#slowly getting back into the swing of things!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

carnalcrows · 16 hours ago

Text

All that we leave behind

pairing: gangster ! male OC x male reader [faceclaim]

synopsis: You take a job. It goes to hell. Suddenly you’re bleeding, locked up, and wondering if your daughter will forget the sound of your voice. Then he shows up. Not with lawyers. Not with mercy. With fists, fury, and a plan that involves you, him, and handcuffs. You should hate him. You should run. Instead, you end up in his car, half-naked and shaking for reasons that aren't entirely fear.

You're free now. Kind of.

But someone’s watching. And they know your kid's name.

content warnings: 18+, bottom male reader, violence, blood/gore aftermath, imprisonment, trauma, emotional distress, power imbalance, mafia themes, handcuffs, mild voyeuristic implication (guards witnessing), handjob (reader receiving), p in a, overstimulation, slight dubcon (stress-induced), light darcyphilia, emotional manipulation, Felix being terrifyingly calm, implied threat to child, enemy gang foreshadowing.

word count: 2.4k [pt 1 here]

You wake up to the sound of your daughter humming.

It’s a tuneless thing, low and content, drifting in from the living room—something she must’ve picked up from cartoons or daycare. Your eyes open slowly. Dry. Your body feels like it was chewed up and spat out by something mean.

Sunlight filters in through the curtains. Too soft. Too normal.

You sit up, and everything aches. There’s dried blood under your nails. Not yours. You should shower. You should move.

But instead, you just sit there. Listening to Nora hum.

Eventually, she calls for you. “Daaaad. I can’t reach the peanut butter!”

You scrape yourself off the bed. Pull on clean clothes that still smell like detergent. Walk barefoot to the kitchen, pretending your legs don’t tremble under you.

She’s standing on her step-stool, arms outstretched like she’s reaching for the moon. Her pyjamas are wrinkled and her curls are everywhere, and when you lift her into your arms, she giggles like everything’s fine.

You make toast and slice bananas. She chatters about some picture she drew at Zia’s yesterday. You nod. Smile where appropriate. Laugh, even.

There’s a stack of folded laundry on the table that you don’t remember folding. Your phone buzzes once.

Felix. You don’t check it.

“You look tired,” Nora says around a mouthful of banana. “Did you fight the monsters last night?”

You freeze.

Just for a second. Long enough for her to blink at you, then giggle again, like she’s only teasing. Like she has no idea what you did with your hands last night. What you let Felix do with his.

“Yeah,” you say finally, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “Yeah, baby. I fought ‘em all off.”

“Good,” she says, swinging her legs. “Then they won’t come here, right?”

You want to promise her that. You want to lie.

But outside the window, you spot a black car parked across the street. New. Too clean.

Your phone buzzes again.

This time, you check it.

Felix: Your next assignment will be cleaner. Less blood, more control. You’ll need to be dressed by 10. I’ll send someone.

You stare at the message for a long time.

Then you delete it. And wipe peanut butter off Nora’s cheek.

✧✧✧

You knew it would get messy. You didn’t think it’d end in cuffs.

The job sounded simple enough. A warehouse, a warning, and rough up a guy who’d been skimming off Felix’s money. You’d done worse things for less reason. This time, though… something went wrong.

Too many people inside. Someone pulled a gun. You saw red, then blood. Then cops.

You were still panting, knuckles split and bruised, when they slammed you onto the hood of a cop car. Felix wasn’t there. He never showed.

The precinct didn’t know who you worked for. Not really. They tossed you in a holding cell like you were nothing more than some cracked-out muscle for hire. You said nothing. Not about Felix. Not about Nora. Not even when they tried to bait it out of you.

Your hands were cuffed behind your back for hours. Your shoulder ached from where someone had clocked you with a bat. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the pain was settling in. You were starting to wonder if maybe this was it.

Then he arrived.

Not with lawyers. Not with bribes.

Felix walked into that goddamn prison in a pair of handcuffs—escorted in like he was just another perp. Like he belonged there.

He didn’t look at you right away. He sat across the cell, calm. Controlled. But when the guards left, when the door clanged shut behind them, his voice was low and furious:

“What the fuck did they do to you?”

✧✧✧

You didn’t speak to him the first day.

He was put in the same cell—whether by coincidence or something far more deliberate, you didn’t know—but he didn’t say a word when the bars shut behind him. Just sat on the opposite bench and looked at the wall. Not at you. Not at your bruised face. Not even when you muttered, “You’re a goddamn lunatic.”

On day two, he finally broke the silence.

“Nora’s fine.”

You didn’t answer at first. You weren’t sure you believed him. He looked too calm. Too clean.

“She’s with Claudia,” he added. “One of my best people. She likes her. Drew her a picture of a unicorn yesterday. It’s hanging on the fridge.”

You clenched your jaw and stared at the cracks in the cement floor.

“You could’ve sent someone,” you muttered. “Didn’t have to get yourself locked up.”

Felix didn’t blink. “No one touches what’s mine.”

You weren’t sure if he meant your daughter or you. You weren’t sure which one scared you more.

✧✧✧

By now, you'd memorised the rhythms of the place. The morning announcements. The guards’ footsteps. The shift changes. The guy in Cell 14 who didn’t stop coughing. The way Felix didn’t sleep, just leaned back with his arms folded, eyes half-shut, but always listening.

You were starting to piece it together—how some of the guards looked at him. Not like a prisoner. Like a storm waiting to happen.

“So what’s the plan?” you asked finally, low and quiet. “You gonna break us out with your mind? Or are your guys tunnelling through the sewer system?”

Felix smiled, a soft, humourless curve of his lips.

“I don’t need a sewer. I already own half the staff.”

That wasn’t a metaphor. You believed him.

Still, you asked the one question that had been gnawing at you:

“Why didn’t you come in with your people? Why… this? You walking in here like a goddamn martyr?”

His eyes finally met yours. Sharp. Dark. Unreadable.

“Because I don’t trust anyone else with you.”

✧✧✧

It happened after dinner on the third day.

A guard stopped by your cell with two pairs of handcuffs and a clipboard.

“Cellmate transfer,” he muttered. “You’re being moved together for the night. Orders from above.”

You raised a brow. Felix said nothing, just stood when the cell door slid open.

The guard—bald, tattooed fingers—clicked one cuff onto your wrist, then reached for Felix and snapped the second half onto him. Deliberate. Tight.

Felix didn’t even flinch. But he gave the guy a look— a nod.

The guard slipped you a folded scrap of paper as he left. No one noticed.

You waited until the footsteps faded.

Unfolded the paper. Two words.

Get ready.

✧✧✧

You were moved to a different part of the prison that night. Fewer eyes. More shadows.

Felix hadn’t said much since the cuffs locked the two of you together. Just that slight tug of the wrist every now and then, guiding you down hallways, across the yard, keeping you close without asking. The skin of his wrist brushed yours every few steps. You hated how steady he felt. Like he was used to this.

The paper said “get ready,” but it didn’t say when.

You got your answer after lights-out.

A clatter of metal. A yell.

Then a fist hit your jaw.

You didn’t even see who threw it—some meathead with a busted lip and too many tattoos. He’d been eyeing you since day one. But tonight, he moved like he had permission.

Your body slammed against the wall with the force of the hit, and the only thing keeping you upright was the sharp jerk of the cuff as Felix pulled you back to your feet.

“Mine,” Felix growled. Just one word. Not even loud.

Then his fist met the guy’s face.

Bone cracked.

The next second? All hell broke loose.

The brawl spread like wildfire—fights erupting between inmates, guards shouting, bodies flying. Someone tackled a guard. Alarms started blaring. Felix never let go of your wrist.

“Move,” he said, voice deadly calm, yanking you through the chaos.

You were still dazed—someone else's blood on your face, yours or theirs, you didn’t know—but your legs listened. His grip was firm and unyielding, dragging you through the stampede with surgical precision.

Down one corridor. Around a bend. He knew exactly where to go.

“This way,” he said, ducking into a side door kicked half open. Inside, a guard already lay unconscious, keys still hanging from his belt.

Felix grabbed them without breaking stride.

You blinked. “Wait, he’s not—?”

“One of mine,” he said simply.

Of course he was.

✧✧✧

It wasn’t glamorous. Not some secret hatch in the wall or dramatic rooftop leap. Just a utility tunnel, half-flooded, stinking of rust and mildew. Felix shoved the door open with his shoulder, pulling you through as water sloshed around your ankles.

The cuffs dug into your skin every time you stumbled, and he didn’t stop moving—not until you both reached the end of the tunnel and emerged into open air.

A black car waited.

Engine running.

“Get in,” Felix said, unlocking the cuffs with the stolen key. He caught your wrist as he did, his touch firm but careful. He didn’t say anything about the bruise forming beneath the metal. Just helped you into the backseat like nothing about the past hour had happened.

You didn’t ask who was driving.

You didn’t ask where you were going.

You just sat there, adrenaline flooding your bloodstream, your ears ringing, your hands stained with someone else’s blood. You felt like you were coming apart at the seams.

Felix sat beside you. Close. Too close.

And then his hand slid over your thigh.

“Breathe,” he said.

You did. Barely.

“Good,” he said, voice lower now, sliding into something darker. “Because I need to check something…”

✧✧✧

The car doors shut like a vault locking behind you.

The night was still ringing in your ears—fists slamming into flesh, your own or someone else’s, the way the cuffs had bitten bone-deep, the coppery tang of blood clinging to your teeth.

You didn’t speak. Neither did Felix.

He drove like he wasn’t in a hurry but knew exactly where to go. His hand rested too casually on the wheel, like he hadn’t just broken you out of prison with his bare fists.

The silence stretched. You were still bleeding, somewhere. Or maybe not. Hard to tell anymore.

Then—

“I told you I’d get you out,” he said. Calm. Matter-of-fact. Like none of it was personal. “Didn’t say you’d be okay after.”

You didn’t answer.

You didn’t need to.

He pulled into an alley. Cut the lights. The car’s engine ticked into silence.

And then—his hands. On you. Tugging. Pulling you over the console. Until you were in his lap, straddling his thighs, chest to chest.

Your voice was hoarse. “What the hell are you—”

“You’re not okay,” he murmured, already working open your belt. “I’m going to fix that.”

You could’ve stopped him.

Maybe.

But then his mouth was against your neck, his breath hot and steady, one hand spreading you open like he’d done it before. Like he’d imagined it. Dreamed it. Practised it in his head a hundred times, waiting for this moment.

The first push of him inside you punched the breath out of your lungs.

Not gentle. Not rough. Just inevitable.

You choked on your own voice, grabbed at his jacket like it could anchor you to something real.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, low and wrecked. “Take it. You can take it.”

He kept one hand on your hip, guiding every grind of your body against his, the other hand pressed flat to your back like he didn’t trust you to stay.

You moved with him. Or maybe he moved you.

It was all too much and not enough, and the pain bled into pleasure somewhere along the way. Something in you cracked. Came loose. Maybe it was trust. Maybe it was a survival instinct.

You came first, biting down on his collar to stay quiet.

Felix followed with a grunt, deep and low against your throat, still buried inside you when his grip loosened.

For a while, neither of you moved.

Just the sound of your breathing.

His hand on your back.

Your blood on his shirt.

And somewhere, far away, the question that would haunt you later:

What the fuck did you just let him do?

✧✧✧

You slept like the dead.

You woke up in silk sheets that weren’t yours, wearing clothes that didn’t belong to you. Your body ached in places that weren’t visible, and your throat was sore from silence. The room was dimly lit, clean, and too quiet. A tray sat on the nightstand with a glass of water and a note.

“She’s safe. Sleep. —F”

You stared at the handwriting for a long time.

You didn’t dream. Not properly. Just flashes—steel bars, Felix’s breath on your skin, blood in your mouth that wasn’t yours. Somewhere in between the cracks of sleep, you remembered what it felt like to let go. To not fight back.

To give in.

You didn’t know if it made you weak or just human.

✧✧✧

The next morning, Felix wasn’t in the apartment.

A man you didn’t recognise was seated outside the bedroom door. Not armed. Not hostile. Just… present. He nodded when you walked past him. Said nothing. You got the feeling that if you had asked for a ride to hell, he’d have already started the car.

You found Felix in a high-rise kitchen, sleeves rolled to the elbows, cutting fruit. Like it was a normal Tuesday. Like he hadn’t killed a man in front of you two nights ago. Like he hadn’t had his hand inside you in the backseat of a bulletproof car.

“Sit,” he said, not looking up. “You need food.”

Your stomach churned at the thought, but you obeyed.

He set a plate down in front of you. You didn't touch it.

You did speak, though. “Why are we still here? Shouldn’t we be with Nora?”

Felix paused. Knife mid-air.

“She’s in a safehouse. Out of reach. You showing up covered in blood wouldn’t exactly be soothing.”

You stared at him. “You think this is soothing?”

His jaw tightened—but he didn’t argue. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and slid it across the table.

You hesitated. Then opened it.

There was a photo attached.

A man. Late thirties. Scars down the side of his neck.

The name below the photo made something in your gut clench.

“You’ve heard of him?” Felix asked.

You nodded slowly. “He used to run guns out of Naples. Thought he was dead.”

“He’s not. And he’s been asking about you.”

You looked up. “Why?”

Felix finally met your eyes.

“Because he knows about Nora.”

Taglist: @axetivev @yyuinaa @zaynesyumei @sageofspades @onyxmango @puccigucii @the-ultimate-librarian @sooobiinn @sooniebby @i2innie @tintenka1 @timaas-blog @darlinqvi @horrorsbeyondreality @rednugget @lysanderplume @leron1108 @kauo-writez @the0ishere @calgurl @kissenturine @bleedingbl0ssom @gayaristocrat @hyppernovva [comment to be added, or send an ask]

342 notes · View notes

jeonsweetpea · 3 days ago

Text

Desire Me, Damn Me (teaser)

KPOP Demon Hunters!AU | Jinu x Hunter!Reader

genre: smut, lil comedy, e2l

rating: explicit

description: You’d be damned if you owed that demon a favor. When he asks to meet, you make a salacious deal in exchange for his continued silence. You tell yourself it’s just business, but your denial gives way to a burning desire that makes you question your existence, your purpose, and worse… your heart.

word count: 5k currently, still writing! teaser is 700 words

warnings: cussing, kissing, oral sex (m & f receiving), virgin!OC, sneaky sex, stomach bulge (he’s hung in his demon form okay), balcony sex, it’s vanilla at first… → rough sex, claws, little blood, unprotected sex, creampie, lil comedy, probably more tags soon i dunno

a/n: Think of the reader as Rumi, who is half-human, half-demon! I also incorporated dialogue from the movie in this. PLEASE tell me what you think, enjoy the snippet below!

“Teddy bears and choo-choo trains? Really?”

Unbelievable. You’re on your knees on a rooftop of all places, trying to provide him a service, and all he can focus on are your pajama bottoms?

You look up at him with your mouth agape, stunned to silence. He closes his fist like he’ll pump it, but his voice suddenly drops to a whisper.

“Choo-choo…” he breathes, moving his fist slowly up and down.

Your confusion twists into a menacing scowl. As you extend your wrist, your hunter’s sword is summoned from an intricate swirl of neon blue and violet light beams. Once it materializes, you thrust it upwards with an aggressive grunt.

“Whoa!” the demon yelps as he dodges in the nick of time.

You stand up and lash out, swinging the blade in unpredictable arcs. Yet he evades each attack with infuriating precision, as if it were a dance.

“I could’ve told your friends what you are,” he reminds you as you slam your sword in a vertical slash. Unfortunately, he’s already vanished, disappearing into a swirl of magenta mist.

You turn around, scanning the rooftop in its entirety for him. Its four ridges form a square perimeter, rising sharply and dipping inward to a hollow courtyard. The ridge he stands on is directly opposite yours—a narrow spine of curved, blue tiles, providing just enough distance between you to make an attack impossible.

“But I didn’t, did I?” he continues, his voice cutting through the silence. “Because they don’t know.”

A low growl bubbles in your throat, but you swallow it, opting for revulsion.

“And I intend to keep it that way. Even if it means making a deal with someone like you.”

He paces along the ridge, arms loose by his sides. You match his steps, walking in tandem, balanced upon the narrow spine of the roofline.

“Someone like me?” he replies, a sharp edge in his words. “We’re the same. You’re a demon girl. A hunter. Hiding, walking around free in the human world.”

“Just hunter,” you correct, “not demon.”

He stops walking, looking back over the ridge. “Then how’d you get the patterns?”

Demons bear intricate marks across their skin—violet “patterns.” Did he expect you to dump your life story about how your mother was a hunter and your father was a demon?

You halt your steps, feeling your chest tighten. “That’s none of your business.”

His eyes soften, like he’s pitying you. It fuels your anger further. “I know what it feels like to have them.”

“Feel?” you spat. “You’re a demon. Demons don’t feel anything.”

He gives you an incredulous glare at the assumption. “Is that what you think? That’s all demons do. Feel our shame, our misery.” His wallowing in self-pity is brief, and a smirk soon breaks through, erasing his previous vulnerability. “Our… lust.”

You tighten your grip on the blade. “Don’t misunderstand. This is simply a business meeting, not lust.”

“Oh? You could’ve offered me anything for keeping your secret,” he says with a teasing lilt. “Yet the first thing that you came up with was giving me a blowjob.”

You roll your eyes. “To get ahead is to give head, or whatever the saying is.”

He brings his hands together in a slow, deliberate applause. Though surprise glints in his eyes, he doesn’t flinch. “Wow… in all my 400 years of living, I’ve never heard such a saying. You’re horny.”

Words catch in your throat as you rack your brain to formulate a proper comeback.

“No! I wasn’t thinking! Besides, you accepted the offer!”

He arches a brow. “Because you told me to shut up and take my pants off. Was I not supposed to obey?”

“You can forget about it now,” you huff.

He shrugs, kicking at some loose debris on the shingles. “That’s fine with me. You’re not my type anyway.”

“What?! I’m everyone’s type!”

“So you offer this… salacious little deal to just anyone?” His low chuckle makes every nerve in your body ignite. You stiffen your stance, clutching the blade handle like your life depends on it, while he strolls across the ridge. The distance between your bodies closes until your sword rests against his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

He leans in just enough for the blade to kiss the fabric of his hoodie.

“Do it.”

Current Tag List:

#kpop demon hunters #jinu kpop demon hunters #jinu smut #jinu x reader #jinu x you #teaser #my writing

185 notes · View notes

zulashi-the-writer · 1 day ago

Text

A Fever Dream

Romance x Girlfriend

Credit goes to therosettasun on TikTok

Summary: to love but never to forget, how could someone claim to love you but disappear when you needed them most

1st/2nd person pov

His eyes stared out into the crowd emotionless at the screaming fans, the bittersweet smile plastered on his lips as he blew out hearts then his eyes caught it the glimpse of something familiar, his heart fluttered seeing the sway of your hair, it couldn't be you, could it? He didn't get time to check as the red mist wrapped around his body taking him back to the demon world.

He couldn't get you out his head the thought of his past life resurfacing, all the memories flashing in front of his eyes, oh how he'd do anything to be back in your arms, to feel your warmth and hear your angelic voice say his name, but the remembrance of old memories comes fondness but also regret.

He'd look for you everywhere, hoping you'd be there looking straight back at him but you never were, all the girls screaming for his attention none of them could compare to you, he yearned to feel like that one more time to feel loved by you.

He decided to sneak away after the idol award trails following the exact route he used to take, his heart ached as he saw your favourite restaurant with a for sale sign blocking the door and the small playground you used to take him to sit on the swings with hazard warnings all over and the gate chained shut.

He wandered through every ally way, remembering everything that happened and watching the memories like an hallucination, from the kitten you found and nurtured cradling it in your arms keeping it from the rain to where you stood shouting at him when you were fighting, he was so lost in thought but his feet moved so perfectly knowing exactly where they need to go.

He looked at all the old things you pointed out when he'd walk you home, the neighbourhood kids that always played games on the sidewalk you boasted how the kids you would have together would win every single one, but the kids were no longer there they'd all probably in their teenage years now, a lump started forming in his throat as he started nearing your house.

He didn't even know you still lived there maybe it was his imagination playing tricks on him, maybe it was Gwi-ma being cruel, he tried swallowing the lump in his throat he peered around the corner his eyes softening as he saw your house, his heart fluttering as he saw all the modifications you spoke about, the beautiful colour garden that was maintained modestly, his steps faltered as he came to the path leading up to the door.

His eyes wondered over the porch, his eyes caught sight of the small engraving he made on the banister it was your initials in a heart his eyes squinted seeing another initial added he rolled his shoulders the feeling of uncertainty feeling him up once more, his eyes moved as he slowly stepped closer he saw the shoes he brought you for your birthday settled by the door frame he remember how you always wanted them but didn't have the money, his brows knitted together seeing pink kids show next to them, did you have a kid?.

A feeling of jealousy filled him, you found someone else? his eyes fluttered in sadness, he lifted his hand to knock on the door but his body froze what is he supposed to say 'oh I made a selfish deal with a demon king that's why I left you' he bowed his head in distress his eyes bolting up as he heard the click of the door his breath hitching as it opened, he didn't dare to blink scared that he was going to blink and you'd be gone.

"Yn" he watched your face panic, your chest raising up and down due to your shallow breathes "it's me" his voice was low just above a whisper he watched your eyes squint your eyes filling with curiosity then sadness "it can't be" your voice cracked your head turned as small footsteps charged towards you "mama" you bent down picking up your little girl keeping her close in your arms, Romance stood shocked seeing this little child with pink hair similar to his "is she..." the words caught in his throat.

Even you didn't know what to say he disappeared never said goodbye now he's here "uh-yeah" I murmured before whispering her to go play in the back she nodded quickly and ran off as I put her down "where did you go" I tried sounding emotionless but my sadness showed I hugged myself giving me a little comfort "I made a deal with a bad person" his voice dwindled "I'm so sorr-"

"No" I muttered interrupting him "you don't get to apologise, you left me when I needed you" I paused catching my breathe the anger boiling up in my chest "we needed you" I dropped my head to the ground tears streaming down my cheeks, my eyes stared at the ground fill of anger and confusion "why" I asked but he didn't answer I looked up glaring at him "why" I yelled pushing him making him stumble back.

He stared at me not saying anything his mouth opened and closed silently, he stood up straight composing himself "if I could go back in time I would my love, I never wanted to hurt you" his voice was soft holding so much emotion "but you did you weren't there you hurt me, hurt us" I shook my head weakly my body collapsing to the ground his body colliding with mine as he caught me holding me against him "I wish I was I swear, I've missed you every day" his tears slipped down his cheeks falling onto your hair.

My fists balled up his shirt as I pressed my face into his neck, my tears wetting his shirt "you left us" my words were hushed as he stroked my hair like he used to when I was stressed "I know" he said his voice breaking his lips shakily pressing a soft kiss against my head before taking in a shaky breath.

"I promise to never leave you again"

161 notes · View notes

uconndallas · 3 days ago

Text

Name: Buzzer Beater Kisses

A/N: Hi guys! So im finally back I took the past couple of days to come up with some one shots. From the poll I posted it was pretty obvious you guys wanted this one first, dw for the people who voted the other two those will be posted in the coming days. Again tysm for reading! <3

Pairing: Paige Bueckers & Azzi Fudd

The gym hums with quiet. The overhead lights buzz faintly, and the polished hardwood reflects a soft glow. Everyone else has gone home. But Paige and Azzi? Still here.

Of course.

This is their thing. Post-practice shots. Trash talk. That razor-thin line between rivalry and something that neither of them wants to name yet.

Azzi stands at the top of the key, spinning a ball idly in her hand, her braid sticking to the back of her neck from lingering sweat. “You gonna shoot, or are you just admiring the floor?”

Paige, sitting on the scorer’s table with her legs swinging, grins. “I was waiting for the right moment. Like any good clutch shooter.”

Azzi smirks. “Clutch? You missed three in a row five minutes ago.”

“Those were warm-ups.”

“That’s what they all say.”

Paige hops off the table and catches a pass from Azzi without looking. There’s something in the way she moves loose, confident, like she owns this court. Like she was born on it.

“Okay,” Paige says, dribbling slowly toward the three-point line. “Let’s make this interesting.”

Azzi raises an eyebrow. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Paige counters, turning to face her. “You’re down three. Clock’s ticking. No timeouts. Make the shot, and you win. But—” She spins the ball once in her hands. “—if I make it, I get something.”

Azzi folds her arms, curious. “And what exactly do you want?”

Paige walks in closer, the ball now cradled in her arm. She meets Azzi’s eyes dead-on. “A kiss.”

Azzi blinks. Once. “You’re not serious.”

Paige just raises an eyebrow. “Try me.”

Azzi’s throat tightens. She’s not flustered easily, but Paige Bueckers has this uncanny ability to get under her skin and make it feel like a massage instead of a splinter. She doesn’t want to give Paige the satisfaction. But she also really, really wants her to make the shot.

She steps back, dropping the ball and rolling it to Paige with her foot. “Alright. Game on. You make that shot before the buzzer, and…” she shrugs, casual, “you get your kiss.”

Paige’s grin is electric. “You’re going to regret this.”

“I really don’t think I will,” Azzi says, but her voice is quieter now. Lower. The air between them is buzzing.

Paige picks up the ball, walks toward half-court, and nods toward Azzi. “You count me down.”

Azzi glances at the scoreboard that isn’t even turned on and holds up her phone, starting an imaginary countdown. “Eight seconds.”

Paige begins her dribble.

“Six…”

She crosses over midcourt, slow, relaxed.

“Four…”

A jab step. She fakes a drive, pulls back behind the arc, maybe two steps.

“Two…”

Azzi watches, heart hammering.

“One.”

Paige pulls up, smooth as water.

The ball arcs high, spinning slow like it knows the stakes. Azzi’s breath catches. The gym goes silent, even the buzz of the lights seems to hush.

Swish.

Clean. Perfect. Nothing but net.

Paige holds her follow-through, eyes still on the hoop, like she knew it was going in before she even let go.

Azzi stares. “No. Freaking. Way.”

Paige finally turns, cocky grin fully activated. “Told you.”

Azzi walks toward her, trying to pretend her stomach isn’t doing a full gymnastics routine. “You really hit that.”

“I always hit when it matters.”

They’re standing close now. Closer than before. Close enough to feel the heat coming off the other, to hear the breath catch in their throats.

“So,” Paige says, voice a little quieter now. “You owe me something.”

Azzi tilts her head, eyes on Paige’s lips, then back up. “That was the deal, huh?”

Paige nods, a little more nervous than she wants to show. “Yeah.”

Azzi reaches up and gently grabs the front of Paige’s practice jersey, pulling her in. “Then come collect.”

And she kisses her.

Not a peck, not a tease. A real kiss. It starts soft, but there’s months of tension behind it. Late nights in the gym. Lingering touches during drills. Jealous glances when someone else made the other laugh too hard. All of it right here, right now.

Paige melts into it instantly, her hand sliding to Azzi’s waist, grounding herself.

Azzi pulls back from the kiss, dazed in the best way. Her heart is thumping like it’s still the fourth quarter of a championship game.

But Paige?

Paige is already smirking like she just won a ring.

“That was definitely worth three points,” she murmurs again, her voice low and smug, her hand still lightly gripping Azzi’s hip like she belongs there now.

Azzi raises an eyebrow. “So what you gonna retire off one buzzer beater?”

Paige blinks innocently. “You think I can’t do it again?”

“Oh, I know you can’t do it again,” Azzi says, backing away with a dangerous smile. “One for one’s cute. But two for three? That’s elite status.”

Paige’s eyes narrow, the competitive spark reigniting instantly. “Okay. Best two out of three. Same stakes?”

Azzi pauses like she’s thinking, even though she already knows her answer. “Nope. New stakes.”

Paige tilts her head. “I’m listening.”

“If I win,” Azzi says, stepping back to grab a ball from the rack, “you’re cooking me dinner. And not your pathetic microwave mac and cheese. Like, real food.”

Paige gapes. “That’s low.”

“And if you win…” Azzi tosses the ball to Paige, cocking her head, “then I’ll stay over.”

Paige catches the ball then freezes.

Azzi sees the change immediately. Paige’s teasing smile softens, like the weight of what that means settles in her chest. It’s not just a joke anymore. Not just a kiss or a dare. It’s real now. A choice.

“You’re serious?” Paige asks, her voice quiet.

Azzi shrugs. “Are you?”

Paige spins the ball once in her hands and breathes out slow. “Always.”

Azzi grins. “Then get to work, Bueckers.”

Round Two:

Paige lines up again, this time just beyond the elbow. Azzi tosses a lazy countdown over her shoulder, pretending not to watch but she’s watching. Every move. Every breath.

“Five… four… three…”

Paige steps back and fakes left, then fades right just for flair.

“Two… one…”

She releases.

Clank.

It bounces hard off the rim and rolls toward the corner.

Azzi bursts out laughing. “Ohhh no! Guess I better start looking up pasta recipes!”

Paige groans dramatically, dragging her hand down her face. “That one was in. The rim moved.”

“Sure it did.”

“Rigged,” Paige mutters. “This whole gym’s rigged.”

Azzi is beaming now, spinning the ball between her palms. “You’re just mad because you choked under pressure.”

Paige eyes her. “That’s funny. I don’t remember you hitting anything yet.”

Azzi dribbles once. “That’s ‘cause I don’t miss.”

Round Three:

The gym is quieter now. The lights buzz, the echo of bouncing basketballs long gone. Azzi’s fingers feel cold on the ball even though her pulse is racing.

She steps back behind the arc.

“No countdown,” she says.

Paige crosses her arms. “You sure?”

Azzi looks at her, eyes bright. “Yeah. I’ve got all the time in the world.”

She squares up, breathes in, and releases.

It’s perfect from the second it leaves her hands.

Swish.

No rim. No hesitation.

Just net.

She turns back, smug. “Better start boiling water, chef.”

Paige walks up to her slowly, stops just close enough to make her nerves flutter again. “I’m not mad,” she says. “That shot was… kind of hot.”

Azzi smirks. “Yeah? You like that follow-through?”

“Shut up.”

They’re laughing again, but this time it’s softer. Easier. Something’s changed not in a dramatic way, but in a quiet, solid kind of way. The kind that settles between people who know they’ve just taken a step they can’t walk back from.

Azzi nudges her. “You gonna get your revenge next practice?”

“Oh, definitely,” Paige says. “But first… what kind of pasta do you like?”

Azzi smiles, warm and honest. “Surprise me.”

They gather their things slowly, shoulder to shoulder. The gym lights flicker once before dimming, but neither of them notices they're already halfway out the door, fingers brushing, hearts light, and kisses still lingering on their lips.

As they step into the cool night air, Paige looks over, a little shy for once. “So… you really staying over?”

Azzi glances at her and grins. “I don’t make bets I’m not ready to win.”

They walk in silence to the car. It's not awkward more like a held breath they’re both slowly letting out. Paige drives. Azzi leans her head back, watching the streetlights paint soft stripes across the dashboard. There’s no music, no small talk. Just this: the steady hum of something new starting to root.

Dinner would have to wait. Right now, this them was enough.

It’s late.

Too late for a post-practice hangout. Too late for casual.

But neither of them has said that out loud.

Paige’s apartment is quiet when they walk in. She drops her keys in the bowl by the door like always, but now her fingers linger, like she’s suddenly aware of the weight of every little thing.

Azzi follows behind her, hoodie zipped up to her chin, hair tied back, backpack slung low. She looks like herself but everything feels different now.

Paige turns back. “You still good to stay?”

Azzi nods without hesitation. “Yeah. You?”

Paige smiles, soft. “Yeah.”

There’s a pause. Not awkward, just… charged.

Azzi glances around. “You want me to sleep on the couch or…?”

“No,” Paige blurts. “I mean uh, no. You can take my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

Azzi tilts her head. “You seriously think I’m letting you sleep on that ancient thing?”

“It’s not that bad.”

“It’s shaped like a U, Paige.”

“I like the U!”

Azzi just looks at her.

Paige fidgets. “Or… we could share?”

The silence that follows is heavy, but not uncomfortable. Just full.

Azzi doesn’t break eye contact. “You sure?”

Paige nods slowly. “Yeah. I want to.”

She’d been clutch on the court a thousand times, but this opening herself up like this felt like the real shot she couldn’t miss.

That does something to Azzi. Her expression softens the tension in her jaw relaxing, her shoulders dropping just enough to show she was holding onto something tighter than she let on.

They brush teeth in awkward tandem, bumping elbows at the sink, giggling quietly like kids at a sleepover. Paige hands Azzi one of her UConn shirts to sleep in it’s huge on her, hangs past her shorts, and Paige pretends not to notice the way it makes her chest flutter.

Lights off. Door closed. The bed creaks gently as they climb in on opposite sides. The space between them is only a few inches wide, but it feels like a chasm.

“Night,” Paige whispers.

“Night,” Azzi murmurs back.

It’s quiet. Too quiet.

Azzi shifts under the blanket. “Hey, Paige?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve never done this before.”

Paige turns her head, just a silhouette in the dark. “Stayed over?”

Azzi’s voice is a little smaller now. “No. I mean this. With someone I actually care about.”

That hits Paige straight in the chest. “Yeah,” she says softly. “Same.”

A beat passes.

Then Paige scoots a little closer. Her hand brushes Azzi’s under the blanket, tentative. Waiting.

Azzi laces their fingers together.

Paige’s breath catches.

They lie like that for a while, just holding hands in the dark. No talking, no teasing. Just quiet, shared heartbeat space.

Then, soft as a whisper: “Can I… hold you?”

Azzi doesn’t answer with words. She just shifts closer, rolling to face her, and tucks her head beneath Paige’s chin like she’s done it a thousand times before.

Paige’s arm wraps around her naturally. Their legs touch. Their chests rise and fall together.

It’s not sexual. It’s not rushed. It’s just them.

Raw. Honest. Close.

“I was scared,” Azzi whispers. “That if we ever did this if I let it happen it’d ruin what we had.”

Paige presses a kiss into her hair, slow and sure. “We’re not ruining anything.”

Azzi closes her eyes. “Feels like the start of something, doesn’t it?”

“It is.”

And maybe that’s the real buzzer beater. Not the kiss. Not the shot. But this the courage to show up when it’s quiet. When it’s messy. When it’s real.

They fall asleep like that. Wrapped in each other, in something new.

Something that doesn’t need words anymore.

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #paige x azzi #pazzi #pazzi fics

270 notes · View notes

nimbusclan · 21 hours ago

Text

Moon 9 Part 2

[Previous] [Start] [Next]

There’s a sickening crunch and Moonstar’s body suddenly stops, lurching in the air.

Panting, Moonstar tightens the grip of her right paw – she’s managed to sink her claws into a thick root that is growing through the side of the cliff. She’s dislodged it a bit – that must have been the cracking sounds – but it holds fast to the cliffside and Moonstar doesn’t hesitate a second longer.

Gathering all of her strength, she swings her other paw up to sink her claws into the root, shoulders shaking as she pulls her body up. Her back paws windmill in the air until she’s able to find purchase on the cliff, digging her back claws into the rock and dragging herself up onto the slope.

Shaking all over and sick with adrenaline, Moonstar’s aching limbs want nothing more than to collapse out from under her. She flexes her claws in the loose gravel under her paws and eyes the dirt warily, as if it’ll suddenly heave forward and send her sailing over the edge of the cliff again. Muscles screaming, Moonstar moves her shaky, aching body to firmer ground.

Safe for the moment, she slumps at the base of a pine tree and shakes.

She almost died.

Quest for moss entirely forgotten, the only thought Moonstar can dredge up is the idea of getting back to her brother and collapsing against him, taking comfort in his familiar scent and his solid, grounding presence at her side. She’d assured Fogfreckle just last moon that she could handle being on her own, but now she’s not so sure she’s going to survive the hunt for a new home without him.

Ignoring the sharp ache of pain in her shoulder where she caught the root that saved her life, Moonstar struggles to her paws and slowly sniffs out the trail she took to get here, retracing her pawsteps through the fog and back up the mountain.

Limbs dragging, a wash of relief splashes Moonstar like ice melt on a hot day as she spots the clearing where they’ve scraped out their dens. Through the trees and the mist, she can just make out the light color of her brother’s dappled pelt moving around in the clearing. There’s something dark swinging from his mouth, likely freshkill, and, feeling relieved, she pulls herself through the trees and towards him.

Only pawsteps away, Moonstar opens her mouth to greet Fogfreckle, but stops in her tracks.

It’s not freshkill.

“Moonstar!” Fogfreckle’s ears flick back a second before he turns at the sound of her arrival, eyes bright and shining with happiness. “Look what I found while I was out collecting moss!”

Tucked at Fogfreckle’s paws is a kitten. A skinny thing, with short, raggedy brown fur and dark, reddish tabby stripes.

Moonstar’s relief swiftly vanishes.

The kit is quiet, motionless, almost expressionless, but it stares at Moonstar like it can see through her, past her pelt and muscle and down to her bone. Unnerved, Moonstar meets its intense bright blue eyes with her own. They’re not cobalt blue, like her brother’s, or ice blue, like her own. They’re an otherworldly blue.

She’s snared by that unblinking, unwavering gaze, and something about it seizes Moonstar with a feeling of pure, crawling dread, like somebody has set ants loose in her pelt. The kit sits neatly with its tail curled over its paws, still and silent unlike any kit Moonstar has ever interacted with before.

She feels rooted to the spot, as if to make any move closer to her brother – closer to the kit – would be dangerous, somehow.

Fogfreckle grins, wide and happy, apparently unaffected by whatever has taken hold of Moonstar. He bends his head to give the kit an affectionate lick atop the head. “I’m going to name him Alpinekit.”

[Previous] [Start] [Next]

#god i know the perspective isn't perspective-ing but bear with me #I did sorta rush this one to get it done before artfight so y'all wouldn't have to wait #so it's a bit rough around the edges #oops I just realized I messed up the color of Fog's text bubble at the end but I'm not going to bother fixing it #but YAY NEW CAT NEW CAT NEW CAT!! FINALLY #moon 9 #nimbusmoon #moonstar #fogfreckle #alpinekit #clangen #warrior cats #wc oc #waca

177 notes · View notes

kpop-reactions-povs · 3 days ago

Text

Stray Kids- S/O initiating affection for the first time

Bang Chan

He’s always so gentle and understanding, never pressuring you. But when you finally slip your hand into his while you’re both walking, he stops mid-step. His eyes flick down, then slowly rise to meet yours — soft, a little wide with surprise. Then comes that beautiful Chan smile.

“You’re holding my hand…” he murmurs like he can’t believe it, squeezing your fingers gently. “I’ve been dreaming about this.”

He doesn’t let go for the rest of the day. He even starts swinging your hands playfully like a dork.

Lee Know (Minho)

You shyly hug him from behind while he’s cooking or scrolling through his phone. He freezes for a split second, then you hear him chuckle.

“Well, well… Look who’s finally gotten bold,” he teases, turning around to face you with a raised brow.

But then he sees the blush on your cheeks and that bashful smile — and he softens instantly. He leans in and pulls you closer, whispering,

“Don’t stop now. I really, really like this.”

🐿 Changbin

You lean in and kiss his cheek out of nowhere — the first time you’ve ever done something so forward. His whole face goes red immediately.

“Y-Yah…! You— You just—”

He stumbles on his words before pulling you into a bear hug, hiding his face in your shoulder.

“You can’t just do that and expect me to survive… You’re too cute.”

He’s shy about it for the rest of the day but brings it up every 10 minutes with the biggest grin.

Hyunjin

You’re usually a bit reserved, but one evening while watching a movie, you quietly rest your head on his shoulder and lace your fingers with his. He stops breathing for a second, glancing down at your hands like he’s trying to memorize the moment.

“You… initiated that?” he whispers softly, his voice almost breaking.

He turns to you with glistening eyes, smiling like you’ve just given him the world.

“I’ve been waiting for this. You don’t know how happy you’ve made me.”

He strokes your hair and presses the gentlest kiss to your forehead.

Han (Jisung)

You grab his hoodie and pull him in for a quick, shy kiss on the lips. He just… stares. Wide-eyed. No words. Just blinking.exe.

“DID YOU JUST—ARE WE DATING FOR REAL NOW!?”

Once he recovers from the shock, he becomes super clingy, constantly asking if he can kiss you back now, grinning like a puppy. He won’t stop replaying it in his head and smiling like a fool all day.

Felix

You suddenly hold his face in your hands and kiss his nose — gently, sweetly, then smile up at him. He literally glows, eyes sparkling with emotion.

“Oh my gosh… You did that. You really did that…”

He pulls you into the softest cuddle ever and wraps his arms around you tightly.

“That was the cutest thing in the entire world. Can I keep you forever?”

He’ll whisper sweet things to you for hours, cuddling like you’ve always belonged in his arms.

Seungmin

You’re usually reserved, but today you grab his hand during a walk. He glances down, then up at you with a little smirk.

“Wow… look who’s getting bold today,” he says teasingly.

But the way his thumb softly rubs circles on your knuckles gives away how much it means to him. Later, when you’re not looking, he smiles to himself and replays the moment a thousand times in his head.

I.N (Jeongin)

You unexpectedly sit close beside him and lean your head on his shoulder while you’re playing games or watching something. He stiffens for a moment, then you hear him giggle nervously.

“Wh-What’s this? Are you feeling okay?” he jokes, clearly freaking out in the best way.

He turns red from ear to ear but rests his head against yours, whispering,

“I was hoping you’d do that one day.”

Later, he might sneakily brag to the other members like: “Guess who initiated affection first… not me!”

#skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids

153 notes · View notes

lumosflairr · 2 days ago

Note

Can I request a fic where George gets knocked out in quidditch practice and reader aka his girlfriend runs to check on him he's all confused and dizzy and flirts with her? Like those memes "hey girl you got a boyfriend?" "You are my boyfriend" "hEelL yeAH"

Dazed and Devoted - George Weasley

summary: George gets knocked out during Quidditch practice. When he wakes up, confused and concussed, he flirts with his girlfriend like he’s never met her before. And honestly? It’s kind of adorable.

warnings: none!

Word Count: 1.5k

Fred and George were showing off, as usual, turning every drill into a competition. You were perched in the stands, legs swinging off the edge as you watched George zip around the pitch like he hadn’t a care in the world. You’d told him earlier to please not die today, and he had given you a wink and said, “No promises, love.”

Typical.

Oliver was barking out orders below while Katie and Alicia ran plays overhead, but your eyes stayed on George. He always looked so alive on a broom, golden in the sunlight, wind-tossed hair everywhere, laughing like there was nothing else in the world to worry about.

And then—just like that—it changed.

One moment he was banking left to avoid a Bludger, and the next—

WHAM.

Bludger to the head. Clean hit.

You heard the thud before you saw it. George spun midair like a ragdoll, his broom zigzagging before he tumbled off and hit the grass with a dull, sickening sound.

“GEORGE!” you screamed, dropping your notes and sprinting from the stands before Madam Hooch could even react.

By the time you reached him, he was flat on his back, eyes half-lidded, a crooked smile on his face like he had just had the best dream of his life. He blinked up at you slowly.

“Hi,” he said, voice drowsy and slurred. “Are you an angel?”

“George—Merlin, George, are you alright?” you asked, dropping to your knees beside him, brushing back his hair to check for blood. “Fred! Someone get Madam Pomfrey!”

He blinked again. “Whoa. You’re really pretty.”

You froze, eyes narrowing. “Okay, yeah. He’s definitely concussed.”

George propped himself up slightly on his elbows and squinted at you, like he was seeing you for the first time. “Hey… hey, uh, do you have a boyfriend?”

You stared at him. “Seriously?”

He grinned goofily. “Because if not, I’m available. Just saying.”

You bit back a laugh. “George, I am your girlfriend.”

His face lit up like a Christmas tree. “No way. For real?”

“For real.”

He pumped a lazy fist into the air. “Hell yeah.”

Fred, who had just run over, nearly tripped over himself laughing. “He’s either dying or just scored the best news of his life.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Both, apparently.”

George reached up and gently patted your face, missing your cheek and hitting your chin instead. “You’re so soft. Have I told you you’re soft?”

“You’ve told me lots of things, love. Most of them nonsense.”

“Bet I said them real smooth though.”

Fred muttered, “He flirts better concussed than I do fully functioning,” earning a glare from you.

Madam Pomfrey finally arrived, puffing and muttering under her breath. “Step back, step back, what did he do this time—bloody Weasley twins—”

“He caught a Bludger with his skull,” you said flatly.

“Coolest catch I’ve ever done,” George mumbled.

You brushed his hair back again gently, watching as Pomfrey waved her wand over his head and began muttering incantations. “You’re going to be okay. Just… try not to flirt with anyone else on the way to the Hospital Wing.”

George’s eyes fluttered closed briefly, then opened again, still dazed. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Got the prettiest girl right here.”

“Sweet-talker,” you said quietly, cheeks warm.

He smiled at you, soft and crooked. “Still can’t believe you’re my girlfriend. That’s like, winning the Triwizard Tournament but without the dragons.”

Fred piped up. “You do realize you’re gonna have to live this all down when you’re healed, yeah?”

George didn’t miss a beat. “Worth it.”

Pomfrey sighed. “Someone help me levitate this lovestruck idiot to the Wing before he starts serenading her.”

You stood up, still grinning as George kept his eyes locked on you, even while floating in mid-air. He reached out lazily, fingers wiggling in your direction. “I love you, random pretty girl.”

You leaned close and kissed his forehead. “Still your girlfriend, dork.”

He beamed, all bruised and dizzy and delighted. “Hell yeah.”

#harry potter #wizarding world #lumosflair #hogwarts #fluff #weasley #x reader #weasley twins #george weasley x reader fluff #george weasley fluff #george x reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley

115 notes · View notes

lmaowhatt · 2 days ago

Text

WORLD TURNED UPSIDE DOWN

requested by: anon

hey babe hru, could u write one in wich reader finds that she's pregnant and really freaks out but tries to hide it (they're both teens) cause she doesnt wanna mess up things with jj? and in like a party or a kegger they get drunk and kinda like fight and it slips out of her?? something really angsty and maybe fluffy

tysm i love your work

pairing: lover boy!jj x gf!reader

warnings: mentions of teen pregnancy, drinking, cursing, angst→fluff.

if theres any others feel free to let me know!

lover boy!jj masterlist | main masterlist

youd been antsy for a while. it shouldve been a sign that something was wrong. and even though youd convinced yourself for nearly two weeks that you were imagining things, that there was nothing wrong with you. but that thought that it was something more lingered in the back of your head. it nagged at you until you finally listened.

your heart dropped. you were sitting on the floor in the bathroom at the chateau, your back flat against the door, a speck of chipped paint tangling itself in your hair, already messy from how many times youd ran your hand through it to make sure this wasnt a sick joke. you stared at the positive pregnancy test in your hands. two pink lines taunting you, the reality setting in that your future was about to change. forever.

you had just turned seventeen around two months ago, and jj was months from turning eighteen. he still reckless and impulsive in a way his charming, caring side barely made up for. in no world were the two of you fit to be parents. not yet at least.

jj was drunk by the time you got there with kiara, whod been the only person you told, simply because she found the box while rummaging in your bathroom counter for a spare deodorant. his shirt was slung over his shoulder, drink full of warm, stale beer in hand, the beer in the cup sloshing around as he moved around the room.

he spotted you from the corner of his eyes and immediately turned, crossing the room over to you and pressing a kiss to your lips. just the smell of the beer lingering on his lips made you want to throw up. but you wanted to hang on to that last shred of teenage recklessness you had in you, so you stayed.

despite everything in you telling you to leave because of the pure uneasiness lingering deep in your belly, you stayed. because jj looked so happy. free. you wanted to see what it was like to live like there was nothing on the line, even though nothing could change the permanence of the baby growing in your belly.

a hand moved to your stomach instinctively as you watched jj walk over to a folding table with red solo cups on it. jj grabbed a cup from it, walking back over to you with a smile that wouldve lit up an entire room. your stomach twisted, but you accepted your drink regardless, just holding it, staring down at the contents in the cup like jj had just handed you a cup of poison.

the scent wafted up to your nose and you almost gagged, turning to place the cup on the kitchen island. everything had hit you like a freight train since you found out. the morning sickness, nausea, fatigue, sensitivity to smell, mood swings, all of it.

youd been doing well with managing most of it so far, but with a cup of stale beer and standing in a room full of drunk, sweaty teenagers who had no sense of 'personal bubbles,' everything flared instantly.

jj furrowed his eyebrows, "baby, you okay?" he asked, moving closer and wrapping an arm around your waist. you puffed your cheeks with air, blowing it our slowly with a nod. "yeah, 'm just... feeling sick, i guess," you mumbled, fully acknowledging the fact that you didnt sound believable but choosing to ignore it.

"you sure?" his hand drifting lower, now resting in the small of your back, thumb pressing soothing lines down your hip. "im fine, j," you snapped. "just tired. go have fun," you turned to him with a tight lipped smile, tilting your head to gesture to the drunk crowd of sweaty teenagers gathered in the living room, most swaying offbeat to whatever song was playing.

he narrowed his eyes at you but didnt question it, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek before moving to join john b, who now had his shirt on inside out and had somehow managed to climb onto the mantle, cracking a foaming beer open and spraying it onto the crowd, earning a chorus of cheers.

you swallowed your saliva nervously, lifting your shoulder to wipe his wet lip print off your cheek. you glanced around the kitchen, eventually walking over to the cooler with drinks bathing in half melted ice, pulling out a water bottle, twisting it open, and taking as sip as you moved back to where youd been previously.

thats how youd spent most of your time at the party, people watching in between sip of your water, condesation dripping down your wrist if you didnt wipe it off on yur shorts in time, and somehow talking some girl named vanessa out of getting back together with her ex.

it felt as though an hour or two had passed before an even drunker jj approached you, shirt now wrapped around his head like a bandana and that stupid drunk, but in-love smile plastered on his face. "hi, sweet girl," he mumbled,slighty slurring his words as he wrapped an arm around your waist, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.

he blinked when you turned your head away, kiss landing on your cheek instead. he actually blinked. "hey... whats wrong with ya?" he asked. he didnt mean it with any malicious intent, but there was something deep hidden in his tone that you hadn't expected. you shook your head.

"nothing, jj. i already told you im fine," you murmured back, barely managing to keep eye contact with the guilt swimming deep in your irises. "look at me when youre talking to me." his voice was clipped now, frustration threading itself between his eyebrows. you rubbed a hand down your face, breathing out heavily and turning to face him. "im just tired, jj. that enough for you?"

your voice was laced with a mix of both frustration and the dread that wrapped around your entire body like an invisible rope that kept on tightening no matter how much you tried willing it away. "wheres this attitude comin' from? im just askin' whats wrong," he said with furrowed eyebrows, hands now placed on the fake marble of the kitchen island, arms caging you in.

"im not giving you an attitude, im just answering your question." he cocked an eyebrow, giving you a quick updown. your crossed arms were the thing that gave it away the most. "really? 'cause that mug you got goin' on is saying something else." you huffed, rolling your eyes and droppign your arms to your sides dramatically.

jj narrowed his eyes, the drinks in his system making his actions more noticeable. "okay, the fucks wrong with you," he asked, pushing off the island and placing his hands low at his waist.

"like are you... being dramatic on purpose or some shit?"

you let out a dry laugh, pushing off the counter and heading towards the front door without another word. you heard him call after you, muttering half assed apologies to partygoers he bumped into as he ran after you.

he caught your wrist when you were halfway acorss the front lawn, fully intending to walk home because you just couldnt deal with the bullshit—his bullshit. "the fucks your problem? im trying to ask you whats wrong because that 'nothing, im fine' shit doesnt work for me." he didnt raise his voice, but his tone was firm, he wasnt asking for an answer, he needed one.

you snatched your wrist out of his grip, "because it is nothing! i just dont— i dont know, alright?" he stared blankly. blinked once. then scoffed, "yeah, alright," like he didnt fully believe you. he didnt, was barely trying to. "just be happy and enjoy the fuckin' party then," he mumbled, running a hand throguh his hair, glancing back at the house.

rolling your eyes, you shoved him back once, "im goin' home." he stumbled, just barely catching himself on a truck parked in the driveway. he stared at you, you looked so tense, almost scared, but he just scowled. "youre fuckin' overreacting over nothing, then? just tell me what the fucks' going on!" you two stared at each other, and after a couple moments, when it seemed he was going to turn and leave, you blurted it out.

"im pregnant."

he sobered instantly.

his eyes widened, head jerking forward like he didnt hear you correctly. he rubbed his eyes with his thump and pointer finger, blinking a couple times before a, "excuse me?" slipped out of his mouth. tears pooled in your waterline and you blinked them away before speaking more clearly, "im pregnant." jj nodded slowly, still trying to understand the situation while not looking completely incompetent.

he raised a finger into the air before putting it down, "um... how exactly?" jj asked before quickly adding with a tiny, barely there smirk, "well i know how, but like... when did you uhm," you furrowed your eyebrows, watching how he snapped his fingers, fishing for the right word. "find out?"

his head snapped up towards you, snapping his fingers towards you and nodding, "yeah, yeah. when did ya find out?" you shrugged, wrappign your arms around yourself trying to ease the chills on your skin from the sudden breeze. "around a week ago? i just— i guess i didnt want you thinking i was trapping your or whatever... its stupid really-"

"hey, hey," he mumbled, shaking his head as he stepped towards you, placing his hands on your shoulders in the most comforting manner he could pull off at the moment. "dont do that. its my fault, alright? i fucked up, i overreacted. im sorry. im so fuckin' sorry baby, seriously." he wrapped his arms around you tight, kissing the top of your head repeatedly. "you didnt deserve that at all, im sorry."

you nuzzled your head into his neck, breathing him in and arms wrapping tight around his torso like he might disappear if you let go. "i didnt want to ruin things with you and i thought this did it," your words were muffled against his neck but he heard them loud and clear. pulling away, his hands moved to your cheeks, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

"you could never ruin things with me, baby. never. im pretty surprised i havent," you laughed at that, it was slightly watery, but it was real. and thats all jj cared about in the moment. he slowly descended onto his knees, right there on the pavement in some strandgers driveway.

he pressed one hand pressed against your still-normal belly, the other resting at the back of your thigh. "as for this little munchkin," he mumbled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss just below your belly button. "when do you like know what they are?" you huffed out a tiny laugh, pressing a hand over his on your belly.

"in like three to four months, jj," you smiled down at him because even in his stupididty, you loved him with everything you had in you. he just shrugged, pressing one last kiss to your belly before pushing off the pavement and standing back up, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

the two of you began the short walk back to the chateau. "well whatever it is, im gonna love them with everything ive got." he sighed, throwing his head back to watch the starry sky, content. "hey, youre gonna be a milf. ha." your smile dropped, turning your head to catch him already looking at you with wiggling eyebrows.

you shoved him off with a roll of your eyes, a laugh escaping your lips despite yourself. he laughed, a full belly laugh as he caught up to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders again, pressing a kiss to your hairine.

"youre gonna be the best milf ever dont worry, baby."

99 notes · View notes

fandom-imagines-stories · 2 days ago

Text

Leave the Light On

Robert Reynolds x Reader

Words: 6225

Summary: As Bob is learning to control his powers, his guilt comes to a breaking point when he sees something from your past.

Notes: How could I not use one of my favorite hurt/comfort tropes with this fine, fine man? He has become one of my golden boys and I will protect him at all costs…except in my own writing. Also, like with the Top Gun imagine, I might revisit this character arch. I think Blue Fire could be fun to work with. Let me know what you think!

Warnings: Abuse, trauma, anxiety, depression... about what you'd expect.

More Marvel imagines: HERE

He’d asked you once if you didn’t want to tell them because you were ashamed of it. Ashamed of him. It couldn't be further from the truth, of course, but once Bob got something in his head, it tended to burrow in and not come out for weeks. Now, every time you caught his eye from across the tower, he avoided you.

“Who’s been using my goddamn toothbrush?” Walker’s voice boomed throughout the entire penthouse Valentina put you up in.

You still didn’t feel right. Standing where they had stood.

Just because she was calling you heroes didn’t make it true.

“Why would any of us use your toothbrush?” Ava scoffed as Walker stormed into the main living space, holding the little bristled tool in hand. She didn’t even look up from her book.

“Well, I definitely didn’t leave it lying face down on the counter so all of your disgusting bacteria could collect on it,” he snapped back.

You rolled your eyes.

So no. It wasn’t that you were ashamed. You weren’t ashamed of Bob or being with him or anything like that.

You didn’t want to tell them because they were assholes.

“Y/N? Was it you? Huh?” Walker waved the toothbrush in front of your face.

You snatched it out of his super soldier grip and threw it as hard as you could across the room. It clattered somewhere behind the bar.

Across the living room, Bob snickered by the window.

“Oh, do you find that funny, Bob?” Walker whined. “You think Y/N is hilarious because she’s mutilating my things?”

“You know I don’t like it when you get closer than three feet to me, Walker,” you said.

“You don’t like it when I do this? Huh?” The former super-soldier loomed over you, pressing up against your chair.

“God, you are such a dick,” you muttered, standing up and taking a swing.

Walker caught your fist and wrenched your arm back.

Damn serum.

“Admit you’ve been messing with my stuff,” he said.

“I haven’t touched your fu- ahh!” He pushed harder on your arm, knowing he could break it if he really wanted to.

A pair of bare feet and blue sweats appeared in your vision. You craned your neck to look up. Bob stood in front of you both. And his eyes were glowing. He didn’t have to say anything. Walker let you go.

“Stop messing with my stuff,” Walker muttered, stomping away like an angry little kid.

Bob’s stare followed him. His fists clenched at his sides.

You stretched your arm out to ease some of the soreness. Blocking the other’s view with your body, you covered Bob’s hand with yours, forcing his fingers to relax.

“I’m fine,” you whispered.

Slowly, his gaze returned to you, and his eyes went back to their dark, thoughtful blue.

“Okay.” The word fell from his lips like a breath of relief, soft and spreading warmth through your cheeks. His fingers laced together with yours. “Okay.” He cleared his throat, ducking his head. “I’m gonna go. Yeah. I need to go… clean my room.”

Even he found himself wincing at the awkwardness, but instead of backtracking, he hurried off, flexing his fingers at his sides to battle the lingering feeling of your touch.

You watched him disappear down the hall and felt the others watching you, so you turned on your heel and walked the other way, deciding to get some air on the balcony.

Bucky, Yelena, and Alexi caught the tail end of the encounter, thankfully missing Walker’s hissy fit. They did, however, see you and Bob retreating in opposite directions. Yelena clicked her tongue and leaned over to the Winter Soldier.

“How long do you think it’ll take them to realize we already know?” She whispered.

Bucky thought for a second, crossing his metal arm over the other. “I think they’ll go for another week before they come clean.”

She snorted. “Like they’ll keep it up that long.”

Bucky raised a brow.

“What? It isn’t like Mr. Shadow is great at subtlety and Y/N is trying so hard to hide it, she doesn’t even realize she’s giving away all her cards.”

“Showing her cards,” Bucky corrected.

Yelena ignored him. “Should we let them know that we know?”

“Absolutely not.”

Now it was her turn to raise her brows.

Bucky frowned. “Do you have any idea how little entertainment I get?” He shook his head. “No. I want to see how this plays out.”

The two watched you storm out onto the balcony and grip the railing like it was keeping you from going over. Oh yeah. You had it bad.

“Twenty bucks says three days,” Yelena said.

Bucky held out his good hand. “Deal.”

Alexi walked behind the bar to make himself a drink and bent down. “Hey, look, free toothbrush!”

You retreated to your room when you couldn’t stand the sound of Walker and Alexi bickering over something you didn’t care enough to listen to. Yours was on the second level of the penthouse and gave you a view that faced the Hudson.

“Are you ready for your swimming lesson?”

You flinched and quickly looked away, drawing the curtain over the window and casting the room into shadow, including the far corner by your closet.

“Hey.”

“Jesus Christ, Bob!”

You switched on your lamp, and he leaned forward so he was in the light, giving you a sheepish smile.

“Sorry.”

You sat on the edge of your bed and ran your fingers through your hair, wincing at the soreness still in your arm.

“Walker is such an asshole,” you muttered, rolling your shoulder to ease some of the ache. Walker’s grip had shifted your sleeve up. White-pink marks blared back at you against your skin. You tugged your shirt sleeve back down and kept stretching. “So are you talking to me now?”

“I wasn’t,” he shrank back, “not talking to you.”

“Liar.” You shot him a teasing smirk. Pulling your arm across you, you felt your muscles ease a bit. “Do you see why now?”

Bob glanced down at his hands, fingers interlocking and releasing. “Not really.”

“Because they suck!” You exclaimed. Shifting to sit across from him, you reached out, pulling his hands to your lap, lacing your fingers through his instead. “Believe me, my hesitation has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the people we unfortunately call our friends.”

Not to mention Valentina. You were not about to become a poster couple for her stupid campaign. She was insufferable enough as it was. You could see it now. Valentina’s Valentine Cards, featuring The New Avengers’ Blue Fire and… Bob.

No. You’d spent enough of your life under a magnifying glass. You weren’t going to do that to the best thing that had happened to you in, well, ever. The thought alone made your hands tingle with the power that burned in your body.

“Are you okay?” Bob asked softly.

You calmed down and held his hands a little tighter. Your eyes met those deep blues, and you smiled. “Yeah. Always.”

His fingers moved from yours to your wrists, tracing the skin up under your sleeves. Your breathing hitched, but you didn’t pull away. Bob stood, shifting so he was beside you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your middle.

“I’m sorry Walker was an asshole.”

You snorted. “It’s not your fault. I think they put it in the serum.” You embraced him in turn, curling your body into his. Sometimes it felt like the only place in the world where you fit. You felt his arms tighten a little around you. His lashes tickled your skin as he screwed his eyes shut.

“Ren?” You pulled back just enough to get a look at him. “Ren, what’s wrong?”

“I’m trying,” he gasped out, “I can’t-” Those dark blue eyes met yours in panic and apology.

And you both vanished.

“Are you ready for your first swimming lesson?”

Two hands came down hard on your back, knocking the wind out of you and pushing you into the frigid waters. Only it wasn’t you. You could still feel the harshness of his palms on your shoulder blades, but it wasn’t happening to you. At least, not you you.

But the little girl in front of you, whose head went under the water and came up coughing, begging her daddy to help her, was you once. She had your hair, though shorter, your eyes, though less haunted.

You flinched as your little arms splashed against the water, desperate to keep afloat. Gurgled screams echoed through your head.

With your feet still planted on the dock, you stared at him, with his cold, calculating eyes. The hard set of his jaw and the tense, disappointed way he crossed his arms.

Your father.

“No,” you hissed under your breath and dove into the water.

It was every bit as cold as you remembered, freezing your skin at first touch. You clenched your teeth to keep them from chattering. The muscles of your arms and legs seized up in the icy water, but you pushed on, eyes searching for that small, scared little girl. All you found, though, was the dark.

A hand latched onto your wrist, keeping you from going any deeper. You fought against it, but it was stronger. He was stronger.

Bob pulled you to him, and when you opened your eyes again, trying to blink back that terrible water, you were back in your room. His arms clung to you, but when he realized you were both back, he recoiled.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I try to stop-”

Still feeling like you were holding your breath, you held up a hand. “It’s okay.”

“Y/N, I-”

“Ren, really.” You inhaled. You exhaled. “I’m fine.” You motioned to the room around you. “See? We’re back. We’re fine.”

“But what you saw…” He trailed off, grimacing.

You took his face in your hands. “It’s nothing I don’t see already, okay?” If your words couldn’t convince him, your lips might, pressing against his gently, reassuring. “You brought me back.”

It was enough to make him smile, at least a little.

“You brought yourself back,” he said. He kept kissing you anyway.

It was one of the things that worried him the most about you. He could never get enough. The more time he spent with you, touching you, the more risk there was of his powers taking over.

“I’m starving,” you said, resting your forehead against his. “Think you can fly us to a pizza place or something?” With your arms draped around his neck, you could feel his laugh even before you heard it.

“I don’t think Valentina would like that idea.”

“Well, Valentina is a bitch.” You pouted your lips and tilted your head. “Please please please please.”

“I will walk with you to the nearest place,” Bob said.

You rolled your eyes. “Boring, but fine.” Drawing a finger over his cheek, you let your thumb land on his lips. “But only if we get extra cheese.”

“I can live with that.”

Bob drew you back to him for another long, sweet kiss. He let his hands settle at the small of your back, making sure to only touch the fabric of your sweatshirt. Still, he held you as close as he could without fear of hurting you. But in the back of his mind, he was thinking of you lost in that dark water, swimming after something you’d never catch.

Bob didn’t consider himself to be a brave person. He was always scared all the time. Sure, back at the compound, he’d run after Valentina’s men so that the others could get away, but he didn’t consider that courage.

Bravery and the willingness to die weren’t exactly the same thing.

But he wondered if there wasn’t something to be said for doing something that scared him every single day. Did that make him brave? Because being with you scared him more than almost anything.

He watched the light streaming through the window touch your skin. The sun glittered against your bare shoulder. His fingers hovered just over the spot, not quite touching you, not quite sure.

How could something scare him so much and yet feel like the first right thing in his entire life?

You stirred, turning just enough that you bumped into his touch.

Bob scurried away and screwed his eyes shut tight.

You sighed out a tired sound. “Are you doing that thing where you pretend you weren’t watching me?”

He opened one eye and found you smiling at him. “No.”

You fully rolled over so you could lay your hand on his cheek.

He opened the other eye too.

“Morning,” he mumbled.

“How’d you sleep?”

He shrugged. “Better.”

He always slept better when he was next to you. You were like a dreamcatcher for whatever this thing inside him was. You caught it all and stored it away. He just worried about what it was doing to you instead.

You tucked a brown wave behind his ear and kissed him slowly, sweetly.

“Good.”

“What, um,” he stammered, “what about you? Did you, uh… sleep?”

You wondered if he could tell. Could he sense a nightmare even if he wasn’t part of it? That wasn’t entirely true, of course. He was there. Most of your nightmares involved him, locked away in your childhood home, hidden in a box by your father so he could use him as a weapon against the impending end of the world.

Not far off from Valentina’s original plans, it seemed.

“Like a rock,” you plastered a smile on your face and kissed him again.

There, lying there while his arms wrapped around you and gently tugged you to his chest, that’s where you needed to be. That’s all you needed.

You breathed him in, not realizing how much you were shaking against him.

“Hey,” he said, “are you cold?” He pulled the blankets tighter around you and rubbed his hands up and down your arms.

“I’m fine, Ren.”

A little smile teased his lips the way it always did when you used his nickname. It was his turn to pull your lips to his, kissing both corners, then your jaw, then up to the spot by your ear. His giggle rumbled through you.

“We have to get up.”

“Why? Do you have plans I don’t know about?”

You laughed, his hands falling to your hips, fingers tickling. “No. I’ve got a hot date with Bucky.”

Bob nipped your ear.

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious.” You curled a light-brown strand around your finger. “I have a thing for super soldier serum, I guess. Walker is next on my list.”

For a split second, that familiar little ring of cold circled his captivating blue irises. But only for a second. Then, your Bob was back, pouting.

“It is too early for you to be this mean to me.”

“I’m sorry,” you snickered. “Do you want me to kiss it to make it better?”

The gold returned in a circled sliver, accompanied by a fierce blush overtaking his cheeks. God, you couldn’t get enough of him.

“I…um…” Flustered, he cleared his throat, which made him actually cough, which started a coughing fit that you could only laugh at.

“I’m going to get some coffee,” you said, reaching for your clothes beside the bed.

In the flicker of movement, Bob caught a glimpse of the scar on your arm, thigh, and back of the neck. You’d never told him what they were from. He never asked, of course, but he’d wondered. He knew self-harm. And he knew better than most what needle marks looked like. These weren’t either. He had a feeling. A bad one.

“Stay a little longer?” He asked, his voice so sweet and tired that you had to look back with a smile. He tugged on your hand.

“What’s up with you this morning?”

Bob shrugged. “I just like it when we stay in here. Nothing else can touch us in here.”

Out there, he was always worried about doing the wrong thing or letting too much of his power loose. When he could lie here, holding you, it anchored him to this reality. You kept the shadows away, as well as the blinding light that came with the other side of him. Everyone saw him as split in two. The Sentry and The Void. Sometimes it felt like you were the only one who saw him.

“Okay.” You layed back down, allowing him to quickly snuggle back beside you, tucking your head under his chin.

It all felt so right. More right than he’d ever been. No matter what he’d done, he’d always been wrong. With his family, with the world, as The Sentry. But then you stepped into his shadows, and you saw him for all that he could be. Not in the way Valentina did, but in a way he wanted to aspire to. He wanted to be the person you saw in him.

And isn’t that was love was?

“I love you,” Bob whispered.

You stiffened in his arms.

“What?”

Gathering his confidence, he said it a little louder. “I love you, Y/N.”

Suddenly, his arms felt very hot, like he was holding onto a space heater. It wasn’t until he saw the slight blue glow that he released you. Your body lit up with the neon color, just like the weapons you’d described to him.

Blue Flame.

He’d only seen it once before- when you were helping him escape the vault before Valentina burned you all away. Even then, you hadn’t looked this scared.

“I think I should go,” you said, voice cracking.

Bob’s face fell.

You started toward the door.

“Y/N, wait,” he pleaded, reaching for you. When he grabbed your hand, it felt like he’d been struck by lightning.

He couldn’t stop it after that.

The two of you tumbled into the dark, but water wasn’t what you found. It was blood.

You knew where you were before you heard the screaming. Before you saw the sad trail of blood leading to the table where your younger self tried to get free of your restraints. Your leg and arm were already opened up, small slits bleeding all over the floor. He’d tied you facedown to the table

“They figured it out,” your father muttered. “They know. They know and they’re trying to turn you against me.”

“Dad, please,” you begged.

“I have to get the chip out. Then, things will go back to how they were.” He dug his scalpel into the back of your neck.

Bob stood beside you in the corner of the room, watching you watching yourself. You were both frozen in place, whether by the force of your memory or the fear running like ice through your veins. All he could do was stand there.

He couldn't remember ever seeing you really cry before. Not like this.

Your face crumpled, and you had to bring a hand up to your lips to muffle your sob.

When your father was finished, satisfied that there was nothing hiding beneath your skin, he turned to the other table.

“Leave him alone,” you growled, both in the past and as you stood there watching.

Your little brother, barely eighteen, sat up, willing and waiting. He held out his arm.

“Find it, Dad,” Cam said. The hard set of his jaw was betrayed by the welling terror in his eyes. “I believe you.”

Your father sneered back at your younger self, but you felt like he was staring right through you. It rattled you worse than any hit you’d taken. You wanted to hide or run, but there was nowhere to go.

Bob almost reached for you, but he didn’t.

You walked toward the tables.

“I said, leave him alone!” Younger you shouted.

The scalpel hovered over your brother’s wrist.

Brightness took over your vision, as blinding as it was in all of your nightmares. You could feel the terrible burn in your skin. It made your vision blur even more until all you could see was that light. The power forced into your veins with the technology that almost destroyed New York.

You hit your knees as it faded.

“Y/N,” Bob exclaimed, finally breaking himself out of his trance to rush to your side.

“It works,” your father gasped. A wide, awful grin spread across his face. “It works!”

The you of the past leveled your hard, glowing gaze on your father. You raised your hand.

“Don’t!” Cam pleaded.

“Is this what you wanted, daddy?” You hissed. The blue intensified again, spreading across the lines of your palm and creeping up your veins. It settled in your eyes, turning them to ice. “Is this what you wanted!”

Dad held up his hands in front of him, face softening to that false paternal smile that made your stomach roll. “Don’t you see, sweetheart? Don’t you see the power I’ve given you? They won’t be able to hurt us.” His voice faltered, trying to hide his fear. “Nothing will hurt you again.”

“No.” You let the power flow through you and launch itself forward. “Nothing will.”

A beam of cerulean light rammed into your father’s chest. The smell of burning cloth and meat filled your lungs.

You could still taste it in the air as you knelt on the lab floor. It choked you like thick, black smoke. You tried to breathe through it, but your throat constricted, your sobs warbling into gasps for air.

The hole in your father’s chest might as well have been yours, leaving nothing but charred, emptiness.

He slumped forward, face still watching you with a proud, grotesque smile.

Cam struggled against his restraints, screaming.

You stepped toward him.

You reached for him from your place on the floor.

He turned a burning glare on you. Not the you from the past, but you. The one crying on the ground, trying to breathe.

“How could you?” He hissed.

“Cam, please,” the younger you begged. You took another step and turned to dust.

You watched yourself drift away into the dark and everything else blurred around you.

A hand landed on your shoulder and you were back in your bedroom. You were on the ground, shaking hands braced against the floor to keep yourself from crumbling completely.

Five years. You’d gotten a second to grieve everything you’d lost while the rest of the world got five years to move on.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t touch me.” You recoiled from Bob’s touch. You could feel it rising in you again, the power. You worried what it would do to him if you didn’t get away.

Bob knelt beside you and let his hands fall to his lap. He watched tears fall down your face and couldn’t stop his own from clouding his vision. He wiped them away quickly, but they kept coming.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said softly.

Your eyes snapped to his. “What?”

Bob’s lip trembled and he reached for you again, only to let his hand linger there in the air between you. Forever held out to you.

You didn’t take it.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he repeated, voice cracking.

You’d never told him- told anyone, really. The only one who had some semblance of an idea was Valentina and that was only because your father worked for her. She gave him the resources to make you what you were and you worked for her anyway.

“You don’t know,” you said in a low voice. The smoke and smell of your father’s burning heart still felt like they were wrapped around the inside of your throat, blocking any breath. “I killed him.”

“You were protecting your brother-”

“Who killed himself two years later!” You finally found your voice in a scream. It was all crashing down on you and the only way you could see out of it was anger. You scrambled to your feet and backed away, trying not to notice the brokenness in Bob’s eyes. “You don’t get it, Robert.”

His full name made him flinch.

Your fists clenched at your sides. “Some of us didn’t sign up for this.”

You stormed out of the room so you didn’t have to see the hurt settle in his face. You caught enough of a glimpse, though, that made your stomach ache, like you’d swallowed acid and it was eating you from the inside out.

Bob sat on the floor where you’d both fallen, legs folded beneath him. He buried his face in his hands. He could feel it- the darkness. It seeped in from the corners of his mind.

Did you hear her? You chose this. She’ll never forgive you.

“Stop it,” he cried, tugging his hair between his fingers. “Shut up. Shut up.”

You hurt her. You made it worse. You always make it worse.

“I didn’t mean to,” Bob whispered. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to.”

Valentina didn’t like it when you climbed up on the roof, but all of you did anyway. She said her security team always lost track of you because the cameras tended to malfunction. What she didn’t know was that you and Walker had come up here when you first moved in and messed them up so you’d have a place she couldn't watch you. Any time she sent someone to fix them, one of you would break the lens or tape a picture of Iron Man or something like that, so eventually she just gave up.

You sat with your legs hanging off the edge. The clouds were low tonight, heavy with rain. It made you feel like you were sitting in the middle of the storm. You sent a blue flash into the grey to mimic the lightning that hadn’t come quite yet.

“Careful. Someone is going to think that’s a UFO.” Bucky’s heavy steps stomped across the concrete of the rooftop, his hair slicked back from a shower and his arm recently polished.

“Good.” You glanced briefly back at him and turned back to the clouds. “Maybe that will give them something to talk about other than us.” You sent out another flash and he sat down next to you, metal fingers clinging against the edge.

“Were you here?” He asked. You raised a brow, so he clarified. “During the attack on New York?”

You flexed your hands out in front of you. Blue fizzled in between your fingertips.

“I was on a school trip upstate. Senior year of high school,” you said. “My parents were here, though. My mom got killed.”

He nodded, eyes almost as blue as the power in your palm. “Is that what made your dad…”

“Turn into a mad scientist doomsday prepper who mutilated his children and turned one into a monster using the same weapons that killed his wife?” You finished for him. You shrugged, leaning back with your arms resting behind you. “I mean, he was always an asshole who thought he could prepare us for the big terrible world by being even bigger and more terrible, but… yeah. I’d say that was the last straw.”

Bucky didn’t mutter any apologies or give you any pitiful glances, which you were grateful for.

“You stayed with him all that time?”

“Didn’t have a reason not to.”

“But you had a reason to stay.” His question was clear.

You kicked your leg out, then let it fall. Out and fall. Out and fall. “My kid brother idolized him. And when mom died… well, he really thought my dad was going to save the world by changing the two of us into something that couldn’t be taken from him.”

“He wanted to turn you into superheroes.” Bucky hummed thoughtfully. “Sounds familiar.”

“Yeah and he screwed up. He didn’t make me a hero, he made me-” You cut yourself off, anger buzzing through you with a power not from earth. A power that once tried to destroy the city you sat over. “That sound familiar too?”

Bucky didn’t say anything, but the look in his piercing eyes was enough for you to know he understood. He understood more than you needed to explain. He knew. You didn’t know how, but he did.

“You know,” he inhaled sharply, “I really hated Valentina for a long time after she kind of forced us into a team.”

“Really?” You scoffed. “None of us could tell.”

He nudged you with his metal elbow. “But after a while, I realized it was good. For all of us.” Those blue eyes softened. “We fit together. Don’t ask me how, but we do.” Bucky turned back to the skyline, breathing in the clouds. “Nobody fits better than the two of you.”

Your shoulders slumped forward, head angled down so you could just see the specks of people beneath you.

“How am I supposed to let him see all of me?” You asked, voice barely a whisper. “When I still can’t look in the mirror for too long?” Holding your arm out in front of you, you stared at the scar where your father had dug a blade into your flesh, searching for something that would justify his paranoia.

Bucky held his hand out beside yours. The silver glinted in the light next to your skin. He took your hand in a gentle, but firm grip.

“That’s the cost, isn’t it?”

He let go, letting his arm fall back to his side. Yours stayed there, though, hovering in the air like you were reaching for something. Maybe you were.

“Now, thanks to you, I owe Yelena twenty bucks,” he huffed, climbing back off of the ledge.

“What were you-” You started, then it hit you. “Oh, you’re an asshole.”

Bucky just clicked his tongue and waved back to you as he left.

Downstairs, Yelena felt the hallway growing dark, and a deep dread settled in her stomach. Her knock was light. She entered the room without waiting for a response.

He was sitting on his bed, facing a wall, and the shadows of the room seemed to collect around him.

“Hey, Bob,” she said, taking a step forward. “You feeling okay?”

“I can control it.” He tilted his head to acknowledge her presence, but he didn’t move. “I can. I promise.”

Yelena held up a hand, like she was approaching a frightened deer. “I know you can.” She eyed a particularly angry-looking dark spot. If dark spots could be angry. “But for the sake of curiosity, why are you going all, you know… scary dark shame loop?”

“I didn’t- she hates me because I couldn’t- I scared her and now I-”

“Bob.” Her voice sharpened. It forced him to look up at her. “What happened?”

You spent the rest of the afternoon walking. It didn’t matter where. It didn’t matter once the sky started to get dark. You walked around the city, looking at everything that, not so long ago, had been utterly destroyed. And it was all through the power that now haunted your veins like a virus that was slowly eating away from the inside out.

Bucky’s words rang through your head for the entirety of your walk.

That’s the cost.

The elevator doors closed around you and the numbness faded. It was a wall you’d built around you since you came back from The Blip. What a stupid name for it. Too simple, too sweet. Half of the world vanished and when they came back, everything had changed. You’d lost everything and they told you that you were lucky to be back.

You weren’t sure when you started crying, but once it started, you couldn't stop. Your whole body shook from the force of it, like it was breaking you apart piece by piece. The wall crumbled.

That’s the cost.

When you reached the penthouse, you pulled yourself off the elevator floor, unsure of when you sank down to your knees. You knew you probably looked crazy. You stepped out anyway.

The living room was empty and quiet. Someone had made coffee, despite the late hour. You breathed in the scent of it to ground yourself.

Yelena emerged from the hallway. Trailing behind her was Bob, his eyes sullen and shoulders slumped.

When he saw you, the guilt struck him all over again like a thousand bullets. You’d been crying. More than that, he could see the toll of everything in the way you held yourself, like the structure that held you up had crumbled. You were still crying. Tears pooled in your pretty eyes and rolled down your cheeks. He never meant to make you cry. He didn’t mean to-

His thoughts stopped when you bolted across the room and wrapped your arms around him.

You knocked the air out of his chest and brought him back to himself, all of the shadows threatening to consume him chased away by your touch. You buried your face in his chest, your tears wetting his shirt but he didn’t care.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into the fabric. “I didn’t mean what I said.”

“Y/N, I-” He started, but he didn’t know what to say, so he just kept apologizing. “I’m so sorry.”

You pulled back, looking up at him with more vulnerability than you thought you were capable anymore. His blue eyes softened you, melted you into someone you used to be. Someone you wanted to be again.

“Can we talk?”

Bob let his hands fall to the small of your back, pulling you as close as he could. He nodded, leaning down to nuzzle into your neck.

“I’ll just…” Yelena didn’t finish, she just stalked off, giving the two of you one last glance before heading toward her room.

You tugged Bob out onto the balcony. Years ago, Tony Stark fought a god on this balcony. Steve Rogers and Thor. Heroes. People you’d heard about your whole life, from your father trying to make you one of them, from the world that turned them into idols. Now, you couldn’t help but wonder if they were just people, too.

“I know it wasn’t your fault,” you said, wanting to get that out of the way. “And I don’t blame you.” You paced in front of the glass barriers keeping you from tumbling over the edge. “I’m tired. I’m tired of being scared.”

“I know.” Bob shook his head, the guilt still lingering in his gaze. “I keep making you relive the worst parts of your life. The more I try to stop it, the more I keep hurting you and I don’t want to hurt you anymore-”

“Bob, stop.” You took his face in your hands and took a deep breath. “I can face the worst of me because I am the best of myself when I’m with you.” Grasping his hand, you placed it over the scar on your arm. “I want to show you all of me. I want you to see the parts of myself that I could never face alone. Because I’m not alone anymore. Sometimes I just need to remember that.” Another breath. “I love you, Robert.” With those words, all of the air left your body. You had to say them again just to inhale. “I love you. And yes, that scares me because of- well everything to be honest and-”

It’s his turn to interrupt you, lips catching your words and breathing life back into you. His hand cups the back of your neck gently but his movements are steady and determined. You know without him breaking away that this is him saying it back. He does anyway.

“I love you too.” His fingers grazed the scar on your hip while his other hand tangled in your hair. “A-and I’m going to get better. I can control it. I am going to work every day to make sure you never have to go through something like that again.”

“And I am going to remind you every day something bad happens, because it will, that it isn’t your fault,” you promised. His blue sweater was warm against your skin and the growing chill of the evening. “The point isn’t to make sure nothing happens, Bob. It’s to make sure we can go through it together.”

That’s the cost.

You hated how right that old soldier was.

“So…” Bob glanced at the windows to the balcony, where the entirety of your team was now standing. “Does this mean we’re okay telling everybody?” He shrank away from their stares, his sheepishness making you smile.

“Yeah.” You turned his face back to yours. “I guess it does.”

Looking at you made him forget all of it, the panic, the pain, the slight fear of Walker’s annoyed glare. You pulled his lips down to yours and it all went away. You knew it would still be there. All of that anguish lingering in both of you like a disease. But maybe it was a little easier to face together than alone. To have someone there, leaving the light on for when you were ready to come out of the darkness.

Inside, Yelena held out her hand.

Bucky rolled his eyes and passed her the cash.

#robert reynolds #bob mcu #the sentry #bob thunderbolts #thunderbolts #thunderbolts imagines #robert reynolds x reader #marvel imagines #bucky barnes #yelena belova

125 notes · View notes

svgarz · 1 day ago

Text

Pretty nails - L.HS

— -> 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ::: You only wanted your nails done—until Heeseung pinned you to his desk. 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ::: sugar-baby!fem reader x ceo heesung 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 :: unprotected sex, creampie x2, overstimulation, tears, thigh-gripping, power imbalance, sugar daddy AU, black Amex kink, aftercare, size difference, choking (light), crying, stomach bulge, soft dom, possessive dynamic. ( silly billy- wrap your willy. ) Master-list! <- —

———————— ◮ ◮ ◮ ◮ ————————

You weren’t even trying to be bratty when you asked.

You were just scrolling through Instagram while lying belly-down on his desk, shirt halfway off, your legs swinging absently as your fingers tapped over a nail tech’s post. A close-up of glassy pink chrome tips with glitter hearts embedded near the cuticles.

You wanted them — needed them — and of course, you didn’t plan on paying for them yourself.

“Heesie…” your voice was casual, sweet. You didn’t even look up when he walked in, nose still in your feed. “Can I get my nails done later today?”

Heeseung — fresh out of a boardroom meeting, shirt sleeves rolled, jacket slung over his shoulder — arched a brow. “That depends. How much do they cost?”

You lifted your gaze and gave him the soft look. The one that usually made him melt. “Only like… £150?”

He blinked slowly. Walked closer. Set the jacket over the back of his chair and leaned down, both palms pressed to the desk beside your ribs. You felt the heat of his body even before he touched you.

“Why do I feel like I’m being scammed right now?”

You grinned, still not sitting up. “You can afford it.”

His laugh was low, half in disbelief, half in surrender. He leaned forward a little more, his lips brushing your cheek. “You think this pussy’s worth £150?”

You blinked up at him with a playful pout. “It better be. I didn’t skip two lectures this morning for nothing.”

His eyes dropped to the curve of your ass in your little shorts. His tongue grazed his lower lip.

“Fine,” he murmured. “But you’re paying me back.”

You rolled onto your back slowly, one brow raised. “In what? Cuddles?”

His hand moved. Slid up your thigh. “Two rounds. No breaks. You take every drop.”

Your thighs clenched.

“And I want to see it leaking out when I go to that meeting later,” he whispered, pressing his lips just under your ear. “Still full of me.”

It started on the couch.

He kissed you like he missed you. Not soft — hungry. Both hands around your hips, pulling you into his lap like he needed you there. You straddled him with a whimper, his hand already under your top, palming your tits with practiced greed.

“You don’t even need nails,” he muttered, tugging at your shirt until your bare chest met his. “Your hands are too pretty already.”

His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts and panties in one motion — no warning, no teasing. You gasped as he dragged them down, leaving them around one ankle.

Then, two of his fingers found your slit — and he groaned at the mess.

“So wet already,” he muttered, dragging his fingers through your folds like he was sculpting something. “Knew you were a greedy little thing.”

He slid in slowly, two fingers, curved just right — and your head dropped back with a cry. He pumped them lazily, watching your face like a prize-winning painting. His thumb found your clit and pressed in firm, circling in time with every wet pump.

You were soaked. Embarrassingly, lewdly wet — dripping onto his palm with every slow curl. You clung to his shoulders, breath caught in your throat.

“Hee—!” you gasped. “It’s— it’s already— I’m—”

“Good,” he said, licking his lips. “Don’t you dare hold back.”

Your orgasm came with tears. Thick ones — trailing down your cheeks while your body shook through the high. He fingered you through it, groaning softly as your pussy clenched and fluttered around his fingers.

When he pulled them out, he brought them to your lips.

“Open,” he said.

You did. Let him slide the soaked digits between your lips. You licked them clean with a whimper.

He wiped the tears from your cheek with his knuckles. “There’s one.”

The first round —

— was everything.

He bent you over the edge of his desk, your chest pressed to the glass top, one cheek squished to the cold surface while his hands held your hips like handles. His cock — thick, hot, already leaking — slid between your folds, teasing.

You felt how wet you were. It was everywhere — on your thighs, on his tip, dripping.

“Heesie—” you whispered.

“You can take it,” he whispered back. “Breathe for me.”

And then he pushed in.

You gasped — loud, broken — as he bottomed out. All the way. Fully seated inside you with one sharp thrust. He held you there, hips flush, grinding deeper. You could feel it in your belly — a hard bulge pressing up against your front.

You sobbed, weakly. “You’re so— big— I can’t—”

“You can,” he growled, voice thick. “You’re mine, remember? You were made to take this cock.”

His pace started steady, slow, and then built into deep, bruising thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed off the windows. His desk rattled with every impact.

You were crying again — not from pain, but from the overwhelming fullness. His cock hit something terrifyingly good inside you with every stroke, and your whole body jerked with each thrust.

“Tell me you love it,” he growled, voice barely human.

“I l-love it,” you whimpered. “Heesie— so deep— so full—”

“Say you want it all.”

“I want it— want everything— please—”

He let out a low groan, snapping his hips harder, rougher, until you were gasping between every thrust. He leaned down, lips at your ear.

“You’re gonna take all my cum,” he whispered. “Every drop, baby. You want it in you?”

You nodded, drooling onto the desk now, a crying mess.

“Say it.”

“Want it,” you sobbed. “Wanna be full of you, Heesie— please— please fill me—!”

He groaned loud — and then he was spilling into you. Hot, thick, endless. You felt it — pulse after pulse, so much it pushed back out around his cock, dripping to your thighs, pooling onto the floor.

You lay there, trembling, twitching. Ruined.

And he didn’t even pull out.

Round two was cruel.

He flipped you onto your back, still sheathed inside you, and started moving again.

You screamed.

“No— Hee— too much— too much—!”

“You’re not done,” he growled. “You said you could take it. Be good. Keep your legs open.”

He pinned your thighs to your chest, folding you in half. His cock dragged against your sore walls, every thrust making you cry out. You felt like he was in your ribs. Like he owned your body from the inside.

Tears ran down your face. Your lips trembled.

And he softened. Just a little.

He leaned down, brushing his nose to yours, kissing you gently.

“You’re doing so good,” he whispered. “My good girl. My perfect, pretty girl.”

You came again like that — face wet, body shaking, clenching around his cock like a vice.

And he lost it.

He fucked you through your orgasm, hips stuttering, hands gripping your waist as he pushed deep one last time and filled you again. Even more this time. You felt it spill out the second he stopped moving.

You just laid there, twitching under him, as he collapsed over your body and caught his breath.

Ten minutes later, you were on your side on the couch — legs still trembling, cum dripping out in lazy streams, pooling onto a silk throw.

He was standing over you now, fully dressed, adjusting his tie.

He tossed something onto your bare stomach — heavy, black, unmistakable.

His Amex Centurion card.

“Go get your nails done, sweetheart,” he murmured.

You blinked up at him, dazed. “You’re just… leaving?”

“Big meeting,” he said. “But you’re gonna stay leaking for me, yeah?”

You gave a tired nod.

He smiled. Kissed your cheek. “Good girl.”

Then he left — like nothing had happened.

But you were still there. Messy. Creamy. Stuffed full of him.

And your new nails?

They were gonna be worth every goddamn drop.

———————— ◮ ◮ ◮ ◮ ————————

©svgarz

#Enha ·˚ ༘#enhypen #enhypen x female reader #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung #heesung x reader

128 notes · View notes

e1e4n0r5 · 3 days ago

Text

The Wolf's Bride: Chapter 3

Masterlist, Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing: Ambessa Medarda x Targaryen-coded Princess Reader

Words: 3221

Synopsis: Your wedding night with Ambessa, before you leave for Noxus

Warnings: Forced marriage, biting, oral sex (r! receiving)

The doors shut with a solid thunk, muffling the noise of the feast still echoing down the stone corridors.

You leaned back against them, your shoulders heavy with exhaustion. Your ears rang with laughter you hadn’t shared in. Your limbs ached, not from dancing or wine like Valyrian celebrations, but from being watched, claimed.

The sudden silence of your rooms felt like stepping off a cliff.

Siya was already preparing your rooms for the evening, turning the room from its ceremonial state into something dimmer, more intimate. Softer. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

“You should lie down,” Siya said gently.

You didn’t move at first.

“They looked at me like I was one of her trophies, just a thing she owns now,” you said at last, voice low.

Siya came to you, hands warm on your arms.

“They saw you stand tall,” she said. “They saw you endure.”

“I’m already tired of enduring, and it's only just begun.”

“Then let me help.”

You let yourself be led to the stool at your vanity. Siya knelt before you, unlacing the shoes that felt too tight. She worked with care, as if her hands could undo more than just knots.

The silence stretched, broken only by the crackle of firewood.

“They’ll all be watching,” you said suddenly, eyes on the flames. “They’ll be listening. If she comes here tonight-”

“When,” Siya corrected softly. “She will come.”

You flinched. But nodded.

The two of you headed into your bathing suite, the marble bath already filled with steaming water. Siya had already prepared towels and a fresh robe.

“Do you want to bathe alone?” Siya asked softly, even though she knew your answer.

“No,” you whispered.

You let Siya undress you slowly, gently, careful not to tug at the spots that still ached. She held your hand as you climbed into the large round tub, sinking down into the water. You sat silently as Siya ran a cloth down your arms, your back, your legs. You didn’t speak, didn’t look up.

When Siya gently touched your chin, you blinked quickly, snapped out of your haze.

“It’s not your fault,” Siya murmured, wiping carefully at the handprint forming on your neck.

“But it is,” you said. “I said the vows. I participated in the…” you swallowed thickly, “The consummation. I drank wine. I played the perfect little queen.”

“You survived.”

You closed your eyes. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

Afterward, you dressed in the robe, heading back into your room and sitting gingerly down at your vanity. Siya brushed your hair until it gleamed in the low light, braided it loosely, then pulled back the covers of the bed.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” she asked.

You hesitated. “She’ll be angry.”

“I get the impression she’s always angry.”

You paused again.

Siya’s mouth tightened, but she nodded. “I’ll stay in the other room,” she said. “Just call if you need me.”

You climbed into bed, sinking into the soft mattress. For a moment, you felt only the weight of your old life. The bedsheets. The robe. Siya’s hands in your hair. For the first time since you can remember, you would not be sleeping beside her that night.

You laid still in the bed, staring up at the canopy overhead. The silence roared in your ears, louder than the feast, louder than the palace.

You waited.

Because Ambessa would come.

And you had no idea what part of yourself would be left when she did.

The candle near the hearth had burned halfway down by the time the door opened.

No knock. No voice. Just the heavy creak of the door swinging inward.

You sat upright in bed, robe drawn tightly around your body. The firelight flickered against the silk, making you look even more ethereal.

Ambessa entered like she owned the room – because she did. Her silhouette filled the doorway, broad and dark, outlined by the light from the corridor. She didn’t speak as she stepped inside, closing the door behind her with the click of a lock.

Your hands clenched the sheets on your lap.

Ambessa took her time. She shrugged off the heavy fur-trimmed cloak draped over her shoulders, tossing it across the nearest chair. She stripped away her armour as she watched you, leaving herself in her black underlayers; fitted, functional, no less imposing. Her boots thudded as she crossed the stone floor.

“You’re awake,” she said at last.

You nodded. “Couldn’t sleep,” you replied, voice hoarse.

Ambessa stood beside the bed and looked down at you. You didn’t look up. You kept your eyes on your hands, absently stroking the black silk still wrapped around your cut hand.

“The feast was long,” she said. “You bore it well.”

“I’m accustomed to attending feasts. I was a Princess, after all,” you pointed out.

Ambessa’s smile didn’t fade. She leaned down, her body crowding into your space. “And now you’re a Queen.”

You looked at her in surprise. “I am?”

“A married Princess is a Queen, yes?”

You didn’t bother to explain the intricacies of royal titles. You asked timidly, “Queen of Noxus?”

“How does it feel, saying that out loud?”

“Foreign,” you answered honestly.

She chuckled back at you. “You’ll adapt, little queen.”

Ambessa reached down, pulling her undershirt over her head. She pulled the dark material off in a fluid motion, revealing the thick muscle of her shoulders, her chest marked with old scars and fresh bruises from the battle that brought her here.

“This night is ours,” she said. “By blood and oath and right.”

You stared at her torso, at her breasts, your cheeks flushing as she chuckled darkly at your fascination. The General tugged the sheet away from you, slowly, revealing your soft robe beneath. She hummed. Her fingers found the sash at your waist and held it.

“You’ll wear black and red from now on. You belong to Noxus now. And to me.”

She loosened the sash. You didn’t resist. But you didn’t help either.

The robe parted, slowly, revealing your bare skin beneath. Ambessa looked down at you with visible desire, surveying territory she had already conquered but meant to keep claiming, inch by inch.

“You were born to sit on a cushioned throne,” Ambessa murmured, “but you’ll learn to kneel for me.”

Your breath caught. “You want obedience,” you said. “Not a wife.”

Ambessa leaned in close, her voice curling hot against your cheek. “I want both. And I will have both.”

She pressed her mouth to your throat, slow, heavy. Not gentle. Not rushed. As though you were something she could brand with nothing but breath and pressure.

This was not what you’d imagined your marriage would be. But you would survive.

Ambessa’s hands roamed you slowly as she marked your neck with her lips, pulling you onto your knees before her on the bed. Warmth pooled between your legs. Your fingers curled loosely on her forearms. You allowed your eyes to close.

Ambessa noticed.

“Are you thinking of him?” the General asked lowly, one hand trailing down the outside of your thigh.

You grimaced, pulling back a little. “My father?”

She just laughed at you. “The prince you would have wed?”

You blinked. Your voice was quiet, but firm. “Oh. I had no marriage planned.”

“What about a prince in your dreams? A tall, handsome figure?”

You blinked again. “No. I never imagined what a future husband would look like.”

She smirked, but you weren’t sure why. For a moment, her grip tightened on your thigh. Then she eased, slow and deliberate.

“And you’ll never have to.”

You didn’t answer. Your throat felt tight.

Ambessa leaned in, her breath brushing your collarbone. Her voice lowered to something like a growl.

“Look at me.”

Slowly, you obeyed. Your eyes met Ambessa’s, quietly defiant.

It made her pulse beat faster.

She cupped your cheek with her own cut hand, the silk soft against your skin, even as her touch was unyielding. “You are my wife,” she said. “My queen. Say it.”

“Your war prize,” you replied, evenly. “That’s what I am.”

She slapped your ass cheek, making you squeal. The sharp pain stung your skin, but somehow made the spot at the top of your pussy throb. “Say it.”

Your jaw worked. Your breath came a little faster. Your skin, against your will, betrayed you. “I’m your wife,” you said softly. “Queen of Noxus.”

A low sound of satisfaction came from Ambessa’s throat. Her mouth finally found yours – your first kiss – no demand for sweetness or submission, just the solid claim of power. She kissed you the way she fought; with precision and intent, no hesitation, no softness.

Your body responded, heat unfurling inside you, step by step, breath by breath.

She took her time. No rush, no fumbling. Ambessa was a woman who understood the mechanics of pleasure and domination, and she used them with practiced ease. Every touch, every shift of her body, was a message:

You belong to me. I won. You are mine.

She lifted your body with ease, moving the both of you onto the bed, your head resting back on your pillow as she held herself over you. With a hand in your hair, she held you in place as she kissed you deeply, swallowing down your moans and gasps as her tongue conquered yours.

She kissed her way down to your chest, cupping and squeezing your breasts in her hands, feeling their tenderness. You moaned softly as she took your nipple into her mouth, lapping around it. You squealed as she bit down, lightly, just testing your reaction. She would be gentler with you. To begin with.

She worked down your stomach, pressing kisses over your skin and hips, then biting the flesh next to your navel. You gasped and whined, but she didn't stop until she had given you multiple sets of teeth marks.

Then she reached her destination. Settling on her front between your legs, she pushed your thighs apart. She looked at your centre closely, as if inspecting you. You blushed furiously, trying to close your legs.

She stopped you firmly, pushing your thighs apart further. “I've earned the right to look at my prize, little one.”

She spread your outer lips delicately, looking at your throbbing clit and pink hole, still sore from the consummation.

You whimpered as your mind flooded with images of her biting you there. “Please don’t hurt me.”

She looked up at you. “As I said, this is my prize. I am entitled to treat it how I wish-”

You shook your head beseechingly, trying to sit up, but she pinned you down with one hand pressed between your breasts.

“But we will start gently. You’re far too innocent for those types of games. For now, at least,” she chuckled, as if she knew a secret you didn’t. Sliding her hand down your chest, she touched the spot at the top of your core, making you gasp again. “This is your clit, child. A source of great pleasure for us.” Moving her finger down to your entrance, she circled it. “This is your vagina – your cunt – where I fuck you.” Sliding further still, she touched her thumb to your back hole, earning a terrified whimper. “This, I will also take in the future. But for now, we will focus our attention back on your clit and hole. I’m assuming if you didn’t even know what your clit was, that no-one has ever paid any attention to it?”

Your lip trembled, shaking your head.

“Then this might overwhelm you. But it will be very pleasurable, child. So, lie back. I don’t want to hear any complaints from you,” she threatened.

Fisting the sheets in your hands, you nodded bravely, somewhat reassured that she wasn’t out to hurt you.

Keeping her eyes on yours, she lowered her head, extended her tongue, and flicked your clit. You gasped, your hips twitching. She did it again, earning the same reaction. Smiling wickedly, she pressed her tongue more firmly to you, moving it side to side. You groaned loudly, your head falling back against the pillow.

She chuckled again, setting to work devouring your precious cunt.

And you, for all your pride, couldn’t stop your body from responding. It left you angry and ashamed, even as your breath hitched, your hips shifted, and Ambessa’s hands gripped you tighter with every sound she pulled from you as she feasted on your pussy, holding you down to the bed as you cried.

She wrangled three more orgasms from you, even as you begged her to stop. She ignored you, gently sliding a finger inside you as she bit your inner thigh. The bite shouldn’t have made you finish again, but it did.

By the end of it, you lay breathless beneath her, a sheen of sweat on your skin, your fingers still twisted in the linen sheets.

Ambessa remained propped up on one arm, looking down at you, watching.

“There,” the General murmured. “That’s how a queen should look after the wedding night.”

You didn’t respond, just turned your head away in shame. The woman who had conquered your city, had just conquered you. And you had moaned the whole time.

Ambessa leaned closer, brushing a strand of damp hair away from your brow. “You’ll learn, child,” she said, somewhat soothingly. “You’ll learn how to be mine.”

Ambessa was gone when you woke up. You stirred slowly, your whole body aching. Aching in places you didn’t know existed, deeper inside you than you thought possible. You groaned as you rolled onto your back, mentally cataloguing all the pains in your body.

There was a soft knock on the door.

“Your Grace?”

Siya.

You called for her to enter, pulling the sheet over your chest.

The door opened, and Siya stepped in carefully, carrying fresh towels and a bundle of clothes over her arm. Her eyes immediately went to the bed, and to you curled beneath the sheets.

The sight hit her like a blow.

Siya didn’t speak at first. She moved with care, setting the clothes down, preparing a clean robe. She exhaled slowly, the kind of breath that didn’t release tension, only buried it deeper.

“May I help you dress, my queen?”

The title stung in both their mouths.

You sat up, not bothering to hold the sheet up. Your thighs were marked, bruises bloomed along your hips, multiple bite marks on your stomach. Siya’s gaze caught them all, and her mouth went tight.

“I want to wash first.”

“Of course.” She headed into the bathing suite, running the water, coming back in to attend you.

You moved to the edge of the bed, and Siya stepped forward to help, wrapping you in a silk robe before you stood. It brushed just below your knees, every inch of your body sore as you gingerly made your way into the suite.

Siya helped you into the bath and knelt beside it. She said nothing at first, but you could feel the way her fingers trembled. The way her chest moved in restrained anger.

“Did she hurt you?” Siya asked quietly, a crack in her voice.

You trembled as she ran a cloth over your shoulders, remembering how intense and overwhelming the pleasure had been. “Not like a man would.”

“Will she do it again?”

“Yes,” you stated confidently.

Siya hesitated. “Do you want her to?”

You didn’t answer.

You were departing for Noxus that day. Ambessa was impatient to return to the Noxian capitol, having accomplished what they set out to do: conquer Valyria, ensure obedience.

Ambessa, unbeknownst to you, had ordered your seamstresses to make new clothes for you – red and black, some gold or grey. You only found out when Siya laid out a new dress on the bed that morning, to help you dress, and you hadn’t recognised it. Black leather bodice, red fabric. Not your usual style. But as you stood in front of the mirror, examining your completed outfit, you had to reluctantly admit that it suited you.

When it came time to leave on the Noxian amphibious airship, you stood on the dock, watching workers and soldiers bustle about loading crates onto ships. Some were your belongings that had just been shoved into crates for you to organise later, others were spoils of war for the Noxians to parade back home.

You spotted your father walking down the dock, watching the loading as well, hands folded stoically behind his back as he observed your ancestors’ valuables be loaded onto the conqueror’s ships.

You crossed the distance between you. He looked you over, at the way you held yourself straight despite the ache in your bones, your dress in the colour of your conquerors.

You spoke to him softly in your native language. “You shouldn’t have bowed.” You didn’t mean to sound chastising, but his face hardened.

“I would rather kneel and breathe than die proud.”

“What happened to ‘all men must die’?” you challenged. “The words of our people, the way we live our lives, unafraid of death…?”

He shook his head. “You are young. You do not understand. It’s one thing to say you will brave the sword; it’s another matter when the sword is at your neck.”

You shook your head. “Siya had the sword on her neck. She didn’t bend.”

“Siya isn’t a king. A husband. A father.”

“And now your cowardice has cost you two of those things,” you snapped back.

“I’m still your father.”

“I’m Queen of Noxus now; I’m not permitted to be your daughter anymore.”

“So, you would rather have died a Princess, than live as a Queen?”

“Her Queen; her spoil of war. How can you even ask me that? Yes, I would rather have died in my home, in the arms of my family. Rather than being taken as a prize to a foreign land by a brutal warlord, with my people’s blood on her hands.”

You settled into a horrible silence. People continued to move around you as you stood in silence, loading the ship with goods and belongings.

But words didn’t come, from either of you.

Ambessa called your name from the ship’s entrance.

They were ready to go.

Little did you know, she had been watching your conversation the whole time.

You gave her a small nod back, your hands clenched together in front of you.

“This might be last time we ever see each other,” you tried to keep your voice strong, but your trembling lip betrayed you. You wanted to reach out to him, to beg him for more words, for more emotion. To tell you he loved you and that he was sorry.

But your father just nodded. “Possibly.”

You waited for him to speak again. But he didn’t. He had no more words to say to you. Too weak to admit how he really felt about your marriage. Too proud.

You lifted your chin at his lack of response, hardening your heart against your own father, pulling your shoulders back. “Look after my mother. For your own sake,” you threatened in the common tongue.

And you headed up the ramp onto the ship, passing by Ambessa’s hand as she offered it to you, tears burning your eyes.

Chapter 4

Taglist: @sevikas-whore, @djstinkyfartz, @jinririz, @abbyandcaitlover, @ayuxiru, @bebeluvvv, @youdoyou-andiwilldome, @kittymrtnezz69, @wyprettylilone, @jlb20416, @autisticratbagtm, @theoreticalfreak, @riotstemple29, @zaunite-516, @zmbieeee, @godhatesgoodgirls, @yoyo-w, @milanyas, @unknownomgg, @bella-but-not-hadid444, @marvelwomenarehot0, @nenoino, @opalundercover, @beggingonmykneesforher, @qlelwow, @loneliestafterparty, @flowersareup, @niceminipotato, @fruitfulfashion, @dut1fuldyk3

#the wolf's bride #arcane #ambessa x reader #ambessa arcane #arcane ambessa #ambessa medarda

124 notes · View notes

obvithe-bestsoph · 2 days ago

Note

48 with pedri pls

No. 48 | "Just get over here and kiss me." PG8

masterlist requests

prompt list (if you request a prompt, please request a player for it as well!) warnings: very suggestive, but nothing graphic.

"Just get over here and kiss me."

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

You’re only wearing his shirt. It’s not on purpose at first. Well…maybe a little. The fabric’s oversized, smelling like him, warm from his drawer. Your thighs are bare, your hair messy, and you haven’t even washed your face yet. You just wanted water. But the kitchen’s quiet and the sun’s pouring in, and now there’s Pedri leaning against the doorframe with a look on his face that makes your skin feel like it’s buzzing.

“Hola, corazón,” he says, voice thick with sleep and tinted with mischief. “That my shirt?”

You look down at yourself dramatically, like it’s a surprise. “Might be.”

“Mmm.” His eyes travel slowly. Very slowly. “Didn’t realize you were gonna start the day trying to kill me.”

You roll your eyes, turning to grab a glass from the cabinet. “Oh, please.”

But you hear him coming up behind you. Bare feet padding over the floor. One arm wraps around your waist, the other snaking under yours to help hold the glass as you fill it from the tap. He rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs.

“This is the worst kind of torture,” he says, voice low against your ear.

You tilt your head toward him a little, barely hiding your smile. “Wearing your clothes is torture?”

“No,” he murmurs. “You. In my clothes. And nothing else. That’s the torture.”

You pretend to consider that as you take a sip of water. He trails kisses along your shoulder, slow and lazy, like he’s got all day. You figure he does. No training today. No travel. Just you, him, and the blessed peace of a free weekend.

You set the glass down and turn in his arms. He’s shirtless, his curls messy, face still warm from sleep. You trace a finger down his chest, featherlight.

“You want me to change?” you ask innocently.

Pedri’s jaw tightens. His hands grip your hips like he’s weighing the pros and cons of keeping them there. “That’s not what I said.”

You raise your brows. “But if it’s torture…”

He groans dramatically and buries his face in your neck. “You’re evil.”

You laugh, a light, teasing thing. “You started it.”

He pulls back enough to look you in the eye. “And I’m finishing it.”

“Oh yeah?” You tilt your head. “How?”

He doesn’t answer with words. His hands slide under the hem of his shirt on you, thumbs brushing bare skin. He leans in, kissing you like it’s a promise. Slow, deep, familiar. You sigh into it, melting a little. But before you can go too far, he pulls back with a smirk.

“Breakfast first,” he says, voice rough.

You blink at him. “You’re kidding.”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

You give him a once-over. “You look like a man hanging on by a thread.”

Pedri laughs at that, all teeth. “Exactly. And if we don’t eat, I’ll have no energy left to survive the rest of the morning.”

You narrow your eyes. “Fine. But I’m not cooking.”

His hands slip from your waist to your thighs as he lifts you onto the counter like it’s nothing. “Didn’t ask you to.” He kisses your knee, then your inner thigh, lingering there for a moment. “You just sit pretty.”

You swear your heart skips several beats.

He moves around the kitchen like he knows exactly what he’s doing, which, annoyingly, he does. You watch him pull out eggs, bread, tomatoes, and that hot sauce he puts on everything. He’s humming under his breath, no care in the world, while your mind is still short-circuiting from the ‘just sit pretty’.

You swing your legs, pretending to be casual. “So what’s the plan for today?”

He glances over his shoulder. “Besides worshiping you?”

“Pedri.”

“Okay, okay,” he says, laughing. “How about… breakfast. Then couch. Then maybe a walk. Then more couch. And if you’re really nice to me, maybe I’ll let you wear another one of my shirts later.”

You pretend to gag. “Let me?”

He walks over with a slice of fruit and pops it in your mouth before you can finish your sass. “You’re welcome.”

You munch it dramatically. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet,” he says, turning back to the stove, “you’re still in my kitchen. Wearing my shirt. Falling more in love with me by the minute.”

You cross your arms. “You’re cocky today.”

He shoots you a grin over his shoulder. “I’m right today.”

Once the food’s done, he plates it neatly, grabs two forks, and lifts you off the counter to carry you bridal style to the couch. You laugh the whole way.

“Pedri, put me down.”

“No,” he says simply. “You’ll run away.”

“I won’t.”

“You say that now.”

When he finally sets you down, you grab the plate and start eating while he lounges beside you, head tipped back, arm thrown over the back of the couch like a movie scene.

You nudge him with your foot. “Stop being dramatic.”

He looks over at you, eyes soft. “Can’t help it. You bring it out of me.”

That shuts you up a little. You chew your food more carefully. When you glance over again, he’s still staring.

“What?”

He shrugs. “Just thinking about how hot you are. Like, ridiculously hot.”

You narrow your eyes. “You just said we had to eat first.”

“We are eating.”

You push your plate away slightly. “You’re distracting.”

Pedri sets his aside too and shifts closer. His hand lands on your thigh and stays there, warm and grounding.

“Then stop pretending you’re not into it,” he says, voice low.

You scoff, trying not to smile. “Into what?”

“This.” His fingers tighten just slightly. “Me. You. The shirt. This vibe.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Say it again,” he murmurs, “but like you mean it this time.”

You shake your head and lean back, but he follows, until you’re nose to nose. He’s grinning.

“Just get over here and kiss me,” he whispers.

You don’t need to be told twice.

You lean in and press your lips to his, and it’s like setting a match to gasoline. Pedri moves with purpose, like he’s been waiting all morning. His hand cups your jaw, his thumb strokes your cheek. The kiss deepens quickly, warm and hungry and still soft at the edges. His fingers trail under the hem of the shirt again, and this time you don’t stop him.

You break away to breathe, and his forehead rests against yours.

“Breakfast was good,” you say, voice breathless.

“Glad you liked it,” he murmurs, already kissing the corner of your mouth. “Because I’m skipping lunch.”

You laugh into his lips, and your whole body feels like it’s smiling.

God help you, you’re never giving this shirt back.

#pedri gonzalez #pedri #pedri gonzalez fic #pedri fic #obvithebestsoph!pedri #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri x reader #fc barcelona #fanfiction #football #football fic #culer #PG8

69 notes · View notes