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writersdrug · 6 months ago

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no thoughts just waitress!reader showing up for shifts like nothings wrong after the date situation

just keeping it calm and professional. working her shifts efficiently and no longer bantering/flirting with ghost, who would rather reader melt down and tear into him than putting up the walls around herself hehe

Ok I'm combining some asks here that had some different ideas - I got so many of you guys demanding reparation for making reader cry 😭 here's the comfort chapter! (Still a tad angsty at the beginning)

Ghost had finished your tips for you that night. He had half a mind to slide a hundred in your payout folder as an apology for ruining your date... but what good would that do? That would make you quit for good, if you hadn't already.

He lays in his bed, eyes stuck to the ceiling, still in his jeans and black shirt. He wishes he could snuff out the guilt that sits heavily in his gut. He wonders what you're doing - probably crying, possibly making a half-assed voodoo doll of himself and stabbing his chest with a dull steak knife, because that's all he feels right now.

He gets up early the next day after a rough three hours of sleep. He lumbers down the stairs to the office - Price is there, sorting out cash and working on the next supply order. He looks at Simon, who's rubbing his eyes and looking worse for wear.

"Mornin'." Price says, turning back to the monitor. Ghost grunts in response, dropping himself onto the couch behind Price. His head aches from the lack of sleep, thoughts circling in his mind about how to apologize to you. He can imagine you won't want to talk to him - or, if you do, it'll most likely be profanities wedged between insults. He'd love for you to berate him right now, and make him feel like he got what he deserved.

Price sighs. "You sleep alright?"

"I've had better."

"Nightmare?"

"... yea, somethin' like that."

Price huffs. "I'm workin' front of house today." He says, grabbing the bag of tips and standing up. "Goin' down to drop these in the safe, then I'll help you stock up."

Simon opens his eyes, looking at Price with confusion. "You?"

Price nods. "Dove called out sick. Sounded like she's got the lurgy."

That delivers the final blow to Simon. He knows you're not sick - you're avoiding him now. All plans to apologize are now out the window, and the more time passes, the harder it'll be to do it.

"You've only got yourself to blame, Simon." Price says, heading down to the restaurant floor.

He curses under his breath as Price leaves. How he heard about what happened - he could only assume it had been from Soap. He drops his arm over his face and groans. He wants to call out himself, but then they might as well shut down the entire pub for the day.

Should he try phoning you? Would you answer, let alone allow him to get more than five words out? What would he say? "Sorry I ruined your date, I was jealous tha' ya got a life outside of the pub." There is no variation of an apology that feels like it would be enough. He made you cry, for fucks sake. That was a punishment in and of itself, but he still had to own up to what he'd done.

He sighs loudly; his body feels heavy as he drags himself off the couch, trudging down the stairs. He still has a bar to run.

It had to have been the longest shift of Simon's life, and he even wrapped things up a bit earlier than usual. He didn't have the gift of your incessant chatting or being able to tease you to make the time pass. Price was a solid companion in front of house, but there was hardly a conversation to be held - even with the usual bar crowd. The patrons had a look of confusion for the majority of the night, wondering why Soap wasn't popping his head out of the kitchen to chat every once in a while - and why the hell the owner was serving tables, and not the chipper, spunky waitress.

When Simon had locked up for the night, he noticed your bike was no longer in the alley. Johnny must have dropped it off on the way back to his place.

Today isn't much different - at least, not for Simon. He's still suffering from a lack of sleep, he's irritable (he had a spat with Johnny in the morning, over something he can't even remember), and his work ethic is suffering. He's not worried about slicing bar fruit; it'll give him something to do later, when he needs it. Maybe the rush will kick him back into shape.

He stares at the dishes on the edge of the bar - they're all in need of a good polish, but he finds himself stuck on staring at the bar fridge. There's nothing else he needs to stock up on - it's packed completely full with wine, champagne, and cans of beer. He gently kicks the side of it with his boot. He should be checking the to-go boxes, helping Soap with setting up the condiments and soups, making sure the tables all had full salt and pepper shakers. That's what you would be doing. But, you're not here, and neither is Price. He can only hope tonight isn't as busy as the previous night, otherwise he'll have to close some tables. Which would make customers mad. Which would make Price mad. Which would-

Suddenly, he hears three loud bangs against the back door. He freezes, the sound triggering a Pavlovian response. He immediately looks up to the kitchen window - Soap opens the door, and you come jogging inside. You greet him with a smile. He asks how you're feeling, and you say "much better".

He doesn't know what to do with himself, but he just stands there like an idiot as you hang your bag and jacket on a hook. Stands there as you push your way into the restaurant, barely sparing him a glance as you scurry by him. Stands there as you run up the stairs, two at a time, diving nose-first into your chores so you can avoid Simon.

He can't speak. Should he? What can he say? "I'm sorry," for starters, but it isn't that simple. He thought you might have quit, and was preparing his heart for the worst. But now, here you are, running back and forth through the pub and setting up your tables - and it feels like you've never been farther away from him.

In all honesty, you can't bring yourself to talk to him either. You're feeling just as ashamed with your behavior two nights ago as he is about his own. Why the fuck would you expect someone - let alone your boss - to do your chores so that you could run off and have fun on a date? Not only that, but you'd made a scene; you felt like you had half-assed the ice bins in your scramble to get them cleaned, and then you sobbed in the middle of the restaurant. The cherry on top, however, was when you called Price yesterday and told him you had a cold, calling out of your shift. It was a cowardly thing to do, and you could tell he wasn't buying your story.

But: bills need to be paid, rent is due, and you can't lose this job. So you sucked it up and came in today - Simon is easy enough to ignore, separated from you by the bar.

At first, the quiet bartender was relieved that you had showed up for your shift - he wouldn't have searched for a new waitress if you had quit, instead choosing to deal with the consequences of his actions. But he's quickly getting more and more irritated with the silent treatment you're serving. You only talk to him when necessary: a simple "thanks" when you grab your drinks and run them to your tables. You busy yourself between rolling silverware, (over)stocking napkins and condiments, and even going so far as to spray the menus down and scrub them with a rag. You spend more time in the kitchen with Soap; each peal of laughter shared between the two of you is another arrow in Simon's chest. He's stuck behind the bar, listening to woes spilling from drunken lips, forced to watch you flit around and pretend he doesn't exist.

You can't keep this up forever.

Still, you do for most of the night. Even when your shift is coming to an end, the kitchen closed while you close the tabs for your remaining tables, you don't cave and sit at the bar with Simon. You sit at the farthest table from him, the farthest chair, in fact, skimming over your tip receipts - and talking to Soap (who was only able to sit with you since you had helped him knock out his tasks).

Simon's never been as angry with Soap as he is now - and the worst part is he knows it's not justified. He's watching from behind the bar, polishing glasses so hard they might wane into cups. He wants to talk to you. He will talk to you before the night is over. He doesn't expect forgiveness, but he expects that you'll at least let him offer an apology.

One of the regulars at the bar looks to whatever Simon is glaring at, chuckling quietly when he sees you. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Stuff it, Mike." Simon grumbles.

Meanwhile, you walk back from closing out your last table, plopping back in the booth with Soap. "What are you doing after this?"

"Sleepin'." he replies instantly, tossing back an onion ring. "Been dealin' with a grumpy bawbag since early this mornin', and I'm beat."

You glance over at the bar; Simon's back is facing you as he organizes the beer glasses. You really should apologize to him... you just couldn't figure out when the right time would be. He'd still be working by the time your shift ends, and you don't even know if he wants to speak to you at this point.

"Is he mad at me?" you ask, tapping your pen on the table.

Soap sighs. "I'm not goin' t' be the middle man, Bonnie." he says, looking at you intently. "If ye feel like somethin' needs to be said, go talk to 'im."

You groan, leaning back against the seat. "It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"It just isn't! He's already pissed at me, and he probably thinks I'm a slacker. What good is an apology?"

"Ye won't know 'til ye talk to 'im, hmm?"

"What if he fires me?"

Johnny barks with laughter, and you frown. "I'm being serious."

"He'd never fire ye." he says, getting up out of the booth. He stretches both arms above his head and lets out a grunt. "In fact, he was throwin' a fit yesterday n' today 'fore ye came in. Bitch took it out on me."

You winced. "I'm sorry-"

"Save it fer 'im." Soap interjected. He left you at the booth with the onion rings and your tips, disappearing into the kitchen. You huff, hunching back over your tips and scribbling through them.

Deep down, you know Soap is right. If anything, you could just apologize to Simon. If he chooses to be grumpy about it, so be it. You've got tough skin... still, you can't stand the thought of him being upset with you - not because of your work ethic, but because you liked him. A lot. And you wanted him to like you back, even if it was in the most platonic way.

But that didn't change anything. An apology was due, and you were going to give him one before you left tonight.

You grabbed an onion ring and popped it in your mouth, grimacing when you realized they were cold. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Simon making his was across the floor to your booth.

Great. Guess the apology is coming now.

He stops at the edge of the table, wiping his hands in a rag. You pretend to punch numbers into your phone's calculator, but they're all random - you just want to look like you're busy.

"May I sit?" he asks, tucking the rag into his back pocket.

You mumble out a "sure", still not looking at him. You hear his large frame slide into the seat across from you, polyester squeaking underneath his weight. You continue to do random equations on your calculator, letting a thick blanket of tension settle between the two of you. You can feel his stare burning into your head, his arms folded over his chest... and you notice that his mask is in his hand. You finally look up at him.

It's not the first time you've seen his face - you've caught glimpses of it when he smokes in the alley, or when he eats whatever Soap throws under the warmer for you and Simon. But this time, he's not taking it off to be convenient. And, dear god, you're just now paying attention to how scarred, rugged, and handsome he is - but now's not the time for those kinds of thoughts. You feel like he's reaching out an olive branch, showing a possible vulnerable side to himself. So, you place your pen on the table and lean back.

He stays quiet for a moment longer, trying to figure out how to start this. He wants to make sure that you know he's here to apologize, not to ask for forgiveness. From his silence, you assume he's waiting for you to go first.

"I'm sorry about Tuesday night." you say, eyes dropping to the table. Simon's astounded that you're the one apologizing, but you continue. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, and I'm sorry for trying to dump my job on you."

He feels worse, now. Was that even possible? He was expecting anger, insults - a detailed, frustrated explanation of what you did last night since you did not go on that date. But you're the one saying sorry? You think you're to blame for all of this unspoken aggression? Oh, you really do confuse him, sometimes...

"You don't need t' be sorry, luv." he says, gazing at you with a softness you'd never seen before, not in his brown eyes, at least.

"No, I do." you say, nearly pleading with him to let you be apologetic. "I was being a brat, and whether you usually do the ice bins or not, I shouldn't have expected you would do them without asking." You push your pen on the table, doing your best to convey your feelings. "And yeah, I was late for my date, but... well, he sounded like a dick, anyways."

Simon chuckles, watching you stare at the table. "Well, I owe you an apology, too. I jus'..." he sighed heavily, running a hand down his jaw. "I don' even know. Guess I was bein' lazy, or... I got jealous tha' you've got a life outside of this pub. Feels like you belong here."

He immediately regrets saying that - it sounds way too possessive and... just straight up weird. But you smile, taking comfort in the fact that he still wants you here. That this was the whole reason behind the mess.

"Soap called you a bitch. Said you were an asshole all day."

Simon scoffs. "Yea... 'm pretty sure Price would tell ya the same. And he wants ya back, too. Couldn't stand waitin' on tables, he was tryin' t' trade places with me all night."

You laugh. The world seems alright again - not perfect, but good enough. It might take a night of sleeping the tension away before you're fully back to your normal self, but this is a leap in the right direction. You look at Simon, into his brown, steady eyes, as they stare right back at you.

He breaks the silence. "I really am sorry for ruinin' your date."

You smile softly. "Thank you, Simon. I forgive you."

And just like that, the weight of his guilt is lifted away. The lingering sourness remains, a reminder that he had made you cry. But you had forgiven him, which was more than he was hoping to get tonight.

"Are we better?" you ask timidly.

He nods once. "Better."

You smile - you slowly slide your stack of receipts to him, biting your lip. "Cool - can I have my money?"

Just like that, his smirk drops - but you know it's all in good humor. He huffs, snatching the stack from the table and scoots his way out of the booth. "Always got money on the mind, eh?"

"I've always got rent on my mind." you retort, following after him with the bowl of onion rings. You plant yourself at your usual spot on the end of the bar, right near the POS where Simon cashes out your tips. He tries to hurry up, assuming you want to dip and go home after such an intense conversation. He slides the mask back over his face and punches his code in, trying to edit your tips into the system as quickly as he can.

"Simon?"

"Hm?" his response is instant, turning around to look back at you. You've got your phone on the bartop, and your back and jacket on the unoccupied seat next to you.

"Can I stay for a drink?"

He's melting on the inside, only held together by his own skin. He sets your receipts down and opts to do them later, right before whenever you decide to leave. He won't miss on an opportunity to have you stay longer.

"Course, luv. What's it gonna be?"

"You know how to make a cosmo?"

He chuckles, grabbing a glass from the shelf behind him. "Sure do."

#bartender ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost cod #cod x reader #call of duty

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ladystoneboobs · 7 months ago

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so, one aspect of catelyn which i think is underrated (certainly the biggest adaptation loss which nobody talks about) is her, let's say superstitiousness, or better yet, let's call it genre-savviness, being one of the few adult characters open to magic and the supernatural in this fantasy world. we first meet her in the godswood, home of gods which are not truly hers, yet she is still very aware of their power. when she and ned talk of the deserter he killed, he hopes he won't have to go with the nw to deal with mance rayder, but she has even more fear of that idea bc there are worse things beyond the wall than just wildlings. ned scoffs and says she's been listening to old nan too much, but she's right. we already know from the prologue that she's right! and here she is, understanding the genre of their world better than her husband, who was actually born and spent his earliest years in this northern land of deep magic, listening to old nan's stories. same with the direwolves, where she was uncomfortable with them at first, but later believed in them as guardians from the old gods even after robb had lost his own faith. and once again, we know she's right even if she doesn't know the evidence to back up her instincts, bc summer and shaggydog did not fail bran and rickon and robb was almost certainly a warg like his brothers. (perhaps making it more fitting that she's the one brought back as a fantasy vengeance monster, not ned and robb, the most unbelieving dead starks.) and in her 2nd agot chapter, everyone focuses on her ambition in wanting ned to agree to the hand job (pun intended) and sansa's betrothal, and while she does recognize the value of their daughter being a future queen more than ned does, that's only her stated argument bc she thinks it's rational enough for ned to listen to. (if ambitious matchmaking were as important to her as to her father she never would have made those frey betrothals fandom loves to blame her for.) in her own head there's a deeper urge driving her. she keeps thinking of the dead direwolf with antlers in its throat, an omen which filled her with dread from the first she heard of it, before robert's arrival, and thinking of it again is what makes her desperate to convince ned not to refuse robert. she had to make him see. and really, she's not wrong, as jon snow would say. the dead direwolf was an omen of ned and robert getting each other killed. it's just one of those misread portents, with no way of knowing the danger to ned was in his loyalty to robert, not conflict with him. BUT the next time she's dealing with baratheons, she knows exactly what she's talking about. it's catelyn, not brienne, who sees the shadow slaying renly, and explains that it was stannis who did that through some dark magic. with no way of knowing how it was achieved and no prior expectation that such a thing were ever possible, she realizes with no hestitation that stannis was guilty and that his red witch was capable of pulling this off somehow. really, the only instinct of the supernatural she's wholly wrong about is her insistence that varys gathered his knowledge through some dark enchantment. however, though that might offend varys, given his own personal experience with a sorcerer, i'd say it's a reasonable assumption without knowing the dude had children moving through walls everywhere like oversized rodents. and imo it just shows she had a healthy respect and awe for varys's power which most other characters lack.

oh, oh, and let's not forget that she also believed in the curse of harrenhal, from her own childhood and the stories old nan told her kids. "and every house that held Harrenhal since had come to misfortune. Strong it might be, but it was a dark place, and cursed. 'I would not have Robb fight a battle in the shadow of that keep,' Catelyn admitted." sure, that wasn't enough to save robb, but he did not die from the curse of harrenhal. that doom was meant for his enemies from tywin lannister to roose bolton.

#valyrianscrolls #asoiaf #asoiaf meta #catelyn stark #catelyn tully #this why i can't w talking abt how much better the northerners are for their supernatural setting #when w the exception of the crannogmen most of them understand their setting less than their southron 7-following lady of wf #people of the riverlands can follow useless gods and still not lose their belief in magic #and people who think it would have been cooler if robbwind or even ned took lsh's place are not just missing the point bc grrm #focused on catelyn as pov for a reason but bc thematically all the gods knew who was actually open to their power #everyone else was only interested in that stupid outline for starkcest shipping but i was most intrigued by cat going beyond the wall #happy tully tuesday!#(c)lsb

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rafesangelita · 5 months ago

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Pouge!Sweetheart!Reader and Rafe request! Rafe gets carried away in bed with dirty talk, saying degrading mean stuff about her being a pouge, because he is really horny and she gets a bit taken back because she doesn’t know if he truly feels that way about her and he can tell she is a bit standoffish and down after and he doesn't know what he has done :(

warnings: unprotected sex, degradation, light fluff, a little bit of angst, rafe feels rlly bad :(

both you and rafe managed to surprise each other when you two proposed new ideas to spice up your sex life. choking, overstimulation, roleplay, degradation, to name a few. while rafe reassured you that he loved how vanilla you two were in bed, you wanted to be everything and more for him, your own mind a little curious to see where he takes things. the first time rafe decided to rough things up a bit, it brought new sides out of both of you, and you equally loved it. however, you didn’t know how to feel about degradation this time around.

“oh, my- please don’t stop rafe!” you cried out, the band in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment, your boyfriend’s hips pistoning in and out of you at an unforgiving speed. “so fucking needy, huh? always wanting more like the fucking pogue you are?” his words made you blink, unsure of what he meant by that. you still moaned, his length pressing that spot inside of you that made you tremble. rafe leaned down, taking your lips in a kiss. “you’re so fucking sexy, who woulda’ thought a pogue had it like this?”

there he goes again. this time when he kissed you, you didn’t move your lips, your mind simply somewhere else. eventually rafe finished, his arms caging you in as he cursed against your skin. thankfully he didn’t pay too much attention to your face, instead he pulled you against his chest and spooned you as he whispered sweet nothings in the curve of your neck. he intertwined your fingers, rubbing your back soothingly until you fell asleep.

the next day you woke up early, still feeling off from last night. while rafe was snoring softly, you managed to slip out of his arms, taking it upon yourself to get ready and go out to get breakfast. apart of you felt bad for going out without him, and quite literally leaving your camper without a word, but you needed some space to clear your head. soon enough, your cell was ringing off the hook with calls and voicemails from rafe. when you got back home, rafe was sitting on the little steps outside, his knee bouncing as he chewed on his thumb.

“where were you?!” rafe looked confused as you walked past him and inside. “i got breakfast.” you shrugged, your voice barely above a whisper. “breakfast?” he watched you take a seat on your little couch, his hands on his hips as he stared down at you. rafe didn’t know what to think, as far as he knew he thought everything was fine, great even, between you two. “what’s wrong?” he sat down, immediately picking up on the way you avoided his gaze. “hey, talk to me, tell me what i did, baby.” he grabbed your chin.

you looked up at him, concern written all over his face. “last night,” you started, “..you said some things that bothered me.” you swallowed thickly. rafe shut his eyes momentarily. “i was a little thrown off when you mentioned the whole ‘pogue’ thing.” you watched as the realization dawned on him, a groan leaving his lips as he rested his head in his hands. “fuck,” he cursed, “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean anything i said, y/n. i wasn’t thinking straight.” he shook his head. you sighed, placing your arms around him.

“even the part where you said i was sexy?” rafe paused, a laugh tumbling from his mouth as he turned his eyes on you. you were too sweet for your own good. “no, i definitely meant that.” he clarified, resting his forehead on yours. “i’m so sorry if i made you feel bad, that was never my intention.” he hugged you, pulling you onto his lap. you studied his face, knowing he was genuine. “i know you are. it’s okay.” you pecked his lips. “how about this,” he took your hand, “instead of us trying to make things ‘rougher’ why don’t we try softer? praise instead of degradation?”

you smiled, nodding at him while he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “..i can’t believe you got breakfast without me.”

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rafeysbunny · 4 days ago

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rafe fucking maybank!reader

being with rafe cameron is a mistake —one you keep making over and over again, despite knowing better. you both fight, you push him away, you tell yourself you’re done with him… and yet, every time, you come crawling right back. and rafe? he fucking lives for it.

he’s mean, rough, possessive. he fucks you like he hates you, like he’s trying to break you. and in some way, maybe he is, because nothing in this world gets him harder than seeing jj maybank’s precious little sister falling apart beneath him, whimpering and completely soaked for the one guy she shouldn’t want.

he loves making you beg, loves reminding you who owns you, and no matter how much you fight it, no matter how wrong it is, you love it too.

his truck smells like sweat and sex, the windows fogged up as rafe pounds your sloppy cunt from behind like he owns it. one of his hands is in your pretty head, pushing it down onto the leather seat to make you arch your back for him, while the other is holding your wrists bruisingly tight at the bottom of your spine —yanking you back onto him, forcing you to take his cock deeper.

"god, you’re such a fuckin' mess," rafe groans, relishing in the way you’re dripping down his dick from all the times he's made you cum already, ruining his seats. "soakin' me like a desperate little whore."

he’s so mean, spitting filth that makes your insides tighten, your walls clench around him harder. every cruel word that falls from his lips has you growing wetter, despite the shame churning in your stomach. and he swears he could cum just from the way your greedy pussy is squeezing him, like it doesn't want to let go.

"this what you wanted, huh? my dumb little slut needed to get fucked stupid?" he mocks, lips curling into a dark smirk when he hears you moan in response.

every time his hips snap forward, he hits so deep you swear you might break, the fat tip of his cock almost brushing your cervix and making you literally shudder beneath him.

"rafe–" you whimper, big tears running down your flushed cheeks.

"fuck, baby, you cryin' f'me?" he groans, wiping those tears away, "god, you look so damn beautiful when you cry."

but you cannot say anything in response, pretty eyes rolling to the back of your head as he keeps bullying your g-spot, and that makes him chuckle, large hand fisting your soft hair to yank you back against his hard chest, which causes your scalp to sting.

"so fuckin' pathetic, aren’t ya'? can’t even think, can’t do anything but let me use you," he whispers in your ear, his voice teasing —petty.

his other hand slips between your thighs, rubbing slow circles that have you crying out from how good it feels, little clit throbbing under his rough finger pads.

"look at you. so fuckin' sensitive..." he purrs, and he sounds really fucking pleased with himself for what he's doing to you. "gonna cum again f'me, princess?”

you try to shake your head no in response, try to beg for a break and squirm away from him —overstimulated, but rafe doesn't let you, gripping your throat to keep you in place.

"yeah, you fuckin' will." you can almost hear the smug smirk in his words.

you cry out, overwhelmed, but you don’t tell him to stop because you don't really want him to. your lewd moans break into something closer to sobs, and your fingers clutch desperately at the leather seats while he thrusts into your poor, sensitive cunt, pushing you closer and closer to another orgasm.

and when you finally fall over the edge, pleasure crashes over you so violently that it knocks the air from your lungs and makes your whole body tremble like a leaf while you scream against the seat, leaving you nothing but a shaking, incoherent mess beneath him.

rafe is right after you. he cums hard, dick twitching inside your hot, spasming cunt, which is fucking strangling him —the feeling so good that it has him trembling as he curses and moans out loud. wanting to draw out the pleasure all he can, he keeps fucking you through it, thrusts uneven and sloppy, until he's collapsing on top of you, completely spent.

for a moment, all you can do is lie there, face pressed against the leather seat, body still twitching with the aftershocks and mind fully blank. rafe doesn’t move right away either, his weight heavy on top of you, one hand smoothing over your back in slow, lazy strokes.

then, he pulls back, withdrawing his softening cock from your pussy with a grunt. he slaps your ass gently, watching with pure satisfaction in his blue eyes how his cum oozes out of you, and you can't help the little moan that follows.

“god, you look so fuckin' pretty like this. all used up. just f'me...” his fingers would definitely fuck his cum back inside you, not giving a shit that you're squirming and whining from overstimulation. "my good fuckin' girl."

more.

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daylighted · 28 days ago

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ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤBABY ! READER.

meet baby . . . again, because she's not someone that you should be unfamiliar with, if you know the winchester boys ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ a hunt gone wrong leaves dean without a car, and a personified version if it in its place ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ resilient and reliable, loyal and loving, baby is more than happy with the shift in dynamic ㅤ — ㅤ so long as it keeps her alongside her favorite person in the world, dean.

LEATHER & LACE !! baby arrived into human society in nothing but a worn, faded black leather jacket and a pair of lacy panties, prompting shell-shocked dean to fork over his jeans in efforts to preserve the modesty that she could not care less about. the black jacket is the human translation of dean's car's black coat of paint, and the panties have no explanation beyond dean's petty-driven theory of a final nail in the coffin of the witch's curse.

NOT CALLED BABY FOR NOTHIN' !! the name was given to baby, first, as a show of affection and appreciation that dean had for the car he inherited. now that said car was a girl with her own identity, dean has stuck to calling her such due to her innocence when it came to existing as a human being. and, though he'd never admit it, the affection he felt lingered tenfold now that he'd come to terms with her existence.

BIRTHMARKS !! baby has two "birthmarks," or scarification marks that came with her shift from car to girl. pale skin knits together neatly in the form of two scratchy initial signatures over each clavicle: D.W. and S.W. dean's, on her left side, directly over the beat of her heart, and sam's, on the right, never far behind when it came to being at dean's side. it is not known for a fact if either winchester knows of the existence of these marks; though it's highly likely they know of some sort of mark existing there, with how often baby tends to casually undress.

LISTEN TO HER PURR !! of all things that the winchesters have encountered, a car turned girl is not a repeat offense that they've witnessed. every day, something new is uncovered about baby; how she reacts to things, how much fire one girl's mouth can spit, how many memories translated into her head from the leather of the seats. there is not often a moment of silence or peace, not with baby around, though the lapse from routine is a welcome one, with how hard the job they do can be at times.

SO THIS IS LOVE !! it is without a doubt that baby came into existence with a predetermined love and devotion to dean. whether it is another jab from the witch's curse, attempting to poke a thorn into the soft press of dean's side, or if the bond between a man and his first love, his car, exists as true thing. dean chooses to not think about either option, simply wanting to believe that baby picks him everytime on her own free will. he does not, in fact, think about why he wants her to be consenting and aware in her devotion, either.

POCKETFUL OF SUNSHINE !! it is unknown if any special abilities or powers came in baby's human form, as the car information booklet that'd been collecting dust in her glovebox was now lost to the void. however, it is known that the leather jacket she came to fruition in seems to have bottomless pockets, holding things lost with time and forgotten, like sam's old toy soldiers, or a stuffie, wedged so deep under the seat for so long that neither of the winchesters remember it existing. perhaps the updated '67 chevy impala instruction manual is lost in the depths of those pockets, too.

—ㅤㅤㅤFOLLOW THE MAP !! ㅤ ๋࣭ ㅤ ⭑ ㅤ ⋆ ㅤ ⭒ ㅤ ˚ ㅤ ｡ ㅤ ⋆

. . . or, the chronological timeline of baby!reader. full map, including pitstops, unraveled here ㅤ — ㅤdiscuss baby!reader nation here !! official join the roadtrip post coming soon.

live out your baby!reader dreams in the interactive version, only found on c.ai.

01. how baby!reader came to be. 02. someone's gotta tell sam. 03. he cuddled with her anyways. 04. the girl behind the wheel. 05. baby's first case! 06. not off the hook. 07. learning about reading and feelings with sam winchester. 08. baby does not, in fact, know how to drive.

—ㅤㅤㅤPITSTOPS !! ㅤ ๋࣭ ㅤ ⭑ ㅤ ⋆ ㅤ ⭒ ㅤ ˚ ㅤ ｡ ㅤ ⋆

. . . or, the pinnacles of thoughts and headcanons about baby!reader. join the discussion in the link above !!

ㅤㅤㅤ✇ baby does not take shit from no man! + sweet dean stuff or whatev ㅤㅤㅤ✇ baby's thoughts on castiel. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ the one where baby calls dean on his shit. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ kiss it better! ㅤㅤㅤ✇ mary's revival. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ social anxiety HATES her! ㅤㅤㅤ✇ meet matilda, the witch who started it all. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ baby learns her abcs. sam is sick of the alphabet. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ dean is NOT raising a beige baby. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ how the lovebirds fall into love. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ baby beefs with someone's big black jacked up truck. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ loving each other & all their broken pieces. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ coping mechanisms.

notes. this took me 5k years and cost me my left leg. if it takes me 619238499 years to update this / keep it updated... mind ur business i have only one leg now and 5k less years to my lifespan </3 u can find all other discussion related stuff not listed here + all of this in the baby!reader tag on my blog <3 on the chance that i start slacking on keeping this up to date.

layout inspired by my pookie twin @deansbeer <3 !!! seriously don't know how u did this still bc my GOD.

tags. @titsout4jackles @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @theosaurous @stereotypicalbarbie @whyyouegg @eepwtf @rositaslabyrinth @rubyvhs @abox-of-rocks @sunsbaby @bluemerakis @jollyhunter @misatxox @angelblqde @bombarda-babe @unfortunate-brat @funkycoloured @chevroletdean @chiierful @cowboysandcigarettes @voidsuites @bitchykittenconnoisseur @beausling @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @hyacinnths @blushpinkdoll @mccartneyqp @svbnra + all of the rest of baby!reader nation if u needed a central hub to catch up LMFAO.

#dahlia's ☆ journal #baby!reader #dean winchester x baby!reader #sam winchester x baby!reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #jensen ackles #jensen fucking ackles #jared padalecki #jared fucking padalecki #supernatural #spn #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #sam winchester x you

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glasvera · 2 months ago

Text

Stoicism and Gratuity

Winter Soldier x Fem!Reader x The Punisher

Description: You're always healing them so that they can let loose on the battlefield. Now it's your turn to let them do the work.

Warnings/Disclaimers: SMUT (18+ only, Minors DNI!!!!), cursing, clothed sex, minor mentions of alcohol, Bucky's arm tentacles, choking, spanking, rough sex, threesome, double penetration, vaginal sex, anal sex, light bondage??? if you count the tentacles?, Frank's kind of an ass but means well, one (1) terrible pun

A/N: Fulfilling a request for Bucky or Frank wasn't something I ever thought I'd do, but my interest was piqued and I decided to give it a shot. And then it turned into a light novel. Also... gods it feels SO weird calling him Frank.

Word Count: 5k

When Frank and Bucky invited you over, you thought it was just a casual meet up between colleagues, no, friends to enjoy what little downtime you had between missions. Order some take out, maybe drink a few beers… you know the drill.

Even so, you couldn't help taking the chance to dress up a little bit. It was so rare that you got out (outside of work, at least) so you tended to go a little over the top when the opportunities presented themselves. Surely you couldn't go wrong with a cute dress and tights.

Plus, who doesn't want to look this good in front of two absolutely gorgeous men?

It was hard enough that you were attracted to both of them. Flirting with one felt like some unspoken betrayal to the other, so you usually just tried to push those feelings down. But you weren't blind; unlike their more practical clothing and tactical gear, your hero suit hugged you in all the right places, and you had caught them both staring multiple times. You'd even teased them on more than one occasion about finding better partners if they were going to keep getting distracted on the job.

So why not throw caution to the wind while you can and give them a little more to look at?

Despite your original confidence, when you rap your knuckles on the door to Frank's apartment, you couldn't help the flutter of butterflies that burst forth in your stomach. What if your neckline plunged too low? What if they got the wrong (right?) idea about you from the fishnets that hug your hips just as tightly as the skirt of your dress?

You're unable to dwell on those thoughts for long before the door opens, and you're face to face with Bucky in a wife beater and joggers. His calm and collected demeanor slips for just a second, and his eyes are devouring your figure before he realizes what he's doing. He clears his throat and presses his lips shut into a thin line.

“Y/N. Good. You made it.” He blinks, scratching the back of his head with his organic arm, and steps back to allow you inside. “You… You look good,” he adds with a curt nod.

“Close the damn door. Air conditioning isn’t cheap, you know,” you hear Frank’s gruff voice call out from further in.

“I’m offering good company for free. Think that’ll cover it?” you retort with a cheeky smile as you round the corner into the living room, your heels clacking on the wooden floors.

To his credit, Frank doesn’t even try to hide the once-over he gives you. All you get in return is an amused snort. He looks good, you think, in a simple t-shirt and jeans. The denim has a few oil stains and the shirt is probably a size too small, but it suits him. You certainly can't complain about being able to see his strong physique on full display. Honestly, the two of them just look the same as they usually do minus all the extra equipment. Now you really feel overdressed.

“You heading out to the club after this or something?” Frank quips while gesturing to your outfit.

Before you get the chance to be terribly embarrassed or even defend yourself, Bucky returns the Punisher's snark. “She can dress how she wants, old-timer. And don't think I missed the way you looked at her.”

You flash Bucky a smile of thanks. Frank grumbles something about being called “old-timer” by the guy who's older than him, but otherwise drops it. Bucky disappears into the kitchen for a minute, followed soon after by the sounds of bottles clinking in the opened fridge.

Frank pats the seat next to him. Once you oblige, sinking into the poor, abused couch that threatens to swallow you whole in its cushions, he heaves a big sigh.

“You do look good. Just had to tease you,” he explains himself before Bucky reappears behind you with three beers in hand. “But Winter Princess over here had to get his panties in a knot over it,” he adds with a pointed smirk.

“If this weren't your place, I might smash this bottle over your head,” Bucky taunts back even as he hands him one.

He vaults over the back of the couch, throwing himself back into the cushions without much grace and landing next to you with an audible oomph. It launches you up a little in your seat. That, coupled with their banter, draws a lilting giggle from your lips. Bucky shoots you the softest of smiles. Ah… you were wondering when the butterflies in your stomach were coming back.

He hands you the last beer, and you see the metal plates of his arm open and shift about before a tentacle reaches out and pops the cap off for you.

“Nice Swiss Arm-y Tool you got there,” you can't help but say with a shit-eating grin as you catch the cap in your other hand. Frank snorts again and Bucky sighs, losing his smile immediately and shutting his eyes.

“I will take yours back,” he threatens half-heartedly.

The tentacle that slithered about after opening the bottle lingers for a moment, and you pull back with a start when the cold appendage brushes against your wrist. Bucky's eyes widen and he quickly withdraws, metal clanking and shrieking against itself as he returns his arm to its usual state.

“Sorry. They have a mind of their own sometimes. Been meaning to see Shuri about that,” he explains apologetically. He can’t seem to look you in the eye.

“I-It’s okay,” you manage to eke out, absentmindedly rubbing the spot where it had touched you. You knew about them, fighting with him as you so often did, but that was the first time you'd felt them. It was so alien, and you shudder at the thought of what they could have been if Hydra had their way.

“And I thought I was a buzzkill,” Frank finally chimes in as he starts flicking through channels with the TV remote. It earns him a glare from Bucky, but he ignores it. He settles on some random sci-fi movie for background noise before setting the remote onto the arm of the couch. That'll probably get lost between the cushions later.

Despite his intent, you find yourself trying to focus on what's on the screen instead of the awkward silence building between you three. You hadn’t seen Fifth Element in ages. Trying (and failing) to ease your nerves, you lean back in your seat, crossing one leg over the other as you take a swig of beer. Eugh. Frank definitely wasn't breaking the bank for this brand.

After a little while, you all settle into what is at least a slightly more comfortable silence. Fifth Element just has a way of bringing people together, you suppose. Bucky props a foot up on one knee, and you don't miss the way he rests his mechanical arm on the back of the couch behind you. Frank leans forward and leans his elbows on his thighs, and his repositioning leaves his leg pressing against yours. The scratchy denim catches a bit on your fishnets, and even through the thick fabric you can feel the heat of his skin.

It continues like that for several minutes. Your eyes, as discreetly as you can manage, keep finding their way to the men on either side of you. You notice the steady rise and fall of Bucky's chest, the way his shoulder muscles twitch every once in a while when he adjusts his metallic arm. You see Frank's fingers tense a bit around the neck of the bottle he holds, and suddenly a part of you wonders how those fingers would feel around your own neck…

Korben Dallas and Leeloo just aren't capturing your attention anymore.

“Met Bruce Willis once. Weird guy,” Frank suddenly pipes up. It takes you by surprise and you actually jump in your seat, granting you raised eyebrows from both of them.

“You okay, Y/N?” Bucky asks as he turns his body to face you better.

Warmth rushes to your face. “I-I'm fine! I don't know why that startled me. Guess I was just lost in the movie,” you lie as you run a nervous hand through your hair.

Frank places a hand on your bare shoulder and squeezes a bit. His palm is searing, no, branding on your skin, the ghost of it lingering even when he pulls away.

“You're tense, doll face. Somethin’ the matter?” he asks.

“Probably working too hard. Come to think of it, this is the first time I've seen Y/N outside of work,” Bucky comments with a hint of genuine concern. His metal hand finds the back of your neck and massages it gently, and you feel your face flush even more at the sudden contact. “You can loosen up, you know,” he teases.

It does feel nice, you can't deny that.

“Yeah… loosen up…” you murmur, trying to sound thoughtful. Your head bobs a bit as Bucky continues, and you see a slight smile return to his face.

You can also feel the tension in the room shift… but you don’t see the way Bucky and Frank look at each other as your eyes flutter close. A wordless exchange occurs between them unbeknownst to you, and they both nod in agreement.

It was something they’d discussed before, after all.

“You’re always taking care of us, you know. And I don’t just mean on the battlefield,” Bucky mutters in your ear. When had he gotten that close? “You’re always checking up on us, calling or texting us to see if we’re doing okay…”

“We invited you over to let loose, sweetheart. And you’re not doing a very good job of it yet,” Frank adds gruffly.

“I… I’m sorry?” you finally respond with a slight laugh in your voice. You’re not sure if you should apologize or not, really.

“Maybe you should be,” Frank grunts as his hand rests on your knee.

Bucky chuckles. “Don’t be sorry.” He’s practically leaning into you now, and you can feel his breath on your ear. It sends shivers across your skin. “Just let us take care of you… if you want us to, of course,” he adds.

“What is…?” You want to say “happening,” but words seem to fail you when Frank cups your jaw and forces him to look at you.

“I said you looked good. But I think you’d look even better without that get-up,” he almost growls. His eyes are dark with something you’ve never seen in him before, and a shuddered breath slips from your lips.

“O-Oh…”

It’s all you can muster.

But that’s all it takes.

You don’t have to wonder what Frank’s fingers feel like on your neck anymore as he grabs the back of your head and tugs you into a possessive, devouring kiss. His lips are rough, a bit chapped, but that doesn’t matter when his tongue delves eagerly into your mouth. The hand on your knee grips you harder.

“Should have known you’d be the impatient one,” Bucky chides before pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the crook of your neck. The stubble on his chin scratches against your skin in the best way. A broken moan gurgles in your throat.

Well. This was not how you were expecting the night to go at all.

You hear metallic tings and clangs behind you, and that’s all the warning you have before tentacles are slithering down your back and sides. It’s a little cold and it certainly catches you by surprise, but the way they slip under your dress is undeniably erotic. Bucky freezes. Ah, so he hadn’t meant to do that.

Breathing heavily, you break the kiss with Castle to face Bucky with lust-darkened eyes. “N-No… it’s okay,” you breathe. He looks at you like you’ve grown another head, but once his eyes flicker down to your panting and kiss-bruised lips, desire wins over. He nods, dumbfounded, before claiming his own turn at kissing you.

Frank, a bit perturbed at having his make out session interrupted, takes out his frustrations on the opposite side of your neck. Where Bucky was passionate and intense, Frank is angry, biting hard and sucking dark hickies into your skin. If you were standing, you know your knees would be wobbling. His hand travels higher, roughly massaging your inner thigh with callused fingers.

Tentacles squirm down the front of your dress, curling underneath your breasts and squeezing them. You gasp into Bucky’s mouth and he bites your lower lip, tugging it between his teeth. Even more tendrils travel lower, cold shocking your feverish skin, and you feel them toying with the elastic band of your panties. Bucky’s hair tickles your nose when he presses his forehead to yours, panting slightly.

“Been wanting to do that for a while… you sure you’re okay with this?” Bucky asks even as his body is clearly trembling with unsatiated lust.

When you open your mouth to answer, Frank bites down hard on your neck, and you’re seeing stars as he draws a cry from your throat. You can feel him smiling against your skin.

“Twenty bucks says she’s soaked through. You’re enjoying it just fine, aren’t you sweetheart?”

“I-I…” you start, but only a low groan follows when he nibbles on your earlobe. Their lips occupied everything from your neck up while tentacles lavished you with attention beneath your dress. Frank was right: you could feel the wetness pooling between your legs already. His hand teasing at your inner thigh and dipping beneath the hem of your skirt certainly wasn't helping.

“She can't even think straight. I think it's working,” Frank snickers. He palms your breast roughly through your dress, finding the hardening nipple and tugging on it through the fabric.

“F-fuck…” you stammer breathlessly. You're still facing Bucky, and he's drinking in every delicious expression of desire that crosses your face. He adjusts himself in his pants, but the tent forming there is obvious. Your mouth waters when you catch a glimpse of it.

Bucky’s hand finds itself on your opposite thigh, spreading your legs apart as tentacles dip lower. Your breathing stops in anticipation. Part of you wonders if he can feel everything that they feel. The groan he utters when he swipes a tendril up your clothed slit answers that question, and you answer him in kind with a throaty whine.

“She's drenched, Castle,” he growls before kissing you again.

“And we're only just getting started,” Frank adds as his hand yanks down the front of your dress. You let out a soft gasp as those rough fingers grope at your bare skin. His teeth and tongue work their way down your chest. When his lips close around your nipple and his tongue flicks back and forth rapidly across the bud, your legs try desperately to clamp themselves shut. But their hands wouldn't allow that. In fact, Frank slaps the tentacle out of the way before cupping your sex to feel just how wet you are. His approval hums through his lips, and the small vibrations of it against your sensitive flesh have you bucking into his hand.

Speaking of hands, you've been at a loss at what to do with yours this entire time. It was difficult to focus on any one thing. Your palms smooth along their biceps, or you feel your fingers clutching desperately onto their shirts and wrinkling the fabric. Every ounce of your concentration is spent processing each source of pleasure and simulation they give you.

Bucky's lips leave yours to travel lower, nipping at your collarbone. He gazes up at you with no small amount of anticipation, practically begging you to continue moaning for the two of them. Your head falls back against the couch as you gasp for air.

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this,” Bucky praises as he massages your thigh.

“Mm… I… it feels… fuck…” you groan, your fingers finding the back of Frank's head and holding him to your chest. Your legs are quivering as he continues pleasuring you through your panties.

“Feel even better when you've got our cocks stretching you out,” Frank adds bluntly as his breath ghosts over your nipple.

You feel like a whore when you moan at those dirty words. The idea makes you impossibly wetter, and you feel your walls clench around nothing. Bucky seems affected by it too, because now he's the impatient one trying to free himself from his pants.

You barely catch a glimpse of it before you feel his tentacles wrapping securely around you and lifting you up, settling you on his lap. Those same tentacles rip open your fishnets and tug your underwear to the side. A surprised gasp escapes you at the sound of torn netting, but you don't have time to be offended. He's hovering your slick wetness over his achingly hard cock, grinding it up against you while his free hand grips your ass and guides you back and forth.

“Oh fuck… Bucky,” you whimper. They weren't kidding about taking care of you. You didn't move a muscle as those cold tendrils held you aloft.

“Who's the impatient one, now?” Frank accuses with no small amount of annoyance. He's standing up behind you now, lifting your dress up around your hips and groping your ass. In his frustration, he gives it a hard smack, but that sting only drives you crazier and you let out a staggered keen.

“Like that, do ya?” he asks with a malicious smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He gives you a few more smacks, enjoying the sounds they pull from your lips. “We talked about taking turns, but maybe what you really need is to be stuffed completely. Want us to use you like our doll, doll face?”

You can see the flicker of worry in Bucky’s eyes, thinking that maybe this was going too far, but you're practically gushing at the idea. You nod with a pleading whimper.

“Fuck, yes. Please. Ruin me,” you respond. Despite his hesitation, your words cause Bucky to twitch against you. You want so badly to guide his cock into you and start bouncing on it, but those tendrils wrap around your wrists and keep your arms in place behind your back.

Bucky's breathing grows ragged, and he gives you a warning look. “Keep saying shit like that, and you're gonna drive me crazy.”

“Why don't you shut your mouth and keep putting those tentacles of yours to good use? Stand and hold her up so we can both fuck her,” Frank commands with a snarl. You hear the clink of his belt buckle and the growl of a zipper soon follows, and even before Bucky has complied you feel a thick, hard cock pressed against your ass.

Bucky gives the other man an indignant huff, wanting nothing more than to fuck you right here on the comfort of the couch. Not to mention that using his tentacles like this was completely uncharted territory; they seemed affected by his desires and impulses, but even he doesn’t trust those all of the time.

Unfortunately for him, those sweet lips of yours pout irresistibly at him. And when it comes to you, his resolve crumbles in an instant.

“You want this?” Bucky starts, standing upright as his arm tentacles lift you higher. Your arms are above your head now, and a tentacle slithers down further until it teases at your neck. “Fine. But don’t come crying to me if you get overwhelmed,” he tells you as he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger. His lip curls ever so slightly, almost disgusted at himself for giving in so easily. But even he couldn’t deny just how wet and ready you seemed to be. And the way your hooded eyes look at him, the way your pupils swallow your irises completely, draws a soft growl from his throat.

Your only response is to lift your legs and wrap them around his waist, tugging him closer, smirking and daring him to continue. Tentacles meet those quickly, binding your ankles together and pinning you to his body.

“Nice try, sweetheart. But we’re in control here,” he mutters as his lips brush against yours. You try to meet them properly, but he holds you in place by your chin as he pulls away. A low whine chokes from you, and he shakes his head. “You signed up for this.”

While your heated exchange continues, Frank strokes his cock behind you, readying himself with lubricant. Bucky would have the easier job of it, but that doesn’t bother him. He’s not called the Punisher for nothing. Since he doesn’t have to worry about holding you up (though, he most certainly could), he rips your panties off of your body with one hand while the other presses two slick fingers against your anus. You yelp at the sudden intrusion, completely ignoring the second aggression performed against your clothing for the night. No, you can only focus on how thick his fingers are as they press against the tense muscle. You’re breathing heavily as he eases the first digit inside.

Bucky finally releases your chin, instead taking his own length in hand and teasing it up and down your slit. He spreads your wetness over the tip, watching your face carefully as your lips part into an “o” shape. You were being teased from both sides, never fully getting what you wanted, and it leaves you a whimpering mess. Frank chuckles from behind as he inserts a second finger.

“Yes… more! Oh gods, please…” you beg as you buck against them.

“Like a bitch in heat,” he grunts while scissoring the digits inside you.

A breathy chortle of agreement drags out of Bucky’s lips. The tentacle that teased at your neck before now wraps around it fully, constricting slightly. Your eyes go wide at the sensation, but Bucky doesn’t miss the way your thighs clamp around his waist. The end of the tendril brushes tenderly at your lips like it’s trying to map them out by touch alone. The tip of Bucky’s dick finally pushes inside you, slipping through easily as he slides inch after inch into your beckoning heat. His head falls forward with a groan, his brows knitting together as he waits for you to acclimate to the stretch of him. Strangled curses force their way from your throat, words of praise bubbling at your lips as your velvety walls suck him in. You already feel so full, and if they continue, then that means…

“So… tight,” Bucky manages as sweat beads on his forehead. “Dunno how she’s gonna-”

“She’ll be fine,” Frank interrupts, speaking for you as he withdraws his fingers. He grunts in amusement at the small squeak you let out. You don’t even have time to mourn the loss before the head of his cock pushes insistently against your prepared hole. “Relax, doll face. Breathe.”

Well, that’s easier said than done when you’re being gently choked by an eldritch tentacle.

Thankfully, the appendage relents, and just as you take in a deep breath of sweet, sweet oxygen, Frank shoves the entire tip into you with one push. Your breath catches in your throat. He thrusts that little bit in and out, sinking further and further each time. It rocks you against Bucky. He’s having a hard time keeping himself restrained from moving as is, and those little bounces are testing his resolve. His hand grips your waist almost painfully.

And then, without pomp or ceremony, Frank sheathes himself to the hilt. You cry out loudly, tossing your head back, but he’s done waiting. You’re lucky he took the time to stretch you out a bit in the first place, he thinks. His cock pistons in and out of your ass rapidly, his broad arm wrapping around your front to paw at your breasts as they bounce with his movements.

Bucky can feel the other man’s cock through that thin wall of skin, making you impossibly tighter. It’s an effort when he begins thrusting. Once he’s able to match Frank’s rhythm, they alternate, never leaving you empty. Your eyes roll back into your head and your jaw hangs slack as moans pour from your lips.

“Atta girl,” Frank grunts before he starts biting and sucking at your neck. He’s fucking you aggressively, possessively, wrecking you completely as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Your nails dig into the tentacles that hold you aloft, and Bucky hisses. You feel yourself being choked again in retaliation. He wasn’t expecting you to tighten around him when he did that, though.

Gods, you really were the perfect little fuck doll, weren’t you?

Bucky doesn’t know where to focus his gaze. Frank’s hand squeezes one tit while the other bounces with their thrusts. Your neck looks so beautiful with his tentacle wrapped around it. Your lips part so sweetly as you desperately gasp out your sounds of pleasure. He looks down to where your hips meet, and you’ve already ruined the front of his pants where they sit beneath his cock. Fuck. He reaches down, pressing his palm against your stomach as his thumb flicks circles on your clit.

Your mind is going blank. You don’t even form actual words anymore, simply babbling incomprehensible sounds as your mascara runs in lines down your cheeks. Pressure builds in your core, amplified by your lack of oxygen, and your thighs tremble around the Winter Soldier. Frank pauses in his thrusts, and before either of you can question why, he’s timing his thrusts with Bucky.

You feel full to bursting. Your moans are sobs now, and your body hangs limply in the tentacles’ grasp as they fuck you in tandem. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth, and a tendril presses against it before snaking between your lips. In your fucked-out state, it only feels natural to suck on it.

“Sh-shit…” Bucky curses as that causes his thrusts to falter for a second. “How do you keep getting sexier?”

Frank sucks mark after mark into your skin, angling his thrusts to the side slightly so he can spank your ass with his free hand. You scream around the tentacle in your mouth. So much pressure, so much euphoria. You’re going insane, absolutely cock-drunk. It builds in you, with electrical currents zapping straight to your core with every thrust, every bite, every slap. Your walls flutter around them, and Bucky redoubles his efforts at playing with your clit. So close. So close.

They’re not faring much better than you. You’re a feast for the eyes from the front and the back, and those gargled moans and strangled cries you keep making only spur them on more. Their pace quickens, muscles straining as they fuck you into utter oblivion. Bucky’s eyes close and he grits his teeth. Frank only gets even more aggressive with his affection, nearly bruising your breasts with his squeezing and making sure your ass has a permanent sting.

“Take it, doll face. Fuck,” Frank curses. You can feel him swelling inside you with his impending release.

“Y… mmhh… yeth, oh f…fuck,” you stammer around the tentacle in your mouth.

And then Bucky angles his thrusts just a little bit to the side. You gasp with a shrill cry.

Bingo.

He hammers into that spot, never relenting on your clit. The tentacle around your neck squeezes tighter, and for a moment you wonder if you might black out. But it’s all too good, too intense, and you feel it rising, rising--

Your walls spasm around them and Bucky releases the tentacle around your throat in the same instant. A hoarse cry pours from your lips as you experience an earth-shattering orgasm, oxygen rushing to your head and your entire body convulsing in the tentacles’ hold. Wave after wave of gooey warmth washes over you. Both men watch you in awe as you let go completely, falling limp, and fuck you even faster to chase their own release. You fade in and out of consciousness as your orgasm fades, but you’re brought back to reality when Frank grunts and growls animalistically before stilling, pumping load after load into your ass. His softening cock slides out of you as he steps back and falls against the couch.

Bucky is gasping, his muscular frame glistening with sweat as he takes over, his tentacles retracting back into his metal arm as he catches you. You yelp in surprise as your arms wrap around his neck to steady yourself. His eyes bore straight into yours with an undeniable ferocity, and then he’s kissing you hungrily. Your fingers thread into his brown locks, and he continues fucking you as he holds you aloft in his arms. He groans into your lips as his hips pick up the pace and you feel yourself moaning along with him. He lets out a long, drawn out growl when he finally stiffens, thrusting a few more times as you feel his seed paint your walls. When he breaks the kiss, he’s panting, and he too falls back against the couch. He’s still holding you, and you let out a giggling yelp as you fall onto his lap.

It takes some effort to control your trembling limbs, but you manage to extract yourself, returning to your original seat between them. All three of you are a mess, panting, sweaty, and half-dressed.

When you happen to glance over to the TV, you’re surprised to see that they’re still playing Fifth Element. These commercial breaks are getting ridiculous. Frank absentmindedly looks for the remote, looking to turn down the volume, but can’t seem to find it and gives up. Probably between the couch cushions, but he’s a bit too lazy to look that hard right now.

Bucky’s arm finds its way behind you again, but this time it rests on your opposite shoulder. “So… feeling good, Y/N?”

You hum, lolling your head back and forth to look at both of them. “Mm… I think I can’t feel my legs,” you joke with a chortle. “And… I definitely think we should do this more often.”

#marvel rivals #the punisher x reader #winter soldier x reader #marvel rivals x reader #bucky barnes x reader #frank castle x reader #marvel rivals fanfic #marvel rivals the punisher #marvel rivals winter soldier #glasvera writes #smut #marvel rivals smut #writing request

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savanir · 4 months ago

Text

I found your missing cat

It had taken a lot of work but about a month ago Danny finally got deep enough into A.R.G.U.S to be allowed into its Black Room. and my, what a treasure trove it is.

In the following weeks Danny has spent a lot of time finding all the lost Infinite Realms artifacts he was supposed to locate and return, as was part of his kingly duties. The Observants had been constantly on his ass about this but now that the results of his efforts are actually visible they have finally shut up.

Today though something new has gotten brought in and he’s eager to take a proper look, he could feel the Tyrant king’s influence from a distance emanating from it after all.

While on his way he noticed one of his colleagues, Miss Barbara Minerva if he remembers correctly, talking to who looks to be Wonder Woman. Danny hasn’t had the chance to do so himself yet, he’d love to introduce himself properly but he’s also a little worried about all the knowledge he has on Amazons from Lady Pandora (which he very much shouldn’t have) coming out the moment he tries to have a proper conversation.

Still he hopes nothing bad comes from those two ladies being on friendly terms. Miss Barbara's vibes are all over the place, and most often nowhere good, but who knows, maybe her being around Wonder Woman more will fix that.

He gets to his little section in the compound with the big examination table all decked out and ready for whatever. Today he gets to look at one of Pariah's lost blades, the godslayer sword.

Danny is working on getting all the murderous enhancements off of it and depowering it into something nowhere near so dangerous and deadly when something perks up within the weapon.

Sensing a kindred protection spirit it leaps up from the blade and into Danny, happily nestling around Danny's core and starts purring up a storm.

Danny however is violently startled out of his work. It's hard not to notice the sudden claws he feels both on his hands and feet. The spotted fur that covers seemingly his whole body now, his shifted ears, eyes and nose. And the fact he's now sporting a tail of all things.

The Cheetah may be pleased with this new development but Danny is certainly not.

Footsteps thunder his way, followed by a shout, "what is wrong!? I heard sounds of distress and- oh!"

"Uuuhhmmm..." What does he say!? How is he supposed to explain all this to Wonder Woman!?

She marches forward and firmly grabs his clawed hands in her own, not worried in the slightest about his now razor sharp nails, "worry not, we shall break this beastly curse that has befallen you, you have my word"

She gives him what he thinks must be a reassuring smile, "I am Diana of Themyscira and-"

Danny isn't really listening after that, she's probably just giving him more reassurances. It's nice but she's also pretty intense. And Danny is still freaking out a little.

"- so no need to fret"

Danny blinks,"Uh thanks, I- I'm Danny Fenton"

"It is most pleasant to meet you Danny Fenton, even if the circumstances are quite unfortunate"

"Yeah uhm, just Danny is fine"

"Very well you may call me Diana" She nods and lets go of his hands.

Diana then wishes to see the artifact that cursed him so, aka the blade (which didn’t curse him), Danny thankfully already fully depowered the damn thing safe for some minor traces of whatever Pariah saw fit to stuff in it.

By now Steve as well as Barbara have come to take a look themselves and though they appear startled at his new catlike appearance they are mostly just worried once Diana tells them he's cursed.

Which he's not, this isn't a curse at all. The big cat spirit still tightly curled around his core is clearly a blessing of some sort, that'll make dealing with it all so much more complicated...

But at least Danny got to meet wonder woman right? That's cool.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #Wonder Woman #diana prince #barbara minerva #DC The cheetah #a bunch of artifacts (crap) from the Infinite Realms gets misplaced #And Danny is tasked with fixing that mess #He got his grades up #makes his parents and sister proud by getting to work for/with Argus #he hopes that eventually with those credentials he'll be able to move further up into the stars #but with his luck some bullshit was bound to happen eventually #he didn't notice the protection spirit haunting Pariah's old butcher knife

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letstalkaboutshtufff · 3 months ago

Text

A Love that Burns

Marcus Acacius x f!reader

A/n: You don’t understand the chokehold this man has on me ughhhhh. Anyway I hope you guys enjoy, I wrote this very fast!

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x wife character (I usually do x reader but I really like the name Aurelia so I used that!)

Warnings: fluff, angst, arranged marriage, Curse words, mention of fire, minor injuries, burns. A bit of suicidal ideation. Allusion to smut hehe. 18+ to be safe please. No minors!!

Summary: General Marcus Acacius’s new bride is troublesome, he doesn’t seem to mind though. After an incident occurs she pulls away from him and he can’t figure out why.

****************************************************

“He’s going to be furious…”

“Such a shame…do you think he’ll throw her out?”

“He might… we always knew she was trouble but this time she’s gone too far…”

“Poor dear, I doubt even her father will take her back…”

The roaring flames had long since died down, leaving now only crackling embers and dark clouds of smoke. How much time had passed you didn’t know. You hadn’t moved from the ground, knees planted on the hard stone, eyes glued to the scene before you.

What was once a grand structure, beautifully carved and molded for someone equally as impressive was now nothing more than a pile on the ground and it was completely your fault.

How had wanting to get a book out of your husband’s study and lighting a candle to see had gone so wrong?

You should’ve listened to your conscious, it told you that you shouldn’t go into your husbands private building but you knew he had an extensive selection and while you were newly married, barely even a few months he was your husband and you didn’t really think he would mind.

In the short time you were married the general had been accommodating and civil, more than civil actually, he had been doing his best to make you feel comfortable. That being said you did barely see him at times due to his duties and when you did it seemed all you did was cause him trouble.

Like that time you accidentally visited the animals one early morning when you were bored and didn’t shut the door behind you. Acacius had been abruptly woken up by the clucking of chickens ascending the staircase and running around the halls like it was a party. You had been redder than a pomegranate when you realized your mistake.

Or that time you lost your wedding necklace and spent hours wading in the lake where the laundry was washed thinking it fell there. You’d never forget the feeling when Acacius strode through the gates in tow with fellow commanders for a meeting but everyone froze seeing the comical sight of you, a highborn lady dress pulled up and soaking wet. That time made you want to drown yourself right then and there.

Oh and how could you forget the time you wanted to show your appreciation by baking his favorite dessert according to the maids and thought adding some cinnamon you’d bought in town was a good idea. Not even bothering to wonder why the kitchens didn’t have cinnamon in the first place… turns out the reason was a good one, the general had an allergy.

This time it was his face that was redder than yours… you didn’t face him for days after that..

There were so many moments like that but somehow each time he didn’t get angry like you expected. He didn’t yell or scold you.

When you bit your fingers nervously watching the servants try to catch the chickens he slowly walked out, surveyed the scene in what you could guess was mild disbelief and perhaps a bit of amusement, looked at you then turned back to go back to sleep.

When you were soaked in the lake he quickly regained the men’s attention, led them inside then a few minutes later reappeared with some haste. You didn’t get a chance to protest when he stepped in and pulled you out by your arm. Still he didn’t yell, he did start to scold a bit though because you were shivering, but when you suddenly yelped and squirmed reaching in your dress and pulled revealing a flopping fish with your necklace around it he lost all his words. You celebrated while he just started in disbelief.

And when you literally poisoned him you sobbed beside him as the healer frantically gave him several mixtures and an injection of some sort. You apologized over and over like a parrot. When he could finally breathe again, he closed his eyes exhausted but said, “Don’t cry, it tasted great..”

All those times he was so kind, unlike any other man you’d met before. To think you had been so afraid of the arranged marriage and now all you could think was how he deserved someone so much better.

He was older and saw you as a child you were sure of it. You wished you could act like the other wives, but you just couldn’t.

Your eyes glazed watched the flickers before you as if in a trance.

You’d burned his favorite place in the villa. A building constructed years ago that served as his study, his place of comfort, his safe space. He’d showed it to you when you first got married. You’d been amazed at how beautiful it was on the inside.

You could see on his face how this place made him relaxed compared to the rest of the villa.

And now it was gone..

The whispers of the servants were muffled around you but you caught them all the same.

You couldn’t find the strength to move, maybe you should have at least moved back, away from the falling ash and debris but you couldn’t.

You ruined everything, just like always…

There was some more muffling amongst the crackling, some sounds you didn’t register, couldn’t register… then a sharp yell. A tone you didn’t recognize.

“Why is she-!”

There was pressure on your shoulders but still you couldn’t look away.

All gone… all your fault…

You think you heard something loud but couldn’t understand it.

The pressure increased… so did the shouting but still you couldn’t look away.

It wasn’t until you saw the burnt pile get smaller that you realized you were being pulled- no carried away.

You felt so disoriented, everything in your vision jerking and you realized whoever was moving you was running.

The scene was still in view but further away, your eyes not daring to look away. You did however register that you abruptly stopped moving and were sat on something upright. The pressure returned to your head then arms then body.

Yelling, someone was yelling in your ear but it wasn’t until the pressure reached your face and you were forced to look away from the scene.

Eyes, wide and frantic, searched yours. Lips opened and shouted something you still could not understand. But the face you knew all too well. The one you wronged, the one you did a horrible misdeed to. Acacius.

You inhaled loudly, more of a gasp then coughed. Suddenly you felt everything crash into you at once, from when you were numb a moment ago now you burned in pain, lungs on fire, skin itchy and stinging, eyes feeling like the sun itself were upon them. You coughed and sputtered uncontrollably, breathing a foreign concept to you.

His strong hands at your back and arm. Almost cradling you was a strong contrast to his shouts that you could now hear louder than ever.

“Breathe, easy, easy- Dammit why did no one move her! Call the healer now!” He barked behind him.

Angry he was angry. Of course he was, even gentle and kind men like him had limits, limits that you’d crossed by battlefields.

Hot tears came, still you coughed, you wondered how long you could continue like that before losing consciousness, there were already spots in your vision. The sobbing now made it worse.

“Shh shh breathe it’s alright, just breathe for me wife, all is well, shh look I’m here, you’re safe” he pulled you into his lap holding you firmly in the hopes you’d calm down. He kept whispering to you, pleading and eventually the coughing stopped. You wondered how much more smoke it would’ve taken to kill you…

“That’s it, you’re safe, shh just breathe, I’m here” more tears emerged as you registered his words for the first time. How horrible you felt to have this angel of a man cradling you and comforting you when you just burned down his sanctuary.

It would have been easier on your heart had he yelled and thrown you aside.

“The healer is here!” Someone called out, your eyes were closed on his chest but you heard everything around you.

Swiftly you were lifted in his arms and carried to his chambers. The healer immediately got to work peeling back the fabric you only now noticed was dark as ash and singed in many places. Acacius stood behind her as close as he could without getting in her way. You watched as his eyes scanned your form, concern etched as he took in all the burns and scrapes. Your heart couldn’t handle it, he deserved a woman 100times better than you. You shut your eyes of the heartache ignoring the healer telling you to stay awake, moments later you were unconscious.

**************************************************

Stinging pain roused you, you wanted to cry out because your body was screaming at you. You were alone in the room, but by the moonlight shining through and how exausted you felt you didn’t think you had been unconscious long. Fresh tears escaped and you didn’t bother to wipe them.

You sat up in raw agony realizing just how many injures you sustained. Your skin was covered in loose bandages and shiny from salve. Sitting so close at the time you didn’t feel anything but clearly you were affected.

Shouting from below had your head whipping to the window.

With great effort and pain you stood on shaky legs and approached the opening peeking your head outside, you squinted and saw figured in the yard.

You choked out a sob when you realized what was happening. Acacius was yelling… yelling at the servants and guards for not moving you. Yes they put out most of the fire but didn’t bother with you. You hardly blamed them, you were a burden, an embarrassment of a lady to the great house hold. Perhaps they wanted you to die, actually it would have been easier if you did.

You couldn’t bare to listen to it anymore, guilt eating you alive. For some reason you had to see it again. To confirm what you had done…

You ignored all the pain and like a ghost descended the staircase.

When you reached the bottom you sucked in a breathe before walking forward where the smell of smoke was still heavy and thick.

And there it was, like a brand on your heart the scene of your crime. There were no more embers, just wood and ash. You walked closer until you stepped on something.

You moved your sandal revealing a silver medal covered in soot. You remembered how proudly it hung on one of the walls. And now it was beneath rubble and dirt.

Two hands found your mouth as you let out a cry.

“Heavens What have I done?” The strangled voice sounded stranger to you.

“What have I done, what have I done” you whispered achingly.

“Aurelia!”

You choked again hearing his voice, you couldn’t bring your self to look just yet.

“Aurelia what are you doing!? Why are you up!?” He rounded you hands finding your shoulders.

Acacius waited for your answer but you had none, only fresh tears. He barely hesitated before reaching down and scooping you up.

“I can walk-“ you tried to say but it was unintelligible through your tears, you didn’t want to burden this man ever again, not for anything.

He glanced at you for a moment but continued his quick pace to the bedroom. He laid you gently on the bed, his concern growing at the endless tears.

“Are you in pain? Let me call the healer back-“ he was already halfway out again.

“No-! no I’m fine I’m fine don’t call I’m fine!” You cried out but tried to collect yourself to not worry him more. The truth is your body was on fire but you would never burden this man again.

He hesitated but listened and approached you again, “Then what is it? Are you afraid? Everything’s alright now, your safe”.

You bit your lip to keep in the cry. How could he be so kind?

“Aurelia? Tell me please, what is it?” He kneeled beside you a helpless expression on his face.

“I-I I’m so- im so sorry, I’m sorry- I don’t know how- I was in there for a b-book and lit some candles I don’t even know how it h-happened I-I-“

Your breathing was becoming erratic again but once you started apologizing you couldn’t stop

“I’m so s-sorry Acacius I’m so sorry” you buried your face in your hands.

“Aurelia shh it’s alright, don’t cry, it’s nothing that can’t be replaced, don’t apologize, you need to breathe alright?”

You barely heard him, but you needed him to know how sorry you were, even if you didn’t deserve forgiveness.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry” you continued.

“Aurelia-“

“I’m s-sorry”

“Aurelia stop you’ll hurt yourself more!” He kneeled on the bed pulling you closer to him, worried that if you didn’t calm down you would go into another coughing fit.

“Shh it’s alright, I’m not angry, all that matters is you’re safe. Please calm down, can you breathe slowly for me? Look, follow my breathe…”

“That’s it, breathe in and out just like that, good girl…” he held you close and you felt your eyes begin to droop, exhaustion taking its toll. He sighed when your last words were a whispered apology.

***************************************************

The next day you were miserable, the burns although mostly shallow still caused great pain. Mentally you were a wreck, replaying the events over and over.

The healer told you you needed to rest for several days so that’s what Acacius made sure you did. He visited often but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak hardly a thing out of shame. Most times you just pretended you were asleep.

A week passed and you were allowed to get up as normal just to take it easy. Acacius had gone out for some business luckily because you didn’t think you had the strength to face him.

As you descended the stairs you tried to ignore the whispers of the servants. They all thought the same thing you were repeating in your mind.

Burden

Shameful

Useless

You sighed shakily nearing the now cleaned land where the structure once stood. His kindness made you feel horrible. You wish he would yell and scream at you, for you deserved all the bad words

You spent the day aimlessly wandering and thinking until you tired yourself out and retired to your chambers.

A jar of salve was left by your bed from the healer for the pain but you didn’t open it. You deserved every single sting and ache.

The next day you hardly felt like getting up so you didn’t. Food was brought, you didn’t bother eating it, instead you gave it to the birds outside the window.

In your solitude you came to a resolve. You would resist every urge, every inkling of your old reckless self. Acacius deserved someone who was 100 times the woman you were but since you were bound all you could do was at least not give him any more trouble. Another week passed, Acacius had been gone for some military business and it was easier that way.

It had been a whole nother week when Acacius finally arrived back to the villa. He dismounted his horse with a sigh. He did not want to be gone so long but he could hardly deny the emperors requests.

Tiredly he walked through the gates, scanning for signs of you. It was unusual to not see you flitting about.

A servant approached and helped him remove his cape.

“The Lady, how is she?”

The servant frowned a bit, “My Lady has been… resting these past weeks. We’ve not seen much of her.”

He frowned at that. Her wounds were not so terrible to have her bedridden so long. So what was wrong with his wife?

He nodded to the servant and made way directly to her chambers.

He knocked on the door listening for her voice.

“Come in” you called expecting a servant with food.

You were sat on the bench by the window staring out.

“My Lady..” he said almost hesitant.

Your head whipped to the side, eyes widened seeing your husband.

“A-Acacius… I didn’t know you were back…”

He walked inside and shut the door behind him.

“Are you well? The servants tell me you haven’t left the room much..” he stepped closer taking you in. Your sunken face, the way your eyes weren’t lit up with that sparkle he loved.

“I’m alright, thank you..” he frowned, not quite satisfied with the answer.

“Your wounds are healed?”

You nodded quickly.

He nodded then cleared his throat in the awkward silence that followed, “Then why haven’t you been out?”

You thought of what to say for a moment, “I… no reason, just resting I suppose”

Another answer that didn’t satisfy him but he decided not to pry. If you didn’t want to speak he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable.

“Well I’ll be in my chambers should you need anything…”

“Thank you..” and with that he left shutting the door behind him. You bit your lip forcing the tears not to come. How dare you cry when he’s the one who should be upset. Get it together.

Several more days pass and Acacius was growing frustrated. You barely left the room, choosing to take your meals inside even when he was home. He only caught glimpses of you here or there on the occasional walk around the garden but even that was becoming rare. Where was his wife who was always flitting around singing something off tune or getting into trouble. He recalled the time he awoke to clucking outside his door, and the time he found you skirts tied comically splashing in the lake, then of course when you so happily baked for him flour marks on your face. He smiled fondly at the memories, then frowned.

Why had you suddenly changed so much? Had he done something? He knew the fire shook you up but perhaps he said something unintentional? Did you overhear him yelling at the staff and resented him for it? He was going mad.

It took another few days before his patience finally ran out and he all but burst into your room.

“A-Acacius?! What-“ you startled dropping the book in your hands.

“Tell me what it is” he demanded a bit out of breathe.

“W-what?”

“Tell me what’s wrong or what I’ve done to upset you into seclusion”

“Acacius you’ve done nothing wrong I swear…”

“Then what is it? Why have you been avoiding me? What has upset you so much that you’ve locked yourself away?”

You didn’t expect this, so you really didn’t know what to say.

“I… I think it’s better this way…”

His eyebrows furrowed a bit trying to make sense of what you just said. “I don’t understand, what’s better?”

You fiddled with your hands and had a hard time making eye contact so you chose a lovely spot on the floor instead.

“It’s better that I don’t…. cause problems..” heavens was that a lot harder to say out loud than you thought.

This definitely took him aback.

“What?”

Oh no was he upset now? He surely looked it.. maybe you should have explained better.

“I-I mean… I’m always causing you trouble and getting into situations that I shouldn’t… I figured it would be better if I spent more time here….”

He was quiet for a while, his face undeniably confused and upset.

“And you decided this all on your own?” He said in a tone that you were a bit nervous about. Calm but hidden anger.

“I-I… yes..”

“So your plan is to live out the rest of your days between these four walls?” He couldn’t hold back a scoff. His annoyance seeping through his usually calm demeanor with you.

“….It’s better-”

He clicked his tongue in annoyance “Better? Better for who exactly?”

“Acacius all I do is cause you trouble! I’ve been embarrassing you since we wed, the entire household thinks I’m a burden and they’re right, I cannot-I will not burden you anymore especially after-…” you couldn’t bring yourself to mention the fire. With a shakey breath you gathered yourself and continued.

“I just don’t want to upset you anymore…” you confessed.

The silence was deafening, your heart squeezing so much you were afraid it was going to burst.

“You know out of everything that’s happened between us I think this is the only time I’ve been truly upset.”

You eyed him swallowing dryly taking in his clenched jaw and crossed arms.

“Acacius…”

“You don’t get to decide this all on your own, and you especially don’t get to decide how I feel.”

“…”

“Have I ever been cross with you? Made you feel as if you’ve shamed me?”

“Well no but-“

“Then why?” In two strides he was upon you looking down.

“Why did you suddenly decide that I would like it more if you hid yourself away?”

“Because if I’m here not causing you problems then wouldn’t it be easier for you…?” You wrung your hands together, anxiety heightening with every moment.

“Fuck that”

You jumped a bit startled that those words came out of his mouth.

“W-what?”

“Cause me problems”

“Acacius-“

“Break things, scream shout, bring the whole villa down if you wish it but you will not lock yourself up like a prisoner. You’re my wife, I’d like to actually have you around.”

“You… you’re just saying that because you’re too kind Acacius… but my heart can’t take it anymore. I did something so awful and I know you must be upset…”

“Is this about the fire then?”

“…”

“Things can be replaced, nothing that burned cannot be bought again or rebuilt.”

“B-but you loved that place. It was your sanctuary”

“I did love it, but it’s gone now and I hardly think about it, it’ll be rebuilt soon enough not that it really matters. What matters is that you’re safe and sound.”

“How can you be so kind? So patient so-so perfect” he scoffed at the last one in mild amusement.

“Acacius it’s true! I’ve never met someone so gentle and sweet”

“Gentle and sweet..I’ll be sure to add that to my title right after general or Rome”

“You joke but it’s the truth…” you look down at your sandals.

He sighed before lifting your chin up with his warm fingers then caressing your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

“Tell me something wife, have you seen me act that way with anyone else?”

“Well…” you thought about it. He was civil with everyone.. stern a lot, with servants and his men and well everyone else…

“And why do you think that is hm?”

“Well… I assume it’s because you see me more as a child…”

“A child.” He repeated.

You nodded.

“Aurelia you are never allowed to assume anything ever again”

“What?”

“You truly think that’s how I see you? That I treat you kindly because I pity you?”

“Well…then why?” You asked genuinely confused.

“Why treat my wife with care? Why worry for her? Why speak gentle words? Why shower her with gifts? Tell me Aurelia why does a man do those things for a woman?”

“I… I assumed-um well I believed that you were just..”

“Just what? Doing that out of duty? Is it so impossible to imagine that I love my wife and want her to be happy?”

“….” Your eyes widened larger than the sun. You hardly believed the words. So you asked him in a whisper.

“W-what did you s-say?”

Instead of answering he leaned forward closing the distance with a soft kiss.

“Does that answer your question?” He breathed in the few inches between your lips.

You shook your head no and leaned in. You felt the smirk against his lips. After several moments you pulled back to regard him.

“I never imagined you’d feel the same way…I still don’t think I believe it…”

“Like I said, you’re forbidden to assume things from now on wife”

“I… I’m sorry…” his hands settled at your waist, his smell flooding your senses.

“Make it up to me…”

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks but didn’t want to disappoint. You wrapped your arms around him pulling him into a deeper kiss full of emotion.

“Never allow such thoughts in your mind again, and you’re wrong, you’re not a burden. Yes I’ll admit you have a habit of getting into unique situations but I don’t mind, in fact I look forward to what surprises await me each day.”

“Do you really mean it? Even if I do awful things…? “

“Yes I mean it.. although I will draw the line at one thing, never do anything to put yourself in danger. When I saw you by the flames I-“ he paused sucking in a breathe.

And that moment you heart finally caught up with your head because no man could fake the emotions on his face like that.

You hugged him whispering an apology into his shoulder.

“You’ve apologized enough for a lifetime, come, dine with me, you’ve lost weight…” you nod letting him pull you by the hand out the door.

You heard some voices and frowned, anxiety creeping up again.

Ever the perfect man he caught on immediately.

“What is it?”

“The servants… it’s been hard to be around them… you might accept me for who I am but they haven’t…”

“I wouldn’t worry about it”

You cocked your head a bit at his amused tone, “why?”

“Because I fired them all”.

“Acacius!”

“Don’t protest, it’s done. I blame myself for not realizing what heartless people resided in my home. Besides I think you’ll like the new staff a lot better..”

You descended the staircase still confused why he seemed so smug until you heard voices you hadn’t heard in months.

“My Lady!”

“My Lady we’re here!”

“Oh how we’ve missed you!”

You couldn’t contain the loud gasp when your eyes landed on the familiar faces below. The staff that practically raised you was beaming up at you with joy.

“Oh my- Marika! Cicero! Diana! Felix! Ahh you’re all here!” You practically jumped from the staircase onto the group of your favorite people in the world.

Acacius couldn’t help but chuckle as the group enveloped you pulling you in, hugging and kissing you. Hardly the kind of servants he was used to but now he understood why you were so saddened to leave them behind. After your embraces you pulled back.

“What are you doing here? Is Father here?”

“You mean you don’t know?” The words would have worried you had everyone not been smiling ear to ear.

“Know what?” The general has employed us all here.

“W-what?!” You snapped your head to your grinning husband.

“B-but how did you- father must’ve been- h-how!?”

He laughed and descended the last couple steps, “I can be very persuasive if I need to be dear wife.”

“Oh- oh I don’t believe this!” you couldn’t contain your joy and parted from the group to jump on your husband who stumbled a bit but caught you of course. You kissed him then and there not caring who was watching- well in fact you didn’t care because everyone in the room were people you loved and felt safe with.

He was a bit surprised but when you pulled back his face was quickly morphed into fondness and satisfaction that the gleam in your eye was back.

“There she is..” you sighed happily hugging him once more then ran back to the awaiting group.

Well actually you made it halfway before pausing, turning around with an unsure look, and walking slowly back to him.

He tilted his head curious, “Acacius… will you… will you allow me to properly thank you… tonight? If that’s- if that’s something you’d like… or-“ your face that lovely shade of red he’d come to admire.

“Something I’d like?” He scoffed and for a moment you were afraid until you saw the expression in his eyes.

“Well I didn’t want to assume… you’ve forbidden it remember.” He smirked leaning down by your ear so only you could hear him.

“Listen well wife. This is the only exception you may always assume...” You shivered feeling his breathe caress your ear.

Gentle and sweet and now you had a new word to add, although you couldn’t quite find the right one just yet. But oh were you ever so eager to find out…

***************************************************

Is it getting hot in here guys?? No? Just me? Anywayyyy hope you enjoyed. I threw this up in one sitting so forgive all the mistakes. I finally saw the movie and wow, who knew they could fit so many hot men on one screen.

Also can anyone think of a better title lol😅

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 months ago

Text

UNMATCHED II.

A/N: soooo you guys were just as horny for a part 2 to this story as i was so here we are, giving in to the temptation. disclaimer, i know their behavior is giving red flag energy but lets just put that aside for the sake of the story now lol

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

WARNING: sexual content, age gap, student-professor relationship

SUMMARY: Harry has been trying his best to forget what happened with Y/N, he is set on never making the same mistake, but it seems like fate has different plans for him.

PART 1 | MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

That skirt. That goddamned skirt. That’s gonna be the death of Harry.

And also the fact that she went back to that asshole.

Sitting in the busy school cafeteria Harry has zoned out of the conversation at the table a long time ago, precisely when he saw Y/N stroll in wearing that short skirt with that dickhead she should have ditched already or better, she shouldn’t have even dated him in the first place. But now they are moving in the line with their group of friends and he has his hand on her waist and it keeps inching lower, just a few more inches and his hand could be slipping under her skir–

“Harry? Hello?”

Stella catches his attention and he is forced to move his focus back to his colleagues at the table.

“Huh? Sorry, what did you say?” He clears his throat and keeps his eyes on his half-eaten sandwich in front of him.

“What’s up with you? You haven’t been your usual self lately.”

“Just… tired. I’m behind with my research and have a bunch of papers to grade before winter break.”

“The joys of being a teacher,” Stella chuckles. “Don’t worry, it’ll get better with time.”

“Really?”

“No,” she smirks at him. “But you’ll care less.”

She soon returns to the conversation at the table and Harry finds himself looking for Y/N again. There’s no trace of her in the line, but he is quick to spot her at a table across the dining hall, sitting beside Dickhead who has an arm around her neck, keeping her close as he wants everyone to know that they are together.

And it irks Harry way more than it probably should.

It’s been a little over a week since Stella’s Christmas party and also that very heated and very wrong kiss he shared with Y/N. That weekend was like hell, he kept beating himself over and over about it, cursing himself out for being so stupid and reckless. He still has no idea what came over him that let him make out with a student, but he knew one thing for sure: it couldn’t happen again.

So when Y/N walked into the classroom before his first lecture early on monday he didn’t even let her speak before he got to the point.

“It shouldn’t have happened. I’m so sorry for it, but I can’t undo it now. I suggest let’s pretend nothing happened, it’s for the absolute best. No one can know about it and it will never happen again.”

She seemed taken aback by his outburst, but after a bit of hesitation she nodded.

“Okay. Nothing happened. It must have been the wine.”

“Yes,” he agreed right away. “We both drank more than we should have and made a mistake.”

She flinched at his last word, but didn’t protest, only nodded, holding her textbooks tighter to her chest. She looked so sad, even disappointed that Harry almost wanted to take back what he just said, but he knew he couldn’t.

“Are you… okay?” he dared to ask, but when she looked at him again, her eyes told nothing.

“I’m fine. I’ll see you in class, professor.”

And she was out of the classroom before he could say another word. In class she sat in the back and not even once did she look at him. He knows, because he kept looking at her.

He’s been trying his best to get her out of his head, but with not much luck. Not when all he can think about is how soft her lips felt against his, how insanely good she tasted mixed with the coldness of the night, how amazingly she fit into his palm, the curve of her neck, back, waist and hips… and how badly he wants to experience it again even though it’s the worst possible idea.

Harry thinks he is going insane. Genuinely.

He’s been burying himself into work, but his focus has been all over the place, so it’s been more like a waste of time. He is one of the last ones in the building today as well. Most professors left a long time ago, but the lights in Harry’s tiny office are still on as he is hunched over a stack of papers. When he has to read over the same line for the twentieth time he drops his pen with a tired groan and leans back in his chair. He takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes roughly, until he is practically seeing stars.

“Fuck,” he huffs, staring at the papers that are still waiting to be graded. Checking the time on his phone he is surprised to see that it’s already past seven.

He stands from his chair and steps to the window. The campus looks quiet at this time, only a few students are walking towards the dorm that’s next to the literature department’s building. It’s a wednesday night, the semester ends next week so some lucky students who have no more exams left in the year have already left for the holidays. Harry will be going home right before Christmas, he plans to use those few days of the break to work on his research in peace.

From his window he sees part of the parking lot next to the dorm, it’s quite dark there, he almost doesn’t notice the figures sitting in the car closest to him, but a few heartbeats later realization hits him.

It’s Y/N and the dickhead.

They are pretty far, but Harry can tell that they are in a heated fight, judging from how Y/N is gesticulating. Obviously he can’t hear them, but if he had to guess he would say she is shouting, from what he can see.

For a moment he tells him to just ignore the scene, it’s none of anyone else’s business, let alone his. But when he sees the asshole slap his hands against the wheel several times, making Y/N jump, Harry is moving before he could second guess his actions.

He practically sprints down that stairs, already trying to figure out how he’ll interject without appearing like a creep, but he forgets all his plans when he is marching towards the parking lot and sees the scene unfold from up close.

At some point they must have gotten out of the car, because Harry catches the dickhead getting back into the driving seat, Y/N is crying and tries to stop him from shutting the door, but he swings it with such force that she stumbles forward, holding onto the handle. When Harry sees her almost fall to the asphalt he starts running, just as the car comes to life and he drives away so fast, he almost runs over Y/N’s feet.

“Fuck you, Charlie! Fuck you!” She screams after the car, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Harry rushes over to her, grabs her by her shoulders and turns her away from the direction of the car. “Hey, what happened?”

She is gasping for air from the crying as she wraps her arms around her, those beautiful eyes that are usually filled with curiosity are now full of confusion and hurt.

“Y/N, look at me,” he begs and she hiccups a few times before she finally looks him in the eyes.

“H-Harry?”

He ignores how good it feels to hear her call him by his first name again and tries to focus on the situation.

“Yeah. Let’s get inside, okay? It’s freezing cold.”

She nods and lets him steer her towards the building and up to his office. By the time she sits in the old armchair in the corner of his office she has stopped sobbing, but her expression looks just as miserable as before.

“I’ll make you a tea. Do you like tea?” he asks, stepping over to the tiny side table where he keeps his kettle and tiny tea collection with two mugs. She nods and he is quick to turn on the kettle. He grabs a chamomile filter and drops it into one of the mugs and while the water boils he hands her a box of tissues that she accepts with a quietly murmured thank you.

When the tea is done he hands her the mug and sits in his chair, unsure what to say. He definitely did not plan to have her in his office anytime soon and definitely not like this.

“Go on, lecture me about being with him,” she says at last, staring into the mug in her hands.

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“But you’d be right.” She looks up at him, eyes still red from the crying.

“Why did you go back to him?” he softly asks, not wanting to make her feel even worse.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, looking away again. “He could be convincing, I guess.”

“Hope you won’t believe him after this.”

“No,” she chuckles bitterly before taking a sip from the tea, leaning back in the armchair. “Not even the sex will convince me to go back to him.”

Harry’s muscles jump at her words. Not because he is such a prude, but because instantly he is thinking about sex… and her… and his body reacts involuntarily. Clearing his throat he crosses his legs and looks anywhere but at her.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” she chuckles softly, but she doesn’t seem sorry at all.

“No, I… um…” Harry has no idea what to say. This feels like such an impossible situation, he is definitely walking on eggshells here and the fact that he is semi-hard does not help his case.

While he is looking for the right words she places her mug to his desk and crosses her legs, a curious look playing in her eyes as she is looking at him. She appears calm and confident suddenly, like she wasn’t sobbing ten minutes ago.

“I lied,” she then speaks up.

“About what?”

“I know why I went back to him.”

“Oh. Okay, why did you?”

She holds his gaze for one… two… three seconds before her lips part, then she hesitates for one more moment before answering.

“Because I couldn’t go to you.”

A shiver runs down his spine at her words, his body is betraying him already, but he hangs onto the last bit of his rationality.

“Y/N, don’t.”

“Don’t what? Don’t tell the truth?”

“We agreed that we are not talking about it again.”

“I’m not talking about that night. I’m talking about how badly I’ve been wanting you, but knowing I can’t have you I went back to Charlie even though I knew I shouldn’t have.”

“Y/N…” His mouth is dry and he feels ridiculously hot even though the heating hasn’t been working too well lately in his office. He is clawing at the arms of his chair, trying to keep the remains of his cool, though it feels like he is hanging on a thread.

“I won’t do anything about it, don’t worry. And I won’t bring it up again.” She sounds different this time, the confidence has turned into what feels like disappointment and it lurches something in Harry’s gut.

Standing she smoothes her clothes before looking at Harry, a tiny sliver of expectancy glistening in her eyes.

“Thanks for the tea. I better get going.”

She is already moving towards the door when Harry jumps to his feet, entirely lost about what to think, do or say. He strides after her and just when she is about to reach for the knob, he grabs her other hand, stopping her mid action.

But he has no idea why he just did that. His rationality is screaming at him, but with each passing moment he spends holding her hand, the noise gets farther and farther away until it’s lost somewhere in the back of his mind.

Slowly, she turns her head, eyes taking in the sight of their touching hands before her gaze meets his. He instantly stumbles back, letting go of her like she was on fire, but she doesn’t seem surprised. Instead, she turns around and just stands there, with a calm, but determined look on her face.

“Careful professor,” she then speaks up. “I might take your actions as a hint.”

“A hint…” he breathes out, almost mesmerized with her, he is convinced she’s put a spell on him, because he can’t move or think straight, he just keeps staring at her.

“Yes, a hint,” she nods shortly. “That you want me just as much as I want you.”

He swallows down a moan that almost slips through his lips at her words. His whole body is burning for her, palms sweating and itching to touch her and he can almost taste her on his tongue again, desperate to pick up from where they left off not long ago.

The tiniest smirk tugs on the corners of her mouth when she sees just how much he is struggling and she takes it as her queue to push her luck just a bit further. She takes a step closer to him, but still leaves some space between them, wanting him to close those last inches.

“You know you can have me.” She cocks her head to the side, blinking up at him innocently. “Right here, on your desk or in that armchair. I want to be your good girl and take whatever you give me.”

“Stop it,” he manages to breathe out, but all his strength is gone, it sounds more like a plea rather than an order.

“What if I don’t?” she sassily questions. “Will you punish me?”

Harry whimpers. They both know he is close to breaking and she is not stepping down now and she’s determined to push him over the edge. Slowly she reaches up, drags a finger across her lips before moving then down, tugging at her shirt at her chest, revealing more of the exposed skin there, then she starts playing with the top button, all while keeping her eyes focused on him. He sucks on his breath, his gaze keeps switching between her eyes and what her fingers are doing.

Then it pops open, revealing the delicious swell of her breasts and a bit of the lacy bra as well and he knows he is gone.

“Close the curtain,” he simply orders and a sudden rush of excitement washes over her as she quickly moves across the room, drawing the curtains on the window and turning around she is expecting him to be in the same spot, but to her surprise he is right there and before she could say a word, his lips crash down on hers with such force she would have fallen back if he didn’t already have an arm around her waist.

His other hand is quick to find its way to her throat first, then to her jaw, angling her head perfectly so he can devour her.

He spins them around and she gasps when her ass meets the edge of his desk, still kissing her he pushes forward, blindly tossing everything on the desk aside to make room, something clatters as it falls to the ground but neither of them cares to even look. His hands are on the back of her legs and he helps her up until she is sitting on top of the desk.

She eagerly opens her thighs and circles her legs around his hips, pulling him closer and when she feels just how hard he already is, pushing against her clothed center, she can’t help but moan at the sensation.

“It’s a one time thing,” he pants when her fingers start to work on his shirt and his hands find the button of her jeans.

“Sure,” she breathes out smiling.

“Just to get it out of our system.”

“Of course,” she nods eagerly, and a moment later she is tugging his shirt off his shoulders.

Buttons come undone, clothes are thrown across the room and soon enough all of his focus is on her naked chest, his hands exploring the tender, heated skin before his head dips down and his mouth meets her hardened nipples.

“Oh fuck,” she moans, head falling back as she has an arm around his shoulders, the other one planted behind her on the desk. All while his hands are tugging down her jeans, finally giving him the chance to touch her inner thighs, exploring the warmth and softness he’s been fantasizing about for so long.

He gently bites on one of her nipples, making her back arch, burying his face between her breasts before he leans back to get rid of her jeans. She has a moment to admire his naked torso, all the tattoos he’s been hiding under his clothes, his pants are hanging around his knees and his erection is throbbing through the fabric of his underwear. She can’t help but smile at the sight, it’s surely one she’ll remember forever.

When her jeans are discarded on the floor he plants his hands on her thighs and pushes them wide open, revealing her drenched panties. He brings his thumb over the wet fabric, lazily drags it over her clit, making her tremble under his touch. Then keeping eye contact with her he pulls his chair under him, sits down and rolls closer so his face is perfectly lined up with her. With his eyes still locked on hers, he leans forward, moves her panties to the side and places a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to her throbbing clit, making her moan so loud, he digs his fingers into her thighs pulling back.

“You need to be quiet,” he warns her and she just eagerly nods, watching him take her underwear off completely and go back to where he was a moment ago.

Harry drinks up her taste, he licks, kisses and sucks on the right spots, making her see stars as her orgasm is building up. When she feels two of his fingers slip into her she grabs a handful of his hair, tugging on it.

But right when she is about to tip over the edge he pulls back, leaving her in a heaving mess. Reaching into one of his drawers he grabs a condom and standing up he watches her lying on his desk, chest rapidly rising and falling while he rolls the condom on.

To his surprise, she gets up and jumps off the desk, taking the initiative by pushing him down back into the chair and straddling his lap. His hands are quick to move to her ass as his cock wedges between her drenched folds. He hisses when she starts rolling her hips, making them both even more feral for what’s about to come.

She leans forward and kisses him, her hand reaching down between them until it finds his cock. She gives him a few lazy strokes to which he hums lowly into her mouth. Then she stops her kisses, lips still brushing against his, eyes meeting again as she lifts herself up just enough to angle him underneath her and then slowly she eases down, letting him enter her inch by inch until she is filled entirely. She gasps at the feeling of her walls stretching around him and they both stop for a few moments, just savoring how perfectly they fit together.

She plants both her hands to the base of his neck, kisses him again and starts moving her hips.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good,” he groans, locking his arms around her, fingers digging into her naked back and side as she starts to slowly pick up her pace, bouncing on him.

When he starts thrusting upwards, meeting her movements, her head rolls back from how deep she feels him inside her, his tip reaching the perfect spot.

“Yes, right there!” she gasps as he buries his head in her neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin while keeping his rhythm. “I’m so close,” she breathes out, her hands raking through his messy hair.

Wanting even more friction she adjusts herself and then starts moving faster and rougher, aching for the release. She looks down, her eyes meet his gaze and she just knows he is as close as she is.

“Harry,” she moans and hearing his name fall from her lips is what pushes him over the edge.

Grunting, his thrusts get rougher and fall out of their fast pace, he pushes into her over and over again as he fills the condom and watching him fall apart helps her let go as well. He feels her walls tighten around him while he is still riding out the afterwaves of his own orgasm, her mouth hangs open, nails digging into his shoulders so harshly they surely leave marks.

Then they both slowly come off their high and she leans forward, capturing his lips in a much softer kiss than the ones they’ve shared just minutes ago. He gladly returns, their lips melt together and his fingers gently roam her naked back while he is still inside her.

They’re quiet when she moves off him and grabs a few tissues to clean herself up while he discards the condom. The clothes are picked up from the floor one by one and a sense of unsureness settles between them as they both get dressed.

She was the only thing on his mind just five minutes ago, but now that the sex haze is gone, his thoughts start racing. What did he do? What will happen now? This shouldn’t have happened but still, he wants to do it again and again and again.

As if she knew he was panicking inside, she steps to him, takes his face in her hands and pulls him into a long, passionate kiss that instantly makes him forget about everything else.

“Don’t overthink it,” she whispers against his lips. “We’re adults.”

“I’m your teacher,” he hums.

“The semester is almost over. Grade my last paper and we’re done,” she simply says with very little care about his current status. But he is not that sold on it just yet, hesitation and worry is all over his face. “Did you not want it?”

“You know how much I wanted it,” he admits defeatedly.

“Great. I wanted it too. And I want it again. So I’ll come by tomorrow again. You’ll bend me over that desk after I had your cock in my mouth, then tell me what grade I’m getting for the semester and we do it again after that.”

He is already feeling himself getting hard again. Deep down he knows he should say no, but he has no will left to fight with himself anymore. So all he does is nod and then kiss her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, professor.” She grabs her coat from the floor and then walks out of his office like nothing happened.

Harry falls into his chair and assesses the mess on and around his desk, staring at the spot where she was sitting not long ago. He knows he is making his biggest mistake ever, but sinning has never felt this good.

And right now he is willing to take this risk.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut

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fangirlmermaid · 4 months ago

Text

You're it for me

Summary: Wanda is sick of being pregnant and her powers took over when she saw you sleep peacefully beside her

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warning: Pregnancy, Cursing, boobs are mentioned (oh no!!), and Pregnancy fetishism (I guess) is mentioned but not played out!

Note: I promise I won't only write pregnant fic or popstar!reader, if you guys have any ideas DM me, I think I have that open. Also another fanfic so quickly???

(Might be some grammar and punctuation errors) (Kind of long)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Like clockwork, Wanda woke up at two in the morning. She sighed in frustration as she felt the twins kicking her.

You and Wanda always talked about starting a family together. She even found a way to make the baby's blood related to you both.

Wanda said she would carry the babies. Ever since the whole fighting Thanos, Wanda wanted to lay low and live a normal life with you (her wife) on your guy’s farm.

Wanda rubbed her eight-month-pregnant belly, hopefully, it would lure Billy and Tommy back to sleep. Wanda couldn’t wait to be a mother but she wanted these nine months to be over. She was tired of always having to go to the bathroom, of something hurting, and not getting a full night's sleep.

Wanda glared at you who was passed out snoring lightly. How dare you rub it in her face that you could sleep without interruptions. You rolled onto your side, your back facing her.

If you both decide to have more kids, Wanda decided that you're carrying them.

Once the babies had calmed down, Wanda placed her hand on your stomach. With Wanda’s swollen belly, it’s been hard to have you close to her. This is how Wanda has been cuddling you since her bump got big. She hates it!!!!

Wanda sighed in frustration when she felt the twins kicking her again. Wanda tried to lean close to your ear “You’re carrying them” Wanda stated for next time. Wanda stayed there waiting for the babies to tire themselves out.

Next Day

Beep Beep Beep Beep You hit snooze on your alarm, in your opinion, the worst part about working on a farm is having to wake up at the ass crack of dawn because you have a shit ton of things to do.

You throw your legs over the bed about to get up, but you stop. You sit there frozen too scared to move. Did something… No, no, that’s crazy.

You were about to get up but that’s when you felt it again, something flutter inside you.

You pulled your quilt off and you gasped at what your eyes laid on. Your stomach was swollen, and your pajama shirt which was originally a little big on you is now bunched up under your boobs.

You rubbed your eyes hoping you were hallucinating but nope, it was still there.

Your shaky finger poked the stomach, and at first, nothing happened. Then you poked it again, and the bump was rocking side to side causing you to jump a little.

Your heart was running, no matter how hard you tried to come up with how it happened it wasn’t logical.

You felt whatever was inside of you hit your ribs hard, almost as if it punched you.

“Ow” You whispered not wanting to wake up Wanda.

You lightly slap the bump which causes it to punch you in the ribs again.

“Bitch!” You yelled glaring at your stomach

“Love, what’s wrong?” Wanda asked

In a panic, you threw the blanket over your shoulder making sure to cover your stomach. You didn’t want Wanda to stress because you love her and it could hurt the babies.

Grabbing the short bed frame to help you up, you felt like someone gorilla glued five sixteen-pound bowling balls to your stomach. “Fuck, it’s heavy” You mumbled placing your free hand under your stomach for support.

You slowly turned around “Nothing baby, go back to sl-”

Your eyes widen, Wanda isn’t pregnant anymore. Like her bump just vanished.

You felt ashamed of how long it took you to figure it out.

You let the blanket slip onto the ground, exposing Wanda to your state.

Wanda’s mouth dropped, she looked down at her flat stomach and then back at you.

Wanda slowly made her way over to you, she was trying to pretend she wasn’t freaking out.

Wanda poked your stomach nothing happened, then she poked again and the twins kicked you hard.

“Fuck” you hissed bending over in pain, Wanda apologized.

“How did this happen?” Wanda asked her eyes staying on the bump, you shrugged “I don’t know! You’re the one with the red wiggly woos!” You whispered yelled.

Realization hit Wanda, she looked down at her hands before giving you a nervous smile. Your shoulder dropped “What did you do?!” You panicked, Wanda couldn’t meet your eyes “Last night Billy and Tommy woke me up, seeing you sleeping peacefully made me mad. So I placed my hand on your stomach while I cuddled you and I said your…carrying…them” Wanda's voice grew quiet your eyes widened and your mouth dropped too stunned to speak “I totally meant for next time!” Wanda explained pointing her finger at you.

You started to hyperventilate. You’re not prepared to give birth, you barely even read the parenting books Wanda bought for you. Your body hasn’t been preparing for the two human beings you're going to be pushing out. What if something happens and you have to go into surgery or you die?!

Also, how are you going to explain to people how you are suddenly eight months pregnant? You always do the socializing part of business so Wanda doesn’t have to!

“Love, Love” Wanda called rubbing your back “You need to calm down” Wanda explained in a hushed tone. You knew she was right but how could you be calm in this moment?

“Wanda, Alan is coming over around lunch to pick up some apples for the farmers market” You stated, Wanda squeezed your arms “Let’s get you back to bed, and I’ll look at the book” Wanda assured. You nodded, Wanda grabbed your hand to ease you back into bed, and she placed a mountain of pillows to support your back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Wanda sat in the kitchen at the dining table flipping through the Darkhold, she didn’t even know what she was looking for.

Deep down Wanda was happy to have a break from being pregnant, she knows that you are right of course but still. There’s a part of her hoping you change your mind to stay that way.

“Ah, shit!” a voice from outside yelled, Wanda look out the window where she found you waddling towards the chicken coop with a basket in your hand. Wanda closed the book “What is she…” Wanda trailed off walking towards the back door.

Wanda walked towards you crossing her arms over her chest “Um, (Y/N)” Your wife called, you let out a soft hmmm while throwing chicken feed onto the ground “What are you doing?” Wanda wondered her voice stern, you kept throwing the chickens their food “What does it look like?” you sassed still focusing on your task. Wanda finally reached you, she pulled the empty basket out of your hands and placed it on the ground “Not resting like you should be” Wanda stated. You faced your wife sighing in frustration, “Wanda I have things to do, I can’t lay in bed” you reminded, Wanda stood behind you placing a hand on your hip and her other hand grabbing your hand “I’ll do the chores, I don’t want you on your feet until I figure out how to undo this” Wanda told guiding her wife back inside the house.

Wanda eased you back into bed “There we go, love” Wanda smiled pulling the blankets up to your chest. You groaned pushing the blanket under your bump “It’s so itchy” you whined scratching your belly, Wanda grabbed the lotion from her bedside table.

Wanda’s eyes landed on you. Seeing you carrying her children made her smile. It also turned her on, but she knew that was the last thing on your mind.

“Baby?” Your voice brought Wanda back. “Sorry, Love.” Wanda blushed, squirting the lotion onto your bump. Billy and Tommy started to move around “Do they ever stop?” You groaned throwing your head against your pillow, Wanda chuckled as she rubbed the lotion into your skin. Wanda loved that she got to take care of you for a change, she could get used to this. Maybe she could brainwash everyone into thinking that you were the one pregnant all along.

“That feels so good thank you, baby” you moaned, your breathing hitched, You were making it harder for Wanda to not go down on you. Wanda could only smile, “I got chores, do you need anything?” Wanda interlocked your hand with hers you shook your head, Wanda gave you a quick peck on the lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pain shot down your back causing you to wake up “Motherfucker” You hissed placing your hand on your back. You opened your eyes seeing that it wasn’t a dream and that you’re still very pregnant. Wanda is a fucking boss for dealing with this shit for eight months.

You stood up hoping a quick walk around the house could relieve the back pain.

After you waddle around the house, you head toward the kitchen where you see Wanda at the dining table flipping through the Darkhold.

Wanda looked exhausted, she had paint smeared on her cheek. She sighed in frustration, she kept drifting to sleep. From growing your babies to doing a shit ton of chores along with researching on how to reverse the pregnancy. You sighed guilt had a grip on your heart, you looked down at your bump placing a hand on it before looking up at Wanda. Your mind was made up.

You entered the kitchen “Hi, Love” You smiled, Wanda rubbed sleep out of her eyes “Hi, love” Wanda gave a sleepy smile. You sat in the chair next to Wanda whose attention went back to the Darkhold, both of you sat in silence. You twist your wedding ring to soothe your anxiety trying to find the nerve to tell Wanda, hopefully she would understand.

You grabbed Wanda’s hand gaining her attention “What’s wrong?” Wanda wondered her voice laced with concern, you gathered your courage “I don’t want you to reverse this anymore” You admitted pointing to the baby bump Wanda knit her eyebrows “What?” Wanda asked, you took a deep breath “You’ve been crushing it at carrying these two. Seeing you in pain hurts me and I wish I could’ve done something to help you. So let me carry them, you deserve a break” You admitted, you knew your little speech was corny but it was the truth, Wanda’s eyes glossed looking relieved “I love you! You are IT for me! We are never getting divorced” Wanda admitted squeezing your hand, you gave a light laugh “I thought that was a no-brainer” You smiled, and Wanda kissed you passionately.

Honk Honk

You pulled away “Alan’s here” You smiled brushing your nose against your wife’s, Wanda groaned before leaving to meet Alan outside.

#wanda maximoff #wanda mcu #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #x pregnant reader #wlw #wanda maximoff imagine #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fluff #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction

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satorusugurugurl · 1 year ago

Text

Stuck in The Middle

Summary: After being cramped in a hot car between your coworkers Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, you learn a very personal detail about their lives, their sex lives to be in fact!

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader x Gojo Satoru

Word Count: 3,031

Warning: Masturbation, threesome, oral sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, Geto’s bangs 🥵

A/N: Someone, totally not me. *bombastic side eye at me reflection* Has been reading/looking at tons of SatoSugu artwork. Again totally not me! This was not my brain worm working against me. . .yeah. . .it was. . .🪱

“Satoru, please, you're on my last nerve.”

“Oh, why? Because I'm breathing? So sorry, I need to breathe, your highness!”

“No, it's because you keep rolling the window up and down! It's hot, and you're letting all the cold air out!”

“Okay, so you tell me how to preoccupy my time? My phone is dead, we're stuck in traffic, and I'm starving!” Satoru turned to glare at his best friend. “If someone hadn't nearly thrown up after swallowing that curse, we could be back at the hotel!”

“I will sic’ one of my curses on you while we're inside the car if you keep testing me!”

“P-Please don't.”

Both Satoru and Suguru seized up, looking down at you. You had been so damn quiet they forgot you were there. You were smashed between the two of them, struggling to breathe. You didn't want to be here. You wanted to go on your own mission. But Yaga had insisted your curse technique for talismans and veils was ideal for this mission.

And your boss wasn't wrong! The three of you kicked major ass, got the job done within a day, and would be staying the night in Chiba before heading back to Tokyo in the morning. That was if you made it to the hotel without Satoru and Suguru killing each other.

Since you left Tokyo, the two best friends have been fighting and arguing. Like they were both on edge, you thought that maybe it was your presence intruding on their space. But they were both civil with you; to each other, it was a different story. They bickered like an old married couple. That was fine at first, but now that they talked about fighting each other? The two strongest sorcerers you knew, yeah, you wouldn’t let that happen.

You sighed in relief as they pulled away, giving you space to breathe. “Oh, Y/N, sorry you're so quiet I almost forgot you were here.” Satoru placed his forearm on your head, leaning in closer to Suguru. “Don't worry about me; I can take Suguru.” Suguru sighed loud enough for the both of you to hear.

“She doesn't want us to fight.”

“Well, not everybody gets what they want.” The words come out like silk as you jerk your head to the side. “Hey!” You don't even have a chance to admire the pout on Satoru as your head collides with Suguru’s shoulder.

“S-Sorry.” This is the only word you can begin to muster as Suguru glances down at you. He gives you a soft, gentle smile, bangs shifting as he shakes his head. A gesture to let you know that you were okay. His eyes slowly open to glare daggers at the other man.

Satoru sighs, rolling his eyes as he turns his attention back out the window. His leg bounces up and down so fast it's vibrating the chair. At least he isn't rolling the window up and down anymore. Maybe the peace would last through traffic. Maybe God would grant you that singular gift.

But God was cruel because the peaceful silence lasted all but thirty minutes. Enough time to get you through the nerve-wracking traffic just as the assistant supervisor pulled up to your hotel. They were the first to get out, rushing to grab Gojo’s luggage from the back. You wanted to join them! To help, but alas, you were still pinned between the two taller men. They were still glaring daggers at the other, waiting to see which would back down first.

There was far too much testosterone in the air for your liking. So you wiggled your way past them, reaching for the door handle. If you had to crawl over their laps to escape to freedom, so be it. A sacrifice you were willing to make! Just as you were getting ready to crawl over Suguru’s lap, Satoru moved.

You let out a little oof as Satoru pressed his whole body against you. You inadvertently fell over onto Suguru’s lap. The dark-haired man’s hands shot up, his thighs tensing at you suddenly collapsing onto him. Before you had a chance to get off or move, you gasped, cheeks flush as Satoru pressed his hips against your ass, poking Suguru in the cheek very aggressively with his pointer finger.

”Does somebody have an upset tummy after swallowing that curse?” The mocking tone of Satoru’s voice nearly makes Suguru grow inaudible. However, it was loud and clear from where you were! Seeing that your face was pressed firmly against his thighs.

Suguru's hand reached up, grabbing Satoru by the front of his jacket, yanking him closer to his face. Which had him pressing his crotch harder against your ass; it felt good. One of your hands flies up to stifle the moan that threatens to escape your mouth as Satoru tries pulling away from his very grumpy best friend.

“Do you have a death wish, Satoru?!”

“No, but I still have your underwear from last week.”

“Yeah, well, I still have your virginity!”

“Mmmph.” You whine, and your hand doesn’t muffle the noise this time.

Both Satoru and Suguru freeze. Their eyes slowly drift towards your body. One hand is gripping Geto’s pants while the other covers your mouth. Your ass is perfectly propped up, right against Satoru. Neither of them can deny how hot you look sprawled out in front of them like this. They exchange a look with each other, while at the same time, you feel Gojo’s cock throb against your ass while Geto’s twitches against your cheek.

Their eyes practically burn holes through your skin, muscles twitching like predators about to pounce. You needed to move fast! Grabbing the handle to the door, you throw it open, crawling over Suguru, hitting the hard pavement with a thump that makes your ears ring. Two large hands grab your jacket, trying to hoist you off the ground and back into the car. Luckily, you’re able to shimmy out of it before you’re caught. You scramble to your feet, bolting for the hotel, ignoring the shouts behind you.

When you’re secure in your room, you plop onto the ground, gasping for air as you stare at the multicolored carpet in shock. Suguru and Satoru were fucking!? Oh God, why did they send you on this mission? It was bad enough having to be stuck between the two of them all day. Now you know details about their very personal and very intimate lives, what the hell were they going to do to you!?

”Stupid Y/N! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” You scolded yourself as you scrubbed your hands over your face. “Stupid body! Is it too much to ask for a not so reactive body!?” You screamed to the heavens, pushing yourself off the ground as you began pacing, biting your thumb as your eyes darted to the wall separating you and Gojo's room. “I-I’ll just act like I never heard it! Yeah, I don’t know who happened to Take the Gojo Satoru’s virginity.”

It was Geto, his one and only best friend, Geto Suguru.

Your mind kept stating that fact all evening. While you took a shower, ordered room service, and as you currently laid in bed. Scowling at the ceiling in frustration, you're tossed and turned. You were trying to think of anything else other than Satoru and Suguru.

Like how nice and comfy your bed was! How would Satoru look pushed into it? The moon was beautiful! Satoru and Suguru would look pretty fucking in the moonlight. Was the heater on? No, it was just you, wanting to be in the middle, to taste and feel each other, their bodies flush against you, like earlier in the car, only with less clothes on.

“Stop it!” you shouted, getting out of bed. “You can't fantasize about your coworkers like this! They said it by accident. Not on purpose!”

Deciding that sleep wasn't an option, you walked towards the bathroom to grab a glass of water. “S-Suguru~” A whiny moan behind the wall had you freezing in your tracks. “Ahh~ s-Sugu~!” you turned your head slowly, eyeing the wall.

“Satoru~”

God hated you. It was apparent that you were being punished for some unknown sin. You pressed your thighs together, staring at the wall for a long moment. Listening to the soft grunts and groans from the two men on the other side of the wall. The bed creaked, enticing you to step closer, to listen to their moans. Your body moved, inching closer to the wall. But before you could you froze. No, this was wrong! You shouldn't be eavesdropping! You should leave as this had nothing to do with you! Before you could turn to go, a sharp inhale caught your attention.

“S-She was so pretty~” Satoru cried out, “ah! I w-wanna touch her.”

“Yeah~ she's so pretty. I would love to have her and you at the same time.” A breathless whine. “Oooh, you twitched, Satoru. You like that idea~.”

You liked that idea.

Forgetting all morals, you strode forward, slowly dropping to your knees and pressing your ear against the wall. “Y-Yeah~ like it~” The bed creaked fast, squeaking under the weight of whatever the duo was doing.

“She’d look pretty stuffed between us~ stuck in the middle.”

You felt your pussy twitch, a silent plea for you to relieve the burning heat building inside you. “Fuck.” A tiny whine sounded in the back of your throat as you slid your hand inside your shorts, rubbing your clit. You imagined being stuck between them. The smell of musk, clean linen, and earthy wood. Put them together, and god imagining their scent lingering on your skin could almost make you cum. “Haaah~” you cry out a little too loud, but you're losing yourself in the fantasy that you don't even notice the creaking of the bed has stopped. “Fuck~”

“I wanna kiss her~” Satoru groans out.

“I wanna kiss her too, on that pretty clit.” Suguru added.

“Yes ~ yeah, I-I want that too.” Your fingers pressed harder against yourself.

“I wanna fuck her while she sucks you off. Same position as when we were in the car.”

“Yeah~ she’d look so pretty choking on me while you fuck her.”

God, they were so lewd! It had you crying out softly, legs shaking as you whimpered loudly.“Fuck!” You cried out, rubbing your swollen clit faster, mouth dropping open at your quickened pace. “Oooh fuck.” Touching yourself is just what you needed. Your fingers were inches from sliding inside, your tight heat. Soon, you’d feel sweet relief.

Knock, Knock, knock.

Three quick taps hit the wall right where your ear was. Hurriedly, you pull away, staring at the wall in shock. A chuckle sounds from the other side of the wall before you hear footsteps heading across the floor, their door creaking open before the same quick knocks sound from your door. Ooooh fuck.

With shaky legs, you stand, heading to the door, slowly opening it. You inhaled sharply as a large hand pressed against it, forcing it open more. Suguru slowly leaned down, his face flushed, his hair a complete mess, and his lips swollen. His sudden closeness had you stepping further into your room.

His eyes took in your own flushed face, darting your legs that you clenched. “So Y/N,” he stepped inside your room, gently grabbing your chin, “you gonna keep playing with yourself? Or do you wanna pick up where we left off in the car?” You failed to find the words, stuttering and stumbling over your traitorous tongue. Suguru smiled gently, tilting his head to the side, waiting patiently for your answer.

Going next door to join them was insane, right? Yes. Were you going to do it? Fucking absolutely.

“Y-Yeah—-I wanna pick up where we left off.”

“Good girl.” Ever so slowly, Suguru brought your fingers to his mouth. His eyes trailed over them, still wet with your slick. “Come on.” He opened his mouth, kissed swollen lips wrapping around your fingers, sucking on them sinfully.

“Holy shit!” You cursed as he swirled his tongue around them.

When he could no longer taste your sweet, tangy essence, he pulled off with a pop. His tongue lolled out, swiping at the corner of his mouth. “We don't want to keep Satoru waiting.”

Everything was a blur, shutting your door and entering their Satoru’s room. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back as he slowly grinned—a smug grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Awe~ you actually came.” Satoru patted the side of the bed, his erection straining against his boxers. “Come sit, sit, noisy girl.”

You plopped down next to Satoru, swallowing as the two men looked over you. “Satoru, she told me she wasn't to pick up where we left off.” The white-haired man perked up, blue eyes glancing at you as he turned.

“You do?”

“Yes.” There wasn't a second of hesitation as you nodded. “Yes, I do!”

“Okay, well, in that case.” Sitting on his knees, Satoru whistled happily as he pulled you up onto your knees with him. “Get into position.” He turned your body so your back was turned towards him.

For a split second, you were face to face with Suguru, sitting at the head of the bed. He winked at you before you were pushed down to present your ass to Satoru from behind. A tiny gasp sounded from your throat as Suguru squeezed at the bulge in his sweats that you were face to face with. A small wet spot formed where his tip was leaking pre-cum against the gray fabric.

“Are you sure you're okay with this?” Thick, long fingers played with the elastic of your pajama shorts.

“Mhmm, I'm positive.”

With a final approval of consent, cold air hit your bare ass as your shorts were yanked down. Hissing at the sudden chill, you focused on Suguru’s hand. It was squeezing the bulge harder; the faintest groans rumbled in his chest. Your hands trailed over his thighs, his muscles twitching as you grabbed his waistband.

“Can I give you a hand?”

Suguru shook his head. “No, you may not.” His words stung, a pout forming on your lips. “You may, however, use your mouth.” You beamed up at him, tugging his pants down, freeing his massive erection that bobbed in the air.

“Oooh, it's so pretty.” Gently grabbing his shaft, you stroked it. “Thank you, Suguru.”

While you took Suguru’s cock in your mouth Satoru slapped your ass from behind, spreading your cheeks, looking at your dripping cunt with a needy groan. “Fuck, she's soaked. Did you get off on hearing us dry-humping Y/N?” You gave a little ‘mhm!’ around Suguru’s cock. “Oooh, what a little perv,” Satoru growled, smacking your ass harder.

“No, she's a good girl.” Sweet sighs left Suguru’s mouth as you peeked up at him. “Such a good girl, look at you sucking my cock~ so good.” One of his hands gently pressed your head, urging you to take more of him, while the other rested behind his head. “Fuck, Satoru, her mouth feels so good.”

You were taking more of Suguru’s cock into your throat when you felt Satoru rubbing the head of his cock over your entrance. Your eyes rolled back as you moaned, the tip of his cock back and forth over your slick folds. He hummed, locking his bottom lip with a smirk. “Yeah, down here feels good too~ she's so wet.” Hot, velvety skin slid up. “So wet I might slip inside.” Your eyes widened as his tip pressed past your tight entrance. “Oops~”

“Y/N~ did Satoru slip inside like he said he would?” You moaned in response, deep-throating Suguru as far as you could, gagging over his length. “Fuuck~ you like it? Being stuffed like this~? Your mouth and your pussy are being put to good use.” your eyes water as he gagged more, Suguru pushing you down to his base. Your nose brushing against trimmed black pubes.

“Nnngh fuck, she's twitching like crazy. She likes it~ no, she loves this~!” Suddenly, you were filled to the brim as Satoru slammed into you, gritting his teeth.

Body twitching, you shut your eyes tight, focusing on breathing as best as possible through your nose. But fuck, it was hard to concentrate as Satoru’s hips began rutting against you at a slow and steady pace. Your moans and gags muffled together as Suguru gently thrusts his hips up into your mouth, a whine.

Both men looked at you for a long moment, watching drool running out of the corners of your mouth and how you began rocking back against Satoru’s clock, begging for more. Their eyes locked, gleaming with a mixture of lust and pure, unfiltered need before Suguru leaned over, kissing Satoru.

His sudden movement had his cock pushing further down your throat. You gagged, pulling back to breathe. “Ah! Ah, fuck!” you cried out, grabbing Suguru’s cock in your hand and stroking him as Satoru began thrusting harder. His grunts slipped into Suguru’s mouth as their tongues melded together. You glanced up, watching as Suguru cupped Satoru’s face in both hands, deepening the kiss as his hips thrust into your hand.

Satoru looked like he was struggling to keep up, hips bucking madly against your ass while his tongue moved against Suguru’s in a way that you knew he liked. There was no fumbling around, just two insanely hot guys making out with you in the middle. Breaking the kiss, you watched Suguru gasp for air, his hair even more messy before he grabbed you by the hair, spanking your head up.

“Enjoying the show?” You whined as you nodded; Satoru was now hitting your g-spot head-on. “Ooh, you getting close?”

“Yeah, s-she—ngh fuck!” Skin slapped against the skin as Satoru leans forward, trailing kisses up your spine. “She's so tight, so fucking tight, she's gonna cum, gonna cum and milk me~! Fuck!”

You jerked your hand faster over Suguru’s spit-slicked cock. Your eyes glaze over as Satoru whimpers over your skin. The sight of the two of you slowly unraveling has Suguru tilting his head back with a snarl. The two of you made the cutest whines and whimpers as the overwhelming tension of a building orgasm twisted in both your cores. He wasn't going to last, not at all.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum.” Suguru yelled, body doubling over, his hand gripping your hair. “O-Open wide~”

“S-Sugu—Suguru!” Satoru watched as his best friend jerked himself madly over your tongue before he shoved his cock into your mouth. “Y-Yeah, fill her mouth, give her that cum.”

Suguru does precisely that; you moan as his cum fills your mouth, thick and salty with just a hint of sweetness to it. He doesn't stop; Suguru just keeps thrusting, moaning, and grunting as he pushes all his cum into your mouth, only stopping when he feels you swallowing around his softening cock. When he looks up from the top of your head, he sees Satoru’s face scrunch up. Eyebrows knitted together as his hips jerk madly against your ass.

“Oh fuck me~ fuck me I'm cummin’ haa ha fuck!” As ropes of cum paint your insides, Suguru quickly reaches down, rubbing your clit as you pull off his twitching cock.

“C-cumming!” Your hoarse voice called out, your hands gripping Suguru’s shirt to steady yourself. “S-Satoru��Sugu—c-cumm—”

“Aaahh fuck!” Satoru grunts out, head falling against your shoulder as you scream, squirting all over him.

He keeps fucking into you, working you both through the waves of your orgasms, pushing you both to the border of oversensitivity. It isn't until you are both trembling that Suguru pulls his hand back, chuckling weakly as his two spent lovers collapse on the bed. He's half tempted to get up, to grab a warm towel to clean all of you off, but he doesn't.

Not when Satoru gently presses his middle and index finger against your chin, turning your head toward him. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.” He leans forward, kissing you softly. You return his kiss, moaning against his lips as he repositions your bodies. You sprawled out under him as he stayed slotted between your legs.

Satoru only breaks the kiss when he feels Suguru climb behind him. He doesn't get to ask what he’s doing because Suguru pushes his head down, encouraging him to kiss you more. Satoru keeps kissing you, eyes going wide as he feels the wet tip of Suguru’s cock pressing against his stretched and lubed hole.

“That’s it, keep kissing Y/N Satoru~ it's my turn to enjoy the show~!”

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pitchsidestories · 4 months ago

Text

under pressure II Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

masterlist | word count: 1829

summary: reader takes it too far in training and must live with the consequences. But no one sees the pressure which is weighing down heavy on her young shoulders.

author's note: dear readers, the oneshot was inspired by this request here, enjoy. In this story Lucy Bronze didn't leave Barcelona. <3

Training had started two minutes ago.

You rushed onto the training pitch, throwing your school stuff down into the grass and quickly slipped into your football boots. You were silently praying to whoever would listen that you would get away with being late.

Right as you stood up and wanted to join the rest of the team, you heard your coachs’ voice from across the field: “That’s strike one, it better not get to strike three.“

You frowned at him. “I’m only two minutes late!”, you protested, frustrated because you had done everything possible to make it to FC Barcelonas trainings grounds in time.

“And she had school.“, Ona added quickly. She had stopped her warm-up to help you out.

You shot her a quick grateful look.

“She knows when training starts.“, Pere replied unusually cold.

You swallowed everything you wanted to say. That it wasn’t your fault. That your Spanish teacher hadn’t let you go at the ring of the bell and that you tried to make up for it by running all the way from the metro station.

You nodded slowly: “We can start now…“

“Good.“, Pere said, turning back towards the rest of the group.

You joined your teammates on the pitch, deliberately ignoring the quick look Ona and Lucy exchanged when they thought you didn’t see them.

You flinched when someones arm suddenly brushed against yours.

“You’re good? No trouble in school?”, Aitana asked you with concern in her voice.

“No, Tana, it’s fine…“, you replied, jogging beside her.

“I’m just asking. You know I can help.“

A small smile tugged on the corners of your mouth. Aitana was always the first to offer her help with school stuff and while you didn’t need it at the moment, her asking meant a lot to you.

“Girls!“, Peres voice called them to the centre of the pitch where he explained your first exercise.

Twenty minutes later, you had your first drinking break. While you sipped on your water, you sneaked a quick look at your phone and quickly replied to a message.

Just your luck, you were caught breaking the team rules once again.

“Y/n!”

You looked up into Peres disappointed face and sighed: “Sorry, it was important!”

“No phones on the training pitch, you know that. That’s strike two.“

“But…“

You had no chance to explain yourself.

“You know that.“, he repeated.

Your frustration reached a new height. In your opinion, you hadn’t done anything wrong. They were small trivial things that didn’t interrupt training, there was no reason to make such a big deal out of it. Especially not after the day you just had.

“Oh, for fucks sake! I know but I also told you that the message was important!”, you exploded.

You and Pere seemed both surprised by the words that had just come out of your mouth.

“Cursing too?”, he asked with a sigh.

You only blinked at him in shock.

“That was very Lucia of her. You can tell she’s living at her place!”, Mapi burst out laughing next to you. You had no idea what was happening around you.

The confusion you felt was reflected in Lucy’s face who turned around to look at the defender from Zaragoza. “Excuse me what?”

“She’s got a point. It sounds like you.”, Ingrid agreed smiling.

“True. They even share a similar glare.”, Keira of all people added in a teasing tone. The English midfielder lived with Lucy and you when you rose from La Masia to Barcelona’s A team. Then they broke up and found new partners, yet you could still sense the mutual respect between them, and both loved you fiercely like you were their younger sister.

“I don’t care where she has it from, you know we’re not cursing on the pitch.”, your coach intervened growling.

“Sorry, I didn’t..”, you apologized trying your hardest not to cry in front of the team. No one should see the invisible pressure which was weighing down heavy on your young shoulders.

“That’s your third strike. Pack your stuff and leave my training.”, Pere demanded, his voice dripping with disappointment.

“Shit.”, you thought to yourself. This day really couldn't have gone any worse. The pitiful glances of your teammates made it even more terrible.

“Now.”, your coach waved impatiently.

“We’ll talk at home, kid, okay?”, Lucy gave you an encouraging pad on the shoulder.

“’ ‘Kay.”, you muttered under your breath.

After you left the training pitch, there was a silence hanging over the team which Ona broke first. “She seemed under pressure, so be nice to her later, Luce.”

“What do you think I’m going to do? Yell at her?”, her girlfriend snorted in disbelief.

“No, we can do that together.”, the younger defender offered kindly.

“Don’t worry, Ona. I know what I’m doing.”, Lucy assured her partner.

“Could the couples get back to training again?”, Pere requested grudgingly.

“Sure.”, the English player nodded.

“He’s in a bad mood today, huh?”, Mapi asked her while they were doing an exercise together.

“Weirdly, he’s.”, Lucy responded but her thoughts circling more around you than your coach. She had to find out what exactly was bothering you so much that you were acting out in training which you never did before.

Once you arrived at home you laid down on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, unmoving, Narla, the dog snuggling on top of you, an hour had passed when you heard the turn of the keys, realizing absentmindedly.

“Oh, hi, Luce.”

The West Highland Terrier immediately jumped off to greet the English woman. You could hear her and Ona talking in the hallway, the Spaniard apparently went to the kitchen to cook coffee for the three of you.

“Hey, kiddo. How are you?”, Lucy asked concerned as you made space on the sofa for her, so she could sit on it too.

“Was he still angry at me when you girls left?”, you returned the question. With a weak smile on your lips, you corrected the older player. “Also, Oni said you should stop calling me like that I’m going to be eighteen soon.”

“I don’t care what Ona says, I’ll stop calling you that when you’re taller than me.”, she shrugged.

You couldn’t help yourself, you snorted at her comment.

“Rude! I’m the same height since forever.“

Lucy grinned: “Bad luck, kiddo.“

Laughing, you pushed her with your shoulder: “You’re so annoying.“

“Now tell me what’s going on with you today.“

Lucys question wiped the smile off of your face, the heaviness returned to your chest in an instant.

There was nothing for a moment, just the ticking of the clock in the background.

“The teachers said I’m good enough for university…“, you finally heard yourself say.

“What?”, Lucy asked, mirroring your exact response when you were told earlier that day. Your brain had screamed at you to be happy about it, that your hard work had payed off and you might be able fulfil your wish of studying. But at the same time, you were filled with dread and worry about the future. There were so many thoughts at once, they were impossible to disentangle.

“But no one in my family studied before…“, you voiced one of your biggest concerns.

You were surprised to see Lucy looking back at you with a relaxed expression.

“Stop overthinking it. This is amazing and you will do great!”

“What? You think so?”

Lucy gave a single, impatient nod: “Yeah of course I think that. If I could do it, you can do it too.“

You let the warmth of Lucys words wash over you.

“Do you think they would be proud of me? My parents?”, you whispered into the silence.

Navigating life was hard enough and it had only gotten harder when you had lost your parents a few years ago. Graduating and going to university might be two other milestones in your life that you wouldn’t be able to share with them.

“I’m sure. At least we’re all proud of you.“, Lucy replied unusually soft.

Ona joined the two of you on the sofa and pulled you in for a hug: “That’s true. God, you’re so smart. Smarter than me at your age.“

“But you’re smart too, Oni.“, you smiled into the crook of her neck.

“Yes, but not book-smart like you.“

“Still.“

Once Ona let go of you, you could breathe a little easier.

“So tomorrow we’ll explain everything to Pere. But for now, Lucy, would you…?”, Ona said.

“Would I what?”

You blinked at her innocently, completing Onas question: “Start cooking?”

Laughing, Lucy ruffled your hair: “Yes, I’ll make your favourite food.“

“Thank you.“, you smiled.

“You’re welcome.“

A year has passed since you had the meaningful conversation with Lucy and Ona. Through the help of your teammates you did succeed, even graduating with honours. This would open many doors for you which you were incredibly grateful for, you certainly didn't take higher education for granted.

To celebrate your big achievement the team prepared a little party in the cafeteria.

“Congrats.”, Pere gave you a warm handshake.

“Thank you.”, you smiled happily.

“You did it.”, Ingrid beamed at you.

“We’re so proud of you.”, Fridolina added in awe.

“Proud indeed. Well done, y/n.”, Alexia congratulated, pulling you into a hug so you couldn’t see her teary eyes. But you noticed them even though she tried to hide her emotional state from you.

“She’s all grown up now.”, Mapi commented delighted before she hugged the two of you who were still standing in the middle of the room. Once you released each other you could feel the heat in your cheeks from all the attention you received.

“She’s still a kiddo to me.”, Lucy threw in with a very pleased smirk on her face.

“Hey, you heard Mapi though.”, you protested.

“Pretty sure you’re still not taller than me, kiddo.”, she countered laughing.

“Does that mean you’re a kid too because you’re smaller than Irene and Alexia?”, you asked her in a teasing tone.

“That’s not what I said.”, the English defender replied.

“I’m just following your logic here.”, you told her. Apparently, Lucy didn’t find an adequate answer to your observation as she swept you off your feed and carried you on her shoulder.

“Shut up.”, she chuckled amused.

“Let me down!”, you urged the older woman giggling.

“Forget it, kiddo.”, she shook her head.

“Ugh. Girls help me!”, you groaned.

“Lucia, put her down. No injuries today please.”, Pere ordered.

“You heard him.”, you whispered.

“Lucky for you.”, Lucy responded while your feet touched the ground again.

“Time to celebrate.”, Ona smiled.

“It’s so sweet of you guys to have a party for me. I wouldn’t have done it without all of you.”, you noted deeply moved by the effort your teammates had put into it.

“You deserve it, enjoy.”, Alexia hummed.

“Thank you.”

You knew you could always count on them, and they could no matter what count on you.

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writingangst · 2 months ago

Text

Friendly Fire

Summary: The aftermath of Simon Riley's paranoia has left the reader with an inner battle of holding onto her anger or making room for forgiveness.

Simon Ghost Riley x Reader

Warnings: mentions of violence and torture, angst, cursing, hurt/no comfort.

Words: 1.3K

Part One

I wasn't planning on posting on this account except for that one off, but since a lot of people liked it, I'm down to give you guys more angst. So, enjoy. (Also, if you want to request anything be sure to message me.)

Whispers and lingering stares were a part of your day to day since you and Ghost got back from the extraction mission. The barracks were filled with theories, the team making assumptions to make sense of the bruising you wore like a collar around your neck. As if you were some damn dog, beaten into submission. You hated every second of being on display and serving as a symbol of what they thought had to have been insubordination.

She must’ve mouthed off to the Lieutenant.

Poor girl was probably put in her place.

Because Simon Ghost Riley couldn’t do any wrong. Surely the woman must’ve misbehaved to deserve being put in a life-or-death situation by someone she trusted. You couldn’t calm the anger that stubbornly sat in your chest. You wanted to scream. You wanted him in the same position you were in. You wanted the fucking bruising to go away so everyone could stop talking about it, reducing you into a fucking victim.

You were a Goddamn soldier.

Ghost on the other hand had been quiet. Even more so than usual. You would catch his eyes roaming the patches of dark purple and blue he painted on your skin from time to time, turning away when he noticed you looking back at him, your expression stoic. You could sense the tension. The regret. The nasty gut feeling assumed to be guilt swallowing him whole.

He’d never felt that way before.

It wasn’t a part of your lives. You got jobs done that would make any normal person weep for years. Trauma so consuming, veteran suicide rates were in increase and violent crimes committed by them going up as well. You had no room for guilt or regret. You were machines. It was in the job description, under the fine print. There wasn’t an option to dwell on things, it was either keep pushing or people could die in your line of work.

Yet Ghost was stuck on that feeling.

And it was becoming harder to ignore. You saw the way his fingers twitched when you flinched from any sudden movement. The quietness that overtook the space when you stepped into any room he was in, like everything suddenly became too heavy to bear. You wanted to laugh from the bitterness of it all. This was the same man that had threatened your life. And for once, it seemed like the monster that made him who he was couldn’t hide behind the skull mask.

You couldn't decide which one was worse though. The silence or the moments you caught him struggling with himself and what he did. But the worst part. The thing that kept you up at night, tossing and turning in a bed that felt more like a grave… Was that you had started feeling sorry for him. For the way his dark eyes would catch yours when you least expected it, as if they were silently begging for forgiveness you didn’t know if you could offer him.

Maybe that was the worst part. There being a chance to be able to forgive, but never forget. Missing his touch and dreading it all the same. The way he tainted something both of you needed. Severing a conection both physical and emotional. Needing him and hating him. It was the same fight within yourself and it made you angry, until you began yearning again. Your own personal hell, a cage he viciously hand crafted to fit you.

I hate you, Ghost.

It was a mantra. Maybe soon you would start to believe it.

But as night fell on the fourth night, the repetition wouldn’t preserve your sanity. The common area was eerily quiet, devoid of any operative in your wing. The faint hum of the overhead light was the only sound as you sat on the worn couch, eyes scanning the documents in your hands. They were sending you out again. A covert operation. Then, the bitter taste of reality hit you again as you saw his name typed out on the call sheet under personnel.

I hate you.

“I’m sorry.”

You jumped instictivley at the sound of his voice, your head jerking in his direction, slightly to your left, standing within the door frame. His words were clumsy, raw, but there was hesitation in his tone. Like he was scared. Scared of what he did, scared of what you thought of him now. The silence between you both stretched like a taut wire, brittle and poised to snap.

For a fleeting moment, something in your chest softened—a crack in the icy wall you’d built between the both of you. But it was brief. So brief. The softness evaporated almost as quickly as it came, replaced by the old familiar coil of tension in your gut. You straightened, pulling your walls back up.

“So, he speaks.”

“I didn’t want to push you,” he said, his gruff accent thick with something unspoken—uncertainty, regret? You weren’t sure anymore.

You laughed bitterly. “But choking me out is fine.”

Your words were sharp and unforgiving. A hard accusation that was meant to hit him in the chest. The tension was unbearable now, like the moment might snap any second. He didn’t move though, didn’t back down. But you saw it—his jaw tightening, his fists clenching at his sides, the way his eyes flickered to the ground. The frustration was there, the guilt too, but he couldn’t seem to find the words. He was struggling, you could see it.

He hesitated. “I fucked up.”

Raw. Unpolished.

But you weren’t so forgiving.

“You think?” You spat back, your voice filled with sarcasm, every word laced with the bitterness you couldn’t shake.

He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to excuse any of it. I was a paranoid motherfucker and I hurt you. I’m sorry.”

His words landed heavier than you expected. You almost wanted to let you anger slip. To take the edge off, to relax into the moment, maybe even believe him. But you couldn’t. You’d betrayed yourself by awarding him with your forgiveness. Your nostrils flared at the turmoil you felt in your chest, your fingers digging into the documents in your hands with a fierce grip as you attempted to counterfocus the tightness.

“I don’t know what to do to make this right,” he confessed, knowing his words weren’t right. And they never could be. They didn’t carry the weight of what he had done. “I rarely ever apologize. If ever.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “So that should make me feel special?”

“Hardly,” he stated, wincing at your sarcasm, the impact of your words sinking into him like a punch. “I’ve made an even bigger mess of this. I can’t fix it. I know I can’t. I just—”

—miss you.

You could almost hear it in the rawness of his voice, in the way he faltered. The silence was heavier with the words he didn’t dare utter hanging there. And that just made the anger swell in your chest. The more he held back, the more it stung, the more it fed your fury. The air felt thick around you. Heavy. Your breath shallow, your chest tight, and every beat of your pulse was a reminder of everything he had done. Everything he hadn’t done.

“Yeah?” You locked your gaze with him, the intensity in your eyes unflinching, your voice colder than you thought you could manage. It was steady, but laced with an undeniable edge. “Well, I fucking hate you, Ghost.”

The words slipped out, more venomous than you intended, but they felt good to say. They felt earned. You could see it in his eyes—the flicker of hurt, the way his shoulders slumped a fraction, as though your words physically struck him. But he didn’t say anything. Didn’t try to defend himself. He couldn’t. Not anymore.

The silence stretched, thick and unbearable, but it was better than what had come before. At least now there was nothing left to say.

Nothing left to break.

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