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yourboopyboop · 3 days

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Bake me a Bun

Soap/Retired!Soap x f!reader Fluff with a slight suggestive line, daydreaming, get this man a baby. Mild stalking(?) I do not know if I should be continuing this ^^ (There will be eventual smut if I keep writing this, also might end up adding some TW because we all know what happens when you tell stories about wounded soldiers) Divider credits go to @vibeswithrenai , lovely work, I recommend checking them out ^^

Johnny is at his roots, a family man. Scottish mead flows through his veins, so does the sweet pie his grandma used to bake.

Before retiring, Soap liked to spend some of his 'vacations' with the whole MacTavish family. Lunch here, brunch there, and kids that flap their pa's kilt just before dinner. He would play chase with the wee lads, loved by his nephews and known as 'Big Uncle'. Often carrying two rascals at a time, or letting losing against them on a hand to hand battle, he was a truly warm and homecoming man.

"John, when ya givin' me sum' wee bairns?" His nan would often ask.

To what his answer would be, between gritted teeth "No bon, no bun, nan. Army giv' no time f'tha"

And so then, he was shot.

Retirement didn't treat him that badly, just gave him a rather permanent headache and a scar on his temple.

Doctors told him to stay put, to enjoy his free time on the hospital' open gardens, the oxygen would do him good they said. But Soap was not a man that would be sitting there, staying still after years of battlefield, movement and stress.

Yet, after trying to get away a couple of times and finally sat down by Price, he took the orders and stayed put like a good kid.

He owed Simon one. The man had managed to push him a fraction away from the bullet trajectory, earning himself a sprained ankle. He would often visit Johnny when free, although for a brief time, dropping telltales of what the squad had been up to. Gaz was the one to stick around most, nagging him about finally being out of the hellhole that being a SAS operator was. They would watch their football together, until nurses told him that they needed to do a check-up.

On a rare sunny day, the whole squad visited him. Price had brought a letter from Alejandro, wishing him the best recovery, and to visit whenever he felt like. The wind almost blew the paper away, sitting in a bench under a tree.

"Bet ya miss us son" John muttered, a tired smile on his face. Soap groaned, rolling his eyes, "honestly, I think I prefer t'share some sweat with yall, rather than this hell of a cell" Even Simon laughed at that.

" 's no sunshine 'round. Bloody white walls fucking strain my eyes every single damn day" He would keep complaining. "I don't miss ya nagging tho" Ghost quipped teasingly.

And so they laughed, walking around looking like a group of old childhood friends that threw shit at each other, being Gaz the one with the most pointy comments "I can't fathom sleep without ya snoring Soap"

Something bumped against Price, earning their stop and a tiny, quiet "sorry" from a tiny, young voice. It was a young lad, no more than six summers at his back. He looked rather scared; faced by an old man, a wounded soldier, a guy with only his eyes visible and a piercing gaze under a cap.

Price squatted "No need to be, lad. Where's ya mum?" The kid shook his head and pointed to a woman, not far away from their position, that was surrounded by kids. She seemed stressed, looking around with wide eyes until she spotted the young boy.

"Oh Matt! Don't go running away like that you little rascal!" She rushed to the kid, and made eye contact with the Captain. "I'm so sorry sir, can't really keep all the kids still sometimes"

"Visit trip?" Price tilted his head slightly, to what she nodded. "We like to show the young ones to respect the injured" Her smile was almost as warm as the sun that day. "They gotta learn more than numbers and letters in school after all"

She took the kid away after apologizing once again, urging the little one to go back with the whole group, that she graciously guided around the hospital garden.

A second pair of blues followed her around as she went by, earning a chuckle from Kyle "Looks like he has a reason to stay here now"

"Hells Bells" The only thing he could say.

For what he could see from his room's window, it was a whole week of field trips for different classes.

To his eyes, she paraded around with the kids, with a sweet smile and warm eyes, showing the little humans things around, be it the entrances, the pond, or making small talk with some old lady that was condemned to stay her last days in that white prison. Like he felt, incarcerated for his health, until the doctors decided his wound and other past poorly healed injuries would not hinder him from having a "normal" life from now on.

For you, you were trying to show the kids some hospitality, to be respectful and appreciate the healthcare and what it could do for the people. For them to listen to the old tales of those veterans in life, or to enjoy the breeze and the grass after walking around for a long time.

Johnny was mesmerized. Completely lost in those warm expressions you always had dancing on your face, or in how you guided the children with caressing palms. Maybe it was the ring of your voice, that now rose above the constant tingle of his newly acquired wound, or the manners that you carried around. He felt strangely isolated in the room, a constant need to go outside and enjoy the grass, of course he wasn't trying to get a chance to talk with you.

Right?

So there he was, again in a bench. And that day he decided to hang his dog tags around his neck. "What a show-off" Simon groaned before saying goodbye couple of hours ago. "Don't come sulking if you scare her away you mutt", and a pat on the back.

It was the same boy as the other day, the one that approached him mesmerized by the shining plates on his neck. Matt sat on the floor, inquiring about what did Johnny do for a living. 'What is that? What do you do? Oh that's so cool!' he would chirp here and there.

Johnny couldn't really say no to the wee thing in front of him, puffing his chest and sharing some of his less-bloodied trips. The puff was taken down by a sudden nervousness when he saw you approaching again.

"Matt how many times do I have to tell you not to go astray from the group" She came already scolding the boy. "Oh, you are from the other day, right sir?"

Ah, she remembered him.

"Just doin' me time in here for a bit" Johnny answered with a boyish smile. "Can't blame the wean, he was all giddy 'n' interested"

"And what might that interest be?" You squatted a bit, poking Matt's cheek. "Miss. L/n this is Soap!" Oh, he got your last name now, maybe Laswell was willing to do some digging as a reward for his honorary actions right? Did he just call you Miss? That in his mind was a Jackpot. "And what does...Mr. Soap do?" She looked at him from bellow, her eyes flickering to his dog tags for a second. "I just tell old tales of sweaty men trying to save the world"

You weren't able to peel Matt from his spot, resigned, decided to indulge in some old stories, bringing the whole group so they could all listen to a veteran's yapping.

"So my mate, you see, big scary man with a mask" He would say, "took'em all down real fast i'm telling ya"

His eyes would often flick from kid to kid, landing on your face. To his delight, you were also caught in his stories, attentive eyes and full focused on how his mouth moved.

"And I was all alone! Havin' to scramble what I could! Bad men trynna catch me but I'm telling yall, nobody cannae stop the Soap" The boasting was impressive. How proud Johnny was of his doings, how he managed to tell his story in Las Almas without mentioning the cartel, or the corruption. "Even took a bloody bullet!" He pointed to his fresh scar, still healing. And that's when he saw your eyes turn somber, rather cold. "Alright kids, Mr. Soap here has lot's of stories, but surely that means he's very tired right? Let's go visit more places around!" After insisting a bit, you peeled the children away from his circle and quickly whispered to him with a disappointed gaze "I do have no doubt on what you did to protect people, but please, showing wounds and violence to children is not appropriate"

When you turned away, he sulked. He had fucked up. Ghost was right, he showed off too much and fucked up big time. He wanted to chase after you, to grab your wrist and apologize. To promise not to use those marks again if it meant seeing your bonnie face.

Yet knowing it would only make it worse, he silently went away, locking himself in the white room and not letting the nurses come in.

"Fucked up" He told Price. "Bonnie thing didn't like when I told the bairns about the bullet"

He earned a sigh, and a folder on his lap. "Didn't Simon tell you to slow down? I'm glad you still got some energy in you, son." Soap cursed under his breath, taking the folder and giving it a quick read. "You know me Sir"

Your whole legal name was there. Education, birthplace, family. Everything. Just a normal civilian, with a normal job. A teacher, the daughter of a warm family.

The folder didn't explain your charming eyes, or the small smiles you would make when a child showed you something. The information didn't do you any beauty, and he was pissed.

He had to hear it from you. Your own name, then his. Then again his name between some whispers or whimpers even. Not long after, Price took him for a walk, trying to pull him away from the constant frown that adorned his forehead.

It was Friday, he could tell you were a bit more energetic than the past day. Guessed it was the last visit you had to bring to the hospital, the last time he would probably see you if he was the one to respect boundaries. But what boundaries if he already had your address and identification number.

"You thinkin' about her still?" Price inquired, sipping on some cheap tea from the cafeteria. "Can't shake it cap. I just cannae. I gotta go tell her I'm sorry or sumthin'" He crossed his arms on his chest, right leg nervously bouncing under the table. "You seen how she look' with the bairns?" That earned a chuckle from the older man.

And bless the heavens he thought, when you entered the room with the group of children, dividing them in groups around multiple tables and asking the barista to make around thirteen milkshakes. You stayed on the counter, counting each quid to later report it to the school.

Price stood up, gave Johnny a pat on the shoulder. "Second try won't hurt you more than the first" He walked away, leaving Soap to shed his personal coat, turning into the homeboy Johnny once more.

"Hey"

You sighed, looking at him. "Sorry 'bout the other day. Got carried away" he mumbled "thought wee things would like something more...thrilling"

"Still not the best thing to say"

"I ken"

"They kept repeating your stories after that." His eyes flickered "Even started calling the other patients by 'sir' or 'ma'am'" Finally you met his eyes, hiding a shudder under your skin feeling like he was seeing right past your soul with those blue gems. This of course didn't pass by him.

"Ya enjoyed 'em?"

"Perhaps"

He leaned in a bit, not yet getting into your space, but enough to give you a tiny whiff of his soft scent. Was it citrusy? Warmth was on it, a little bit fruity but not overwhelming. You could swear there was a tinge of all-in-one shampoo too.

"Okay, yes. I liked your stories." Finally surrendering to his observing gaze, you relaxed on the counter a bit, the barista slowly pulling out the milkshakes. "Still, too bloody for some group of children"

"Hm. You know, even me ol' boss scolded me" The most heavenly chuckle swarmed his ears. "The man with the hat?" Johnny flashed a smirk, eyebrows gathering in the middle giving you an apologizing look and offering you his hand "Johnny's the name"

Johnny helped you bring the milkshakes to the tables, and again started telling his stories. This time with your consenting look, avoiding violence or blood on them.

There was a tiny difference now. His eyes weren't the only ones fluttering between the children and you. Lost in him, in his pearls, sometimes having to scramble your brains to understand his accent and phrasing. Unable to keep eye contact for long, covering your flush by turning your attention to the kids.

You couldn't really lie, he was charming. A warm smile and soft, piercing eyes. A voice that was like silk, but sometimes rugged, unable to ignore how his hands, rather calloused, accompanied the movements of his voice. The dog tags that he still wore, now tucked under his shirt, chain making waves over his collarbone, adorned by a thick and strong neck.

He seemed less proud, and more invested into the stories now. It wasn't about boasting anymore, but a constant fight to keep the kids hooked, and subsequently you too. He bathed proudly on how your cheeks would rose up a bit, or how you fidgeted with the soft fabric sometimes tracing the figures of the funny and childish patterns you wore. He wanted to up the tone, to impress you more like a bird trying to court his counterpart.

But he was a trained man that rarely made mistakes, a quick learner on top of that, not hitting the same rock twice.

Time passed, milkshakes were empty and some kids couldn't keep their eyes fully open. With a rather tired voice, a little raspy from the constant storytelling he chuckled at the wobbly tiny heads in front of him.

"Tired them all" You softly smiled, exhaustion also apparent on your face.

"Do I pass the test, Miss. L/n? Stories good enough?" He leaned slightly against you, a friendly shoulder bump earning another holy chuckle from your lips. "I give you an 8, missed some staging".

"Oh lass, I cannae be doin' backflips and shi- stuff" He corrected himself and tapped to his temple, the scar now healing better "Quite rude to be askin' tha' from a poor wounded soldier"

With a smile, you dismissed him and woke up some of the kids, telling them it was already time to go back home. Some of them whined, wanting to listen to more stories, trying to make you promise for it, something that Johnny eagerly supported, teasing you a bit. Others were completely fried, yawning and rubbing their eyes.

Before leaving the cafeteria, you turned around and thanked him. "Johnny, right? Mine is Y/n" Oh but that he already knew, although it didn't bother him hearing it from your mouth.

What he didn't know was that you would visit him next Monday, taking with you some homemade buns you had made, showing gratitude for his help the past week.

Maybe he didn't fuck up that much, and maybe he could win you over by winning over the kids.

And he was good with children.

#cod x reader #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #cod soap

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purplehairedwonder · 2 years

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Hearts With(out) Chains chapter 22

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Monkey D. Luffy/Trafalgar Law (eventual), Donquixote Doflamingo/Trafalgar Law (nonconsensual) Words: 4,038 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Donquixote Doflamingo, Trebol, Diamante, Monkey D. Luffy, Bepo, Shachi, Penguin Notes: I’m taking my turn at the Corazon!Law AU because my brain won’t leave me alone until this is written down. Tags will be updated as the chapters come out.

Summary: Law is reclaimed by the Family when he’s 17 and, with Doflamingo holding the lives of his crew as collateral for his good behavior, eventually becomes the third Corazon. Years later, trapped by his impossible situation, Law finds a strange connection to Monkey D. Luffy, which offers a glimpse of something he’s repeatedly had ripped away from him: hope.

Previous chapters: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21

Missing scenes: Pre-story, Chapter 5, Chapter 20

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

The weight of Doflamingo’s gaze was heavy as the carriage took them back to the palace—and away from the allies Law had risked everything to join. Rather than meet Doflamingo’s gaze, Law looked out the window, watching the familiar streets pass and Dressrosans go about their morning routines, unaware of hidden goings on in the city. But hadn’t that always been true here?

The further the carriage moved away from the Colosseum, the stronger the old tug in Law’s chest became once more. He did his best to ignore it, telling himself that he didn’t regret making the deal, not when it meant the safety of his nakama and the Straw Hats. However, he was also fully aware of what it meant for him; fulfilling his side would undoubtedly break something in him irreparably.

Though perhaps he was surprised to find there was still something left in him to be broken at all. Luffy had sparked an ember of hope behind his breast that he hadn’t known still existed until Punk Hazard, but Doflamingo had quickly extinguished it once more. There was no going back after this, but it was a price worth paying after all the pain he had caused the people he loved.

The carriage jolted as it rolled over uneven ground, and the resulting flare of pain that radiated from his abdomen pulled Law from his thoughts with a curse. He slumped back in his seat, eyes sliding shut as he rode out the agony.

“In pain?” Doffy asked. Law opened his eyes to give the Warlord a sour look, and Doffy’s lips twitched in amusement.

“Are these still necessary?” Law asked, gesturing with his shackled wrists. “We made a deal.”

“You’ll have to forgive my hesitance to trust you, little bird.”

Law pressed his lips into a thin line before replying, “I’m not going to risk the freedom of my nakama by going back on our agreement.” That would defeat the entire purpose of the deal.

“No,” Doffy said after a moment. “I suppose you wouldn’t. Sentiment has always been a weakness of yours.”

Law bit down on his retort as Doflamingo reached into his coat and pulled out the key. Law sat up and held his wrists out. Doffy unlocked the cuffs, careful to avoid touching the Seastone himself. Once the restraints clicked open and fell to the carriage floor, Law inhaled sharply as his energy returned and he could feel his fruit again. Being exposed to Seastone always made Law feel like he was looking at the world slightly out of focus, and its removal slotted everything back into its rightful place.

Law sighed in relief before holding a hand to his bandaged abdomen. He opened a small Room and performed a Scan; Doflamingo’s bullets had torn through skin and muscle, but they’d avoided anything vital. Uni, Kani, and Iruka had done an admirable job of removing the bullets and closing up the wounds. Thankfully, though, Law’s fruit allowed him to speed up the healing process; what would take weeks, if not months, for a normal person would only take a few days for Law.

He did the same for his hand, grimacing at the number of breaks his crew had had to set before accelerating the healing of the bone. Even with the excellent work of his crew and the accelerated healing, there was a not insignificant chance his hand wouldn’t function the way it had before. As a surgeon, that terrified Law.

Forcing his concerns aside—all that was left was to wait and watch the healing process—Law dropped his Room and leaned back in his seat. Doflamingo was watching him intently.

“I never grow tired of seeing your mastery with your fruit,” Doffy said at last. “Though I never intended for you to have the Ope Ope no Mi, it seems as if you were destined for each other.”

Law wasn’t sure what to say to that. He knew Doflamingo intended Cora-san to have it, unaware that Cora-san was already a fruit user, so he could manipulate his brother into making him immortal. Now Law was the one with the ability to do so, and Law had just made an agreement to do whatever Doflamingo asked of him. He didn’t doubt that that surgery would be the cornerstone of his to-do list.

Law was saved from having to respond by the carriage pulling to a stop at the palace gates. As the footman opened the door, Law glanced out the window and grimaced when he saw the other executives standing atop the steps, waiting for their arrival. Their gathering like this was never a good sign.

“Come,” Doffy ordered before stepping out of the carriage. Law had no choice but to follow.

“Welcome back, Young Master,” Baby 5 called as Doffy rounded the carriage.

“What happened with Coraz—” Gladius started before cutting himself off as Law came into view. His eyes went wide as he looked between Law and Doflamingo. The other executives burst into indecipherable chatter, though it was clear they were unhappy.

“Ne, ne, Doffy. Is this wise?” Trebol asked, eyes narrowing. “You know how he is.”

“Corazon and I have reached an understanding,” Doflamingo said, placing a hand on Law’s shoulder. His grip was iron, and Law had to fight not to flinch in response. “There will be no further need to question his loyalty.”

Law could feel the stares of the others falling on him, so he did what he did best—allow the mask of Corazon to slip on. It was as natural as breathing after all these years. He straightened his spine, raised his chin, and twisted his lips into a smirk, which only further infuriated the other executives.

“I know you don’t intend to question the Young Master’s judgment, Trebol,” Law sneered.

The sentient slime bucket gaped for several seconds before simpering, “Never, Doffy. I am simply expressing my… concerns.”

“Noted,” Doflamingo replied coolly before using his grip to steer Law toward the palace. The executives moved aside to allow Law and Doffy through before falling in step behind them up the steps and into the palace entryway.

Doflamingo released his grip and looked down at Law. “We will make an island-wide announcement of our deal.”

Law nodded. That would be the best way to make sure the two scattered crews knew they had the chance to leave unharmed. It also meant he could make sure Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin were freed. He turned toward the dungeon but froze when Doflamingo’s hand found his shoulder once more.

“And where are you going, little bird?”

Law glanced back at Doflamingo. “To the dungeon. Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin are no longer prisoners. Per our deal,” he added with emphasis.

“That can wait until after the announcement. There is much to do first.” Doflamingo looked Law up and down a moment before adding, “Clean yourself up and meet me in the throne room in one hour.”

Law narrowed his eyes, but he knew he couldn’t disobey so soon after their agreement. He spared a glance in the direction of the dungeon before jerking his head in acquiescence. “Yes, Doffy.”

He strode past the gathered executives toward his chambers, raising an amused eyebrow at Trebol and Diamante, who were glowering. Just as he turned the corner toward the executives’ wing, he heard Doflamingo ask, “Any news on Violet?”

“No,” Giolla said. “No one has seen her since yesterday afternoon.”

The conversation faded from Law’s ears as he kept walking. Violet was gone? His stomach twisted. If she’d decided to defect just as Law had turned himself back in to the Family, he could very well have inadvertently signed her death warrant while trying to save everyone else.

Unless she could get out with the Hearts and Straw Hats…

No. Law discarded the thought before it had finished forming; she was much too loyal to her father, to her niece, and to Dressrosa to do that.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he reached the door to his chambers. He opened the door and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. When he turned back to face the room, he froze. There was a bloody gash on the wall where Diamante had stabbed his hand and another dark stain on the carpet where Law had fallen forward onto his injured hand. His hat still lay on the floor. Law walked over to the spot and picked up the hat, running a hand over the soft fur. He placed it on the bed atop the coat he’d worn to Punk Hazard. Kikoku was still on the bed under his coat as well. Law ran a hand along the sheath and could feel the sword’s pleased hum and the return of her master.

He turned back toward his desk, taking in his Den Den Mushi and the blueprints. He ran a hand over the blueprints, something twisting inside him. He wouldn’t need these anymore, would he? His nakama would be free, and Law would hold up his end of the bargain. He took the papers and folded them then placed them back into the secret compartment at the bottom of the drawer.

When he looked back at the desk, he realized Luffy’s straw hat was gone. Law was sure he’d left it there after using it as a ruse to pretend he’d killed the other captain. Thinking back, though, Luffy had been wearing his signature hat when Law had last seen him. Had Luffy been in his room? Or had Violet or one of the other Hearts retrieved it? He supposed it didn’t matter—as long as…

His eyes flicked up to the vent where the surveillance snail sat recording his room. As long as they hadn’t been caught on film.

There was nothing Law could do about that at the moment, so he pushed the problem to the back of his mind for later. He went into the bathroom and shut the door. He turned the shower on and stripped his clothes. Then he set to carefully pulling the bandages from his chest. Once the bandages were off, a quick Scan showed the accelerated healing was already taking effect, beginning to stitch the damage beneath together. He also pulled the splint from his hand to keep it from getting wet. Unsurprisingly, his was swollen and mottled with bruises, though a Scan showed the bones were already starting to heal.

Law stepped into the shower and washed the blood from his skin and hair, careful not to jostle his injured hand. Once he was satisfied he was clean, he stepped out and ran a towel over himself. After wrapping it around his waist, he pulled out his personal medical kit. His first task was to rebandage his chest. The wounds might be healing well, but they still needed to be covered. It was a challenge since he could only use one hand, but he had taught himself to be functionally ambidextrous for times like this, so he was able to finish the task with minimal frustration.

Then Law turned his attention to his hand; his nakama had been limited to a short splint while his wrist was shackled, but how that it was free, he could use a more supportive one, as he was not going to risk to use of his dominant hand. Once the hand was wrapped and splinted, he headed back into the bedroom. He pulled a clean shirt and jeans from his closet and quickly dressed. He pulled his hat on and settled Kikoku against his shoulder, a familiar weight that grounded him, with a loose grip necessitated by the splint.

A glance at the clock told Law he needed to leave to meet Doflamingo’s deadline. After a moment’s deliberation, he grabbed his Den Den Mushi from his desk and pocketed it then headed out the door.

The route to the throne room was one Law knew by heart after so many years in the palace, and it was with equal amounts of relief and dread that Law took those steps. Once he reached the throne room, the guards at the door bowed him in. Law allowed his Corazon mask to fall into place once more and walked through the doors.

-----

Doflamingo sat on his throne while Law stood at his right side and slightly behind him. The video snail turned on, and the broadcast went live.

“Citizens of Dressrosa,” Doflamingo began, his arms resting easily on the throne, the picture of a confident monarch. “I regret that I must interrupt your day with an important announcement.”

Law stifled a snort at that. No one liked hearing themselves speak the way Doflamingo did. He relished any chance to be in front of the people.

“There are pirates on this island that seek to undermine our way of life. But there is no need to fear. You are in no danger, so long as those pirates listen to my words.

“To the Hearts and the Straw Hat Pirates, Corazon and I have reached an agreement,” Doflamingo continued, gesturing back at Law. Law kept his expression carefully neutral. “You have until noon to leave Dressrosa. You will be neither harmed nor impeded in your exit.

“If, however, any of you remain on Dressrosa once noon has passed, you will be treated as enemy combatants, and the full weight of the Donquixote Family will come down upon you.”

Doflamingo’s expression twisted into a rictus grin. “I assure you, that is a choice you will regret. So, make the right decision. For yourself and for Corazon.”

Those final words hit Law like a blow, and he stiffened as the broadcast ended.

Doflamingo turned to look at Law. “I’ve held up my end of the bargain, little bird.” There was something predatory in his expression that set Law’s teeth on edge. “Now, it’s your turn.”

He rose from his throne and held out a hand; Law was suddenly reminded of the first night Doflamingo had taken him to his bed after an evening chess game Law had won for once. Once Law had declared checkmate, Doflamingo had hummed thoughtfully before leaning back in his own chair and steepling his fingers. With the motion, his entire aura had shifted, sharpening in a way that made the hairs on the back of Law’s neck stand on end, much as they did now.

“You deserve a reward.”

“A reward?” Law asked warily.

“Indeed,” Doflamingo said before pushing himself to his feet. He held out a hand to Law. “Stay the night with me.”

Law took a steadying breath and reached out to take Doflamingo’s hand. The larger man pulled Law to his feet, his fingers tracing the inside of Law’s wrist before letting him go. Law shivered despite himself, and Doflamingo’s lips twitched, pleased. The Warlord then turned on his heel and headed out of the study, clearly expecting Law to follow him.

Law did.

“Show me you mean to keep your end as well.”

Law chanced a glance between Doflamingo’s outstretched hand and the glowers of Diamante and Trebol on the other side of the throne room. Knowing what he had to do, Law turned his gaze back to Doffy’s and took the Warlord’s hand.

“As you wish,” Law said, inclining his head.

Doflamingo smirked at Law’s easy agreement then turned back to the room. “Trebol, I’m leaving you in charge. Make sure we are not disturbed.”

“Of course, Young Master,” Trebol said, bowing. However, Law knew the slime bucket was silently cursing his name as Doffy led him down the stairs and out the back exit toward his quarters.

Once they reached the familiar double doors leading to Doflamingo’s chambers, Law allowed himself to be ushered inside. As Doflamingo shut and locked the doors behind them, Law made his way over to the bed and rested Kikoku against the wall.

When he turned back to the room, Doflamingo was shoving into his space. With one hand, he pulled the hat from Law’s head and rested it on the nightstand. Then he cupped Law’s cheek with a hand, his thumb stroking up and down.

“My Corazon,” he murmured. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

Law blinked in surprise at the candid words. “Doffy?”

Doffy chuckled. “Fufufu, you’re always thinking the worst of me, little one. But you are very precious to me. I would let a hundred pirate crews go to keep you by my side. They mean nothing.”

Maybe my fruit is precious to you, Law thought, though kept his expression neutral.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said instead.

“Our deal,” Doflamingo agreed, and his thumb stopped stroking Law’s cheek. “Anything I want, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Show me, Corazon,” Doffy breathed. “On your knees.”

Law’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he shuddered at the way Doflamingo’s voice dropped an octave, but then he opened them and nodded. He dropped to the floor as Doflamingo unbuckled his pants. This is the price of their freedom, he thought. And I’d pay it a thousand times over.

-----

The sound of his Den Den Mushi ringing pulled Law from his doze. As he hurriedly rolled out of Doflamingo’s bed, he glanced back at the closed bathroom door, the sound of the shower running thankfully covering the sound of his snail. He scrambled to find his jeans then dug around the pockets until he found the snail.

“Hello?” he answered in a hushed voice.

“Captain,” Bepo wailed, and Law winced at the volume.

“Bepo—” Law started before his brain caught up with the moment. Bepo and the others were supposed to be in the dungeon. How were they calling him on his Den Den Mushi? “Bepo, where are you?”

“In the middle of town,” Penguin broke in. “We had to find a Den Den Mushi after that batshit announcement went out. What the hell, Captain?”

Law blinked dazedly. “You’re not in the dungeon?”

“Violet broke us out yesterday,” Shachi broke in impatiently. “She took us to the Colosseum to hide out, and we met up with Straw Hat this morning.”

“Toraooooo,” Luffy called somewhere in the background. “Why did you leave?” and Law furtively glanced back at the door once more, relieved to hear the shower still running.

“You were at the Colosseum this morning?” Law echoed in shock. Doflamingo had said…

No, Law realized belatedly, Doflamingo had implied Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin were still in the dungeon. He’d never said it directly. And he hadn’t wanted Law to go down and free them when they’d gotten back to the palace. Fuck. Law had been played.

“We saw you leave, Captain,” Bepo said quietly, and Law’s chest twisted.

“What kind of agreement did you make?” Penguin asked. “What did he mean by that, Law?”

“We reached an agreement for your freedom,” Law said. “All of you.”

“At what cost?” Shachi demanded.

Law huffed a humorless laugh. “I gave him what he’s always wanted. Me.” He glanced at the clock on Doflamingo’s nightstand. “You have half an hour until noon. Please get out of here. All of you.”

“Dammit, Captain,” Penguin cursed. “Stop trying to do all this by yourself!”

Law’s eyes narrowed, suddenly defensive of his decision. “I had to,” he growled. “The only reason you’re all here is because of me. Doflamingo’s held you hostage and punished you all these years because of me. The Straw Hats are only here because of me. If the choice is between my life and all of yours, it’s an obvious choice.”

Law glanced back toward the bathroom door once more and realized the shower had stopped running. “I have to go. Get the rest of the crew, and get out of Dressrosa,” Law said hurriedly. He could feel something cracking in his chest as he spoke. “Those are my last orders as your captain.”

“But—”

Law hung up the call, cracks spreading within him, just as the bathroom door opened. Doflamingo had a towel wrapped around his waist, and he raised an eyebrow at Law.

“Corazon?”

Law grabbed his jeans and slid the Den Den Mushi back into the pocket in one motion before rising. “I was about to get dressed—unless you intend to go another round.” He raised a questioning eyebrow.

Doflamingo snorted. “Don’t tempt me.” He crossed the room and gripped Law’s chin. He leaned in and pressed his lips against Law’s, nipping his bottom lip before smoothing it over with his tongue. Law’s eyes slid shut, following the other man’s lead, unable to stop a small groan as Doflamingo’s tongue entered his mouth. Doflamingo’s hands trailed up and down Law’s spine, making him shiver.

They broke apart after another moment, Doflamingo pressing his forehead against Law’s. “I could get lost in you all day, Corazon.”

“I’m all yours,” Law replied, quickly glancing at the clock to see how fast noon was approaching. Soon. The longer he could keep Doffy occupied, the longer his people had to get out.

“That’s right,” Doffy growled, reaching down to grab underneath Law’s thighs. Law nearly yelped in surprise as Doffy lifted him up and carried him back to the bed. He dropped Law on his back then climbed into the bed, towering over Law. His towel didn’t leave much to the imagination at this point.

Law was embarrassed to realize he was already half hard at the attention. In the last couple of years, his body had learned Doflamingo’s touch, and the Warlord knew how to take him apart and make him beg. If he could use that to his advantage now…

Doflamingo leaned down, his huge frame covering Law’s slight on,e and started sucking a bruise into his neck. Law turned his head to give Doflamingo more access, and he grinned into Law’s neck. Law wrapped his arms around Doflamingo’s neck, and Doflamingo rolled his hips.

“Fuck,” Law cursed, his eyes rolling back at the sensation.

“Planning on it,” Doffy replied in a possessive growl against Law’s next, and Law’s hips bucked in response. He hated himself for it, but it was keeping Doffy’s attention, and that was what mattered most, Law’s pride be damned.

Doffy’s hands were starting to move down Law’s chest when a banging on the door startled them both. Law pushed up on his uninjured arm while Doffy peered over his shoulder at the locked door.

“Y-young Master!” the poor soul on the other side called.

“What is it?” Doflamingo snarled, furious at being interrupted.

“M-master Trebol said to summon you, sir.”

Doflamingo’s expression narrowed at the mention of Trebol. He rolled off Law and stalked toward the door. With a wave of his hand, the door unlocked, and a terrified soldier cowered on the other side under the gaze of the king; the fact Doflamingo was wearing nothing more than a towel didn’t even seem to register for the poor bastard.

“Summon me for what?”

“H-he said you need to see it for yourself, sir.”

Doflamingo growled but nodded. The soldier scampered off and Doflamingo slammed the door shut once more. His gaze met Law’s. “I guess we’ll have to put this on pause, little bird.”

Law nodded, and both men quickly scrounged for their discarded clothes. Once Law pulled his boots on, he was thankful he could use his hat to hide his hair. He grabbed Kikoku, and nodded at Doflamingo, who was waiting at the door. He followed Doflamingo down the halls toward the entrance hall, where he found the executives gathered.

“What’s going on?” Doflamingo demanded as he pushed through to Trebol’s side.

Trebol simply nodded out to the front gates. Doflamingo stepped outside. Law stepped out beside him after trading a barbed look with Trebol then froze at the sight that greeted him.

Luffy stood in the middle of the palace grounds, Bepo, Shachi, Penguin right behind him. The rest of the Hearts—as well as Violet and Rebecca—and Straw Hats were scattered behind the quartet.

Law’s eyes widened while he felt Doflamingo go tense next to him. The tug in Law’s chest nearly brought him to his knees as Luffy’s gaze met his.

“Torao!” he called. “We’re here to get you back.”

#This story lives #I sat down to write this one and it just flowed #Trafalgar Law #Monkey D. Luffy #Donquixote Doflamingo #Heart Pirates #One Piece fic #One Piece fanfiction #Caitlin's fic

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thetomorrowshow · 2 years

Text

defend

empires superpowers au masterlist (now fully updated!)

this is a heavy fic, folks. proceed with caution (then join me in ranting about scar's insurance /j). this is also pretty long whoops.

this story takes place about 5ish months after the end of 'poisoned rats'.

cw: self-harm (under duress), blood, flashbacks, referenced past torture, altered mental state (of sorts), emotional distress

“You’re safe.”

“No,” Jimmy whimpers. He doesn’t know where he is, so he can’t be safe. His master isn’t here. His master isn’t here and he doesn’t know where he is.

“Jimmy, please look at me.”

Jimmy ducks his head away, but after a moment drags his eyes up to meet whoever is speaking. Not his master. Someone with blue eyes and a grey beanie, and they’re holding Jimmy’s hands. He doesn’t know why—his leash is open for the taking.

“We’re in the grocery store,” the person says, holding his gaze. “Do you know that?”

He doesn’t know anything, but he nods anyway. He’s so very confused, glances around for Xornoth, doesn’t find them anywhere. Is this a guard? Why is he here without his master?

The person lets out a sigh of relief, squeezes his hands. “That’s good. It’s a little loud in here, would you rather go out to the car?”

Go out? Outside?

Now that the man mentions it, it is loud in here. Louder than most places Jimmy spends time in, louder than his cell and the lab and the meeting room. Jimmy nods, unsure if he’s allowed to say yes.

The man’s brows furrow and for a moment Jimmy’s certain he’s disobeyed, certain that he isn’t allowed to have an opinion. But then the man helps him to his feet—he’s still not pulling him by his leash, and Jimmy looks down at it, the way it drags behind him, pulling on his collar—but decides that if the man isn’t going to use it like he’s supposed to, he’s certainly not going to argue.

Outside is bright, far too bright, and Jimmy shields his eyes with his cuffed hands, pulling them from the grip of the man leading him. He cringes as soon as he realizes—now he’s going to be beaten for sure—but the man just hisses lightly.

“Right, I didn’t even think about how bright it is—how about I throw my jacket over you, yeah? It’s too warm for me to wear right now, anyway.”

Jimmy doesn’t respond in any way but pressing his hands further into his eyes, trying to block out any ray of sunlight.

Sunlight. He’s outside. It’s hot out, it’s so hot, there’s no breeze at all but it’s natural warmth and it’s so much better than the permanent chilliness of his cell. He’s not sure what he did right to earn this treat, but he’s going to bask in it.

Then there’s something dark over his head and Jimmy can lower his hands. He lets the man guide him, until there’s the sound of a car unlocking and a door opening, and he’s guided to sit in a car.

It’s not familiar at all. He gets in vans sometimes, he thinks, but he doesn’t know this car. He’s never allowed to sit in a seat. Something’s off about all of this.

“Jimmy? You all right?”

Jimmy’s not sure how this man knows his name because nobody knows his name, they can’t know his name, his name is the only part of him that belongs to him and no one else, the one thing Xornoth hasn’t taken from him—

“You can take the jacket off, y’know. You don’t have to if it’s still too bright, but if you want to you can.”

Jimmy doesn’t move. He’s supposed to have his head covered when he’s in the van. It’s the rule.

“Buckle up,” the man says, and Jimmy mechanically reaches for the seatbelt and pulls it over himself, fumbling for a moment before he finds the receptacle. Then the car is moving and Jimmy grabs the armrests, forcing himself stockstill.

“Um, babe? Are you up to talking about what happened?” It’s several long minutes of silence before the man says that, but Jimmy isn’t babe, he’s pet, or little bird, or darling, or bi—

“It’s okay if not. I already called your therapist to see if she’s available for an emergency session if you think you’re going to need one. No pressure, but just in case.”

Jimmy tugs a little at his cuffs, swallows. He’s fine. He’s going home, and he’s going to lay on Xornoth’s knee and let his master touch his hair, just like a good pet. Or if Xornoth’s in a bad mood, he’ll submit to his punishment. He’s a good pet.

Did he ruin whatever this mission was? Maybe he’s not a good pet.

He can’t be a good pet. There’s no way. He’d somehow ended up on the ground alone with a strange man—a guard—having to help him up. This isn’t good. He’s ruined everything. He’s ruined everything and Xornoth is going to get out the whip or the spiked boots or the cage, please not the cage, he’ll do anything—

The car slows and turns, bumping over a curb, before coming to a complete halt. There’s the sound of keys turning, then the driver’s door opening and shutting.

Jimmy unbuckles his seatbelt, trying to quell the shaking in his limbs. He doesn’t want this. He’s been bad. He deserves it.

The door opens and he clambers out, a little unbalanced from his bound hands. The man closes it behind him, takes Jimmy by the shoulder and guides him until the air changes and Jimmy knows they’re inside.

The guard leaves him standing by himself, but he doesn’t go far, calling out after a moment, “I turned off the lights, so you can take the jacket off your head.”

Jimmy obeys, winces when it’s still a bit brighter than before. The man is in front of him, smiling. He’s smiling.

Jimmy’s been very bad, then.

He lets his eyes fall to the floor. He doesn’t know what’s about to happen, but he knows it’s not going to be good. Often, Xornoth is too busy to deal with him right now, will throw him to the thugs before punishing him themself.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, I promise,” the man says, and Jimmy bites his lip to keep from vomiting. He doesn’t usually have enough food in his stomach for it to be a huge issue, but his stomach is rolling and he’d rather not take chances. “It happens. Are you feeling well enough to help me make dinner?”

Jimmy’s not sure what that’s code for, but he nods demurely, follows the man to what seems to be a normal kitchen. Where’s the catch?

Then he’s seated at a kitchen table and set in front of him is a cutting board with a couple of carrots on it, but more importantly—a large knife.

Oh no.

They make him participate, sometimes. They give him knives and jeer at him until he cuts himself, or a noose to choke himself on, or one of those batons to electrocute himself with. He hates it, hates that he has to harm himself, hates that he’s in control of what’s happening and that he can stop it at any time but chooses not to—but the quicker he does what they want, the quicker they toss it aside and hurt him themselves. He prefers that, prefers to not be in charge of his own torture.

But the knife gleams in front of him, unmoving and waiting. A glance up shows him that the man isn’t even watching, is just waiting for him to do it so they can get on with it.

Jimmy forces himself to pick up the knife, scrunches his eyes shut, and goes against every screaming instinct in his body. He brings it down in a slash on his upper arm.

His eyes shoot open as a whimper escapes him, and he sees blood quickly soaking his shirt and running down his arm—it hurts, it hurts and makes his head a little bit woozy but he has to continue, has to keep going. He draws in a breath that’s more like a sob, raises the knife—

“Jimmy!”

The knife is wrested from his hand and Jimmy lets out the breath, ready for them to hurt him, to hit him with the stun baton, to kick him and beat him until he can barely move so it can just be over with—

But the man is just standing there, holding the bloody knife, his face white. “I—what are you doing?!” he yells, and Jimmy can’t help but duck his head. He’s messed up, he wasn’t supposed to do that with the knife, he doesn’t know what he was supposed to do but it wasn’t that—

“Okay, okay, everything’s fine!” the man says, sounding panicked. “Right. I should—I should call for an ambulance, right? Wait—let me see it—”

The man pulls his arm forward and Jimmy can’t help but keen at the pain, but he allows it to happen, lets the man look at it.

“It doesn’t look too deep—but there’s so much blood—no, it’s okay, I’ve got first aid supplies in the closet, hold on—”

Then he’s gone, and Jimmy’s shaking.

This is too confusing. Usually they tell him what to do, or they do it to him, or they drag him straight to Xornoth. This isn’t normal. This isn’t any of the places they usually torture him. He’s never been in a kitchen in Xornoth’s manor, he doesn’t know what’s happening. . . .

The man is back, and he’s got a bundle of bandages and a first aid kit, and Jimmy’s still so confused. It’s just a cut. Usually they don’t bandage him up after each cut, they just wait until the end, until he’s limp on the floor and they need to drag him to his cell or to Xornoth. But this guard is pulling out cotton pads and a brown bottle and he’s pressing stuff to the cut and Jimmy can’t help but whine and pull away. He isn’t supposed to have help yet, he’s been bad, this is supposed to be a punishment.

The man freezes. “I know it stings,” he says slowly, carefully, “but you need this to be safe. I know you don’t like hospitals, so we’re going to try to deal with it here.”

The knife is on the table, the one he’d made Jimmy cut himself with, and Jimmy shudders and tears his eyes from it. The man presses the pad to Jimmy’s arm again and he jolts away, briefly meeting his eyes before looking down submissively.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I have to do this,” the man says, voice shaky, and before Jimmy can react his arm is being rubbed with the pad, quick and efficient and painful. Jimmy bites his tongue, does his best to stay still.

“Okay, it’s not deep. It shouldn’t scar, but Blossom knows more about that sort of thing, so I might call her and ask her to take a look, if that’s okay. I’m going to wrap it now, all right?”

Jimmy doesn’t respond. He doesn’t have to talk to the thugs. He only has to talk to Xornoth. He knows they’ll just make it worse for him if he doesn’t speak, but it’s so hard to make his mouth move.

The man wraps a bandage around Jimmy’s bicep, blood welling again in the cut that the man had just cleaned. Once he’s taped it off, he looks up at Jimmy, catching his eyes.

“Talk to me, please. What’s wrong?”

Jimmy can’t disobey a direct order like that. He doesn’t want to be hurt even worse. He whines a little, clears his throat. Barely audible, he breathes, “I’m sorry.”

The man sighs, rubs his forehead. “It’s okay. We’ll fix this together, yeah? Can you tell me . . . why you did this?”

Jimmy whines again. This is a lot of talking, especially for someone who isn’t Xornoth. Especially for an answer that the guard already knows.

He cut himself because he was just following orders.

“I’m a good pet,” he whimpers, and what little color the man’s face had regained vanishes.

“No—No, Jimmy, you’re not—”

He can’t help the tear that escapes. “I-I know, I know I was bad, I’m sorry, please don’t make me go in the cage, I’m a bad pet but please, anything. . . .”

There’s a crash and Jimmy jumps; the man has dropped the first aid kit. He pulls out another kitchen chair and collapses into it. “I—I don’t know what to do—what if—” he takes a deep breath, and when he looks up Jimmy sees that he’s crying.

“Jimmy,” he says, and Jimmy flinches at the deliberate use of his name. “You’re not there anymore. Do you know who I am?”

Jimmy shakes his head, not sure what’s happening here. Is this a trap? The man’s face falls further and Jimmy whimpers. He doesn’t want him to be angry when he hurts him, it’s always so much worse.

“My name is Scott. I’m your boyfriend.”

His—what? But—

“We’re in our home that we bought together,” the man—Scott?—continues. “We live together here. Do you know that?”

Again, Jimmy shakes his head. This is—he’s in Xornoth’s manor, he has to be. There’s no way to escape. He can’t get out. He’ll never get out.

The man—Scott pulls at his hair. “I don’t know—maybe I can call Nora again, she said she’d have time for an appointment in like—fifteen minutes, okay, I can call her then. . . .”

Jimmy looks down at his arm, where blood is beginning to seep through the bandage. He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t care that Xornoth is so much worse, he just wants everything to make sense again. “Master. . . .” he whispers, and Scott’s head shoots up so suddenly Jimmy thinks for a wild moment that the man’s been slapped.

“No, I—I can’t let—Jimmy, Xornoth—Xornoth’s dead,” he says frantically, moving to reach out but aborting the movement. “They died, and you got out of there. We saved you.”

He’d had his suspicions, but now Jimmy is certain this is a lie. He’s trying to make him betray his master, trying to make him believe that this is all real so that they catch him saying something he shouldn’t and then he’ll be punished so much worse.

He ducks his head, grips his hair in his hands. He just wants to go back to his cell. It’s quiet there, he can sleep there.

“Can we move to the couch?” the man says, and Jimmy’s not sure what he’s looking for with that question but he doesn’t respond.

“I’m going to touch you, okay?” Again, Jimmy doesn’t respond, but he lets the man take him by his forearms and stand him up, then lead him to a different room, one with a fluffy rug and a couch that he can’t sit on. The rug luckily only takes up a portion of the room, flat carpet beyond it. The guard sits on the couch, releasing Jimmy, looking up at him expectantly, and Jimmy flounders for a moment before kneeling on the flat carpet. He bows his head, his hands at his side. He knows what’s expected.

There’s a choked-off cry from the couch, but Jimmy doesn’t dare look up. He twists his fingers into his shirt—why does he have a shirt on?—and breathes out slowly.

“Jimmy? Would you be okay . . . sitting on the couch?”

The couch isn’t for him. He can’t be on the couch. He takes in a slow, measured breath. The only furniture he has permission to be on are his bed and the exam table. It’s a trick, a nasty trick to get him to disobey so that there’s more of an excuse for punishment.

He stays where he is, silent and still. Maybe if he’s quiet enough, the man will forget he’s here.

“Right, I’ll take that as a no. Okay. Ten more minutes until I can call Nora. I—it’s never been this bad, I don’t—I don’t know what to do. . . .”

If Jimmy looks up, he can see the man sitting on the couch, head in his hands. He lowers his eyes again. He doesn’t want to aggravate him.

He’s so tired. The emotional upheaval of misbehaving and being brought to an unfamiliar place for his punishment, then having to instigate his own punishment and somehow messing that up bad enough that he’s just sitting here, not being hurt, waiting.

Waiting for Xornoth.

He’s messed up so badly that they’re skipping the middleman. He’s going to the cage, there’s no doubt about it.

Adrenaline shoots through his veins, but he tamps it down. He can’t cause an accident right now. He can’t be in even worse trouble. He’s already going to the cage.

A whimper escapes him and he clamps his mouth shut, eyes darting up—the guard heard, Scott’s shifting from the couch to the floor and Jimmy flinches back—

Scott pulls away, hands up. “Jimmy, you’re hurting. Is it your arm?”

His arm? Nothing’s wrong with his arm. Either of his arms. Nothing out of the usual. He’s still functional. Pain doesn’t make him dysfunctional.

“Are you—are you hurting in other places? Can you point to where it hurts?”

What, so he can kick those places? Jimmy doesn’t move. His hands aren’t cuffed—weren’t they just cuffed? Are they still? They aren’t—so he holds them out in front of him, wrists close together.

The guard doesn’t move to bind them, or move at all. “What are you doing?” he asks after several moments. “I—do you want me to hold your hands?”

He wants to go to his cell and hope that Xornoth forgets his disobedience. He wants less confusion. He wants his head to stop pounding, he realizes, as a headache bursts into the forefront of his mind.

“I don’t know what you want.”

Jimmy bites his lip to keep from making a noise. He’s going to make him ask to be cuffed. He’s going to make him act like he wants it.

He clears his throat, swallows. “Pl-please,” he croaks, “please handcuff me, sir.”

Silence. Jimmy chances a glance up, sees utter disgust painting the man’s face. He’s trying, he’s trying to be good, what is he doing wrong?

“I’m not going to handcuff you,” Scott says, and Jimmy’s breath seizes. Does he—is he expected to do it himself? He doesn’t know—

“Do you know why I’m not going to handcuff you?”

Jimmy bows his head again, waits. They always answer themselves.

“I’m not going to handcuff you because you don’t want it,” the guard says, and now Jimmy’s really confused. What kind of mind game is this? “I am your boyfriend, Scott, and I love you very much, and I will never handcuff you.”

This is too confusing. This is too much for his unrelenting headache. Jimmy lowers his hands, slow, unsure, but doesn’t move other than that. He swallows, feels his throat bob against his collar. At least that’s normal.

“Do you know where you are?”

Jimmy doesn’t, so he doesn’t answer. The man sighs. Jimmy bites back a noise of fear.

“Maybe she got out of an appointment early. Jimmy, look at me?”

Jimmy drags his eyes up to land on Scott—not quite his eyes, but he’s looking at him and listening, which is enough.

“I’m going to call your therapist, Nora,” he says slowly, carefully. “You’re having a bad flashback, and I don’t know how to help you. Is there anything you need right now to feel safe?”

He doesn’t need anything. He wants a lot of things, sure, but asking for them will only make things worse. He shakes his head in quick, jerking movements. He wants to throw up.

A long pause, then Scott says, almost doubtfully, “Okay. I’m going to call her now. I want you to know that I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise.” Another, pause, then: “Can you tell me what you’re thinking?”

Jimmy scrunches his eyes shut, forces himself to speak. The man is asking him a question, and not answering is just likely to make him more angry. “I-is my—is Master going to—to put me in the—cage?”

Scott sucks in a sharp breath, reaches out again but again pulls back. “Okay. Okay. You’re not here at all. Okay. I’m calling Nora. Just—don’t hurt yourself, okay?”

Of course he’s not going to hurt himself, he doesn’t want to. He’ll only do it under orders, if he knows everything will be so much worse if he doesn’t obey.

“Hello? Nora?”

Jimmy blinks at his knees, rubs his fingers together. He’s used to waiting. He does hours of it on the regular.

“I don’t know what to do. He’s—he’s never been this bad.”

He’s bad, he’s a bad pet, he’s been bad. He’s never been this bad. He’s going in the cage, and now he’s just waiting for Xornoth to come and get him.

“No, he—I don’t think he knows where he is. I don’t think he knows who I am. I—what? Oh, well I think he’s—like, I think what he sees is what’s real, because . . . well, he’s interacted with objects—and that’s another thing . . . okay, yeah—”

He’s not sure if he’s chained to this spot or not. He doesn’t feel anything on his ankle, and he doesn’t remember that happening. But it’s possible that the man had hooked his leash onto something.

“Jimmy? Can you tell me what you see?”

He’s not Jimmy. He’s not supposed to respond to that. They aren’t supposed to know his name. He’s just a bird to the guards, just a pet.

“Yeah, he’s not answering. . . . Um, definitely earlier. He had a panic attack in the grocery store, but I thought he was okay—like, he wasn’t talking, but I thought he was just worn out. But we got home, and we started on dinner, and he—”

There’s a noise that sounds something like a sob, but Jimmy doesn’t look up.

“Sorry. He, um . . . he cu-cut himself—sorry—just out of nowhere, it was—it was so—”

Scott takes a couple of deep breaths, measured and long. “Yeah, I do. I’m okay, I think, just really worried about him. . . . Um . . . maybe sleep? He’s never been this bad before—”

Jimmy whimpers, quiet, at the word again, but Scott notices and comes closer.

“Hey, ba—Jimmy, are you—um—did something I say scare you?”

He’s a bad pet, he screwed up in some way and he doesn’t even know what it was but the punishment is going to be severe. . . .

“No, he’s—right. Okay. No, he’s on the floor, like kneeling there—and he won’t move—yeah, like that. And I know—I know how to deal with that and how to help him, but he called himself a–a pet, he asked for them. He’s—he hasn’t been this far gone ever, not since the beginning, and even then I don’t think I ever saw him like this.”

His powers are still trying to cause an accident, he can feel it. He can feel the scar burn, but he swallows it back before it can send sparks down his arms. He’ll be in even worse trouble if he does that, and he’s already in trouble because he’s never been this bad, Scott said it himself—

“Okay. No, you’re right. Um . . . I think . . . oh, maybe I can just put some of my body wash on one of my jackets? So it’s a familiar object and a familiar smell? Okay, uh—Jimmy, I’ll be right back—”

Then he’s alone in the room, and it’s a moment to relax. He lets his shoulders fall, his jaw ease. There’s cameras, but they won’t pick up the minute slip of his stance. He hates it here. He can’t think it, he can’t let himself think that. He’s a good pet. No, he’s a bad pet. His head hurts.

There’s hurried footsteps and he snaps back to attention, only for something to be draped over him—a jacket? A jacket that smells strongly. Smells nice. Like home.

“Jimmy? Can you tell me where you are?”

Jimmy breathes in the scent of the jacket, tears brimming in his eyes. Home. It smells so much like home.

“Jimmy, look up at me.”

Jimmy jolts, looks up. The man is there, sitting on the floor across from him, one hand holding a phone to his ear, the other outstretched. “Tell me where you are,” he says firmly, and Jimmy looks around, clears his throat.

“I—I don’t know, I’m sorry,” he rasps. Just another thing to fail at. He bites the inside of his cheek. He’s fine. He’ll survive this. They’ll make sure he does.

“That’s okay. I—one second, Jimmy. . . . Yeah, maybe . . . usually he’s pretty tired after a flashback, d’you think sleep would help? Okay. Yeah, I’ll do that first.”

The guard looks back at Jimmy and Jimmy curls a little in on himself, grounding himself with the jacket.

“Jimmy, you’re not going to be punished,” he says, voice choked with tears. “Nobody is going to hurt you today. You—you’ve been good.”

Jimmy can’t help himself; he glances at the cut on his arm. If he’s been good, then why did Scott make him cut himself? Why is he waiting for Xornoth? Scott is lying, that’s all there is to it.

“I—I made a mistake, earlier. You’re not in trouble, that was my mistake. Your—” he cuts himself off, breathes. Jimmy looks down uncomfortably. He hates watching people cry. “You can rest, okay? I swear that no one will hurt you.”

It’s a lie, but his eyelids are so heavy. If what the man is saying is true, then he can go back to his cell. He’s going to go back to rest. That sounds incredible right now.

Scott’s waiting for him to respond, so he reaches up to grab his leash, hand it to Scott—it’s not there.

He can feel its weight, he can see—he can’t see it. He can feel it, though. He stares down at his hands, aching head trying to piece this together. Why can’t he see his leash? Why can’t he hold it? Is his collar—?

He bends his neck slightly, feels it press into the thick leather of his collar. That’s still there, then. His hands are hanging in the air, still feeling for something that by all rights should be there. He can’t help but whine, it’s all so overwhelming. . . .

“Oh, honey. . . .” the guard trails off, fiddling with his shirt. Jimmy swallows, bows his head again. He’s lost his leash. He doesn’t know how. It’s here but it isn’t. “Would you like to go to your room, lie in the bed instead of on this hard floor?”

That’s all he’s wanted this whole time. Jimmy nods quickly, keens in the back of his throat. The man’s face collapses, tears leaking from his eyes, but he takes Jimmy by the hands (Jimmy jerks at the touch, but allows it to happen) and lifts him to his feet. He must not feel like dragging Jimmy while his legs are working, even with the leash gone. Then they’re walking, down an unfamiliar hall and into a homey room with a large bed and the confusion just worsens. This isn’t his cell. He shakes his head rapidly, trying to shove away the ever-encroaching headache. He doesn’t recognize this at all.

Scott leads him to the bed even as his legs feel wooden and he stumbles over nothing. What—does Scott expect something from him? What’s going on?

The man presses him gently onto the bed, and Jimmy sits on the edge of it, every part of him screaming to get off, he’s not supposed to be on furniture, he’s supposed to be on the floor at Xornoth’s knee—

But Scott presses a little firmer on his chest until Jimmy lies down, heart pounding in his throat. He wraps the jacket around himself, suddenly concerned that it might be taken from him—it smells so safe, he needs it—

“Covers?”

Jimmy blinks blankly at Scott. What?

Scott’s face contorts in a weird way, and he pats Jimmy’s hand before drawing away. “I’m—I’m going out to the living room, okay? I’ll leave the door open, just shout if you need anything.”

Jimmy doesn’t respond, just stares at him. This isn’t right. This is so strange. The bed he’s in is well-cushioned, soft, and he can already feel himself sinking deeper into sleep. Maybe this is a new observation room. That place had a bed that he was allowed to lie in.

“Go to sleep, okay? You’ll feel better in the morning.”

And Jimmy is nothing if not obedient, so he closes his eyes and quickly slips away.

It’s dark when Jimmy wakes, and he inhales the scent of home and sighs contentedly. Then he closes his eyes again and lets sleep drag him back down.

When Jimmy wakes a second time, light is filtering in through the bedroom window. He yawns, looks over for—Scott’s not in bed. He must’ve been called out early.

Jimmy reaches out to his other side, gropes around for his phone on the bedside table. When he can’t find it, he turns, checks. Not there.

That’s . . . that’s strange, to say the least. Scott being gone happens on occasion, but Jimmy almost always plugs his phone in beside him before going to sleep. This is weird.

He stretches, gasps when his arm burns. What? Did he sleep weird on it? Actually—he slept weird on everything, it seems, because he looks down to see that he’s wearing jeans. In bed.

What?

This is concerning, at this point. He looks at his upper arm, right where it burns—there’s a bandage wrapped around it, dried blood staining it.

Was he in a fight?

Jimmy groans, sits up. One of Scott’s jackets slips off his shoulders, and he blinks at it in confusion before rolling out of bed. He’s a little dizzy, and—his stomach growls. That would explain it, then. He’s absolutely starving—and he’s putting some pieces together, sleeping in day clothes means he maybe fell asleep before eating dinner. . . .

He hisses on the first step, his bad leg throbbing dully. He really must’ve slept in a weird position. Maybe just sleeping in his jeans had done it, to be fair. He yawns again, runs his hand through his hair—he grimaces at how oily it feels, but he doesn’t have time for a shower yet. It’ll have to wait until he eats something.

He limps out of the room, scratching his face. Something about the house feels . . . off. The energy isn’t quite what he’d expected. He pauses by the hall closet, considers getting out his hip brace and cane. He ultimately decides not to—he’s about to shower, after all. He can just put it on when he gets out.

He continues down the hall, makes to turn right into the kitchen, but in the living room—

Scott’s lying on the couch, arm hanging off the edge, a blanket bunched around his feet. He’s asleep. Why on the couch? Is he sick? Did something happen the night before that Jimmy just can’t remember?

He creeps closer, sees that Scott’s face is drawn, eyelids heavy. He makes to kneel beside him but flinches as an unpleasant ache in his knees warns him of the potential emotional and physical consequences. Instead, he leans down, gently rests his hand on Scott’s forehead.

He’s not warm, actually cooler than he should be in the summer weather (he’s always been that way, though), but now that he’s this close, Jimmy can see dried teartracks on his cheeks.

Oh no.

Something bad must’ve happened, if Scott had cried himself to sleep on the couch. Cautiously, carefully, Jimmy reaches out, shakes Scott’s shoulder.

“Scott?” he says quietly, preparing himself to leap back if he wakes up swinging. “Petal? Can you wake up for me?”

Scott sighs, face scrunching up. “Jimmy?” he croaks, one hand coming up to drag across his face. Jimmy can’t help but smile.

“Yes, love. Are you sleepy?”

Scott fully sits up, reaches out to grip Jimmy’s hands. “Jimmy,” he gasps, and Jimmy can’t help but flinch back. Scott releases him instantly, eyes going shiny.

“Jimmy,” Scott repeats, and Jimmy glances around. Did he do something? “Can—can you tell me where you are?”

“Um, our house? In the living room?”

Scott doesn’t move, face solemn as ever. “Do you know who I am?”

This is weird. Jimmy doesn’t like this at all. “You’re Scott, my boyfriend,” he says, as upbeat as possible, despite the frown fighting to be on his face. “I don’t understand. Scott, did—did something happen? Was there a fight?”

Scott leans back, relief flooding his features. “Jimmy, what—” he cuts himself off, rubs his eyes— “what do you remember about yesterday?”

About. . . ?

Oh.

Oh no.

He remembers, now that Scott’s brought it up. He remembers the fear, the confusion, the unfamiliar face of his lover as he shook with fright. He remembers kneeling and cowering and waiting for punishment.

And Scott saw him like that.

Jimmy groans, flops down on the couch beside Scott. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, covering his face.

“No—Jimmy, what on earth are you apologizing for?”

He groans again. “That you had to see me like that.”

“I—Jimmy, look at me.”

Jimmy waits a few seconds, just to prove to himself that he can. He doesn’t have to follow orders. He doesn’t have to. Then he lowers his hands, meets Scott’s eyes.

Scott’s voice is serious when he speaks. “I love you, Jimmy. I love all of you. I’m not gonna lie, yesterday was . . . emotionally distressing.” He laughs a little. Jimmy doesn’t. “But I’m so very proud of you, and I will never be upset with you or your brain for reverting to a past way of survival when triggered.”

It sounds rehearsed, and Jimmy can’t help but snort. “You called Nora yesterday, right? She tell you to say that?”

Scott's huff and eyeroll says all. Jimmy giggles, leans into Scott. Scott wraps him in a hug, pauses before squeezing him tight.

Tears are building in Jimmy’s eyes, and he blinks them back. “I’m still sorry,” he mutters into Scott’s shoulder. “I—geez, Scott, you had to watch me try to punish myself! I thought—”

He ducks his head, too ashamed to continue. Scott nudges him a little.

“Will it help to tell me?”

He sighs. “I thought,” he says, voice shaking, “that—or, my messed-up brain convinced me that you were a guard, that you were going to hurt me while waiting for X—for Xornoth to come get me and put me in—in the cage.”

“Oh, honey. . . .”

“And I hate him,” Jimmy continues, undeterred by Scott trying to hug him closer. “That—the me who thinks he’s a pet. He’s so pitiful—just—just whining and so scared all the time, and I hate feeling like that!”

The tears finally spill and he cuts himself off, sobs into Scott’s sleeve. “I-I-I thought, I thought that you were—were making me p-punish myself! I was so—so scared, Scott, scared of you, scared of Xornoth, when that bastard’s been dead for longer than they had me! I hate—I-I didn’t want it!” he pauses for a breath, a sob, an animalistic noise of pain. “I didn’t want to—to have a fla-ashback, I didn’t—I didn’t want to sca-are you, I didn’t want to be a pet!”

“I know, I know,” Scot murmurs, rubbing his arm. “It’s not fair. None of that should’ve ever happened to you.” His hand shifts, rubbing up and down Jimmy’s back, and it’s too much—too much like them—

Jimmy shoves himself off Scott, pushing his arm away. “Re-red,” he chokes out, phantom touches running through his hair. Scott moves away instantly, his hands up.

“Thank you for telling me,” Scott says. “Is there anything you need right now?”

Jimmy takes stock of himself; runs through a breathing exercise. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Again. Again. He runs through it about ten times before he feels fully present again, no foreign touches making him shudder. Then he slumps back onto the couch, utterly exhausted.

“I just woke up, like, twenty minutes ago,” he rasps, running his sleeve under his nose. “I wanna cancel today. Can we cancel today?”

Scott chuckles lightly, stretches. “Yeah, I get what you mean,” he says, and Jimmy realizes that he’s crying too. “Good job thinking of the breathing exercises, I’m such an idiot—I didn’t even think to do anything for grounding yesterday. . . .”

“‘S all right, you were panicking,” Jimmy waves him off. “And you got me your jacket, right? Or did I imagine that?”

“I did, yeah, but only after Nora suggested it.”

“It still helped,” says Jimmy. He can remember smelling it, how safe the scent of Scott’s body wash had seemed, even in his amnesiac state. “It was probably the only thing keeping me from having a full-on freakout right then and there, to be honest.”

“That’s good,” Scott sighs, also falling back. After a moment, he speaks. “So don’t think we’re skipping over all those things you just said about hating yourself for your defense mechanisms, because I really didn’t like the sound of that. But I think we need a day off today, yeah?”

Jimmy nods furiously. He needs nothing more.

“Great. I’m going to go throw something together for breakfast, then we can just watch TV all day or sleep or whatever. Do you wanna stay here or go shower or what?”

Jimmy grimaces; his hair still feels oily against his forehead. “Shower. Then cuddles on the couch?”

They both stay there for a few moments longer, then Scott gets up and stretches and heads to the kitchen, inspiring Jimmy to get up and go into the bathroom.

When he gets out, skin red and hair wet, Scott’s set out english muffins with various sandwich toppings. Jimmy gives him a long kiss, puts together a sandwich of fried egg with jam, pointedly ignoring Scott’s barf noises.

And when they hold each other close on the couch, Scott wrapped up in Jimmy’s arms, the TV playing some trashy romance film, Jimmy thinks that maybe they’ll be okay.

#empires smp #esmp #empires smp fanfic #flower husbands #jimmy solidarity #scott smajor #empires superpowers au #esh au #mas writes #this was one of those where i sat down and wrote feverishly for like two hours straight #and when i came to i had an angsty mess before me #by which i mean: i wish i could say this was hard to write #the angst is what flows the best my dude #i put most of the fic under the cut just bc it's kinda distressing from the get-go #i dont have much to say tbh #im still thinking about scar's insurance tweets of today #im so indescribably angry about it #but anyways lmk what you think #love you guys

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uzurakis · 28 days

Text

THEIR ACT OF INTIMACY!

featuring: geto suguru. megumi fushiguro. itadori yuuji. nanami kento.

n. a sign of them being very comfortable with you. slighty suggestive in itadori’s part. PART 2 HERE :0

GETO SUGURU. suguru finds it aggravating when the others try to mess up his hair, with the exception of you. after the relationship evolved, you'd sit on the bed with him after he showered and brush the large tangles out of his hair. other times, you might put it up in a bun or another style when he isn't looking. you spend that quiet time talking and enjoying one other's company.

in the quiet of your shared space, suguru sat on the edge of the bed, fresh from the shower, his damp hair a tangle of knots. you approached him with a gentle smile, brush in hand. “you know the rule," suguru said with a hint of playfulness, though his eyes softened at the sight of you. “i know, i know," you replied, taking a seat beside him. "this is a condition comes with me being your girlfriend. i got to brush your hair and you get to play mine.”

as you carefully detangled his hair, the room filled with the sound of your voices, sharing stories and laughter. with each stroke of the brush, suguru felt a sense of calm wash over him, grateful for this quiet moment with you.

once his hair was finally smooth and manageable, you surprised him by styling it into a loose bun, eliciting a surprised gasp from suguru as he caught sight of his reflection. “you did it again, didn't you?" he said, pretending to scold you, though his eyes twinkled with affection. you simply smiled and leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "i can't help it. i love making you look even more handsome."

ITADORI YUUJI. itadori enjoys lying and lounging about naked together. it feels like complete vulnerability, with no walls between you, resyncing your relationship as you melt into each other's body. he has a habit of writing something on your skin as a game in which you have to guess what he wrote down. other times, he simply likes to nap in the afternoon while you tell him a story in bed.

lounging comfortably in your bed, naked and unguarded, itadori traced lazy patterns on your skin with his touch sending shivers down your spine. "guess what i wrote this time," he whispered, his finger leaving a trail of invisible words on your back. you chuckled softly, leaning into his touch. "hmm, let me think..."

as you concentrated, trying to decipher his secret message, itadori pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his warmth enveloping you entirely. then finally, you ventured a guess, feeling his smile against your skin as you spoke the words aloud.

"wrong," he teased, his laughter mingling with yours. “you gotta get it right next time, babe. or else i’ll bite your thighs again.”

with each lighthearted round of the game, the barriers between you appeared to dissolve, leaving only the raw, unfiltered connection to be felt.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. megumi has a difficult time opening up to others, and you were the one who showed him that it is acceptable to talk about what he feels together. you understood that him speaking meaningful words in a serious manner to you puts a toll on his ego; not that he doesn’t care, he just wasn't used to it. what surprises you is how effortlessly he drops those words only in the spur of the moment, as if he hasn't been fighting to say them all along. he also brings up topics you've already discussed and gives every single penny of thought to conversations that deepen feelings between the both of you.

in the quiet of the evening, megumi sat beside you, his expression guarded as always. you both were doing your homework together and then, in a moment that took you by surprise, he spoke, his words flowing effortlessly.

"i care about you," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "more than i can put into words."

"why so suddenly?" you asked, surprised by the unexpected confession. the man paused, his expression earnest as he searched for the right words. "i.. just feel you need to hear them from me." he replied, his voice gentle yet resolute. “sorry..”

you could feel your heart swelling with emotion, touched by the sincerity in his words. "thank you, i care about you too, ‘gumi” you whispered, feeling the weight of his feelings enveloping you like a warm embrace. "i like it when you talk about what you're feeling, you know.” you said gently, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from his face.

you knew that megumi's words had transcended the barriers he had once struggled to break through. and as you leaned in to press a tender kiss to his lips, you realized that sometimes, the most meaningful words are the ones spoken from the heart, even if they come unexpectedly.

NANAMI KENTO. nanami believes there is nothing better than a massage after a long and tiring day. he believes that the best massages are those that he earns without having to ask for them; you just knew he needed one and vice versa.

nanami trudged through the door, weary from the demands of the day. you greeted him with a warm smile, sensing the weight on his shoulders without a word spoken. "rough day?" you asked, already moving towards him with a knowing look. nanami nodded, sinking into their embrace. "you have no idea."

without hesitation, you guided him to the couch and began to knead away the tension that had settled in his muscles. "this is exactly what i needed," the man sighed, feeling the knots slowly unraveling beneath your touch.

you smiled softly, your fingers working with practiced ease. "i could tell. you always carry so much on your shoulders."

as the stress of the day melted away, he found himself falling even more deeply in love with the one who cared for him so effortlessly.

@uzurakis

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seonghwaddict · 2 months

Text

the lamb and the wolf — park seonghwa

in which all he wanted was someone to love in his dark, lonely world… and then you came along.

hades!park seonghwa x fem!reader. genre. strangers to lovers. fluff. smut. warnings. he’s literally obsessed with mc, ankle injury, alcohol consumption, mention of cannibalism as a metaphor for love but it’s not really explicit, mc is described as innocent, explicit sexual content mdni, oral (f. receiving), unprotected, soft dom!hwa, big dick!hwa, praise, creampie. wc. 7.2k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. i’ve been working on this for two-ish months and i’m so happy to finally share it. writing this was fun, i love writing men infatuated with their lovers <33 the letter he reads does not belong to me and comes from “Albert Camus, María Casares. Correspondence (1944-1959)” which is a collection of love letters sent between camus and casares. this particular one is letter #95.

listening to. from persephone, kiki rockwell // sunlight, hozier // liquid smooth, mitski // cinnamon girl, lana del rey // nothing’s gonna hurt you baby, cigarettes after sex

masterlist.

the realm of the dead was terribly dark and cold and, as the name would suggest, barren of life. for seonghwa, the ruler of the underworld who had spent thousands of years in the realm, this hadn’t been a problem before. yet, he couldn’t deny the temptation of the distant sounds of chirping birds and gentle breezes humming through the air above.

he was, of course, free to leave whenever he wished to but more often than not he was busy—ruling over the souls that had passed or meetings with nymphs and the other deities. there had never been an inclination to explore, but somehow he found himself taking curious steps out of the cave entrance to his world.

and that’s where he saw you.

you weren’t a long way away from the entrance to the underworld, idling in a meadow and picking flowers and berries in a woven basket. the sunlight glinted off your rich skin, glistening on you manicured nails as your hands tended to the plants. the slow wind wafted through your soft-looking hair, making it dance in the air. he was entranced by the way the skirt of your dainty silk dress flowed as you moved around, hypnotised by the ivory fabric folding and brushing against your ankle with every step. you were beautiful in every sense of the word—but not the soft and comforting kind. no, not at all. in fact, he was quite alarmed by the notion of being so infatuated with a mortal at first glance.

seonghwa knew he was doomed from the moment he laid eyes on you. he wanted nothing more than for you to glance his way, willing to split himself in half or carve his heart right out of his chest to get a second of your attention. you spoke to yourself softly, muttering about how pretty you thought the little branch of lilac you plucked out of a bush was.

oh, how lovely your voice sounded; even the sun would not compare to it’s dulcet warmth.

a brilliant idea crossed his mind, one that he knew would get you to fall right in his grasp. and minutes later, he was able to conjure up a disturbingly realistic illusion of a rain storm. he descended back into his realm and all he had to do was wait.

you, however, flinched as the first droplets hit you. looking around for shelter, you spotted a cave entrance just a little way ahead, scrambling to sit there and wait for the storm to pass. the ground and walls felt cold against your body, nothing to separate your skin from the dark stone but your gown that was now soaked through and clung to your body.

minutes after you had sat down, a vaguely familiar scent breezed past you and had your head darting to look into the deeper part of the cave. there was no way it came from outside, not a single house in sight as the dewy smell of rain overtook the meadow. so your next most likely assumption was that it came from inside the cave. you stared into the seemingly endless abyss, squinting into the darkness for signs of, well, anything other than rocks and dirt.

and that’s when you saw it. a brief flickering flame, metres away from where you were sat. in the seconds that it lit, you could faintly make out what looked to be a staircase, descending further into a cave. an intrigued hum left you as you pushed yourself up from the ground and walked to the strange stairs, basket of berries and flowers left behind. there’s a reason they say curiosity killed the cat.

it was significantly colder as you stood at the top of the carved stairs, staring as far as you could see before they winded around and further into the unknown. another light came on, this time around the corner the stairs disappeared behind. with a final look at the exit of the cave, you began your unknowing descent into hell.

the light behind you flickered before going out, leaving you in darkness until you passed by the next torch, mounted on the damp stone. you planted your hand on the wall, afraid you’d lose your footing as each flame only lit the foreign path temporarily. the deeper you went, the colder you got. by the time you thought the stairs were endless, you could see faint puffs of white air emerging from your shaking lips with each breath you took. shivers ran through your body occasionally, your wet dress not doing anything to keep you warm.

just when you were going to give up and turn around to return to the surface, you stumbled at the unexpected absence of yet another step. your faint wince echoed through the small space as you rolled your ankle, instinctively holding yourself against the stone wall. your hand slipped from the wall for a second, a pebble falling and rolling until it stopped with an odd “clink.” you looked up in confusion to see what made the pebble stop with such a sound. looking with wide, bewildered eyes, a black and engraved set of double doors stood a few steps ahead of you. had they been there the whole time?

maybe someone lived there, someone who could help you. your father kept you safe and sound for as long as you could remember, teaching you to always see the best in people, rendering you a little sheltered and much too kind. perhaps this is what made you so trusting as you forced yourself to walk to the doors on limping legs. both doors had beautiful metal knockers mounted on them. the rusted brass resembled three dog heads, a heavy metal ring hanging from the snout of the dog in the middle. more than mildly nervous and with cold, shaking hands, you reached forward and tentatively lifted the ring of the right door before letting it knock against the dark wood.

moments later it swung open, held by a tall, pale-skinned man with slim fingers. for a moment you forgot what you were there for, caught off guard by the sharp eyes that looked down at you. your warm breath swirled in the air as you finally pieced together a sentence.

“i’m sorry, sir, but… i-i really meant to leave but i hurt my ankle…” you spoke quietly, your voice an octave higher than it usually was.

his gaze softened, the light of a torch on the wall reflecting in his dark eyes, and he smiled down at you as he opened the door wider and stepped aside. “oh, you poor thing. please, come inside.”

seonghwa watched you walk past him and into this home he had conjured up just for your arrival. it was quite dark, illuminated by a fireplace and candelabras decorating shelves and tables. he didn’t care enough to provide more light, completely entranced by the way you kneeled in front of the hearth, hands outstretched to warm them by the fire. they looked so much smaller compared to his. seeing you up close made his heart skip a beat, he wanted nothing more than to lay his hands on your smooth skin, run them through your damp hair, pat the thin and wet flowing dress dry and keep you warm. droplets of the rain ran from the top of you head down your face slowly, occasionally getting caught in your eyebrows or the corner of your beautiful lips.

he wondered fleetingly if they felt as soft as they looked. another bead of rain made it past your features, trailing past your jawline and neck. his eyes tracked it but when it disappeared under the fabric covering your chest, he refused to continue looking.

you felt his presence standing beside you a moment later, drawing your eyes—your naïve, innocent eyes—to look up at him. he offered you a hand to help you stand.

“come, love, let me take a look at your ankle,” he smiled at you kindly, pulling you up helpfully as you took his hand. once you stood, you stumbled slightly, accidentally putting weight on your injured ankle and wincing. one of his arm quickly looped itself around your waist, holding you up against him so you wouldn’t fall.

his touch was gentle yet you felt a certain firmness to it, feeling as if his warm hand was searing through your cold gown. your cheeks burned and you looked away shyly, something that had him biting back a smile as he guided you to sit at one of the sofas. he was mildly surprised by how small and delicate you felt in his arms. you felt fragile. there was something so seductive about that, the thought of breaking you in the most intimate of ways. but soon he had to let you go. after you settled into the cushions of the seat, his movements caught your eye.

your jaw nearly dropped when you saw him kneeling on the ground before you. though you weren’t aware of it, something made you so special that you had a god getting on the ground on his knees in front of a mortal. his dark eyes found yours, voice as gentle as it had been the whole time.

“may i?”

when you gave him a small nod, not trusting yourself to say anything, his hand grazed your calf before gently wrapping around your ankle and lifting it to rest on his thigh. despite his intimidating and malicious role among the deities, he was softer with you than anyone could ever imagine. he slipped off your shoe but kept your sock on, dragging the ruffled trim just under your heel so he could inspect the swelling at your ankle. the ruffles tickled you as he moved it, eliciting the most melodic giggle he’d ever heard.

when he glanced up at you, a smile stretched your tempting lips and making your smooth cheeks swell as you looked back down at him. he couldn’t help but smile, endeared by everything you did.

“it tickles.” you explained through another giggle, looking down at him. as his gaze returned to your ankle, you took note of how close he was. if he leaned forward just a little he’d be able to brush his plump lips along your knees. he knew that, of course, since he planned it. every touch, every position, every word had been meticulously planned, it was no surprise to him how close be found himself.

well, other than you getting injured, everything had been planned.

his slender finger pressed against different areas of your swollen ankle with featherlight pressure, gauging where it hurt most. you winced occasionally, but a certain spot made you flinch and whimper.

“there?” he whispered, looking up at you. his gaze was still tender as he gazed at you, his fingers pressing against that spot again with just a little more pressure. you knew he needed to check if it was really that spot, but in reality he wanted nothing more than to hear those lovely sounds tumble from your lips. to his delight, you did just that, bottom lip quivering slightly with the sound as you nodded. his gaze fell to your lips and he imagined kissing you, sucking your lower lip into his mouth, but he refocused his thoughts on your injury quickly.

“how did you even hurt yourself like this?” his other hand moved to the knee of your uninjured leg, thumb brushing small circles soothingly.

“i missed a step on the stairs and rolled my ankle.” you frowned slightly, the cute downturn if the corners of your lips almost making him coo at you. you leaned forward to catch a glimpse of your ankle but it was hard to see in the dim light provided by the fireplace and various candelabras around on shelves.

“i see… how careless of you, dear,” he tutted, fingers tapping against your knee absentmindedly, “but it’s okay, don’t worry. it’s just a small injury… wait here for a moment while i go get something, alright?”

you nodded once more and he got up, disappearing through a doorway as your eyes traced over his figure. you looked around the room as you waited patiently. it was a simple sitting room slash entrance area at first glance, but upon looking closer you found there were many little breathtaking details littered around for those who cared enough to find them. intricately embroidered golden designs decorating the wine red carpet beneath your feet, the shelves lining the wall on either side of the fireplace stocked with worn books neatly.

silent brisk steps drew your eyes back to him as the handsome stranger returned, a little glass bottle and roll of bandages held in his hands. his cheeks warmed at the sight of you sitting there so pretty and obediently. seonghwa kneeled in front of you once again and brought your foot to the same position as before.

“i’m going to apply this,” he held up the bottle for you to see, a mysterious deep blue liquid swishing around inside, “it’ll be cold and it might hurt a bit, but i promise to be gentle, okay?” after you nodded silently, he uncapped the bottle and poured a bit into his hand. “i’ll need you to stay still and relax. can you do that for me, love?”

after you gave him a muttered ‘yes’ he flattened his palm over the swelling. true to his word, the liquid he had poured into his hand was icy cold and stung a little as he rubbed it in as gently as possible. if you had to describe the feeling, you’d compared it to hundred of pinpricks concentrated on one area. it was uncomfortable, to say the least.

your eyes squeezed shut and your hands dug into the couch beneath you. you felt his touch leave your knee but a second later his hand found it’s way to yours, slipping between your fingers for you to hold him instead of tearing up his couch. he squeezed reassuringly and his heart swelled when you squeezed back.

before you knew it, his warm voice filled the silence of the room. “all done. you can open your eyes now, darling, you did so well.”

you eyes opened slowly at his words and looked down. he was peering up at you with round caring eyes, making your stomach flutter. his hand on your ankle lingered before he pulled away so you could have a look at the bandages wrapped around it skilfully, his other hand still intertwined with yours.

“thank you…?” you trailed off, indirectly asking for his name. despite him being a stranger, you somehow trusted this handsome man with your life. perhaps it was because he had shown you nothing but kindness thus far, every one of his actions illuminating warmth and care.

“of course. the ointment works fairly quickly, so you should be free to walk around just fine for a few hours at least,” his lips tugged into a small grin. he thought you were so cute, too shy to be upfront about your interest in him.

he wasn’t blind, your increased heart rate below his touch didn’t go unnoticed by him. for a moment, he considered lying to you—introducing you to an identity that didn’t exist in fear that you’d run away from him once he revealed himself. however, soon enough he came to the conclusion that he wanted you to love him, not some made up caricature. besides, he didn’t have to tell you about his occupation just yet. “it’s seonghwa.”

you tested the syllables on your tongue and he could’ve sworn honey poured right out of your mouth with how sweet you sounded. he nodded encouragingly and you gave him your name. he decided it fit you and your serene disposition. you watched with a warming face as he lifted your hand to his lips, eyes locked on yours as he kissed your knuckles.

“pleasure to make your acquaintance, love.” he winked smoothly before standing from the ground, pulling you off the couch with him. his eyes glanced down at your dress. it was still wet but not nearly as drenched as it was before, though it still clung to your body, teasing him. “you must be uncomfortable. if you want, i probably have a change of clothes for you.”

you smiled at his invitation gratefully, nodding. “i’d love that, thank you.”

“down that hall,” he pointed in the direction he went earlier to get that odd liquid, “the second door on the right is a bedroom. you’ll find some clothes in the closet, i think they’ll fit you.”

you took a step towards the hall before stopping and turning around to look at him with a questioning gaze. it didn’t take a genius to figure out what you were thinking. he fumbled to find a convincing excuse, speaking slowly. “my, uh, sister used to live with me but she moved away recently, so her clothes are still there.”

the explanation satisfied you and he watched as you followed his instructions, eyes drawn to the way you hips swayed slightly with each step. you stepped through the door he told you to, yellow candlelight seeping into the hallway before you closed it behind you. but it didn’t close fully and left you visible through the sliver. he forced his eyes away when he caught a glimpse of you pulling your gown off yourself.

just as he said, you found many suitable clothes in the shelves of the wooden dresser. the room itself was quite plain, though the bed looked more than comfortable. there were many options, though all of them seemed to be dresses of some kind. long or short, dark or pastel, silk or cotton, and everything in between. finally you settled on a flowy white nightgown, the skirt brushing against your thighs. you pulled on some clean socks and slippers and dried your hair as best you could with a towel you found before stepping out to join him in the sitting room again.

but when you got there, he was nowhere to be found. looking around in confusion, you breathed a sigh if relief when you heard him call your name for another room, beckoning you to join him. upon entering said room, it quickly became apparent it was a dining room.

the walls were practically black, much like the rest of the house so far, and made the room appear much darker than it probably actually was despite the multiple candelabras on the long wooden table and the extravagant chandelier hanging from the ceiling. he sat at the chair on the left of the head of the table, a meal set in front of the head. he gestured for you take a seat in front of it. you obliged quickly.

his eyes roamed over your figure, lips parting in a soft exhale at the sight of your bare thighs. fleetingly, he came to the conclusion he wanted to bury his head between them, let them squeeze and suffocate him as he ravished you. before he could further entertain those thoughts, the squeak of the chair brought him out of his head.

“i figured you’d be hungry, so i made a little something for you,” he spoke as you got comfortable in the seat, pushing a glass of water towards you, “i hope it’s up to your standards, dear.”

you gazed down at the bowl of what appeared to be chicken soup with vegetables before looking back up at him. “you’re too kind, really, you didn’t have to do all this for me.”

he was more than delighted by your kindness and manners, looking at him so cutely with the candlelight dancing in your eyes magically. “no but i did have to. i can’t have you sitting here, injured and starved… plus, it’s nice to have company.”

“oh?” his final sentence piqued your interest, fiddling with the handle of your spoon. “you don’t get a lot of company?”

he really didn’t, other than the souls that made down here after their bodies passed on. but that’s a conversation for another time. he shook his head slightly, lifting a glass of wine you hadn’t noticed before to his lips. he let it sit in his mouth for a moment before swallowing it and returning his gaze to you.

“not very often, no…” he explained slowly, setting the glass back on the table with a quiet clink before folding his hands beside it, elegant as ever, “people don’t tend to come all the way down here and i don’t tend to invite people over.”

a frown tugged at you lips and you turned your gaze away, feeling slightly ashamed. “i’m sorry to have bothered your peace then, seonghwa.”

he tensed, hands gripping each other just a little tighter. why on earth were you ashamed, why were you apologising? he reached over and placed a hand over your free one, momentarily distracted by how soft it felt in his grip before he was quick to reassure you. “oh no, darling, don’t you dare apologise. you’re not bothering me at all, really. it’s been a long time since i’ve enjoyed someone’s company this much.”

“r-really?” you finally looked at him again, the warmth returning to his stomach as he faintly noticed one of the straps threatening to fall off your shoulder.

“really,” he reaffirmed, turning your hand over so he could hold it properly, “i should be thanking you, if anything.”

you averted your gaze once again, this time feeling shy rather than ashamed; a fact that had him grinning. soon enough, you began eating your soup, humming at the taste approvingly after the first taste. you conversed leisurely as you ate, jumping from subject to subject naturally as if you’d known each other for years. you asked him why he wasn’t eating with you, to which he said he’d already eaten and didn’t feel hungry. this was, of course, a lie since deities like him don’t need to eat anyway.

eventually, you finished, slumping back in your seat with a yawn. “that was absolutely amazing. thank you, hwa.”

the new nickname had his cheeks tinting a soft pink but he hid it quickly. he watched you yawn. somehow everything you did felt adorable to him, the urge to scoop you up in his arms to hold you tightly and kiss you softly growing stronger by the second. if he weren’t a man with unrivalled self-restraint and patience, he would’ve done it by now.

“someone’s tired, huh?” he cooed at you, crossing one leg over the other. “you should go sleep in the room you got the clothes from. i’d prefer for you to stay until your ankle is fully healed, just in case.”

you nodded slowly, another yawn ripped from your throat as you got up and stretched your arms over your head. the movement caused the skirt of your nightgown to ride up, his breath hitching as he realised if it went up any further head be able to see your lacy white undergarments you’d borrowed from the dresser too. he distracted himself with a chuckle, standing up and guiding you out of the dining room to the bedroom by the small of your back.

before you knew it, you were on your back on the bed of the bedroom that supposedly belonged to his sister. your dress fell over your body entrancingly, tempting his hungry eyes as he stood over you, adoring the way your hair laid on the satin pillow. you turned to your side and curled up with your knees pulled to your chest. he caught a glimpse of your lacy panties before they fell over the swell of your ass as if they hadn’t moved in the first place.

thoughts swarmed his mind, none of them appropriate. he imagined your legs wrapped around his waist, burying himself into the curve of your neck, sculpted for his face to fit right there. he longed to feel your soft curves against his fingers, not a single layer of clothing separating you.

“hwa?” the way you said his name made his thoughts snap to reality as his eyes found yours. the nickname sounded so wonderful with your voice, he wanted to bottle up the sound and keep it safe on a shelf for the rest of eternity. not only that, but the way you looked at him, lips parted softly with small breaths, cheeks flushed, and eyes looking wide and innocent. oh, how innocent you smelled to him. he was torn between preserving it and corrupting it.

“yes, love?” he whispered back, brushing a strand of your hair from you face as casually as possible.

“thank you… for everything,” you whispered, peering up at him with those same glittering round eyes, “i’ll be sure to repay you for your kindness when i can.”

“there’s no need, really. it’s nothing,” he chuckled quietly, gaze flitting all over your features—you fluttering eyelashes, the slope of your nose, the curve of your neck, the slight upturn of the corners of your lips. he took a deep breath as discreetly as possible, reminding himself that there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to convince you to stay with him, he shouldn’t get too attached just yet.

somehow, he held himself back from pulling you into his arms and kissing you breathless. he pulled his hand back after letting his thumb brush against your cheekbone for a moment.

“i’ll let you rest now,” he whispered, “sleep well. i’ll see you in the morning, love.”

you muttered a soft ‘goodnight, hwa’ in return before he was out of the room and shutting the door a second later.

the door clicked shut and you heard his footsteps getting more and more distant. you let out another quiet yawn, pulling the comfortable blanket over your body and up to your chin. your room was quiet, the silence oddly comforting. something about the place had that feel and despite being so far underground, it didn’t feel claustrophobic at all. you compared it to home, your parents always bickering with each other or taking out their frustrations on you. it felt nice to be in a quiet space again, and you briefly wondered if you could stay a little longer than another day.

your eyelids became heavier with each blink in the dark before they ultimately closed completely, pulling you into a deep sleep.

though you didn’t expect it to last so long, over a week passed and you were still staying with him in his little cave house. you didn’t mind, of course, since he took such great care of you. in the week, you’d grown closer, treating each other like lovers though neither of you brought it up. he’d let you sit in his lap and you’d let him brush his fingers through your hair.

you stirred awake, one day short of having spent two weeks with him. today was one of those days where he’d gone out to run some errands, trusting you enough to leave you alone. with not much to do, you usually sat in his little library or took a nap until the evening. this time you chose the latter.

some hair clung to the thin layer of sweat on your forehead, your blanket displaced and only covering half of your left leg, having kicked it off in your sleep. for a second you couldn’t remember where you were, but memories of the previous days returned quickly and you relaxed before sitting up and looking around the room. the candle had stayed on overnight, providing light in a place where windows really couldn’t exist.

there was no indication of the time other than a clock on one of the bedside tables. assuming it was functional and accurate, it was 10:24 in the evening. you hummed, surprised you’d slept so much when usually you’d be awake hours before that. with a quiet groan, you realised there was no point in going back to bed, pulling yourself off the mattress and to the door.

you reached for the door handle but paused, pulling back to check yourself in the mirror. not wanting to look like a mess in front of seonghwa, you readjusted your dress so it sat on your body properly and tried your best to make your hair appear less messy. only then did you tiptoe your way out of your bedroom and to the sitting room.

he was back already, sat on the couch and readings a book, back straight and one leg crossed elegantly over the other. he wore something different. instead of the loose white shirt, black briefs and black corset, he now wore a black vest that had sheer black sleeves with black briefs. the neckline of his vest dipped low, revealing the lean muscles of his chest. you forced yourself to look away, settling into the armchair across from him, separated by a long coffee table.

“i don’t bite, you know,” he spoke without looking up from his book, sounding amused that you sat so far away after how close you’d been the night before.

your daze cracked, chuckling as you stood and walking around the coffee table to sit beside him on his right. though you weren’t touching, a few centimetres of space between you, you could feel his body heat radiating off him. he glanced down at your exposed thighs briefly before continuing to read, or at least trying to. his eyes were stuck on the same line for a minute, distracted by the way you leaned your head on his shoulder to read with him.

he contemplated pulling you onto his lap, missing the feel of your weight against him like the night before. you had insisted for him to carry you to bed, pouty and tired, and when he did, he had a hard time letting go of you and ended up sitting with his back against the headboard with you snuggled safely on his lap until you fell asleep.

knowing you wouldn’t mind, he moved his right arm around your waist, slipping his hand down to your hip to make pulling you onto his lap easier. once you were there, straddling him so prettily, he let you rest the side of your head on his shoulder, your nose brushing against his neck as he tried his best to maintain his focus on his book. to the world he was a merciless king, but with you in his lap he was tender and caring.

you shifted your head, trying to look down at the book he was reading. your breath tickled him as you spoke. “what’re you reading?”

“oh,” he turned the book over for you to see the title. he let you read over, revelling in the feeling of your nose and lips accidentally grazing his neck. it tested every inch if his patience. feeling your heart beat against his chest and wanting so desperately to crawl into your ribcage, cradling your heart in his hands and peppering the beating muscle with kisses. he cleared his throat. “it’s a collection of poetry and letters.”

“you like poetry?” you giggled quietly and he swore he could taste the sweetness of it.

“i do,” he nodded, the tips of his ears dusted a rosy pink, “would you like me to read some to you?”

the offer made you feel giddy for some reason, glancing up at him with a grin as you nodded. you could only imagine how poetry would sound spoken by his divine voice.

seonghwa snickered at your excitement, flipping through the pages of his book to find something worthy of your ears. he stopped at a page near the end, his hand dropping back to your hip as he began reading. he traced a finger over your hipbone as he did, the light pressure making you squirm lightly in his lap.

“i have never surrendered myself entirely to anyone but you, and only recently. and to let my heart speak, when i am pressed against you, is an emotion and a peace that overflows all imagination.”

by the time he finished reading it, you were holding your breath, heart hammering against your ribs so hard you had no doubt he’d be able to feel it. the way he said it sounded less like a recitation and more like a confession, your stomach buzzing with anticipation as you sat up to look at him face to face, eye to eye, your hands resting on his chest.

your touch drove him to insanity. the soft press of your fingers against his vest, making it that much harder to hold himself back. he wanted to hold you against him forever. to inhale your scent so that his lungs would depend on you and only you. to touch you, to kiss you, to knit your flesh to his so you’d never leave him, to devour you, consume you. he wanted to do it all.

he could only whisper, “may i?”

his words echoed what he said before tending to your ankle two weeks prior, the day you first met him. that felt so long ago, a nostalgic smile tugging at your lips as you nodded.

his hand squeezed you hip gently while the other moved to cup your jaw, wasting no time in pulling your face to his. it was a slow, reverent kiss that filled every inch of your senses with warmth. your lips felt softer than he imagined. when your lips finally touched, your fingers curled into his vest, sighing against his lips softly.

he shuddered at the sound, pulling your hips tighter against him and pressing his lips against yours a little harder, your body perfectly molded to his as if that’s where you belonged. his tongue ran along your bottom lip, not pushing into your mouth, just tasting you enough to satiate his growing hunger. despite the way your hips rolled against him, guided by his hand and eliciting subtle gasps against his lips, he couldn’t help but still find you so sweet, so innocent, as you let him kiss you breathless.

in a way, you reminded him of a little lamb, hunted by a wolf. one could say you had tamed him. he could easily tear out your throat, add you to his collection of souls, yet he decided to kiss you instead. kiss you so softly your cheeks warmed.

the next time your eyes fluttered open, you somehow found yourself in your room, still on his lap as he sat on the edge. his kisses slowed, being replaced with repeated pecks before he pulled away fully to rest his forehead against yours, panting.

he sighed your name and for a second you felt the world stop, the sound making your head spin. “darling, please, let me taste you.”

your breath hitched at his whispered request, suddenly aware of your panties sticking to your wet core. wordlessly, you nodded and he manoeuvred you to lay on your back, making sure your head rested on your pillow comfortably.

he kissed your forehead, then your lips. from there he kissed his way further down over your nightgown—your jaw, neck, shoulder, collarbone, the valley of your breast, your stomach, hipbones, the top of your pelvis—all the while murmuring praises of how beautiful you were. his hands rested on your waist and moved down to your thighs, spreading them apart without resistance as he kneeled between them.

with a final look at your curious face, looking down and following his every action with your eyes, he dragged the end of your skirt up, revealing more and more of your smooth thighs and baby blue cotton panties. he thought they were cute as he let the dress bunch up at your waist, leaning down to kiss the little satin bow of your undergarments before hooking his finger through them.

he began dragging them down but stopped abruptly when you place a hand over his own, worried eyes darting to look at you. all you had to do was say the word and he’d stop.

“no one has ever… you know,” you blushed, too shy to say no one had ever eaten you out, only giving your lower half a meaningful glance.

relieved, he chuckled lowly and kissed the hand atop his. “you know i’ll be careful, darling. just relax, okay?”

once you relaxed as he told you to, he slipped his fingers between yours, using his other hand to slip your underwear down and off you, tossing them in a random direction before finally taking a look at the parts of you he craved the most. he nearly moaned at the sight of your pink folds, glistening in the dim light as your engorged clit begged for his attention.

leaning down to kiss your inner thighs first, his tongue slid between your folds, licking an experimental stripe from your hole to your clit, drawing a soft whine from you. he himself groaned at the taste, the sweet nectar that seeped from your body.

“fuck, you taste so good.”

your thighs quivered around his head as he pushed his face deep into your heat, lapping up your juices and sucking at your nub with the desperation of a starved man. each prod of his tongue had your breath shaking, whimpering, as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. before, you figured it would feel good, but not quite this delicious.

when you came, you came with a faint cry of his name, body arching of the bed. your hand that didn’t hold his moved to his hair at some point during his meal, tugging softly as your juices gushed out and you twitched from overstimulation, his tongue unrelenting and determined to swallow every last drop of your release.

he pulled away as you tugged at his hair, moving his torso up your body to kiss you. it was less a kiss and more feverish presses against each other, his tongue wandering between your teeth and making you taste yourself. you couldn’t taste much, but to his sensitive taste buds you were the sweetest thing he’d ever had.

his hips pressed against yours and your breath hitched, feeling the weight of his erection straining against his pants and nudging your aching clit. he pulled back from your lips, searching your eyes for any sign that you wanted to stop. but you only nodded encouragingly and he grinned, his lips moving to your neck as he helped you sit up so he could pull your dress off you and finally see everything he’d been fantasising about.

he detached his lips from your pulse point to pull it the rest of the way and toss it in a random direction, his eyes trained on your breasts. they were just as pretty as he imagined, nudging you to lay down again so he could take one erect nipple into his mouth and suck and lick and kiss it and around it.

“you look so pretty right now, love,” he muttered against your skin as he kissed his way to your other breast, his hands working on releasing himself from his pants while yours unbuttoned his vest, hands shaking with want.

you closed your eyes and leaned your head back against your pillow, your fingers gripping onto his bare shoulders as he dragged his tip through your folds, gathering your wetness. he kissed your cheek.

“tell me if anything hurts, okay?”

only once you breathed an ‘okay’ did he begin pushing in. he was blessed with a cock so big and perfect it hit every sensitive spot in your walls with precision as his length filled you slowly. his tip alone had you gasping softly, moaning incoherently as your eyes rolled back and fell shut, the stretch somehow pleasing you.

when he bottomed out, his eyes were drawn to the way he could see himself pressing through the bottom of your stomach, groaning as he passed his hand over the area and felt the bump. he stilled inside you, not moving until you told him so.

“p-please move, hwa.”

his pace throughout was relaxed, slow but not painfully slow, just enough roughness to his grinds to leave you breathless without tipping you over the edge just yet. it was when his hand slipped under your waist and angled you differently that you began feeling the familiar knot tighten in your abdomen.

he had a hard time stopping himself from releasing the moment he entered you, your walls hugging him so perfectly he choked back a moan with each stroke. everything about you felt as if you’d been made for him to worship, for him to indulge in. before you had come along, there was that occasional craving of romance, of wanting someone. he longed for someone to hold his hand, whose eyes replied to his so lovingly.

and there you were, beneath him, squeezing one of his hands while your dilated pupils showed him just how much you wanted him too.

you bit down on your bottom lip to hold back your sounds, something that made him chuckle and kiss the bridge of your nose. “don’t be shy, i want to hear you.”

his quiet praises made your face warm, letting out the softest of moans as his words shot straight to your core.

“you take me so well, love.” “you’re so precious and all mine.” “keep your eyes on me, darling.”

at some point his deep slow strokes grew needy and faster, pounding against your g-spot repeatedly as moans and whimpers of the two of you filled the room, hot breaths mingling with each other. your next orgasm crashed down on you with little warning, your walls squeezing around him as he muffled your sounds with his lips.

he came soon after that, filling you with his release after you had told him it was okay. his face dropped into the crook of your neck, cock twitching until his body slumped against yours.

after cleaning you up with a damp towel and slipping a new pair of panties over your legs, he joined you in bed once more and wrapped his arms around you. your legs tangled together and your chest pressed against his, your head tucked under his chin as you drifted back to sleep, lazy kisses placed onto the crown of your head.

he sighed softly and shut his eyes, filled with thoughts. now that he’s had you, he could hardly see himself letting go of you. but why would he? you were all he wanted and more.

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

#cromernet #wonderlandnet #cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #ateez x reader #ateez #park seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa headcanons #seonghwa angst #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa imagines #ateez reactions #ateez smut #ateez fluff

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lordprettyflackotara · 2 months

Text

living room flow || Matt Sturniolo

smut 18+, minors dni | a/n: i thought the ending was too emo so i made it just a tad haha. also, first time writing for matt? w? L? thoughts?

Matt patiently waited for you to text him.

He always did, eagerly checking his notifications constantly.

Matt knew that when you texted him that it would only be for one thing.

The brunette sat by his phone as he usually did, trying to distract himself by poorly playing fortnite.

“Hey bro you good? You’ve died every game,” Chris asked. Matt hesitated his response, knowing his affair with you was to be kept hidden. You had no intentions of a relationship and zero intentions of your late nights with Matt getting leaked to anyone. To Matt’s dismay, that included Nick and Chris.

“Yeah man i’m just-” Matt began to respond, setting his controller down. It was in that moment his phone lit up, the satisfying vibration catching Matt’s attention. He grabbed it immediately, unlocking it to read the notification.

Hey, you game tonight?

Matt smiled at your words, quickly texting you back that he was, as always. “I’m just tired, i’m gonna hop off and try to get some sleep,” Matt rambled, excusing himself from the game. The brothers exchanged quick goodbyes, Matt jumping off of the game immediately.

Be there in five

Matt frantically sprayed on some cologne, running his hands through his messy hair. As sneaky as possible he crept down the stairs, careful to not alert his brothers of his presence. You never knocked on the door, always carefully waiting for Matt to open it.

By the time Matt opened it you were going feral. You walked into the house, planting your lips onto his. Electric waves of pleasure shot up his spine, his brain barely functioning enough to remember to shut the front door. Matt smirked into the kiss, roughly matching your energy. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

He began tugging at your shirt, causing you to pull away. “Here? What about Chris and Nick-” You whispered. Matt helped you take off your shirt, his eyes full of lust as he eyed your breast. “Better be quiet then, hmm?” Matt replied, leaning forward once more. He cornered you against the kitchen counter, tilting your head to the side to give him access to your neck.

He began sucking and licking at your skin, littering it with what you were sure to be love marks in the morning. Covering you in marks was the most possessive Matt could be with you, your agreement to this in the first place centered around no strings attached. You never packed any clothes, you weren’t that lonely, but you did like Matt. Matt knew as soon as both of you had came, you would be going.

It was apart of the reason he took his time with you, trying to draw out the amount of time you’d spend with him. His large hands snaked their way down to your shorts and panties, yanking them down in a swift motion. You could feel your cheeks blushing red, even if Matt had seen you in this position dozens of times. He was always so creative and kinky, you never knew what to expect from him. You would’ve never guessed when you had met him.

You unclasped your bra, leaving your body completely exposed to the feral man in front of you. Matt was quick to lower himself to his knees, lifting you to sit on the kitchen counter. The marble was cool against your skin, goosebumps rising as Matt kissed in between your thighs. “I need you to be good and quiet for me, can you do that?” Matt asked you. You nodded, your breath hitching as he spread your legs.

He lifted your legs, placing them over his shoulders as he licked a stripe up your cunt. You held back a moan, your hand finding its way to his hair. “Matt,” You whispered, his eyes meeting yours. You were so pretty like this, when you were absolutely desperate to be touched in the slightest way. Matt began lapping at your cunt, sucking at your clit. Your thighs squeezed his head, your sinful noises muffled as you grinded against his face.

Matt brought two fingers to your cunt, knowing you enough to know you were impatient. You enjoyed the feeling of getting stretched out, even if it took you a moment to adjust. But Matt’s fingers had been in you so many times now, he felt like they felt perfectly. “Better keep quiet slut, wouldn’t want them to hear you, would you?” Matt taunted. You bit the inside of your cheek, shaking your head no.

Your walls were squeezing around his as he curled his fingers inside of you, finger fucking you aggressively. That was another thing Matt adored about you. You liked it just as rough as he did. Matt admired you as he watched you struggle to contain yourself. “Or would you like that? Maybe Chris could join. You’d like that, wouldn’t you slut?” Matt asked mockingly. You quietly groaned his name as you tugged at the roots of his hair.

Your walls involuntarily squeezed at the idea of taking both him and Chris, causing him to smirk. He brought himself to his feet, towering over you as he relentlessly finger fucked you. “Oh you like that. You want me and Chris to use both of your holes?” Matt whispered. You let out a soft moan, a familiar knot forming in your stomach. Your brain was slowly turning to mush, your body drunk on the pleasure Matt was giving you.

“Answer me whore, I asked you a question,” Matt growled, glaring down at you. You met his eyes as he studied you. You nodded yes, afraid if you spoke the filthy sounds you were holding in would be unleashed. Matt brought his spare hand to your throat, his rings cool against your skin as he choked you. “Words baby, tell me what you want,” Matt said as lovingly as he could muster. He loved to watch you humiliate yourself for him, babbling filthy nonsense fantasies.

“I-I want you and C-Chris to use me,” You stuttered, trying to keep your groans under control. You grabbed Matt’s wrist, moaning as he squeezed your neck. “I’m gonna cum, fuck i’m gonna fucking cum,” You whispered. You grinded your hips on his hand as he was knuckles deep inside of you, euphoria washing over you as you came on his fingers. Matt smirked as he watched you come down from your high, slowly removing his fingers from your cunt.

You panted as you watched Matt remove his shirt, gasping in surprise as he picked you up off of the counter. He laid you down on the couch and you silently thanked him for putting you on the velvet one. He leaned back, beginning to tug down his plaid pajama pants. “You sure you’re going to be able to be quiet as I fuck you senseless?” Matt asked teasingly. You rolled your eyes playfully, helping him tug down his pants and boxers.

“If you don’t hurry up I might change my mind and go see if Chris is available,” You teased. Matt leaned over you, bringing his hand back to your throat. “You’re cute, but you belong to me,” Matt whispered. He brought his shaft to your aching cunt, your body melting at his words. You swallowed as he squeezed your throat, gathering your slick on the tip of his cock. “You’re all mine,” Matt muttered, pushing himself inside of you.

You both moaned in unison as he slowly slid into you, stretching you out as he buried his cock inside of you. His words barely processed in your mind, his tip brushing against your g spot. You struggled to remain quiet as he slowly began to move, involuntarily you moaned his name. Matt began to pick up the pace, releasing your throat and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

You both were whimpering messes, his cock abusing your cunt to his liking. “You feel so good,” Matt praised, placing sloppy kisses onto your neck. You clung onto his back, your nails digging into his skin. He continued to fuck you, both of you losing yourselves in the pleasure the other provided. Matt almost didn’t hear the familiar sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, his eyes widening once he heard a tiktok playing from one of his brothers phones.

Shit.

In a swift motion Matt grabbed your hips, rolling both of you off of the couch and onto the floor. “Matt! What the fuck?” You whispered, your back slamming against the carpet. Matt shoved his hand over your mouth, placing his finger to his lips to signal you to be quiet. Your eyes widened as the sound of random tiktok audios rang off of the walls. Matt peeked around the couch, Chris’s face buried into his phone. As Matt moved he brushed against your g spot, your whimpering muffled by Matt’s hand.

Matt looked down at you, the fridge light illuminating the look of lust written across your face. Matt smirked. “You freaky fuck,” Matt grumbled, ensuring that only both of you heard him. Matt slowly bucked his hips, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as the sound of Chris rummaging through the fridge became background noise. The stairs were connected to the kitchen, surely the couch in the living room would provide you both enough privacy, right?

Matt listened intently as Chris grabbed a snack, his eyes glued to his phone as he went back upstairs. You could feel your orgasm approaching, Matt’s slow and sensual strokes sending you quickly to euphoria. The idea that Chris could catch you at any moment made your walls squeeze Matt tighter. The sound of Chris’s footsteps up the stairs slowly evaporated out of earshot.

“Fuck you’re milking me baby,” Matt groaned, picking up his pace. He snapped his hips into yours, your thighs trembling as you felt your orgasm approaching. Matt kept his hand over your mouth, your hand gripping his wrist as you came. Your thighs shook violently as you came, Matt’s thrust slowing down as he pulled out of you. He groaned your name as he jacked his cock in front of you, whimpering as he came on your stomach.

His cum painted your skin, his hand removed from your mouth as he looked down and admired you. Your heart was racing, your breathing slowly going back to normal as you came down from your high. “You’re so pretty,” Matt murmured. You gave him a weak smile, your head spinning as you slowly sat up. “Here let me help you,” Matt whispered. He grabbed a nearby tissue box, wiping your stomach clean and cleaning you up.

In less than a minute you were collecting your scattered clothes off of the floor and redressing yourself. Matt licked his dry lips as he pulled on his pajama pants, watching as you quickly shoved your clothes back on. “You know you don’t have to go, you can always stay the night,” Matt offered. You ran your fingers through your hair, giving him a small smile. You walked to the door, holding your sneakers.

“Maybe next time Matty,”

You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, before you disappeared into the night.

Matt watched you went, before slowly shutting the door.

As sneaky as he could he headed upstairs, gently closing his bedroom door behind him. He sighed. Out of disappointment you left, but also out of relief his brothers didn’t manage to hear anything out of the ordinary. Matt felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, causing him to quickly dig it out of his pants.

From: Chris

Next time you have a sneaky link over, try to not leave her clothes all over the kitchen. I almost slipped on her panties and fell. Not cool dude.

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hannieehaee · 3 months

Note

GOSH im in love with your writing like YOU HAVE NO IDEA SWEETHEART

And I'm desperate for some friends to lovers with seokmin who begs to taste you, his bff, after you joked about how your friends are saying he would be the best in eating a girl out bc of his nose🫦

18+ / mdi

content: simp!seokmin, bffs2lovers, smut, afab reader, eating out, seokmin's nose, etc.

wc: 682

a/n: HEHE THANK U SO MUCH<33 had to choose these pics bc his nose looked soo good in these i cry T-T

masterlist

"o-oh"

"seokmin, fuck, just forget i said anything," you groaned, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.

why did you think it was a good idea to bring up your drunken ramblings to seokmin completely unprovoked?

"n-no! don't be embarrassed. you just surprised me, that's all," he sat next to you on the couch, encouraging you to remove your hands from your face.

"it is embarrassing. i dont want you to think of me as some horny loser lusting after her best friend. i swear, i didnt even bring it up! they were just talking about guys with big noses and you were the first guy that i thought of and-"

"my nose? you thought about how my nose would feel?"

"n-no, i-"

"i, i mean, it's okay if you did," he said, scooting closer to you despite his eyes looking everywhere but into yours.

you decided to take a plunge, turning your body to face his as you looked to him in wonderment.

"what do you mean?"

"i mean, uh, i mean that it wouldn't bother me if ... if you thought about me in that way," seokmin winced at himself as the words left him, still unable to look at you.

gulping, you got closer to him, nudging him to turn to you also.

"do you mean that, seokmin? i ... do you-"

"yes," he was firm in his answer, finally looking at you.

"oh ... do you wanna ..."

"yes," he practically whined.

"o-oh, fuck! m-minnie, just like that ... yes!"

"'sso good, shit. so warm ..."

it hadn't taken much encouragement for you to jump seokmin after he'd given you confirmation that he did, in fact, want you in the same way you did him. after aggressively making out for a good ten minutes or so, seokmin had pleaded for you to please open your legs for him and let him have a taste of you. you, being you, needed no convincing to open your legs and guide him where you wanted him most.

by now he had spent the past ten minutes alternating between licking at you and suckling on your clit, but he was yet to show you what his nose would feel like as it slid against your folds.

before you could beg for it, seokmin's strong arms grabbed a hold of your hips and tilted you a bit in order to position his nose in a way that would grace your bundle of nerves just right all the while his tongue continued to explore you.

you screamed the moment you felt his sharp nose drag up and down your cunt, falling in love with its straight shape and the slight slope of it. the sharpness and rough exterior of his nose made you cry out in pleasure. it wasnt long until you began grinding against his face like a maniac, completely ignoring his attempts at guiding you against his face.

grabbing his head, you rubbed him against you while you canted your cunt against his face, tears flowing down your face at the pleasure.

"y-your nose, minnie! o-oh ... so good, fuck. so fucking good ..." you breathed out, followed by many other praised and curses at the pretty boy below you.

he was unable to speak due to the way you had taken over the entirety of his mouth, but his groans of pleasure were enough to get you crying even harder for him.

seokmin continued savagely eating you out while you ground against his nose all the way until your high, somehow managing to speed up his movements the closer you got to your orgasm.

with a silent scream, your fists closed in on seokmin's hair one last time before you dropped limp against your bed.

the room was silent for a few moments while both you and seokmin caught your breaths. but the moment the two of you were apt to speak, seokmin climbed on the bed and began kissing his way up to your lips, giggling at your fucked out state.

"so my nose, huh?" he teased, face scrunched up due to his pretty smile.

"shut up."

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pepsiboyy · 1 month

Text

AFTERCARE.

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: a blurb on chris taking care of you after intimacy <3 warnings: use of y/n lol, established relationship, cursing, suggestive content, fluff!! a/n: just wanted to write something cute, still growing the courage to post smut so bear with me <3 love you guys thank you for the amazing support so far on my acc!!!

inhale, exhale.

chris's hand gently grazed your temple, down to your cheek, to your jaw, and further down to your chin as he gently ran a thumb against your lips.

all you could do was crack open your eyes to look at your boyfriend and take in his appearance.

the way his hair was flowing in each and every direction. the way his forehead and face were slightly damp. the way his chest rose and fell with each breath that he took. the way his eyes were a deeper shade of blue as they remained on you, admiring you and every part of you.

you two sat in silence as you smiled at one another, before chris leaned in to close the gap between you both.

the kiss was soft. warm. loving. chris's bangs tickled the bridge of your nose, causing you to smile against his lips, which chris only reciprocated.

after a few moments of staying there, chris carefully pulled away and sat up, a hand gently carding through your hair. "let me get you a towel."

and with that, chris quickly stood to his feet. with the slight struggle of sliding on a pair of boxers and a teasing giggle from you, chris made his way to the nearest restroom to your bedroom.

while waiting, you stared at your ceiling and bit your lip.

how did you get so lucky?

chris was an amazing boyfriend. someone who always prioritized your wants and needs over anything, your feelings and what you felt was more important to him than anything. he fucking loves you. more than anything.

"is this one okay to use?"

you turned your head towards the voice, seeing chris holding a gray towel in the doorway. you smiled softly and nodded as you carefully sat up, to which chris immediately rushed over and put his hands on your shoulders. "nuh uh, lay down. you're staying here." he smiled, and you felt your face heat up.

"i'm not helpless, chris-"

"can you let me take care of you at least? let me have my moment," he defended, and you couldn't argue with that.

chris used the towel he retrieved to gently run against your skin, making sure to catch every spot before he sent the towel flying into your laundry bin. his arms shot up in the air in celebration, his jaw dropping as he turned to you. "see that!?"

you smiled and nodded, gently taking chris's shoulder in your hand. you pulled him towards you, pressing your lips to his softly.

with this, chris felt his own cheeks heats up, but nonetheless smiled against your lips and kissed you back.

he pulled away and carefully placed himself beside you in your bed, his arms open.

your arms moved to gently wrap around his waist, your head resting between his shoulder and jaw, nose tucked into the crook of his neck as you took in his scent.

chris's fingers found a home tucked into the strands of your hair, gently brushing through them and occasionally massaging your scalp.

your eyes closed as you hummed softly, your fingers drawing shapeless figures into the skin of his hip and occasionally his side.

"get some sleep, gorgeous." chris whispered softly, his voice a bit groggy. you took this as he was also about to drift into his own slumber.

"i love you, christopher."

a soft chuckle left him as he stopped his movements to wrap his arms around you, encapsulating you in his grasp as he took in a deep breath and smiled brightly.

"i love you more, y/n."

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fluff #chris x reader #chris sturniolo x reader

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some-bunniii · 4 months

Text

Lucifer confessing to an artist reader

・❥ Lucifer gets jealous, and has to prove his love for you

x: WOW this was a rollercoaster to write. Alastor being petty, a musical number, and.. 😏 you’ll have to read and see!

warnings: Mild swearing

“Mreow?”

You stirred slightly under the covers in your bed, waking from the noise. You were so warm and cozy, in your little nest of pillows that you hugged to your chest. Stilling yourself, you strained your ears, listening for whatever had awoken you.

“Mreooow,” came that needy, animalistic cry again.

“KeeKee?” You whispered hoarsely.

A high-pitched chirp answered your question.

Grumbling in protest, you grasped the sheets and pulled them from your face. Squinting at the morning light emanating from the large windows on the other end of the room.

You rubbed a hand down your face, in an attempt to squeeze out the exhaustion still fogging your mind. With a sigh, you pivoted, placing your feet on the cold, wood floor beneath.

Now where was that furball?

You scanned the room, before your eyes landed on the small black and white cyclopean cat. She sat on your nightstand, her tail swishing with happiness as you answered her call.

“You silly kitty, what do you want so early in the morning?” You questioned her, and received another chirp as a response.

You always found it fascinating that the small feline was actually the key to the hotel, created by Lucifer’s magic as a gift to Charlie when she took over the place.

You could feel it, even now, that warm crackle of energy as it flowed off KeeKee’s fur. It was faint, but so familiar. If you buried her face in her fur far enough, you could even smell traces of his scent.

As you and Lucifer grew closer, so did KeeKee. She had started following around the hotel, always a few steps behind as you traveled the halls. This morning routine of hers wasn’t new either. Before, you’d open your door and find her sprawled out on the ground on her back, her belly exposed as she greeted you.

You started leaving your door cracked after that, allowing her to enter whenever she pleased. She’d make her bed on the same cushion Lucifer was so fond of while you painted, and drift into sleep.

Sometimes, you’d use her for practice sketches. Although you could only do so while she dreamed, as she was not as good at sitting still as Lucifer was.

It was almost as if she sensed the connection between the two of you, mirroring your bond with her own loyalty. With a soft smile, you reached out to pet KeeKee, feeling the comforting vibrations of her purrs resonating through your fingertips.

Rising from the bed, you made your way into the small bathroom. Twisting the sink handle, you let the fountain of water flow into the drain as it is heated.

Your eyes landed on the object next to the faucet, and you smiled unconsciously as you picked up the yellow rubber ducky.

“Your new soap dispenser,” Lucifer had stated one evening, “Easily compactible to take it on the go and.. with the scent of apple pie.”

He demonstrated by softly squeezing the sides of the toy, and a small glob of soap left its mouth and landed into the palm of his hand.

You had taken it from him and lifted it to your nose, inhaling a deep breath.

“Delectable.” You teased, before placing it on the table beside you.

After his little performance at the art studio, Lucifer’s affection towards you grew bolder by the day. He often arrived at your room with a gift or two, even more than his silly little ducks.

Once, he brought you a small violin, the color pure angelic white with golden strings. You had stared at it in awe when he set it on the table.

“It’s white for you to paint,” Lucifer had explained, “Whatever little fantastical ideas you have to cover this instrument with, I just know it’ll be amazing.”

You had blushed, before letting your fingers glide across its smooth surface. Tracing its frame, memorizing its shape.

“I was going to get you a fiddle, like my own. But, I believe this best suits the musical pieces you are so familiar with.”

You sat across from each other at the dining table in your room, arms resting lazily on its surface as you sipped from your glass of Spiced Apple Wine.

That was another gift he had brought you. Claiming he only enjoyed the taste of fine-aged wine from his personal cellar. You had gotten used to its slightly sour taste by now, but you were glad for that slight pinch on your tongue. It kept you from ogling Lucifer for too long.

The only light emanating from your room was the candles placed around you, their flames dancing, casting shadows across the walls. The soft ting of piano keys thrummed in the air, flowing from a small brown radio on your dresser.

Not too long ago, Alastor had given it to you for your personal use. A very rare gift from a demon like him. You had just assumed it was his way of getting you on his side, your unease of him must’ve been apparent enough.

Your years of attempted swindling by potential buyers for your pieces created a sixth sense, the ability to smell when someone’s words didn’t echo their intentions.

Even though you had no animosity towards him, and spoke to him frequently enough that you did not feel any kind of negative intentions from him, his mysterious past and psychopathic tendencies struck you as odd. His presence was dark and cold.

Nothing like Lucifer’s, who’s aura was so warm and energetic you could get drunk off of it.

Alastor’s? That would sober you up in an instant.

Why didn’t you feel the same about Lucifer? After all, he had the same charm that swooped those around him off their feet.

‘His ability to love,’ you concluded in your head, ‘that was why.’

He showed deep care for the people close to him, while Alastor always held people at arms-length. Literally and figuratively.

Your personal feelings didn’t mean you weren’t going to use the radio, so whenever you’d hear Lucifer nearing your room, you’d switch it to polka. Learning by now that was one of his favorite genres. It played in the background as you discussed the violin.

“I think it’s best if you taught me how to play, I might have some knowledge on musical history, but that doesn’t mean I know anything about the instruments themselves.” You had conceded.

He shook his head at that, “Nonsense. If there is anyone I know that could pick up skills like this quickly, it would be you.”

“What makes you think that?” You had laughed.

“Because, you’re amazing. Talented, with passion that could take on the world. You and my daughter have more in common than you think. A drive that I wish I had.”

That had stopped your train of thought, your cheeks heating once more. Most times you would try to brush off his comments, and continue on to the next subject, even if those words made it hard for you to fall asleep that same night.

But this time, you let his words linger in the air between you. The faint glow from the candles illuminating his face, his angelic features intensifying.

It was your turn to make a move, you couldn’t let him have all the fun.

Slowly, your hand traveled across the table, until your fingers grazed his own. Lucifer never pulled back, instead, he accepted your advance. Lacing his fingers with your own.

The two of you didn’t speak, you didn’t need to. The day could be filled with laughter and quick-wits. But, the night? That belonged to your silent bouts of affection.

Just two pairs of eyes staring out through the large open bay windows, the flickering lights from the city your own little TV.

What was he thinking about? You had wondered. You were aware of the divorce of his wife years ago, and the fracture of his family still weighed on him. Even if his relationship with Charlie was improving the day. Did he blame himself for his family splitting?

You had never pried him on such things, there was no reason to bring him more pain. He’d open up about it when he was ready, he always did.

Was that why he was slow to actually ask for your kindness? Your care?

Your love?

He was a showman, with a drive to impress strangers around him, to win them over with his charm and flare. But you weren’t a stranger, not anymore.

There was this tiny parasite that gnawed at the back of your mind, whispering such horrid things of him leaving you if you made the first move.

‘His pride is too great to let him be swooned completely by a lower demon,’ it hissed, ‘He just wants something casual, nothing truly real,’

Was that true? Would he reject you and move on? Surely, there were much stronger, much smarter demons than you in Hell that he could choose.

Maybe, you’d just have to grow a backbone and ask him.

‘Soon’, you promised.

The calming scent that wafted from the candles around the room pulled you away from such thoughts. Instead, you used your free hand to lift the wine glass to your lips, downing the remaining liquor. Your body blooming with warmth as it traveled down your throat, and your head turning fuzzy with bliss.

A gentle thump as KeeKee landed on the counter pulled you back to reality. You finished washing your face, and placed it into the cool embrace of the small towel in your hands.

Turning away from the sink, you walked back into the main room. KeeKee trailed you as you rummaged through your dresser, plucking out items of clothing as you began to change for the day.

“Come, KeeKee,” You called, clicking your tongue at her as you strided to the doorway of your room.

She responded with a chirp and raced past you, out into the hallway. You watched her scurry down the stairs as you headed for the lobby. You were supposed to finish the season of RuGaul’s Drag Race this morning with Angel Dust, and honestly, it was a pretty good show.

Unfortunately, the raised bump in the carpet right in front of your foot had other plans.

“Fuck!” You hissed as you fell forward, your arms instinctually raising to catch your fall.

You hit the ground with an oomph. Luckily, you caught yourself in time to not face any serious injury. Except the sting of your pride. You lay there defeated for a moment, the ache in your arms subsiding slowly.

“Well, hello down there, my friend!” Came a familiar call, static trickling from their voice.

“Hello, Alastor.” You greeted the Radio Demon with a painful sigh.

“It appears you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a pickle, hm? Let me help you with that.”

Black tendrils gathered around you, they were unnaturally cold and you squirmed against their touch.

They tightened around you and lifted you up, up, and up until the soles of your feet were steady on the ground. They flowed off of you, disappearing like a shadow into Alastor’s form.

“Thank you, Alastor. That was very kind of you,” you spoke as you brushed dust off your clothes. You’d need to talk to Nifty about coming to your side of the building more often to clean.

“It was no problem, my friend. I could not just sit by and allow you to take such an attitude from that silly carpet.”

Alastor snapped his fingers, and the tiny lump in the carpet that had delivered the tripping blow vanished. Leaving behind a nice, smooth surface.

His head snapped back up to you, that large smile still plastered on his face. You were about to open your mouth again when his gaze landed on something behind you, past the railing.

“Ah, I see you have finished another one of your paintings! What a wonderful piece this is, yes, truly remarkable!”

He walked forward, and placed one hand on the railing. On the opposite side of the room, at eye level to the second floor, was a painting depicting a very large, glittering lake. A tall forest surrounded it, with massive snowy mountains as the backdrop.

Small winged-angels sat near the waters, feasting on grapes and wine as they enjoyed the summer sun. Some stood near white-freckled fawns as they fed them fruits and nuts, their faces lit in joyful smiles.

“Yes, it took me forever. Water is a pain to get perfect. Do you.. think it fits?”

“Of course it does, my dear!” His enthusiastic voice not missing a beat, “I think Charlie choosing you for this job was a marvelous choice! You must have taken much inspiration from some of the classic artists.. Perhaps Edgar Payne?”

A look of surprise crossed your face. He knew about the famous western landscape artist? Alastor didn’t seem like a fine arts kind of man to you.

“I used some of his techniques, yes. I didn’t know you had such knowledge, Alastor.” You responded, a hint of questioning in your tone. Prompting him to speak more about the subject.

Alastor waved his hand in the air in a brushing motion, as if it was no big deal.

“Oh, here and there. When I was alive hosting my radio show I once toured an art gallery for an advertisement. His pieces were on display, and I suppose his work has been imprinted in my mind ever since.”

“That’s very interesting, actually. I shouldn’t be surprised though, you seem to be in favor of many classic mediums.”

“Mm, yes. I just can’t stand the way modern society has seemed to falter from its most creative forms. I’m sure soon they’ll just start paying robots up there to make art for them.”

You doubted that, people using robots to make art? What was the point of it if not created by the human hand?

It was then you caught his eyes darting to something behind you, towards the staircase. Did his eye just twitch?

Alastor’s toothy grin widened further, which you thought couldn’t be possible. Before you could turn around and get a look at whatever had captured his attention, his gaze landed back on you.

He quickly sidled much closer to you, and placed his free hand on your shoulder. Your eyes widened at the touch, he’d never been brazen like this before. Let alone being this close to you.

Suddenly, he let out a loud, boisterous laugh at nothing particular. His head slightly shook from side to side like he just heard the funniest story in his life, which made you lean back slightly at his very odd actions.

“Oh, my dear, you are such a charm. Truly. I always enjoy our little talks about your ideas. You are so very passionate about your work.”

Your eyebrows raised in suspicion at his behavior. What was this man up to?

“We should definitely continue our talks sometime, perhaps, in the comfort of your study?” He questioned, placing his other hand on your shoulder, “Maybe, you could even teach me some of that history you have trapped in your noggin, mmm what was that era called.. the Renaissance?”

Your mouth parted slightly as you contemplated his words. He wanted to learn from you? You had never graced anyone with your teachings other than Lucifer, and you kind of liked it that way.

“Well.. I don’t know if-”

“Ahem.” Came a familiar, male voice from behind the two of you.

Your words caught in your throat. Uh oh.

You watched Alastor’s grin deepen into a knowing smirk. His eyes snapping to the figure behind you, eyebrows raised.

You pivoted, seeing the familiar pale face staring intensely at you, practically into your soul. You tried to smile at him, your teeth clenched painfully as you stood besides Alastor. His hand still on your shoulder.

You tried to speak through your eyes, desperately trying to tell him this was not something you had asked for. You weren’t sure whether he could read it.

Lucifer’s gaze diverted to the hand on your shoulder, and you could feel a crackle of scorching hot energy in the air around you.

“Why, hello there, your majesty.” Alastor greeted him with mock enthusiasm.

“What a surprise to see you here,” Lucifer responded, a slight growl in his voice. He straightened his back, leaning slightly forward on his staff, as though the scene before him was not a bother. He was terrible at hiding it though.

“Indeed. My dear friend and I were just discussing their paintings, aren’t they a wonder?”

“Of course they are.” Lucifer responded.

“We have such good conversations, you know, about their vast knowledge on the subject. It makes me envious really.”

He released your shoulder from his grasp, and you scooted an inch away from him.

“Perhaps, one day, you would care to join us? But I'm sure their line of work isn’t something you are interested in, hm?” Alastor’s words left his lips, and Lucifer’s teeth bared at that.

Alastor’s smile intensified as his own energy filled the room, an invisible dual of power was beginning to emerge between the two demons. It reminded you of what happened when Lucifer had arrived at the hotel for the first time, when they had fought for the position as Charlie’s father figure.

Alastor wasn’t an idiot though, Lucifer could eradicate him at any moment. Was just simply irritating the fallen angel his only motivation?

Was Alastor’s initial conversation with you just to pull the strings of what was happening now? Did he know Lucifer was coming to see you? That sly asshole.

Alastor turned away from Lucifer’s glare, and met your gaze.

“How is that radio doing that I gave you? I hope you’ve been putting it to good use, I was trying my hardest to

think of the perfect gift for you, and I just knew that you would be interested in it.”

“It was.. nice, thank you.. Alastor.” You responded, afraid what would happen if you ignored his question.

“My pleasure, dear friend. We’ve been through thick and thin, you and I. It’s only right I share with you a piece of my.. admiration towards you.”

Admiration?

Lucifer stalked up to the two of you, staring daggers in Alastor’s back. Clearing his throat, he let out a dark chuckle.

“I’m sure your little relationship is over-exaggerated,” He said, his tone passive aggressive, “I’ve hardly seen you in the same room together, let alone have such meaningful conversations.”

“But, of course we do! I was there the first day they walked through those doors. I was the one that welcomed them to their new home, and it was I who furnished their room in the first place. Seeing as barely anything has been changed or moved around, it is safe to say our connection is much deeper than you may think.”

You heard Lucifer growl again. His eyes flickering to a shade of red.

“Well, it’s too bad your gift is useless now.” Lucifer hissed, “They have an instrument of their own, which I have provided them.”

Alastor’s ear twitched at that, and he turned to you in mock fascination.

“Oh, an instrument? Did you know I used to play in a band?” He turned to you, his questions armed with ill intentions, “I would love nothing more than to give you a lesson or two!”

“I am going to teach them, actually.” Lucifer snapped, “I couldn’t imagine the terrible noises that would come from you plucking strings like a tone-deaf banshee.”

Alastor laughed at that before reaching out and grabbing your hand. You had the growing itch to rip it away, but his stare whispered dark things, and you relented. Allowing him to grip your wrist loosely.

“Well, this has been fun, and I would like to continue our talks,” He addressed you, “But I have important business to attend to within the hotel, as your faithful hotelier. Perhaps, later tonight?”

Your smile faltered for a second, giving him a slight glare. You weren't going to let him think you were falling for his games.

“Such a shame you have so much attention on you from so many others, those demons on the streets really look at you with such enamoration. My word, just practically begging for your attention! If only you would share all your ideas and knowledge with just me, you’d know how fantastic of a listener I am.”

“Others?” Lucifer asked incredulously.

Alastor ignored him, instead, he did something that you never expected.

He gingerly pulled your hand closer to his face, before leaning down slightly and placing a quick peck to your knuckles. You gasped, placing a hand over your mouth to cease it quickly.

It was meaningless, you could tell. An act to simply further spur on Lucifer’s rage.

“Why you pompous little fucking-!” Lucifer roared, but was cut off by Alastor’s maniacal fit of giggles.

Suddenly, the red demon evaporated into a large green cloud of smoke. A gust of freezing wind rushed you as he vanished. Behind you, Lucifer’s large hat was carried with the gust of wind, and he was left practically frothing at the mouth, his hair disheveled from the wind. His eyes still a dark sickly-red.

You strode up to him, placing a hand on his arm. Trying to get him to look at you.

“I promise you, we were not talking genuinely just then, Lucifer.”

“Do you have conversations with that creep when i’m not around? Have you been telling him the same things you’ve shared with me?”

You rolled your eyes, letting out a breath of hot air.

“Don’t be ridiculous, he’s just getting under your skin. I’ve barely spoken with him.”

“What did he mean by ‘others’? You have suitors that i’m not aware of?”

You leaned back, confusion spreading across your face. Was Lucifer.. jealous? Was the thought of other demons trying to get intimate with you.. bothering him?

“What? Well, I don’t know, maybe. It’s not like I-”

“It’s me who knows almost everything about you. I’m the King of Hell, what can anyone offer you that I can’t?”

What was this? He’s never spoken a word about courting you, which is why your feelings towards his affection were mixed. But now, he wants to?

“And here I thought I could make it to the overlord meeting in time,” He growled. Before his gaze was renewed with fresh determination.

He grabbed your hand, pulling you closer, and snapped his fingers.

Before you could blink, the area around you melted and transformed into a beautiful restaurant. You were sitting at an oak table, candles lit around you. A wine glass in front of you.

Lucifer materialized at the seat across from you in a very tight, clean black tuxedo with a red bow tie around his neck.

He gave you a playful smirk, before another figure strode to your table. You looked up, and saw.. Lucifer? Again? This time in a classic waiter outfit, an apron tied around his waist. He held a plate of food in one hand, before setting it down before you.

“You’re favorite dish, catered by yours truly.” Waiter Lucifer spoke confidently.

You looked down at the foodstuff on the plate, your mouth watering. It really was your favorite dish. You reached out to grab it, before you were thrusted into darkness again.

Where were you now?!

You were sitting on a very comfortable cushioned chair, and as you whipped your head around, noticed that there were rows and rows of the same kind of chairs.

“What the hell is going on?!” You yelled to the scene, but received no answer.

Placed in them were more.. Lucifers? They all whooped and cheered, clapping at whatever was in front of you. You turned your head, taking in the sight before you.

It was a lit stage. The curtain was closed, so you were unable to see what was on it. Suddenly, the curtain lifted, and there was Lucifer again, he held a Violin, similar to the one he gave you, but this time in pure gold.

He looked at you before gliding the bow across its strings, the echoes of its chords filling the room. You perked, recognizing its tune.

It was ‘Innsbruck, I must leave thee’! The same one he had asked you about when you caught him humming that one time.

Did he learn it… just for you? Your heart fluttered. Was this grandiose display just him trying to prove that he cared about you and your interests?

It continued for a moment longer, the strings on his instrument singing with raw power. It was a beautiful sound, and for a moment you were lost in it. Emotions from your past bubbling inside of you.

And then, he let go of the violin and it began playing on its own. It floated in the air gracefully as its tune continued. He leapt off the stage and landed right in front of your seat. He extended his hand, waiting for you to take it.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of where you would be taken next.

“Luci..” You said, giving him a questioning look.

He only smirked at you, his eyebrows raised playfully. You shook your head, a smile blooming on your face at his theatrics, and laced your fingers with his.

Instead of being thrown into darkness like before, gold flashed around you as he teleported you somewhere distant.

This time, you were on the roof of a very tall building, you shook your head to rid yourself of the dizziness before taking in the sights around you.

You were in Pentagram city, Heaven high above you, it’s white glow helping to light the rooftop like a stage.

Your hand was still gripping his, and he did not pull away. Neither did you.

Suddenly, a tune began once more. Unfamiliar this

time, and you twisted your head to find where it was coming from, but to no avail. It seemed to be emanating from the entire space around you.

Was there a faint musical number playing in the background, or was that just your imagination?

Lucifer pulled you closer, his classic red and white hats by vest clung to his frame. His hat and overcoat nowhere in sight.

“Lucifer, what are you…” You trailed off, right as he opened his mouth and started to.. sing.

With treasures untold and riches divine,

I offer you the world, to make you mine.

His voice was like velvet, that boisterous playful demeanor apparent as he circled you around, you turned with him, never releasing his hand. He continued, his eyes never straying from you as he sang.

I can offer you kingdoms, castles of gold,

Mountains of riches, for you to behold,

Diamonds that shimmer, like stars in the night,

With every breath, with every sigh,

I’ll lavish you with riches, until the end of time.

His singing ceased, and you were rushed back into reality. You looked at him in awe, enamored by that pretty voice of his. It was ethereal, just like God has designed him to be.

You stood there for a second, eyes fixed on Lucifer’s hand as it entwined with yours. Your gaze traveling to those big, beautiful golden eyes that practically begged for your response.

In that moment, as the sun above illuminated his pretty face and his shining hair flowing in the gentle breeze, you realized how much you adored- no, loved this man.

Summoning all of your willpower, you answered. Your lips parted as your tongue began to form words of your own design. You didn’t call up any lyrics from pieces of past design. These words needed to be yours. Needed to say everything you desired and more.

I don’t want your magic,

I don’t want your gold,

I want your eyes on me,

Until we grow old,

The words left your lips, soft and buttery, as your confession rang through the air. You desperately hoped your voice didn’t sound like nails against a chalkboard, that it held some resemblance to his own angelic vocals.

His eyes widened for a moment, before they softened. A sparkle shining in them that wasn’t there before.

A genuine, heart-melting smile crossed his face as he listened to your words flowing from your tongue so gracefully, like water cascading from the Fountain of Youth.

You took his other hand, pulling him backwards, as you danced across the narrow rooftop, like ballerinas, your footsteps synced and graceful.

Suddenly, he turned you towards the edge, your heels mere inches from the ledge of the roof. For a moment, you felt like you’d slip and plunge into the depths, but those eyes of his held you steady in your mind.

Until his wings appeared behind him, beating softly, giving you air as he spun you slightly off the rooftop. A pulse of warm energy hit you, and your legs lifted out from under you. Like you were Jane with your Peter Pan, and his magic fairy dust was going to send you gliding off to Neverland.

For a moment, you felt like you had wings of your own. That feeling of absolute freedom, unchained from the ground as you floated for a moment before Lucifer pulled you back to reality.

Your feet hit the rooftop once more and you were breathlessly aware of your heart beating in your throat. Your gaze snapped back to Lucifer once more, and you felt one of his hands lowering to your hip, the other still entwined with yours.

Lucifer leaned forward, and you with him. Your back curved into an arch as he leaned above you, your lips inches from brushing against each other. You felt like exploding, those butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach threatening to burst.

Both your mouths opened at once, and your words entwined with his as your lips moved once more.

Your caring touch abundantly clear,

It’s all i’ve ever known,

With you my dear,

I surely fear,

My heart will never be my own.

As your song ended, you felt your heart and mind clear instantly as your truth had finally been told. The look of pure adoration in his eyes was enough to have you trembling under his touch.

Lucifer pulled you back onto your feet, his breathing heavy and the feathers on his wings ruffled.

With both hands on your hips, you reached forward and cupped his face. Heat spread across your body as your fingers grazed across the small wisps of hair that curled around his ears.

“Darling, I-”

Before you could let him finish his sentence, you squeezed your eyes shut, and planted your lips against his. He froze for a moment, his breath hitching, before his hands around your waist tightened and he deepened the kiss.

You moved your hands from his face and instead wrapped your arms around his neck, grasping at his shirt collar with hungry desire.

His scent washed over you, and you drank it in with desperation. A sweet, crisp dose of apple cinnamon mixed with faint traces of roses. You thanked Heaven in that moment, for releasing them from their grasp, and right into your arms down here in Hell.

Your knees hit the ground the same time as Lucifer’s, and you felt the soft touch of his wings as they wrapped around you. Blanketing the two of you from the prying eyes of all the realms.

He pressed his face harder into yours as he cupped the small of your back. His teeth grazed the bottom of your lip, and you parted your mouth slightly, locking the two of you together even more intensely.

His lips left yours, and he planted feverish pecks across your cheek all the way to your earlobe. He bit tenderly on it, and you had to squeeze your lips together to stop from whimpering. He continued, trailing down your neck with hungry kisses, before burrowing his face into your shoulder blade.

You felt his teeth graze the artery in your neck, and you gasped, grasping at his hair desperately as pleasure coursed through your veins. His breath hot against your skin, tickling it.

“Fuck,” You moaned, and his response was to push you farther into bliss as he suckled on your neck. Waves of pleasure hit you once more, and you began to sloppily kiss the top of his shoulder, slightly exposed from your roughhousing.

Lucifer tightened his grip around you, pulling you as flush to his body as he could manage. You both sat there on your knees in a mix of breathless gasps and hums of pleasure.

You did not want this moment to end. Finally, the both of you had opened yourselves up to your true feelings. You smiled at the thought, and planted a kiss on his earlobe as he lifted his head slightly from your neck.

Suddenly, the watch on Lucifer’s wrist buzzed violently, and you heard him curse under his breath.

“Is that for your meeting?” Your voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

“Unfortunately,” He grumbled, before switching off the noise. He didn’t move from his position though, and you realized he was going to try and skip out on it.

“You should go.” You spoke, almost a command.

“Why? They’ve been fine without me for this long.”

“You’re the king,” You retorted, meeting his gaze sternly, “Go do your job, i’m not going anywhere.”

His look of distraught at having to depart sent another wave of butterflies into your body. You couldn’t help but smile before giving him another quick peck on the lips.

“Go.”

“Fine.”

You both stood up, and his wings uncurled around your body, disappearing into his back. His fingers still with yours, as he reached down for his hat that lay on the ground beside you. You released his grip and fixed his bow tie. Pulling his overcoat back neatly onto his frame, and adjusting it slightly.

You wiped the sweat off his forehead and smoothed down his hair. Attempting to tidy him up as quickly as you could so he wouldn’t be late. He smiled warmly as you fussed over him.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” You spoke softly, batting your eyelashes at him, “I need a way off this roof.”

He smirked, before grasping his staff and tapping it against the ground.

A flurry of gold wafted around you, and that same energy tickled at the back of your neck just like it did at the art studio. His face blurring from the cascading waves of warm light that wrapped around you.

“See you soon, My Love,” His voice echoed as your eyes shut and you felt that pull of energy. That feeling of floating on thin air hit you again, as you were warped away.

“There you are!” Angel dust threw his arms in the air in exasperation a few feet away from you, as the particles of gold that floated above you disintegrated. You blinked a few times, letting your eyes adjust to the lights in the lobby.

“Where were you this morning? I had to watch the final episode all by myself!”

Shit. That’s right. You placed a hand on your forehead, berating yourself silently for forgetting. Although you weren’t too regretful about missing out on it for Lucifer.

“I’m so sorry, Angel. I just got.. busy, I guess.”

He shrugged, brushing off his slight irritation.

“It’s alright, ain’t nobody hurt from it.”

He was going to turn away, towards the bar where Husk was readying drinks for the two of them, before his gaze narrowed in somewhere on your figure.

“Wait, what the fuck is on your neck?” He asked suddenly, his eyes giving you a questioning stare, as he motioned towards it.

You looked at him confused, before reaching up and running a few fingers down the side of your throat. Your eyes flew wide open in surprise, and your hand cupped your mouth as you felt it. Your cheeks set on fire instantly.

Apparently, as a final gift, Lucifer had left a rather large hickey in the crook of your neck. Both Husk and Angel leaned in to get a better look at it, their eyes widening in surprise.

“That dickhead finally did it, huh?” Husk spoke up, a knowing smirk on his lips as he cleaned glasses behind the bar.

Angel’s eyes lit up in delight, and he squeezed his own cheeks as realization dawned on him.

“Fucking finally! Does that mean you two are a thing now?”

You contemplated for a moment, before meeting Angel’s gaze once more. A smirk growing on your lips.

KeeKee appeared at your feet, rubbing at your ankles in greeting. You gingerly reached down and picked her up. She was so soft to the touch, and you caught the faint scent of Lucifer once more as she nestled into your chest.

“I guess so,” You finally replied once you situated the cat into your arms, “Now if you excuse me, gentleman, I need a breather.”

Angel whistled flirtatiously behind you as you walked away, and you couldn’t help the growing heat that hit your cheeks once more.

——

a/n: let me know your thoughts!! i almost didn’t added the little singing bit but i cracked my knuckles and summoned the lyricist in me to have some fun. I mean, it can’t be Hazbin Hotel without a song right?

tag list: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox

#lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #i’m tired y’all i’m taking a nap #im writing this fic like im getting paid for it 🤣#over 6k words too?!#hazbin hotel

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fanfictionera · 4 months

Text

My Queen (BuckyxReader) Smut

A/N: I have always wanted to write a Sex Pollen fic but every time I tried to write one it didn't feel right. Finally I started writing and the vibes started flowing. I wanted filthy smut but with emotion and feeling and I hope that I achieved that. Either way I am super proud of this and I hope readers enjoy!

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Synopsys: The reader and Bucky are sent on a mission where they are exposed to what is referred to as Sex Pollen. Their feelings for each other are forced to be faced.

Word Count: 6,218

Warnings: Sex Pollon, Friends to Lovers, forced sex (due to drugs), sprinkle of Angst, Bucky, SMUT, SMUT SMUT SMUT. SO LITTLE PLOT.

My Queen

Bucky stood in the back of the Quinjet, checking over his person. It was like a ritual for him, starting from the top he would check every strap and belt, double check each gun and knife blade. His body swayed, compensating for the slight lurch of the Quinjet before it leveled out.

“And we have touched down,” Y/N said from the pilot's seat, with a press of a button her chair spun around. She came up behind Bucky gently tugging on his back harness. The back of the Quinjet dropped down, revealing several structures in a clearing, surrounded by trees. They began to make their way to the larger building in the center. The clearing was shrouded in a dark gray filter as the misty fog creeped its way through the trees, under a sky blanketed by cloud cover, reclaimed by nature. A scan showed no signs of human life, which was little in the way of relief.

They silently approached the front door before stepping into the building. A home. The remnants of one anyway. They entered the kitchen, with a table still made. Flowers in a porcelain milk jug left dead, wilted and dried in the center. A plate sat next to a folded newspaper. Y/N could feel the shift in the air as soon as they walked in. The weight of the secrets of the house, hidden behind the semblance of a quiet life, mixed with the pure evil that seeped from its walls in tendrils made Y/N uneasy.

They progressed through the first and second level of the home. Although every surface was covered in a thick layer of dust each room sat pristine, frozen in time as if the owner just ceased to exist. One of many of Hydra’s calling cards.

They made their way back outside and to the side of the house. Y/N turned scanning the tree line as Bucky yanked and cleared away brush that covered the storm doors nestled against the house. Nature revealed the chained and padlocked metal doors.

Bucky pulled the chain, breaking it in his metal hands. The parts slipped through his fingers like sand. The doors opened with a gut dropping creek revealing a set of stairs leading down into a dirt floor cellar.

“Ladies First.” He waved his hand as he motioned his hand forward, his eyes scanning behind Y/N.

She walked forward, “What a gentleman.”

The cellar was packed hard, the air was stale and stagnant. The wooden shelves that lined the stone wall held glass jars full of canned food.

Bucky walked to the corner, moving a basket out of the way, revealing a hatch.

The ladder led down to a concrete room, with the only doorway being a gated elevator shaft. An electrical box was mounted on the wall. Bucky opened it and began to check it over before pulling the large handle down. It made a large metallic thunk as Bucky forced the handle down. A soft wiring noise began to buzz.

Bucky pulled the metal gate to the side, ushering Y/N into the car, he closed the gate after he stepped on and reached for the hand crank on the side. Slowly the metal gears began to move and creak as the elevator descended. “Why does every Hydra base have a creepy elevator?” Y/N asked as she took in the rust-streaked walls of the shaft illuminated by dingy yellowing lights that flickered as they warmed up.

“Günter did suggest rainbows and butterflies, but as you can see, he was outvoted.” Y/N tried to hide her smile as she rolled her eyes.

The elevator came to a stop as it reached the bottom of the shaft, pulling the gate aside again, they found themselves in a storm of destruction “What is this place?”

“It's a lab, was a lab.” Bucky looked around, “I don't believe I was ever here, but it's where they developed all kinds of fun.”

They began to clear the room, flashlight in hand. Tables sat disheveled and tipped over, their contents scattered. Papers littered every surface like confetti. Various medical equipment and hardware mixed and mingled with the papers, while every box of a computer was shattered or broken. As if someone punched every screen. Several lighting fixtures hung from the ceiling, attached by a few wires, while others found their way to the floor. Bucky held a dangling light to the side, letting Y/N walk through before following.

She scanned the room as she took another step, a loud popping crunch noise made her jump, she looked down, lifting her foot, to see the glass shards sprayed across the floor.

Bucky laughed as he pushed past her. “You’ve been playing to many zombie games,”

“Shut up.” She walked behind him.

Bucky laughed again as he held his arms out, doing his best zombie impression, ‘Brainsss.” He turned to grab her head. “No brainsssss”

Y/N shoved him playfully, "Can we just do this and get the hell out of here?" Bucky chuckled as he clicked on his flashlight and continued sweeping the lab with a smug smile on his face. Y/N wasn't going to lie, nothing about this place made her feel good. She wasn't sure if it was because of its history or its current state, either way she was very much looking forward to leaving.

As they continued into the next room, Y/N eyes came to rest on Bucky’s back. They trailed across his harness, how it spanned across his wide shoulders. The dim lights still highlighted the muscular lines built into the metal of his arm. Bucky paused for a moment, pivoting on his heel to double check a dark corner. His face was concentrated, eyes trained. She couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have them trained on her.

She shook her head, focus, she mouthed to herself. With the room cleared they were moving forward again; her eyes came to the back of his head and down his back. They slowly trailed down to his ass, framed perfectly in his tactical pants, the seams accentuating his curve.

Suddenly Bucky stopped, looking up at a mess of chains, “Let’s see what's behind door number one.” He put his flashlight between his teeth as he began to roll his sleeve up his flesh arm.

Y/N watched, entranced by the simple action, she glanced up to see Bucky watching her. He smiled around the flashlight; he reached up with this metal hand taking the source of light. He took several steps toward her before bringing his hand up to her jaw.

“That’s what does it for you?” he swiped his thumb against her bottom lip before swiping his thumb down, pulling her lip with it. “Is it my arm?”

She nodded.

“Or is it my fingers?” Her eyes dilated as Bucky chuckled leaning forward, “Do you want my fingers?” She could feel his breath against her skin as he walked behind her, his flesh hand reaching around, grasping the toggle of her zipper. She could hear each tooth unzip as he pulled the zipper down its full length. The coolness of the metal left a tingling sensation as he followed in the zipper wake, his palm slid down her stomach, closer to her aching core. Her breathing became heavy as her head began to spin.

“Hey,” Bucky’s voice sounded firm, the look of concern evident “Are you okay?”

The world came crashing back in a blink of her eye. Her eyes snapped open to find Bucky standing in front of her, still messing with the chains. She shook her head trying to shake off the ghost feeling of his touch. Y/N took a deep breath, her brow began to pull together, "Do you smell that?” She takes another deep breath through her nose, “It's almost sweet, floral, its faint.”

Bucky looked at her puzzled, the air around them smelled musty and old. Then the realization hit him. "Shit.” With the chains forgotten, Bucky grabbed her arm and pulled her back down where they came, “Where is that vile you stepped on?”

His touch was distracting, “Over, over there, I think?" He let go of her, "What's going on?” Y/N asked as Bucky began searching the ground.

He turned still looking, “Just, please, we need to find it.”

She walked back over a row and kicked a pile of papers, a cracked vile rolled out, “It's right here.” The end was still intact, the label holding the shards together.

Copulation Stimulant

Y/N’s eyes read over the label, “Is this?” She looked back down again hoping she read it wrong, “This is, oh my god--no-no-no-no.” She dropped the vile again, the realization setting in, her hands coming to her face as she rambled, “I can't do this, this has to be some cruel joke. Yeah? It’s labeled wrong? I can’t actually fuck my best friend…I can't--”

11-197020-43

“Oh, come on now,” As Y/N began to spiral Bucky knelt down to confirm his suspicion, "Best Friend!?" He tried to joke, to keep Y/N with him. "Nat might fight me for that title."

"Stop. I'm serious. You don't understand," She began shaking slightly, overwhelmed as the tears began to fall down her cheek.

Bucky's smug smile dropped from his face as he took in Y/N’s state, his eyebrows knitted together.

Y/N's chest tightened as she looked up at him. “I can’t fuck my best friend because I’m in love with my best friend."

"Sweetheart" The word came out of Bucky’s mouth like an exhale as he took in her words.

“Oh my god, am I going to fuck my best friend, who I’m in love with, for the first time in a dingy old Hydra base." Y/N's mind was moving a million miles a second. A heat began to spread from her core, she took a deep breath.

“Come on,” Bucky gently grabbed her arm, "Not here, let's get back to the Quinjet, okay?”

Y/N shook her head as she let Bucky lead her out of the bunker. She could feel the heat spreading throughout her body, like water slowly trickling down through the soil, saturating each grain as it was pulled down by gravity. It felt invasive.

The Quinjet bay door began to close as Bucky climbed into the pilot's chair. Y/N sat in the back, her breath becoming heavy. "I'm getting really hot."

“Like little pin pricks of heat all over your skin?" The Quinjet shook slightly as it rose into the sky.

"Yeah-h" Y/N said as a sheen of sweat began to cover her face.

"It's hitting you faster." He quickly flipped some switches before getting up out of the chair, he grabbed a med kit duffle bag out of the closet before kneeling in front of her.

Y/N's brow slowly pulled together, "Why?"

"It's designed for super soldiers." Bucky began as he pulled out and cracked a jelly ice pack, instantly making it cold before placing it on her neck. "Which means it's stronger for you."

Y/N felt the sting of the cold radiate, "Okay, okay…okay. What's going to happen?" Her head swirled as she placed her hand over his that held the ice pack, grounding herself. “Be honest.”

Bucky took a deep breath, unable to pull his gaze from her pleading one. "Your adrenaline will slowly rise, until your heart feels like it's going to burst and every cell in your body is vibrating." He flipped the ice pack to the other side of her neck. "It's going to alter chemicals in your brain, driving up your sex drive and arousal." His chest began to heave as he began to feel the effects. “At the same time, it will lower your inhibitions and block all sense of self control.”

Y/N took a deep breath through her nose. "And sex is the only way?"

"No, we can ride this out." Bucky said as he also breathed deep. "It will be torture, an ache of a pain that will thunder through your existence. Every second you resist will feel like one second closer to death, but it won't kill you."

Y/N fought through another wave of heat before responding, "I don't know what to do. It's getting hard to think."

"Yeah." Bucky knew what was to come. How many hours they would have to endure if they waited it out. He dropped the ice pack, now warm, before bringing his hands up to the sides of Y/N's face, pulling her focus back. "Listen to me," He took a moment, “Never in a million years would I have wanted this to be our first time." He let out another grunt as he fought another wave, a smirk appeared through it. "I planned on asking you out, on a real date, before I led you to my bed. To treat you like a queen. My queen.” Tears threatened the corners of Y/N's eyes. Her heart was beating in her ears, and it felt like years as they leaned forward, their foreheads resting against each other. “If we do this now, it won't be like that, you need to know once I start, I will not be able to stop. You will not be able to stop."

Her fingers came up dragging down the edge of his scruff-covered jaw line. “I understand. I trust you, please, I trust you.”

The moment his lips touched hers everything stopped. Bucky physically felt Y/N's body relax as her lips began to move against his. She snaked her hands up his chest and behind his neck before pulling herself off the back of the chair and as close to him as she could.

Y/N got lost in the intense high created, everything slowed down and hazed over. A dull, mind numbing, wave of emotions swirled in her brain as all sense of time was lost till eventually it wound itself into a ball and exploded against the back of her eyelids. The heat began to fade, leaving a chill across her skin. Her head felt empty and tired. Mentally she couldn't string two coherent thoughts together. Her body felt loose, and her eyes watered as a tear slid down.

"Hey, it's over." Bucky was catching his breath as he held her head in his hand, looking into her eyes, "it's over," her gaze was distant.

"Shit." Bucky held onto her, held her close as he began rummaging through the duffle bag, "Come on, there you are." Bucky returned to Y/N, "Y/N, doll, I need you to take this. It will help, can you do that?"

Y/N Glanced down at the small syringe in his hand, "What is it?" The words slurred and tired.

"It will let you sleep till we get back and Bruce can help." Bucky replied softly.

The tears began to stream down her face, "I'm feeling everything. At once."

“I know. It’s the drug, a side effect.” Bucky took her hand, “Sleep will help.”

“Okay,” Y/N shook her head as she sniffled. Within moments of the liquid entering her blood stream, Y/N's eyes became heavy, and her body relaxed as she drifted off. Bucky gently maneuvered her, placing her on her side across several seats. He fixed her suit, now ripped wide open from navel down to her exposed thighs, her breasts out on display. He pulled the sides of the fabric, covering her the best he could before he grabbed one of the packs of the on-board pillows and blankets, ripping it out of its packaging. He positioned the small pillow under her head and draped the blanket over her body before cleaning himself up and making his way to the cockpit.

Bucky listened and waited for her to fall into a deep sleep before grabbing the headset. "Friday, please connect me with Steve and Bruce."

"Right away," Friday responded as two small transparent screens appeared in front of Bucky's face.

Steve's face was scrunched as he slowly woke up, "Hey, what time is it?"

"Two." Bruce replied as he did a double take, pulling on his glasses, "In the morning."

"There's been a situation," Bucky's voice was low, Steve's attention was immediately caught, and he finally took in Bucky's appearance, "We came into contact…with a substance," Bucky looked back again making sure Y/N was still out, "It was developed by Hydra for their breeding program, they called it copulation stimulant, but everyone referred to it as sex pollen." As the Quinet silently made the trek back to the compound, Bucky filled them in.

Bucky tossed and turned in bed, he rolled over, sheets tangled around his legs and stared up at the ceiling. Taking a deep breath he reached over for his phone, the screen turned on showing it was only mid-morning.

He rubbed his face before kicking his sheets off and sitting up on the edge of the bed. He stared down at his floor, his mind taking over sucking him back into that moment. Flashes of Y/N's face, filled with fear, overwhelmed with emotions and emptiness played on repeat.

He blinked away the images as he made his way out of his room. Bucky walked down the hall towards Steve's room.

Steve sat at his table; papers strewn about as he caught up on his paperwork. He heard the knock before Bucky walked in.

"How are you feelin'?" Steve asked as Bucky slumped into a chair, aimlessly picking up a piece of paper, setting it back down, not interested.

"How is she?" Is all Bucky asked.

Steve pushed a tablet towards him, "Medically speaking, she's okay, nothing more than a few bruises."

Bucky looked down at the screen, a mission report, currently on the recorded incidents page. His eyes instantly skimmed and settled on Y/N's list of injuries before swiping through the rest of the report.

"I decided not to include the details." Steve continued as Bucky sat the tablet down with an exhale. Steve slowly set down the pen as he leaned back in his chair slightly. "Buck, how are you?"

"Angry." Bucky shook his head. "For me to go through it again, fine. But not her."

"Did Hydra use this stuff often?" Steve's brow pulled up softly.

Bucky's lips flashed a sad smile with a huff of a laugh, "It cycled through. They called it a compliance tool." He looked at his friend, "Sometimes they would call it a reward."

"Jesus." Steve let out under his breath.

“They had an endless supply of compliance tools and rewards.” Bucky shrugged slightly, "I'm okay Steve, honestly.”

"I was going to go check on her in a bit.” Steve leaned forward and picked up his pen again as he glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Bruce gave her something to help her sleep more, rest is probably the best for her right now, so she probably won't be stirring for another hour or two." Bucky nodded his head slightly as Steve spoke.

Steve watched as Bucky began to slip back into his thoughts. "Hey," His voice pulled Bucky's eyes to him. "You guys will be dancing around each other again soon enough."

"I told her." Bucky's confession came out softly. "How I feel, right before I railed her brains out in a fit of uncontrollable horny rage."

“I’m sorry, what?” Steve sat staring at his friend, “You thought, that after being exposed to a chemical weapon used to sexually exploit their victims, yeah this is a good time to confess my feelings to the woman I’ve been absolutely obsessed with since the first day I saw her?”

"Yup," Bucky popped the p, "In my defense she confessed first.”

“Unbelievable,” Steve pinched, “Why are you two like this?”

“In love? Or Insane?” Bucky asked back with a shrug,

Steve crossed his arms as he leaned back, “Go talk to her you jerk."

…

Y/N’s room was dark, every curtain pulled tight and not a single light was on. She had woken up several times only to roll over and fall back asleep, not wanting or ready to face the world yet. She lay on her belly, letting herself lay there, her head spiraling with thoughts. She grabbed for her phone, the brightness from the screen making her recoil, it was already close to two in the afternoon. She rolled back over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.

“What's wrong with me?” She asked quietly to herself.

She never wanted to experience sex pollen again, it scared her to her core to have her own free will taken away. Her heartbeat picked up as she thought about it, a panic slowly bubbling. She took a deep breath, “We can ride this out.” His words echoed in her head. “I wanted to take you out on a date. Treat you like a queen. My queen.” Her heart stuttered a moment as she took another deep breath.

A knock at her door drew her attention. Slowly she rose from her bed, just as she approached the door another soft knock came. She reached for the handle and opened it to find Bucky standing with a paper bag in hand.

She stared at him, her words stuck in her throat, “Team ordered out, I got your favorite.” Bucky held the paper bag up. “I, um, I wanted to check in and.." He paused as he shrugged.

Y/N could see the anxiety and pain behind his eyes. She stepped closer to him, her hands coming to the sides of his torso and sliding back, as she hugged him.

As if on que Y/N stomach growled and she let out a small laugh. She pulled back, taking the bag from Bucky. “Thank you, I don't think I ate anything in the med bay when we got back.” She turned into the room, “Wanna come in?"

As Y/N walked back in, she flicked on a few lamps, creating a soft glow. Bucky closed the door behind him, unsure of what to do. Her desk was sitting just far away to be awkward but the only other place to sit would be her bed, somewhere he had never thought twice about before as he would just sit down or jump in. Now? He was acutely aware of his actions, and it created a ball of anxiety in the pit of his stomach.

“Bucky, you're welcome to sit on my bed.” Y/N noticed his hesitation.

He shrugged. “I didn't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You aren't” Y/N said as she pulled a plate down from a cabinet in her Kitchenette.

Bucky paused for a moment before taking a deep breath, "What's going through your head?" Y/N stopped what she was doing, food forgotten as he continued. "Be honest."

Y/N turned, leaning against the counter, to face him. She crossed her arms as she took a moment to bring her words forward, "Did you mean what you said?" her question was soft and quiet. "Your queen." She blinked her gaze up to his.

Bucky let out a huff of a laugh, the corner of his mouth pulling up, “I remember the day you arrived at the compound.” He continued. “That morning Steve and I were set to leave to go on a recon mission. We were going back to the Siberian Hydra base; I hadn't been back since the airport incident. I was an absolute mess leading up to it.” Bucky looked down at his hands as he absentmindedly followed the lines and seams of his metal finger with this flesh. “I probably shouldn't have gone.” He paused again. “I had come so far, the words out of my head, a family around me and I had finally thought I found peace. Yet the moment I stepped back into that room, I looked upon that pit with that monstrosity of a machine still sitting there. I lost it. It instantly triggered a spiral of anger and I felt pushed right back down to my lowest existence.” Bucky kept his eyes trained on the floor. “Steve watched as I destroyed the machine, before helping me calm down. We got the answers we needed, well Steve got the answers we needed. When we got back, I was so far stuck in my head, but then I heard this laughter, it was light and contagious.” Bucky looked up at Y/N who was giving him her full attention. “Your laughter.”

“I followed that sound, until I saw you. Sitting at the counter, a smile on your face and I swear I had never seen anything more beautiful in my life. For the first time since I could remember I could feel this spark of a flame ignite inside of me.” Bucky continued. “This spark that created light and hope and feeling. It only grew. Day after day. It grew with your kindness and confidence. Your strength and your intelligence. That day you took Steve down, he played it off, but I knew that you had genuinely taken him by surprise, I could see it in his eyes. So, I let myself fall in love, I let that light grow into a raging blaze. Until I found myself trying to muster up the courage to tell you while simultaneously trying not to take you where you stood. Ask me again, ask me if I meant what I said.”

Tears were building up in Y/N’s eyes, “Did you mean it?”

"Every word." There was no hesitation in his response as he didn't look away. "I would worship every inch of your mind and body, if you'd let me."

The world began to fade away as Y/N's heart began to beat faster. Bucky's words swirled in her head as she tried to comprehend their meaning as if she couldn't believe them. Bucky sat patiently watching as Y/N slowly walked up to him. Her gaze uncertain, he could feel the tension in the air, as the line they both were hesitant to cross was quickly approaching.

Y/N tentatively stepped between his legs. She could feel the tug of war between her anxiety and adrenaline as she reached to touch his face. She moved her thumb across his jaw, Bucky could see her mind taking off.

He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, "Look at me." Y/N stood quiet for a moment as she took in his unwavering gaze. "What do you need?”

Y/N took a deep breath, "To be your queen.”

He gently pulled her closer. His lips pressed against hers, a tingling sensation ran through her body. Y/N felt Bucky’s hands gently slide down to the crook of her knees. He pulled her up onto his lap, sliding his hands over her thighs following the curve of her ass, before pulling her flush as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against hers with a gentle urgency as they began to get lost in each other. In that moment, nothing else mattered - no worries or fears, no past or future. There was only the heat of the moment, the electricity between them.

Y/N let her fingers sink back into his hair, tugging slightly, as a low moan tumbled from Bucky’s mouth. “I need more.” Y/N said as Bucky kissed down to the nape of her neck.

He slid his hands up under the hem on her shirt, letting them slowly trail up her sides. Her chest heaved as his thumbs ghosted the underside of her breasts.

She pulled herself off him, sliding herself back to stand between his legs again, slowly she pulled her shirt up and over her head. He reached up and pulled his own shirt over his head, discarding it. He leaned back, picking up his hips as he pulled his pants down, kicking them off. His length sprung up to full attention and Y/N’s eyes dilated. She stood back admiring Bucky, taking in his sheer size, she bit her lip as her core began to pulse.

“Come here,” Bucky’s words pulled her in like a lure.

As she climbed back on his lap her hands came to the side of his face and pulled him into her lips. A breathy sigh of a moan escaped Y/N. She lifted herself up on her knees, pushing him slightly back to get to the right angle. She could feel his tip resting at her entrance.

Bucky nudged her nose with his, getting her to look at him. She held eye contact as she slowly slid down, feeling herself stretch around him until she bottomed out. A broken gasp fell from Y/N as the feeling of fullness made her body shutter, Bucky’s stomach twitched in response. She slowly began to roll her hips. His hands squeezed her thighs as he let out a swallowed moan. Her pace quickened until her hips began to fall out of rhythm as she desperately chased her release.

"That's it sweetheart," His words of encouragement doused in an aroused tone. He felt her sides flutter. He could feel her pressing down on him. He kissed the edge of her jaw as his other hand cupped the back of her head before slowly sliding his lips down her neck. Grazing over her nipples. Another flutter. Her hand slid up into his hair and gently pulled him closer, pressing her nipple to his lips. The way she took what she wanted made him feral. "Fuck" Bucky whispered. The sound was low and guttural, skittering over her skin like wildfire.

With every heavy breath a moan escaped. With the last roll of her hips her orgasm exploded through her. Y/N's let out a choked moan as her knees clenched together on either side of Bucky. She felt his metal fingers splayed across her back and his flesh held onto her waist.

Still fully seated, She let her head fall onto his shoulder as she attempted to catch her breath. Bucky pressed his lips to the other side of her neck before tipping her head back up to see her face. She felt like she was floating in euphoria.

"Feeling good?" Bucky's hand cradled her head.

A smile spread on her face as she nodded into his hand. "I need more."

Bucky pulled her face to his, guiding her to his lips. Kissing her slowly as he reached his hands behind her, sliding them down her back. He began kissing down her neck and chest as she leaned back slightly. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, feeling Y/N pulse around his sheathed member. He let it fall from his mouth watching the soft skin bounce slightly before latching on again. Y/N squirmed, grinding down, desperate for any movement.

Bucky gripped her hips and pressed her down further as he worshipped her chest. "James," His name came out as a broken whine.

"Say that again." Bucky instructed, "Say my name."

"Ja-ahhhh-mes" He sucked her nipple again as she spoke.

He smirked slightly as he slid his hands under her ass and stood up, Y/N held on as Bucky turned them around and dropped her on the bed. Y/N rubbed her thighs together from the loss of friction. Bucky watched for a moment before Y/N let her legs fall open. Splayed fully open for him, Bucky instantly crawled over, his breath against her sex making her shutter. His lips trailed kisses up her stomach.

“How many nights have you imagined me like this?” A low chuckle came from Bucky, “Not just nights, and not just this.” He sucked her nipple between his teeth, making her gasp, before he soothed the shock away with his tongue. Y/N’s fingers ghosted over his hairline as she slid them back into his hair, he looked up at her and his eyes darkened as he sunk down and ran his tongue flat against her core.

Her fingers curled, pulling his hair as her back arched off the bed. Electricity buzzed and exploded up over her body. His hands gripped her hips, keeping her from going too far.

Y/N fell further into bliss as Bucky explored her folds with his tongue. Soft moans spilled between her breaths. She gasped as he slowly inserted a finger, moving it in and out, then two, he felt her walls constrict as he slowly moved and curled his fingers. Y/N began to rock her hips against his face. His lips captured her clit sucking softly before pulling back, letting it fall from his lips. Y/N’s mouth fell open as the filthiest moan fell from her lips.

He began rubbing his lips and tongue against her in a smooth pattern that felt like a love letter. Her hands gripped his, slipping back to his wrists as she writhed with him, completely letting him guide her over the edge.

A choked moan came as Y/N’s legs squeezed Bucky’s head. She involuntarily curled up. Bucky wiped his mouth as he sat back on his knees, bringing his fingers up, sucking them clean.

He reached down and grasped her thighs, pulling them up and over his. He leaned back down, letting his hands slide up her torso, up and under her breasts, as his lips found hers once more.

Y/N could feel his tip at her entrance, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

She clung to his shoulders, nails dragging across his skin as he slowly pushed himself to his base. She felt the stretch as Bucky began to roll his hips, slowly dragging himself in and out. He began to pick up his pace, to read her body and follow her needs. Y/N hand snaked back around Bucky’s neck, as he sat back up on his knees, she clung to him as he continued his relentless pace. Y/N gripped onto the back of his neck with one hand as she found his knee with her other hand, propping herself up. There was no need however, as Bucky held her up, with his metal hand firmly on her ass and his flesh arm wrapped around the small of her back. He watched as her eyes rolled back into her head, his lips catch and dragged up her neck before sucking on her pulse.

Y/N’s body trembled as she fought to hold back, selfishly wanting more yet not knowing if she could take it.

She felt her core wound as tight as it would go, unable to hold on to it any longer, she let go. Her body shuttered and Bucky could feel her orgasm pulse around him, squeeze him. He continued, fucking her through, dragging her out as far as he could. He was close and couldn't take it anymore. He let Y/N fall back onto the bed, as he pulled out and finished on her stomach.

Their breathing was heavy as Bucky leaned over once more, bringing his hand up to Y/N face, her eyes glossed over in euphoria. “Are you okay?’

“Yeah,” She shook her head as she let out a sigh, “More than,”

A smile spread across Bucky’s face as he kissed her, “I am going to go get the shower ready for you, is that okay?”

Y/N Shook her head again before gently pressing her lips to his. “I need to lay here for a moment.”

“You just lay here and look pretty,” Bucky pulled himself off the bed.

Bucky walked into the bathroom, turning the water on to let it warm up. He quickly washed himself and cleaned up before setting up the bathroom for Y/N. He pulled a fresh towel out, placing it in the warmer next to the shower. A purchase that at first, he thought was ridiculous but has since rescinded that opinion.

He heard Y/N soft pitter pats as she walked in, the steam beginning to form and build. “All set, towel is in the warmer.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said as she made her way to the shower.

“Don't be too long, your food will get cold.” Bucky kissed her forehead before he left Y/N to clean up as he went back out and continued to reheat the food, he had gotten for her. While the microwave hummed, he stripped the bed and stretched new sheets from corner to corner. Laid out the blankets and pulled them back slightly ready for Y/N to crawl in.

He pulled down another plate for himself before playing up the food. Just as he finished cleaning up Y/N walked out. “Smells good.” She came up to Bucky’s side, wrapping a hand around his arm, leaning against his shoulder. “I am so hungry,” a laugh escaped Y/N, her head moved slightly as Bucky moved his arm. “Go eat, I’ll be right there with some water.”

“Thank you,” Y/N grabbed the plate and took a deep smell through her nose and smiled. “You really did get my favorite.” She said as she settled in on the bed and took a bite.

Bucky sat a cup of water down on her side table before crawling in to join her, “I know. I know all your favorites.”

“Oh?” Y/N asked as she took another bite.

“And I have the rest of the night to figure out the ones I don't know.” A blush spread across Y/N’s cheeks.

“I am looking forward to it.” She smiled as she glanced over at Bucky. “I could get use to this queen shit.”

“Oh, you just wait Doll,” Bucky replied. “I am just getting started.”

-End-

#bucky barnes x reader #buckyxreader #bucky #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #marvel fic #marvel #mcu #steve rogers #sex pollen #smut

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lxkeee · 4 months

Text

END GAME

PART ONE

pairing: lucifer x fallen angel! fem! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: fluff

warnings: no warnings yet.

notes: very feral for this man and this is multishot fic and would be writing a smut for this. Reader is close to his age (probably a hundred years younger but meh)

additional notes: this is a long one.

Part two |

[y/n] stood in the podium, her hands bound by golden chains. She looked at the higher angels who sat on the high chairs of the courtroom, her [e/c] eyes stared at them with boredom. She never liked being in heaven, so many rules to the point she couldn't breathe. She was created a few years after the infamous Lucifer fell from grace, she admired him. She has heard his cause and mentally agreed to his beliefs—she couldn't say it out loud as the higher beings would punish her. She was a good angel, always a rule follower and a good role model, then she suffered from burnt out, repeating the same thing everyday—waking up, praying, doing good, following the rules.

She started questioning their ways and now, the time has come for it to bite her back as she finally faces a trial. [Y/n] what happened the majority of her trial, she remembers doing a couple of nods in agreement and occasionally rolling her eyes whenever Adam said something stupid. She couldn't take whatever bullshit Sera was yapping about and decided to cut her off, “Enough about all these rules, just admit that us angels are egomaniacs, always hungry for control. Heck, Lucifer was right with his intentions but you guys saw it as an act of disobedience. You didn't like what he was doing since it didn't follow what you guys wanted him to do.” She said coldly, her tone making the whole room tense and cold, “he thought it was unfair to the humans to follow whatever heaven's command is without question and hesitation. But Lucifer gave them freedom,” [y/n] pauses, glaring at the higher beings, eyebrows furrowed and her eyes staring at their very soul, “Heaven is fake, you put on a show for everyone, pretending that everything is fine and this is a fun place filled with peace and we all know you guys want them to blindly follow your rules.”

“Do not ever speak his name or do you want to follow where he is?” Sera asked loudly, her voice commanding and echoing off the walls of the court but her message just made the angel in trial smirk, “Oh...? Frankly speaking, I think hell seems to be a better and more fun place than heaven. I could do whatever the fuck I want.” [y/n] says with a smirk, heart thumping loudly for the first curse word she had said. This made Sera more angry, “Then, so be it.” Sera sneers.

Falling... So this is what Icarus felt when he flew too close to the sun. Lucifer was lucky as heaven wasn't this harsh before, [y/n] closes her eyes as she felt the stinging pain of the wind caressing her back, golden ichor flowing from where her wings should be, but despite the pain, a grin was plastered on her face as she embraced the imminent pain she'll receive once she hits the burning ground of hell. Despite the extreme pain she felt on her back, the missing part of her that heaven decided to take—she felt free, shimmering tears cascades down her cheeks as she cried for her acquired freedom while simultaneously mourning for the loss of her wings. Her weak body passing by many, many clouds, passing by the crust of the earth and soon she could see the fiery red skies of hell, she can only wait for the impact.

She could hear the sound of something breaking and cracking, the loud ringing on her ears before her world turned dark. Falling from grace isn't enough to kill her.

Lucifer's usual schedule usually consists of him wallowing in self pity inside his room, making rubber ducks, or having an existential crisis in his balcony. Lucifer just so happens to be on his balcony that day, talking to his newly created rubber duck that looks like his daughter when his eyes noticed the dark red clouds of hell parting and a figure falling at extreme speeds, at first he thought it was another soul who ended up in hell but his eyes widened to see occasional gold shimmering on the figure. “What...” Lucifer murmurs in confusion, his eyes following the figure and what the...? It's about to land in his front yard.

Only his eyes widened in fear as the figure crashed and golden ichor splattered everywhere. The realization damned upon him that another angel has fallen from grace.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Lucifer never cursed so much as he jumped off the balcony, three pairs of wings springing out of his back as he quickly flew next to the crash site. “I swear to me if this person died,” this wouldn't be the first time someone died in his front yard but it would be the first time an angel would, but can an angel even die from this impact?

He quickly checked the fallen angel, identified that it's a female. She looked like such a mess, golden ichor splattered everywhere, messy hair from falling, eye bags, and passed out but despite all that, he found her to be very beautiful, “I swear to me, this isn't the time Lucifer.” he muttered to himself as he began to work and make sure this woman is treated properly. What made the king of hell freeze was when he used his power to lift her up gently, he noticed that so much blood was gushing out of her back where the bone that should connect to her wings. He just realized why this angel crashed, she couldn't fly. She doesn't have her wings anymore and that realization filled his heart with anger.

He stared at her broken form lying on the bed of the spare guest room of the castle, he couldn't fully heal her. There's a limit to how much his angelic powers could do, it can't reverse the damage heaven themselves have done to her. Thankfully, he managed to fix all broken bones and close the wounds she had received but he can't fix the trauma she'll receive from this. Believe him, he tried (with himself).

His hand caressed away the hair that was falling on her face, finally taking a good look on her. She looked more beautiful without those wounds, she looked better without the stress—a contrast to the first time he's seen her. Warmth flooding his cheeks, he doesn't even realize that the red of his cheeks has become significantly darker.

“Ah, Lucifer stop. You don't even know this woman,” Lucifer mutters in annoyance as he squeezes his own cheeks to stop the warmth before eventually leaving the guest room to continue his usual routine.

He's starting to get worried, the fallen angel that currently resides in his guest room still hasn't woken up. It's been eight days. He spent the entire week checking up on her and continuing to treat her, he admits that this unknown angel's presence did good to his mental health as he was busy worrying for her that he forgets to listen to his intrusive thoughts. “What am I going to do with you?” Lucifer mutters softly as he places his hands above her, hovering over her body as golden hue begins to glow. Slowly and surely healing her.

Aching pain in her muscles is what she felt, slowly regaining consciousness. [Y/n] woke up in an unfamiliar room, oddly reminds her of the rooms that only royalty have. She tried to move her muscles but she could feel it cracking from not moving for a long time. “What happened...?” she asked herself softly, trying to remember what happened. The trial, Sera's anger, Adam being annoying, falling, her wings, then crashing. “Where am I?” she asked herself again, her voice croaking slightly, she slowly moved her body so she could sit on the bed, her eyes wandering everywhere, taking in her surroundings. She noticed that the symbol apple and snake was present on the designs of the tinted windows. The door opens.

Another week has passed, still no sign of her waking up. Lucifer was walking towards the guest room, preparing himself to try to heal her again. He opens the door and he froze to see the fallen angel who's usually lying limp on the bed is now sitting and staring on the window. “You're awake.” he says softly and she turned to look at him, her eyes, it's so beautiful. “Who are you?” she asked him softly and he smiled, “The name's Lucifer Morningstar, welcome to hell.”

#Spotify #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer #PLEASEE THIS WAS ORIGINALLY A SMUT BUT I DECIDED TO DO A BACKGROUND WRITING ON THEM FIRST FOR THEIR RELATIONSHIP TO BLOOM #“END GAME” — LUCIFER X READER

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 7 months

Text

the things you do for love ; satoru gojo

synopsis; satoru begs you to wear the frilly maid dress he bought. against your better judgement, you indulge him.

word count; 7.0k (this was supposed to be short but i miss him terribly)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly sweet, literally just satoru being down horrendous, lots and lots of petnames (he is embarrassing), he’s ur biggest hypeman, entirely sfw!! (i feel like i have to specify that…), reader is a lil grumpy, satoru gojo is the most insufferable man on earth <3

a/n; this is just a silly lil wip i found in my drafts…. i dont remember what possessed me to write this i just think satoru would cry and fall to his knees and throw up blood if he saw u in a frilly dress

”— no.”

the word rolls off your tongue, instantaneous, with a decisive kind of sterness. leaving no room for hesitation, doubt or indecision; not a single gap for his argument to fit through, no loophole he could take advantage of to persuade you into giving in.

but despite all that, satoru just won’t back down.

”come on, baby, please?” he pleads, voice coaxing and sugary sweet. you can almost see those puppy dog eyes of his from behind the black glass of his shades. ”i already bought it and everything!”

”i don’t care,” you spit. a halfhearted attempt at appearing annoyed, in hopes it’ll distract him from the strawberry flush of your cheeks. ”i’m not wearing it. you shouldn’t have bought it, in the first place.”

”but sweetheart,” he drawls, tinged with a sadness he knows tugs at your heartstrings. ”it’s so cute. you’ll look so adorable.”

”not happening.”

”but —”

”— no. i’m seriously not wearing it, satoru.”

and it’s harsh, the flow of your words, sharp and firm; but that’s your only option when he gets like this. your only slim chance at survival, being almost painfully direct. that doesn’t stop your resolve from weakening pitifully when satoru’s posture wilts, though, obviously exaggerated but still somehow effective. you debase yourself for being so weak for him.

but giving in just isn’t an option, this time.

under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t take too long for him to persuade you. satoru can be annoying, extremely so — but when he’s being so stubborn about something, there’s usually a good reason for it, even if it’s just that whatever he wants you to do will make him happy. to you, it’ll do.

(his happiness is your priority, after all.)

but in this case, there’s just no way. absolutely no way in hell.

he’s still holding that thing up, like he genuinely thinks it’ll support his argument, swaying it lightly side to side. it really, really doesn’t. it does the complete opposite, in fact.

”but angel,” he tries, again. you wonder if he’s eventually going to run out of petnames, or if he’ll just keep cycling through them until he runs out of air to breathe. ”don’t you wanna see how it’ll look on you?”

a sharp scoff flows from your lips.

he can’t be serious.

you really, really, really don’t. if anything, you want everything in the world except for that. you’d rather smash a glass bottle into little pieces and eat them one by one. you’d rather sit on satoru’s lap in a room full of other people. you’d rather jump in front of a moving train with explosives tied to your back.

— it’s so frilly.

you almost couldn’t believe it, yourself. when he barged into the room, cardboard box in hand, fresh from the mail; all while wearing an excited grin, foreboding, but you were too mesmerized by it to even notice.

it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, so you didn’t think much of it. satoru buying you gifts is not in any way unusual, even and especially if you tell him not to — and usually, it’d be a sweet occasion. the kind of moment you can soak in, drink up, and then recall fondly for the rest of the week.

every single detail is worth cherishing. how excitedly he always opens it up, eager for your reaction, and how you always thank him, no matter what it is. sincerely, because satoru can be awkward with his affection, but his love bleeds through in moments like these.

from expensive, well-kept bouquets to little flowers on the side of the road; from thought-out gifts to little trinkets; no matter what it is, the sentiment remains the same.

(this made me think of you. i want you to have it.

i remembered you mentioning this brand. i love you.)

a way for satoru to show his love, without overwhelming himself or you. a way of easing him into it, when everything is still just so new to him.

buying you whatever catches his eye is the perfect solution, according to satoru. and it exasperates you, sometimes, when you come home to five amazon packages right outside your doorstep — but deep down you know it’s more for him than you. because it makes him happy, to be able to, allowed to show his love for you in ways like this. in normal ways, easy ways, that say more than his words ever could.

(being granted the luxury of making you happy. of loving you, even if satoru doesn’t think he’s very good at that, just yet. but he is good at impulse buying things he knows you’d like; so that’ll have to do, for now.)

which is why you couldn’t help but let his infectious joy seep into your bloodstream, trickling its way through your veins with a sweet kind of fervour. couldn’t help but smile, a tender curl of your lips, in tandem with his cute little grin. couldn’t help but grow a little bit excited, as he opened the package —

to reveal a cutesy, frilly, maid outfit.

— and then your mind screeched to a halt.

the look on your face must have been something special, horrified and flustered in equal measure. almost in disbelief, as he immediately began to gush about the outfit in his hands. look at the bows, isn’t it cute? god, you’re going to look so pretty. i mean, you always do, obviously, but —

you weren’t really listening. all your mind could do was spin in circles, trying to get some read on the situation, but it was just no good. he genuinely, thoroughly, truly and sincerely expected you to put on a goddamn maid outfit.

if he had bought it for himself, then maybe you would've been at least a little bit excited. you’re sure he'd look good in it; with those big blue eyes of his, that cute, happy grin. so good that your heart would probably combust, a little. melt through the floorboards.

but no — he wanted you to wear it.

and despite your instant, firm protests, he just will not give it up. your boyfriend is a stubborn man, so it’s no surprise, but it’s still enough to irk you.

”satoru, for real. no! i’m not wearing it!”

”but you’d look so good,” he whines, loud and grating as he inches closer to you. still holding the dress up like a prize; you back away, instinctively, like it’ll burn if you touch it.

”i don’t care! it’s a maid outfit! why the hell would i ever wear it?”

sunglasses seated at the bridge of his nose, satoru allows you to catch a glimmer of his eyes — an effective method of persuasion. he definitely knows their power, and he’s definitely flaunting them for the sole purpose of making you falter. that manipulative scumbag.

the fact that it actually works makes you even angrier, though.

a sharp turn of your head, and your gaze falls on the windowpane, lingering there as you grumble under your breath. he’s so annoying. you’re growing more and more flustered by the minute, too.

”— because you love me?”

satoru tilts his head, white locks of hair following the movement. soft and silky, nice to run your fingers through, but you chase the thought away as soon as it enters your subconscious. he looks almost hypnotizing under the sunlight, with the golden rays illuminating his features, smoothing over the contours of his face — as if the sun was made solely to shine on his skin.

and ah, you think, there we go. satoru’s classic tactic; using your love for him as a bargaining chip, pouting down at you like a kicked puppy. you like to picture his eyes all watery and glassy, everytime he tries it, as if he’s some rejected cartoon-mascot. so silly.

valiantly, you fight off the temptation to smile, gracing him with another little scoff instead. shooting him an unimpressed look, a tiny raise of your eyebrow. ”that won’t work on me.”

”aww, come on,” he almost coos, inching closer still. ”don’t you love me? my sweetiepie? my cute lil’ mochi?”

(he’s getting bolder with the petnames, you note. as if that’d change anything. they’re so cheesy it makes you recoil.)

”obviously.” you deadpan, trying your best not to let affection seep into the words. but you see satoru’s lips curl up, anyway. ”i’m still not wearing it, though. sorry.”

satoru sighs. heavy, exasperated — dare you say defeated? for a second, you delude yourself into thinking he might actually give in, for once, spare you both the trouble —

until he falls to the floor, knees hitting the soft flooring with a loud thud. awfully dramatic. he clasps his hands together as if to beg and plead, a starved dog at your feet, and gazes up at you with newfound determination.

”please, baby — i’m begging you,” he groans, voice sad and pained, agonized, like you just threatened to break up with him. silly, silly man.

”don’t grovel.” a sigh drops from your lips as the pads of your fingers go to massage your temples. soothing what you’re almost sure is an incoming headache.

and he makes a certain noise, almost a whimper, like you just kicked him in the gut. you glance down at him as if to signal really? with your eyes, lips parting to speak —

but your breath only hitches in your throat, and no sound comes out.

satoru’s eyes are almost teary. peeking out from behind his shades, big and glassy, eyelashes dewy with what you know are just crocodile tears. he’s far too skilled at it for his own good, though — maybe you should be supporting his acting career, instead of the weird teacher-slash-sorcerer thing he’s got going on.

and you’re weak, you realize, terribly so. because something deep within your chest constricts, at those sad eyes, heart squeezed painfully, and when you speak you note that your voice sounds a lot softer.

”satoru,” you sigh, again; more resigned this time, a little fatigued. missing the way his eyes glint at the sound, as if sensing an opportunity. ”really. i’m sorry i wasted your money, but it’s just… not happening. okay?”

attempting to sound delicate, your voice settles on a soothing tilt, like an adult speaking to a tantrum-throwing child. hoping it’ll be enough to make him falter even slightly.

it isn’t, of course; if anything, his determination only grows.

”even just for a short while?” he tries, voice sweet and pliant. all daisies and sunbeams, tailormade to tug at your heartstrings. ”just an hour or so! then i’ll be satisfied.”

”an hour? no way!” you scoff.

and this time, you don’t miss it. from behind those shades, a certain glimmer of something flickers through his irises — something keen and observant. a certain dread crawls its way down your spine.

”so it’s fine if it’s less?” he grins, changing tactics, smooth and decisive. ”half an hour. that’s as low as i’ll go.”

”oh my god.” an exhale, drawn out and exhausted, from the very depths of your chest. ”satoru. toru. no. i’m not wearing it at all. this isn’t an auction.”

”but it could be,” he purrs, still on his knees. it makes him look a little bit disturbed. ”c’mon. why are you getting so shy? guess what — i’ll even settle for twenty minutes. just for you.”

oh, he’s just awful. you want so badly to be mad at him, and that teasing, smug, shit-eating little smirk of his — but you can’t.

not when he looks so effortlessly pretty, bathed in the light of the sun, surrounded by a mellow glow so tender it makes him look something like an angel. not when he’s acting so characteristically himself, so stubborn and infuriating and entirely impossible not to love.

another sigh. you’re a little surprised you have enough air left in your lungs to breathe it out, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re beginning to grow just a bit tired of the back and forth. ”i’m not shy,” you huff. ”i just don’t want to. it won’t look good on me, anyway.”

satoru blinks. genuine surprise shines in his eyes, for a second, like you caught him off guard. ”huh? of course it will. why wouldn’t it?”

a pause. gnawing at your bottom lip, you avert your gaze, trying to find the words. ”it’s just… tacky,” you settle on. ”it’ll look weird.”

”it won’t! you’ll look so cute!”

another huff, as your dispassionate, bored gaze meets his. ”and how do you know that?”

satoru's answer is instantaneous. ”you always look cute. just wanna see how you look in this,” he chirps, brandishing the outfit with barely contained excitement. thoroughly giddy. ”when i saw it, i knew it’d look adorable on you. and i’m never wrong!”

a soft pout plays at your lips, in the wake of his eager sincerity. barely noticeable, just a little embarrassed, but it’s there. and satoru’s seen it, finally — the road to victory. he knows he can win this, if he’s smart about it.

”i just wanna see you in it. just for a second. please? pretty please?” he tilts his head, tantalizing, showing off the blue of his eyes and the curl of his lips. ”then i’ll never ask you for anything again. promise!”

”okay, that’s a lie and we both know it.”

the grin that blooms on your lips is a mistake, you quickly realize, because satoru interprets any sign of joy on your face as positive approval. his determination grows.

”yeah, yeah… but i mean it! i won’t bother you if you just wear it once. just once!” he puts a single finger up, to emphasize the point. ”just wanna see my precious baby all frilly and cute. won’t you indulge me, oh my dearest?”

he’s grinning, now, all soft and teasing. it’s more breathtaking than he’ll ever understand. he’ll never even come close to understanding how gorgeous he is, like this — when there’s no one around to perform for, when he can just be himself. when it’s just you, and satoru, and the feeling of having all the time in the world.

(even if you don’t.)

and you know your face must be flushed, a soft cherry red, as your gaze falls to the floor. the heat on your cheeks and neck, the pitter patter of your heartbeat; you feel it all.

and it’s embarrassing, to find yourself so fervently twisted around someone’s finger — to find that you don’t even really mind. being wrapped around satoru’s finger isn’t so awful, all things considered. it’s a scary thought, for sure, but he’d never abuse the privilege. probably.

— a sigh.

you still don’t want to wear it. you really don’t. it’s just awful. tacky, and embarrassing, and overall unpleasant.

… but if it’ll get him to stop nagging you like this…

and if it’s just for a short while…

silence, only silence, spilling into the sunkissed air. outside your apartment, the sky melts into a buttery orange hue. an intense contemplation is etched into your eyes, and satoru takes note of it; opting to put the final nail in the coffin. his very last bid.

”fifteen minutes. then you’re —”

”ten minutes,” you cut him off. sounding just a tad exhausted — resigned to your fate.

and satoru doesn’t even bother trying to hide his excitement. suddenly beaming, he shoots up to his feet, and it causes you to jolt. ”perfect,” he grins, holding the dress out toward you. a little too eager for your liking.

”— but seriously. i’m only wearing it once. never again,” you tilt your head. ”got it?” satoru just nods, happily, so excited he’s practically jumping up and down — and despite everything, you still can’t find it in you to be angry.

he looks so earnestly giddy.

eyes brimming with suspicion and weariness, your hands reach out to take it into your arms; the puffy dress, the frilly headwear, and the black thigh highs. you’re surprised he didn’t invest in a pair of shoes, while he was at it. just to complete the set.

(you decide not to comment on it, knowing he’d have some poor, overworked shoemaker on the phone within seconds.)

”need my help putting it on?” he purrs, face suddenly very close to yours — and the sudden stutter of your heartbeat sparks a hitch of your throat. desperate to cover it up, you shoot him a hefty glare.

”oh, shut up,” you hiss, but satoru only grins wider. soft little giggles flowing from his lips, like a schoolgirl teasing her upperclassman. silly.

a heavy hesitance rests on your features, as you give the outfit another chance. judgemental eyes trailing over the bows and frills, giving it a thorough look, until your lips curl down into a soft frown. it’s not that bad, but…

”it’s kinda ugly,” you lie, decisively.

”really? i think it’s cute, though.”

”yeah, ’cause you have no taste.” a click of your tongue. ”what’s so great about maid outfits, anyway? i don’t see the appeal.”

satoru smiles. carefree, amused — still very much teasing. ”well, we’re about to find out,” he chirps.

you give him a look, eventually giving way to a soft exhale. ”fine — but only ten minutes. at most.” a pause, as you stop to think. what else? ”oh, and no taking pictures.”

”— i’m taking pictures.”

…

the exasperated look you send his way doesn’t seem to phase satoru even in the slightest. he continues to smile at you, unbothered, soft around the edges, and you know you’re not winning this one either.

”… fine,” you sigh. ”but — not too many, okay? and you aren’t allowed to show anyone, either.”

”of course not,” he scoffs, almost offended. ”as if i’d let anyone else see you like that.”

stuck between feeling relieved and put off, you settle on simply letting it go. and satoru continues to speak, reassuringly, glossy lips shining in the sunlight as they part.

”rest assured, baby,” he hums, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. ”this stays between us. i swear on my honour.”

you snort. ”like you’ve got any of that.”

”mean. anyway — c’mon. i can’t wait any longer.” before you can think to protest, he’s ushering you away in the direction of the bathroom, big hands heavy on your shoulders as they push you. still hesitant, you make no move to resist.

(what have you gotten yourself into?)

with one final sigh, your fingers curl around the doorknob, outfit hanging off your arm. not before sending one final glance back at satoru, reinstating your conditions. ”just this once. then you’re selling it. or burning it.”

”yes, yes — you have my word,” he promises. before you can narrow your eyes, he pushes you forward, gently; bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. ”go on, i’m waiting!”

”yeah, yeah…”

the door closes behind you with a soft thud, and the reality of the situation begins to finally dawn on you. the maid outfit weighs heavy on your heart, but light in your arms — you gaze down at it with pure contempt. it’s not like you have a choice, though. satoru won’t let you wriggle away from this one. and maybe, just maybe, a part of you wants to indulge him, after all.

(his smile shone so brightly, in the light of the sun.)

and it’s almost cautious, the way you begin to dress yourself; first the thigh highs, black and silky, then the outfit itself. pulling it over your head, your arms sneaking through the openings.

it’s a perfect fit.

a second passes. you stop to think, brows furrowing in suspicion — did the little bastard measure you? just to make sure he got it exactly right? he has been rummaging through your closet more than usual, recently, but you didn’t think much of it. over the years, you’ve conditioned yourself not to question the things that he does. that sneaky, sneaky man.

after putting on the headwear, you finally lift your gaze, tentative and slow — to take a peek at your own reflection. the flush on your face stands out, a contrast to the black and white colour scheme of the outfit.

and you can’t help but exhale, a little exasperated.

it’s so… frilly. there are frills on the sleeves, on the shoulderpads, on the skirt, on the hems… everywhere. little bows litter the surface of the smooth fabric, a big one attached to the collar, and several smaller ones across the sleeves.

and as much as you loath to admit it — it is kind of cute.

still, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re only embarrassing yourself. it’s hard not to think, when a maid outfit is staring into your soul through the mirror — and you just so happen to be wearing it.

(what the hell are you even doing?)

a low groan slips from your lips, and you crouch down, to bury your face in your knees. the flush of your cheeks is beginning to spread towards the tips of your ears, growing hotter by the minute. satoru’s about to see you like this, of all people. how on earth will he react?

(what if he thinks it looks weird, too?)

”i’m still waiting!” a voice suddenly exclaims, sing-songy and sweet, and closer than you realized. has he just been standing there and waiting in silence, this whole time? of course he has.

”just —” you croak out, words a little strangled. ”just… give me a minute.”

satoru lets out a high-pitched whine, cheek pressed against the cold wood of the door. ”but i’ve been waiting so long already!” he complains, pouting, the urge to see you growing unbearable. impatience tugging at his heart, so excited he can barely pull himself together.

(all he can think of is you, you, you.)

curling up into a little ball, you attempt to swallow the bundle of nerves in the back of your throat — but that jittery, feather-light feeling of your heartbeat just won’t go away. it makes you feel a little paralyzed.

you're actually, genuinely, sincerely about to go show off a goddamn maid outfit. what the hell.

when you finally grasp control over your vocal cords and part your lips to speak, the voice that spills out into the air sounds more than a little meek. but you can’t quite bring yourself to care, overcome by a heart-tingling nervosity and the heat of your skin.

”… i don’t want to.”

satoru pauses.

he can picture you, in his mind’s eye; the way you must look, right now. clad in frills and a cute little skirt, face flushed red and embarrassed, as you shift from foot to foot. and it takes concentrated effort, to bite back the coo that threatens to crawl up his throat — but he knows it’s still not too late for you to change your mind. if he wants to see you, he needs to be careful. so he tactfully opts not to tease you.

”come on, angel,” he soothes, instead. voice smooth like honey, like coffee with cream and too much sweetener. ”don’t be embarrassed.”

you stay silent, still attempting to suffocate the tinge of humiliation in the depths of your chest. so satoru continues. ”just come on out, hm? might as well get it over with. then you won’t have to think of it again.”

a moment passes.

”… do i have to?”

the corners of his lips curl up.

ah, you’re so cute. all embarrassed, almost childish, in the way you’re still trying to be difficult; and satoru just indulges you, all too eager to get you to show yourself to him. ”yes, you do,” he coos. ”be good f' me and come on out, okay?”

a couple moments pass. eerily silent, growing second by second. the only sound that fills the air is that of satoru’s soft breathing, the distant whirring of the ceiling fan.

until finally, he hears the squeak of the bathroom floor. you stand up, turning to glance at your reflection in the mirror one last time, before hesitantly reaching for the doorknob.

it’s slow, the way you open the door, agonizingly so — pushing at it slightly and dragging the movement out. and you can feel satoru’s presence, right behind it, as he takes a step back to give you space. when you finally step over the threshold, you adamantly refuse to meet his gaze.

(satoru’s breath hitches in his throat.)

there you stand, gaze stubbornly averted, expression flustered and mildly annoyed. cheeks dusted a dark cherry-red, that crawls towards the tips of your ears as you fidget with your frilly, oversized sleeves. they’re dressed in little bows, awfully cute, and so is the skirt — short, but not enough to expose the skin of your thighs above the thigh highs. you still squirm a little, thighs pressed together.

and then, of course, the big bow on your collar to complete the look. pink in colour, a stark contrast to the whites and blacks of the remaining outfit.

after a moment passes with nothing but pure silence, your lips part to speak. doing anything you can to stop yourself from looking over at the man in front of you, afraid of what you’ll see. ”i don’t think it suits me,” is muttered, a tiny huff. ”… and i still don’t see the appeal, by the way.”

— but satoru doesn’t answer.

he just stares. uncharacteristically silent, in a way you’re wholly unaccustomed to. enough so that you find yourself gnawing at your bottom lip, fidgeting with the hem of the skirt, hoping the smooth texture will soothe your nerves a little. the beating of your heart resounds in your ears, sending blood flowing through your veins with excited pumps.

the silence festers, and all you can do is let it grow, your nervosity thickening with it — until it’s just too much to bear.

(ahh, you knew it. it really does look weird, doesn’t it? that’s to be expected.

still, you can’t help but feel just slightly dejected.)

”… why aren’t you saying anything?”

the little mumble comes out sounding embarrassed, and maybe just a little defeated, too. but satoru doesn’t hear it. as your gaze falls on the man in question, slowly, you take in his expression with a frown on your face — and realize that he isn’t just keeping quiet.

he’s completely stunned.

no matter how hard you stare, you can’t seem to get a good read on his expression. he’s just standing there, face completely blank, eyes entirely obscured by the black of his shades. the light streaming in through the glass of the windows has shifted its course, falling away from the two of you — but you still see the vague, red tinge crawling up his neck.

and as soon as you spot it, satoru begins his descent.

crouching down to the floor, silently, he brings his hands up to cover his face. feet against the ground with his knees folded, pressed against his chest, stilling as he inhales sharply. shades seated on top of his head, pushed up by his hands when he buried his face in them. a groan drops from his lips, muffled by the skin of his palms — but you can hear it clear as day.

”hold on, just… give me a minute…” he finally croaks out, words somehow tiny. almost shy.

upon closer inspection, you realize your eyes weren’t deceiving you — there really is a red hue to his neck, one you aren’t used to seeing on him. strawberry-tinged dust, staining his smooth skin, the tips of his burning ears. satoru actually looks flustered, for once. and your heart can’t help but flutter.

— he thinks he might actually, genuinely die.

it’s a wonder, he thinks, that he managed not to fall to his knees the very moment he laid eyes on you. all dolled up; frilly and cute, in his own words, though they don’t come even close to properly describing how adorable you look right now. with your flushed face, shy eyes, and all those little frills and bows adorning your dress. rendering him speechless, clogging up his throat with pure unbridled love. a mouthful of honey, too sweet for even him to swallow.

god. god. he really, really needs to pull himself together.

crouched down like this, face hidden behind his hands, he can physically feel himself grow more and more flustered. senses invaded by the sound of his heartbeat, deep and visceral, until it’s all he can hear — he knew you were going to look cute, obviously, but he was seriously underestimating you. your cuteness is lethal.

even just the sight makes him weak in the knees. even just the thought of you makes him feel a little like his heart is attempting to break out of his chest. hurling itself at his ribcage with ferocious resolve, like he could keel over and die of heart failure at any given moment. he’s pleasantly surprised that he’s managed to suppress the loud squeal his body keeps trying to let out, honestly.

and while satoru struggles with his deep, internal turmoil, all you can do is watch. looking down at him with wide eyes, as his skin flushes a bright pink, like little chrysanthemums blooming from his neck up to his ears.

yeah, you think, there’s no doubt about it. satoru is flustered. it’s not a side of him you get to see very often, so you can’t help but be just slightly caught off guard. staring at him silently, until you snap out of it, eyes simmering with something soft and delighted.

he’s so cute.

(and maybe, just maybe — it makes you want to tease him, a little bit.)

so you crouch down, facing him with your knees against your chest, jaw resting on your crossed forearms as you gaze at him. he’s still not looking at you, face hidden behind his palms, shying away from your view.

and then you sigh. the sound catches his attention, soft — and just a little bit dejected.

”… you’re the one who wanted me to wear it,” your lips curl down into a pout, ”and now you won’t even look at me?”

satoru stiffens.

(you sound sad. you sound disappointed.)

slowly, he parts his fingers, desperate to soothe you — blue eyes peeking out through the gaps, as if the sight of you could blind him. he then proceeds to move his hands, tentative, laboured, like he’s dragging heavy weights off his body. like it’s a struggle.

with his face finally exposed, all flushed and pretty, bright azure eyes stare at you; brimming with pure adoration.

satoru exhales, almost shaky. he has to take another moment to simply look at you, as if drinking in every inch of your expression. memorizing every corner of the face he’s grown to love so much.

a moment passes. then two.

then, he practically pounces on you — engulfing you like a tidal wave, trapping you in his big arms as they go to curl around your waist. shades falling off at the impact, hitting the floor with a soft thunk.

”you’re killing me,” he whines, loud and right by your ear. nuzzling into you, squeezing you like he’s a puppy with a chew toy. ”you’re so, so, so cute. d’you want me to have a heart attack?”

a hitch of your breath. that’s all you can manage, utterly failing to keep up with him as he presses you up against his chest. rocking you back and forth in his embrace, smearing open mouthed kisses across your skin; whining and murmuring about how adorable you look.

a flurry of warmth, of love, of something a little too precious for words. something distinctly satoru, that makes you forget about everything else — as if the world stops spinning somewhere outside of his arms. as if that’s where you belong.

all you can do is indulge him. maybe you’re spoiling him a little too much, but it feels nice; letting him drown you in his overwhelming affection. the thought of creasing the dress doesn’t even seem to cross his mind, as he squeezes the life out of you.

evidently, satoru suffers from an acute case of cuteness aggression.

”so adorable,” he murmurs, leaving wet kisses on your cheeks. his exaggerated mwahs make you feel just a tad shy. ”my little sweetheart. all dressed up for me.”

squirming in his hold, he only brings you closer, smothering you in his warm embrace. the slightly erratic beating of his heart is all you can hear, with your cheek squished against his chest. arms keeping you nice and still, lips lingering over that one ticklish spot behind your ear.

a little giggle slips from your lips, and satoru feels himself smile; wide and giddy, boyish and adoring. nuzzling into the comfort of your chest, soft fabric brushing against his skin, a low whine escapes his throat. ”can't take it. wanna put you in my pocket.”

”your pocket?” a grin blooms on your lips, words dripping with honeyed amusement. satoru grins right back.

”my pocket,” he hums, approvingly. ”you’re just so cute and small. gotta keep you close, so i don’t lose you.”

a huff, lighthearted.

suddenly, the grip around your midriff tightens — and you’re hoisted up, stumbling a little as satoru lets go of you. still holding onto you by your wrists, softly, delicately, as if you’re made of glass. when you lift your head, all you can see is his satisfied little grin, and the twinkle of his eyes.

your heart flutters.

satoru gazes at you, silently, still drinking you in. every second spent staring into the brightness of your eyes fills his heart up just a little more; colourful, heart-shaped candies, scooped up and poured into the hole in his chest. patching it right back up, so effortlessly sweet that it makes him want to pluck every star from the sky and offer them at your feet.

”alright,” he breathes, taking a step back. breaking the delicate silence, a little dance between him and time. fingers still curled around your wrist. ”do a twirl for me.”

a humoured scoff. ”hell no.”

”aw, come on! you gotta pose for the photo, baby.”

before you know it, satoru’s got his phone out — and it’s aimed right at you. by the time you notice it, you’re fairly certain he’s already managed to snap a couple pictures. so all you can do is sigh, in faux exasperation.

”c’mon, c’mon,” he coos. ”give me a smile, pretty.”

a roll of your eyes, as you bite your lip to muffle a soft bout of laughter. it doesn’t really work. ”i’m good.”

satoru seems unaffected by your words, pulling back from your touch reluctantly; just so he can make a show out of playing the cameraman, switching between elaborate positions and taking pictures from angle after angle. somehow, you get the feeling he’s forgotten your request to keep the pictures to a minimum.

(he looks like he’s having fun, though. so you let it slide. just this once.)

”god. you’re way too cute for your own good, you know that?” he murmurs, leaning down to take another picture. and it flusters you, how smoothly the words slip from his lips, how it seems like he barely even has to think about them at all.

it’s a little embarrassing, in a heart-fluttering kind of way. but you do your best to hide it.

”you’re a sap,” is all you say, soft smile playing at your lips.

”and you’re adorable,” satoru grins.

then he slips his phone into his back pocket, satisfied with the collection, and grabs your hand.

his fingers curl around yours, softly — and then he lifts it up. bringing it to his lips. they’re warm, as he kisses across your knuckles, the tips of your fingers. soft as a feather, tickling your skin.

(as if he’s whispering psalms under his breath. as if he’s worshipping you.)

then he tilts his head, eyes gazing at you sweetly. sweeter than fresh mandarin slices, splotches of marmalade, his favorite caramel fudge. and his eyes crinkle, crow’s feet and dimples peeking out as he smiles, an easygoing kind of joy blooming on that pretty face of his — youthful, boyish. it suits him more than anything.

his voice comes out smooth, awfully coaxing. so very easy to give in to, paired with that breathtaking grin.

”one tiny twirl?” he asks, politely.

he’s so annoying.

(but you’re far too in love to say no.)

so with a single roll of your eyes, and a soft little scoff, you relent. indulging him once more, just one more time. just one little twirl.

satoru feels his heart squeeze painfully, deep within his chest, as he watches you spin around. skirt and frills ruffled by the movement. just once, a soft little twirl with your fingers intertwined. far too precious for his heart to take.

when you stop, just a tiny bit dizzy, he leans in, and the kiss he leaves on your forehead is soft. chaste, but it still pulls a blissful sigh from the back of your throat. satoru’s lips curl up against your skin, before he pulls back — eyes almost overflowing with affection.

”cutie.”

you blink.

averting your gaze, flustering a little under the weight of his love-filled eyes, all you can do is emit a soft little huff. embarrassed, as it flows from your lips. but it only makes satoru’s smile grow further.

”okay, okay. you’ve had your fun.” you clear your throat. ”time’s up.”

suddenly, satoru’s eyes fill with something akin to dread — nose crinkling, just barely, a sign of his displeasure. ”noooo,” he whines, draping his arms around you. tugging you close. ”just a little more? please? pretty please?”

”nope! we said ten minutes. no take backs.”

”can’t i have an extension? since i’m your favorite?” satoru pouts, puppy dog eyes in full force. only this time, they don’t work as well as he’d hoped.

”nope,” you repeat, popping the p. ”sorry.” another whine buzzes right by your ear, and you smile.

”and then we’re burning it.”

”noooo!”

”sorry, but it’s gotta go.” you bite back a soft grin. satoru sounds agonized, voice dripping with grief, and it makes your heart dance with barely contained laughter.

”but then you can’t wear it anymore, baby…”

”that’s kinda the point, toru.”

”but you’re so cute in it,” he pouts, bringing you closer still. squeezing at your waist and rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. ”it’d be such a waste if you never wore it again, don’tcha think?”

he’s trying his best, you can tell — attempting to make you falter, coax you into wearing it just a little longer. but for today, you’re done indulging him.

”well, too bad.” nuzzling into his neck, your tone settles on a firm tilt; decisive, as you nip at his skin. just a little teasing. ”i said i’d never wear it again, and i meant it.”

a moment passes. maybe it’s the warmth of your lips on his skin, or maybe he can tell you aren’t budging — whatever the case, satoru finally seems to relent. an exhale tumbles from his tongue, deep and drawn out. ”fineee,” he drawls. ”i’ll just buy you a new one.”

”i won’t wear it. i’ll just get angry.”

”at lil’ old me? really?”

”really really,” you click your tongue. ”if you love maid outfits so much, why don’t you wear one yourself?” a beat. ”it’d look good on you.”

satoru perks up, suddenly. pulling away so his eyes can meet yours, bright and teasing, glazed over with something excited. ”oh?” he purrs. ”you wanna see me in one, huh? so bold, baby.”

a scoff slips from your lips, sharp but tinged with laughter. ”well, it’s only fair, right?” grinning up at him, your hand reaches out to smooth away his bangs. fingertips trailing across the expanse of skin, touch so very tender that his eyes flutter shut. ”i think you’d pull it off better than i ever could, anyway.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, seconds ticking by slowly; a dance with him and time. an attempt to prolong the softness of the moment.

”hmm… well, i’ll consider it.” just barely holding back a smile, he leans into your touch. ”you gotta wear it with me, though. we can buy a matching set!”

”that makes no sense,” you huff, with a raise of your brow. ”i’ve already worn it once, so next time, it’s gotta be all you.”

”sorry, baby, but you need to do it too.” he cradles you close, smoothing a palm down your spine, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. chest rumbling with the smooth timbre of his voice, words rich with teasing fondness. ”i’m too shy to do it by myself.”

and you really, really wish you could be angry with him — but it’s just impossible.

satoru is just way too lovable, smile far too sunny and warm for you not to melt under. and his caress says more than words ever could, light and doting, careful and loving; like how a believer cups a handful of holy water. as if you could slip from his grasp at any moment, so he has to keep you extra close.

in the end, all protests and complaints die on your tongue. you only laugh, soft and breathy, filling the air with a fondness so palpable you can almost taste it. bordering on something close to a scoff, but never quite getting there.

eventually, satoru does — begrudgingly — let you change out of the outfit. whining a little, sulking a tad, before brightening right back up again. like clockwork, the sun peeking out after a rain shower, the calm after the storm. always that same happy smile, wrapping you around his little finger.

satoru, in all his glory; your very own pocket of sunshine. annoying, stubborn, thoughtful —

and yours, wholly and thoroughly.

(while you’re busy gazing at him adoringly, satoru grumbles under his breath. contemplation painted on his features, as his mind spins in circles. frills, bows, lace…

what kind of design would make him look the prettiest for you?)

#satoru ”my girl look so good today im abt to scream and moan and throw up” gojo #he is so husband coded to me. so unbelievably babygirl #he would absolutely wear a maid dress if u asked him to btw. and he would rock that shit so hard.#just……. gojo in a dress………….. breathe if u agree #im a firm believer in flustered satoru also…..#it wouldnt happen often but if u act cute enough i just think smth in his brain stops working #and he grins rly wide and tries to cover his face w his hands so you wont see how much hes blushing. if u tease him more he squeaks #who said that.#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #gojo fluff #jjk fluff

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chvoswxtch · 5 months

Text

slumber party

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader x derek morgan x spencer reid

summary: while en route to a case, the four of you let off a little steam.

warnings: all of them. every single one of them. swearing, a lil angst, derek morgan's smile, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 3.3k

a/n: let's be real. you didn't come here for a plot, and I didn't write one. enjoy this slutty vision I had in the shower. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

The jet was quiet apart from the sporadic sound of pages being flipped and Spencer’s occasional soft noises of either being intrigued or perplexed regarding details of the case, deciphered only by their volume and pitch. Hotch had read the same paragraph on the report at least seven times, and there seemed to be some kind of disconnect between his tired eyes and unresponsive brain. Letting out a quiet irritated exhale and diverting his attention to the top of the paragraph yet again, a soft noise caused his ears to perk up.

Finally looking up from the report for the first time in half an hour since he originally sat down, creases furrowed in the midst of his forehead when he glanced towards the other end of the jet and caught sight of you. From where he sat, all he could see was the back of your head since you seemed to be facing the back of the seat you were in, which he found extremely odd. But as he craned his neck, he noticed a familiar pair of hands on your hips and instantly clenched his jaw.

“Son of a bitch.”

The second Hotch shot up out of his chair, Spencer finally tore his own eyes away from the report and turned his head to follow Hotch’s angry march down the aisle of the jet with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. Now that there were no obstructions in his line of sight, Hotch had the full view of you sitting topless on Derek’s lap with your skirt bunched up around your waist, grinding your hips down in a slow but sensual rhythm. Derek’s hands were firmly grasped on your hips to help guide your movements, and his face was buried into your exposed chest.

“Morgan you greedy fucker.”

The sound of Hotch’s angry voice booming in the comfortable silence caused you to immediately tense up and stop moving, but Derek wasn’t having any of that. He gripped a little tighter onto your hip and gave your ass a light smack, pulling his head back to look at you with that dazzling smile of his that could make anyone weak in the knees.

“No no no no, keep goin’ baby girl. Don’t worry about him. You just keep doing what you’re doing…that’s it.”

Derek leaned his head back against the seat, looking over at Hotch with that same charming grin on his face. His warm chocolate brown eyes were glazed over with lust and had been eclipsed into half moons of pleasure.

“Sorry Hotch, she just looked too goddamn good.”

“What’s going on back-oh.”

As Spencer took his place beside Hotch, his eyes immediately went wide at the sight he was met with. He seemed to be completely mesmerized by the erotic flow of your hips while you languidly rode Derek’s cock as you sat topless on his lap. While Spencer was bewitched by the spell of your hips, Hotch was furious. The stern look that seemed to be his default expression was unaffected by the show taking place before him.

“Morgan, you know the rules-”

“Come on, Hotch. We still got another hour before we land. Lighten up a little. You know, some stress relief would do you a whole lotta good.”

Before Hotch had a chance to respond, Spencer was already stepping forward and unbuttoning his cardigan.

“You could’ve at least asked us to join.”

Derek let out a soft chuckle, rubbing his hands up and down your smooth thighs as he flexed his hips upwards to match your pacing.

“Hey, you were the one more invested in exactly how many trees there are in the Acadia National Park than you were in the beautiful woman on the plane, pretty boy.”

“Well if I had known-”

Letting out a frustrated huff, you stopped moving and placed your hand over Derek’s mouth before turning to look at Spencer and Hotch over your shoulder.

“Boys, you know I hate it when you argue. It makes me dry up.”

Spencer dropped his forgotten cardigan on the chair behind himself, his attention solely fixed on you again. In the dim lighting of the plane, you could just barely see that the green flecks in his honey eyes had deepened into a wicked hue. He ran his fingers gently through your hair before cradling your face in one hand and starting to unbuckle his belt with the other, all while looking at you and dragging his tongue along his bottom lip.

“Don’t worry, we can get you wet again.”

“Not if you’re all standing around bickering instead of fucking me.”

Hotch wasn’t giving in, no matter how badly he wanted to. It was late, he was exhausted, he was beyond sexually frustrated, but above all he was fucking stubborn.

“There is one rule on this fucking plane. When we are en route to a case, we are focused on the case. Playtime is for after.”

Brushing Spencer’s hand away from his belt, a smirk tugged across your lips as you looked up at him and began to unbuckle it yourself, which only caused him to bite down on his bottom lip seductively. Throwing a glance over your shoulder at Hotch, you could visibly see just how pissed off he was, but as your gaze wandered down south, you could also see the outline of his impressive cock starting to strain against his pants. Sinking your teeth into your own bottom lip, you looked up at Hotch through your, flashing him a sultry smile while you teasingly unzipped Spencer’s pants slowly.

“Aw, come on, Aaron. If anyone needs some relief, it’s you. Just come have a little fun with us.”

The hardness in Hotch’s glare wavered only slightly at the provocative sound of your voice. It was an unrelenting struggle to keep his eyes focused directly on yours and to not let them roam over your body. If he let his gaze wander for even a split second to see the way your nipples were peaked from the cool air in the cabin, the way your soft hand was caressing Spencer’s cock through his pants, or the way your ass moved against Derek’s lap while you fucked him, he would break. While Derek began to flex his hips upwards a little harder to fuck up into you now that there was no longer a reason to stay quiet, you were pulling Spencer’s cock out of his briefs and leaning over to take him into your mouth.

Before he could watch you wrap your lips around Spencer’s tip, Hotch quickly looked away and stormed off towards the other end of the jet, dropping into his chair and loosening his tie with a hardened scowl on his face.

“You’re all getting written up.”

“For what?”

Derek's protest was only faintly heard since Hotch’s blood was now pounding in his ears like a high school marching band, and throbbing in other places.

“Insubordination.”

There was a slight growl to his voice as he barked back at Derek, not even bothering to look up as he angrily began to look through the case file again, but he couldn't focus. No matter how hard he tried, all he could hear was Derek and Spencer praising you in tandem as they each took an offering from your body, and the soft noises of gratitude that flowed from your lips. It was absolute fucking torture. He thought about palming himself through his pants, just to get a little reprieve without alerting any of you to his moment of weakness. But he was so fucking angry with all of you, he didn’t even want to give in.

His mind was a jumbled concoction of juxtaposed thoughts, none of which had anything to do with the case in front of him. Hotch wasn’t sure why he was so pissed off right now. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if he had joined in, it wasn’t like the four of you hadn’t done it before. It certainly would’ve put him in a better mood. But this was a big case, and Strauss had been on his ass more than usual lately, and things at the BAU had been so chaotic that the team was getting split up just to keep up with the influx of cases coming across JJ’s desk.

Maybe it was a mistake not to send you with Rossi, JJ, and Prentiss. The air always shifted when you were alone with him, Reid, and Morgan. It was inevitable. Maybe that’s why he ordered you to come with him, because even if he didn’t want to consciously admit it, subconsciously he knew that this was exactly what he needed. He needed you, and the peace that you brought him.

The sharp sound of a smack landing on flesh caught his attention, and Hotch looked up to see that the three of you had moved to the bench directly in his line of sight. Derek had his head thrown back as pounded into you from behind, occasionally smacking his hand against your ass while he grunted about how tight and wet you always were. Spencer held your hair back while he fucked your mouth, watching you as he moaned praises of what a good girl you were. Your face was obstructed by Spencer’s back, but Hotch could hear how much you were enjoying yourself, and he couldn’t look away.

As Derek and Spencer came in unison, Hotch gripped onto the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles turned stark white, and he inhaled a sharp breath that he let out slowly through his nose. Gritting his teeth, he glared down at the blur of black ink on the pages, listening to the sound of your angelic laughter and kisses being exchanged between the three of you. Why was he doing this to himself? Why hadn’t he just fucking given in and joined?

While Spencer was sitting on the couch with his pants around his ankles, head back against the window with a blissed out look on his face, Derek snaked his arm around your waist and pressed a soft kiss to your neck before whispering into your ear.

“Do me a favor, baby girl. Go take care of grumpy over there.”

Letting out a quiet giggle, you turned and brushed your nose against Derek’s before kissing him softly.

“Already ahead of you, D.”

Discarding your skirt completely, you dropped it in Spencer’s laugh and planted a quick kiss to his lips before sauntering down the aisle of the plane, completely naked. Hotch glanced up when he caught the smell of your familiar perfume and looked at you with a halfhearted glare. All you could do was smile at the sight of his thick brows furrowed and the permanent scowl that he always seemed to wear. You both knew he couldn’t stay mad at you, and he didn’t even put up a fight when you made him lean back against his seat so you could sit on his lap.

“Why are you so mad baby, hm?”

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you ran one of your hands through his dark brown hair, giving a gentle tug at the root which earned a quiet grunt from him. As you leaned in to place featherlight kisses along his jaw, you could feel his body physically relax, as well as how much his hardened cock was straining against his pants. But despite the giveaways from his body, Hotch wouldn’t budge. He didn’t make a move to touch you, and he didn’t speak. He was always the hardest of the three to break, but you knew exactly where his weak points were.

“Oh, you don’t wanna talk, huh? That’s okay. I’d prefer to do something else with my mouth right now anyway.”

Gently biting down on his earlobe, you felt his thighs tense up beneath you and a quiet grunt sound from his chest, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. As you got off his lap, you slowly got down onto your knees in front of Hotch and unbuckled his belt. Since he was already in a sour mood, you decided to skip the teasing, and honestly you were so turned on yourself that you didn’t have the patience for it.

He was trying so hard not to give in while you were pulling the leather of his belt out of the buckle, and even as you were unbuttoning his pants and tugging down the zipper, he was trying to appear completely unbothered while looking at the case files. But the second he felt your luscious lips wrap around the throbbing head of his cock that was slick with pre-cum, he completely lost it.

Letting his head fall back against the seat, he closed his eyes and his lips parted as he focused solely on the warmth of your mouth and the wetness of your tongue sliding against the underside of his sensitive tip. In that moment he completely forgot whatever he was mad about. Every single coherent thought in his head vanished, and all that was left was you.

You don’t mind when he slips his hand into your hair and grips at it roughly, or when he starts to push his hips upwards to seek out more. It was rare that Hotch ever gave in to his selfish desires, and you were all too eager to let him. The sight above you was one you wished you could frame. His dark brown hair was messy from you running your fingers through it and his eyes were peacefully screwed shut. There was a twinge of heat covering his cheeks, and his lips were parted further as heavy pants and soft whimpers escaped. Those little noises only make you want to steal more of them from the man that was normally so stoic and closed off.

All of a sudden, Hotch roughly pulled at your hair causing you to moan around him. He grunted while leaning down to slip his hands under your arms, pulling you up from your knees and shoving all the reports off the table in front of him carelessly onto the floor. He grabbed you by your hips and lifted you up onto the table, and you immediately spread your legs wide for him to slot through. Without wasting another second, Hotch pulled you towards the edge of the table and easily slipped his thick cock inside your drenched pussy. Both of you moaned simultaneously at the contact, and he only faltered for a second before he started to aggressively snap his hips against yours.

Faintly, you can hear Derek whistling from the other side of the plane and the sound of him clapping as he calls out to Hotch.

“There he is. Come on, Hotch. Give us a show.”

When you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, Hotch wrapped one of his large hands around your throat and lightly squeezed. You can tell he’s still frustrated by the feral way he’s fucking you against the table, but you can feel just how badly he needs this release. Sneaking one of your hands down to play with your clit, you only get away with it for a few seconds before Hotch roughly smacks your hand away and tightens his grip on your throat. He replaces your hand with his own and starts to furiously rub quick circles over your sensitive clit, tearing a sharp moan from your chest. You can feel how close he is already by the way his rhythm starts to falter. When he speaks, his voice is so low and husky that it almost sounds like a growl.

“You insatiable little slut. You haven’t come enough already? You think you deserve to come again after the way you’ve been acting?”

“Aaron-”

“Shut up.”

The only thing you can hear over the obscene sound of Hotch’s thighs smacking against your ass with every powerful thrust and the lewd squelching of his cock disappearing over and over inside your tight cunt is the dark chuckle that sounded from Spencer before he spoke.

“Uh oh, someone pissed off Daddy.”

The way you moan Hotch’s name nearly has him combusting right there. When he starts to rub your clit harder, your jaw becomes unhinged and hangs open, but nothing comes out. You can’t speak, you can’t even make a sound. Hotch grunts as his pace becomes even more fervent and brutal. He was fucking you with everything he had, using your body to expel every ounce of pent up frustration, and you were already ascending into the clouds.

“You wanna come so fucking badly? Then do it.”

The tightening of your cunt around his cock sends both of you over the edge, and both of your moans seem to echo in the small space of the cabin. Hotch continues to fuck you wildly through his orgasm, gripping onto the edge of the table to steady himself. Once he starts to slow down after emptying himself inside of you completely, the blissed out smile that replaces the frown on his mouth makes you giggle, and it causes him to finally open his eyes and look down at you with an arch of his brow.

“What?”

“Better?”

Hotch just stares down at you for a moment with slightly narrowed eyes before he finally gives in, his lips parting into that wide grin that you love so much but rarely get to see. Taking a moment to catch his breath, a light chuckle leaves him as he gazes down at you with softer eyes this time and brushes your hair away from your face gently.

“You know, the whole point of me being your boss is you’re supposed to actually listen to me.”

“You of all people know I listen very well.”

The sultry tone of your voice and the implications behind it caused Hotch to smirk, and you can feel the effect it has when you feel his cock twitch inside of you. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against your own and gave your ass a light smack.

“When you’re being a good girl and not such a brat.”

A soft noise of surprise left your lips when he smacked your ass, and you giggled while grabbing his face in your hands to pull him in for a soft and slow kiss.

“I don’t hear you complaining.”

Rolling his eyes, Hotch reluctantly pulled out of you with a soft hiss and helped you down from the table. He ran one of his hands through his hair and took another deep breath before tucking his softened cock back into his pants.

“Alright, everyone back to work.”

“Wait, everyone got to fuck her but me, that’s not fair.”

Hotch glanced down at his watch on his wrist before looking over at Spencer, shooting him a pointed look when he caught the slight pout on Spencer’s lips.

“We’re landing in twenty minutes and we still need to prep.”

As Spencer began to protest, you walked over towards him and placed your hand on his chest, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek with a mischievous grin.

“Don’t worry, Spence. I’ll share a room with you tonight, and you can fuck me all you want.”

Spencer’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas, but Derek and Hotch immediately began to protest as they shared a look before staring at the two of you with looks of frustration.

“Whoa whoa whoa-“

“That’s not-“

Spencer wrapped his arms around you to pull you in, bending down to kiss you deeply while grabbing a handful of your ass to squeeze tightly causing you to giggle. He nipped at your bottom lip before turning to look at Hotch and Derek with a smug smirk.

“Don’t worry. Unlike you two, I know how to share. Maybe we can all have a slumber party.”

tags: @mars-rants-a-lot @ninejlovebot @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @vane28282 @kmc1989 @avencol

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writingmeraki · 1 month

Text

be there when I wake up — k.mg drabble.

❝ in which you love mingyu in all states of your mind, whether sober or drunk out of your limit.

( or it seems even when you're drunk you don't recognise him but you still love him with your whole heart. )

pairing : secret agent! husband mingyu x secret agent! spouse reader. warnings : mentions of alcohol and being drunk, hangovers, reader almost has a breakdown (?). genre : fluff, romance. a/n : more of them, I can't get enough I have too much to write on them😔 let me know what you think of this 💌!! not proofread (this was very random pls I am absolutely NOT procrastinating my other wips, ignore errors pls it's lit 5am 😴 )

word count : 1.3k

part of this au !

It felt like you were on cloud nine, feet light as you walked and head filled with nothing.

Being drunk tends to do that to you at least.

Today, when Mingyu and you got your well deserved day off, he decided it was time for you to be the one to let yourself loose.

Not that he never did let you but usually you were the one who assigned yourself as the designated driver whenever it was just you two. Though being as thoughtful as he was, he made sure to never be too hectic for you to handle if he could do it himself.

And even then, he'd still do his best to stabilise himself albeit the attempts were always hilarious but the thought counted.

He held you tightly by your waist to his side, making sure you didn't fall or wander off somewhere because see while he was the type to be the clingy drunk, not leaving your side, you were the carefree one, wanting to fly away, perhaps even quite literally.

As your husband and more importantly lover, he did not want to entertain the idea of you hurting yourself by accident. Luckily, all the gym hours he’d spend building his muscles to impress his one and only lifetime crush (read:you) paid off, because you used him completely as a support to walk, leaning all your weight on him.

Your cheeks were warm, eyes half lidded, now the pain in your cheeks was prominent from smiling so much, it seemed you smiled more when drunk than sober in a few months. It wasn’t because you were emotionless but rather only smiled to those who deserve it, which was only a handful of people. Your husband is on the top of course.

Speaking of your husband, you suddenly paused in your steps, remembering him. Realising you were clinging onto someone, you pushed yourself away, smile dropping and being replaced by a frown while you glared.

Mingyu blinked once, twice, a little startled from being pushed away and even more when he saw your glare.

“You shouldn’t hold some stranger like that, mister.” You could make out the silhouette in front of you, but the face was a blur. The classic case of drunken forgetfulness.

“Babe-”

“BABE? Are you crazy? Only my husband can call me that! Which by the way.” You put out your left hand, pointing towards the shiny ring. The shiny ring he got you. “See!I’m married!”

“And-and I am very happy with my Gyu, I don’t need you- or or anyone courting me- I am very happy with my relationship sir.”

Fuck. Why did you have to say it like that?

He couldn’t stop the grin on his face, there was no way he could even if he tried to. Only you could make him feel like the first time he'd ever have a crush on someone. His heart raced, almost too fast. He swears he can feel his chest fill with even more love.

“Okay, okay how about I get you to your car?”

“No mister! I re-refuse I don't want to go with you, where's Mingyu? Where's Gyu???”

You were whining at this point, finding your legs too tired so you ended up just sitting. Right in the middle of the pavement.

Mingyu’s eyes widened when you sat down but even more in panic, the smile dropping as he saw you bring your hands to your face.

You were crying.

“Where's Gyu? Did he leave me?” A hiccup came after the sentence, as your vision got more blurry with the tears flowing even more freely.

He rushed towards you squatting beside you, pulling you into his side.

“Honey, I'm here. Shh. I'm here.”

You looked up from your position, making sure to blink to clear out the tears and there he was. Your husband.

“Gyuuu” Your words slurred and choked up as you threw yourself at him. Him immediately wrapping his hands around you, still in the sitting position.

Your arms looped yourself around his neck as you put your head in the crook of his neck, still crying.

“I thought you le-left.”

“I'd never. I would never leave you.”

“Please don't.”

Slowly, he got up, pulling you gently up as well, still holding onto you and your entire weight now leaned on him.

“Come on, you wanna head home?” You pulled your face away from the nook, looking up at him as your sobs stopped turning to sniffles.

He moved one hand to hold your face as he caressed your cheek, pushing your stray hair strands behind your ears with delicate touches.

Your eyes began to droop, the side effects of being drunk slowly overcoming you. You just simply nodded as you put your head back to his comfy shoulder.

Sighing, he shook his head as he noticed your breathing slowing down, coming out in slow exhales, meaning you just passed out drunk.

He softly smiled as his hand still caressed your hair. He wouldn't have it any other way.

[ bonus cut : the following morning ]

You were sure this was your karma catching up to you because the way your head was splitting was surely due to your supposed horrible past deeds. There was no other reason.

“Good morning sunshine~”

“Zip. Shut. Shh. Not a word.”

Mingyu frowned, pouting at your harsh reply, but a small pity formed as he saw you wake up while holding your head in pain.

“That's mean.”

“Not mean enough, I will actually kill you.”

Being the ever so doting husband he was, he'd gotten up from your shared bed, made breakfast, your favourite food by the way, and even gotten ready for the day.

“Have this, you'll feel better so that maybe you can plan my murder better hm?”

And now there he sat down beside you on your bed, a painkiller in one hand with a glass of water.

You grabbed the water like you had never touched it in your existence, gulping it down along with the pill,even if it ended up spilling onto your clothes. You frankly don't care.

Mingyu gazed at you with the same adoration he always had. He loved you at all times, anytime. He just knew that he loves you. He didn't think he said it enough.

“I love you.” You almost choked on the water, gulping it down before it sprayed out. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Can I not say I love you to my spouse?” He honestly felt offended at the suspicious look on your face.

“Alright…”

Now it was his turn to squint at you in question, as if waiting for something.

“I guess I love you too.” You were pulling his leg, you loved to see that look on his face where it seemed as though someone had stepped on his tail. Like a puppy who’s tail had been stepped on by mistake

“I don't even want to talk to you. Bye.” He snatched the empty glass, glaring at you now, you knew it was not with any sort of malice, you knew him. He turned around, purposefully stomping and then you couldn't stop the laughter.

You burst out in giggles, clutching your stomach, the headache subsiding.

You threw off the blanket and rushed after him, hugging him from behind, hands barely wrapping around his large frame but it did stop him. You placed your face sideways on his back.

“I'm kidding, I'm kidding, I love you. Like surely. One hundred percent.” You said still chuckling, the grin on your face not faltering.

He wasn't even upset in the first place, because the moment he heard your laugh, his own grin formed widely on his face.

“You mean it?”

“I do. Always did. And will.”

And perhaps this was what it meant to be loved. And to love.

for my dearest @etherealyoungk ; THIS IS A VERY VERY LATE BIRTHDAY GIFT TO MY WIFE 🫂 ( blame that on the fact that this was totally not what I planned to write for ur birthday 😔) I love you so much and I can't believe we got close this soon <3 I wish I could have known you before because it feels like I know you since so long, you're literally my soulmate like??? i hope you have an amazing year ahead soo here is ur fave couple as a present mwahh (mine too lowkey)

perm. taglist ( open ! ) : @mansaaay ; @gyuguys

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