#when compassion gets in the way of mission | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

filmstarved · 3 months ago

Text

i can fix him and fuck him.

18+ [logan x female!reader]

nobody can break through logan's walls with ease like you can. and he actually lets you, welcomes it even. he needs it to breathe and when he's ready to walk out of the gifted youngsters door, there you are again.

word count: 5,737

logan sulks. he’s so devoid of love and compassion that he sulks. he’s confused most days, too. unsure of who he is and what he even wants. the people who are somehow closest to him can’t even find their way past the fire breathing dragons that guard the drawbridge to his heart. (scott jokes that he doesn’t have a heart and that the adamantium replaced it and he’s fully pumping cold, hard metal).

logan is a man who answers to himself and doesn’t give people even the slightest chance to ask him a dumb fucking question because he’s not in the fucking mood. he’s never in the mood…unless you put him in one. usually a good one.

you earn a smile from logan as easy as the sun makes it seem to rise every morning and the moon to take its place at night. it leaves the team dumfounded. they believe if you weren’t here, logan would have left a long time ago. they’re right. logan used to search high and low for any excuse to leave. he never knew where he’d go, he’d just…go. but you didn’t dare let him out of your sight. not ever since the professor had brought you to what you call home a little over a year ago now.

deep down, he wanted reasons to stay. somewhere deep inside that metal frame…he wanted things to be right again. he’d find it tiring most days to carry around his grief and anger. but you gave him reasons to stay just one more day.

“so we’re working on that thing for charles together tomorrow right?” you asked on a wednesday, standing so cutely in the threshold of his door that it was almost annoying to him.

“so we’re catching that movie downtown with ororo and hank tomorrow right? it starts at 6!” you asked on a thursday.

“heeyyy, lo…do you possibly, maybe think you could sub for scott’s morning classes tomorrow? he has a dentist appointment…,” you shyly asked on a very late sunday night. (logan heard scott’s jokes about his heart so he made you ask. logan was the only one available.)

but behind his stoic stature and intimidating glare fixed on his face accompanied by knitted brows, he’d always say yes…to you. you were his reason for staying. he knew it but would never admit it. you knew it but played the oblivious part well. and the rest of the team would gossip about it when you two weren’t around. but as long as you were here, logan has nowhere else to be.

although as of late, you’ve been busy. much busier than usual. charles has you creating plans for a mission happening soon. when you’re not teaching mutant ethics 101 to freshmen, you’re hauled up in the lab or library; sometimes darting back and forth between the two multiple times a day leaving very little time to worry about logan.

tonight, you brought your work back to your dorm. as you cleaned up a rough draft of an exit strategy, rain began to tap lightly on the window. you had lit candles littered around the room as well as grouped on your table, a small desk lamp illuminated the surface further. as you reached up to stretch your aching back muscles, you were startled by the sound of a throat clearing.

your eyes shot to the sound at your door where logan stood, leaning against the frame; arms crossed and still like he had been glued to the spot.

“hi lo,” you say. “y’scared me, heh.” you aren’t used to logan greeting you often, especially not this late. he’s over 150 years old, of course he’s grumpy and an early bird. you’re usually the one at his door with requests and invitations to social events he assumes can be nothing short of insufferable. he sighs, his stare dropping to burn holes in the ground. “logan, are you-“

“i think i’m gonna get out of here, bub.”

those words felt like an arrow hitting the bullseye in your chest and then another splitting the first one right through the center.

“wha-what do you mean?…you’re leaving?” you asked, confusion and frustration trembling in your voice.

“it’s too hard being here.”

with that, you stood up from your chair, beelining to him. “c’mere,” you say hushed, pulling on his leather clad arm, trying to unfold them and get him out of the door frame. he doesn’t budge and you pull “the look” that you know he can’t say no to. “come sit with me please, lo.”

he unfolds his arms which allows you to grab his hands to lead him to take a load off on your bed. your bare feet pat on the hardwood floor as you quickly go back to close the door.

you walked back over to him, assessing his body language. ever since he let you use your mutation to “read him” a few months ago, you told him you’d never do it again without his permission. one gaze into his eyes and a touch of his skin and you could feel everything wracking around in his head. anxiety, rage, hate but love, pain. it was hard to feel just for a moment and your heart cracked knowing he was riddled with those feelings constantly.

but right now you couldn’t help it, he was slouched on the edge of the bed, his head dropping to rest in his large hands, and apparently ready to walk right out of the door. your powers are amplified with a touch and even more when you can look into their eyes. from a distance, you could feel a sense of unease and something else… a pressure…built up in your stomach as you surveyed your friend. it didn’t feel bad though…it felt familiar. a good familiar. you stopped reading him and did your best to shrug off the aching stomach feeling and care for your disheveled logan.

he wasn’t emotional, like ever. he hid all that, only showing you what you wanted to see; what he believed you wished him to be — happy, whatever that was. but that couldn’t’ve been farther from the truth. sure, you want him to be happy but also just whatever he wanted to feel, you wouldn’t suppress it or try to change it to fit some ideal of who people on the outside want him to be. yes, he was one of the meanest motherfuckers you had ever met but he was your mean motherfucker. (whatever that means because nothing has ever really been clear between you two).

you walked closer to him, forcing yourself in his diabolical bubble. you stood between his legs, removing his hands from his face to wrap them around your waist. you scooped your hands under his scruffy chin, pulling up to get a look into his bloodshot eyes. oh, he’d been crying.

“lo…,” you muttered. “why were you crying, wolv?” you slide a thumb across his cheek where tears had stained the skin. “why do you want to leave?”

he pulled his face away, breaking his stare with you. he dropped his head forward to rest on your stomach, wrapping his arms around your legs so his hands rested on the back of your thighs. he began to slowly rub the exposed skin of them that your very short night shorts didn’t cover. he lifted the hem of your shirt slightly to press his hot face into the soft, cool skin underneath. he hummed into it, allowing you to feel the vibration.

“logan,” you softly moaned his name under your breath. his fingers press firmly, inching closer to the crease in the skin where your ass meets thigh.

“is this okay?” he asks lowly, when he looks up for confirmation to keep going, you’re already looking down at him nodding. “say it’s okay for me to touch you like this, bub.”

“yes, keep going, logan,” you said curtly. in your voice there is a hint of need. you hadn’t been touched like this since jean’s christmas party, tipsy off spiked egg nog in the garden with a guy whose mutation was a very wet, long tongue. flirting with him seemed intriguing in the moment, but five minutes later, it rendered itself utterly useless due to user error. the sexual tension between you and logan is so potent it usually clears out a room. aside from accidental brushes of hands and quick looks at each others lips mid conversation, neither one of you has acted on it.

his hums turn to growls and soft whimpers as your hands ran through and tugged his hair. your fingers found their way to his nape, splaying out to grip the hair there in your fist. he managed to place a single kiss on the skin right above the elastic of your shorts before you pulled his head back to scrutinize his face.

“you don’t have permission to read me,” he groaned. before you could ask how he even knew that’s what you were doing he said, “you get this serious, focused look in your eyes. i can feel you in my head.”

“logan, what are we doing?” you ask, releasing his hair and stepping out of his bubble.

his hands drop from the absence of your thighs onto his lap and his sighs frustratingly.

“what do you mean?” he asks, admiring your body in the dim light with a semi pressing on the denim of his jeans through his boxers.

“i’m…not doing this with you…if you’re just gonna disappear from my bed before the fuckin’ sun comes up. i’m not doing this,” you said, with your hands on your hips.

he pressed his hands into his knees to push himself up to tower over you. he took two big steps forward and stood in front of you. his hand raised up to brush the back of his fingers across your cheek to cup it and rub his thumb over the warm skin.

he pressed his lips to yours, skillfully allowing his tongue access to it. you let him. “i give you permission,” he moaned in your mouth. “read me. feel how i feel about you…how i’ve always felt about you.”

he welcomed the hesitant slip of your hands past his jacket and under his shirt, shivering and chuckling “mm, cold” into your mouth. you rested your cool touch on his hips and with his mouth obsessed with yours, you read him.

your head dizzied instantly and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. you had never felt anything as strong as this. you could almost taste the colors in logan’s head. your heart dropped to your stomach like you were on a rollercoaster, feeling sick from adrenaline in the best ways. and then, returned that good familiar feeling. this time buried even deeper in your stomach, moving it’s way lower…and lower until logan was swallowing the noises escaping you. before you literally passed out, you dropped your hands and took back ownership of your lips and tongue. breathing heavily, you moved away from him to collect yourself.

a beat of silence followed by a heavy sigh and a “well, say something” from logan passed and you opened your mouth to speak before shutting it again.

that…was the best thing you had ever felt. no drug could compare to the euphoria that a minute of kissing logan could bring. you could practically feel yourself lubricating and your upper thighs unconsciously squeezed together as you scrambled to find thoughts.

there were none. your mind already dumb and wanting more of him…more of the feeling. your fists planted firmly on both your hips as if you were grounding yourself to the floor to avoid buckling. you eyed the ground, looked back up at him and forwarded with another heated, taking-in-each-others-breath kiss. your hands found their way to the same place gripping the hair on his nape to which he praised the tug with a moan. he supported your balance as your whines got more whiney and needy and your hands held onto him like life support.

“lay down,” he said into your kiss. it wasn’t really a command, more of a warning because he tossed you on the bed like unfolded laundry.

he stood over you as you collected yourself, darting your tongue out to taste the spit he left behind. you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a look at the man casting a shadow over you. without the sounds of pleasure exclaiming in each others mouths, your ears absorbed the comforting sound of the battering rain. a tree branch smacked the window as thunder rumbled outside.

logan took a moment to admire your presence. starting at the top, he gazed upon your hair that he associates with vanilla and roses and the times he’d touch himself wondering how it’d feel being wrapped around his hand and pulled.

as he removed his leather jacket, he took his time mentally undressing you. feeling even more pressure build in your clit, you bore your hips down into the mattress, rolling them in circles to stimulate the swollen nub. he beheld your tits, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of your hard buds under your very thin, white tank top. he threw his heavy jacket to the side, letting it thud in a ball on the ground.

“you look so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, deeply enthralled by your scantily clad figure laid out in front of him. unable to stop staring, you could see the bulge in his pants get larger and it ridiculously turned you on. with you making eye contact with the crotch of his jeans, he effortlessly unfastened his belt buckle. the metallic buckle clanked to the floor as his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles.

he stroked himself while he looked upon you. it was like you could read his mind, because you began to touch yourself. the twitch of his lips and darkening of his eyes validated your teasing. letting yourself drop back on the bed, you caressed your body for him. one hand occupied by cupping your tit and pinching and twisting your nipple while the other is exploring the wet spot left on your panties. not being able to handle eye-fucking you any longer, he dropped to his knees on the edge of the bed between your legs. logan hooked his arms under your knees, pulling you close which in your intoxicatingly lustful brain you found funny, so you laughed.

logan spread your thighs open so he could fit in between them to leave wet, sloppy kisses all over your skin. he nibbled here and there, earning soft hisses and hums from your parted lips.

kiss kiss nibble hiss mmm kiss hum nibble nibble bite kiss suck

he spent about a minute just doing that, leaving warm welts in his mouths wake. “i need these off of you, princess.” once he had kissed his way up to the elastic of your shorts, he snapped it. you nodded and he did the honor of pulling them down and flinging them across the room like he was opening presents on christmas morning.

he let out an amused scoff as he ran his trembling hand down his face, caught between ecstatic disbelief at the sight of your black lace panties with little black bows adorning the seams. you mentally thanked your past self for slacking on doing laundry and only having your “special occasion” panties left to wear.

“d’you know how pretty you are,” he said. his eyes traced over every inch of you in excitement like you were artwork he stole from the louvre and made out like a bandit with.

his hand disappeared to slickly stroke himself, his mouth watering in anticipation for your taste. his chest heaves as he takes in the sight of you, studying every curve prettily laid out before him; thinking about every position he wants to see you in and every way he wants to please you. without another groan inducing thought, he lunged forward to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue demanding attention. you drink his breath like liquor becoming completely intoxicated by him. he needed this, he needed you.

“need…to taste…you,” he breathed in between kisses. with this mouth obsessed with yours, his hands caress your tits, his thumbing circles on one of the nubs while he’s pinching and pulling on the other. your head falls back and your neck rolls at the sensation, earning profanities from your pretty, swollen lips. your tit misses the hand that he proceeds to run down and up your thigh to locate the spot in your panties you were playing with a moment before. as he parts from your kiss, he’s hooked two fingers under the elastic, pulling those off swiftly.

you yelp when he pushes your torso down. you stare up at the decorative ceiling as he savors you, kissing and massaging your thick thighs. he’s enjoying playing with you as much as possible before allowing himself any pleasure. he wants your juice to cover his face…his neck…his arm…the bed…the floor too when he gets you to pop like a water balloon.

“logan…please, please,” you beg, pawing at his hair. you lift your head to watch the man between your legs taking in the sight and smell of your pretty, wet pussy. even in the dim light, he could see how much you ached for him. he not so secretly got entertainment from watching you lightly buck your hips up to his face and he would’ve let it continue but your pheromones became overwhelming for him; engulfing his head in it’s enchanting aroma.

like fresh pie on a windowsill, he was drawn into you. logan opened wide to swipe one flat tongued lick up your slit. he had one goal — to knock all sense out of you, to fully engulf you in pleasure. he wants you dumb and begging for him to stay right where he is — at the mansion and also all over you.

logan audibly sucked and popped your clit in and out of his mouth, teasing the most sensitive bit. he’d suck and pop and then lick up your slick, repeating the act. one of his big hands reached up to cup your tit, pinching and twisting and circling. from his hair to the tit he wasn’t playing with, you clawed at whatever would ground you. being eaten by logan felt like floating above the stratosphere.

your wet soaked his beard and it only made him more horny, his cock dripping and throbbing in his fist. tasting you, inhaling you, winning pretty sounds from you, knowing he’s the one making you buck up and fuck his nose only made his appetite for you insatiable. he let go of himself to push his pointer and middle fingers into your needing pussy. you hissed and cursed. the thrill of him devouring you began to reach its peak. his fingers pumped relentlessly into you, curling them to stimulate your g-spot. moans, curses, the gushing of your wet cunt, his sucking and popping and vibrating moans mixed with the rain and thunder grumbling outside filled the dorm like mozart’s symphony no. 25.

he wanted to kiss you, so he did. with his fingers still coaxing an orgasm out of you, he shared the sweet taste. he got back on the bed with you, sliding his free hand under your back to push you up to further to see the mess you were making on the sheets.

“look at how good you’re taking my fingers,” he groaned, inching closer to your ear so you could hear his dirty language loud and clear. “you can come for me, baby.” he peppered a few kisses to your forehead, removing his hand from behind you so he could press it into your stomach. this only heightened the overwhelming wash of pleasure coursing through you.

“lo…logan, i’m-“

“fuck my fingers, baby. use them…oh that’s it…that’s it…i feel that clenching, c’mon you can do it for me. go big baby, make me happy.” his dirty mouth and sporadic clit circling and pumping in and out of you with his tireless wrist pushed you over the edge. you cowered into his neck, pulling on his white tank top and biting the salty skin below his ear as your pussy obeyed, erupting with your juices. out of breath and fucking dumb already, you could feel the wet soak the sheets under your ass.

logan pulled his fingers out of you, landing a light smack on your pussy before licking you clean off of his digits. you fell back on the bed, your arms above your head as you heaved and saw stars.

“‘m not done with you, princess.” he slid off the bed, still delighted by your taste and engulfed in your aroma.

“fuuuck,” you groaned. the pulsing lightning feeling spread throughout both legs as an effect of your rocking orgasm. logan was wicked with his tongue, a devious magician with his fingers and you were his sole audience member wondering about his tricks for sleight of hand.

he quickly tossed his tank, that had tug marks from your attempt to ground yourself, to the side, his muscles flexing under his skin. as he let your post orgasm, cock-dumb brain fog clear, he spit in his hand to fuck his fist. his saliva mixed with the pre-cum leaking from the head, he groaned and sighed heavily at the feeling of giving his dick some sort of relief. you, needy for another hit of him, propped yourself up on your elbows to watch the most delectable creature pleasure himself.

just the sight of him illuminated by candles and flashes of lightning outside as he gets off to how fucked out and dumb you look was enough to have you open up again and play with yourself. the sensitivity from your swollen nub required a delicate touch but your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. his knitted brows relaxed, eyes darting from your pretty face, to your tits, to your fingers rubbing circles where his mouth resided moments ago back to look longingly into your eyes.

“you’re gonna stay,” you said. your hand reached your mouth, your tongue swiping a lick up your middle and ring fingers, wrapping your lips around them to coat them in your saliva. “tell me you’re going to stay for me,” you elaborated. your wet fingers found your aching center.

“there’s no where else i want to be,” he answered. he paced closer to the bed where you laid, his dick basically making eye contact with you as he stopped a few inches away. “you’re mine, you know that?” he noticed your hand slow, “keep going,” he commanded. logan reached out to cup your face, tilting his head to get a look at you obeying his every request. “your face…your mouth…,” his thumb swiped across your lips as he spoke. “your body…your cunt.” he leaned down to kiss your mouth, leaving a string of spit attached to your lower lip. “your laugh…your heart,” he said kindly, his hand massaging your scalp. moans earned from his praise escaped you. “you’re all mine. is that okay with you, baby?”

you’re so bewitched by his aura and his subtle touches make your heart race so fast that you can’t do anything but try to maintain his torrid eye contact and nod.

“use your words, honey.” his thumb returned to the softness of your parted lips.

“i’m yours, logan,” you said, taking his thumb in and closing your lips around it. “if you’ll stay with me, i’ll be yours forever,” you breathed around his thumb, speaking from a mix of eager lust and the terrifying need for him to not to be an asshole, just once.

“i’m not going anywhere…i promise,” he said matter of factly before leaning back down to hungrily devour your kiss. “i need to…fuck you…now,” he cursed in between swallowing moans.

“do what you want…i’m yours,” you said just clearly audible over the storm rumbling outside. you two shared eye contact so intense that you noticed his dick twitch from your peripheral. you took his dick in your drooling mouth, reaching up to squeeze the base of him. it twitched from the warmth, pressure and tongue swiping rhythmically around his angry, red tip. you kept yourself enveloped around his length, bobbing your head to hit your gag reflex. the added lubrication drove him crazy, his abs twitching under the toned skin of his abdomen. you moaned around him purely from the enjoyment you got out of having him stretch the corners of your mouth, feeling the sting from it.

logan reached down with both hands to hold your head steady while he sped up thrusting into your throat. your gags and gasps for air, his praise and the storm filled the room beautifully.

“fuuuck, baby, keep that throat open for me please,” he begged. his hands left their position to find a new one — one supporting his thrusting hips, the other petting your head. “oh, you look so fuckin’ pretty with my cock down your throat…you’re taking me so good, sweetheart.”

he pulled his dick out of your mouth to smack it on your face, complimenting how gorgeous you look. he kissed and licked the mess off of your mouth.

“mm, baby i need to know how good you feel.” with that, he rounded the bed to lay down. “c’mere, baby.” you turned around, crawling on all fours to obey him. his cock in its usual place to be, in his fist, leaks pre-cum in anticipation for you to smother it with your warm, clenching pussy.

“lay down,” he said.

“damn, yes sir,” you say, jokingly annoyed with all of his demands. you lay down next to him, your knees instinctively parting slightly. he lays on his side, resting his hand on your stomach, rubbing his large hand in flat circles.

“d’you know how long i’ve thought about this moment with you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss and suck the skin in the crook of your neck. you lustfully sighed at the sensation of his hot breath. his hand finds its way between your legs again, tickling and tapping at your slit. “i want you to read me the whole time i’m inside…can you do that?”

“are you—“

“yes i’m sure, i feel so fucking good right now and i haven’t even felt you. i want you to feel that and more,” he explains, pulling your chin in to taste the desperation on you.

before he came just from your kiss and rutting against the sheets, he hovered above you. his lips stayed attached to your chest, kissing lower and lower to suck a tit into his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue then biting softly on the nub. his hand disappeared from the side of your head to grab hold of his shaft, flicking his tip against your clit. his head dropped as he watched and listened to your slick coating his cock. he quickly swiped up and down your pussy trying to savor every fold and feeling. his brows furrowed, not being able to resist your warmth, he lined himself up with your hole, using his hand to guide just the tip into it.

“oh…fuck,” he groaned in excitement. he pushed in just a little more which caused you to hiss. his head shot up and eyes scanned your face for any sign of regret or unsureness. “are you okay? d’you want to stop?”

“no, baby,” you giggled, lifting your arms rest around his neck, one hand always finding a way into his dark locks. “just been a while…keep going, i’m okay.”

with your permission, he pushed in a little more. he let out a deep groan at the feeling of you stretching to form perfectly around him. you gasped, pressing a hand into his chest, feeling a similar sting to the one you felt in the corners of your mouth earlier. against his want to start thrusting his whole length into you, his went slow, watching your demeanor for cues to keep going.

“you feel…fuck…like it was made for me,” he said which caused the butterflies in you to flutter their wings even faster. “are you okay?” his chest heaved and his breath fanned your face.

“fuck me…please logan,” you said. your hands reached his hips, pushing them down onto you. without wasting another minute, he did.

he bent your knee more to press it into your chest as his hips repeatedly slammed down hard, his balls smacking your ass. with one hand giving him better access by positioning your leg higher, the other cupped and squeezed your bouncing tit.

“oh my…fucking god,” you moaned. you had let the walls of your mutation down, allowing yourself to be flooded by not only your pleasure…but the love logan feels for you plus the absolute sheer euphoria that he was experiencing deep inside of your pussy. it coursed through your body like a steam engine leaving the station. it had felt like you had been brought to five earth shattering orgasms before the one that was bound to shake you again soon.

“you know you feel so good, look at that fuckin’ fucked out smile. can you feel it? can you feel how good you make me feel, baby? don’t stop readin’ me, princess. it’s all for you,” he praised for you to hear every word.

“holy shit…mm fuckin’…ahh!” your hands couldn’t help but find their way above your head, subconsciously reaching for the bed post for something to ground you again.

“here, baby, hold onto me.” logan grabbed your wandering wrist with his free hand, slapping your hand on his chest which you pressed into as if you were pushing him away. before your cock drunk mind could register what happened, he had flipped the two of you so you were on top.

logan looked so fucking pretty under you. you took a second to breathe and take in the view before bending your knees to put yourself in a squatting position on his cock. you placed your hands on his heaving chest for support as you started to bounce your ass on him. ‘oh this is so fun’, the thought making you giggle in elation as you drilled down your hips, rocking them back and forth to feel him stimulate the deepest parts of you. his thumb bored into your clit, drawing circles on it.

as you kept bouncing your wet pussy on him just how he liked, logan lifted his knees up behind you and pushed you back onto them. he moved his hand away from your clit and picked his head up to watch his dick disappear deep inside you. then, he spit. his saliva landed on your pussy and stomach. he went back to stimulating you, fully realizing how much that turned you on from the tight clench around him and the extra juice running down his ass onto the sheets under you two.

he, still playing with your clit, summoned your face closer to his with the middle and ring fingers on the other hand. once closer, he grabbed your neck to kiss your fiercely.

“you’re my good girl, huh?”

‘mhmm’ was all you could muster with his hand around your throat and his hips still ramming his cock into your stretched out hole.

“use those words for me, baby. are…mm, fuck…you my good girl?”

“ye…sss, baby i’m your…good…oh my fucking…girl!!”

“open your mouth.” he fucking spit in it. you moaned tasting him again and feeling it on your face. “good…fuckin’ girl,” he complimented, kissing you and then squeezing your cheeks to spit on your tongue again.

your body started to go limp and your eyes were practically glued together. you could feel the searing hot orgasm burning up inside. you could feel logan in a way that you never thought possible. everything.

his love, his passion, his longing, his fear, his anxiety, his lust, his heart…everything was yours in this moment. high on his feelings, you let your head fall back coming undone on top of him.

“oh you’re so pretty…that’s pretty, baby, keep…fuck…use me, it’s all for you.” his words took you further and further into ecstasy. it was a really good fucking trip that you never wanted to end. the pain of his cock fucking you out and his grip clutching your skin like he’d fall off earth without doing so made you moan so intensely that not even the thunder outside could compete.

he could tell you were a few fucks away from collapsing but so was he.

“baby…you keep clenching around me like that…i’m gonna fuckin’ fill you,” he said. you kept bouncing on it, wanting him to even feel a fraction of how he just made you feel. he closed his eyes trying to last as long as possible in the heaven that he found in you. his thumbs bore into your hips as he used them to ground himself.

“i want it, baby…fill your good girl up.” you leaned down to speak into his ear and then carry on kissing his neck, letting him claim your moans as trophies.

“fuuuuck…fuuuck,” he moaned as his thrusting became sloppy and you weren’t bouncing as much anymore. his abs twitched again along with his face.

SNIKT!!

you hissed at the cool metal of his claws against your skin and the feel of him throbbing severely inside you as he let himself paint your walls. you thanked him in pleased moans before falling on his chest. still semi-hard inside, he kissed the top of your head to which you looked up and he gave you a proper kiss. he let himself twitch out a few more dribbles of cum inside you before pulling his claws back in to carefully rub your back.

a few beats of silence went by as you listened to each others hastened breaths and the rain tapping the glass.

“…i love you, logan.”

“i think you know how much i love you, baby,” he said, smugly remembering how you looked coming on his dick, further escalated by his letting you read him.

you two snuggled naked under the covers and as you laid on his chest and listened to his light snoring, you read him again.

ease and silence…and love.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #xmen fic #wolverine smut #i hate everyone but you #logan howlett #wolverine #hugh jackman

3K notes · View notes

zosan-secondchances · 8 days ago

Text

The Pirate King of the North

Main Themes: Villain Sanji, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

AU where Straw Hat Pirates meet old Sanji from a reality where Reiju didn't have emotions.

Warning: Long post ahead and some One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language.

Part 1 | 2 | 3

Young Zoro hates the fucker but those scars and piercings are doing a number to his soul.

Old Sanji's story goes like this:

He didn't experience compassion from anyone else aside from his mother, who--you know what happened.

Judge kept him locked away until he was 13. He had him released when he was deemed too broken to do anything, and he was apparently a waste of space. As far as the world was concerned, he was already dead. He gets left behind at some random pirate town in the North.

His swirly brows were recognized by the pirates who took him in--only for him to be enslaved because people would pay a lot to have their way with royalty.

He picked up some skills from the other slaves and became cunning af--because he had to be.

At 17 he started a revolt against the slaver pirates, effectively taking over as their new pirate captain.

He became the feared "Mr. Prince" and his words are as sharp as his bite.

He's underweight because he doesn't give two shits about good food.

"The All Blue? It's nothing but an old fishwive's tale," he says.

He used his cunning mind and new pirate crew to hunt down and kill his own father from the shadows.

He enslaved his own siblings and becomes the new ruler of Germa Kingdom. Over the years, he used them for warfare and expanded the territory of the North.

His heart is a bottomless pit for power and control.

He had a fling or two or several with is closely allied with Doflamingo because god damn they're both mad like that. The alliance eventually lead to direct connections with Celestial Dragons.

Sanji gains more power and becomes the notorious "Pirate King of the North"

Meanwhile at the other side of the world, Luffy didn't make it as far as he could have without a good cook.

Luffy would have recruited one from Baratie but the restaurant was absolutely destroyed before the smaller Straw Hat crew could make a difference. Some of the staff didn't make it.

Zoro left the crew when it fell apart at some point.

Due to Zoro's reputation and bounty that he had occurred during his limited time with Luffy, he was offered a position as a Warlord, ultimately taking over the late Jinbe's old role. He accepted and served for several years before he was assigned a job that he didn't know would be the most challenging one yet.

The Celestial Dragons didn't like the fact that Sanji had started to have more worldly control over their own, so Zoro was quietly assigned to hunt down the great Pirate King of the North. Zoro accepted because he felt that he needed more experience before he could take on Mihawk again.

Zoro quickly realised that this mission is not a walk in the park.

Sanji loves toying with the Demon Warlord so he insists on taking him on by himself.

It becomes an endless game of cat and mouse. Sometimes Sanji chases and sometimes he runs, sometimes he wins and sometimes he loses.

They're at each others' throats everywhere in the world. Any person, city or being of any kind that gets in the way usually gets torn apart in the chaos. The hunt goes on for a lifetime. They're currently in their 40's.

Zoro severs Sanji's left arm during one huge fight.

Because of this, Sanji relentlessly tries to get Zoro to marry him to use him in so many ways he can think of--both as an asset and under the sheets--oh the things that he wants the swordsman to do and beg for.

Sanji likes to refer to the tiniest scar on his lip as "Zoro's love bite"

He was about to get a nice fresh one on his chest when some fuckers teleported him away.

Hearing old Sanji's backstory was a bit much. It was young Zoro's turn to have a nosebleed that day.

----------

Oh yes I had fun drawing old silver fox, damaged Sanji. I wish I have the time to colour it up. I've also been very much into reading AU stories, especially soul brand ones. Keep them coming, you beautiful people.

Edit: Woo! I finally decided to make my own AO3 account. It's about time. Link here for the story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60686077

2K notes · View notes

falesten-iw · 4 months ago

Text

Urgent 🆘️ call: 🚨🍉 Please help..🥺😓🙏

My name is Falastin, and I am a mother of three small children, ages 5 years, 2 years, and 3 months. I am not very good with social media, but I am writing to seek your help to give my family in Gaza the chance to live their lives again.

Due to the ongoing genocide we in Gaza are experiencing, my family need your help to survive, leave Gaza, and find safety.

In november 2023 last year, i lost three of my cousins from my mother's family with their wifes and children's, some of them still under the rubble untill now.

In mars 2024 this year i lost another 2 cousins in Alshifa hostpital, this shock after three months of the first lose was a big slap into our face, it was a harsh reminder that death didn’t stop, and that none of us is an exception in this genocide, not a woman nor a child, everyone of us is a target to the death machines above our heads.

My family has lost everything. Some of them have tragically passed away, and those who remain are without shelter, moving from one temporary place to another in a desperate attempt to stay alive. Currently "After more than 20 times of being displaced and having to leave our house escaping from rockets and death " they have fled south and are living in a makeshift tent made from plastic bags and torn clothes.

Each day is a battle for survival. Each day, my family wakes up not knowing if they will have food to eat, clean water to drink, or a safe place to rest. Their homes have been wiped, and their children sit sleepless waiting their death. In Gaza, there is no where to seek shelter, no bunkers, nowhere to hide. Gaza is no more than 40 kilometers long and 10 kilometers wide with a population of just over two million. Gaza's border is completely surrounded by fences and barbed wire. The only way out of Gaza is to Egypt.

I used to introduce myself as the youngest in the family but in this GENOCIDE I’m a big sister who see her siblings’ future getting lost in front of her eyes, as i see my brothers kids who are still young and supposed to be in school, my mom who is 73 years old unable to find her medicine, as I see them, I made it a mission to myself to save my family or who’s left alive from it, to save their future from all of this and to escape Gaza.

Despite everything, I still have hope to save those who remain of my family. But I need all the help I can get from every person on earth. This challenge is not easy for me, especially since I am not good with social media and i dont have so many follower to reach and ask them for help. However, I am trying, and maybe with your support, the impossible can become possible.

Asking for your help is the only way I have to save my family’s life and future. Your help can be our hope when hope seems far away. Because of that, I appeal to your generosity and compassion, asking for help so that we can gather the necessary funds to help my family.

Photos of "Lina," who was born at the start of the war, and she is now 9 months old. Your donation could give her the chance to survive, leave Gaza, and find safety with her family.

I would like to thank everyone who has donated, shared and supported my campaign so far. Your generosity has given us hope in the darkest of times, and I am deeply grateful.

So far, we have raised 3,950 SEK of our 2,000,000 SEK goal - August 15th. While this is a small step, it is a crucial one, and it shows that together, we can make a difference. We still have a long way to go, and I urge you to continue sharing our story and contributing if you can.

Every donation, no matter the size, brings us closer to saving my family and giving them a chance at life. Please read and act as if it were your family, your mother, your siblings in these conditions. 🙏🙏🙏💔💔💔💔

Important note: Donation value:

** 1$ = 10.5 Swedish kr

** 10$ = 105 Swedish kr

** 100$ = 1050 Swedish kr

** 1000$ = 10500 Swedish kr

VETTED and shared by 90-ghost, also as no. 282 in The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet compiled by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi and shared in the masterpost.

We have also been verified by Al Jazeera News. Here is the video. I added this video today, august 15th. Its showing my cousin and aunt in the hospital, where she shares how the Israeli army airstruck them with their kids. Listen to my aunt Suad "Em Mhammed".

Best regards,

Falastin and her family.

2K notes · View notes

gremlingottoosilly · 6 months ago

Note

konig falls in love with his therapist and kidnaps her because he thought her compassion was her showing interest in him

how instead of breathing exorcises as a coping strategy he’s using therapist!reader as a fleshlight for a coping mechanism

You dared to say he has a problem with showing affection and committing to people in non-violent ways. He can be good at showing affection! Great, even! And he will show it to you once he is settled with the basement where he is going to keep you for the rest of your life. At least now you will have time for therapy sessions when he needs it - because you're literally going to be at his beck and call. And on his cock, too. You whimper something about him still having a chance at redemption if he just lets you go, that his coping mechanisms in the form of kidnapping people he cares about are not healthy and won't help him in the long run - but he doesn't fucking care, not when he can pepper kisses across your face and make you warm his cock with your pussy like any good specialist should. Fuck the boundaries and morality - Konig is convinced he can heal his social anxiety by banging his cute therapist. Surely, this is going to make him so much better as a human being. He is very good at breathing, exercises, and counting to ten when it involves plunging his cock deep into your warm pussy and making you milk him for all his worth. He is even better at listening to you when your words are muffled from his cock entering your mouth. If you really want to help him become a functional human being, you will have to adapt - and you will have to let him nuzzle in your chest and listen to his rambling about how much he fucking hated his parents and his old classmates. This man is a bundle of psychological curiosity, and you sort off feel like an explorer, trying to understand whatever the fuck is wrong with him. It's almost impossible to know, honestly - but you're trying to unwrap the layers of trauma settled in this man's head. While giving him head, yes. Konig keeps his pretty therapist chained to his bed and only ever lets you roam around when you're indulging in his mommy issues and domestic fantasies, creating a stable home environment that he never had as a kid. Playing his wife and a little bit of a caretaker, making sure he eats 3 meals per day, all of his snacks, and gets to fuck your pussy while you stroke his head and ask him how many people he killed on his last mission. It is fucked up - but it's a civil service in keeping this man in check.

#konig x reader #cod #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod

2K notes · View notes

myfictionaldreams · 1 year ago

Note

Slides in with a bucky request!

Can you do a possoves bucky? Like someone flirts with her and that leads to an argument that leads to to feelings coming out with marking dirty talk and rough sex? Pretty please

Always Watching // Bucky x Fem!Reader

Requested by: hey bestie, thanks for the request!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, possessive behaviour, obsession, jealousy, threats of violence, enemies to lovers, pining, unwanted attention, flirting, sexual harassment, arguing, rough kissing, biting, marking, scratching, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, overstimulation, light dom/sub, hair pulling, oral (f receiving), size kink

Words: 6.3k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The word used to describe your relationship with Bucky Barnes was ‘strained’. Strained because you’d prefer it if it were at least adequate, and no one could fault you for the attempts made at becoming his friend and helping him with the transition from the Winter Soldier to a member of the Avengers. In truth, you’d tried more than most to help him, especially as he was still at risk of being compromised and shifting back to the assassin’s mindset. You prided yourself on your compassion and empathy, always providing physical and mental support to Bucky, asking how he was, helping him move into the Avengers tower and adjust to going on missions.

Except, somewhere along the way, it had become evident that from at least Bucky’s perspective, you were a person to keep at arm’s length. Your questions would be ignored, and your attempts to help in medical situations would be pushed away. The only responses you’d receive were belittling comments or fierce glares that would have you backing away from the man and shutting your mouth. Even when you kept to yourself, his eyes always seemed to follow you around the room, eyes burning with what you assumed to be hatred, like he was plotting all the ways to eradicate you.

For some unknown reason, Bucky Barnes seemed to hate you, and you had no idea what you’d done to offend him. The other Avengers and agents you called your friends had all implored that he didn’t hate you, but when you stated the experience you’d received from the long-haired man, there was no response but an awkward close-lipped smile and shrug of the shoulders.

This treatment had been going on for months now, avoidance, glare and comments under his breath, and you were slowly getting to the end of your rope. Even earlier in the day, he somehow managed to get under your skin with only one sentence.

“Are you really going out in that dress?”

At first, you’d been embarrassed and somewhat mortified by his comment, wishing to cover up the beautiful dress that Natasha had helped you to pick that emphasised your body shape and the perfect colour to compliment your skin tone. Soon, the embarrassment changed to anger, finding the comment rude and unnecessary. Who was he to say what it was that you wore? Especially tonight, everyone had returned from a difficult mission and decided it was about time the team let their hair down and went to a nightclub for drinks.

Other than the comment, the rest of your night was amazing. You were feeling a light buzz from the alcohol and danced so much that your calves were beginning to burn from standing in the heels borrowed from Natasha. Even as you became lost in the music and masses of people squeezed into the club, you were still hyper-aware of the man watching you from where he was leaning against the wall.

“Does he even blink?” you shouted, attempting to be over the pounding bass to the red-haired woman you were dancing with.

Natasha tipped her head back and laughed, glancing over her shoulder a second later to assess the man who seemed to be staring at you constantly. Bucky didn’t even have the gall to look away in embarrassment, having been caught staring and that only made Nat’s smile widen as she turned back to you with a twinkle now in her eyes.

“You know why he’s staring”, she says matter of factly, swaying her hips as she talks into your ear.

Your eyes roll so hard that you have a momentary headache. “He does not have a crush on me. Can you please stop saying that? The man clearly hates me! I feel like my skin is burning from his stare, like he wishes me to combust spontaneously.”

After the tight-lipped smiles from your friends, they would often tease that maybe he was being so mean and hateful because he had a crush on you. You’d laughed initially, and some small part of you was hopeful that this was the case, but the more he belittled, embarrassed and ignored you, the more evident that was not the case.

“Maybe he’s just admiring the dress that I know he loves”, Natasha shouts confidently, grabbing your hand and twirling you around in an attempt to show off your outfit.

Despite her ridiculous statement, you laughed, “Well, he has an interesting way of admiring it! I’m going to go and get another drink. Do you need one?”

Natasha shook her head and held up her beer bottle, which was still over half full. Giving her one last smile, you made your way through the sweaty, head bobbing with the music until you finally found a free area at the bar, which was busy enough that you knew it would be a while before being served.

Someone pressed against your arm as a new person also had similar ideas to you, leaning on the bar and trying to get the staff’s attention with a click of his fingers. You took a deep breath to try and refrain from rolling your eyes at the arrogance of the man next to you, who was leaning on his forearm on the bar side.

“What are you having?” he shouted confidently with a grin, and it took you a good minute to realise he was talking to you.

“Oh, no, it’s ok. I’m getting my own drink; I’m sure it won’t take long”, you politely decline, turning your body away from him for a moment, hoping to catch the eye of the bar staff so you didn’t have to stay there any more with the guy next to you.

“Nonsense, pretty girl like you shouldn’t be buying your own drink. Come on, let me buy you a drink. I’m Chad, by the way”, he responds whilst sticking his hand out for you to shake. You stare at the hand before shaking it with a limp wrist, wanting to show that you aren’t enthusiastic about the conversation.

“Nice to meet you, Chad. I appreciate the offer, but I’m really fine buying my drink”. You pull your hand out of his grasp and try to take a step away, but there are so many people at the bar that there’s nowhere to go. Chad only moved closer, ignoring your discomfort as he leaned his face towards yours.

“Don’t be like that, Baby, it’s just a drink. Your dress is beautiful, by the way, it really makes your…eyes pop” As he spoke, he was not looking at your eyes as you crossed your arms to cover your chest. “Are you here alone? Maybe we can grab a drink and go somewhere beautiful; I’d love to get to know you on a more personal level”, Chad asked, lifting his fingers to stroke the apples of your cheeks.

“She’s not alone, and get your fucking hands off of her”, came an aggressive voice from behind as a warm chest brushed against your back.

Bucky pushed against Chad’s shoulder, giving him enough space to stand between the two of you, so now you’re staring at his back as he protectively became a shield for you.

“Hey man, what the fuck’s your problem! Who do you think you are, touching me like that?!” Chad shouted loudly enough that others began to turn and stare at the scene.

You could feel the thickness of the atmosphere, and there was nothing more you wanted to do than de-escalate the situation, not wanting Bucky to get into any further trouble as he was already being watched like a hawk by Shield.

“Bucky, please stop; everyone's staring!” you tried to pull on his arm, but he stayed completely still, ignoring you as he stared daggers at Chad.

The man looked between you and Bucky before settling on you and pointing at Bucky, “Is this guy bothering you? Listen, asshole, she clearly doesn’t want to be with you; otherwise, she wouldn’t have been out here buying her own drink, now would she? Why don’t you get lost so the pretty girl and I can get back to getting to know each other?” Chad smirked cockily.

This only made Bucky tense further, his posture straightening as he took a threatening step forward, and Chad flinched. Bucky’s gloved hands clenched at his side as you quickly did a visual check to see if he had any weapons, but you couldn’t see any in the suit jacket and jeans; you were sure he probably had them hidden up his sleeve.

Bucky took another step forward, nostrils flaring as anger radiated off of him in waves of heat, and genuine fear pooled in your stomach with how the situation escalated as you tried to push him away from Chad.

“If you ever touch her again, I promise you, I will fucking ruin your life. No, you know what, scratch that. If you so much as look at what’s mine again, there’s nowhere on this planet that you can hide; I will find you and end anything you find precious, including your life. Do you understand me?” Bucky asked, his tone surprisingly calm for promising such life-ending threats.

“What's going on here?” another voice joined the conversation as Steve and Tony appeared at your side, pushing the growing crowds back to give everyone space. You would have been thankful for their arrival had you not been staring open-mouthed up at Bucky. Not only was he threatening to kill someone for you, but you didn’t miss the possessiveness in his words and actions, and the biggest question screaming in your mind right now was what he meant by saying ‘what’s his’. Surely he didn’t mean you? Everything was becoming far more complicated than you’d anticipated.

“Is he compromised?” Tony asked in a hushed tone to you as he wrapped a hand around your upper arm, prepared to pull you away from the scene if needed.

Bucky’s eyes snapped to the hand on your arm, the glare moving to Tony’s face as the billionaire changed his stance to one like he was preparing for a fight. Your heart nearly stopped, everything becoming too overwhelming and escalating to a level that no one would be coming down from if it wasn’t stopped soon.

“No! Tony, he’s not compromised; he’s fine. There was just a misunderstanding-”

“A misunderstanding? Is that really what you are calling this situation?” Bucky demands, staring down at you whilst moving out of reach of Steve’s outreached hand.

“Bucky-” you try to reason with him, but you notice that his eyes have gone in the direction Chad seemed to disappear from. He was moving before you could even stop him, following wherever the guy had escaped. Quickly looking up at the confused Tony and Steve, you tried to reassure them whilst beginning to follow after Bucky. “Everything is fine! I’m just going to make sure he’s ok”.

You mostly needed answers than anything, feeling completely and utterly sober now and not wishing to return to the dance floor. As well as making sure that Bucky wasn’t going through with any of his threats.

You were going from being within a stuffy nightclub full of alcohol and dancing people with not enough room to move and music so loud that your voice had to strain to be able to be heard by others. To now, you’re rushing out of the entrance, out into the open air that was considerably colder, added to the fact that the heavens had opened and the rain was pouring enough that it was hard to see more than a few feet in front of you.

Any sane person would have turned right back around and reentered the club just to have some cover, but your adrenaline was pumping, and after a few seconds outside, you were already drenched, so there was no point trying to find the jacket you’d left in the cloakroom.

You follow in the direction Bucky had stormed off, trying to weave through the people running through the rain and past the busy New York traffic. “Bucky!” You called out for him while wrapping your arms around your chest, trying to keep some of the warmth you’d found in the club, but the more you were out in the open, the more the rain wholly soaked your body, drawing the freezing temperatures into your bones.

You stare at his back as he continues to walk with a purpose; you aren’t even sure if he’s following Chad anymore or just needs some air. You try your hardest to keep up, even with the struggle of the slippy wet floor and your ridiculous choice of heels burning your calves enough that you contemplated risking the sanity of the bottom of your feet by taking them off.

“Please, just wait, Bucky!” you shout to the man in front, who, of course, doesn’t slow down. You were at your wit's end, cold and drenched from the rain, confused by Bucky’s reaction in the club, not just from Chad but also the look from Tony grabbing your arm. There was clearly something more going on, and him running away, potentially on the warpath, was only making your anxiety increase to the point of wanting to scream.

Distracted with your rolling emotions, you hadn’t noticed that you were no longer following anyone as the street in front of you only had the occasional couple walking past with umbrellas over their heads.

You’d somehow lost Bucky.

“Shit!” you curse to the sky, letting the rain pour down over your face, unsure of what to do. You could return to the club, but you were now much closer to the tower than you were to the club and at least back at the tower, you could use Jarvis to assist with trying to track and find Bucky.

Before you could follow through with your decision, a gloved hand wrapped around your upper arm, pulling you quickly into an alleyway that had some shelter above your head, protecting you from the rain. Just as your mouth opened to scream and combat training reflexes moved to punch whoever had grabbed you, the movements were halted as you became face-to-face with a very pissed-off Bucky Barnes.

All air rushed from your lungs as you were forcefully pushed up against a wall as Bucky leaned his metal arm beside your head, leaning over you. Even though his blue eyes were burning with more intensity than you’d ever seen before, you still sighed in relief that he hadn’t rushed off somewhere, but now you just had to deal with the confrontation you were hoping for.

“Go back to the party”, he demands in a voice so low that you almost coward from him. Still, instead, you held your ground, pushing off the wall, expecting him to move back in a show of confidence, but he remained hovering close enough that it only meant that there were a few inches between your faces.

In the shadows of the alleyway, he looked threatening, especially with his bulky silhouette, but for some reason, he looked somewhat like a fallen angel. The fierceness in his swirling ocean blue eyes that devoured you completely, the height and strength that was trained through every single inch of muscle throughout his body, even his shoulder-length hair left unbound and dripping from the rain, gave him a mysterious look. It was nearly enough to distract you from the events that had taken place. Nearly.

“What? No! I’m not going back to the party. What even happened back there?”, you demanded, trying to remain as confident as you’d felt when leaving the club and not letting the adrenaline altogether go from your system.

Bucky looks away, towards the end of the alleyway in thought before finally muttering, “It was nothing”.

You scoff, “It wasn’t nothing! You threatened to kill the guy in there, Bucky! And what was all that with Tony? I saw the look you gave him! Oh, and what did you mean by touching what was his?”

To your shock, Bucky smirked, but his gaze was so vibrant when he turned back to look at you that, on instinct, you took the step back again to press against the wall. “I told you not to wear that stupid dress,” he says under his breath, like he is telling you a well-kept secret but is forcing himself to say the words.

You frown, your chest restricting, making it difficult to breathe. “The dress? Why do you hate this dress so much, I can wear whatever the fuck I want, Bucky! Stop trying to change the subject! Everything you do is so confusing. For months, you've acted like me even breathing in the same room as you is an inconvenience and then you’re threatening some asshole guy at the bar and protecting me? What’s that about?”

“Because I knew I’d have to be fighting off dickheads like him all night! That’s why I have an issue with the dress. When men like him take one look at you and assume that they have any right to even talk to you, let alone any of the other fucked up shit he was hoping to get from you”.

His outburst shocked you to the core, leaving you stunned and fumbling to think of any words. “I…I don’t understand where this is all coming from. Wait, aside from Chad, no one is allowed to talk to me? Who do you think you are to decide something like this? Maybe I want a cute guy to buy me a drink!”

“You’re naive if you think guys will only want to buy you a drink and nothing more”.

Your face heats uncontrollably at his words, hating the condescension lacing his words. “Don’t talk to me like that! Maybe that’s just what I want anyway. Someone nice to buy me a drink and treat me with kindness that clearly you won’t give me! So how dare you try to dictate my life by saying what I wear means you’ll have to be my knight in shining armour! You don’t have to do anything for me, these past few months have clearly shown you don’t give a shit about me so why care so much what people do to me?”

“You don’t understand”, he seeths through gritted teeth.

You want to scream in frustration from the lack of answers, letting all the energy form in your arms and hands as you pushed on his chest, needing some space between both of your bodies, but he was built of stone as he didn’t move at all.

“Then explain!” you shout in frustration, the heat and adrenaline returning to your veins. “Because I’m losing my fucking mind right now! Why do you act like you hate me one minute and save me another whilst acting like you have any sort of say as to what I wear and who touches or looks at me?”

“Because he touched what’s mine!” Bucky bellows, his face dropping close to yours as a vein bulges on his temple. “Call it jealousy, call is possessive, I don’t fucking care. Do you know how hard it is to see you in the line of fire at work and then come out to places like this and watch every guy and woman in this place have their eyes all over your body, wishing that they could have you? And then watching that asshole Chad come and talk to you, giving you those compliments and then having the nerve to touch you? He was a dead man walking”.

Your mouth opens and closes, feeling like you are having an out-of-body experience. “But… but you hate me”, you say, sounding as defeated as you felt.

Bucky scoffs again with less anger this time, the tone of his voice calming slightly as he leans closer, crowding you in his warmth. “I don’t have you, sweetheart, but I’m so fucked up in here”, he points to his head, “I can’t risk being near you”.

“Bucky-”

“Just go back to the party. I’ll call you a cab; just don’t follow me.”.

A lump forms in your throat. There’s no way you’re leaving him to go back to the club, and just as you’re about to tell him that, he’s suddenly dipping his head and cheek against yours so that he can whisper into your ear. “Just know that even though I’m not there, I’ll know if someone is looking at you. Your body is for my eyes only, so if anyone approaches, they’re dead”.

The breath hitches in your throat as your fingers clench, and you remember that they’re still resting on Bucky’s chest as you grip his shirt tightly. The warmth against your face retreats as he attempts to move back, and it is out of instinct that you glance towards his lips. You’ve never experienced anyone becoming possessive over you before. It should have had you running in the opposite direction, but your feet remained planted in that same spot, leaning towards the protective force in front of you.

Bucky then surprises you as you watch his frowning lips shift into a knowing smirk, laughing under his breath which causes a pulse of attraction through your cunt. “Oh Doll, you’re going to need to stop looking at me like that; otherwise, you won’t be returning to that party”.

A surge of confidence rocks through your core as your gaze burns into his intricate, beautiful eyes, “What if I don’t want to go back to the party?”.

You try not to jump away from the gloved hand, now cupping your jaw, tilting your face up towards the covering, shading you both from the continuing thrashing rain. The warmth of his breath skips over your exposed throat as he runs his nose along your skin, causing a shiver to rush down your spine. “You don’t mean that?” his tone had deepened and sounded increasingly strained, as if he was somehow holding himself back.

You weren’t entirely sure what was happening and how everything had changed to such a degree. All you were 100% certain about was that there was no way you would be going back to any party without Bucky.

“I mean it more than you could ever know”, you say with a rush of breath, finding it difficult to hold back the restraint to continue looking up entirely at his mercy simply.

Bucky contemplates your words as his nose drifts lower, and your heartbeat thumps hard in your chest. You are sure that you’ve felt the delicate kiss of his lips against the sensitive skin beneath your ear. “I think you like it when I show you who you belong to”, Bucky states with arrogance and sultry need that equally has your knees weakening.

The pure desire pooling in your underwear was becoming impossible to ignore, like a flame had been lit within your body and was slowly devouring your rational thoughts. A weak moan escapes your lips as your eyes drift close.

“Bucky…” you trail off, beginning to tremble, not from the low temperatures or being soaked through from the rain, but because your arousal had hit you so deeply that he consumed all thoughts.

“Yes?” Bucky asks as he laughs throatily at how you were so easy to succumb to his advances.

“Just fucking kiss me already!”

The pleasure and pain that enveloped your body was something that you’d crave and dream about for months to come. Pain because his lips pushing into yours with such force that your body was pushed back against the brick wall, but the overwhelming pleasure from finally feeling his mouth on yours, the hand gripping your jaw moving to the back of your head to cradle it with gentleness that you were surprised he as even capable of. The urgency didn’t end there, even as you finally received what you both had truly wanted for all of this time. You needed more of him, all of him, every single inch of his body you wanted to feel without the barrier of his clothes.

Bucky’s nose pushed into your cheek as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, both of your mouths opening to allow your tongues to dance and caress one another. You moaned, tasting the mint on his tongue and something that was so uniquely him your mind momentarily lost any coherent thought.

His massive body was pressed against yours so that you were consumed by him completely. Which also meant that you could feel the hardness of his arousal rutting into your stomach as he gently rolled his hips to try and relieve some pent-up frustration.

You were ready to give him everything, right there, in a random alleyway in rainy New York, where anyone could stumble upon the two of you. Thankfully, Bucky still could hold onto some restraint as he put some distance between you.

“As much as I’d love to fuck you in front of everyone, I have the sneaky suspicion that Fury would not be pleased if a member of the Avengers were caught having a quickie out in public”.

In any other situation, you probably would have laughed at the absurdity and realisation as to just how far gone you’d become to actually be ready to lift your dress and let him fuck you. However, you were so caught up in the fact that this was happening and hearing the beautiful man in front of you say that he wanted to fuck you in a public setting only added to the deep desire from his possessive tendency to increase.

Bucky pressed a chastising kiss to your temple as he began to shrug his jacket from his shoulders to then wrap it around yours, and you could have moaned at the warmth and mouthwatering scent of his cologne surrounding you. The man you thought hated you didn’t give you any time to lose your senses as he grabbed your hand and tugged you out of the alleyway and back into the startling freezing rain.

As the Avengers tower was only a couple blocks away, it was easier for the two of you to run in the rain, with his arm wrapped around your shoulders, using his big build to shield you somehow from the wetness, but you were already soaked.

Finally, once in the safety of the private elevator that was only used for residents of the tower, you both were once more consumed with each other. His jacket was pushed to the floor so he could run his gloved hands over your shoulders and back to cradle your face.

Your back was against the elevator wall as he crowded around you, trying to taste every possible area of your mouth. Your leg lifted, hooking around his hips and causing your dress to hitch further up your thigh until it rested around your waist, pulling him closer.

In this position, he was able to thrust his tented jeans against your panties, the rough material catching your clit and causing an obscene moan to echo around the small space. His lips left yours but only so that he could kiss down the side of your neck, causing more mewls and pathetic squeaks to leave your parted mouth.

“I want the whole world to know you’re mine”, he declares as his teeth scrap against the area where your shoulder and neck meet. The same part of you that was throbbing for his possessive tendencies needed him to do whatever he was alluding to. To persuade him to continue, you ran your fingers up his firm chest, scratching up his throat and to the nape of his neck so that you were able to grab a handful of his hair and tug him even closer.

However, arriving at the Avengers’ living quarters interrupted the two of you. Without missing a beat, Bucky's hands lowered to your thighs, picking you up so that your legs were now wrapped around his waist as he supported your weight with his hands on your arse.

Your fingers remained in his hair, pulling his face back to your neck as he began to suck on different areas, marking your skin with darkening, wet patches. The tiny reasoning voice at the back of your mind was warning you that you’d regret those marks tomorrow, but with the want and need to have his lips and teeth all over your body, you couldn’t care less if he was marking you.

Everything about his touch was seering in heat, even though those leather gloves still covered his hands. It was as if you could feel the temperature of his burning skin through the material, and it only made you more desperate to claw at his clothes. Equally, Bucky needed to feel more of your soft skin and learn every inch of your body.

You were only half aware that you’d entered his bedroom because the low lighting had naturally turned on by the building's sensors. It was minimalistic, and for a second, your focus zoned into the sheets and pillow led out on the floor and not on the bed, which was just a bare mattress that he all but dropped you into the centre of.

His lips were on yours again, and you were thoroughly distracted from the makeshift bed on the floor. The sharp sting of his teeth grazing your bottom lift caused you to mewl and pull on his hair, exposing his thick neck that gave you the opening to begin your exploration, licking and teasing until he was shivering and sitting back on his knees.

You admired him momentarily as he seemed to do the same for you. His handsome face was flushed with arousal, the pupils in his eyes so vast that it was almost as if the clear blue didn’t exist anymore. His chest was heaving with steading breaths as he began to pull on each of the fingers of his gloves.

“How expensive is the dress?” he asked, eyeing the cleavage that had been his downfall all night.

“It’s Natasha’s”, you answered breathlessly.

“I’ll buy her a new one”, Bucky mumbles, gripping the edges of the dress and tearing the material into two. You gave a startled scream as you were suddenly left in your underwear, but the shock at being exposed was swiftly distracted by him ripping his shirt directly down the centre so all the buttons popped off, and the material shrugged off his broad shoulders.

Even though this wasn’t the first time you’d seen him without a shirt on, your breath caught in your breath at his beautifully sculptured chest and abs, mouth already watering with the need to lick every inch of him.

“Be a good girl for me, Doll and spread your legs”, he demands with surprising gentleness, still sitting back on his knees and stroking a soft caress against your outer thighs.

A pathetic whimper bursts from your chest at the praise, pussy clenching with need that you didn’t waste a second before opening your legs. Even though you still had your panties on, Bucky's gaze became hungry, as if he was a man on the brink of starving to death as he licked his lip and began to lower his body.

“You don’t understand how long I’ve wanted to do this”, he admits, gripping the edge of your underwear and beginning to drag the material down your legs.

You smile to yourself, straightening yourself in the centre of the bed and getting comfortable as your legs naturally lay across his shoulders as he led stomach first on the bed.

“Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you”, you tease, but all the smug arrogance is drowned out by the pornographic scream from feeling his tongue taking a long, exaggerated lick from your perineum to your clit. You weren’t sure who was louder between the two of you with the moans as Bucky finally was able to taste the girl he’d been wanting for months and you for having someone actually wanting to give you some form of pleasure.

Every time you made a noise of pure joy or increased in volume, Bucky repeated the action, learning what you loved. Your thighs were nearly suffocating him with how hard they were squeezing around his face, and you knew that he would happily die right there between your legs if that’s what you truly wanted. Then there was the hair you were clenching, probably having ripped out two handfuls as you pulled on his long hair, hoping to have him as close as possible between your legs.

“Fuck Bucky! Who taught you how to do that- AH! I’m so close!” your back was arched, eyes clenched tightly closed as the pleasure was tightening within your core. His tongue lapped with quick flicks, firming the tip to add more pleasure as he pushed it into your dripping pussy. His moans added extra stimulation as you happily came all over his face, trembling and twitching cunt around his lips and tongue.

Just as Bucky was about to add two fingers into your still pulsing hole, you shouldn’t take the wait anymore and begged, “Please just fuck me already, Barnes!”

The Avengers grinned down at you as he began to crawl up your body, nipping each of your breasts with his teeth through your bra as he moved. Your cheeks warmed, seeing the shine over his stubble from your juices that he’d been happily drinking. Your thoughts didn’t remain on this fact for long though as he was kissing you feverishly once more, meaning you could now taste yourself on his lips.

With his mouth thoroughly distracting, you’d not noticed that he’d been unbuckling his belt and shoving his jeans and boxers down his toned thighs. Without waiting until they were entirely removed from his body, he swiped his cock between your folds, coating his length in your liquids.

Your mouth gaped open as the tip of his cock nudged into your entrance, stretching it to a level that you’d not been used to. “Shh, it’s ok, Doll, you can take me”, he promised, with one hand holding your hip steadily and the other against your cheek so he could hold your face still.

He was so deep, impossibly deep. You could feel him everywhere, widening your cunt until you were fluttering around his cock, and he hadn’t even begun fucking you properly yet.

“Nearly there, try and relax for me”, Bucky praises into your ear as your eyes widen, realising that it wasn’t even the entire length of him inside of you yet. Only as he was pushing into your cervix did your head fall back, and you sighed out. “That’s it, you’re taking me so well. Put your arms around my back; you’re going to need to hold onto something”, he boasts as you try and take a deep breath, your fingers reaching around his back, nails digging into the skin to give yourself something to hold onto.

Spreading his knees further apart on the bed, Bucky readjusts his position to gain more momentum. The man fucked good. More than good. You were pretty much pleading incoherently to whatever gods were above or below. There wasn’t anything you were begging for, just whatever it was that Bucky seemed to be doing, that it never stopped.

Each stroke caressed that sweet spot within, and with the way his hips rolled, he was able to nudge your clit with his body. Added to the mouth on your neck, biting and licking the sore spots to ease the ache, his hands pinning you down to the bed only added to the raw possessiveness dictating Bucky’s movements.

Harder and faster, his hips moved. The thick cock pounding into your cunt until you were seeing stars and cumming again, squeezing him so hard he had to still his hips to stop his own orgasm from spiralling.

But then, he's pulling out and turning you onto your front, spreading your legs once more and demanding, “Arch your back for me, Sweetheart”. Doing as he instructed, your still-covered breasts pressed into the mattress as your hips angled up. With one hand holding onto your shoulder and the other on your hip, he began to fuck you with just as much enthusiasm.

In this position, he somehow felt even more deeper, and all you could do was cry out and moan with how good he felt.

“Tell me you’re mine, I need to hear you say it”, Bucky grunts as you came for the third time, becoming overstimulated and disorientated with how good you felt.

Your cunt was still squeezing with the effects of the orgasm as you repeatedly told him, “I’m yours, only yours, Bucky”.

Bucky’s head tilted back so that he could release an almighty grunt, the hands on your body tightening enough that the skin became tender, but you didn’t care at all, not with how good you were feeling. You could feel his cock throbbing and the wetness that followed, dripping from your hole and onto the mattress beneath.

It was a long few minutes before he eased out and collapsed onto the mattress beside you, the two of you breathing heavily as his metal fingers stroked slowly down your spine and his lips followed.

“You should have told me earlier”, you whisper over your shoulder to him.

“Hmm?” he asks, moving up to your shoulder, where he carefully kissed the skin that was tender from his grip moments before.

“You should have told me how you felt”, you explain, thinking about how much time was wasted.

“Maybe. But then, I wouldn’t have had so much fun threatening everybody for looking at you”, he answers with a grin, kissing your cheek once before climbing off the bed and returning with the sheets from the floor.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #marvel smut #bucky barnes one shot #jealous bucky #bucky barnes x reader #marvel one shot #bucky #mine*

4K notes · View notes

callumsturn · 8 months ago

Text

Sweet John

Summary: John keeps finding ways to stop by the hospital to see you, until he finally gets what he wants.

Pairing: Major John "Bucky" Egan x female reader Content/Warnings: John Egan being a charming bastard, 18+ smut (minors don't interact), unprotected sex. This starts real innocent, but it's really not. Notes: If you have any requests you’d like me to write please let me know! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you!

As you're helping wounded soldiers, rushing through the corridors of the campaign hospital at base, you bump into none other than Major John "Bucky" Egan.

You look up to see his smug smile. "Sorry, sweetheart." His hand gently over your arm as a way to balance you.

If you didn't know better, you'd even believe he might have done it unintentionally.

"It's alright Major." You tried to rush past him, with towels in both your arms to the end of the corridor.

"You shouldn't carry all that yourself." He takes half of the load from your arms. "Let me help. It's the least I could do."

He carries on up the corridor, following close behind you. You turn your head to him for a few seconds. You know you should be resisting. But he's very, very persuasive. Even when his uniform is covered with blood.

"You have blood on your uniform." You simply state.

"Oh, yeah." He shrugs, not bothered to wipe it off. "You know how it is." he tells you "Can't even breathe at battle without getting some blood splashed on you." He looks at you. "You've got some on you as well."

You look down at your own white uniform. "It has seen better days, yes." You continue to walk to the end of the corridor, entering one of the patient rooms.

John follows after you and looks around as soon as you're inside. "Oh, you're taking these to..." he trails off a bit as he sees who's laying in that bed. One of the men from his squad.

"Hi Sergeant. How are we feeling?" You spoke to the man resting on the bed.

The Sergeant looks up at you. "I've been better." As soon as he sees the Major behind you he tries to sit up, still a bit shaky. "Major." he says, his voice hoarse.

"I'm gonna clean that open wound and switch it up, is that alright?" you asked the man in the bed.

"Thank you, miss." he adds as you begin to gather your tools.

You can feel the Major's gaze on the back of your head as he watches from the doorway.

"It's gonna hurt a little. Take this." You hand the patient a bottle of alcohol to drink.

He takes it, grunting a little from the pain of just moving. He takes a sip and sets the bottle down. As you pour liquid over the wound to clean it, the Sergeant's leg moves in pain. He grunts loudly and moves in his bed. You feel the Major aproach the bed and hold the Sergeant with no trouble. He tries to move again but the Major's grip is firm.

"It's alright. Just hold still now." Major Egan tries to calm the man. You see the compassion and concern on his face. His hand is still on the Sergeant's lower body, ready to steady him again if necessary.

You say nothing, continuing to clean the wound and prepare the needle to stitch. The Major remains close. He watches you work, and his focus is almost entirely on exactly that. The Sergeant squirms in the bed again, but the Major remains in place.

"Easy." the Major tried to calm him down.

"Almost done, Sergeant." you mention as you finish stitching him up.

"Th- thank you." The Sergeant glances toward the Major. "She's real good, I'm telim' ya, sir."

You chuckle as you begin bandaging his wound. "Now... you shouldn't get up. Just try to rest and no missions for a few days. This needs to heal properly."

"Roger that, nurse." the Sergeant replies with a smile. "Will do." he finishes. "Could I get some more of that bottle, though? You know how it is."

You smile as you hand him the bottle for the second time. He takes another sip, as you hear Major Egan chuckle, keeping his eyes on the man and then on you as you put the remainder of the supplies away in a near medical cart, back turned to both men.

"She's pretty, ain't she, sir?" the Sergeant asks his Major who's sitting beside him still, in a lower voice.

As you barely hear the Sergeants comment, you tried to pay no attention to it, not curious to hear the Major's response.

You hear the Major chuckle again. "She is. I'm sure she's even got herself a fella already. Some lucky bastard."

"Probably some high rank fella, too." the Sergeant continues jokingly.

"Not a high enough rank for that, no." You barely hear Major John say.

As you finish storing all utensils, you approach both men again. "You rest up Sergeant. I'll tend to other soldiers now."

The man thanks you, as he rests his head back on the pillow and closes his eyes. The Major still has his gaze on you as you walk past him.

You continue to go about your shift, working on other patients in other beds. You do your best to ignore the Major's gaze when he is watching you from afar.

"Am I under some kind of evaluation, Major?" You asked unfazed, not looking at him, but still tending to a patient.

Somewhat caught off guard by the question, the Major's calm demeanour slips a bit. "Uh... no. I was-" he clears his throat "Just... checking up on... on your patient care."

"On my patient care?" You chuckled. "How's that going then?"

"It's going very well." he replies a little too quickly.

"Well I'm glad." You paused. "Thank you for the help back there."

"Any time." he replies. You see that he wants to say something else, but stops himself. "You've got everything under control in here then?"

"Sure thing."

"Great." He clears his throat again. "I'm..." He's having trouble finding the right words. "I'll let you get back to work then."

"Thank you, Major."

"Yeah. Sure, no problem." He finally leaves the room. You don't see him again for a while, but notice his eyes on you several times over the rest of the week or so.

A few weeks passed and the hospital became less busy. Patients were recovering and the missions were being successful over all. You notice the change. It's more peaceful, which is just what both you and the soldiers needed.

But there is one thing that has changed your routine. Major John "Bucky" Egan has been coming by to see you more often. And each time he does, he stays a little longer and talks a little more. He always makes sure to pay careful attention to everything you say, and always makes an effort to keep the conversation going. You can feel the other nurses and doctors giving you disguised looks, wondering if there's something going on with the two of you.

The Major even shows up when you're not working, and seems to hang around to see when you start your shift or finish for the day. He's always just hanging back, not being too obvious about it. You found it quite charming actually, the effort he would go into just to talk to you for a little while. It was definitely flattering. He's a handsome man, and he's got a certain charm and confidence about him that you can't help but like. Although you're still unsure how to feel about all of the attention, and that uncertainty definitely shows on your face as he approaches you yet again, and starts up another conversation.

"Major Egan." You say after he approaches you.

"Nurse." he replies with a polite smile. He's carrying a coffee mug and offerts it to you. "I figured you might be tired after your shift."

You gladly accepted it. "That's incredibly thoughtful of you."

"I try." he shrugs his shoulders with a smile. You can see his gaze still on you as you take the mug. For a little while he doesn't say a thing, just watching you as you take a small sip from the cup.

Suddenly, he clears his throat a little and speaks again. "I was wondering... there's a cafe outside the base... I though it'd be nice to go there and get something to eat." he says. He's still looking you straight in the eyes while saying it, his body relaxed and his hand resting casually on the mug. "Would you like to join me?" he adds after a moment.

"Right now?" you ask calmly.

He nods after a moment. "If you'd like." he responds. "We could both do with getting some real food. Maybe something more comforting than camp rations." He gives you a small smile, still watching you carefully as he waits for your answer.

You smiled at him for a second. "I'd like that."

His smile grows a little wider. "Great." He starts to back away. "I'll... I'll head out there now." he says "I'll be waiting just outside. The cafe's not far."

"I'll be right there." you smile.

He gives you one more little smile before making his way outside and waiting just out front of the camp, leaning agaisnt the wall and looking out the gate.

You head to the locker room where you find a colleague. You head inside to change out of your work clothes.

"Hey there." she grins "how have things been with you?"

"Good." you smile.

"Major's been going around again today, hasn't he?", she asks, glancing over at you.

"Um... yeah, he has." you continue to change into your clothes.

"Yeah, I figured as much. He coming around more often now? Spending more time talking to you?"

You chuckle, embarrassed. "I guess, yes."

"Well, I figured he had a thing for you" she laughs. "It was only a matter of time before he started getting a little flirtatious. He's not very good at hiding it."

"I think he's just being nice." you said as you buttoned your shirt.

"Sweetie, he's more than just nice. Major Egan has a reputation aroud here, you know. He doesn't go around being sweet to just anyone."

"Well, I don't know. I don't want everyone to go around and talk about this. The other nurses are real nosy!"

"Oh cm'on, don't worry. They'll just tease you a bit if they can tell that something's going on. And besides, nothing exciting happens around the hospital, so they cling to anything." she paused "But you're lucky. The Major's a looker, and I'm sure that you wouldn't mind his attentions, huh?" She gives you a playful nudge as she asks.

You chuckle as you looked at her. "He really is a looker isn't he?"

"Hell yeah he is." she laughs "A real man after my own heart. And the more things continue like this between you guys, the more certain I am that you might be the lady that gets to keep him to herself."

"Well, I don't know about that."

"Oh, come on. Just look at him. Just waiting right outside for you."

"Alright now. Enough of this." you said as you put your coat on. "I'm heading out."

"I'll see you back here later." she chuckles as you head out.

You find Major Egan just where he said he'd be. As you pass him and make your way to the gates outside, he starts walking with you, keeping his hands in his pockets.

"That's your work done for the day?" he asks casually.

"I have to get back in a few hours.... night shift."

"Ah... sure. Night shift. Busy workload tonight?"

"I don't think so."

He keeps his hands in his pockets the entire time, but he seems comfortable, confident, and content. "I bet it'll get busy in there." he adds, pointing to the cafe. "They have some of the best coffee and food around here."

"Have you been there lately?" you ask.

"It's been a little while now." he replies. "I had some time off last night and was going to go there, but I ended up making a stop by the hospital." he shrugs a little. "Had to see if you were looking after these soldiers properly, of course." he adds jokingly, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Yeah, you've been a real caring Major these last few weeks."

"Well, I was just making sure you were up to the task of caring for our troops." he continues.

"Oh, your soldiers never complained."

He smiles at your comment. "Glad to hear it." He looks at you again, a small grin on his face. "Or maybe it's just that they have something nice to look at while they're recovering?"

"Alright now Major Egan."

"Oh come on, why don't you just call me John, hm?"

You looked at him for a couple of seconds. "If you're sure."

He gives you a little nod, still smiling. "Absolutely."

You approach the cafe and he holds the door open for you as you walk inside.

The cafe is busy as John said it'd be. Off duty soldiers fill the place with their drinks, raised voices and the smell of cigars. Most of them are playing a game of cards at the tables. Several are chatting and laughing with each other, making it a very lively environment. Major Egan steps inside and closes the door behind him.

"It is busy, isn't it?" he asks as he guides you to an empty table. He holds your seat out for you before sitting down across from you. "You don't mind it being so busy, do you?"

"Not at all."

He smiles, his hands still in his pockets. A waiter comes to your table and takes your order. John asks you what you want and then orders for you. You just smile politely at the waiter before he heads off.

"I'm glad you agreed to come with me this afternoon." he says after a moment in silence. You notice him leaning forward on the table as the conversation continues. He seems quite calm, but you can tell how focused he is on you.

At one point, one of the soldiers at another table glances over at the two of you, and then nudged the others at the table. There's a murmur of conservation and a few more glances as the others take note of the Major and the nurse sitting together again.

The Major doesn't seem to notice though. It remains a lighthearted conversation, but there's an undercurrent of something a little bit more going on underneath the surface.

Before either of you realize, both of you have been talking to each other for half an hour. The Major shows no signs of losing interest in the conversation.

After a while, a couple first year Sergeants approach the table curiously, excitedly presenting themselves to John.

"Major Egan, sir!" the first says confidently.

"Major." the second follows. They both glance at you a tad nervously.

The Major looks up at them and smiles, still sitting at the table casually. "At ease, gentlemen" he says, raising his hands off the table, but still relaxed.

"Sir, a few of the men were wondering if they could get an extended leave, due to the successful mission earlier today."

The Major stares at the first Sergeant for a second, and his eyes dart over to you. He's still smiling a little, but there's a serious side to him that comes through as he talks with them.

"I understand that you were planning on extending their leave to allow them to rest?" he replies to both men.

"Yes, sir." the first replies "if that's alright with you, sir?"

"It's alright, Sergeant." the Major nods again. "There'll will be no issue on my part in regards to that. How many days are you looking at?" he asks, looking between the two Sergeants.

"Around a week" one of them replied boldly "if that's fine with you sir?"

"A week, hm?" he stares at them for a moment. "A week should be sufficient for them to recharge, especially after a mission like this morning. Make it happen."

The Sergeants both nod their heads. "Yes, sir." They both give you a resrpectful salute before turning back around and walking to the larger table.

"Major Egan..." you say mockingly. He was so different when he talked to you.

He glances over at you with a little half grin. "Yeah?" He laid back in his chair as he waits for you to continue.

"And just when I was about to call you John." You say.

He chuckles softly at that. "Go ahead and call me John. If anyone around here is going to call me that, it should be you." he took a sip from his beer.

That gave you a chill down your spine, out of nervousness.

He sees that he has gotten some sort of reacting out of you, but that smile still remains on his face. "Go ahead, call me John."

"Alright, stop that." you chuckle.

"I just want you to call me by my first name. Is that too much to ask?"

You look at him in the eyes for a second, before smiling. "In here?"

"Here" he pauses "or anywhere else if you'd like." He lays back and continues to smile. That damn smile.

As you take in his comment, music starts to blast and all the soldiers rise from their seats and grab the women to dance. The cafe instantly becomes an athmosphere of fun and liveliness.

The Major glances over at the dance floor. "Would you like to join me?"

You nod your head shyly, and take John's hands as he pulls you into the dance floor. The music is a classic swing tune, and the soldiers all seem to know the moves perfectly, moving with rhythm and flow in a very playful mood.

Major Egan seems to be familiar with the dance, and as he moves with you his confidence and skill is undeniable. He leads you easily, gently pulling you around and twirl you in his arms, and all the while, he stays completely focused on keeping you steady, stable.

"You're a good dancer." he tells you, still smiling playfully as he does. He spins you around in his arms and then back around again, pulling you close enough so that his face is inches from yours. He's still maintaining a comfortable distance between you two, but it's evident that he wants to be so much closer.

The music begins to pick up more, and as it does, his moves become just a little bit more intimate and playful. His arms around your waist. It's clear that he's more than just enjoying the dance.

Moving his hands down to your hips as he holds you, not giving you quite as much space as before. He tilts his head and gets closer to your face, maintaining that same playful grin.

"Careful, John." you say over the music, teasing him.

He chuckles at the teasing, but he doesn’t pull away, nor does he stop dancing with you.

His movements get a little bit more playful now, bringing you in even closer.

"John..." you begin.

“Yes?” He stares at you with that same grin on his face, but his eyes have become more intense now, as if wanting to know where this is going.

"Kiss me." you ask.

His eyes remain on you as he stares quietly for a second, but then he finally leans in to meet your offer. There is nothing playful or light-hearted about this exchange. This is a serious and bold moment for the both of you. Major Egan goes completely for it, pressing his lips against yours. And as he does, his hands moves to your hips and pulls you even closer to him. The kiss was slow but eager, like weeks of tension have been building up. Every movement and gesture felt intentional. His hands on your hips feel more intense and firm now. You pulled back and heard the music echo.

The moment of silence was deafening.

The music was no longer all that you could think about. He stares back at you, clearly still wanting more, but he holds back from following through in that very moment.

"Let's go." you say looking up at him.

He doesn't answer, but simply nods his head. He takes your hand in his own, and together, the two of you exit the dance floor and leave the cafe. As soon as you hit the street night air, John grabs your hand and pulls you close again, his lips finding his way to yours. Your bodies are pressed against one another, and the intimacy of the moment is undeniable. His lips find yours again, this time, more eagerly. And he lingers for a second or two, savoring the kiss. This time, it feels like he’s taking it further, as his hands start moving down to your waist more playfully.

“You wanna take me to bed?” You simply say.

He looks back at you, a bit amused at the question, but also somewhat surprised that you had the boldness to suggest that.

He stares for a second, his lips partially parted. “Yeah. I do.”

His answers are blunt and straightforward. But there’s also a confidence and assertiveness about him that makes it very evident that he is completely and totally up for that idea.

You smiled. He smiles back at you, before leaning forward to take your hand again. But this time, he doesn't just hold your hand. He interlocks his fingers with yours, his hand more possessive now as he glances down at your interwined fingers.

He leads you back into the base, guiding you towards his quarters.

The silence between you two is punctuated with little whispers and small talk here and there, but overall, the atmosphere is very much still intimate and playful between the two of you.

You noticed your environment. You've never been in this part of the base before, as it was only reserved for the Majors. It’s clear that this is a very private side of the base, for these higher ranking officers to be able to relax in the company of their women.

As you walk down the corridor, you hear the song My Funny Valentine by Chet Baker echoeing from a hall near by. Major Egan guides you through the hallway, the two of you still following hand in hand, until you both finally arrive at his room. You enter and before you could assimilate the space around you, John grabs your waist from behind, spins you around and you watch him close the door behind him so effortelessly, just before he kisses you gently, but passionately.

Everything around you has become a blur now, but you feel his hand on your back, leading you closer to his bed.

You start to walk backwards as he guided you. You put your arms around his neck, looking for support as he kisses you eagerly now. You jump, clinging into his body, as he grabs the back of your legs with his hands, easily supporting your weight. You moan quietly as he starts to feel your skin under your skirt as he holds you with both his hands.

John exhales soundly. "God..." he trailed off "You even sound beautiful."

His lips attack yours once again, filled with desire. His comment gave you chills all over your body. You felt him sit on the bed, you now straddling his lap. Being this close to him left you intoxicated, even speechless. You had nothing to say to him. Your attempts seemed to only come as careless whispers or moans as he explored your body with his hands.

"John..." you finally spoke.

You felt him smile into the kiss. "Yes?"

You took a second to answer, processing his touch. "Fuck me." You finally said.

He couldn't hide his smile. "I wanted to do this right." he paused as you looked at him. "I wanted to make love to you first."

The smirk plastered on his face made you melt. His eyes glistening with adoration for you.

You retributed the smile. "Sweet John..." you began tracing his features with your fingers. "Please do that."

You saw his smile grow slightly wider just before he closed the gap between both your lips.

He held you closer, his grip on you more firm, but never once hurting you.

“I imagined this moment a lot.” He confessed.

You began to take his uniform off. His shoulders so broad and his arms like two comforters around your torso. He did the same with your clothes but taking his sweet time to take in every little detail about you. The curve of your neck, the shape of your breasts and the freckles on your skin. Most of all he noticed the way your expression changed slightly when you became blushed with arousal.

His pants were bothering you, they were in the way. Your hand flew to his belt, trying to unbuckled it with no success. You saw him chuckle, surprisingly out of nervousness, as he helped you take it out. You always thought the Major John Egan would be swift in these manners, he had experience after all. It was the only thing nurses talked about, how much luck he had with women, inside or outside base. Was it so hard to believe that he could be actually nervous because you were the one unbuttoning his pants and trying to discard them? That was hard to grasp.

John grabbed the low of your back with one arm, supporting the other on the bed to lay you on top of it. He stood sat on the bed even after kicking his uniform pants, watching as you lay naked waiting for him to join you.

His expression was a mix of desire and adoration.

"What is it?" You asked laughing.

He shook his head slightly. "Nothing." he opened his mouth for a second before speaking. "I just think you're the most beautiful thing I've seen walk this earth."

You visibly blushed. How could you not? "You're just saying that because-" he interrumpted you immediately.

"Clothed or not." He said plainly, guessing the rest of your phrase. He looked at your face for a couple of seconds, and you did the same with difficulty. He was so handsome, his hair dischevelled falling perfectly on his forehead.

Not bearing it being away from him one more second, you grabbed his hand and pulled him to lay on top of you, opening your legs, allowing for him to fit in the empty space.

He immediately kissed you, your bodies now glued to each other. You could feel his hard member press against your core. You bent your kness, allowing him access. Your way of letting him know what you wanted.

He positioned himself at your entrance, ever so carefully. He looked at your expression as you gasped slightly, feeling him. He then kissed you gently, but eagerly, as he pushed himself inside you, slowly. Your mouth hang open as you threw your head slightly back on the pillow. He looked down at you, and he swore he could come undone right then and there, watching you in that blissful state.

You felt his lips on your neck, beginning in the low of your jaw until the base of your neck. You exhaled when you felt his touch and he could feel the vibrations of your voice on his lips.

His thrusts were purposely slow so you could adjust to his size. Soon enough he started to go deeper as you dig your nails in his upper back muscles.

"Faster." You pleaded, your voice only coming out as a low whimper.

He could hear it alright. John picked up his pace and you moaned louder as you felt every inch of him molding you.

"You feel so good." you heard him say between grunts into your lips.

You brought your lips to his, kissing him deeply. You broke it to speak finally. "John..." you called out his name. "I'm- I'm close."

"I know sweetheart, I know you are." his voice intoxicated you with desire, you could barely control yourself. "I can feel you closing on me." he continued thrusting in and out at that perfect pace. "You can let go... I wanna see that perfect face when you cum."

That was enough for you to explode. You soon came undone, your voice a higher pitch when you moaned his name a couple of times. You felt his warm release spill inside you. His face inches away from yours, mouths open, exhaling as you both reached your high. The moment that followed seemed like completely silent, only your breaths almost in perfect sync.

He smiled after noticing tears of pleasure in the corner of both your eyes, kissing each one of them away from your face. You both moaned when he removed himself inside you, both still very much overstimulated.

He laid next to you, immediately pushing you into his chest, arms wrapped around you. There were no words needed. You guys didn't have to talk about what happened. It was clear.

A few minutes were passed in silence. You looked at the clock on his wall, which marked almost twelve.

"Shit, I have to go. The night shift." you grabbed a bed sheet instinctively to cover yourself as you sat up, looking for your clothes scattered on his bedroom's floor.

"No." his voice lingered, pulling you back on the bed again. "You're staying here tonight."

You smiled as you looked at his sleepy expression. "I don't think that's up for you to decide. The doctors do our schedules, I have to show up to work."

His voice became deeper with tiredness. "I'm Major Egan. I can make a few calls." He suggested, his voice now more playful. "If you'd like to stay here with me tonight." his demeanour expectant.

You looked at him for a couple of seconds, giving thought to his offer. A smile escaped your lips, as you lay in the bed again, slightly embarrassed.

"They can get by without you one night. I can't." he admitted while wrapping his arms around your torso, setting the covers on top of you both.

1K notes · View notes

ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago

Text

(y/n) gifting Geto sweets against the bad taste of curses

Pairing: Geto x reader

Word Count: 1,1k

Synopsis: Being used to the fact that nobody seems to care about how awful curses taste, Suguru Geto is absolutely blown away when you start noticing and bringing him candy after each and every mission.

Warnings: (y/n) has a really bubbly personality in this, pure fluff and no Geto going berserk

Thank you anon for your cute request 🤍

„Oh, there you are! I searched everywhere for you!”, you shout cheerfully, your steps hollering down the dark alley.

Suguru would recognize that oh so sweet voice out of a million, his heartbeat picking up in an instant. It’s you. You’re really here.

“What are you doing here, (y/n)?”, he questions softly.

“Well, I don’t know. I had to steal myself away since Yaga-sensei strictly forbid me to run after you again while you’re on a mission. He said something about getting hurt or killed…But that doesn’t stop me! I brought you something salty to eat!”, you announce proudly, stretching out your hand with a little package inside it.

“Did you really come all the way here just to give me that? You don’t have to gift me something to eat. And on top, you don’t need to get yourself in danger for something unimportant like that.”

“Oh, but it’s not unimportant! After all, swallowing those curses doesn’t taste good, right?”

His gaze meets yours. Suguru never talked with anyone about the breath-taking disgusting taste these things left in his mouth for hours, how it takes all his strength to not throw them back up in an instant. After all, no one ever asked him about this. It seems like it has always been enough that he was able to absorb them for everyone else.

“Why would you think that?”

But how…how on earth do you know? Even though Suguru talks with you a lot about everything and everyone, he never talked about this with you. Hell, not even with Satoru.

“That face you make afterwards, scrunching your eyes just the tiniest bit while pressing your lips together. And I mean, what would curses taste like? Certainly not like sugar and candy, right? And I guess it’s like garlic: you’ll have the taste in your mouth for hours! But at least garlic tastes good when used right. Man, I really want some garlic noodles right now… Are you in the mood to grab something to eat? I know you’re quite busy, but-”

Suguru can’t help but stare at you, the foul taste left on his tongue pushed into the background. You with your bubbly personality made of pure gold. You, who came all the way here just to give him something to eat. You, the only person walking on this earth who ever took the time to think about how it must feel to swallow a curse.

Just you.

“It’s like eating a vomit-soaked rag. That’s what they taste like.”

Your doe eyes dart towards him, reflecting nothing but compassion. Before he is able to think straight you’re standing right in front of him, hand pressing the little package into his much larger one.

“No one should have to taste something like this on a regular basis. But maybe…Oh, I have an idea! Let’s make a pact.”

“A pact?”, he repeats in disbelief.

What are you up to? And why is your smile suddenly as bright as the sun?

“A pact! I promise to always have something to eat for you when you tell me about your missions in exchange!”, you announce proudly.

“This doesn’t seem fair to me at all. You don’t have to follow after me just to give me something nice to eat.”

It seems so crazy, almost unbelievable to him that another human being would be willing to sacrifice its precious time for him. Don’t you understand that this promise would mean traveling after him every day and night multiple times? Don’t you understand that you are too good for that? Especially you, the ray of sunshine at Jujutsu High. You, the girl everyone talks about, the girl that even Nanami secretly adores. Why would someone like you take special care of him?

“What isn’t fair is that you have to go through something like this every single time. I really admire you, Suguru. Just the smell of something disgusting makes me gag. Just thinking about eating something that tastes so horrible multiple times a day…You really are a hero! And every hero deserves some sweets! Oh wait…Are you actually into sweets? I can bring you something salty as well.”

“Satoru prefers sweets-“

“But I’m not asking about Satoru”, you interrupt him immediately.

“I’m asking about you.”

He isn’t able to respond. No, Suguru is absolutely captivated by your kind smile and the way you still hold onto his hand, the package in his palm feeling sweaty just by one look into your innocent eyes.

You…you really noticed. And not only that, you really do care about him.

“Go ahead, take a bite! I wonder what you think. I was never really a fan of salty snacks, but these ones are really good”, you explain all too excited.

Hesitantly, he rips open the package and allows himself to get a taste. Oh, this feels like heaven on earth, the saltiness of what seems like crackers hunting away the stinging taste of vomit in his mouth. But what intrigues him the most is you. How you stand in front of him, swaying back and forth in excitement while your eyes follow every move of his mouth, literally glowing in joy.

“These are really good”, he finally confesses.

“Thank you, (y/n). Now everything just tastes good.”

And so it did every following mission. Instead of feeling disgusted by only the sight of a curse, Suguru somehow feel…excitement. Excitement because swallowing a curse means meeting you afterwards. Excitement because he’ll get to taste a new sort of candy or sweets almost every single day. Excitement because slowly but surely, he fell head over heels for your striking sight.

“Those are a speciality around here! I heard some of the others talk about that shop yesterday and thought you might want to try it as well.”

The candy melts on his tongue right away, making him wonder what you taste like while your pretty mouth happily keeps on telling him everything about that shop. It is so easy to get lost in your sight, lost in your talking, last in your personality.

“(y/n).”

He takes a step forward, putting the other piece of candy you handed him over in his pocket. Your eyes widen in the most delicate way, cheeks turning rosy just by one glimpse into the chocolate brown ocean of his eyes.

You always loved the taste of sweets on your tongue, how your nerves began to tingle just the slightest bit. But in this moment, you realized that tasting Suguru Geto was way better than that. He wraps his arms around you gently, pressing his lips against yours ever so slightly. You feel like fainting, flying, giggling. What a precious man he is, how long you imagined how it must feel to kiss your secret crush. But oh, the reality is so much better.

“I love you more than any candy on this planet.”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @itsmonicabc

2K notes · View notes

roll-for-gaslight · 1 month ago

Text

have to talk about Sam and Evan and Jammer and K and the genius character choices made in the previous episode because it was all so good. It was so goo. Evan Kelmp fucking died. Holy shit.

We're going to start with Evan, because he's the one who died and I can't stop thinking about the image of Shadow Evan slowly collecting his things that K threw around and putting on his nice shoes. Putting his belongings back in his backpack because even if he's dead his things matter because they were the only things he had. Brennan's acting in that moment as well, stretching his arms out to mimic a shadow's distortion in a two-dimensional space and being so confused and out of it for the first several minutes due to shock. He wants to be alive, to be good, to have friends, but he can't even consider the idea that they might want him back. He can't think too hard about whether he truly belongs to them the way they belong to him.

Sam, who loved Evan so deeply that even when he is literally a shadow of himself she smiles at him like he is the whole world. Jammer is freaking out and K can't look at him at all but Sam sees him, knows him, and loves him, any amount of him she can have because Shadow Evan is better than Dead Evan. She's scared but she knows he must be even more scared then she is so when he asks if she can carry him of course she says yes. Danielle Radford I love you and your choice to have radical compassion, such a deep kindness and care within Sam that se does everything within her power to bring Evan back, being careful and risking nothing because she can't just leave her friend like that and she can't lose him. Sam builds the community around herself through that same compassion, helps everyone, loves everyone, but in this episode the full force of that love is narrowed to only focus on Evan and getting him back no matter what.

Fucking Whitney Jammer. "We'll body it." I think about that scene from s1 every single day and that is exactly what he did. Oh, Evan died? We'll fucking fix it. That's the mission now. We'll body it. He made a promise and he's going to keep it. He's furious, and I feel like while he may not have known where to direct it in the moment he may end up having conflict with K because of what happened. Also, just the image of Jammer, not facing his friends and not wanting to turn around to see what happened because if he sees it then its real, then when he does turn around just doing the only thing he knows how to do, taking care of his team.

And K. K, my beloved... Erika Ishii is a genius in every season, every campaign, every role, but I love this new version of K who just can't deal with the idea that they are not a one-man army. They can not fix the world, they can not be as isolationist as they have always wanted to be, they can not single-handedly dole out justice in every situation. They are not the secret dark chosen one who's extra special. They need their friends, their people, need their network. They can't look at Shadow Evan because they know the whole time that it's their fault. They did it again, they broke magic, they killed Evan. They always make the wrong move. I think a lot of this season for them is going to be about slowing down, being forced to take things one step at a time, accepting help, and eventually rebuilding confidence.

539 notes · View notes

gojonanami · 1 year ago

Text

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 - 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

summary: it's gojo's birthday, and he can't help but reflect on what birthdays have meant to him over the years, especially the year you decide you don't really want to do anything for his birthday (but it turns out you do).

contents: angst then fluff, i promise there's a happy ending, you just have to earn it, shibuya does not happen in this timeline, instead we celebrate gojo, slightly angsty, reflections on events of jjk 0, crack, all of gojo's students (aside yuta and hakari and rirara make an appearance), mentions of sex/pregnancy, innuendo

word count: 2,821

December 7, 1989.

A day that had changed the balance of the jujutsu world irrevocably — the day Satoru Gojo had burst onto the scene.

But to Satoru, the anniversary of that day had meant nothing to him for most of his life. It was another day in the calendar — the caretakers from the Gojo clan cared not for his birthday, as they did his development as the head and face of the Gojo clan. He had received the best of everything — the best foods, the best training, the best room in the compound.

At least, the strongest sorcerer had.

Satoru Gojo had barely received anything more than reverent bows, averted gazes, and hushed whispers — and he saw them all, with the six eyes he never had asked for. And Satoru Gojo had grown up without affection or anything of the sort — to the point where he had thought he was simply beyond that — love, compassion, or friendship — no, the only thing he had was duty.

And birthdays only served as a marker that he had lived another year.

Until they meant something more — when he had met Suguru, Shoko, and you. And then it had meant something for a little while. It meant a celebration with his friends — with a cake that you and Suguru had hastily made after a mission, while Shoko hung decorations (with the help of one of Suguru’s curses reaching the high points). It had meant forcing Nanami to wear a party hat against his will (Shoko and Haibara’s doing), and Satoru inevitably smearing cake on your face to start an all out food fight (which only ended with Satoru getting scolded and smacked on the head by Yaga, even on his birthday). And it meant you, Suguru, and Shoko giving him his first real birthday present — something he had never received in fifteen years of living. It meant something more.

Until it didn’t, again.

Because, now, it was another year he had spent without his best friend. Another year he watched other sorcerers die. Another year he had to spend apart from you and Shoko because you or he had been sent on missions while Shoko was stuck in the infirmary or the morgue.

And now, this year it was the first time he had a birthday that Suguru wouldn’t age. He would never age again. He would stay 28 forever, and Satoru — he didn’t know what age he’d turn. He hoped he would die before old age or disease took him — he rather not live long enough for that. Although you and Suguru always joked that he would be even better looking as an old man.

But all Satoru could think about was growing old alone — without anyone else around him. He was the strongest after all, how could anyone else survive? People around him were killed off one by one — and he was left all alone. And maybe that’s why he didn’t like birthdays — it was just another year, another year older — another year marking who had left him.

And so many did.

And how many birthdays would pass until he lost another? Would it be one of his students? Would it be Nanami? Would it be Shoko? Would it be you?

You…you were someone he couldn’t bear to lose. He had already lost you once. Pushed you away after Geto defected, pushed himself into work until he was burnt out, and pushed away any thoughts that he had of you. It didn’t last. It wasn’t a year until you had battered at his walls and his actual door, forcing your way back into his life.

And he was thankful you did, because he didn’t know if he would have found his way out of the hole he had dug himself in — before the dirt covered and buried him.

You — you would never let his birthday go. You never let him go a year without making him feel special, in one way or another. Last year, you had baked him his favorite cake, took him on a trip to a hot spring, and made arrangements to make sure the two of you weren’t disturbed the entire weekend (which was a feat of miracles on par with his six eyes and limitless itself).

“C’mon, just tell meeeee,”

And the strongest sorcerer’s snatching your gradebook out of your hand for the millionth time, and you surely look unamused, brow knit together, as you rub your temples, “You know living with you is worse than a child,”

“Wanna test your theory? I could fill you up right now and nine months—”

“I’m going to murder you,” and he only shrugs, all too smug.

“You’d miss me too much,” and he adds, “plus I know you’re strong, but you couldn’t—”

“Finish that sentence and you’re sleeping on the couch all week, I don’t care if it is your birthday tomorrow,” and he meets your gaze, and you’re unwavering, as he sighs, and hands over your grade book.

“We really aren’t doing anything?” your husband asks, raising a single eyebrow curiously, “you always have something up your sleeve, sweetheart,”

You frown, setting your grade book aside, “I just thought with everything going on — Yuji’s appearance, the special grades running around — I don’t think we should be away right now, and I thought we could do something small, just you and me,”

He nods slowly, a smile shoddily crafted and pasted on his lips, “Yeah, bet if I leave, the higher ups may try to pull something on Yuji,” he sighs dramatically, leaning his head back on the couch, “what a curse to be the strongest,”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” you press a kiss to his forehead, “you sure you’re okay with not doing anything?”

“Of course,” he finds your lips in a kiss.

But why wasn’t he?

He wasn’t one to care for things like this. He thought he was beyond caring about things like this. But all he could feel was the festering urge of disappointment seeping into his thoughts. Even the next day, the universe seemed to be against him, sent on a wild goose chase mission to hunt down a supposed special grade only to find two grade A curses that he took care of with ease.

He trodded back home to you — lips still in a pout that he couldn’t even enjoy his morning with you on his birthday. He didn’t even get to enjoy cuddling with you — woken up to travel across the country to deal with some curses he didn’t need to handle.

It didn’t used to be like this — sent off to do missions alone. Again and again. Heavy was the head that bore the crown, but no one had mentioned how lonely it was. Lonely even surrounded by those who tried to understand him — and he had you, he had you, but how could anyone truly see him for who he was — when he didn’t feel like he knew who he was anymore. Suguru’s question still rang in his ears — was he the strongest because he was Gojo Satoru, or was he Gojo Satoru because he was the strongest?

And all these years later, he still didn’t know the answer. He didn’t know if he would ever know the answer.

But he didn’t have time to linger on his thoughts as he spotted his home in the distance, but that wasn’t all he saw — there was a lot more cursed energy at home than usual — multiple people in his home, and his lips curled.

He sneaks up, diminishing his presence to nothing, as he pressed his ear to the door, and he could hear them —

“Too high, Itadori, lower!” Nobara barked, and Yuuji groaned, “come on, how long is it gonna take you to do this?”

“Then why don’t you get up here and do it?” he snaps back, and Nobara scoffs.

“I’m supervising, that’s why,”

“EH? Who else are you supervising besides me?”

“Stop messing around you two, and get the banner hung,” Megumi sighs, and Satoru could imagine him scowling, “Inumaki-senpai, do you need more balloons?”

“Salmon,”

“Maki, hurry up with cutting those strawberries, Nanami is almost done frosting the cake,” Satoru could hear Panda chewing and then a distinct THUNCK.

“THEN STOP EATING THEM YOU DAMN ANIMAL!”

“Alright, alright, stop fighting guys,” Satoru heard you sigh, “Nanami, I hope the frosting and cakes I baked were decent — I followed the recipe you gave me to a tee,”

“You did a good job from what I could tell, but I’m pretty sure you could feed that idiot a plain cup of sugar, and he’d like it just the same,” and Satoru pouts, hearing Shoko laugh as well.

“Especially if it’s from you,” Shoko teases you, as you scoff playfully, “can’t believe you two got married still — won’t be long until there are little Gojos running around, if Satoru has his way, with the way he’s been railing you,”

“Can we change the subject?” Nanami asks, disgust evident.

You only chuckle, “Well, he’s insisted that we start trying once things settle down, saying it never hurts to practice, but—” and then your phone chimes, “Yaga said Toru’s on his way back for a while, he should be close.”

There’s a mad dash and scramble as they put everything in its place, and Satoru leans against the side of the house — they even put up a curtain to hide their cursed energy on the inside, prioritizing invisibility.

And Satoru grins — all this for him?

“Let me video call him and see where he is — I think I can distract him enough,” and he teleports down the road from his home, as your phone call comes through, “hi birthday boy, are you almost home?”

“Almost,” he hums, “need something, sweetheart?”

“Just my lovely husband home so I can cuddle him,” you smile, and he can see you’re walking into your shared bedroom now, sound of the door closing behind you, “got a surprise on for you under this dress,”

And he’s pausing, “is that right?” And the party ebbs away from his mind, as your fingers slid the straps of your dress down, and teasing the baby blue and white lingerie set underneath, “my perfect birthday gift — all ready for me to unwrap?”

“As soon as you get home,” and all blood flees his brain and heads southward, “I’ll be waiting,”

And you disconnect the call — and he’s rushing now, party be damned. He would have you in bed, even if he had to sneak away with you upstairs for five minutes.

He unlocks the door, and hears several bangs from poppers, as all of his students, colleagues, and friends shout “surprise!” And he smiles, glancing around at the birthday decorations, the birthday cake precariously balanced in Yuji’s hands, and you — grinning right at the front of the group, holding a bouquet of red roses.

Everyone is stepping up to wish him a happy birthday, even grumbling happy birthdays from Megumi and Maki, as his arms curl around you after, “did I fool you?”

And he only smiles, “I’m always a fool for you, sweetheart,” and his lips find yours, only yielding disgusted groans from most of your students, “and don’t think I forgot about my present,” he whispers, while pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, “I have a feeling I’ll be tearing off the wrapping soon enough,” he winks.

You roll your eyes, “Party first, presents later,” your hand finds his as you take him to mingle.

Satoru doesn’t get his wish of a secret rendezvous with you — but he does get several other gifts from his students — a blue ray of Human Earthworm 4 from Yuji, Crocs from Nobara (“they’re as tacky as you are”), Megumi gives a gift card (Yuji: “No creativity,” Nobara: “Seriously how boring,” and Yuji earns a fist to the head from Megumi). The second years’ pitched in and bought him a book on ‘how to date’ (“it was Yuta’s idea — he’s not sure you know how to date even after getting married”).

He’s being pulled over to cut the cake that Yuji miraculously only dropped once (but Maki had luckily caught), you at his side, as everyone crowds around for him to cut it, and he thinks, maybe he doesn’t need to be understood as the strongest — maybe he can just be understood as Satoru Gojo, and that can be enough.

And he blows out his candles, as your fingers interlaced with his, and he’s cutting a particularly big chunk to feed you, nearly smearing it over your lips, “What did you wish for—umph—” and he’s kissing you, the sweet frosting didn’t compare to the sweetness of your lips, your fingers finding his shoulder, and he barely hears the groans of his students, parting as you softly pant, beautiful smile spread on your face, “Toru—”

“I have everything I could wish for,” and he’s pressing his forehead to yours, before you kiss his nose, only to drag some frosting across his cheek, “oi!”

“That’s for smearing cake all over my face,” you brush the crumbs from your chin, and he only grins wider.

As he’s pulling you close with an arm around your waist, his breath warm against your lips, “Will you help clean it off?” and you roll your eyes, as his students grimace at his words, booing him.

You only give a small smile, and kiss his cheek, whispering, “...after they leave,” and they do soon enough, after everyone enjoys their slice of cake and a few drinks (Yuji sneaking a glass of wine when Nanami isn’t looking), they leave to go back home.

Satoru collapses on the couch first, and then you toss yourself beside him, throwing your legs over his lap, “Tired?” you curl yourself against him, your head finding his shoulder, nose brushing against the warm nape of his neck.

“Was that mission earlier your doing?”

“Well how else would I get you out of the house with all your pestering? And knowing you, you would have kept me in bed all morning,” and he laughs, as his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you properly into his lap.

“How’d you see my birthday wish list?” and you scoff, as he presses sweet kisses to your neck, “you still have one more gift to give me, one that you teased me with earlier,” and his fingers are creeping up your bare thigh, squeezing teasingly at your flesh.

“Two more, actually,” and he’s tilting his head, as you grab the bouquet of flowers from the coffee table where he had left it, “you missed something in here,”

And he’s smiling, as he pulls a small box nestled in the middle of the roses, “What’s this—” and his fingers are too quick for his question, as he’s met with your gift.

Positive.

He stares — stares if it would disappear before his eyes, that somehow the six eyes were wrong this one time — the one time it mattered.

“Are you really surprised with all the practice we’ve been getting in?” and he gives a brief chuckle, shaking his head, as you chew your lip at his relative silence, “wow, have I rendered the great Satoru Gojo — the man who never shuts up even when he should — speechless?” he still says nothing, “Toru? Say somethin—”

And his arms are wrapping you in a hug, pulling you fully into his lap, as he engulfs you in his warmth, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “Are you sure I’m the father?”

You snort, “Satoru, I swear to god, I’m going—”

And his lips find yours in a sweet kiss, palms cupping your cheeks, as his blue eyes swim with a happiness you’d rarely seen before, as he presses kisses all over your face, until he’s kneeling before your stomach, pressing a sweet kiss to it.

“You better look like your mom or I’m going to demand a re-do,”

You huff, “Satoru, we aren’t having another kid for at least three years—”

“We didn’t mean to have a kid right now, but we are,” he gives a devilish smirk, before you cross your arms, unamused.

“I swear, we have another kid before three years are up, and I’m sleeping in a separate bedroom,” and his arms are looping around your waist to pull you close.

“You can’t resist me for that long,” and he’s pulling into a kiss again, your arms wrapping around his neck, as your lips part.

“Try me,” and he pouts before you laugh, tugging him to the bedroom, “come on, birthday boy, I believe I owe you one last present,” and his lips are curled again as he follows you eagerly, your dress over your head and on the bedroom floor before he’s two steps into the room.

December 7, 2018.

A day that changed the balance of Satoru Gojo’s family life — for the better.

a/n: this was supposed to be pure fluff but turned into angst / fluff - as always. i can't write anything w/o angst.

tag list: @merzel69695, @senseiigojo, @forest-fruits-jam, @forest-hashira, @amanemisamisa, @ririthedevil, @a1is0n-png, @chosomoso, @hawkwithsocks, @aliyalala, @icecubesaredelicous, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @acewoo, @sodoney,

#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fanfiction #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fanfiction #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #dividers by @/saradika

2K notes · View notes

ilions-end · 4 months ago

Text

all these myths about what happens to odysseus after the events of the odyssey. i've been thinking about the one (referenced by pseudo-apollodorus and plutarch) where odysseus is locked in conflict with the families of the killed suitors (because the divinely decreed conciliation at the end of the odyssey just didn't stick, i guess). they agree to send for neoptolemus (of ALL PEOPLE) to arbitrate, but neoptolemus secretly wants odysseus' estates, so his ruling is that odysseus is banished from ithaca, cephallenia and zacynthus "because of the blood that he had shed there", and also the families must pay odysseus a yearly fee to pay off the damages caused by the suitors. now odysseus has to wander off and father too many sons so they can establish roman cities.

obviously i think this myth is a little silly (as a number of post-odyssey myths are) but i always try to give each variant due thought, because presumably for some ancient people this WAS part of the story of odysseus.

so imagine it as the result of what happens in sophocles' philoctetes: maybe odysseus suggests and lobbies for neoptolemus as arbitrator because he assumes neoptolemus will be deferential, he remembers neoptolemus as he was -- conscientious but realistic, or just plain morally ambiguous and easy to manipulate. maybe neoptolemus' ruling is the direct result of the lesson odysseus taught him on that first, fateful mission: if you want something bad enough, you can't let sentiment or honesty get in the way. maybe there IS some lingering sense of loyalty and respect there, so neoptolemus tells himself that securing odysseus a yearly income makes up for forcing him to flee his home.

remember when philoctetes accused odysseus of forever ruining neoptolemus' moral compass? i think about that a lot

#i see a fragmented myth and i start finding ways for it to inflict emotional damage on myself basically #or imagine its storytelling potential. same thing #odysseus #neoptolemus #philoctetes #tagamemnon

542 notes · View notes

esthercore · 4 months ago

Text

I don't know if it's a thing yet or not, but Yandere Aventurine x Talent Motivation Department - employee reader!!!

Yan!Aventurine who was handed in your care when he first joined the IPC. Since the two of you were of the similar age range, and you always had been such a sweetheart in Jade's eyes, she personally hand picked you as the guide for the latest stone heart. The boy all your to nourish and train: to be graceful, fancy, extravagant and make him someone fitting the title of a Stoneheart.

Yan!Aventurine who at first was too cold and distant, barely talking to you, and extremely depressed when left alone. But after seeing you waking up at unholy hours, to prepare for his day, working more than you were needed to for your paycheck, spending time with him in silence even in your off hours, all that just to give him company and make him feel not alone, he realized that your compassion was genuine and you cared for a monster like him, cared for a slave, a killer, a loser, all hell went loose.

Yan!Aventurine who despised his work, the stuffy environment, and especially the opportunist people surrounding him, so he get attached to you, the only genuine person in his life, his lovely caretaker. Slowly starting to grow extremely dependent on you emotionally once he knew you really care for him, refusing to learn how to do his hair properly, or proper dining etiquettes, etc. just so he can be in your care for longer.

Yan!Aventurine who doesn't wear all the flamboyant clothing and way too many accessories during his missions because he likes to be extra/maximalist, no. He does so because he's trying to wear all the gifts you have ever given to him all at once as many as possible, to show his appreciation, and to keep you close to him in spirit, just in case this mission happens to be the end of his life.

Yan!Aventurine who can't believe a person as kind and gentle as you is actually real, as he see you worrying about everyone around you. Helping elderlies cross the road, patching up little kids playingin the playground, baking for your friends whenever you feel like, greeting every stanger you see with a smile, trying your best to brighten everyone's day. Pathetic, you were truly pathetic in his eyes, so vulnerable for any vulture to pick you up and tear apart, a fucking push over.

Yan!Aventurine who soon realizes how much more power he has over you, his mindset starting to getting corrupted with his workplace, and the inner panic realizing how your time as his caretaker is going to end soon. Slowly he started tugging in a few strings to dwindle your reputation in your department through some ugly methods, no matter the cost that now remain hidden is his mind, long forgotten in the future. After all, he can't have his lovely caretaker to be placed with some other no-good person who will only take advantage of you! You caring for someone else, talking so lovingly with someone else, letting someone else lay on your thighs as you pat them asleep, letting someone else bring you expensive gifts as a token of appreciation, letting someone else making you laugh, letting someone else get so close to you.

Letting someone else replace him.

Yan!Aventurine who offers to move in together in his new bigger house now that he was in an established position, just when your position as a respected member of talent motivation department is threatened to fall and your salary starts getting cut short, in the guise of repaying your kindness, knowing damn well how desperately you needed to save some housing money and can't reject.

Yan!Aventurine who was always there for you as your friends and coworkers started growing distant from you, and coddling your anxieties away when mean rumors about you started spreading around, comforting you just like how you used to comfort him, despite being the reason you cry in his arms.

Yan!Aventurine who start taking you out to work parties or hang outs, as your work load started decreasing, and you grew lonely with your friends leaving you, charming his way in your heart, loving the way you started blushing around him, and fully taking advantage by teasing your more to see your cute reactions, adoring how this all was meant for him. Your love, attention, care all for him.

Yan!Aventurinewho gently shifting your 'roommate' duties, to more domestic one, like cooking, cleaning, and anything that was indoors, preferring to do groceries shopping either by himself or together, making sure your contact with others remain as minimal with others for the sake of his own sanity.

Yan!Aventurine who was shocked when you were the one to confess first, his heart beating fast in his ears, face red, and tears welling in his eyes, as he collapse in your arms, surprising you with the hug and the chats of i love you's.

Yan!Aventurine who almost can not believe his life is really true, as he lean against the doorframe, watching as you feed the little cat cakes he got. You now leaving your work to take care of your lover, leaving behind the people who left you just due to some stupid rumors, and now sporting the title of a stone heart's lover, enjoying your life of luxury.

Matchmaker! Jade who always had a gut feeling you two were meant for each other, since the day she appointed you.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr aventurine #hsr aventurine x reader #hsr yandere #yandere hsr #yandere aventurine #yandere aventurine x reader #hsr yandere aventurine x reader #aventurine hsr #aventurine #hsr x reader #yandere #yandere bf #yandere x reader #yandere hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail #aventurine x you #him wearing rings in all fingers except the ring finger because he's saving it for your engagement

756 notes · View notes

natsaffection · 4 months ago

Text

Heated pt. 2 | N.R

Warnings: G!P Natasha, Details of Pregnancy, Details of Torture, Angst, Blood, injury’s

Word Count: 6,3k

A/N: Okayy, I don’t know ow how to feel about this.. I apologize in advance if something is weird, but this is the first time I'm writing in this properly, soo.

I tried to incorporate all your Ideas and thoughts and this is what came out of it.

Part 1

The sterile smell of the medical wing always made your stomach turn, but today was different. Today, the nausea had nothing to do with antiseptics or hospital lights, but everything to do with the gnawing suspicion that had been growing for weeks. Dr. Helen Cho had asked you to come in after your last bout of unexplained nausea and fatigue.

You sat on the edge of the examination table, drumming your fingers nervously on the cool metal. Your mind was racing, a whirlwind of thoughts and fears. What if it was something serious? What if it affected your ability to fight? And, deep down, a thought you barely dared to admit... What if you were pregnant?

Dr. Cho entered, holding a file with a concerned expression on her face. She gave you a reassuring smile, but it did little to ease the tension in your chest.

"Y/n," Dr. Cho began gently, "we have the results of your blood tests."Your heart pounded in your ears. You forced yourself to breathe, to maintain your composure. "It looks like you're pregnant," Dr. Cho said quietly, her eyes full of compassion.

The words hung in the air, a heavy, inescapable truth. It felt like the ground had disappeared beneath your feet. Pregnant. The word echoed in your mind, mingling with a thousand thoughts and fears. You were an Avenger, a fighter, not someone who had time to think about raising a child. And then there was Natasha.

A mix of emotions surged within you. Disbelief, fear, anger, and somewhere, deep down, a small spark of hope. You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you tried to process the news. Your mind was a chaotic storm of questions: How could this happen? What would you do? How would this affect your role with the Avengers? And Natasha... How could you ever tell her?

"How... how far along?" you managed to whisper.

"About 9 weeks," Dr. Cho replied. "We'll need to run some more tests to ensure everything is progressing normally, but as far as we can see, everything is fine."

You nodded mechanically, your mind already focusing on the next inevitable step. You couldn't tell Natasha. Not yet. The thought made your stomach turn more than the nausea. What would Natasha say? How would she react? Would she even care?

Dr. Cho placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I know this is a lot to take in. If you need anything or have any questions, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you," you said, your voice hollow. You slid off the bed and made your way out of the medical wing, each step heavy with the weight of the news you carried.

Days passed in a blur. You went through the motions of training, missions, and team meetings, but your mind was elsewhere. Every morning you woke up hoping it was all just a bad dream, but reality remained. You were pregnant, and you had no idea what to do.

The days stretched into a week, and you became increasingly anxious. You avoided Natasha as much as possible, afraid that your eyes would betray the secret you were desperately trying to hide. You couldn't eat, you couldn't sleep, and it felt like you were falling apart.

In the quiet moments, when you were alone, the thoughts crashed over you like a tidal wave. How could you be a mother? What kind of life could you offer a child? And Natasha... Would she even want to be involved? The uncertainty was suffocating.

One particularly sleepless night, you found yourself pacing your room, your mind a whirlwind of questions and fears. You knew you couldn't continue like this. You needed to talk to someone, to get some perspective. Maria came to mind. Maria was always a reliable presence, a voice of reason amid the chaos of your life.

With a determination born of desperation, you made your way to Maria's office. It was late, but you knew Maria often worked at odd hours. You knocked softly on the door, your heart pounding with each passing moment.

A moment later, the door opened, and Maria's calm, composed face appeared. "Y/n, what's going on? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Can we talk?" you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "It's... important." Maria nodded and stepped aside to let you in. She closed the door behind you and gestured to a seat.

"What's on your mind?" Maria asked, sitting across from you. You took a deep breath, the words catching in your throat. "I... I found out that I'm pregnant." Maria's eyes widened slightly, but she maintained her composure. "Okay... wow. How are you feeling?"

"Confused," you admitted, your voice shaking. "Scared. I don't know what to do, Maria. And... Natasha... she doesn't know yet."

Maria nodded thoughtfully. "Considering your relationship with her... I thought things were over between you two?"

You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. "So did I. But we... we had our moments. It's complicated. We fight, we argue, and then... well, you know how it is."

Maria sighed and leaned back in her chair. "I understand. Relationships can be complicated, especially in our line of work. But right now, you need to focus on yourself and the baby. Everything else can come later."

"But Maria, what if she wants nothing to do with it?" Your voice broke, tears streaming down your face. "What if she hates me even more because of this?"

Maria stood up and sat beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Y/n, listen to me. You are strong, and you can do this. You've been through worse and survived. Natasha's reaction is something we can't predict, but that doesn't mean you have to go through this alone."

You sniffled and leaned into Maria's comforting embrace. "I just don't know what to do. Every time I think about telling her, I freeze."

"One step at a time," Maria advised gently. "First, take care of yourself. Make sure you're healthy, that the baby is healthy. You're not just an Agent, Y/n. You're a person with feelings, with needs. It's okay to be scared and confused."

"Thank you," you whispered. "I really needed to hear that." Maria smiled and squeezed you reassuringly. "Anytime. And remember, we're all here for you. No matter what happens. Natasha... she has a complicated past, especially with family. It's not my place to tell her story, but know that her reaction, whatever it may be, is influenced by that. But for now, you need to focus on you." You nodded, feeling a small measure of relief. "I know. I'm just scared of losing her completely."

"You won't," Maria said firmly. "Natasha is tough, but she cares about you. It might take her time to process, but she'll come around. And in the meantime, you have me, you have the team. You're not alone in this."

"Thank you, Maria," you said, your voice now steadier. "I don't know what I would do without you." Maria chuckled softly. "Well, you don't have to find out. We're in this together. One step at a time, okay?"

"Okay," you agreed, feeling a new determination. "One step at a time."

Days passed, and your thoughts never strayed far from the life growing inside you. At first, the idea had been a whirlwind of fear and confusion, but slowly, acceptance began to settle in. You often found yourself resting a hand on your stomach, a strange mix of wonder and worry filling your heart. You knew you had to tell Natasha, no matter how frightening the thought was.

The moment had finally come. You stood outside Natasha's quarters, your heart beating so loudly you could hear it in your ears. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door, each second feeling like an eternity. The door opened, and Natasha stood there, her expression as reserved as ever.

"What do you want?" Natasha asked, her voice cool and distant. "We need to talk," you said, your voice firm despite the turmoil inside you.

Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly, sensing the gravity of your tone. She stepped aside and let you in. The door closed behind you with a soft click, sealing you both in the small room.

"What is it?" Natasha asked, crossing her arms over her chest. You took a deep breath and met her gaze. "Natasha, I'm pregnant." For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Natasha's eyes widened a little, a fleeting emotion, fear, perhaps crossed her face. But it was quickly replaced by a hard, cold mask.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Natasha hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "You heard me," you said, your own anger rising. "I found out a week ago. I'm elven weeks along."

Natasha's face hardened. "And you think it's mine? You think you can just throw this at me and—"

"I don't think, I know," you interrupted, your voice trembling with emotion. "You came inside me, Natasha, remember? This is your baby."

The room was filled with tense silence, the weight of your words hanging between you. Natasha took a step back, her expression conflicted. She had been trained her whole life to believe that love and attachments were weaknesses, that they were only for children. The idea of a relationship, of raising a child, was something she had never allowed herself to consider.

"No.. we used protection and you take the pill- This changes everything." Natasha said finally, her voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah, last time maybe, but not at the Party 3 Month ago..“ you replied, your voice filled with anger and desperation. "It does change everything. And you can't just run away from it."

Natasha's eyes flashed with anger. "Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I wanted to be tied down like this?" Your own anger flared. "You're not the only one who's scared, Natasha! But you can't just run away from this. It's happening, whether you want it or not."

"I was never meant to have a family," Natasha spat, her voice rising. "I was trained to be a something else, not a mother."

"And what about me?" you ask, tears streaming down your face. "I didn't ask for this either. But I'm dealing with it, and so do you. We made this baby together."

Natasha's face twisted with a mix of anger and pain. "Do you think I can just turn off everything I've been taught? That I can just be a mother, be in a relationship like it's nothing?"

Your heart ached at the sight of Natasha's struggle, but your anger didn't wane. "You're afraid, I get that. But that doesn't give you the right to run away. We have to face this together, Natasha.."

"I can't!" Natasha screamed, her voice breaking. "I don't know how! I was trained to kill, to manipulate, not to love or care for a child. I can't do this!"

"Stop saying that!" you screamed back, trying to hold back your tears. "Stop pushing me away, Natasha. You don't have the right to make that decision alone."

"You don't understand!" Natasha yelled, turning away from you. "You don't know what it's like to be told that love is only for..children, that attachments are a weakness. I can't just change because you say so."

You stepped closer, your voice trembling with emotion. "Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I'm not scared? But I'm standing here, ready to face this with you. Y-You owe me that.."

Natasha's back remained turned to you, her shoulders shaking with suppressed emotions. "Look at me!" you demanded, grabbing Natasha's arm and turning her to face you. "Look at me and tell me you feel nothing. Tell me you don't care."

Natasha's eyes met yours, and for a moment, the cold mask slipped. Pain, fear, and something deeper flickered in her gaze. Then, with a hard swallow, she forced herself to speak. "I feel nothing for you or the baby," she lied, her voice hard and unyielding. "I can't and I won't."

Your hand flew up before you could stop yourself, slapping Natasha hard across the face. "Liar!" you screamed, your voice breaking. "You're just scared! You're a coward to admit it!"

Natasha's cheek burned, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the inner turmoil. "I'm not a coward," she hissed, anger flashing in her eyes. "I'm realistic. This will never work."

"Stop pretending you're a heartless monster!" you screamed, tears streaming down your face. "You care, I know you do. You're just too scared to admit it."

"Get out," Natasha said coldly, turning away again. "Just go." Your heart shattered at her words. "I can’t believe it.“ you spat, your voice trembling with anger and pain. "Fuck you, Natasha.“

With those words, you stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind you. As you walked down the hall, tears flowed freely, each step heavy with a mix of anger, despair, and heartbreak.

Back in the room, Natasha stood motionless, her mind a whirlwind of emotions she had learned to suppress. She clenched her fists, fighting the urge to break down. Deep down, she knew you were right. She did care. But admitting it, facing it, seemed an insurmountable challenge. For now, she remained alone with her guilt and fear, the echo of your words ringing in her ears.

You stormed down the hallway, your vision blurred by tears. You were determined to get to your room, to hide from the world and the pain of Natasha's rejection. As you turned the corner, you almost collided with Maria.

"Y/n, hey, what’s going on?" Maria asked, concern in her eyes as she saw your tear-streaked face and trembling form.

"Natasha is a fucking asshole, that's what’s going on." you spat, trying to wipe away your tears, only to smear them further. Maria gently took your arm and guided you to a nearby bench. "Sit down and tell me what happened."

You sank onto the bench, your anger and pain bubbling over. "I told her. I told her I'm pregnant, and she... she just pushed me away. She said she feels nothing for me or the baby. She's too scared to admit she cares, and she's a total coward for it."

Maria listened quietly, her expression a mix of sympathy and understanding. "Natasha has a lot of baggage, Y/n. She's been through things most people can't even imagine. That's not an excuse for her behavior, but it's part of why she reacted the way she did."

"I don't care about her damn baggage!" you snapped, though your voice softened as you continued. "I just thought... maybe, just maybe, she would step up. But she's running away."

Before Maria could respond, Nick Fury appeared around the corner, his usual authoritative presence filling the hallway. "Hill, L/n. I've been looking for you both. We have a mission that needs to be handled."

You stood up abruptly, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. "I'm in. Whatever it is, I'm in." Maria interjected, her concern evident. "Nick, I don't think Y/n should go. She's... she's been through a lot right now. It's not safe."

"I'm fine," you insisted, your voice firm. "I need a distraction, and a mission sounds perfect." Fury looked between the two of you, sensing the tension but not pressing further. "Alright then. Briefing in ten minutes. Be ready."

As Fury walked away, Maria turned back to you. "Are you sure? You're not exactly in the best state right now."

"I need the distraction," you insisted. "I need to think about something other than her." Maria sighed and squeezed your shoulder gently. "Okay. But be careful out there. And remember, you're not alone."

Meanwhile, in Natasha's quarters, Clint had overheard every word of the explosive argument between you and Natasha. He knocked gently before entering, finding Natasha pacing angrily, her face twisted with self-loathing.

"Hey," Clint said softly, closing the door behind him. "Are you okay?" Natasha looked up, her eyes red but defiant. "What do you think, Barton?" Clint sat on the edge of the bed. "You really messed up, Nat."

"I know," Natasha spat, her voice full of anger, mostly at herself. "But I don't know how to fix it. I don't know how to be what she needs."

Clint sighed, watching her pace. "You're not a monster, You've been through hell, but that doesn't mean you can't change. That doesn't mean you can't try to be there for Y/n and the baby. Your Baby, Nat, congratulations..“

"She hates me," Natasha said, her voice full of despair. "I saw it in her eyes."

"She's angry, and she has every right to be," Clint said softly. "But that doesn't mean it's too late. You need to talk to her. Really talk to her. Let her in."

Natasha shook her head, her frustration boiling over. "I can't do that, Clint. I'm not capable of being a mother. I was trained to kill, to manipulate, not to love or care for a child. I don't know how to be anything else."

Clint stood up and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "Listen to me. You're not just what they made you. You're more than that. Look at me, Nat. I have my own demons, but I have a family too. It's hard, and it's scary, but it's worth it. You don't have to go through this alone."

Natasha's eyes filled with tears, but she fought them back. "How did you do it? How did you become a father with everything we've been through?"

Clint's expression softened. "It wasn't easy. I was terrified when Laura told me she was pregnant with Cooper. But we took it one day at a time. I had to learn how to be a father. I had to let myself love, despite all the shit we've been through. And you can too."

"I don't know if I can," Natasha whispered, her voice breaking. "I don't want to hurt her or the baby."

"You won't," Clint said firmly. "But you have to be willing to try. Y/n won't wait forever. You need to make a choice." Natasha nodded slowly, a sense of determination flickering in her eyes. "I have to make this right."

Clint squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "Then start by talking to her. Really talking to her. That's the only way."

As Natasha sat in the silence of her room, you were already preparing for the mission, your mind a storm of emotions. You were determined to throw yourself into the upcoming task, to forget Natasha if only for a while. But deep down, you knew the pain wouldn't fade so easily.

Two days had passed since the explosive argument. Natasha had spent most of that time in a daze, replaying the fight over and over in her mind. The words, the emotions, the raw pain in your eyes haunted her. Clint's words echoed in her mind too, urging her to face her fears and take a step forward.

She knew she needed to talk to you, to try and make things right. She couldn't let fear continue to dictate her actions. With newfound determination, Natasha set out to find you, hoping that you could finally have a real conversation.

But as she walked through the halls of the Tower, she couldn't find you anywhere. She checked the training rooms, the common areas, even your quarters, but there was no sign of you. Natasha’s frustration and worry grew with each passing minute.

On her way back to her room, she overheard a conversation between two agents in the hallway. “Did you hear about the team that got captured on the mission a few day ago?” one agent said.

“Yeah, Fury’s trying to come up with a rescue plan,” the other agent replied. „I was almost sent with..“ Natasha’s heart skipped a beat. She stepped closer, her voice filled with urgency. “Which team? Who got captured?”

The agents looked surprised to see her. “Uh, it was the team that went out yesterday. Agent L/n was leading it.” It felt like the ground had been pulled out from under Natasha. “Where’s Fury?” she demanded.

“In the briefing room,” one of the agents replied.

Without another word, Natasha sprinted to the briefing room. She burst through the door, her heart pounding in her chest. Fury, Maria, and several other senior agents were gathered around a table, maps and plans spread out before them.

“Fury, what happened?” Natasha asked, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. He looked up, his expression serious. “We’re working on it, Natasha. We need to stay calm.”

“Calm?” Natasha snapped, her eyes blazing. “Y/n is out there, captured, and you’re telling me to stay calm?”

Maria stepped forward, trying to soothe the situation. “Nat, we’re doing everything we can to get them back. We’re working on a plan.”

“Working on a plan?” Natasha’s voice broke, her hands clenched into fists. “We need to get her out now!”

“Did I miss something here?” Fury asked firmly. Maria glanced at Natasha and back at Fury. “Y/n is pregnant, Nick.”

Fury’s expression hardened. “What? Why wasn’t I informed of this? L/n shouldn’t have gone on the mission!” The room fell silent until Fury spoke again. “Alright, we can’t rush into this. We need to make sure we know what we’re getting into. If we go in blind, we risk losing everyone.”

“I’m going,” Natasha said, her voice leaving no room for argument. Fury shook his head. “No, you’re too close to this. I’ll assemble a team.”

Natasha took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “Nick, please. I can do this. Just tell me where and when.” Fury considered for a moment, looking at the maps in front of him. “You need to keep your emotions in check, Natasha. If you go in there and let your feelings cloud your judgment, you’re no good to anyone.”

As the team finalized their plans, Natasha’s thoughts raced. She couldn’t lose you. Not like this. She had to make things right, to tell you how she really felt. She couldn’t let fear dictate her actions any longer.

The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a single flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, blood, and fear. Your hands were tightly bound behind your back, your body aching from the rough treatment you had endured.

You could hear the faint sounds of your team being tortured in the adjacent room. Their screams echoed through the walls, each cry of pain a dagger to your heart. You tried to stay strong, to keep calm for the sake of the little human growing inside you. But the fear was overwhelming.

The door to your cell creaked open, and a man stepped in. You recognized him immediately. He was a notorious interrogator, known for his cruelty. Your heart raced as he approached, a sinister smile on his lips.

“Well, well,” he said, his voice dripping with malice. “Look who we have here. And I hear you’re expecting a child. How… interesting.” You glared at him, refusing to show any sign of weakness. “What do you want?”

The man chuckled, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. “Oh, I’m not here for information. I’m here to make sure you understand the gravity of your situation.”

He crouched down in front of you, his face only inches from yours. “I’ve heard you’ve been quite a thorn in our side. But now, you’re just a scared little girl with a baby on the way. How touching.”

Your jaw clenched. “You’re wasting your time. I won’t tell you anything.” The man’s smile widened. “Like I said, I’m not here for that. I already know more than enough. For example, I know about the tracker in your shoulder. We can’t have your friends finding you too easily, can we?”

Your eyes widened in shock as he lifted the knife and brought it to your shoulder. You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing you scream. The pain was unbearable as he cut into your skin, removing the tracker with cruel precision.

“There we go,” he said, holding up the bloody device. “No more interruptions. Just you and me.” Your vision blurred with tears of pain, but you forced yourself to stay strong. “You won’t break me.”

The man laughed softly, his eyes darkening with madness. “We’ll see.”

He reached out, placing a hand on your stomach, his touch sending a wave of nausea through you. “And how is the little one? It must be hard, carrying a baby while being held captive.” Your anger flared, but you kept your voice steady. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

“Oh, but I must,” he said, his voice dripping with mock concern. “We wouldn’t want anything to happen to the baby, would we?”

He pressed the knife against your skin, just enough to draw a thin line of blood. “You see, I know all about you and your precious Avengers. I know they’re out there, planning to rescue you. But they won’t be here in time. Not before I have my fun.”

You tensed, your heart racing. “You’re a monster.” He grinned, leaning closer. “And you’re my plaything.”

Natasha moved with practiced ease through the shadows, her heart pounding as she approached the abandoned warehouse where you were being held. The intel she had gathered painted a grim picture: The man who had captured you was known only as “The Devil,” a nickname he had earned for his reputation for sadistic cruelty. His real name was Anton Volkov, a former KGB agent who had gone rogue and plunged into a life of crime and terror. The team split up and surrounded the house.

Inside, you flinched again, your body tensing at his touch. “Get your filthy hands off me!” you hissed, your voice defiant despite your fear.

Volkov chuckled, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your stomach. “Oh, I won’t harm your little one. Not yet, anyway. I just want you to understand how powerless you are.” His hand lingered for a moment before he stepped back, his eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure.

He turned and picked up a knife again from a nearby table, the blade glinting menacingly in the dim light. Your heart raced as you watched him, your mind screaming at you to stay calm. The knife wasn’t meant for your baby, that much, Volkov had made clear but it did little to soothe the fear gripping you.

With slow, deliberate movements, Volkov approached you again. He knelt down, bringing the knife to your thigh, and you couldn’t suppress a shudder. “Do you know what I find fascinating?” he said casually, as if discussing the weather. “The resilience of the human body. How much pain it can endure before it breaks.”

He pressed the blade against your skin, and you gasped as it cut into your flesh. Blood welled up, dark and thick, running down your leg. Volkov watched with sadistic delight, his eyes never leaving your face. “I’ve learned so much from watching people suffer. It truly is an art.”

The knife moved higher, toward your stomach, and your breath caught in your throat. Volkov’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. “But don’t worry. I won’t kill you. Not yet.”

With a swift motion, he plunged the knife into your side, just below your ribs. The pain was blinding, a hot, white flash that stole your breath away. Blood poured from the wound, soaking your clothes and pooling on the floor. Volkov’s face lit up with ecstatic fascination as he watched the life drain from you.

“Not lethal, but painful,” he murmured, twisting the blade cruelly before pulling it out. His smile widened. “Beautiful.”

Your vision blurred, the pain overwhelming your senses. You fought to stay conscious, your thoughts drifting to Natasha. Despite everything she had said, despite the harsh words and cold rejection, a part of you still hoped she would come. That she would save you.

As darkness closed in, you heard the faintest sound, footsteps moving silently through the shadows. Volkov hadn’t noticed, too absorbed in his sadistic pleasure. But you knew. She was here.

The next moments were a blur of violence and chaos. Natasha moved like a ghost, each of her movements precise and deadly. She dispatched Volkov’s guards with brutal efficiency, her eyes never leaving your tortured face. When she reached the room where you were held, Volkov turned slowly, sensing her presence.

“Why would SHIELD send their precious Black Widow for a simple rescue mission?” Volkov mused aloud, a dark smile playing on his lips. “Interesting.”

Natasha’s eyes fixed on you, her heart breaking at the sight of your battered and bloodied body. She forced herself to stay calm, but the rage simmered beneath the surface.

Volkov noticed her reaction, a glint of recognition in his eyes. “Aahh, I understand,” he said, stepping closer to you and placing a cruel hand on your stomach. "You care about her, don't you? So more than just a fleshlight..“

Natashas wondered how he knew all this. Her fists clenched, her knuckles turning white. "Get away from her. You’re surrounded." she growled.

Volkov laughed, a cold sound that echoed through the room. "So, you're the other parent," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "How touching. Tell me, Natasha, how does it feel to be so powerless?"

He pressed the knife against your stomach, drawing a thin line of blood. You flinched, your eyes pleading with Natasha to stay calm.

But Volkov was relentless. "I wonder how much more you can endure," he said, applying more pressure. "How much more before you beg for mercy?"

Natasha's resolve broke, her emotions boiling over. "Stop it!" she pleaded, her voice cracking. Volkov's smile widened. "So, it is true. You do care." He leaned closer to you, his eyes never leaving Natasha's. "See, Y/n, your lover is here to save you! But I wonder, how far will she go to protect you and your unborn child?"

Your eyes filled with tears, your voice desperate. "She won’t tell you anything. " Volkov's grip on the knife tightened. "Oh, well see. " he said, his voice cruel and mocking. "Because if she doesn't, I might just-“

"I'll do whatever you want," Natasha interrupted, her voice deadly calm. "Just let her go."

Your eyes widened in surprise. Why does she care of a sudden? Where is the Natasha from a few Days ago? And Volkov's eyes gleamed with triumph. "That's better," he said, pulling the knife away but leaving another shallow cut on your stomach. "You see, Natasha, pain is a powerful motivator. And now you'll do exactly as I say."

Natasha's eyes met yours, a silent promise passing between you. "I won't let him hurt you," she whispered, her determination hardening.

"I'm in position."

Natasha raised her hands until an arrow flew past Volkov and distracted him. In that moment, Natasha saw her opportunity. With a sudden burst of energy, she lunged at him, using every ounce of her training and fury.

Volkov, caught off guard by her ferocity, struggled to keep up. Natasha's movements were a blur, her strikes precise and deadly. She fought with a desperation that only a mother protecting her child could muster.

Clint and the team took down Volkov's remaining guards and secured the area. "Natasha, we've got them all. Get Y/n out of here," came through the comms.

In the end, Natasha overpowered Volkov, delivering a final, devastating blow that left him on the ground, barely conscious. She stood over him, her chest heaving with exertion and anger. She delivered one last, bone-crushing kick to his ribs.

With Volkov incapacitated, Natasha turned her attention to you. Her eyes softened as she took in the sight of your battered and bloodied body, but still alive. She quickly cut through your bonds, her hands gentle despite the urgency.

"Hey," she whispered, cradling your face in her hands. "I'm here. I'm so sorry. I'm here." Your eyes fluttered open, a weak smile tugging at your lips. "Took you long enough.." you murmured, your voice barely audible.

Natasha's heart ached at your condition, but she forced herself to stay focused. "We need to get you out of here," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "Can you walk?"

With Natasha's help, you managed to stand, her touch surprisingly tender. But your legs gave away, and Natasha caught you. "Alright, come here." She lifted you into her arms and carried you out.

"Let's get her to the Quinjet," Clint said, his voice urgent but calm. "She needs medical attention now." As they made their way out of the warehouse, Clint cast one last glance at the chaos they had wrought. "We'll make sure Volkov doesn't get up again," he said, his voice grim. "Let's move."

---

Your eyes opened slowly, the harsh white light of the medical station making you blink. You could hear the soft beeping of monitors and feel the warmth of blankets covering you. As your vision cleared, you saw Natasha sitting beside you, her eyes red-rimmed and filled with a mix of relief and worry.

"Hey," Natasha said softly, reaching out to touch your hand gently. "You're awake." You blinked, trying to sit up, but wincing at the pain still coursing through your body. "T-The baby...?"

Natasha's expression softened, a small, relieved smile appearing on her lips. "The baby's fine. Strong, just like her mother." she said, trying to inject some lightness into her tone.

But you didn't laugh. The memory of your last fight, Natasha's cold rejection of your child, still hurt deeply. You turned your head away, your silence speaking volumes.

Natasha's smile faded, replaced by an expression of deep remorse. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "Y/n, I want to talk. Please let me explain why I reacted the way I did."

You remained silent, but your eyes flicked back to Natasha, a sign that you were listening. "I've made so many mistakes in my life," Natasha began, her voice trembling slightly. "I was trained to be a weapon, to be cold and distant. Love and family were concepts beaten out of me. I thought... I thought if I kept my distance, if I didn't let myself feel, I could protect you."

Natasha swallowed hard, tears filling her eyes. "But I was wrong. So, so wrong. When you told me you were pregnant, I panicked. I didn't know how to handle it. I was scared. Scared of loving, scared of being a mother. I said those terrible things because I thought it would be easier if I pushed you away."

Your expression softened, your eyes filling with tears as well. Natasha continued, her voice breaking. "I grew up in a world where love was a weakness, where family was used against you. I didn't want that for you or our child. But I see now that pushing you away was the worst thing I could have done. I'm so sorry, Y/n. I let my fear control me, and I hurt you."

She took a shaky breath, her eyes pleading with you. "I want to be there for you, and for our baby. I want to try, if you'll let me. I know I have a lot to make up for, but I promise, I'll do everything I can to make it right."

Your tears flowed freely now, but you reached out and took Natasha's hand, squeezing it tightly. "I understand, Natasha. Really. But it hurt so much to hear those things from you. I was scared too. Scared of raising this baby alone, scared of losing you."

Natasha nodded, her own tears streaming down her face. "I know. And I can't undo what I said, but I can try to be better. I want to be a part of this. I want to be a family."

You looked into Natasha's eyes, seeing the sincerity and vulnerability there. It wouldn't be easy, but for the first time, you felt a glimmer of hope. "Okay," you whispered. "We'll try. Together."

„R-Really?“ Her heart swelling with a mix of love and determination. "Thank you," she whispered. "I won't let you down."

As you both sat in the quiet of the medical wing, holding each other, you knew the road ahead would be challenging. But with Natasha by your side, you felt a renewed sense of strength and hope for the future. "Natasha, there's something else," you said, taking a deep breath. "it will probably be a girl. The doctors cannot guarantee anything, but so far it looks like..“

Natasha's eyes widened, and despite her efforts to hold them back, a tear escaped. "A girl?" she repeated, her voice trembling with emotion.

You nodded, smiling through your own tears. "Yes, a girl. Our daughter." Natasha wiped away the tear that ran down her cheek, her heart close to bursting with joy. "A daughter," she whispered, the word feeling both foreign and wonderful on her lips.

She looked at you, her eyes shining with awe and gratitude. "Thank you for giving me a second chance," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I promise, I will be the mother she deserves. And I will be there for you, every step of the way."

You squeezed Natasha's hand, feeling a new unity and strength between you. "I know you will, Natasha. I believe in you. In us."

And so, in the quiet of the medical wing, surrounded by the beeping of monitors and the sterile smell of disinfectant, you and Natasha began a new path together. A path of healing, love, and hope for the future you would build as a family.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #natasha romanov smut #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha

499 notes · View notes

hoodiedmenace · 10 months ago

Text

Reasons Why Charles Smith and Arthur Morgan are Gay (an almost essay)

Reason 1: from a game play standpoint, you only get a few optional missions. Those missions are helping Mary when she asks (who is Arthur's like, old girlfriend/ex/situationship/it's complicated) and CHARLES when he asks Arthur to help with the local Native American tribe

Reason 2: Charles is super introverted, and doesn't talk to other gang members much at all. However, when Charles goes bison hunting, despite it being a sacred thing that he holds really close, he invites Arthur along

Reason 3: John, Arthur's sort of brother, gets SHOT and MAULED BY WOLVES and Arthur makes fun of him and doesn't treat it seriously. But when Charles burns his hand, Arthur is super doting on him

Reason 4: Arthur doesn't hug people very often, and when he does its always because another person initiates it. He doesn't go in for the hug himself. EXCEPT. With CHARLES. And they hug not once but twice. Once when Arthur finds out that Charles isn't dead, and again when Charles leaves the gang

Reason 4.5: when they hug the last time, you can see them hold hands for about two seconds once the hug has finished, as if they don't want to let go yet. (Which they probably don't because Charles knows that this is probably the last time that he'll see Arthur)

Reason 5: when Mary (again, Arthur's weird ex girlfriend/it's complicated) asks Arthur to run away from the gang and live with her, he says he can't because the gang is his family and he has to stay loyal to Dutch (who is Arthur's father figure/leader of the gang) but when Charles says he's staying to help the Native Americans, Arthur is immediately like "Okay I'll stay too" ............ yeah okay buddy those are totally straight tendencies

Reason 6: Charles is one of the few people that actually shows compassion, care, and offers Arthur a sort of solution when he tells Charles that he's dying. He also says "Oh Arthur" and it's the most devastating thing ever

Reason 7: Charles doesn't make fun of Arthur like. Ever. everyone else calls him stupid and not worth much else than basically a work horse. There are two times when Charles does say it but the first time is when Arthur makes a joke and he goes "you simple minded fool" but like. In a silly way. And the other time Arthur is being Problematic and Charles goes "I know you're not as tough and dense as all that"

Reason 8: Charles goes back for Arthur, finds his body, and buries him. And his grave isn't just the regular tombstone that anyone else's is. It's hand carved wood, on a mountain overlooking the morning sun because "That's what he would have wanted". And there's also flowers purposefully grown there as well

Reason 9: Arthur isn't often given a choice in who he gets to take on missions but when he does, it's always Charles.

Reason 10: Arthur is weirdly submissive towards Charles? Not in a sexual way, but he won't take orders from anyone else besides Dutch and Hosea, and then also Charles.

Reason 11: At the beginning Arthur doesn't just ride anyone's horse, he rides CHARLES'S horse. And also when he dies, Taima takes him to his final resting place

#rdr2 #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption 2 #charthur #charles smith #arthur morgan #they are so devastating to me #silly cowboy game :(#video games #gay men #red dead redemption 2 spoilers

900 notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 5 months ago

Text

No more ink - Spencer Reid x reader

Summary: reader goes undercover for a mission and the team discovers all her tattoos. Tattoos which might be the reason her life ends. sprinkle of spencer x reader. Warning: gore, blood, SA kind of (if you blink you'll miss it), reader is undercover, reader becomes a stripper for like 2 secs.

Staring at the images of several murdered women, all sporting countless tattoos on their bodies, a chill is sent down your spine. What is so fetishising about tattoos? And more importantly, why were all these women so brutally killed after the assault? The uncomfortable silence in the station's big conference room is broken by JJ, who pulls out her phone, stating "Well I'm going to call someone so we can get the tattoos drawn on, Y/N are you sure you're comfortable doing this?" You nodded, adding "Yeah, but there's no need to call anyone."

Your comment had the entire team and police officers in the room looking your way, some confused, many surprised. You glance up at Spencer's reaction, hoping he didn't look disgusted at your confession. Did he dislike women with tattoos? His put together appearance always led you to believing so. "I mean, it's part of the reason I volunteered, I fit the profile the most." And it was true. Many of the women all had the same coloured and textured hair, body type, height and were all littered with tattoos. "How else are we going to get in?" You insisted, all well aware of the gang's strict policy when allowing people into the club. There would be no chance any of your male counterparts would be let in, because only women had ever been targeted by them, and looking between you and the other two women on the team, there was a clear difference between who hit the profile.

"Y/N, I've never seen you with tattoos." Things Morgan out loud, making sure he understood clearly what you meant by fitting the profile best. "People take me more seriously, professionally speaking, when they're hidden." You reply, shrugging your shoulders, which only puts an emphasis on the long sleeved top you're wearing. "Okay wait, just so we're clear here, you mean like you're heavily tatted? Not just one cute little smiley face on your ankle type of tatted?" You chuckle at Emily's small outburst, nodding along with her words. "You know what, why don't I just show you."

You end up revealing yourself to the team a mere hours later, tugging the mini black dress down your body, barely hiding your backside from any onlookers. You step out of the bathroom, basic black heels clicking loudly on the floor, attracting the attention of the team, packing up their things to head down to the van, fully equipped to keep track of you while you're inside. "Okay, I'm ready to go." There's a moment of silence in which the team fully takes in your appearance, or rather your tattoos.

A dark snake slithers up your ankle, and a mysterious year is written in bold above your knee, thigh illustrated with a mysterious design that resembles both stars and a vintage chandelier at once. Your second leg sports several patchwork pieces - an intricate compass and an angel - with two vine leaves curling around your knee, leading up to your thigh where you show off tattoos of a hummingbird and the sun. With your hair pushed back, they have a clear view of the design on your collarbone, dipping slightly into the gap between your breasts, leaving the rest to imagination. Your right arm is covered in a large abstract piece, and when you finally turn around, leaving due to the silence from your teammates, you allow them a perfect view of the wave tattoo on the back of your left arm, looping around your bicep, and a dagger tattoo on the back of your forearm.

Footsteps scurry after you, a soft hand wrapping around your wrist as you begin to leave the police station, pulling you into an empty hallway. Spencer tugs you to face him, eyes filled with worry. "Y/n, are you sure about this?" He whispers, his breath hitting your face with every word he speaks. "I'll be okay Spence." You reassure him, though you're sure he's already profiled you and can sense your nervousness.

In the van, Hotch reminds you of the protocol, securing the microphone into your dress and the clasping the necklace with a hidden camera around your neck, so that he and Garcia can monitor you from outside. They've given you a code word, and secured a silver bracelet around your wrist with a hidden alarm in the gem. Spencer squeezes your hand before you walk out of the van, a safe distance away from the cameras and insists one last time that you can back out any time you want.

You sneak into the hidden alleyway where the club is located, gulping slightly when you spot the bouncer before plastering a fake smile on your face. Everything will be okay, you repeat in your head, calming slightly when the bouncer steps aside for you to walk into a dark room. The door shuts behind you and your breathing quickens slightly, only to realise that the room isn't a room at all, because it's moving and is just an elevator instead. The doors open from behind you, welcoming you into a dark and mysterious, wide room. Red lights are on, and you can spot a stage with two poles, two exotic dancers performing a routine in exact synchrony.

Standing still, you have no idea where to start when a waiter, dressed in a black suit with his hair slicked back appears in front of you. "Champagne?" You nod, taking a glass from the tray not to look suspicious, but don't take a sip from it either. You make your way deeper into the room, swaying your body to the music, scanning the people in the club. For each man, there's at least two women by his side, giggling and brushing up against their arms, pressing kisses where skin is showing. Each woman fits the profile of those who'd been found dead, heavily tatted up, sporting the same features. Women lead men through red curtains, disappearing into different rooms, strutting proudly.

As far as the sex went, it all seemed consensual, meaning they couldn't have been unconscious or drugged before it happened, which completely changed your profile. "What's a sweet girl doing in a place like this all by herself?" You spun around, to face an older man, looking like he was in his late 40's. He sported a grey beard, and had a full head of luscious hair. He wore a crisp black button up with matching black trousers, and you could spot tattoos crawling up his neck and down his hands. "Looking for a man like you." You replied with a smirk, cocking your head to the side. He slid his free hand into yours, leading you into a round booth, where you had a clear view of the rest of the club.

"Tell me a little bit about yourself." You said before he could say anything, pressing your body up against his, and luckily for you, that's what he did. In the meanwhile, you observed the movement in the room, noticing waiters carrying garbage bags or cleaning empty tables. Weird. All the waiters seemed exceptionally muscular, but in a place like this, you would have assumed the waiters would be half naked and, well, women. "You alright, sweetheart?" The man asks, and you nod, smiling up at him sweetly. "I just need to use the bathroom. Do you think you could point me in that direction?" You ask, squeezing your thighs, where his big hand rests.

As soon as he gives you a direction, you hop up, following the first words he's told you 'Walk straight, take a left,' Once you've taken the left, finally out of the man's sight, you begin exploring the halls, becoming gradually more empty the deeper you walk into the club. For every 'private' room, which is only separated from the rest of the club by a curtain, there's a waiter (or rather security guard) standing at the entrance, protecting anyone from entering, or exiting. When you near the end of the hallway, you internally cringe. You had no where to go and a guard protecting the next room to the left. Exhaling, you stopped in front of the guard, looking up at him. "You the dancer?" He asks, and aimlessly, you nod.

You swallow when he steps to the side, letting you into the room. "Cover-up goes in the basket on your left." He instructs, before stepping back out of the room. You take a moment to take in the client, sitting on a red couch with his legs spread, shirt buttoned down all the way to his trousers. What have you done? You turn around, sighing, pulling your black dress over your body, just in time for music to start playing. You spin around, walking over the the man seductively, swaying your hips to the beat of the music until you stop in front of him, placing both hands on his chest. "Oh you're way better than the girl I had last time" The man mutters, groaning as he man spreads even more.

You have a clear view of the tent in his pants but blink a few times, trying to forget its image. Spinning to the music again, you face the wall, eyes glued on where you can see the guard's shoes in front of the curtain as you keep moving to the music. The man's hands settle on your ass, and you let him grope you, shutting your eyes in discomfort, cringing before he turns you to face him. His hands grip your hips instead, pulling you onto him and you follow, straddling his hips while swaying your body. You continue moving until the music dies down, slowing your movements alongside the decreasing volume.

The man puts his hands up, almost defensively, just in time for the guard to come into the room. He doesn't stop walking towards you until he stands right in front of you, and he grabs your arm, leading you to a different door than the one you came through. You try brushing him off you, chest constricting as anxiety builds up in you. "Can I at least have my dress back?" You ask, scoffing as he drags you into an empty room. "Sure, but I'm sure how much it'll do for you now." Instantly, you're pressing down on the gem on your bracelet, heart beginning to race as you look around the small room.

The cracks in the floorboards are stained a red-ish brown, and a single cuff is attached to a wall, where the man is trying to drag you. You recover quickly from you panicky moment, aggressively shoving him off you and bringing a leg up to push him backwards. He staggers back, but recovers quickly, bringing a knife out of his pocket and immediately charging at you. Ducking under his arm, you grab his wrist, trying to wrestle the dagger out of his hand. He stumbles, falling onto the floor, his grip loosening on the knife, which you tug back so hard it bounces back in your direction, cutting a gash through your arm. Just as you take a step forward, getting him whilst he's still down, the door slams open.

"NOBODY MOVE!" Just as you throw your hands up into the air, dropping the dagger onto the floor, a coat is wrapped around your shoulders and you're being pulled into a hug. You freeze for a moment until you smell the familiar essence of dark coffee and vanilla, melting into Spencer's arms as he whispers muffled 'It's okay's soothingly into your hair. Tears unwillingly build up in your eyes and you bring your hands up to grip the bits of Spencer's shirt that stick out from underneath his bulletproof vest.

Slowly, the coat dampens from where you cut yourself, and Spencer quickly realises, removing his arms from around you. "We need to get you to an ambulance." But even as Spencer leads you back outside, still whispering comforting words, that you'll be okay, you know it's not. Because in that moment you silently vow to yourself that you'll never get another tattoo inked into your skin ever again.

462 notes · View notes

vampcubus · 2 years ago

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : kyojuro sure likes to stare, doesn't he? :ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : sfw, gn!reader, pre-established friendship, background obamitsu meddling. :ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 : 1.4k+

Kyojuro, bless his heart, is so hopelessly attracted to you in ways he’s never experienced.

Everything about you draws him in, from your striking beauty to your quick wit, how despite your snark you always treated others with compassion. You were fast friends, not that Kyojuro was particularly difficult to get along with. You’d even argue that such a person as him was impossible to dislike, at least without feeling guilty about it.

He was blunt, genuine, and brimming with so much enthusiasm it tended to unsettle some. But never you. You would look upon him with quiet acceptance, hanging onto his every word. You didn’t seem to mind his complete disregard for eye contact or his erratic conversational skills.

You just get him, he muses. And he’s never felt a kinship like that with anyone.

Kyojuro has always felt like he was moving faster than everyone else, both in mind and body. The man couldn’t sit still or shut up to save his life, or so the other Hashira would say – endearingly of course. No matter the sentiments his comrades held for him, none of them seemed to keep up quite as well as you did. Which is why he presumed you worked so well together.

He could blabber on about anything and have you following along just fine. Though after a few roundabout conversations ranging from swordplay to street food, he musters the confidence to ask if he talked too much for your taste.

You only quirk a brow and snort, “Pffft, of course not! I like listening to you talk.” and you see something shift in his gaze, the softest shade of pink tinting his round cheeks.

It’s around there when the staring starts.

It’s a subtle change at first, catching his wide-eyed gaze from across the training field. Feeling his eyes upon you as you shared meals together. Stumbling over your words when you realize for the first time that he’s actually looking you in the eye as you talk.

It’s a new and exhilarating feeling to be able to admire those honey-colored eyes fully fixated on you for a change. Too often you found yourself staring back. And the way he brightens when your eyes meet sends your fickle heart into pesky palpitations every time. You swore his pupils bled further into his golden-red irises every time he spotted you.

The idea of his eyes dilating at the mere sight of you endears you even more fiercely to him. As if such a thing was possible. You’re already attached at the hip, not to mention the dozens of joint missions you’ve taken.

His exuberance could be trying when your objective was to blend in, but his swordsmanship more than made up for it. He was incredibly good at taking the edge off when tensions were high, he was an emotional pillar of support, and you were honored to have his focus.

The beloved Flame Hashira was enthusiastic about many things, but you most of all it seemed. You’ve been told by several other Hashira that you were one of his favorite topics of conversation. The image of him gushing about you to other people is as embarrassing as it is flattering.

“Y/n is so easygoing, I cherish their company!”

“Did you know Y/n makes the best rice cakes?”

“Y/n is such a fierce swordsman, I am honored to fight at their side!”

“Y/n this, Y/n that. You’re all he talks about you know,” Iguro points a finger in your face one morning.

“So I’ve heard,” you hum, hand perched lazily on the hilt of your sword, though you’re unsure of precisely why he’s telling you this. Your eyes stray to Kaburamaru, who only flicks his tongue at you, leisurely slithering down Iguro’s shoulder from his coiled position around his neck.

You’ve always known the Serpent Hashira to be abrasive and confrontational, but the sudden interest in your relationship with Rengoku was uncharacteristic. Especially since he usually disregarded your presence unless he had something to criticize. You didn’t dislike him, but you wouldn’t say that you were close.

Did he know something you didn’t?

You try not to make assumptions based on the worries of others, but Kyojuro’s childhood friend approaching you out of the blue to tell you something like that? It makes you wonder just what sort of things Kyojuro has been saying about you to warrant such an interrogation.

Was Iguro trying to discern your intentions as a way of looking out for him? Perhaps your feelings for Kyojuro weren’t as internalized as you’d thought.

“Is this your way of saying you’ll snap me like a twig if I break his heart?” you ask, lips curling up into a sly grin, head cocked to one side.

Heterochromatic eyes blink in surprise, and then narrow.

“You catch on quick.”

“You can relax, Iguro. I won’t hurt him.”

“Few can be entirely sure of that. For your sake, I hope that’s the truth,” he waves you off, turning away in disinterest upon hearing your response.

The encounter leaves you with mixed feelings. Would Iguro have asked if he didn’t already know how Rengoku felt in return? It's an unsettling and gnawing feeling. Not the idea that your feelings could be returned, just the uncertainty of it all. If Iguro noticed it, why didn’t you?

“Iguro approached me earlier,” you say as you sit across from the flame-haired swordsman, currently having lunch at one of your favorite spots to eat.

“Did he now?” Kyojuro acknowledges, eyes still closed as he stuffs another bite of octopus into his mouth. His round cheeks puff out cutely, the image of a chipmunk with its cheeks full of nuts forming in your mind.

“He told me you talk about me a lot.”

“All good things of course!” he assures, seemingly unbothered by the news.

“That’s the thing,” you chuckle nervously, poking at your food with your chopsticks. Kyojuro’s eyes fluttered open, now focused on your fidgeting hands. “He seemed concerned that you had feelings for me beyond friendship.”

It’s silent for a moment, and you stuff food into your mouth to escape it, eyes focused on your plate. You can feel his gaze, but you’re too intimidated to meet it.

“Would that be a bad thing?” for once, Kyojuro sounds nervous.

It's a subtle strain in his tone that others who didn’t know him as well might have missed. But years of close proximity have made you perceptive to the almost invisible chinks in his armor. Kyojuro was heavily guarded for being such a friendly man, always eager to lend a hand or ear when others were in distress, but quick to clam up when it came to his own problems.

Your heartbeat skips, excited and terrified. Was that a confession? Were you reading too far into things? Was the question rhetorical? All these questions well up inside until you feel like you’ll burst.

You can’t help but let out an exasperated sigh.

“You’re so hard to read,” you lamented, nearly jumping out of your skin when his fingers brush yours from across the table.

“Perhaps If you looked at me, you’d have an easier time,” he laughs, and your heart already feels lighter at the joyous sound.

The anxiety in your tummy melts into giddiness, and you demurely tilt your head up to meet his eyes. They’re crinkled fondly, pupils large, and fully fixated on yours. His golden-red eyes consume yours, inspiring your fingers to twitch against his. You can only compare such an expression to a smitten puppy.

You suddenly feel silly for entertaining any doubts that the Flame Hashira was any less enamored than you were.

“To be completely honest, I have been interested in you romantically for quite some time now, and at a loss of how to contain such strong feelings,” he confessed, and suddenly a lot of things started making sense.

He stared at you so much because he liked you. He talked about you so much because he liked you. He let you tag along to missions he could have easily handled on his own because he liked you. Iguro approached you because he noticed.

“Then no, I don’t think that would be a bad thing at all.” You turn your hand with your palm facing upward to accept his own into your grasp.

Kyojuro’s smile widens, and he nearly shakes the entire restaurant with the volume of his declaration of, “WONDERFUL!”

“See, Obanai? I told you they just needed a little push!” Mitsuri gushes from across the restaurant, just her green eyes and the top of her head peeking over the menu.

#‧₊🦇˚⊹ ashi writes #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader

5K notes · View notes