#there's a reason this fic is in my mind divided into 3 parts being | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

angel-eyes05 · 2 months ago

Text

going over easy

pairing: bob reynolds x powered!thunderbolts!fem!reader

summary: two of the same. after breaking through inital barriers, you and the sentry appear to be inseperable, a pull almost forcing you two to each other. the strength of that pull has been getting pretty testy recently, and the two of you begin to wonder who you are to the other.

warnings/info: nsfw and mdni warning by the end of the fic, ill section off that part if you just wanna read the cutey parts, veryyyyyyy soft sex, no use of y/n, this bob is gonna be a little different from how i see him in a lot of other fics so disclaimer about that ig, but dw he's still very soft and sweet, oral sex and fingering (f!receiving), self depreciation on readers side, lots of my headcanons are gonna shine through here, reader is powered as well (yes that is gonna play into this lol) and is less of a blank slate than usual (aka shes kinda side rip), a scene in the void so we can know reader a little more and just for plot purposes lol, bob's powers are gonna be limited to whatever we saw showcased in thunderbolts so please dont get picky if somethings comic inaccurate thanks, its bob so ofc theres a little bit of angst too but dw this is very fluffy as well we love being well rounded lol

word count: 13.3k

notes: so guess who's obsessed with thunderbolts now.....and guess what half of the reasoning is.....if your guess was a man YOUD BE RIGHT!!!! i had to write for him ofc, i put a steve harrington fic on pause for this i had to jump on it lol. one thing i will say about bob fics that annoy me is that ofc everyone turns bob into a cutesy pootsy uwu boy which, hate me or whatever, he is NOTTTTT to me, that man was so sassy and sarcastic in the vault (to walker especially lol) so i wanted that to come out a little more here while still being his naturally sweet and soft self. i go a little bit into 2016 mcu fandom mode on some of the early character descriptions and relationships BUT CAN YOU BLAME A GIRL CAUSE IT FEELS SO GOOD TO BE BACK, I JUST HAD TO </3. i also didnt proofread this cause yet again its like 1am when im posting this and im so tired so if you catch anything uhhhh my bad lol. anyways this is standard to most of my other fics, so have fun lol enjoy!!!

dividers by: @cafekitsune

You always overcooked your eggs. It was part of your routine at this point in your life. As a kid, your irrationally large fear of getting salmonella caused you to force your mom to always burn your eggs, chicken, and other foods of the sorts. It didn't even taste bad to you. It was all you had ever known. Uncomfortable, but natural. You scooped the rubbery eggs out of the pan and onto your plate while you attempted to squirt whatever ketchup you could out of the bottle. Taking your lunch, you leaned on the kitchen island and stared out of the sweeping windows of The Watchtower.

Valentina finding you was complicated. On one hand, you were out of the hell hole of a compound you called a home. However though, her manipulation paired with constant missions and training proved to be its own task entirely. And still with all that, your mind had a knack for traveling back to that dark, damp room. Like a looming threat over your head that if you ever messed up, that's where you would return.

That fear pushed you for the past few years. You worked till your bones cracked fixing up Valentina's messes. It was monotonous, but you had convinced yourself to be grateful for the opportunity to become something more with what you had. You had a special gift after all. Thrusted onto you, sure, but Valentina said that it meant you were worth something now. A living shield and sword. Each time you got hit, your body was able to process the kinetic energy into physical blasts. Meaning dodging an attack was actually bad form on your part. So you got hit. A lot. Most days you'd stumble back to your apartment, knocked in the head so silly you didn't know what was up or down.

But it was good work. Kept you busy. That was until Valentina attempted to have you assassinated, trying to tie up all her loose ends. That's all you were to her at the end of the day. A fly on the way she had to clean up before her guests arrived. Turns out though, she had lots of other flies on the walls, who would in fact turn their forces against her, becoming the world's New Avengers in the process.

One of Yelena's first personal tasks on the job was to find any other lost associates of Valentina. Lucky for you, you fell right into that category. After proving yourself physically capable and trustworthy to her and the rest of the team, you eventually joined as an official member. Your rise to glory had been long and tough, but man was the view from the top nice.

As you grew closer with each of the teammates, you noticed each of their little knick-knacks. Yelena was very easy to let you in, almost like she was begging to share herself with someone else. She must've gotten it from her father, Alexei. He didn't take anything more than four hours to warm up to you. The other three went at a much slower pace, Ava and you eventually bonding over your mutual teasing for Walker, who you made sure knew it was all in good fun. Bucky was last, but it seemed thats how he was with most people. You let him take his time, which seemed to work well in the end. All of them had made their way.

Well. Almost.

Bob was kind of a weird guy. He was kind of an Avenger? But not really? If anything, he was more of their dog that would show up to public appearances with you and the team, but never missions. He spent most of his time lounging around or cleaning up the Watchtower, or in sessions with his therapist. He was always looming around, but kept a specific distance. Mainly physical. Whenever you'd seem to be about to brush by him, he'd scatter away, like a cat who got spooked. You had talked to Yelena about it before, but she said to just give him his time. That this was probably natural after his "incident" a few months back.

You weren't in New York for it, but it of course was on the news everywhere. How a sea of black ink had devoured the city and all of its civilians in their own personalized trauma nightmare. Something you were secretly grateful to have missed. You knew exactly what you'd see if you were in there.

In the recent time of your arrival, you had managed to find and take up your role in your little group. Their own little weird mage, banned from making food for anyone but yourself. No one else liked your burnt food, big shocker.

As you wrapped up with said burnt lunch, you took your plate and utensils to the sink, as a pair of bare feet patted into the room. "Good morning sleepyhead," you called out, knowing who they belonged to already. "Morning's a bit of a stretch, it's like what, 1:30 already?" Bob replied, mid yawn. "I told you guys to start forcing me up earlier," he complained. "Yeah yeah, but Yelena says it's good for you. Your body needs its rest after the serum treatment," you retorted. "Doesn't..." he paused mid sentence to check his sleep tracker on his watch. "....14 hours seem like a little much?" "Hey, your body's gonna take what it needs," you said, finally turning around to face him. He was wearing his usual lounge outfit, a gigantic, comically oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. His body had grown incredibly sensitive to touch after the serum, so the less fabric tightening down on him, the better.

Bob gave a half smile to your comment and attempted to wipe the drowsiness off his face. "You can leave that for me, it's fine," Bob commented, as you took the dish soap and drizzled it over your dirty plate and pan. "I don't mind, I'm already here anyways," you insisted, turning on the tap. Bob sighed and shrugged his shoulders backwards in an attempt to wake his body up. "Alright, but I'm taking charge on the stovetop," he insisted, walking over to your area.

Something must've been in the air today, because this was the most Bob had talked to you in a while, and this was definitely the closest he had stood near you ever before. His presence was a sweet one, as he himself was a sweet guy. You had seen it in the way he acted with everyone else. You knew it probably had to deal with the fact that you were the newcomer, a different face than what he was used to, but you wanted to badly to have something that close with him too. A deep, lingering jealousy had proved to be a close friend of yours when you would see how he would act with John or Yelena compared to how he would act with you.

Hopefully, this was a step in the right direction.

"You know where the others went?" Bob almost immediately asked.

Or maybe not.

"Downstairs in a meeting with Valentina. I got a pass to skip on this one." In the last meeting you had been to, Bucky had to hold you down before you had the chance to blast her smug smirk off her face.

Bob made a hum in acknowledgment. "Can I ask you something?" He nodded, which you caught out of the corner of your eye. "How do you feel about....her?" Bob paused for a moment.

When Yelena had told you Valentina was at majority blame for The Void Incident, you had no doubt in believing it. You didn't know how the others were so okay with it, but Ms. de Fontaine being your boss still unsettled you. You didn't like the idea that she was still overseeing all of your actions and controlling how you were supposed to be acting towards the public. Especially after the shit she's pulled. Once Yelena explained the situation, about the blackmail shock collar the team had on her if she ever took anything too far, you felt a little more at ease about it. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake off the paranoia about being in this situation with her.

"Fine," Bob responded. You placed the plate down in the sink and turned to face him finally. "That's all you're gonna give me? Fine?" He gave a deep, annoyed sigh. "Well what do you want me to say? That I don't like her? That I don't trust her? That she's the reason I'm like this now and when it didn't go the way she planned, she killed me? Hmm?" You froze a little bit. You hadn't seen this side of him before. The team said it came out a little bit when he would go "Sentry-Mode" (a name made on Alexei's part). You sighed and went back to washing your dish. Bob rubbed his face again. "Sorry, I just thought it was pointless to state the obvious." You smirked a little bit. "Well that's one thing right. Just trying to fill the air I guess." "I know....sorry, that was mean." There's the Bob you know. Always apologizing. "You're good."

The air was stuffy with a tension for the next few minutes while you cleaned the kitchen. Up until a wet glass plate slipped out of your hands and crashed onto the floor, shattering into a billion little pieces. Bob flinched at the sound, on the other side of the island wiping down the counter. You froze and chuckled to yourself a bit. "Woah, you okay?" he asked, concerned. "Yeah, yeah, just a bit of a ditz today," you said, wiping your hand across your face. "You're good, just stay where you are for a sec, I don't want you to get any in your feet," Bob warned, going into first responder mode as he assessed the situation. "I wanna try this out for a second," he insisted.

You watched closely and stilly, as Bob took a deep breath in, closed his eyes, and put his hands out. Suddenly, the glass shards around your feet jittered and lifted into the air slowly, as Bob opened his eyes and guided them to the trash can. Once he was done, he released his breath and dropped his hands. "Well look at mister big shot powers over here!" you cheered. "Bucky let you start practicing again recently?" "Yeah, a little bit here and there just so I don't go overboard again," he blushed a light pink. "Keep it up," you smiled at him.

Before you took another step, you looked down at the ground and noticed a particularly large piece of glass. "Oops, looks like you missed one hot-rod." "Shit, sorry, let me try one more time," he said closing his eyes again. "No no, don't worry, it's fine, I'll just pick this one up," you insisted, reaching down to pick it up. "No, wait, you'll cut yourself!" Bob shouted, almost running over to reach you. "Bob, it's fine I pro-."

As Bob's hand grabbed onto your wrist, you felt a spike of shivers roll down your arm. The first time he had made contact with you, and his hands were so soft....

You couldn't focus on it for long though, looking up and seeing a face of pure horror on Bob's face. You looked at him confused. You were quick to join him though as streams of black slithered across the floor and over your eyes. The last thing you remember was Bob's hand ripping off your wrist, desperately called out your name as the shadows took his place.

~~~~~

Your eyes peeled open, as you tried to assess your surroundings after the chaos. It was eerily quiet, a leaky faucet dripping as the only sound. The room was dark, damp, and cold. Concrete floors and walls, a chamber pot in the corner, and a cot with a wrinkled, thin blanket shoved against the wall. After your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you saw her. The lone decoration of the room. A poster of 1961's Breakfast at Tiffany's, Audrey Hepburn's face faded and discolored with time. The more you stared, the more you recognized this room. You knew where you were. And worst of all, you knew exactly what day this was.

With almost perfect timing, the metal door slide open with angry force. Three armored men burst into the room, as you heard something shuffle itself across the floor. You didn't even notice her at first.

A girl, shoved up into the corner of the wall, head hanging over the chamber pot as she wiped the bile off her mouth. Your memory was fuzzy, but she couldn't have been older than 17 at the time. With short, flat, oily, botched up hair. Wires were bursting out of her neck and down her back, connecting her to a running machine in the wall for vitals.

You. An older one.

The most notable feature was her frame. You would expect someone in this situation to look malnourished, seconds away from death. On the contrary, uncanny muscles were bulging out of her arms and upper back, like they were clawing to be let out. A product of the treatment, like a sumo wrestler on steroids.

The men rushed over to that version of you, ripping the wires out of her neck and latching on a power damper collar in their place. That collar itself was an omen. Can't torture the girl who can absorb the pain and shoot it back out. You'd just be throwing fuel onto the fire.

They forced younger you up to your feet as their superior walked into your room. You could feel your heart stop in your chest as you searched in desperation for a way out. You called out for Bob, Yelena, anyone at all. Almost like your mind was in tune with your decisions, the metal door slammed shut just before you could run out. You leaned your head on the door, not bearing to look, barely standing to listen.

Your old superior examined younger you and the rest of the room, the poster in particular. He smiled sadistically at it. "A real stunner she was, eh?" You scoffed at his words while younger you darted her eyes away. In one swift movement, he ripped the poster down to reveal a makeshift hole halfway into the wall. Your escape route. Taking a deep breath, you finally turned around to face the incoming carnage.

"You think you're smart huh?" the man asked her. Younger you tilted her head up, looking him straight in the eyes, too worn down to care what would happen to her. He smirked. Her silence was enough of an answer. He snapped at his employees, one of them slamming the butt of his gun into her temple in response. You couldn't help but flinch.

The superior slide open the metal door again, as his pawns dragged her unconscious body out the door, while you closely followed. The harsh hospital lights left a sting to your eyes as you traveled through your mind's endless hallways. Finally, you reached the chamber. The door slide open to reveal a dentist chair and an array of instruments littered throughout the room.

The men placed her down into the chair, one of them injecting a serum into her arm to wake her up. Younger you shot awake, pulled down by different leather restraints. Bile filled your mouth as you were reduced to being so helpless to just watch. A doctor followed into the room soon after the six of you, his face burned into your mind.

He took two long prongs, pinching them onto the skin of her elbow, and turned on a machine to send out electrical shocks. After a signal from the commander, he sent out the first wave. You couldn't help but turn your head away, holding back your own tears as phantom pains of remembrance ripped through your skin.

The worst part of all of this was how younger you barely struggled at all, only letting out blood curdling screams of pain. She had accepted her fate hours ago, knowing this was inevitable. Why fight it. It would only make it worse. It made you sick to your stomach. How much she had given up at this point.

A pause in the shocks. You turned your head back to see the commander walking up to the girl, sticking his face down to her's. "You knew this was going to happen?" The girl nodded her head slowly, with the energy she had left. He scoffed. "Then you're dumber than I thought." He stepped back again and signaled for the second wave.

Not baring to take it again, you went against your own judgement and rushed between the men, ripping the prongs off of the girl's body. You met her eyes for a split second.

Behind the numbness, you could see her fear. Roaring underneath the surface.

Before you could sense the rest, you felt a slam into your own temple, knocking you down to the floor. You looked up to see all the men looking at you now, the first time they had done so. The commander pushed past them, staring you down. He crouched down to your level, pushing a stray hair back behind your ear as you shuddered. "Still the same dumb girl I see," he smirked.

In a split second, he grabbed your arm, attaching one of the prongs to it, as the still working machine sent hundreds of volts into your arm in a split second, slicing through your nerves.

~~~~

Before you had time to react to the pain, your body in the real world roared back to life, as you screamed and coughed to catch your breath. You found yourself sitting down in the middle of the kitchen as your hands scrambled all over the ground as you hyperventilated, trying to ground yourself. "Woah, woah, woah, easy, I got you, you're safe now!" You looked up and finally noticed Yelena sitting on the ground in front of you. She had both hands placed on your shoulders, looking deep into your eyes to help you center yourself. You frantically looked around the room, finding the other team members close by, staring at you. Eventually, you found Bob, walking out of the room with Bucky close on his tail. You wanted to talk to him, knowing he was probably upset too, but you had bigger things on your mind.

"I.....I..." You couldn't get the words out. Before you could try again, Yelena softly pulled you into a hug, that you returned very quickly. "You're good now, okay?" she asked. You nodded gently into her shoulder. With more deep breaths and a few tears, you eventually were brought back down. You pulled out of the hug, and began to stand on your feet.

"Yelena, I told you I needed the team up to the helicopter deck in five minutes, do you guys take pleasure in disobeying me or wha-." Valentina bursted out of the elevator, rambling on about what they were probably discussing in the meeting. She only paused after noticing the obvious tension in the room. She looked at you, hunched over and mascara running down your face. "Well what happened to you this time?"

~~~~~~~

The ambient blue glow of the tv washed over your face, as your eyes glazed over the screen. In the few hours since the incident, the team decided it was best for you to sit out on this mission. So you had cooped yourself up in your room, trying anything to distract your mind from going back to that place. Every now and again, you'd hear light pacing footsteps in the hallway outside your door.

You hadn't spoken to Bob since you went under. He hadn't made any attempts to apologize yet. Yelena said it would probably take some time and she would talk to him as soon as she got back. You didn't want to wait until then to make things right, but knowing how fragile both of you were at the moment, you didn't want to accidentally make anything worse.

When the footsteps finally stopped, you sat up a little bit in your bed. Three soft knocks followed. You paused. "Come in." It wasn't him.

Ava gave you a soft "Hi" before stepping inside and closing the door behind her. "How was the mission?" you asked her. She shrugged her shoulders. "More of the same really, you didn't miss much." She gave a little hop onto your bed, laying down on her stomach next to you. "How you feeling?" You gave a little sigh to her. "A little better. I just think I need time." She nodded at your response, and gently held your hand. "You need me, you know where to find me, okay?" You smiled and nodded at her kind gesture. Ava put up a front with the rest of the time, teasing many of the others and acting nonchalant. But something else came out in her around you. That little girl, normally shoved under years of pain and killing.

"Can I ask you something?" you asked her. "Of course." You took a deep breath in and looked her in the eye. "Back when....he took over New York, what did you see?" Ava took a minute to think to herself. "Well, I went through three different rooms to find Bob and Yelena at the center." You adjusted yourself to a more comfortable, open position, trying to create a more welcoming energy in the room as Ava got vulnerable with you. "First room was with my parents and how I got....this way." She took off one of her gloves from her suit, showing her hand phasing between multiple quantum planes at once. A painful experience, she described it as. "Second room was one of my first missions with S.H.I.E.L.D., I had to take out an unarmed doctor."

She twiddled with her fingers, looking down as she picked at the nails. "Last one was a fight I had with an old friend.....he was trying to protect me from....myself I guess....said a lot of things I regret." You frowned down at her, placing a hand on her back to rub it in condolences. "That Bill guy you were talking about earlier, right?" She nodded. "But anyways, I've learned not to dwell on it anymore. My life is different now." She looked up at you. "All of ours are now." You nodded in acknowledgment.

"We're never gonna let those bastards get you again. Can you trust me on that?" She held your face between her hands. You nodded. She looked at you deeper. "I can. All of you," you verbalized. She sat up and pulled you in tightly for a hug. Ava was your best friend. You could trust her more than anyone else here on that.

As she pulled away, she cleared her throat. "Can I ask you a question now?" You nodded. "Do you blame Bob for what happened?"

You took a second.

"No." Ava raised an eyebrow at you. "I really don't." "Okay good, just making sure." You smiled at her. "Is Yelena talking to him?" "She's gonna try to at least," Ava sighed. "He's gonna be like this for a while. Scampery, avoidant. We've learned it's best to let him work through it." You nodded. "But he's gonna be okay, right?" Ava looked up at you, slight confusion in her eyebrows. "Yeah....." You nodded. "Okay....good."

Ava sat in silence for a little bit. "You care more about him being okay than you being okay?" You looked at her, clogs turning in your mind. "When you put it like that, I guess." She looked even more confused now. "Why?"

.....

"I don't know."

~~~~~~~

The next few days were spent with you trying to answer that question for yourself. You and Bob's relationship before this was never a super close one. You always naturally kept a distance from each other. It didn't make much of a difference if things went back to normal from this or not. So why did it matter? Why did it matter if he started talking to you again? Because man did you want him to again. And badly too.

It was like he was playing a prank on you at this point. Every time you would enter a room he was in too, he would find some excuse to leave, leaving you with a sour taste in your mouth. You knew the other team members noticed it too, because you would see one of them usually follow out of the room with him to confront him. You didn't want him to take the blame for this. You knew he was just taking this healing stage at his own pace. But man did you just wish his pace would go a little faster.

At least he wouldn't go on missions with you guys, then you'd really be screwed.

You tended to forget a very important fact because of that.

"Val needs you all downstairs in an hour, there's that press conference about the rebranding today." You could hear Mel talking to the group from your cracked bedroom door. You had been snooping in there, since Bob was in the control room outside with everyone else. "Bob, she wants you there too this time, says the more members there in support, the better."

Shit.

You could hear his whiny groan from your room. "Do I have to?" "Unless you wanna tell Val yourself." That must've been a huge wake up call for him, cause you could hear him rush your way to his room to get ready. He made split second eye contact with you before closing the door. Your heart almost broke with the swiftness his eyes darted away.

You closed your door and started getting ready yourself before you had to take orders from anyone. Most press meetings required a more casual, business attire. Ones like this however, required full glam, full hair, and full costume. You were particularly fast at the getting ready process, especially since you didn't have a thousand gun holsters you had to fasted on, unlike your other team members.

Your costume was also fairly simple. With the nature of your powers, your previous suits had a knack for getting the sleeves torn off, so you decided to replace that design with a simple, black, mock neck bodysuit. Your pants were standard black cargo pants, multiple pockets in case you needed any physical weapons on you in an emergency. They were tied off with a pair of heavy duty combat boots.

For press conferences, Valentina usually requested you to go the most glam with hair and makeup out of the group, since the other two girls were slightly opposed to it. So once that was finally done, you walked out of your room into the control deck, ready to go.

You usually sat there for a good amount of time by yourself, until one of the guys would join you. But this time, Yelena was the first one out after you, albeit half dressed, in the middle of doing her eyeliner, and a makeup bag in her hand.

She looked at you, slightly distressed. "What's up?" you asked. She clenched her teeth. "You're gonna say no, I know it." "Can you just ask me?" She took in a deep sigh. "Can you help Bob with his hair and makeup?" It took every bone in your body not to burst out laughing at her request.

For Valentina and the press, everyone in the tower had to be dressed up. Including the guys. Not too much, but some to cover up most of their "tough guy" looks. Almost like a stage makeup of sorts. The stylists you guys had were always wrangled up with Alexei and Walker, always opposed to the idea and needing extra support, so Yelena would take care of Bob's and Bucky would handle his own.

"I'm already running behind and Val wants Barnes and I down early to practice responses." You looked at her, baffled. "And Ava can't do it?" Yelena raised her eyebrows at you. "It's a miracle Ava can do her own." True, unfortunately. "Yelena, you're kidding me right?" She walked closer to the couch you were sitting at. "He's a grown man, can't he do it himself?" "Yes, but unfortunately he's also a very slow learner too." You shook your head to yourself. "Have you even been in the tower for the past week, he won't even look at me right now," you whispered. She sighed to herself. "I know I know, and this would be a one time thing I promise, I just really need the help right now."

You leaned back into the couch and washed your hands over your face. "And not to be an instigator, but I think it would help you two also." You snorted at her sentence, taking your hands off your eyes to see how serious her face was. You took a deep breath and thought it over for a second or two. "Fine," you gave her, deadpanned. "But you owe me so much right now." Yelena let out a sigh of relief. "I really do, thank you." She dropped the makeup bag, presumably filled with the tools you'd need, in your lap, and bolted towards her room.

~~~~~

The door to the room loomed over your head, seemingly getting taller with every passing second you stood in front of it. Biting the bullet, you finally gave four slight knocks on his door, the same knock Yelena used for all of you. Yes, it was a bit of a trick, but you knew he wouldn't have let you in otherwise. You heard a soft, kind "Come in" from the other side of the door that made your heart warm up ever so slightly. You took a deep breath, and slowly opened the door. Your heart froze up again when you saw the way his smile dropped when you walked in. He was dressed in his usual attire for conferences, a pressed, slightly too big for him, tuxedo with dress shoes. But of course, his hair was in its natural, shaggy mess and you could spot any upcoming pimples from a mile away. Your job for the afternoon.

"What ar-" "Before you kick me out can I explain!" you jumped in before he could interject. He waited a second before nodding. "Yelena had to go downstairs early and doesn't have the time to get you ready, and before you ask, yes everyone else is too busy, and yes, I am your last resort."

His eyes darted away from you and to the ground, the most of an invitation over as you were gonna get. You took a seat on his partially made bed, observing the rest of his room. It took you a second to remember that you've never been in here before. It was a lot cleaner than you expected it to be. Then again, he spent almost all of his time in the tower, so he had a lot more time to clean than the rest of you did.

There were scattered band posters on the dark blue walls of the room, and a few collected rocks lying on his T.V. stand. You opened up the bag and took out his hair gel first. Val liked his long, overgrown hair to be slicked back for press events. You squirted some of the gel on your hands and lathered it deep into them.

When you went for his hair though, he moved his head slightly back away from you. You immediately put your hands down in response. "Okay, let's get this straight now," you snapped. "I get you're mad at me for whatever reason, but I'm not gonna take this from you right now, especially when I'm trying to help you. So either grow the fuck up, or you can do it yourself, okay?" His eyes widened a little bit. You were never the mean type towards anyone on the team, but when your limits were tested like this, you had no choice but to respond.

Putting back any feelings he had, he straightened up and leaned closer into you. "Thank you," you responded. "I'll be quick, I promise. Out of your bubble in no time." Your hands tangled into his hair, pushing the light brown strands back in straight lines. Before it would get tangled in by the gel, you could feel how soft his hair was. Even if it was overgrown, you could tell he took pride in it.

As you pushed his hair back into a makeshift mullet, making sure the gel wasn't ruining his curls at the bottom, you noticed something. Just out of your peripherals, you could see his eyes, darting every which way. They couldn't stay still for more than a second. Sometimes they would be at your shoulders, at your legs, your hair. Most of the time though, they were trying to find where you weren't. But each time, they would land magnetically back to you.

You couldn't help but let out a little laugh to yourself, a little breath out of your nose. "What?" Bob reflexively asked. You smiled and shook your head. "I really don't get you, man." His brows furrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?" Finally finished with his hair, you untangled your hands and brought them back to you, his eyes following them. "Bob, you're scared shitless of me."

A glow of pink wiped over his cheeks. "N-no I'm not." You laughed right in his face, as you went into the makeup bag and pulled out primer, foundation, and concealer. You squeezed lines of primer from the bottle onto his face. Before you could use your hands to rub it in though, he quickly grabbed your wrist again. Same way as before. You froze for a second before you realized, nothing was happening. You weren't going back in. You realized why when you looked at Bob's face, focused now more than you had ever seen before.

Your face and demeanor softened. "Bob." His face turned to yours, fear glazing over his eyes, trying desperately to keep the void from taking you again. You took his calloused fingers in your hands, peeling them away from your wrist and holding it with your own. You looked into his deep blue eyes, almost lost in them.

"I'm not scared of you."

His breath shook at your words, and you could've sworn you saw his eyes slightly water up. "I never have been. And I don't plan on changing that." The tension in his body melted away at those magic words. His lips pursed inwards as he looked down at your hands intertwined. "Can you trust me on that?" He gave a slight nod to you. You took his chin to your hand and pulled it up to look at you. His eyes were fully watery now. "Can you?" It took him a second.

".....I can."

You smiled at him.

"Thank you," he whispered. You closed your eyes and nodded to him. "You're welcome." The two of you sat for a moment like this, hands tangled in each other and observing each other's faces. You noticed how large his hands were. You never really considered your hands as small either, so the fact they were still much bigger than yours surprised you. They were restless as well, constantly moving between your own fingers, like they were getting a feel for how yours were. This was the most you had ever seen him before, in more ways than one.

Eventually, you let his hand go and cleared your throat. "Let's get you ready now, I'd rather avoid an earful from Val after the conference." Bob nodded and sat up straight again, as you rubbed the primer into his face with your thumbs. His slightly stubbled chin tickled the pads of your fingers in an almost hypnotic notion. Before you even knew it, your hands were staying caressing his face. Bob didn't seem to mind it, his eyes slowly closing, and even leaning his face into your touch further.

The two of you immediately snapped out of it at the sound of Bob's door slamming open. Mel stood at the door, panting, hand leaning against the frame for support. "What the hell is taking so long?" she asked frantically. "Uhhhhhh." The lack of an answer you two could come up with only angered her more. She rolled her eyes and pointed to you. "Get downstairs, I'll finish up with him." You looked back to Bob, smiled, gave his cheek a quick pat as you stood up and walked out the door.

Before Mel closed the door behind you, you caught Bob's eyes, hypnotically following you. As if he was searching for you. For more.

~~~~~~

Something shifted between the two of you after that day. No more avoidance. You found Bob coming to you for anything now. Whether he was having one of his bad days, needed help cleaning something up, or even if he just wanted to watch a movie with someone. Equally, you found yourself going to him for almost anything. Almost.

The main difference between the two of you was Bob had told you everything about him. You knew him like a book. Every page studied and memorized. But when he would ask you something about your past, you always managed to slither out of the question. You didn't mean to be so secretive around him. It was more of a reflex at this point. You'd done it with everyone. He was included in that group.

You could tell it hurt him though. Knowing there was some part of you that either didn't trust him enough to know, or maybe just didn't want him to know at all. Hopefully with time you'd be able to open up, not just to him, to everyone. But that's all the two of you could do for now. Hope.

A sign of that coming close had finally appeared, a new impulse crossing your mind. Dating.

For obvious reasons, relationships had never been a top priority for you. But as things were slowing down in your life, you began to feel left out of the "dating in NYC" craze. Without much experience under your belt, you decided to go through the dating app route. That proved to be more challenging than you thought. "I don't think men on here have ever had a conversation with a woman before," you'd complain to Bob or Ava constantly, usually followed by a large eye roll from them.

Lightning seemed to have struck though. On your way home from grocery shopping, you managed to bump into a guy at your bus stop. It was something straight out of a movie, the way the wind knocked of your cap and he had managed to catch it for you. The two of you spent the entire bus ride talking, and he eventually asked you for your number once you reached your stop. Tonight was date night. He had planned a special dinner in the city, and the two of you would go dancing after.

"Are you sure this guy's not like some stalker or something? You are a superhero after all, there's weird fans all over the city," Ava protested. Her and Bob were sitting in your room as you got ready. She sat on your light yellow beanbag on the floor, tossing a crumpled up paper with the address to the restaurant on it into the air. Bob was laying down on your bed, extra quiet today for some reason, staring up at the ceiling.

"He's not, I promise, Bob saw him too, he can vouch for me," you waved her off, looking in your mirror trying to do your makeup. You could see Ava look to Bob behind you through the mirror. She raised her eyebrow at him, which he just shrugged off. "I'd just prefer you not get kidnapped tonight, so try to avoid that if you can," she turned back to you. "Ava, if he's a normal citizen, I'll have zero problems defending myself, if anything happens," you defended. You sprayed some setting spray onto your face, and got up to change into your outfit.

Your bedroom had an attached bathroom, so you went in there to change. Once you closed the door, you took off your current sweats and baggy turtleneck sweater and slipped on your outfit. Your date asked you to go a little more formal than normal first date, so you specially picked out your outfit from your closet: a black boat-neckline midi dress, with a little thigh slit for less formal environments. It was gifted to you a few years back, but you hadn't worn it since. There was one glaring issue you noticed.

Throughout your time in the lab, you had obviously developed some scars. You didn't mind most of them, being electrocution scars, which made for some pretty cool war stories. Photoshoot photographers were particular fans of those. Some scars, however, weren't exactly your favorites. The specific one being a thick, prominent scar, starting at your right collarbone and trailing up to the back of your neck. It was fairly recent, compared to the rest of your scars, so the fading process was far from beginning. It was part of the reason you stuck to turtleneck fashion so much. But with this dress here, it was finally out in the open, something you weren't so sure you were comfortable with.

After convincing yourself though, you were willing to bite the bullet if it meant looking all dolled up for once. After a final examination in the bathroom mirror, you took a step out the door to show off to your friends. Both of them seemed to jump back to the positions they were in before you walked into the bathroom, almost like they were gossiping girls before. But once they noticed you, the air in the room stopped.

Ava was the first one to give out a little supportive holler when you stepped out, getting a little giggle from you. "What are you waiting for, give us a twirl!" she shouted. Obliging, you gave a little curtsey and spin. Turning to Bob, you could see a little smile curling up from this mouth. "So, what do you think?" you asked him, hoping for some words out of him today. "You look beautiful. Really really beautiful." There was a slight tint of melancholy in his words. You believed what he said, that was sincere. But his smile was actively lying to you.

His eyes spoke the truth though. You watched him as his eyes traced the way your dress hugged your body, highlighting all the beautiful parts of you, leaving little to the imagination. You saw his eyes stop at your collarbone, and his smile faded away. Just before you could see his mouth open to ask about it, you jumped right in. "Well, I better get going, I don't wanna miss my train," you frantically said, grabbing your kitten heels and strapping them on.

Ava and Bob followed you out of your room and towards the elevator out of the tower. Ava gave you a tight hug, whispering a little "Text me if you think he's a killer," before letting go. Bob's body seemed to stutter a little bit before giving you a hug. He had been more in control of the void spreading through his touch, but he was still cautious over it. His hugs always felt like home. The way he would squeeze you just the right amount and how well your chin fit into the crook of his neck. His hand sat comfortably just above your hips, with always his pinky finger straying a bit lower and tracing your upper thigh. When he let go he stayed close to you for a second, his eyes just slightly lower than where yours were. "Be safe, okay?' he asked with full sincerity. You nodded and let go just before getting into the elevator. "I will."

~~~~~~~

You rested your back against the elevator, back at the tower and up to your room after the long night. You checked your phone for a time. 2:24 am. Hopefully everyone else would be asleep when you got back.

The date wasn't bad. Not at all. In fact, it was one of the better ones you could remember going on. Dinner was nice and you went down to this jazz bar for some dancing. He walked you back to the tower and the two of you even shared a quick kiss.

So why did you feel so....weird? The circumstances were perfect for a second date. You like the guy, you really did. But something about him kept you from getting truly comfortable with him that night. The little things. The way he insisted to the waiter on splitting the bill, the way you had to stop every taxi for the two of you, the way he'd cut off your sentences. The way he couldn't stop looking at the scar poisoning your neck. That one really got you.

Maybe it was just your anxiety highlighting it, but it seemed every time his eyes would trail away from yours, they would land right on that scar. Like he was trying to subconsciously let you know it was there. As if you didn't have to take the work to try and cover it up every day of your life. That irked you most of all. You felt awful about it, it wasn't his fault it was there. But no matter how hard you tried, whenever you thought about going on a second date with him, you couldn't erase the look in his eyes out of your mind.

As you examined it in the mirror in the elevator, the doors slid open to an empty living room and kitchen floor. You wiped the tiredness off of your face and turned on a dim overhead lamp, setting your purse on the kitchen island to grab a quick water bottle. Your ears perked up when you heard some stirring from the couch area. Following the noise arose a head of shaggy brown hair. Your face softened and smile lifted when you saw his head turn around to find you. "Hi," you whispered just loud enough for him to hear. Bob replied with a sleepy "Hey," eyes still lowered.

"Whatcha doing out here, shouldn't you be in bed?" you asked, walking over to the couch. "Couldn't sleep...came out here to city watch and try to get sleepy." Your head turned to the massive windows overlooking the night city, still so alive. Bob let out a small yawn and reached his arm over to where you were standing. You took his hand, allowing him to guide you over to sit next to him on the couch. His position was slouched and comfortable, still half asleep. He rested his head into your shoulder, sending a little nervous shiver into you. "How was it?" he asked, eyes closing. You sighed. "Good." He chuckled under his breath. "What's that for?" you asked, pointing your eyes down to him. "Someone who went on a good date wouldn't just say it was 'good'," he slyly slurred out. Maybe this is why you never see Bob right after he wakes up. This Bob was kind of an asshole.

"What, can I not go on a date that's just 'good'?" you asked, getting slightly mad with him. "Someone as special as you shouldn't have to lower herself to going on dates that are just 'good'." The words trailed off in volume on the way out, almost like he didn't even know they came out in the first place. But you managed to catch them. And they sent butterflies down into your stomach, a pink glow to your cheeks, and a stupid grin to your mouth.

You looked down at him, resting on your shoulder. His body leaned perfectly into yours, filling all the empty space with his own. His delicate hands rested in his lap while his eyelashes tickled the upper parts of his cheek. And his hair, his beautiful hair, curled perfectly at the ends, grazing against the back of your neck with the air of The Watchtower. You could fall asleep with him here for days, in perfect, complete serenity.

"So why was it just 'good'?" he finally asked after what seemed like minutes of silence. You thought to yourself. "Cause I'm not gonna go on a second date." He lifted his head off of your shoulder and looked at him, with a slight concern on his droopy face. "Did something happen?" "No no no, I promise," you quickly shut down the idea. "It's just....." He sat more at attention, rubbing his eyes to try and wake up more. You both turned to look at each other, the sides of your faces resting on the couch cushions. "He was fine, great even....I just...." You tried to find the words to describe what you were feeling. "C'mon honey, talk to me," Bob slipped out, in a deep, sleepy voice that sent waves through you.

"I can't see him being able to deal with me," you finally spoke. "What makes you think that?" You sighed. You sat up a little bit and pulled your hair back behind your neck and lifted up your chin. "You saw this earlier right?" Bob gave a soft hum and a nod in response. "I got this a while back, back when I was still in the labs you saw in my nightmare." His eyes focused in on the scar, trying to make it out with the little light in the room. "I wanted to ask earlier, but I didn't wanna upset you," he spoke. "I know you don't like talking about it." You smiled a little at his ability to know you so well.

"Well, on one of the missions I was sent on back there, I got injured real bad. Broke my clavicle and they could only fix it through surgery. But I wouldn't necessarily call their doctors 'top of the line', so the cleanup was messy." You brushed your hair back onto the scar to cover it up. "One of the many souvenirs they gave me," you attempted to joke. Bob smiled a little bit at it, but was still focused on your skin. "Anyways, I don't like looking at it much, it's one of my uglier scars, and when other people catch it, I can't help but worry about what they're thinking."

"What d'you think he was thinking about?" Bob asked, slouching his head back into the couch to secretly admire you. You slouched back too. "About how much of a piece of work I'm gonna be," you chuckled out, even if the thought made you wanna cry. You could see that same sadness in Bob's eyes as they trailed up to your eyes. You sighed and looked away from him to the window outside. "This is why I don't date," you joked, wiping your face.

"Hey." You looked back at him. "Can I do something I'm gonna regret once I'm more awake?" You raised an eyebrow at the suspicious statement. "Okay." He sat a little closer to you, bringing up a hand to your hair, looking to you for approval. You gave him a soft hum as he pulled the hair behind your neck again, and softly traced his thumb over the scar, leaving goosebumps in its trail.

As gently as he could, he brought his face closer and pressed his lips softly onto your clavicle. Your breath hitched, causing him to bring his face back again. His eyes bore into yours, ready to give an apology if you requested. But your hand encouraged his actions, tangling into the back of his hair and pushing his lips back in.

Bob's lips danced over your scar, as your breath got heavier and hands tugged on his roots in approval. His hands found their way to your hips, caressing you in all the right spots. You fought to keep in any sounds your mouth wanted to let out from his touch. But right as you could feel yourself getting to the good part, Bob placed his final kiss, releasing you as well. You rested your head back as Bob stood up from the couch, lending a hand out to you. "It's late, we can talk more tomorrow, but you need your rest for now." Bob almost seemed to snap out of whatever lustful spell was just over him. Or maybe you took what just happened the wrong way. You tried to process it in your head as you took his hand and stood up with him.

Hand in hand, he led you to your room. As he opened the door and let you inside, he leaned over you on the door frame with one more message: "If a man looks at you and his first thought is of is how much work you'll be, he's no man at all."

~~~~~~~~

His words stuck in your heart for the next few days as the two of you tried to pretend that nothing happened. Drowsy Bob was right, Awake Bob apologized to you profusely the next morning, claiming he had no idea what came over him that night. "....I didn't mind it," you confessed after his apology. Made him blush faster than you thought was humanly possible. After a long, embarrassingly awkward conversation, the two of you decided on an agreement.

Whenever you were feeling bad about yourself, physically specifically, you could go to his room and he'd help you....feel better. You weren't fuck buddies, that was for sure. You just happened to be friends who'd kiss each other's bodies multiple times a week. And it made you absolutely insane.

You couldn't even go to Ava about this, since you and Bob agreed it was best if this was a secretive thing. Truth is, this whole ordeal was making you obsessed with the guy. You couldn't get him out of your head. Him being your roommate only made things worse. You couldn't escape from him. You'd never wanted someone this much before, it was driving you mad.

All the problems in relationships you felt before seemed to disappear with him. Since that night, you found yourself opening up more and more to him. You knew each chapter of each other's lives. And that made you really fucking happy. Having someone you could trust with yourself utterly, wholly, and completely.

The late nights where he'd do nothing but kiss and hold you, like he knew the magic of his touch. But you were greedy. You needed more of him, but all the uncertainty just got in the way.

You knew this wasn't just a thing "friends" did. But not knowing the exact details of how he felt for you kept you from asking for more. What if this was something friends did in his mind? What if the only thing he felt for you was based in lust? You'd rather not have that potentially friendship ruining conversation, so you decided to take the "suffer in silence" route instead.

That wasn't your biggest worry at the moment though. No, that spot in your mind was currently being overshadowed by the bullet wound in your side. You weren't gonna die, your powers would take care of that step for you, but it still hurt like a bullet wound. You'd spent a couple hours on the medbay floor of The Watchtower getting patched up, now on your way up to join the rest of the team.

The minute the elevator doors opened, you were greeted by a giant hug from Alexei, shouting Russian expressions of joy. As endearing as it was, you had to have the rest of the team peel him off of you, as he was two seconds away from opening up your stitches. Once you caught your breath, you greeted the rest of the team, all glad for your recovery. Your smile dropped a little, after scanning the members in the room. "Where's Bob?" you asked. "His therapist wanted to extend his session a little bit today," Bucky answered. You nodded a little to yourself. "You know when he'll be back?" you asked, trying not to sound too needy. "Soon enough," Yelena giggled.

....

"Does he know about..." you gestured to your bandages, slightly pink from any leftover blood. In almost miracle timing, Bob stepped out of the elevator and into your conversation. "Hey, what's-," he started, before looking at you clutching your side. His eyes widened with fear. "Oh my god what happened?!" he shouted, rushing over to you. "It's fine, I'm fine, I just didn't dodge very well today and someone caught me off guard." In combat, you usually tried to avoid the gunslingers and sword masters for hand-to-hand instead. You got more energy from absorbing bullet wounds and cuts, but on a pain scale, you'd rather deal with working up multiple punches to the nose.

As Bob questioned your pain scale, it almost seemed as if the other teammates were slowly leaving the room one by one, until only you two were left in it. The two of you naturally made your way to the couch and talked about your days for what seemed like hours. You went over battle strategies, he debriefed about his appointment. Eventually, noticing the sun going down, you started to become aware of all the dirt and blood still sticking to your body. "Um, can I use your tub? I need to get the day off me before I start peeling my skin off," you joked, standing up off of the couch. "Sure, whatever you need," he insisted, getting up with you. The only teammates with bathtubs instead of showers in their rooms were Bob and Bucky, and in all honesty, you just wanted to be near Bob's presence right now.

The mixture of dried blood, sweat, and dirt stuck your suit straight onto your skin as you made a painful attempt to peel it off. You dropped the clothes to the floor, and examined the damage in your mirror, unraveling all your littered bandages. Your stitches seemed to be doing okay, but the rest of the little cuts and bruises on you made themselves apparent. Your powers were useful in the moment, but damn did the aftercare suck.

Wrapping a towel around yourself, you walked over to Bob's room, leaving a soft knock on the door. A freshly bathed Bob opened up the door, now in his own baggy pajamas, his curls still wet and dripping. "I just wanted a to take a quick soak before you got in, I got a new round of hot water running for you." You gave him a little smile and stepped inside; he closed the door behind you. "Thanks." You walked into the steaming bathroom, tub filled to the brim with hot water like he said. Bob's bathroom was a cozy, dimly lit room that smelled just like him; eucalyptus and peppermint oil, incense cones, and a touch of his cologne. It calmed you down almost immediately, and enough for you to ask your question.

"Can you...uh...help me while I'm in there?" you nervously asked. He raised his eyebrow a little bit at the question. "I-It just hurts to turn a little and I need to reach some spots on my back." He looked you over while he deliberated. "I don't wanna sound rude or anything but...you sure you're okay with me....seeing you?" he whispered that last little part. "I'm wearing a bathing suit under here, I don't mind you seeing that at least," you replied, anticipating his concern. "Oh....okay, yeah sure," he replied, scratching the back of his head.

You dropped your towel and placed it hanging over the sink. The black bikini you were wearing covered enough of you, but still allowed all your injuries to be visible. That first step into the tub was heavenly, the heat rolling down off your spine with a slight, but welcome tinge of pain. You closed your eyes and melted down into the water, Bob smiling at your relaxation. "God, I needed this," you breathed out. Bob walked up closer to you, sitting on the edge of the tub.

You sat there for a minute, body absorbing the heat and releasing the built up tension in your muscles from the day. Once you finally opened your eyes, you found Bob's eyes grazing over your body. "What is it?" you asked. A stupid grin found its way to his face, as he readjusted himself to begin helping you. "Nothing, don't worry."

Bob took a nearby loofa and his body wash, about to squeeze some onto it before you put your hand out. "This is gonna sound weird....can you use your hands?" You didn't bother giving an explanation, it wouldn't change the implications of that request. Bob gave a little nod. "Wait just, give me a sec." He quickly got up out of the room, closing the door behind him. You sat there within your own thoughts. Fuck, was that too much? you thought to yourself, praying you didn't scare him off.

After a few anxious minutes, Bob opened up the door, leaving you with a sight that made your heart stop.

He had traded in his pajamas for a pair of swim shorts. You had to fight to keep your jaw from going slack at the sight of him without a shirt on. He wasn't kidding, that serum really did do a lot of work.

First of all, you had seen his arm muscles before, frequently on display whenever he would wear a short sleeve shirt. But paired with his perfectly plumped chest, carved abs, and toned thighs, it was enough to kill a horse. Worst of all however, was his swim boxers, with a very flawed detail: they were about two sizes too small, and you couldn't tell if Bob was aware or not, but you could see it. It was bigger than you thought. You would need a tranquilizer to hide the blush on your face right now.

"I figured it'd be easier to just get in and help, and this is my only pair of trunks.....is it too much?" So he didn't know, huh. You swallowed back any urges you had and sat up a little bit more in the tub. "No, you're fine," you said, pushing your body back to make room for him in the small tub. He shuffled up and gently placed his legs in one by one, sinking in in front of you.

Bob took the body wash again, pouring some and lathering it between his hands. He motioned you to turn around so he could get your back area. Your back showed him about five scattered cuts and scratches and two large bruises by your lats. You could hear his breath shake a bit as he got closer to you. Naturally, you straightened out your back for him to work with a better canvas.

A sigh instinctively came out of your mouth when his hands came down on you, lathering the soap over your skin. His hands worked into you like putty, spreading the bubbles out evenly onto you. The callouses scratched onto your skin, and you felt a deep heat brewing into your chest. It only grew stronger when his fingers started digging into your muscles. Pain oozed out and away as his thumbs worked out the knots in your upper back. You had to bring a hand up to your mouth to keep a pleasurably moan from slipping out.

The deeper his fingers got into you, the more your body began to twitch, itching for more. The water sloshed around a little when you began to move back into him. And thats when you felt it. Your breath hitched when you caught it. He was achingly big, and you could tell by the throbbing you felt on your lower back. He must've noticed you felt it, since his fingers stopped moving. The two of you sat there for a minute in a hot tension.

Eventually, he picked up a cup sitting outside of the tub, filled it with the bathwater, and poured the soap off of your back. Putting it down, he inched slightly closer to you, his hands finding their way again back to your hips like so many times before. "Tell me where it hurts," he whispered into your ear. You tried to shake out your shivers and be honest with him, your mind needing him in one place but your body wanting him everywhere.

You took the safe route. You needed to keep control of yourself. As long as you could at least.

You pointed to a spot along your spine where one of the bruises lay. "Bend forward a little bit," he spoke, in that low, sultry voice again, almost commanding you. You listened. You moved. But unfortunately, you couldn't keep the moan inside you anymore when his lips grazed and kissed over the bruise. You could keep it quiet enough for him to, hopefully, not hear it however.

Your body adjusted and moved to fit him as his lips trailed up your spine, and eventually to the nape of your neck. He sucked on the tender skin, desperation in its trail. Before he could get too carried away though, he pulled himself off of you. His hot breath stuck to your back, as he took a moment to splash some of the steaming water onto his face. After clearing his throat, he asked you to turn back around and face him, which you did of course.

Finding his face, you could finally see the display of his emotions. The main one: a drunken look in his eyes to desperately hide a growing lust. You could tell. It was the same look in yours. Trying to continue with the bath, Bob took some more body was and drizzled it out onto your arms and upper chest. Sure, you could reach those parts of yourself fine, but what's wrong with letting a man take care of you every once in a while. And if this was how he was gonna do it, you'd be glad to give in.

He massaged the soap into your skin again, relaxing your tense arm muscles, a little gentler around your chest and collarbone area. He pressed a deep kiss into your clavicle scar, a tick for him at this point. His eyes stayed down on you, examining the way your skin fit onto your body. You brought your hand to meet his, currently pressing gentle circles onto your tricep. His eyes found a nice spot, staring at your lips, with you back at his. Trembles started to infect his hands and you could even see a slight quiver stain his lip.

"Does it hurt...anywhere here?" he gasped out. Taking the opportunity, you slowly brought your finger up to the tiniest cut you had on your chin. Smiling, he went in, almost taking your entire chin into his mouth. Your hands wrapped around his neck as his mouth moved to press sloppy kisses into your jawline. But that's all where he stayed. And you needed more than that.

Enough with the teasing, you let go of his neck and took his face in your hands, pulling his mouth away from you. He looked at you, beautiful, deep blue puppy eyes mixed with questioning and fear. "Do you remember what I told you Bob? When I was helping you get ready for the conference?" The fear left his eyes, as he realized what you were playing with here. "Remind me...." You smirked at his words. "When are you ever gonna stop being afraid of me?" you asked, eyes glued to his lips. He dropped his head and let out a defeated laugh. "It's never been you that I'm scared of....it's always been myself," he said, lifting his head back up and closer to yours. "And why's that?" The corner of his mouth lifted up as his hand went to cup your jaw, caressing it with his thumb. "Because I have to keep myself from tearing off my clothes and taking you in the living room each time you walk through that elevator."

Before you could respond to what he said, your body started moving on its own, slamming your lips into his, sloshing water everywhere. The kiss you shared was needy, hungry, and slow. Different from the ones he left littered over your body in the past. What surprised you the most about it was what fueled it. This was not a lustful kiss, which is what you had expected from him. This kiss was filled with a pure, tender, and firing love the two of you have silently shared for each other for the past few months.

His hands wrapped around your waist, hugging you closer into him and onto his laugh, where his raging erection made itself more apparent by the second. "You need me that bad, huh?" you teased, breaking away from the makeout and grinding your clothed cunt against it. Bob nodded profusely, leaning back into you to chase your lips, which you pulled back from. You bit your lip and smiled, wooed by his desperation for you. "Someone's excited, huh?" you joked. "Well, I'd rather not get waterlogged here, so how about we dry off, get these swimsuits off, and...." you leaned close to his ear. "...you can take me on your bed any way you want, how's that sound loverboy?" you bit down onto his earlobe

Bob let out a whispered moan and dropped his head into your shoulder, pressing soft kissed into it. "Yes, please," he replied. Before getting up though, he pulled you into a close hug, which you returned gladly. Bob may have a secret, shameful side you didn't know about, but at the end of the day, you couldn't take the lover out of him.

The two of you stepped out of the bathtub, drained the water, and took your towels to dry yourselves off. Once you were dried, you opened the bathroom door, releasing the steamy air into the rest of Bob room. The cold tinged both your skin, as you walked hand in hand to his bed. You were first to undress, slipping off your bikini bottoms and untying your top off. Bob could've sworn his life flashed before his eyes at that moment, as he admired your beautiful body. He quickly kicked off his trunks, allowing his cock to finally spring out to life. He playfully ran up and tackled you onto his bed, kissing into you neck as you let out playful giggles.

His mouth eventually found its way up to yours, as the two of you slipped each other's tongues into your mouths. His hands gently swept you underneath him on the bed, still careful with your injury. "I-fuck, I wanna taste you," he gasped out while you sucked marks onto his neck. "Do it," you whispered into his neck, giving it a little nibble.

He giggled to himself, as his mouth traced kissed down your neck, sternum, and stomach, all the way down to your hips. You lifted your head to look down at him. He smiled up at you as his hands grabbed into your thighs, bending your legs up. His thumb grazed along your leaking folds, already sending shivers into you. "You're so....beautiful," you could hear him whisper just before leaving his first of many soft kisses on your slit. His tongue slowly worked itself over your clit, as one of your hands found its way down into the roots of his hair.

For leverage, you pulled slight tugs onto his hair, which drove Bob bananas. Each pull only drove him further into your pussy, absorbing his own whines and moans. His tongue worked over each of your lips, memorizing the way it made his taste buds react. You tasted so good, he could sit here eating you for hours. Looking down at the sight underneath you only pushed you closer to the edge. His messy, slightly damp curls intertwined with your fingers, as he sloppily ate your pussy, juice dripping down the sides of his mouth. Game changer moment was when he brought in his digits, curling his pointer and middle finger into your swollen cunt.

An exaggerated moan of his name left your mouth, as your hips buckled into his hand, begging for more. "C'mon, you're doing so good for me baby, keep it up," he spoke into your inner thigh, leaving a little love bite in there that left you biting your tongue. As his fingers worked inside you, you wriggled over the sheets, trying to chase an oncoming high. "You're so perfect sweetheart, so perfect for me," he continuously praised.

The twitch in your lower stomach grew more powerful with the seconds, as fingers continued to hit your walls perfect, his teeth grazed your clit, and hot breath washed over you. "Bob, I-I," you started to moan out. "Do it for me baby, come for me here."

As the high washed over your body, a final moan rushed out, paired with another hip buckle and legs a twitching mess as Bob kissed into your pussy. Your juice coated all over his fingers, which added more growth to his member, if that was even possible right now. His fingers slid perfectly out of your aching pussy and into his own mouth, as he got a better taste for you. A smile curled its way onto his mouth as he sat back on his knees, watching you come down from your high.

Bob couldn't help but crawl back up to you. He had to watch this moment with his own eyes. Your heavy breaths hit his face as he leaned on his elbows to perfectly lay over him. Your cheeks glowed a heavy pink as you came down from your orgasm. "Was that good?" he asks. You couldn't help but let out at laugh at the question. Good? Did he see what happened just now? "You're adorable," you validated, love-drunk eyes gazing into his own.

He let a breath out of his nose, and dropped his whole body weight down onto you. You cried out in a fake pain and your body absorbed his heat into you. "Get off, you're killing me!" you joked. He shook his head vigorously. "No, you gotta do it yourself," he played back. You giggled and used whatever strength you had left over to try and push him off. To no avail of course. "Alright, you gotta help just a little, you're pure muscle sweetie." Bob sighed and lifted his body off of you just enough for you to roll him to the other side of the bed.

Before he could move again, you jumped on top of him, placing your own dead weight on top of him now. "You see, I'd play along now, but I'm scared I'd toss you off the bed," he said. True, best not to play games like this with someone who has super strength. "Ugh, no fair," you complained, dropping your head into his neck. You heard his awkwardly adorable laugh, making your heart soar, as he scratched the back of your head.

"C'mere, let me see you," he asked gently. You lifted your head up, a fake frown plastered on your face. The act didn't last long though when you saw his face.

The way he looked at you right now was the way girls had dreamed about since they were kids. His eyes softened with pure adoration for you, with his mouth curled into the dumbest grin. He spoke your name in a question. "Yeah?" He brought his hand up to cup your jaw, which you nuzzled your cheek into as his thumb traced over your lips. "I....I think..." he trailed off. "What is it?" His smile turned slightly more serious. "I think I love you." He paused. "I know I do."

If it weren't for his body heat grounding you into the moment, you would've sworn you were dreaming right now. Everything you've ever wanted was right here. It was all in him. It was him.

"I know I love you too."

The giddy look on his face could set you free, as both his hands grabbed your cheeks to pull you into his kiss stained lips. The two of you continued to kiss and roll all over the bed, as you prepared to continue the rest of your love filled night.

~~~~~~

Sun rays streamed through the breaks in the blinds of Bob's room. Your eyes attempted to adjust to the brightness as you awoke. Wrapped up in his sheets, blooming with his scent, you began to remember the dreamlike events of the night before. You turned to the other side of the bed, and there he was.

Like a painting, Bob laid next to you, still off in his hopefully pleasant dreams. Loose strand of hair fell in front of his sleeping face, his mouth slightly agape to breathe, still swollen lips. In fact, all of your souvenirs from the night before laid over him: scattered hickeys along his neck and shoulders, and nail scratches peeking over from his upper back. It was perfect. He was perfect.

His breath readjusted as he began to stir a bit, and finally, his lashes fluttered open to see you. A childlike smile painted your face as you saw his sleepy eyes adjust to you. "Good morning sleepyhead," you pressed into the tip of his nose as you kissed it. He smiled an eyes closed one to you. "Morning honey." You had found out last night how much of a pet-name user Bob was. You didn't mind at all. It only helped seal the "it feels like i'm in a movie" idea for you. "How'd you sleep," he asked with his eyes still closed. "Good, great even," you hummed. "And you?" His eyes opened and he leaned in closer to you to kiss you silly. "Best in years, honest truth."

After some morning talk, Bob got up to go to the kitchen, leaving you with some extra minutes for sleep. When he returned, it was with a plate of breakfast on a tray just for the two of you. It took a miracle for you not to jump over the bed and onto him then and there. The plate for you included all your favorites: blueberry Eggos, orange slices, and eggs. These weren't your usual eggs though. "I know you like them burnt, but by the time I remembered, I had taken them out of the pan and these were the last two," he apologized.

You inspected the eggs with your fork. It scared you a little, but you'd rather risk a stomach ache than hurt Bob's feelings right now. And plus, it was time to finally grow up. Taking them onto your fork, you took a deep breath, and put them in your mouth.

Chew, chew, chew. Swallow.

God, these were so much better than rubbery, burnt eggs. "These are so fucking good Bob, oh my god," you salivated. He smiled that dumb grin and climbed into bed next to you, as the two of you continued the rest of your morning together. It was nice to know you didn't have to burn your eggs anymore. The other side was better than you could've imagined.

a.n: AND THATS IT i hope you liked it lol. this is by FARRRRR the longest fic i've ever written and it took like a week and a half to write rip so i hope you all enjoyed it. please leave a note or interact if you did, i'd really appreciate it. alright thank you so much again, catch you on the next one BYEEEEEE

#bob reynolds x reader #sentry x reader #the void x reader #bob reynolds #bob #sentry #the void #thunderbolts #mcu #mcu smut #mcu fanfic #marvel mcu #marvel #marvel x reader #thunderbolts x reader #the new avengers #fanfic #x reader

2K notes · View notes

godjo · 1 year ago

Text

✮ — altar girl.

hasn’t it been written that wherever the fire of evil blazes, a god will be there to douse it? but who saves the damned if a god kindled the fire?

tags — true form!sukuna x concubine/f!reader. 3k wc. explicit smut. dubcon at first (trust me in this one pls). exhibitionism. thigh riding. doggy style. manhandling. rough sex. womb fucking. humongous cock!sukuna (hello???). multiple orgasms. mindbreak. drool. cunnilingus bordering on tongue-fucking. orgasm denial once. he carries you. creampie. lots of cum. fuckton of religious symbolism. physical violence against the reader but not from sukuna. sukuna calls you brat like one time. minors, ageless, and blank blogs dni.

from hunter — not to be dramatic or whatever but i do feel like this fic took a huge chunk off of my sanity … the things i do for sukuna omg … if this flops i will officially retire from tumblr /j + also it's 3 am for me so i didn't proofread the last bits and i prolly got lazy ... ha ha ... ✮

gods exist.

the annals of history tell us so.

they exist in a way that no mortal can comprehend, for a god is more than a face. they leave their imprints not with their feet but with the rise and fall of dynasties, the ruination of empires, and the death of kings. they materialize as the birth of a deluge and they rise as the reason for war. it is not the body that proves their existence but the carnage they leave behind.

they have manifested before human eyes through myriad guises, and once again incarnated in the flesh of ryomen sukuna.

many have met their untimely demise at his hands; he walks the earth with their tormented souls at his feet. from village to village, their numbers increased until a procession of weeping thickened behind him. hundreds of graves mark the land since his advent, and yet the heavens remain deaf to the hysterical prayers for justice. only he can hear the prayers; only he laughs at them.

they say he is a devil. you say he is a god. because only a god can saturate the earth with blood and emerge unpunished from such transgression. hasn’t it been written that wherever the fire of evil blazes, a god will be there to douse it? but who saves the damned if a god kindled the fire?

ryomen sukuna, in a form of some twisted mockery, decides to act the part. and so like every famished god, he demands a sacrifice to satisfy his voracious appetite. you would think that a house of gold would placate his hunger for blood, but riches mean nothing to him. his appetite needs flesh and it is flesh he got.

“have i been too lenient that you’d dare fight amongst yourselves when i’m not around?” his voice reverberates inside the room. low, guttural, and pregnant with malice. it is enough to scorch everyone’s lungs with tension.

you want to run away from this nightmare. go back to the peaceful bliss of mundanity when sukuna is only a piece of horrifying tale used to frighten children and not an absolute being seated cross-legged mere inches away. you try transporting your mind back to the days before his pillaging, before your village succumbed to his authority. yet his pervasive presence obstructs all your pathetic attempts at nostalgia.

“look at what you did to the poor girl.” two of his four hands sweep you from your position to his lap, parading you to the rest of tearful eyes looking at him with entreaty.

and it stings— their eyes. you’re in the claw of a savage hound from hell, ready to be devoured, with only your hadajuban as protection. even in this pitiful state, they offer no sympathy. their tears are for themselves alone despite their cruelty being the reason for your shared plight.

selfish bitches.

“was it jealousy that caused this infighting? have i not divided my attention to all of you equally?” sukuna continuously taunts, lacing his voice with poisonous prudence. he fools no one and that’s what urges him forward. everyone knows that his seemingly laidback attitude is plain derision. nonetheless, he tastes the lingering hope in each of your faces before dragging his teeth along such pathetic daydreams.

“y… you have, my lord,” one of the women answers, her voice betraying a noticeable stutter. “if you would permit me to speak, i can offer his lordship an explanation for what transpired in the courtyard.”

sukuna emits a languid sigh as he rests his cheek upon his fist. he runs a rough hand down your arm, triggering vibration in the pit of your stomach. his hand is as huge as your face, his fingers long enough to snap your neck with ease. despite the surge of terror, you fight the urge to retch.

after a moment of battling your dread, it’s repulsion that filled you afterwards. repulsion rising from the woman’s explanation for your wretched state. the rest of the women nod their heads along with her account of how you tripped on a slippery stone multiple times, causing your current injuries, as if you’re a toddler who cannot orient her legs properly.

they will save themselves with falsehood.

sukuna yawns after the woman’s narration. his set of eyes seeking you after in the silence.

“this matter is of your stupidity, then? you’ve wasted my time, brat.” he dips his cadence in amusement and disgust.

anger flares within you, filling your nose and ears with the bitter scent of hatred, yet its heat descended down your throat, dampening your ability to defend yourself. what is one against many? there are twenty concubines in this room and nineteen of them just sold you to your demise for unintentionally raising this trifle to the lord of the land.

all of this— all of this merely because they have immersed themselves in playing a game in which you’ve been excluded since your arrival. after all, you’re just another competition for sukuna’s attention.

“have mercy, my lord,” you whisper, on the verge of losing your sentience. “i… i mean no disrespect. it’s… it’s stupid of me—”

sukuna drawls, “speak no more of your nonsense. i have heard enough.”

distressed apologies race past your mouth, along with entreaties that he spares your life. but you should’ve known that a god won’t turn his back on the sacrifice of blood.

thus, when his enormous body finally moves to encase your fragility, you close your eyes and with jittering teeth have accepted your fate. you wait for the final release of death, a snap or his fist through your heart, but none came. instead, at your feet lay your torn garments, casting your nakedness before the other concubines in a humiliating display. the crisp air blows against your nipples, causing them to pucker tight. the same air turns your blood gelid, your bones immovable.

“now, let’s see what all the fuss is about.” from behind, sukuna gropes your breasts, swirling the tips of your nipples with his fingers. “i’ll kill anyone who looks away.” the warning is vehement, ripe with threat, that even mere insects won’t dare defy it.

is this the ultimate act of worship? to be stripped of all your layers? to be eaten?

his lips latch onto the bareness of your neck, sharp teeth dragging across the skin. the silence is thick, saved for the sound of your uneven breathing and the rustling of fabric as the concubines shift uncomfortably on their seats. sukuna’s wet and unusually long tongue starts licking the base of your shoulder to the back of your ear, before placing his thick and robust thigh between your quivering legs.

your exposed cunt sticks to his skin, pussy folds flapping open. with practiced ease, as if manipulating the strings of a marionette, he subtly guided your movements. he has your pulsing clit riding the ridges of his thigh as if gushing all over will save you from inevitable demise.

“m… mhm!” no longer entirely in control of your own form, you turn and sway in a helpless dance to his hands’ command. a gasp tinged with surprise and undeniable pleasure, escapes your lips and echoes softly in the confines of the room. you feel the searing heat of the concubines’ gazes drilling into you, a tangible weight of disapproval and something more primal — a flicker of envious fascination.

“for a condemned woman, aren’t you loving this too much?” sukuna takes the reins to your body. with speed that has your heavy tits bouncing, he secures your waist and drags your slick pussy faster and more recklessly.

pleasure, sharp and electric at first, surges through your core, blossoming outwards like a firework. your cunt clenches and unclenches involuntarily, a delicious tremor wracking your body. the world narrows, sound and sight fading at the edges as every nerve ending sings with a single, glorious purpose. slowly, the intensity ebbs to leave a pleasant afterglow that paints your limbs with a newfound weight.

you’re but a tiny speck compared to sukuna’s imposing body; a feeble creature under the jurisdiction of a god.

possessive hands have found you in your fleeting refuge, scooping your lower body up like you weigh nothing. with the tip of his finger he traces the curve of your spine, pressing enough weight to flatten your stomach against the tatami mat.

“even your back is filled with lacerations,” he points out brusquely.

sukuna’s hefty cock drops to the base of your spine, its puffed up cocktip lazily pulsing to leak his thick liquids of pre-ejaculate. it must’ve been a whole arm laying heavy against your spine, warm with a gluttonous desire to ram itself through the sloppy confines of your pussy.

and you lay there, waiting for his teeth and his claws and his animalistic hunger to devour. he presses his chest to your back, filling your ears with promises that he’s going to feed on you, eat you down to the marrow of your bones— and you’ll love it.

“look at them,” sukuna hisses as he tugs at your forehead, “i want you to look at them while i fuck you.”

with your flesh you’ve received him like some kind of communion from root to tip. he hammers your cunt with his cock, until the heat of his savage lust reaches the pit of your belly. you feel his warmth soiling your cervix and uterus with every vigorous thrust.

“oh! m… mhm!” completely overtaken by sukuna, your thighs can only twitch as he destroys your insides.

“you’re soaking wet,” he groans in your ear, deliberately adjusting his pace so he can coat his thick girth all over with your creamy hole, “and so fucking tight.”

sukuna grunts like a wounded animal each time his cocktip kisses the smooth spot of your womb. a sheen of sweat glazes his body, tattoos aglow in the lanterns, from manically fucking your cunt. he bares his fangs whenever you tighten around his shaft enfolded with prominent and proud veins.

the once vibrant forms of the concubines, their faces alight with prurient interest, dissolve into a sea of indistinct shapes as fog descends upon your sight. you’ve been reduced to a babbling and drooling mess, unable to grasp the reality that you’re being mounted and fucked to madness before several witnesses.

sukuna extends his hand, searching for your abandoned clit during his primal need to turn your pussy to pulp.

“there it is,” he breathes against your clammy cheek, satisfied at his discovery.

“n… no! not there…!” you pant as the last thread of reason frays and snaps.

a tempestuous force of pleasure sweeps through you, leaving behind a tremor that has shaken you to the core. around you, a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations spins until a guttural moan runs from your lips, delivered by the exquisite torment of rapture. your nails scrape desperately across the tatami mat, clinging at the remnants of spilled sanity.

sukuna cackles at your desperation to find a moment’s reprieve. the roughened end of his fingers dip into your yielding flesh as he forcefully slams your pussy back to his cock.

“you’re not going anywhere,” he pronounces frenziedly, his eyes blowing wide. sukuna’s desperation for release intensifies to the point where he’s blatantly manhandling you, brutalizing your cunt and his cock during the process of reaching zenith. flesh meets flesh, fervid thrusts after fervid thrusts, until he feels that familiar coil in his own stomach.

sukuna plugs your abused cunt with inconceivable amounts of cum. his cock pulses wildly, shooting globules straight to your womb it’s almost physically possible to feel his viscous cum filling every crevice of your uterus. when he’s finally pulled out, ropy cum still links his raw cocktip to your pulsing pussy hole. despite such a mind-numbing culmination, sukuna’s cock refuses to yield. it springs up proudly, aching for another taste.

“what a sight,” sukuna issues with cavernous and demonic utterance, pertaining to your body lying inert upon the tatami mat. he sweeps the sodden hair from his brow with a lordly air, his pride evident in the contemptuous curve of his lips.

look at the state he’s reduced you to. his thick ejaculation pools around your lower body because your little pussy can’t hold all of him. with an indifferent shrug, sukuna lowers his formidable body to your level. and only when the malevolent glint in his eyes becomes apparent does the gravity of the situation dawn upon you.

he starts fucking your cunt with his tongue.

you grit your teeth in response as sukuna places your knees upon his shoulders, burying the slimy width of his tongue in your heated pussy. it’s no mere licking— he’s practically shoved his tongue up your gummy walls, toying with the warmth of his cum pooled in your poor cunt while simultaneously licking your puffed up clit.

“o… oh! c… can’t— please, please!” drool seeps between your gritted cuspids after your hysterical plea.

pearlescent tears warm the corner of your eyes. your sensitivity from his rigorous fucking has not yet abated, but another swell of release approaches at a hand’s reach. down to your heart, the bundles of nerves and veins constrict painfully because it’s too much. you have nowhere else to put the pleasure— the imminent pinnacle will utterly ruin you.

i’m losing my mind

i’m losing my mind—

when ecstasy is but a heartbeat away, sukuna withdraws, denying you the finality your body craves. as if saved from drowning, you suck in and grace your lungs with air only to be propelled back to the brink of delirium when he lifts you up from the floor like a breeze.

with carnal ferocity, he seizes the meaty flesh of your haunches with two of his limbs, while the others secure your torso. there and there, sukuna slots his insatiable cock in your dribbling cunt; an act that he’s accomplished without effort because you’re so wet, he’s slid right in.

everyone has witnessed sukuna’s cock abusing your tingling pussy; all can see how he bounces your tingling cunt along his stiff length without strain.

“yes… squeeze my cock like the obedient girl you are,” he sibilates on your face, followed by a harsh chuckle. “you can’t hear me now, can you?”

the voice is a distant echo, barely perceptible to your waning senses. your body, devoid of strength, limps completely in sukuna’s embrace. he buries his face in the crooks of your damped neck, groaning and babbling as he ruts into your swollen pussy.

“how come you’re still so fucking tight?”

hasn’t he prepared you for his sheer girth? hasn’t he stimulated your pussy enough to hug his cock smoothly and effortlessly? you’ve already coated his balls shiny with all the slick your cunt has produced, but sukuna’s chest tightens because you’re milking him with a viselike grip.

yes, it is human that he’s even affected by this carnal desire. what more can he do? he feels faint with exultation merely by fucking you.

sukuna pumps your pussy to the hilt with slow yet profound thrusts. he bares his teeth down the blade of your shoulder as the maelstrom of release engulfs him completely. battered by waves of ecstasy, he grunts with your flesh between his teeth, the rough sound reverberating deep from his belly.

you must’ve reached the peak with him— you absolutely cannot tell. the only thing that your puddled mind can grasp is the swirl of his potent cum in the pit of your womb and the endless pulse of your cunt as you struggle to accommodate his release.

petrified and silent, the remaining concubines are as fixed in place as if struck by an immobilizing spell. yet they watch— they watch intently while sukuna’s cock throbs with white strings of cum dripping from your cunt hole down to his balls and thighs. a hefty amount pools beneath him, oozing from where the both of you are connected.

the envy that consumed them is a silent, suffocating thing, a palpable presence thick enough to choke. this envy deepens as they witness the delicacy with which sukuna has placed your dormant body on his own tatami mat. they grit their teeth secretly, throwing every known curse your way. may your womb not bear the fruits of sukuna’s seed, they vehemently pray.

for ryomen sukuna, it’s nothing but a moment’s weakness, a foreign string of unknown emotion that you’ve managed to evoke from him. and even though he’s beyond human grace, he’s wasted your body to his own satisfaction, it’s only right to touch you with his claws retracted.

“performance is over, my dearests,” sukuna announces while a smirk tugs at his lips. facing his concubines, he dons his fundoshi haphazardly that it barely covers what it means to hide.

“w… what will become of her, my lord?” one dares to ask.

a fleeting, imperious gaze from sukuna sweeps over you before ushering the women from the opulent chamber. “you shouldn’t worry yourselves about such trivial matters. she will meet her own reckoning by my hands.”

a wave of malicious satisfaction ripples through the group as they exchange covert nods. you’re already a dead woman. with poisonous glee, they bow before ryomen sukuna with their faces shaped in unbridled mirth.

“make sure that my wives are accompanied home safely,” sukuna orders the nearest guards. he tastes their fear hanging heavy in the air just by being in his presence. oh, humans.

as the group began to retreat, they cast over their shoulders a flurry of flirtatious farewells to the imposing sukuna. however, before they could vanish entirely from sight, his deep voice cut through their progress.

“guards, before i forgot…” sukuna displays a grotesque smile filled with malice. “kill them all. i want nineteen heads on my feet tomorrow.”

they say he is a devil.

you say he is a god.

and despite all the names, sukuna has found himself a place of worship, with you as his altar.

#mine ✮#tw dubcon #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x y/n #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n

2K notes · View notes

waywardxrhea · 1 year ago

Text

Heart's Desire - Spencer Reid

part 2 | part 3

pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!fem!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 9.58k

When working a serial killer case in Tennessee, you become the bait for a violent unsub whose victims all match your description. When going after the man you collapse and are rushed to the hospital for medical treatment.

a/n: so yes, this is a Reader one shot, but it is super niche so...whoops? this honestly was just a super self-indulgent fic for me to write because i can't say i have ever seen the heart condition i had presented in the media and i really wanted to explore how Spencer may interact with it, so here we are! this is my first time writing for the criminal minds fandom, so shout out to my bestie who helped me out with coming up with case details and smaller plot points that have been incorporated into this little one shot!

content: fluff (oh how i adore the fluff in this one!), multilingual Reader, secret relationship, implied smut (if you squint lol), insecure Reader, Reader fits the victimology, graphic description of canon level violence, Reader is bait for the unsub, protective Spencer, mentions of jealous and possessive Spencer, language, medical emergencies, small medical inaccuracies (no AED on the scene - i had to do it for the drama don't judge), crying Spencer.

(not my gif), CM dividers by @firefly-graphics , EKG dividers by me

“Good morning, beautiful,” you heard Spencer’s sleep ridden voice mumble from behind you as you began to stir awake with the sun that was filtering in through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom. The two of you had just gotten back from a case the day before and you were utterly exhausted. All you wanted to do was sleep in, and although he had bought blackout curtains for this exact reason, the sun still somehow managed to slip through, which you cursed the manufacturer for every time…

You flipped around in his arms to face him and sent a sleepy smile at him before mumbling, “Bonjour mon amour.”

“Oh, so it’s a French morning?” Spencer asked with a quiet chuckle as he took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles.

“I was debating between that and Italian, but… French usually gets us to where I would love to spend this free day with you,” you replied with a smirk before leaning up to kiss him.

After a few slow and loving kisses, Spencer pulled away for a brief moment to rest his forehead on yours and say, “You know, since we just got back from a case out of state that took so long to solve, the odds of the team getting called back out are significantly lower than if-”

And then your phones started ringing.

“What were you saying about the odds being low?” you muttered with a sigh as you turned back over in the bed and grabbed your phone off of the nightstand. You heard the automated voice on the other side tell you that there was a case the BAU was requested to work and that your presence was requested as soon as possible.

As you sighed and closed your eyes briefly while you tried to sink back into the pillow, Spencer noted, “Well I did say the odds were low, not zero…” You couldn’t help the smile that slipped onto your lips at the comment as you laughed and lightly hit him in the bare chest with a throw pillow.

“‘Never tell me the odds,’” you told him as you reluctantly began getting out of bed, sitting up on the edge and stretching to wake up your tired muscles.

Spencer positioned himself to where his legs were on either side of you and wrapped his arms around your torso before kissing your neck and mumbling, “No matter how many times you quote Han Solo at me, it’s not gonna stop me from telling you the odds of things, you know that right?”

“I know, I know…” you told him with a giggle as you toyed with his hands that were clasped in front of your stomach. “How far apart do we have to leave again so they aren’t suspicious?”

“Well, your apartment is about a thirty minute commute from the office while mine is twenty depending on traffic, so you'll leave ten minutes after me,” he reminded you as you both began to get up and untangle yourselves from each other. “I have an extra go-bag packed for you in the closet as well as a few outfits so you aren’t wearing the same clothes you came home in yesterday.”

“You’re the best, Spence,” you told him quietly as you both made your way into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

As you jumped into the shower to take advantage of your extra ten minutes, you thought about your relationship with Spencer. You two had started dating about a year after you joined the BAU and out of fear of getting in trouble, like two teenagers you hid the relationship from your teammates. Your transfer from Homeland Security was prompted when your interrogation and hostage negotiation tactics landed you on the BAU’s radar, and you very quickly became fast friends with the whole team. So with the guise of being your usual friendly self, it truthfully hadn’t been too hard to hide the relationship from your friends. And while Spencer was hesitant about hiding a relationship from a group of people like the BAU team, your fear of being let go as the “more inferior” member out of the two of you was what convinced him to keep it a secret. It also prompted him to lecture you on your clear inferiority complex, but that was neither here nor there.

“I’ll see you there, drive safe,” Spencer told you before kissing your cheek as you wrapped yourself in your towel to dry off while finishing your routine.

“You too,” you replied, giving him a peck on the lips before he began walking out of the restroom and apartment to head to headquarters.

When you got to HQ, you yawned as you made a beeline for the kitchenette for some much needed caffeine. When you got inside, you cordially told Spencer and Derek, “Good morning you two,” as you poured your coffee, creamer, and sugar into the mug you always had on your desk. It was your parting gift from your Homeland team that was in the shape of the sun and what prompted your nickname from Derek.

He laughed as he watched you and Spencer prepare your coffees, telling you, “You know, Sunshine, I think with how much creamer you put in that, you may have Pretty Boy beat on sugar consumption.”

“Ha ha very funny,” you told him with a playful roll of your eyes as you turned to walk into the bullpen.

As the three of you ambled into the area, Hotch emerged from his office and announced, “Sorry to call you all in so soon after getting back from a case, but this one is something we aren’t taking lightly and needs to be stopped because the unsub is escalating quickly.” So, after a quick briefing on what he knew of the case, Hotch told you all to be prepared for wheels up in thirty.

When the plane landed in Tennessee later that afternoon and you stood up from your perch, you stumbled a bit when you felt your heart give an irregular stutter in your chest. “You okay, kid?” David asked you with concern in his eyes after seeing the brief moment of panic flit across your features.

“Yeah, fine, just feeling a bit off after that flight, I guess,” you replied, taking a deep breath and straightening up which seemed to do the trick as your heart began beating in a regular rhythm once more.

“You know, I wouldn’t say I blame you if you were a bit anxious,” he told you as you both exited the jet and started making your way to the black SUVs awaiting your arrival. “It isn’t every day we get cases as violent as this one, especially when the victims…”

“All look like me?” you supplied quietly when he trailed off at the end of his sentence. It was true that when you began going over the pertinent files on the flight that all of the unsub’s victims shared many of your physical features, and while that did alarm you, you knew that your team would have your back during this case no matter what. You placed a small smile on your lips as you told him, “I’ll rest easier when this guy’s behind bars.”

“That’s the spirit,” he told you with a warm smile as you loaded into the SUV, your bag at your feet and your case file in your lap as you continued to read over what all the unsub had been up to in the last couple of months.

After you all got to the local police precinct and got settled in and assigned tasks, you made your way to their break room for another cup of coffee, only to be followed in by Spencer a few moments later. As you both made your drinks, you casually turned so you were leaning on the counter and watching over the office as Spencer asked, “Are you okay?”

“You know, Dave asked me the same thing, I’m starting to think you guys are more worried about me than I am,” you told him, your lips covered by your cup in case anyone you couldn't see was watching.

“I always worry about you,” Spencer told you softly as he stirred his sugary drink.

“And I, you, but for now we need to work on getting this guy in cuffs, and it won’t happen if either of us get distracted,” you said with a sort of finality in your tone, determined to make sure you conveyed a sense of confidence or else you too may fall victim to worrying about yourself instead of working the case.

As you walked out to the desk where you were allowed to set up, Penelope ran past you, almost toppling you over as she shouted, “Hotch, I found out how he’s luring the victims!”

“How?” your unit chief asked as she made his company. The team had barely been here a couple hours and the locals' work was already being combed through and missing clues were being found.

“Dating apps! On every victim’s phone was a dating app and she had planned a date with a man from there. None of the men’s accounts were the same and none of them had common pictures, but the unsub always used the same lines when chatting the women up!” she told him in a rush as she showed him pages she had printed out while doing her dive into the womens' phones.

Spencer emerged from the break room with his coffee in hand, saying, “Well, based on that knowledge we can assume that dating apps have a significant meaning to him.”

From her place nearby, JJ spoke up, saying, “Every victim had her left ring finger severed off, maybe his wife cheated on him using one?”

As Derek walked into the room with David hot on his heels, he added, “And turns out they also had their ovaries taken out by the unsub.”

“As well as their cervix glued shut with industrial sealant before their genitals were mutilated,” David supplied, his head shaking as he handed Hotch the ME reports.

A scoff huffed out of your chest before you mused, “So he feels slighted by his ex wife and has decided that in order to pacify that anger he does what he wishes he could to her to the victims…”

“Do we know if any of the victims was the ex wife?” Derek asked.

“Nope, all the victims are single women who have been on dating apps for quite some time and none of them have an active or otherwise marriage license under their name,” Penelope replied.

“Good work everyone, let’s get to work finding this guy,” Hotch said. “Find out all you can, I want to give this brief before nightfall.”

“Yes sir,” you all replied before once again splitting off into your assigned tasks.

Right as the sun began to set that evening, Hotch called everyone together and the team began giving the locals the brief on the unsub. Hotch of course began the brief, informing the locals, “The unsub is a caucasian male in his mid thirties to early forties who we believe to have a medical background in surgery and likely just went through a rough divorce."

You were the next to speak, announcing, “We believe he was cheated on by his ex wife, which is what triggered the break and the murders. The victims all share common features which we assume are also shared by the ex wife.” As you said this, you clicked the remote in your hand and on the board behind you popped up the faces of the victims.

With the slightest tremor in his voice, Spencer was the next to piggyback, saying, “The victims have all been found with mutilated genitals as well as their left ring finger cut off. The unsub also took the time to use industrial glue to seal the victim’s cervix shut and to cut out her ovaries.”

Derek was next to speak, adding to Spencer’s statement, “The cause of death in all the victims was prolonged blood loss. This tells us that he's performing these rituals while the victim is still alive.”

“He’s tech savvy, enough so that he is able to create difficult to trace profiles on dating apps on which he seduces victims before murdering them,” Penelope said sadly.

JJ was next, telling the team, “The only evidence that he’s left behind are the bodies in secluded dump locations and as of right now we do not know where the victims are being killed.”

David was the last to speak, rounding out the brief with, “All of this combined leads us to believe that he is a very calculated and dangerous individual who needs to be found before he strikes again.” When he was done, Hotch dismissed everyone to begin their search with this new information.

“Hey, chief?” came a voice from the front of the office a few minutes later. Both the local police chief and Hotch looked up at the young man expectantly before he replied, “There’s been another victim…”

“He’s escalating again…” Hotch mumbled as he ran a hand over his chin. “There was a lot less time between victims. We need to work faster.”

“Yes sir,” everyone replied before attempting to double down on their work.

As they all began working, the gears in your mind began to spin, and when you finally formulated a plan, you approached Hotch and said, “Sir, I think I may have an idea on how to catch him.”

“How?”

“We do a sting. Penelope makes a dating profile for me on one of those apps and we use me as bait,” you told him, never breaking eye contact to convey that you were serious about the idea. “If we can get someone inside then we get our guy as well as possible evidence for half a dozen murders.”

Hotch sighed before saying your name warily. “You know how risky that is.”

“And that risk is something I’m willing to take in order to stop this guy. If we don’t do this then there may be another victim tomorrow, maybe two,” you said. Squaring your shoulders, you added, “I agreed to take this job in order to help people. I fit the victimology. This is how I can help.”

A few moments of silence passed as Hotch seemed to weigh his options before he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he said, “Fine. I’ll think through the details. I want everyone well rested tonight before we start planning tomorrow. You and Garcia share a room at the hotel so she can start making that profile for you.”

“Yes sir,” you replied with a small smile and a nod before heading off to find Penelope so you two could head to the hotel and begin.

“So, are you on one of these apps normally?” Penelope asked as the two of you sat beside each other on one of the hotel beds, laptop and phones in hand to create this fake profile for yourself.

“Me? No, I don’t trust them for this exact reason,” you replied, shuddering as you thought about the poor women who thought they were simply going to meet a new man but paid with their lives and dignity.

“Oh, I see,” Penelope said before instructing you to find a specific type of photo in your camera roll that the unsub may find attractive. “Are you dating at all?”

“Oh, uh, not really,” you said, trying to pace your words so they didn’t seem panicky. “This job takes up a lot of my time and all, so it would be hard to find time for a relationship between cases.”

“You have an excellent point, but you can’t let something like that hold you back! You deserve all the happiness in the world!” she told you cheerfully as she continued typing away at the laptop. “What are your interests?”

Smiling inwardly at how the subject turned from your dating life you told her, “Reading, rom coms, coffee, patisseries, art, the occasional drink.” As you thought for a moment, you added, “Ooh, make sure you put ‘not looking for anything serious.’ I think that’s something that may trigger the unsub into choosing my profile.”

“Smart!” she replied before selecting that option on the profile. “We should do this more often! Maybe when this is all said and done we can make you a real one and I can just do a background check of the person before you go on a date!”

You laughed lightly as you told her, “Let’s make sure I survive this case first then we’ll go from there.”

The next morning came and went as the team tried to track the guy to no avail, so right before lunch, Hotch gathered everyone around and announced, “Okay, this unsub is proving hard to find by other methods, so we’ve decided to pull a sting. We can’t just sit around waiting for our surprisingly extensive list of divorced surgeons to make a move.” He motioned to you and Penelope and said, “These two worked on creating a fake dating profile that the unsub may fall for. The plan is to get him alone and our resident interrogator will pull a confession out of him.”

“Wait, what?” Spencer asked immediately, his eyes wide. “Is it a good idea to send her in when we know the unsub is escalating?”

“It’s the only lead we can get right now,” Hotch told him. “If we don’t do this tonight, then we may risk another woman dying at his hands.”

“Yeah, and it may be her,” Derek said sharply, the idea of sending you into the belly of the beast not sitting right with him either.

“Not if we’re all on our A-games when it goes down,” David said in an attempt to calm the younger men down. “If you’re so concerned, we can send you into wherever he asks to meet her so we can have eyes on her the entire time." He chuckled before adding, "Derek, not you Spencer, no offense but you do tend to stick out like a sore thumb in certain environments."

“But-” Spencer tried, but was cut off by Hotch.

“No buts, we’re doing this. Tonight. Garcia, activate the profile.”

“Yes sir,” she replied quietly before opening up her phone and clicking a few buttons. “It’s done.”

“Good.” He turned to you and said your name to get your attention. “Just make sure you reply to any account that may fit the profile. Garcia will run a trace on it to see when it was created since we knew he makes a new account for every victim.”

“Yes sir,” you replied, nodding your head as you pulled out your phone and got to work. While you scrolled through the app and took a seat in one of the secluded offices to eat your lunch, you were startled by another presence entering the room without knocking. “Geez Spence, you scared me!” you scolded him, clutching your chest in a vain attempt to slow your racing heart.

“And you’re scaring me,” he told you as he shuttered the blinds to prevent any passersby from seeing the two of you in there together. As you sat your phone down on the table, he covered your hand with his and asked sincerely, “Are you okay with this plan?”

You nodded. “It was my idea. We need to get this guy before another innocent woman dies.”

Echoing Derek, he asked, “And what if that turns out to be you?”

You scoffed humorously before deadpanning, “And you really think you’d let that happen?” After he floundered with his words for a few seconds, you kissed him gently before saying, “I trust that if anything goes sideways, you’ll be there to save me. You always are. I just need you to trust me and my judgment on this one. Do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you, it’s just-” he tried, but you cut him off with another kiss.

“Just trust me, love,” you told him once you pulled away again.

After you said this, your phone pinged with a notification that caught your attention. You picked it up and saw that there was a new message in your dating app’s inbox. “‘Hey beautiful, you look like you are in need of some company. How about you meet me at Monroe’s tonight and we see where this goes,’” Spencer read with disdain in his voice. He cringed before saying, “Please say that’s not what I sounded like flirting with you…”

You laughed, telling him, “No, the poetry you quoted at me was much more romantic than that line.” You placed one more quick kiss to his lips before telling him, “I’m gonna have Penny run this profile and we’ll see if it could be our guy.”

Turns out there was a high chance of it being your guy, seeing as the profile was created just hours before and yours was the only account that he interacted with. So after a chat with Hotch about the plan to get this guy to confess, you got dressed in a little black number and silver heels, finishing your look with the most effortful hair and makeup you had done in a while. When you emerged into the precinct, you saw that Spencer was the only one in the immediate area. “Where is everyone?” you asked.

“Getting the gear ready and briefing the police. I got the distinct honor of greeting you,” he told you with a warm smile as he drank in your appearance. His eyes darted around the room to ensure the two of you were alone before he wrapped you in his arms and kissed the top of your head, mumbling into your hair, “Tu es magnifique.”

“Merci beaucoup,” you replied, feeling a heat rush up your neck and into your cheeks at his words. No matter how long you and Spencer had been together, whenever he flirted with you, especially in any of the different languages you spoke, you still got flustered.

When Spencer’s arms quickly untangled themselves from your embrace, you rightly assumed that the team was emerging into the offices once more. Hotch called out your name before asking, “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you replied with a nod, smoothing out your dress before joining the team near the door.

On the way to the bar in the taxi you were assigned to take, Hotch went over the plan once more, detailing to you that Derek was already at the bar to keep an eye on you in case things went sideways, that you are to attempt to get any sort of confession out of the unsub, and if you could get information on where the killings were happening that would be even better. You had a plan in mind to attempt to get inside his head and get him to confess without even realizing it, so as you walked into the bar, you feigned confidence as you walked up and sat on a barstool to wait for the unsub to approach you.

Derek sat across the room behind you and to your left, near the door, and his soothing voice came through the in-ear you had, saying, “All right, Sunshine, if things go sideways you just say the word and I’m all over this guy.”

“Just trust me,” you told him quietly as you took your first drink from the water glass that the bartender handed you with your drink.

“I believe I’m supposed to be meeting you here?” came a voice from beside you a few minutes later.

You turned toward the voice and smiled in greeting. He did fit the profile, strikingly actually. You noticed a tan line on his left ring finger and how his hands were slightly cracked and dry, perhaps from surgical scrubbing at his job. You offered out your hand for him to kiss as well as your name before telling him, “I believe so. And you’re already nearly half a drink behind, so why don’t you catch up, handsome?”

“I think we can make that arrangement,” he said after kissing your knuckles.

"That was smooth, remind me why you're single again?" JJ asked with a quiet laugh through the in-ear.

You kept your facial expression in response to the comment neutral as the unsub ordered his drink from the bartender. When the two of you began talking, the team kept their ends of the coms silent as you worked to get what information you needed from the unsub.

During the conversation, you almost dragged out what you wanted from him, but he always skirted around it. You knew he was your man though, that was plain as day when he spoke about his ex wife who he told you moved off to California to be with the man she cheated on him with. During the conversation, Penelope informed you quietly that she had found record of the woman as well as IDing the man sitting across from you as Doctor Samuel Costner, who specialized in abdominal surgery.

After another paced drink from you and a couple more for him, he stood behind you and wrapped his arms around you, his hands splaying out over the tops of your thighs as he asked, “How about I take you back to my place and show you a good time?”

Bingo. His place. One of the things the team couldn’t figure out was where the unsub lived, otherwise it would have been much easier to locate him and the possible murder site. With this information in mind, you leaned back into his embrace and told him, “I like the sound of that.”

The silence from the team was broken as Spencer’s voice asked, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“As long as we tail them it should be fine,” you heard JJ tell him.

“We have his name now though, can’t we just have Garcia dig into where he lives and go from there?” Spencer countered.

“And go in with what suspicion? We need evidence that he’s killing there in order to step onto the property,” JJ replied.

“But this is a controlled scene, if she gets in the car with him, we can’t control what happens in there. What if we lose the truck on the backroads? This is too risky, I’m-”

“Reid, sit down and trust her,” you heard Hotch scold him. “What we need is a location and she’s getting us exactly that. Now sit back and let her work or else I’m pulling you from this case.”

“Yes sir…” Spencer eventually said.

“Remember the signal,” Derek mumbled as you and the man made your way out of the bar and to his truck.

A nearly thirty minute drive took you to a farm that had vast amounts of pastures and trails hidden within the woods as well as a large picturesque barn that looked just like they all did in the movies. “So this is where you live huh? It’s beautiful…” you breathed as you looked around, trying to take in any specific details you may need to relay to the team in case they weren’t able to tail you.

He nodded as he pulled up in front of the barn, putting his hand on your thigh as he said, “Family owned and operated since the 1800s. And while I don’t do much of the labor around here because of work, I am still the proud owner. Maybe you could be too one day.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked in your most alluring voice as you slightly widened the space between your thighs, the gesture making you feel filthy, but if this was how you caught the unsub then so be it.

The kisses that he gave you started off innocently enough, but soon turned aggressive and you cringed inwardly at the fact that you knew the team was listening to everything from their end of the coms. You didn't even want to think about what was going through Spencer's mind - the man had a reputation of being jealous and possessive sometimes when you two went out and guys flirted with you.

Before you knew it, the unsub was coming over to your side of the truck and opening the door. He pulled you into his arms and asked, “How about we go for a roll in the hay?” You giggled innocently before agreeing, subtly eyeing the black SUVs that had begun to creep onto the outskirts of the property line with their headlights out. They followed you. Good.

So, as he took you deeper into the barn and to an area that was lined with tarps that had seen better days, your eyes began scrutinizing every little thing that could be evidence that he had killed those women here. And you found it as you eyed a corner of another tarp that seemed to have dried blood on it.

Right as you were about to sneak in your code word to the team to signal you had what you needed, you heard Spencer’s distinct voice shouting, “FBI, hands where I can see them!”

“Shit!” the man shouted before jumping off of you and darting away, the large knife you had somehow not noticed before dropping to the ground as he sprinted off.

“We’ve got a rabbit!” you shouted, tossing off your heels and beginning to run after him. “I’m taking the back exit, someone go around the side!”

“On it!” JJ called as she began running around the other side of the barn to cut him off.

When you ran out of the door you saw him leave out of, you were met with a wooden fence that he had jammed in the few moments you were distracted. Not wanting to waste any time, you opted to climb the fence, jumping over and landing awkwardly on your feet. When you did, you felt your heart give an irregular stutter in your chest before starting to beat rapidly. As you stood up, you began to get light headed and it felt like cotton filled your ears as you faintly heard a commotion around the corner of the barn. Heat seemed to fill every part of your body and your vision started to tunnel as you gasped for air, stumbling around to try and steady yourself on the side of the barn before your body gave in and collapsed.

“Stay down!” JJ sternly told the man as she pinned him to the ground and cuffed him. “Samuel Costner, you’re under arrest for the murder of six women.”

As JJ recited his rights and escorted him to one of the police cruisers that had emerged on the scene, Spencer looked around and asked where you were. “Didn’t she say she was going out the back?” Derek asked. “I didn’t see her come back around…”

Panic filled Spencer’s body immediately and he began quickly making his way around the barn with Derek hot on his heels. What if Costner got to you in desperation before JJ arrested him? What if you were bleeding out behind the barn? He had to get to you quickly.

When he rounded the corner and saw you collapsed on the ground, he shouted your name before sprinting over and feeling for a pulse. After a few seconds and some quick math, he said, “Her heart rate is 238 and she feels clammy… She’s not bleeding that I can see, but she’s hardly breathing. Derek!”

“On it!” he shouted, pulling out his walkie to dispatch an ambulance to the location. “They said it’ll take about twenty minutes to get here.”

“She might not have twenty minutes!” Spencer snapped as he watched your now frail body and how you were losing color quickly. With a strength that Derek didn’t know he had, Spencer lifted you into his arms and began carrying you to one of the SUVs, telling him, “Get one of the officers to give us an escort, we’re taking her!”

“Oh, got it!” Derek stuttered out before barking orders at an officer and getting into the driver’s seat of the SUV.

“What’s going on?” JJ asked as she quickly jumped into the passenger seat while Spencer got you and himself into the back seat.

They took off at a rapid speed, Derek intending on cutting the ride to the hospital in half at least as he pushed the pedal into the floor as far as it would go.

“I don’t know, her heart is racing though, and we found her collapsed,” Spencer told her, his own breath beginning to come in rapidly as he began to panic.

“Spence, look at me,” JJ told him gently which prompted him to look up at her. “We’re gonna figure it out. She’ll be okay. What do we know?”

As he ran his thumb over your jaw as a way of soothing himself, Spencer rattled off to JJ, “Well, obviously she was in a state of stress during the sting, but even a panic attack wouldn’t cause her heart to beat this fast, panic attacks top out at about 200 beats per minute. She’s usually good at controlling her anxiety anyway, especially under pressure like this… He couldn’t have drugged her at the bar because she got all her drinks directly from the bartender and she was cognizant of what she was doing and saying the whole time. As far as I know, at her last doctor’s appointment she was given a clean bill of health…”

“Well, not being drugged is good, we can work with that,” JJ reassured him. She checked the map on her phone and said, “We’re almost there, just hang in there.”

When you arrived at the hospital, Spencer carried you in and placed you on the stretcher that was waiting at the triage door. “What happened?” a nurse asked as a doctor walked up while the team began placing EKG leads all over your chest.

“We’re FBI. We were working a case and she was chasing down a perp. I didn’t see her come back from where she said she was going and I found her like this,” Spencer replied as he began following them while they pushed you into a room, JJ and Derek hot on his heels.

“Any significant medical history?” she asked as they began plugging the wires into machines which immediately began blaring with alarms.

As Spencer began rattling off your medical history, two of the nurses escorted JJ and Derek into the hall to clear some space for the medical team. After two nurses got IVs started in your left arm, another came running in with some syringes, vials of medication, and a cart. As they began preparing the medication, the doctor looked toward Spencer and told him, “We’re about to give her a medication that’s going to stop her heart.”

“What?!” he shouted, his eyes wide.

Calmly the doctor continued, saying, “It’s got a super short half-life so it’ll only be for a few moments and then her heart should go back into a normal rhythm. It’s a very routine drug. She may feel sore afterward but that is to be expected.”

And so a pair of nurses worked together to quickly administer the medication. When it hit your system, sure enough, for a few moments he watched the monitor as your heart stopped and Spencer could practically feel his own stop too. The tension in his shoulders eased up slightly as your heart returned to a normal 88 beats per minute, but then alarms started blaring again within seconds as the EKG suddenly looked like a toddler was scribbling on the monitor. Spencer knew that rhythm from a book he read one time and knew that it was deadly if not treated quickly. In a blind rage, he shouted at the doctor, “You said that medication would help! Look what happened! I want a different doctor on her case right now and-”

“Get him out of here! Geneva, get the defibrillation pads on her and deliver 200 joules. If that doesn’t work start CPR!” the doctor called before calling more orders to the rest of the team, two of which began trying to escort Spencer from the room.

“You can’t just-!” he shouted in frustration before he felt a hand on his shoulder that squeezed gently.

“Let them work,” came Derek’s voice from behind him.

When Spencer wrestled himself out of the nurses’ hold and watched them go back into the room, closing the door that now had a blue light above it, both JJ and Derek saw the dangerous look in his eyes. JJ though was the one brave enough to ask, “What the hell was that about Spence? You can’t just yell at the doctor like that! He was trying to help!”

“Him trying to help sent her into v-fib and now her heart isn’t working!” he retaliated, running a hand through his messy hair. He tried to hide the tears in his eyes as he turned away and stalked off down the hall, unsure of what to do with himself at the moment.

“Spence!” JJ called after him, about to follow him, but was stopped when a gentle hand grabbed her forearm.

“Let him go,” said David as he too watched Spencer’s retreating form.

JJ sighed in frustration and said, “I just don’t know what’s gotten into him! Why would he yell at them? Yeah, I’m worried too, but that was a whole other level. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him that mad.”

“Just think about it from his perspective,” David told her vaguely before encouraging the two of them to meet the rest of the team in the waiting room.

Once the pair of them parted ways, David sighed and took off in the direction he saw Spencer going. When he found him a few hallways over staring out a window into nothingness, David cleared his throat and asked, “How long has this been going on?”

“From the time I found her with her heart beating that fast, it’s been twenty-eight minutes and thirty-seven seconds give maybe three minutes from the moment she took off after Costner. It’s been two minutes and forty-eight seconds since that doctor sent her into v-fib and effectively made her heart useless as a pump,” Spencer mumbled.

“That’s not what I meant, kid,” David told him, a small smile playing on the corners of his lips. He leaned his back against the window and said, “I know love when I see it.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spencer said, his back straightening as it clicked in his mind what he was saying.

Now David chuckled as he said, “Don’t lie to me, kid. I see the way you two look at each other. The way you joke around together. You’re relaxed around her.” He paused for a moment before adding, “And between you and me, I’ve seen you two sneak off together when you thought no one was looking.”

Spencer cringed at the last bit, but couldn’t help the small smile that graced his lips at the thought of you. “We’ve been together for just over a year,” he said softly, the smile growing wider as he remembered your anniversary a few weeks prior. That smile quickly faltered though when he remembered what was happening in that hospital room a few halls down.

“She’s going to pull through,” David said gently, his hand landing on Spencer’s back, giving him a gentle pat.

When he said that, Spencer’s phone started ringing with a call from Hotch, who told him, “She’s stable and resting, they gave her a sedative so she doesn’t overwork herself again. The rest of us need to finish up at the scene. I trust you can get your paperwork done on the jet later. Call with updates, please.”

“Yes sir,” Spencer replied, a tinge of hope in his voice at the words.

“Well?” David asked expectantly when Spencer hung up.

“She’s stable!” he told him, the tension in his shoulders leaving as he exhaled deeply.

“Then go to her!” David said, a smile on his face.

“I-I will!” Spencer said, turning to take off toward the room he left you in. Before he could leave the older gentleman’s presence though, he asked, “David?”

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t tell Hotch.”

“It’s not my secret to tell,” he replied with a nod before he answered his cell, presumably with his own call from their unit chief.

The wait for you to wake up took longer than Spencer would have liked, and by then they already had to move you out of the emergency department and to a cardiac monitoring floor to make room for more emergencies. When your eyes finally fluttered open in the early hours of the morning, you cringed at the bright light coming from the window before orienting yourself to your surroundings. You were in a hospital room that much was clear, and beside you was Spencer, with one hand in yours and the other holding up what looked like a map that you assumed was a medication insert. Only Spencer would be reading up on whatever medications they may have given you for whatever you ended up in here for…

“Spence?” you whispered to get his attention. When his hazel eyes flicked away from the pamphlet and met yours, you could see how they instantly flooded with tears as a smile made its way onto his face. As he gently threw his arms around you, you asked, “What happened?”

“When you ran after the unsub you collapsed and your heart was beating extremely fast. I got you into the SUV and Derek drove you here to get treated,” he replied, his voice muffled by your hair. You could hear this disdain in this voice as he added, “They gave you this medication that stopped your heart and was supposed to put you back into a normal rhythm, but it ended up making things worse. You went into an even deadlier heart rhythm and they had to shock you. No CPR thankfully, but the nurses said that if that first shock didn’t get you back they would have had to…” He pulled you impossibly closer as he whispered, “I was so scared. I thought I lost you…”

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m right here,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion as you attempted to comfort him by rubbing soothing circles into his back. That was a lot to take in, but you hated seeing Spencer so upset and that was your biggest concern at the moment.

You cleared your throat, but before you could ask what was on your mind, there was a knock at the door and two people came in: a nurse and a doctor of cardiology. The doctor sent you a warm smile and said, “It’s good to see you awake Miss, you gave the ED team a real scare last night!”

“It was the doctor down there that caused such a fuss…” Spencer muttered, which earned a squeeze of your hand that warned him to be cordial.

“Yes, that’s actually what I came up here to talk to you two about, er, you Miss.” He glanced down to your hands and didn’t notice a ring, so he asked, “And what’s your relation may I ask? Are you okay with him being here for this?”

“He’s my boyfriend and yes he’s allowed to be here. If I don’t remember something that big brain in there will,” you said, a quiet laugh leaving your lips.

“Okay, great!” the doctor said as he clapped his hands together. “So, when you came in, you were in what we call SVT which they treated with a medication called adenosine since you were unresponsive. It’s a fairly routine drug for emergent SVT conversion. When they gave it to you though, it threw your heart into V-fib, which essentially caused your heart muscles to quiver instead of contract. In my years of experience, I’ve only ever seen one condition that would cause that medication to make your heart react like that.” He motioned for the nurse to hand the two of you a piece of paper as he continued, “What I think may be going on is called Wolff Parkinson White Syndrome. It’s a condition in which the conduction system in your heart misfires and sends you into SVT. Luckily enough, it’s easily treated with a heart ablation surgery, but you will have to go through the steps of a formal diagnosis before going through with that as this is just a guess. Do you have any questions for me?”

You looked at the doctor for a moment, your eyes wide as you shook your head no, unsure why you did it, but in your state of shock you didn’t know what else to do. You were sure whatever research Spencer does on the condition would answer any of your later questions anyway. Through the ringing in your ears, you of course heard Spencer’s muffled voice asking the doctor as many questions as he could think of after reading through the education packet, but you paid no attention as you thought of the implications this might have on your job and life as a whole…

What felt like only a few moments passed in the fog of noise and chaos in your brain before you were gently pulled back to reality by Spencer’s soothing voice as he called out your name to get your attention. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” he asked when your eyes finally met with his concerned ones.

“Too much… I don’t wanna think about it right now…” you whispered, a tear slipping from your eye as an array of emotions blasted through your body. He pulled you into a hug and rubbed your back, not pushing the topic further for the moment.

Wanting a change in subject, you cleared your throat and focused on work, asking, “Did we get him? The unsub?”

As Spencer pulled away and tried to discreetly wipe a tear from his cheek, he laughed incredulously before saying, “All thanks to you.”

“Good. At least he’s put away now,” you said, relaxing as much as you could into the stiff hospital bed.

Spencer looked at you and shook his head in disbelief as he said, “Only you could be told your heart stopped practically twice and that you may need surgery to fix it, and you’re still more concerned about if we caught the unsub or not.”

“What can I say, I was passionate about putting that one away,” you said, forcing a small smile on your lips.

Spencer, for the first time in a while, was at a loss of words for what else to say on the subject, so instead he simply whispered, “I love you,” before leaning forward to place a chaste kiss to your lips.

The two of you quickly broke away from each other when you heard a squeal and something hitting the floor behind Spencer. When you both looked over to identify the sound, you saw your team standing in the room holding various gifts as well as your go-bag and some palatable food for breakfast. “You two! I- We- You-!” Penelope stuttered out as her eyes darted from your face to Spencer’s and back. She quickly crouched down and picked up what turned out to be a pack of makeup removing wipes before asking, “When did this happen?!”

“My man!” Derek said with a sly smile on his face as he went over to clap Spencer on the back.

“I- We can explain!” Spencer said, a bit of desperation in his voice as he watched Hotch place his get well balloon down on the table before walking out of the room.

Spencer took one look at the returning terrified look on your face before starting to stand up to go after Hotch, but stopped when David placed a hand on his shoulder to stop his movement. “I’ll deal with it in a minute, kid. You stay with her.”

After a few moments of tense silence, you managed to say, “Surprise?” as Spencer once again resumed holding your hand.

JJ laughed quietly as she sat down on the couch in the room, asking, “Like Garcia said, when did this happen?”

“Just over a year ago,” Spencer replied, squeezing your hand as his smile once again appeared.

“A year?!” Penelope and JJ asked at the same time, their eyes wide in shock.

David laughed and shook his head before asking, “And how did anyone else not notice?”

“In my defense, I thought it was an unspoken rule not to profile each other,” JJ mumbled, shaking her head in disbelief.

“It’s not profiling if it’s obvious,” David said with a chuckle. He leaned over and placed a kiss to the top of your head before telling you, “Rest up and get to feeling better, you scared us all.”

“Yes sir,” you replied, huffing out a laugh as you watched him exit the room followed soon after by the rest of the team who gave you their well wishes too. “Well, I guess that cat’s out of the bag now…” you whispered, pulling your blanket closer to your body as your anxiety began to creep in.

“Hey, we’ll figure it out,” Spencer reassured you, his eyes flicking up to the heart monitor and noticing that your rate was beginning to climb. He squeezed your hand as he said, “Right now we just need to focus on figuring out if you have that condition the cardiologist mentioned. Dave is talking with Hotch and I’ll talk with him soon too, okay?”

He gently lifted your chin and mumbled, “Deep breaths, sweetheart…” You simply nodded in response as you closed your eyes and tried to breathe in time with him to calm your racing heart and mind.

After a few moments, Spencer reached over you and grabbed the pack of makeup wipes and took one out, starting to bring it to your face, which prompted you to ask, “What’re you doing, Spence?”

“I’m helping you take your makeup off,” he replied simply as he began to gently run the wipe over your jawline. “I know you hate when you get acne from your makeup when we're busy with cases…”

“I can do it, love, I’m sure you’ve been up all night and you need rest too,” you told him, gently grabbing his wrist to stop his movement.

“I don’t mind,” he told you with a small smile on his lips. “This gives me an excuse to admire your beautiful features…”

You could feel yourself blushing as you mumbled, “You’ve had my features memorized intimately since around two months into our relationship.”

“And I’ll never tire of your beauty,” he told you as he coaxed your hand off of his wrist and began gently working the makeup off your face.

“Je t’aime, Doctor Reid. You always know how to make me feel better,” you whispered a few minutes later when the last makeup wipe was discarded.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he replied, placing a gentle kiss on your lips once more.

When you were cleared to discharge the next morning, the rest of the BAU had already flown back home. Hotch offered to send the jet back to get the two of you, but knowing that they could be called out on a case, Spencer declined, also citing to him, “People with unstable heart disease and arrhythmias have the risk of deadly episodes while in the air due to the pressure changes within the cabin as well as the lower oxygen levels and higher risk of dehydration, not to mention the added stress both physically and emotionally.”

“Is that your way of telling me you’re just renting a car to get back?” Hotch asked, and the pair of you could practically see him pinching the bridge of his nose as he asked this.

“Yes sir,” Spencer replied shortly. “If anything comes up feel free to call. We’ll both get our paperwork done before coming back to the office.”

“Thank you,” he said simply before hanging up.

Since he hadn’t wanted to leave your side, Spencer hadn’t gotten the chance to speak with Hotch about your relationship, and over the phone it was hard to tell what the annoyance in his tone was over… As you began to think about those implications, Spencer glanced over at you before taking your hand in his and saying, “You’re working yourself up again…”

“I’m just scared is all…” you mumbled as the pair of you followed the rental car agent to the car you would be taking back to Virginia.

Once you were both in the car after Spencer inspected it for cleanliness, he took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles, reiterating to you, “We’re going to figure it out. David said he thinks Hotch will come around, and if you’re worried about your heart, we’ve already got your appointment scheduled for when we get back home. Whatever happens we’ll take it on together like we always do.”

“Thank you, Spence,” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes once more. You felt like you had done more than enough crying in the past few days, even though there had been more than one occasion when Spencer had rattled off some facts about crying being a great form of stress relief.

Walking into headquarters a few days later, you tugged at your shirt uncomfortably as you and Spencer stepped into the elevator together. You had been to the doctor the day before and they had attached you to a 24-hour heart monitor that they would use to aid in your diagnosis. You’d be lying if you said all the wires didn’t cause you to be filled with an overwhelming feeling of insecurity.

Taking note of your shifting, Spencer asked quietly, “Would you like to wear my jacket?”

“And give Hotch another reason to let me go?” you rebutted, your voice breaking at the end.

“That’s not going to happen,” Spencer reassured you as the doors to the elevator opened and you two walked out and toward the BAU offices.

It definitely felt that way though when the first thing you heard when emerging into the bullpen was Hotch calling both of your last names and saying, “You two, my office.”

Feeling like two teenagers caught in the act, when Spencer closed the door behind him, he immediately started rambling. “Hotch, please I can explain, we-”

“I don’t need an explanation, I need you to sign these forms,” your unit chief said, handing the both of you a packet of papers that you began reading even though the papers shook with the tremors in your hands.

“If you just give me a second to-” Spencer tried again as he took the packet but didn’t so much as glance at it.

“Sign the papers,” Hotch said, ignoring Spencer’s pleas for him to listen.

“But-”

“Spence, read it,” you said a few moments later after you had read the summary of the form on the front page of the packet.

At your words, Spencer finally looked down at the packet in his hands and within moments had it read, his mouth opening a little in shock as he asked Hotch, “Wait…you’re not mad?”

“Oh, I’m mad. I’m mad that you two would keep such a secret from us, not only because I thought we functioned as a family here, but also because of how much your relationship played a role in that Tennessee case," Hotch told him sternly. "Seeing as even I never noticed before now, and up until that case, it has never interfered with your work, I came up with some forms that should appease the higher-ups if for some reason this relationship were to get out to other teams.”

“So, if we sign these forms then we’re both allowed to stay on the team as long as it doesn’t interfere with our work?” Spencer asked, slightly breathlessly.

“Correct,” Hotch replied, the corners of his mouth almost tugging up into a smile. “We can’t afford to lose either one of you from this team.”

“Well, that’s a relief…” you mumbled as you grabbed a pen out of the cup sitting on his desk and signed the paper in the appropriate places.

“No more secrets, okay?” Hotch asked sternly as he eyed the two of you, pointing his own pen at each of you in turn.

“No more secrets,” you both agreed, giggles flying out of both of your mouths as you looked at each other after saying the same phrase.

“So, when’s the wedding?” Derek asked with a chuckle as the two of you emerged from the office once everything was filed away.

“Once we get her heart situation figured out because I know she’ll want to go to Europe for the honeymoon,” Spencer replied as he pulled you close and placed a kiss on your forehead. The statement made your heart leap in your chest and you began to think of excuses to tell the cardiologist about what caused that reading on the monitor.

So, with your job at the BAU still secure, you took a seat at your desk across from Spencer’s and sipped at the decaf coffee JJ had bought for the kitchenette, completely grateful for the team, but even more so for Spencer. You weren’t sure how you would navigate this crazy and unpredictable life without him.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #angst #romance #secret relationship #bau team #bau reader #fanfic #criminal minds oneshot #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid angst #spencer reid secret relationship

2K notes · View notes

wyvernest · 2 years ago

Note

Oh my god I saw your requests were open and I love eveything you write<33

I See many fics where Miguel is the one who is jealous, but what if the tables turned and the reader is the one who is jealous, maybe she’s a civilian and she feels like he’d be better of with a spider person who understands his work better? I’d love to see him feel sad that his love feels that way can you tell I like pain lol

Thank you so so much<33 wishing you all the best for your exam! I’m sure you’ll do amazing!

shameless

pairing: bf!miguel x f!civilian!reader

warnings: jealousy, fluff, suggestiveness, public display of affection

summary: you're worried that miguel might be better off with a spider-person, but he is eager to reassure you (and everyone else) that you're more than enough

a/n:thank you and i hope you like it! im thinking of making a part 2 with balcony sex above nueva york let me know if yall would want it<3

divider by @cafekitsune

You are aware of the so called disadvantages of him being your boyfriend.

He is handsome, no doubt. But that means a lot more than being able to watch him work around the HQ, swinging your legs and wondering how you landed him.

It means having unfamiliar eyes linger over him more than you'd be able to tolerate. Flirty looks and remarks thrown at him like he's magnetic, regardless of everyone knowing he's with you.

Even walking through the glassy hallways and cloud scratching towers of Spider Society is a stab in the heart.

Noticing all the single spider-women look him up and down, eyelids heavy with the seconds that passed as they unabashedly stared at his physique; his broad back, the bulky arms and toned thighs, at the way the muscles underneath his suit rippled with every heavy step he took, not letting his weight drop lazily on each foot but rather walking with the energetic strength of a man with insane stamina.

You couldn't stop a venomous surge of anxiety mixed with the most sour amount of jealousy from dripping into your nerves as you met their gazes, seeing how beautiful and charismatic they all were.

How agile and gracious they were, swinging by just to blow Miguel a fleeting kiss.

And you certainly couldn't stop wondering if he'd be better off with one of them. One of his kind. One that would be able to swing alongside him, to practise with him, to accompany him.

One that would understand him better than perhaps you ever could.

You know he loves you, or else you wouldn't be together. But the idea that he maybe even once looked at all the women lining up for him and thought they'd be interesting to try is gutting you out.

And he starts noticing it.

Of course.

He isn't oblivious to how you straightened your back or curled your arms around his when another spider woman passed you with flirty looks or remarks. How you'd shut down and become awfully quiet when you two would get home following one of these encounters.

He couldn't bear to see you unhappy. Some of the times he even felt the sharp sting of guilt poking into his heart, knowing that he was the reason others were upsetting you.

More so, your bond.

You are heading towards his lab at HQ, walking beside him, heart pounding intermittently with anxiety and bubbling anger. Eyes darting around you swiftly, like those of a feral feline making sure no other animal is preparing to jump her and snatch her food from her.

Suddenly, two flowy silhouettes shoot mile long webs far up into a tunnel bridge, only to drop down and swing right past you and Miguel.

Purring out a simultaneous "¡Hola, Miguel! Looking good today!", reaching their hands down to him while boasting perfect balance with their webs tied to their ankles, they disappear into the distanced skyscrapers of Nueva York, with echoing giddy laughters.

Miguel doesn't move his head in their direction, already way too familiar with such interactions, and already too interested in hearing only one particular ¡Hola, Miguel! - yours.

Only your focus isn't on him. Your mind is running wild with how talented they seemed to be, how flexible and enticing. Already imagining him, playfully swinging with them, his force and precision perfectly matching their grace and melodic rhythm.

A dance you could never participate in.

What you also fail to see is the frown on his face as he turns to you, intrigued and finally ready to catch you off guard.

"¿Qué pasó, amor?" (What happened, love?) He leaned into you, dragging you by your arm to stop you behind a glass pillar.

You're hauled out of your reverie, eyes widening in panic as you think of something less pathetic and embarrassing to say than the truth.

"Hm? Nothing, I just think they're nice to look at." You motion with your head the direction the two women swung in, clarifying. "Everytime you bring me here, it's all so … breathtaking." You internally wince at the excuse, pulling the best poker face you could muster.

He takes a deep breath, annoyed but patient.

"You know you can tell me anything." He assures you, voice low and whispered so as not to embarrass you in front of the spiders passing by. He is aware that the place isn't the most fitting for the conversation, but any other time he'd tried to coax it out of you, you dismissed it with a "It's nothing. I'm just feeling off today."

Truth be told, he had his suspicions. He is by no means unacquainted with the ways of women, and without a single condescending bone in his body when it came to you, he wants you to spit it out so you could talk about it. So he could untangle the knots in your heart, the doubts about him and your relationship.

"I know." You reply shortly, something in you dying to snap out and tell him everything, but instead, you shut it down at the last moment and decided to leave it at that.

"Then why don't you?" He looms over you, unintentionally, but you start to feel utterly cornered. Your heart is drumming out of your chest, and you are more than certain he can at least hear it. His face reveals his disappointment, however hopeful and attentive he wants to seem.

And just like that, your fronts break down.

"I'm - Don't get me wrong," you trail off, not looking him in the eye. You feel his warm breath fan over your forehead, getting dizzy from the sudden proximity. "I love this place. All the work you put into it.." Your eyes meet his for a fleeting second. "But sometimes it reminds me of how different I am.", You pause, waiting for a response. When he doesn't interrupt, you continue, "How I don't fit in,... here, beside you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" He looks almost pissed, as if you had told him he doesn't fit in. As if he was the one that didn't fit you.

"I mean I'm not … them. I'm not a spider."

"I'm aware of that." he retorts, ironically. "When did that stop me from loving you?". His tone is scolding. He is trying to maintain an unaffected demeanor so you would keep talking, but inside, his heart cracks at your words.

Your face heats up, surprised.

"It's not that." You have to actively stop yourself from leaning into his body and hiding into the warmth of his embrace, so that maybe all the jealousy and worry will wash away. But he deserves an explanation, now that you've admitted your feelings. "They know a side of you that I can only imagine. How it feels to be…like you."

His face softens, full of love and pity.

"I'm the odd one out here." You spit out, frustrated with his silence. "I can't give you everything they can!"

"I don't want what they have." He answers quickly, sincerely. You find it hard to believe, even though he's never lied to you.

To you, he's perfect. He deserves everything. Everything he could get.

And you're not enough.

"Escúchame." (Listen to me) He leans closer into you, his breath hot on your face. "Estoy enamorado de ti." (I'm in love with you.) "I only need you to be happy."

You finally meet his gaze, full of consideration and fondness. You pray to whatever god hears you that he means it, because you're too far gone in your love for him to go back now.

"What will it take for you to just relax and stop being jealous, hm?" He whispers, smugly and amused. It's clear that he's flattered with your sentiments and possessiveness, but wants to nonetheless fix your issues.

You feel yourself getting immersed into the scent of him, his body heat radiating onto yours. You don't quite know the answer yourself. He grabs your waist right above your hips, sending shivers up your spine. Pulling you closer to him, he moves his head to your ear.

"What if I kissed you right here, right now? Let everyone know that I love you, and only you."

Miguel was very clearly overjoyed with the excuse to show you some public affection, especially if it meant having you so flustered and pliant beneath him.

"Would that make you feel better? Knowing they'll be the jealous ones now?"

You nod, more or less consciously, lifting yourself up on your tiptoes almost reflexively.

His warm and eager hands on your waist strengthen their grip, lifting you further up against his body as your feet lose contact with the ground, your chest meeting his. His lips are soft and tender against yours, dancing in a slow, passionate kiss. With your eyes still closed, you hear a few gasps near you in the hall; some happily amused, some offended.

But you don't care. All you care about right now is how he's tilting your head to the side with one of his palms at the back of your neck, slipping his tongue into your mouth and deepening the kiss.

You continue to make out without a care in the world, just for the whole Spider Society to receive a much needed reminder that Miguel O'Hara is taken.

His hands knead the supple flesh of your lower back, making your hum softly into his mouth, your own arms curling around his neck in a vicious hold.

When you least expect it, you feel one hand descend swiftly, leaving you no time to react as he grabs at your ass hard, so hard you jolt up against him, eyes snapping open in shock.

Without moving his hand, he presses his nose to your pulse point, exhales sultry on the sensitive skin.

"I have another idea."

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #across the spiderverse

3K notes · View notes

3fingersofscotch · 12 days ago

Text

Like a Party Favor Chapter 6

Pairing: M/M/M/M/F Sylus x Zayne x Rafayel x Xavier x x Caleb x Afab Reader

‧₊˚✩彡Summary: In what scenario does MC get passed around like a party favor? This one!

‧₊˚✩彡WARNINGS: 18+ mdni!! GANGBANG, word porn with just enough plot to make your brain happy, double penetration, vaginal and anal sex, rough face fucking, rough cunniligus, creampies, reverse harem, butt plugs, multiple partners, multiple positions, actual funny parts, gratuitous self pleasing smut. Don't let the group dynamic fool you. This fic is all about consent and love.

Ao3- 3fingers_of_scotch Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

dividers by @cafekitsune Art Credit: PrezWeeb

No one looked happy when you came home after your conversation with Captain Jenna.

“I don’t like this. We let you go back to the Hunter’s Association for 5 seconds and things are already out of control.” Xavier’s voice doesn’t rise, but he looks away, the same way he always does when he is upset because it pains him when his eyes meet yours. He can sense your resolve before he sees it. Out of all the men you love, he is the one that is attuned to your feelings. And though he will try to fight it, he knows this is a losing battle.

Rafayel sits on the couch frowning, arms crossed, uncharacteristically quiet as Sylus leans on a door frame nearby.

“For once, I’m leaning towards agreeing with the sleepy one.” Sylus drawls, gaze calculated as he stares you down. “You can’t get into Skyhaven without proper clearance. I don’t even think I have the means to sneak my way in without setting alarms off everywhere.”

Rafayel’s foot taps impatiently, eyes darting in response; a nervous tick he is completely unaware is in full swing until Zayne taps his thigh silently to get him to stop. Scrolling through a few channels on his laptop, he offers you a lifeline.

“I think I can get in. They are requesting temporary travel doctors at the Skyhaven Hospital and they need someone specializing in protocore sickness.”

“That’s still not good enough,” Xavier huffs, eyes quietly pleading for you to change your mind.

Sylus pushes off the doorframe, arms folding as he directs his gaze at Xavier. “Why won’t Captain Jenna assign you too? You’re the obvious choice. The two of you work best together.”

Xavier doesn’t answer right away. He stares at the floor like the answer might shift if he waits long enough. Eventually, he exhales through his nose.

“It’s harder to keep a mission covert with more than one agent,” he says quietly. “Especially when one of those agents is me. The Unicorns can’t justify sending two of their top hunters off the grid to chase rumors about the Aether Core. We still have assignments. Monsters don’t stop wandering just because Skyhaven’s being shady.”

Sylus grunts. “Right. Bureaucracy over brains. Classic.”

“It’s not that simple,” Xavier mutters. “Jenna’s walking a tight line just letting her go. Any more special treatment and people start asking questions. Questions that might get her—”

He stops himself before finishing, but the implication hangs heavy in the air.

Dead. Caught. Disavowed.

You shift your stance, jaw tight. “It’s fine. One person can move easier. Blend in faster. And Captain Jenna has her reasons. I think it goes without saying, something is clearly fishy on the inside. And Captain Jenna isn’t trying to bring any attention to the situation.”

“That’s just a better argument for you to stay,” Rafayel says, flopping sideways on the couch with a scowl.

“She’s not going in alone,” Zayne cuts in. “They’ve been requesting specialists in Protocore Syndrome for months. If they’re still desperate, I can get stationed there. Quietly.”

Sylus raises a brow. “You going to save lives and spy at the same time?”

Zayne doesn’t blink. “I multitask.”

“That’s not multitasking. That’s a full-time job while you try to babysit your girlfriend.” Rafayel scoffs.

Sylus looks back to Xavier. “And you’re really okay just sitting this one out?”

“What do you mean?” Xavier’s jaw flexes. “It’s not like I have a choice. She has to do this on her own.”

“She is standing right here,” you mutter, cutting through the noise. All four of them look at you. None of them look particularly happy.

“You need to stop discussing this as if you can talk me out of it,” you say firmly and Rafayel huffs. He breaks his uncharacteristic silence, a scowl on his face.

“We don’t need to talk you out of it. You aren’t going. Not without all of us.” He sits with his arms crossed, gaze burning into you but you refuse to waiver.

“Caging her will just make her resent you,” Sylus says, voice low but even, eyes on Rafayel. “You know that.”

“I’d rather her resent me than have her get killed in some floating fortress run by a mysterious military force likely in cahoots with the enemy.” Rafayel retorts, expression pouty and indignant. “Literally any of us would step up and do this in her place. We should just start drawing straws on who it’s gonna be.”

“She’s the only one who can,” Xavier says quietly.

One simple, unexpected sentence from Xavier and everyone falls silent.

“She’s right. Jenna’s right. We all want answers, and this is how we get them. We don’t have the luxury of playing it safe anymore.”

You glance at him, surprised at his shift, but he won’t meet your eyes. His fists are clenched at his sides, knuckles pale.

“I hate this,” he admits. “But I’m not going to be the reason she walks away from something that’s finally going to give us answers.”

Sylus gives him a long, unreadable look. “Didn’t think I’d hear that from you.”

Xavier’s eyes remain downcast. His lips stay in a straight line, eyes slightly red. “I don’t have to like it for it to be true.” And though he remains quiet, the flicker of anger in his downcast eyes speaks enough before he walks away.

You step forward and place a hand on Rafayel’s arm. He looks at you, an intimidating, beautiful frown carved into his face. “You know I can handle myself.”

Rafayel exhales hard and begrudgingly nods before looking away.

Zayne closes his laptop. “They accepted my application. I’ll be there in 3 days.”

Sylus raises a brow. “Accepted that fast?”

“You’ve seen my resume,” he says flatly. “Would you reject me in their position?”

“You… have a point,” Sylus concedes as you leave to find Xavier.

You find Xavier alone in the hallway outside the common room, standing just beside a reinforced window that overlooks the empty corridor below. He doesn’t turn when you approach, but his posture shifts, shoulders drawing in slightly like he’s bracing himself for a conversation he doesn’t want to have.

“Thank you… for backing me up,” you murmur.

He nods once, hands tucked into the sleeves of his sweater. You turn to face him fully, but he still won’t look at you. His eyes stay on the floor, unfocused. Like if he looks at you, he might say something he regrets.

“This is hard for me,” he admits, voice weary. “Harder than I thought it would be.”

Your breath catches. Xavier is a man of few words, and for the first time, he isn’t clamming up to avoid confrontation.

“I don’t like this arrangement because I hate sharing you.” He finally glances at you, just for a second. “I agreed to it because I thought… if more people cared about you, then you’d be safer.” You’ve never heard him say it like that before, never heard the raw truth come out so plainly.

You reach for his hand, and he lets you take it. His fingers are cold, and they are never cold.

“But now I’m sending you somewhere I can’t follow,” he says. “Can’t watch your back. Can’t pull you out if something goes wrong.” His thumb traces a small line across your wrist. “And I keep thinking… what’s the point of all of this- of me being here… if I can’t even keep you safe?”

“Xavier…” Your voice cracks a little.

“I know you’re strong, and I’ve seen what Zayne is capable of,” he adds, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “But I still feel like I’m failing. Failing myself… failing you.”

You step closer, forehead pressed against his. “You’re not failing. You’re trusting me. That means the world to me.”

He presses you into the wall taking deep breaths as his lips trail softly across your temple. His hand tightens around yours.

“Just… come back,” he whispers. For a long moment, neither of you move. The hallway is still. Quiet. Just like him.

Then he kisses you.

It starts soft. Just a breath, the ghost of his lips on yours. But the tremble in his hand, the way his chest presses tightly against yours, gives him away. He’s barely holding it together.

Your lips part for him and hesitation melts. Xavier deepens the kiss like he’s been holding it back for days. Weeks. His hands slide to your waist, then up under your shirt, fingertips dragging reverently across your skin as if trying to memorize it. When he pulls back just far enough to press his forehead to yours, his voice comes out rough.

“I don’t know how to do this. Letting you go like this. Not knowing if…”

He kisses you like he’s been starving for you and only just now allowed himself a taste. His tongue slides into your mouth with a possessive, hungry stroke, and his hands grip your hips like he’s terrified you’ll slip away.

You gasp as he pins you to the wall, his thigh forcing your legs apart. He’s already grinding against you, hard and thick through his pants, the pressure perfectly placed between your legs. You arch into him instinctively, and he groans-- low and guttural, like he’s in pain.

“I can’t stand this,” he murmurs against your lips, voice hoarse. “You leaving. Me not going with you.”

“I’ll come back,” you whisper, even though your voice trembles.

His breath hitches at your words, and then he’s moving. Swift, practiced, desperate. He pulls your panties to the side under your skirt and unfastens his pants, breath ragged, freeing himself with shaking hands. He’s already hard, thick and hot against your thigh. There’s no ceremony, no teasing. Just raw need and the tight press of his forehead against yours as he lines himself up and slides in. And God, he’s big. He groans as he sinks past your soaked folds, hips pressing flush with yours, eyelashes fluttering as you moan. He is still for a beat before he whispers, “You’re already wet for me…”

You nod, breathless, and wrap your arms around his neck. “Please. Xavier, please…”

He hikes you up further against the wall, and presses his forehead against yours more firmly before—

“OH, GOD!” You cry out, fingers digging into his shoulders with his first earth shattering thrust. The stretch burns in the best way, and he groans deep in his chest, forehead pressed hard against yours as he bottoms out, cockhead pressed hard against your cervix.

“Starlight,” he breathes. “You feel so good. So tight.”

He holds still, buried deep, letting you adjust, but he’s trembling in his restraint. And when you clench around him, needing more, he snaps.

His hips slam into you, fast and rough, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing down the hall. He fucks you like he’s trying to etch the shape of you into his bones. You can barely breathe between the thrusts, each one deeper and more desperate than the last.

“You always take me so well,” he groans, teeth grazing your neck. “Such a good girl for me.

You whimper, nodding, too far gone to speak. He angles his hips just right and hits that spot inside you, again, and again, and again… until your knees start to shake. You claw at his shoulders, head thrown back as you desperately gasp for air.

“You’re close,” he pants. “I can feel it.”

His hand slides between you, fingers finding your clit with surgical precision. He rubs tight, perfect circles, never losing rhythm, and the orgasm slams into you like a wave. You cry out his name as you come around him, body clenching so hard it drags a strangled groan from his throat.

“That’s it. That’s my girl.” Breathing heavy. Forehead pressed to yours. Hands shaking as they cradle your waist.

You’re still pulsing around him, your breath coming in ragged little gasps when he pulls out suddenly, leaving you aching and empty.

“Xavier-” you start, but he’s already turning you, guiding you to face the wall. One hand splays over your lower back, pressing you forward. You brace yourself on the wall, legs shaky, heart pounding as you feel him line up behind you.

“I’m not done with you,” he says softly, but there’s heat in his voice now, low and sharp, like he’s holding back something feral. “You deserve more than one.”

His cock slides back in with one long, slick thrust and your knees nearly buckle. He fills you so deep from this angle, the stretch sharper, the pace brutal from the start. His fingers dig into your hips as he pulls you back into every thrust, his body flush with yours, like he’s trying to fuck the memory of this into your bones.

You moan, loud, helpless, and he groans when you arch for him, offering more.

And he takes your silent cue. All you can do is scream and take it as he pounds into you, relentless and precise. His rhythm is merciless, hips slamming against your ass with each thrust, the sound obscene, echoing in the quiet corridor.

His hand snakes around again, finding your clit without pause. Two fingers working you in time with his strokes, coaxing another orgasm out of you like he knows your body better than you do. Like he’s studied it. Memorized it.

“Come for me again,” he whispers, gentle, a sharp contrast to the near violent thrusting that sends you careening into the wall.

“Oh, God! Xavier!” Your whole body locks up, the pressure inside you snapping as you come a second time, your cries muffled by your own arm as your body writhes against the wall.

“That’s it, starlight,” he groans, barely holding on as you milk him, your walls fluttering around him in aftershocks. He thrusts once, twice more, then shudders with a strangled moan as he spills inside you, hips jerking as he empties himself twitching with each pulse of your walls as you coax more of his seed out.

He leans over you, breathing hard, his chest rising and falling against your back. His forehead presses to the side of your head as he gently strokes your sides, still inside you, like he can’t bear to pull away yet.

“I hate this,” he murmurs, voice cracking as he pulls out and turns you around to clutch you to his chest. “But if this is the only way… I’ll let you go.”

You cup his cheek, heart aching. “You’re not letting me go. You’re trusting me.”

And even as you both come down from the high, still tangled together against the wall, he doesn’t move. Not until his heartbeat slows, and the tremble in his hands begins to fade.

You're still catching your breath, spine pressed to the wall, Xavier's body warm and solid against yours, his forehead resting lightly on your shoulder. His hand is cradling the back of your neck, grounding you both, as if pulling away too fast might shatter something delicate between you.

His breathing slows, but his other hand still possessively gripped around your hip doesn't move. You feel the edge of guilt press into the moment, not because of anything wrong, but because it’s always like this with him. Like he gives you all of himself, even when it hurts.

That’s when Sylus turns the corner.

Sylus raises a brow, gaze sliding over both of you in a slow, amused sweep. “If you guys keep having sex in common areas, I’m not going to help you when you have to explain to Luke and Kieran where the birds and bees come from.”

“Oh God, you haven’t had that talk with them yet?” You ask, burying your head in the crook of Xavier’s neck where Xavier gently kisses your forehead and rearranges your clothes so that you are decent again.

Sylus looks off contemplatively into the distance before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I honestly… didn’t even think about it until this exact moment.”

He reflects for a moment before motioning to Xavier. “I came here because I need to borrow the sleepy one.”

“What do you need?” Xavier asks, adjusting his clothes as well.

“We don’t have time and I’m not letting Kitten and Zayne go in without eyes. But getting Mephisto in might be tricky, so I need to cloak him. Is that going to be a problem for you?”

Xavier shakes his head, a determined spark in his eyes. “I just need 2 pairs of hands.”

“Then we have 48 hours to make Mephisto invisible. I can be a second pair of hands,” Sylus says, determined to have eyes on you while you are gone. Collectively, everyone rolls up their sleeves to prepare. Rafayel provides you with a homing beacon and Zayne creates a distress lexicon- code words to indicate trouble.

Without having to say it, they remind you that you are loved. And for them, you will do whatever it takes to come back.

***

Dr. Zayne has created a group chat

Dr. Zayne: We have a serious problem. PrettySeaGod: If Zayne is the one starting a group chat, someone call 911. StarBoi: is everything ok? YourNightmare: What’s the deal. Dr. Zayne: Caleb is alive. StarBoi: Caleb the guy she cried over Caleb? YourNightmare: Prick. PrettySeaGod: That’s not fair. You haven’t met him yet. StarBoi: She cried over him for months. He can’t be that bad… Dr. Zayne: No, Sylus is definitely onto something. PrettySeaGod: 😶 YourNightmare: Can we just kill him? Starboi: The answer isn’t always murder, Sylus. Dr. Zayne: You tried killing us and couldn’t. You’d think a lesson would have been learned. YourNightmare: But that was 1v1. There are four of us now. Your Nightmare: 4v1 PrettySeaGod: Wait. Sylus has a point. StarBoi: Not you too. Dr. Zayne: You think she’d forgive you if you killed someone she loved that much? PrettySeaGod: Stop making so much sense. 😭 YourNightmare: Well, the good Doctor grew up with them. How big a problem will this be? Dr. Zayne: He was dangerously possessive before all of this already. We met up in the hospital and she said she knows it’s the same Caleb, but he is unhinged. Something happened to him. PrettySeaGod: Yeah. He blew up. StarBoi: That’s enough to make me cranky. Dr. Zayne: She said it’s almost like he is a different person. I’m looking through medical research here. Lots on chips inserted into the brain, suppressors, mind control… YourNightmare: Get as much info as you can. YourNightmare: She will want us to save him. StarBoi: Change your mind that fast? YourNightmare: Zayne is right. Not sure how this is going to go, but we aren’t going to be doing ourselves any favors by trying to cut this guy out of her life. PrettySeaGod: There are already 4 of us! StarBoi: Yes. We can count. PrettySeaGod: Her poor holes. StarBoi: She hasn’t complained yet. PrettySeaGod: We are NOT adding a sixth guy to the mix. Dr. Zayne: You are already assuming Caleb is just going to be a given fifth? YourNightmare: Stop trying to fool yourself. Kitten… gets what she wants. Dr. Zayne: I hate all of you. StarBoi: Tell us more about him. Dr. Zayne: He has a Gravity Evol. StarBoi: Fuck. PrettySeaGod: FUCK YourNightmare: Fuck… Dr. Zayne: If he doesn’t come quietly, it’s not going to be a fun day.

***

He probably would have called you a baby if you cried in front of him. That is, if there was enough of the old Caleb left in him.

Something was definitely up. Something sinister… terrifying. Something that made the pit of your stomach churn enough to keep you up all night.

This should have been a happy moment…

Finding out the boy you loved so much is still alive after you were certain you watched him die? This should have been a moment of pure bliss. But the past few days were simply uncomfortable and you can barely recognize the boy you once loved so dearly, standing in front of you.

“Make sure you eat on time… Look after yourself,” he says softly in a tone that makes you want to believe that the old Caleb is still in there somewhere. He looks down on you with sad eyes and you stay silent, knowing that with the snap of a finger, he could simply force you to come with him. You shudder at the thought.

You never could best his gravity evol.

You pick at a hangnail nervously as the turmoil upsets your stomach until it bleeds and you find yourself thankful for the pain because it grounds you and makes you focus on what’s in front of you. Determined and steadfast, you resolve to rescue him- to save him from the dark forces moving in the shadows… he still hasn’t figured out that his necklace is a tracker and you hope that he doesn’t become wise to it.

You are almost certain he has placed one on you somewhere but… fuck it. Let him come. The moment you enter the N109, you are safe, surrounded by almost all the men you love. Men that love you so much, they would help you get Caleb back, you are certain of it.

Zayne arrived home moments before you did after you made your obligatory stop at the Hunter’s Association to fill Captain Jenna in on the mission that “never happened.”

And when you stumble past the front doors to the base for Onychinus, you finally break down, sobbing as they draw near, like ghosts summoned by your grief.

It's hard to breathe, even as Xavier’s arms circle you and of course he’d be the first one at the door, always quiet, always feeling. He says nothing, only cradling you to his chest like something that is delicate and broken, careful that the pieces of you don’t fall apart.

The others soon follow, knowing just what you need. Silence. Support. Love.

“I thought I could reach him,” you choke out. “If I just… stayed long enough. If I said the right thing. If I loved him hard enough…”

One of them carried you to your room and delicately placed you on the bed. You didn’t register who, because despite your turmoil, you finally feel safe. Safe enough to sleep, surrounded by the warmth and smell of the people you trust.

You didn’t feel safe at Caleb’s.

A hand cups your cheek, another tucks your hair damp from tears behind your ear. There are no questions, no whispers, and no requests. Your eyes are swollen shut from crying and your chest tight, but they soothe you, bed dipping around you creating a nest of warmth and aroma that you’ve sorely missed.

Strong hands delicately undress you for comfort and it feels safe as you are stripped down to nothing but panties and tucked into a blanket, sighing as you feel their bodies surround you. Eyes still closed; you feel them all make space for each other as their arms circle you. You are tucked into the very center of the bed and they lay outward, pulling pillows to your sides so they can nestle their heads under your arms and against your hips. Mint, gunpowder, antiseptic, amber, lemons, the familiar scents mixed with their unique musks envelop you as you fade to black, gently humming your appreciation as you feel fingers caress your bare skin.

You can talk about Caleb in the morning.

***

You wake to warmth.

Soft, steady breaths surround you, and the bed is heavy with the weight of bodies tangled close. You're not sure who’s where at first… only that you’re safe. Cocooned in the men you trust and it pains you that this is not at all how you felt when you were with Caleb.

When you shift slightly, Sylus is the first to stir. His arm tightens around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest. He presses a kiss to your temple, murmuring something half-asleep before settling again, breath slowing.

Your small movement causes a ripple. Zayne exhales deeply and shifts behind you, his hand splaying across your stomach. Rafayel makes a soft sound and nestles closer, still holding your hand. Xavier’s arm curls tighter over your thigh where he rests near your hip, face still hidden in your side.

You smile faintly into the pillow, exhaling a breath you didn’t know you were holding. This is what safety feels like. And in your safety, you fade back to sleep, nearly coming back each time one of them shifted.

Then the kisses began. It didn’t really matter who slept in your bed, they all kissed you awake slowly, dotingly. And this morning, Rafayel was the one kissing your hip above your panty line before nuzzling against your skin. He always tried to go back to sleep after this. But instead, he’d inhale your scent and grow needy, nuzzling to enjoy your musk and the feel of you until he needed more. You smile a bit in anticipation, sighing as Zayne comes closer, hand coming to cup and hold your breast in his sleep.

Rafayel doesn’t stop at nuzzling. His lips trail lazy, open-mouthed kisses along your hip, then moves lower, his breath warm where your panties cling damp to you. He hums softly, pleased, and his hand slides up your thigh, fingertips dipping under the fabric until he finds the soft bundle of nerves beneath.

You suck in a breath, hips twitching at the contact.

“Mmh… there she is,” he whispers, barely audible. His fingers move in slow circles, light and teasing, like he has all the time in the world.

Your mewl breaks the quiet and something in the bed shifts. Zayne makes a low sound behind you, his hand tightening around your breast. Xavier stirs at your side, breath catching. Sylus, ever attuned to your every sound, presses closer and noses along your jaw.

No one says anything. They don’t have to. The air grows heavier with shared heat, the kind that lingers, slow and inevitable. Rafayel presses soft kisses over your belly as his fingers begin to move with more purpose, savoring every shiver he pulls from you.

Your breath catches again as Rafayel circles your clit with slow, deliberate strokes, his lips brushing the inside of your thigh as he hums against your skin. There’s no urgency in his touch. There is only that familiar neediness he gets when he’s close to you, when the scent of you seeps into his senses and unravels him.

Zayne’s hand never leaves your breast, gently cupping it as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, mouthing at your skin with lazy affection. Xavier shifts slightly, trailing kisses across your stomach before resting his cheek there, one arm still slung heavy across your hips.

Sylus stays at your back, arm wrapped tightly around your middle, his chest warm against your spine. He presses a kiss behind your ear, murmuring something you don’t catch but feel in the way his thumb strokes over your ribs.

Then Rafayel’s voice breaks the hush, low and hoarse against your skin.

“What can you handle right now?” he asks. “One at a time, or do you want us all?”

The question barely registers through your fog and you smile through the haze of pleasure when Mephisto flies in squawking urgently.

Everyone jolts.

Sylus is the first to move, arm locking tighter around your waist as his head snaps up. His eyes follow the blur of metal wings as Mephisto dives low, frantic, before landing on the dresser with another sharp CAW!

“We’ve got incoming,” Sylus says, already reaching for his phone.

Zayne pushes upright beside you, hair mussed, face still flushed with sleep. “Is it Caleb?”

You grab your phone with shaky fingers, flipping to the tracker app. Your pulse spikes. “No. He’s still in the Deepspace tunnel.”

Rafayel is already off the bed, barefoot and shirtless, dragging on his pants. “Then who the fuck—”

Another CAW!

Xavier checks the Hunter’s Association comms. “I’ve got nothing.”

“Its an aircraft coming in fast. We don’t have time.” Sylus hurriedly pulls on his clothes and you follow suit as you pull your tracker up on your phone.

“If it is not Caleb. They’re here for me,” you say quietly, heart sinking as you clutch the sheets to your chest.

They all freeze for a beat. Not Caleb. So… who?

Down the hall, in the dining room, Luke’s head jerks up from his plate. His twin is already standing, a flicker of unease in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Kieran mutters. “Something’s wrong.”

Jeremiah was called in the moment Zayne had mentioned Caleb’s existence and was already moving toward the front bay window, bootsteps slow but heavy. His stance stiffens, body reacting before his mind catches up. “Something’s coming in fast. I can feel the vibrations through the ground.”

Luke rises next, grabbing a tablet off the table and pulling up security system for the base. “Aircraft,” he says. “Farspace Fleet insignia.”

“Flying close enough to the ground to make the trees scream,” Jeremiah remarks ominously.

Kieran swears under his breath. “Let’s go.”

“I call the big rocket launcher!” Luke shouts as he runs for the armory.

Footsteps thunder from every direction as the crew converges on Sylus’s private armory, an entire wing filled with rows of high-grade weapons, sealed crates, and gleaming tech. The lights flick on automatically, casting a cold glow over the walls of organized destruction.

“Jeremiah!” You call out in shock and he smiles, offering a small nod. But unfortunately, there is no time for explanations.

Luke whistles low. “Every time I come in here, I feel like we’re about to rob a small planet.”

“It’s so beautiful,” Kieran adds with giddy.

“Where’s the rocket launcher rack? I know I saw them last time…” Rafayel shouts already sprinting into the far back of the room.

“Back left,” Sylus says without looking, opening a hidden drawer and pulling out several holsters and bullet proof vests. “Grab what you need and move fast. We don’t have time.”

Zayne only gears protective gear and tech, preferring to fight with his evol.

“Farspace Fleet doesn’t drop in unless they plan on taking someone.”

“They’re not taking her,” Xavier says flatly, strapping on a bullet proof vest.

Jeremiah senses movement with his evol. “They are spreading out very fast. Each of us has a lot of ground to cover.”

“Found it!” Rafayel crows from across the room, lifting one of three massive rocket launchers, cradling it like precious cargo. “I finally get to fire one of these things!”

“The first time is the best,” Luke shouts with glee, grabbing another launcher off the wall.

Kieran practically dances as he arms the third. “Don’t miss.”

“This is a serious engagement,” Sylus says without turning around.

“So are rockets!” Rafayel shouts as he runs out of the armory with the twins.

“Kids are going to ruin my lawn again,” Sylus mutters as he grabs extra magazines.

You jog out last, already strapping on a tactical vest, pulse racing. Everyone freezes just long enough to hear the low whump of engines outside. The aircraft is descending fast.

You’d done drills for this scenario a dozen times but nothing prepares you for the feeling of your heart violently thumping your chest, racing so fast you can even feel it in your ears. And it certainly didn’t help that you simply couldn’t count the paratroopers that dotted the sky, but everyone watches with baited breath as Luke and Kieran walk Rafayel through arming and aiming the rocket launcher.

And the kick off, the rocket aims true, bringing the aircraft crashing the ground as the twins and Raf cheer.

But… most of the soldiers have already made it to the ground.

The revelry in chaos and destruction is short lived. The cheering stops, because its waves of soldiers and they are well trained, backed with the full might of the Farspace Fleet. Formations are formed quickly and they are close enough for you to hear them begin to bark orders.

“Everyone knows the drill for ground attacks. Hold the line.” Sylus orders and everyone readies themselves as Jeremiah moves first and suddenly you realize you have no idea what his evol is. He stretches out his arms and a large trench begins to form in the ground as trees begin to form a large barrier, certainly not enough to stop them, but enough to at least slow them down.

“Oh. Yeah, I like this guy,” Sylus remarks as he sees just why Jeremiah laid down trenches, in the distance, tanks approach. “Alright, we have 3 more tanks and 2 more rocket launchers. Aim true.”

Luke and Kieran are already in position aiming for the tanks on the left and right in sync, they launch their rockets. And… *boom* the shots indeed land, taking the tanks out with them, but something doesn’t seem right to you amidst the chaos.

Coordinated and without needing to communicate, Xavier and his light blade acting as a line breaker, paves the way for Rafayel and the twins. The twins wreak havoc on incoming soldiers, riding around like fiends on their motorcycles and armed to the teeth as Rafayel pushes forward to reach the final tank.

“You aren’t supposed to touch the rocket launchers, Rafayel. The rocket launchers are dangerous, Rafayel,” Rafayel whines through comms. “Well guess what? I’m more dangerous than a rocket launcher, BITCHES!” he shouts as he leaps up, firing at the final tank and melting it to the ground.

“Yeah. Good for you,” Sylus responds dismissively as Zayne and Jeremiah bolster barricades with earth and ice. The only reason you know Xavier is still alive is because you see light flash across the battle field. He moves in zigzags, cutting people down before they even know what hit them.

They may be worth a thousand men in the battlefield, but that is what you are facing… thousands. And even as Rafayel and Xavier cut down formations effortlessly, air filled with the sound of the dying, the frontline still reaches the edge of the base.

You start to move, weapons ready. You are dangerous yourself; you know it. But both Sylus and Zayne stop you.

“I have to do… something,” you say heatedly. This mess is because of you. You can’t stay idly by.

Zayne lifts your chin to meet your eyes. “You are their goal. It doesn’t matter how skilled you are, if we let you fight, its like putting the ball right in the other teams’ hands.”

He is right of course, but that doesn’t stop you from hating him for it. Zayne has never been good with words and you watch the conflict on his face for a split second before he simply presses a kiss to your head and leaps away, into battle where you are forbidden to follow.

“We are the last line, kitten.” Sylus says, bolstering you as he looks out on the line breaching Zayne’s and Jeremiah’s walls. Jeremiah moves a lot faster than you could ever expect from someone who is living in peace selling flowers.

To their credit, they are right. Hundreds are running at the base right now and its all you can do to keep up and you fire shot after shot, even as Sylus’s home defenses activate. Turrets begin to fire auto targeting the enemy, and it becomes abundantly obvious now, why Sylus had your body scanned from a hundred different angles the first time you stepped foot into the base.

“This… doesn’t seem right,” you observe, the tension in the air adding to the pressure suffocating you in your chest. “If there are only here for me, a full-frontal attack makes sense.”

Sylus focuses on the breach on the left as you take a minute to think. No bullets, a full-frontal assault. An overwhelming number of soldiers for 1 person.

This was a distraction.

You start speaking into your comms, you try to let them know, but another farspace fleet aircraft begins to descend on the base and you just know that this one is the one that is coming for you.

“The frontal assault is a distraction, there is another-“

The comm is yanked from your ear and you are squeezed so tightly you can’t breathe. You barely recognize the hiss of a slimy snake as his voice slithers its way in your ear, unsettling and making you shiver.

“Heh, come quietly and we won’t hurt your friendsss.” His limbs stretch impossibly long and he squeezes you tighter. You can’t answer. You can’t breathe. He carries you as your lungs burn and vision slowly fades to black. And you look at the aircraft hovering when a single figure descends from the sky.

Sylus is drowning in bodies wasted at his feet, but it doesn’t matter because he needs you to be safe, returned to his arms and he comes at you with every bit of fury, mounting a bike as Viper binds you and throws you into the back of his car.

The whole team is rushing, converging to one point with a singular goal; You. And just as everyone gathers behind Viper’s escaping vehicle, the figure descending from the plane lands, right in front of the escaping vehicle.

“Pain in the asssss!” Viper shouts as he tries to dodge the figure, but suddenly it feels like you are floating and strong hands rip you from the back of the vehicle. The whole car is floating, 4 tires spinning with no traction when it’s flung to the side with little care. And as the figure unbinds you, a familiar scent envelops you to confirm what you already know.

“I don’t know who the fuck you guys are, but I’ll deal with you later,” Caleb says coldly before leveling every threat, his evol forcing the Farspace Fleet to the ground.

The group freezes for a moment, unsure how to react to this turn of events when Zayne breaks ranks, approaching Caleb fast, expression blank.

“Oh, Zayne? Is that you?!” Caleb lets his guard down for a moment and that is all Zayne needs to cock his fist back and punch Caleb in the face, knuckles connecting square with Caleb’s jaw and you gasp. You barely register Rafayel’s low whisper, can’t see Sylus’s eyes widen just slightly in shock, can’t see the jealous scowl Xavier wears, or the awkward glances that Luke, Kieran and Jeremiah exchange.

But here, Zayne somehow maintains his composure, flicking his fingers and wrists as Caleb clutches his jaw and coldly says, “That… is for making her cry.”

130 notes · View notes

dzvelinaskebiyars · 3 days ago

Text

Fucked it up !

Yet another fic hehe:3 doing anything but posting part 4 of Moth Drawn To Flame...Forgive me y'all! I'm having writer's block, so I don't like anything I'm writing rn. I don't like this either but, oh well...I still wanna keep updating. Anyway, dividers by @cafekitsune tagging: @shintaru @ravenwritten @bfwooin @sylith @wthphe1n @zyart-jpg @bunnygirlgonewild @kuchisabishiiiii @i-nssomniia @mscatheart @erisawrites

Wooin has always been the type to catch up on trends, know what's trending rn and what's not. To be entirely honest, he's the one that introduced you to many trends in the first place, which later you got obsessed with. And truthfully? He didn't mind. Those stupid pranks you pulled? Entertaining, at least for him—even though you'd get frustrated for almost never being able to prank him. But whenever you succeed, you'd always celebrate it and gosh, that cute little celebration? He found it so adorable that he couldn't even get mad at you.

He was almost always informed on what was going on social media and never has he made a mistake during pranks or even during your stupid lil questions that girlfriends often asked their boyfriends.

But everything can happen at least once, huh?

You were spread out on the bed, watching Wooin play one of his online game that you already forgot the name of—but he surely loved it. However, your mind was drifting to another places, specifically to the memory of something you came across on tiktok and for whatever reason, curiosity ate you up whole, wanting to know how Wooin would react.

So, with a playful smirk, you leaned over his shoulder and rested your chin on him, mumbling excitedly. "Damnn, my current boyfriend is very good at playing games."

His fingers paused, his head tilting a little to get a look at your expression. He wasn't offended, no. He was trying to figure you out. What intentions did you have now, huh? Make him jealous? How cute. Shouldn't you know better?

You spoke up again. "I want to play it with you, current boyfriend."

He almost snickered. "Current?"

You hummed, nodding your head. "Yup, current."

Oh. He gets it. That's what you want, huh. Well, two can play at that game.

"Aww, really.." He turned to his screen once again, continuing his game. "I'm your current boyfriend?"

"Yup!" You answered without hesitation.

"Then you're my current girlfriend. Still thinking if I should keep you or upgrade to someone who can cook."

He said it.

Gosh, he really said it.

With no hesitation.

Your smile faltered before completely disappearing, your eyebrows knitted together as you frowned upon him. "What..?"

He turned to look at you, completely unfazed by what he just said. "What?"

"Why would you say that?" You tried to laugh but your voice almost cracked.

He sighed like this was giving him headache, turning his phone off. "Because you started it?"

"I called you my current boyfriend because I want you to be my husband one day..." You explained, your voice trailing quieter, watching the way his mouth parted open in surprise. "But..You think I'm repleacable instead?"

His phone almost dropped from his hands, his expression more than just surprised, but also capturing the moment of realization on him. He could swear to god, he started cursing himself in his head.

"No. No, I don't—fuck, baby, I was joking." He gets up from the floor, sitting on the bed beside you, his fingers immediately linking with you.

You fought the urge to swat his hand away, but you didn't. In the end, you knew he just misunderstood what you were trying to say but, damn, that hurt so bad. And that familiar yet very unpleasant feeling of your heart feeling heavy, eyes burning from unshed tears, settled in your chest. "You...You said it like it could happen, you know."

"I'm sorry.." He groaned, laying you back down on your back, his head resting on your chest while his arms wrapped themselves around your waist. "I thought you were pranking me and I thought I'd match your energy, but I misunderstood what you truly meant. And you know how I am—Joking about shits I shouldn't."

You sighed to yourself, your gaze glued to ceiling. "You're stupid."

He clossed his eyes in acceptance. "Yeah, yeah, I'm stupid." Though, there was no seriousness in his voice while saying that.

"And idiotic if you thought I'd ever joke about replacing you." You huffed, shifting beneath him to have space for yourself but he has glued himself on you like a parasite, unwilling to let you go, like his life depended on you.

"I'm sorry, I fucked it up." He muttered, cursing under his breath. How could he not understand your intentions in the first place? You were like an open book, easy to read, easy to understand. But only because he thought he could get stupid for a second— gosh, the more he thinks about it, the more he hates himself for it. "It was just a dumb joke. I didn't mean it."

You didn't answer. Instead, you were much more interested in the ceiling, avoiding eye contact with him. He groaned again—not in annoyance, no—but because he felt so stupid in moments like this, awkward and stupid. "You're not gonna be replaced, you know that, right?"

You finally looked at him, your lips curled in disdain and unamusement. "I better not. Or I'll cut your balls off."

"See?" He smirked, lifting his head from your chest. "Who needs forgiveness when I can have my beautiful girlfriend threatening me with Castration?"

Your lips twitched in smile slightly and he didn't miss that moment. His heart calmed down now that he successfully made you smile, even if slight.

"But seriously..." He rubbed his neck, glancing down at you. "Let me make it up to you, yeah?"

"And how?" You raised your eyebrow at him.

"I'll buy us matching rings from Chrome Hearts, deal? The ones you've been eyeing for." He noticed. He always noticed how much you loved Chrome Hearts rings. So, for a while, he's been planning to make them customize for you and perfect moment for that finally came.

His attentiveness made you forget about what you were upset about in the first place. You sit up on the bed, still not done with him. "And ice cream."

"And ice cream, of course."

You bit your lip. Gosh, he was so annoying sometimes but great heavens, you were so lucky to have him.

"And kisses." He added, his smirk stretching wider.

"What—Oh—" You were caught off guard by him suddenly pressing his lips to yours in a firm kiss, as if he was pouring all his apologies and promises in it.

And maybe he was. Hence, he kissed you breathless, cupping your cheek in his hand, slowly cradling you as if you were most delicate thing he has ever touched.

When you finally pulled away to catch your breath—cheeks flushed, he asked. "Am I forgiven?"

You nodded your head, still distracted by the kiss and closeness of his presence. "Mhm. But don't joke like that again."

"I won't." He left peck on your lips. "Never again."

#windbreaker webtoon #sabbath crew #windbreaker manhwa #wooin windbreaker #wooin yoo #wooin windbreaker x reader #yoo wooin #wooin x reader #wooin yoo x reader

67 notes · View notes

theweightofmercy · 3 months ago

Text

good for you - a joel miller fic

after three years away in los angeles, you return home in austin to spend the summer with friends & family. what comes as a surprise is the new way you're treated by joel, a close family friend. something in the air has shifted and you're not sure what.

{ chapter one }

my first fic ever written! this will be a multi part series.

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

warnings: no outbreak, age gap, reader is early 20s while joel is late 40s, angst, joel is a dick, this chapter is really slow (not sorry), no smut, 3k words.

divider from @lavendergalactic

You shuffle across the worn kitchen tile, mind still foggy of somnolence and eyes half closed. Making way to the kitchen table, you squint across the room to the time-stamp on the oven – 3:07am. It certainly wasn’t your intention to be awake again at this hour, you can blame the recurrent situation on the slew of nightmares you’ve been having for the past week and a half.

You pull out a chair from the table and let yourself slump down (quiet enough to keep your dad from stirring in the room above). You let out a small sigh of frustration and prop your elbows onto the table, letting your head fall into your open palms. You’re exhausted. It’s entirely reasonable to believe you’ve only gotten about twelve good hours of sleep in the past ten days.

It’s the first week of June, school is out and you’re back home with your dad for the summer. It’s been three years since you’ve been home. I guess you can say you’ve just been busy with life out in LA. You’ve been back home for almost two weeks but have yet to see any familiar faces besides your dad’s and Marcy’s.

As if on queue, you hear the quiet pitter-patter of her paws against the floor. She takes her position atop the aged rug, cuddled up next to your feet. You don’t miss how she bumps into the leg of the table first; she’s getting older.

Your dad had asked if you would help him with his vegetable garden once you were back in town and of course, you agreed. Even though you know how he gets when something isn’t done exactly how he wants it, (and he knows you're not the greatest listener) you agreed. He misses you. You miss him. You owe him for the time you’ve been away, often getting too caught up with school and work or just the general hustle of college life to text back or call.

Marcy whines under the table and you peek down at her. “What’s wrong, honey?” you say softly, half expecting an answer. You frown slightly when you receive no reply. It was worth a try, you think. You stand up from the table and walk toward the back door, Marcy in tow. You open the door, now only separated from the back porch by the thin screen door. You shiver as the wind picks up slightly and nestles itself across your skin. “Please make this quick, Marce,” you say as you swing open the screen door, letting her out to do her business. You stand there outside the door, arms wrapped around your shoulders, trying to keep in whatever body heat you can while carefully observing the dog from the porch.

You feel slightly vulnerable standing here, in only one of what you assume to be an old t-shirt from your dad and a very unsexy pair of underwear. The porch light is on, illuminating your position. You spend more time swatting tiny bugs out of your face than you do actually watching the dog. It’s all wooded area behind your dad’s house but you can’t shake the feeling of someone being able to see you. You’ve been a little paranoid since the nightmares started, always someone chasing or watching you. “Come on Marce!” you whisper-yell from where you’re standing. It’s cold as shit out here.

You make your way back upstairs to your bedroom, Marcy following closely behind. You pass by your dad’s bedroom and can hear his snore from the hallway. You stifle a laugh as you pass and shut your bedroom door behind you, crawling into bed once more. The sweet puppy joins you, taking her usual spot next to your feet. You fiddle with the hem of your blanket for a while, mind drifting back and forth between various thoughts. You eventually fall back to sleep, the lack of it finally catching up.

You wake the next morning to the sound of obnoxiously loud voices downstairs. Your eyes aren’t even fully open before you can tell who’s talking. You groan loudly and roll onto your stomach, pulling the pillow down over your head. Marcy whines at the bedroom door. “5 more minutes, please, Marce,” you mumble into the mattress. She whines again and paws at the door. You let out a sigh and peer at her from where you’re oddly sprawled out under the blankets. Fine.

You slowly, very slowly, drag yourself out of bed and pull on a pair of pajama pants. You pull your hair back out of your face and open the door for Marcy. You can still hear the voices downstairs, it’s your dad, Tommy, and Joel. If it were anyone else you probably would have showered and changed clothes before heading down, but you’ve known the Millers for years. Your dad and them have a construction company together and you’ve been close with Joel’s daughter for as long as you can remember. She’s a few years younger than you but the bond you have is unbreakable.

You walk downstairs and go straight for the coffee pot on the kitchen counter, not even bothering to reply to Tommy’s “Hey kid!” from the living room as you pass. You pour yourself a cup before the party of men decides to join you in the kitchen. You grin slightly as you lean against the counter, sipping coffee, and pretending to hate the way Tommy pulls you in for a side hug, rustling your hair playfully. Joel and your dad take their seats at the kitchen table, still immersed in their own conversation.

“Where the hell you been, kid?” Tommy asks, joining the others at the table. The focus of the room now turned to you. You shrug and shift your weight uncomfortably and stare down at your coffee, some of the grounds have floated to the top. This isn’t a great topic to start the day with.

“Seems like you’re enjoying the fancy-pants art school out in LA, huh?” Joel answers for you. “No time to come home anymore?” You look at them, guilty. You don’t have the patience or energy to deal with this intervention right now. You scoff slightly and glare daggers back at Joel. You can’t tell if you imagine the way his eyes linger on the exposed skin of your collarbone for half a second too long.

Your dad frowns and is almost glaring at you, “You know I told her to stay close to home… just had to go and follow those big dreams.” You sneer at him again and push away from the counter, walking toward the hallway. Your dad had always hated the idea of you moving across the country for school. In a way, that only fueled your instinctual teenage rebellion. "I don't wanna be stuck in this shit-hole town like you three forever," you say playfully, heading back upstairs.

You hear the men’s conversation resume as you enter the bathroom, the house small enough that you can tell how quickly the conversation switched from you to the job they’re currently working.

You take extra time in the shower for no particular reason other than the fact that it’s a Sunday, and that’s about all the excuse you need for a self-care moment. Your mind slips back to the men at the table, their condescending tone regarding your choice to move still stings. Especially from Joel. He’s never been one to judge your plans, hell, he was the one that practically pushed you onto that plane. You don’t understand his sudden change of heart that he portrayed downstairs.

You’re excited to see Sarah today; you haven’t seen her since you’ve been back home and she’s been making sure you don't forget it.

Sarah: When are you coming over??!! 6 min ago.

Sarah: Istg if I knew you weren’t in the shower right now I’d come over there and drag you out of that house myself. 2 min ago.

You take time getting ready, trying to pick out something to wear that would impress Sarah. She’s only 5 years younger than you but still, teenagers are intimidating. Sarah and Joel moved into the house across the street from yours when you were about 10 and two years later your dad joined the partnership of Miller’s Construction. Joel has always been like a dad to you in a way, making sure you were fed and looked after during summer sleepovers with Sarah as children. Tommy has always been much less of a father figure, often getting himself in trouble and needing Joel's help out of a bad situation. You think of him more like a really obnoxious OLDER brother.

You moved out to LA for change when you graduated, the goal of obtaining a master’s degree in fine arts. Being from the south you’d always hear, “An art degree ain’t gettin’ you nowhere, kid” or “Don’t know why you’re wastin’ money on a bullshit degree like that…” mostly coming from estranged people you know, your high school friends, their parents, but mostly your dad. You don’t care, you never did. You were going to do what you wanted, how you wanted, and you weren’t going to let anyone get in the way of that.

It’s nearly 2:00pm before you make your way across the street to Sarah’s. She has the door swung wide before you even step foot in the driveway. “Jesus, you been watching me from the damn window?” you shout to her as you approach. “Pretty much.” she says with a smile as she practically suffocates you with her hug. “I’ve missed you.” she whispers into your shoulder. You try to ignore the way her voice gets caught in her throat. But you’re quiet for a second, giving Sarah what she needs. Then finally, “Come onnnn, it’s only been three years!” you say with a small smile and playfully shove her off.

The two of you spend the next 8 hours talking, laughing ‘til you cry, and overall debriefing the past three years; Sarah’s going to graduate high school next year, you’re going to graduate college, you hear all about the boy she’s been sneaking out with on weekends, and you tell her about all the crazy parties and people you’ve met out in LA.

Some time later, you’re sprawled out on the floor of her bedroom flipping through a magazine while she doodles in her notebook on the bed. After a few silent seconds, “You’re not moving there permanently when you graduate, right?” she asks quietly. You pause; you’ve not really given it any thought before. “I don’t know.. I haven’t had to think about that yet.” Sarah keeps her eyes glued to her notebook and nods. “Guess you should probably start thinking about that.”

It’s around 2:00am when the front door of Sarah’s house shuts with a loud thud. Loud enough to wake you. You’re partly thankful, partly annoyed. You were having another nightmare, but one of those where you can’t get yourself to wake up from. You shift on the floor and sit up, rubbing your eyes and look over at Sarah, who’s tangled in the blankets on her bed. Your back is killing you, you didn’t plan to crash on Sarah’s bedroom floor.

You stand and gather your phone and keys from the nightstand before making your way through the house to the front door. You hear faint shuffling and clinking of glass in the kitchen on your way, so you stop in, knowing it could only be one person. “Joel?” you say, flipping the kitchen light on. Joel startles slightly at your voice and turns to face you from the counter, eyes squinting at the sudden light. “What are you doing up so late? Isn’t it past your bedtime?” you joke, hiding a smile behind your palm. “Could be askin’ you the same question.” he grumbles, reaching into the cabinet for a (presumably) whiskey glass.

Not in the mood to talk tonight, noted.

“Well, I’m just leaving. Didn’t mean to fall asleep here,” you yawn, turning to move toward the front door. You see him reach for the bottle of honey-colored liquid and pour himself a glass. He hums slightly in response before putting the bottle back and facing you again. “I’ll walk you back over, s’ too late for you to be out alone anyways.” You scoff, slightly offended that Joel thinks you can't handle yourself on a 30 second walk across the street. Joel walks past you and toward the front door, slipping his boots on. “Don’t worry about it Joel, I’m good. It’s just across the street.” You motion to your dad’s house across the way as follow him, shuffling your shoes and jacket back on.

Joel grumbles something unintelligible. When you turn to open the door, Joel’s already there and heading outside. You roll your eyes and make a stabbing motion with your keys behind him.

The two of you walk down the driveway together in silence until, “Sarah’s really missed you.” You swallow feelings of guilt and start to feel a pang in your chest. “I know.”

You notice the oh so slight stumble in Joel’s walk, and given the smell of him you’re sure he’s been at the bar for a few hours prior, with your dad or Tommy surely. “Guess you think you can just leave your life here behind, and start fresh out there?” Your eyes snap over to Joel and you halt. You’re standing in the middle of the road.

“What is your problem?” you ask, watching as he steps onto your dad’s driveway. "All that shit you gave me this morning? And now this? I thought you were on my side here." He turns and looks at you, his face glowing under the nearby streetlamp. You’ve never noticed the way his eyes soften under amber lighting or the delicate way they crease in the corners, and you don’t know why now has to be that time. You don’t understand the look in his eyes. He looks almost... hurt?

“Seems like you’re doin’ just fine out there. New friends, new job. Three years without visiting your dad, and Sarah? You’re breakin’ her heart.” All you can do is stare at him, deadweight in the middle of the road.

You don't know if you’re confused or angry. Maybe both. “C’mon get out of the damn road.” he says as he reaches his arm out to you.

"I don't need your fucking help," you spit at him.

You don’t move. Why is he acting like this? He’s half the reason you found the courage to leave in the first place. “You have no idea what I’m doing with my life, for myself,” you say staring him down from the street.

He brings the glass to his lips again, “I’d say that’s the exact fuckin’ issue then, wouldn’t you? All the time I spent helping you prepare to move, convincing your dad to let you leave in the first place. And you can't even spare a call back home? Too good for us lowlifes out here, huh?"

You glare at him and push past him, not wanting to hear another word that he has to say. You knew coming back home would have it's consequences. You just didn't think it would be Joel giving you the shit.

“Three years and not a weekend back home? No holiday or birthday surprises for your dad?” you hear Joel as you make your way to the front door, tears welling in your eyes. You’re not sure what feeling you can associate them with.

I don’t owe anyone an explanation, you think to yourself. Except you do. You know you do. You did plan on making frequent trips back home. But life was different once you started school and work, you simply didn’t have the time. That's what you tell yourself. You tried to keep in touch with Sarah and your dad, made them both promises that you’d come home to visit soon... none of which were actually fulfilled until now.

You reach the front door and pause before you go in. Joel is still standing in your dad’s driveway, you can feel his stare burn into the back of your head. You turn to face him, keeping distance. Joel stares at you, you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes. “The last time Sarah told me you were coming down was ‘round Christmas.” Joel states, glass empty.

Your face flushes, you can feel the guilt practically seeping out of your pores. You’re thankful for the dim lighting of the street lamps and the distance between you two. “I planned on coming,” you’re quiet for a moment, careful what you let slip. “Something came up.” Joel half nods and you think you can hear a faint scoff. He turns around and starts back across the street. “Yeah… planned on coming the year before too, right? Something come up then too?”

You give no response, turning around and walking inside. You don’t stop to listen for the sound of your dad’s snoring or the pitter-patter of Marcy’s feet. You just walk to your bedroom and shut the door quietly, slipping into the plush nest of blankets and pillows. You lay there, eyes open, unable to focus on anything other than the guilt and betrayal pounding in your chest.

You wish you could explain the real reasons you never came home. Why all communication was so limited. The wound is just too fresh to delve into again.

You’re still half awake when dawn breaks, needing the rest but not wanting to succumb to the possibility of another nightmare. Your mind is still on Joel and the abnormal way he was speaking to you, the smell of whiskey on his clothes, the way he would stare a little too long at your exposed skin under the streetlamp.

You understand why he would be frustrated with the situation, but this all just seems so blown up. Something is different, he’s not the same Joel that you left knowing, three years ago. He seems… darker? Moody. A whole lot more asshole-y than you remember. He’s definitely not the same man you looked up to as a young girl.

The sun is almost fully risen when you finally doze off.

okay, hi! this is the first fic i have ever written in my life so please be kind :') i am so excited to continue this storyline, please let me know if you have any advice or recommendations! & if you would be so kind as to reblog this story i dearly appreciate it x

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #first fanfic

81 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 1 year ago

Text

Dark and Light

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You learn the real reason why Hydra wants to keep you.

Word Count: Over 2.65k

Warnings: Threat of dubcon/noncon, minor character death, violence, canon divergent, captivity, brainwashing, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: It's been almost 3 years since the last part of Soldat and Sparrow. Are you lovelies still interested? ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @silkholland . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The cell they kept you in this time was larger than your last. It didn't make it any less uncomfortable. The thick gray walls surrounding you made the room suffocatingly quiet and hollow. You only knew the color thanks to the singular lightbulb in the center of the ceiling, too high for you to try and make a weapon out of the glass. Without windows, you didn't know it was dark or light outside.

There was no escape, but you couldn't give up hope.

It was maddening not knowing the time of day as you played the waiting game on the worn mattress in between meals and sleeping. The screams of your lover played on a morbid loop in your mind and you had to will yourself to not let tears surface. Other than temporary relief for your emotions and aching heart, crying would do you no good. It never did.

What you needed to do was focus.

The man on the bridge.

He triggered something inside of the Winter Soldier. Something Hydra wanted to keep locked away. But what was it?

Bucky. He called him Bucky. He knew him. But how?

Two hard knocks on the door pushed the thought away before it swung open. Narrowing your eyes as Brock walked in, you wondered if he could’ve been a good man in another life and fought for the people who needed it most the way he pretended to. This wasn’t that life though. He chose his side.

The wrong side.

“You know, I don’t get it,” he said, crossing his arms as he stood in the doorway. He didn’t hide the lust from his eyes as he looked you over. “I mean, the Asset does his job well, but it’s like he forgets all about being a soldier when he’s deep in your pussy.”

“What can I say? I guess my pussy’s just that good,” you sneered, not in the mood for his taunts or anything else.

“Is that right? Maybe he should fuck your ass next to get the stick out of it,” he snapped back. “Or are you too stuck up for that?”

Pierce had a range of prostitutes lined up to satisfy his soldiers, but Brock didn’t hide how pissed off he was that you were “given” to the Asset after that fateful training day. He claimed it was special treatment. He dropped the issue almost as quickly as it was brought up, which led you to believe he was either reprimanded or given something to shut him up.

“Is that what bothers you, Rumlow? That I'd rather fuck him than you?” You asked, tilting your head as you regarded him. “And just so we’re clear, I’ll never want you.”

Brock clenched his fists as he took a step forward. “You really are a fucking-”

“Let her be,” a melodic voice ordered behind him, making you stiffen as he moved out of the way.

The doctor, or Doc as most called him, stepped into the room with a kind smile on his face. Unassuming in stature, you knew better from the start than to judge him by appearance. The man was a snake in the grass ready to spread his venom to unsuspecting victims.

“How are you?” He asked.

You kept your eyes on him as he moved closer, doing your best not to show any emotion. The doctor somehow made you more uncomfortable than Rumlow and that said something. “How do you think I'm doing?”

“Hmm. Not well, I'm sure.”

“You guessed correctly,” you said.

You didn’t know why he bothered asking. Maybe he thought he was better than the others because he didn't physically hurt you. If anything, his indifference to the evil around him made it worse. It told you that he either justified or accepted it.

Either way, he disgusted you.

“Don't worry. You'll have the Soldat back soon and I’m sure you'll feel all better,” he assured you.

“You wiped him,” you reminded him, your voice cracking.

His screams echoed in your mind again, your heart aching as you tried to block it out. When pain knocked on the door, it didn't wait for an answer. It broke it down and made itself at home. But in the pain Hydra inflicted, the soldier found solace with you and you found the same with him. The light for each other within the darkness.

While you failed to protect him and couldn't stop what they did to his mind, you had to believe you’d help heal his soul once you had him back.

“We did indeed as we have many times.”

You knocked his hand away as he tried to place it on your shoulder, your stomach turning from his words. “Don't touch me.”

He held his hands up in surrender as he took a step back. “I mean no harm.”

“All of you mean harm,” you whispered.

The Soldat was your only bright spot in this nightmare. Ironic that he thought you were fire, bright and warm. The truth was you burned because of him. He was your eternal fuel that made the flames grow.

“I only want what is best for you,” Doc argued, his eyes void of any emotional depth behind his rimless glasses.

“Liar,” you whispered.

An exasperated sigh left his lips. “Now, now. I really do want what’s best for you. Don't you realize how important you are?”

“I'm not important,” you said. You never were. “Pierce made it clear that I don't have a purpose.”

But if that was the case, why were you still alive?

The doctor's chuckle made your blood run cold. “That's what he wants you to think. You see, the more they cut you down and make you question your worth, the easier it becomes for you to comply. Because by that point you’re so desperate for survival you'll do what is asked of you,” he explained, pushing his glasses up. “Yet you still only comply to an extent. It’s rather fascinating.”

He stared at you like you were a bug under a magnifying glass. And wasn’t that what you were to him? An experiment or something for him to study? “I haven't complied. I won't.”

“Oh, but you have,” Brock chimed in. You almost forgot he was still in the room. “Those missions you completed. The lives you took.”

Bile rose in your throat as images of violence and blood flashed in your mind. They would haunt you for the rest of your days. “No, I didn't want to hurt anyone.”

“Of course, you didn't. It’s as I said: desperation. You did what you had to do to survive,” the false sympathy from Doc grated on your nerves. “Don't let the weight of those souls wear you down. They were meaningless. But you? Oh, you are meant for more.”

He attempted to touch you again, but his hand moved toward your stomach this time instead of your shoulder. “I said don't touch me!” you snapped, scrambling backward to put distance between the two of you. As much as you wanted to hurt him, Brock was still there and could do a lot of damage.

The doctor pressed his lips together before he smirked. “Pierce and Rumlow are right. You have a hold on him. Even with his programming and orders, it all comes back to you,” he said, your body going rigid. Where was he going with this? “And it’s you that we want to carry his child.”

Your stomach churned again, but you weren’t sure if it was more at the thought that he wanted to force a child on you or that he’d try and force your soldier to impregnate you. “Care to repeat that?”

“You’re going to carry his child. You’re going to give birth to the perfect soldier. And you’ll keep doing so,” he said slowly like you were a petulant child, standing tall and proud as your mouth fell open in horror. “You’re the perfect incubator.”

Your stomach sank as you looked between him and Brock, wishing it was a sick joke. “No, I won't.”

“You think you have a choice?” The doctor questioned nonchalantly, like he was asking what you wanted for dinner. “And do you think the Asset needs to remember exactly what you mean to him to fuck you? I guess we'll see if he does. Science versus instinct.”

The room became eerily silent as the doctor gave you his first genuine smile since he walked in. You struggled to get your bearings and process the words. That was why you were still alive. They were going to make you an incubator. Force your soldier to breed you. They would take another choice away from him. And raise your children in captivity.

In Hell on earth.

“Well, that shut the bitch up,” Brock chuckled.

Before you could think, you launched yourself from the bed. The doctor’s eyes widened as you tackled him to the ground, unable to brace himself as you landed the first blow to his face. You straddled his waist, the second hit knocking his glasses away as fury rushed through your veins like a wildfire. He didn’t try to fight you off.

You could’ve cried. Screamed. Anything to keep him from making his twisted plan a reality.

The sound of a gun cocking stopped you from hitting Doc a third time.

“I won’t kill you,” Brock said, your fist frozen in the air as you looked toward him. Your chest heaved as you stared down the barrel of the gun. “But I’ll make it hurt if you don’t get up.”

“Go ahead,” you said through clenched teeth.

The doctor coughed, but held up a hand. “No shooting,” he croaked as you looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “No harming her.”

Brock’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. “She can still lie down and take a cock if-”

None of you could have foreseen the metal hand punching through the wall. Before you could blink, the hand closed around Brock’s shoulder and pulled him through, his cry of pain silenced almost immediately by the sound of a gunshot. The doctor beneath you was long forgotten as you scrambled to your feet just in time to see your soldier step into the room through the hole, his face obscured by his typical mask and goggles.

But you felt his gaze on you as he stood like a dark angel ready to avenge you.

Hope launched into your chest like a shooting star as you smiled. “Soldat,” you whispered.

He came for you. Found you. But the star that filled your heart quickly faded when he didn’t move toward you or say “Sparrow”.

The dread grew stronger when he holstered his gun and took out his signature knife.

Was this the beginning of the end?

The doctor smiled as he wiped the blood from his lap and slowly stood up. “You really think he’s here to save you? Oh, no. He just doesn’t want any competition near his breeding partner,” he taunted as your eyes stung. “Back from your assignment early, Soldat? Good. Now you can complete your mission.”

The Winter Soldier tilted his head before he took a step forward.

You remained rooted to the spot, casting your fear that he’d force himself on you aside. “Bucky,” you said, using the name you heard. His real name. A tear rolled down your cheek when he flinched and tightened his fingers around the handle. “I’m not going to fight you. Or hurt you. Do you know why?”

Another step forward, your heart pounded as you stood as still as a statue. “Why?” He asked, the word clear to you through his mask.

The tears flowed freely as he stopped in front of you and slipped his goggles off, your heart breaking when he dispassionately looked at you. “Because I’m your Sparrow. Remember? My fire burns for you and you only,” you told him and pointed to your chest. You needed him to remember. “We swore we’d be free together. Somehow.”

“Don’t listen to her. Breed her and be done with it,” the doctor ordered.

The soldier’s brows furrowed before his metal hand came up around your neck, not squeezing or bringing you any harm.

But it felt like a warning.

“You won’t hurt me,” you breathed out, placing your hand on his arm as you kept your panic at bay. “They won’t break me. And I won’t leave you,” you promised, echoing his words when he took you the first time. “I’m yours.”

No matter what they forced him to do to you, he would never be to blame.

The doctor had the gall to smack the flesh arm when he made no move to shove you down on the bed or remove your clothes. “Finish your mission. Now.”

“It’s okay,” you mouthed.

Somehow, it would be okay.

“My mission…” the soldier began mechanically, not taking his eyes off you as he plunged the knife into the doctor’s jugular. You weren’t sure you could breathe. “Is to keep my Sparrow safe.”

An intake of air caught your sob as the metal hand fell away, the doctor collapsing as he tried in vain to stop the blood from leaving his body. It was useless. And a kinder death than he deserved.

“Hail,” he gurgled, his fingers stained red. “Hydra.”

“Just shut up and die,” you snapped as your soldier ripped his mask off. “Soldat,” you said, softer, almost crying all over again.

“Sparrow,” he whispered.

There was nothing gentle or sweet in the way pressed his lips to yours, but it was warm and safe as he pulled you against you. Your arms slipped around him as you returned the kiss, your cheeks still wet from crying. For a second there, you thought you’d lost him. For once, fate decided not to be cruel to you.

It brought you back together.

“I’m sorry I couldn't get to you sooner,” he said when he allowed you a moment to breathe, quickly scanning as much of you as he could. “Did they hurt you?”

“No, I’m okay. I just thought…” you trailed off with a shake of your head. “You came back to me.”

But how?

“I’ll always find you, Sparrow,” he said, touching your cheek as your heart swelled. “Steve helped me remember a lot of things. Including you.”

“The man on the bridge? You saw him again?” You asked before an alarm sounded, the blaring force echoing in the room.

“Yes. And his friend is sending reinforcements, so we need to go,” he said over the noise, nudging the doctor’s body with the toe of his boot before he stepped on his glasses.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

Where could you go since you no longer had a home? You had so many questions, but understood that you’d have to wait for answers. Getting out of there in one piece was your priority.

“Somewhere safe,” he answered, fear flickering in his eyes for a moment. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” you promised without hesitation. And anything else you had to offer him.

The next kiss was one of gentleness, relief, and thanks. “One thing before we leave.”

“What’s that?” You asked as he took your hand.

Love and determination filled his eyes as he glanced back at you and put a gun in your other hand. “We burn it down.”

You could hardly contain the fire inside you as you smiled. “Together.”

You didn’t know what the reinforcements would do or what would await you once you got out. It didn’t matter. Your soldier found his way back to you and you would follow wherever he went. The two of you would finally leave Hydra behind.

In a pile of rubble and ash.

But you’d find out soon enough that the man on the bridge wouldn't let your soldier go either.

I'll try not to let so much time pass before the next update. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

1K notes · View notes

tiramissyoucake · 1 year ago

Note

Not super descriptive, im afraid, but I enjoyed your last Gdorf fic and was hoping to request another :3 with gender neutral pronouns and terms if that's alright🙏

Something along the lines of him making you ride him/grind against his knee while he sits on the throne, with some good old-fashioned degradation, along with throwing in some praise here and there. Most ideally, OOT or TP Ganondorf in mind! But that's all up to you, I'm not picky.

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI, reader is his loyal attendant here- pre-marriage even? GN so very vague genitalia description. 1k words semi proof read.

CW: NSFW, thigh-riding, use of 'slut', 'whore' Ganondorf being mean but he still loves reader, reader doesnt get to nut yet.

notes: finally.. an excuse to write more for him, thanks for ur request !! he has muscular thighs in all versions so technically all versions work. this is called thigh-riding, right? for some reason it doesn't do it for me but anything Ganondorf related is good. NEW DIVIDER DEBUT tell me how ya'll like it.

Your job was simple, answer when called and obey commands. Ganondorf was a no-nonsense man, so you ensured everything was perfect, your appearance, your work, your posture and speech.

Today was quiet, Ganondorf called for you from the throne room. Your steps were consistently quick- urgently responding to his call while keeping a dignified image. You automatically lowered your head reaching him, he stood near the throne, approaching you, a smile stretching across his strong features; your obedience was always a welcome sight.

“Raise your head, my loyal attendant.” His voice was carried across the room, you followed his order, looking at your king as your hands subtly smoothed down your uniform, the one he insisted you wear.

“I apologize for making you wait, my king. I was tending to the archives.” You explained as smoothly as you could, his eyes followed your every movement, it always made a shiver shoot up your spine. (one you learned to suppress)

“Do you tire of these journeys?” He started, velvet voice coaxing you to drop the formalities for a moment, you always had to look up when talking to him; though you assumed anyone would if they weren’t a tall specimen of the Goron or Zora.

Your confused glance made him continue. “You have many tasks to complete in my palace, you’re only close to me when it’s my chambers or this very throne room.” He settled down onto his rightful throne, one hand clutching the armrest while the other propped his head up to look at you properly. “We should assign you a seat here, shouldn’t we?”

Your first answer was no, where would it go? Next to the throne? That was a position for someone like the king’s spouse; you were just an attendant. He did not wait for an answer and simply patted his thigh. “Come here.”

He anticipated your hesitance, you stood in front of him, and he maneuvered you easily in his hands to sit on his muscular thigh, the sudden movement almost caused you to fall completely on him. Your hand firmly rested on his shoulder and bicep. it was… shockingly comfortable. Most of his armor was focused on his chest so his legs were mostly just clothed.

“Relax, when have I ever harmed you?” Ganondorf carefully tugged you closer, feeling how snug you were against him he couldn’t help a chuckle from emanating, the closeness made you blush. “Do I strike fear into your heart, my little attendant?”

He didn’t mind your secure grasp on him as he tugged you closer, the movement and pressure making you gasp before you could answer, his height, his size, everything overwhelmed you as he gently moved you back and forth. His voice lowered as he leaned closer to you. “Isn’t this what you deserve? The perfect seat for my one and only obedient attendant...” his tone was oddly sweet, the low volume making his voice carry more vibration and gruffness than it already did.

Your lips were parted, you knew you’d be a fool to object to your king’s affections, but should you be seen like this? In such a debauched way in front of the man you devoted your existence to? “But... someone might see us- sir...!”

Ganondorf laughed, deep and rich as he held your hips firmly, he could feel you begin to struggle against his planted hands holding you in place, he knew you wouldn’t disappoint him. “No one would step foot in here unless I command it.”

That assured you a bit, but he pressed on. “Do you think me cruel enough to let you be seen in such a manner? By anyone except me? flushed and panting on my thigh like a shameless slut…” you knew he was possessive, but never over you. you could barely focus over the building pleasure between your legs, you mentally curse the underlayer of your uniform, the cloth clung to your skin and yet you could feel everything and it was hard to keep your composure in your king's hands like this.

You glanced at him pleadingly, he cooed at you almost mockingly as his hands loosened, allowing you to set your own pace. “… should I let you be seen like this?” You had to look away, the idea was shameful, but you felt even more guilt at the arousal pooling within.

“Perhaps I should place you on my thigh like this when I work? I’d enjoy looking at a writhing little slut like you as I finish my tasks…” he chuckled darkly as you moved your hips less subtly now, hands clinging to whatever fabric peeked out from beneath his armor.

“P-please, my king…” you whimpered, it was pathetically amusing yet arousing, Ganondorf held your jaw in his hand and forced you to look up at him, your hip movements slowed but hadn’t stopped, you couldn’t stop, not when the pressure of his thigh was against all the right places, pressing your buttons and getting you so close but it wasn’t enough; you needed him to touch you.

“Please what? You have the gall to make demands to your king? When you’re humping my thigh like a needy whore?” his hand clutched your hip tightly as he sat up, the pressure forcing a choked moan out of you as your grip fastened onto him for stability. “What’s the matter? Is this too much for you?”

He moved you harshly once more, the friction shooting at your senses so quickly you couldn’t reply unless it was a lewd request for him to ruin you. he laughed, kissing your neck, it would have been a sweet gesture had it not been for his hands guiding your frantic riding back and forth.

You were always so obedient, always sacrificing anything for his pleasure and approval, seeing you chase your release so greedily. It was a sight to behold; you were always the quiet little attendant, seeing this side of you only made his desire for you triple, he could barely hold himself back.

He stopped you by grounding you down onto him, enough to stop you but not enough to hurt you. He sat up properly once more, leaning down to speak into your ear. “Enough. you’ve shown me just how much of a good attendant you can be…”

Disappointment and guilt racked your being, was this some sort of test that you failed? Had you disappointed him? Your questions were stopped as he manhandled you once more, carefully he picked you up and stood, his bulking strength made you feel like your weight was nothing as you were fitted snugly in his arms. “I was serious, you know; I won’t let you be seen like this by anyone but me... Now, be quiet until we reach my chambers.”

#your stars have aligned .•°✧✦✧#ganondorf x reader #Ganondorf Dragmire x reader #ganon x reader #loz x reader #legend of zelda x reader

151 notes · View notes

romana-after-dark · 7 months ago

Text

Marc Spector x Sucubus!Reader Ft. Khonshu

Join my taglist : Masterlist

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

My submission #1 for Dead Dove December! there is still plenty of time, so I hope I can see at one or more other Oscar isaac Submissions and maybe a logan submission! Also, I love every single of the Pedro submissions, you are all so amazing!!!

Summary: You are a sucubus, and tonight you've come to visit one of your favorite toys, Marc Spector. Tonight, however, you have a visitor...

Warnings: Sucubus reader so reader is DARK! This fic is DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! Marc is alseep the entire time so non con somno, Khonshu watches and is grossly possesive over/thinks he owns Marc's body. Dirty talk, general non con themes.

Moon Knight divider by @sister-lucifer

DDDNE dividers by @clawdee

Beta'd by @boredzillenial

1.3k words

A/N: This is my first writing Marc Spector in almost a year I think! Moon Knight for longer than that! I'm happy to see my baby again <3

He was really fucking pretty.

Maybe that’s why he was your favorite, maybe that’s why you came back to him again and again.

Marc Spector was your favorite to be sure, a young man still youthful, maybe around 25, and you’d been visiting him for maybe 2 years now. He was handsome, an absolute cutie with dark curls, tan skin and strong build. Even in his youth, he was built thickly, even if a bit short. Standing at 5’8. He wasn’t much shorter than global average, but he was definitely average height for Latino and Sephardic men.

But his cock… god, that’s one of his biggest draws. Sure the rest was fantastic; Marc was absolutely flawless, a sleeping beauty below you, but it was his cock stuffed inside you that brought you to ecstasy. The 9 inches was delightful, reaching deep inside your core so well you could feel him kiss your cervix at the right angle. But god, the thickness… the way he split you open, the way you felt so full as you sank down on his length, crammed up inside you as you cum hard around him, Marc’s eyes fluttering when he came inside you but never awakening.

Tonight was a little different, however. Tonight you had company.

Naked and dripping for him already, you grind your naked cunt over Marc’s grey sweat, getting him hard and aching. You could see his breathing increase with the rise and fall of his chest laid bare like he knew you were coming. Like he was whoring himself out for you, and you alone. But you weren’t alone, were you?

“Come to watch, have you?” You speak, not looking away from Marc’s slightly parted lips, but speaking to the being in the corner.

“I wasn’t aware you could see me, little one.”

You chuckle. You knew who he was, but he didn’t know you. Of course not. Succubi, while somewhat rare, were not unheard of and there was no reason for him to know you.

But you knew who he was.

“I can see all the Gods and beings of our realm, Khonshu” You smile as you turn to the man in his skeleton-bird form, grinding down hard on Marc’s bulge and humming in contentment.

He makes no sound, simply nodding. “And you’re a succubus, I am?”

“I am. This here,” You pat Marc’s chest. “Is my favorite toy. The question is, why are you here? Just came to watch? I won’t object.” You give him a teasing smirk, but see nothing in return.

“I am the owner of this body.”

Your eyebrows quirk up in surprise as you continue to dry hump Marc’s sleeping form. Was he mad you were using ‘his’ body? “Oh?”

“And I come to summon him, only to find a stranger using my avatar.”

Ah, an avatar. No wonder Marc was so lean, so muscled and strong. “And were you summoning him to use him like I am?”

He chuckles. “Hardly, although I can’t say it hasn’t crossed my mind. No, Marc is my knight. It seems you also have plans for him.”

“Ohhhh yesss, I do.” You’re approaching an orgasm, and you haven’t even taken out his cock yet. “So many plans… Khonshu… the question is, are you going to let me use your little toy?”

Khonshu cocks his head to the side. “Only if I get to watch.”

5 minutes later, Marc’s cock was drilling your insides as you bounced on him, hands planted firmly on his chest with Khonshu watching you. He remains clothed, rubbing himself slowly underneath his crisp pressed pants (he changed from his robes for the occasion, into a nice suit.).

“How’s the view?” You tease him, your cunt leaking from your first orgasm all around Marc's supple hips.

“Simply sublime.” Khonshu’s voice booms through the room.

“Me?” Leaning down, you kiss into Marc’s neck, taking a nibble before side-eyeing back to Khonshu in the corner. “Or him?”

“Both”

Marc lightly snored, and you look over to watch the sweet man’s nostrils flare, so unaware of what is happening, so unaware he’s being used a sex doll for one, and porn for another.

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” You’re pussy clenches around Marc’s cock as you bounce, enthralled by the inherent eroticism of it all, the treatment of Marc’s body as a thing to be rented out. You run your hands over his chest, feeling his warmth, his sweat, his tensing, aching body responding to you like the goodest good boy you’ve ever had the pleasure of defiling. “He feels so goddamn good, Khonshu.”

“How deep is he inside you?” He asks, still lazily leaning back but the touches over his clothed cock taking on a speedier edge.

“You can feel for yourself.”

Khonshu reiterates, his voice much firmer now. “How deep, little one?”

You place your hand on your stomach, right where you can feel him piercing your womb. “He’s so deep…” you whine, drenching Marc’s thighs with your slick. He deserved this, deserved to have his fat cock drained, balls emptied inside a beautiful woman. Too bad Marc would never be awake to see it.

But Khonshu is, and isn’t that the next best thing? The owner of the body, watching and getting off to his varlet being abused in his sleep. Well, you wouldn’t exactly call it abuse… Marc sure seemed to be enjoying it.

Little whimpers leave his lips, and when you reach back behind yourself, you can feel his balls tightening.

“He’s about to cum, Khonshu…” You bounce on him with renewed fervor, your stomach flipping at the thought of being filled again by his hot, sticky warmth. Fuck, he was splitting you open, your body impailed on the young man as his length is fed inside you. “Are you gonna cum? Are you gonna cum inside me?”

“Fuck yourself on my cock.” His voice was breathy, breaking down just a little, losing a modicum of self control. “Let me cum inside, let my vessel fill your womb with my seed.”

“FUCK!” Your orgasm is crashing, screaming, clawing and kicking out of you, your body shaking with delight and milking out Marc’s as he fills you up. Rope after rope, your fluids mix in an unholy matrimony, cum trickling down his legs as your cum overflows to stain his sheets. You can’t even lament what was lost, the virile young man continuing to claim you with his cum, with Khonshu's cum, and you can feel it where his cut tip kisses your womb.

And fuck, he looks so pretty like this.

His body, tight and lightly muscled, is tense, his mouth lightly parted as little moans escape his lips. His tits flex with the intensity, eyebrows knitted together as the final spurts fill your stomach, causing you to bulge. You’ve never felt him cum like this before, and you suspect the extra seed was Khonshu’s doing. As Marc’s hips stutter a final time, he sighs a little out of his lips, a name, not yours, whispered on his tongue.

“Layla…”

You don’t want to move. On top of Marc’s now-relaxed body, you enjoy feeling him so calm, so rested, so beautiful, even if he was thinking of some woman.

“He met a girl.” Khonshu stands. Any mess he made is gone, but you can tell by the light panting that the skeleton bird had cum too. “Kill her father a few years ago. She doesn’t know that yet, but it seems they’ve begun an affair of sorts. Doesn’t matter.” Khonshu says with resolve. “That will fall apart too, just like everything else in his life. He’ll soon learn I’m all he needs.”

You huff a laugh. Khonshu’s self importance was well known in the shadow realm, but this was none of your business. You were off to carry out your night, ready to knock some girl up with Marc’s cum. You give the young man a little kiss on the cheek.

“Until next time, Spector.”

Thank you so so so so much for reading!

I really hope you all enjoyed it, I wanted to explore Khonshu's possesive feelings towards the body. I explored this a little in Your Very Being which is Jake x khonshu and i feel takes place after this.

Again, thank you!

@steven-grants-world @del-ightfulling @iolaussharpe-24 @just-a-lovebot @madamerubrum @speaktothehandpeasants @and-claudia @autofillcontact675 @yeaiamme2 @miraclesabound @sub-aro @campingwiththecharmings @ivystoryweaver

#marc spector x reader #marc spector #marc spector smut #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight smut #khonshu watches #dark khonshu #khonshu smut #non con #dddne #dead dove december #deaddovedecember2024 #dark reader #marc spector x khonshu

140 notes · View notes

shroomie-23 · 2 months ago

Text

My take on the Titan army warfare system

Basically, because of the very little cannon we have on the titan army it’s anyone’s guess on how they conducted themselves[both in a military context and a general sense, this post is my own guess on how the army was structured and how I[as a fic writer] view it.

Before I start I would like to acknowledge that I am not either a pro-writer nor am I a historian, if I get something wrong just tell me. Also be aware I am HCing some of this, also that my entire reason for researching this is to create my own series that has its own cannon and focus–the whole reason I’m posting this is because the nature of my fic follows the percy jackson cannon through a TA perspective. So yes, there may be bias somewhere along the way.

First off, we have to take into consideration the bases of the titan army, which is both ancient Rome and ancient greece. Due to Greeks[both historical and mythos] not having much of a definite military[mostly consisting of citizens of different polises depending on what time-period we’re looking at], I took the most inspiration from the roman army. I’m also taking a inspiration from jflashandcrash on Ao3.

We also have to estimate the actual titan army demigod population as well, which for here I am using a 200-150 person scale. This is because the army had to deal with both camp half-blood[20-70 fighters] and camp Jupiter[50-200 fighters] alongside the monster TA population[which from here on out I’m not mentioning].

We also have to assume Kronos has been planning/recruiting/gaining funding for the army for over 3 years[from at least when Luke went on the quest].

So what I’m thinking is having the titan army divided into 5 cohorts[each having about 40-25 fighters]. Keep in mind the army would likely use different titles then the roman titles, so these names are only really stand ins for what you would think they would be called.

The first cohort contains our leaders, prophets, witches, head healers, and metalworkers. as well as a few of the more powerful demigods and the half-bloods that had joined before even Luke was recruited or at least before the war started as foot soldiers.

The rest of the four cohorts will have a more standard structure, being led by 2 centrons, and containing at least 2 healers[doesn’t have to be medically inclined half-bloods], and 2 messengers/scouts, the rest will be normal warriors and foot soldiers. This structure means each centron/healer is only responsible for at most 20 demigods under them, and having two messengers means that if one is taken out the other one is still on-route.

The real major battles between the camp half-blood army and the titan army are really only 2[counting battle of manhattan and battle of the labyrinth, not counting the battle of orthys in ttc]. Due to this we can assume that there is only ever 1 or 1.5 cohorts responsible for keeping chb in line at a time[not including cohort one which has eyes on everything at all times], which leaves the rest of the army dealing with camp Jupiter.

Besides that the only hard part of writing in a Titan army setting is organizing all the original characters, I’m doing this through a slowly progressing T-chart[idea from @mediumgayitalian], which I’m going to submit a screenshot of here so you can get an idea of what I’m talking about. Not going to lie, this is also just so I can show off my oc’s lol, anything that’s blotted out is due to it being important to my previously mentioned fic’s plot.

After that I’ll link some sources I used.

https://archiveofourown.org/users/jflashandcrash/pseuds/jflashandcrash

#fanfic #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #pjo #titan army #luke castellan #alabaster c torrington #ethan nakamura

45 notes · View notes

jordosprout · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I have a fic idea where the reader has a sensory meltdown and even though the others try to help they don't really know what to do but then Tech comes in with all the know-how on how to approach/help.

Maybe it could be taking place during the race Tech did and the reader gets overwhelmed by the sound and the heat and anxiety and Tech comes in for the rescue after the race ends, or maybe on a mission and Hunter asks Tech to take you aside/back to the marauder and tells him that they have it handled.

I think it'd be cool if Tech silently brought out sensory items and waited patiently with you and then opens up about how he has the same issue but maybe he usually shuts down instead or has a meltdown alone. Sorry I had a few ideas I wanted to share, hope this ask isn't too overwhelming! <3

Alright, took me awhile but I finished your request! I ended up going with the race plot :) I apologize for the wait. I wanted to do my best to portray everything correctly.

Sprouting Within the Soul

Tech x GN!Reader SFW Comfort Fic (gender-neutral pronouns used, little physical description.) (Can be read as platonic)

Reader is a phytotoxin specialist and becomes a clone medic. Story takes place on Safa Toma where Tech comforts them during an autistic meltdown.

Warnings: Talk of overstimulation, stimming, meltdowns, and gentle praise.

Notes: Phytotoxin- plant poison. I'm still getting used to Tumblr so no fancy dividers yet :,) I am working on making some for personal use

WC: 3,955

Setting up readers' story, skip if wanted!

You didn’t enjoy medicine as much as you did vegetation. But the two interests mixed into a love for phytotoxin, and you found yourself as a specialist clone medic 2 months before you fled with Omega; working alongside her during that time. You grew deeply attached to the special little clone; knowing nothing could separate you.

She told you everything she could about the Clone Force 99; from their names all the way to their genetic mutations. And during one of those one-sided conversations, she told you about the inhibitor chips. This is what sparked your questions about the clones true purpose.

Your interactions with the boys themselves were brief. However, that would suddenly change.

Omega told you that she felt that Kamino was in danger, and you believed her immediately. It didn’t matter what it was that made her feel that way. You trusted Omega, and the thought of not knowing if she was safe scared you. You accompanied her, and her brothers, off-world; not a second guess in your mind.

Leaving the life you came accustomed to was hard. Especially when you were being so abruptly transitioned to a chaotic one. But the others, especially her brother Tech, did their best to ease you into the new life.

With Hunter and Echo being off on their own mission, it was just you Wrecker, Omega, and Tech today. A day you'd absorb every calm second you were given.

You were sitting beside Tech at the bar, him looking into poisonous plants for you.

You noticed that when he found out about your love for the subject, he took it personally. He took every moment he could to talk to you about the various flora of the universe. It wasn't a rare occurrence for him to share something you already knew. But that never mattered or annoyed you. You were just happy someone took part in your interests. Sometimes, he would tell you something that you surprisingly knew nothing of. Others, he would mention something you knew plenty about and you’d talk to him about it for hours.

It felt good having someone to talk to (or at) that clearly enjoyed it.

Just as he would offer you his ear, you would offer him yours. Always listening and enjoying whatever facts he had on his current interests. His passion for the things he knew made them all the more interesting. His voice and excitement would never get old to you.

Even though you felt seen by Tech, you still had moments of worrying you said something wrong. He never gave you a reason to think that you may have offended him, but you couldn’t help the anxiety. So you would often overexplain your intentions. He allowed you to say what you felt you needed to in order clear your intentions, and would then follow up in calm reassurance. He was always a source of calm patient energy, something you never got enough of.

But your day was swiftly stolen by a green Trandoshen. Cid, of course, had a last-minute mission for the four of you. You huffed to yourself, you just got comfortable watching Omega and Wrecker’s Mantell-Mix bet!

You were tracing circles with your finger on the countertop; cheek resting on its cool surface. Omega and Wrecker were playing Dejarik. Hearing them laugh and get competitive with each other made you smile.

“Hey I heard that! Don't get sassy with me Bacta Bunny. I have a mission for you and you're taking it!”

You scowled at the nickname, your reaction being noticed only by Omega, who looked at you briefly before looking at Cid. You found the nickname demeaning- as if all you were was the occasional medic the batch needed.

“Hunter and Echo aren't back from the other mission yet.” Omega told Cid, confused as to why they would do something without them.

“I would not call transporting 50 cases of nerf nuggets a ‘mission’. Nor is it a proper use of our skill set,” Tech added to Omega’s statement.

You rested your head into the palm of your hand, leaning into it, “Tech isn't wrong Cid. You're wasting what ya’ got. There are better uses of our skill y’know.”

“Yeah, well, your skill set will come in real useful on this one. Especially you, Muscles. You're gonna be my security crew.”

Your head lifted at that, “Hey now security for what? What did you do that requires security?”

Tech nodded in agreement, “We will require a more detailed briefing than that.”

“No time. The shuttle's waiting.” Cid dodged, already at the door. You disliked how secretive Cid was. Why couldn't she just tell you what you needed to know?

Wrecker tossed Omega her little helmet, and of course, Omega gave you all her usual wishful thinking.

“Maybe it'll be fun.”

“Heh, works for me.”

“Wrecker, you're saying that as if you're difficult to convince,” you bantered teasingly, you loved the big guy but you weren't wrong. He was easy to convince. He just grinned and gave you a mix of a laugh and grunt before following Omega.

You sat for a moment, wishing you could easily adapt the same way Wrecker and Omega did. But you couldn't help but feel anxious with the sudden change to your schedule.

Tech sighed and you gave him a small pat on the shoulder before jumping off your barstool.

It shouldn't be all that bad, should it?

As soon as your shuttle landed, you were met with muffled crowds and people.

‘Just a little noise. I can handle this’

“I am beginning to understand the need for added security in a place like this.” Tech mentioned to the group, taking in the nature of the people around him.

“Safa Toma can be a little rough around the edges if you don't know what you're doing. But lucky for us I know my way around. And if things get dicey, that's where you come in.”

You looked at the back of Omega’s head once Cid said that last sentence. You weren't particularly fond of how much danger she was constantly in. Yes, she's a clone like her brothers. And clones were indeed made to fight. But she's only a kid and is already dealing with so much. You placed your left hand on her right shoulder, and she gave you two pats in response. Something she always did to let you know she'd be fine.

But once you exited the building, and were blasted with Safa Toma’s boiling sun and restless crowds, you felt like you were the one who might not be fine. You took a deep breath to ground yourself, but the air dried out your nose making you more uncomfortable.

‘This shouldn't be a long mission. It's just security.’

The cheering got louder as you became surrounded by people, constantly getting bumped into. The machines on what appeared to be a race track flashed by directly in front of you, any loose hair you had whipped in the direction they flew towards; tickling your skin.

You stayed behind Omega and held your hands together, rubbing the flesh between your left hand’s pointer and thumb to soothe yourself.

“Whoa!” Omega was leaning on the rail, trying to take in everything happening on the track.

“It's called Riot Racing.” Cid said, clearly only talking to Omega.

One of the racers began shooting at an opponent ahead of it, resulting in the victim crashing into one of the walls.

“Wow! Did you see that?” Wrecker excitedly asked Omega. You glanced at Tech whose eyes were wide behind his goggles.

‘Well if Omega didn't Tech definitely did.’

“It appears anything goes out there.”

The PA system announcer began narrating the scene in front of all of you. Declaring the steal of the lead, that was apparently carried out by Cid’s racer.

You blindly followed Cid and the others after TAY-0’s win, falling slightly behind. You fixated on your hands, attempting to tune out the obnoxious droid in front of you. Any other day his quips would pull a small laugh from you. But the sun felt like it was getting hotter, and the crowd seemed louder and fuller. You didn't understand how Omega was handling it so well, she didn't have the climate-controlled armor her brothers did.

‘If Omega can handle it then why can't I?’

“Your ringer is a droid?” Tech queried Cid, getting what would barely count as a real answer from the droid instead.

“Oh, I'm so sorry. You have a problem with droids, human? You think you can make the split-second calculation to win out there? You want to challenge TAY-0?” the droid asked, defensively getting up in Tech's face. And of course, Tech gave little to no physical reaction.

“I do not have enough information about this sport to determine that at this time.”

“Then take a seat, spectacled spectator.”

Okay, you held in a snort with that one. That was really clever.

Wrecker on the other hand was quite upfront with his reaction, repeating TAY-0 and bumping Tech.

You sat against a wall as repairs were made to the droid's speeder. You chose to ignore what was going on for the time being. You weren't needed at the moment, so you should take advantage of that. You closed your eyes and pressed into the wall, trying to grasp all the peace you were given.

Which wasn't much apparently.

A large man found his way into the pit, three smaller men behind him. You stood after he greeted Cid, his tone making you realize he was the reason she needed security. And when he approached Omega you quickly made your way behind her next to Wrecker; all of your hands making their way to your designated blasters.

“Not gonna introduce me to your new crew?”

‘Why’s that matter to him?’

He gave a hearty laugh, “They're not gonna help you win.”

Cid stood up to Millegi, looking much shorter than she already did in front of him.

“Oh, I know I'm gonna win.”

After a few seconds of intimidation from Millegi, he offered a bet. It was frustrating how quickly Cid agreed. Of course, she'd take any chance she could to make some credits.

You spaced out for a moment before Cid insisted on hurrying up with the minor repairs. She was going to be much pushier now that credits were on the line.

You paced behind the others, feeling restless now being back at the track. You looked up only for a moment when Wrecker returned, then back to the ground. You could feel your patience for today running low. You were rather surprised to hear Tech say he didn't know who'd win. But you knew he'd figure it out eventually, he always does.

But when TAY-0 took damage, and Millegi’s racer won the round, you knew Millegi wouldn't be far.

So you rushed to help collect the pieces of TAY-0 from the track and held your guard for when he'd eventually show up.

And he did, of course, with Cid not having any credits to give him.

“Wanna step in here? I didn't bring you three for the company.”

And with your cue, you put on your helmet and hovered a hand over your blaster. Millegi's men were quick to point their own at you. Of course, Omega spoke up, “Wait how much does she owe?”

“More than you got, kid.”

“Well,” she paused for a moment, “we're not done yet.”

“Omega…” you whispered, “Don't. Stand down.”

“That's right. Looks like you're done to me.”

“One last race. If you win, we pay you double.”

You groaned into your helmet and shared looks between Tech and Wrecker. This could either go really well or really bad.

“If we win, we get Cid.”

“You don't know what you're getting into, kid.”

You followed in suit with the boys, Tech speaking up first, “I'm inclined to agree with him, Omega.”

“Yeah, I'm inclined too. We don't know anything about racing” Wrecker added, not at all slick about the confession.

“Omega this can very easily end very badly.” You told her worriedly

“They're gonna hurt Cid if we do nothing.”

You breathed in deeply through your nose. Omega was not one to lose determination. And you all knew that. You crossed your arms and stood behind her. If this is what she really wants to do, then you'll just have to stand with her.

“So we have a deal?”

“We race tomorrow. And I keep Cid as collateral.”

As his men collected Cid, Millegi gave a warning, “For your sakes, you better be able to pay up.”

You looked down at Omega, “I suppose that went well?”

After Omega spent some time on the speeder, you offered to take her place to get a break. She nodded and jumped down from the table, you taking her place.

“Do we really need to fix him right away? He isn't exactly pleasant company,” you joked slightly.

“Well, he is already partially operational. So it is a bit late now. Speaking of, with a few more adjustments, he may be capable of racing.”

TAY-0 was basically summoned by your conversation, “Uh, that is hilarious. I am more than capable. I am ready to– Where are my arms and legs!?” You laughed to yourself and looked up to finish the repairs that were left on the speeder. TAY-0 was entertaining, but he's also just… a lot.

Wrecker came into the pit and dropped off the rest of TAY-0's parts.

“No, that's not how you connect the servo. Let TAY-0 instruct you how to do this properly.”

You grinned at Tech’s response. What can you say? You enjoyed his sass.

Nightfall came, and Safa Toma was finally quieter and cooler. But you still felt uneasy. All day has been dealing with people and TAY-0, and now you have to sleep in the pit. You tossed in your sleeping bag, Wrecker and Omega already sleeping beside each other. You covered your eyes with your forearm, hoping the pressure would help you sleep.

You lifted it though when you heard rustling beside you.

“Hey Tech, finished working on TAY-0?”

“Yes, he is fully operational for tomorrow's race.”

You nodded and yawned before turning on your side. The ground was hard and the sleeping bag didn’t help as much as it should.

“Problem?” Tech asked, now behind you.

“Oh, no Tech I’m alright. Just been a long day and I didn’t realize how long we would be here for. But I’m alright.”

He shuffled, likely laying down himself. You knew he could sleep just about anywhere, and honestly, it’s a skill you were a bit jealous of.

“I understand. I am not a fan of sudden plans myself, let alone ones with little explanation. I may be used to dealing with them, but they are still difficult.”

You smiled to yourself. “I’m sure we won’t be here too long.”

“Hopefully not”

You wished Cid would have prepared you for where you would be in some way. It felt like you were being cooked underneath your gear and it was miserable. Even when you stayed behind in the pit, there was still all of the noise and the fact you were somewhere completely new with no way to get away.

Two days in a row of dry heat. Two days of screaming. Two days of an obnoxious amount of people and tense interactions. And it was getting to you. Normally it wouldn’t bother you, or at the very least if it did you’d be able to get away from everything. But not being able to escape made it feel like you were suffocating. And as Omega and Wrecker cheered along with the crowd, you slipped away to find quiet.

It proved to be a harder task than you thought it would be, that in itself made you feel worse. But after struggling to find a place to rest, you gave up and decided a place with no people would be enough. You couldn’t help tearing off your helmet and gear, slamming it to the ground as you took your frustrations out on it. You slumped against the first sturdy object you found. The shade was minimal, but it was there. At least you were alone.

After a few minutes, you faintly heard Tech’s name being chanted. And after 5 more standard minutes went by, your comlink beeped. You ignored it, only for it to beep again. And when it did, you tore it off and threw it as far as you could. You couldn’t stand the noise. Or any noise at this point of your mental state.

You covered your ears and held your eyes shut, blocking out as much as you could.

Tech was surprised when he exited his speeder and you weren’t with Wrecker or Omega. And when he asked about your whereabouts, they were surprised too, worrying him even more.

“They were behind me!” Worry and defensiveness laced Wrecker’s tone. They both knew that Safa Toma wasn’t a safe planet for someone to go off by themselves. And after Tech commed you twice with no response, he was definitely certain something wasn’t right.

“I will be back, I am going to track the com signal and check in.”

“I wanna come too!” Omega pleaded with Tech, but he shook his head.

“Negative. We do not know the situation. If assistance is required, then you will be notified.”

Omega didn’t like the idea of not going with, but listened anyway. Wrecker keeping her occupied until Cid and Millegi showed up.

Following your com signal, he eventually found you. He was relieved to see you were safe.

“Ah there you are.” You didn’t respond. At first Tech thought you just didn’t hear him, so he tried again.

“Problem?”

You said nothing, instead shifting where you sat. He said it again. But again, there was nothing. He approached.

He saw all of your gear strewn about on the ground around you. Then took a moment to study your body language. Your hands were over your ears, and your eyes were tightly shut. You made yourself small where you sat.

‘Oh’

He looked around to try and see what he could do to change your surroundings, but when he couldn’t find anything he chose to sit beside you. Your eyes were still squeezed shut, moisture at their corners as you snapped your fingers. Your body couldn’t decide between refusing stimuli or letting it out. He remembered the one-time use earplugs he kept on him for Hunter (or for himself), taking them out of a pocket and placing them next to you.

“Here,” he said softly, only saying what was necessary.

You grabbed them and placed them in your ears, taking in a shaky breath. You brought your knees to your face and pressed them into your eyes. Your hands were free to move about however they needed to.

He chose that simply offering his presence until you expressed you needed him would be best. He knew that sometimes interacting with others during a meltdown was hard. At least, it was for him. He grabbed his data pad from one of his many pockets to occupy himself while he gave you time. He would be there when you were ready, no matter how long that might be. It would be a few minutes before you said anything or acknowledged him in any way.

“Did you win?”

He looked up at you, your cheek resting on your knee as you looked in the opposite direction of Tech. Your sudden break of silence caught him off guard.

“Of course, was there any doubt?” He asked back. You shook your head no and smiled to yourself before frowning again.

“Can you hug me?” you asked him quietly. He hummed in confirmation before lifting the arm closest to you. Turning around and seeing his arm open for you, you leaned into his side. He squeezed you gently, giving you the pressure you needed in that moment.

You sat together, Tech finding his own comfort from the stress of the past two days with you. He rubbed your arm with his thumb before finding a strand of your hair to twist in his fingers. Breaking the silence when he felt you were ready.

“Why did you not say you were overstimulated?”

You rubbed the flesh between your thumb and finger, “I… I don’t know. I was embarrassed. Everyone else seemed fine and I was- am frustrated that I’m not. It bothers me.”

He looked down at you quizzically, “Why would you be embarrassed? It is completely normal to have different needs. Even clones are different from each other, in one way or another. It is expected.” He told you.

“I know that but it doesn’t feel like the kind of ‘different’ that just makes someone unique I guess. I feel weak, but I know I need to be strong for everybody.”

Tech was quiet for a moment to figure out the right thing to say. He knows how you’re feeling. He’s felt the same way. He took in a deep breath before he spoke, “Being autistic does not make you weak. The way you receive and process information in your brain is different. It is okay to allow yourself time for it to do that. I promise, it is okay to have these needs. I have them too.”

“You do?”

“I do. While I do not have meltdowns often, I frequently have shutdowns. That does not make me a less efficient soldier. Genetically modifying me to be autistic was not an accident. There are desirable traits in autistic people. For example, I have exceptional attention to detail. I have a strong memory that allows me to retain important information. I am loyal. Of course there is more. But I do not wish to come across as egotistical.”

You sat there with Tech’s words. You never thought about the fact that, perhaps, nothing was wrong with you. Just different. You looked up, looking just past Tech’s eyes but flicking to them slightly before asking, “What is there that is good about me?”

He quirked his usual half-smile and looked up into the sky, “For starters, you are empathetic, more so than some. While I am sure this may be difficult for you at times, it allows you to be more compassionate. You are honest and direct, making your transition into our force easier as you are too honest to be distrusted. You are passionate and determined. No matter how many times you fall, you get up and try a new approach. You are not only passionate with things, but with people. You have spent much time learning what our crew members like and dislike, and act accordingly. You are deeply passionate in your relationships and I admire that about you. I could continue if you would like.”

You shook your head, cheeks slightly warm at the praise you asked for.

You found yourself leaning deeper into Tech and he welcomed you. You loved that you were able to find comfort in the exceptional clone beside you. It felt good not having to be alone, and being not only understood but accepted. His armor cooled you but his presence warmed you to your core.

“Thank you Tech I-...I think I’m ready to go now.” You told him shifting away slightly to prep yourself to get up. He nodded and stood, offering a hand to help you to your feet. You smiled up at him softly, feeling something in your soul sprouting in his light.

#tbb tech #clone force 99 #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #tbb wrecker #omega bad batch #tbb comfort #tech fluff #tech x reader #tech tbb #tech comfort #this took too long and i am moderately embarrassed #why is embarrassed spelled like that #oh god its 6:23 am i need to sleep #happy reading!!!!!!!!!!!!#autistic tech #autistic reader

116 notes · View notes

amethystandemma · 8 months ago

Text

Welcome to chaos!

My last introduction post is like a year old, so here we go.

AmethystandEmma’s Intro

Hi everyone! I’m Emma. I’m 20 years old, autistic, and a Christian. Plus a bunch of other stuff, but those are my main three things.

My username is AmethystandEmma because Amethyst, Princess of Gemworld is one of my favorite superheroes!

I’ve been writing fics since sixth grade, so about eight years now? I’ve recently gotten into drawing as well.

My main fandoms are currently DC Comics, Marvel Comics, Harry Potter, Hogwarts Legacy, and Fantastic Beasts. They are subject to change though, so keep that in mind.

As of October of 2024, I have become less active on all social media sites. I was feeling extremely stressed and social media was part of the reason.

I’m fine with minors being on here. I remember how lonely I felt without fandoms. It’s important to be able to connect.

It literally makes my day when people comment on my stuff or share it.

If you have any questions or just wanna chat, give me a DM or ask!

Pfp and header is Oliver Wood and Radiant Glasspetal (Glasswood) by giselsann.

Second and third account: @glasswoodonthebrain, @its-ur-move

Side blog for Dark Universe: @glasswood-but-make-it-darkmoor

Character ask blogs: @yesimradiant and @goldengirlvic

Discord Server

Reading list

Alphabet one-shots requests

Now, for my content (under the cut).

Fanfics!

Young Love (Sebastian Sallow x Althea Moonlace) [COMPLETE]

Part 1

The Funeral of Anne Sallow [COMPLETE]

Part 1

Boggarts (Newt Scamander x Evangeline Sallow) [COMPLETE]

Part 1

Proposal Gone Wrong (Newt Scamander x Evangeline Sallow) [COMPLETE]

Part 1 -> Part 2

The Raven Meets the Auror (Theseus Scamander x Ashma Fahlstrom) [COMPLETE]

Part 1

Coffee (Theseus Scamander x Ashma Fahlstrom) [COMPLETE]

Part 1

@light-of-the-room’s gift (Evangeline Sallow) [COMPLETE]

Part 1

Blood of Innocents (Percy Weasley & Victoria Macmillan) [ONGOING]

Hadlee Euphoric meets Cedric Diggory (Cedric Diggory x Hadlee Euphoric) [COMPLETE]

Part 1

Meeting on the Pitch (Oliver Wood x Radiant Glasspetal) [COMPLETE]

Part 1

Radiant Glasspetal and the First Quidditch Match (Oliver Wood x Radiant Glasspetal) [COMPLETE]

Part 1 -> Part 2

A Lesson in Quidditch (Oliver Wood x Radiant Glasspetal) [COMPLETE]

Part 1

Percy’s Right Hook (Percy Weasley x Victoria Macmillan) [COMPLETE]

Part 1

Amortentia (Oliver Wood) [COMPLETE]

Part 1

No Making Out on the Quidditch Pitch! (Oliver Wood x Radiant Glasspetal) [COMPLETE]

Part 1

Times Are Changing (Oliver Wood x Radiant Glasspetal) [COMPLETE]

Part 1

Proper Young Lady (Radiant Glasspetal) [COMPLETE]

Part 1

Sister Knows Best (Victoria Macmillan and Ernie Macmillan)

Part 1

Visitor in the Night (Victoria Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley)

Part 1

The Dance (Oliver Wood x Radiant Glasspetal) [COMPLETE]

Part 1

Reconciliation (Percy Weasley x Victoria Macmillan) [COMPLETE]

Part 1

Reunion (Percy Weasley x Victoria Macmillan) [COMPLETE]

Part 1

Fishing (Percy Weasley x Victoria Macmillan) [COMPLETE]

Part 1

Rise of the Blue Comet (Dick Grayson x Aqua Charming) [ONGOING]

Chapter 1 -> Chapter 2 -> Chapter 3 ->

The Wedding of Bruce Wayne and Silver St. Cloud [COMPLETE]

Part 1

Stolen [ONGOING]

Part 1 -> Part 2 ->

Art

Beauxbatons dividers

Dancing Cael

Hanno Cavendish

Wonder Girl Radiant ref

Princess Viccori Victoria ref

My Tags

DC: #aqua charming, #aqua grayson, #blue comet, #d'aqua, #callie eclipse, #macy cobblepot, #kindal blazilike, #red veil, #shane todd, #scarlet quiver

Marvel: #sunny castle, #sunshine castle, #sunny parker, #sunshine parker, #halo

Wizarding World: #althea moonlace, #sebastian sallow x althea moonlace, #sebthea, #evangeline sallow, #newt scamander x evangeline sallow, #newtangeline, #rhea silverthorne, #ominis gaunt x rhea silverthorne, #zelma silverthorne, #eleazar sallow, #radiant glasspetal, #oliver wood x radiant glasspetal, #glasswood, #hadlee euphoric, #cedric diggory x hadlee euphoric, #cedlee, #damian glasspetal, #trial of sebastian sallow, #thashma, #theseus scamander x ashma fahlstrom, #ashma fahlstrom, #victoria macmillan, #percy weasley x victoria macmillan, #perctoria

About my OCs

Althea Moonlace

Ashma Fahlstrom

Aquaria Macmillan

Edward Glasspetal

Eleazar Sallow

Evangeline Sallow

Hadlee Euphoric

Noctua Silverthorne

Noelani Scamander

Radiant Glasspetal

Rhea Silverthorne

Victoria Macmillan

Ships

Glasswood Masterlist

Perctoria Masterlist

Thashma Masterlist

My Linktree is here!

#amethystandemma #fanfic writer #harry potter #wizarding world #fantastic beasts #hogwarts legacy #dc comics #marvel comics

41 notes · View notes

americasass81 · 2 months ago

Text

A Sticky Situation

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Very Mild Stalking, Theft, Home Invasion, Guns, Threatening Behaviour, Implied Kidnapping, Mafia AU. Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note 1:- Written for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor Roo's Mini-Bingo Mafia AU, for this fic I chose to combine the bingo choices highlighted below.

Author’s Note 2:- Thanks goes to @firefly-graphics for creating the included gun divider found here. Thank you Daisy.

Author’s Note 3:- This fic also includes a little running inside joke that only our sweet @dangertoozmanykids101 is likely to get.

Author’s Note 4:- All images were found through a google search.

Synopsis:- Being who you are, you always had an eye for things that glittered. But this time your five finger discount might have landed you in trouble with the worst possible crowd.

Pairings:- mafia boss!Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Word Count:- 8,421

Walking down the three short steps into the ballroom and accepting a tall, chilled glass of champagne from a passing waiter, you took one long sip that half emptied the glass while looking around and marveling that you had actually made it past the front door. A highly exclusive party that seemed to have bouncers stationed at every exit and a guest list so rigorously checked that no one was getting in without an invitation, you still couldn't believe that you had pulled this off. But here you were.

Easily slipping through the main gates as a trail of high end cars entered the property and made their way along the winding driveway, the expansive grounds and dark shadows were to be your cover for this meticulously planned adventure. Moving carefully through the trees, plants and water features, you at last made it nearer the front side of the property and so taking a moment to find the right spot from where to observe things, you quickly removed your long dark coat and casual trainers to replace them with a pair of heels while at the same time revealing your main outfit underneath.

You had come prepared.

Dressed to the nines in a midnight blue ankle length dress, its slit reaching half way up your left thigh, the diamond and sapphire necklace that hung around your neck and helped to successfully show off the twins told anyone watching that this was the type of party someone like you belonged at. Of course, if those same people knew the necklace was a glorified fake they would be thinking a whole load of other thoughts and anyone standing close enough to figure it out would mean a world of trouble for you. But that was a problem you kept far from your mind for now. Best instead to keep your thoughts on why you were here in the first place and what the next part of your plan entailed.

Waiting then for the moment that both bouncers by the door were inundated with the height of the arrivals, you shimmied your way carefully along the periphery of the guests, bouncers and strategically growing, at least for you, shrubs lining the outside front of the house and now you were just another part of this sprawling estate. Dressed as you had in an outfit that oozed power, privilege and sophistication, no one here would believe that your intentions this night were anything other than honourable. And that's exactly the look that you were going for.

Moving around the inside space now as women dressed every bit as glamorous as you nestled close to their husbands and partners, you worried suddenly for a moment however that your unattached status might pose a problem in the grand scheme you had concocted, but thankfully a closer look towards the fringes of the room and your anxiety over this particular discrepancy dissipated as easily as you had made it inside. There were women, and guys too for that matter, that seemed to be equally unattached. So now it was time to focus instead on your business here.

Hearing about this event from some of your more reliable contacts, the expensive attire of the guests attending would have been more than enough reason to get your sticky little fingers all excited, if not for the added incentive of where you now stood. The Carter Estate, as expansive, expensive and every bit as private as pretty much all the other estates in this highly exclusive area, it was a boon just for someone like you to step foot inside the main gates. Except this estate for some reason had an extra prestige those other neighboring estates did not ... it had never been broken into.

Records for the surrounding area going back as far as you could find revealed a history of mysterious deaths, petty thefts, properties changing hands multiple times in short spans and yet the Carter Estate stood out above them all. Centuries old and apparently existing out of old money, to this day it maintained an immaculate image, both physical and on paper, and it thoroughly intrigued you. Surely no place could boast such a record. There had to be a weakness somewhere and you were going to find it.

Listening absentmindedly now to various snippets of conversation as your feet continued to move you around the property, you soon found yourself on the second floor and decided now was as good a time as any to put the rest of your skills to work. Strolling along the hall, admiring the various artworks and tapestries hung in strategic places, the sound of heavy footsteps and security sounding chatter swiftly brought you back to how far you had strayed from the party however and now some quick thinking was required before you were discovered and the night was truly scuppered.

Taking a quick look around you then, you opened the nearest door you came to, slipped quietly inside and released a whispered sigh of relief as two muscular, suited thugs walked by the miniscule crack you had left open without knowing that a blessed thing was off on what appeared to be their routine check. 'So much for security,' you thought. Still, it had been an extremely close shave and it definitely intrigued you as to whether or not this was the reason the place had never been robbed. Clearly the owners took major steps to protect the grounds, the house and the guests that entered this place. Which only intrigued you all the more.

Watching a few moments longer now to make sure that they had both moved on sufficiently and that no one else was taking their place, you next contemplated stepping back outside and exploring further until a wayward glance behind you took your breath away. Literally. Standing currently in a magnificent bathroom three times the size of your own, which was not small by any means, the architect student you spent your days presenting to the world was left stunned and speechless in equal measure.

Nestled between the floor to ceiling window taking up most of the back wall and the clear glass doors, the sunken bath under a ceiling recessed shower head to you was one of the sexiest interior designs you had ever witnessed and only confirmed that despite the age of the building it had been renovated and modernized with thought, while still maintaining the character of the outside. And that was before your fingers even reached out now to skim across the marble counter that held the double sinks across from the toilet and bidet. It really was a feast for the eyes.

One that almost distracted you from how this night was meant to play out.

Tearing your hands and eyes away from the sight that lay before you and now returning your exploring thoughts elsewhere, you peered out the door once more and confirming then that no one else was about, you excited the bathroom as discreetly as you had entered and made your way along the hall once more until a double set of doors at one end told you that you had made it to the master bedroom. But opening them up however revealed a totally different prize instead. One you had both expected, but hadn't.

Taking a quick look around you once more to confirm that no one was watching what you were doing or coming to stop you, you just as quickly entered this room then and gently shutting the door behind you marvelled at the splendor waiting before your eyes. Decked out in lush tones of mahogany as far as the eye could see, bookshelves lined the opposite wall behind the desk that reflected the power oozing from every inch of this beautiful property. And that was before you even acknowledged the seating, coffee table and fireplace off to your right.

This was a place you could see yourself hanging out in for the rest of your life. If you didn't already have a plan for the rest of your life that is.

Pushing down the architect you hoped to be some day and re-engaging the thief that brought you here this night, a silent, swift and thorough search of the room that definitely identified itself as an office and you were at last ready to secure your haul when another item grabbed and held your attention in a way no other item in this room or house had so far. For it seemed to call out to you. Standing beside one of the front facing windows at the side of the fireplace, a box set of books on the shelf caught your eye and stood out above all the rest ... for a number of reasons.

The Complete Collection of Peter Rabbit, it was a favourite of yours as a child and seeing the whole twenty-three books presented here before you now just seemed like an extra prize. Added to that the fact that it really didn't fit into this type of environment or building and your mind was made up. This was an item you just had to claim as your own. Removing it then from the shelf and placing it reverently in your bag along with a watch from the desk drawer and the stacks of cash you had conveniently found hidden away inside a massive hollowed out dictionary, you then opened up the window and threading your grappling hook through the sturdy handles of your bag, sent the wire and your haul hurtling over the property boundary towards a waiting tree for the timer to disengage so you could collect your loot later when no one was watching.

Next you just had to survive til later.

Taking one last look around the room once more then to make sure you had not overlooked anything that might still be valuable or disturbed anything major that might give away your presence here ... besides the Peter Rabbit books of course, you now carefully left the room and headed back downstairs to make sure anyone who might have noticed your absence was reminded that you were in fact still here and had been all night. After all, this was a big party and you could just as easily have been enjoying the grounds outside or using the facilities as opposed to sticking your greedy little fingers in places that greedy little fingers ought not to be stuck.

Enjoying one or two more drinks then, just to settle your nerves, you then strolled outside into the night air, carefully collected the bag containing your casual clothes from behind the tall hedge where you'd stashed them upon your arrival and working your way back out towards the front gates, was left grinning from ear to ear when one of the catering trucks passed through the opening gates and conveniently facilitated your safe passage out. You couldn’t have planned it better.

The heist of a lifetime, the Carter Estate had proven itself to be no different than any of the other properties around this area after all given the right talent and circumstances. But then again as you headed off towards your bag and thought some more about what this night had entailed, another thought rooted in the reality of what you had just done finally hit you. Maybe the place had been robbed before but nobody knew it. After all, you had no plans to advertise what you had done. And though you had no idea who lived there or what they did for a living, the security guys prowling the halls more than confirmed that if a thief had been discovered, the police were not going to be needed to administer justice. No, something told you that this type of crime would be handled internally and discreetly and now your adventure this night took on a whole different sheen.

You may just have been the next in a long line of people who had successfully breached the estate's wall but would forever be denied the luxury of proclaiming that fact. Still, it had been an exciting night all the same and walking away with your bag now told you that the adventure at least was not over. You still had to make it back to your student accommodation where a soft bed awaited your aching feet and the anonymity afforded you there would provide you the peace and privacy to sort through your haul.

If only you'd known then how fleeting that peace would be.

Waking up early the next morning, as he normally did, despite the late hour of the party the previous night, Steve Rogers made his way downstairs to the pool for his routine morning swim before breakfast and the day's business took up a major chunk of the rest of his day. Ducking down beneath the water before breaking the surface to start in on his lengths, he had to admit at least to himself that the party had been a roaring success. Entertaining everyone with plenty of drink and good food, the meetings afterwards had been highly productive and thanks to the work done by his lieutenants the various mergers and acquisitions he now had lined up would substantially increase the family's profits going forward. But he still had some work to do on his end to ensure success.

Leaving the pool on these thoughts then as he headed for the shower before dressing, eating and thanking his housekeeper Maria for his usual coffee and fruit infused oatmeal, he next made his way back upstairs to his office to return some calls and keep his legitimate endeavours ticking over before his attention turned to his more lucrative enterprises. But those enterprises it seemed were about to become his far more pressing concern however when his call to his hotel manager Ethan finished up and a quick few steps to the bookshelf by the fireplace window threw a spanner into years and years of meticulous planning and file keeping.

A major fucking spanner.

Placing his palm on the spot that always held his treasured box set of all twenty-three Peter Rabbit books, the books now haphazardly repositioned in its place would have been cause enough to get his blood boiling and his trigger finger itching to dole out some serious revenge on whomever had found their way into his sanctuary and stolen something very near and dear to his heart, if it wasn't for the broader and far more catastrophic events this theft was likely to unleash.

Livid now as his eyes confirmed what his hand had discovered, Steve next made his way to the opposite side of the room and removing the old and massive dictionary from the other countless ordinary and uninteresting books that lined the shelf here, he didn't need his eyes to tell him what his hands and head already knew. The tome was too light. Opening up the cover then and looking now at the empty hollowed out inside staring back at him, he wanted to scream out all his anger and frustration at what had happened but that way led to wasted time and energy and too much of that had already been expended.

Thinking back now on when he had last used either of these items for their more nefarious purposes, he at least deduced that the party last night had given someone the perfect opportunity to pull off this unfortunate heist. But that then brought with it its own complications. Hosting as he had people of wealth, power and privilege, as well as the odd mafia associate with whom he had business later that night, the customary no cameras, phones or surveillance of any kind rule had been rigorously enforced which meant there was no way now to find out who had stolen these items most precious to him.

But that did not mean he was without options.

The fifty thousand dollars in easy access money for example was of course a loss, but a simple trip to the bank and that problem was one that was quickly and easily cleared up without any major effect on both his legitimate and illegitimate business dealings. The box set of books however? That was a bigger loss, both personal and professional, than even Steve was comfortable admitting even to himself. Known only to James 'Bucky' Barnes, his second-in-command and lifelong brother-in-arms, these stories his mother had read to him as a child were still some of his most precious childhood memories, but the secret known only to himself however had more far reaching and devastating consequences.

Hidden discreetly inside the lid of the box set's decorative casing, a micro SD card detailing mob dealings dating back to the moment Steve Rogers had entered this life, was now simply waiting for some intrusive mind to stumble upon its existence and boot it up. And what then? Of course, the hidden tracking software that would alert his phone to its location would kick in the second it was slotted into an internet connected computer and as such was a convenient safe guard, but not having the blasted thing stolen in the first place would have been the best insurance policy of all. After all, if the thief was lucky enough to find the SD card, the information it contained could wreak havoc on his business, reputation and freedom should law enforcement become involved. And that was the worst case scenario.

The best case scenario was that the thief simply tried to blackmail him, at which point he could easily track them down and deal with them as he had all others who had dared to think he was an easy mark. Of course, the ideal outcome for Steve was that this information would never even see the light of day to begin with given that its loss didn't stop his enterprises from carrying on as they normally had. But something told him that a thief who had made their way this far into his home, stolen from him and made it out again without any of his staff being any the wiser meant that this information was going to become privy to other eyes besides his own soon enough and now it was just a matter of waiting to see how long that took.

But those that knew him best knew that waiting had never been his most redeeming quality.

Waking up around half past one the next day, as the previous night's activities and the walk home had knocked you out with the same vigor as the hikes up the mountains you usually took ever summer, a quick shower, an equally rushed breakfast and then it was time to check out exactly what the previous night had furnished you with. Folding up your pull down bed and lifting off the loose floorboards, you entered the combination, opened up the concealed safe beneath and drew out your bag before sealing everything back up and moving into the main living area where a comfortable couch awaited the next phase of your exploration

Checking once more then to confirm that the front door was indeed locked up tight, you next made your way to the coffee table and carefully emptied out the bag's contents before your searching began in earnest. And what an overload of information that search provided.

Picking up the watch first that had been laying casually in the desk drawer beside the phone you were smart enough to leave behind, you knew the letters S.G.R. engraved on the back would put a nice dent in any price you got for it, but thankfully a quick internet search informed you that a hefty price could still be yours. Which brought you then to the stack of money. Or more accurately the stacks. Five of them to be exact in crisp one hundred dollar bills, a count, recount and third count just to be certain your brain and calculator hadn't been totally fucking with you and some serious questions now began to filter through your mind.

Who for example had a watch, possibly engraved with their initials, that cost more than any person ought to be spending on something that did nothing other than tell the time? Who had a state of the art phone that from what the internet told you was limited to only fifty devices worldwide? What type of person squirreled away fifty thousand in cash in a hollowed out book just casually placed on a bookshelf where anyone, given enough time, could come across it and claim it as their own?

And who the hell had you just robbed?

Ignoring these questions however as your fingers returned to the stack of bills adding up to more money than you would ever see, at least until your education was finally completed, you thought briefly about blowing the whole lot on something stupid and extravagant but then catching the book set still lying in the bag thought better of your plan. Fifty thousand dollars was an awful lot of money that could be put to far better use than silly items that would brighten your life for a few days but do absolutely nothing to enrich your soul. No, better to find some worthy causes and see that this windfall would go to benefit those underprivileged people whose lives would be far better improved by your extracurricular activities.

So that then left the book set. The prize you coveted most from your excursion last night. But that was an item that deserved your undivided attention and right now the cash staring back at you was taking up most of your brain's bandwidth so perhaps it was time first to deal with this situation. Making up your mind then on passing along the watch and the money, you placed the book set into another bag, returned it to the safe and placing the watch and money back in the bag from the previous night, put on your jacket and shoes and headed off to redistribute your new found wealth in a manner totally reminiscent of Robin Hood. If only you'd remembered that Robin's deeds had landed him in trouble too.

Exiting the bus and walking cautiously through the city, mindful of the valuable cargo you now carried, a very productive half a day later and the watch and you now settled down in a small cafe to catch your breath and ease the muscles in your face from all the talking and smiling your good deeds had solicited from those grateful to receive your charity. So much talking and smiling.

Stopping off first at a shelter for abused women, the ten thousand dollars had been repaid here with hugs from practically every single worker there and this type of response had of course been mirrored at the crisis nursery and the local homeless shelter. From there, the city's animal shelter was a much more welcome affair, for you at least, with many grateful thanks once more but this time a playful hour spent in the company of some of the four legged guests and your heart felt so much lighter by the time you had petted the last of the canine bundles and promised to call back and visit them again. So that now just left one stack of ill gotten bills and you knew where that was going. Your trips so far having taken care of women, children, animals and those whose lives had fallen on hard times, it was now your chance to do something to foster some beauty in the world.

An avid reader from a very young age, instilled in you by your beloved mother who constantly reminded you of the power and gift hidden within the covers of almost every book ever written, the library manager was rendered almost speechless by your extremely generous donation. But to you, it was simply a way of securing the future of an old friend. Books after all had been your lifeline throughout your life. Bringing you joy, sparking your creativity and curiosity and taking you on countless adventures while also opening you up to a world of friendships through the various online book clubs and chat groups you popped in and out of from time to time. And that didn't even touch on the hours of simple pleasure you derived sitting down by an open fire with a mug of hot chocolate as the latest mystery or fantasy novel took you to strange and wonderful places as the words before you came alive and sparked your own creative tendencies.

No, this was perhaps your most rewarding donation and sitting down now with your mint infused tea and toasted ham sandwich, your smile this time was as warm and genuine as those you had been receiving all day. A good deed was definitely its own reward. So that just left the watch and you knew exactly where to go with that. Finishing up your meal and leaving behind a nice tip for the young server who was very clearly run off her feet, a quick trip through the park and Donnie's was just in sight.

Still called Donnie's but taken over now by his brother Dave since the previous owner had taken to retirement and fly fishing, the muscular man in the suit holding open the door for you as he exited the pawn shop should have had you paying more attention to how much he stuck out as not belonging there, but your mind was on the end prize here. Thanking him however, while noting the blue of his eyes and the way his suit clung to his powerful frame, a quick glance at him sitting into his Lexus RX 350 and other thoughts almost distracted you from why you had entered these premises in the first place. After all, you were here on business, but what on earth was a man who clearly had enough money to shell out on expensive tailor made suits and cars doing in a place like this. Still that was not your concern right now as you made your way to the counter only to be left disappointed when Dave took one look at the watch and offered you only a fraction of what you had expected to receive. And not even a high fraction at that.

Blaming it on the engraving which you knew couldn't really devalue it to the extent that he was suggesting, you thought once more on his offer but decided instead that it just wasn't good enough. Given what the internet had suggested and your years of pilfering the odd timepiece here and there, you weren't about to be short changed for anything and so walking out of the shop decided that perhaps an online sale might produce some higher results. But that would be at some future date. Right now, Dave's attitude had soured what had otherwise been a productive and rewarding afternoon, so now it was time to head back home and recapture some of the elation your donations had garnered. And you knew just how to do it.

Opening back up the door to your apartment and locking it securely behind you again, you rescued the book set from the safe while placing the watch back inside and relaxing back onto your bed began to examine the precious item before you. Stepping now into memory's flow while remembering back to your mother and you reading those stories together and all the joy it brought to both of you, you now lovingly lifted the item from the bag and placing it on your knees, marvelled at the sight before you.

Dust free and immaculate in a way that told you it had been well looked after, some slight wearing along the crease of the lid at least told you also that this item was opened on more than one occasion. Which made you wonder if the person you rescued this from was like you a fan of these stories too. Perhaps a closer look might give more insight on this so opening up the lid then and taking out the first book, a glance along the spine confirmed the book indeed had definitely been read on more than one occasion. And yet it still looked loved.

In beautiful condition, just like the box that held it, a closer look at every other book told the same story twenty-two more times. Each book had been read numerous times and carefully handled and stored as if they were an item more precious than diamonds or gold. And perhaps they were. Perhaps, like you, the previous owner too had fond memories of a time spent reading these very same books with a loved one long since passed away now. And yet, this little revelation did nothing to sway your conscience. The books were yours now. A treasured connection to your mother and childhood and you wouldn't return them for anything. No, you would keep them too as their previous owner had and furnish them with the same care and reverence they surely deserved.

Which is exactly what you were attempting to do as you lovingly placed each one back in their box when a curious anomaly caught your eye. Noticing now an unusual ridge along the left hand side of the inside lid, the emptying of the box and a closer examination of the silk lining and a whole new adventure opened up before your very eyes. Carefully peeling back the silk to reveal that it was stuck to the lid with the thinnest of velcro strips, the micro SD card slipping loose brought more questions as to what exactly you had stumbled into the night before. Questions your curious mind now wanted answers to.

Moving from the bed then and walking the few feet out to the living room, you quickly retrieved the laptop you had used earlier before stopping up short as your eyes fell once more on the item you had just discovered. It just wasn’t possible. Taking a seat now on the couch and turning on your laptop to aid in your quest for answers, the 128TB image staring back at you told you something strange was at play here. Oh sure, micro SD cards were nothing new and had been used as extra storage in most technological devices for many, many years now. But this? 128TB were not widely available yet. 1TB was as high as most people on the street were ever likely to come in contact with, while the very odd few might be lucky enough to capture a glimpse of an ultra high capacity 2TB card. But never had you even seen a 128TB storage capacity anything.

So where then did this come from and what kind of information did it hold?

Focusing now on these two questions rather than perhaps the far more important ones of who would own such an item and why it might be concealed within a box of children's books, a rummage around in your bedside locker drawer for a micro SD card reader and your now internet connected laptop told you your night time activity and the distribution of all that money had landed you in more trouble than you could ever hope to get yourself out of. And still part of you didn't want to believe all that you were seeing.

Inserting the SD card into your laptop and successfully deducing the password on the second attempt, opening up the explorer software revealed more folders than you could ever remember seeing on the screen before you and it honestly made you a little nervous. But still you started off alphabetically and ended up being more sorry than you could ever remember as document after document revealed the reality of what you had stolen. Revealed in crystal clear detail in fact. But that couldn't be.

Expecting to find music and photos, given the sentimental location where you had found the card, but also accepting that you might also be privy to some financial information, the phone conversation recordings, the shipping manifests, the dates, times, endless lists of names, family associations you came across sent further sparks of fear down your spine until a name with three distinct words caught your eye ... Steven Grant Rogers. Fuck sake, S.G.R. Could it be? Could the watch, this card and the information contained upon it all really belong to the same person?

Again, who the hell had you just robbed?

Doing a deeper dive now into the information displayed before you, oblivious to the fact that half a world away a phone pinging had alerted the previous owner of said information to your unauthorized rummaging, the words Mafia and Mob cropping up here and there throughout numerous different documents and more contradictions assaulted your brain. For there was no way what you were seeing could possibly be real?

The Mafia? The Mob? This had to be a joke or perhaps more likely the work of some writer who was currently in the process of writing a new fantasy book based on the crime gangs of old. After all, the Mafia, or Mob as they were also known, has all but died out with the likes of Al Capone, Lucky Luciano, Carlo Gambino, Vito Genovese, Joseph Bonanno and of course Frank Costello. So to see these two words mentioned over and over again here was ludicrous. It had to be for some book, right?. And yet your mind kept coming back to that name and those three little words.

Steven Grant Rogers. There was some connection, some thread there. So there was only one thing left to do and it put the grip of death resting around your heart to the point where you quickly shut down your laptop, returned the books to the box they came in and locked up everything back in the safe in the hopes that they would never again see the light of day. For you suspected now why Dave had little to no interest in buying the watch from you. It was far too hot. Simple as that.

Lying awake in bed now as your photographic memory poured back over the pages upon pages of information it had come across before shutting down your laptop, the final search you had undertaken still haunted you and was now the thing that kept sleep from claiming you completely.

Opening up your web browser and entering the name Steven Grant Rogers into a Google search, you weren't sure what you had expected to find but seeing the face of your possible future killer had not been it. Finding various pages referring to a local property developer and well connected business man, you might have been inclined to draw the conclusion that he was branching out into publishing and all this information was indeed for some book as you had originally suspected until your finger clicking on the images tab blew all such illusions from here to kingdom come. For this was no publishing tycoon.

Staring back at you from the top left hand corner of the screen, another click to enlarge the first image that showed up and the man you had met exiting Donnie's Pawn Shop while holding the door open for you and you accepted with blinding clarity just how foolish you had been. No writer, no matter how meticulous they might be, needed to deep dive into research so much for any book. You had fucked up. Terribly and irreversibly and now you didn't know what to do or how to get yourself out of the hole you'd found yourself in. For part of you still couldn't believe that all of this was real. The Mafia? The Mob? A continuation of some of the most ruthless gangs that stretched back all the way to the 1940s and your grubby little fingers and sense of overachievement may have landed you squarely in their cross hairs.

But surely this couldn't be? They still couldn't really exist after all this time, could they? And yet his image told you otherwise. All but confirming their existence and the power of their reach. But what did that mean for you? Could you perhaps find a way to return the items you still had, explain the mistake you had made and appeal to their humanity so as to agree to a repayment plan in return for your silence and your life? God you were pathetic.

Even knowing nothing about the Mafia as you had before the word had shown up on your laptop screen, you knew better now. There was no way they would agree to that. Even with their power and influence greatly diminished compared to those that had gone before, the man whom you now accepted you had stolen from was no wilting violet. Picturing his hand once more now as it held the door open for you, it suddenly wrapping around your throat and squeezing the life from you as your feeble body trashed beneath him told you mercy and reason would not be forthcoming. You had made a fatal mistake.

But then again, had you really? These people didn't know you from Adam. They didn't know who you were, where you lived or what you did for a living. Hell, you couldn't even be sure they knew what you looked like. As exclusive as the party had been, you hadn't seen one photograph being taken all night and thinking back now on all the research you had done before even undertaking the break in, scarcely any pictures of the estate existed online. They shouldn't be able to find you. So perhaps there was no need to panic after all. Now if only others could believe you weren't really some massive threat out to destroy all that had been built. But as sleep finally came that was out of your control.

Watching outside your apartment now from the bench across the complex beneath the trees as the map on his phone still showed the screen grabbed image of the SD card's last known location, Steve once more contemplated whether or not he should involve Bucky, Tony or even Clint in this endeavour but, like his initial reaction, thought better of it. Sure, all three men were loyal and competent to a fault, and having been with him now since his early days coming up through the ranks, there was no group of lieutenants he trusted more. But this was a stretch too far.

Truthfully trusting no one but himself, it was the reason he had created the SD file collection in the first place and hidden it in his most sacred possession. An insurance policy against any all who dared stand against him. Who knew then that that same precious object would be stolen from him and with that theft the means to destroy all that he had worked for and possibly cost him his very life on top of all that. This really was a shit show if ever there was one. But surely he could fix it? Returning to his car now and sending off a quick text to his second-in-command that a personal matter required his immediate attention, he knew that this explanation at least would buy him some time to sort out this matter without any of it blowing back on him. Hopefully. But that still left the matter of you.

Searching through the college's databases from the second his phone had pinged the SD card's location, it was an easy enough task to find out everything else he possibly needed to know about you and bringing back up your picture now made him wonder what exactly he would discover when he finally confronted you and how you would react. For it seemed the two of you had met before. Remembering your face now from only a few hour ago, having held open the door of Donnie's Pawn Shop on his way out after cordially advising him not to take possession of his watch should he ever happen upon it, Steve now smiled to himself and wondered if he’d really left the thief walk right past him?

Damn, he must be losing his touch. After all, gorgeous looking girls like yourself didn't really fit into the pawn shop scene and now that he thought back to the party and mentally glammed you out of your casual pants and college sweatshirt, he had glimpsed you that night too.

Encased in a midnight blue dress that covered you just enough while still letting one's imagination run wild with what was waiting underneath, your stunning frame descending the staircase should have normally had him sweeping forward to ask your name and claim you as his date. But he was working that night and casual socialising, dancing and fucking were not on the agenda. But maybe some of that could be now? After all, you owed him and he wasn't above using sex as a means of extracting information from broads unwilling to give him what he wanted. But wait, he was getting ahead of himself. Maybe you were in trouble and robbing him had been your only way out? He had countless enemies after all who would love to see him fall and not one of them was above using a woman to do their dirty work for them.

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

Sitting in this car now as you slept on oblivious to the danger lurking outside was getting him nowhere however so perhaps it was time to finally act and find out exactly what you had to say for yourself. So leaving his car behind then and silently entering your apartment in a manner that his massive size contradicted, a thorough search around your apartment gave up no sign of his watch, the cash, the books or the SD card hidden within. But he knew they were here. So that meant he would have to wake you up and get the information from the source. But how best to do that?

Opening your eyes then as a hand around your throat constricted your breathing, you would have leaned into your instincts to scream and fight back but the body resting atop yours and the gun currently nestled against your temple told you neither of those actions was a viable option. And that was before your eyes adjusted to what little light illuminated the room and the figure holding you down. For that revelation brought with it a whole new level of panic altogether.

He had found you.

Staring down at you now as your nightmare blended with reality to bring the mob boss you had stolen from right into the heart of your apartment, you were grateful at least when his fingers relaxed just enough to let some air pass into your lungs. But you knew this mercy wouldn't last and your gasping breaths and sweaty palms only added to the fear coursing through your veins at this very thought.

Squeaky clean as his image appeared to be, what you had seen on the SD card, coupled with his current actions told you that Steven Grant Rogers was not a man to be crossed and you had crossed him big time. Setting aside this thought however and taking in some much needed breaths while the opportunity was still afforded to you, you listened carefully now as he asked you to explain where the items you had stolen were stashed and when at last he stopped talking, you tapped his hand now in an indication that no words of explanation would be forthcoming until his limb left your throat. An act you were only all too grateful for when the man above you swiftly obliged.

But you still had to get him off you for many reasons. One of which bothered you far more than you would ever admit to yourself, the man currently holding you down or the few friends you trusted most in this world. Explaining instead that the items in question lay hidden now beneath the bed, and subsequently under both of your ill positioned bodies as well, his finally moving proved easy enough to accomplish thankfully. But you were not foolish enough to try anything else. Giving him the combination to the safe instead when he moved away the floorboards to reveal the metal door, it was now his turn to speak again when the bag was opened and the items you had stolen were laid bare before his eyes. Along with those that were conspicuous by their absence.

Asking to explain now why you had stolen these things in particular, he smiled to himself without meaning to as you recited a logical answer to each of his questions in a manner that totally impressed him despite the circumstances surrounding this whole fucking mess. You were not some blubbering damsel in distress it seemed.

Explaining for example that the watch was clearly valuable and though it wasn't until afterwards that you had noticed his initials, you were still prepared to take the hit from the engraving to claim the cash most pawn brokers would easily fork over for an item such as this. Of course, you hadn't anticipated the owner turning up and frightening off your potential cash cow with his fearsome build and reputation, but had he not found out where you lived some online buyer would surely have given you a nice price for the item. To which Steve nodded his head and hid his smile as he admired your cunning and honesty. But there was still the matter of your mouth which irked him slightly when you veered off however from the continuation of what he wanted to know and asked instead how he had in fact found you.

But to that Steve simply reminded you that he had the gun and you were supposed to be answering him. So you figured to keep breathing a little while longer you better get on with it, which brought you to his next question and the phone you'd left behind. But then here you proved his original suspicions correct on this matter when you confirmed the possible tracking software included on it made it nothing but a nuisance and thus totally worthless. Which actually might have impressed him more if you hadn't been tracked by another means anyway. And that was the item he wanted answers for next.

Why for example had you taken those books and no others? What had you read on the SD card and had you told anyone else about it? Had you made any copies and if so how many and where were they? And finally, and perhaps most important of all as far as he was concerned, how on earth had you managed to crack the password that allowed you to decrypt the SD card in the first place?

Confirming straight off the bat that you had told no one about what you had read nor made any copies, pointing the gun straight at your head and threatening to shoot you if he even suspected you of telling a lie, you quickly and forcefully swore that you were telling the truth. To which he seemed to believe you. But then again, maybe it had nothing to do with your powers of persuasion. After all, once he had admitted that the SD card contained tracking software that gave up your location the second you slotted it into your laptop, you figured it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility to also contain software that could confirm if any copies had been made. So why bother lying to him at all.

Not that he confirmed or denied this fact as he nudged you onwards with your answers. Which brought you to how you had figured out the password and also revealed why you had stolen the book box set in the first place.

Like him, they held a sentimental value to you too and it was through this sentiment and logic that you had deduced the villain Jonathan McGregor might be the key that unlocked the card and all the information stored within. Information you hadn't been prepared for and probably never would. But it was part of you now, which Steve quickly discovered when he asked you once more how many files you had read and how much information you still remembered. A question you didn't immediately answer, which somehow gave him his answer nonetheless. You possessed some type of photographic memory it seemed and added to all that he now knew about you, it made you extremely valuable to him. But you had still cost him fifty thousand dollars and that it appeared was nowhere in sight. So what was the situation with that?

Listening without further interruption now as you finished up by telling him how and to whom you had given away the entire fifty thousand dollars in half a day with no means to pay him back until you finished your degree and secured suitable employment, he closed his fist around the metal object in his hand once more and thought now of Bucky and Tony encouraging him to end your life for all your many transgressions. But some strange feeling he couldn’t put word to and other voices spoke stronger and helped to curb his more reckless tendencies. Hearing in his mind Natasha and Clint advise caution, the two lieutenants so quick to pull the trigger to protect the family were also known to be his conscience when those same difficult decisions needed to be made. And none were more difficult than this.

Realising now that the woman before him was extremely careless with her life, yet at the same time clever and brave and stunningly single, your innate goodness on top of all that, coupled with the childhood connection you somehow shared with him and his mind was made up. You could pay back the time, effort and money you owed him in a far more useful, pleasurable and life long way. One he teasingly hinted at when he finally spoke again and made his decision known. "Fuck sweetheart, why did you have to tell me all that, cause now I'm keeping you forever," and with that his hand returned too fast to your throat and squeezed a little tighter until darkness closed around your consciousness and took you from your life into his.

#mafia boss!Steve Rogers x Female Reader #writing event #mafia AU

14 notes · View notes