#someone please take a bat and knock me out I’m so tired | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cryptfile · 5 months ago

Note

Hii!! Can I request frenchie from the boys x f! reader, maybe she's patching him up after a long day? <33

yes,,, thank you for this from the bottom of my heart, might went above with what you actually asked, but whatever, i’m living my best and just rolling with it.

⟢ mountains at midnight, [ frenchie x f!reader ]

summary — After a failed relationship, Serge knocks on your door half baked / half bleeding-to-fucking-death.

warnings — angst, some smooches, it's implied that reader is in her twenty-somethings, filthy mouth, frenchie is in loOOoOve here, some fighting, fluff in the end, usual the boys content aka violence, blood, drugs, mentions of murder, infinite sadness, if you’re a medic you might hate me, little nina is a warning herself.

side notes — hi lovely people on the internet! first things first: i've recasted frenchie to dev patel cause fuck zionists, also loved writing for frenchie, been writing about gen v on wattpad but this? a whole different level. word's on the street my ass latin, so you know now english is not my first language and if there's any mistakes is my own fault being just a girlie out here,, comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated and very much loved! thank you guys so much for the support.

It’s way too late when you hear the knocks on your door.

You’re not used to receive visitors in the middle of the night. Your friends know you hate people to show up uninvited so it’s almost a non-spoken arrangement: You sell the weed to afford med school and they keep you out of trouble.

So you can’t stop yourself from thinking the absolute worst when you hear the noise in your front door, already cursing cause you don't have these expensive cameras that allows you to watch who's outside: What if the police knows you’re selling weed? Worse. What if Vought discovered all about your nice ability of astral projection? Just the thought of it makes you grab the bat, trying to find something to defend yourself with as if it’s going to work against someone as powerful as Homelander.

When you open the door, it’s something similar to seeing a ghost.

Cause that's what Frenchie is to you. A fever dream you must experience after being so tired, after exhausting yourself with the damn residency. You've been doing turns lately in the hospital and you are drained all the fucking time, too many hours standing and trying not to fuck it up it’s now passing you the check.

But when he talks. Jesus fucking Christ, when he talks, you just know it's him in the flesh, stopping the world for a minute — "Bonne nuit," he says all normal like you understand more than just the basics of French. "Long time no see, mon ami."

How does he still remembers your address? How did he managed to get to your apartment when you explicitly said you don't want him anywhere near you? Your heart skips a beat when you're realizing the blood covering his shirt, the dirt on his skin, the bruise forming in his eye: he's injured.

It makes sense soon after, why he's there outside your place, surpassing the locks that protected the building and are supposed to keep people like him out yet, failed miserably. You let out a scoff, taking mental notes of talking about security to the building manager tomorrow.

"You need to go to a hospital, there's also a vet clinic a couple’ blocks away, both do the work" It's tempting. The thought of closing the door in his face after he was a complete asshole with you last time you saw him, but you cannot bring yourself to be cruel, to leave him standing while he seeks for somebody to stitch him up. — "Told you not to come here, Frenchie."

He's different now. He has now cut his hair in a different way, split lip while he pouts like he has loose a huge fight. He looks better, more composed even, but you don't let it slip while you look at him, debating if he won the fight he was involved in or if he just managed to escape, as usual, always in danger.

"Please," he says placing his hand in the door frame like he just read your mind, preventing you from closing the door. "Need your help, mon docteur."

When he looses balance you know shit's for real, quickly grabbing him by the waist as you take one of his hands to place it in your shoulder. He smells like blood, sweat, and weed, and it takes a minute for you to get used to it, being so intense at first when you hold him close to you that it stays with you even when you help him lay in the couch, already knowing it's going to be stained forever.

Fuck's sake. It's not physically possible to say no to him.

You hate him from the moment he's inside. Hate how he has you now all stressed looking for everything you need to prevent him from bleeding out on your couch, still trying to understand if you're worried about his well being or if it's actually about the fact that he could die in your apartment with good grams of weed well hidden, leading you to arrest under micro-trafficking and possible murder charges.

And when you see the large cut on his stomach, you know exactly why you guys didn't work out in the first place, why his way of living was so different than yours trying to keep a low profile, not used to get in trouble with superheroes, usually surviving. You hold your breath in as you notice the situation, his body bruised, blood spread all over like it was a medal.

“The person who did this didn’t do any harm to your organs” you say inspecting, lucky bastard. “But you're gonna’ need stitches.”

"See? I’m gonna' be fine, docteur" he says almost trying to keep you steady while you took the new-moon-shaped needle, that damn nickname you hate with all your guts. You know he would not come if it wasn't absolutely necessary, his gaze following you like he cannot possibly believe he's talking to you again after all that time promising not to. "Not planning to die on your settee."

"You're high" it's not a question but more of a statement. "So please, shut up if you are really not planning to die tonight."

You’re struck by his accent, the way he combined the words so easily while you worked on stitching his skin, finally stopping the bleeding as you can breathe in peace. Med school has been awful, but at least you can do decent stitches even under the dim lights of the lamps, looking at your work almost proud moments after.

Handled him like a fucking pro.

You seem to forget about the contact, being trained to be a doctor has hit deep down now that you can keep professional at all times, but for Frenchie, even after being pretty much stabbed, he managed to fill his mind with memories of you while your cold fingertips close the cut, to think, once again, that he does not deserve you at all, your meeting being a mistake he wouldn't do all over again.

He stills hallucinates about when he met you in your second year of university, selling weed in your campus parties making a pretty good list of clients for yourself. He remembers being so mad at you for stealing possible clientèle at the time, he was planning on beating your ass and scare you out until you didn't dare to sell at all. At least, that was the idea until he notices his potential nemesis. You.

He talked about the situation with Little Nina convincing her he could take care of the problem, but in reality, he chooses to make you his problem instead. You were just a twenty-something med student that stayed up late at night and sell plain weed in order to afford some stuff he knew you needed: How could he be aggressive with you?

He's almost whipped before even talking to you, after following you for a while without you even noticing, he's studying you like you're, indeed, the enemy. And when he finally talks to you in that stupid party, you finally seem to notice he's not there for a nice business, not when he's pulling you aside from all the noise.

You both are so different it's annoying, however, fits so good must be a curse.

You managed to work out the next couple of months, split the clients, the money, and there were no suspects until Nina found out and killed one of your classmates in response, leaving you surrounded by cops and detectives and a profuse sadness that never seemed to go away.

Frenchie is pretty sure you're one of the best thing he used to have in his life, utterly convinced that he must remain far from you after years of not talking to you, yet, he's unable to do it much longer. Maybe it's the weed, the fever and the pain all combined together, but when he noticed he was close to your place, he choose to seek for your help instead of turning to his teammates.

He's no good for you. Even after not being around Nina and changing completely. He's simply no good for you.

You work in silence, unsure of what to say at first. Your breathing is steady as you cover the wound with bandages, neck sore already after keeping the same position over the minutes without sleeping much all that week. Frenchie doesn't whine even when it hurts, making it easier to work with as you check other injuries.

When it comes to the split lip, you know it's going to be a thing.

"Thanks for patching me up," he says while you press the alcohol revealing a much smaller wound that you'd actually imagined, mouth's always bleed tons. "I'm just sorry for showing up so late, mon ami."

Inconsiderate. Your eyes dart the movements of his upper lip while he speaks, trying to clean the blood while it moves with no victory.

"Please talk to me princesse" he says soon after, crazy by your silence — “Please.”

Your eyes narrow in response, looking at him while inspecting his lip. “How did you manage to get so damn fucked up?” You wished you didn't ask, because you already know how he got it, how he was working now for a whole different group doing suicidal missions all the time, heard it from a close friend.

He stays silent for a while, and you cannot help but roll your eyes in response. You’re used to it, to the lack of information and the blatant lie he always used to tell just to reassure you, so instead, you continue cleaning his wounds with alcohol, pressing the gauze with less patience now that he regained the color of his skin. You’re simply not doing it anymore.

“Just stay still so we can do this fast enough” you say tired already, having to deal with him even just ten miserable minutes results in a classic headache.

Silence. You are dragged by the current into an awkward silence, inspecting the stitches and the bruises that now appeared in his skin. He’s warm to the touch in spite of the blood loss, and you cannot help but worry about his well-being deep in your mind, hating him for it: The guy disappears however he wants to, and now has the fucking nerve to show up like nothing ever happened? God.

It’s impossible to keep quiet for the next two minutes, specially when you notice he’s biting the inside of his cheek like he’s stopping himself from saying something stupid — “What?”

“Nothing,” he responds, avoiding your gaze. "I know you're mad at me, docteur."

"I'm pretty mad at you, you're right" you admit in a low voice, finally taking your utensils to the kitchen sink when you finish, cursing when you notice you got blood on your shirt. "That's why you're waiting an hour before leaving. Not involving in whatever is going on in your life right now.”

His pained expression makes you almost regret everything you say. He knew he deserved it, but it didn't stop him from being miserable when he hears you, the cold words lingering in the air as they repeated in his mind over and over again.

"Sober up. Leave after."

It's almost a command, and he hates the sound of it, far from the way he wanted you to command him in reality, the sound of your voice making him shiver. He hates every second of it, remembering why he kept far, giving you space to continue your life without him in the picture.

It stings on Frenchie’s chest, and you try to keep your pride high enough to not think about how much you actually missed him, how you're done with him after moving on at least twice since the last time you saw him, staring at the blood circling in the drain.

"I'm sorry, mon ami" he says when you pass close to him, grabbing the dirty towels as you search, in your mind, for ways to make miracles in that sofa, and you believe him for a second when he grabs you by the wrist, cause deep down you just want him to be sorry for all the shit he did, the lies, the danger.

You just started to sell weed again recently, and his sudden visit makes you so damn uncomfortable: You don't want to take anyone's clients, you learned that the hard way. "I'll never be able to make it up to you docteur, not even in a million years. Je ne voulais pas te faire de mal."

You don't fully get what he says, and you blame it on that fucking app that's been teaching you french all along, you don't even dare to look at him until you think you can handle his intense gaze, now burning in your cheek — "Created this huge mess just to leave me alone to the fucking wolves."

“And there will not be a day I won’t regret it.”

“You’re not going to be able to make it up to me even in a century, Serge.”

It happens all so sudden after, when he pulls you down slightly, enough to press the palm of your hand flat against his chest, the feeling of his heartbeat giving you straight up chills. It’s beating so fast you’re sure it’s abnormal, the expression of his face almost begging you to have patience with him, that he just needs you beyond explanation.

“Don’t call me like that,” he asks, and you’re just standing there, so fucking close, looking at him slightly blushed.

“Like what?”

“Like I don’t mean anything to you, coeur. Like we’re strangers.”

“I don’t know you, at all” you admit in a low voice, and it saddens you to say it out loud — “I don’t think I ever did.”

God. You don’t expect it, you don’t expect the visit, the way he enters to your life again through the main door, dissolving you completely. You don’t expect any of it, it catches you by surprise without giving you any time to even prepare yourself.

He somehow manages to make sit down close to him, composed now that the he’s not bleeding-to-death. And fuck, it takes a minute for you to adjust, to notice what you’re actually doing, the feeling of his hand holding your wrist making it impossible for you to leave, to even put some necessary distance, his breathing changing as you got closer.

“We’re not strangers, mon docteur, never would when my heart beat that fast for you. To me, you’re the most real thing in my life” he’s smiling, and you can’t help but look at him amazed of his way of always change everything around. “It’s visible you don’t want me here, but I cannot stop myself from coming every single time, tu me manques, coeur.”

“You miss me, huh?” you ask almost in disbelief.

“You are missing from me,” Frenchie corrects. He knows the world is a pretty fucked up place to be, but he just wants you to be okay, to avoid trouble and just live a regular happy life.

You are willing to reply, to say something about it, about the time you spend hating his ass and missing him at the same time, but you stay silent when you can feel his gaze following your every movement, when he’s the one that puts his free hand on your cheek, his touch being enough to warm up your face, staining your cheeks red.

It’s so intense. The lack of air, the way his eyes find yours in demand of something you already know.

“Please forgive me” Frenchie says, blatant sincerity. “I’m deeply sorry, mon docteur. I’m the worst thing you’ll ever met, and I cannot help but come back to you.”

His words echo in your brain, and you don’t know exactly when, but you lean into his touch, the palm of his hand warm against your cheek.

“Fuckin’ hate you.”

You don’t. You know you don’t hate him at all. It’s quite the opposite, and it weights on your chest as he smiles like he just got his life back in track again, like it’s everything it takes to make him really happy after all that shit he’s enduring day after day.

And you try put some distance between both of you seconds after, but your heart betrays you sooner than you expect and it’s all it takes for him to finally kiss you, a tender kiss at first that freezes you for an instant, his touch transforming in something else — Something your skin has already experienced before, a taste you’ve savoured long time ago. Makes you shiver when you realize how it feels not foreign at all but just natural, like something you already learnt but it’s kept in the depths of your mind.

He’s damanding when pressing his lips against you, and it clouds your mind for a second, a thick gaze that just makes you dumb at his touch. His hands on your hips are pulling you closer without even caring for his damn stitches, and it becomes intoxicating, the need to keep on kissing him, to have him close, you forget about Little Nina, the weed, and almost everything that surrounds you.

Heavy breathing you seemed to understand it all. Nose touching his as you get it. Maybe you do need to talk. Maybe it’s important to keep your guard down one last time. You cannot avoid him much longer, not when your own heart aches in need.

Serge’s like climbing a mountain at midnight: Just impossible.

#frenchie x reader #frenchie #the boys x reader #the boys #cryptfile // the boys #the boys fluff #frenchie the boys #frenchie imagine #drabble

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dainty-fingertips · 2 years ago

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Hey, it's me again, I requested the tssm sinister six and the engineer, and I crave more of that good stuff. How about y/n getting kidnapped by someone and they rescue them? Maybe some angsty moments of "please they won't come to save me." YOU'RE SO GOOD AND I CRAAAAAVE.

songbird you are amazing and you know just how to scratch that little itch I’ve had since middle school of COURSE YOU CAN HAVE SECONDS

(literally went and found this on google I am still humbly requesting tssm sinister six gifs)

being a resident engineer for the sinister six, and how they come to save you from getting kidnapped

Not every villain has the same idea of how to properly ask someone out on a date

Which is normally fine! Everyone’s different!!

But Green Goblin/Harry Osborn needs to learn that holding someone bound in his warehouse lab for days isn’t usually the best way…😬

“Alright, baby. Listen to me very, very closely.”

“I don’t know what you want with me! I’m j- I’m just a freelance engineer!”

“Is it really freelance if you only work in one place, dear? Besides, I’m afraid that’s not quite why I’ve brought you here with me…”

He’s constantly got a very sharp smile on his masked lips while he talks to you

Every time he walks in you start to feel queasy

“Can you… loosen the rope some?”

“No can do, baby. Hehehehe…”

He would probably call you shawty at some point and you most likely started sobbing like that was it that was your breaking point

“Tell me, Yn. Where oh WHERE are your knights in shining armor? It seems they’ve not put in as much work to come find you as I did ♡”

“Shut up! They care about me too much to let someone like you kidnap me!”

“Oooh, kidnap is such a strong word!”

You’re not even quite sure how he knew you existed

Certainly unsure of why he (like every villain in the state) liked you so much

Such is the fate of Yn🫡

But as the days passed… you began to worry.

He got more smug with every hour

“Oh, dear, hehehehee! It’s been how long now?” He’d try to flirt with you.

“…”

“What’s that? No more remarks about your saviors?”

“Please. They aren’t coming to save me.”

You had really actually kind of lost hope. You’d been here almost a week, sleeping and waking in the same position more times than you could count, having to swallow her pride and eat the food he gave her himself

It had passed the point where she had hoped for something to happen.

She woke up with no idea what time it was or the date. This had become common.

She had impeccable timing, truly, because Goblin ran in immediately after. Maybe sprinting would be a better word.

“Ahhh, rise and shine, doll! I need you to do me a teeny favor. SHUT UP.”

He swiftly grabbed thick tape from one of the tables and covered her mouth.

He undid her bounds but kept her wrists tied, and he shoved her in the storage closet.

“This will only be temporary, doll. Be back soon.”

The force of the push knocked her into the ground, and she was too stunned and too tired to fully grasp what had happened

Why was there so much noise?

What even is all of that?? She strained up to her feet and leaned against the door.

An over-saturated bass line, 70,000 tasers, sledgehammers, and… oh my god, it was them.

The realization struck you like a bat and quickly you fully woke up.

You turned around to try and open the door with your hands, but something outside was preventing it.

The most you could do was just try and make as much noise as you could and hope they could hear you.

Doc Ock/Otto Octavius would be the one to hear the noises made inside the closet

“In there! She must be in that closet!”

He used an actuator to take the chair propped against the handle and fling it across the room, busting it into pieces.

He unlocked the door and opened it just as Goblin fled the warehouse, severely wounded and just barely standing

You stood in awe when you saw him behind the door, and the sudden look of relief that crossed his face when he looked into your eyes

“That moronic brute…” he mumbled, carefully peeling the tape away with his thumb and forefinger.

The rest of the five were crowded over his shoulder calling out to you, desperate to see you again and make sure you weren’t hurt.

His actuators cut your bounds and on pure instinct you fell into him, capturing him in a frightened hug.

He immediately wrapped his arms around you, placing one hand on the back of your head.

“It wont ever happen again. The Green Goblin won’t be showing rearing his ugly teeth again, rest assured.”

Electro/Max Dillon shimmied around him and hugged you from behind

“You… you’re not hurt, are you…?”

You shake your head silently.

“Thank God, okay.” He sighed shakily.

“Ey, come on!! We gotta see er too, doc!” Rhino/Alex O’Hirn voiced, only being able to see the top of your head.

Reluctantly, the Doctor let you go, but Electro pulled you in for one last embrace before he lost you to the others.

“I swear to you, I’ll never leave your side again.”

You turn around and give him a hug as well before turning to the other four.

“Sweetheart, c’mere…” Shocker/Montana said, taking his mask off and holding you close to him.

You wrap your arms around him as well, telling him that you were happy to see him as well.

“If anyone thinks to lay a finger on you again, let me know. They won’t make it out alive.” He assured her.

“Stop hoggin’ er!!” Sandman/Flint Marko complained, shoving Montana out of the way.

“We’re just glad to see you alive, doll.” He said, placing a warm hand on your shoulder.

Alex got on his knees and looked at you in enamor.

“You’s pretty tough, you know dat?” He said, sighing.

You looked up at him with a small smile and approached him with your arms open, wrapping them around the thick plating fused to his neck.

“… you’s pretty sweet, too.” He (VERY carefully) hugged you back, making sure he didn’t accidentally crush you

Vulture/Adrian Toomes waited calmly for your embrace himself in the air, eye-level with you as you hugged Alex.

He pulled you into his arms and hugged you tightly as he slowly descended to the floor, afterward looking at you in shameful sorrow. He felt guilty.

“Im so happy to see you again, Doctor Toomes.” You told him, smiling.

The old man only blushed and smiled back, tucking hair behind your ear so you could see a bit better.

“Agh, come on!! I didn’t even get a hug!” Flint complained with a snarl, making you laugh.

“Come here! I’ll give you one!”

He groaned and walked to you, swiftly embracing you in his strong arms. He smelled like the beach.

“I missed ya, you liddle broad.” He said, burying his face in your neck.

“I missed you too, Flint.” You said back to him, placing a hand on the back of his head.

“Alright, alright! That’s long enough!” Max shouted, manually breaking the two of you apart.

“Come on, Electro! Its been a whole week nearly! Whaddya want from me?!” Flint argued, and the two began to squabble again

Doc placed a hand on your shoulder and you turned to look at him.

“I’d say we’re homebound.”

Home, yeah… that sounds nice, doesn’t it?

The group walks out of the warehouse under the cover of night and they begun their relatively short journey back home.

She had never realized how much her home with them meant to her until this, but… she would never forget it. Even if they’re all still fighting about who gets to sit next to you at the table tomorrow morning for breakfast, you still get to laugh at them and choose yourself.

Its a nice life, engineering for a bunch of supervillains.

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silly-thinkings · 3 years ago

Text

Venom/Reader x Batman pt.3

Thank you so much for reading! let me know what you think in the comments :3 Please do not repost my work. likes and reblogs are appreciated! ~~+~~

Y/N’s head gently swayed side to side as her typing began to slow down. “Y/N” She didn't respond, she felt woozy. Ready for sleep to take her to the clouds. “Y/N” Venom's voice dragged out in her head "Hmm?” “Oh for heaven's sake” Out of nowhere, Y/N slammed her head onto the table “Ow” annoyed she angrily stood from her desk and walked towards the mirror. “huh. That woke you up didn't it” Venom snarled in her head. Y/N put a hand over her nose “You didn't have to break anything. You could have called my name like a normal person.” “I was calling your name Y/N! You did not answer me” Venom faced her. He immediately noticed the bags under her eyes “You are tired. We should go home.” “I’m fine V.” Venom growled, “You are not fine!” "Shhhhhh. What did I say about raising your voice at work.” Venom opened his mouth to respond but stopped. His eyes squinted as he slowly snaked to the door. “Someone’s coming.” “Right. There are some papers that I need Bruce to sign.” Y/N picked up some papers and walked to the door. She opened it but Venom slammed it shut. “Now I most currently know you are out of it Y/n. You do see that I am still out here, and yet you almost exposed us.” Y/N placed a hand on her hair “you say that I need rest. Don't you know that applies to you too?” Y/N pointed an accusing finger at the Alien “I can't exactly sleep when we’re saving people in this city.” Venom kept his mouth shut. She’s tired because of him? Y/N noticed his face slightly falling “Venom, I can tell you are enjoying yourself in hero work. It brings a smile to my face that you’ve been threatening people less about eating their brains.” Venom moved his head side to side “Well… you do keep up with my chocolate cravings.” Y/N nodded “That's right. I’m doing my part and you’re doing yours. So-“ she let out a yawn “Don't worry about me too much ok?” Venom heard the person coming closer. He nuzzled his head on her cheek before disappearing. ~~~ Bruce cleared his throat as he stood behind the door with a heavy bouquet of flowers and a box of fancy chocolates that Alfred help him make. Well, more like he provided the extra ingredients while Alfred made them. After intensive research, The only thing Bruce found out was that Brains and Chocolate have phenylethylamine.

That could be the reason why Y/N ate the thing every single day. Maybe as a means to making Venom docile.

Bruce knocked at the door. He felt his palms sweat a little bit which confused him greatly. The plan was simple. Get close to Y/N and when Venom least expects it, he’d get the parasite out of her. He rose his hand up to knock at the door again but stopped. Why is this so difficult? He’d asked many women on dates before. He’s asked women to flat-out sleep with him. So why is this so hard when it came to Y/N?

The door opened. Y/N stared at a shocked Bruce.

“I told you he was out here. What does he want?”

Y/N shook her head “Bruce, just the man I wanted to see.” She was about to give him the paperwork but noticed the items he was holding “what’s this?”

Bruce adjusted his tie “These are for you Y/N.”

“Oh.” The two traded items. He took the papers while she took the flowers and chocolate. She felt butterflies fill her stomach “T-Thank you. But what is this for?”

“Is that chocolate? Huh. That bat has use to this city after all.”

Bruce scratched the back of his head “I was wondering if I can take you out on a date.”

“What?!”

Y/N felt her body heat up. Her hands began to shake. She backed away from Bruce placing the gifts down on her desk “calm down.” she whispered.

“Calm down! He’s buttering us up Y/N I do not trust this in the slightest.” Venom growled

Y/N let out a series of coughs hoping that Bruce didn’t hear the beast “w-what brought this on Bruce?”

Bruce’s eyes squinted. Is it attacking? Should he in-act his plan now? Bruce walked a bit closer “Well to be frank with you. I’ve been interested in a while.”

“You have?” Y/N perked up.

Bruce smiled “since the first day I met you actually Y/N” he gently placed his hands on hers only for her to jerk her hand back.

“Lies! He has something to gain from this. He.is.false.” Venom practically snarled in her head.

Y/N walked back to her chair and took a deep breath. She needed to find a way to calm Venom down before he took over. Panicked She looked at the box of chocolates and in a haste, she opened the box shoving a handful of chocolates in her mouth.

Bruce looked at her with his mouth slightly agape in shock. Her cheeked were puffed as she continued to eat.

“Oh my gosh. These are so… why are they good.”

Y/N’s body slowly returned to normal. She felt her trembling subside as the symbiont purred.

“Something is far different in these chocolates. He did something to them. Quick ask him.”

Y/N turned around so that she faced the wall to regain her composure. When she finally swallowed the last bit she turned back around and smiled at Bruce.

“Did you make these?” She asked tilting her head slightly.

Bruce nodded “Well. I had help from my Butler.”

“I must meet the Butler… Y/n what species of human is a Butler and why don’t we have one?”

Y/N covered her mouth as she let out a series of giggles.

“So, you’ve been interested in your secretary Mr. Wayne? How scandalous.” Y/N walked closer to him.

Bruce was actually impressed with the fact that she did all that and still carried the conversation like nothing happened. And judging by how she looked much calmer, he feels as though he’s calmed Venom. Good, that means his special chocolates worked. He himself walked closer to her, closing the space between them “well. Ever since you’ve entered my life you’ve made it interesting.” He wiped some chocolate off the edge of her mouth with his thumb “so? Dinner at my place? Friday night.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip as she smiled at him. She watched him press his thumb to his mouth without breaking eye contact.

“If you don’t say yes I’ll say it for you Y/N. If this is the kind of treatment we will receive with dating the Batman then accept.”

Y/N smirked. Didn’t he change his tune.

“sure, Friday night Bruce.”

Bruce nodded and walked out of the room. When he closed the door He bumped into a small figure.

“I didn’t know you liked Y/N In that way?” Tim smirked

Bruce felt heat rush to his cheeks “I well. Uhh.”

“It’s alright B. I think she’s good for you. Oh and there’s a meeting that starts in like 5 minutes.” Tim turned to walk away.

Did his other children think that way too? Should he tell them that he isn’t actually interested in Y/N, but the parasite that lived with her. *** Y/N’s head slumped over again. Her eyelids felt heavy.

“Y/N! Wake up.”

“Huh?! What. Oh.” Y/N yawned before resuming her work. Venom let out a disheveled sigh.

“Alright Y/N It is time to retire for the day.”

“Hold on. One more email.”

Y/N felt warmth throughout her body. Venom wanted to take over but she needed to get this last invitation out “hold on V. Let me just.”

She thought she was sending an email but Venom turned off the computer “it is 11 pm Y/N. Time to go home.”

Y/N sluggishly stood up. She stumbled out of the room as if she had one too many drinks “you just want to get out there and be a vigilante. Maybe encounter Batman since he gave you those chocolates~”

“No! I… I want to spoil you at home Y/N. I’ve been unfair to you. And you are tired.”

Y/N used the walls of the halls for support. She noticed her reflection on the floor. She had bags under her eyes, her skin a bit lighter, like the blood drained from her face. She got up and went into the elevator. Instead of pressing the first floor, she pressed the very top. “Venom?”

“This is a quicker way home. Trust me.” *** “Tim c’mon, let’s go. And no more coffee, Alfred is going to have a fit.” Dick stood from his seat and closed one of Tim’s laptops.

Dick went to WE to check on Tim and he was very right to do so. The boy had his face plastered on the screen like a zombie.

“Wait wait wait. Look. It’s Y/N”

Tim pointed to the screen. The two watched her practically stumble out of her room. “Why is she still here?” Dick leaned closer “is she drunk?”

“Beats me.” Tim watched her fall to the floor. The two were about to go help but immediately stopped when they saw what happened to her on-screen. Black tendrils appeared from her body, getting her back on her feet. Then a head appeared from her shoulder.

“N-no way… she’s. She is. They.” Tim got up from his chair. She’s his host. That explains so much.

Dick shook Tim “she’s headed for the roof.” He snapped out of his shock earlier than Tim. But was filled with questions. The two ran out of the room and into the stairs. They both grappled their way to the top and opened the door.

Y/N aimlessly walked towards the edge. her body swayed side to side as she got closer to the edge. “Dick… Dick she’s going to jump.” Tim panicked

Dick ran towards the woman who stood on the edge “Y/N! DONT!”

Y/N’s head shot up. her head slowly turned around to see the two young adults in a panic. “Dick? Tim?” She was too tired. She lost her footing and fell off the edge.

“NO!”

Both the boys ran to the edge and watched her limp body plummet towards the ground. Their heart raced as she fell. Dick pulled out his grapple gun and shot it towards her.

“Time to go home nibbles. Rest. I will deal with them.”

Y/N slowly closed her eyes as the wind rushed through her body. Venom took over and let out some webbing. He swung high in the air before landing back on The Wayne tower and crawled up. Whatever was in those chocolates made him feel so much stronger.

Dick and Tim backed away as Venom climbed. When he reached the roof he stood mighty tall. His sharp teeth and white eyes are on full display.

“If you tell anyone about us, then I will simply inform those you told about your nightly activities. Nightwing and Red Robin.” Venom growled at them.

Dick got into a fighting stance “what did you do to Y/N? Where is she?”

“She has overworked herself. And we will be going home. Let Bruce know we’re taking the next few days off. This includes saving people.” Without waiting for an answer Venom jumped off and swung away.

“Oh shit.” Tim whispered.

“Language.” *** Almost home. Venom was almost home before he heard a scream. Another trafficking thing that needed to be stopped. He stood tall on the rooftop watching the armed goons patrolling the compound.

Venom let out a huff “Isn’t this Red Hoods territory”

“That it is big guy.” Red hood landed next to him.

Venom pointed at the caged woman “Stop this now. We have our own matters to attend to.”

“Oh c’mon Ven my man. Help a guy out here. I promise I’ll get you anything you want.” Redhood cocked his gun ready to jump in.

“Anything?”

“Oh, yea. Anything for the big guy that annoys my old man.”

Venom gave him a toothy grin “whoever finishes off fewer people is the loser.” He said before jumping off towards the masked men.

Red hood gasped “h-hey! That isn’t fair.”

While Venom fought the goons. Red hood ran to the cages and released the woman “Go! Don’t worry about the alien, He’s my friend.”

The woman ran out in a fit of screams. When everything calmed down Venom turned to leave. Redhood stood in front of Venom.

“Woah Woah Woah, Where’s the fire?”

Annoyed Venom got low to be face to face with Red Hood “We are tired. we helped out here, Now let us go home, Jason Todd. You did say I’ll get anything if I help. Let me leave.”

Jason didn’t move but he heard Venom leave. When it finally registered that he knew who he was he called the only person he could rant to.

“Jay? are you alright?” Dick yelled Through the phone

“He knows! B is totally going to kill me.”

“You’re talking about Venom right?”

Red hood got on his motorcycle “yea. How did you-”

“It’s Y/N. She’s the host. Meet us at the safe house on the east side.” *** Y/N smiled as she relaxed in her bath "Mmm thank you Venom." Venom continued to massage her whole body "But of course. anything for my host" her face was the only thing not wrapped up in his warmth “I believe this is called a Shiatsu massage. I saw an ad on the tv the other night.”

“Pfft. Well, thank you Venom. This means a lot to me.”

It had been three days since she’s been to work. This mini-vacation was surely needed. Venom pampered her to the best of his abilities, one of the things he was so very adamant on was for Y/N to not check her phone or laptop. The last thing he wanted was for Y/n to work from home. That would defeat the purpose. Y/N was sure she would fall asleep in the tub. Before she did, She got out feeling very refreshed. “Time for bed Y/N”

“Don’t have to tell me twice. Oh! Tomorrow’s Friday. Are you excited about our date” Y/N plopped her body on the bed. “Maybe a little. It has been a while since we’ve seen him.” Venom made his way to the kitchen to eat the last bits of Bruce’s chocolates. When he returned Light snores could be heard from the woman, making Venom smile. Just when he was about to sleep himself a loud ringing of a bell blasted through the room.

“What is the meaning of this!” Venom roared as his body began to convulse around Y/N

Y/N woke with a start. The loud ringing sounded like white noise.

“Y/N… what is that sound!”

Y/N’s eyes widened “It's the fire alarm for the building. We have to-“

The sound of an explosion shook her room. Y/N stumbled to the window to see the building across from her up in flames. “Oh my gosh.”

Another explosion caused her building to rumble. Venom desperately clawed at anything to stop the noise. He threw the alarm clock by the bedside at the bell with such a force it shattered both items into pieces. “Fuck. That. Shit.”

Another rumble and screams erupted from outside her door. “We have to get out of here.”

Venom took over. He broke down the bedroom door. Smoke began seeping out from under the front door. “Window it is.”

“Help. Please.”

Venom’s head perked up. “Did you hear that?”

“Y-yea.”

“We can leave. Let Batman and the birds deal with this.”

“They won’t get here in time Venom.”

Y/N managed to drag Venom back. He involuntarily turned and opened the door. Smoke puffed around the neighbor's door like steam on a train. The ringing sound returned causing both to stumble around.

“Miss! Are you alright! Stay low to the ground”

Both Y/N and Venom struggled to stand on two feet. Letting the adrenaline guide her she opened the door. Y/N covered her mouth “Miss! Where are you.”

“I’m here.”

Y/N let out a series of coughs as she approached the elderly woman. Her leg was trapped under Woden debris. Y/N put her hands under the pile and with all the strength she could muster, raised the pile “Go! This is really hot.”

The woman did as told. Once she was out Y/N dropped the pile. The floor under them shook “Miss, we have to go. This floor is going to fall.”

The elderly woman screamed. She watched in horror as Y/N’s body had continuous black goo violently exploding around her skin. Y/N looked at her hands, then her arms. “Venom, stay inside.”

“You are in danger!”

Another explosion caused Y/N to fly back. Hitting her head on a marble counter. “Y/N!”

Y/N held the bottom of her shirt to her mouth “I’m fine. Where is that grandma.”

“She’s left.”

“Good… you need to leave too.”

“What!”

The ceiling crumbled in front of the door. Trapping them inside.

“You’ll die if you stay here. Venom go. Find a new host.”

“No way in hell!”

“I don’t want you to die!”

“So we finally agree on something.”

The floor gave way. The last thing Y/N saw was a sofa falling with them before Venom took over again. The two lay on the floor while the flames around them surged on.

“I will not leave you Y/N. There is no other host. Only you.”

“But.”

“No buts! Only chocolate.”

Venom heard Y/N laugh. “How can you say that at a time like this”

“Well… I’m not alone anymore.”

***

By the time the boys made it to the apartments, it was too late. They all watched from the rooftop across the street, police, and firefighters flooded the scene. What was once a building was now a pile of red brick, wood, and ash.

“No Y/N” Tim whispered while he looked through binoculars.

“Not yet. Surely they got away.” Damian crossed his arms. To anyone else, he sounded disingenuous. But his brothers knew he was just as worried about Y/N as they are.

Dick scratched the back of his head “The fire is almost put out. we should go to the hospital. Maybe she’s there already”

Tim frowned “Already checked the list of people that’s been administered. No Y/N”

“Fuck this. We need to be down there helping them look for survivors.” Jason turned to leave but Dick stopped him.

“And risk being found out?”

“Who’s going to know!”

“Nightwing, The robins, and Redhood are at Y/N’s apartment. With no Batman mind you. Someone will surely connect the dots.” Dick placed a hand on his shoulder “we have to wait this one out.” To their surprise, Bruce showed up along with Alfred to the scene. they were too far to hear what they were saying. but Bruces face fell at whatever the police had said. "No... no no no" Tim began pacing again "Spit it out Drake." "They haven't found her body. she's... she could be" "We are waiting..." Dick clenched his fists as worry began to consume him. And wait they did. They continued life as normal as they could. Bruce didn't show up to work while Tim continuously drank coffee. Dick stayed with Damian as a means to support the boy. The blood son was restless with getting out there to look for Y/N. Jason went around fishing for any kind of information that could result in such a terrorist attack. As soon as the sun began to set they were already on the scene. Batman sent them to look while he and Gorden investigate.

They spent hours separated looking through the remains of the building. Damian noticed one of the wooden planks move. The boy ran to the spot and began digging. A drippy liquid throbbed “ I've found her. She is here!”

Jason was the first to respond. He helped Damian dig before reaching under her arms, pulling her out. Y/N had patches of black all over her body “Y/N? Venom? Can you hear me?”

No response “we have to take her to the cave.” Tim was about to radio in before Damian stood.

“Are you mad Drake? Father has been hunting Venom for months. Do you really intend to just hand them off like that?”

“Then what do you suggest we do hmm? Take her to the hospital?” Tim shot back

“No. No hospitals. we hate that dreaded place.”

They all watched a tiny Venom head form from Y/N’s neck. Dick knelt down “we have a safe house nearby.”

“That could work.” Venom couldn’t keep his form anymore. He was already so weak. Especially with trying to Heal Y/N.

Jason watched as Venom returned to slime, picking up Y/N. Damian walked beside him never taking his eyes off Y/N.

“What are we going to tell Bruce?” Tim asked his older brother.

Dick let out a sigh “Well we found her. but we can't tell him about Venom. It’s not our secret to tell. Now let’s go. ill radio Batman." *** Bruce remembered this defeated feeling. This is exactly how he felt when he lost Jason. Powerless, guilty, grief-stricken.

“Bruce.”

Dick and Alfred walked into the cave, the only light came from the monitors. Bruce turned his chair around “yes?”

“We’ve found her. She has third-degree burns but she’ll make it through.” Dick watched his father rise from his chair with a stunned expression. Bruce placed both hands on his shoulder “where is she? Which hospital?”

Dick bit the inside of his cheek "We don't know." Bruce put his arms down to the side. He walked past them towards the locker room. "Bruce? You're suiting up?" Dick quickly followed behind his father. "will you be patroling my turf?" His voice was tuff and cold making Dick stops in his tracks. "I didn't think so." All Bruce could think about was to find those who were responsible for Y/N's endangerment. And to find out where Venom had probably kidnapped her after such an ordeal. He decided to push up his plans of removing Venom from Y/N. As long as he lives inside of her, she isn't safe.

#venom symbiote #bruce wayne x fem!reader #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #dc comcis #dc fanfic #Venom reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel x dc

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weepingvoidpenguin · 4 years ago

Text

One of Your Favorites

Jealous Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have an objective. Get Rumlow to confess. Simple enough, right? No. Aside from his usual condescending attitude towards you, Bucky has made it extremely apparent that he doesn’t think you’re capable of - well, anything, but especially not handling Rumlow. And yet, he is the biggest challenge of this entire ordeal.

Warning: T R I G G E R WARNING!! ATTEMPTED SA, DRUGS, language, light smut. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT READ IF SA WILL TRIGGER YOU.

Word Count: 8.3k

“We have good intel stating he’s working as a double agent for HYDRA. Selling information, exploiting tactics, even going so far as to tell them where we’ll be and when.” Natasha scanned the room, making sure she had everyone’s attention during the briefing.

You slouched back in your swivel chair and twisted to-and-fro slightly with your hands gripping the arm rests on either side. It took all of your willpower to act engrossed in her words. And you meant every single drop. You’d been paying attention, sure, but the only issue was the dominating presence two seats to your right and directly in your line of sight to Natasha. You rolled your chair to the left to clear the path for the third time, only for him to block your way without missing a beat. The growl that left your mouth was nearly involuntary. Nearly.

How long would this man act like a child? Despite his graceful and seemingly unsuspecting movements, you were fully aware his placement was intentional. This was not the first, nor did you doubt that it would be the last, time that Bucky acted impudently toward you. Frankly, you’d grown bored of his behavior. It was the same thing everyday. He would act a nuisance during the briefings, speak over you whenever he had the chance, steal the limelight from you and invalidate any concerns or thoughts you shared. The whole charade grew tiring and he had been dancing on thin ice for months now.

You averted your gaze from burning holes through the freshly washed, brown locks and switched your attention back up to the redhead. Thankfully, too, because you managed to catch the end of her sentence just as she locked eyes with you.

“And that’s why Y/N is going to be the one to extract the information from him,” she finished.

You blinked, “Wait, what?”

Bucky straightened his posture and threw a quick glance your way, “Yeah, what? She’s got no heat, couldn’t toast marshmallows if we gave her all day. She shouldn’t lead this, she wouldn’t know how,”

“Well, tonight might be a good time to start learning, then,” Steve chimed in, throwing a wink your way. You smiled and appreciated his aid, not because you needed it but because at this point, you were seething and if you opened your mouth to defend yourself this meeting would go south, quickly. Luckily, Steve always believed you were capable of a great deal of things and knew you strove for more experience so any opportunity to lead or expand was one he thought you should take.

“Besides,” Tony spoke up, twirling a platinum pen between his fingers from across the table, “our little double-agent has always had the hots for Y/N so unless you’re gonna be the one to bat your eyelashes at him and get him alone in a room, Mr. Barnes, we have to use his own flaws against him.” He turned to face you and held up a hand, “Not to say that liking you is a flaw, you’re great Hot-Stuff but exploiting him is our best option indefinitely,”

“Do I have to seduce him?” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and raising a brow towards Nat, trying your damned hardest to avoid the unmistakable glare the brown-haired super soldier was sending your way.

“The only thing you have to do is extract any information on him that you can. Get him a little drunk, catch him in a slip-up or two, take note of any inconsistent stories and be on your merry way,” she reassured, “How you manage to do that is up to you,”

“Ooh, extortion,” Clint chirped up from the far back corner, his hands rubbing together maliciously around an arrow he pulled from his sheathe, something you noticed he did a lot when he was uninterested; be it a person, mission, or conversation.

“No. Not extortion,” Steve shut it down and you chuckled at how Clint’s countenance fell into one of disappointment.

“Not yet anyway,” Natasha mumbled and you sighed as she walked around the room and handed each of you a folder with your individual objectives inside.

“But he’s such a pervert,” you grumbled.

“All the easier,”

The rest of the day was drudged with Nat while she taught the pertinence of body language (both yours and theirs), verbal ruses, and overall ensnarement. You bat your eyelashes until you were certain you would catch enough wind to fly away, smirked enough that your cheeks began to ache and raised your eyebrows ‘til you felt the impending wrinkles on your forehead. By the end of the drill you weren’t sure you were even going to make it to the company party from the migraine creeping its way on.

“How’s the bait coming along?” His voice alone caused you to roll your eyes but you paid no mind while you rubbed at your temples and stood up alongside Natasha.

“She’s not gonna be able to lie to me any time soon but she can flirt her way to whatever she wants,”

“Benefits of targeting a narcissistic misogynist, they don’t think anyone can fool them.” Tony belted as he sauntered into the room with strawberries, offering them out to you while he munched on one.

“She’ll still mess it up,” Bucky countered, “Make someone else do it,”

You plucked the fruit off Tony’s tray and examined it, trying to figure out whether you were going to consume it or use it as a weapon.

“I really appreciate your words of encouragement, James. Unfortunately, they’re not wanted, nor are they needed.” You bit into the fruit and glided towards the door, looking over your shoulder at the super soldier, “So unless you actually have something to contribute, I suggest you stay the hell out of my way while I get the job done,”

Nat walked out behind you and handed you a tiny, skin-colored device meant to conceal itself and you placed it in your ear.

“The conversation is gonna be recorded so we can catch any inconsistencies. We’ll all be able to hear what you’re saying so tread on delicate waters but don’t be afraid to shake mountains if you have to,”

You nodded and opened your door for her to enter your room knowing she’d want to help you get ready for the event. Natasha, shocking as it turns out, enjoys company while preparing for events. She would much prefer to be surrounded by people than be alone. You never had gall to ask her why that is. Or maybe you respected her too much to ask.

An hour had passed, maybe two, but you enjoyed the silence between you both. There was no need to fill the empty quiet when it was so comfortable and welcoming. You two spoke without words at times and that was probably your favorite personal skill. Eventually, there came a knock on your door and you opened to find Wanda with her flat iron and make-up bag in tow. It’d long since been decided that your room was the gathering center.

Wanda helped you finish touching up your outfit and you waited on your bed while they finished getting ready. Nat occasionally quizzed you on certain situations and how you should act depending on the tones and moods of the conversation. You tried to explain that you didn’t have difficulty reading a room but Nat tested you all the same.

“And if he puts his hand on your thigh?” She called out from your bathroom.

“Then he loses it,” you practically sang in response.

You were met with a flying hairbrush and laughed at the onslaught.

“You’re not the only one with that mentality,” Wanda called out as well, her iron glossing over thin strands of hair.

“Nat knows I can handle myself.” You sat up on the bed and went over to your closet to collect your favorite pair of shoes to go along with the formal attire Nat selected for tonight. “What a coincidence that we happen to have a company party the same night we have to extract information,” you hollered over your shoulder, moving aside terribly worn shoes while you scoured for the pair you had in mind.

“This objective has been in the works for weeks now,” Nat released the tendril of hair from around the barrel and pinned it to her head so it could cool.

“Wow, thanks for the heads up, then.” You gripped the desired pair and placed them beside your nightstand for later.

“The plan wasn’t solid until we knew for a fact that Rumlow was coming. It’s a company party so it’s not mandatory but once he heard you were making an appearance, it didn’t take very much persuading,”

You rolled your eyes and plopped back down on your mattress, “He’s so annoying, I doubt I can hold much of a conversation with him,”

“Take a shot or two to ease your nerves, if he sees you drinking it’ll put him at ease too. He’ll be more inclined to drink,” Natasha recommended. “But don’t act too out of character. If you were always curt and short with him and suddenly you start acting over-friendly, he may get suspicious. He’s an idiot but he’s a paranoid one,”

You nodded, taking a mental note to have a half-empty bottle in your grasp when Rumlow arrives. If he thinks you’ve already been drinking, he might also consider catching up.

“Y/N? Not uptight for once?” Wanda sarcastically questioned. “I can’t picture it,”

“Oh, fuck off,” you grumbled and in turn received laughter from the two girls. “Besides, of all of us I’m by far the least uptight. Barnes takes the cake for that one,”

There was a beat of silence that you didn’t register before you were met with a response.

“Ya know, he’s not as bad as you paint him out to be.” Nat unpinned the curl from her head and moved on to the next section, “He’s got some serious loyalty and always willing to volunteer first for everything,”

You lifted your head to stare at her reflection through the mirror, “What are you talking about? He’s annoying and irate and lacks a filter,”

“Mmm, irate isn’t the word I would use,” Wanda countered, looking over to Natasha.

Nat shook her head in response, “I’d lean more towards . . . over-protective,”

“Much better,” Wanda agreed.

You squinted your eyes at their image and felt the corners of your lips turn downwards, “Over-protective? Since when are you two defending Barnes?”

“We’re not defending him, per say.” Wanda glanced over to Nat, “We’re just trying to give you a fresh perspective,”

“You could give me a brand new pair of eyes and I’d still see him the same,” you retorted, now leaning on your elbows due to the strain on your neck.

They ignored the comment, “And he’s only annoying to you,”

“You’re telling me he doesn’t annoy you at all?” You asked, an eyebrow raised.

“More like . . . he doesn’t go out of his way to mess with us.” Nat applied a nude color onto her lips.

“So you agree that he goes out of his way to irritate me,” you stated rather than asked.

“That’s been made very apparent,” Wanda responded. “But you have to wonder why,”

You huffed a little and sprawled back out on the bed just to result in staring at the ceiling above. If you looked hard enough your mind would create pictures from the chaos of the cracks and shapes began to form. Sometimes, when the night lay still and life seemed to dwindle at the edges of your reality, you could swear a familiar face fashioned together and your imagination ran wild with the images you’d see. Some that brought a warmth to your cheeks even now.

You shot up out of bed and shook the memories from your vision. Ugh. He haunts you even when he’s not actively tormenting you. How he’s managed to crawl his way so deeply within your skin you had no idea but you fought for control of your thoughts whenever you caught them slipping into that hellhole.

“Or slipping into euphoria,” Wanda chimed in.

“Wanda!” You scolded, crossing your arms, “Euphoria my ass,”

“Yeah, he thinks so too,” she continued and you chucked the abandoned hairbrush back their way.

“Stay out of my head,” you jokingly sniped at her but was met with a low chuckle.

“I didn’t even have to be in your head to know what you were thinking of,” Nat defended and caught your weapon of choice.

“Are you guys done yet?” You rolled your eyes and stretched yourself out before swiping up the pair of heels you’d chosen and sliding them onto your feet.

“Why? Are you in a hurry to see a certain someone?” Natasha teased and Wanda let out an eruption of laughter.

“All right, I’m done.” You made a beeline for the door and threw it open, “Lock up when you’re finished!” You bellowed over your shoulder and made your way to the top floor of the building where all the parties are typically held.

You didn’t run into anyone on the way up and you used that time to calm yourself, prying inch by inch away from the invasive thoughts that called for you in the darkest hours of the night. But, then again, maybe those tormenting thoughts weren’t that bad? You mean, he certainly IS handsome, very much so actually. And he has the most knee-wobbling smirk you’d ever come to know, not to mention those little tricks he does with his knives always manage to entrance you. God, did he know how to use a knife.

On more than one occasion had you caught yourself staring at how his hands encapsulated the hilt of the blade. How they clenched and relaxed, drawing out some of the more prominent veins on one of the extremities; of course, you were even more so enticed by the hand he hid as well. You’d imagined what it felt like to have such strong hands grip onto your thighs and coax you into spreading them open with just a few teasing touches here and there. You couldn’t fathom the front you’d put up would last very long, he was stellar at pulling reactions from you. He’d see you break under his caresses and he’d degrade you like he always did but this time it’d emit a different response from you, one that made you whimper and shake. At that, he’d probably call you a good girl, he definitely seems the type to switch between degradation and praise, and would press his mouth up just where you wanted it the most. You’d try your hardest to be quiet but damn the way that tongue moved against you and the way he’d pull you harder against his face at each sound of pleasure you let slip past your lips. He’d enjoy it, too. Eyes closed as he devours you, he likes to put on a show for you to watch. Give you a memory that’ll slick your thighs later that night if he hadn’t fucked you into a coma by then. He’d make you watch him and if you dared to close your eyes you’d earn a firm, cold smack on your ass. He knows you like when he uses temperature play. He growls a little too, he can’t help his innate behavior. Then, just as the accumulation is coming to its apex he’d pull away abruptly and kiss you straight on your mouth so you can taste yourself and that’d earn him another whimper which would result in another smack that leads to that cold metal trailing its way to your core and just as he pushes the tip of his finger inside-

You cough and straighten your posture as the elevator door opens. When had you leaned up against the back wall of the elevator? Oh Gods, you could feel the slick at the apex of your thighs and you squeezed them together as inconspicuously as you could in fear that you were producing a . . . scent that would be rather difficult to conceal. But the slick only grew worse when you locked eyes with the person stepping into the elevator.

Fuck.

“That’s what you chose to wear?” He asked, a certain venom in his tone that immediately calmed the ache in your heat.

“And what would you have me wear instead, Barnes?” You quipped back, your body facing forward as he took his place beside you in the cramped space.

There was a beat of silence. Then another. “Not that,” he responded.

“Well I’ll make sure to ask you next time since you have such impeccable taste,” you retorted, your eyes yet to abandon the sight of the closing doors.

You weren’t sure of all the effects of the Super Soldier Serum that had been injected into Bucky and all that it heightened but you prayed to any God that would listen that his hearing wasn’t one of those things. You were too preoccupied with attempting to settle the hot pulse beating between your legs to worry about how loud your discomfort came across.

“What do you look so nervous about?” Bucky’s gruff voice prodded. “You can’t possibly be nervous about the mission considering how big-headed you are,”

You took a deep, long breath and held it to soothe you. Had you not been so previously preoccupied, you’d have given him hell for the insult. “I’m not nervous about that,” you sniped and rested back against the cool wall to satiate your burning skin before lifting your gaze to him only to find him already examining you.

“Of course not, I just said that,” he retorted, bringing a gloved hand to his face to rub along his jaw, “there’s obviously nothing for you to worry about,”

You scoffed, “And why is that, Barnes?” Cue the dramatic crossing of your arms.

“You’re smarter than Rumlow and significantly better trained. Overall, he really doesn’t hold a candle to your ability,” He paused for a second, his whole frame tensing until he remembered to relax, “But that’s not really saying much considering it’s Rumlow,”

You hadn’t noticed you raised your eyebrows until you felt your face fall, “Ah, there he is. You had me worried there for a second, Barnes. Thought you might actually try something new and display common decency for once,”

A corner of his mouth turned up subtly and he shook his head. You trailed your gaze down to his hidden hand and stared long enough to burn a hole through the fabric.

“If something’s bothering you, Dollface, go ahead and speak up,”

You weren’t sure what possessed you to say anything, especially knowing how touchy the subject was for him but the words left your mouth anyway, “I don’t know why you insist on hiding yourself,”

He lurched his head back, your statement seeming to have a physical affect on the man and you mentally slapped yourself for saying anything.

“I’m not hiding myself,”

“But you are,” you interrupted, your thoughts coming out in pools of candor, “you aren’t your hand. You aren’t your past. You are you. Presently. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. That’s not even the same hand you had back then. It’s not tainted and neither are you. I say drop the gloves,”

“And why would I care about what you say?” He growled, his eyebrows furrowed together and his neck tight in potential restraint.

The elevator dinged and you looked towards the opening doors, “You don’t have to but they don’t look right with your suit either.” You walked through the exit and sauntered over to the others who had already gotten the party started, leaving Bucky dumb-founded behind you. “I need a shot,”

“Already ready,” Tony quipped up, holding the small glass in the air for everyone to behold before bringing his cheek to yours in mock welcoming, “This’ll up your tolerance for the next hour, try to get all your drinking done within that time-frame,”

You pulled away with a warm smile after faux kissing his cheek, “Finally!” you displayed and threw the liquid back in one swift motion, your face scrunching together against your will.

“Yeah, she’s got a kick to her,” he mumbled and handed you a fruity drink to chase it down with.

You went around and said hi to everyone as you recognized most of those present. You made small chatter with those lesser known and drank the liquid in your hand significantly quicker than you’d like to. You excused yourself after you finished the drink and walked over to the bar, scanning the room as you were handed another glass. No Rumlow in sight.

You headed towards the foosball table and gripped the handles after setting the beverage down on the counter beside you. You flinched as a reflection of light caught your eye and at first you thought your glass was the source. Until your eyes fixated on the reflection’s actual origin. To your far right, and up a few steps you found Bucky conversing with Steve, a dull light emitting from his hand. Not a glove in sight.

“So, where’s your boyfriend?” Sam inquired when he filled the opposing spot.

You rolled your eyes, “Bucky’s not my boyfriend,”

“Bucky?” Sam’s tone chirped up teasingly, a knowing look wearing on his face.

Your grip tightened around the handles and you slowly pulled away to throw the little white ball through the circle, your hands immediately twisting the miniscule players around. Your eyes shot back and forth, your sight never leaving the darting sphere. Sam still managed to win the first point.

“Ha!” He shouted in triumph, bringing his finger up as if to scold you, “Don’t think you got away with that comment either, Y/N,”

“What comment?” you questioned and gulped most of your drink before slamming it back down on the table.

You heard your earpiece come to life with quiet static and you tried to keep your face masked. Rumlow had entered. Not a surprise either, the party was finally starting to pick up now.

Sam threw the ball in and you turned the players meticulously this time, brute strength hadn’t helped you earlier so maybe you should take it slow. Steve made his way over to the table and threw his drink back, the liquid trickling down the side of his face before he wiped it away. Sam won the second point.

“I play winner,” Tony chimed, standing beside Steve.

You made a point to catch up and now you two were tied at three each.

“Best out of five?” You proposed, quirking an eyebrow at Sam.

“If you didn’t want to play anymore you could’ve just said that,” he teased and you smirked at him as Tony made a subtle show of handing you another drink and you finished your second. “Loser takes two shots?”

“Deal.” You nodded, knowing you didn’t have much of a choice as a small crowd began to form around you two. Rumlow amongst them.

Your jaw dropped when Sam shot the ball directly into your goal as soon as he’d let the ball go.

“What the fuck?” You shouted, “No fair! That doesn’t count!”

Thor erupted in laughter to your right and you blinked slowly, staring at the gargantuan man.

“It most certainly does,” Sam shouted back, his grin practically touching his ears.

“Sam, take it easy on her,” Bucky muttered from beside him, quickly averting his gaze from yours and his expression loosened, “The brat hates losing,”

“Brat?” You snarled.

Bucky took a swig of his beer, watching you the entire time and you reeled back the fire beginning to form in your chest just to bring your drink up to your lips and chug the entire thing down. You handed it over to Tony who left to replace it.

“Last point,” Sam stated, “It’s not too late to quit now,”

You shook your head and blinked away the feign distortion you were supposed to have. “Just play the ball,”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he teased and threw the ball in.

You wanted to win. Desperately. But you had a character to play tonight and she was supposed to be drunk. So you hit your hand against the corner of the table just as Sam happened to make the winning point. You grumbled and threw him a glare when Tony broke through the crowd.

“Coming through,” he shouted, handing two small glasses to you while you gripped your knuckles in pain. “Noooo, you’re not getting out of taking these. C’mon, take your punishment,”

“Yes, Daddy,” you grumbled and cringed at your own words when the realization hit you. Whatever. You were supposed to be drunk, anyway.

“Daddy?” Tony quipped and pulled the drinks back towards himself, “Maybe you should be cut off,”

“What?” You argued, leaning slightly on the table with your hand and snatching the drinks from Tony’s hold, effectively spilling some on yourself. “See?” You lifted up the half empty shot glass, “This barely counts as a shot,”

“I’ll get her a new one,” Rumlow offered and disappeared before anyone could argue.

“She really doesn’t need another-” Bucky tried to interject and take the shots from you but you twisted around and chugged down the one full glass.

Water.

You looked up at Tony and his smirk was barely noticeable. But you could tell. Bucky nearly ripped the other drink from you but Tony blocked his path and you exaggerated your next drink as Rumlow broke back into the crowd, shot in tow.

“Here.” Rumlow’s calloused hand held the drink up above you and you stared at him with a questioning look. “Open,” he ordered and the fire burning in your chest fought to destroy everything in its vicinity. You bit your lip in refrain but tossed your head back and opened your mouth.

Static broke over your earpiece. Don’t drink that! Wanda’s voice erupted.

Your eyes widened as the liquid made its way down but you coughed hard to stop whatever you could.

Why? Steve’s voice came through right after.

You choked on the liquid and shut your eyes at the way it burned its way down. You reached your hand out to grab someone’s drink to ease the burning and grasped a tall glass and tossed it back. The burning didn’t ease up and you felt a hand rest on your back.

“Are you okay?” Rumlow’s voice rang out and your skin nearly recoiled from the contact, “How about we get you some water?”

You looked up at him when the burning subsided minimally and nodded your head, letting him lead the way to the bar. He parted the crowd and someone took step right behind you to follow when the presence suddenly died out abruptly. You turned around to check who it had been and found no one.

Why? Steve asked again.

Where’s Wanda? Bruce broke through.

You lifted your head and flitted your gaze around the room until you found the familiar Sokovian on the couch, laying down with her eyes closed. You pulled away from Rumlow but his grip on your hand tightened and his steps grew in haste. You whirled your head to yell at him but the way the room swayed with the movement cause you to shut your mouth in surprise.

Didn’t Tony say you would have a higher tolerance?

“Couch...” you muttered, pointing over your shoulder just in case your target was curious enough to ask but the message was delivered.

Rumlow hoisted you up onto the bar stool and stood on your open side, using his body to keep you from falling over. Or to cage you in.

“I don’t feel good,” You rested an elbow on the countertop and held your head up.

“I can’t imagine you would. You’ve been chugging those drinks like they’re water.” Despite that, Rumlow motioned to the bartender and asked for two more.

You giggled and your head lulled forward with the action. You let Rumlow catch you from tumbling over. Why did your body feel so heavy? Not to mention the way everything around you dazed about. You couldn’t catch a single action, let alone attempt to read Rumlow’s body language. But you did happen to notice the way his eyes searched the room before coming back to you.

“You okay?” You rested your forearm against his chest and pushed slightly to allow yourself a better view of his face.

A small smirk, “Am I okay? What about you?”

You smacked your lips and brought the ice cold glass to your lips. That’s not water. “I’m doing reeaalllyy good,” you drawled.

Rumlow chuckled and pushed you deeper into the chair, “I can tell.” He took a sip, his attention never faltering from your body, “Just be sure to pace yourself from here on out,”

You made a show of cocking your head to the side and letting a smile sprawl onto your face as you studied him.

“What?” he questioned, a curious lift in his brow.

You shook your head gently and kept your gaze on him over the brim of your glass, “You’re just . . . not what I was expecting,”

“And what were you expecting?”

Don’t forget to bat your eyelashes. “Worse,”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he jeered, his attention once again cast throughout the room before centering back on you.

You followed his action but quickly came to the conclusion that moving any pace faster than a sloth was going to make you nauseous and you could barely keep a thought together. Your stomach began to rise in your chest and the fear seized your throat shut. Why couldn’t you hold onto a thought for longer than a second? It was like you were aware of your lack of consciousness but could do nothing about it because any thought or bout of panic phased through just as soon as it arrived.

“What are you so tense for, Rumlow? You know you’re not currently on the clock, right?” You teased, your head leaning on your shoulder as you spoke.

He brought his drink up to his lips and finished it off in three gulps, “I’m not tense. It’s just hard to turn it off sometimes,”

You nodded slowly and pushed your drink towards him, “Relax. You know everyone here,”

He shook his head and placed your drink back in front of you before asking for another beer.

“And two shots!” You shouted to the bartender, throwing two of your fingers high up and instantly regretting how fast you’d done it.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” He asked you, a side smirk beginning to form.

You placed your finger over your lips and hushed, “Shh, I won’t tell if you don’t.” You dragged your lower lip down and his eyes fixated to commit the scene to memory. “Besides, I always feel dumb if I’m the only one drunk,”

He motioned to the rest of the party, “Believe me, Sugar, you’re not the only one enjoying yourself,”

“But are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Enjoying yourself?”

Your skin crawled when he placed his rough hand on your barren thigh, “Absolutely,”

Don’t forget what you’re here for. Don’t let the objective slip. Gods, how the fuck were you supposed to retain anything when you were so sleepy? And why was it so warm?

“Hot,” you mumbled, fishing around in your glass for an ice cube to rub on your face.

“Thank you,”

You threw your head back in laughter and nearly earned yourself an up-close and personal view of the floor had Rumlow not wrapped an arm around your waist and held you steady. Once he was certain you weren’t going to toss yourself onto the ground, he parted your legs and stood between them to keep you rooted to your seat.

All the movement had you spinning and you white-knuckled Rumlow’s cotton shirt to keep yourself grounded to something, anything. Red warning lights were firing up in your chest and you tensed with the way your body buckled to the panic coursing through you. Your heart pounded in your ears and danced across your skin, lighting it on fire and making the room too stuffy to bear. Please, no. Not now. Focus. Snap out of it. Come back, stay back. Your breathing hitched and you looked down at the sensation crawling its way up higher on your thigh. Too hot. Everything was too hot, if you didn’t get out of this now you would never-

“Vision!” You cheered, happy to see your friend.

The presence on your thigh recoiled slightly.

“I’m taking Wanda to her room, seems she’s had a bit too much to drink,” Vision informed and you’d only just then noticed the body in his hold.

“Wanda!” You smiled, admiring her peaceful features as she slept in his arms. You poked at her cheek then jerked your gaze back up to Vision. “What? Wanda doesn’t drink,”

She’s not acting, Sam’s voice erupted in your ear and you flinched at the sound.

Vision’s eyes went from you to Rumlow then back to you slowly, “Y/N . . . are you okay?”

You beamed at him and slowly brought up your thumb. “Good,” you responded.

You followed Vision’s gaze back up to Rumlow and smiled at the agent beside you. You guess he’s kind of cute. In a strange, unsettling way.

“She’s had a lot to drink, so we’re just trying to slow down the pace. Aren’t we, Y/N?” Rumlow looked down at you.

You nodded fervently, “Yup!”

Vision hesitated but knew he didn’t pose much of a threat with Wanda in his arms unconscious, so he quirked a smile and walked towards the hall.

Someone get to Y/N, something’s not right, Vision ordered and you lifted your head up to find him. You could have sworn he just left.

“Here.” Rumlow handed you a glass, “Drink this, it’ll cool you down,”

You stared at the glass in his hold and looked up at him, “You drink it first,” you slurred, holding your finger up at him.

He cocked his head to the side but took a swig of the drink and you watched it go down his throat. You shrugged and grabbed at it.

Do not drink that, Nat ordered from somewhere and you looked around in wonder at who she was yelling to.

Bucky, Sit down! Steve growled.

Like hell, responded a voice you knew all too well.

Your smile grew and you looked through the crowd, “Bucky!” You feverishly called, completely expecting to see him before you. Rumlow’s head lifted instantly, his eyes scouring the area.

“I’ve got this, Pretty Boy,” Tony hastily spoke, “How ya doin’, Hot Stuff?” He interrogated and you reeled at the tone.

“Quite well, thank you,” you responded tenaciously and attempted to take a swig of the drink in your grasp.

Tony’s hand shot out and covered the top, slamming the cup back down on the counter and effectively getting the drink all over your dress.

“What the fuck?” You tried to shout but the words came out heavy and required too much energy to speak.

“You’ve had enough for tonight,”

“It’s just water,” Rumlow defended but Tony paid him no mind.

Your jaw dropped open and you glared at the older man. Who the hell did he think he was? Tony’s stare burned through your skull and despite your irritation, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was so pissed.

“Are you mad at me?” You drawled, lulling your head to the side.

“No,” he responded curtly.

“Am I being too loud or something?” You pushed. You couldn’t imagine you were any louder than any other drunken bastard at this party.

“No,”

Get her out of there or I swear to God I will, his voice hissed into your ear.

Your eyebrows rose slightly in excitement, “Mmm, Bucky,” you smiled and Tony nodded.

“’Mmm, Bucky’ is right. Wanna go see him?” Tony offered, sticking out his hand for you to take.

You fell forward into Rumlow’s chest but shook your head furiously none the less, “For what? So he can tell me I’m horrendous at my-”

Oh shit. Your job. The job.

If only your body didn’t feel so heavy and your mind so light.

You pushed off Rumlow’s chest and glared at Tony, “I can handle myself,” you insisted, a new sort of sober tone making its way through that caused him to do a once-over. “I know what I’m doing,”

“How many drinks have you had?” Tony challenged and you fell silent.

Then you felt a tap, and another and a few more.

“Six,” You said, hoping you’d counted right.

Tony, don’t you even fucking consider it, Bucky threatened.

“You could at least change, recuperate and then come back,” Tony offered and you sighed a breath of relief before nodding.

“Deal,” you agreed, “I’m hot anyway,”

Tony gave you one last glance before turning around and blending into the crowd on the other end of the room.

You looked up to Rumlow who’s gaze was still locked on the sea of people, “Don’t you wish you’d taken that shot now?” you tried to jeer, every last word bringing you deeper and deeper.

“Are they always that intense?” He questioned, not turning his attention to you.

“They can be over-bearing,” you admitted, hand grabbing the water from earlier and pressing it up against your forehead, “They consider me the baby so they’re always criticizing and suffocating until I just wished they’d disappear.” You took a gulp, “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the family and I like that I have a cause but . . . they don’t let me do anything. It’s exhausting,”

You let out a long breath and smeared the condensation from the glass onto your chest. Rumlow studied you then, not just your body but your reaction. He was watching how you dropped your shoulders at the confession and how you faced your back to them to block them out.

You plastered your torso on the countertop and tried to slow your heartrate down. You couldn’t be the only one here unfathomably hot.

“Why is it so fucking hot?” You questioned, fanning yourself weakly.

“There are a lot of people around,” Rumlow offered, “how about we go somewhere else? Tony did say you had to change,”

You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes and meekly groaned in compliance. “Fine,”

You lifted yourself away from the counter and gently placed your feet on the floor. You’d touched the ground faster than anticipated. Had the ground always been so close?

“Don’t worry, I gotcha.” Rumlow threw an arm around your waist and helped you trudge towards the elevator.

Where the hell are you going? Bucky yelled and the sound of shuffling could be heard from his end.

We can’t let you leave with Rumlow, Y/N. We’re not even sure you’re acting anymore, Sam stated.

Rumlow pressed the button when you couldn’t muster the strength to do it yourself. The level that your room was on lit up and the doors began closing. You thought you saw Rumlow wave at someone but the mock smile on his face didn’t make it seem like a warm good-bye.

Your legs had all but given out by the time the elevator reached your shared floor.

“Heavy,” you muttered, letting Rumlow carry your weight fully.

“I know, Sugar. We’re almost there,” he soothed and you conceded to the fatigue wearing you down.

Your head hung low and your arm dangled uselessly at your side. The familiar sound of your door sliding open caught your attention but you did nothing. You couldn’t.

“How . . . know . . . my room?” You questioned, each word causing you to pull from an empty well of energy.

“I’ve been here before.” Rumlow tossed you onto the bed and sprawled you out.

“Oh. Ok.” You tried to turn on to your side but strong hands gripped down onto your ankles.

Rumlow sighed and slipped the heels off your feet, examining the pair like he wanted to wear them. You extended your feet until you felt every muscle in your leg stretch to its capacity and let out a groan of pleasure at the release. Those shoes hurt so bad.

“You seem . . . intelligent, Y/N.” Rumlow dropped your shoes onto the floor and slithered to the side of your bed, standing beside it with his hands tucked into his pockets.

A bead of sweat trickled down your forehead, “Hot . . .” you croaked and he nodded.

“You’re right. It is getting kind of hot.” He brought a hand up to his neck and ripped off the tie hanging around it.

Get the fuck out of my way, a growl erupted in your ear.

We’re going with you, Buck, Steve responded before knocking something over.

“So, what I have a hard time understanding is. . . why you’re here?”

You groaned a weak ‘huh’ but even that didn’t sound right.

“You’re good at what you do, you finish every mission successfully and yet you’re underappreciated.” He took a seat at the foot of your bed and placed one of your legs into his lap, “Why do you allow them to treat you like that? We wouldn’t,”

The shuffling in your earpiece halted.

“We?”

He began to massage your calf and brought your knee up to his lips, peppering light kisses on it. “We could use someone with your skillset, babe. We’d take real good care of you,”

The shuffling started again.

Rumlow had made his way onto your thigh at this point and you let out an involuntary moan when he skimmed over a delicate part on your inner knee.

“Ya like that?” he questioned but didn’t wait for a response. He brought a hand up to his temple and grabbed the earpiece. You figured he just hadn’t taken it out from his earlier shift but when he pulled it apart, you understood why he always kept it on him.

“Flash . . . drive earpiece?” Your weak tone tilted a little. “W-why tell . . .”

“I figured I’d give you the option to leave since you seem so . . . suffocated. If you said yes tonight then I would remind you tomorrow. If you didn’t,” he chuckled, “well, you wouldn’t remember anyway.” His hands trailed to your mid-thigh and you squeaked. “I’m impressed though, I’ve never given anyone else as much as I’ve given you tonight. The drug usually works so quickly on others, but not you. It’s kind of hot, actually,”

Sick fuck, Natasha growled through a ragged breath.

The world around you was slow or maybe it was you that was slow? You couldn’t tell, honestly. But when Rumlow moved as if he could predict your actions before you could make them, you wondered whether you were moving at all.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon,” Rumlow sighed.

You shook your head, or thought you did but despite the way your body was live-wired, it remained still against all desire.

Fight. Move.

You managed to push your legs shut but his hand slithered between and spread them open similar to opening a door, but this required much less force.

“Kill,” You threatened and the sinister smile that crawled its way onto Rumlow’s face was vile enough to sink your heart into your stomach.

“Kill is fucking right.” Someone snarled and your door was ripped from its hinges.

Rumlow’s hand jerked away from your body and Bucky seized his open palm, intertwining their fingers and pushing Rumlow’s so far back that they touched the back of his own hand. The cracks were sickening onto themselves but had you not been so weak you would’ve turned from the sight altogether. You really couldn’t fathom how his fingers were still attached at all.

“Lay another hand on her and you won’t be able to use it again.” Bucky spit.

Despite Rumlow’s pain, the sinister smile remained sprawled on his face, “You should’ve heard the noises she made,”

Bucky’s grip tightened and the bones in his palm broke next, “I did,”

Natasha flew in right behind Barnes but completely dismissed the two and headed straight for you with a needle in hand. Your eyes shifted from the needle to Nat’s face and back again until she stabbed it into your upper arm. Ouch.

“Wha-”

“Shh,” Natasha hastily hushed, “Keep your strength, you should be back to normal soon,”

Steve came behind Nat and scooped you up to lead you out of the havoc going on in the room. Nat turned her focus to Bucky and reached over to grab the earpiece from Rumlow. Who knows if his nose will ever heal back normally. You held one finger in the air as Steve stepped over the splintered door.

“Goddamit, Y/N,” Steve huffed, jogging towards the elevator and pressing the floor that led to the infirmary.

“We won,” you croaked out, a small smile on your face and Steve shook his head.

“I’m never going to hear the end of this,”

Steve looked you up and down for bruises but couldn’t find any and you promised you weren’t lying to him when you told him Rumlow did not get very far in his ‘advances’ at all. You had to swear the mid-thigh was the worst that it came to.

Bruce was the one that took a few blood samples and made sure everything was reversing back to normal. Apparently, as soon as Rumlow took you to the bar Tony handed Banner the shot glass that Rumlow gave you and Banner ran analysis on it. The cure was pretty easy to find.

After being given strict orders to lie down for the next hour or so, it had been decided that Rumlow was to be turned in considering all the evidence required to make the arrest was in the flashdrive and everyone was to gather together for a ‘family night’. Whatever the hell that meant.

You were in the middle of debating which movie to pick with Steve when the infirmary doors flew open.

“Where is she?” Bucky nearly shouted upon seeing Bruce.

“That’s my cue.” Steve stood up just as Bucky rounded the corner, “If you need anything me and Banner will be right over there,”

You smiled and thanked him then turned your attention to the super-soldier who just arrived at the foot of your bed.

He didn’t say anything for a while, just looked at you. No, not really. Not at you but through you. A few painstakingly slow seconds went by that way.

“You owe me a new door,” you joked, a half-smile on your face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, finally registering your presence.

You nodded slowly, “I am,”

Then a few more seconds.

Bucky turned his gaze down to his hands, both of them barren and on display for the world to see, before shifting his weight between either foot, “Did he- did he touch you?”

“Not really. Just really liked my legs for some reason,” your attempt at another quip didn’t reach Bucky. He stared back up at you waiting for an answer, an honest one. You sighed, “The damage is more mental,” you admitted, now you were the one not able to look up, “I didn’t like being in this altered state of mind. It’s invasive and . . . scary. He could’ve done things, much worse things but it never got that far or that bad. It was more realizing that I wasn’t completely conscious or present and having that state of mind be taken advantage of, that mostly frightened me. Ya know?”

“More than anyone,” he answered immediately.

You looked back up towards him, finally making eye contact, “But I’m fine now, really. Just a little spooked. Steve wants to do a movie night tonight and I would actually prefer that over being alone.” Your eyes fixated on the way his hands clenched and unclenched on the bar by your feet, “If I’m alone then I’ll get stuck in my head about it. Besides, I consider this a hard victory with a few bumps in the road,”

He chuckled, lulling his head a bit, “You’re too stubborn for your own good,”

You shrugged, “Maybe. How’s Rumlow?”

Bucky hissed and moved over to the side of the bed where he took a seat, “He’s unconscious. And has a hand that he’ll never be able to use again. But other than that, he’s fine,”

You chuckled and Bucky watched how the laugh met your eyes. He liked that look on you. It was one of his favorites.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You questioned once it fell silent between you two again.

“You called me Bucky earlier,” he remembered.

You scoffed, “I call you Bucky all the time,”

“Not to my face,”

“Not to your face,” you agreed, a teasing smile dancing on your lips and Bucky had one that mirrored yours.

“It was nice. Hearing it, I mean,” he admitted and a wave of warmth made its way to your face.

“I see your hands are exposed,”

He looked down as though he weren’t aware that he’d taken off his own gloves, “These bad boys? A friend of mine reminded me that I’m not my past. I’m my present. Why hide my growth?”

You twiddled your thumbs together, “She sounds smart,”

Now he scoffed, “Oh, it wasn’t a girl, it was some old buddy of mine.” He quirked up a brow, “Unless the person being a girl would make you jealous because in that case it was most definitely a girl,”

You fought against the natural tug at the corners of your mouth, “Is she at least pretty?”

“Stunning,”

“Smart?”

“Genius,”

“Good at her job?”

“Amongst the best,”

“Then consider me jealous, Barnes,”

Bucky chuckled and you watched how the laugh met his eyes. You liked that look on him. It was one of your favorites.

1K notes · View notes

blouisparadise · 3 years ago

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Upon request, here is a rec list of BL fics with lots of bum appreciation! 🍑 We hope you enjoy this list! As always, if you want our rec lists to continue being made, please be sure to like this post and reblog it to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Hook’s Intention | Explicit | 5156 words

Harry hadn’t realized what, exactly, being the Captain Hook to Louis’ Peter Pan would entail.

2) Singing Your Praises | Explicit | 6226 words

Prompt 86: Louis rides Harry while wearing his packer’s jersey/sweater and gets his ass ate.

3) Makes Perfect | Explicit | 8610 words

"What if you practiced on like, a mannequin?" Louis presses. "Or one of those blow up sex dolls? Or even just like, I don't know, a pillow or something. Whatever it'd fit around."

Harry tilts his head thoughtfully, curls catching the light so entrancingly that Louis finds himself reaching up to push his fingers through them. "It's different, though, innit? When it's a real person. A pillow won't snog me."

"Why should it?" says Louis. "You can't even take its bra off."

4) Maybe I’m Just Kinda Bored (It Is What It Is) | Mature | 9085 words

In hindsight, sneaking out of the hotel to go clubbing just a few days before his heat hadn’t been Louis’ smartest idea.

5) Let Me Be Your Good Night | Explicit | 10517 words

Louis goes on a shit Valentines date and Harry's the cute waiter who takes him home.

6) Got Me Feelin’ Like | Explicit | 12306 words

Strangers, Harry and Louis, accidentally wore matching costumes, leading everyone to think they're a couple when they definitely are not.

7) Put It On Me | Explicit | 14890 words

Harry's bachelor party doesn't go as planned.

8) This Play Between The Sheets | Explicit | 15746 words

The totally gratuitous BDSM fic where Louis’ is a drama queen and gets far too excited to pay attention to who he’s texting.

9) Sometimes A Fantasy | Explicit | 18654 words

There’s nothing to complain about when Harry’s walking around their flat with his cock swinging about, nothing to complain about when Harry’s pressing himself up against Louis’ naked backside when he’s reaching for a mug in their cupboards, and nothing to complain about when Harry’s got his hand firm on Louis’ arse when they’re cuddling on the couch.

So, in reality, it’s really fucking weird, and Louis knows that.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it.

10) Kiss And Tell (Me A Lie) | Explicit | 19827 words

It takes three friends, a video game, and an arse tattoo for Harry to realize the truth.

11) Let Me Carry Your Weight | Explicit | 28633 words

Louis is fresh out of a bad relationship with someone who made him feel awful about how he looked. on his journey to better himself, he meets harry - the ridiculously attractive and fit personal trainer.

12) Always Come Back To You | Explicit | 28682 words

“I’ll do it,” Harry offers brightly. No one even blinks. “I’ll do it?”

Louis sighs irritably. “Shut up,” he orders, tossing a pillow in the general direction of Harry’s face. This is a terrible time for jokes, especially Harry’s lame, old people ones.

Not that it was an old people joke. Just that most of the time Harry’s jokes consist of knock-knocks or terrible puns. The type of jokes old people like, Louis’ pretty sure. His nan always finds them hilarious when Harry tells her one.

Harry bats the pillow out of the air without even blinking. “Be reasonable, Lou,” he says in his most reasonable voice.

Louis is perfectly reasonable, thank you very much, and he’s also frustrated and upset and tired and he really wants to punch something. Maybe he should have held on to that pillow a little longer.

“You’re not gonna fucking do it,” he snaps. “That’s the last thing I need.”

13) Amazing Sin | Explicit | 56034 words

Gears started turning in Louis’ head. Purely mischievous gears that had Louis formulating a revenge plan against Taylor. He’d had enough of sitting around and taking it. If she was going to call him a whore, then fine, he’ll act like one for real. “I’m going to say something, and as my friends you are obligated to love me anyway.”

“This can’t be good,” Niall said, Zayn just groaned.

“So I know we have this strict ‘no lashing back at Taylor’ rule with me, but what if I can get press revenge a different way?” Louis asked. He wasn’t expecting an answer, because they knew by now to just go with it. “What if I stole her boyfriend?”

14) Louis Lucas | Explicit | 67999 words

Note: This fic has mentions of top Louis.

Pornstar!AU. Louis is a pornstar with more issues than he can drink away. Harry is a bisexual singer/songwriter who is desperate to be signed to a major label. Zayn and Liam are Louis’s long-suffering best friends (who also happen to be pornstars, and also happen to be dating each other). Niall just wants to play his guitar.

15) Mind Over Matter (You Under Me) | Explicit | 73825 words

Prompt 21: Harry stopped playing hockey (after 10 years of a professional career) because of a severe injury. The dream he worked so hard for vanished in the blink of an eye. His family insisted that he had to go to physical therapy, even if it only helped his health. Cue to personal assistant Louis, the most efficient and kind PA one could hire.

16) You Drive Me Crazy (But It Feels Alright) | Teen & Up | 102036 words

Note: This fic has mentions of BH.

“Harry is not short for Harold,” he corrects, his voice as thick as molasses. He lowers his eyes to Louis’ sequined lapels, rubbing one between two fingers. “Is this small or extra small? It looks lovely.”

Louis breaks away from his grip with a petulant huff and pushes him back with two fingers.

“You’re mocking me. Again.”

Harry smiles and it's a real honest swoop of his lips this time. Louis’ stomach swoops with them.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #blp #blp fic recs #bum appreciation #fic recs

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wri0thesley · 4 years ago

Note

I'd love to request more Naoya smut with him and a now pregnant!reader from that breeding fic because him busting a nut thinking about how good they'll look knocked up really made me feel some type of way!!! maybe reader-chan will even finally get a smooch from this HORRIBLE man. If you are not into doing continuations on requests no worries tho and thank you for your incredible writing as always, Nat!

reader can have a little smooch. as a treat. don’t let naoya hear you say he’s not a good husband <3

Expecting - Naoya x Fem!Reader (3.3k)

Both of you got what you wanted. Naoya got more than he bargained for. sequel to covet.

warnings: not sfw, minors dni! afab reader, fem pronouns. pregnancy sex, light lactation, misogyny, power imbalance, breeding kink, mentions of alcohol, naoya perhaps having some Feelings???.

[comments/reblogs are much appreciated! // my jjk masterlist]

Naoya catches you every so often for the next month and you easily roll onto your back for him, helpless under the brush of his fingers and the snap of his hips. He smirks at you when he passes you in the corridor, but you have nothing to show for all of the times you’ve warmed his bed – yet.

When you do, though – when a month and a half passes, and you are beginning to feel sick in a morning, and your monthly bleed has still not made itself known – you go to Naoya with deference in your eye. Once a servant, always a servant – and you are not stupid. You know that what you carry inside you is a bargaining chip.

Naoya wants someone who will submit, and you want an end to the life of drudgery and roughened hands and back-breaking work, of being ignored or reviled or mocked for having the misfortune to not be born with Zenin as a surname. Naoya takes you to a private, discreet physician with an iron grip on your arm and his light eyes sharp.

It’s amazing, how quickly a man like Naoya Zenin can set things in motion – when it’s not simply confirmed that you’re carrying his child, but that you’re carrying his son. His heir.

It’s so easy for him.

Suddenly you are no longer a maid, but Naoya’s betrothed – and though the other members of the household look at you in disgust, knowing that you spread your legs for the title, none of them dare risk Naoya’s ire by being outright rude to you. He and his family spin it like silk; not that Naoya took advantage of a servant, but that you have been part of some grand, beautiful Cinderella story – that Naoya is in love with you.

(It’s probably for the better that the Zenins prefer servants who can see cursed spirits, at the very least – if you had not had any kind of talent for jujutsu, who knows what would have happened to you? Naoya would not have risked his son being born utterly ordinary).

And then you are Naoya’s wife. It wouldn’t do, of course, for the future head of the family to have his heir and son born out of wedlock, even if society have progressed enough that you falling pregnant with said son was before the betrothal. The latter is a disgrace; the former is a laugh over a cup of sake in the dark, a toast to Naoya’s virility, a wink-wink-nudge-nudge at how lucky Naoya is to have found someone who gives themselves up so utterly and completely and easily, including their virtue--

You know that Naoya is not in love with you. You are fairly certain that the only thing Naoya loves is his name, and the power imbued therein. Still. You share a bed with him, and you’re given silken kimonos and pretty hair ornaments and anything that you ask for, and you are . . .

Respected is not quite the right word. Not for a woman who is Naoya’s. Certainly, he does not respect you.

But you are not reviled, not ignored, not beholden to the demands of your betters. Now, you are one of the betters, and if your fellow servants are frustrated that they have to bow to you in deference, they do not dare show it knowing that if you asked Naoya, he would have them punished for the transgression.

You had perhaps thought that once you were bearing his child, Naoya would lose interest in you. You know as well as anyone that nobody would bat an eyelid at Naoya seeking his pleasure somewhere else; it’s almost expected of him to have a mistress, a concubine, to go and sow his wild oats just in case the one he has placed inside of you does not yield the crop expected--

But he doesn’t.

Naoya hates you out of his sight. He is always touching you; hands sliding over your hips, cupping where your bump has become soft and round and pronounced, snapping servants to attention if he thinks you look tired or wan or pale. You accompany him almost everywhere. He looks up from speaking to his father to seek you out, as if to reassure himself that you are still there – and some tension in his shoulders seems to drain away.

He is still Naoya, of course.

You are still swiftly reprimanded by him if you speak out of turn, he still gets servants to do anything for you so he doesn’t have to do it himself, you still walk three steps behind him with your head bowed unless he bids you to do something else – but as time goes on, and your hips widen and your stomach grows and you feel the baby kick, something in him softens.

And something else hardens.

His desire on your flesh, on your form, does not wane. You grow used to the feeling of tangled silken bedsheets below you, of Naoya’s handsome face above you, of the groan and the whine as he spills himself inside of you for the third time that night. And you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

That initial thrill, of being wanted by someone like Naoya, doesn’t fade at all, even though you too are now bowed to in the corridors and the people below you have to jump at your command. And Naoya is not cruel for no reason. Despite the arrogance in his tone, the condescension that drips off of his slow, drawling words, the particular way he has of raising one eyebrow and letting his gaze crawl over you – you have come to enjoy being his.

You did not want equality, after all. You knew your place.

You just wanted better – and Naoya has provided you that in spades.

He’s got his arms spread out over the pillows, his shoulders strong, his eyes hungry as he watches you strip off the kimono you have been wearing today. Your wardrobe now is the height of luxury; all beautiful embroidery, delicate colours, fabrics that cost more than your former monthly salary. Kimono are not made to cling to your body; though people can tell that you are pregnant, it does not over-emphasise your hips or the newly swollen, heavy breast, or the curve of your stomach. Those are things that Naoya never tires of seeing, as the fabric pools around your ankles and the hadajuban is discarded and so are your underwear, and you stand before him utterly bare and unmistakably carrying his child.

“Stay there,” he says, “let me look at you.”

You are a good, well-trained, obedient thing. You stand there as Naoya’s gaze roves over you, straying over and over again to where your hips have filled out even more, where your stomach is curved – where your breasts have begun to droop a little from how heavy and swollen with milk they are. He sighs as he looks you over, and it is the sigh of a man who is indeed very pleased with his work.

“You can move,” he says. He moves the covers off of him, and you are not surprised to see that he is bare; that his cock is already stirring, heavy and thick between his thighs. “Come.” He crooks a finger at you, and you are grateful to be able to move, to take the weight off your ankles as you’re permitted to sit on the bed beside him. His arms wrap around you – they are strong, and certain, and he holds you like you are his property.

Which you suppose you are. Your head lolls back onto his shoulder and he makes a soft huff of amusement, but doesn’t say anything about how brazen you are. You are permitted some special favours, now that you are Naoya’s, and now that you are fulfilling your purpose so beautifully.

Naoya’s lips brush your ear, his tongue lapping at the curve of your neck, the joint between throat and shoulder. You sigh prettily, the warmth of his mouth on you making you shiver. One of his hands curls around your breast, enjoying the heavy weight of you in his hand. Thumb and forefinger gently pinch your nipple.

He was rough with you the first time, but now he treats you like porcelain – and the idea that you are precious to Naoya Zenin sets your stomach aflame, makes your breath stick in your throat. He tugs at it softly, coaxing you to sigh, a drop of liquid leaking from the sensitive nub as you squirm backwards into his lap. His tone is lightly warning as he says;

“Come on, be good. It’s a good sign, sweetheart.”

He calls you sweetheart in front of other people and the ones who have bought this rags-to-riches Cinderella story exchange looks that say ‘isn’t she lucky?’. You hear the light edge in it, the smirk, the loftiness – but it always seems to break into something that’s almost fond, when he’s inside you and touching you and his teeth bite into your neck.

“Just that your body is doing what it’s supposed to do,” your other nipple is subjected to the same treatment, and you feel Naoya’s breath hitch, his cock stir behind you and dig into the small of your back. “I think the moment he’s in his nursery I’m going to fuck another son into you, dearest.”

“Mm?” You say, a little breathless as his hand goes lower. He sweeps his palm over the curve of your stomach, pausing where the skin is tight and swollen. His cock twitches once more at the reminder of how utterly his you are, and how wonderfully you are doing your purpose. How lucky he is, to have found someone submissive and well-trained and obedient and sweet, who looks so luscious full of him.

You drive him to distraction even when you don’t realise he’s looking at you.

“Thighs apart,” he grunts, into your ear, and you comply with the docile nature of someone raised to serve. He loves that about you. Loves, too, when he dips his fingers between your legs and your slick coats his digits, a soft whine catching in the back of your throat as he circles your clit and little shocks spark all through you, making you almost clamp your thighs back around his hand.

You do not, though. You are well-behaved. And you and Naoya have played this game enough times that you know that this is leading to relief for both of you.

One of his long fingers slides inside of you and you widen your thighs more, your soft whimper breaking and pitching – it’s such a servile, sweet little noise that Naoya cannot help but crook his finger, let it rub against the textured spot on your inner walls that has you clenching and gasping.

Since your pregnancy, you have become so sensitive. Naoya is the kind of man who hates working to pleasure a woman – who considers your orgasm a choice, and his a foregone conclusion. But with you swollen and full with his seed, he is slow and indulgent – and it is so easy, now that a brush of his palm makes you shiver and a tug of his teeth on your earlobe makes you gasp.

The finger is pulled out of you, and Naoya raises it to your lips, hooking his finger inside so you open your mouth and let him press your own slick onto your tongue.

Your tongue gently suckling at his finger reminds him of the insistent pounding of need inside of him; the stiff cock, leaking pre-come. He’d gotten so distracted touching you and enjoying you he’d almost forgotten about his own pleasure, and he sighs as he props himself up on pillows and reaches for you.

“Get comfortable,” he tells you.

His preference is to have you beneath him; that, he thinks, is his wife’s proper place. But it has begun to be difficult, with your stomach so distended – and he is nothing, he thinks to himself with more than a touch of smugness, if not an indulgent provider. A good husband.

(That’s what he thinks, anyway. You are not hurt. You get pretty things, and him in your bed, and the estate’s servants at your beck and call, an expensive wedding ring on your finger and the honour of his name affixed to yours, and his seed taking root inside of you. What else could you ask of him?)

So you are permitted to spread your knees, to climb on top of him – to gently sink your tight, wet, heat about his cock and seat yourself comfortably on the muscle of his thighs and the flat planes of his stomach.

“If you had my view,” he says, teasingly. “Mm, you were really made as breeding stock, weren’t you?” The words make heat rush to your face as he cups your hips in his hand again, squeezing the new covering of plush flesh that you’ve acquired since your pregnancy. “My wife.”

The words send a quiet thrill through you. You sigh as he bottoms out, as your body meets his entirely; your hands splaying on his shoulders. He is not flat against the bed – that position is too weak, not fitting for a man of his stature. But he is propped up with pillows behind him, so that he can admire how you look as your teeth bite into your plump bottom lip and you lift yourself just a little off his straining cock, before letting yourself fall back down.

He lets you set the pace. If you are to be permitted to ride him, he thinks, you may as well be the one doing all of the work. Part of him, too, is afraid of touching you too much – of hurting you, when you have something so precious inside of you. He would not admit that to himself – that’s not a thought process befitting of someone of his stature. But . . . it nibbles at the corners of his consciousness.

He cares about you. He does not want to hurt you. He does not want you to be uncomfortable – not when you are doing such a good job, when you are so lovely for him, when he is so grateful to have found you--

It’s no more than I deserve, he reminds himself.

And to brush back thoughts that are not proper for his elevation station in life, he lets himself watch the bounce of your breasts. Lets his fingers dig into the even softer, rounder thighs. Enjoys the sight of your mound bouncing on his cock, the feel of your slick walls clinging to his cock.

You are so beautiful, swollen with his child.

It is the first time he has ever looked at a woman and saw power in them. There is, he thinks, a power in what you have – in the glow about your skin, the brightness of your eyes, the curves and roundness and soft, supple flesh. The thought almost frightens him – but then, you push up again and your eyes meet his own for just a moment and he remembers that you are swollen with his child and have the power of him inside of you, and it becomes comforting.

Without him, you’d be nothing.

So he watches you with hungry eyes as you move your hips on his cock; as his length sinks inside of you, as you angle yourself just so – so that every stroke of your hips makes his cock rub against the place inside you that earlier had you seeing stars. Your breath is getting faster and faster, your fingers on his shoulders flexing as the tight string of your release is wound inexorably closer and closer.

Naoya allows himself a groan; a light thrust of his hips, in time with your own. The chase of your warm, tight walls as you try and pull away. He lets his gaze wander to how his cock is coated in your slick, all wet and shining in the light of the bedroom – and he is once more reassured. This is his. You are his. This wetness, this need – this is all for him. The way your body has changed is because of him.

His own release is creeping up on him.

Today, though, he decides he will be merciful – he reaches forward , curving his fingers just so, so that he can toy with your clit as you continue to fuck him. He rolls the bud with the pad of his fingers (soft; he wields just one weapon, and most people do not get to see it. Most of his harder work is done with his technique, and you have seen him apply expensive hand cream to keep himself handsome), knowing your body as well as he knows his own.

He prides himself on that, and you have spent enough nights in his bed that it is second nature to him. Women are predictable, he thinks, smirk on his face as your channel clenches around his hard cock and you come, whimpering out his name--

(In bed, he prefers Naoya-sama, and you are a good wife. Your tone is servile, soft, obedient – and in return, Naoya is almost sweet to you.)

He thrusts his hips roughly up into you, chasing his own release as your body spasms and trembles about him. You are still so tight; so hot and taut where the aftershocks are making you tremble. It’s the sight of your body, quivering under your release, that does it in the end.

Your hips and stomach and breasts and thighs, all rounded with the miracle of bearing life. All softened and plump; meek and pliant, a perfect little wife. His perfect little wife.

As he feels the tension inside of him snap, one of his hands winds about the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

Naoya’s grunt of pleasure is lost in the kiss, his mouth against yours hard and hungry. He is not willing to give up his dominance even here – but . . .

He has not kissed you so intimately before.

He has always avoided your mouth, preferring his lips on your chest or neck – turning your face away if it had seemed you might go for his mouth (later on, he had not bothered – he knows you well enough now to know that you would not dare.)

He tastes like wine. Like fancy, expensive sweets; the kind that you could have never afforded before you were his, but he has had at his disposal for his whole life. Like a cross between freedom and a prison--

He groans as he fills you up; his cock twitching, shooting out thick ropes of his come to land thick and heavy in your insides. Your whimper at the sensation is lost in his mouth, but Naoya fails to miss it – the fingers around the nape of your neck stroke through your hair, almost comforting, as he pulls back from you.

His lips are shiny, full and pretty. The grin that he gives you is crooked – and though you know it should not, though you know you should hate him for being arrogant and cruel and considering you lesser than him, the grin sends a rush of affection all through you.

If you were sentimental, you would say that the affection is mirrored in his own pale eyes.

(Naoya is glad you are not; you cannot see, beneath the triumph that you are claimed and carrying his heir and the hunger for your body and the pleasure that you are exactly the kind of wife that he wanted, that perhaps he does care about you.)

“My little wife,” he says, and he brushes his thumb over your cheek, hot with the rush of blood. “You’re so good for me.”

And you’ll carry on being so.

You’re so lovely when you’re expecting.

#naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya x you #naoya smut #jjk x reader #naoya zenin smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #not sfw #afab reader #fem pronouns #pregnancy for ts #breeding kink for ts #misogyny for ts #Anonymous

1K notes · View notes

lady-literature · 4 years ago

Text

Found Family

holy shit did this one get way out of hand. Don’t expect them all to be this long because hot damn this is a monster compared to literally everything else but it just wouldn’t stop

(should I have expected this? probably. we all know how I am about found family.)

anyway enjoy 4.5k words ig

based on this post | @maribatmarch-2k21 | find more here

***

When Marinette had been chosen to intern with Monsieur Wayne’s PA, she hadn’t been expecting anything special. Sure, the Waynes were an odd breed and generally considered strange, but Marinette hadn’t actually expected to have much contact with them—if any at all.

She was here to earn credit for her business degree.

Instead, she has… well. She thinks she’s been somehow inducted into the Wayne family, mostly on accident and kind of as a joke.

That is, until it very much wasn’t.

***

Her first mistake, she supposes, was being too good at her job.

Marinette is an old hand at keeping track of multiple moving parts and riding herd on stubborn people who’d otherwise be too distracted or goofing off. (She was the Court’s leader for more than just being the latest in a long line of Ladybugs, after all.)

After the first two days shadowing Selina—“please, darling. Ms Kyle is so formal”—and learning the broad strokes of the job, Marinette felt confident enough to dig her nails in and get to work. Selina spent most of her time dedicated to international tasks and arranging Monsieur Waynes’ private affairs—all of which was highly classified and not discussed with Marinette—so she turned her attention to inter-company affairs.

Her first order of business was personally meeting with as many people in managerial positions as she could get. Not a requirement for the job per se, but these were people she’d have to interact with often and Maman had always stressed the importance of building connections in the workplace.

“People,” she would say, “are far more willing to do what you want them to when you’ve endeared yourself to them.”

So Marinette takes that advice and spends her breaks and lunches charming employees and giving baked goods to security guards and learning the names of the cleaning crew. She doesn’t speak to the department heads, because Selina handles their correspondences, but everyone else is free game as far as she’s concerned.

She becomes a well-recognized face astoundingly quickly.

***

Marinette probably should’ve seen the rumors coming.

It’s common practice in not only the Wayne family, but in most business conglomerates, for the children to quickly rise through the ranks of their company—if not just handed a high position right off the bat.

It took barely a month before the eldest was all but running Human Resources, and the second was placed as Head of Security practically out of nowhere. Monsieur Drake is the youngest (and most terrifyingly calculated) CEO to ever hold Wayne Enterprises, even if he does share the title with his father.

The other three are still too young or have yet to express an interest in the company, but people say it’s only a matter of time.

The track record speaks for itself, even if Marinette wishes it didn’t.

As a girl who’d come mostly out of nowhere and found herself with far more divisive sway in the company than she had any right to, it’s no wonder everyone thinks she’s some sort of secret Wayne finally coming out of hiding.

Marinette had nearly choked on her coffee when Selina dropped the bomb of that particular tidbit of company gossip.

“Most think you’ve been unofficially adopted,” Selina tells her, looking far too amused for Marinette’s liking. “Seeing as you’re too old for official avenues now.”

Marinette looks up warily from the schedule she’s rearranging. Selina had all but shoved the thing at her a month ago when she started suggesting more efficient ways of managing the CEOs’ valuable time.

“Only most? Does that mean the rest have common sense?”

Selina’s grin widens even further, if that’s possible, and Marinette regrets her question even before the older woman starts speaking.

“Oh, of course not!” she laughs delightedly. “The rest are hoping to hear news of wedding bells. It’s high time someone swept a Wayne off the market, don’t you think?”

***

“So you’re the new little sister I keep hearing about.”

Marinette stares up through narrowed eyes at the brightly smiling Dick Grayson. In her stomach, there are already the beginnings of resignation starting to form.

“It’s nice to finally meet you!”

This man is going to bring her nothing but trouble. She can tell.

***

Dick takes a liking to her. And she, against her better judgment, finds herself doing the same to him.

It’s a little hard not to, if she’s being honest. He’s bright and bubbly and brings her bagels during his morning break without her ever having asked.

It takes practically no time at all before Marinette considers him a friend, relaxing when he’s near and laughing openly at his ridiculous jokes. Despite being the head of HR, he’s not great at the whole ‘professional’ thing and often employees will walk by to find him draped across a chair or balancing precariously on the edge of her desk while she tries and fails to get some work done while he’s around.

It really doesn't help all of the ‘Marinette is a Wayne’ rumors running around. Especially when Dick starts pointedly calling her every variation of ‘little sister’ that he can think of just to annoy her (and, she knows, because he thinks the entire situation hilarious).

***

Three weeks after befriending Dick, Selina all but shoves her into Monsieur Drake’s office and, in no uncertain words, says, “He’s your problem now.”

Marinette blinks at what she can describe as nothing other than a disaster area and just… sighs.

Tim blinks back at her.

The motion is somehow both completely blank and filled with an uncomfortable amount of knowing at the same time. There is also, she notices, a frankly ludicrous amount of concealer caked beneath his eyes and more coffee cups scattered on every flat surface than Marinette has ever seen in her life.

She knows his schedule like the back of her hand seeing as she spends hours of her day pouring over it to make sure everything runs smoothly. He has no prior engagements for the next three hours.

“You’re not going to take a nap just because I ask, are you?”

He snorts. “Absolutely not.”

She nods, having expected the answer; her phone was already at her ear before he even finished speaking. “Hey, Dick!” she greets, sounding brighter than she feels at the moment, and watches as Tim stiffens in front of her. “Yeah, no. I was just wondering if you’re busy right now.” She pauses. “Oh, good! Can you come up to Tim’s office for me? Yeah, I need you to knock him out so I can fix his dumpster fire of an office.”

Tim has since started waving his hands frantically at her, panic setting in behind his eyes.

Marinette stares at him, unmoved. “Thanks, Dick! You’re the best!”

The silence after she hangs up is deafening.

“I don’t know if I should be impressed by the ease you’re manipulating me or pissed off that you’re doing it in the first place.”

She hums thoughtfully. “Does your decision have any bearing on my future employment?”

His eyes squint. “…No.”

Marinette shrugs, mind already whirling with what she’ll need to get done first and calculating how long she’ll likely have to get it done. “Then I think you should skip right over both of those and land on resignation as quickly as possible, Monsieur, because you’re going to have to get used to it regardless.”

It’s silent for a long moment, and she worries for just a second that she’s severely crossed some sort of line. Then Tim bursts out laughing instead of, you know, firing her like he probably should have.

“Oh, yeah. You’re going to fit right in here.”

Marinette doesn’t ask where the ‘here’ is. She’s pretty sure she already knows.

***

It takes ten days for Marinette to wrangle Tim’s life into something resembling order. His office is clean and organized to his liking. She’s developed a system of filing so that all paperwork goes through her and is quickly sorted into ‘can be handled by Marinette’, ‘forge his signature and tell him about it later’, and ‘actually important enough to have Tim read through’.

His schedule is the most efficient it’s ever been and Marinette is quickly honing the skill of getting him properly dressed and out of his office in under thirty minutes. (Dick is, thankfully, a great teacher and has little to no qualms about giving her the key to all his little brother’s weaknesses.)

Selina stares at her when Marinette all but drags Tim from his office, a folder tucked neatly under his arm and the sugary monstrosity of a caffeinated beverage she’s bribed him with in her own, with a whole ten minutes to spare before his meeting with the Board.

“My dear,” she says solemnly, “you are positively magic.”

She doesn’t even look up from where she’s simultaneously wrangling Tim’s hair into submission and laying his tie down flat. “You have no idea.”

***

She knows Tim is capable of professionality. She’s seen the cool facade he pulls up in front of the Board members and the kind but impersonal smile he uses on the employees of Wayne Enterprises. (He is not the Ice Prince of the Wayne family, but Marinette believes he should have some equally ruthless sounding title.) He is aloof and sharp and every inch the businessman people praise him to be.

She’s seen it. And yet…

“Monsieur. Why are all the Lexcorp contracts I gave you done in crayon?”

Tim doesn’t stop messing with his Rubix cube or even look up at her when he says, “Cause deadbeat fathers don’t deserve the respect of a pen.”

Marinette is very tired. She does not have time for this. “What are you talking about?”

“Lex is a bitchass absentee dad and I live to inconvenience him.”

“What about inconveniencing me?” she all but whines. “I can’t hand him these!”

That does make Tim look up at her, eyes wide with false innocence and mouth pouting up at her. “But sister dearest, I’m your little brother. It’s my job to inconvenience you.”

Growling in frustration is probably an inappropriate reaction to the situation.

But, Marinette thinks, so is the fact that both of the Waynes she associates with regularly seem hellbent on convincing the world that she too, is a Wayne, so.

(Is this how Alya felt dealing with the twins? Cause if so, Marinette takes back every joke she ever made—little siblings are a bitch.)

***

She meets Damian without warning.

Honestly, she never really expected to meet him at all but, well.

She finds him in Monsieur Wayne’s office, sitting at his father’s desk and doing something that she thinks is vaguely illegal, but she’s not about to tell her Boss a dozen times over how to parent his children.

Damian is a near-perfect copy of his father with darker skin and calculating green eyes. There’s also a more potent aura of danger around the child than there is around his father, like Damian hasn’t yet learned how to hide behind his public persona as his father had.

Or, Marinette looks at the teen thoughtfully, perhaps he just chooses not to.

“Monsieur Wayne,” she greets. Children like to be treated like adults, she knows, and Marinette doesn’t think this one is any different. “Selina hadn’t told me you’d be in the office today.”

“I don’t run my schedule by her,” he says flatly. A response she expected considering Dick’s stories.

“Of course not,” she agrees.

He finally deigns to look up at her and something flits across his expression, too fast for her to pick up on it. “Are those for Father? Bring them here, I’ll deal with them in his absence.”

Marinette raises her eyebrow. “I’m not sure that’s wise Monsieur.”

Damian scowls and sticks his hand out. “I’m perfectly capable of forging Father’s signature. Give them here.”

She does not move and, instead, lets her lips quirk up into the smile she’s been fighting since she stepped in here.

“I don’t doubt it,” she tells him, and she doesn't. Forgery seems exactly like the kind of skill a child who broke into the CEO’s office of a multi-billion dollar company would have. “But you’ll find that all forging of signatures has been finished for the day and that these,” she shakes the sheaf of papers lightly, “actually require your father’s attention.”

He snorts disbelievingly and it says a lot about Marinette’s life up until now that the blatant display of disrespect doesn’t piss her off but instead reminds her of Chloé and of the fact that she still needs to reschedule their spa day. It's been too long since they spent time together in person.

“Well,” she pauses and eyes the papers thoughtfully. “‘Requires’ in the sense that its information needed to trounce the Board when they start spouting off greedy bullshit about cutting corners on our humanitarian efforts. I’m not sure how much of it is actually useful for anything besides that.” She shrugs. “But homework is homework, yes?”

That gets her a thoughtful once-over. His hand lowers and he then turns back to whatever he’s messing with on his father’s computers.

“Very well,” he concedes. “Father will be back in approximately thirteen minutes. You can leave the papers and I’ll inform him of their… importance.” He smirks, but it’s more like he’s letting her in on a joke than anything else.

Marinette smiles back as she sets the folder on the desk, feeling, oddly, like she’s passed some sort of test.

***

The day after, both Dick and Tim are waiting for her with what looks like an entire bakery laid out in her workspace.

“Uh,” she says eloquently, setting her purse down on her chair because there’s not a single open space on her desk not filled with some kind of pastry. “What’s all this?”

She looks up to find neither Dick nor Tim has stopped staring at her since she walked in. “We heard you met Damian yesterday,” Dick starts warily, like he’s scared of her reaction.

The response does not abate her confusion.

“Yes, I did,” she says slowly. “That does not explain all… this.” She waves a hand, trying to encompass them as well as the state her desk is in.

The two brothers share a look.

“It’s a bribe,” Tim tells her simply and Marinette is taken aback for all of a second before her eyes suddenly narrow.

Dick cuts in hastily before she can say anything. “It’s more of an apology, really. For Damian’s behavior.”

But Marinette is confused and frustrated and just a bit offended by the apparent not-bribe at this point. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, but it only does so much.

“Damain’s behavior was fine,” she tells them with measured neutrality. “You two, on the other hand, are being weird and it’s freaking me out.” She crosses her arms expectantly. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

Appearing from out of nowhere, Selina drapes herself along Marinette’s shoulders and snags a raspberry scone. “I do believe,” she says as if sharing a secret, “That they are trying to keep you from quitting, kitten.”

Marinette wrinkles her nose. “Why would I quit? I like this job.”

She also likes the Waynes (in general, if not right then) and she likes Selina. The woman was a good mentor who didn’t shy away from the dirtier parts of the job and taught Marinette all she knew. (Even the bits, she noticed, that had little to nothing to do with being a personal assistant and were more likely to be found in the repertoire of a thief.

But, Marinette is in possession of her own sticky fingers and knows how to not ask questions, so. You know—curiosity killed the cat and all.)

She doesn’t voice any of that, but Selina, at least, knows it anyway. Marinette isn’t quiet about her gratitude after all.

“First meetings with the youngest Wayne don’t often go well,” Selina tells her. “In fact, I think he has a habit of making the interns cry.”

Dick makes some kind of offended noise. “Hey! He hasn’t done that since he was twelve!”

Tim elbows him in the ribs and Marinette makes a vaguely skeptical face at all three of them before deciding it wasn’t worth it. She has actual work to get done today and pastries to get rid of before she can even start.

She pats affectionately at Selina’s hand before grabbing as many boxes as she can hold. “Come on you two,” she says to the brothers. “You’re going to help me hand these out to the rest of the company.”

Dick immediately starts doing as told but Tim hesitates, humming thoughtfully. “You know that’s not going to help your whole ‘I’m not actually a Wayne’ thing, right?”

She glares at him. It doesn’t stop Tim from grinning like the utterly unrepentant little shit he is.

***

Things are quiet after the Damian Incident for a whole two weeks. It’s the longest lull Marinette has had since she first started and became somehow involved with the Waynes.

It ends because Dick finds out about the crush Marinette has been nursing on the Head of Security for three months now.

The Head of Security who is Jason Todd: second eldest Wayne sibling and Dick’s brother.

He takes it better than expected.

(Almost, she thinks later, a little too well.)

***

Despite her friendship with Dick and Tim—or perhaps because of it?—Jason had never seemed very interested in her. At first, Marinette had shrugged and counted it as a win; there was one Wayne, at least, who neither found her situation funny nor used it to poke fun at her.

They were on friendly terms, she supposed. Security has always been one of her more regular stops in the building, so she’d spoken to him often enough. He liked complaining that she spoiled his team rotten with all her treats.

But she also noticed that he likes her cherry danishes, so.

And then she noticed how crooked his grin was when he smiled. And how he seemed to have an arsenal of nicknames for everyone he knew. And the small collection of classic romance novels filled with sticky notes he tries and fails to hide in his desk. And, and, and.

It was around the time she began unconsciously memorizing his schedule based on when he was and was not there for her pastry deliveries, that she realized she may have made a misstep somewhere.

Jason was stubborn and passionate and flipped between overly proper and crass light a damn light switch. He was also, as stated, very much not interested in her.

Not that she would’ve pursued him anyway. He was a coworker as well as her friends’ brother.

Now if only one of said brothers could understand that.

“You should ask him out,” Dick suggests not for the first time and Marinette sighs, also not for the first time.

She loves Dick—she truly does—but he has been an aggravating level of unhelpful since he found out about Marinette’s latest romantic disaster.

“I’m definitely not doing that.”

Dick groans, like she’s being the unreasonable one. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“Because I don’t like embarrassing myself?” she asks rhetorically. “Not everyone can have a fairy tale romance like you and Wally.”

He throws his coffee stirrer at her. “We are not a fairy tale.”

She shoots him a flat look. She’s heard Dick talk about Wally and Tim’s told her all the stories and she was there when he and Wally finally got their shit together. Dick was unbearable for an entire week with his gooey, lovestruck new lease on life.

“You two are the definition of fairy tale. You two make fairy tales look like trashy romance novels.”

He opens his mouth to argue the point before forcibly cutting himself off. “No. Stop distracting me. We’re not talking about that; we’re talking about you and Jason.”

“There is no ‘me and Jason’,” she reminds him through her clenched teeth.

“Not yet,” he says optimistically. Like it’s a fact, like he knows something she doesn’t.

He makes her want to slam her face into a wall. Truly, he does.

***

Dick stops running his HR papers up to her office. Instead, he’s somehow convinced Jason to play errand boy for him even though he literally never looks happy about it. What used to be a flimsy excuse for Dick to slack off for a few minutes and gossip with her has now turned into awkward silence as Jason drops off the papers and leaves without even a ‘hello’.

During their shared breaks, Dick takes to orchestrating ‘chance encounters’ between her and Jason, all but shoving them into each other (and even actually shoving that one time). She catches Jason shooting dark looks at Dick every time he does it, and if she’d been holding any iota of hope at this point, it’s been smashed to dust. Jason obviously knows of his brother’s meddling and isn’t happy about it.

But Dick just can’t take the hint.

Every failed plan of his makes him steadily worse about it all—more frantic and frustrated and like he wants to strangle her for her stubbornness. (The last feeling being more than mutual.)

Dick’s meddling starts to make her and Jason’s previously friendly, if distant, relationship awkward and embarrassing. With every pointed comment, she gets closer to just punching Dick in the face. Or, maybe, she’ll just tell Wally who really ate all the chocolate strawberry macaroons she made; it’d certainly be more devastating.

***

It all comes to head on a Thursday, after most employees have left for the day.

They run into each other in a breakroom, and she watches as Jason suddenly goes stiff, eyes flicking over her shoulder to no doubt scan for Dick. That single action makes her expression sour and she slams her empty mug down with more force than was necessary.

For Kwamis sake, he looks like a cornered animal. An image not helped by the way he jumps a foot in the air and stares at her like he’s worried she’ll suddenly lunge at him.

“Can we agree this is ridiculous?” she says abruptly. “I don’t know what Dick is trying to accomplish with his wingman schtick, but we both know it’s not going to work. Can we just… agree that he’s an idiot?”

A complicated look crosses Jason’s face before he snorts wryly. “Yeah, we can agree on that. Dickie-boy has always been a few sandwiches short a picnic.”

“I know things have been awkward between us lately, and I’m sorry about that, but I hope we can keep being friends?” she says hopefully.

“What in the world do you have to be sorry about?” he asks before she can start catastrophizing about the bewildered expression he makes at her words. “It’s not your fault.”

The smile she shoots him is rueful and she shakes her hand in an ‘ehh’ type gesture. “Kinda is. And I understand if the-” she makes a vague gesture between them that she hopes properly conveys ‘my giant, stupid crush on you’, “you know, is too much for you. Just say the word I’ll try and keep out of your way.”

She’s trying to be comforting or understanding or something like that, but all her words seem to do is make him upset. “Absolutely not,” he insists. “Sunshine, you are not going to change your routine just to make me feel better.”

Marinette crosses her arms, frowning up at him. “Why shouldn’t I? If I’m making you uncomfortable-”

He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Uncomfort- Marinette. ” She jolts a bit at the use of her name. She doesn’t think he’s used it since her second week at W.E. “I’m not sure who made you think otherwise—and if it was Dick just tell me cause I’ll kick his ass —but barring the fact that I still enjoy your friendship regardless of any… feelings-” Marinette concentrates very hard on not showing emotion when he says that, “-it’s not your responsibility to deal with it.”

Okay, but… that makes no sense. Of course her feelings were her responsibility, that’s the whole point of them being hers.

“If it’s not mine, then whose responsibility is it then?” she asks, wondering where the hell his train of thought is running.

“Mine, obviously.”

She gives him a look, complete with narrowed eyes and thinly veiled judgment. “What? Is this some kind of gentleman’s martyr complex? Is that what’s happening right now?”

Jason huffs a laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “If me taking responsibility for my own damn feelings is a martyr complex then sure,” he snarks, not unkindly. More like he’s trying to protect himself by retreating behind a sour attitude.

Her mouth is halfway around a retort when his words catch up to her brain and she freezes.

“Your feelings?” she repeats. “Your feelings for… me?”

His voice is carefully neutral when he says, “Those would be the ones.”

Her mouth opens and closes and opens again. “You like me? Seriously?”

His face spasms at the question, starting at anger before he properly looks at her and the surprised expression on her face. He pales.

“You didn’t know?”

“No!” she squeaks, something she hasn’t done since she was fifteen. “Well Dick said but I didn’t believe him!”

And fuck, she thinks. This means Dick knew the whole damn time, didn’t he? Oh, she is so going to kill him the second she gets the chance.

Jason runs a hand down his face, covering his mouth as he gathers his bearings. Suddenly, his eyes shoot back open and land on her. “Wait. If you didn't know, then what the hell were you talking about just now?”

She blushes to the tips of her ears and buries her face in her hands so she doesn’t have to look at him. It was easy when she thought he’d figured it out himself. It’s harder now that she has to tell him. “I- I was talking about my crush on you.”

He’s quiet for so long that she gets antsy and peeks out from behind her fingers to see his expression. He’s still looking at her, but now there’s a wide, crooked smile on his face. The expression softens something in her chest and she lowers her hands.

“Really?” he asks, leaning closer.

Marinette nods, feeling a small smile spread across her lips.

He jolts forward, hands reaching for her before suddenly stopping just shy of touching. She startles a bit at the motion but doesn’t move away.

Jason licks his lips, smile smaller but no less bright. “I- can I?”

She blinks. “Can you what?”

“Kiss you.”

The blush returns full force, but with it also comes a smile, giddy and bright. She nods and no sooner than she does, is he swooping down to pull her into a toe-curling kiss. His hands cup her face with a tenderness that makes her smile, makes her giddy, and it’s not long before they’re both smiling too wide to actually kiss and are forced to break apart.

His hands fall to her back, practically engulfing her, and his chin drops onto her head. It’s warm and cozy and she thinks she could so very easily get used to this.

Later, they’re going to have to deal with Dick and Tim and Selina and the teasing they’ll no doubt have to endure—not to mention how much worse the rumors are going to get—but right now? Right now Marinette pulls Jason back down for another kiss and very pointedly doesn’t think about it.

#maribatmarch2021 #maribat #mlb x dc #jasonette #my typewriter #platonic dickinette #platonic timari

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chilucult · 3 years ago

Text

posting my chiluc smut here first bc I don't have an ao3 account (yet)! will post the ao3 link once I get an account and get it posted.

again, this is smut, minors begone.

also, this is my first fic ever, so feel free to roast me.

another warning, this is long (~10k words)

fic under the cut!

The Fatui Harbinger had been coming to the Angel’s Share for the past few nights. He called himself “Childe”. Diluc was not very fond of him, what with him being with the Fatui and all, but he was a paying customer, so Diluc treated him as he did every other patron. Diluc just wished this Childe guy would treat him like every other bartender.

“Can I get another shot? Pretty please, oh pretty barkeep?” Ajax batted his eyes at Diluc, noticing the man give a slight eye roll before he began to pour the Harbinger his requested shot.

Ajax had been trying to get the attention of this particular bartender for some nights now. When he had first entered the Angel’s Share tavern, his sight had tunnel-visioned on the entrancing man behind the bar with fiery red hair. Ajax knew he had to have him. The bartender, Diluc, his name tag read, was not as perceptive to Ajax’s advances as he had hoped he would be.

Diluc set down the shot he had ordered in front of him, jerking him out of his musings. “Would you like me to add this to your tab, sir?” Diluc asked him, all business. Oh, but Ajax would never tire of hearing the man’s voice, wanting to hear how it sounded when it was screaming his name.

Ajax cocked his head to the side to appreciate the view from a different angle. “Yes, please; and like I said, call me Childe.” He tried not to get discouraged when he saw Diluc scoff a bit. “Actually, you can call me anything you like,” he shot back with a wink.

Diluc only scoffed again, wiping down a glass from another customer. “I’m not going to call you by some made-up name. ‘Childe’ is ridiculous, anyway,” he explained, choosing to ignore the wink the Fatui man had sent him.

Ajax downed his shot easily, smirking slightly at Diluc’s raised eyebrow. “I told you that you could call me anything you want. Although, I certainly didn’t mind ‘sir’ either, if that’s what you’re into,” Ajax all but purred, his eyes half lidded in intent.

Diluc chuckled a bit sarcastically at that. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he shot back, only resorting to responding in such a manner because the Harbinger was pushing his buttons.

Ajax leaned forward on the bar, getting closer to the man of his desires. “Oh I would absolutely love to know just exactly what you’re into,” he whispered darkly, knowing that Diluc could still hear his every word. Ajax mentally pumped his fist when he saw Diluc inhale sharply at that.

Diluc narrowed his eyes at the man in front of him. “Are you... flirting with me?” he asked, genuinely unsure.

Ajax’s eyes widened at the question before he sat back on his barstool with a laugh. “‘Am I flirting with you?’! Um, yeah, actually, have been for the past few days,” he laughs again, thinking it absurd that it took Diluc this long to figure out. “But thanks for noticing, I guess.” He still shook his head to himself, wondering if he had lost his flirting skills or if Diluc was just particularly dense.

Diluc felt his cheeks start to heat up, and quickly turned his back to the Harbinger. The Harbinger that was flirting with him. Diluc couldn’t understand why. The man was clearly out of Diluc’s league, surely he hadn’t missed all the other patrons in the tavern staring at him, had he? So, as he fiddled with empty glasses, wiping them down just to have something to occupy his hands with, he softly asked, “Why?”

Ajax tore his eyes from where he was blatantly staring at Diluc’s ass to meet the man’s hesitant eyes looking over his shoulder. “Why? Are you kidding me? You’re kidding right?” Diluc broke their eye contact, shyly looking down at the floor, which was not what Ajax wanted. “I don’t think we have time to cover my entire list of reasons, Red.” Diluc looked back at him questioningly, both at the nickname and the statement.

“You just look so... breathtaking.” Diluc turned back around to face Ajax, but couldn’t meet his eyes just yet. “Since I first saw you a few nights ago, I knew I just had to have you. I wanna know how beautiful you look when you let your hair down, what kinds of noises you’ll make when I pull on it. Wanna know how you sound after I’ve broken you, how you’ll look after I’ve made a mess of you,” Ajax murmured, slowly standing from his stool and crowding into Diluc as much as he could with the bar between them. He smirked victoriously when he saw Diluc breathing a bit heavier, his cheeks flushed a bright pink.

A loud clang from somewhere in the tavern jolted them apart, someone probably having knocked over their drink. Diluc’s eyes darted about the place, hoping no one had seen them just now. “Oh my- gods, you can’t say stuff like that here, I’m working,” he seethed, attempting to convey his annoyance, but knowing the Harbinger could probably see right through him.

“Not here?” Ajax repeated, a feral grin beginning to grow on his face. “So I could do it, say, in your bedroom?” He asked suggestively.

Diluc couldn’t deny his attraction to the Fatui man. He was hot, what could Diluc say? He had just never thought the man would be interested in him, but he had clearly been wrong. Plus, the things that he had been talking about did sound rather enticing...

He lowered his voice, praying to the gods that none of the other patrons in the tavern could hear what he was saying. “If I say yes, will you quit... teasing me for the rest of my shift?”

Ajax pulled away a bit, suddenly serious. “Hey now, don’t make it sound like I’m forcing you. If you really want me to cut it out and leave, just say the word and I’ll be gone.” He couldn’t stop the small smirk from gracing his lips as he said his next words. “But something tells me that you really don’t want me to stop.”

Diluc flushed, averting his eyes once again. “Do you think I would even consider going home with you if I didn’t want it?” He whispered, embarrassed to have to admit his desires, but also wanting to make his intentions clear.

Ajax grinned wickedly. “Perfect,” he purred. “So when do you get off work, Red?”

Diluc pouted slightly at the nickname before he glanced at the clock on the wall. “In... a little less than an hour. Think you can be patient for that long?”

“If I get to take you home? I’d wait forever,” Ajax grinned easily. He could see Diluc’s cheeks redden, but could also see the weak glare the man sent his way. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave you to work in peace.”

For the next hour, Diluc tried to carry on with his work normally, he really tried. Yet, he found it impossible to ignore the stirring of emotions in his gut. He was excited for the night ahead, yes, but there was also nervousness and anxiety eating away at him. He knew he wasn’t the most... experienced person out there. He had only ever slept with one girl years ago, finding it not to his liking. He had never even been with a man (unless you count that one guy he made out with a few years back). He hoped his inexperience wouldn’t be a dealbreaker for the man.

He also found it hard to ignore the presence of the Harbinger. He had kept his word, not making any more moves at Diluc, but Diluc couldn’t shake the feeling of the other man’s eyes tracking his every movement. Every so often when Diluc would sneak a peek at him, he would find the Harbinger shamelessly staring at him, eyes roaming over his body slowly, hungrily. He couldn’t help the flush in his cheeks, nor the way he fidgeted self-consciously with his apron.

When Charles came to finally relieve Diluc of his bartending duties, he could see the clear excitement in the Harbinger’s eyes. Diluc took off his apron, leaning in close to the man to whisper, “Meet me out back.” He almost laughed at the way the man bolted from his seat.

Ajax was waiting patiently behind the tavern for only a few minutes before the fiery redhead made his appearance. “So, where to, Red?” His lips twitched into a small smile as they began walking, noticing that Diluc was just slightly shorter than him.

Diluc grumbled to himself, “Since you’ve been coming to the tavern for days, I would’ve hoped you’d bother to read my name tag once.” He continued when the man beside him chuckled, nodding his head in the direction of the city gates. “The manor is a bit outside the city, hope you don’t mind a bit of a walk.”

Ajax cut himself off from the smooth retort of I’d walk to the ends of the earth to get you into bed with me to look at Diluc inquisitively. “Wait... manor?”

Diluc went on to explain that he owned the winery in Mondstadt, as well as the large manor house that was on the property. He also mentioned that he owned the tavern they were just at, internally preening at the impressed look on the Harbinger’s face.

After that, a silence fell between the two as they walked. Diluc didn’t seem to be one to make small talk much, and Ajax was perfectly fine just taking in the scenery, not feeling the need to run his mouth for once. It was comfortable.

Diluc was infinitely glad that he dismissed his house staff early each night, comforted by the fact that there would be no interruptions. As soon as he walked through the front door, his back was being shoved against the hard wood, the gasp he let out being swallowed by the incessant lips capturing his own. His eyes fell closed as he was kissed breathless against the door, a gloved hand gripping his hip and pinning him in place. Diluc slowly raised a hand to rest on the man’s shoulder as his mouth was invaded by the other’s tongue.

Diluc ripped his head back once the Harbinger gave him room to breathe. “H-hold on,” he panted, tilting his head slightly as the man hummed against the skin of his jaw in response. “I have... two things. F-first,” he stuttered out as the skin beneath his jaw was nipped lightly. “You need to tell me your name. I- I’m not calling you Childe.” His eyebrows furrowed in distaste at the name, even while his eyes slipped shut once again from the soft kisses being left on his neck.

Ajax chuckled against the skin of Diluc’s neck. He peppered light kisses across the skin of his jaw, making his way to the other’s ear, where he whispered, “It’s Ajax. Please do remember it, I want to hear you screaming it for me tonight.” He nipped at the skin just below Diluc’s ear, smirking at the way the man shivered slightly.

Diluc nodded absently, mouthing the name Ajax to see how it felt on his lips. He let his head fall back against the door as the man- Ajax- continued a trail down his throat. He hummed in content as his lips were captured in a searing kiss once again, only to have the noise turn into a weak whine as Ajax pulled away much sooner than Diluc would have liked.

“Didn’t you have another thing to say, baby?” Ajax questioned, reveling in the hitch in Diluc’s breath at the use of the pet name. Once his words registered with Diluc, he could notice the other man’s demeanor change, suddenly shy. His cheeks were flushed more in embarrassment than arousal, and his hand was nervously fidgeting with the clothes on Ajax’s shoulder. Ajax pulled himself back a bit, trying to give Diluc more room to get out whatever it was that he wanted to say.

“I- I’ve never... I mean, with a, uh, guy, at least... I’ve never, um... done... this,” he stammered out weakly, his words trailing off at the end. Diluc couldn’t bring himself to meet Ajax’s eyes, but he doubted he would’ve been able to read any expression on his face.

There was a moment's pause before Diluc heard Ajax ask, “Do you want to stop?” If there was any judgement in his voice, Diluc certainly couldn’t find it.

If Diluc thought he couldn’t get any more embarrassed than he already was, he was wrong. He internally cringed at how quick he was to respond. “No. No. I want... this. I just... thought you should, uh, know,” he finished weakly. He was emboldened, encouraged to continue by the soft smile on Ajax’s face. “Besides... you still need to follow through with your words,” he taunted, choosing to ignore the flush on his cheeks at the reminder of Ajax’s filthy promises.

The soft grin of Ajax’s face turned sharp as he crowded Diluc against the door once again. He buried his face into the side of the man’s neck, leaving a bite there before whispering against the skin, “Oh, baby. I’m gonna make it so good for you.” He reached down the grab Diluc’s thigh, using the grip he had on his hip with his other hand to lift the redhead, properly pinning him against the door. He smirked at the gasp Diluc let out, the way his legs scrambled to wrap around his waist.

Diluc was thriving. His head was tilted back against the door, his eyes slipped shut in pleasure. Diluc knew he was a large man, his muscles built well and even a bit bulky in some areas. So the way in which Ajax easily lifted him off the ground and was still supporting his weight against the door, was a bit shocking to Diluc. And, apparently, quite the turn on, if the rapid hardening in his pants was anything to go by. Diluc was glad that his long coat was still on, covering what had to be an obvious tent in his pants. He was embarrassed to be so turned on by just a little making out, but perhaps it was just the effect that Ajax had on him.

Ajax continued leaving a trail of bite marks down Diluc’s throat, encouraged by the way Diluc would tilt his head to the side, offering Ajax a larger expanse of skin to mark. “I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else,” he muttered into Diluc’s skin darkly. He bit down at a spot at the base of Diluc’s throat rasher harshly, leaving his lips on the skin to suck on the mark, ensuring it would leave a nice bruise. He glanced up at the sound of a muffled whimper to see Diluc biting his bottom lip, no doubt in an attempt to keep his noises at bay.

Ajax let go of his hip, bringing his hand up to thumb at Diluc’s lower lip, urging him to release it from between his teeth. Diluc complied easily, his eyes slipping open when Ajax tutted at him. “Nuh uh, let me hear you, baby. I wanna hear all the beautiful noises you can make,” he smirked slightly at the small whimper that escaped from Diluc’s lips. “Let me hear how good I make you feel,” he finished with a whisper.

Diluc’s hands flew to the back of Ajax’s head, gripping his hair and bringing him down for a sloppy kiss. Ajax groaned into Diluc’s mouth, his tongue slipping between the other’s lips easily. With his free hand, Ajax attempted to push the heavy coat off of Diluc’s shoulders, but with his back pinned against the door, it was futile. He groaned into Diluc’s mouth again, this time in annoyance, before he ripped himself away from the mouth that was quickly becoming addicting.

Diluc could see that Ajax was about to say something, but cut him off. “Bedroom,” he panted out, knowing Ajax was thinking the same thing. Ajax let him down and nodded at him, and that was all Diluc needed. He grabbed the man’s hand, almost running through the manor to get to the stairs, zipping through the halls to get to his bedroom. He led Ajax into the room, seeing Ajax kick the door closed behind him, before he was promptly thrown onto his own bed.

Diluc gasped as he bounced back on the bed, his length twitching in his pants. He quickly kicked off his socks and shoes as he saw Ajax doing the same, before Ajax pounced on him. His mouth was everywhere, leaving kisses and bites so quickly that Diluc couldn’t even process it before he would move on to a new spot. His hands moved in a frenzy as well, hastily reaching for Diluc’s hands to strip him of his gloves.

Ajax pulled at the collar of Diluc’s coat, wanting the material off hours ago. The coat was still proving difficult, as he had to get Diluc to work his arms out of it, and Ajax declared the coat his new nemesis. He slowed his mouth leaving marks all along Diluc’s neck, carefully getting Diluc to help him pull his arms out of the offending jacket. He pulled back a bit to let Diluc sit up so he could throw the coat to the ground, Ajax delighted to finally be rid of it.

As happy as he was to be rid of Diluc’s coat, Ajax groaned in annoyance at the sight of more layers of clothing hiding the bare skin he so desperately wanted to see. He did take a moment to appreciate Diluc in his bartending uniform, the black dress shirt and white vest making him look oh so cute when paired with his flushed face and heaving chest. Ajax dived in again, mouthing at Diluc’s neck. “So. Many. Fucking. Layers,” he huffed out into Diluc’s skin, impatiently undoing the buttons of his vest.

Diluc let out a breathless laugh, his breathing still heavy from all the attention Ajax was giving his neck. “I don’t see you- ah. I don’t see you taking anything off,” he panted out, thinking it was a bit unfair that he was the only one being undressed. He let one of his hands move to Ajax’s hip, sliding up to feel the small stretch of skin that was exposed by the cut of his shirt. He let his hand wander further up beneath Ajax’s shirt, sucking in a breath at the feeling of abs and corded muscle.

Ajax hummed against the skin of Diluc’s neck at the feeling of his hand against his own bare skin. “All in good time, baby,” he chuckled, pulling away as he had finally gotten the vest unbuttoned. “For now, I want to see how beautiful you are under all these clothes,” he murmured as rid Diluc of the vest.

Diluc squirmed against the bed as Ajax slowly undid the buttons of his dress shirt, not used to being stared at so intensely. Ajax’s eyes were glued to where his hands were meticulously undoing each button, hungrily eating up every inch of newly revealed skin. Once he undid the last button, he unceremoniously pushed it to Diluc’s sides, putting his entire bare torso on display.

Ajax could do nothing but stare. The man laid out before him was breathtaking, and he wasn’t even fully undressed yet. Ajax wasn’t sure if he would make it through this night alive. But oh it would be such a glorious death. He was so caught up in letting his eyes wander about the wide expanse of skin that he didn’t notice Diluc wriggling his arms out of the sleeves. He only noticed when Diluc sat up a bit to toss the shirt to the floor, his abs clenching deliciously.

Diluc continued to squirm against the sheets, hating that Ajax was staring at him silently for so long. He didn’t find Diluc unattractive, did he? Diluc knew that much of his muscle mass was pretty well hidden beneath his clothes, but without them, there was no hiding it. He prayed to the gods that Ajax didn’t mind his extra bulk. “Ajax,” he whined softly, a small pout to his lips.

Diluc whining his name finally snapped Ajax out of his reverie. “Gods,” he whispered, letting his gloved hands slide up Diluc’s chest, coming to cup the pectoral muscles. “So fucking beautiful,” he whispered again, still entranced by the way the flush on Diluc’s cheeks continued down his neck and to his check, covering the pale skin in bright red splotches. His eyes flicked up to Diluc’s face. “Oh, one more thing.” He reached behind Diluc’s head to undo the ponytail that was holding his hair back. After running his fingers through the locks, he leaned back to admire the view.

And what a view he was. Diluc’s face flushed a bright pink, red splotches of blush littering his beautiful pale skin, his chest rising with each breath he took. All of this, framed by a halo of fiery red hair, the curls spilling out and spreading across the sheets.

Ajax’s patience snapped. He dove down to leave a harsh bite at the meat of Diluc’s pectoral muscle, his hands feverishly wanting to map out every dip and curve.

Diluc let out a small “ah-“ at the harsh bite. A high-pitched keening noise ripped from his throat as Ajax laves his tongue over a nipple.

Ajax chuckled through his nose. “Do you like that? Does it feel good?” he murmured into the skin. Diluc let out a whine in response, which simply wouldn’t do, in Ajax’s opinion. “Diluc baby,” he began, pressing a chaste kiss to the man’s lips. “I want you to answer me when I ask you something, okay? I need to make sure you’re still comfortable and enjoying this. Need to know what makes you feel good. Think you can do that for me?” He grinned as Diluc nodded his head. “Good boy,” he whispered, planting another soft kiss to Diluc’s lips before making his way down his chest again.

Ajax blew on one of Diluc’s nipples softly, enjoying the way Diluc shivered in response. He took the bud lightly between his teeth before closing his lips around it. Diluc let out a soft moan at the feeling of Ajax’s tongue, his hand flying up to rest on the Harbinger’s shoulder. Ajax pulled back enough to purr, “Now let me ask you again. Does that feel good? Do you like getting your nipples played with?”

Ajax smirked to himself when Diluc nodded his head again, before whimpering out an answer. “Y-yeah... yes, it- fuck- it feels good.” Ajax switched his attention to the man’s other nipple, almost getting thrown off his body from how hard his chest was heaving.

Diluc let out another curse. Ajax pulled his mouth back to watch his hands move across the pale skin. His hands came to rest, cupping under the pectoral muscles and pushing them up and together. “Gods, I fucking love your chest,” Ajax breathed to himself; he knew Diluc could hear him from the way his breath hitched in his throat. “Just like a pair of tits,” he mused, squishing the muscles together. He smirked at the way Diluc’s breath was punched from his gut. “So fucking hot...”

Ajax looked up to see that Diluc’s mouth was opening and closing, as if he was trying to say something. “Yes, baby?” he asked, his hands stilling. “Did you want something?”

Diluc nodded, tugging slightly at the material of Ajax’s shirt. “O-off. Please... a-at least the gloves, fuck, please.”

Ajax was now positive he would not survive the night.He couldn’t believe this was Diluc’s first time, not with the way he begged so pretty. He didn’t even need to tell the other to say please. Perhaps he was a natural-born pleaser, Ajax thought to himself.

He snapped his attention back to Diluc when the other tugged at his clothes once more. “Oh, such a good boy, telling me what you want. So polite, too,” he cooed at Diluc. He hummed in consideration for a moment before an idea came to him. He regretfully removed one of his hands from Diluc’s chest, bringing it up to Diluc’s face, the fingertips of his gloves a hairbreadth away from Diluc’s shiny lips. “Would you be so kind as to help me with the gloves, hm?”

Ajax watched in twisted delight as Diluc slowly took the fabric of the middle finger of his glove between his teeth. He pulled his hand back a bit, happy to see Diluc rear his head back, the glove sliding off Ajax’s hand with ease. “Good,” he whispered to himself, taking the glove from Diluc’s mouth. He brought his other hand up, and Diluc helped him out of that glove as well.

Ajax tossed his gloves to the side carelessly, too excited to finally feel Diluc’s skin with his bare hands. He trailed his hands slowly from Diluc’s jaw down his neck, heat pooling in him as Diluc tilted his head further back to allow him more room. He trailed his hands down the other’s chest, feeling his pounding heartbeat, then further down, watching his abs twitch at the featherlight touches.

His hands ended up cupped around Diluc’s pecs once again. His hands massaged the muscle there as he mouthed at the skin. When he heard Diluc let out a pleased sigh, he bit down, gnawing at the muscle between his teeth. The sudden bite caused Diluc to gasp sharply, his eyes flying open to see Ajax’s mouth on his chest. Ajax released the muscle, giving the aggravated area a few licks and kisses to soothe the sting before he smirked up at Diluc. “Do you like me marking up your gorgeous tits? They’re gonna bruise so pretty...” he trailed off, moving to leave a similar bite mark on the other side of Diluc’s chest, a punched out “fuck-“ leaving Diluc’s lips at the sting.

Ajax was mouthing at the newest bite mark when he raised a questioning eyebrow at Diluc. Diluc gulped. “Yes...” he breathed out softly, hoping Ajax could hear him. “Hurts but... f-feels good. P-please don’t st-stop,” he whimpered, moving his free hand to Ajax’s hair in an attempt to keep him in place.

Ajax groaned into the skin of Diluc’s chest, “Gods, you’re such a good boy for me.” He made note of how Diluc’s hips bucked up at that, and filed the thought away for later.

Ajax spent the next few minutes leaving harsh bites all over Diluc’s chest, soothing the mark with kisses each time. Diluc felt as if he was on cloud nine, the deep sting from the initial bite sending electricity up his spine, only for heat to curl in his gut at the kisses left there afterwards. However, he was getting a bit impatient. His dick was rock hard in his pants, and he could feel a wet patch beginning to grow in his boxers. Diluc wanted to get his pants off. Actually, Diluc revised his own thoughts, he wanted to get Ajax out of his clothes even more, the Fatui man not even having shed his shirt yet.

Diluc tightened his hold in Ajax’s hair just slightly, tugging on his shirt with his other hand. “Off... plea- hng- please. W-wanna... wanna see- oh fuck- you too,” Diluc panted out, pleased that he could even get out coherent words at that point.

Ajax would never get tired of hearing Diluc beg. He breathed out a shaky, “Fuck... okay,” before he pulled back enough to tear his shirt off, throwing it who knows where. He could see Diluc eyeing him appreciatively, but didn’t give him much time to enjoy the view before he was kissing the other man senseless.

Diluc groaned into Ajax’s mouth, his hands sliding down the man’s back, finally attaining the skin-on-skin contact he didn’t know he craved. He let his hands wander and feel to make up for what his eyes weren’t able to see. From his exploration, he could tell that the other was covered in scars, both old and new, as well as the fact that he was much stronger than he appeared, corded muscles tense beneath his skin.

Diluc was slightly amused by the fact that Ajax’s hands returned to his chest almost immediately. It made Diluc feel... almost confident, the fact that Ajax seemed to like it so much. So, he arched his back, pushing his chest further into those incessant hands.

“Fuck,” Ajax breathed harshly into Diluc’s mouth. His hands squeezed around the muscles. “So fucking hot,” he panted out, moving to mouth at the other’s jaw. “Bet if I squeezed ‘em together, I could get my dick in between and fuck your tits,” he rambled, words spilling from his mouth before he could really even think about it.

Diluc absolutely keened at that, his head thrown back as a high whine escaped his throat. His reaction only spurred Ajax on. “Yeah? Would you like that baby? Want me to fuck your tits?” he mumbled into Diluc’s skin, the idea almost sending him into a frenzy. Diluc was faring no better. His eyes were pinched shut, pushing his chest out even further, a constant stream of “yes, yes, yes” falling from his lips.

It was only when Diluc desperately ground his hips up into Ajax’s that the Harbinger remembered his main goal for the night. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “Maybe later, baby,” he said, chuckling at the small pout Diluc gave him in response. “Definitely later,” he revised, happy to see Diluc perk up at that too. “For now, though,” he trailed his hands down Diluc’s chest, over his abs, and toying with the waistband of his pants. “Let's get you out of these, shall we?”

Diluc was all too eager to lift his hips to help Ajax undress him, any shyness at being bared being overshadowed by his desire. Ajax tossed his pants to the side, eyeing the large bulge in his boxers with a hungry gaze. Diluc let out a breathy whine as Ajax palmed him, finally giving his cock attention. He cursed when Ajax lowered his head to mouth at him through the fabric, hot breath and saliva dampening the material even further. Ajax hummed against his length, breathing out, “Gods, how are you even real?” as his hands slid up Diluc’s thighs.

Diluc cried out as Ajax dug his fingers into the meat of Diluc’s thighs, causing the Harbinger to groan. “Fuck, baby, your thighs,” he whispered reverently against Diluc’s length, feeling it twitch beneath the fabric. He trailed his mouth down to suck a mark into the flesh of the redhead’s inner thigh. “Can I mark ‘em up? Bruise ‘em all nice and pretty to match your tits? Mark ‘em as mine?” Ajax purred.

Diluc sucked in a wet, heaving breath. “Yes, please- oh fuck,” he panted out. He let one of his hands trail to his own chest, pressing his finger into one of the dark red marks that will surely bruise later. “Can you... can you- ah! B-bite? Fuck, please?” Diluc begged, craving the sting of Ajax’s teeth again.

Ajax groaned, reaching a hand down to adjust himself in his pants. “‘Course, baby,” he whispered. He returned his hand, using it to pull Diluc’s boxers off. Diluc squirmed at being fully bare, but Ajax just pressed a sweet kiss to his shaft, his hand wrapped around the base. He let himself begin to ramble as he slowly stroked Diluc’s cock. “Gonna mark up these perfect thighs. Gods, you’re gonna be so bruised tomorrow, you’ll look so gorgeous. Gonna mark you up so everyone knows you’re mine.”

Diluc couldn’t stop the near constant stream of moans and whimpers from leaving his lips. The feeling of Ajax’s hand finally on his dick is heavenly, and the man’s whispered words only add fuel to the fire in his gut. He lets out a sharp cry as Ajax’s teeth sink into the meat of his inner thigh, the noise turning into a low groan as Ajax soothes the sting with his tongue.

Ajax only removed his head from between Diluc’s thighs once he was satisfied that the redhead was as marked up as possible. He really hoped Diluc wouldn’t kick him out once they were done, he wanted to see how well all his marks turned into bruises for himself in the morning. He pulled his mouth away from Diluc’s thighs, stroking a finger over the bite-mark covered skin reverently. “These are gonna look so good, baby,” he murmured. “Can’t wait to see you covered in my bruises.”

Diluc whined, his hips jumping as the pace of Ajax’s hand on his cock had slowed significantly. Ajax must have noticed, because he was soon licking small stripes up the entire length. Small cries and high pitched whimpers were ripped from Diluc’s throat. He turned his head to the side, knowing that the sight of Ajax between his thighs with his mouth on his cock could probably make him cum.

Ajax trailed his lips up the shaft, planting a sloppy kiss right at the tip. “Love this fucking cock,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. He grinned at the moan Diluc let out. “Want me to suck it? Bet you taste so good,” he rambled, eyes eager to see Diluc’s reaction. “I can usually swallow everything, but you’re so big I might just choke on it.” He delighted in the hitch in Diluc’s breath, the way his hips jumped. “I’d love it though, choking on it. I’d let you gag me with it, ‘til I can’t breathe.”

He grinned evilly as Diluc let out a loud whine. “But maybe later.” With that, he sat up completely, leaving only his hand wrapped loosely around the base of Diluc’s length. He chuckled as Diluc balked at him, having had all the pleasurable sensations ripped away. “Sorry baby, but I gotta ask: do you want to top or bottom?” Ajax desperately wanted to fuck the other man, but since it was his first time, he figured he would let the redhead make the decision.

Diluc flushed, averting his eyes. “Oh, I, um, uh... w-want you to... to, um, f-fuck me,” he stammered out before blearing his throat. “Please.”

Ajax wanted so badly to hop on board with that and absolutely destroy the other man, but he felt it was only fair to give him a warning. “Are you sure, baby? It might hurt a bit,” he said cautiously.

Diluc took a deep breath, steeling himself. “Yes, I’m sure. And I- I... I trust you,” he finished quietly.

Ajax smiled, swooping down to press a soft kiss to Diluc’s forehead. “Alright. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.” He planted a final kiss on the tip of Diluc’s nose, watching it scrunch up adorably. He patted the man lightly on the hip. “Turn over onto your stomach for me, baby. Also, lube?”

Diluc’s eyes widened a bit, heat rising to his cheeks before he complied, nodding his head toward the nightstand. As he was turning, he heard Ajax rummaging around through the drawer before closing it and tossing the bottle onto the bed next to him. Ajax grabbed a pillow from the headboard and placed it under his hips, making him flush further at the thought of his ass being put on display. Once he was settled, he grabbed a pillow to hug to his chest, giving himself something to keep his hand occupied with. He heard Ajax chuckle behind him, turning his head to look at the man questioningly, only to hear, “Of course you have a perfect ass as well,” spilling from the Harbinger’s lips.

Diluc jumped slightly when Ajax grabbed his ass without ceremony, a handful of cheek in each. He relaxed once again when Ajax began massaging his ass, kneading the flesh in his hands. He let out a soft hum, content. He didn’t even notice that Ajax had pulled his cheeks apart until he felt a thumb softly run over his hole. He jolted in surprise, making Ajax pull away, a worried look in his eyes. Diluc turned his head to the side, but wouldn’t make eye contact. “Sorry, sorry” he breathed out. “Just... surprised me. Keep going. Please,” he finished weakly.

Ajax wasn’t entirely convinced. “You sure?” he asked, not wanting to cause Diluc any discomfort. Diluc nodded his head eagerly where it lay on the pillow, and Ajax let out a bated breath. He put his hands back on Diluc’s ass, comforted by the way Diluc seemed to immediately relax into the touch. “Have you ever had anything in you before?” he asked quietly.

Diluc turned to hide more of his face into his pillow. “Mmfnhfnggrz” was the muffled response. Ajax could guess as to what was said, but he really wanted to hear Diluc say it himself. He continued to massage Diluc’s asscheeks, thumbs occasionally brushing the skin closer to his crack, but never getting any closer to his hole. “Hm, what was that baby? I couldn’t understand you.”

Ajax grinned as Diluc turned his head to face him more, his face almost as red as his hair, his eyes looking anywhere but at the Harbinger. “I- I’ve used, um... my- my fingers before,” he whispered.

Ajax’s grin morphed into a soft smile, encouraging Diluc to continue. “Mhmm. And how did it feel baby?” He tutted when Diluc buried his head in his pillow again, groaning in shame. “Hey, nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. I’m just trying to get more familiar with what your comfort level is. Like I said, I’m gonna make this good for you,” he explained, leaving a trail of soft kisses up Diluc’s spine.

Diluc turned his head to the side once again, his eyes pinching shut. “It felt...” he began, trailing off as he thought about the answer. “Fine,” he answered decisively. “Felt... felt full, it- it was good,” he sighed, the memory of his own fingers inside him fresh in his mind. “But it, uh, w-wasn’t enough to...” he trailed off, hoping Ajax would understand what he meant.

Ajax’s mind was reeling, head filled with thoughts and visions of Diluc desperately trying to fuck himself on his fingers, only to cry out in frustration when he can’t hit that perfect spot inside him. If he could ever get Diluc into bed with him again, he would need to make the redhead ringer himself open for him; Ajax was sure it would be an excellent show.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Diluc’s hips twitched a bit, pushing his ass back into Ajax’s hands. He planted one final kiss to Diluc’s shoulder before sitting up once again. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good you’ll see stars,” he chuckled breathlessly, watching as Diluc minutely thrusted into the pillow beneath his hips.

Diluc startled at the snap of the lube cap opening, relaxing again as Ajax pressed a comforting kiss on one of his cheeks. He inhaled sharply as Ajax’s thumbs spread his cheeks apart once more. “Gods, I’d love to eat you out one day,” he heard the Harbinger mumble into his skin, his hips thrusting against the pillow weakly at the thought. Ajax must’ve noticed, for he continued, “Would you like that, baby? Would you let me eat your ass?” As he said it, one of his hands disappeared, only to return moments later, spreading warmed lube across Diluc’s entrance with a thumb.

Diluc’s breath caught in his throat at the familiar feeling of the substance. What wasn’t familiar, however, was the feeling of someone’s else’s hands doing the work. They had barely even started, but Diluc already decided that he liked this much better than doing it himself.

The redhead’s breath escaped him in a shaky exhale as Ajax pushed just the tip of his thumb in, the rim fluttering around the intrusion. Ajax was keeping a keen eye out for any signs of discomfort from Diluc; when he found none, he slowly edged his thumb further in, up to the first knuckle. Diluc let out a quiet moan, his hips pushing back when Ajax stilled. Encouraged, Ajax continued.

He twisted his thumb around a bit, feelings Diluc’s walls stretch around him. He pulled his thumb this way and that, stretching the rim a bit further. Diluc was humming softly, quiet moans falling from his lips every so often. Ajax removed his thumb, smiling at the whine that escaped Diluc’s throat from the loss. He shushed the redhead quietly, leaving soft kisses along his thighs.

Ajax slid his index finger into Diluc, meeting little resistance. He reveled in the moan the man let loose, his volume having increased ever so slightly. He slid his finger in to the base, Diluc’s shoulders tensing a bit. “Doing okay?” Ajax asked softly, stilling his hand.

“Yeah,” Diluc gasped out. “Keep going.”

Ajax nodded softly, despite the fact that Diluc couldn’t actually see him. He slowly pulled his finger out until only the tip remained inside, and was just as slow in pushing it back in. Ajax was doing his best to go slow, despite his desire to just ram into the man below him, but the groan Diluc let out and the way his hips pushed back into his finger were really testing his restraint.

“So fucking good,” Ajax mumbled. He curled his finger a bit inside Diluc, the man letting out a whine. He removed his finger, two returning to Diluc’s hole before the redhead could even protest the loss. He slid his fingers in slowly, two being more of a stretch, pleased when Diluc only pushed his hips back further. “Take my fingers so well,” he murmured reverently. He paused as his fingers met some resistance around his knuckles, pulling them back only to push back in, loosening Diluc’s rim more.

Ajax slowly fucked his two fingers in and out of Diluc’s hole, the redhead letting out wet, panting breaths into the pillow he had clutched to his chest. After a short bit of time doing this, Ajax was able to slide both fingers in entirely, letting out a shaky breath at the delicious groan Diluc let out. He stilled, mesmerized by the sight and feeling of Diluc’s rim clenching around the base of his fingers.

Diluc felt his hips twitch involuntarily in impatience. He turned his head to look at the man behind him, his face partially obscured by his own fiery red curls. “M-move... pl- please, more,” he whimpered out, desperate for the feel of Ajax’s fingers stretching him open.

Ajax let out a low groan as he retracted his fingers slowly. He pushed them back in quickly, grinning at the way Diluc’s breath was punched from his gut. He repeated the action, Diluc letting out a low moan this time. He continued this, withdrawing slowly, only to push back in quickly- quickly, but not very rough. At some point, Ajax realized he couldn’t hear Diluc’s noises as well, looking up to find the man biting at his pillow.

Ajax tsked, using his free hand to grab some of Diluc’s hair and pull. A split second after he did it, he thought that he really should’ve been gentler, but the high, unabashed keen that was ripped from Diluc’s throat quelled his worries. He brought his lips down to Diluc’s ear, using the grip in his hair to get Diluc to arch his back just ever so slightly. “Nuh uh, baby. You gotta let me hear those beautiful noises, remember? You need to let me know how good I’m making you feel, hm?” he whispered, grinning dearly when Diluc took in a gulping gasp of air, his head nodding as much as it could with the grip Ajax still had on his hair. “Good boy.” He planted a kiss in Diluc’s hair, rewarding the man by twisting the fingers he still had inside him.

Diluc gasped at the feeling of the fingers inside him twisting, only for them to begin spreading apart, scissoring him open. This was always his favorite part of fingering himself, the feeling of his rim loosening, stretching further. He could never reach very far inside himself, but he did enjoy the feeling of being full. He enjoyed Ajax’s fingers much more than his own, as they were able to fill him as he desired, but they could also reach deep, hitting spots inside Diluc that had never been touched before.

“Feel good?” Ajax asked, snapping Diluc’s attention back to reality. Diluc heard a constant stream of soft whines and deep groans, embarrassed to find that he was the one making those noises. “Love the way you sound,” Ajax murmured, causing Diluc to flush, a sharp gasp leaving his lips as Ajax’s fingers curled inside him. “Yeah, just like that. Gods, so fucking hot.” Ajax slowed his fingers. “Tell me how it feels, baby,” the Harbinger ordered.

“Feels... oh fuck, good, feels so good,” Diluc blurted out, his pride nowhere to be found. “P-please, want- want... ah- want m-more,” he whimpered. “F-feel... mmmn- full, f-fuck. N-need... full, ple- hnngg- please?” Diluc really hoped that Ajax knew what he was begging for, because he sure didn’t know himself. “W-want- FUCK!” He cried out as Ajax curled his fingers just so, pressing against a spot inside him that made him dizzy with pleasure. He almost jackknifed off the bed, but Ajax’s free hand was quick to clamp down on his hip, keeping him firmly in place.

Ajax grinned sharply when he found the redhead’s prostate, his grin only growing at Diluc’s reaction, despite having to hold the man down. He stilled his fingers for a moment, knowing Diluc would need some time to collect himself. “Wh-... what was that?” Diluc asked hoarsely.

Ajax laughed. “That’s your prostate, baby. Really sensitive,” he explained, soothing his thumb over Diluc’s hip as the man was still taking shaky breaths. His grin turned wicked. “I told you I would make you see stars, didn’t I?” He fucked his fingers into Diluc’s hole again at the same angle, basking in the sharp cry that was ripped from Diluc’s throat. “Tell me how good it feels,” he whispered, his fingers continuing their motion.

Diluc had never felt such intense pleasure in his entire life. He felt as if Ajax’s two fingers had fucked the sanity out of him. “So- fuck- so good... yes, fuck, oh gods... m-more, pl- ah- please,” he begged, words spilling from his lips before he could even process what it was that he was even saying. A filthy noise was ripped from Diluc’s throat when Ajax added a third finger, still hitting the same spot inside him. Ajax had been thorough enough that the additional finger didn’t cause any pain, but Diluc reveled in the extra feeling of fullness.

When Ajax switched to keeping his fingers stuffed inside Diluc, fingertips massaging and rubbing circles into that sensitive spot inside him, Diluc’s hips began thrusting. He wasn’t quite sure if he was thrusting back into Ajax’s hands, or forward, rutting his dick into the pillow beneath his hips. All he knew was that he wanted more. As Ajax continued his ministrations with his fingers, Diluc could feel heat pooling in his gut. “Fuck, fuck, gods yes... so- hnngg- so full,” he panted out. “P-please, I’m- ah!- close, fuck, please.”

Ajax’s eyes lit up, hungrily watching Diluc rut between the pillow and his hand. “Yeah? You gonna cum on my fingers? Just from being stuffed full?” he teased sadistically, harshly thrusting his fingers in further for emphasis. He grinned manically, his dick positively leaking in his pants, at the noise Diluc let loose, almost sounding like a sob. Gods, he would love to fuck the redhead to the point of tears. He ground his fingers into Diluc’s prostate insistently. “Be a good boy and cum for me. Cum on my fingers, baby,” he murmured reverently.

Ajax was in awe. There was simply no other word for it. He watched as Diluc rutted into the pillow beneath him, suddenly freezing at his words, body tensed, as he let out a garbled whine high in his throat. The redhead was positively shaking through his orgasm, tremors running through his entire body as Ajax’s fingers worked him through his high. He retracted his fingers carefully once Diluc’s shoulders had finally relaxed again, his body still shaking.

The Harbinger gently coaxed Diluc to roll over onto his back, tossing the soiled pillow off the bed in the process. Ajax fell over top of him, leaving gentle kisses along the skin of his neck. “So wonderful, did so good for me,” he whispered the soothing words. “Perfect, just perfect.”

Diluc worked to open his eyes a fraction from where they were pinched shut, his body still wracked with tremors. “A-aren’t you g-gonna... f-fuck me? Y-you still ha- haven’t...” he trailed off, attempting to weakly gesture toward the rather obvious tent in Ajax’s pants with a shaky hand.

Ajax cooed at him. How sweet of him, he thought to himself. “Oh baby, you don’t need to worry about me.”

Diluc frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. “B-but... w-want you t-to fuck me? P-please?”

Ajax groaned at that. “Baby... you’re still going to be so sensitive,” he explained, trailing his fingers down to Diluc’s hips. The way Diluc’s hips twitched even at the light touch proving his point. “Are you sure?”

Diluc nodded his head eagerly. “Y-yes, please. W-want it. Wanna f-feel, feel you.” He could already feel his dick begin to twitch in interest again, and knew that it certainly wouldn’t take very long for him to get hard again.

Ajax sucked in a breath at that. “Gods, you’re incredible,” he whispered softly before continuing, his voice raised so that Diluc could hear. “Alright, baby, I’ll fuck you. You just have to let me know if it gets to be too much, okay?” When Diluc nodded, Ajax all but ripped his own pants off, eager to finally give his dick some attention.

Diluc was trying to angle his head to get a look at what Ajax had been hiding in his pants the whole night, curiosity taking over him, but the sound of the lube cap snapping open once more jolted him. Ajax hung his head over Diluc’s chest, letting out a soft hiss at his dick finally getting some contact. Diluc felt a sticky hand lightly pat the outside of his thigh. “Can you spread your legs for me, baby?” Ajax asked. Diluc complied, spreading his thighs apart, feeling heat rise to his cheeks as he slipped his eyes closed.

Ajax positioned his hands, one on Diluc’s hip, and the other grabbing the back of his thigh, pushing his knee towards his chest. He internally appreciated the flexibility of the man. He positioned the tip of his cock just outside Diluc’s hole, feeling the rim flutter at the contact. “I’ll go slow, okay?” He whispered into Diluc’s neck.

Diluc nodded, not trusting his voice enough to respond. He gasped sharply as the pressure against his rim increased, letting out a breathy cry as he felt the tip of Ajax’s length breach the ring of muscle. Diluc’s hands flew to Ajax’s shoulders once the Harbinger had gotten the head of his cock inside, nails digging into the flesh there. He could barely hear the deep groan that was ripped from Ajax’s throat over his own pounding heartbeat and gasping breaths.

Ajax had to still once he had gotten the head of his dick inside Diluc, worried he might cum if he pressed any further. Diluc was just so tight, wrapped deliciously around him. After taking a moment to collect himself, Ajax pressed further. It was overwhelming. All the punched out little “ah, ah, ah”s Diluc was letting out, the feeling of nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, the heat wrapped around his length, everything was flooding his senses.

He was about three-quarters of the way in when he was finally met with some resistance, Diluc tensing beneath him. Ajax peppered his face with kisses, stroking soothing thumbs over the skin of his hips and thighs. “Shhh, you’re doing so good, baby, so good,” he whispered. “You’re almost there, Diluc, only a little bit left. Don’t you want to take me? Don’t you want to be a good boy and take all of me?” He began slowly moving his length in and out of Diluc, never pushing any deeper.

Diluc sucked in a heaving breath, his chest trembling slightly. “Y-yeah,” he whispered, face positively burning. “K-keep going. Please.” Diluc let out a whimper when Ajax continued to press forward slowly, the stretch slightly uncomfortable, but eventually turning into a twisted form of pleasure that he couldn’t exactly describe.

Ajax’s head fell to Diluc’s shoulder with a moan when he finally bottomed out, drowning out the small whine from Diluc. “Good job, baby,” he panted out. “That’s everything. Can you feel me stretching you out? Tell me how good it feels,” he asked Diluc, needing to take another moment to compose himself before he came immediately.

“I- It’s a lot,” he rasped out. “S-so big, fuck. F-feel so... mmmn- so full.” He wriggled his hips back, wanting to feel more of the length inside him. He stilled once he felt the grip of Ajax’s hands tighten, the one on his thigh digging into a mark the Harbinger had left there. “Y-you can move,” he whispered, giving Ajax permission to do as he pleased.

Ajax groaned as he moved to mouth at the marks on Diluc’s chest, pleased to see that Diluc’s cock was hard once again. He pulled his hips back at a snail’s pace, until only the tip was left inside. He felt Diluc’s hole clench around him. “Baby, I am not gonna last very long,” he laughed out weakly. With that, he slid back in just as slowly, listening to the symphony of Diluc’s whimpers and whines.

After a few thrusts at such a sluggish pace, Diluc began to squirm. “F-faster... pl- ah- please,” he whispered.

Ajax’s patience was stretched thin. He was going so slow, making sure not to hurt Diluc, when all he wanted to do was ram the man into the mattress. He picked up his pace at Diluc’s plea, still going slower than he would like, but it still felt incredible. He swooped to capture Diluc’s lips in a kiss, swallowing all the gasps, grunts, whines, and moans the man let out at the increase in pace.

Eventually, Ajax’s pace had gradually increased to the point where he could hear his hips slapping against Diluc’s own. He tore himself away from the redhead’s mouth, moving to sit up on his knees in between Diluc’s spread legs, taking in the sight before him.

Diluc looked... wrecked. His chest was flushed a deep red, covered in bite marks, and positively heaving with every breath he took. His thighs, also covered in Ajax’s marks, were quivering in the Harbinger’s hold. And his face- wait, Ajax thought to himself.

His expression was obscured, an arm thrown over his face to cover it. Ajax halted his thrusts, keeping himself buried to the hilt. He ground his hips into Diluc’s slowly, taking in Diluc’s low groan. He let go of the man’s thigh, reaching up to grab Diluc’s wrist, pinning it to the bed above his head. “Let me see you, baby,” he cooed. “Wanna see your pretty little faces.” He let out a deep hum, feeling Diluc clench around him. “Gods, love seeing how wrecked you look. All from my cock.”

Diluc whined high in his throat, partially embarrassed at having Ajax see him in such a debauched state. But if he was being honest, he was feeling so good that he began to forget why he even cared. He nodded absently at what Ajax had said, then suddenly threw his head back as the Harbinger resumed his thrusts.

Ajax sped his hips up, pounding into Diluc now. He moved his hand from Diluc’s hip to wrap around the man’s cock, keeping his other hand where it was pinning Diluc’s arm above his head. Diluc cried out at the contact, his head thrashing about. Ajax angled his hips, aiming to hit that spot inside Diluc that made him see stars. He knew he had hit his target once Diluc let out a sob.

Ajax sped up the hand on the redhead’s cock, feral grin growing as he saw a tear spill from where Diluc’s eyes were pinched shut. “F-fuck, yes. I- I’m cl- mmmn- close. ‘M g-gonna cum, fuck.” Diluc’s cries rang through Ajax’s head as he panted harshly.

“Fuck, so tight. Look at you, crying on my cock,” his thrusts became sporadic as he saw more tears sliding down Diluc’s cheeks. “Open your eyes, baby. Want you to look at me when you cum, make sure you know I’m the one making you feel this good.” He groaned low in his throat when Diluc complied, ruby red eyes opening and locking onto his, hazy and fogged over with pleasure. Ajax watched in awe as more tears spilled over, bottom eyelashes wet and clumped together.

Diluc’s hips bucked into Ajax’s hand, the coil of heat in his gut about to snap. “Fuck,” he whimpered weakly. A sob was ripped from him as he shot his release over Ajax’s hand and across his own stomach, some even reaching his chest. He continued to sob, more tears leaking from his eyes as Ajax continued to stroke him through his high, his cock never stopping it’s thrusting into Diluc’s ass. He thought he could hear Ajax let out something that sounded like a curse, but couldn’t decipher what language it was in.

Ajax continued pounding into Diluc and stroking his dick until the man began to wince and whimper, body wracked in tremors once more. He let go of the man’s cock, spent length flopping into the mess on his stomach. He tore himself from Diluc’s hole; if he hadn’t been about two seconds away from cumming, he would’ve felt bad at the sharp wince he saw from Diluc. However, as it was, his only concern was getting himself off. He crawled his way up Diluc’s body in his knees until he was straddling the man’s ribs. His hand (partially covered in Diluc’s release, Ajax noticed belatedly) flew to his own dick as he began stroking himself desperately.

A filthy groan was ripped from his throat. His hand was flying in his cock, Diluc’s cum making the slide wet and slick. He pitched forward, breath knocked out of him as he saw Diluc’s eyes squint open blearily. His eyes darted to where he was stroking himself, only to notice that beneath his dick (which was an angry red) was Diluc’s chest, marked up with forming bruises and bite marks, a few streaks of pearly white completing the masterpiece.

“Can I- ah- cum on your chest, baby? Get it all messy? All over those pretty marks?” he panted, hoping Diluc would give him permission because he was going to cum within the next ten seconds. He gasped sharply as Diluc nodded, dazed. “Fuck,” he bit out aggressively. “Gonna cum on your pretty tits, baby.” With that, he came, shooting ropes of cum over Diluc’s chest exactly as promised. He took wheezing, gasping breaths of air in as he continued to stroke himself, riding out his high.

Diluc let his eyes slip shut, letting out a content hum as his chest was covered. Ajax hunched over him, dropping his head so that their foreheads were touching. “You did... so good, baby,” Ajax panted out, Diluc preening at the words. Once Ajax released Diluc’s hand that he had pinned to the mattress, Diluc slowly moved it to Ajax’s hair, bringing the man down for a kiss.

It was a rather pathetic kiss, more just panting into each other’s mouths. But it felt oh so intimate, just holding each other close after they both reached their highs, hands softly caressing any skin they could reach.

Ajax fluttered around Diluc’s face, leaving kisses on his skin and whispering praises between each brush of lips. “Such a good boy.” A kiss to Diluc’s temple. “So wonderful.” A kiss to his cheek. “Just beautiful.” A kiss to his forehead. “So perfect for me.” A kiss to his lips.

Ajax took a deep breath, resolving himself to finally sitting up and pulling away from Diluc. He clambered off of the man, eyes darting around the room in hopes to find his (or Diluc’s, honestly) boxers somewhere on the floor. Once he spotted them, he rolled off the bed and snatched them up. As he was pulling them up his legs, he noticed Diluc watching him with a small frown, eyes questioning.

“W- ... what are you doing?” he asked softly, his voice weak. Ajax delighted in hearing how hoarse his voice sounded, the way the words came out slightly raspy.

He finished pulling his boxers on, turning to Diluc with a soft smile. “Gotta get us cleaned up, baby. Bathroom is this way?” he asked, pointing to a door which he assumed led to the bathroom. At Diluc’s small nod, he went in. He couldn’t take in how impressive the bathroom was or how organized Diluc kept his things, too focused on trying to find a washcloth or a towel. After digging through some drawers, he finally found some washcloths. He used one to quickly clean himself up. Grabbing another one, he ran the cloth under warm water, soaking the fabric and wringing it out to make it damp, but not dripping.

He returned to the bedroom, washcloth in hand, to find Diluc slightly more alert, but still pretty out of it. He crawled onto the bed next to Diluc, slowly wiping up the mess on his stomach. As Ajax moved the cloth up to clean his chest, Diluc’s head fell to rest on his shoulder. He planted a kiss to the crown of Diluc’s head once he deemed the man clean. “Do you want some fresh clothes to put on, baby?” he asked in a whisper, not wanting to shock Diluc out of his relaxed state.

Diluc hummed in agreement. “Boxers... Top drawer,” he muttered softly, nodding his head towards a dresser by his closet. He felt immediately cold as soon as Ajax left his side again. He shivered slightly, watching the man rummage through the drawer he pointed out, coming back with a new pair of simple black boxers. Diluc felt his cheeks heat up as Ajax dressed him, pressing kisses to the skin of his legs as he dragged the fabric up.

Diluc sighed in content, happy to have Ajax next to him again. They stayed like that for a while, Diluc’s head resting on Ajax’s chest. Ajax was drawing small patterns into his biceps from where the Harbinger had his arms wrapped around him. They stayed like that until Diluc began to get drowsy, his breaths evening out and his eyes slipping shut. He was sleepy enough that he almost didn’t notice as Ajax slowly removed himself from beneath him, only noticing once he was completely off the bed. His eyes blinked open blearily, seeing Ajax tiptoe around his room in search of his clothes.

“Where are you going?” he asked sleepily, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Ajax froze, the sound of Diluc’s voice startling him. He turned to the man. “I, uh, gotta grab my clothes. I, um, I figured you’d want me to leave, but I can’t exactly go without-“ he cut himself off as Diluc shook his head, then uttered the one word he had been hoping to hear all night.

“Stay.”

#genshin #genshin imapct #childe #diluc #tartaglia #diluc ragnvindr #genshin childe #genshin diluc #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #childe smut #diluc smut #tartaglia smut #childe x diluc #diluc x childe #chiluc #chiluc smut

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theleftovertaco · 3 years ago

Text

Petty Rivalry- Fred Weasley x Reader

I got an ask maybe 4 months ago asking me to write a fic where reader and fred are rivals and then they fuck but life's a bitch so I'm just getting to it now. Here u go lol. Made some changes so now the reader is a gryffindor chaser tho.

Warnings: smut, sub!fred, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kiddos)

"Weasley, you cunt!"

"Hey!"

"Not you, George. Sorry!" You shouted above the whooshing noises of the brooms around you. Fred zoomed past you.

"Not my fault you were in the way of a bludger!"

"It literally is your fault! Your job as a beater is to keep us safe, dipshit!"

"Oi! You two. Get your shit together before we lose!" Angelina shouted as she flew past.

You set one more glare Fred's way before flying off. Between bickering, dodging, and passing, Ravenclaw was catching up and close to winning as both seekers raced around the pitch in search for the Golden snitch.

As Potter seemed to spot the small golden ball, he flew past the two of you, and within a few minutes, the game was over.

Angelina pulled you aside after your team had celebrated, shoving a finger in your face.

“You and Fred need to get it together. If you kept arguing you could have distracted the other players and cost us our win.”

You rolled your eyes and batted her hand away.

"He's the one whos always being difficult, not me!"

Angelina scoffed, "You're both arseholes to each other. Get over yourselves. Either learn to cooperate or I'll be looking for a replacement chaser and beater." She turned away and walked off, you trailing frantically behind her.

"Ange!"

"Look," she turned back, "I love you both, but quidditch is important to me, and it could help me get an internship with the Montrose Magpies, I need to secure a win, or at least a well run team."

You paused for a second, then nodded.

"Yeah, alright, I'll talk to him later today after our celebration in the common room."

Angelina seemed to relax at that, clapping you on the shoulder than walking off to join the rest of the team.

You sighed, and made your way to Gryffindor common room.

..........................

Gryffindor's common room raged about with laughter, as food and shots of firewhiskey were shared (no one asked where that came from).

You took a deep breath, and walked quickly over to where Fred was standing.

"Hey."

He glanced over at you in distrust. "Hello?"

"How are you?"

"Fine, why?"

"No reason."

"Great."

"What's great?"

"You can leave me alone now is what's great."

You rolled your eyes.

"Look, Weasley, I was trying to be nice. Work things out so we could both stay on the team together."

"We wouldn't have anything to work out if you would get your head out of your arse for five minutes during our matches."

"Me? You're the one who keeps aiming bludgers at my head, you know you're supposed to aim them away, right? Or at least towards the other team, not someone on your own."

"They wouldn't nearly hit you if you weren't in the way!"

You barked out a laugh, "That's bullshit, I am perfectly fine with my job, or I would be if you weren't out to get me all the damn time!"

By this point, you were both attracting some attention, and Angelina dragged you away while Katie did the same with Fred.

"Both of you, knock it off."

You whipped your head around to look at her, "But I tried to make amends like you said, I even-"

"Leave it alone, plus, there's an issue in the main hallway we need you to come look at."

"Why do you need me?"

Angelina just dragged you further along.

"Ange, what kind of damn issue is so important that, aaGH-" You exclaimed as you were shoved into a closet, and a very tall figure.

"Who the fuck- ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME ANGE!" You saw Fred's equally pissed off face in the dim light hanging from the top of the closet.

"You two work your shit out, we aren't letting you out until you do."

Fred yelled out in frustration, banging on the door.

"KATIE, ANGIE, LET US OUT RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"

There was only light giggling in response, and you knew there was no way you were leaving that broom closet any time soon.

You spent the next ten minutes pacing the room, trying to find a way out of the closet.

"Can you stop pacing for five seconds? It's driving me insane."

"I wouldn't have to if you hadn't gotten us locked up in here in the first place!"

"How did I get us here? Last I checked we both hated each other, so they wanted us both in here!"

"I was trying to be nice to you back there! To make amends!"

Fred threw his hands in the air.

"Well look where that got the both of us."

You stood face to face with him, eyes locking.

"Why do you hate me so much?" You asked him.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

You scoffed, "You can't just answer a question with the exact same question."

"Like hell I can. And you never answered!"

"Because I asked you first! I mean I just don't understand why it's so hard for you to just not be a dick." You turned your back and resumed your pacing.

"Y/N, it's not that, it's just-"

"Just what, because I am sick and tired of you acting as if I am the worst thing to ever happen to you, why do you hate me so goddamn much, I mean-"

"I DON'T HATE YOU DAMMIT! I LOVE YOU!"

You paused for a second, and turned back.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I've been attracted to you since second year!"

You took a second to process this information.

"So why are you such an arsehole then? For the past 5 years you have been!”

You rolled you eyes.

“Nope. Absolutely not. Liking me was not an excuse to be a dick. And don’t try some ‘I didn’t know how to express my feelings’ bullshit!”

Fred looked at you shocked.

“But… I told you that I liked you. And now I’m getting the feeling you might like me.”

“Thats… besides the point, and even if I did, that still doesn’t excuse you from being a dick, I only responded to you in the same way you always treated me!”

“Right, and I’m sorry for that, Y/N. Please allow me to make it up to you.”

Fred held you face in his hands, and you fought an instinct to jerk away.

“How the hell do you plan on making up for five years of assholery?”

Suddenly you were shoved back into the wall. Fred dropped to his knees, unbuckling your jeans.

“Please, let me make it up to you.”

He dragged your jeans down.

“Fred, what are you doing!?”

“Say the word, and I’ll stop. Please, let me make it up to you.”

Fred looked up at you with wide eyes, and you paused for a moment before nodding. He resumed, pulling you underwear past your legs, and lifted up one of your legs before diving into you.

“Fred, I- fuck!”

He dragged his tongue along your folds and nosed at your clit.

“Want you. Want your cunt, your lips, your body, please.”

You carded your fingers through his hair, dragging him closer to you.

“Fuck, want you too.”

Fred continued until you pulled him back up by his hair to meet you. You hastily unbuckled his belt and undid his trousers to take out his cock. Spitting in your hand, you ran your hand up and down his dick, causing him to let out a series of curses and moans.

He lifted you up by your thighs, and you placed his cock at your entrance, and Fred let out a whine as he pushed in.

“Fuck, love, you feel good.” He readjusted you in his arms and began fucking up into you, his thrusts making him hit that spot inside you.

“Fuck, Fred!”

The two of you continued for what seemed like forever until Fred hooked an arm under your leg and his hand wrapped around you so he could play with your clit.

“Fred, I’m gonna come.”

“I am too, love.” You felt your orgasm arrive and as you did you clenched down on his cock, causing him to release inside of you.

A few moments passed before he set you down, both of you breathing heavily.

“Your partially forgiven.”

“Partially? I just fucked your brains out, how am I partially forgiven?”

You let out a giggle.

“You take me out on a date, and I’ll consider you forgiven.”

Fred brought you into his arms, and laid a kiss on the top of your head.

“Deal.”

A moment passed, and after you both were dressed and had collected yourselves, you banged on the door to be let out.

“Angie? Kate, we’ve resolved our issues, you can let us out now!”

They opened the door, and as you both left you could hear them snickering.

Angelina shouted out from behind you, “Yeah, we heard you both resolving your issues from the other side of the door.”

Fred threw his head back half in laughter and half in exasperation while you stood there, red faced with your head in your hands.

“Next time, maybe resolve your issues in a bedroom?” Katie practically howled out.

“Shove off, Bell!”

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #sub!fred #fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley smut

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locker42 · 3 years ago

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Hello how are you today? Can we please have a part two to knock. Could damon suspect that the reader was compelled

Knock P. 2.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, murder, blood.

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x human!reader.

Word count: 969.

I know it’s quite shitty and I’m so sorry for not being around and posting. But I’m back now and die expect some more rice.

Masterlist.

“Check again.” You said, leaning your elbows on your knees as you tired to clear your head.

“I don’t need to, it’s all gone. There’s no vervain.” Damon said as he walked over to the couch, sitting down next to you. It’s been almost three hours since every happened and you still couldn’t figure out what exactly happened. Damon helped you go get rid of the body - the same one you were allegedly responsible of. It didn’t make sense, any of it. The man’s throat was slashed yet you had no knife in your hand but a baseball bat. However, one knife from the kitchen was gone. This all left you and Damon wondering what the hell happened.

“There’s no way it’s all gone, I drank a cup of it this morning. Did you check in the cabinet?”

“Y/N,” he said and placed his hand on your shoulder, “I checked twice, there is no sign of vervain in this house.”

“Then how the fuck was his throat slashed?” You asked, your voice panicked. “I was holding a baseball bat, Damon, not a knife. I didn’t kill him.

“You don’t think you killed him. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t.” He said, focusing his eyes on where the body was lying.

“You think someone compelled me?” You asked, silently begging for him to turn his gaze to you. You needed his reassurance, because there’s no possible explanation for any of the last events and you didn’t want the thought of liking that person running through your head.

“It is possible. I mean, maybe you were compelled before.” He said slowly, turning his gaze back to you.

“This doesn’t make sense.” You said, shaking your head.

“The knife is gone, Y/N. And the bat you claimed you knocked him out with is in your closet, no trace of blood on it.”

You stayed quiet, the paranoia and anxiety clouding your mind. What if you didn’t kill him but just didn’t remember it? What if you did things in the past? Things like this?

“Hey,” Damon’s voice broke you from your trance, “look at me.” He said and lifted his hand to your cheek. You looked up and saw his beautiful blue eyes staring back at you. “It’s okay. I promise you, it’s going to be okay. All we have to do is figure out who compelled you.” He opened his mouth to add to his sentence but stopped, looking away from you.

“What?” You asked, putting you hand on top of his. “What is it?”

“Ca-“ he sighed, taking a deep breath before speaking up again. “Can I compel you? Just ask you what you did?”

“You think that will help?” You asked sceptically.

“Well, yes. You were compelled to forget but you can also be compelled to remember.”

“Fine, okay.” You said, making him frown his eyebrows.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Do it. I trust you.”

“Okay.” He nodded and inched closer to you, staring into your eyes. He made you nervous at times - especially when he was thing close to you - and in any other situation you would back away slightly to hide away from his intense gaze, but not now. You had to figure out what in the hell happened to you. “You’re going to tell me everything that happened last night - everything that you did and everything you saw and heard.”

“Someone came to my house last night and I tried to fight him but it was no use, he was a vampire. He told me that he had a hunter following him and he needed me to kill him. I didn’t know him or the hunter. He then told me to go to sleep. The next thing I woke up to was the noise from the living room. I got up and went to the kitchen to grab a knife. I stabbed him in his thigh before slashing his throat. I threw the knife on the woods before you showed up.”

Your mouth gaped open and your eyes widened. You felt like someone was talking for you, that the words you had just said weren’t yours but someone else’s. You looked at Damon, his eyes were focused on the wall behind you and his eyebrows slightly frowned.

“Damon?” You asked hesitantly. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I know who compelled you.” He said, turning his eyes back to yours. “Enzo. He’s back in town. And he knows you and where you live, you have to come with me to the boarding house, you can’t stay here. Not when he knows where you live.”

“What do you mean? Who is Enzo?” You asked him, standing up as he started walking to the door.

“Look, I did some shitty things in the past and now they’re catching up to me. You need to pack up a bag and then we leave. Go, now.” He said and pointed towards the door of your bedroom. You decided not to argue or ask anymore questions and quickly walked to your bedroom. You packed up a duffel bag as quickly as you could before joining Damon back in the living room.

“I’m ready, let’s go.” You said quietly. He noticed you tone and your unfocused eyes and walked closer to you, placing his hands on your cheeks. “Hey, look at me.”

Your eyes met his. “I know this is stressing, and I know you’re scared but I’m here and I will protect you and keep you safe, I promise. Okay?”

You nodded, a small smile on your lips for Insurance. He leaned in and placed a kiss on your forehead before stepping back, letting you walk to the door. You took a deep breath and walked forward, wonder filling your mind but you weren’t scared. Not when you had Damon.

#damon salvatore x y/n #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore imagine #damon imagine #tvd damon #damon salvatore #damon x reader

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writinginthedarkwood · 3 years ago

Text

Werewolf! Kirishimia Eijiro: A New Meaning to Golden Retriever Boyfriend.

Thank you so dearly for this request, it was so much fun to write. Prompt #16 “Not this again.” For the fictober event. If you have a request, please send me an ask I would love to write it.

No warnings, fluffy and cute.

"You've got to be kidding me, not this again." You looked down at your phone, a long paragraph typed up from your boyfriend Eijiro in the same format as last month. An excuse, an apology, canceling tonight's plans, and about two more apologies. Tonight he's claiming stomach issues, but you know the truth. You sigh and check your bank account. If he would just tell the truth you could tell him that it wouldn't be a problem for you to pay for the movie tickets tonight! He makes good money, he must really spend over his budget. He's so chivalrous and sweet, it might insult him to try and pay for things sometimes. You don't mind, if only he'd just open up.

You decide that enough is enough, you're going over there and you're going to put an end to the lying! He's going to let you pay for the date if you have to drag him out by his ears. You throw on the outfit you had planned for your date, cleaned up your hair and head down the street into the night air. Eijiro's house is just outside of city lines in the suburbs. He has a nice end lot with a large field behind it. You're so jealous of his view. You hop on the bus and ride with head phones on, listening to a playlist he made you. The bus can be a little scary at night, but nobody is on here except for you. It's kind of peaceful just listening to music and staring at the full moon. It's large and round face is staring down at you like a caring grandmother.

Another text pops up.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry I disappointed you. I have to get some sleep, I love you baby." You rolled your eyes. It's just past 10pm! You're not letting him sit and sulk in the dark alone all night. You resisted the urge to throw your phone into your bag in frustration. He is such a wonderful boyfriend 99% of the time, but he always seems like he's hiding a part of himself. What is it? A bad childhood? A gambling addiction? Is he secretly apart of the mafia??? The bus halted to a stop and left you outside of his neighborhood, you stomped all the way down the sidewalk to the end of the line of houses and stared at your boyfriends place. The porch light is off, but the lights are on inside. You know where he keeps the hidden spare key and jam it into the lock. You almost kick the door down as you shout for your boyfriend.

He was sitting on the couch, tying his shoe laces. He's putting on hiking boots this late? "Hey! You're awake!" You slam the door behind you and scold your red headed sweet heart. "Babe what are you doing here? It's almost midnight!" His voice is shaking. He nervously looks at the clock on the wall and stands up. "You have to go baby, I'm really embarrassed! My stomach is-" "Stop lying! Your stomach is fine!" You want to raise your voice and yell, but his giant puppy dog eyes are so cute. You jam a finger into his chest and scrunch up your mouth, doing your best to look irritated. "I knew I would get here and see you're not hunched over a puke bucket!" He put both hands on your shoulders and gently rubbed up and down on your arms. He's such a large man, he's practically a wall he's so solid. Yet he always has the sweetest touches, making sure to be so gentle with you. His callused finger tips brushed against your skin and gave you goosebumps.

It took every ounce of restraint in you not to fall right into his arms. "I'm sorry honey, but you really can't stay here tonight. I need you to head back home." He said hardly above a whisper. He kissed your forehead and you shoved his chest with all of your might. He didn't budge, but understood you wanted him away from you so he stepped back. "Oh I'm sorry, is your booty call on the way over and I'm interrupting?" You felt like someone had stabbed you right in the heart. It couldn’t be true, he has never showed any signs of being disloyal. You’re just tired and confused.

Eijiro looked panicked. "Oh god of course not! No, no its not like that I swear!" He swallowed you in his arms pushing your cheek against his pecks and kissing all over the top of your head. "There is nobody other than you, I could never even think of betraying you, you're my soul mate." He said between kisses. You wrapped your arms around him and snuggled in. His warmth overwhelming. "Well then what is it...?" You whined a bit, it's getting later and you want to just fall asleep in his arms. "Are you going to turn into a wolf at midnight?" You chuckled. His hand stopped running through your hair and he stiffened completely. You look up at him puzzled, he's staring down at you with a look of panic. "That's crazy why would you even say that?" He says all too seriously. You nervously laugh. "What's wrong? I was just joking. It's not like I really believe you're about to start howling at the full moon." Eijiro stared off into space, like his brain was loading and he couldn't think of what to say. "Right...?" You cocked an eyebrow at him. "It might be a little bit like that." He scratched his head.

You two sat in the quiet for a little bit. Every time he tried to elaborate he ended up getting caught up in his own words. You two sat awkwardly in his living room until its about 5 minutes til midnight. "I- I'm going to go to the bathroom." He quickly dismissed himself, running to his bedroom and shutting the door. You followed quickly after him. Is he insane? Does he really expect you to just sit out here while he hides pretending to shape shift to get out of movie night? He's obviously having a difficult time, maybe his money troubles make him feel emasculated? You softly tap on his bedroom door and it slips open. The bathroom door is closed shut with the light peaking out under the crack. You walk past his bed and dressers and hear weird scuttling sounds the closer you get. You knock again. "Hey honey, why don't you come out so we can talk about this? It's okay if you didn't want to go out because of money..." You leaned against the door. "It doesn't make you less of a man to let me pay sometimes." He's so wonderful, you don't think there could be any other reason why he can be so flakey.

The sound of shampoo bottles and shaving cream canisters falling to the ground startle you. "Babe are you okay?" You turn the door nob. The door flings open, a large shape tackles you, knocking you to the ground. You let out a large wheeze, the wind escaping your lungs. "What the fu-" Your face was assaulted with a large flat tongue, licking all over you. Slobber flew across the room as a giant red dog panted and whimpered as it gave you kisses. "You're a dog! Oh my god you're a dog!" You pushed your monstrous boyfriend off of you and took a good look at him. He's huge, and even a little scary looking. His fur is bright crimson and his eyes are a daring shade of yellow. But he sat there, panting like a normal dog. You waved in front of his face. "Are you in there babe?" The dog playfully nipped at your finger, trying to pull your hand into his mouth. "Hey! No bites!" You retracted your hand and held it close to your chest. His fangs are giant.

The wolf man got down low to the ground in the stance you've seen puppies do right before they-

He takes off, zooming across the floor and into the living room at full speed. Pictures that lined the hallway crash to the ground. You rush to your feet and chase after him. "Wait!! Down boy! Down!!" You shout. He's already on the couch, gripping a throw pillow between his powerful jaws and shaking it. Cotton stuffing flies across the room, coating the floor. "No! Bad Eijiro! Bad doggy!" You try to wrestle the pillow away from him and fail. He topples over you, knocking you back down onto the floor and taking off across the room again, this time to the kitchen. You tenderly rub your arm, you landed on it weird and it's a little sore. Another crashing sound prompts you to get up onto your feet and run after him. The trash can is toppled over on its side, trash strewn across the floor. His snout was pushing around the garbage, looking for something to swallow. "Are you kidding me? What is with you?" You grab the wolf by the scruff of his neck, and pull him to the other side of the room away from the trash. "You sit!" Eijiro whines and sits down, looking up at you with the saddest eyes. "Oh don't look at me like that. This is not what I thought a werewolf would be like." Eijiro's large head pushed against you, rubbing his face all over your stomach as you pet his head. "You just need to burn some of this energy off."

You can't help but love the silly thing. He is still your boyfriend, even if he is a little different than usual right now. He followed you down the hall, staying right by your side. He takes up most of the space, his large frame almost tipping you off balance with small bumps into your hip. You dug through a pile in his hall closet until you found an old baseball and plastic toy bat. Wow, he really needs to clean up his closet, you think to yourself. "Okay babe, let's go-" He looked up at you with all of the love in the world, hanging on your every word. You crack into a smile. "Let's go outside and play you big goof.

"The two of you trampled through the tall grass behind Eijiro's house, he seemed to use little to no effort at all. His massive paws stomping down the weeds like it's nothing. You decided you were far enough away from the neighbors and took a strong stance. You haven't hit a ball in ages, but this plastic bat is wide and should make it a little easier on you. The baseball flew high into the air, you focused and swung the bat, smacking the ball across the field. Your wolf ran, faster than any animal you had ever seen after the small object, passing it and having to loop around with a terrifying pin point turn. He grabbed the ball off of the ground so quick you barely saw the motion, and in a flash he was back at your feet. You could do nothing but shake your head and laugh. "Are you kidding me? You're amazing!" Eijiro looked pleased, so you scratched his neck fluff.

"Alright let's see if I can hit it a little farther."

Again, and again, and again he chased the ball across the field and back happily dropping the ball at your feet. He only made you wrestle for it once, he could probably keep the ball away from you forever with those intense muscles, but that's not as fun for him. Seeing how pleased you looked when he brought it back was filling the beast with all the pride in the world.

Eventually your arm got tired, and he seemed to have about run out of energy too. He laid down in the field and looked up at the moon. You laid your head on his stomach, the rhythm of his breathing so comforting. You just talked to him, venting about life and how weird things are in the city now. You found yourself thinking about how a simple bus ride was starting to feel too far away from him at this point. "I know you don't really understand me right now, but I really love you. I know we've said it before, but I love you. I think you're my forever person." He was laying on his paws, looking up at the starry sky. "I know you felt like you had to hide this from me, but it doesn't scare me, or weird me out." You talk quietly and close your eyes, snuggling deeper into his fur. "If I have to come throw a ball for you once a month, I'll do it. I've got friends that deal with way worse with their boyfriends." You smirked, thinking you're pretty funny. That'll make Eijiro laugh in the morning, you'll save that for later.

The rising sun burned your eyelids, scaring you awake. You hadn't meant to stay out here for the rest of the night, but it was so late and he was so comfortable. He's much more familiar to you now, he slept peacefully as you rested on his chest. He looks worn out, but the two of you can't stay out there forever. You gently tap his face. He popped one eye open and looked around. "Oh man!" He gasped and looked down at his hands and feet. "I'm so stupid! You could get sick staying outside all night!" He put a hand on your face and cupped your chin. "Are you alright my love?" He asked with the soft voice only you get to hear. "Yeah I'm fine. How are you feeling?" "I feel fine. I'll be a little more hungry today, but it's no big deal." He looked down at the ground with a sheepish smile. "Thanks for staying with me all night." "Aw come on, it's no big deal. You're... a good boy." You teased while ruffling his hair.

"Hey!"

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