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#sorry. i had a Vision and needed to see it through
wandascrush · 2 days
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Runaway Bride
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Summary: There’s only one person you really want on your wedding day
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Weddings, love, crying, running away, lots of angst
Song: Someday I’ll get it by Alek Olsen
You were out of breath by the time you got there, crisp cold air hurting your chest. Your throat was as dry as sandpaper. Natasha was there, waiting for you like she always was. Your legs were tired from running, broken nude heels in your hands, beautiful and forgotten. The white flowy, soft fabric of your dress touched your body delicately, dragging and picking up the color from the wet mossy grass. Sore legs lowered down to sit on the grass next to the girl who once captured your heart…but she was silent. Just you two, alone. The air was so cold it hurt your bones. 
   You rested your head against the large oak tree that sat behind you two, making a little cove under its branches. So many thoughts were racing through your mind, “I’ve ruined everything. What will people think? I have to say sorry.” But once you saw your favorite spot waiting for you, with your favorite girl, everything melted away. You shouldn’t even be here right now, you shouldn’t have been thinking about Natasha, but she was the only person that ran through your mind. 
   “Long time no see, Natty.” 
    You’ve gotten used to her silence though, it kind of became her new character trait these days. Sometimes you pretended it didn’t hurt anymore, but it always did. A little more each time. Rain droplets started to fall around you, wetting every inch of dirt and stone. More green from the grass started to slowly seep into the beautiful white fabric of your dress. You knew her deep gaze was on you, looking at you with pity…maybe with love? 
   Your chest tightened as you blinked hard, vision blurring, “I was supposed to get married today, you know,” a sad laugh escaped your throat as you played with the fabric of your dress, “I looked beautiful. My hair was done and my makeup was perfect and-I was supposed to be happy today,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I was supposed to be standing at that altar, looking into her eyes, promising forever. But I couldn’t even say the words. Because every time I looked at her, I saw you. And I hated myself for it.”
 “I’m so tired of missing you…and funny enough, I thought getting married would make me happier. But all I see is you. When I say my vows, it’s your name they’re written for.”
I think of you all the time, now that you’re gone.
    The rain poured down in relentless sheets, soaking through the dress. The sky above was a swirling mass of dark clouds and angry wind. Digging your manicured fingers into the soft mud, it felt like the only grounding thing. The feeling of mud seeping under your nails was the only anchor you had.
   You checked your phone, trying to wipe the rain off of it and realized that you’d already been there for over an hour with Natasha. You needed to get back, answer all the missed calls and texts. This would be the last time you two saw each other…something inside you was certain about it. Shaky legs stood up, using the big oak tree as support and grabbing the bouquet you forgot about next to you. 
   You slowly kneeled down in front of your first love, first everything, and pressed your forehead against her cold grave stone, “If love could have saved you,” breaths came in short, sharp gasps, salty tears falling into your mouth, “you would have lived forever, my Natasha.” Soft lips kissed the engraving of her name as you gently lied the bouquet down for her, grabbed your broken heels, and said goodbye. It took all your strength to not look back as you walked out of the private cemetery.
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reallychaoticwoo · 3 days
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Hi, babe!!!! I just accidentally hit my head really hard and I need some comfort. So could you please write something for a non idol! Reader with some kind of injury? I’m feeling better now, but I still need something to get me going. Love you💕💕
⛓️Hello babes! So this may have been slightly self-indulgent as your girl is in SERIOUS need of some physical affection lol but i do really hope you enjoy it!⛓️
✨️Peace of mind✨️
❤️Pairing: San x reader
⚠️Warnings: cussing, some suggestiveness🖤
This is truly a fluff fest, and I am absolutely NOT sorry.
‼️This is purely for entertainment purposes and does not represent the idol in any way‼️
🖤This was not proofread, so I apologize for any typos or weird mistakes 😅 Hope you enjoy!🖤
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You didn't plan on injuring yourself today, I mean, does anyone ever really plan on it? You'd been rushing to get your things together, eager to head home and get out of your uncomfortable office attire. Bending down to grab your laptop bag and purse your head collided with the corner of your desk. Your vision blacking out for a quick moment and a sharp pain shooting through your head, you let out a groan. "Fuck.." Your hand finding it's way to your forehead to apply pressure to the aching area. Sitting back in your chair hand still holding your head you heard a knock at the door. "Come in." San opened the door, leaning himself against the frame. "Hey I was just coming to see if you.... shit, are you okay?" The casual stance he had disappeared as he made his way to your desk. Pulling your hand away from your head his eyes widened. "You're bleeding y/n. What happened?" Concern written all over his face, he headed to bookshelf in the corner of your office where the first aid kit was. "I'm okay.." You started looking at your blood covered hand that had been resting on your head. "I was just trying to pack up and I hit my head on the desk when I went to grab my bags." He let out a small chuckle, internally scolding himself for laughing at your clumsiness. "Yup, that sounds like something you'd do." He sat on your desk facing you, pulling your hand into his to wipe away the blood with a small antibacterial wipe he'd gotten from your first aid kit. "So what were you coming in to ask me before you stopped to play nurse?" You asked, nuding his knee with your free hand, a cute little smirk resting on your face.
The two of you had a bit of a back and forth going at the office. Passing flirty winks back and forth in the hallways, randomly showing up at each other's offices with any and every excuse in the book as to why. Neither of you had actually made a move to further things, though. Part of you wondered why, but another part of you figured it was because the both of you knew dating in the workplace, you get really messy really quick. Either way, you always caught yourself wishing things could be more.
"Well, I was going to see if you had plans tonight. But considering you just tried to put yourself into a coma, I don't think now would be the best time for a date." As if it was the most casual sentence in the world, he leaned forward to wipe the blood from your forehead and face, with nothing but a concentrated look painting his own. "I wouldn't say no if you asked." You looked up at him, a glimer of relief and excitement passing through your wide eyes. He chuckled knowingly. "Oh, I know. Don't think I haven't been wanting to ask you out for a while now. I just didn't want things to get weird if I did, but I think it's pretty obvious we'd both like to see where this could go." You giggled at the truth he just admitted so bluntly. There was no arguing that you were dying to see what things would be like if you both just allowed yourselves to be honest with your emotions towards each other.
"So, how about instead of going out like I was originally planning, we stay in and you let me take care of you and that injured little head of yours?" Playfully nudging your chin with his thumb, he looked at you with warmth in his eyes and a shinning smile spreading across his lower face. You couldn't help but return the cheesy grin up in his direction. "That sounds even better, honestly. No loud noises or bright lights. And most importantly, no feeling the need to wear uncomfortable clothes to look pretty." He tsked, a fake pout spread across his features. "You wouldn't want to dress up and go on a nice date with me??" He crossed him, arms feigning disappointment. "Right now? No. I want nothing more than some comfy sweats and to get out of these harsh lights." Your head really was throbbing. As much as his banter improved your mood, your eyes had been squinted the whole time, and you were ready to go anywhere that was quite and dimly lit. His muffled laughter catching your attention, he offered you his hand to help you up. He made sure to grab your bags so you wouldn't have to bend down again and risk another blow to your already aching head. "Okay, okay, princess, my place work for you? I've got plenty of comfy sweats, you can pick whichever ones you want." Walking out of your office, your face resembled that of a high school girl getting a text from her crush. You were smiling, blushing, internally screaming, and giggling. I mean, who wouldn't feel that way when the hottest man to ever grace this planet was taking you home to comfort you and make sure you still got a little date out of it. Honestly, the fact you knew without a doubt he'd have no expectations from you made you weak in the knees. Just a genuinely caring man who wants to make sure you are feeling okay because you hit your head. You weren't sure the exact moment the gods started blessing you, but you were mentally thanking them the entire walk to his car.
The car ride was rather nice. His hand resting on your thigh, the two of you talking about everything and nothing. When you finally reached his house, he quickly opened your door, offering you his hand to help you to your feet. Outside his house was simple but beautiful. He had a wrap around porch with a black metal bench swing, stringed light bulbs lining the edge of the covering, and a sitting area with two large wicker chairs and a small table. His yard was well maintained with beautiful flowers and greenery placed perfectly throughout. You were admiring the simplicity and homey feel as he ushered you up the front steps and through his front door. The inside of his home was equally as inviting, sleek, and modern, with carefully placed decor, highlighting the various spacious rooms. Gesturing you to follow him, the two of you moved to his living room. "Make yourself at home. I'm gonna go grab you some headache meds and water really quick. I'll be right back." You smiled in his direction, nodding at him in a silent thank you. Sitting on the couch, you took a look around the living room. A large marble fireplace in front of you with a large TV mounted to the wall above it. The mantle was decorated with a few vining plants and pictures of who you assumed were his brothers or really close friends. You smiled to yourself at how many goofy and well taken photos he'd proudly displayed. He quickly made his way back to the living room with meds and water in hand. "Here, take these. I'm going to go change really quick, and then you can pick out your pj's for the night." With a warm smile and a gentle kiss to the forehead, he made his way down the hall and to his room.
It was only a few minutes before San was back by your side. "Alright, gorgeous, let's get you into some comfier clothes." He bent down, picking you up bridal style and carrying you to his bedroom before sitting you gently on his bed. Opening his closet, he motioned his hand to the large selection of sweats as if to say 'take your pick'. Your eyes lit up at the grandiose selection, a delighted smile on your face. Picking out a plain black set, he brought the clothing to the bed and laid it down next to you neatly. "You can change in here. I'll wait in the living room. You have any movie requests? I can order some pizza, if that sounds good to you." You chuckled at how considerate he was. If you were being honest you'd expected him to be a total fuck boy. The flirting at the office and his perfectly styled appearance just screamed 'I'll take your chick and fuck her in front of you'. Yet, even if there was some truth to that, he was actually turning out to be a real gentleman. "You pick the movie, I can never make a decision and my head hurts too much to even try right now. And pizza sounds great, thank you." With a quick nod, he was leaving the room to let you change. Alone in his room, sitting on his bed, you felt a sense of home. His bed was plush and comfortable. You had to fight yourself to get up and change, deciding it'd probably be off putting if he found you curled up under his sheets fast asleep when you never came back.
Walking back you to the living room, you stopped at the entryway, smiling to yourself at the sight before you. San had set up the perfect at home date night. A makeshift pallet full of blankets on the floor, several pillows leaning against the couch, candles flickering on the mantle and end tables. Pizza was sitting on the coffee table, which was pushed off to the side, sitting next to one of the end tables. He'd turned the lights off to make sure the brightness wouldn't cause your headache to worsen and had a movie already pulled up and ready. Thanking the gods for the nth time today, you walked into the living room, taking your place beside San. Handing you your plate, he pressed play on the movie before grabbing his own plate. Both eating now, you looked to the screen, a familiar movie playing. A movie you'd watched many times, usually when you were alone and sad, sobbing into your pillow at the when you heard the line "if you're a bird, I'm a bird." You should've guessed by this point he'd be the type of guy to enjoy romantic movies. What you didn't guess was that he picked this movie so he could see how you reacted. He wanted to see what made you laugh, what made you cry, and what made your eyes shine with want. He wanted to get to know you better and more than just small talk and casual flirting.
Finishing your food, he took your plates and set them on the coffee table. He put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, placing an attentive kiss to the top of your head. Leaning into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder, a content smile grew across your face. Although your headache seemed to be dissipating, the events of the day seemed to be catching up with you. Your eyelids growing heavier by the second. Noticing how your body seemed to grow more relaxed, San wrapped his arms around you and carefully moved the two of into a laying position. In the half awake/ half asleep haze, you softly muttered, "This is perfect. Thank you, Sannie." Your eyes never opening, you nuzzled further into him, your head now rest on his chest, your leg laid across his thighs. The soft touch of his fingers running through your hair and the steady beating of his heart lulling you into the most traquil night of sleep you've had in years. A soft kiss to your forehead and then to the top of your head, San allowed himself to succumb to his own tiredness, truly at ease with you in his arms.
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INSIDE THE TOWER OF GOLD
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⚠️ WARNINGS!! ⚠️
mild transformers one spoilers, non-con, drugged sex, mild violence
THIS IS A NON-CON FIC. if you don't like any of the above tags PLEASE just scroll onwards.
once again another messy ficlet or whatever! but I want that mech's pussy destroyed... so... :)
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Sentinel Prime had all he ever wanted. Power. Money. Respect. Fame. Everything he ever dreamed was in the palm of his servo. And he LOVED it. He loved broadcasting himself in front of Iacon and letting all of the other, less important, Cybertronians see his glorious frame. He preened and polished himself constantly, making sure his plating was shiny enough that it was practically a mirror. He was the picture perfect heroic prime, as far as the citizens of Iacon were concerned.
But of course, it wasn't enough for Sentinel. It could never be enough. Which is exactly why he held the most luxurious parties he could. Free from anyone he felt too far beneath him. The best energon money could buy, triple filtered high grade and a pack of Syk. The little patches were arranged delicately on a platter, a warning card placed at the front explaining the effects, HEAVILY encouraging mechs to not take more than one and explaining how to properly use them. Avoid applying patches to the helm or chassis... the usual scrap that was only there to avoid possible lawsuits. Not like anyone would ever dare to try, but better safe than sorry.
The party was going perfectly, as it always did. He already knew he wasn't going to take anything or drink too much, since he was required at the surface tomorrow morning. He mostly just stood around, a small glass of high grade balanced between his digits that he sipped at between conversations with mechs he didn't care to learn the names of.
He'd be lying if he said he didn't jump when a servo suddenly pressed against his back. He bristled, but kept his cool, his derma curled as he forced a smile onto his face. He stayed polite, keeping up the conversation with the mech. Sentinel felt a familiar helmache coming on. His legs started to feel weak, his vision going slightly blurry. He kept up the conversation as well as he could, but his speech was starting to get slurred, his voicebox glitching. Next thing he knew, his vision was spinning and he was collapsing to the floor, the glass in his servo shattering against the floor.
Sentinel's optics slowly started to flicker online, a strange ache and pressure blooming from his crotch. He tried to move his arms, he was completely paralysed. His vision was blurred, his hearing muffled. He reset his optics, and his audials. Once. Twice. The world around him slowly started to gain some clarity. He glanced down between his legs, only to be slightly horrified at what he saw. His interface panel had been forcefully pried off. Small glowing blue droplets of energon stained his plating, mixing with splatters of pink. His array was aching and burning, feeling impossibly stretched and loose. Sentinel Prime was never a mech to pray. But in that moment, he prayed.
He glanced down at his frame. Syk patches littered his arms and his chassis. Enough to have him completely paralysed, but not enough to cause his frame to go into full system reset. His arms and legs were useless, unable to kick or push, he had to just lay there uselessly as his valve was used and abused. The swirling mix of pain and pleasure swam through his systems. His comms had been disabled, his HUD blinking a warning about needing repairs. Someone was moaning and whining, and he became aware that it was his own voice. Mechs were lined up, servos running over his once untarnished and shiny plating, now defiled and sticky. He tried to protest, but his voicebox failed him.
Sentinel sobbed, or at least he thought he did. He was vaguely aware of another round of transfluids filling his valve, dripping down onto the luxurious padded sofa beneath, now stained and torn. The mech pulled out, only to reach down and scoop up the spilling transfluids, shoving them back into his valve. He could barely make out the words being said to him, his processor taking twice as long to work. "Hah! C'mon, Prime! Keep that load in ya pretty lil' valve. Why don't you open that gestation chamber for us and we'll spark ya up, huh? Maybe then you'll actually be useful for something!" Came a sneering voice from above him. He bit his derma hard enough that he tasted energon.
Another fat spike pressed against him, the golden folds of his valve parting and wrapping around the thick metal rod. He held back a noise as thick ridges stretched his calipers to the limit, and then some. His spike twitched, before he overloaded with a loud cry, shooting transfluid up across the shiny dark blue of his chassis. The mech above him laughed cruelly, forcing Sentinel's intake open before spitting directly onto his glossa. "Dirty mech. Cumming while being passed around like shareware. If only Iacon could see their beloved prime now, with a nobody's spike shoved up his pretty cunt." Sentinel overloaded again.
The mechs manhandled him. Positioning him in whatever way they wanted. He was on all fours presenging himself like some sort of mechanimal in heat, and with the way he was panting he may as well have been. He didn't remember offlining his optics, but they shot open when a spike started to press against his intake. A rough hand squeezed at his cheek plates, forcing his mouth open. A mech of his status shouldn't be doing something as lowly as sucking spike... but it seemed he didn't have a choice. His intake hung open, the blunt tip of a spike pressing against his glossa. It slipped in further, until his nose was pressed against plating. His throat cabling felt tight, his glossa pressed flat against the floor of his intake as he drooled oral lubricants onto the floor beneath him. His tanks lurched as the mech started thrusting brutally, surely bruising the sensitive rubber of his throat. A servo wrapped around his neck and squeezed, causing him to gag even harder, an obscene bulge visible through the soft plating. His optics rolled back as tears of coolant spilled down his cheeks.
Sentinel didn't remember passing out again. But next thing he knew, he had woken up. A datastick was next to him as well as a single printed photo, his abused and whored out frame covered in Syk patches. A threat of blackmail if he'd ever seen one. He fumbled as he plugged the datastick into one of the ports on the inside of his arm, quickly uploading the footage to an encrypted folder deep in his memory banks. He groaned, as he checked his internal chronometer. He was going to be late. He couldn't be late. The quintessons would kill him if he didn't get them their energon on time, or worse, expose his treachery to all of Iacon. He gritted his denta, standing up and peeling the used Syk patches off of his plating as he trudged to the washracks with a groan, and a massive helmache.
Solvent washed over his frame, feeling like fire against his still exposed tender valve and spike housing. He scrubbed quickly, removing most of the evidence. Buffing off paint transfers and scrubbing away as much dried transfluid that he could. He rushed, turning off the shower and drying off, being careful around his exposed delicate areas. He picked up his discarded modesty panel from the floor of the main room, retrieving a welding kit from his emergency kit and getting to work. His welding job was shoddy, much more used to having people fix him up, but it'd have to do. He needed to address the people of Iacon, before heading to the surface. He just hoped quintessons didn't have the ability to smell transfluids.
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orions-choker · 3 days
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I HAD A BIG OLE THOUGHT WHILE WATCHING
S&M!!!! okay, so 1999 Jamie and reader who is part of the San Fran Sisco band, and she plays flute or like a "danty" instrument. Reader has never been like flirted with by older dudes and gets nervous around James. I'm thinking like sweet smut at the end (possibly virgin reader) if ur comfy with it. U were the first person I thought of when I was gonna request this I loooove ur writing 😚😚
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Warnings: Nsfw, Loss of virginity. Word Count: 3,863
The harsh lighting beat down across Y/N’s back. A light layer of sweat formed across her skin beneath her concert blacks. The fabric of her blouse sticking to her skin. She didn’t fully understand why they needed every house light on to do rehearsal, the heat was almost unbearable.
As she lowered the gleaming silver instrument from her lips she was quick to place it in its case. The final notes reverberated off the walls and Y/N was standing from her seat. She along with the rest of the orchestra members shuffled off the stage. Her fingers coming to undo the top buttons of her shirt in a desperate attempt to cool her skin.
Still she couldn’t complain, there weren't very many Twenty-Something year old's apart of a professional orchestra such as this. Let alone ones who could say they were about to play with one of the biggest powerhouses of music. She couldn’t wipe the grin off her face as she moved backstage, she may be most accustomed to playing classical music, but her personal preference was metal.
When she had been told they would be performing alongside Metallica she could hardly contain herself. Lost in her thoughts amongst the rush of people moving to the dressing room’s Y/N found herself face to face with someone's chest. She stumbled back, rubbing at her now throbbing nose from the collision. “Shit, I'm so sorry I didn’t see you there.” She hissed as tears sprang to her eyes.
Her gaze drifted upwards, through her now watery vision she could hardly make out the hulking man Infront of her. “You okay?” His voice was smooth against her ears. Even without her vision she was positive she knew exactly who it was standing in front of her. There was a heavy hand on her shoulder and suddenly her knees were buckling.
“Holy fuck.” She mumbled, blinking once, then twice. Suddenly James’s face was clear now. His lips were downturned, concern etched into his strong features. Sure she was well aware she was about to be on the same stage as him in about an hour, but nothing could compare to being face to face with the James fucking Hetfield. “I am so sorry,” She repeated herself, at a loss for words.
James’s brows furrowed further as he shook his head. “Hey stop apologizing, you’re good.” He assured her, his hand still present on her shoulder. She could feel a soft tingle run down her body. “Sit down for a second chick.” He moved her to the side easily, planting her down on one of the benches lining the now emptying hallway.
She moved on his command easily, still rubbing at her nose, she was thankful it wasn’t bleeding. His chest could only be compared to that of a brick wall. “Y/N,” She offered her name to him shakily. Surprise flooded her features as he sat beside her, his eyes still scanning her face.
James’s smile that followed upon learning her name had Y/N’s cheeks burning. “Cute name, suits you.” He hummed thoughtfully. “What instrument do you play?” He asked, head nodding towards the laminated pass around her neck, signifying she was part of the band. It felt like holes were being burned into her skin as his gaze landed on the top of her chest. His eyes lingered across the hint of cleavage beneath her blouse from where she had popped open her buttons.
The whole interaction had her practically squirming in her seat. Slowly her hand came down from her face, coming to rest awkwardly in her lap. “I'm second flute.” She managed to speak, though the shakiness of her voice betrayed her nervousness. The tips of her fingers dug deep into the fabric of her black slacks.
James leaned back against the wall, an eyebrow raised. “Obviously they don’t choose based on appearance, otherwise you would be first.” He seemed overly pleased with the joke, the corner’s of his lips turning upwards. If it hadn’t been obvious before, it was now, James Hetfield was flirting with her.
Obviously she had no idea what to do. Like a knee jerk reaction she corrected him. “It’s uh…actually called being principle flute, not first.” As his smile fell slightly she kicked herself mentally. That was not how you reciprocated the advances of a literal god. But then he chuckled easily. A small sense of relief flooded over her.
Slowly he got up and Y/N found herself panicking, she wasn’t done soaking in his presence. “Our turn” His back cracked lightly as he stretched it out. “Don’t go smashing your face into anybody else, I wanna see it tomorrow night.” His smile was almost devilish as he bid his farewell, heading down the hall towards the stage.
Y/N’s heart hammered in her chest. The only thoughts in her mind being that of ‘holy shit what was that interaction’. She practically floated back to the shared dressing room for the symphony. Ignoring the pleasant chatter amongst her bandmates as she placed her stuff in storage and stripped down to something more bearable to wear in this heat.
Logically she knew this wouldn’t go anywhere. Rock Stars were like that, they pretty much flirted with anything that moved. Even if James had been serious, she was at least 10 years his junior, not to mention completely inexperienced with the opposite sex. Not gonna happen in a million years. She shook the thoughts from her head. Leaving any hopes of sharing another moment with James at the door, she left the venue for the day.
Unfortunately, those thoughts were waiting for her at the door as she returned the next day. Like an obedient dog it overwhelmed her upon return. It caused her hands to shake violently the entire time she got ready. Looking over her shoulder every few seconds in hope she could even catch a glimpse of him. She would be screwed if she messed up her performance tonight because of this.
She had never been nervous for a performance in her entire career, yet now as she heard the increasing sounds of concert viewers entering the lobby, she was scared. Just as she was about to take her place on stage there was a rough voice behind her. “Do good out there, I’ll be watching.” She jumped, spinning around to find James leaning against the wall. “I’ll give you something if you do.”
A lump formed in her throat, all she could do was nod lamely before being ushered out to her seat on stage. A sudden sense of familiarity washed over her, the weight of her instrument in her hand calming her. This was her speciality, she knew what she was doing. She thumbed through the sheet music in front of her as the lights began to dim. She raised the instrument to her mouth, placing the lip plate in place. It was a sudden flood of music, the roar of the crowd fueling her adrenaline as Metallica took the stage in front of the symphony.
Y/N had an unfortunately good view of James from where she sat. His figure was imposing even from behind, the way he had to lean down into his mic. The broad span of his shoulders and the gentle rippling of his muscles as he played the guitar. Still her brows furrowed as she concentrated, eyes dropping down to the sheets in front of her.
This performance would be the best of her life, she was determined to make it so. Before she could comprehend it she was on the third song of the night. A bead of sweat trailing from her forehead down the bridge of her nose. It was sudden, the shadow over her. She hadn’t even noticed the vocals weren’t present at the moment.
James had a small break from singing as Kirk’s guitar solo raged on. He was right in front of her, holding the chords for the rhythm steady. He glistened in sweat, his hair a little damp on the ends. But he looked in his element as he smiled at her. It was inconspicuous enough to not raise questions from the players around her, but she could feel the intent behind it.
Y/N’s finger slipped for just a moment, undetected by anyone else but she cursed herself nonetheless. Even the most gorgeous man in front of her couldn’t distract her from this. Her eyes dropped once more away from him as she played on. In her peripheral vision she could see his retreating form.
Based on the energy from the crowd she could confidently say the night was a success. A wide smile plastered on her face as they closed out the show. They all took a moment on stage to take in the praise. The lights dimmed and Metallica was first to leave the stage. Y/N almost got caught up in the wave of people exiting the stage, her eyes scanning the crowd for James’s much taller figure.
Suddenly there was a strong hand grasping onto her wrist, tugging her out of the herd. She didn’t need to see him to know who it was. Wordlessly she was pulled down a side hallway, into a dressing room that was clearly labeled ‘Hetfield’. “Woah,” Y/N gasped, stumbling into the room.
“Sorry about that sweetheart, I didn't want to lose you.” James’s voice was smooth against her ear as he pressed himself to her back, closing the door behind them. She visibly shivered at the sudden scratchy feeling of his beard against the side of her neck. “You did great out there.”
The praise went straight to Y/N’s tightening core. “I-it was really all you guys.” She stuttered out. Her body turned in James’s grasp so they were facing each other. She had to crane her neck to look up at him. His piercing blue eyes bore straight into hers with no mercy.
He hummed thoughtfully, his hands coming to rest casually on her hips. “What’s got you so nervous?” He asked teasingly. As he did, his hips were pressed against hers and there was an unmistakable hardness between the two of them. It knocked a gasp out of her lungs.
This was going exactly where she thought it was going and she didn’t know if she could handle it. “I- uh,” She was stumbling over her words like an idiot. “I just, I’ve never…done this before, and you’re so much older than me with so much experience I'm worried about being bad.” The embarrassment from her confession settled as a blush on her cheeks.
Suddenly James took a hesitant step back. “Shit, how old are you?” He asked nervously. There was a clear panic in his face. His hand’s no longer touched her and she whined at the loss. She could see the frantic gears in his head turning so she shook her head quickly.
“I’m twenty two!” She assured him, though she wasn’t sure if that was enough to ease his concerns about the large age gap between them. “I don’t care that you’re older, I just don’t want to disappoint.” She tried to save the situation as best she could, scuffing the tips of her shoes against the floor.
James sighed loudly in relief. “Shit babygirl, don’t scare me like that.” His hand was suddenly cupping the side of her face, forcing her to look up at him directly. “That’s fine, by never done this before do you mean a hookup? Or fucking in general.” The crudeness of the question had Y/N gasping.
James’s chuckle did little to ease her nerves. “Sex…in general.” She confirmed. She blinked as she looked up at him, his eyes pierced into her soul. “If that’s okay with you I want to try.” Her hands hooked around his arms, squeezing his biceps tightly as she used him for leverage to hold herself up.
It was quick the way in which he captured her lips. He tasted mostly of booze and cigar smoke but it was intoxicating nonetheless. His experienced movements guided her easily as he maneuvered the two of them onto the dressing room couch. Never breaking apart once. His hands were working on undoing the buttons of her blouse with a skilled expertise that left her shaking.
Slowly she was granted air again, greedily drinking it in as James’s mouth moved down along the underside of her jaw. Her chest was suddenly exposed to the room, quickly she shimmied out of the sleeves, allowing the fabric to pool beneath her on the couch. Warm calloused hands cupped her breasts through the lace of her bra. She sighed contently, her legs spreading just enough for James to slot himself in between.
“I don’t feel like I'm doing enough.” She voiced her concerns. Her hands were tangled in his hair as he continued to nip and suck at the flesh of her neck. His hands trailed down from her chest to the button on her pants. “What can I do for you?” She asked breathlessly.
James pulled back with a slightly wild look in his eyes. His fingers popped open the button, pulling down the zipper slowly. “Nothing, You don’t have to do anything, baby girl I’ll take care of you.” Y/N lifted her hips to assist him as he tugged her pants down past her legs. Quickly he pulled off his own shirt, exposing the few tattoos he had on his arms.
The sight knocked the air out of her lungs. She was left dumbfounded as she drank in the sight of him. Suddenly both of them were left in nothing but their underwear and she couldn’t help but feel a touch self conscious. She curled in on herself, hands coming down between her legs to cover her sheer underwear.
He clicked his tongue at her, his large hands coming to grab hers and pin them above her head. “No.” He commanded her gently. “Wanna see all of you.” He held her down on the couch with one hand as his other hooked in the waistband of her panties, tugging them down. The cold hair hitting her warm skin caused her to gasp. “Knew you were pretty everywhere.” He sighed.
Leaning back on the couch, James released his grip on her hands to push her legs further apart. His grip was heavy on her inner thigh as he spread her open. A flush covered her whole body in embarrassment as she felt like she was almost being examined. Suddenly there was a prodding at the wet heat between her legs. “Oh my god.” Y/N whimpered as two thick fingers sunk into her.
“Fuck you’re tight.” James grunted as he gently pushed his fingers in deeper, curling them slightly in a way that had Y/N’s back arching off the couch. “You’re doing so good though.” He praised her gently. There was a slight sting as James scissored his fingers apart, stretching her further. She winced lightly in a mixture of pain and pleasure.
Slowly James found a rhythm as he fucked his fingers into her. A chorus of moans and whimpers spilled past Y/N’s lips, her fingers gripping onto the couch cushions beneath her. The room was filled with the wet sounds of her body sucking him back in with every pull of his wrist. There was a building tension in her stomach that left her writhing. “James, I think I’m gonna…” She trailed off.
The words only seemed to encourage him. James’s rhythm stayed steady, adding in the rotation of his thumb across her sensitive clit. “Good let go baby, I got you.” The pads of his fingers pressed up inside her, hitting the spot that caused her to let out a shaky moan. Her body going limp beneath him as she rode out of the high of her climax impaled on his fingers. She could feel the warmth drip between her legs down onto the couch. Her breaths were heavy and ragged as he pulled out with an almost embarrassing ‘pop’.
James grinned down at her as he slowly got up off the couch. He leaned over to one of the side tables in the dressing room, grabbing a foil wrapper. Y/N watched wordlessly as he tugged his hard cock out of his briefs. She didn’t have a reference for size but he looked impossibly big. He easily pulled the latex from the package, rolling it down his length. “That's not going to fit.” She said dumbly, her eyes wide as she watched him settle back down between her parted legs. A fear bubbling inside her as the head of his dick knocked against her overstimulated clit. She whimpered, her body pulling away from the touch.
“It’ll fit baby dont worry.” He assured her as his hands landed on her thighs once more, rubbing soothing circles into the skin. “If it’s too much just tell me.” His voice was so gruff but she felt comforted by the words nonetheless. She allowed herself to trust his experience over her and nodded slowly. Her body relaxing once more. His smile was almost blinding as he hooked one of her legs over his shoulder, holding on to her for leverage. His other hand left her thigh to grip the base of his girth.
It was a slow glide as he directed the head of his cock to Y/N’s waiting entrance. With each inch that pushed in it pushed the air from her lungs. James let out a low growl as he sunk deeper into the heat. The stretch was overwhelming, feeling like she was being split in two her hands flew up to James’s shoulders, her nails digging deep into the skin. She bared her teeth as she braved through the pain.
Suddenly James’s hips were fully pressed against her. She couldn’t believe it as she looked down between them where they were connected. If she had the mental power to make note of it she would have been impressed with herself for taking him all in. “Fuck,” She mumbled out, looking back up at James with wide eyes.
“You did so good Y/N.” He grunted, a bead of sweat formed on his eyebrow as he held himself back from moving more. He leaned forward, capturing her lips to distract her as he slowly pulled his hips back. Starting off with shallow thrusts as she gre accustomed to the feeling. “So fucking good.” He whispered across her lips.
The gentle movement was enough to send her wailing. Her blush deepened as she couldn’t hold back the embarrassing noises, though James seemed to be drinking them in. Her eyes looked back down, watching as James cock repeatedly disappeared inside her. It was mesmerizing. Slowly the burn dissipated leaving her with only an overwhelming sense of pleasure. “Y-you can…m-more.” She managed to stutter out.
With that permission the floodgates opened. The gentleness melted away as James set an almost brutal pace. The couch creaked beneath them as he pressed her down into the cushions with the force of his thrusts. He was mostly silent aside from the animalistic grunts rumbling deep from his chest. Y/N’s nails dragged across the skin of his arms as she lost her hold on him. It was relentless the way he chased his own release inside her.
“Oh my god, oh my god.” Y/N chanted out. It felt like her insides were being rearranged as James made space for himself. Subconsciously she thought she would be forever ruined by him, nothing could compare to the way her body molded to him. His forehead was pressed against hers as he loomed over her.
Her hand flew down between them, her fingers furiously working her own clit. It caused her body to tense around him as she easily came again. The sudden gush of her release making the slide easier, wetter, sloppier. “Fuck, Y/N.” James choked out. The way he growled reminded her of the way he sang, raw and violent. His thrusts grew sporadic as his own climax raced towards him.
In sync their chests heaved as he pushed himself as deep as possible inside her. His head dropped to her shoulder as moaned in her ear. There was a pulsating sensation and she clenched down around his cock, squeezing him as he finished. His body was heavy against her, their skin sticking together with the sweat that had formed across them.
They lay like that for a long moment until the heat between them grew too unbearable. Slowly James pulled his softening cock from her cunt. The sudden emptiness had Y/N whining, her hips bucking up to chase him. James laughed, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek as he pulled off the filled condom, tossing it into a nearby garbage bin. “You okay baby?” He asked, settling back down onto the couch and tugging her naked body into his arms.
She sighed in relief at the comfort of his touch once more. Slowly she nodded, resting her head against his chest. “Yeah I’m good,” She sighed. James' hand came to tuck a strand of slightly damp hair behind her ear, away from her face. “Thank you,” She mumbled, looking up at him appreciatively. “For being my first.”
There was a soft tenderness in his eyes as he returned her look. Being this close Y/N could see the faint crow’s lines forming at his eyes, just the suggestion of wrinkles forming in his skin but it seemed to make him all the more handsome. “Yeah?” He said, rubbing his thumb over her cheek. “Wouldn’t mind being your second as well.” Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, confusion evident on her features as she tilted her head curiously. “Were in town a couple more days, let me take you on a date?” He asked her sweetly.
“I thought this was just a one time thing?” She pulled away from him lightly, not missing the way his arms tightened around her to hold her in place. “I would love to.” She nodded sweetly. In a sudden swift movement her body was hoisted into the air. She yelped in surprise, wrapping her arms around James’s neck as he walked them across the room.
She tilted her head, seeing the shower stall and she laughed lightly, understanding the mission at hand. “You’re lucky, we don’t have showers in our rooms.” She said as she was placed back down against the cold tile floor. She was thankful for the stream of cool water pouring over her. It cooled her burning skin as James pressed himself beside her. Truthfully there wasn’t enough room for the both of them, but with James pressed up behind her she couldn't complain. “I could get used to this.” She hummed.
“You will.” James mumbled against her shoulder as he pressed a kiss there. It almost seemed like a promise. A promise for this and more. She liked the way his words wrapped around her like a blanket of comfort and she found herself hoping it would ring true.
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loverslodge · 3 days
Text
foolish ones
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summery: can your love love you back?
pairing: steve rogers x reader
warning: self-harm, blood loss, fist fight major angst, fluff, smut, happy ending
A/N: if you like sharon, sorry for the slander. also, this is my first smut with baby boy so please indulge. i have hots for him but i was suffering through my own mental health when i wrote this. also i was so close to changing ending but refrained because i love my baby boy a lot.
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It broke her heart. She thinks everyone around her heard it break. All but one. Sharon had her arms around Captain America and they were kissing with what looked like passion. She knew she wasn't good enough for him but seeing him with her hurt her more than she had thought.
She didn't tell anyone about her love for her teammate. What was there to tell when everyone could see her cheeks turn pink every time he talked to her and her eyes twinkle every time he walked in the room. She always tried to keep her distance though. She did not want to seem clingy to Steve. Even when she would not be in a good mood, she would see Steve and her eyes would twinkle with momentary happiness. She never really showed her vulnerability to him. She didn't want him to think she was powerless. She knew of his history. She knew he had always loved Peggy, mostly because she was a powerful woman. She would often feel a pang in her heart when she saw him with Natasha because she saw a potential there. But she had convinced herself that no matter what, she would be happy for him.
She never had a successful track record of relationships. She dated because the men liked her and not the other way around. She never dated anyone she liked because she would always be rejected by them. They would stop talking to her or ignore her or cut her off without telling her why. She expected the same from Rogers so she never confessed. She had many opportunities. She dropped hints though. Which was picked up by everyone on the team but Steve. You saw girls flirt with him, you saw him come back in the mornings after his dates. But you were always happy to see him, always there for him, always the woman behind the big curtain of Steve’s life.
Wanda and Natasha always helped distract you. So did Sam, Tony, Bruce, Clint and Bucky. Especially Bucky. Even Thor and Loki but Bucky was always there to catch your heartbreaking expressions. He always cheered you up when he would see shed or unshed tears over Steve. You did not like going to clubs a lot but at times, you would accompany the team to let loose. Your eyes always followed Steve. It would break you to see him others but Natasha would always try to block your view of him and offer you your favourite wine.
You could not cut him off, no matter how hard you tried. Mostly because you were the one he got vulnerable with, other than Natasha, Bucky and Tony. he would ask your advice on how to date women, what to reply to their flirty texts or even what would be good food for each particular woman he went out with. One day, you did it. You mustered up courage to tell Steve how you felt.
“Hey Steve, can I talk to you, privately?”
You were in the kitchen where Natasha, Wanda, Vision, Bucky and Sam were having breakfast with him. All of them looked at you with surprised eyes. They did not expect you to confess, especially when they thought you were joking last night. It was a movie night in the compound yesterday and everyone but Steve were present. He had a mystery date. During the rom-com, a discussion of love confessions began. Everyone talked about their way of confessing and then it was your turn. They all looked at you.
“I would just walk up to the guy and tell him I like him. I would also tell him that he needs to feel no pressure to like me back. I just had a feeling I needed to get out and it is now out. I hope this does not disturb our dynamics.”
They knew that is exactly what you'll say because these words sounded rehearsed. They kind of were. You had run these words in your mind over and over again to make them sound as much less pressured as possible. And when you woke up that day, you wanted them out. You wanted to say them to Steve out loud. You went with zero expectations because if you don't expect anything, you won't be disappointed. But you were expecting something here, with Steve. Your dynamics with Steve was different, there was a love you had sensed in his gentle touches, his laughter with you and especially his way of standing very close to you.
“I like you, Steve.” You immediately let it out, as soon as you close the door of your room behind you.
“I like you too, y/n.” he chuckles. “What is it?”
“No no. Not like a friend. I like you. More than friends. I have been, for a while. I, uh, wanted to get it out of the way. I really do like you a lot but that doesnt mean I am asking for any commitment from you. I just, the feelings are strong and I needed to say it out loud. I just hope this, my so-called confession, does not change the dynamics between us. I like what we are now and I don't want you to feel any pressure. It was a statement, I wanted to let you know.”
You didn't realize you had run out of breath, or you were holding it in. you were looking at Steve, taking in his expressions. They went from furrowed eyebrows to a stoic face to relief after your last statement.
“Oh good! I thought our friendship would be affected. You are such a dear friend to me and I don't want to lose that. Also, your advice with girls has been working wonders for me.” He hugs you. The hug might be warming your body but the pang in your heart is making the surrounding colder. “And I have been meaning to share a big news with you. I was going to tell everyone but I wanted to tell you this first. Sharon and I are finally going out together. Yesterday, it was her I went out with. The date went amazing and maybe I'll ask her to be my girlfriend. Your advice to approach her worked so well!”
Today, seeing them together, arm in arm, killed you inside. He proposed to her. He still called you a dear friend. It was a very happy occasion but nobody was happy and Steve was oblivious to it. He had been oblivious to a lot of things but there were things, on the compound, that even his friends tried to tell him, or dropped hints about, about Sharon but he wasn't ready to see them. Sharon was smirking at everyone, especially you. You smiled widely, politely, for Steve. This was the day when your heart was finally crushed and you knew that Steve will never see you for you.
Steve and Sharon weren't even dating that long. What was it? Six months. And then there was this engagement. Steve did not know how badly Sharon had been treating not just you but almost everyone. She kept on reminding and taunting Bucky of his past, she would call Natasha a slutty assassin with zero integrity, she would taunt Wanda about her tortured past and you were favourite victim. She would comment about your weight, make you question your friendship with the rest of the team and explicitly tell you that you were nothing but a joke in Steve’s life.
Bucky was always very close to telling Steve about Sharon’s evil stepmother behaviour but you always stopped him. You did not want Steve to be unhappy. He looked happy after so long, after Peggy. You cried every night though, or sometimes, in the middle of the day. If Steve ever caught you crying, you would blame it on some book you read. But everyone knew why. One day, when you were in the kitchen chopping vegetables, your brain went to a very familiar dark place. If it wasn't for Wanda, you would have used the knife not just for vegetables, again. From that day onwards, somebody would always be around you, hovering. Steve’s girlfriend’s taunts were the final straws to your already affected mental health. Steve did not know about any of this because Sharon would not let him. She had started to stray him away from everyone.
Tony had had it enough. He, very generously, arranged for an engagement party for Rogers and Sharon. The party was going fantastic and everyone was having the time of their lives. Steve and Sharon were smiling, standing arm in arm and greeted every guest. Tony saw everything that went down in his party. He saw Sharon shove you in a corner, he saw Sharon pour her cocktail on your head and he also heard the profanities she spewed about everybody to demean you. She made it a point to show you that you were a nobody and that the team just tolerated you and Steve was just being nice because you had manipulated him. Tony also heard you defend everyone by name, everyone but yourself.
Steve saw you leave. He felt a pang in his heart. He could not ignore you anymore. He had started to see Sharon trying to monopolize his time. He had started to see the team being distant and he also saw them hovering around you, especially when you are around sharp objects. He did see that your hand was wrapped in bandage and everyone in the compound was stressed but Sharon would not let him talk to you. She said you were just trying too hard to be his friend and that he should not give into your whims.
Steve wanted to follow you but Sharon appeared out of nowhere with a wide smile and a fully filled glass of cocktail. He knew this was new because no way did she finish the previous one so fast. Steve looked around and found his team had started to form a circle, the discussion between them looked serious and Tony looked very angry. Pepper was stopping him from doing something and very soon he saw Bucky run towards the elevator. Wanda was looking at Vision who was reassuring her and Natasha dragged Bruce away to a more quiet corner. He saw Hulk trying to take over but Natasha was handling it.
Steve had been feeling pangs every time he saw you. He missed your smile, your giggles and your tiny comments that had him laughing for a long time. He hadn't seen you smile in a long time. Every time now, after announcing his relationship with Sharon, he saw your light dim. He noticed your lack of appetite, he noticed your dull face and he noticed your sad eyes. He also noticed that your eyes would still twinkle, every time he walked in the room but the light left it just as immediately. He hasn't hugged you in a long time. He started to remember how much he was all over you. He loved to hug you, hold your hand and hover over you. He loved when you sat to discuss something together, your foreheads were always touching. He loved how every time, you would nudge his forehead with yours and they would giggle about it. He loved how close he was to you, physically and otherwise. He also missed his friends though. He missed hanging out with everyone.
Sharon had started showing her cracks and Tony had had enough. When Bucky ran after you to make sure you didn't do something stupid, Pepper dragged him away to calm him down. He yelled about how dumb Steve is for a superhero and how he wished he could start the war between them all over again. Pepper was calmly listening to his rant when suddenly she gasped. She saw Steve standing at the door and seeing his expressions, it seemed that he had heard some things that Tony was ranting about. Tony saw Steve and rushed to him, grabbing his collar.
“You are the dumbest person ever. You let a wonderful woman slip to get with a fucking ungrateful bitch. I don't care if she's your fiancee anymore. I will not have her in this compound any longer. If you want to marry her, do it but do not expect anybody to be present for you. She will never step foot in this place. This is a safe space and she ruined it for her. She ruined her peace, her sanity and her heart and so did you. Walk away Rogers before I pull an iron punch.”
Steve was baffled by this. What had happened? What did Sharon do? Was Tony talking about you? Did everyone know you had confessed your feelings for him? It did anger him. He thought that that conversation was between him and you but if everyone knew then it was embarrassing. He started walking in your room’s direction. He wanted answers, until he saw a crowd in front of your room. He saw Sam trying to calm Bucky and Vision was standing at the door, as if waiting for something. His pace slowed. He saw your room open with Wanda all teary eyed. She nodded at Vision and held the door open for him. Bucky wanted to go in but Wanda patted his chest to back off. He saw blood on Wanda’s dress. Were you hurt? Was there an attack?
Steve was approaching the scene slowly. Bruce was the first one to walk out of the door. He looked at everyone and said something in a low voice, so low that all he heard was “increase hovering.” Bruce moved aside and out stepped Vision and Natasha. Even her dress was bloodied. When Bucky turned, he saw his hands were covered in blood and so were his clothes. His eyes were rimmed red from tears. Natasha, too, was crying. Bruce wrapped his arms around her. Natasha’s eyes snapped at him and so did everyone else’s. He walked closer and saw Bucky carrying a bloodied knife. It was your knife. He had seen you rave about a pink handled small knife that made it easier for her to cut things. He would always see you use that whenever you cooked. It was your favourite knife.
Bucky tried to jump on him but Vision held him back. Natasha looked at him and shook her head. “Bruce, please bring my night clothes. I will stay with her tonight.” “So will I.” Wanda said in a very wobbly tone. Vision rubbed her back. Steve was very confused.
“What is going on?” Steve heard Tony come behind him. Natasha pointed her head at the knife and it was as if Tony knew. He wanted to go in your room but Pepper held him back. “Let her rest tonight, dear. We will come by tomorrow. We all are exhausted. Let's end the party downstairs and go to bed.”
Steve was still clueless. He had no idea what happened. If you were attacked then why was Tony not making plans to get revenge? Why were everyone crying and being so calm about it?
“Why is her knife in your hand, Bucky? Why is there blood on your clothes? Somebody tell me what is going with her!” His voice rose. He didn't know he cared so much about you. You weren't a field agent. You were more, staying in the compound and analyzing data kind of agent. You did learn self defense but it obviously was never a skill you ever had to use. The team saw to it. He saw to it.
“Oh now you care! Now you want to ask how she is? Where were you six months ago? Hell, where were you today? Why the fuck are you here now? Why do you care?” Bucky burst out. Steve had never seen Bucky angry at him. Sam shakes his head and pulls Bucky back before he could punch Steve. He saw Bucky throw the knife in the trash and walk away.
“Nat? Wanda? What's wrong, why are you guys crying?”
“It must be because she must've manipulated them, again. She just never learns. I told her to stop using the Avengers as her private butlers so she pulled a stunt. Im sure it was just a ploy to get people to like her. Such a sick bitch. You guys should be-” Sharon’s rants were stopped by a sting on her cheek. Her head turned sideways and an angry hand print left on her cheek.
“Talk about her like that one more time and this wouldn’t end in just a slap. We've had enough of you. Walk out of the door before I throw you off the window.” Natasha coldly points at the elevator. “And you, Steve. Please, we don't want you here. At least, not right now. We are all exhausted. Let's talk tomorrow.” Natasha walks in your room with Wanda behind her. They closed the door before he could see you. But he did catch your glimpse, tucked in bed and eyes closed shut.
Steve could not sleep the entire night. Sharon beside him was no help either. She ranted all the way to her apartment about how the Avengers have fallen and that you were nothing but a pathetic excuse. Something about your sleeping did not sit right with him. After what he saw outside your room, he needed answers. He changed and drove to the compound. It was 5 in the morning and if he remembered correctly, Natasha would have gone combat training and Wanda would have gone to meditate in her room. Which meant you were in your room alone. Or so he thought. Tony had informed F.R.I.D.A.Y to keep an eye on you. So when Natasha and Wanda left your room, they activated FRIDAY who was told to alert any nearest Avenger about any movement in your room. Every Avenger, other than Steve, was on the list of calls. So when Steve opened the door to your room, which was surprisingly unlocked, a call went straight to the nearest Avenger, Bucky.
Steve stepped into your room and was immediately greeted by drips on your bedside. You were fast asleep because of the sedatives Bruce had given you. Your hand was bandaged and the only sound in the room were your soft snores. Steve, still confused, softly went near your hand. He also saw a large bruise on your arm and another bandage wrapped around your head. Why would no one tell him what happened? If you were attacked then why was he not informed. He is your emergency contact, why was he not contacted? Before he could even touch her hand, he felt a hand hold his shirt and drag him out of the room. He was thrown across by his own best friend.
“How dare you come to her room! Do not go near her or I swear I will forget you are my best friend. You have done enough damage. Walk away, Steve.”
“What have I done? I don't even know! What is wrong with her? Why is she so badly hurt? Why was I not informed of the attack in our home?” Steve shouted at Bucky. He saw everyone had started to gather around. He saw Bruce and Vision go into your room and slowly close the door behind them. “Why did they go into her room? She is vulnerable. I am not trusting them with her.” Steve tried to go in but was pushed back by Bucky. He stood in front of the door like a guard.
“What’s going on? I got a FRIDAY alert about y/n. Is she okay?” Both Natasha and Wanda rushed in.
“Bruce and Vision are in there with her. Steve here, was trying to touch her so I dragged him out. He has no right to be here, Nat. tell him to go away.” Bucky looked at him angrily.
“Buck, I know you are protective over her but i dont think Steve knows about any of this. Remember when we found out that Steve never got our texts because Sharon kept on deleting them? She has been doing that to him for so long that he doesn't even know.” Wanda, very slowly rubbed Bucky’s back to calm him.
This was news to Steve. He always trusted people around him too easily. Once he got with Sharon, he had given her all access to his phone. He did not know what she was doing behind his back. “What do you mean by deleting messages? What are you talking about?”
Natasha pulled his hand and took him to the living room. Bucky, Wanda, Sam and Clint followed. Bruce and Vision followed them not soon after. “She is fine. Still under the sedatives. She should be waking up in an hour or two.”
Natasha took Steve’s hand in her own. She looked up and saw a disheveled Tony walk in the living room. “I heard this is the place where we are doing interventions now. I'd like to begin. Rogers-”
“No Tony, I am beginning this. I should tell him in a very calm voice. You, Bucky and Bruce are just going to want to beat him up.” Natasha intervened.
“Steve, did you know that Sharon was manipulating you away from us? Did you know that when we sent you texts about our hangout plans, we either never got replies or we would get rude lengthy texts calling us clingy? Especially Y/N. We always told her to text you because you always listened to her but then she started to grow quieter and slowly she lost her glow, Steve. She thought you cut her off because she confessed to you and-”
“Did she tell you she confessed? Why would she do that? Isn't she embarrassed? Why-” Steve stopped when he saw Bucky trying to come for him again. Tony pulled Bucky down.
“She didn't have to, punk. She has been in love with you for five fucking years, you blind ass punk. The day you announced Sharon to us, we saw her die inside. We knew she was going to confess to you because we kinda forced her to think in that direction. We wanted her to confess to you so you would see you love her too and not Sharon. The only thing she told us was that she was so happy for you, she could die. She” Bucky choked and unshed tears resurfaced. Wanda rubbed his back.
“Steve, she loves you but she never pushed her love on you. She was happy with what she had with you. Do you even know that the way you used to treat her looked like you were her boyfriend. We all thought that your friendship was flourishing but every time you would go on dates, we all were waiting to hold her broken heart. She never let us. Hell, she was struggling with mental health and she never let us know! She looked like her usual self until your engagement broke the final thread that held her. You abandoned her, Steve. She-” Natasha started crying.
Steve did not realize that he had hurt you so bad. He did love you but he saw you were happy being his friend and he saw how much Bucky relied on you, he assumed-. But he shouldn't have. He asked you, a person who loved her, tips on how to impress other women and you gave him all honest answers. You never tried to sabotage his love life. You never did what Sharon is doing. Steve would have done everything he did for other women for you. He could've been engaged to you right now if he hadn't been so blind.
“But why are you crying? What happened to her?” Steve wanted answers now. If she was so in love with him then why didn't she fight for him? Why was she lying there like a dead-
“Steve,” Wanda started in a small voice. “Why would she fight for you when she knew you already were set on someone else? She confessed to you and you still went for Sharon. Why would she fight after that? Did you know she used to self harm? Even when you were her friend, did you even notice the bandaids she had on her hands? If it wasn't for Bucky, we would have lost her a long time ago. Bucky noticed her pulling bandages off of her hand and saw the cuts. He talked to her, she cried and he helped her stop. She was clean for two years until she wasn't. You broke her Steve but what broke her more was Sharon. Did you even know how much she has berated her? She would find a way to get Y/N alone and berate her to no end.”
Wanda took a deep stuttering breath. Vision hugged her tightly and she buried her head in his chest. Tony cleared his throat and continued. “Wanda caught her trying to self harm again after Sharon left the kitchen. If it wasn't for Wanda, we would've lost Y/N that day. Since that day, we all met and decided to never leave her alone. We would not let sharp objects near her for a long time. As soon as she was done with her task, we would take it away. She knew why and never questioned it. Yesterday crossed all limits though, Rogers. You never came to talk to her. You didn't even bother to talk to her and then that psycho bitch did it. She pulled Y/N in a secluded corner and berated not just her but us too. She told her that you were her pet and would do what she wanted. She said she would control you to put Avengers in their right place which was behind the bars or underground. She poured her cocktail on her head, Steve! Her head! She even tried to rip her dress because she was jealous how beautiful she looked! Y/N ran away. I gathered them and told them everything. Bucky ran after her because he knew she would do something again and she did. By the time Bucky reached, it was too late, she had lost a lot of her blood and her bedroom floor was all blood. She had hit her head and hand on her vanity when she fell. Bucky asked FRIDAY for help and that's what you saw last night. Even though I raised protection on her, Natasha and Wanda wanted to stay with her.”
“You have done enough damage, Steve. Please go away. Go back to your Sharon. We have no hard feelings against you but we really don't want Sharon here. You can marry her and retire but do not talk to Y/N ever again. She's had enough.” Bruce chimed in. Everyone nodded. He had not just lost Y/N but also every friend of his. He knew you were sensitive but never thought that you would-
“Please, let me meet her. Once. please. If she tells me to go away, I will walk away. But if she tells me to stay, I will fight for her.” Steve begged and looked at Bucky. He knew Bucky would be the last hurdle to reach to you.
“So you will still marry Sharon after everything you learnt about the evil stepmother. Wow Steve, I never thought you had zero backbone in the relationship. If you want to talk to her, leave Sharon. You have a choice Steve, either pick Sharon or pick Y/N and with Y/N, come us.” Bucky glares at Steve haughtily.
“It's not so simple, Bucky. We made a public announcement. I cannot just take it back. The world knows.”
“It is an engagement. It can be broken. You will let yourself marry a manipulator than be with the woman who makes you happy! Hah! The integrity of America really is as sturdy as you. Listen very carefully, Rogers, you always have a choice but I think Sharon is making all the decisions here. Also, here. Watch this. Maybe you will finally know what woman you are going to marry. Let's go everyone, I want to see if Y/N is fine.” Tony got up and pulled everyone out of the room, leaving Steve with the ipad full of videos of Sharon berating you and you standing tall for your friends. Not yourself, but your friends. Yesterday’s video broke his heart. He could hear his laughter in the background while you were drenched in her cocktail. Tony was right, he had to make the right choice.
You wake up and the first thing you see is Bucky holding your hand. You smiled slightly and Bucky released his breath. “They all want to meet you.” You nodded and everyone poured in. your eyes were glancing around to catch the glimpse of that one person. You saw his head at the very end, outside the door. Bucky knew you wanted Steve to be here but he or anyone else wasn't going to let Steve in till he made a decision and he had hurt you enough for them to become this protective over you.
Steve saw them pour in your room and he just stood outside your door, he caught your eye and that halted his breath. Even in this condition, you were choosing him. Not out loud but he saw the way your eyes were searching for him in the crowd and the way they twinkled, just enough to give him strength to break things off. He wanted to run in your room and shake you and talk sense into you and tell you how sorry he is. He ran.
He drove like a madman back to Sharon’s apartment and started packing as soon as he walked through the door. He hadn't had a chance to shift his stuff from the compound to her place. Sharon just bought him everything new because she said she wanted to build a new life with him. How blind was he? How did he not see what she was trying to do? He heard Sharon yelling for his attention but he was too busy stuffing his clothes in his gym duffle bag that he brought with him. He saw his electronics on Sharon’s side of the bed. He knew she was stalking him through those so he did what any insane, high on adrenaline person would do. He picked those up and smashed them on the floor. He heard Sharon screech like a vulture but he didn't care. He stepped on them many times to destroy every last bit of them. He took off his ring and suddenly, he could breathe clearly. He saw Sharon with disheveled hair, standing in the living room. He threw the ring at her feet and walked out. No explanation.
He drove back to the compound. He saw everyone training. When they saw his car back in the compound, it had been almost 6 in the evening. They all saw him run in the residential area. They knew he was rushing to meet you but they also knew he would not meet her today. Steve rushed to her room but as soon as he opened the door, he saw Bucky standing with his back to the door and mild beeping in the back. His heart sank. Bucky turned around and pushed Steve out of the room.
“Did you not break Sharon’s phone while you were breaking yours?”
“What do you mean?”
“Sharon called. She spewed so much nonsense and called her words. She called her a homewrecker. Y/N broke down and her pressure increased. I called for Bruce but between the blood loss and the agitation, she took a hit and she had to be attached to the heart monitor to make sure she stays calm. Honestly Steve, good decision but you could have handled it better. Now please go. I don't have energy left in me to even punch you.”
All Steve caught was another glimpse of yours and it broke his heart. He had made you suffer so much. You were right there. All along. He lost you. He went back to his room. It still had your lingering faint smell. You loved roses and the last time you were in his room, for a reason, you left a part of you. He looked around. He saw his shirts were neatly hung in the closet and so were his Henley’s and pants. He never left it this neat. It was all you. He turned to his bed and saw slight smudge on his pillow. He looked at it closely and saw that they were the smudges of your tears. Tears filled his eyes and he broke down crying. He held his head in his hand and cried about all the times you were so close to him. He could have kissed you and you would have let him.
Bucky never left your side. You wanted to ask about Steve but everytime everyone would avoid his topic. It had been two weeks. You were off of your bed and moved around the compound. You hadn't run into Steve yet. More like, you were not made to run into Steve. Every time he was near, someone would distract you and take you away from the same area. Meanwhile Steve tried to redeem himself in the eyes of others. He did everything for everyone. He, many times, didn't realize that many of the demands made were for Y/N. tony was loving this torture phase of his. Natasha rolled her eyes at him. Tony had contacted the press and put out an exclusive article about the broken engagement of Captain America. He made sure to paint Captain in such a wonderful light that Sharon’s real colors were soon revealed. Sharon had pissed off a lot of people and it had all come to bite her in the ass. Y/N was kept away from every news article. Tony had made sure she never got her hands on news channels ever again. At least until he thinks it's safe for her.
It was the middle of the night and you had a mild nightmare. It had been three weeks since the Sharon incident but sometimes, she still haunted you. You woke up, unable to sleep. You used your bathroom and sighed. You were sleeping well, sure, because of your treatment but that did not make your face glow the way it used to. You noticed how dead you looked in the mirror. You walk out of your room and make your way to the kitchen. Maybe icecream would help. Sam said he bought your favorite.
There, in the kitchen light, you saw the person you least expected to see. Steve was sitting with his head hung low and drinking water. He woke up from another restless night and thought water might help. Your feet never made a sound but Steve always knew when you walked in. He had the same feeling right now. His eyes immediately shot up and there you stood, at the dining table, just 4 feet away from him. He did not move. His eyes wide. He did not want to scare you off. You walked slowly to the fridge, feeling his eyes on you. Goosebumps rose on your arms. You scooped icecream in a bowl and put it back in the fridge. It seemed the entire scene was going in slow-mo.
“Do you- do you want some?” You asked in a very quiet tone, not looking him in the eye. Your eyes were cast down and they dragged themselves to his hands. No ring. Her heart fluttered but she killed it with the memories of what had been.
“No. I, uh, i don't- Can I taste from your bowl? I've never tasted it even though I have been buying it for a really long time.” Steve looked at her. He wanted her to look him in the eye. He wanted to see the smile and twinkle in her eyes, every time she said hi to him. She nodded her head and sat down at the dining table. Steve followed you and sat down beside you, pulling the chair as close to you as you used to sit. He leaned closer and your foreheads almost touched.
She scooped some icecream on the spoon and offered it to Steve. He shook his head and turned her hand to her mouth. “You first.” you took the icecream in and a small moan escaped you. Something stirred in Steve. You scooped some more icecream and this time put it right on Steve’s lips. “You should try before I finish it off. This is my favourite. You are lucky I am even letting you taste mine.” Steve chuckled lightly and let her feed him. This time, you looked at his mouth and saw some icecream dribble from the side. With no thought in your head, you swiped your thumb and cleaned it off his mouth. He held your wrist and pulled you a little closer. Your breath hitched. He brought your thumb to his mouth and sucked it clean. Your eyes shot up to his and his eyes darkened. He wanted to kiss you right there. He saw desire in your eyes and he saw your eyes look back at his lips. But he controlled himself. He didn't want to kiss you just because the moment was hot. He wanted to kiss you after having a real conversation.
You felt the atmosphere electrify. Before you could do something you regret, you stood up. Shoving the icecream bowl at Steve, you ran out of the room asking him to finish it off. Steve chuckled. He loved your shy reaction. He loved how reactive you were to his touch. You always were but now Steve really noticed. He finished the icecream and made a note why he was buying this flavour. Not because Sam wanted it but because it was your favourite.
Sleep evades you and your heart won't stop thumping. Steve is just one door down. You can go there, kiss him and get it over with. But you wanted to know if he was okay and he wasn't wearing his ring. Desire starts to build up in you and you pull out your vibrator. Pulling your shorts down, you press the vibrator on yourself. Moans leave your mouth as you think Steve’s tongue on you. You imagine him all over you, kissing you, sucking on your nipples. Steve’s name escapes your mouth, louder than anticipated. The vibrations shake your core as your fingers go in and out picturing Steve. You climax just as Steve, in your imagination, comes in you. What you did not know is just outside your room, Steve had heard you cry out to him. He ran to his room to release his long awaited tension.
Another two weeks go by and this time you know Steve is in the room but he wasn't allowed to approach you. Nobody knew about your little meeting and you liked to keep it that way. You stole glances and so did he. You wanted to tell him to meet you again but there was never a right time. He tried to go near you but someone would always be hovering around you. He was sick of it. He wanted to talk to you, clarify. But you finally found a way to send him a message. The safest place to meet him was his room so you found a stray pen lying around in the kitchen and picked up the small piece of tissue. You pretended to put something back in the pantry and looked at Steve. It was as if he understood, he slowly slipped away from the dining table. You had a fraction of a second before someone noticed Steve near you so you slipped the note right in his hand when Bucky showed up. You pointed at your favourite snack that was put away from Sam’s reach. Bucky pushed Steve out and helped you with your needs. You looked at Steve and saw him read the note discreetly. He slipped it in his pocket and looked at you with a slight smirk on his face. You blushed and turned away.
Midnight could not have come any later. The waiting seemed like an eternity to you. You kept on telling yourself that you just wanted to ask what happened with Sharon when internally, you knew, your desire for him had bubbled more than ever. You kept listening to conversations outside. Slowly, the voices faded and you heard doors being shut. You figured it would be safer to wait out another half an hour before running to Steve.
Steve heard soft feet running to his door. He opened his door and caught the glimpse of your bracelet glinting that he had gifted you on your birthday in the first year of five. He grabbed your hand and waist and pulled you into his room. He closed the door and pushed you flush against it. His hands fumbled to lock the door. Your breathing synchronized with his and your chest was pushed against his. He is so close that you can just look up and touch his lips with yours. His hand is still gripping your waist. You refuse to look up to him. The light in his room does not hide how red your cheeks have become.
You could hear his smirk. His free hand grabbed your face and lifted it gently to meet his eyes. He had miscalculated the gap between the two of you. As soon as he lifted your face, your lips brushed against his. A gasp escapes you and your eyes widen. Your innocent reaction adds more to desire and without a second thought, he brings down his face and puts his lips on yours. Your brain immediately accepts his touch and you wrap your arms around his neck. The kiss starts slow but Steve starts to pour in more passion. He deepens the kiss and you moan loudly. Your voice awakens him even more and he bites your bottom lip. Your tongue in his mouth was losing the battle to control itself. You play with his hair and tug them, gaining a moan from him. He pulls you more towards him. Your hand moves away from his hair and moves to his cheek. Your bandage rubs against his face that pulls him out of the kiss. He reluctantly pulls away from you and you finally breathe the air. He brings your bandaged wrist to his lips and kisses it gently. It sends electric shocks down your spine.
He pulls you to his bed. You've sat on his bed before. He makes you sit with your back towards the headboard and covers your legs with his blanket. He wouldn't be able to talk if he looked at you in your pajamas. You had forgotten you weren't wearing any underwear under your tank top and shorts you call pajamas. His eyes raked you up and down and while covering you with his blanket, his hand accidentally brushed against your boobs, erecting your nipples, which were very much visible. He could not take his eyes off of your well kissed lips and you could move past his darkened blue eyes that matched so well with his pink lips. You both cleared your throat. He sat in front of her and tried to make her as comfortable as he possibly could.
He took her bandaged hand in his hand. “Why didn't you tell me you struggled?” he softened his voice so much, she felt like crying. She had heard his soft tones but never this soft, never this vulnerable. “You never showed me your vulnerability, you know. I realized that after so long. I don't know what you're afraid of, what triggers you or what annoys you. You have always been your pleasant self. Why? Did you not trust me enough like you trust Bucky?”
“I never told Bucky anything. He just, he was just there. He found out. You, well, you had responsibilities. Why would I want to put you under more pressure? If I told you, you would've been even more fussy about me. I wouldn't want to burden you. Adding to your responsibility. I am not even someone you consider family, like you do Bucky and Nat. my telling you things would have messed up your life. I don't want that. We are not that close anyway.” You say softly. There was no need for aggression. You knew that sooner or later someone would ask this question but you didn't expect it to be Steve. Others had just accepted you as their own but with Steve you always felt like an outsider even though you shared moments.
“But why would you- What do you mean we aren't that close? I thought we were best friends! I thought of you as my family. Why would you think you're a burden? Baby, you are a responsibility I would take over anything. All you had to do was say the words.” he cupped your cheeks and forced you to look in his eyes. Tears welled up in your eyes. Your new nickname got lost in the angst.
“I am a burden, Steve. Sharon was right. I never deserved you. I never deserved anyone. All of you are so nice to me. Someone with nothing to contribute to the team. Sharon rightfully said that I am just a burden they are carrying until I drop dead. Then you'll all be free.” Your tears flowed freely. You were crying and Steve felt such rage. He never should've been with Sharon. How could she say that to someone who was there for everyone. You were the backbone of the team and Sharon broke you. He sat beside you and pulled you to his chest. You cry harder. Everyone showered you with love and care but it was Steve you wanted and now that he was here, the tears flowed free. And Steve knew that. He felt that. He rubbed your back while you sobbed and wet his shirt.
“Baby, you are not a burden. Not to me and neither to the team. They all love you so much. Did you know, if it wasn't for running into you accidentally, they never would have let me near you. Bucky has been threatening me on a daily basis to not go to your room or talk to you. So did everyone else. Baby, I was in the wrong. I was blind.”
“But you are talking to me right now! What if Bucky knows about this? Will he combat you? Oh my god! I thought about only myself again. I am so sorry. I-” You were silenced by Steve pecking your lips. “Hush, baby. Thinking about yourself is the best thing you can ever do to me. I will handle Bucky. I want to keep you here with me forever now. I have no intention of letting you go, baby.” he pecks your lips again. Your eyes widen.
“But, what about Sharon? I don't want to be a homewrecker.” you whispered the last part softly. Steve scoffed. “I threw my ring at her face and left the next day of the party. I did not know the things she had done to you and me. She manipulated me into believing that my friends did not want me and that my life is better with her. You are not a homewrecker because there was no home to begin with.” He draws circles on your back. Your tank top has ridden up a little from the back and his skin on yours is calming you down way better than any other attempts she had made. “I am sorry. I was so blind, baby. I never saw how Sharon treated you. If it wasn't for Tony and his video feeds, I never would've known how bad things were. Baby, I am so sorry. Please forgive me. I know I am not worth your forgiveness.”
You didn't know where this courage came from but you were now straddling him. You cupped his face and looked him right in the eyes. “You are worth everything, Steve. You have nothing to apologize for. It was Sharon and not you. I knew that. You would never swear, even in your texts and when she sent me those texts, there were definitely words you would not use.”
Steve’s eyes snapped open. He never thought of you knowing him so damn well. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you on his chest. His head rested on the headboard and your nose touched each other. This was surely the moment to say it.
“I love you.”
You were taken aback. You never expected Steve to-
“Steve, are you sure? I know it is an emotional moment but-”
“I love you, Y/N. I have been in love with you for god knows how long. Honestly, I was just to dumb to see my own feelings. When you told me you liked me, I wanted to jump with joy but I had made commitments to Sharon so couldn't act on anything. And then Sharon kept on pulling those stunts and she drifted me from you. Did you know my heart stopped when I saw blood on Wanda, Nat and Bucky’s clothes? I thought I lost you that day. I thought I lost the chance to hold your face like this, and peck you like this and tell you I have been in love with you for a long time. Give me one more chance, baby. I want to prove to you that I deserve to be with an angel like you. Let me take you on dates.”
“There are other ways to prove you deserve me as well, you know.” You said softly again, trying to hide your face.
“Are you sure, baby?”
“Yes.”
Steve pulls you to him and your lips land on his. You groan and your hips start to rub his erection. Steve moans loudly and grinds against your core. You gasp against his lips as your shorts move a bit to the side and your wetness drips on his erection. His lips move to your neck and he nips, sucks and licks your neck, living love bites all over. “You moan so good, baby.” His hands travel up your back inside your tank top. His fingers brushing against your breasts sending shivers up your spine. Your moans and gasps grow louder along with his. The grinding grows aggressive and you are very close to your release. Steve moves his hips faster against you and he cums along with you. Your head rests on the crook of his neck and he leaves soft kisses over your neck and shoulder.
He flips you on the mattress and you land softly on his pillow. “Baby, are you sure? Just say it once and I will let you go. If not, I am going to make up for a long time.” Your nod and a soft yes was enough for him to get naked. He kneels and pulls your shorts away to see your glistened pussy. He groans. “Baby, you came ready for me, didnt you?” he does not wait for your answer and dives right suck your wet cunt. You moan and raise your back. Your tank top was the only piece between you and him. You remove it quickly and pull his one hand to your boobs. He plays with your nipple, pinching and pulling, making you moan even louder. “Baby, you are so fantastic. I am going to put my fingers in you and make you cum for me. I will slurp you all up.”
You gasp when he puts his finger in you and starts pumping. His tongue found your clit and he used his other hand to rub it even harder. You hold the blanket tightly in one hand while your other hand guides his head to find a better spot in your core. His other finger takes away your breath for a second and he speeds up his pumping. “I am so close, Steve.”
“Cum for me, baby.”
“Steve. Ste- Steve. I-” you moan loudly when your second orgasm washes over you. Steve laps up every last drop of your juice and adjusts himself to enter your core.
“This is okay, right baby?” you nodded and pulled on his hand. He chuckles and falls on you, balancing his weight on his arms. He kisses you and drags his kisses down to your breasts. He mouths one nipple and pinches the other, gaining a sweet moan from you. He shifts your other nipple and does the same. He adjusts his hips and enters you with a thrust. Your back lifts and he leaves kisses on your neck. You meet his thrusts with the same strength. He moans loudly in your ears and it is just plain music.
“Go harder, Steve. Please. Help me cum.” You moan. Steve pushes in deeper and starts pumping faster. He hits your g-spot that leaves you seeing stars. “That’s the spot, isn't it, baby.” he silences your moans with a kiss. “Let me cum in you baby. You will let me, won't you?” His thrusts slows down a little, gaining a whine from you. He smirks and kisses you deep, slowing down. “Yes! God! Please Steve! Cum in me please. I need you so much.” His speed takes over and hits that spot again and again till you cum on his cock. Your walls clenching and making it so much easier for Steve to cum in you.
He falls on you. His weight pushes you into the mattress. You whine a little, weakly trying to push him off of you. He laughs in your ears, making you blush. He was still inside you and the juices had overflowed out of your pussy. He lifts himself on his elbow and cups your face. The look of pure bliss on your face makes him feel like the greatest achievement ever. He pulls out of you and carries you to the bathroom. He cleans you up and puts his t-shirt on you. Your head lulls on his shoulder.
“Baby, we've got to get a little dressed or I will not be able to stop.”
“Who told you to stop though.” your muffled voice raised his desire again.
“Baby, don't say things you don't mean. You'll regret letting me do you over and over again.” he points out to her that she is lulling to sleep.
“Wow, you just said you had a lot of making up to do. I don't see things being made up here.” You lift your face to him and kiss his chin. You smile. His heart melts but what you said rang his desire for you again. “Fine. I will make up. Just like you want me to.” He picks you up and tosses you on the mattress and joins you in it. His t-shirt tossed aside and his lips back on yours.
The sun was seeping through the blinds in Steve’s room. You wake up with his arms around you. You were pulled so much on his side that the rest of the Avengers could sleep on the other side. You stretch your hand above your head and hiss at a slight sting on your wrist. You look at the bandage and slowly rub it. Steve sees your face fall and grabs your wrist. Slowly, he runs circles on the bandage, easing the pain a little.
“It stings a little.” You say, pouting. “Don't worry, baby. You'll be good as new and then I will never let you get hurt.” He kisses your scar on the forehead.
You jerk up from the bed with a surprise. “Oh shit! I stayed the night, Steve! They'll worry. I've got to get to my room! Bucky is going to be so worried and-”
“Why are you so worried about Bucky?” It was not just his tone that gave away his jealousy, it was his face as well. “I don't like that punk hanging out around you. You are mine. All mine. Not his.” You laugh. Your laughter takes him by surprise and leaves a small smile on his face even though he is still jealous.
“Baby,” it was your turn to sweet talk. “I am all yours. But he is a friend who first found me like this. He worries a lot because he had thought about these things but never did it. Also, he is your best friend. To be honest, I befriended him because he was your best friend. I wanted to know more about you.” You put on Steve’s t-shirt and shuffle around to wear your shorts. Steve stands up from the bed with all his glory. Your eyes dart down. He knows he affects you so he saunters his way to his sweatpants and puts them on, very slowly. You look away and hear Steve laugh.
“You are such a tease. I should've just let Bucky take care of me instead of you.” You fake a huff and walk to the door but before you could unlock it, Steve spins you and pins you against it. “Let me spell this out for you, baby. You. Are. Mine. Bucky can find someone else but you? I am keeping you all to myself.” his dark eyes roam on your body and your core warms up.
“I did not know you were a possessive man, Steve.” You slowly put your hands on his abs and trace all the way to his neck. His cock twitches against you, telling you to not go. “Look at that, I might have to stay a little longer to take care of you.” Steve pulls you back to his bed and you hope nobody is awake to catch you.
Tony was already alerted when you left your room yesterday night. He saw the feed of you sneaking into Rogers’ room. “Bucky, sorry bud. Your efforts went to waste. You said a month but there is still a week left and she's already in his room. Pay up, pal. You lost.” Bucky grumbled and pulled out a $100 bill.
“Damn! I really thought we’d make him suffer more.” Nat pulls out $50 to pay up.
“You bet on my love life! You bet on her?!” Steve emerged in the dining room with his arms around you. You blush furiously seeing how everyone now knew you spent the night with Steve.
“To be fair, Tony has to pay me $500 for making you suffer. I told him I wouldn't last a month but I would last at least two weeks. I beat him so in all technicalities, I am the real winner.” You smile brightly and take the bills from everyone. “This is going to pay for our room’s new furniture.” You pecked his cheeks and went to grab a waffle, leaving Steve baffled and everyone in dismay.
21 notes · View notes
apollos-boyfriend · 1 year
Note
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I humbly request a Jardoon
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fan art i drew of captainsparklez dying in a glue trap
[vote for me, get a doodle!]
17 notes · View notes
fumifooms · 6 months
Text
Mickrin
Fifth entry of my “Dunmeshi rarepairs I will birth with my own hands if I have to” series. This one’s straight up embarrassing, like of course the shadow version of Chilchuck and Marcille would get me.
It suddenly grabbed me out of nowhere. What got me thinking about it is this exchange, first comic third panel, because like… Woah. He knows she has a thing for Kabru? Or something. And he has NO FEAR. Like it’s so forward and has 0 pretenses lmao. And then I thought… And oh no. Oh no.
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"I can fix him" x "I can make her worse"
Very uptight and strict and rules-following and too self-aggrandizing tbh x will not hesitate to insult you to your face and sleazy and free spirit…. Kuro is involved in an ot3 of sorts in my head and basically they drag her into Situations of various moral standing aka scams or idk going to a club god forbid. I think she needs to relax and get taken down 1 peg maybe, and I think he needs like…….. Someone to teach him what is unhealthy lmao, also remind him to get work benefits, and if they can like get to feel safe and comfy with one another (and god just the road there would be a beautiful trainwreck to watch) they would be gossip besties worsties.
Kabru needs to be the epitome of morals but like, if it’s Mickbell she can lower the bar… Just for him… <3 She can fix him just a little and she’ll be like "wow! Ok I can settle for this amount of upstanding behavior from you Mickbell you get a gold star"
I never expected it ok I read this extra expecting nothing and god knows why I saw him be like "hey u like Kabru right. You’re his babysitter right. Which poor sap is being Kabru’s maid" with 0 fear and her being so casually pissed back at him and idk, how they’re so comfy being not polite with one another but they’re still coworkers-friends despite it… Crazy for how prickly they both are that they manage that much. They bicker and see each other as annoying at best but weirdly dependable and friends despite it all and……….. I am going to grow them in a lab and observe how I can make it work
MICKBELL IS A REBOUND MORE AT 9??? Maybe Rin and Mickbell have a one night stand and then the aftermath dynamic is this….. She probably regrets it. And then it gets more complex and grows into something odd as she becomes hyperaware of him and they have this little complicity thing going on….
I think cuddling with Kuro (who would be more like a platonic protective & soothing presence in his and Rin’s relationship rather than romo) would destress her actually I think she needs and deserves it. Go to a dog cafe bbygirl it’ll fix you. So what I’m saying is the three of them watch a movie and Rin and Mickbell are sitting on Kuro’s laps and everyone is so comfy. Kuro’s legs die halfway through but he’s self-sacrificing it’s fine….. Actually Mick is on his laps Rin’s just nuzzled into his side. There, fixed. I am so weirdly invested in them… They’re funky to think about. Rin seeing Mickbell and Kuro like "you guys are aware that what you two have is fucked up right" and then joining them in the messy dynamic 🤝  Put them in situations. That will be all.
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The sheer amount of sass on their own, let alone together…
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Make them get drunk together it’ll be glorious
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spaceratprodigy · 7 months
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one day I'll finally talk/write abt what happens between them on scylla but I think nonstop abt what his vision mom says
#like imagine getting wizard high on a deadly concoction of illegal space drugs together#and ur will they won't they ride or die starts having hallucinations that you can also see of his mom and himself#and at one point his vision mom looks at you after berating him#and starts going on about how meeting you was finally a good influence in her son's life#and how after everything you've been through together if you try to tell him you still think he's a good man#he gets so sad and tells you he doesn't think he can agree#and you have to sit there and listen to everything his subconscious thinks abt himself and the hopeless path he's been stuck on#and listen to his subconscious thoughts bleeding into what he really thinks of you and ouggghhhhhh#and then having whatever high no filter conversations you want them to have that night#(hi this is huge for faith and max reciprocation and reconciliation after fallbrook and etc etc etc)#and I always think abt how mellowed out he is the next morning and him and faith having to finally acknowledge and talk abt EVERYTHING#especially what just happened last night#and I always think abt them walking back to the ship together finally talking to each other again#and I think abt her saying to him something abt his vision mom saying she was a good influence on him#and I think abt him glancing at her and giving a small quick smile before quietly saying it's true#the same way he said to martin on groundbreaker#when talking abt how the people of edgewater were good people doing the best with what they had#oughhhh bc he knows bc those were his own unfiltered thoughts of course he agrees#sorry I'm very exhausted I need to be emo abt something#rambling#faith and max
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pasukiyo · 11 months
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BEAUTIFUL THING
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mike schmidt x f!reader word count; 2,573 warnings; smut, no plot, just porn :D summary; there was nothing in the world she wanted more than mike schmidt. but what were the chances he'd ever make a move on her?
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 She wanted Mike Schmidt.
 Don’t get her wrong, she absolutely adored Abby, she was sweet, funny, and overall not a hard kid to take care of. But she knew all too well what her intentions were when she agreed to take up the babysitting job— how could she say no when he looked at her like that with those big, deep brown eyes?
 It was another late night spent at the Schmidt house— Mike had just gotten himself a new job with unholy hours, some late night security gig he had no choice but to take. Her mouth opened in a yawn and through her bleary vision, she blinked down to the watch on her wrist. 
 4:30 AM. Mike wouldn’t be back for another hour and a half or so. 
 She sighed and threw her head back against the cushions, staring absentmindedly at the television as some old cartoon played, audio soft and muffled. She wasn’t sure why she even bothered trying to stay up for Mike— she’d been babysitting for him for months, (without pay, might she add) and still, neither he nor she had made any moves. She wasn’t even sure if he ever even intended to make a move on her. 
 But she was just so certain that he felt at least some sort of attraction towards her. She could see it in the way he looked at her, how his eyes would absentmindedly trail down her body against his better judgment, how he’d pull the inside of his bottom lip between his teeth while he did. She could see it in the way his body would react when she came too close, like when she gave him a handshake or playfully shoved his shoulder.
 It was the same way she reacted when he was close. 
 Surely it couldn’t all be for nothing?
 Her eyelids were falling heavy against her eyes and she slowly slumped further into the cushions of the couch, hands tightening around the blanket around her body. Sleep was so close that she could reach out and feel it, and she would’ve slipped into the arms of slumber if it hadn’t been for the opening and closing of the front door. 
 She grumbled and furrowed her brows down at her watch. 
 4:35 AM. Mike wasn’t supposed to be home yet. 
 At the notion, she jolted and snapped her head towards the entrance, her heart thrumming against her chest as she prepared herself for the sight of a total stranger, ready to make a run straight for Abby’s room. She blinked and narrowed her eyes at the dark silhouette of the figure as it hung its coat on the rack bolted on the wall. 
 “Sorry. S’ just me.”
 She knew that voice. It was a voice she always dreamed about, a voice belonging to someone she’d seen practically everyday.
 “Mike?” Her voice came out rough, having not spoken for hours, not since Abby had gone to bed. “What are you doing home so early?” She asked as she pushed herself further up the sofa while Mike made his way towards the recliner, wiping a hand down his face before plopping down into the seat. She could only make out his face through the light from the television but even then, she could sense something was off. 
 Mike tapped his fingers against the armrest of the recliner, “I… I just… needed to leave… I guess,” he replied and she frowned, scooting to the far side of the couch closest to him. “Is… is everything alright?” She questioned, unsure whether or not he needed consoling. Mike leaned further back into his seat and let his eyelids flutter closed, inhaling deep through his nostrils. 
 “Just… is Abby asleep?” He finally asked after a moment and she nodded, humming. “She went down earlier than usual. Actually managed to get her to eat something,” she replied, her lips curving into a smile but quickly faltering again when she realized Mike wasn’t going to reciprocate. He looked almost… distraught. 
 Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she pondered her options. She’d known Mike for some time but even then, she still knew little to nothing about him. He slept a lot, that was for sure. And he loved his little sister and was trying so hard to be exactly the type of person she needed. But she knew nothing about him, Mike Schmidt himself. She didn’t know what he did in his free time, what he liked to eat, if he had hobbies, nothing. 
 Hell, she’d spent so much time fantasizing about him and filling in all the holes herself, she hardly even acknowledged that he could be somebody entirely else. She didn’t know the first thing about him.
 But she could learn to try. 
 She leaned forward, a steady hand warily finding his on the armrest of the recliner and she flinched when Mike snapped his eyelids open, looking between her and their touching hands. Their gazes surged into one another and she made no moves, as if seeking any sign that she should stop.
 Mike’s heart thrummed so hard inside his chest, it was a miracle that she couldn’t hear it. She looked at him as if she were asking permission— permission to what, he hadn’t even the slightest clue. But in spite of the voices inside of his head telling him he shouldn’t, that he shouldn’t let her, that he was wrong for her, he did. How could he say no when she looked at him like that, as if he were the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid eyes upon?
 His silence gave her the confidence to let her fingers creep further down to the back of his hand, flipping it around until they rested against the heel of his palm. Slowly, she soothed the tips of her fingers up his palm until they fell between the cracks of his, letting her digits curl around his knuckles. Mike shuddered at the touch and let his own fingers press down against hers and he watched as she raised their intertwined hands to her mouth, their gazes molded together as she pressed her lips against his skin. His lips trembled as they fell open and he narrowed his eyes, clinging onto the last bit of restraint he had left. 
 “You can relax with me, Mike,” she whispered against his skin, pressing another soft kiss to the knuckle of his ring finger. “You don’t have to worry while I’m around.”
 Mike pressed his lips back together and fought back the urge to groan at her words, his eyes wandering from their hands, down her arm, to her chest where it pressed against the edge of the sofa. His breath shuddered when he exhaled and the rubber band stretched inside of him finally released and with it, the last of his restraint. 
 Fuck it, he thought. It’s been long enough.
 Mike tugged her closer by the hand and her lids widened, a squeal slipping from her lips, in which he was swift to eat right up, pressing his mouth against hers. With his hand not intertwined with hers, he gripped her hip, working his way up to her waist to squeeze. The sound she made was muffled inside their admittedly messy kiss and he pulled her even closer, her knees having nowhere to go but on the outside of his thighs. 
 Mike groaned and pulled away to catch his breath as her hips ground down against his, already feeling frustrated with the growing erection in his jeans. He blinked up at the woman on top of him, her arms thrown over his shoulders, her chest heaving as she chased air back into her lungs. She stared down at him with hazy irises, still bleary from lack of sleep. 
 “Sorry,” Mike finally managed to breathe out, his palms resting on either of her thighs. “Probably a little much, wasn’t it?”
 He watched as the corners of her lips curved into a grin and she chuckled breathlessly, shaking her head. “Not enough,” she tittered as she surged her lips back into his, one of her hands on his shoulders slithering their way into his mess of dark tendrils, fingers curling and tugging at his roots. He hissed inside her mouth and dug his fingernails into her skin, a whimper falling from her lips, allowing him to take control of the situation. 
 He pressed himself forward and reached for the end of her t-shirt and she briefly broke away to allow the fabric up and over her head, her own fingers already working at the buckle of his belt. Mike leaned forward to pepper kisses all across the tops of her breasts and she threw her head back as he took over in undoing his belt, ripping it from his loops and throwing open the button and zipper of his jeans. 
 She clambered off of him as he raised his hips to tug his pants and boxers down just enough to allow his erection to spring free of its restraints, feeling her stomach do a somersault at the sight as she stripped herself of her own shorts and panties. Mike fought the urge to wrap his hands around his cock as she reached behind her back to undo the clasps of her bra and time seemed to slow as the straps fell from her shoulders, the lave toppling to the floor altogether. 
 He swore he could feel his mouth water and never before this moment had he wanted something, or someone, more. He blinked up at her, following her gaze down to his lap and at his erection that stood tall, waiting for her, dripping with pre-cum. 
 Mike cocked an eyebrow, “you just gonna stand there or you gonna take it?” He asked, voice low and husky and fuck, she thought she’d drop dead right then and there. Still, this was a dangerous game they were playing. “What about Abby?” She whispered, glancing towards the hallway where Abby’s room was. “What if she wakes up?”
 Mike pressed his lips together and bucked his hips, raising a leg to softly give her calf a kick. “You can be quiet, right?” He murmured in question and she felt herself clench from his voice alone. Here Mike Schmidt was, cock out and erect, all because of her. This was something she had only dreamed of— never did she think that this would become reality. 
 Mike cocked his eyebrow again and she shook herself from her thoughts, taking his hand as he guided her back onto his lap. Her body shuddered and her bones rattled as she began to sink herself down, jolting when the tip brushed against her cunt, teeth sinking down into the plush of her bottom lip to contain her sounds. 
 “It’s okay,” Mike whispered. “I got you.”
 Her eyes about rolled in the back of her head at that as his hands kneaded at the flesh of either of her hips, guiding her further down his length, making sure to go agonizingly slow to ensure she felt every single fucking inch of cock inside of her. Tears brimmed the outskirts of her eyelids as she finally sat still on his lap, filled to the brim with cock. Mike let her head fall down against the curve of his shoulder, burying her nose into the crook of his neck as she allowed time to adjust to his size, simultaneously trying to keep her sounds to a minimum. 
 “You’re so tight,” Mike’s breath shuddered in her ear and his voice made goosebumps litter her skin, his fingertips like the icy breath of a ghost against her back. “You think you can handle moving now?” He asked in a whisper against the shell of her ear and she nodded, letting him grab her thighs and push her further up his cock until just the head remained. She cried against his neck when he sank her all the way back down his length, the lewd noise of their wet skin slapping together making her clench around him. “Fff… uuck,” he dragged his curse out as he snapped his hips up against her.
 “Shit!” She gasped as he thrusted again and again and again. And she let him. She let him use her in whatever way he pleased. 
 “Gonna be good for me?” He muttered next to her ear. “Gonna let me take care of you, hm?” She nodded, bobbing her head up and down against his shoulder as he snapped his hips up to hers again and again, daring the coil inside her belly to snap. “Think you can handle it?” He asked again and she nodded once more, crying and biting down on his collar. “Yes!” She cried, fortunately muffled against his skin. 
 So Mike thrusted again, harder and harder, chasing that high, that release he so desperately needed. He could tell she was close— it’d probably been so long since she’d been stuffed by cock like this. She’d probably been waiting for this moment just as long as he has. 
 With the pad of his thumb, he pressed down against her aching bud and Mike could feel a fresh new set of tears soak his skin as she cried, bucking her hips into his touch. His thrusts were as sloppy as they were powerful and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take. 
 “Mmm… Mike… I’m… I’m gonna…” she hardly managed to stutter out, slowly feeling the coil inside her stomach as it began to unravel. 
 “Yeah?” Mike said, his other hand wrapped around her neck and pushing her forehead down against his, gazing up at her closed eyelids. He rolled his head against hers, “look at me,” he breathed out and watched as she slowly fluttered her lids back open, just as more fat tears beaded down her cheeks. The sight was enough to get him to teeter on the edge himself. 
 “Gonna come?” He asked and she nodded, sweat-slicked forehead lolling against his. He nodded too, already feeling her release around him as she spawned around his cock, relying solely on him and his body to keep herself up. She buried her face in the crook of his neck again as she whined and cried, Mike’s thrusts speeding up as he gave himself that final push he needed to send himself reeling, spiraling and shaking with the force of his release. 
 “Fuck,” he growled into the skin just below her ear, squeezing his eyelids shut tighter as he willed himself to keep his sounds on the low, for the sake of his little sister sleeping just in the other room. 
 Silence fell over Mike and the babysitter for a good, long moment as they both recovered from their highs, chasing air back into their lungs as the realization of what they had just done began to sink in. Mike should be mortified— she was his sister’s babysitter, he doesn’t have time for this, she doesn’t deserve him, he shouldn't have done this. 
 But the woman in his lap settled herself closer into him, nuzzling her nose against the crook of his neck, her lips like a crescent moon against his skin as she placed a soft kiss to his flesh there. 
 “I hope you’re okay, Mike,” she whispered and he threw his head back, an arm thrown around her body as he stared up at the ceiling. How could he push her away now?
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a/n; so yeah!!! i watched fnaf on friday and it kinda sorta just brought back my whole josh hutcherson phase so enjoy!! this was just a quick little something i wrote up and there's like no plot at all and not proofread LMAO
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nanaslutt · 10 months
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okey so brainrot: this is RLLY WEIRD IM SORRY but the reader is like innocent/shy and doesn't really have any experiences regarding sex so like one day she asks satoru to "show her" how to touch herself but he demonstrates it on a fruit (like on an orange? peach? or smth like that) then things get heated😉. I DONT KNOW IF I EXPLAINED THIS WELL
Gojo teaching you to touch yourself on an orange.. and things escalate..
contains: fem reader, teasing, sexual tension, fingering, guided masturbation, experienced gojo, readers first orgasm, he talks you through it, 99% of this is dirty talk and nasty dialogue
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
*Ding* the sound of a video recording starting chimed from Gojo’ phone, “Okay okay, say that again for me?~” The white haired man cooed cockily.
“Gojo you asshole! Ugh, forget it, I was stupid to ask you.” You threw your arms up in defeat, rolling your eyes as you turned to walk out of his room, embarrassed.
“Noooonono,” he cried, the chime sounded again, ending the video, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t tease you like that~” The man was suddenly behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso and rocking you side to side, “Forgive me, I was wrong okayy~” he tried to reason, he really didn’t want to blow this.
After all, his cute little friend had just burst into his room and confessed that she had never touched herself before and was wanting some guidance; knowing gojo had some experience with women under his belt, you came to him for help.
“To make it up to you, I won’t even make you pay for this session how bout that?” he grinned behind you annoyingly, poking his head out to the side of you so you could see his expression through your peripheral vision.
“What are you some sex therapist?” you laughed, making him sigh in relief. “I’ll be anything you need me to be~” he wiggled his eyebrows, making you shrug his heavy body off of you in faux disgust.
“So, you a visual learner? or more hands on?” He asked when you turned your body to face him once more, letting him drag you so you were sitting on the end of his bed.
“I’m not uh.. really sure when it comes to this.” you confessed. “You’re not sure of much huh?” he teased, making you punch his shoulder lightly, “haha, you’ll know soon if you’re a hands on learner or not.” he said ambiguously.
But you trusted gojo with this for some reason..
..which might’ve been a mistake.
You did not anticipate how riled up this situation would get you. You’ve always found gojo attractive; who didn’t; but you came to him because nothing had ever happened between the two of you before, you were friends, you were sure the atmosphere wouldn’t feel so embarrassing but—
“This is your clit, you wanna make little circles on it like this with one or two fingers,” The white haired man spoke, currently holding half an orange in one hand, and rubbing tight circles onto the suggestive looking slit of the fruit with the other.
Gojo was sat in front of you on his chair while you sat on the bed, his legs spread as he held the fruit out in front of him and instructed you on it.
“Don’t wanna go too fast either, wanna work yourself up a bit.” He spoke, looking up at you every so often to make sure you were paying attention; this was important after all.
“If you start getting too needy, rub your fingers down here-“ he dragged his long digits down to the middle of the fruit, presumably where the opening to your pussy would be.
He rubbed his fingers on the outside of the slit, in a ‘come hither’ motion; not inserting his fingers; just caressing them on the outside, occasionally rubbing them back and forth over the opening.
“You paying attention?” he checked, snapping you out of your stupor as your eyes flitted up to his, you were hoping the blush on your face wasn’t as evident as it felt. You just gave a curt nod at his question, not trusting your voice to sound steady right now.
The longer and longer this went on, the needier and needier you we’re feeling between your own legs, a heat was growing between them and you were praying gojo hadn’t noticed that your legs were crossed not in comfort but because you had been steadily squeezing them together and rubbing your pussy against the rough denim stitch your jeans made for awhile now.
“Good, it gets a little more interesting now so make sure you’re paying attention.” he says, waiting for you nod again before he continued.
“This is your vaginal opening, this is where you would put your little fingers inside yourself when you masturbate.” he said, “or get fucked heh,” he adds vulgarly, making himself smile.
“Start with one finger, especially since you’ve never done anything here before right?” He asks, still nonchalantly rubbing his fingers against the slit while he waits for you to once again acknowledge his words; his piercing blue eyes staring bullets through you as he does so.
“Y-yeah.” You verbally answered, silently begging for him to continue. If you tried hard enough, you could almost feel him touching you like that instead of the stupid fruit, who you were unnecessarily jealous of at the moment.
“It’s gonna be tight, and it might not feel like much at first-“ You held your breath as he spoke, waiting for his next moves. Gojo looked down at the fruit, teasing a circle around the slit one last time before he pressed the tip of his finger into the center deeper and deeper, making juices spill out around it. “But a couple inches inside, there’s gonna be a little rough patch.” he tells you.
“A rough patch?” you repeat, confused. “Your g-spot.” he answered, “It’s gonna make you feel soo good.” he smirks, looking up at you from his ministrations on the fruit. “All you gotta do is ruuub~ like this-“ he demonstrates, massaging upwards inside the slit of the fruit, making vulgar squelching noises emanate around the room.
“It’ll even sound similar if you’re doing it right,” he adds, giggling to himself. “Can you do both?” you ask, hoping the breathlessness of your words wasn’t able to be picked up by Gojo’s ears.
He tilts his head to the side for a second, questioning what you mean before his eyes light up when he fully registers what you were asking, “Ohhh~ You want me to show you how to touch your clit and finger yourself at the same time?” he asked, a slightly mocking lilt to his voice.
“Oh I just- I wanted to know if it was possible..” you shyly clarified, looking away for a second, suddenly way too aware of his eyes on you.
“Aww~ of course it’s possible!” he beamed. You watched his thumb come up and pet the top of the slit of the orange, where your clit would be, and rubbed back and forth when his fingers thrusted out of the slit. “You can use two hands if this is too uncomfortable,” He adds.
“Most women cant cum unless you give ur little clit some attention, even with how good touching yourself inside can feel.” Gojo spoke.
“Have you ever-“ you gulped, “made someone cum from just the inside?” you asked, taking the brief pause he took to answer to add, “I-I just wanna know if it’s p-possible is all!”
“Oh yeah~” he answers in a heartbeat after your last sentence, “Even made a couple squirt from just the inside too.” he brags.
“Shit,” you accidentally mumble, not meaning to actually say that our loud, “What was that?” he asks, playing dumb when he mentally recorded the word that fell from your lips, making his ego swell.
“Oh n-nothing.” you brushed it off, waving your hand in front of yourself, urging him to continue his teachings. “Make sure when your fingers are inside that pump them in-“ he slowly drags his fingers out of the fruit, juices coating them, making you squeeze your legs together at the lewd image, “and out, that you also curl them inside at the same time.” he instructs.
“That’s how you’re gonna make your g-spot happy and get the most of your pleasure.” Gojo finishes.
Your mouth was completely dry at this point, leg bouncing in impatience, still subtly squeezing your thighs together for even the smallest bit of relief while you watched the juices drip down his lengthy fingers.
“Well that’s about it for the basics, I think you can go pretty far with what i’ve taught you, if you can remember it all.” He giggles, raising from the chair and moving to set the fruit on the table.
“Wait!” you say a little too loudly, hopping he didn’t sense the need in your voice, “Um.. I think I might be a hands on learner..” You confess, “I’m still a little confused..”
Gojo stops in his tracks, retracting his hand that’s holding the fruit back towards his body as a sinister smirk grows on his face. “Yeah?” he asks, cheering internally when you not coyly.
“Alright then, class is back in session!!” he throws his hands up, walking over to you.
When you think he’s going to sit back down in the chair he actually walks past it, and past you. You turn your head to see where he was going but your muscles freeze and tense up when you feel the bed dip behind you, followed by his strong chest pressing snugly against your back.
“This okay?” he asks before he continues, to which you nod. “Need to hear you say it, sweets.” You blush at the nickname, glad he can’t see your face like this, “Yes, this is okay.” you confirm softly.
“Alright, here” he holds the fruit out to you, and you take it in both your smaller hands. “I’m gonna walk you through it, that sound okay?” he checks, smiling to himself when you let out a meek ‘mhm.’
He pulls the both of you further back on the bed, so he’s resting comfortably upright against the bed frame, and you following suit against his chest. “Comfortable?” the while haired man whispers far too close to your ear.
“Y-yes,” you confirm once more, the hitch of your breath made him smile to himself.
“Okayy~ Ideally you would want to work yourself up by playing with your chest first,, slowly drag your fingers down your body, touch yourself over your pants and all that— but we only have an orange so this will have to do!” he says, not realizing (?) how hot his words were making you.
“Start by slowly touching your clit.” He spoke, as if you were really touching yourself right now. Your shaky fingers came down to find the top of the slit, rubbing one finger against where you guessed your clit would be, as he watched intently over your shoulder.
“Yeah, right there good job.” he praised, making you wish you were back to sitting on the bed with your legs crossed so you could squeeze them together. It would be a little too risky to try anything when he was so close to you, you bet he could hear your heartbeat beating out of your chest from how the two of you were squished together right now.
“A little faster now.” he instructed, licking his lips behind you as he felt your breath pick up when you drew faster circles against the fruit, wet ‘schlick’ noises echoing in your ears.
“Like this?” you asked, switching up the direction of the circles every so often, “Oh yeah, you’re a pro,” he giggled into your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine, “You sure you’ve never touched yourself before?”
“Well I have but it.. it didn’t feel like much.” you confessed, blushing at your own revealing words. “I see..” he ponders, cerulean eyes focused on your smaller fingers playing with the fruit.
“I have an idea, something that might help you understand a little better, if your open to it,” he pauses you, his big hand coming to stop your movements against the orange.
“Um, what is it?” you ask hesitantly. The white haired man leaned a little too close for comfort, making you whine out loud when he whispered, “You trust me?” into the shell of your ear.
Truthfully, Gojo had been hard from the moment you asked him to teach you how to touch yourself. Stealing glances at your thighs pressing together not so subtly when he was talking you through step by step how to pleasure yourself, watching you suck your lip into your mouth when his words became a little too dirty, how your breath picked up when he inserted his fingers into the slit of the fruit.
He was losing his mind, his patience was wearing increasingly thinner and thinner at your reactions, he knew exactly what he was doing to you, and your obliviousness was making his cock drip pre steadily into his boxers.
Thank god for his baggy sweater or you might’ve (100% would’ve) noticed the huge hard on he was sporting in his sweats. He was surprised you didn’t say anything when he was pressed against your back, assuming you were too enthralled and overwhelmed with what was going on to notice.
“I trust you.” you responded honestly, making his cock twitch against the fabric that confined it.
“I’m gonna touch this fruit just how I just showed you, and you’re going to mimic me, on yourself.” He whispered, his hot breath against the shell of your ear making you shiver.
“R-right here? now?” you asked clarifying his words, slight panic and embarrassment seeping into your tone. “I saw you rubbing your thighs together, you’re aching for it, right? What better time to practice getting off when you’re actually all worked up?” He made a good point, you’ve been wanting to touch yourself for half an hour now, you were sure you had completely soaked through your panties by this point.
You made a sound of embarrassment, eyes darting around the room at him having exposed you, “Awww heh, don’t be embarrassed, I’m in the same boat.” he confessed, trying to comfort you, “Been so hard since you asked me for help.”
His words did little to comfort you, making you even more flustered as you covered your eyes with the hand you weren’t holding the orange in, “Okay- just.. just do something, please.” you begged, not being able to take the throbbing between your own legs anymore.
“Okay okay, all you gotta do is follow my lead, kay?” he clarifies, grabbing your wrist and pulling off of your face so he could see your expression from the side. When he heard you let out a meek ‘okay’ he reached for the orange and set it down on the bed for a moment.
“Go ahead and take off your pants for me,, leave your panties on.” Came Gojo’s first instructions. You followed, leaning forward and away from his chest, your fingers worked quickly at undoing your button and zipper, sliding your fingers underneath the waistband as you pulled the garment off your body, revealing your soft-looking skin to Gojos eyes.
When you leaned back against him he dragged the tips of his fingers along your thighs, his assumption of your soft skin becoming true as he dragged his digits all the way up to your hips, gripping your waist for a moment before he complimented, “So fucking soft.”
“Spread your legs pretty,” His soothing voice told you, staring intently between your legs, wishing he had a better view, but after this little scene he had high hopes he would have no problem getting a closer look at you.
You did as you were told, you parted your knees, feet propped up on the bed as you waited with bated breath for his next instruction, feeling yourself throb behind the drenched fabric.
He reached for the fruit again, holding it with both hands in front of you, as he started tapping with one long finger on the ‘clit’ of the orange. When you didn’t move your own finger to repeat him he pats your pelvis lightly with his hand, “I know i’m addicting to watch, but you gotta touch yourself too.” He laughs, making you snap out of your stupor as you forgot you were supposed to be mimicking him.
“S-sorry, do it again.” you request, really focusing on his fingers against the fruit this time while you started sliding your own fingers inside your panties.
“Uh-uh” he warned, his voice alone stopping your hand in its tracks, “Over your panties, I’ll tell you when to touch yourself directly, I’ll take care of everything.” He explains, leaving a small peck against the side of your head.
“Alright, just pay attention that’s all you gotta do.” Gojo starts up again, tapping his fingers on the fruit and this time you follow him, tapping your finger over your wet panties, right against your clit.
The little stimulation alone was so intense, after being worked up for so long this relief was much needed. “Feels good to touch yourself after being so horny huh?” He spoke, like he was reading your mind.
‘Mhm’ you respond, letting your body relax against him, your head coming back to lay against his chest as you let yourself feel what he was allowing you to.
“I bet it does..” Gojo smirks, looking at your lithe shaky fingers tapping softly against your clothed mound. After a couple of seconds he decided to press against the fruit, starting up the small circles, “lightly.” He reminded.
You followed suit, the circles felt worlds better than the tapping, the consistent pressure and pattern was making you dizzy. The first actual whimper of the night left your lips and it made Gojo’s cock twitch in his pants.
He cooed at you when you squeezed your eyes shut, mouth dropping open in a small o shape while you continued your ministrations, “Cant follow directions with your eyes shut can you? Or you got some kinda super power I’m unaware of~?” he joked, making you crack your eyes open and look at his fingers again.
You noticed he had picked up his pace, you were unsure of when he did but you were happy you noticed now. You were appreciative at getting to touch yourself but were growing needy with the slow pace of his fingers. “F-fuck.” You gasped out, your hips bucking into your finger as you quickened the movement.
“Talk to me, how’s it feel.” Gojo was growing impatient himself, he loved teasing you and he knew he should take this slow especially since it was your fist time touching yourself properly— but the thought of pressing your back down into a mean arch while he just pulled your panties aside and fucked his cock into you at the hilt was constantly in the back of his mind.
He loved teasing his sex partners, but he’s never done anything like this before. Taking it this slow and instructing someone like this was new to him. It was so intimate, and so soft, and his dick really fucking liked it.
“F-feels so good, I- I wanna take my panties off.” you confessed, your ass bumping against his hard on every time your hips humped against your finger. “Yeah? Wanna touch your wet pussy directly?” He spoke, biting his lip as he held back a groan.
“Yes-yes- please..” You begged, the way he was talking was making your need to have something inside you— to feel more—so much worse.
“Soon, I promise.” He said, rubbing his long fingers against the slid of the fruit, making quiet squelching noises as he ran his finger up and down the length of it. He smiled to himself when you listened quicker this time, you were catching on.
You rubbed two fingers over the length of your pussy, moaning when he stopped his movements and pressed on and off against the hole of the fruit, where the opening of your pussy would be.
You repeated the action, feeling the fabric of your wet panties get pushed against the entrance of your little hole, “I cant tell if those sounds are you, or the fruit.” Gojo laughed breathlessly, becoming dizzy at the squelching that became louder and louder in his ears.
“Gojo..” you wined needily into the air. “Okay, okay,” His resolve cracked much faster than it normally would’ve. He knew he was the one in control right now but it felt like you had him on a leash, controlling his every move. Just a couple of wines from you was enough to make him fold, giving in to what you wanted.
He grinned watching you hastily remove your panties and spreading your legs once more, being so obedient by not immediately touching yourself and instead digging your nails into your thighs and waiting for his fingers to move against the orange.
He wanted to see how long you could hold out, but his dick and head alike were yelling at him to move his own fingers so he could watch you touch yourself, so that’s exactly what he did. Using two long fingers he rubbed hard circles again the fruit, his giggles shaking your body when you jumped into action with no hesitation, rubbing and pinching your clit between your fingers as you slid them back and forth, spelling letters and drawing shapes on it— whatever gojo did, you did.
“Fuck Gojo, this feels so good-“ you moaned, fighting the urge to let your head fall back as you felt an unfamiliar coil tighten itself in your tummy.
“I know baby I know.” His voice spoke with need, taking all four of his fingers and smacking them against the entire fruit, just so you would repeat him so he could hear how wet you were. “Oh shiit, you’re fucking drenched.” He groaned, his eyes briefly rolling back into his head before he started rubbing little circles again.
“This turning you on? huh?” He spoke, “You like when I show you how to treat your little pussy?” His words made you moan, going off of his instruction and quickening the pace of your fingers against yourself, “I know you wanna cum but you gotta slow down, I didn’t speed up my fingers so you don’t get to either~” Gojo reminded.
Being the obedient girl you were, you slowed your fingers down, “Sorry, ‘m sorry,” you apologized profusely, “It’s alright,” He smiled, “It just feels so good huh?” Again, it was like he was reading your mind.
“So good, s-so so good.” you whine. “Let’s make you feel ever better, huh?” Gojo spoke against your ear, his breathy laugh tickling your skin. He dragged his fingers down to the slit of the fruit, just teasing the entrance, watching your fingers do the same.
“I cant go as deep on my model here, but when I put them inside, I want you to go deep okay?” He said. “Okay, okay.” You rush, anxious but excited to have something inside of you.
“Good girl, such a good listener.” He praised, making your cunt clench around nothing. “Okay, here we go~” Gojo slowly pushed a single finger into the fruit, his jaw dropping with a smile when he watched your smaller finger insert itself into your walls.
“Yeahhh, how does that feel?” He asks, his cock dripping out more pre into his boxers, throbbing and twitching against its confines. “Fuck.. ‘s tight.” you whine, making him groan into the air.
“Yeah? Can you feel yourself twitching?” Gojo is trying to pull as many details out of you as he can, his cock was aching for it. “Y-yes, so much- ngh-“ you choke on a moan when you start to slide your finger it in and out, following Gojo’s lead.
“Remember to curl your finger twords the top of your tummy when you put it inside,” He instructs, watching your body jolt when you follow his instruction. “Oh fu-“ you cut yourself off with a breathless moan when you feel it— your gspot.
You’ve never felt anything like this before, it almost felt more intense than touching your clit, but drastically different, you didn’t know what part was your favorite— you were becoming enthralled with your own body.
“Fuck it- it feels so good Gojo-“ you whine, turning your head against his chest so you’re making eye contact with him. “I know baby I knoww~” He cooes down at you, shaking his head.
“Put another finger when you can take it, it’ll feel so much better.” he reveals, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth while he waited with bated breath as you pulled out your finger, covered in your juices— which made him grown— before you reinserted it, this time with your ring finger joining in tandem.
“Ohmygod-“ you cry, “It’s s-so much tighter gojo-“ you looked back down at his fingers, mimicking his increasingly rough pace as he looses his mind a bit at your use of his last name.
“Satoru baby, call me satoru.” He desperately needed to hear you say his name properly, every cell in his body was aching for it. “Sa-toru! Toru fuck!” you whine. His eyes roll back, his head falling suit and bumping against the headboard at his name leaving your lips.
“Yeah, keep saying my name sweet thing,” he groaned, not able to stop himself from humping against your lower back any longer, the air around you becoming increasingly thicker at how aroused the two of you were becoming.
Suddenly something snapped inside Gojo and he discarded the orange on the floor, wrapping one strong arm around your torso while he brought his juice soaked fingers to your lips, tapping them for you to open up for him.
“Yesss, good fucking girl, don’t stop your fingers- fuckkk-“ The white haired man groaned when your tongue eagerly licked around his fingers, he groaned at the warmth of your mouth, pushing his fingers as far as you would let him into your mouth, coughing a bit around them when they tickled the back of your throat.
“Play with your clit too sweetie, wanna see you cum all over your fingers.” He directed, keeping his fingers snug in your mouth as you moaned and whined around them, his other hand gripping the side of your waist strong enough to leave bruises as your other hand joined the mix on your pussy, rubbing quick circles with perfect pressure right against your clit.
“Fuck, you feel it? You gonna cum?” He groaned when your body jerked more frequently, breath coming in shorter pants as well, a sign of your impending orgasm.
You nodded against him, moaning around his fingers as you quickened your thrusts, the squelching emanating louder in the room as your juices started pooling around your fingers.
“Yesyesyes, take it, keep rubbing your clit just like that, fuck-“ Gojo felt like he was about to cum himself, lightheaded and entranced at the scene in front of him— watching you please yourself so eagerly. He couldn’t believe he was about to witness your first ever orgasm, something he only ever dreamed about.
You tried to speak his name around his fingers, warning him you were about to cum but it came out muffled. He removed his fingers from your mouth, grabbing your jaw with the same hand, and smearing your spit messily against your skin— he directed your head to look between your legs.
“Watch yourself cum baby, want you to take it all in, remember how fucking good this feels.” He instructed, as you whined and moaned his name freely into the room.
“Toru- I- I think i’m cumming!! fuck-“ you cried, squeezing your eyes shut as the dam broke.
“Oh yesyesyes- there you fucking go~ good fucking girl~” He talked you through it as you came all over your fingers— cum gushing out around them as your cunt pulsed around your digits, body jerking in on itself after every wave of your high, your legs and hands shaking at the intensity.
You panted as you came down from your first ever orgasm, barely registering that Gojo was praising you as your mind felt fuzzy, you were feeling complete bliss, you couldn’t believe it took you so long to finally do this— you were addicted.
“Satoru- ngh-“ you whined in sensitivity as you slowly pulled out your fingers, holding your soaked digits up into the air and blushing at how they shined in the light with how wet they were.
Gojo reached for your wrist, shamelessly bringing your hand to his mouth as he sucked your fingers into his mouth, moaning and eyes rolling back at the taste. Your face blushed increasingly darker at his antics, clenching your thighs at how his soft tongue felt cleaning off your fingers.
After he popped them out of his mouth a dopey grin made itself home on his face, “So fucking sweet too.” he praised, licking his lips to clean up any drop of your juices he might’ve missed.
Gojo squeezed his arm around you tighter, gripping your face once more as he made you turn your head more directly towards him before he spoke again, “Wanna learn how to touch a dick next?”
pt. 2 here
8K notes · View notes
jamminvroomvroom · 7 months
Text
no more mister shy guy.
OP x fem!reader
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in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you
i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3
songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff
2.8k words
you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.
oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.
he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.
oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.
it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.
but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.
“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.
“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.
oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.
you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.
“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.
“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.
panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.
“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”
“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”
“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.
you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.
your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.
“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.
“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”
oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.
he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.
“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”
the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.
“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.
“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.
painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.
he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.
“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.
you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.
you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.
you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.
his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.
“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.
he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.
“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.
“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.
“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.
oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.
“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.
“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.
“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.
his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.
“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.
oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.
“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.
“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.
“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.
“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.
oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.
“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.
“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.
“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.
the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.
“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.
“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.
he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.
thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.
“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.
you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.
“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.
“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.
“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.
“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.
“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.
“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”
“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.
“there he is.” you sigh happily.
when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.
-
whoops? lol
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4K notes · View notes
cloudystevie · 7 months
Text
scary my god you're divine
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pairing || bucky barnes x f!reader
word count || 3235
summary || he would do anything for you.
warnings || smut! dom! bucky x sub! reader, possessive! bucky, a little bit of subspace, choking, little bit of exhibitionism kink, minor pain play, daddy kink (only three times okay i'm sorry i am who i am), degradation, unprotected sex
author's note || 18+ ONLY. not proofread yet. my very first request in a very long time! Anonymous asked: Could you write a Dombucky x Subreader? And if you wouldn't mind jealous!bucky, already established relationship and his dog tags on reader? hope you enjoy nonnie! as always feel free to send in requests or any asks! feel free to reblog! enjoy!
»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««
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Today, a select few from the team are supposed to train the new agents, preparing them for the physical aspect of being an agent. Some made it fun or tolerable, like Steve and Sam, who were born leaders and charismatic. Natasha and Wanda enjoyed supervising the sparring sessions. Tony and Bruce enjoyed using technology to throw new obstacles at the agents.
Sometimes literally.
Unfortunately, your grumpy boyfriend, Bucky, just did not find any joy in training days. He didn’t like giving out instructions and praise unless it was you who was under him. He didn’t like supervising weak punches and miscalculated throws. And technology was just a straight-up no for him.
Usually, he could make himself useful with Steve, throwing out no-nonsense orders without making himself a massive part of the effort.
You were taking the elevator down to the gym floor. Fury had instructed you to check everything out and ensure everything went according to the itinerary. 
The doors open, and you glance around to ensure no immediate problems before letting your gaze fall on Bucky; his eyes are already on you. You offer him a bright smile, which he returns with a smirk, and your stomach flutters like it does every time you see him. You’re about 7 feet away from your boyfriend before you feel a hand on your lower back. You startle and turn around to face the newest agent. He has quickly climbed through all of SHIELD’s tests and proven himself to be of great value. He chatted you up last week at Tony’s charity ball, and you tried to let him down gently since you were already happily taken. Bucky was on a mission that day, and you didn’t want to add to his mental load by telling him about some punk who wouldn’t leave you alone.
Apparently, said punk, cannot take no for an answer.
“Back for more, cutie? You finally break up with your imaginary boyfriend?” Marcus teases, but really, he sounds more taunting than playful. You glance over your shoulder as you move away from his grip, and you already see Bucky glaring directly at the spot where Marcus’ hand was on your back. The stopwatch he was holding in his flesh hand shatters, and he doesn’t even flinch when Steve and Sam apologize for him, asking what was wrong as discreetly as they could but one glance over to where you were uncomfortably held hostage by the lean brunet man told them everything they needed to know. 
Bucky cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders up as he stalks towards you two. His looming presence is felt before you can see him in your peripheral vision. You glance up at him and take an instinctive step back toward his hulking body, breathing a sigh of relief because Marcus has to let up now.
He doesn’t.
“Oh hey, Sergeant Barnes, if you don’t mind I’m actually trying to talk to this chick so…” 
The way he talks about you as if you’re not right there makes you physically recoil. Bucky’s eyes harden; he’s not even squaring up to his full stature, and he already easily dwarfs Marcus. Bucky takes a step forward, and everyone in the room comes to a standstill. Everyone shuddering at the sheer anger rolling off of Bucky and the stupidity of Marcus.
Marcus huffs out a laugh. Maybe he gets a little pasty when he’s nervous because he seems to be digging himself a deeper hole when he says something about how many girls fall at his feet and Sarge, you've got to calm down. She’s not worth all that.
In an instant, Steve and Sam command everyone to return to their tasks, and the room begins to bustle again, but with a specific weary energy that was not there before. The very next second, Marcus is picked up by the collar of his black t-shirt and slammed against the wall, the room rattling with the force of it as all the recruits try to ignore the spectacle before them. 
“Touch her again, and I will kill you,” Bucky promises. “If you look at her, I will kill you. If you even think about her, I will fucking kill you. Understand?” His voice is a low grumble, the words resounding and reverberating as you watch Marcus sputter out panicked apologies and his flailing body while Bucky still looks so self-assured and composed. It's as if he’s not scaring a man to death while simultaneously making you drool.
You call out Bucky’s name, and he looks at you over his shoulder, pinning Marcus with one final glare and shove before letting him go as the agent does the walk of shame to the washroom. It’s almost like you’re frozen in your spot. You’ve seen Bucky get aggressive on missions before, but watching him be so willing to defend you, stand up for you when you couldn’t, not even hesitating for a second when he threatened to kill for you. And the worst part is, you were confident he was dead serious. 
Even worse, something about the principle of the situation was really doing it for you.
On the outside, it might have seemed like you were in shock or panic due to the agents’ actions, so Bucky whisked you away to a private interrogation room on the floor above the gym. The whole elevator ride there, his hand is protectively on your lower back, and you just watch the rigid set of his jaw and the anger and possessiveness written all over his features with unmistakable doe eyes. The air in the elevator is thick, and neither of you says a word. Before you know it, Bucky is easily lifting you and placing you on the metal table in the middle of the dull room, and his eyes are scanning yours for any hint of panic or if you’re upset. His hands cup your face gently, the cool vibranium soothing against your heated skin, and he finally breaks the silence. “You’ve gotta say something, baby. Are you okay? After this, that idiot’s going to be gone. I’m sorry if seeing me like that upset you, sweetheart-” Your rushed words cut off his ramble, “I thought that was really hot.” You say quietly and watch as Bucky’s face contorts from one of worry to one of confusion. 
“The way you stood up for me, you were so nonchalant about killing for me. I can’t lie, James. That kind of did something for me.” You continue, biting your lip and scanning him for his reaction, hoping he didn’t take your words in the wrong way. 
He’s silent for a moment. His chest moving steadily with each breath against yours. 
The next moment, his lips are pressed against yours, and you let a surprised squeak out. Your mouth slots open when his wandering hands roughly squeeze your thigh through your satin pants, getting dangerously close to the heat pulsing between your thighs. Taking advantage of your open mouth, Bucky slips his tongue inside your mouth and you buck your hips to seek some friction against your needy core. The kiss is passionate and renders your breathless as he consumes all of your senses. All you can think, see, smell, hear, and feel is James. 
His name falls from your lips in a gasp, you reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, letting your head lull to the side when he peppers sloppy kisses all over your jaw, trailing down your neck and biting and licking on your sweet spot. You swat at his firm bicep, “You’re gonna leave a mark James, stop it.” Your attempt at scolding him is weak, even to your own ears.
You feel Bucky smirk against your sensitive neck, his wandering hands cupping your ass and shamelessly groping and swatting at you. “Oh really? That’s too bad baby. Gonna be a pain to cover up.” He remarks, voice dripping in cockiness.
You scoff and bite back a whimper when he grinds his undoubtedly hard length against your clothed center. Your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself by holding onto his shoulders, a shiver crawling up your spine when a particularly slow grind nudges your aching clit. “You’re such a bad influence you know that?” Your voice lacks any real conviction. Your hips move in tandem with his, both of you sharing messy kisses and your bodies thrumming with lust and pent up energy. 
“I’ll kill anyone who even thinks about looking at you.” Bucky says assuredly, and you can’t help the mewl that escapes your lips at his words. Your hands shakily going to undo his black jeans as he messily pulls yours pants down, being considerate enough not to rip them considering there was still a little more than an hour until the SHIELD training day was over. “Bucky I need you, need you to please-” Your voice is shaky and desperate, as you struggle to unbutton his jeans. He shushes you gently, cooing at you sweetly as he easily unbuttons his jeans, just enough for you to promptly pull out his erect cock. Your mouth practically waters at his length and girth, and you spit onto your hand and begin rubbing his length, swiping your thumb gently over the tip making him hiss and push his hips into your hand. 
You bite your lip and look up at him through hooded eyes, and he slaps your hand away before tearing your panties in half, the top half covering your swollen clit and the bottom scrap of fabric falling limply against the cool table. You barely have time to scold him for ripping your panties before he’s shoving his whole length inside you in one fluid thrust. Your back arches, your legs wrapping around his waist as your buddy erupts in a shiver, a short scream escaping your lips. He swallows the noise with his mouth pressed against yours as he grunts into your mouth, waiting only a short second before he begins to thrust inside you. His thrusts are slow but hard, making the heavy metal table scrape against the floor with the force of each pass of his hips into yours. 
“You’re mine, mine to touch. Mine to have. Mine to take care of.” Bucky grunts out, his movements picking up in pace as emotion swirls in his voice, his metal hand covering your neck, forcing you to stay upright in a position that allowed you to feel all of him. You sob out, digging your nails into his bicep and nodding your head, already succumbing to that foggy feeling you felt when you were so close to your boyfriend. He tuts at you, swatting your face with his flesh hand with enough force to make you moan out and clench around his length. 
“Nuh-uh sweetheart, you’re not going dumb on me that quick. Use your words, tell me you’re mine. Tell me I’m yours.” His voice is commanding and you force yourself to look at him, pulling on his shirt and tugging on his dog tugs to get him closer, your foreheads pressing against each other as his thrusts continue to get faster. “I’m yours James, only yours. You’re only mine. No one else. Just you.” Your words are slurred as he groans out a good girl in approval and decides that he wants your shirt off. He skillfully manages to slip your navy blue long-sleeve off and unhooks your bra in one motion, freeing your tits to the cold air of the room, forcing the buds into sensitive peaks which Bucky is quick to take advantage of. His hands squeeze and pull at your tits, tugging and pinching cruelly at your nipples making you whine. 
Your bodies are pressed so close to one another, each pull of his hips making his pelvis rub against your aching clit, stray tears streaming down your face and your chest heaving and pushed up against Bucky.
If anyone were to walk in right now the picture would be nothing short of debauched. You completely bare on the table, Bucky completely clothed. Getting absolutely plowed if the screech of the metal against the floor was anything to go by. Your moans get higher in pitch and volume making Bucky grunt, another swat to your cheek making your brain foggy. “Shut the fuck up slut. You want everyone to see you getting fucked like the bitch in heat you are?” But if your moans and increasing wetness are anything to go by, yes, a deep and dark part of you does want that. Bucky laughs at you, shaking his head in faux disbelief and you wrap your lips around his dog tags, enjoying the soothing sensation brought by the cool metal. Bucky looks down at your lips wrapped around the dog tags he never seemed to take off and he let out a wrecked sound. You clench around him at the sound making his rhythm falter.
Before you can even process the loss of his proximity, your back is flat against the table and his dog tags are now around your neck, landing on your chest and glimmering in the dull fluorescent lighting of the room. Bucky slams himself back inside of you, the unmistakable squelch of your wetness filling up the room alongside both of your noises of pleasure. Your high-pitched and pornographic mewls and his low grunts and deep groans. You cry out his name as your head lulls to the side, eyes shutting in bliss as your fingers move to give your aching clit some attention. But Bucky lets out a disappointed grunt, grabbing your jaw in his hand and forcing you to maintain eye contact. “Look away from me again and I won’t let you cum for a fucking week stupid baby.” Bucky threatens. “You better fucking pay attention to who’s fucking you dumb. No need to close your eyes and imagine when you’ve got the real thing right here.”
Each of his words ignites a newfound purpose in Bucky as he pounds into you impossibly harder, his hand swatting against your cheek again and wrapping around your neck, keeping you in place to take all of his thrusts. He knows you always struggle to keep your eyes open and you don’t doubt that he will follow through on his threat. He has always enjoyed testing your weakness and pushing your limits. 
“Feels s’good. You’re so big Jamie. S’big, so good s’too good.” Your words are breathy and frail, your fingers rubbing quick circles around your aching button. A mean laugh rumbles in his chest as he watches the way his dog tags move with your tits, the sight is intoxicating and fuels Bucky to continue his torment. “There she is my dumb little baby. Couldn’t help yourself huh? Can’t help the way your brain goes quiet when I have my dick inside you.” His words should be humiliating but they only spur you on, your fingers on the verge of cramping but the jolts of pleasure are so overwhelming you can’t stop. “Jus’ need you. Need you to make it better. ‘M yours Daddy, only yours.” 
“That’s it baby, I know, I know it feels so good huh. Daddy’s here baby, Daddy’s gonna take care of his needy baby.” Bucky’s head falls back on a moan when you clench around him, your walls pulsing and a ring of cream forming around the base of his cock. Your orgasm was surely just a few moments away and Bucky’s lips curled up in a smirk.
He folds your legs at the knee, sliding you closer to him with the pressure he has on your throat, the angle making him rub against your sweet spot with each deliriously pleasurable thrust. You squeal out his name, getting even louder than before and he shoves his dog tags into your mouth, muffling your garble out unintelligeble pleads to cum. With one hand Bucky squeezes your throat, and with the other he pinches at your nipples, tugging the sensitive flesh before trailing his hand down your body and slapping your hand away from your clit, he moves his lips down to your ears, licking up your earlobe before whispering his command, “Cum. Cum right fucking now or you don’t get to cum at all.” His fingers pinch your clit and the sudden burst of pain has you tensing your legs up, squealing out nonsense around the dog tags in your mouth and reaching your peak. Your body shakes against the table as Bucky pounds you through your high, his words of encouragement falling on deaf ears as you teeter between consciousness and unconsciouness. His body overwhelming your mind and soul. 
His fingers release your throat and you look up at him with watery eyes, bringing him down to rest your foreheads against each other as he nears his own high. Your lips are pressing against each other, “There isn’t a single person in the world I wouldn’t kill for you. I would do anything for you. You are everything to me.” Bucky murmurs in a pussy-drunk stupor. But the words are true, he has said them to you before and will say them a thousand times again. You taught him how to live again, not just survive. 
A broken cry falls from your lips from sensitivity and Bucky’s impassioned thrusts turn sloppy as he moans out your name, pulling you impossibly closer as he fills you with his cum. At the feeling of being completely stuffed by him, your second release is triggered and you shake in his hold as he comes down from his high. He presses lazy kisses against your lips and rubs his hands soothingly up and down your body, easing you out of your submissive state. He gently pulls himself out, using the handkerchief he carries around to wipe your thighs clean, but letting his cum keep your pussy messy. He quickly wipes himself off and helps you dress yourself. 
A few more giggly kisses and you’re pretty much ready to go back down to the gym. Just in time to catch the final thing on today’s agenda: sparring. Bucky walks one step behind you, his hand back again on your lower back protectively as a path is cleared to the front of the ring where your friends are supervising Marcus and another recruit preparing for the second round of their match. Natasha and Wanda offer you knowing smirks and you roll your eyes with heat creeping up cheeks as you shyly glance up at Bucky through your eyelashes to find him already looking at you with a stupid smile. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek and watches with intent as Steve and Sam coach their respective agents. 
“Looking strong, Marcus!” Bucky calls out and you swat his chest making him laugh. Marcus takes one look at you, Bucky’s dog tags now around your neck and falling on your shirt, teeth imprints on your neck, and swollen lips. Poor Marcus falters, and the other recruit takes advantage of his distraction and easily tackles him to the ground, winning the second round. Bucky takes a single step closer to the ring where Sam is helping Marcus up, and the smirk on your arrogant boyfriend’s face is adorable. “Better luck next time buddy,” he says supportively. Sam flicks Bucky in the forehead, unable to hide the smile on his face, “Dumbass.”
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stunie · 2 months
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“YOU CRAZY? I HAVE A BOYFRIEND!”
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WIND BREAKER + YOU NOT RECOGNIZING THEM. ft. hayato suo, kaji ren, togame jo, & umemiya hajime x f!reader
filled request : a chunk of it -> “..reacting to drunk reader not recognizing them and they wanna take reader home but reader won’t let them and tells them to fuck off or else her boyfriend (which is right infront of her) will kick their ass..”
notes : aa ! ! i am also a sucker for plots like these !! sorry it took me a while to get to >: thank u sm for sending this in nonnie <3 (cw alcohol ; but the consumption isn’t really mentioned in this)
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HAYATO SUO.
“don’t you dare touch me,” suo’s eyes widen when you’re clumsily swatting at his hand, half lidded eyes narrowing into your best attempt at a glare. your words are slow and slurred, but he still manages to understand the gist of what you’re trying to say. “my boyfriend’s gonna make you pay if you do,” you huff, pointing an accusatory finger at him and jabbing it a couple times into his chest for extra measure.
“oh?” his gaze softens a bit, unbeknownst to you, and his smile is back the second he understands what’s happening here. “your boyfriend? where is he now?”
the way your glare immediately falls at your realization almost makes him feel bad, and he’s giving you a smile of pity when your lips tug into a deep pout. “um…” you frown, eyebrows furrowing to rid of the tears already starting to blur your vision, “i don’t know…”
“you don’t know?” suo’s voice is steady, easily hiding the way he’s stifling a laugh at the sudden change in your demeanor. he’s watching with amusement as you start to sniff, hands coming to messily wipe at your eyes with your sleeve as you start babbling, spewing out things about how “you need to find your boyfriend right this second” and how you’re “all lonely now.”
“oh dear,” he chuckles, hands coming to lightly grasp around your wrists, “your boyfriend has told you not to wipe your eyes like that before, hasn’t he? you’re going to irritate the skin.”
“mhm,” you give him a shy nod before staring up at him with confusion, gaze flickering to the thumb he’s bringing to gently swipe at the tears collecting along your lashes a moment later. the way you’re stiffening up at his touch is cute— and it looks like you’ve unconsciously recognized his familiarity even in this state.
“y-you know my boyfriend?”
how endearing.
“sure. i know him pretty well,” suo smiles, hand coming to press against your lower back as you guides you forward, “so let’s find him, okay? come with me.”
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KAJI REN.
“huh?” you’ve got kaji completely petrified, eyes blown open as his hands defensively shoot up in front of him the second you’re slowly waving your pepper spray back and forth— the pepper spray he had bought you, by the way. “what do you think you’re doing?”
“i’ll tell you exactly what im doing,” you retort, eyes narrowing at the alleged unfamiliar man in front of you, “i’m gonna call my boyfriend here, and he’s gonna beat your ass if you don’t leave in the next five seconds.”
ah. the slur in your voice is all it takes for the situation to suddenly click in his head. and now that he’s looking at you closer up, he’s surprised that you’re even able to stand in such a state. you’ve only come here with him, so the only way you’ll be going home is if he takes you home.
and that’s not looking very plausible right now.
he’s clicking his tongue before ripping through another lollipop, raking his fingers through his hair as he goes through the potential routes he can go with this. how the fuck was he gonna bring you home like this..? and actually, how would it make him look if people see him forcefully tossing you onto his back and booking it home?
this was a terrible situation through and through.
“um— come here,” he tries coaxing you the way he would with a stray animal, fingers coming to hesitantly pinch your sleeve to lift your arm without technically touching you, and he’s slowly moving it a couple inches to the right. “i’m your boyfriend. let’s go home.”
you shake your head.
his cheeks are flushing red when he realizes there are onlookers now, a handful of people watching the situation unfold, and you’re not helping his case at all— arms crossed across your chest as you eye him up and down suspiciously.
“c-candy,” he grumbles under his breath, deep red spreading to the tips of his ears. “i’ll give you a piece of candy if you come with me. sound good?”
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TOGAME JO.
“m-my boyfriend can fight, you know” you stumble backwards, slowly backing up until your back meets with one of the tables, and it’s just great. you’re completely trapped now. he’s looming over you the next second, big hands resting on either side of you as you try to steady your breathing.
togame will be here any minute, you’re reminding yourself. this is fine.
“that so?” there’s a low chuckle from him, and he’s feigning innocence, looking around to locate this boyfriend of yours. “i don’t see him anywhere.”
your breath catches in your throat. your vision’s still dizzy, world spinning each and every time you move your head, and you search around your hips, internally cursing when you realize your purse is gone too.
no phone, and no boyfriend.
he’s moving awfully close to you now, and you can’t move— can’t call your boyfriend. “y-yeah,” you manage to stammer, thinking hard as you decide what to do. “he even taught me how to fight… so don’t test me.”
now that’s a bluff.
“oh. did he now?” togame’s brow raises at your threat, trying to resist the urge to laugh when you’re quickly nodding the next second, cute hands balling into little fists— and oh, that’s not quite how you’re supposed to do it.
but he’ll teach you another time. “so… in that case… you know what to do when a guy does— this?” his fingers wrap around your wrist before you can get a word out, pulling you forward in one swift movement.
you’re gasping as soon as you fall forward, crashing straight into his chest, and his arms are quick to wrap around you, big hand coming to pat at your head like a dog.
“oh, how weird. i didn’t think he’d teach you to hug other guys.”
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UMEMIYA HAJIME. cw : he jokingly refers to himself as your kidnapper (he did not kidnap you)
“what now, haji?” your eyes narrow at the phone screen being shoved an inch in front of your face, and ume’s gone puppy mode beside you, excitedly rocking back and forth on your bed as he waits for you to hit play.
“just watch! you’ll see. press play.”
you rub at your eyes, wincing at the way your head starts to throb, still pounding from the events of yesterday. the video that plays out in front of you is completely dark for the first seconds, and you’re quick to grow impatient— seconds away from huffing and pushing his phone away until you finally hear a rustling, followed your own voice.
“haji’s gonna make you pay,” you cringe at the sound of your own voice, and there’s a loud sniffle that follows. “so take me wherever you want, ya goof. he’ll really make you regret it when he finds me.”
no way.
“‘haji’ huh!” you hear umemiya burst into a laughing fit, your face burning at the way he’s poking fun at your past self, and you hear your drunken self scoffing at him a second after. “so what kinda guy is he, huh? your kidnapper’s gotta know!”
there was absolutely no way he recorded himself carrying you home.
“he’s huuge,” the video catches your hiccup, “he can toss you around like nothing. i’m warning you now. so you can put me down if you get it.”
from the muffled sound of your voice, you think ume probably had you tossed over his shoulder, a strong arm wrapped around the back of your thighs to keep you draped over him. “that so?” he chuckles, “what’s he look like?”
“i can’t believe you,” you sigh, fingers rubbing at your temples, “you’re unbelievable.” you’re sneaking a quick glance at your boyfriend, but he’s still focused on the video, soft smile tugging at his lips. “keep listening, ‘kay baby? this is my favorite part.”
uh oh.
“he’s the prettiest boy ever!” your cheeks are immediately filling with heat at your shameless confession, hand slamming over your mouth— there was absolutely no way. “you wouldn’t believe it. you’ll know when you see ‘im. he’s gorgeous. beautiful. i looove him! don’t fall in love with my boyfriend— you better not. he’s mine.”
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DPXDC IDEA:
Ok so, angst. Dead on main, and demon SIBLINGS not twins. Soulmate AU where only you know the name of your soulmate and it is guarded jealously.
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Danyal is the 1st son of Bruce and Talia was deemed too much like his father, so they had Damian to replace him as the true heir, Danny became his guard.
Danny dies protecting Damian in an attack on the league, before he dies he tells Damian the name of his soul mate and asks him to give him his love if he ever finds him and tell him sorry he couldn't be there.
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Danyal gasps through the hole in his lung, blood pours out of him. But he did it. He did his job. Damian was safe. He killed all the intruders after him.
He drags his feet toward Damian room, he has to be sure he's ok, then he can rest. Alarm bells ring in the back of his head, soft and incessant. Danyal ignores them.
Pain pulses from the many punctures and slices on his body but he makes it. He pushes the door open.
"Ahki!" A small voice cries out, Damian only seven looks terrified. He rushes over and Danyal looses the fight with his body to keep upright. He collapses in the middle of the room with Damian supporting his head.
"Ahki?! Please we need to get you to the medics or or the Pit! You've lost so much blood." Small hands press on his wounds trying to staunch the bleeding.
Danyal suddenly realizes he's dying. The blood loss and what he now realizes is poison are extensive. He's not going to make it. Mother won't waste the Pit on a failure, but at least he'll die with Dami.
A though strikes him, one last selfish request, then he'll rest.
"Dami-" His voice breaks and he coughs up a bunch of blood. Damian mutters at him to - shut up you're fine, stop talking you're making it worse.
"Damian, please, I have a request." Distantly Danyal registers this is the first time he's seen Damian openly cry.
"A-anything Ahki, but you'll be Fine!" He sobs pressing harder on his chest. Danyal feels the edges of his vision fading.
"My soulmate-" Damians eyes go wide- " is named Jason Todd, if you meet him pass on my love? And tell him... I'm sorry I couldn't....... meet him. "Danyals struggles to focus on Damians face, he can't hear his sobs anymore, all he can see is Damians bright green eyes,
"ahibuk....akhi."
And Danyal knew no more.
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Years pass, damian goes to Bruce's. Damian realizes Todd is Danny's SM. He also realizes hes not going to want to talk to damian, so he lures Todd to the manor. He uses his skills to restrain Todd in the dining room. While everyone freaks out, he kisses Jason on the cheek. Everyone freezes.
Damian whispers " Danyal is sorry he could not be here to meet you, he sends his love through me, he died an honourable death."
Jason is stunned and Damian walks away.
Jason had never told anyone his soulmates name.
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AN: I had ideas to keep it as he died or that he becomes Danny phantom but this is all I have energy for rn.
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pucksandpower · 20 days
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Find Me Again
Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: in which two soulmates are destined to always find each other only to be torn apart lifetime after lifetime after lifetime … until finally, they’re not (aka the reincarnation AU)
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Alexandria, 30 BC
The scorching Egyptian sun beats down on Alexandria as you hurry through the bustling streets, your sandals slapping against the warm stone. The air is thick with tension — whispers of Octavian’s approaching army have the city on edge. But your mind is elsewhere, focused on the stolen moments you’ll soon share with Lando.
You slip into a secluded alleyway, heart racing as you spot his familiar silhouette. Lando’s face lights up when he sees you, though worry creases his brow.
“There you are,” he murmurs, pulling you close. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.”
You melt into his embrace, savoring his warmth. “I’m sorry I’m late. The palace has been in chaos with all the rumors flying about.”
Lando’s arms tighten around you. “It’s true then? Octavian draws near?”
You nod against his chest. “I fear so. Cleopatra grows more desperate by the day.”
He pulls back, cupping your face in his calloused hands. His dark eyes search yours intently. “Come away with me,” he pleads. “We can leave the city tonight, find passage on a ship bound for Greece or Cyprus.”
Your heart aches at the longing in his voice. “Lando, you know I can’t abandon my duty to the queen. She needs me now more than ever.”
“And what of my need for you?” Lando’s voice cracks with emotion. “Each day I’m torn between my loyalty to Rome and my love for you. I cannot bear the thought of you in danger when Octavian’s forces arrive.”
You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath your fingers. “My brave soldier,” you murmur. “Always trying to protect me. But I’ve survived far worse than regime changes. We’ll find a way through this, as we always do.”
Lando leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. “I wish I had your optimism. Every time I close my eyes, I see visions of you lying lifeless amidst the chaos of battle.”
A chill runs down your spine despite the oppressive heat. “Don’t speak of such things,” you chide gently. “We make our own fate, remember?”
He sighs, pressing his forehead to yours. “I know. I just ... I can’t shake this feeling of impending doom. Promise me you’ll be careful, my love. Promise you’ll do whatever it takes to stay safe.”
“I promise,” you whisper, sealing the vow with a tender kiss.
Lando responds eagerly, drawing you closer as the kiss deepens. For a blissful moment, the world fades away and there is only the two of you, lost in each other’s embrace.
A distant shout breaks the spell. You reluctantly pull away, both breathing heavily.
“I should go,” you murmur regretfully. “Cleopatra will be wondering where I’ve disappeared to.”
Lando nods, though he doesn’t release you from his arms. “When can I see you again?”
You bite your lip, considering. “Three days from now, at sunset. Meet me by the lighthouse?”
“I’ll be there,” he vows solemnly. “Be safe, my love.”
With a final lingering kiss, you slip from his embrace and hurry back towards the palace. Your heart feels lighter despite the looming threats, buoyed by Lando’s love and the promise of your next rendezvous.
But fate, it seems, has other plans.
The next few days pass in a blur of mounting tension. Cleopatra grows increasingly erratic, oscillating between grandiose plans to seduce Octavian and talks of ending her own life. You do your best to comfort and counsel her, all while stealing moments to daydream about your upcoming meeting with Lando.
On the fated evening, you’re helping Cleopatra prepare for bed when she suddenly fixates on a basket of figs brought by a servant.
“Ah, how fitting,” she muses, a strange glint in her eye. “Did you know, my dear, that the Egyptians that came before us believed figs to be the fruit of the afterlife?”
A chill runs down your spine. “My queen?”
Cleopatra waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t look so worried. I was simply contemplating the cyclical nature of life and death. Come, help me into bed.”
You obey, tucking the sheets around her with practiced ease. As you turn to leave, her hand darts out to grasp your wrist.
“Stay with me a while longer,” she implores. “I find I cannot bear to be alone with my thoughts tonight.”
Your heart sinks, knowing you’ll miss your rendezvous with Lando. But duty wins out over desire. “Of course, my queen. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”
Hours pass as you sit by Cleopatra’s bedside, listening to her reminisce about better days. Just as your eyelids begin to grow heavy, a commotion in the hall startles you both fully awake.
“What’s happening?” Cleopatra demands, sitting up.
Before you can answer, the doors burst open and a breathless messenger stumbles in. “My queen,” he pants, “Octavian’s army has breached the city walls!”
Cleopatra’s face hardens. “So, the end has come at last.” She turns to you, her gaze intense. “Fetch me the asp.”
Your blood runs cold. “My queen, surely there must be another way-”
“Do not argue with me!” She snaps. “I will not be paraded through Rome as Octavian’s prize. Now go, quickly!”
With a heavy heart, you hurry to retrieve the venomous snake from its hidden chamber. Your hands shake as you return, presenting the basket to Cleopatra.
She reaches for it eagerly, but pauses. Her eyes meet yours, softening slightly. “My faithful friend,” she murmurs. “You have served me well. I release you from your duties. Go, find that Roman boy of yours and flee while you still can.”
Your eyes widen in shock. “You knew?”
Cleopatra’s lips quirk in a sad smile. “I’ve always known. Now go, before it’s too late.”
Torn between duty and desire, you hesitate. In that moment of indecision, everything changes.
Cleopatra reaches for the asp, but in her haste, she knocks the basket from your hands. The snake falls to the floor, immediately striking at the nearest target … you.
Pain explodes in your ankle as the asp’s fangs sink into your flesh. You cry out, stumbling backwards.
“No!” Cleopatra wails, lunging to catch you as you fall.
The world begins to spin as the venom courses through your veins. Your last coherent thought is of Lando, waiting faithfully by the lighthouse. As darkness closes in, you pray he’ll forgive you for breaking your promise.
Hours later, Lando fights his way through the chaos of the conquered city. He charges into the palace, heedless of the danger, desperate to find you.
When he bursts into Cleopatra’s chambers, his worst fears are realized. Two bodies lie motionless on the floor — the queen and beside her ...
“No,” he chokes out, falling to his knees beside your lifeless form. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”
Lando gathers you into his arms, cradling you against his chest as sobs wrack his body. “You promised,” he whispers brokenly. “You promised you’d stay safe.”
But promises, like empires, are so easily broken. As the sun rises on a new era for Egypt, it sets on this chapter of your shared story. Yet even as this life ends, the seeds of the next are already taking root, waiting to bloom in another time, another place.
For true love, like the mighty Nile, cannot be contained. It flows ever onward, carving new paths through the landscape of eternity.
Pompeii, 79 AD
The ground trembles beneath your feet as you race through the chaotic streets of Pompeii. Ash rains from the sky, coating everything in a ghostly gray shroud. All around, people scream and push, desperately seeking escape from the fury of Mount Vesuvius.
“Lando!” You call out, your voice hoarse from the acrid air. “Lando, where are you?”
A hand suddenly grabs your arm, yanking you into a narrow alleyway. You whirl around, ready to fight, only to find yourself face to face with Lando. His usually immaculate toga is torn and stained with soot, his dark curls matted with ash.
“Thank the gods,” he breathes, pulling you into a fierce embrace. “I thought I’d lost you in the crowd.”
You cling to him tightly, savoring his familiar warmth amidst the chaos. “We need to get out of the city,” you say urgently. “The mountain — it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”
Lando nods grimly. “I know. I’ve been trying to make it to the harbor, but the roads are completely blocked. It’s madness out there.”
Another tremor rocks the ground, stronger than before. Pieces of masonry rain down from the surrounding buildings. Lando shields you with his body as you both press against the alley wall.
“We can’t stay here,” you say once the shaking subsides. “It’s not safe.”
“Nowhere is safe,” Lando replies, his eyes haunted. “But you’re right, we need to keep moving. Come on, I know another way to the docks.”
Hand-in-hand, you dash back out into the crowded street. The air grows thicker with each passing moment, making it harder to breathe. You pull the edge of your stola over your mouth and nose, squinting through the haze.
Lando leads you through a maze of side streets and back alleys, avoiding the worst of the panicked crowds. But with each turn, your hope dwindles. The mountain’s fury seems to be growing by the minute, raining down fire and ash with terrifying intensity.
As you round another corner, you come face to face with a wall of rubble blocking the entire street. Lando curses under his breath, pounding his fist against a fallen column.
“It’s no use,” he says, defeat creeping into his voice. “Every path to the harbor is cut off. We’re trapped.”
You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Then we’ll find somewhere to wait it out. The gods won’t abandon us. We just have to have faith.”
He turns to you, a sad smile playing on his lips. “Always the optimist, aren’t you? Even in the face of certain doom.”
“One of us has to be,” you reply, managing a weak smile of your own.
Another violent tremor shakes the ground, nearly knocking you both off your feet. In the distance, you hear the ominous rumble of collapsing buildings.
“Quick, in here!” Lando shouts, pulling you towards a sturdy-looking stone building. You duck inside just as a fresh barrage of burning rocks pelts the street where you were standing moments ago.
As your eyes adjust to the dimness, you realize you’re in some kind of workshop. Half-finished statues and blocks of marble are scattered about, coated in a fine layer of ash that has sifted through the cracks.
“A sculptor’s studio,” Lando muses, running his hand along a nearby bust. “Rather fitting, don’t you think? To spend our last moments surrounded by art meant to outlast us all.”
You shoot him a reproachful look. “Don’t talk like that. This isn’t the end. We’ll get through this, just like we always do.”
He sighs, pulling you close. “I admire your spirit, my love. But I fear this time, the Fates have other plans for us.”
As if to punctuate his words, the ground gives another violent lurch. The air grows even thicker, filled with choking dust and sulfurous fumes.
“It’s getting harder to breathe,” you gasp, fighting back a coughing fit.
Lando guides you to a relatively clear corner of the room, helping you sit on the floor before settling beside you. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, drawing you against his side.
“Just try to take shallow breaths,” he instructs, his own voice strained. “Like this, see?”
You nod, focusing on matching your breathing to his. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your labored breaths and the distant rumble of the mountain.
“Lando?” You whisper after a while.
“Hmm?”
“I’m scared.”
He tightens his hold on you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know, love. I am too.”
“Tell me a story?” You ask, your voice small. “Like you used to, when we first met. Remember?”
Lando chuckles softly. “How could I forget? You were the most stubborn student I’ve ever had the misfortune of tutoring.”
“Hey!” You protest weakly, managing a smile despite everything. “I wasn’t that bad.”
“Oh no?” He teases. “Who was it that insisted the Odyssey would be vastly improved if Odysseus had simply asked for directions?”
You laugh, the sound quickly dissolving into a cough. “Well, it’s true! Twenty years to get home? Penelope should have moved on.”
Lando shakes his head in mock dismay. “Such disrespect for the classics. I clearly failed as your tutor.”
“Never,” you murmur, snuggling closer to him. “You taught me far more important things than dusty old stories.”
“Oh? And what might those be?”
You tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “You taught me what it means to truly love someone. To find a home not in a place, but in a person.”
Lando’s eyes shine with unshed tears as he leans down to kiss you softly. “And you, my darling, taught me that life is meant to be lived, not just studied. You brought color to my world of scrolls and stone.”
Another tremor shakes the building, sending a fresh wave of dust raining down on you both. The air grows thicker, each breath a struggle.
“Lando,” you wheeze, gripping his hand tightly. “I don’t want to die.”
He pulls you onto his lap, cradling you against his chest. “Shh, it’s alright. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
“Promise you won’t leave me?” You plead, your vision starting to blur.
“Never,” he vows fiercely. “Not in this life or any other. Wherever our souls go next, we go together. I promise.”
You manage a weak nod, focusing on the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. As consciousness begins to slip away, you’re struck by a strange sense of déjà vu.
“Lando?” You murmur, your voice barely audible.
“Yes, love?”
“I think ... I think we’ve done this before.”
He lets out a shaky laugh. “What, died in each other’s arms while a volcano erupts? I think I’d remember that.”
You shake your head slightly. “No, not exactly. But this feeling ... like we’ve known each other forever. Like we’ll find each other again, no matter what.”
Lando is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is thick with emotion. “Maybe we have. Maybe we will. I’d like to think so.”
“Me too,” you whisper.
As the world crumbles around you, you cling to each other. Your last thoughts are not of fear or regret, but of the love you share. A love so powerful it transcends time itself.
And as this chapter closes, another waits to begin. For some bonds are too strong to be broken, even by death. Your souls are destined to find each other again and again, weaving an eternal tapestry of love across the ages.
Salem, 1692
The air in the Salem courthouse is thick with tension and the bitter scent of fear. You stand before the assembled judges, your wrists bound tightly with rough rope that chafes your skin. The crowd of onlookers murmurs and shifts restlessly, their faces a sea of suspicion and barely concealed hostility.
Lando sits among them, his face a mask of anguish as he watches the proceedings. He wants nothing more than to rush to your side, to shield you from the madness that has gripped the town. But he knows that any show of support would only damn you further in the eyes of the court.
Judge Hathorne’s voice rings out, silencing the whispers. “The accused will step forward.”
You take a shaky step, raising your chin defiantly despite the terror coursing through your veins.
“You stand accused of witchcraft and consorting with the devil,” Hathorne intones gravely. “How do you plead?”
“Not guilty,” you declare, your voice stronger than you feel. “I am no witch, merely a midwife and herbalist. I have done nothing but help this community.”
A snort of derision comes from the crowd. You turn to see Goodwife Putnam, her face twisted with malice. “Lies!” She shrieks. “I saw her dancing naked in the woods, consorting with dark spirits!”
“That’s not true!” You protest. “I was gathering herbs for my remedies, nothing more!”
Judge Hathorne raises an eyebrow. “And can anyone vouch for your whereabouts on the night in question?”
Your heart sinks. You had been alone that night, as you often were when foraging. “I ... I was alone, your honor. But I swear on all that is holy, I am no witch.”
A ripple of whispers sweeps through the crowd. Lando’s fists clench at his sides, his jaw tight with the effort of remaining silent.
“Very convenient,” Hathorne remarks dryly. “Goody Putnam, you may continue with your testimony.”
The woman stands, her eyes gleaming with a fervor that chills you to the bone. “I’ve seen her speaking to animals as if they could understand her. And just last week, my cow’s milk turned sour the very day after she visited our farm!”
“That’s ridiculous!” You exclaim. “Milk spoils, it’s a natural occurrence. And I often speak to animals, as do many others. It does not make me a witch!”
But your protests fall on deaf ears. One by one, your neighbors step forward with increasingly outlandish accusations. Every misfortune, every unexplained event is laid at your feet.
“She cursed my crops!”
“My child fell ill after eating her bread!”
“I saw her flying on a broomstick!”
The claims grow more absurd, but the judges nod solemnly at each one. You feel the noose of suspicion tightening around your neck with each passing moment.
Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Lando leaps to his feet. “This is madness!” He shouts. “You’re condemning an innocent woman based on nothing but gossip and superstition!”
All eyes turn to him. Judge Danforth fixes him with a steely glare. “Master Norris, you will remain silent or be removed from this courtroom.”
“I will not be silent while you murder an innocent woman!” Lando retorts. He turns to the crowd, imploring them. “Can’t you see what’s happening? We’re tearing our community apart with these baseless accusations!”
A murmur of uncertainty ripples through the onlookers. For a moment, you dare to hope that reason might prevail.
But then Abigail Williams, one of the young girls at the center of the witch hunt, lets out a blood-curdling shriek. She points a trembling finger at you. “Her specter! I see her specter tormenting me even now!”
The other girls quickly join in, writhing and screaming as if in the throes of possession. The courtroom erupts into chaos.
“Order!” Judge Hathorne bellows, pounding his gavel. “Order in the court!”
As the commotion dies down, he turns to you, his expression grave. “The evidence against you is overwhelming. Unless you confess and repent, I have no choice but to find you guilty of witchcraft.”
Your heart pounds in your chest. You know that a confession might spare your life, but it would mean living a lie. And worse, it would lend credence to the madness gripping Salem.
“I will not confess to crimes I did not commit,” you say quietly but firmly. “I am innocent before God and man.”
Judge Hathorne’s face hardens. “Then you leave us no choice. You are hereby sentenced to death by hanging. May God have mercy on your soul.”
The crowd erupts into a mix of cheers and shocked gasps. Lando’s anguished cry rises above the din. “No! You can’t do this!”
He rushes towards you, but is quickly restrained by two burly constables. “Let me go!” He shouts, struggling against their grip. “She’s innocent!”
Your eyes meet his across the chaotic courtroom. Despite everything, you manage a small, sad smile. “It’s alright, Lando,” you call out. “Be strong. This isn’t your fault.”
As the guards move to lead you away, Lando breaks free and rushes to your side. He cups your face in his hands, his eyes wild with desperation. “I’ll find a way to stop this,” he vows. “I won’t let them take you.”
You lean into his touch, memorizing the feel of his hands on your skin. “There’s nothing you can do, my love. Promise me you’ll stay safe. Don’t let them take you too.”
“I can’t lose you,” he chokes out, tears streaming down his face.
“You won’t,” you whisper fiercely. “Not really. I don’t know how I know this, but I swear we’ll find each other again. In another life, another time. This isn’t the end for us.”
The guards roughly pull you apart. As they drag you away, you keep your eyes locked on Lando’s, drawing strength from his gaze.
The next few days pass in a blur of fear and desperate prayer. You cling to the strange certainty that had come over you in the courtroom — that somehow, someway, this is not truly the end for you and Lando.
On the day of your execution, you walk to the gallows with your head held high. The crowd that has gathered is subdued, some already beginning to question the justice of what’s happening.
You scan the faces, searching for Lando, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Your heart aches at his absence, but you understand. It would be too painful for him to watch.
As the noose is placed around your neck, you close your eyes and think of Lando. Of his laugh, his gentle touch, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. You hold onto these memories as the world falls away beneath your feet.
Your last conscious thought is a promise — to find him again, no matter how long it takes.
Miles away, hidden in the woods, Lando feels the exact moment you leave this world. He collapses to his knees, a wordless cry of anguish tearing from his throat. But even in his grief, he feels the echo of your final promise.
“I’ll find you,” he whispers to the uncaring forest. “In this life or the next. We’ll be together again. I swear it.”
And so another chapter closes, the threads of your shared destiny stretching onward through time. The cycle continues, each life bringing you closer to the moment when you’ll finally break free of this endless dance of death and rebirth.
Yekaterinburg, 1918
The Ipatiev House looms dark and foreboding in the Yekaterinburg night. You pace the confines of your makeshift prison, the once-opulent rooms now a stark reminder of how far the mighty Romanovs have fallen. The sound of raised voices and heavy footsteps from the floor below sends a chill down your spine.
“They’re coming,” your sister Maria whispers, her eyes wide with fear.
Before you can respond, the door bursts open. A group of armed men file in, their faces grim and purposeful. Your heart nearly stops when you spot a familiar face among them.
“Lando?” You gasp, scarcely able to believe your eyes.
He meets your gaze, his expression a turbulent mix of emotions. “Grand Duchess,” he says stiffly, the formal title at odds with the intimate moments you’ve shared in secret.
“What’s happening?” You demand, struggling to keep your voice steady. “Why are you here?”
Yakov Yurovsky, the commandant of the house, steps forward. “The Ural Soviet has decided to execute the Romanov family,” he announces coldly. “You are to be moved to the basement immediately.”
A wave of terror washes over you. “No,” you breathe. “No, this can’t be happening.”
Your eyes lock with Lando’s, silently pleading. For a moment, you see the conflict raging behind his eyes. But then his expression hardens, and he looks away.
As the guards begin herding your family towards the stairs, you manage to maneuver closer to Lando. “How could you be part of this?” You hiss under your breath.
His jaw clenches. “The revolution demands sacrifices,” he mutters. “Even from those we ... care about.”
“Care about?” You repeat incredulously. “Is that all I am to you now? After everything we’ve shared?”
A flicker of pain crosses his face. “You know it’s more complicated than that. Your family’s rule has caused immeasurable suffering. This ... this is justice.”
“Murder is not justice,” you retort, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger.
Before he can respond, you’re roughly pushed forward. The journey to the basement is a blur of terror and disbelief. Your mind races, desperately seeking a way out of this nightmare.
In the dank cellar, Yurovsky instructs your family to line up against the wall. You find yourself between your younger siblings, instinctively trying to shield them even as your own knees threaten to give out.
“Wait,” you cry out as Yurovsky raises his hand to signal the firing squad. “Please, spare the children at least. They’re innocent in all this!”
Yurovsky’s face remains impassive. “There can be no Romanov heirs left to rally around. The old regime must end here and now.”
You turn to Lando, making one last desperate appeal. “Lando, please. If what we had meant anything to you, don’t let this happen. Help us!”
For a moment, you see the Lando you knew — the passionate young man who spoke of creating a better world, who held you under the stars and whispered promises of a future together. But then the revolutionary mask slips back into place.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely audible. “But this is bigger than us.”
As the soldiers raise their weapons, time seems to slow. You think of all the lives you might have lived — the futures now forever lost to you. A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you, as if you’ve faced death with Lando before.
“Ready!” Yurovsky’s voice cuts through your reverie.
You straighten your spine, determined to face your end with dignity. Your eyes find Lando’s one last time.
“Aim!”
“I forgive you,” you mouth silently, even as tears stream down your face.
You see Lando’s composure crack, anguish flooding his features. He takes a half-step forward, as if to intervene, but it’s too late.
“Fire!”
The basement erupts in a deafening cacophony of gunshots and screams. You feel a searing pain in your chest as bullets tear through you. As you crumple to the ground, your fading vision fixates on Lando’s horrified face.
With your last breath, you whisper, “Find me again.”
Then darkness claims you.
Lando stands frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from your lifeless form. The smokey smell of gunpowder mixes with the metallic scent of blood, turning his stomach.
“Finish them off,” Yurovsky orders dispassionately. “No survivors.”
As his comrades move forward with bayonets, Lando stumbles back, retching. He staggers up the stairs and out into the cool night air, gulping it down desperately.
What has he done?
He’d believed so fervently in the revolution, in the need to sweep away the old order to build a better world. But staring at his blood-stained hands, Lando feels nothing but horror and soul-crushing guilt.
Your final words haunt him. “Find me again.” But how can he, when he’s destroyed any chance of a future together?
As dawn breaks over Yekaterinburg, Lando makes a decision. He can’t undo what’s been done, but he can ensure the truth isn’t buried along with your body.
Over the coming weeks, as the Bolsheviks spread lies about your family’s fate, Lando works in secret to document what really happened. He gathers evidence, writes detailed accounts, and arranges for the information to be smuggled out of the country.
It’s a dangerous game. If caught, he’ll be branded a traitor to the revolution. But Lando no longer cares about ideology or politics. His only goal is to honor your memory and ensure that history remembers the truth.
Late one night, as he prepares to flee the country with his damning documents, Lando allows himself a moment of quiet reflection. He thinks of your smile, your compassion, the way you challenged him to see beyond his rigid beliefs.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers to the empty room. “I failed you in this life. But I swear, somehow, I’ll make it right. If there’s any justice in the universe, we’ll meet again. And next time, I’ll protect you. I’ll choose you over everything else.”
As he slips out into the night, Lando feels a strange sense of certainty. This isn’t the end of your story. Somehow, someway, you’ll find each other again.
The wheel of fate continues to turn, carrying your intertwined souls towards yet another lifetime. But with each cycle, the bond between you grows stronger. Perhaps next time, you’ll finally break free of this tragic pattern and find the happiness that’s eluded you for so long.
Jonestown, 1978
The humid Guyanese air hangs heavy over Jonestown, thick with tension and the cloying scent of tropical flowers. You stand among the gathered crowd, your heart pounding so hard you fear it might burst from your chest. Beside you, Lando’s hand finds yours, squeezing tightly.
“This isn’t right,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the droning speech coming from the pavilion. “We need to get out of here.”
You nod imperceptibly, not daring to speak. Jim Jones’ paranoid ravings have reached a fever pitch in recent days, and you both know that even the slightest hint of dissent could be deadly.
“My children,” Jones’ voice booms out over the loudspeakers, “the time has come for us to make our final stand against the oppressors who seek to destroy our paradise.”
A murmur ripples through the crowd. You scan the sea of faces, seeing a mix of blind devotion and barely concealed terror.
“Our Congressional visitors have betrayed us,” Jones continues, his words slurring slightly. “They will bring nothing but destruction. We have no choice but to enact our glorious revolutionary suicide.”
Your blood runs cold. You’d heard whispers of this plan, but had desperately hoped it was just another of Jones’ manipulative tactics.
“Lando,” you whisper urgently, “we have to run. Now.”
He nods, his face pale but determined. “Follow my lead. When I give the signal, we make a break for the jungle.”
But before you can move, you feel a vice-like grip on your arm. You turn to see your mother, her eyes wild with fervor.
“Where do you think you’re going?” She hisses. “This is our moment of triumph. You will not ruin it with your lack of faith.”
On Lando’s other side, his father has a similar hold on him. The older man’s face is a mask of grim resignation. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, son,” he says quietly.
You watch in horror as Jones’ lieutenants begin distributing paper cups filled with a sinister purple liquid. The bitter almond smell of cyanide fills the air.
“No,” you breathe, struggling against your mother’s grip. “Mom, please. This is insanity. We don’t have to do this!”
But your pleas fall on deaf ears. Your mother’s grip only tightens as she accepts two cups from a passing aide.
“Drink,” she commands, thrusting one towards you.
You shake your head vehemently, clamping your mouth shut. Beside you, Lando is engaged in a similar struggle with his father.
“You can’t force us to do this!” Lando shouts, drawing the attention of nearby cult members. “This is murder!”
Jones’ voice cuts through the growing commotion. “Those who resist are traitors to our cause. They must be made to comply, for the good of all.”
Suddenly, you’re surrounded by a group of Jones’ most fanatical followers. Rough hands grab you, forcing your head back. You struggle wildly, but it’s no use. You feel the cold rim of the cup pressed against your lips.
“No!” Lando cries out, fighting to reach you. “Leave her alone!”
But he too is overwhelmed, multiple hands restraining him as the poisoned drink is forced upon him.
The sickly-sweet liquid burns your throat as it’s poured into your mouth. You choke and splutter, but can’t prevent some of it from going down. Beside you, Lando’s muffled cries tell you he’s suffering the same fate.
As the hands release you, you collapse to your knees, coughing violently. Your vision swims, the world taking on a surreal, nightmarish quality.
“Lando,” you gasp, reaching out blindly.
His hand finds yours, gripping it weakly. “I’m here,” he manages, his voice raw. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t protect you.”
You crawl closer, fighting against the growing weakness in your limbs. All around, people are collapsing, some screaming in agony while others slip away in eerie silence.
“It’s not your fault,” you whisper, cupping Lando’s face with a trembling hand. “We never stood a chance against this madness.”
Lando’s eyes, clouded with pain, meet yours. “This can’t be how it ends,” he says desperately. “Not again.”
A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. “Again?” You murmur, confused.
He nods weakly. “I don’t know how, but I feel like we’ve been here before. Facing death together, unable to stop it.”
As the poison works its way through your system, flashes of other lives flicker through your mind. Ancient Egypt, Pompeii, Salem, Russia — each time, finding each other only to be torn apart.
“I remember,” you breathe, wonder mingling with the pain. “We keep finding each other, but we never get our happy ending.”
Lando pulls you closer, both of you shaking with the effort of fighting off the inevitable. “Next time,” he vows, his voice barely above a whisper. “Next time we’ll break this cycle. We’ll find a way to be together.”
You manage a small, sad smile. “Promise?”
“I promise,” he murmurs, pressing a weak kiss to your forehead.
As consciousness begins to slip away, you cling to each other. The sounds of screaming and Jones’ maniacal laughter fade into the background. In these final moments, there is only you and Lando, and the love that has somehow endured across lifetimes.
“Find me again,” you whisper, echoing words spoken in another life.
Lando’s grip on your hand tightens fractionally. “Always,” he breathes.
As darkness closes in, you’re filled with a strange sense of hope. This tragic cycle can’t go on forever. Someday, somehow, you’ll find a way to break free and finally have the life together you’ve been denied so many times.
Your last thought, as you slip away, is a prayer to whatever cosmic force keeps bringing you together.
Next time, let it be different.
Next time, let us live.
And as your souls depart this tragic scene, unseen wheels of fate begin to turn once more. The cycle continues, but perhaps this time, with the weight of so many shared lifetimes behind you, you’ll finally find your way to a happier ending.
In the years that follow, as the horror of Jonestown is revealed to the world, two names are lost among the hundreds of victims. But your story — the story of a love that refuses to be extinguished — lives on, waiting for the next chapter to unfold.
Monaco, 2024
The soft glow of computer screens illuminates Lando’s face as he leans into his microphone, his eyes darting between the chat and his game. “No, chat, I’m not going to sing the Baby Shark song,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You lot are absolutely mental, you know that?”
The door to his streaming room creaks open, and he glances over, his face softening into a warm smile as you pad in, wrapped in an oversized hoodie you’ve stolen from his wardrobe.
“Speaking of sharks,” Lando grins, addressing his audience, “look who’s decided to join us. It’s my favorite cuddly shark!”
You roll your eyes fondly at the nickname, a reference to your habit of playfully nipping at his shoulder when you’re feeling particularly affectionate. As you approach, Lando pushes his chair back slightly, making room for you to settle onto his lap.
“Come here, you,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your waist as you curl into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. To his stream, he explains, “Sorry chat, the missus is feeling a bit clingy tonight. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”
You mumble something unintelligible into his skin, making him laugh. “What was that, love? The stream can’t hear you when you’re trying to become one with my neck.”
Lifting your head slightly, you repeat, “I said, don’t let me interrupt your gaming. I just wanted cuddles.”
Lando presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “You’re never an interruption. Besides, I think the chat’s been asking for a cameo from you all night.”
You turn to face the camera, waving sleepily. “Hi, chat. Sorry I’m not more entertaining tonight. Long day at work.”
The chat explodes with greetings and well-wishes, scrolling by almost too fast to read. Lando chuckles, giving you a gentle squeeze. “See? They love you. Probably more than they love me, to be honest.”
“That’s fair,” you murmur, nuzzling back into his neck. “No one loves you more than I do.”
Lando’s breath catches for a moment, and you feel his heart rate pick up. Even after all this time together, simple declarations of love still affect him deeply. It’s one of the many things you adore about him.
“Alright, chat,” Lando says, his voice a touch huskier than before. “You’ve gone and made her all sappy. I hope you’re happy with yourselves.”
You can’t help but giggle at his attempt to deflect. “Oh please, you love it when I’m sappy.”
“Maybe,” he concedes with a grin. “But if I admit that, they’ll never let me hear the end of it. I have a reputation to maintain, you know.”
You snort inelegantly. “What reputation? Everyone knows you’re a big softie.”
“Oi!” Lando protests, poking you in the side and making you squirm. “I’ll have you know I’m very tough and manly. Right, chat?”
The stream erupts with a mix of agreement and playful disagreement, peppered with emotes and inside jokes. You watch the scrolling text with amusement, marveling at the community Lando has built.
“See?” Lando says triumphantly. “They agree with me.”
You raise an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure at least half of those messages were sarcastic, babe.”
Lando waves a hand dismissively. “Details, details. The point is, I’m incredibly macho and not at all a softie.”
“Mmhmm,” you hum skeptically. “Is that why you cried watching Up last week?”
“Hey!” Lando exclaims, his cheeks flushing slightly. “That’s classified information, that is. You can’t just go revealing my secrets to the entire internet!”
The chat goes wild at this revelation, demanding to know more about Lando’s movie-watching habits. You can’t help but laugh at his mock-outraged expression.
“Sorry, love,” you say, not sounding sorry at all. “But if I have to put up with your sniffling during Disney movies, the least I can do is share the joy with your fans.”
Lando groans dramatically. “That’s it, I’m filing for divorce. Chat, you’re my witnesses. This is grounds for divorce, right? Revealing a man’s most intimate vulnerabilities?”
You roll your eyes fondly. “We’re not even married yet, you goof.”
The words slip out before you can think better of them, and suddenly the atmosphere in the room shifts. Lando’s eyes widen slightly, his gaze locking with yours.
“Yet?” He repeats softly, a note of wonder in his voice.
You feel your cheeks heat up, but you don’t look away. “Well, yeah. I mean, unless you had other plans?”
For a moment, Lando seems to forget entirely about the stream. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your skin. “No other plans,” he murmurs. “Just you. Always you.”
The intimacy of the moment is broken by the chat exploding once again, this time with a flurry of ring emotes and excited keysmashes. Lando blinks, seeming to remember where he is.
“Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Well, chat, I think that’s my cue to end the stream for tonight. Got some, uh, important things to discuss with this one.”
You bury your face in his neck again, half embarrassed and half thrilled by the turn of events. As Lando rushes through his usual sign-off, you can feel the barely contained energy thrumming through him.
The moment the stream ends, Lando spins his chair to face you fully, his eyes bright with excitement. “Did you mean that?” He asks eagerly. “About the marriage thing?”
You lift your head, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. “Of course I did. Lando, I’ve loved you for lifetimes. There’s nothing I want more than to marry you.”
Something flashes in his eyes at your words — a fleeting moment of recognition, as if some long-buried memory is struggling to surface. But then it’s gone, replaced by pure joy.
“Lifetimes, huh?” He grins, pulling you closer. “Well, in that case, I suppose we better make this one count.”
As his lips meet yours in a tender kiss, you’re filled with an overwhelming sense of rightness. After so many tragic endings, you’ve finally found your happily ever after. And this time, you’re not letting go.
“I love you,” you murmur against his lips. “In this life and every other.”
Lando’s answering smile is radiant. “And I love you. Always have, always will.”
As you lose yourselves in each other’s embrace, the echoes of past lives fade away. This is your time, your chance at happiness. And you plan to make the most of every single moment.
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pedrasacorn · 1 month
Text
Pairings: Jason x fem!reader
Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, head injury
Summary: self indulgent,
“Hood—” your broken voice cuts through his adrenaline rush, echoing through the dark, damp alleyway.
He holsters his guns quickly, “Hey hey hey—hey sweetheart. Look at me.” He brushes the blood stained hair away from your eyes, “There she is…I gotchu sweet thing.” His voice feels so distant, morphed by the modulator in his helmet into something you don’t recognize.
Your eyes start to wander to the mess of blood. He blocks your sight with his body, “No…You of all people, don’t need to see that,” He cups your cheek, tilting your face up, “That’s not for you okay? You keep those eyes on me.”
He removes his gloves. Although his bare hands are clean, the blood is always there.
His fingertips barely touch your cheek, just enough to ground you.
The red of his helmet warps as tears blur your vision. He quickly swipes them away. “That scumbag is not worth your tears.”
His eyes follow your tears as they mix with the blood on your face. Not your blood. He grimaces.
God nothing bad should ever get the chance to touch you. Yet here he was with his palm cradling your face. He, is a hypocrite.
“I’m taking you to my safe house, s’that okay?”
Your throat feels too raw to speak. So you nod.
The world around you tilts, before strong arms wrap around your shoulders, “Easy there sweets, I gotcha.”
He scoops you up. This man who you’ve seen toss full grown men like rag dolls—still surprises you because you weigh nothing. You feel like you weigh nothing, but you’re not holding yourself. Wait he weighs…you to him weigh…you weigh to him like…which one of you weighs nothing?
“Jay I don’ feel good.” You croak.
“Shh I know sweetheart, I know. Almost home.”
You barely register being set down on the bathroom counter.
He unclips his helmet, and tosses it to the floor. Something stirs within when his green eyes meet yours.
“I saw it,” Your voice trembles as unshed tears choke you, “the blood.”
His brows are furrowed with concern, his full bottom lip is almost a pout. Angels above he has never looked softer. It helps sooth every bit of reluctance now that you can see his face again.
Your eyes feel heavy.
His thumb brushes over your brow, “Open those eyes f’me. Please…” You squint at him as he brings a small flashlight to your eye line.
You knew this one, you’d watched asmr videos of it.
“Concoction.”
He huffs through his nose, a smile lilting his mouth, pulling at the scar above his lip. “Concussion sweetness. Follow the light.”
You do so halfheartedly, not much of an overachiever right now. “S’con-cuntion?” Your tongue feels heavy, clumsy in your mouth.
“Yeah…s’okay though I’ve had plenty of my own. You’re staying here tonight.”
The cotton filling your brain makes your nod feel weightless.
A warm washcloth is brought your cheek, you lean into it happily letting it melt the bite of the cold alley still clinging to your skin. God you can’t remember the last time someone touched you like this.
“You with me pretty girl?” He croons, as he wipes the dried blood from your brow, and cheeks.
You nod, almost dazed.
Tears blur your vision, but he doesn’t try to stop you from crying, just patiently wipes them away with the cloth.
Contently closing your eyes you whisper, “Your hands are soft.”
He is careful not to wear his heart anywhere near his sleeve, and somehow you’ve coaxed him into wearing it on his face. “You’re soft.” He murmurs.
The blood is finally gone.
He sets you down on his bed, keeping you propped up on the bedpost, “Don’t lay down yet.” He coaxes.
You focus on the coolness of the wood, until the bed dips next to you.
“I’m gonna help you get dressed, in the least mortifying way for you possible. I’m so sorry but also…” his eyes rake over you, “I’m not letting you catch the disease that killed the dinosaurs.”
Touché. Who knows what Gotham has cooked up in her petri dish.
“S’okay, m’clothes feel gross.”
He nods curtly before oh so gently lifting your sweater over your head, quickly swapping it for his tshirt.
It smells good—like spring—but you wish he’d given you one off his back. It’d smell like him.
You hold up the shirt to keep it out of contact with your pants. As careful as diffusing a bomb he unbuttons them. “Lift your hips f’me.” He holds you steady, one hand on your hip as the other tugs them down your legs. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as you lean your body weight against him.
“Ya good like this? I have pants they’re just…large.”
You let the shirt back down, it thankfully falls past your hips. “M’okay.”
You’re weightless again as he lifts you, gently laying you on the mass of pillows.
“Oh hallelujah.” You sigh.
Something brushes your nose, you pry your eyes open to be met with his.
“Swallow these.” You wash the pills down with the bottle of water he presses against your lips.
“You’re gonna hate me for the next 24 hours.” He gently brushes the hair out of your eyes with his thumb.
“S’okay ’cause I love you even when I hate you.”
He huffs amusedly. It’s not the same love he feels for you, it can’t be.
“Yeah…I love ya too.”
———
A/n: I stayed up way too late so the concussion yapping is just me trying to figure out what I’m trying to say
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