front of you. He mimicked you & if it were not for the transparent border, you would have touched.

“I’ll miss you.” you whispered as you pressed your forehead against the boundary.

“I will miss you more.” he followed right after. “But you are always here with me.” one hand rested above his heart. Goodbyes were difficult. Especially with the ulterior motive of not returning the following day. It would most likely take a while until you would face him again. Secretly, so nobody could discern what you were doing, you pulled a small paper out of your pocket & pushed it through one of the many, tiny holes in the glass wall. It dropped to the floor on the other side. Helmut sent you a questioning glance which you retuned with a soft, gentle smile. Coughing behind you brought you back to reality. You had to leave. As much as it hurt, you turned your back to Helmut & distanced yourself from his cell. Arriving at the exit, you looked over shoulder one last time. One last time, your eyes locked. One last time, you let your tender features speak. One last time. While you walked away from him, he picked the small paper up from the ground. Unfolding it with much care, his eyes got stuck on three little words that were neatly curved in your handwriting. So when your eyes met, he returned that favor without anyone realizing it. His lips moved & you saw him mouthing that same phrase back. Your smile grew wider, as did his. And then you were gone. Of course, you would come back. And with Sam’s help, it would probably be sooner rather than later. He stared at the door where you just walked through. His gaze then turned to the paper in his hands. Never would he let go of it again. He would treat it like it was made out of gold. To him, it was. And it was worth so much more. The feeling it triggered inside of him could not be purchased. It could only be provided by a special someone. That special someone was you. Reading through the note one more time, he sat down on the uncomfortable mattress. The displeasure was ignored for now. For a minute, he bathed in the loving emotions you brought to him.

“I love you. -xo(Y/N)”

Published (05/09/2021) by Cathy

✨MY Ko-fi PAGE✨

Tags: @there-will-be-p-e-a-c-e, @simply-skeletons, @weareironmanbitches, @yallgotkik, @noavengers, @lieutenantn, @birdieofloxley, @aisling1985, @trelaney, @bibliophilewednesday, @msmarvelsmain, @takacsgram, @ya-boi-is-dead, @deamus-liv, @therenlover (thanks for your support <3)

[ragnarachael]

the valiant arsonist — worry

Pairing: Loki x TVA Agent!Reader

Word Count: 2,273

Summary: You're not sure what to do with the new found information Loki's given you, and you meet what seems to be a new hire.

Note(s): this is part two of WHO KNOWS HOW MANY also the gif has nothing to do with the content of my fic,,,, i just love watching it and watched it for like.. 5 mins before adding it on here. (also shoutout to @klargreeves for their loki post about how he’s the reason behind Julius Caesar getting stabbed!! it’s mentioned briefly in this piece!) 

file no. 1 file no. 2 (you are here)

"You're going to what?" You asked suddenly, panic starting to flood through your veins. Loki just stayed still, the smirk on his face still evident as the sunlight from the singular window beamed down onto his pale skin.

"You heard me, darling," he stated. "I don't believe it needs repeating."

You tried to form words, but every time you opened your mouth, shock took over and made you silent.

"Be sure to keep that mouth shut, pet, or I'll readily find another use for it," Loki quipped from his seat, his smirk only growing as you recoiled in disgust from his comment.

"Why would you be burning this place to the ground?"

"Is it not obvious? Your team has captured me. I would rather be out in the world continuing my personal vendetta and not continue to be locked up in this Hel you deem as your place of work." You blinked at the God as you started to slowly stand from your seat. "I thought your kind were smarter than this."

"Well," you started, stepping around your chair to push it back in how you found it as you tried to ignore the gravity of his reply. "We are."

Loki scoffed out a laugh that definitely shook you to your core. "Now that, I beg to differ, darling. Just because you are simply a researcher does not mean you're knowledgeable."

To say that his comment hurt you would be an understatement.

"Stop with the nicknames. Just—Just stop," you demanded weakly, taking in a shaking breath as you tried to stand up straight, squaring your shoulders again. "Is there anything else you have planned?"

"Like I would tell you," Loki replied easily, the smirk finally going away to be replaced with a venomous smile.

You sighed quietly and found your hands rubbing your face for a moment.

"This has been... enlightening," you finally began, forcing a kind smile at Loki. "Thank you for your response, Loki. We'll be in touch."

You turned to leave before you could even get a reply, twisting the doorknob and pressing against the door again once you were on the other side, feeling like you could finally, finally breathe clean air.

Loki was quick to get under your skin and make you even more anxious about speaking with him than you were to begin with. Maybe that's what he had as powers.

Maybe.

Or, perhaps he was just a huge prick from some kind of family of Gods.

Regardless, you had little time for recovery as you could hear the radio's the security guards used coming from the opposite end of the hall. So, you pulled yourself together and made it seem like you were checking on the guards to see that they were back from their break.

After giving a brief welcome back to the men you smiled and walked back into the sea of desks, easily navigating to your own before looking through your small stack of files to dig up your research.

Loki's voice was still echoing in your head.

I'm going to burn this place to the ground.

It still made you shudder, even thinking about the smirks and smiles he gave you when you two conversed. Frankly, you could feel the hair on your arms standing up just thinking about it.

This also made you realize that no one noticed where you had gone. It was suspicious for sure. Everyone who worked at the TVA knew who was doing what at all times.

Maybe you were actually sneaky enough.

You grabbed a pen and started to manually write down everything you could remember from your visit with Loki, ignoring the painful scratch of the pen tip against the paper as your writing speed picked up.

Once you had finished transcribing the conversation in your notes, it finally crossed your mind that you were right.

Loki is planning something. And your director didn't believe you.

You could tell her, but that was at the cost of admitting how you got that information...

Or, you could just sit back and watch what would happen while the rest of the group figured a plan of attack to get Loki to talk and admit to his actions.

Sighing, you closed your research files and started to reach for the file that held all of Loki's time disturbances, deciding that you should brush up on the information and not actually believe anything this man says.

He is a criminal, afterall.

The manila folder was thick. Thicker than you remembered from the first time you had discovered the slight disruptions in the multiverse, and you wouldn't be too shocked if there was another folder to accompany the first one.

Upon opening the folder, you saw what little profiling the TVA had on Loki. It was stapled to the left side of the cardstock, all printed in black and white ink. Your eyes drifted to the technical mugshot that was taken of Loki the day you caught him and could feel fear starting to bubble in your stomach.

He had that devious smile as he stared right into the camera. Next to the mugshot was the simple basic identification questions, but next to race, place of birth, family, and species there were question marks followed by unknown.

At least you knew that he could most certainly be a God.

After eyeing the rest of the document, you turned your direction to the stack of papers that were attached to the right side of the folder, looking at the neon green sticky note on the top.

"All known time disturbances for inmate 60383," you easily read aloud off the sticky note before lifting the sheet it was stuck on to see another sheet full of images and handwritten descriptions. "Oh my god.."

You don't know how the pictures were taken or even who took the pictures (let's be realistic, it was probably the Chronomonitors up stairs), but it looked like the Theatre of Pompeii.

From 44 BC.

Your mind made the connections immediately, noticing the Greek architecture and the pictures varying with men of all sorts stabbing another man.

It was the Ides of March. Well—March 15th. The day Julius Caesar was stabbed 23 times.

Loki was behind that assassination, because of course he was.

As you continued in his files, you found that he was actually behind a lot of mishaps in history.

Including but not limited to: causing the French Revolution in 1789, The assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand—also the assassination of Alexander The Great's father—and many, many more things that just so happened to change history in the universe.

It was giving you a headache, learning everything he's accomplished in such a short time. It's like mischief was his job.

"Wait a second," you mumbled to yourself, twisting in your office chair slightly to click around on your computer screen to open a search engine. Once you opened the first search engine your mouse could find, you typed in Norse Mythology and waited for the screen to load. Your computer was taking ages, which let you have your eyes wander on your desktop before catching the time in the upper right hand corner of your computer screen.

It was 12:30 in the afternoon.

Cursing quietly you were quick to get up from your seat, almost forgetting to close the loading window of your search as you grabbed your jacket that you tossed on the corner of your desk forever ago when you came in at 6 this morning.

"Okay, jacket, wallet—" you let your hand slip into your back pocket, feeling the plastic edge of Travis's I.D. as you pulled it out of the pocket. You've never been faster to shove something deep within the confines of a random desk drawer, cursing as you grabbed your car keys in rapid succession before practically flying through the sea of desks provided by the TVA officials.

The elevator was... calming. In a way. Smooth jazz playing on the speakers followed by occasional dings that signified what floor you were passing.

Until you were stopped on the 13th floor of the building, a man stepped in. He was tall, short dirty blond curls resting pristinely on his head. His hair actually looked to be borderline auburn thanks to the lighting in this metal deathtrap, you noted. You also noticed he was dressed up in an almost similar get up as you were that researchers were required to wear in the office.

The two of you gave awkward yet kind smiles to each other as he stepped in, hands in his jean pockets.

"Uh, what floor?" You asked softly, gesturing to the panel you were standing close to. The man glanced at the board.

"Same floor as you," he replied with the same tone.

He had an accent. A british accent. He reminded you of someone from Earth-199999, and you couldn't put your finger on it.

All you did was nod in reply before letting your hands go into your jacket pockets, redirecting your gaze to the elevator doors as the beeping started to continue as you passed floors.

After passing floor ten, you started to actually look closely at the man.

His jawline looked like it was structured by some higher power, and if you were to try and even touch you'd have cut something open. His stubble dusted over the sharp edges, though. It looked a lot softer than it might if he were clean shaven—which with the policies in the TVA, would be soon—and frankly, you'd like to see it.

It's almost like he looked like—

"Tom Hiddleston!" You exclaimed, finally making the connection in your brain.

"I beg your pardon?" The stranger asked, turning his head to look at you.

"Sorry, it's just," you started, laughing awkwardly, "you look a lot like this famous actor from Earth-199999. Tom Hiddleston."

"Oh," he started while shifting on his feet, seeming to step closer to you. "He's in that one show on Broadway, isn't he?"

"Yeah, uh, Betrayal I think it's called? I can't remember. It's been ages since I've looked at those files from that case forever ago."

There was a brief pause between the two of you before you took a breath and decided to introduce yourself, holding out your hand as you tried to relay your name without the awkward tone you still had in your voice.

The man smiled again and let one of his hand out of his pocket to shake your own. "Jonathan."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, not Tom Hiddleston—"

"Don't start that," Jonathan groaned playfully, the both of you sharing a laugh. "Are you part of Director Love's team?"

You nodded as you recovered from giggling in your corner of the elevator. "Yeah."

"She's really a piece of work."

"Yeah, but she gets her missions done," you replied easily, looking up at Jonathan. "Are you with Director Wilson?"

Jonathan looked confused for a moment before shaking his head, "no, no. Director Mills."

"Ah. Heard he's a tough guy."

"He's like the drill sergeant I've never had."

The two of you shared a laugh again before a comfortable silence took over the space. The jazz music seemed to have stopped playing now, which confused you slightly before Jonathan spoke up again.

"I don't mean to be rude or.. or break the rules, but what's your current mission about? Isn't it with that Loki guy?"

You hesitated for a moment. Why would you tell Jonathan anything about your mission? You've never seen him around before, let alone get told about him period. He seemed like a new hire. Newer than you.

That alone made you want to slam one of the buttons on the elevator wall so you could get off to avoid this whole topic.

And yet, you nodded, still under his curious gaze as you took a deep breath.

"Yeah. Inmate 60383. He's.. He's, well," you exhaled uneasily, letting out a weak laugh, "he's definitely something."

Jonathan didn't seem to like that answer enough.

"Something? What is that meant to mean?" He sounded like he was offended on Loki's behalf. You couldn't help the look you gave the man. It was a mix of confusion and offense.

"If you tried to interrogate him, you'd get it." You let out a sigh as you could feel the tension rise between the two of you, the elevator finally getting to the first floor of the building. The usual automated voice rung out in the metal box, announcing arrival to the first floor before the doors opened.

You were quick to get out, Jonathan following behind as he called your name. He probably noticed he struck a chord with his question.

Luckily, you were the only two in the main lobby of the TVA building as he kept trying to get your attention.

You grabbed the handle to the doors that led to the parking lot, turning around to look at Jonathan who seemed to look apologetic as he said your name one final time.

"I-I'm sorry for my comment. Really. I just want to know more about Inmate 60..."

"60383," you finished for him, part of you thinking you should be feeling skeptical about this whole situation.

"Yeah. 60383."

"Well," you started, letting your hand fall from the door handle, "I can't tell you anything, it's protocol. And I'd like to keep my job."

And with that, you threw open the main door to the building and walked out to the parking lot to head to your car and finally meet up with Travis for lunch.

[joenessalovesu]

A.T.L. - Part Two

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Prompt:  The past always finds a way of worming its way back into one’s life, no matter how far you’ve think you’ve run from it.  

Warning(s): Dark images that could be triggering for some.

_________________________

                         ~~~ Security Base Prison, Unknown ~~~

The halls contained minimal lights. Whoever lingered there could barely see their own hands, never mind ten feet in front of them, much less so the wall. Most have to feel around for a presence, or listen closely for anothers quiet breaths, just so they could navigate their way around.

And it was cold. Not enough to where one could get hypothermia, but just enough to make someone desire a warm blanket. If they were lucky, and if the guards were feeling particularly compassionate that day, they received a thin rag littered with holes as compensation. It was maybe adequate to stuff in one’s shoe, allowing at least their toes to stay warm for a few minutes.

After all, heat was heat, and if you were provided the luxury, you didn’t turn it down. This was knowledge all the residents possessed, either through their own experience or by learning the hard way, by fighting.

A few silhouettes are crouched down on the floor and huddled together, all murmuring indecipherably. Some of them were rubbing hands along their arms, while others seemed to have given up, as if their fate as already been decided for them, and leaned against the wall, their bodies limp. Only their eyes and lips moved.

At one of the entrances to the hallway, the door opens, causing below freezing temperatures and white powder to gust through. In marches two heavily armed guards. It should be noted that except for the mouths, their bodies were covered from head-to-toe in ice white clothing. It made the hallway glow brighter than it has in days, possibly even weeks.

“Sokolov!” one of them shouted, turning on an obnoxiously bright light in the process.

The silhouettes froze, looking directly into the light. Some shielded their eyes while others welcomed the blindness. Or, maybe, possibly, they saw it as a beacon of hope.

The huddled group began to moan and groan, a sense of desperation leaking through their body language.

“Shut it, you filthy pigs!” the other guard said, kicking one of them in the ribs. Except for painful groans, everyone grew quiet. “We’re only going to ask you all this once,” he continued, hoisting his rifle up and hugging it against his chest. His fingers danced along the handle and the trigger. He was ready for any misbehavior. “Have any of you seen Sokolov?”

They all looked amongst themselves and shrugged. 

“It’s impossible to really see anyone down here,” an older inmate commented. “But I heard rustling a little further down. That is either the one you seek, or a rat.” The inmate’s voice grew harsher with each word he spoke, making the tension rise dramatically.

The guards glanced at each other and nodded once before moving forward, taking away the sacred light. Placing the rifle in back in it’s holster, the guard began rummaging through his pockets and pulled out a glistening object. He held it up to his face and saw mirrored reflections of a young woman on the other side before it suddenly went black. Then, as if by magic, started again, only to end moments later. And repeat.

“Sokolov!” the guard with the light shouted, pointing it at the man sitting limp in the corner.  

Compared to the ones seen before, this man was a picture of health. He had a beard growing in, making him look scruffy and his cheeks still held some color. In fact, if it weren’t for the matted hair and horrendous odor, he would be considered rather handsome.

The man looked up at his new company, practically glaring. He remained silent, waiting for them to continue.

“Do you know her?” one of the guards asked, holding up the object.

The loop started over, unveiling the young woman once more. Sokolov studied her closely and instead of answering their question, he asked his own and, with what strength he had left, pointed at the object in his hand.

“Where’d you get that keychain?”

                   ~~~ Caesura Apartments, Brooklyn, New York ~~~

The sun shined through the windows, which made the apartment warm and inviting. Orange and yellow hues drew pictures with shadows, all the way from the tables in the living room to the simplistic kitchen across the way. Everything was in order here.

Everything was at peace.

And Libby often wondered how everything could change so drastically the moment one walks outside, or even into the hallway. The world was so much greyer than anybody wished to believe.

Libby sat herself on the pastel colored couch, the cushions welcoming her, as her eyes meandered around her surroundings. Pictures of other young adults, presumably around her age, covered the table. She studied their faces for a moment, their bright smiles speaking volumes. She wondered if she would ever experience joy, again.

“That’s Bethany and Anthony,” Ms. Benson announced as she entered the room with a tray full of tea and tiny sandwiches. “My daughter and son-in-law.”

“They look happy,” Lib said. “Where are they now?”

“Some little town in New Mexico. Clovis, I think,” the older woman spoke as she placed the tray down on the table.

“Clovis? Sounds like a truck stop,” the young woman commented, leaning forward to pick up her mug and a spoon.

Ms. Benson merely laughed, taking a seat on the flower chair across from Libby. “A lot of trucks drive through there, so in it’s own way, it is. But it’s got character.”

Libby’s smile grew and she brought the cup up to her lips and allowed the heat to coat her face. She breathed it in. 

Relaxing.

“Thank you, Ms. Benson, really.”

Ms. Benson, who now also had her own tea in hand, smiled. “Anything for a neighbor.”

The pair sat in silence. The once yellow and orange hues strictly turned orange before completely fading away into the night. Somewhere within that time, Ms. Benson fell asleep and almost dropped her mug. Fortunately, Libby’s capabilities expanded beyond the realm of small talk and caught the mug with ease.

She quietly placed it back on the tray, along with her own and walked it back to the kitchen.

“Don’t worry about cleaning, dear,” Ms. Benson called, followed shortly by some grunts and the pattering of feet.

“Let me do this one thing,” Libby begged as she turned on the faucet and grabbed the sponge and soap. “You’ve done so much for me already.”

Ms. Benson confiscated the items and said, “If that’s the case, go meet the new neighbor. I think I heard some shuffling out in the hall, maybe he could use some help.”

“Doubt it. Seems like a the quiet, brooding type,” Libby stated, leaning against the counter. “I feel like I’ve seen him before, too.”

“Ahh, so you’ve met him?”

“More like seen.”

Ms. Benson gave a quizzical look, stopping mid-scrub to do so.

“I may have looked on while Candy was giving her spiel,” Libby added, rolling her eyes in the process.

Ms. Benson smirked. “I don’t trust that Candy. Something seems off,” she said as she finished up most of her dishes.

“I’m glad it’s not just me.”

                              ~~~ Avengers Base, New York ~~~

Natasha sat in her room for most of the day, rummaging through her belongings. As day turned into night, she was about to give up when, suddenly, she remembered a secret hideout of hers and her comrade; a place where they shared tears of joy and sorrow. A place where they kept their most private items, in fear their teammates or fellow agents would judge them for it.

She opened the door to her room and peered around it, looking to see if anyone loitered the hallway. Deciding that the coast was clear, she ventured out towards the end near a window and opened it with ease. She climbed her way through and up to the rooftop.

Agent Romanoff went over to a piece of metal that stuck out and pried it up, unveiling a box covered in dust and lord knows what else. Bending down, she carefully picked it up and blew off the loose dirt before opening it.

The item she was seeking sat on top.

It was a picture of three agents. One was herself, while the other two were a young woman and a handsome man. Both of whom she was close with and both of whom she loved dearly.

“I’ll find you guys,” she whispered, bringing the picture up to her lips and gently kissed it.

“Find who?” a booming voice that belonged to none other than Captain America himself asked. He stepped up towards her and held his hand out, seeing if she’s willing to share some of her most private thoughts.

“I know what I saw, Steve,” she said, holding the picture against her chest as both of her hands covered it.

“Okay,” he said, gently. “I believe you.”

“Will you help me?”

“Of course.”

                    ~~~ Caesura Apartments, Brooklyn, New York ~~~

Making her way out into the hallway, Libby quietly closed the door behind her in an effort to not wake up Ms. Benson or the apartment building’s other inhabitants. As she turned around, she came face-to-face with the new, rather muscular neighbor. He held a couple of boxes in his hands as the two stared at each other, both assessing the other.

Lib tucked her hands in her pockets and stayed tucked away against the wall. “Hi,” she said, still looking the stranger up and down.

He simply only raised an eyebrow, as if to question her.

“I’m Libby,” she said in an attempt to break the silence. “What’s your name?”

Silence.

“Do you need any help?”

Silence.

“Okay, well,” she said, grabbing her key from her pocket and made her way to her own door. “I’m across the hall if you need anything. Next door to me is Ms. Benson. She’d gladly help, too, you just can’t be afraid to ask.”

Unlocking and opening the door, she bid farewell and made her way inside. She took a moment to close it, seeing if he’ll change his mind about speaking. When he entered his own apartment, she sighed and closed it.

She walked over to the table in the hallway and opened the drawer, peering inside to see if that keychain was still there. When she saw it was, she picked it up and ran her fingers along the edges. It was smooth, the metal quickly warming up underneath her fingers.

“Some things never change,” she whispered.

Suddenly, something slid from under the door and across the wood flooring. It was a folded piece of paper.

Wearily, she put the keychain back inside the drawer and shut it. Lib stepped up towards the paper and bent down to pick it up. Her fingers ran over the smooth material as she unfolded it carefully.

“The name’s James, you can call me Bucky.”

“Bucky,” she whispered, smiling. “I like it.”

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

Tagged List: @sebstanwassup

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed part two! Feedback is always appreciated.

[liliallowed]

oh how the turns table.

[liliallowed]

a completion of blushing inmate dust.

[liliallowed]

inmate au shipping

they fight very often 😔

a lil suggestive. nothing visual tho lol

y/n is just doing their job. leave them alone.

... technically the job is doing th-

*gets shot*

[liliallowed]

inmate fic