#I want this man so bad it isn’t even funny anymore

[watanabes-cum-dump]

No because Zenos encapsulates the charm of enemies to lovers so perfectly I physically CANNOT bc like-

Everyone else loves WoL for their bravery, for their kindness and courage; but not Zenos. He loves them for the ugly parts. For the blood, the yelling, the catharsis of it all. Like isn’t that so romantic??? People’s admiration is a fickle thing but he loves WoL for the absolute worst of them. There is quite literally nothing WoL can do to make him stop loving them

[sanjisblackasswife]

𝕊𝕖𝕩 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕞 (Geto and Gojo)

Ft. Geto and Gojo (Separate)

Blk!Fem Reader in Mind

CW: TWT LINKS,Not just SEX, but making love, kissing, touching, oral, established relationships, Gojo is warning of himself, Dom(?)Reader

Bad Summary: My opinion, I try not to include any FANON versions of them either. I want them both bad what can I say.

Gojo

It’s hesitant yet, intense.

A man like Gojo isn’t an easy person to be vulnerable with, but Satoru is different .

He makes light jokes to mask his internal feelings.

“Touchy, huh? You must have wanted me soooo bad.”

However your touches on his arms make his breath Hasen.

He’s a flirt, but somehow you managed to catch him at his quietest when you rub your fingers against his undercut, kissing his earlobe so gently and light he almost thought he had on infinity.

Satoru doesn’t have sex consistently. He can’t even remember the last time he had a moment of pleasure like this, so he’s eager, but catches himself not able to move the way he wants since his body betrays him every-time you land your lips on his.

Sex with Satoru is unbearable in the best way. Probably a night you’ll never forget, due to his ability of being talented in every aspect you can think of. His tongue knows exactly where to land. He has a slight obsession over your little clit as well. Soft and cold pink lips capturing it to suckle. If you mask your own moans for a second you can hear his moans of approval and smacks against your lower lips to taste more of you.

His noises are pornographic. Shameless as he pushes your knees to hit your chest while his huge warm hands to cup under your ass and use his thumbs to spread your lips apart and push his mouth further inside you.

He has an oral fixation only you (and candy) can accommodate so sex with him can be relentless. He doesn’t apologize for it either, regardless of the “M’sorry, baby.” He tend to mutter against your panting mouth once you’ve came twice.

Sex with Satoru is needy and close. Satoru has an additive personality. If he likes something he wears it out completely. He doesn’t know when to quit. Overstimulating himself and you in the process, without a care in the world, because he always gets what he wants. And if you’re what he wants. He’s going to keep you under him until he can’t anymore. It’s all about you for him right now and he needs you to know that while he’s speaking to you in your ear

Sex with Satoru is funny. Once he gets comfortable enough he uses his slick mouth not just to make you cum, but you make you giggle and blush . A few jokes about how much of a mess he made on your new sheets because you tasted too good. How your tits shake so cutely when you’re orgasming. He is just so vulgar.

He praises you. Almost to the point you want to tell him to shut the fuck up but you can’t get yourself to do so because that moment where he moans out your name when you clench down on him, sounds like music to your ears. It’s rasped and dragged out. He is so loud you can barely hear the bed creaking below you both.

His eye contact is intense. Satoru can’t stop himself from looking at you, and he doesn’t wanna creep you out by saying look at me so he keeps his eyes on your mouth and eyes until you realize what he is non verbally asking for while he is on top and inside you.

His slow kisses are what gets you yearning for more. The way how silky slick and smooth his tongue collides with yours, make you whimper every once in a while, and the beautiful noises go straight to his dick (un)fortunately.

Sex with him ends with you both in the bath giggling and smacking on something sweet while he hand feeds you. You feel a few kisses on your forehead and a couple “Felt so good.” Under his breath. Hes stroking your ego without even realizing it.

Sex ends with you holding him. It kind of occurs when he places you on the bed (naked) and fake yawns to lay all over your body, saying he’s your blanket for the night.

You could complain but why would you? He looked finally at peace laid in between you breast.

Geto

Sex with Suguru is memorable and exciting.

He is so careful with his touches, he tends to laugh when you scoff to rush him to move faster, but it’s all apart of his plan to break you down (lovingly ofc)

Foreplay with Suguru isn’t just that night. It’s in the morning when he kisses you slow and caresses your ass against the kitchen counter before he heads out

It’s in the afternoon when he sends you post workout pictures with his pants DANGEROUSLY low to his hips.

It’s that evening when he cooks for you with sweats and his hair down just how you like. Licking his lips as you taste test the food he made on his finger.

Sex with Suguru is full of embarrassment. The man is very big. His cocky smirk looking down at you while he pinches your nipples. Pointing out how hard they’ve gotten after just kissing them.

Sex with Suguru is, overwhelming, his natural scent is intoxicating, his silky hair dragging all over your torso while he licks you down from your neck to your clit makes your spine shiver. He always manages to savor and take his time with you. Fingering you with straight eye contact and words of affirmation of how well you’re behaving for him before he sucks on your pussy.

Suguru knows what he’s doing, he knows what makes you needy, irritable, and even more horny to his liking and silly you, don’t even have a clue(?).

His whole body is so surprisingly soft and yet hard. His chest so squeezable that when you take the chance to actually suck his nipple he lets out the prettiest noise you ever heard. Who knew he was so sensitive there?

Sex with Suguru is messy. The spit, sweat, and cum sprayed all over your both. You don’t even bat an eye after he cums inside you just to go back down on you to taste himself between your legs. All you’re doing is admiring how pretty he is. Cheeks pink, eyes low lidded. You bite your lips when he catches you staring and winks at you while he holds your legs back

Kisses kisses and more kisses. All you need to do in the bed with Suguru is lay back, moan his name, and kiss him. Even if you’re breathless he will be the one to take the wind away from your lungs if needed be.

Sex with Suguru is reassuring.He doesn’t allow you to ever feel anything, but loved and secured that he only and ever wants you. Not just in sex, but his life. His purple eyes stare you lovingly when you cum for him. You’re the most beautiful being in the world and he’ll remind you of it every chance he gets.

Sex with Suguru is so teasing. Allowing all that pressure build up just for him to stop and wonder his attention to another part of your body. About to cum on his finger? Can’t. He wants to suck on your breast. About to cum on his dick? Well now he wants to slow down and give you a kiss knowing he can just do both. Little do you know he’s edging himself more than you.

After sex with Suguru is like a slip of the switch. Brushing ur hair back and telling you to match his breathing style to calm down.

“There you go baby just like that breathe in and out..good girl.”

After Sex with Suguru leads to more pleasure for you. He just can’t quit. He isn’t sorry for it either. Just lay on your belly and let him do what he calls “cleaning you up.

After sex with him is like being turned into a princess. A carry to the toilet while he wipes your face with a cool damp towel. You don’t need to lift a finger and if you don’t tell him no already he’d wipe your ass for you.

After a shared shower He holds you in bed while giving your back a small rub. You feels so safe in his large arms. Hearing his heart beat in your ear was its own white noise that lead you to fall asleep. And you can, because he isn’t going anywhere in the morning.

[soxcietyy]

my request is yuta finding readers toys and testing it on her the next time they do the deed 🙏🙏

Rating’s

This is embarrassingly late, I’m so sorry 😭🙏🏼

Nobara comes over to your house with a mystery box just to be disappointed with the contents inside. Yuta shows up unexpected and seems very interested in it.

"Hey! Guess who finally got the goods! Can’t wait to see what’s in here." Nobara said as she stood in front of your door with a cardboard box in her hands. It took you a second to even figure out what in the world she was talking about. What plans could of you guys made that you had forgotten about?

Ah yes last week she had mentioned that she made a new friend who owned a company. He said that he needed people to review his new products before he could launch them in his shop. Before he could reveal what it was Nobara stopped him, telling the guy that she wanted it to be a surprise. She promised to run over here once she received the package so you guys could be surprised together.

"What do you think it could be? Clothes? Food? Candy? Skincare? Makeup?!" Nobara said excitedly as she squeezed passed you. She didn’t need permission to enter because she would barge in even if you said no.

Walking into your apartment she decided to put the box on the coffee table. A loud thud could be heard as it made contact with the glass top. She took a seat on the floor as she waited for you, excited to see what was inside. She almost looked like a kid eager to open there gift. That would have to wait a second though. Walking to the kitchen you grab some wine glasses and a bottle so you guys could enjoy together. Whatever it was would go perfectly with a cold bottle of wine.

"Hurry up!" She says as she crosses her arms.

Yyou let out a sigh as you lean on the island, then you tell her to open the tape up while you poured drinks.

"I’m so excited!" Nobara says as she pulls out her keys and drags it across the tape to tear it open. While she did that you opened the bottle and poured the drinks into the glass. Once you had finished you approach her and place the cups down. Nobara didn’t want to waste anymore time, she pulls you towards her so you could look above the box with her.

"Okay I’m going to open it in three, two, one."

She opens the box to reveal what’s inside. Both of you look at each other in shock. It was a box full of toys and they weren’t the kid friendly ones. You put your hand inside and pull out a pink silicone toy in the shape of a male body part. You couldn’t help but crack a smile at your friend.

"That disgusting monster!" She says in disbelief.

"Hey now, I’m sure he was going to tell you what it was before you stopped him." You say defending the man.

She rolls her eyes as she sits back down on the floor with her legs crossed. As she continued to pout you pull out some lube that was brand new and sealed. You quirk your brow as you read the flavor of the lube, popcorn… interesting.

"Common Nobara this isn’t bad at all! You don’t get laid enough so I think this could help you out." You tease.

"Ha Ha, very funny y/n" she stood up abruptly and started to walk away.

You furrow your brows as you turn to look at her. "Where are you going?" You ask

"I’m not intrested in this kind of stuff, you’ll probably use it well. Your man probably doesn’t satisfy you enough so have fun." She says throwing shade back. As she opens the door you see someone standing in the door way. Her jaw drops when she noticed it was Yuta.

Speak of the devil.

"Uh y/n … Yuta is here."

You quickly put everything back and kick the box on the floor behind you once you heard those words fall out her mouth. You had forgotten that he mentioned coming over today. You didn’t need him finding such things in your house, he’d get the wrong idea. You scramble to stand up with the glass of wine still in your hand. Taking a sip of your drink you run to the front door. To find him with a concerned look.

"You okay? You look pale." Yuta steps inside and holds your face to examine it.

You kindly put his hands down and assure him you’re fine. Your friend on the other hand had already made her escape. Seems like she didn’t want to be apart of what might happen in he finds the box.

Shutting the door behind him you watch him make his way to your couch. Maybe he would ignore the box. You had it closed so he wouldn’t open it right? He tends to respect your privacy after all.

You stood by the door watching him anxiously walk past the box. He took a seat and turned his attention to the tv that had drama playing. You sigh in relief seeing he had no interest in the box.

"You want some wine? Nobara didn’t even take a sip out of hers, it would be a waste." You say heading towards him.

"Yea I’ll drink it but could you please bring me some cheese and crackers? You know I cant have wine without them." He asks you nicely as he sat up from the couch to take a whiff of the wine.

You make your way in the kitchen and start making him his plate. While you did that you could hear him shuffling around, most likely getting comfortable. You couldn’t help but look over him a few times as you were occupied. Eventually you got fully focused on cutting the slices perfectly that you forgot to check on him. While cutting last bit of cheese you decide to look up but when you did the knife in your hand drops. Yuta was sitting on the couch with the box in his hands wide open.

He looked at you and the box back to back until he decided to place the box down to approach you. He had a concerned look on his face as he grabbed your hands.

"Am I not enough? You could told me this, no need to resort to that kind of stuff." He says with a sad tone.

You couldn’t help but stare blankly at him.

"N-no! Yuta you have the wrong idea. Nobara came over to drop thoes off so me and her could test them out." You say panicked.

You watch as his jaw drop from disbelief. Of course you worded it wrong. "Her friend owns a company and they have these new products! He needs a review before he drop it. Of course we’re not going to test them out together! Apart because we’re not like that."

He drops your hand feeling at ease with your answer.

"I’m relieved but you’re going to use these on your own? I doubt you would know how to use them." Yuta said as he walked to the box and pulled out a rose toy. Turning it in different directions so he could get a good look at the weird contraption.

"I’m more than capable of figuring it out." You roll your eyes.

He stalks back towards you as he held a wand vibrator in his hands. Bringing it near him mouth to use it as a microphone. "Two reviews are better than one." Yuta says as in the "mic" .

Putting the wand down next to the cutting board he pulls out the rose, clearly being interested in that one the most. He lifted you up and sat you on the counter you down on the counter. Pulled your night gown up as he tried to figure out how to turn on the flower.

Grabbing it from his hand you slowly direct your finger towards the power button so he could see. Once you pressed it, it started to vibrate in your hands letting out a humming noise. He quickly grabbed it to feel the vibration in his hands. A small smile appeared on his face as he put it against his hand.

"This has power." He says as he felt how strong and fast it was. Bring his hand down he tried to put it against your privates but you stopped him by covering the area.

"You’re not going to wash it first?" You looked at him.

He quickly turned on the faucet that was next to you and washed it with soap and water. He came back immediately to not ruin the mood. He then brings up the toy to his mouth and begins to lick it.

You were in disbelief from his actions. He was licking it and swirling his tongue on it as he pulled your panties to the side. He then pressed it on you once he was satisfied with the wet coat he had just created it. You jolt at the sudden vibration it created. You bite your cheek as you grab into his shoulder for support. You never really used something like this because there was no need. Yuta managed to satisfy your needs easily so this was entirely new to you.

Yuta would gradually go fast and faster until you were at your climax but this toy got to the point. It didn’t take long before your legs are shaking and your grip on him tightened. You begged him to not press it up your bran to hard but he didn’t listen. Instead he studied your facial expressions and mocked you when you would open your mouth from pleasure. Asking if you like this better than him.

You would shake your head but he didn’t stop. He was clearly trying to teach you some sort of lesson but it wasn’t getting quite through. Not even ten minutes passed and you were orgasming in his hand.

"Five stars" he says as he walks away.

While you try to catch your breath you find him Infront of you once again. You were surprised he came back so quickly. He saw your struggle to get down so he helped you down with one hand. You lean onto him as you try to regain your composure but he gave you little to no time as he bent you over the counter and shoved something in you.

You gasp at the sudden familiar feeling of being full. It wasn’t as filling as you were used to taking but it still felt amazing Turning back at him you see Yuta with an intrigued look. He pulled out the object out of you and slammed it back inside. You let out a loud cry from pleasure. He then pulls it in and out in a steady pace as he watched you squirm. You beg him to slow down In between moans.

You try to grip onto the counter as he pounded you with the toy. Hitting the right spot over and over again.

"This mouth was so hungry for something huh? Look at her drooling all over this toy." Yuta says as your juices run down his hand. You close your eyes out of embarrassment. Your legs loosing the will to support you in the process. Yuta was quick to catch you before you could fall.

He ended up paying on the couch While resting your body on his chest. You relaxed in his embrace until you felt the toy go back inside you. You look up at him with an annoyed look.

"What? We need to rate this toy. Won’t be possible until you finish." He kisses your head as continued were he left off. You grip his shirt as he started slamming the silicone toy in you. Body jolting everytime he dug it deep inside your body. Was he really planning on testing everything out on you? There was no way anyone could go through such a box. That’s at least twenty five orgasms in one go.

Another orgasm rippled through your body. You moan out his name as you grab his arm that was helping move the toy in and out of you.

"Seven, took you way too long to orgasm. Even I can do it in less time, it got the job done though. 3 stars."

"No more" you croak out in desperation.

"Why not? We just got started." Yuta sits you on you couch.

You pull your dress down with a flushed face.

"I can do the rest in my own with my own pace. Plus these toys are usually meant for self pleasure. It wouldn’t be fair to rate them together." You say hoping that wound stop him from continuing.

"Oh" he says "then masturbate with them."he says.

"I will, eventually." You say as you grab the toy Yuta was using as a microphone not too long ago.

"Do it right now, Infront of me." He tilts his head.

You look at him shocked.

"I couldn’t possibl-"

He grabs your hand with the toy and pushes it down there. You swallow hard as he looked into your eyes.

"I won’t touch you. I won’t bother you." He smiles as he sits on the couch opposite from you. "I’ll just sit here."

You bite your lip as he tells you to go on. You have no choice but to listen. Pulling your panties down you put your legs on the couch. Spreading them apart until he had a full view of everything. You watch as his hands roam on his pants. Caressing his member that rested under those pants.

Closing your eyes you turn on the device and put it on your bud. You let out a shameful moan out immediately because you were already so sensitive. You rubbed it up and down your area. Hips rolling back and forward from pleasure.

It felt so good but something was missing. You couldn’t think of what it could be. Maybe more of a stronger vibration? A faster speed? A better shape? Or maybe it was the man Infront of you.

You let out whimpers as you open your eyes too look at him. He was sitting down watching you pleasure yourself from afar. Eyes not looking away from you even for a second. You couldn’t help but wish for him to touch you and to do more.

"Yut-a" you flutter your eyes at him.

He tried his best not to respond since he said he wasn’t going to bother you but the look you were giving him made him turn on his words.

"Yes baby?" He asks.

"I want you to do it form me." You say.

Yutas leg jolted from excitement but he knew he shouldn’t. Still he stood up and approached you. Sitting on the floor right in front of you.

"Common baby you can do it." He says moving your hand a bit lower so you could get a better position on it. The small movement made a huge difference. You were now squirming like crazy. Legs twitching uncontrollably. All that came out your mouth now was your moaning and small profanity’s. Yutas name coming out time by time which he loved.

"Such a good girl, come for me no?"

He said as he kissed your thighs up and down, trying not to intervene too much. You cry out his name once more as you came. Body completely shutting down on you. Yuta was quick to move the toy out the way and bury his face in between your legs.

"Y-Yuta!?" You squeal

You tried to push him away but he was not moving until he decided he was. He ended up eating you out until he left you clean.

"Sorry I couldn’t help myself."

[formulafics]

★ BABY, JUST SAY YES | LS2

Scenario: its no secret that logan sargent isn’t single, but one thing that no one can quite figure out - not even his co workers - is who the mystery girl is. logan doesn’t reveal who until she’s no longer his girlfriend, but his wife. (requested)

Pairing: logan sargeant x fem!popstar!reader

A/N: it’s taken me 4 days of writers block to get this one figured out, but she is finally here! i hope everyone enjoys! <3

logansargeant

liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri, and 233,567 others

logansargeant the flight is always worth it to be with her

view all 2,345 comments

sargeantformula another day, another soft launch from logan 😔 when does the pain end?

logansgirl HE LOOKS SO GOOD

formulogan so either logan plays guitar or his gf plays guitar 🧐

⤷ norizzlando i thought that i could figure out something by looking at the music sheets but it’s beatles songs, and i doubt logan is dating paul mccartney

⤷ alexalbonooo23 STOP IT FHIS COMMENT IS KILLING ME 😭 “i doubt logan is dating paul mccartney”

logansargeant

liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon, maxverstappen1, and 356,789 others

logansargeant summer dump

view all 3,457 comments

alex_albon getting a little to close to using @/georgerussels tactics

rizzciardo logan pls just tell us who it is 😔 do it for your fans

⤷ norrisnation DO IT FOR AMERICA

formulaobssesed why is logan kinda…

⤷ sargeantformula YOURE JUST LEARNING THIS? HES BEEN FINE

sargeantnation THE FIRST PICTURE HELLO YOU LOOK SO GOOD

ls2sargeant okay, but WHO is in the second picture? 😭

logansargeant

in love

liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, oscarpiastri, and 124,678 others

logansargeant

view all 2,467 comments

formulanorris the location being “in love” is sickening

⤷ piastrizz no literally i want want what him and his gf have

williamillion ITS NOT FUNNY ANYMORE LOGAN

godblessls2 boy if you don’t just drop her @ rn

loscargirlie logan you wanna drop her @ sooooo bad rn

logansargeant and ynlnsargeant

liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 467,892 others

logansargeant so glad my baby said yes. happy one year, my beautiful girl.

view all 5,678 comments

ynsworld LOGAN IN RHE MIDDLE OF YNA FUCK I G CONCERT???

oscarpiastri happy anniversary ❤️

⤷ rizzciardo loscar crumbs 🥹 i love them

alex_albon happy anniversary! love you guys.

formulasargeant LOGAN WHAT????

piastrizz LOGAN HUNTER SARGEANT I SWEAR TO GOD

ynfannacc the caption. not okay, young man.

⤷ godblessls2 LMAOO THIS COMMENT IS SO FUNNY FOR NO REASON

rizzciardo the mesh of logan and yn fans in the comments is so funny to me 😭

loscargirlie I KNOW I BEGGED YOU MULTIPLE TIMES TO DROP THE @ BUT COME ON LOGAN

ynlnsargeant

liked by logansargeant, lewishamilton, alex_albon, landonorris, and 789,367 others

ynlnsargeant what a night. thank you to everyone who came out tonight, i am so grateful for your support. on a side note, happy anniversary to my love, @/logansargeant. one year down, forever to go. 🫶🏻

view all 6,789 comments

logansargeant i love you so much baby.

⤷ ynlnsargeant i love you more. thanks for coming out tonight ❤️

ynsguitar the end of an era - she changed her username

⤷ ynloverforlife ITS SO CUTE 😭 she and logan are actually so cute together i can’t even be sad

ynsworld simultaneously extremely happy for you and feeling like my heart has been ripped out. ilysm </3

ynsnumberone i cannot believe i witnessed this kiss in real time

⤷ formulasargeant i have no idea how you survived because me personally? that would be the end

danielricciardo NO WAY. happy anniversary!

⤷ rizzciardo DANIEL WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE LMAO

⤷ sargeantformula apparently only oscar, lando, and alex knew about their relationship. oscar was the only one who went to the wedding 💔 (not to mention daniel has always liked yn’s music)

all feedback is appreciated! thank you for reading <3 - daelynn

general taglist | @renarots (special shoutout to her for always fueling the brainrot for these fics) @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @harrysdimple05 @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @minkyungseokie

[traveler-at-heart]

Cat's out of the (super) bag

Summary: Natasha doesn't like going on missions with you. Learning the truth might make her change her mind.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Big thanks to @soggy-wet-cat for hearing this idea before I wrote it :)

--

Fury was going soft.

That was the only way to explain your presence on most of Natasha’s missions.

Rogers, she gets. He’s a super soldier and as capable as Natasha is, it doesn’t hurt to have an enhanced individual around.

But you.

Always slow, always too relaxed for Natasha’s liking. Insisting you could do more, but last week you weren’t even able to pick a lock.

Not to mention how much you avoid hand to hand combat. Natasha suspects it’s because your skill level is very low.

“She’d do better out of the field” Natasha complains for the tenth time. Fury smirks. “This isn’t funny. I’m risking my neck to protect her and she’s not even worried about getting better. I’m not doing missions with her anymore”

“Now, hold on” Fury protests. “That’s not for you to decide. And I thought you trusted me”

“It’s her I can’t trust”

“Too damn bad. You have a mission. No Rogers this time. And I better hear it went well, Romanoff”

Natasha rolls her eyes and leaves his office.

It will only go well if she convinces you to sit and wait at the jet.

—

“What did you do to piss off Romanoff?”

“Morning to you too, Nick” you smile, placing a cup of coffee in front of him. “I don’t know. It’s pretty obvious she doesn’t like me”

“I know that. Have you done anything to upset her?”

“I barely speak to her and when I do she doesn’t answer” you shrug your shoulders, going back to every interaction you’ve had with the redhead. Her intense glare comes back to haunt you. “Do you think she knows?”

“You tell me. Did you screw up?”

“I keep a low profile. Like you asked me to” you nod, knowing how important this is for him.

“Better stay that way. You’re both leaving for a mission tomorrow” the man hands you a folder and you skim it. “Keep your head down and don’t make her angrier”

“Is that even possible?”

“You don’t wanna know”

—

It’s a mess from the start. You try to stay away from Natasha, but every time your attempts go in the worst way possible. Like when she’s walking down the jet, and you move aside so she has space. Except you end up pushing a few buttons on the console and Natasha has to come back and straighten the ship.

“Stay still” she mutters, glaring. You nod and sit on your hands, more concerned with the woman’s temper than about the mission.

“Wait here” is all she says after landing the jet.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a very simple mission” Natasha says, without looking at you, focused on adjusting her widow bites. “So, if you really want to help, stay out of my way”

“That’s not the plan. I’m supposed to watch the south entrance”

“They’ll never even noticed I inflitrated the building”

“You’re not my boss. Fury is. And if he wants me to stand outside and watch the south entrance, then that is exacly what I’ll do, Natasha”

The redhead finally turns back to look at you, surprised. This is the first time she’s seen you upset. You’re walking past her, not bothering to look her way… have you always been this tall? It always seems like you’re trying to look small.

“Hey” Natasha tries to make you turn, grabbing your arm. She’s surprised by how strong you are. “You better not screw up. Or I’ll make sure you’re on desk duty for the rest of your career, Y/L/N”

“Oh, now that’s funny. I’ve been here far longer than you” you lean forward, whispering. Natasha tries to understand what you mean, her eyes scanning your features for a sign. Aware of how close you are to her, you take a step back and jump out the door, ignoring the ladder.

Ridiculous, to think that you (you!) are an incompetent agent.

Maybe Fury was wrong for asking you to do this.

You’re kicking the ground, huffing every few minutes, still fuming at Natasha’s words. All this time, you thought she didn’t like you and though it sucked, you could live with that. But saying you were bad at your job when it was the exact opposite makes you see red.

“Y/N?” Natasha says over the comms.

“Here” you answer.

“A little help”

Those three words make your stomach drop. Natasha asking for your help?

This must be life or death kind of bad.

“Tell me where you are” you ask, breaking into the building.

“Intelligence room. Surrounded by at least 20 guards”

“Use the vents to go out and grab one of their vehicles. I’ll distract them”

“You’re gonna take down 20 people all on your own?”

“Just do as I say, Romanoff”

It feels good to finally use all your strenght. You practically rip open a door that sets off an alarm, and then you throw a couple of grenades around.

Now, all eyes are on you.

Sure enough, it takes them a few minutes to come find you, but you’re ready to shoot at the first guards, and when the second wave has gone through their ammo, you prepare for hand to hand combat.

“I’m out but there are two individuals after me. Towards the east, away from the jet”

“Got it. Gentleman” you turn to the man. “Change of plans. Let me go or die. Whichever is fine by me”

They laugh, until you send one of them flying across the room, his neck snapping.

“Who’s next, ladies?”

—

How could this mission have gone so wrong? Now Natasha is navigating the snowy road on a motorcycle, being chased by two of the guards and dodging their bullets.

The cold air is stabbing her hands and face but she has to keep going. She is too far away to communicate with you, but hoped you had the good sense of going back to the jet.

She’d find a way to survive.

Or maybe not, as she notices a third motorcycle joining the chase.

Through the rearview mirror, she sees the new person approaching one of the guards. A fight ensues and an exchange of shots. Next thing Natasha saw was the motorcycles colliding.

“Y/N?” she tries the comms, hoping you aren’t stupid enough to be knocking down people. Whoever those two were, the force of the hit was enough to kill them.

And yet, one of them begins to run after Natasha and the man still chasing her. The figure is fast approaching, which is ridiculous, considering Natasha was going 150 miles per hour.

The brute is clearly scared, as his movements become more erratic, trying to get rid of Natasha and the mysterious figure at the same time. He shoots behind him and then at Natasha, getting to one of the tires in her bike.

She tries to keep the handle steady, but can’t turn on the curve ahead of her. Natasha is sent flying directly to a river, the cold water making her momentarily paralized. The currents confused her, and she couldn’t tell up from down. She swam and swam, until her arms were too tired.

She began to drift, and the last thing she saw was a shadow hovering above her.

—

“Natasha? Nat?” you plead, doing CPR as gently as you can. You don’t want to add cracked ribs to her list of injuries.

Finally, after what felt like hours but were only seconds, Natasha lunges forward, coughing and throwing up water. You hold her head, helping her until she can breathe again.

“I’m freezing” Natasha complains, looking around. “Did we lose them? How did you…” she then turns to you and widens her eyes. “You’re bleeding”

“Yeah, he shot me. It’ll stop in a second. And yes, we lost them. Though I’m sure HYDRA is sending more people to track us down. Come on” you stand up, offering your hand. Natasha takes it and is once again surpised by how strong you are.

Your body is also warmer than hers, even if you dived to rescue her. On pure instinct, Natasha comes closer, practically melting against your body heat.

“You’re hiding something” she states and you chuckle.

“Now’s not the time. Come on, I’ll carry you. There must be a safe house close to the river”

Natasha climbs to your back, and as if she weights nothing, you walk down the river, trusting she’ll keep an eye for any place to hide.

Sure enough, after ten minutes of walking, the redhead gets your attention and points at the right. There’s a small cottage hiding between some trees.

“Here” you say as you kick open the door, not bothering to find a key. You set Natasha down and go around the place, looking for blankets and anything that will make her warm.

“Did it stop bleeding?” she asks, looking at your abdomen. You nod, placing a blanket over her shoulder and checking for other injuries. “Are you a super soldier?”

You smile, thinking that Fury will be up in arms. But technically, you didn’t tell Natasha. She figured it out.

“Yes”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Who else knows?” Natasha says, pulling the blanket closer, as if it will help her cover from you as well. It’s clear she doesn’t trust you right now.

“Fury asked me to keep a low profile. He’s the only one that knows. I think he’s concerned about the integrity of SHIELD. You know him, keeping an ace up his sleeve”

“How long have you known him for?”

“Thirty years, give or take. My existence is top secret, and I spent some time away from the job. My father died, and he was the last person that I knew before everything, so… it was hard, I guess”

“I’m sorry”

“Me too. I didn’t like lying to you or pretending to be something I’m not”

Natasha kicks herself for not noticing sooner. It’s so glaringly obvious now that she has to roll her eyes at herself.

Your build, the fact that you never seem to be tired or catching your breath. Hell, the fact you never train with anyone else.

Natasha made an assumption and ran with it, instead of trying to see past it.

“Hey, you ok?” you ask, craddling her head in your hands. “Did you hit your head? Feel dizzy?”

“I’m just cold”

“We can’t start a fire” you regret, looking out. “Here” you pull her closer, your arms going around her shoulders. She tries to protest, but whatever she was about to say dies in her throat as soon as she feels how warm you are.

“This suit is all wet” she says, pulling away and taking it off. “Don’t look or I’ll kill you”

“Uh… what is going on?” your eyes dart to the ceiling, blushing. Then, you feel Natasha’s cold skin against you. “Jesus, Nat. You’re freezing”

You bury the both of you in more blankets, and feel her melting against your side. On instinct, your arms go around her waist and bring her closer, to which she responds by burying her face on the crook of your neck.

“So I can’t look but I can touch, huh?”

“Glad we understand each other”

—

“So…”

“So” Natasha says, landing the jet back home.

“Can we be friends? Friendly, at least?”

“No” she stands up, walking towards you. “Friends don’t look at each other the way you’ve been looking at me for the entire ride home”

“Can you blame me?” your eyes drift to her cleavage, remembering how she was practically naked and clinging to you as if her life depended on it.

“Wine and dine me, Y/L/N. And we’ll take it from there”

“Yes, Ma’am”

“Am I interrupting?” Fury shouts from the hangar.

“Yes” you say, but Natasha leaves, glaring at Fury on her way out.

“I’ve known you for thirty years and you still can’t keep it together around a pretty lady. And now I’m in trouble too” Fury says, clearly displeased.

“Hey, at least you don’t have that problem with Rogers, huh?”

“For now, Y/L/N. There’s always some trouble waiting around the courner”

You laugh and clap his back, leaving the jet. His plan may have failed, but you’re certainly not complaining.

Not when you have a hot date waiting for you.

[bluesidez]

Gym Rat Miguel Part 12

content warning: Miguel is very dramatic in this one, mentions of food

word count: 4k (SHOUTOUT TO MY BETA!! @slushycoookie 🩵)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

DISCLAIMER: This story is not canonical. 😒 Most, if not all, of the characters used are OOC. I literally can not stress this enough.

GymRat!Miguel who tries not to dwell on the fact that it’s been just about a month since he’s seen you. It’s the middle of the week and if he thinks about it too much, he’s going to go crazy.

It feels odd because you’re on the same campus as him. You’re not across the country. You’re not out of the country. You’re literally a short walk or drive away and neither of you have time to see each other.

He’s considering printing your pictures out and walking around with them like a forlorn lover looking for his lost soulmate. It feels like he’s back in his bedroom staring at your pictures for hours like a man at war aching for home.

He’s exhausted all of his options.

The couple-lunches have all been rain-checked, the weight of your workload trapping you in the Art building.

Your sleep schedule was terrible, if the late night TikToks and reels were anything to go by. He knew you had morning classes too so he could only assume you’ve had a few hours of sleep during the weeknights.

The weekends were for rest and he didn’t want to disrupt yours.

Your dorm tracked visitors which means he’d only have a few hours with you before curfew if you were even there.

GymRat!Miguel who misses you so bad he’s temporarily replaced his gym playlist for the one you gifted him.

His face is set hard, feet heavy as he sprints over a curved treadmill. After a few minutes he stops, takes a small break, and runs again.

Even the melodic and somber voice playing over a groovy piano couldn’t soothe his thoughts.

His heart rammed in his chest as sweat trickled down his face, his tank drenched and clinging to his chest.

Just a few more sprints to go.

GymRat!Miguel who slides the ear of his headphone off because Xina is standing in front of him, blocking his path.

“Anymore sprints and you’re going to pass out,” she hands him a towel.

“Maybe I want to,” Miguel grumbles, nabbing the towel and rubbing his face like someone spit on it.

Xina grabbed her ponytail and pinned it up, loose hair sticking to her neck. “Don’t say that. It’s not funny. I can only manage pulling your body to the entrance to the gym.”

Miguel snorted.

GymRat!Miguel who fills up the time that he used to spend with you to get to know his friends and meet others.

This meant having game nights with Peter and Ben. They were so close, not really, to convincing him to join their DND parties.

If he wasn’t with them, he was occasionally calling The Geek Squad and catching up. A Friendsgiving date was now tentatively on his calendar because of it.

Of course, his robotics team was still going steady. Aaron was interesting, if nothing else, and Margo was like the little sister he never had.

Then, there was checking up on Gabriel like a Tamagotchi. Was he eating ok? Did he need some money? Is he trapped in the subway? Did a rat eat him?

Gabriel had sent him a screenshot of his contact with his name being changed to “Mom #2.”

Miguel only scoffed and told Gabriel his name was going to get changed to “pain in my ass.”

The newest development, however, was Xina. Her transferring here felt like middle school when they used to be attached at the hip.

They had their programming class together two days out of the week, biweekly study sessions, and the occasional late night excursion.

It also explains why she’s eyeing him from the stairmaster while he heaves over the handles of the treadmill.

GymRat!Miguel who thanked Xina as she handed him his jug of water. He sat up from the bench to let her take a seat.

“So,” she started.

“I’m not helping you hack your professor’s dashboard. While you could do it, it’s not a good idea and quantum physics isn’t that-“

“It’s not that, you dick,” Xina pinched his side. “It’s you. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing is up with me.”

“Miguel.”

“Xina.”

“Now, you’re being a brat. Something is definitely wrong.”

Miguel picked at the peeling Game Over sticker on his bottle. He needed to tape it down or he’d lose it.

“I miss her.”

“Miss who? Your mom?”

“What? No. I miss my girlfriend.”

It was quiet between them, the sound of chatter and the clanking of equipment filled the white noise.

Xina tilted her head, “That bad?”

Miguel nods.

“When’s the last time you saw her?”

He takes a dramatic breath, “Our anniversary date. Last month. I feel…”

“Like you can’t function? Like it’s hard to think?”

“Is that pathetic?” Miguel winces. “I have a feeling you’re going to say that it is.”

“No, I don’t think that.”

Miguel pouts as he looks up. Xina shrugs and slides her hands on down her leggings.

“Remember the times I went boy crazy? All the times I came crying to you after they screwed me over, even when you already warned me they weren’t good guys? I think you deserve to be crazy about your girlfriend.”

“Thanks,” Miguel blinked. “You were way too nice to those first guys.”

“I learned though, didn’t I? I know a good guy when I see him, now,” Xina pushed at Miguel’s shoulders with hers.

“And now those self-defense lessons won’t go to waste, right?”

Xina snorted as she recalled the time she managed to flip Winston on his back at Miguel’s instruction.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Xina’s eyes grow in shock when he tells her how long he’s been dating you.

“Dang,” Xina stops in her tracks. “A year?”

Miguel puffs up his chest and stands a little straighter, a confident stride in his step, “One year and counting.”

“That’s,” Xina turns and waits for a car to go by. She readjusts her gym bag. “That’s awesome, Hare-Hare.”

GymRat!Miguel who feels the mood shift by the time he drops Xina back off. He’s not sure what’s brought it up, but now he’s nervous about upsetting her more.

He taps on the wheel, after he pulls into a park.

“You sure you don’t want me to get you anything? You don’t need to go anywhere?”

Xina unbuckles her seatbelt, “Nope. All good. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he watches her close the door before he can even finish. “See you.”

GymRat!Miguel who obliges when Xina texts him the next day to switch up their study session location.

Miguel wanted to keep the busy calm of the 1st floor of the library but Xina insisted on giving him a change of scenery.

“It’s good for you! You stare at the screen all day when you’re coding,” Xina slams Miguel’s car door to which he sneer at her for. “You need to look up and smell the coffee sometimes.”

“You just want a reason to not do your work.”

Xina turns around and walks backwards in front of Miguel, “And that’s completely fine. We should live a little.”

She trips over the edge of the sidewalk with a yelp and Miguel is quick to catch her, the panic on his face evident.

“See,” she grins as she pulls herself up by Miguel’s shoulders. “Living!”

GymRat!Miguel who lets Xina order for him while he finds a table.

The cafe was bright, white wood accenting the walls with vines and plants adorning the area. Salmon pink brought a pop of color to the sandy-looking tables and fairy lights hung in the corners of the room.

Miguel’s eyes grew as he saw the variety of desserts on display, his mouth itching to take a bite.

“No, no, no. Go away. I’ll pick something you’ll like,” Xina blocks Miguel’s lingering eyes.

Miguel clicks his teeth, “If it’s not good, I’m going to be really upset.”

“I doubt it.”

GymRat!Miguel who walks deeper into the cafe. He’s dodging ceiling plants left and right, but he’s sure that the best seats are in the furthest of the building.

He shuffles around a corner, eyes adjusting to the sun coming through window.

He blinks a few times and takes in the spacious area.

That’s when he sees you.

He walks fast, the strides of his steps wide.

The closer he gets, the stronger the smell of peaches builds. The sun was shining down like it granted Miguel one the greatest gifts of his life. Its rays danced across the spot that you're in.

He gets to your chair and pulled it out with ease, the sound disrupting the hushed corner.

A pen falls to the floor, voices are cut short, and arms are flailing but Miguel’s nose is buried deep into your neck.

Your arms tighten around his neck and your voice skips across his ears.

“I-” a kiss across your face, “missed you so much.” Miguel looks at you like you hold the stars in the sky within your palm.

“You scared the shit out of me, Miguel,” you say with no really malice in your voice. Your thumbs run across his cheeks, watching as he beams at you. You kiss him once or twice, heart fluttering as your feet dangle in the air.

“I hope there aren’t many people picking you up in the middle of establishments,” Miguel mumbled across your lips.

“Guys, there’s people staring at us,” a voice creeps in from the side of Miguel.

Miguel’s eyes follow it to see a deer-looking kid with hoodie pulled up over his ears.

“Who is this?”

GymRat!Miguel who is introduced to Miles, your freshman classmate that you’ve taken in.

He’s sitting across the table nodding along to you as you rave about Miles’ work. The entire time, his right hand didn’t leave your left one.

“So,” Miguel chimes in when there’s a pause. “Have you both been coming here a while?”

“Nah, I just dragged her out here recently. She never leaves the art building when a deadline is near. It’s kind of depressing-“

“You know, Miles.” You're holding back an eye roll. “There are times when you could just not talk.”

“No, actually tell me more,” Miguel insisted, attentive.

GymRat!Miguel who hurries to help a struggling Xina when she rounds the corner with a tray full of goodies.

A cinnamon roll, a lemon tart, a tall purple drink, and some warm tea is placed on the table while you and Miles clear the area.

You sit up straighter to watch Miguel pick up the tea cup and blow over it. “Tea? No milk with a pinch of coffee?”

“Amor…”

Xina looks over to his cup, “Did you want something else?”

“No, this is good, I haven’t had this in a while,” he takes a sip and hums while explaining to you. “I’ve been on this sweet drink kick since she let me try her frappe last year.”

“That’s rich because you always hated it when I got those.”

“To be fair, you downed like four of those in one day. I’m surprised your body didn’t go into shock.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Four in one day must have meant you were going through it.”

Xina smiles and nods her head, “Exactly. And I told him-”

“We’re not doing this,” Miguel grumbled and stabbed his fork into his roll. “Four was way too much and she was bouncing off the walls all day just to crash and throw up on my shoes.”

“I said I was sorry about that!”

GymRat!Miguel who cuts pieces of his dessert to feed to you. You look at him incredulously as he insists on giving you bite after bite.

“Is it good?” Miguel asks chewing his own piece. You nod and he grins, happy in the bubble he’s created.

When Xina reaches for his plate for a piece he slides it away with ease, a move he knows too well.

“Why can’t I have some? I bought it.”

“You didn’t even ask!”

“Neither did she!”

Miles leans over to you, “I feel like I’m watching a fight between me and my baby sister.”

Miguel is pushing Xina’s hands away from his plate while she laughs up a storm. You think that it does mirror something like Gabriel and Miguel’s relationship, but something about Miguel isn’t the same.

GymRat!Miguel who continues his Tom and Jerry act with Xina even when the food is gone.

They were bickering over some formula that you couldn’t begin to figure out by yourself. To Miguel, it’s easy. To Xina, the setup makes no sense.

“How did you survive Ivy League without me?” Miguel asks as he reaches over and erases an error on her page.

“Like I do anything else, with peace.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Miguel points his pencil at Xina, “you hate me and I am not needed for problems 4 through 10.”

“No!” she panics, pushing his pen back to the paper. “I need you to start this one. I don’t understand it.”

“We just did one like this, though. It’s just the imaginary number all over again.”

Xina groaned and slumped in her chair while Miguel just turned back to his on work.

GymRat!Miguel who peers up from his computer to watch you work. You eyebrows pinch as your wrist moves across the large sketchpad in front of you. Your hand is moving fast and you’re so focused. Miguel hasn’t seen you like this before. In your element.

He leans his head on his hand, cheek squished and staring at you like he’s never seen you, like you were something to be admired.

You were pretty today, a sweater with some cartoon on it and some jeans that flared out at the bottom. Your bunny necklace was dangling around your neck and your glasses were falling down your nose.

You push them back and a smudge of charcoal from moving Miles’ artwork gets on your cheek.

“Stare at her any harder and she might grow something freaky,” Miles whispers.

Miguel falters and grabs a napkin, leaning to wipe your cheek, “She has something on her face.”

GymRat!Miguel who tries to be even more discreet as he watches you fill up the page. It’s mesmerizing seeing what you come up with.

He’ll type a little bit then look at your sketches, he’ll click a few links then look at your face. Sometimes, you would catch him looking and smile at resulting in his heart picking up.

Occasionally, Miles would ask your opinion on something and you would give him pointers, the two of you discussing something about focal points and rule of threes.

Miguel just wanted to put his stuff up and listen to you all day.

“What are you working on?” Xina asks, her voice breaking the silence. She’s staring directly at your drawings, fingers tapping against her notebook.

You perk up and flip your pad around, “It’s some ideas for one of our bigger projects! The theme is reinventing a classic, so I’m thinking something like a spin on Lady Godiva with a haunted theme and darker palette. Or The Fallen Angel with a bird’s eye perspective of him on the ground.”

You took a breath and flipped the page, “And then there’s The Kiss which I wanted to actually do a glaze to really give it that ‘mosaic’ look.”

Miguel leaned in with Xina to take a closer look.

The sketch was exceptional to say the least. Miguel wasn’t too sure how the original painting looked, but your drawing detailed a woman wrapped in these angular, moving shapes. Her face was angled up and a far-off look adorned her features. To her right sat a man whose lips were on her neck and his attention solely on her.

It was soft, yet strong. How you managed to put so much intimacy onto a single page was beyond him.

The feeling of it was familiar and when he looked up at you, he knew.

Miguel opens his mouth, “It’s..”

“Boring.”

“Beautiful.”

He turns to Xina with a frown on his face as she flips back to the front page.

“I mean, I think one of the other two is better, you know? More of a twist on the originals. The last one feels safe.”

The table is quiet as Xina’s comment marinates. She’s flipping further into your book and Miguel promptly snatches it from her and closes it a bit harder than he needs to. Miles shifts in his seat, chewing on the straw of his drink.

“Can you explain why it feels safe to you?” your fingers pick at a nail.

She looks up, “Well, don’t you want to stand out? Out of the others, I don’t think this one is that unique.”

“The point isn’t to stand out,” Miles chimes in. “The assignment is about remixing a classic and all three of these do that pretty well.”

Your smile is small, “Thanks, Miles.”

“So which one do you think is better?” Xina asks.

“The last one,” both Miles and Miguel say.

“It carries the emotion of the original while also bringing more focus to couple rather than the abstracted cloth. You can see the love between them in a way that the original doesn’t have and it’s not even painted yet,” Miles talks with ease. “But! That’s just my opinion.”

“I think it’s powerful,” Miguel hums. “You should go with that one.”

You nod, thumbing over the corner of the pages.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Miles nearly fly out of the cafe.

Something about catching the bus to go see a friend perform.

“Poor thing,” you mumble. “He didn’t even buy the tickets yet.”

GymRat!Miguel who can almost see the stress coming off of you in waves the later it gets in the evening.

“Are you alright?” Miguel places his hand over yours.

“Yeah, I think I need a nap.”

“Need me to drive you back?”

“No, it’s fine. You need to drive Xina back.” You start to pack up. “I brought my car anyways.”

Miguel follows your movements, hands putting his laptop up as well.

He hurries to pull your chair out and you thank him with a quiet voice. He follows you from the table to the door to your car. The scene is almost comical the way he’s in your peripheral.

“Will I see you again soon?” Miguel leans on the hood of your car, body practically falling onto you in the driver’s seat. “We gotta set up a date.”

“I’ll see what I can do, baby,” you rub his face and kiss the kicked-puppy look off of his face. “I’ll text you once I get back.”

“Please.”

GymRat!Miguel who throws his backpack in the backseat and slumps over the wheel once he’s certain your car was down the road.

“What now?” Xina patted Miguel’s back. “You miss her again?”

Miguel just dug his head onto the horn, the effect alerting anyone within 50ft radius.

“Ok, ok,” Xina yanked him up by his shoulders only for him to drop back down again. She sighs and grabs the back of his head with a slight yank to his hair.

Miguel swats her hand away with a grit to his teeth and a pinch to his brows.

Xina only holds her hands up with a grin lining her lips, “Calm down.”

“You’re really annoying me today.”

Xina drops her hands and her smile falters. Miguel straightens up with an apology on the roof of his mouth before Xina picks back up with joy.

“What I think you need is an awesome rager for your birthday.”

“No.”

“Why not? It could be fun!”

“I’m all partied out until next year.”

“Not even with your friends? People from your department? A couple of classmates? The robo nerds?”

“That’s robo rockstars to you.”

Xina laughed and buckled her seatbelt.

“I think it could be great, seriously. We’re doing it.”

Miguel only groaned and turned on the ignition.

GymRat!Miguel who wanted to use his Sunday for relaxation, a cheat day, maybe a game or two with Gabriel, Peter, and Winston.

Instead, he’s lying on his bed listening to Xina rant about one of her roommates using the sink as a trash can.

“Like we have a ridiculously expensive trash can that’s less than a foot away from the sink. It’s a simple spin and drop.”

“Ok, I get this is really gross, but don’t you have other friends you could bother?”

Xina pauses, and points her finger at him, “Hey, I’m here to help you out. If I wasn’t here, who knows how down in the dumps you’d be.”

“This isn’t helping me.”

GymRat!Miguel who answers his phone while Xina has managed to pull Peter into a game of Overcooked on his Switch.

“Hey, Ma.”

“Miguel! How do I connect your father’s computer to the TV? He found a movie that we could watch but the screen is so small.”

“He found a movie but can’t connect cords?”

“Just answer the question, mijo.”

Miguel sits up, prepared to spend at least forty minutes trying to explain what an HDMI cord is.

“Yeah.”

Xina gasps, pauses the game leaving a displeased Peter, and hops into the corner of Miguel’s phone.

“Hi, Mrs. O’Hara!”

“Hola, mi dulce niña! Hace mucho que no te veo. ¿Que tal te ha ido?“ (Hello, my sweet girl! I haven’t seen you in a long time. How have you been?)

“Más o menos, pero me alegro de verte.” (So-so, but I’m happy to see you.)

“No, Xina! ¿Qué tienes?” (What’s wrong?)

Miguel just plopped the device in Xina’s hand, “I like how you both started a conversation on my phone.”

“We’ve got important things to discuss,” Xina waved him off while she and his mother continued to fawn over each other.

Miguel just slid off the bed and joined Peter.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t get his phone back until curfew hours are around the corner.

Xina and his mom discussed everything from reality TV to recipes to her time up north. Xina left happier than when she came in which Miguel didn’t mind. He just wished he could have had the room to himself.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t see your message until he’s about to go to sleep.

“Baby”

“Let’s do something together on your bday”

Miguel unpeeled his eyes and typed swiftly.

“YES”

“YEESSSS”

“Best birthday ever already”

“Someone’s excited”

“I haven’t even said what we’re doing yet”

“What are we doing”

“Tell me please”

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease”

“Mmm”

“No”

“It’s a secret 🙂‍↔️”

“I can wait”

“That you are”

“Sometimes”

“😗”

“But mi luz I think Xina is trying to plan something too”

“Oh”

“Should we raincheck then?”

“NOOOOOO!”

“I can do both”

“I’ll literally split myself in two”

“You don’t have to choose”

“My gift is small”

“I want you to have fun on your special day”

“Can you come to the party?”

“I don’t want to miss it but I’ll have to see”

“If anything it’ll be much later”

“As long as I get to see you I’ll be happy”

“Good night bebé”

“Night!”

"Love you"

“Love you more"

divider by: @plutism 🩵

a/n: I have no notes other than school is starting back up so my posting schedule will be even more irregular. 🤠 Please bear with me.

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[its-alittleobsessed]

Could you imagine being Dean Winchester and constantly sacrificing everything for everyone else. Your food, your freedom, your happiness, and your free will for everyone else and then this guy comes in. This man who isn’t really a man.

He comes in when you’re at your lowest low. When you have succumbed and given your life, your hopes, and your morals to hell and he reaches you and touches you and says. You deserve good things. Means, I will make sure you get good things.

And you don’t believe him at first but then he says, I rebelled, Im hunted. I did it, all of it, for you. And not so much later, I’m doing this for you, Dean. And few years down the line, he gives up an army for you. And his own life a few times. And it gets to the point where you—who prides themselves on never needing anything or believing in anything—start needing him. Start having faith in him.

He stays and you realize that you’ve never had to sacrifice anything for that. For him to stay.

And he—this man who literally fell from the heavens—sacrifices all of it, including heaven, for you to stay.

And it is such a stark contrast to what you’re used to. Such an insane flip of everything you’ve ever known, that you don’t know how to deal with it. You don’t understand, don’t know how to handle it, so you try pushing him away. You yell and say ugly things and, once, (though you didn’t mean to—weren’t entirely yourself) you even hit him. And still. He sees all that bad inside you and all the bad you’ve done and he still. Stays. He still tries to stay.

It messes with your head. Something happens inside of you and you think—you think you might love him.

Maybe it’s all the sacrifices he’s done and the fact that you haven’t been able to match him up to them. But maybe it’s his kindness, too. And he’s funny in a weird—no one gets his humor but you—kind of way. He’s strong and capable. A good listener.

He’s—he’s beautiful, too. Devastatingly so.

He’s good with kids. He gets you. Likes your music and starts singing along to Zepp when its just you two in the car. He’s so much more than what he’s given you (he says the same thing about you) and you don’t deserve him but he doesn’t seem to mind.

It’s the sacrifices that are messing with your head, but maybe it’s just him too. Maybe he’s just everything you’ve ever wanted.

He says you don’t have to sacrifice anything anymore. Not with him. And for the first time since you were a kid—it’s true.

[freedomfireflies]

Scream*

Summary: An extra for Mine* and Halloween Kinktober, Freaky Fun

The one where your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, plans out a Fall Day of Fun.

Scary movies included.

Word Count: 5.3k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, mask kink, Daddy kink, Ghostface reference, cum swapping, Harry being a little softie 😗

The narrow, empty halls of your apartment are quiet as you step through. The air cold and almost eerie, urging you forward in search of your boyfriend.

He’d left almost ten minutes ago to make some popcorn. A task that shouldn’t have taken more than a couple of minutes, but when he neglected to return, you felt your curiosity pique. 

Leaving the bedroom behind, you move from door to door, glancing around each corner as you call, “Har? You about done?”

Still, the apartment is quiet. Not even a rustle or cough to guide you. 

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand to a point, bristling with unease as you make your way to the kitchen. “Har?”

However, the small space is empty. Nothing but a bowl of freshly popped popcorn to greet you. It sits on the counter almost mockingly, offering you no insight as to where Harry might have disappeared to.

You begin to frown, now whirling around in search of clues. “Harry, this isn’t funny anymore. Okay, I’m cold, and I want you to come back to bed.”

Nothing.

And then…a door creaks. A shrill, sharp sound that makes you flinch as you turn toward the offending noise with a glare.

But all you find is a collection of coats hanging inside the small closet by the front door. 

You huff. “Harry, seriously. You got me, all right? I’m scared.”

Suddenly, you feel a large presence looming just behind you. Brushing up against your back as you gasp and spin on your heel.

You come face to face with a large, white mask. The eyes and mouth cut out in an exaggerated drip, as if mimicking a panicked scream.

And you’d be tempted to scream yourself if it weren’t for the familiar, woodsy notes of a cologne you’d recognize anywhere. 

“Tell me, mama…” comes a graveled, husky voice, “…do you like scary movies?”

 Playing along, you gasp quietly and begin to back away. Staring at the tall, masked man with terror until you suddenly hit something else hard and firm. Stopping you directly where you stand. 

It’s another chest, somehow just as sturdy and unrelenting as the first. This stranger is masked as well, the panicked expression almost condescending as it leers down at you. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Smirking, you offer them both a playful glare. “Okay, all right. Very funny, you two.”

For a moment, the two hooded figures merely stare at you before the first one rips off the mask, revealing that comforting head of curly, brown hair beneath.

“Come on, sugar…we wanna hear you scream,” Harry purrs, grinning deviously as Asher removes his hood as well.

“You wanna play psycho killer?” the man beside you hums, but he’s smiling as well, making you laugh.

“God, you guys are so annoying,” you huff, teasingly shoving at Asher with your elbow. “Where the hell did you get these stupid outfits, anyway?”

Harry’s fingers outstretch for your stomach, tugging on your shirt until you’re wrangled into his arms, face squished against his neck. “Don’t worry about it,” he whispers mischievously, nuzzling his nose along your forehead until you squeal. “That’s the fun of Halloween.”

You snort. “Sure. Who were you even supposed to be, anyway?”

He begins to lean back, eyes wide and expression shocked while you blink innocently.

“Ghostface,” Asher says, stepping closer. “From Scream?”

Glancing over the masks in their hands, you shrug. “Never saw it. Wasn’t really into horror movies growing up.”

“Aww, were you scared, sweet girl?” Harry murmurs, ghosting his lips along the shell of your ear. “Scared the big, bad, bogeyman was gonna get you?”

“Well, he kind of did,” you tease, glancing over your shoulder while he grins.

“If you wanna stab him, I won’t blame you,” Asher calls, tossing his mask toward the sofa. “I’ll even hand you the knife.”

You and Harry both laugh as Harry tightens his holds on your waist and tugs you back against his chest, chin tucked just over your shoulder. “Maybe that’s what we should do tonight, hm? Stay in, bake some cookies…maybe do a little screaming of our own?”

You smile through a scoff. “Sounds romantic.”

“It could be,” he coos, mouth reattaching to your neck as Asher grins. “Could get all cuddled on the couch…keep you warm on my lap…hold you when you get scared.”

And the idea is tantalizing, made even more enticing by the sound of his voice. “Guess that does sound nice.”

“Yeah? Promise I won’t let anything hurt you,” he breathes, the soft trickle of his exhale sending shivers down your spine. “Won’t let anything scare you. Keep you safe in my arms. Always.”

“Always,” you repeat in a soft sigh, heading rolling back against his shoulder. Succumbing to his seduction. 

You feel his large hand crawl up from your hip until it can rest over your chest. Cupping your tit firmly in his strong palm before kneading it tenderly. “Is that what you want, mama? Wanna stay here with me?”

You hum weakly, eyes glazing over as you look toward the second-in-command watching you by the kitchen.

Asher smiles softly, nodding once as it to reassure you. 

And you do feel reassured. So endlessly content to be in their care. To be loved on by the most wonderful man in the world. Bogeyman or not.

Then, Asher clears his throat. “All right, troublemakers. You two have fun,” he says while heading for the door. “Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone, yeah?”

 Confused, and slightly disappointed, you straighten up, watching as he walks down the hall. “Where…where are you going? You aren’t staying?”

He shakes his head. “The boss gave me the night off,” he tells you, tossing a smirk toward Harry. “And I figured you two could use an evening alone.” 

It’s a thoughtful gesture. One you aren’t quite sure how to feel about. After all, you’re rather used to him. His face, his voice, his comforting nature. You imagine you’ll be worried about him while he’s gone, even if he’s more than all right.

“Okay,” you finally answer, smiling gently to show him you understand. “But you are coming back, right?”

He grins. “Don’t I always?”

With that, he grabs his keys, throws you both a wink, and disappears from the apartment. 

Leaving you and Harry alone at last.

You turn around giddily and snake your arms around his neck. “All right, Mr. Bogeyman. What should we do first?”

He pretends to mull this over. “Hm…think I might have an idea.”

Suddenly, he’s bending down, grabbing onto your legs, and hoisting you over his shoulder. 

You squeal in confusion as he traps you in his hold and carries you to the sofa. Ignoring your playful swats to the back of his head until he can drop you down onto the soft cushions and chase after you.

He slots his body between your thighs, settling his hands beside your head as he gazes down at you. And there’s something fierce and animalistic in his eyes. Reverent, almost, and it makes your stomach flutter. 

“Har,” you gasp between breathless chuckles, “what the hell are you doing?”

He hums quietly before dipping down to brush his nose with yours. His soft, brown curls sweeping across your forehead. “I missed you.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, fighting a coy grin. “How could you miss me? I didn’t go anywhere.”

He’s quiet as he reaches for your mouth, allowing his thumb to sweep across your pouted lips tentatively. “Don’t care,” he whispers. “Still missed you. Missed all of you.”

“Yeah?” Your voice betrays you. Quiet and wavering with a rush of adoration you can’t seem to tame.

“Mhm. Wanna make up for it.”

“Is that so?” You arch from the couch until your chest can knock against his. Subtly pleading with him to touch you. “How?”

He allows his finger to slip between your lips. Fitting in your mouth almost perfectly as you circle your tongue around the warm digit and hum gratefully. “You tell me.”

You take a moment to think, sucking on his thumb with fervor while he watches you with an intent focus. Seemingly enthralled by every inch of you, especially the way you become so submissive to his taste.

“Kind of like what you said earlier,” you admit quietly. “Think it’d be fun to have a movie night with you.”

“Yeah?” He begins to smile. “Thought you didn’t like scary movies.”

You shrug. “No. But I like you.”

His expression softens as he slides his finger from your mouth.

“Besides, we never get to play house,” you point out. “Might be fun, just this once. Do some baking, snuggle up on the couch. Stay in like an old married couple.”

“Yeah,” he repeats, a bit fainter this time before he sighs. “You know I’d marry you in a heartbeat, mama. Give you everything you ever wanted. The white picket fence and the little house in the suburbs. Work a 9 to 5 and have tons of babies and debt.”

You laugh, knees squeezing his hips. “I know, but you know I don’t want that. Not right now. I’m happy with how things are.”

“Really?” He doesn’t sound convinced. “You’re really okay with a life of being moved, and taken, and hidden, and threatened?”

You glance over his face, reaching up to brush at the dark hairs of his brows. “I am okay with any life…as long as I get to live it with you.”

He releases a strained breath, surging forward until he can rest his forehead against yours. “Oh, sweet girl. Always, always, always.”

And you know he means it.

You kiss him. Press your hands to his cheeks and kiss him so hard, you both feel dizzy. 

You’d stay here forever, you decide. Right here, just kissing him. Give up everything; eating, breathing, sleeping…just to remain in his arms.

His heartbeat against yours.

“All right,” he finally murmurs, releasing you in an effort to return the air to your lungs. “Let’s make those cookies, hm?”

He wrestles you up and chases you to the kitchen. Retrieving the ingredients while you get the oven ready and prep your space.

You’re a good team. Even when baking, and you feel an abundance of adoration for the man handing you balls of dough. 

You laugh as he flicks some flour at your cheek, and he smirks when you whip him with the edge of your hand towel. 

Once the cookies have been pulled from the oven and placed onto the counter to cool, Harry takes your hand, and leads you toward the bedroom. 

He pulls you down onto the bed and helps you get situated under the covers before flipping on the television. Scrolling through the horror section until he can find the one he’s looking for.

With a coy smile, he glances over. “Are you sure?”

“S’just a movie,” you say. “How bad can it be?”

He grins a bit wider and hits, “Play.”

A phone rings before the camera pans to a young Drew Barrymore. She sports a young, blonde bob and white sweater, and her voice is as bright as a ray of sunshine.

Harry is instantly enthralled, staring at the screen with wide, entertained eyes as his dimple pops free.

He mouths along with the dialogue as though he’s seen the movie at least a hundred times. And soon, you find yourself watching him more than the screen. The way he lights up with certain jump scares, or scoffs when a particular character is on screen.

It’s rare he gets this excited. In fact, the only thing he tends to show this much passion about…is you.

And he’s so happy right now. So relaxed and carefree. Content to be in this bed with you, his arm around your shoulder as you rest your head on his chest. Humming at the way you trail your fingers along the dips in his ribs.

Before you know it, you’re crawling over his thighs, and settling on his lap. Hands around the back of his neck, lips against his. Moving with a synchronicity that can’t be taught. Only felt. 

The movie is long forgotten as his tongue laces with yours, fingers digging into your hips to trap you against him. Groaning softly at the way you nip his bottom lip and move your kisses down his neck.

“Sugar,” he exhales, lashes fluttering shut as he quickly puts the film on pause. “What are you doing, hm?”

“What does it look like?”

He smirks and tightens his grip. “Thought you wanted to watch the movie.”

“And now I’d rather watch you.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.”

He brings a hand to your hair, brushing the strands behind your ear before cupping your cheek. “And what would you like to watch, mama?”

You can think of a plethora of dirty responses. Ones that would surely make his jaw clench before he gave you everything you ever asked for. 

Instead, you find yourself struck with another idea. 

Your fingers slip beneath his shirt, grazing his soft, warm stomach that quivers beneath your touch. “Might have had an idea.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, kissing across the curve of his shoulder while your palms meet his chest. You linger over his pecs before squeezing them, brushing your thumbs over his nipples.

He sucks in a quiet breath, and you feel his eyes staring straight through you.

“Want you…to go back…and put on that mask,” you whisper, dragging your lips up toward his ear. “And then…I want you…to fuck me.”

His breath hitches. “Really?”

Another nod. “S’not so scary when it’s you. It’s even kind of…sexy.”

His hand returns to your hair, squeezing the back of your neck gently. “Sugar, are you sure? I don’t ever want you to associate pleasure with genuine fear. Not after everything you’ve been through.”

You lean back to catch his eye, smiling softly. “I’m sure. That’s the whole point. When I know it’s you, and I know I’m safe…it’s so much hotter.”

He studies you closely, almost as though unconvinced. “We’ll still use our system, yes? Yellow to slow down, red to stop.”

“Yes,” you agree, wiggling a bit over his lap to feel the way he hardens beneath his jeans. “Please, Har?”

His pupils grow hazy with lust – blown out and wildly addicted. But he hesitates, nonetheless. “Need you to promise me, mama. Need to know you’re gonna communicate with me the whole time.”

“I will,” you repeat eagerly. “I will, I promise. Just…just go put it on. Please?”

A moment passes as he sighs and caresses your face once more. Almost as though wanting one last bit of tenderness. “All right, sweet girl,” he murmurs, pulling you down to kiss you. “Anything you want.”

You giggle against his lips.

With a pat to your thigh, he clears his throat and nods his chin at you. “I’ll go grab it and put it on. But when I come back to this room, I want you in nothing but your panties, and sitting on the edge of the bed. Is that understood?”

You feel your body ache with a need that can’t be tamed, stomach folding in on itself as you nod and scramble off his lap. “Yes, Daddy.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Good girl. I’ll be right back.”

With that, he stands, and makes his way for the other room. Leaving you to obey his request.

You tug your shirt up and over your head before discarding it somewhere on the floor. Your sweatpants are next, flicked from your ankles toward the chair in the corner before you brush your hair back, and take a deep breath.

You can feel the way your thighs clench together. The damp spot already growing beneath the cotton fabric of your underwear as you crawl toward the end of the bed. Waiting almost anxiously for him to return.

You appreciate that he doesn’t judge you for your strange request. And you absolutely love him for being willing to play along. Even if it means you won’t get to see his pretty face.

You hear his footsteps echoing between the hall as he approaches. Making your heart leap into your throat before a dark shadow slips into the room.

The mask is familiar to you now. The white, ghostly expression surrounded by the black hood. You can’t see anything behind the eyes. Can’t even see his pretty, pink lips. But you know it’s him. Can tell just from the way his body moves.

You straighten up, hands in your lap as the masked man seems to study you.

His head cocks before you hear a recognizable hum. “Obeyed me very well, darling, didn’t you?”

You nod fervently and tug your lip between your teeth. “Yes, Mr. Ghostface. Always.”

You hear him chuckle, perhaps amused with the nickname. And when he doesn’t correct you or scold you, you assume he likes it. “Is this what you wanted, mama? Wanted me to fuck you…just like this?”

He’s moving closer. A slow stride as if stalking prey, and your insides feel fuzzy as you swallow. “Yes.”

Another hum before he comes to a stop just in front of you, glancing down while a gloved hand reaches out to brush along your jaw. “My sweet girl. You’re trembling. S’that how bad you need it?”

He’s right. You can hardly get a coherent response out as you push yourself into his touch, silently begging for more.

He releases your face and lets his leather-covered fingertips find your nipple. He tweaks it – hard. Enough to elicit a gasp and have you arching up into his palm.

The mask leers down. Offering you no other inclination as to how he’s feeling besides the obvious condescension you can hear in his voice.

“Promised to take care of you,” he murmurs, groping at your chest a moment more before releasing you. “So that’s what I’m gonna do. Take my cock out.”

To accompany his instruction, he nods down toward his hips. Encouraging your hands to travel toward his dark jeans as you begin to pry them open.

You’re nearly drooling as you slip your delicate hands into his briefs to pull him free. Instantly whimpering deep from the back of your throat as you scoot closer and slide your palm up toward his leaking tip.

You hear a subtle hiss from behind the ghostly face before he’s stepping closer. Pushing himself into you.

Then, he nods once. “Go ahead, mama.”

Without needing further instruction, you surge forward, and drag your tongue along the underside of him. Tastebuds coated with a familiar taste that reminds you of certain safety and lust. 

You use the tricks you know he enjoys the most. Licking at the dark veins before moving up and forming your lips around him. Sucking just enough to tease him before trailing your mouth down the length. Making his hands flex beside him.

Then, one of those hands travels to your head. Sprawling out across the back to keep you close and offer you a bit of comfort and encouragement. Not hard enough to hurt you or take away your freedom, but enough to excite you. Make you eager for his approval.

You take him into your mouth. Simpering at the way he groans and slightly twitches against your tongue. 

His gloved fingers disappear into your roots. And they tug to remind you of his appreciation as you swallow around him. Allowing him to hit the back of your throat before you draw back.

“Shit,” comes his gravely reply. Making a dark wave roll straight toward your cunt. “That’s it. S’fucking perfect, sugar.”

The praise spurs you on. Makes your head spin and your legs squeeze together. You need it – need more of it, need all of it. You need to make him proud, make him cum. Make him lose his goddamn mind because of the way you treat his body.

You go faster, suck harder. Bob your head just enough to make his entire body tense with an immeasurable type of pleasure. One that makes him moan your name before bucking himself into your mouth.

You can’t help but gag when he reaches the back, and he’s quick to pull back. Providing you a moment to breathe.

“Sorry, mama,” he hisses, moving to swipe his thumb across your lips. Collecting the bit of drool that drips from your mouth onto his glove. “M’sorry. I’ll be more gentle, I promise.”

But you shake your head. “No, I…I like it. Like that you feel good.”

And you can’t see it, but you imagine he’s smiling. “Is that right, dirty girl?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He seems to groan to himself before he guides his cock back to your tongue. “Then make me feel good, darling.”

You do. Give him everything you have. Hollow your cheeks around his rather large cock and suck until you both see stars. You take as much of him as you can, almost until your nose reaches his stomach. But you can’t quite fit him all the way, and he seems amused by your efforts.

“It’s all right, mama,” he calls, squeezing your neck once. “Know it’s a lot. Already being so good for me. Don’t push yourself, okay?”

You frown, settling for keeping your focus on his tip and letting your palms brush at his balls.

When he notices your pout, he tugs on you again. “What did I say? Need you to talk to me or we stop.”

You pop off long enough to answer, “I’m okay, Mr. Ghostface. Just wish I could do more.”

But you hear a sigh before he steps closer and guides your chin up. “Believe me, sweet girl, you do more than enough. M’already close and I’m nowhere near through with you yet.”

You smile at this. “No?”

The masked face shakes. “No. You wanted me to fuck you, darling, and that’s what I plan to do.”

You drop your hands to your thighs, nails curling into the skin as if to brace yourself. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He begins to squeeze your jaw. “So why don’t you crawl back for me. And spread your legs, let me see.”

Within an instant, you’re moving toward the pillows. Settling down onto the blankets as your thighs slowly pull apart to reveal your covered cunt.

And in this moment, you wish you could see his face. The blissful expression he always seems to wear when he gets a good look at you. He loves the way you drip for him. The way your little clit gets swollen with need as your legs shake and your stomach quivers.

And he also happens to love this particular pair of panties. The tiny, pink ribbon that sits on the front. The way it taunts him and calls to him. The way it’s almost innocent in nature despite what lies beneath.

The masked man begins to follow after you. Hands and knees burying deep in the duvet as his head cocks and his attention seems to fall to your cunt.

“Pretty,” he mumbles, barely loud enough for you to hear. His hand outstretches, thumb finding the ribbon before he begins to drag it down. Pressing hard into your pussy to feel the dips and warmth leading toward your hole. “Oh, sugar. Did I get you all worked up?”

You nod weakly as you watch his finger land over the obvious wet spot along the fabric. Whimpering gently at the faux sympathy in his voice.

“Must hurt, hm?” he coos, beginning to circle the area with a bit more determination. “To be so untouched? So desperate?”

You nod quicker this time, making a louder, more pitiful noise. “Please, Daddy. Need you to make it better.”

A sadistic chuckle slips beneath the mask before he’s reaching for the lacy waistband. “All right. Gonna make it better.”

He slips the material down your legs and tosses them into the room behind him. Discarding them quickly before laying his palms against your thighs and pressing them into the bed. Keeping them open and spread exactly the way he likes. 

The dark leather around his large hands makes you swallow. You quite like the feel and the sight of it. Knowing that it’s Harry behind the dark façade. And knowing exactly how much he loves you.

“Please, Mr. Ghostface,” you beg quietly – sweetly. “Need you to fuck me.”

His touch constricts, digging into the soft skin of your legs before he’s reaching for his cock. “I will, sugar. Gonna make you scream.”

He scoots forward, guiding the crown toward the weeping hole between your thighs. Prodding at it once, then twice to coat the tip and make sure you’re ready.

But you’ve become a mess of whines and pathetic gasps. His name and a string of pleas that follow before he smacks his hand down your leg to silence you.

“Patience,” he scolds, rubbing the glove over the mark he left. “Daddy’s gonna do it on his own time, understood?”

You pout again but nod. Accepting his condition as you reach for your chest to squeeze your tits in your hands. 

And even without being able to see his eyes, you know he’s watching. Enthralled and mesmerized by the way you arch into your own touch and moan softly.

You pinch your nipples before groping at the flesh a time or two more. Lashes fluttering shut in blissful ecstasy while the space between your legs grows wetter.

You hear him curse before he begins to push in. Recapturing your attention and claiming your pleasure as his own.

And it’s at this moment that you wish you hadn’t asked him to put on that stupid mask. Because you want to kiss him, more than anything. Want to see his face, see his beautiful lips as he drops them open with a low groan. Want to nip at his jaw and leave marks down his neck. Want to tangle your fingers in his curls and tug until he whimpers your name.

Instead, you stare at the face of a ghost above you. Which isn’t so bad. After all, it’s still wildly arousing as he sinks into your cunt with a practiced precision.

Instantly, you toss your legs around his hips and hook your ankles near his ass. Pulling him in deeper while he sucks in a sharp breath and bottoms out.

You hold onto each other for only a moment. The cold face of the mask brushing against your cheek as you shiver and subsequently clench around him.

“Sugar,” he warns, but it’s mixed with a lewd moan. “M’not gonna last long if you keep doing that.”

“Sorry,” you gasp, although you’re anything but. “Just feel really good.”

You feel a hand on your ribcage, squeezing as though to show some sort of affection. “Good,” he murmurs before pulling back and pushing back in. “Cause it’s all for you, mama.”

You arch from the bed as he begins fucking into you, hard and slow. Hitting spots inside you that are so deep, you think you feel your stomach flip. It’s incredible the way he uses your body. The way he knows it, works it. Works himself into it. Plunging himself inside your pussy until the sounds of your arousal echo between your ears.

You glance down to watch, loving the way you can see your drip on his cock, the way it coats your thighs, coats the blanket beneath. Glistening in the soft light of the room and from the TV in the corner. 

He’s grunting from the force, slamming his hips into yours while you gasp out his name. 

Leather-clad fingers land on your chest. Effortlessly brushing your own hands out of the way as he takes you in his palm and harshly gropes at your sensitive breast.

It looks pretty in the glove. Dangerous, in fact. The slight sting makes your eyes roll back and your body shudders with pleasure while Harry begins to pick up the pace. Fucking into you quicker as he begins to chase his release.

Suddenly, he’s tugging on one of your legs to return it to the bed. Once again pressing it hard into the mattress at an open, spread angle to find that position he wants.

You whine as you’re manhandled, bucking up from the rush of euphoria when he finds a particularly pleasurable spot. 

“Oh, sweet girl,” he exhales, drawing back almost all the way before sinking in to the hilt. “S’a lot, yeah?”

Your head moves up and down wordlessly.

“I know,” he hums, rhythm beginning to get sloppy. Uncoordinated and rushed, like he’s nearing his release. “Shit, I know, mama. M’gonna cum…and then m’gonna make you cum. All fucking night—”

You cry out at another wave of something sweet before he’s grunting in your ear and twitching inside your soft walls. “Har…Harry, please—”

“I know,” he repeats, gritting the words between clenched teeth. “I know, I’ve got you. Always got you—”

“Please, please, please—”

“M’right here. You’re okay. Won’t stop. Never gonna stop—”

“Daddy—”

“Fuck, yes. S’a good girl, keep still. Just like that—”

He cums. Suddenly and almost without much warning, and it’s strangely addictive. Spilling inside of you until you squirm almost violently at the sensation. Chasing after the need as he empties himself into you before pulling back.

You’re surprised by the abrupt shift, wondering almost sadly why he’s leaving you so quickly when he’s just barely finished.

But the answer soon comes in the form of his hand reaching up toward the mask to rip it from his face. Revealing his flushed cheeks and blown-out pupils as he tosses it aside and surges forward.

His mouth attaches to your pussy before you can even speak. Sucking and licking and drenching his chin in both of your juices. 

It’s smeared across his mouth and nose and cheek like a painting. Making such a beautiful face even that much more alluring.

“Har,” you whimper, reaching for the curls now at your disposal. They’re slightly warm and sweaty from being covered, but it feels good. Almost erotic, and you pull until he moans against your cunt. “Fucking missed you—”

“Yeah?” His grin is devilish as he glances up just long enough to meet your eye. “Good.”

He nips at your clit before swirling his tongue around it and sucking it into his mouth. He presses and pulls until your head rolls back and your focus finds the ceiling. Your thighs burn from the way you thrash, and your toes are curling deep into the covers. 

Nothing can stop you. Nothing can stop him. It’s everything, everywhere, all at once. A rush of endorphins and adrenaline and pleasure and lust and love and adoration.

And you cum harder than you think you ever have. You lose time. Lose almost every one of your senses. You can’t see or hear anything beyond soft murmurs of Harry’s voice, calling to you. Saying something you can’t decipher.

You scream out his name until your throat is raw. And it goes for what feels like hours. Perhaps it’s only seconds, but it feels immeasurably longer than that. 

He holds you through every second. Hands on your hips to keep you against his tongue while he kitten-licks at your pussy until you’re gasping for him to stop. 

He does, but only after he’s decided he’s finished. That you’ve given him all you can and that he’s cleaned up his mess. 

Then, he rises up, and comes to you. Pressing his mouth to yours and kissing you harder than he has all day. You taste everything, but you mostly taste him. And the way he loves you.

He only stops once. Leaning back to catch your eye, brush his thumb across your cheek, and whisper, 

“Fucking love it when you scream.”

~ Mine Masterlist

~ Freaky Fun Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

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[venmondiese]

HIDDEN TOUCHES

summary: Aemond decides another fruitful payment for his eye, which he has been craving a long time. in that, he makes lucerys watch how he does it.

request from my lovely @qyburnsghost

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Rhaena Targaryen. warnings: 18+ MDNI, DARK THEMES, targcest, oral (f receiving), exhibisionsm, p in v sex, forced voyeurism, rhaena x lucerys (mentioned), they are all of age bc of my mental health, no luc*mond -- ye olde enemies to lovers

note: this def got me out my comfort zone, so here it comes!! aemond x rhaena must be one of my fav ships probably. For my sake, and bc i won't write such things, all of the people involved are of age, and i didn't picture luke as his actor because he was very much a child. i assure you that luke is NOT envolved on the sex more than watching TT so... enjoy reading!!

“Prince Aemond”

Aemond turned to the hallway to see, and his only good eye took the image of her. Pompous, with her pink dress and her braids prettily decorated with some pink ribbons. She looked ridiculously pink.

“Lady Rhaena.”

He, on the other hand, was all dark. His attire black from head to bottom, except the small gold details of the embroidery of a dragon on his clothes. His boots were imponent every time he walked around, and his eyepatch was no different colour. 

The only similarity between both was the silver hair and the purple eyes.

“I see you and your…” he searches for a word, mockingly walking closer, his arms behind his back. “Kin, have come back to my home.” He says, tilting his head as he looks down at her. 

Rhaena looks up to him, and her hands are clasped to the front. He has to admit how feminine she is; he has heard about her. How knights fought for her favour, and made songs for her, in hopes for her to like them.

“We are one kin after all, aren’t we?”

“I suppose you can call yourself that” he says smugly. 

Rhaena looks at him with impatience. He was being rude on purpose.

“And how is my mother’s dragon?” she asks, trying to fight him back.

“Oh? You mean my dragon?” 

“My mother’s” she repeats, stubbornly.

“Not anymore, is it?” He snickers, a smirk on his lips as he raises his eyebrows mockingly. It makes her fume.

“Because it was stolen”

“Because your mother died” he corrects her. “Nothing can belong to the dead, can it?” 

“I suppose not” she says, faking a smile. “Even though it was stolen. You wouldn’t be able to see those things, I suppose. My bad” 

She sees how it ticks him off. How his one eye twitches in place and his jaw gets tense. 

“You can call it however you want, my Lady. I did not steal a legitimate right to no one. Dragons do not work like that. Not like titles” He says. “Such as Driftmark’s” He adds.

Rhaena breathes in and presses her lips together. He is taunting her on purpose, because Luke's claim has been questioned, for how unvalyrian he looks. He looks none of it. 

“And you’ll carry his bastard offspring” he murmurs, as he asks, as he intends to walk away.

Rhaena looks at him at how indecent he is. She blinks in disbelief at his debauchery. 

“Excuse me?” her voice stops him in his tracks, and he turns slowly, having a certain air of smugness to him.

“You two have been promised to each other since you were two years of age. It is no surprise” Aemond shrugs it off with a smirk. “Imagine it. What a shame your late mother’s wish to make you Lady of Driftmark has to come by marrying you off a Strong man” 

“He is not-”

“Isn’t he?” 

No one else is around. Rhaena knows. She loves Luke, she really does. He is kind and funny. But he isn’t… appealing to her romantically. He was her stepbrother, and her future husband. 

“He will be a good Lord of the Tiles. A good husband too” she defends him, weakly, looking at Aemond “A Lady like me only desires for someone who shall be kind and tender. If he is so, I’d love him”.

“If it helps you sleep at night, then… believe so” Aemond shrugs, looking down at her. She wasn’t aware when they got too close, to the extent that she could practically hear his scent and hear his breathing. 

Aemond was gallardly handsome, in a different way than she thought Jacaerys was. She always met handsome men in search of her favour, just for after it, having to console Luke about it, that she wasn’t going to entertain the idea of any potential lovers. They were promised to each other since they were children, and she knew that. Is not that she hates him, she is just.. Used to him. To know that in their marriage, she will provide heirs. 

She often thinks that they married her to him because they want to assure Velaryon blood on Driftmark, the one in her blood that lacks his.

“Why doesn’t your father care of giving you a proper dragon rather than to marry you?”

“I will ride Vhagar soon enough” her stubborn voice comes, as if it was a threat that only used to amuse him even more, as his chest inflates and he smirks widens. 

“You imagine such a silly thing, cousin, but again, if it helps you sleep at night… Who am I to judge?” he says, smugly as he smirks. “Though I do not need to imagine a better life, for I am not the future breed mare of a bastard”

Rhaena opens her eyes in disgust at his lewdness, boldness and open rude comment. She feels enraged, being seen just like that. Like an animal to breed, and later to be discarded, put aside as if nothing. 

Rhaena moves her hand to slap him across his cheek, a loud smack on his right cheek that didn’t even move his face away. If anything, it hurt her wrist to do that, yet she hoped her gold rings could do some damage. 

His face barely moves, and his lips curl into an amused smile as he feels the stinging slap on her face. His only eye turns to her, and before she can move her hand down, he grabs her wrist.

Even if she pulls, his grip is strong, and makes her arm go stiff. She tries to pull away, but he pulls her into his chest abruptly, to lower his head and capture her lips on a forceful kiss. Her chest is pressed against his, and she is certainly sure he is stepping on her dress. His other hand moves to the lower part of her back, forcing her to be still as he kisses her. 

She hasn’t kissed anyone, just a stable boy once, but just because Baela dared her to once, but she never counted that. Still, she doesn’t know if a kiss should feel so messy as Aemond kisses her. She never thought she’d enjoy a kiss with someone who calls her a whore. 

Aemond drags her as if she doesn’t weigh a thing, holding her by the wrist and making her legs follow his long steps to an isolated, dark place of the keep. She guesses that Aemond would know each little corner of his own home.  

She doesn’t exactly know what his weird little room is, but Aemond closes the door, and he kisses her again, deeply, as if he needed her as the air he breathes. 

“Married to a Lord” He scoffs between kisses, as his hands grip her waist. “You deserve to be a real Targaryen princess…” he trails off as he moves to kiss her neck, and she whimpers softly. 

She is not sure that he knows that his wife won’t be a princess, but the thought of him wanting to give her everything he has to offer is rather… oddly sweet. 

Rhaena feels his lips lowering to her breasts, and she has to blush at the lewdness, the debauchery of it. She wasn’t the most devoted follower to the faith, yet she feels embarrassed by those feelings, new, lustful feelings. She might pray for forgiveness later.

Aemond is rarely tender, she thinks. She thought he would be… forceful. But he holds her as if she is porcelain.  

Tender, but hungry. There is a certain pull to him; like an invisible string that held him back, but a burning desire within to give in to his whims. He looks up at her; as if for a moment to take in her features, as if trying to look some sort of disgust in her face. 

It is her who kisses him back, as he presses her against one of the wood tables around the room, and she holds his jaw with her both hands, her long nails softly scratching the begging of his jaw. She didn’t know how to kiss as passionately as he did, but she did her best. 

He appreciates the kiss, as his hands move to slowly pull up softly her dress, accommodating between her legs, too close as her pink dress gets pulled up and her breath gets stuck on her throat as she pulls back to watch him. He looked at her, as she could feel his hardness pressing insistently on her clothed pussy. 

“Aemond-”

“Indulge me” he says, in a raspy tone. 

It is not a plea, to her it sounded as if he is asking for permission to keep going, but before she can process the question, or answer it, he just kisses her again, moving his hands in her undergarments, up to her thigh more and more. He asked for permission or just informed her? She didn’t know, but it prepared her for whatever he wanted.

“Too good to be the breed of a bastard” he murmurs against his lips, before he accommodates her atop of the wood table, and he kneels in front of her. 

“Aemond-” 

He doesn’t seem to hear her, and if he does, he truly doesn’t care. 

She tries to move the skirts of her dress to look at him, trying to move the fabric, which she regrets using such a puffy dress. She feels his cold hands moving her underpants, and when she can see his face between all of her skirts, he just leans in to taste her pussy.

The gasp that leaves her mouth sounds more like a sob and she tries to not fall as she sits on the edge, and her hands grip the edge as Aemond moves his tongue all the way up, devouring her, taking in her taste on his wicked tongue.

“Divine” he murmurs against her cunt, diving his tongue into her again.

She squirms slightly, her body accepting the foreign touch, but she was not used to it. It was overwhelming, in a sense. She didn’t know what to do with herself.

“Aemond…” she repeats her name again, she can’t possibly form another word.

“What? Can’t handle a little oral from your cousin?” he murmurs, and she can practically hear the smirk on his lips, as if this amused him greatly. “To think that all knights fight for your favour, yet here you are… with me…” he murmurs, with certain pride for acquiring such a price for himself. 

He was possessive about something he did not possess, since Rhaena was promised long before she could even think. 

“You are so…” She tries to say, but his tongue swipes across her clit, long and flat, and so thorough. He loved how easily he could rile her up, how quickly he could push her to the edge.

As his left hand, holding her thigh apart from the other, his right hand found her entrance as he pulled his mouth back a bit, shoving two fingers inside her cunt at once, pumping them in and out, as he licked her clit. He cared not if she liked it or not, because he knew she would. 

She had to bite her hand to stop the moans, little whimpers reached his ears, which was nothing but a delight. 

His fingers began to move in a steady, driving rhythm, and he licked at her pussy with slow, broad strokes. His fingers curled inside her, seeking that velvety spot that would make her little whimpers turn into scandalous moans. 

“Aemond, stop it, I think I-” Rhaena says, as the boiling feeling in her abdomen starts to make her legs try to close shut, because her cunt was receiving so much stimulation that she was starting to moan louder and more desperate for a something she was yet to experimentate. 

He does not, because he knows what she does not; he knows how close she is to cum, to soak his mouth and he would delight himself in her taste even after she came hard on his tongue. He holds her in place, caring not if she squeezes his head between her legs, because he will not stop until she cums. 

He hears her loud moans, that she tries to hide covering her mouth, her legs tremble, and he knows that she is feeling overwhelmed. She hears the little curse she says as she cums, hard on his mouth. To be fair, he has known women who cum a lot, but Rhaena… She was a new found delight of his.

“Hm, who would have said you were a squirter?” He murmurs, his face shines with the wetness, and she has to look away due to the lewdness. Good gods, what has she done? “Next time you’ll cum in my cock”

–

Those words are impregnated in her brain as she sits across the other end of the table at supper. She was beside Lucerys, as he chats with Jace, but she was drinking wine and sharing soft spoken talks with her stepmother. 

Lucerys had kindness in him, true. He was.. Nice. But not… appealing to her. He tended to be like a child, and she cringed a bit at that; they were old now, at marrying age, and one had to leave the child-like reassurance in the past. And Lucerys did not.

“He is looking at me” Lucerys says in a murmur to her, which makes Rhaena look at him, out of her thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Aemond”

Rhaena blinks a bit, her legs squeezing together at the name. She longed for his wicked tongue lapping her folds again. 

She turns her head to watch him, in front, at the other end of the long table at the family supper. He had no expression on his face, as if one of boredom and annoyance. When her eyes meet his, she notices the slight clench on his jaw.

“He is not” she says. Imbecile. She thinks, resenting him a bit. How can he be so clueless?

He is looking at me. She wants to say, smugly even, something so unlike her. Her heart beats fast as she swallows the fact. He was looking at her. 

Hearing Lucerys giggles as the pig is served, gets her clueless a bit, but she remembers the story they told her; the pink dread. That’s why Aemond said that night  ‘Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride’ 

It stirred her wrong. The same boy who mocked a Targaryen prince about not having a dragon, many times until he stood up to them, was about to marry her… a dragonless Targaryen. 

Lucerys never treated her wrong, Rhaenyra raised her boys right. But it made her uncomfortable, thinking about it. She resented him, for being able to do things, to choose, to ride a dragon, when he was… not worthy. 

The rest of the dinner is a blurry image, Aemond mocking her stepbrothers, and Jace trying to defend them. Jace was dreamy, she thought, he was everything a lady like her would like. But Aemond? The bones of her needed him, and just by having one taste of him, and not him whole. 

She hated herself for it. For resenting Luke, for wanting Aemond. As she walked on the halls, after her father sent them to bed, Baela went to Jacaerys, but she didn’t want to go to Luke. Why couldn’t she be like before? She accepted her fate, she is okay with it. Now it looks… like crumbs from what she could have.  

“Rhaena” It’s Aemond’s voice, from the end of the stairs. She turns, and walks closer, frowning a bit. Her chambers were not on the same floor of those in the royal family, she was merely an extension of it.

“Prince Aemond”

He smirks, his chest almost inflates with delight at her words. 

“I suppose you had a nice supper?”

“You were unnecessarily cruel” She states, still defending them in the kindness of her heart. 

“One of my many charming traits.” He was shrugging to it, as his hand wraps her wrists. “Come on.”

She finds herself again being dragged to his chambers, and no guards are close to the hall of his rooms.  Weird she thinks. 

He closes the door of his chambers, which seem cold and uninviting to her, as if no one ever lived here. She can see his bed on one side, and the lonely récamier next to the fire, as he guided her quickly to sit there, not allowing her a peak of his full chambers. 

“I have a surprise for you.” He says softly, a small smirk as he moves to serve her a cup of wine on the table. Her head tilts, not understanding a bit. “It’s more like a… proof of my loyalty.”

Rhaena frowns, what could he even give her? Jewels? Dresses? She takes the cup he gives her, and he goes back to serve himself another. She looks at the other side of the room, thinking about what kind of gift Aemond could give…

“Lucerys” She says, standing up immediately, her voice surprised, and her heart balls to her stomach, as she sees her betrothed, tied to a chair, and his mouth muffled as he tries to move the unmovable chair. 

He doesn’t seem hurt, or bleeding, just desperate to get out of the chair.

“Aemond, why would you do such a thing?” She cries, as she leaves her cup somewhere to be quick to untie him. 

“I told you” Aemond says, grabbing her elbow, and not allowing her to help him. “A gift”

Rhaena feels distressed, she looks at the dagger on Aemond’s waist, little dragon details full of sapphires, very sharp and very much him. She hesitates, and she fears that he’ll take his debt, an eye for an eye. Lucerys is at his mercy, and she wouldn’t be able to fight against him, she knows it. 

“Aemond, this is madness. Untie him” she says, her voice kind, and even if she resents the boy, she loves him, as a brother. “He has done…” She stops herself before finishing, because saying that ‘he has done nothing wrong’ would throw Aemond into madness. “Take it out on me”

Aemond raises his eyebrow. Lucerys’ voice comes as a muffled scream, but she doesn’t care.

“I was there too. I have the blood of the dragon, and Velaryon blood too…” She says, standing up for him. 

Aemond looks at her, and he walks closer. She can hear Lucerys’ sounds coming out as desperate, as if he was afraid that he will harm her. But she knows better than him. 

“Silly girl” He says smirking, patronisingly to her. “You really don’t have a clue of the world..”

Rhaena stands still, looking at her as she blinks a bit confused. She clenches her fists, and she follows him as he sits on the récamier, standing in front of him. Surely, she daydreamed about him? Yes. Did she want him to ravish her and fuck her? Surely. Did she hope that he’ll steal her away from a betrothal that by the passing second seems dreadful? No doubts. But to make Lucerys suffer from it… she was far too kind and sweet to do so.

“Stop this madness” She tries to plead with him.

“Madness? Perhaps” Aemond says as he takes his coat off, and he grabs his dagger, pointing it to her, as he sits calmly. “But also intensely pleasurable. For me, at least” He shrugs, and smirks. “Take off your underpants” 

Rhaena is taken aback, as she steps back looking at him. She turns to watch Luke, who shakes his head from side to side, as Aemond moves his dagger to press it against the fabric of her dress. 

“It is not a petition” He hurries her. 

Rhaena looks at the dagger. “But don’t damage my dress” she says moving back, as she leans to fetch the end of her dress to take her under pants off. It amuses Aemond greatly how she cares for such womanly things as dresses. It is endearing. 

Rhaena extends to him her underpants, and he inspects them, smirking. He stands up, and moves to Lucerys, smugly. “She is truly a vixen.” He says, leaving the underpants on his lap. “You had her hidden, not so well, hm?”

Rhaena feels embarrassed, and more ashamed because it turns her on. It was a torture to her, between duty and her most hidden desires. Lucerys was the boy she was promised to, but Aemond was the man she craved. 

“You won’t hurt him?” She asks as he sits back, and he sighs, moving to undo his breeches. 

“I’ll spare him… for now. Won’t hurt him, physically, at least.” He says grabbing her waist and his other hand moving to her skirts to pull them up. “I’ll just make him watch as I take what’s mine. How a true dragon takes what they want.” He says smugly, forcing her to sit on his lap, her back pressed against his chest as he moves his breeches for his cock to be free. 

He slides his hands, taking the edge of her dress to push it all the way up to her waist, in which Rhaena has to grab his knees so as not to fall. He has the same idea, as with one hand he holds her skirts up, and the other moves to spread her legs apart, revealing her glistening cunt to the onlooker. 

“Isn’t her cunt so…” Aemond trails off, and Rhaena understands what he is doing, showing her intimacy to Luke as if mocking him for having what he doesn’t. 

“Aemond” Rhaena murmurs in a whine, embarrassed as she tries to press her legs together, shy to be seen so exposed. 

The oldest prince grins at her embarrassment, leaning to kiss the side of her neck. “Shy, cousin? Don’t be, you are beautiful… enough to arouse anyone just with a look” he says amused, his voice almost a low purr. He glances at Lucerys, his chin pressing on her left shoulder, and he glances over at the bulge growing on his pants. Pathetic, he thinks. “Just like it does to him, no doubt. Watching you like this must be quite… stimulating.” He trails off, letting his fingers  down on her body, to her cunt. 

He savoured Rhaena’s discomfort, and the Strong’s arousal. He leaves soft kisses on her neck, and exposed shoulder, as he moves her body to his delight.

“Your maidenhood..” He murmurs, looking at her “Shall be mine”

The feel of Aemond’s cock sliding on her cunt is a slight discomfort at the beginning, as she was not used to feeling something pushing insistently inside. She is wet, and her mouth falls open as she has to shut her eyes, wanton sounds leaving her.

“Fucking you right in front of him. While he watches and wishes he could be in my place” He says smugly, his voice tense due to the way her cunt clenched around his cock inside, as if she was made to take him in every way. “You take my cock like the good girl you are.”

It was mortifying for her first time being in front of her betrothed, instead with him, on her wedding night, with him as her husband, not as a viewer. She opens her eyes to look at him ,and she cannot understand his face. He is somewhat mortified, panting as he still fights against the bounds. She can see the erection on his pants, and she feels ashamed. But the feeling does not last long as Aemond’s cock is thrusting in her insides and forcing her to leave the shame away, replacing it with pure lust. 

The thick length of his cock grinds deliciously in her walls, Aemond loves the feeling of her cunt just trying to milk him, as she moans loudly, for the bastard to hear. He holds both of her wrists on her back making her bounce on his cock to fuck herself. He smiles, her dress surely would be wrinkled, and he takes the chance to slap her ass as he turns his gaze down to watch his dick disappearing on her cunt. 

“Watch closely, Strong. This is what a real man looks like. This is what it means to truly claim a woman” Aemond smirks, as his cock went in and out of her, his cock slick with her juices. “See how hard he is from watching us. Knowing that if you truly liked him, your maidenhood would have been his. But it is not, and you won’t be his”

There is a certain air to Aemond that Rhaena craves. She finds herself nodding along with every word he says, his cock inside barely leaves her any room to think. She just needs him, deeper, harder, more and more.

“You will cum, pretty girl?” Aemond asks softly, voice more tender when referring to her. He loved to praise her, he realised. She was such a pretty thing to admire, it was inevitable. He reached around to rub Rhaena’s clit, his thumb rolling the sensitive nub as he pushed his cock deep into her cunt. “Cum all over yourself, darling”

Maybe it’s the endearing name or the overwhelming sensation of his cock so deep,slamming against her cervix and his balls smacking against her ass, but she moans wantonly as she cums, her purple eyes rolling back in her head as her orgasm hit,  the sweat on her body makes her feel more overwhelmed, and spilling her release all over his thrusting cock. 

“Take it, fucking take it…” He groans at the sensation of her tight cunt clenching around his cock, using her pleasure to spur himself on. “Such a good girl…” 

Aemond buries himself to the hilt inside Rhaena, his cock pulsing as he pours his seed deep into her womb. He smirks to himself, as his forehead rests against her back as they pant, the Strong bastard long forgotten by both. 

As his softening cock slips out of her used cunt, he knows one thing; she is his now. He puts his cock back to his pants, and he finishes the last remnants of the wine, leaving Rhaena panting on the chair. 

He watches his pathetic nephew, still struggling against his restraints, and gazing at Rhaena, as if wanting to check her security. Aemond rolls his eye before taking his dagger once again, which makes the little shit struggle even more. 

If Aemond wanted his eye, he would have got it before Rhaena came in. He instead cuts the bounds and grabs the neck of his shirt, pulling him to walk out the door as he takes off the restraint on his mouth. 

“You will— Regret this” Lucerys says panting, trying to gain his composure as Aemond pushes him out of his chambers.

“Yeah, yeah, I surely will, bastard” He says patronisingly, kicking him out of his chambers. “Deal with your pathetic cock first” He added before closing the door on his face.

He is quick to return to Rhaena’s side, holding her into his arms as he lays in the récamier, with her cuddling atop of him. 

“I didn’t ruin your dress…” He murmurs, and she faintly smiles. 

“Thank you” Rhaena murmurs softly. 

Aemond hesitates, his hand caressing her back. He is not good with words, never has been.

“You can… stay” He says softly. “Vhagar is big enough for both” He adds “And she puts eggs from time to time, and… One of her eggs can be yours” He says softly “Like your sister has Moondancer from Vhagar, maybe another egg will be for you…” 

Rhaena looks at him, and is a bit confused by his change of demeanour. “Thank you” she murmurs softly, nuzzling to his embrace. “For caring”

“I know how it feels” he adds quietly, still caressing her back. “To be trapped too”

Rhaena hesitates a bit, not sure if to reveal her heart’s secrets to him, but at this moment, when Luke is probably snitching on them, she trusts in him. 

“I just… They are good boys. But… Driftmark… and such… Baela would be an excellent lady. She was born to do that.”

Aemond nods softly “And you?”

“I am not worthy in my father’s eyes.”

He can sense Rhaena’s loneliness and he hugs her tighter. “You are more than worthy to me. Perhaps, and only perhaps, I will die very soon to leave Vhagar to you”

Rhaena chuckles a bit, and she looks at him with her soft, tender purple eyes. “Don’t. Tomorrow you and I will ride on her, go to Oldtown and escape from our families. My father will be absolutely mad”

Aemond smirks at the prospect, and he takes the challenge.

“I hope your silly dresses don’t take too much space” He jokes, and she giggles a bit. 

They talk for a bit more, Rhaena feels exhausted, but she forces her eyes to stay open and listen to Aemond respond to her questions. After some time, he insists on getting up, and at least for her to have a decent nightgown if she was sleeping around here. 

The banging on his door makes him know who it is. 

“Open the door, you one-eyed bastard!” It’s Daemon's voice, which Aemond feels not so bothered about.

“We can leave through the passageway if you want” He says to Rhaena, while she shakes her head, she has to face her fears.

She walks silent, as she hears the voices of her family on the other side, and she opens the door all by herself. She watches his father, as if he was ready to depart King’s landing, alongside with Rhaenyra wearing her coat, and Lucerys behind her. 

“Are you okay, Rhaena?” Rhaenyra asks, but Daemon interrupts her.

“I am going to kill him-”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Rhaena says softly, looking at the three of them. “I am fine”

Aemond walks behind her, and smirks. “Sister. Uncle, nephew. Don’t you want to enter?” He asks mockingly, crossing his arms.

Daemon seems furious, but Rhaenyra stops her, trying to calm her husband from killing Aemond.

“What has gotten into you?” Daemon asks, “Giving yourself as if-”

“Daemon” Rhaenyra stops him, trying to hold him back, and Lucerys looks at Rhaena, with… something she can’t decipher. Disappointment? Disgusted? She can’t understand the face, and it shames her a bit to hurt him like that, but it’s not like she regrets it. 

“He forced her” Lucerys corrected Daemon, still defending Rhaena’s honour. “I saw it”

Rhaena cringes, and she can see that so does Rhaenyra. She bites her lower lip as if considering her words, before speaking up again “He didn’t force me to anything.”

Rhaenyra looks at her, and she tries to get the best of the situation. Daemon seems more upset, but Rhaenyra shushes him.

“Well, we can always go back to Drag-”

“I’d say she rather enjoyed it” Aemond speaks up in a smug tone. 

The four of them turn to look at him, as he so smugly shrugs. 

“You bastard!” Daemon says before jumping to hit Aemond in the face, which the younger prince takes no interest in fighting, despises the hard hits on his face.

It’s Rhaenyra with the help of Arryk that helps them to separate (or to separate Daemon from Aemond), as she reprimands him for making the situation much worse. No one else about Aemond and Rhaena’s affair, and he was taking out any mean to talk them out of it, to remind Rhaena of her duties as a future bride to Lucerys, instead, Daemon entertains the amusement in which Aemond seems to relish himself into into torturing them all.

“You will marry Lucerys Velaryon” Daemon tells her daughter, pointing his index finger at her, not leaving room for her to protest. 

“I challenge prince Lucerys Velaryon to a duel, then” Aemond says, standing up with no problem, despising his bloody cheekbone. “For Lady Rhaena Targaryen’s hand in marriage”

Rhaenyra’s face is pale, out of any colour that she might have, and so does Lucerys. Rhaena looks at him, shaking her head. Sure, she wanted to get out of the betrothal, but to murder Lucerys? She won’t be part of it.

“Aemond, don’t”

“I’ll kill you before you put another finger on my daughter”

“Gladly, uncle. Only after I kill the little lord Strong”

"Do you dare to duel for my daughter's hand with her betrothed? What kind of-"

"Didn't you do the same with mum? You killed her betrothed in a duel" Rhaena says frowning, and Daemon gets quiet to that.

Rhaenyra looks at Lucerys, horrified at the prospect of it. He doesn’t seem particularly thrilled or prepared for it either, and there was nothing he could do to possibly win in a duel with Aemond. 

Rhaena tries to make Aemond understand the reason, to do anything but.

“Just break the betrothal” Rhaena says to Rhaenyra. “I am not a maiden, and Aemond will take me as his.”

Aemond sees the face of his half sister, she finds herself in an impossible situation. He turns to the little bastard pup, shitting himself behind his mum, unable to do any harm to him ever again, and he will make sure of it. That it hurts once he stabs him in the eye. 

Her sweet Rhaena has such a pure heart, and his hand finds her to feel the warmth of her kindness, that he sometimes lacks. But they'll manage, he knows that.

[cheri-2047]

Hi! Nice to meet u! I read ur req is open, I hope u don't mind if I send one. Fluff headcanons thingy with Wriothesley, Lyney x gn/fem reader (separately). Reader doesn't talk that much in public unless it's important, but actually very talkative in private. I hope this doesn't go against ur rules, thanks!

Sure honey <3 thank you for requesting! I’ll just write headcanons for these since I can’t think of a specific thing for now I hope that’s okay 😭 this isn’t as long as any of my other thingies and I’m so so sorry :(((

Fun fact: this was the first time I’ve ever searched up what a GN reader is 💀

Lyney and Wriothesley x quiet GN reader

WARNINGS: none! Just fluff

CHARACTERS: wriothesley, lyney

LYNEY:

Lyney is 100% a yapper. He feels bad sometimes that he talks too much and you’re quiet but sometimes he feels bad that he keeps talking. That is until you explain how you’re like and he completely understands and feels better.

In private, hee be a really good listener, he would listen attentively and make a bunch of funny comments and just adore you in general. Lyney always listens to you, just as much as you listen to him

In public, if ure uncomfy, he would talk for you (ex, order food for you). Lyney says he would gladly do anything for you as long as you’re comfy.

Lyney would do anything to make you happy, and in order to do that, he makes you as comfy as possible. Want to go home? He will take you. Want anything? He’ll get it for you.

When he first saw you talk a lot in public, he was a bit shocked, but ended up going along with it. On the inside he was really happy that he saw you talk, but he didn’t push it anymore on other occasions.

At times when you’re silent (and if lyney is quiet at that time too) he just holds your hand and squeezes it from time to time.

After awhile, both of you get used to it. You both don’t end up feeling bad for over sharing (when in reality you’re really not over sharing at all) and you two are happy and content <3

WRIOTHESLEY:

Wriothsley completely understood how you were like even at first. He didn’t really mind it at all and even found it amusing by how much your mind changed when you reach home

He loves hearing your voice. Wriothesley loves it when you talk a lot.

In public, he doesn’t mind that you don’t talk much. He respects you and wouldn’t push you to anything you’re uncomfortable with

I think he would talk but definitely not as much as lyney. Wriothesly is a bit more quiet but there are times when he has a really interesting story to tell you and he tells it to you really fast and excited

At first, when he saw you talk a lot he was amused once more. Wriothesley saw how you only “took charge” when you needed to in public and he found it nice that he heard your voice even there.

This man would not EVER push you to talk a lot. Even if he sees you talk in public, he won’t be pushy about it an just respect you overall.

When you and wriothesley are alone and both quiet, he would press a kiss to your forehead from time to time.

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Dandelion (A Villain Story)

You stub your toe and the mind control breaks.

Your power snaps from the shock and the hundred or so clones you’d been controlling disappear with a pop! You hold your breath as the steel they’d been carrying clangs loudly in the cavernous room. You’re the only one in this sector but that was loud. If by some miracle nobody heard that, surely your abductor will notice you’re free any moment now—

Devil Eyes doesn’t notice.

You cover your mouth with both hands, pressing so hard that your teeth creak. There’s a hysterical giggle struggling to claw its way up your throat. You’ve been shot, stabbed, and beaten, but this is what it takes to break Devil Eyes’ control? Your pinky toe throbbing after kicking a stray steel beam?

Fuck, that’s funny.

You breathe in through your nose slowly. Only when your lungs hurt worse than your toe from how much air you’re holding in them do you release your mouth. You breathe out in six quick bursts. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

You’re free.

Holy shit, you’re free! How long has it been? Six months? Eight? You know it’s not summer anymore, but Devil Eyes has had you working in the depths of his lair for weeks now and you’ve lost track of time. That’s fine though, you’re pretty sure you’re still in Arizona and there’s sunshine even in winter. Your breath hitches in your chest. The sun! Oh, the sun, you want to see the sun so bad and now you can because you’re free--

Don’t cry. Don’t make a sound. Assess. Act.

Escape.

You’re in the delivery sector. There are piles of steel everywhere you look, tossed this way and that so that it looks like a giant failed game of Jenga. Your clones were carrying the beams from the truck in the docking bay to the appropriate facilities deeper into the mountain when they disappeared. Ha! Fat chance Devil Eyes finishes construction without you around. You’re the only reason this mountain lair is even possible. It would serve him right to spend so long stealing materials only to have nobody around to do the hard work for him.

That’s why I need to escape.

Spite is what keeps you moving. The truck driver is gone. He’s a real minion of Devil Eyes, not a brainwashed one like you. That means he’s probably in the living sector enjoying the benefits of willing servitude. Benefits like soda. And beds. And those little pillow mints they give you at hotels.

Your mouth waters.

Don’t you dare go back for a pillow mint, you scold yourself. It doesn’t matter how bad you’ve been craving one, forced to set them out and never allowed to eat one. You have the chance to escape and you’re going to take it.

You climb into the cab of the truck. The driver took his keys with him, but you’re a villain. You have the engine turning over in less than five minutes, the bed of the truck detached within three, the seat and mirrors adjusted in less than one.

Ten minutes after stubbing your toe, you’re driving out of the mountain and into the deepest of Arizona nights. Nobody sounds any alarms. Nobody starts shooting at you. How could they? You were the one manning the graveyard shift in the security room. You were the one at the turrets. You were the one doing it all while Devils Eyes and his crew slept.

The stars stretch above you. You crack the windows of the truck and suck in the fresh air greedily. Your eyes burn.

Not yet, you think. Your eyes smart and you bite your lip until the lump in your throat goes away. Not yet. As a villain, you’ve always made it a point not to let your guard down until the job is done.

This job isn’t anywhere near done.

----------,

Getting into one of Hero Force’s headquarters is either the best thing to happen to a villain or the worst.

Breaking into one is a badge of honor, especially if you’re able to get away with a trophy. Information, a hostage, even a paperclip. Anything that proves you were there and they couldn’t stop you from doing whatever you wanted.

Getting taken into Headquarters is a nightmare. It means you’ve been caught and caught good. Getting taken into Headquarters means the end of a masked villain’s career. Hero Force knows who you are from that point on and, even if you escape, they’re not going to lose track of you any time soon.

You’re not sure what walking into one is. A disgrace? An act of stupidity?

You park your truck illegally and push both doors open at the same time just a little after sunrise.

“Hello,” you say to the receptionist. He’s wearing the characteristic black mask of Hero Force personnel and you wait until his brown eyes shift from his computer to you before continuing. "I’ve been held captive by the villain Devil Eyes for the last six or eight months and I’d like to talk to somebody about it.”

“Pardon?” the receptionist asks. His fingers are frozen over his keyboard. “You—pardon?”

“I don’t know what month it is,” you say. Abruptly you realize you’re not wearing a mask. A chill shudders down your spine. Devil Eyes knows what you look like and now Hero Force does too. You are so fucked, you’re going to need to flee the country-- Think about it later. “So I don’t know how long I was brainwashed for.”

“Brainwashed?”

“By Devil Eyes,” you say. When the receptionist continues to stare at you, you shift your weight from side to side. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but is there someone higher up I could speak to?”

It turns out there is. The receptionist is only too happy to call them for you and things move very quickly after that.

They take you to the fifth floor of headquarters and into a very nice conference room. The receptionist brings you coffee, water, and a fresh change of clothes. He doesn’t bring you pillow mints when you ask but makes up for it by fishing out a crushed granola bar from the inner pocket of his blazer.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” you say. Crumbs tumble from your lips and onto the oak table. “Fuck.” You lick your fingers and pick them up as best you can, scooping them into your mouth as you go.

“We’ll have something delivered,” he says, eyes skittering away from you. “It’ll probably arrive before Arctic—”

“No, it won’t.”

You twist in your seat, granola bar stuffed in your cheeks. Arctic is standing in the doorway in full costume, sans cape. Her slate grey eyes study you a moment before she steps into the room. Rag Doll, her second in command, follows silently behind. Unlike his boss, he’s half in his civvies– jeans and long-sleeved Henley that shows off the extra joints in his arms and legs. His patchwork mask does little to hide the bags under his eyes.

“Ma’am,” the receptionist says. He’s flustered in the presence of the A-rank heroes, you can see it. He sketches out a bow and then seems to think better of it, jerking ramrod straight and shuffling towards the door. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Arctic watches him go with one pale brow raised.

As soon as the door shuts, Rag Doll sighs. “It’s his first day.”

“He didn’t get their name, did not relay a proper history, and called me ma’am,” Arctic says in her heavy drawl. She frowns and smooths her white hair away from her face. “That’s three strikes.”

“Wait until he watches all the HR videos before you start handing out strikes.”

“He should have finished those before he was stationed at the front door.” Arctic strides around the table and takes the seat at the head without looking at you. She pulls out a notebook from her utility belt, flipping to a blank page, and then finally looks at you. “Do you need another granola bar?”

Oh. She was stalling until you could finish eating. A smile comes to your face unbidden. “I missed your southern charm, Arctic.”

Arctic drops her pen.

Rag Doll, halfway into his seat, freezes. He stares at you with wide eyes. “Virus?”

Oh yeah. You used to compliment Arctic’s Southern manners a lot before Devil Eyes got you. “Long time no see.”

“Long time—it’s been a year,” Rag Doll says incredulously.

“You look awful,” Arctic says without a bit of manners to be found.

“A year?” The room swims. Since the wallpaper kind of reminds you of bile anyway it’s no surprise what happens next. “Fuck.”

You throw up.

------------------.

“I was going on the straight and narrow,” you’re saying an hour later. You’re in a different conference room, this one on the third floor. The walls are a nice, soothing blue and there’s a vanilla air freshener plugged into the wall. “I really was.”

“You’ve been with Devil Eyes this whole time?” Rag Doll asks. He’s seated across from you, leaning forward onto his elbows. He’d stopped Arctic from putting the power suppressors on you. She agreed when he pointed out they might kill you in your fragile state. “There’s never been any indication he can hold someone that long.”

“Well, he can,” you say. You wordlessly accept the tea Arctic slides across the table. The heat of it shocks you in the best way. You drink greedily, relishing in the warmth as it slides down your throat. “And not just one person. He could hold me and five of my clones at first. Then ten. Then twenty.”

“But your clones are you,” Arctic says. She refuses to sit, standing behind Rag Doll. She crosses her arms. “It’s impressive he was able to hold you that long, but it was just you.”

“Impressive?” You laugh without humor. “I’m not exactly impressed.”

“She didn’t mean anything by it,” Rag Doll says. He looks over his shoulder at Arctic and, when she nods, he continues. “It’s just that, from what we know about your powers, holding you and your clones would be the same as holding one person.”

“It’s not,” you say. You’re giving away too much information about your powers, but you don’t care. Devil Eyes needs to be stopped. “Every one of my clones is an exact replica of me. An exact autonomous replica of me. Otherwise, I’d have to be some sort of supercomputer to control them all.”

“You’re not?” Rag Doll asks. His voice is light, like it used to be during your fights. Teasing banter.

You’re not in the mood for banter.

“No,” you say shortly. “If I was, I wouldn’t have been caught.”

Rag Doll sobers. “How did that happen?”

“I was getting out of the game,” you say. You wipe the back of your mouth. The tea is sitting better than the granola bar, but you’re still feeling unsteady. You clear your throat. “I should have just disappeared, but I didn’t. I let a few of the locals know I was going to be leaving. Stupid of me. Stupider when I agreed to come to the goodbye party they were throwing.”

“Locals?” Arctic asks. Her voice is smooth and cold. “Which locals?”

You shrug. “Dreadwatt. The Ice Twins were in town back then, they said they’d stop by.” Your lip curls. “Devil Eyes.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very fun party,” Rag Doll says.

“No.” You didn’t think so either. But how do you explain that they were the only people who thought your low-level villainy meant something? Heroes and civilians just found your antics annoying. Villains found your schemes clever. “It was a way to mark the end of an era.”

“What were you going to do after?” Rag Doll asks.

Were. You can’t get mad at the past tense. You’re sitting in Hero Headquarters without a mask. Arctic has probably memorized every single one of your freckles. Even if she hasn’t, Devil Eyes knows your face. There’s no way you get to retire to an honest life now. “I was going to be a librarian.”

Rag Doll perks up. “You like to read? What genre?”

“Mostly science fiction.”

“Me too! Have you read—”

“Devil Eyes got you at the party?” Arctic interrupts. She shoots Rag Doll a chiding look and claims the seat next to him. She fixes you with her chilling gaze. “That right?”

“Yeah.” You don’t remember the moment it happened. That’s the scariest part. It took you weeks to be able to feel Devil Eyes’ control. Until then, everything still felt like your choice. “He had me start construction on his lair about a month after that. He was sure his control would hold by then.”

That makes Arctic lean forward. “His new lair? You’ve been there?”

You grin bitterly. “I’m the one who dug it out.”

“Dug it out? It’s underground?”

“Some of it.”

“Where?” Arctic flips open her notepad. “We know it’s east of the city and, judging by the truck you arrived in, it’s in the deep desert. Can you give us coordinates?”

“I’m pretty good with stars,” you say. Even now you can remember the exact position of them the moment you left the mountain. “I know exactly where it is.”

Arctic can’t hide the impatience in her voice. “Where?”

“Not so fast,” you say. You lean back, crossing your arms. Your heart pounds against your ribs. “I want a deal.”

Arctic snarls. “You don’t understand what’s at stake—”

Rag Doll puts a hand on her arm, quieting her. He smiles at you. “Now, Virus, you know—”

“Don’t call me that.”

Rag Doll blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t call me Virus,” you say. Your skin itches and you dig your nails into your arms to keep from scratching. Devil Eyes called you Virus. “I retired. I’m not Virus.”

“Then what would you like us to call you?”

Your mind scatters. “I don’t know. Not that.”

“Alright,” Rag Doll says gently. He waits a moment and, when you don’t offer up anything else, says, "You know we can't offer immunity agreements. Foresight would have to be here for that and we don’t have time for him to fly down from New York. What I can do—”

“I don’t want immunity,” you interrupt.

“You don’t?”

“You don’t?” Arctic echoes. She frowns, seemingly shaking off her impatience. “You’ll still be charged with your previous crimes, Viru—sorry. You’ll still be charged with your previous crimes.”

“That’s fine.” It’s not. You rub your arms, fingertips worrying at the half moon indents your nails bit into your skin. It’s the price you’re willing to pay to take down Devil Eyes. “That’s fine. I’ll pay for those. But I want to be there when you raid his lair. I want to be there when you catch him.”

“That’s too dangerous,” Rag Doll says immediately. He shakes his head. “Arctic and I both have mental defenses, but you don’t. We know your power and now, knowing the extent of it, we can’t risk having him turn you again. It’d be like facing an army—”

“You’ll need an army against him,” you interrupt again. You press a hand against your chest. “I know how many minions he has. I know the layout. I know the location. You need me.”

“But if he gains control of you again—”

“He can only control twenty of me,” you say. You’re feverish and jittery so you stand. You pound your hand against your chest. “Only twenty, so I’ll be a hundred of me. I’ll be so many that those he manages to ensnare won’t stand a chance against the rest. I can do it. I can be more than he can handle. He got the jump on me but he won’t again.”

Arctic furrows her brow. “A hundred? You can make that many clones?”

You laugh darkly. You weren’t a good villain. Your goals were always too small. Robbing a grocery store, taking over the local theater, stealing the water from the water tower. They don’t know what you can do. “I can do more than you know. I can do more than Devil Eyes knows.”

Silence fills the room as the heroes think. The air freshener sprays a new puff of vanilla.

Rag Doll clears his throat. “If we let you come—”

“Rag Doll!”

“—if ,” Rag Doll emphasizes to Arctic. To you he says, “You won’t kill anyone?”

Of course I’m going to— “No,” you say. You cross your fingers under the table. “It’s just….” You look down at the wood grain. You say in a small voice, “I had to escape alone.”

Whatever protest Arctic was about to voice dies on her lips. “There were others there?” Her gaze sharpens, a bloodhound on a scent. “Who? Where?”

Aha. You guessed right. Arctic is patient. Arctic is polite. She’s been neither of those things during this conversation. What she has been is impatient and demanding. Devil Eyes has someone Arctic cares about. Devil Eyes might even have a hero from Arctic’s team.

“I didn’t see them,” you whisper. You glance up from under your lashes to find the heroes hanging onto your every word. “But I know where he keeps them.” You bite your lip. “I—I shouldn’t have left them there. I know what it’s like being under his control. I know what he does.” You sit upright, meeting their eyes unflinchingly. “I want to save them. I’ll pay for my crimes after, I swear. I won’t run. But Devil Eyes needs to be stopped.” You let your voice crack. “Please. I need to help stop him.”

Arctic softens. “Virus—sorry. Please, is there anything else I can call you?”

Your lip trembles. “My mother called me Dandelion.”

“Dandelion,” Arctic says. “That’s lovely. Dandelion, I understand how you feel. I don’t think—”

Rag Doll stops her with a hand on her arm. “Arctic? Can we talk in the hall?”

“Of course.”

You watch the heroes leave the room. As soon as the door closes, your lip stops trembling. Your shoulders straighten. Your eyes stop glistening.

Rag Doll and Arctic will argue for ten minutes. You’re a former villain and, despite your lack of real villainy in your history, you can’t be trusted. You know Devil Eyes’ hideout, but you’re also fresh out from his control. You’re powerful, but that power can be turned against them.

But those arguments will only last ten minutes. The reality is that they don’t have a choice. You're not going to give them the location without being allowed to tag along. They don’t have time to wait for Foresight or even the Mind Squad who specialize in dealing with mental powers like Devil Eyes’. They’re heroes and the villain has one of their own. They have to act.

You settle back in your chair. They’ll agree to your terms. Your stomach twists. It’s nauseating to think about going back there. A year. Devil Eyes stole a year from you.

You hide your grin as the door opens.

“Alright. Let’s get you kitted out. You’re coming with us, Dandelion.”

You’ll be stealing a lot more from him.

Then instead of crying, maybe you’ll be laughing.

Only one way to find out.

--------

Thanks for reading! I love mind powers in the Superhero universe but they sure are a pain to write!

If you’d like to read stories like this or like others on my blog a week before I post them here, please consider supporting me on Patreon (X)

Next week’s story is already up! Summary:

Sometimes, when things go very wrong, the Chosen One gets a wish. That’s where Danielle comes in. TW blood, death, violence, child death

Thanks again for reading!

[scoops-aboy86]

If You Were Serious (Secret Admirer pt 7)

Okay, so there will be more than seven chapters. For now, please enjoy Steve on painkillers and creative mix tape shenanigans.

(The crossed out thing after the first "Dear" is the first line of an E.)

wc: 3226 / rated: T / set end of/after season 3 / also on ao3

Dear I

Dear Secret Amdirer,

Sorry, painkillers kicking in. I got pretty banged up in the mall, in the fire. Well, less the fire and more getting hit by stuff. Mall fell down. I have ribs and eye and nose, and concussion this time so I had to stay over at Robin’s because someone had to keep an eye on me sleeping and my parents are still out of town. Dustin said I won at upper body injury bingo but I didn’t even know I was playing, that sounds like really a shitty game. 

Anyway, I haven’t been home so I don’t know if you tried to call. If you did, don’t worry!!! I’m not mad. I don’t not like you anymore just because you’re you. And this isn’t the durg drugs talking because I read your letter first before they kicked in, but I have to write this ASAP so it can get to you faster. 

You could’ve called back that night but if you needed some time to breathe I get it, it’s cool. And I kinda had a feeling after that you might be a guy? Like, shit, man, they’d eat you alive in this town. Not me, I learned my lesson after Jonathan wrecked my face after I called him and his family some bad things. I deserved that. Kinda funny how the next year he stole my girlfriend and now I like you. If you could still be interested in somebody who used to be like that. 

I know I like you because when you hung up I was really worried, you sounded like you were breathing really fast, maybe a panic attack? I have those after nightmares now. Robin too. (Don’t worry, we bonded and she’s like my sister now, she says we’re playdoh soulmates

“Oh my god, I knew explaining who Plato was was a bad idea. It’s platonic, Steve, not Play-Doh.”

“Stop reading over my shoulder! … How do you spell that?”

“P-L-A-T-O-N-I-C.”

“Thanks Robbie.”

she says we’re playdoh soulmates platonic soulmates.) I was worried about you and thought maybe you might be a guy but, that wasn’t as important as wanting you to be okay, you know? You still wrote me all those nice letters. You’ve made me feel really good about myself, why does it have to be different just because you’re not a girl? I can’t tell you why Robin knows about this stuff but she says I might be bysix bisexual. Not sure why I need a big fancy word for it when I didn’t have one for liking girls, I just know I care about you a lot and want you to like me. 

And you’re not a coward, you’re very very brave. You reached out first, you went for what you wanted even when I didn’t get it and tried to ask for too much too soon. And then you kept coming back to try again, even though I kept doing that. That’s so brave. 

I’m not feeling so awake anymore so I’m going to stop and have Robin mail this for me. (No way am I going out dressed like this. Her dad wears grandpa shorts dude, it’s pretty bad.) I’ll write more when I’m feeling better. Are you okay? Hope you weren’t anywhere near the mall the other night. Thanks for the rainbow song I will look for it.

Love Steve 

~

Once Eddie is done reading, he screams into his pillow for a different reason. Several, actually. 

First, he’s been so sure for the past week or so that he would never hear from Steve ever again. The only reason he’d checked his mail today was because he should have another zine coming in soon. He didn’t, but there was a yellow envelope with familiar, if slightly messier than usual handwriting on it. And inside that, stationary with colorful geometric shapes along the edges that Eddie now surmises is Robin’s. 

Second, Steve isn’t even writing to tell him to fuck off right to hell. Because yes, Eddie had heard the rumors about Steve calling Jonathan Byers a queer. The irony does send a seam of semi-hysterical laughter through his screams. It’s fine. It’s fine!

Third, Steve hasn’t been avoiding his calls. He just hasn’t been home. He’s hurt, and it sounds like his head and torso took quite a beating. Eddie remembers seeing him around school both times after the other concussions and that had looked bad enough, and that had just been his face. This sounds worse. 

Fourth, Steve is… still interested? Has talked to someone about this and might be bisexual?! Eddie’s never had anyone talk to someone else about him, has always been completely anonymous with a possible option of becoming a dirty little secret. And then the letter ends with ‘Love Steve.’ Love? Love Steve?!

Fifth, Robin knows he sent Steve that ice cream. Eddie doesn’t know what all “platonic soulmates” entails, but what if she tells him? What if she already has?!

Sixth, despite being injured, and having panic attacks apparently, Steve is still asking if he is okay. 

Seventh, beneath his name Steve had also doodled a lopsided happy face with what he can only guess is an ice pack balanced on top. Or… maybe it’s hair. Or some kind of hat. 

Any of these would be enough to make his head spin on their own, but it’s all happening at once and he doesn’t know what to do. So he screams into his pillow for a while longer, kicking his feet for good measure. 

He wants to rush out and find Steve, wherever he is. Wants to call him, but doesn’t know what he would say even if he did know the number to reach him right now. What he could say. Wants to wrap both arms around him and kiss his poor head better. Hell, if he’s turned Steve gay he doesn’t just want, he deserves to make that guy the little spoon for the first time in his life probably and just. Hold him. 

Except… he’s not sure he’s ready for face to face yet. He will be! Soon. Once all the emotions bubbling in his chest have settled a little. And after he’s pinched himself a few million more times just to make sure. But until then…

A thought occurs to him, and Eddie rolls over to frown consideringly up at the ceiling. He’s sent Steve words to comfort and reassure him before, right? Maybe there’s something else he can send, a different way of offering a part of himself to Steve until he works up the nerve to face him for real. 

It’s just going to take him a little time, and some recording equipment. 

~

Dearest Steve,

I hope this address is still okay to write to you while you stay with your friend, but I don’t know where she lives. 

You have no idea 

Holy shit man. Holy shit. Are you serious? No, strike that, you’ve been nothing but genuine in these letters and I trust you, I do. Holy shit though. It’s you. Clearly I never thought I’d actually have a chance, from the way I approached this whole thing, so you must forgive me for how utterly poleaxed, completely flabbergasted, and genuinely gobsmacked I am. 

And shit, I’m still sorry for hanging up on you. That golden years line—and this heavy secret of the most basic fact of who I am weighing on my shoulders, pressing down so hard I couldn’t breathe. I wish I’d just said something. But you’re right, I needed… space? And a push, to work up to writing the last letter I sent you. I got yours the day I put that in the mail, by the way, and that spun me even more because what if you read mine and took it all back?

But you didn’t. You didn’t, sweetheart. I’m still reeling in the best possible way. Again, axed like a pole, flabbers gasted, and gob thoroughly smacked.

Enough about me. More than enough about me. You’re concussed; I ought to wrap that gorgeous head of yours in bubble wrap and offer to fight all your battles henceforth, even against falling buildings. I’m glad you have someone out there who’s looking out for you though. I guess… you’ve told Robin about some things? Maybe these letters? Which is absolutely fine, by the way. It’s great! Fuck knows it wouldn’t have occurred to me to explain what bisexuality is, since I hardly dared to dream so big and only swing the one way myself. You’re an amazingly open-minded person by the way, Steve; I hope you know how rare that is, especially in a place like Hawkins. And Robin too, apparently. Please give her my highest regards, she is an angel among mortals and an inadvertent champion of this sad wet rag of a human being (me). 

At any rate, wishing you the speediest of recoveries and I hope you’re already feeling at least a little better. My condolences on the grandpa shorts, although personally I’m convinced you could wear a trash bag and still look like an Adonis. 

It’s taken me a little longer than I’d like to send this because I made something for you. Enclosed is a tape with some of the songs from our call that you said you liked, played acoustically by yours truly. Rainbow In The Dark is one of them. You mentioned having nightmares, and whenever I had bad dreams as a kid my mom would play for me until I calmed down. She’d hum instead of doing the words, to make it more like a lullaby. I hope it’s at least a decent distraction, sweetheart. 

Let me know if you like it? I can make one of your favorite songs too, just you let me know what they are. In the meantime, I remain, as always—

Your Secret Admirer

~

“You should tell him that you know,” Robin whispers, at some point during the fourth night in a row they’ve ended up crashed on the same bed listening to the Anti-Panic Attack Metal Mix. 

Her dad sleeps like the dead and her mom sleeps with earplugs in because he snores, so they get away with it, but Steve always insists on laying on top of the covers anyway. The friendship is still new, for all that they’re trauma bonded, and he wants to make sure she knows he’s not getting any funny ideas, that he gets the whole lesbian thing, that even though he’s new to being into a dude he’s committed to it and not wishy-washy or greedy or whatever.

He fiddles with a loose string on the blanket for a minute before answering. “No… I don’t want to freak him out again. It’s all going to be on his terms from here on out, no more pushing.”

“Well you’ve got to do something. Come on Steve, I’m invested now. Ask to meet him.”

He rolls his eyes. “What did I just say?” 

Immediately he gives an inward wince, because that came out bitchy. But Robin just snorts and murmurs “Fine,” sounding amused rather than offended, so he relaxes. 

They exist in silence for a while, side by side. Just close enough to not feel alone, drifting on the soft notes and low, rich hum. It’s soothing. 

“What if,” Robin starts, and ignores Steve’s huff. “What if you go somewhere you know he might show, and then give him the opportunity to talk to you?”

“Oh yeah,” he scoffs, “like what?”

“Summer house party.” Her whisper picks up a little in excitement as she warms to her own idea. “I bet we can find one that’s coming up soon. Everyone knows that Munson sells, it’s one of those never invited but always welcome things. Then if he doesn’t come to you, just buy some weed and see if he says anything.”

“No,” Steve whispers back. 

She rolls over to squint at him in the dark. “Just think about it, okay? You wouldn’t be forcing him to do anything, just… providing an opportunity. Come on, Stevie-evie, this is my chance to see a gay love story go right.”

“Vetoing that nickname.” With a sigh, he rolls onto his side too, facing her. “My face still looks like raw hamburger meat, Robs. I have like zero charm right now.”

The swelling has gone down, at least to where he can open his eye again but the bruising remains spectacular. It looks like a sunset exploded across the side of his face, and not in a good way. 

Robin rolls her eyes. “You’re more than just your face, dingus. It wasn’t your rugged jawline, sculpted cheekbones, or pimple-free forehead that wrote those letters, it was you. Steve.”

He goes to wrinkle his nose at the descriptions, but quickly remembers that’s still a bad idea with a swallowed grunt. “Please, never describe me again.”

“I make no promises. And anyway, if you’re willing to try makeup I think we could get most of it covered so no one’ll ever notice. Not at night, anyway.”

That gives him pause. He rolls onto his back again to think about it, staring up at the ceiling of Robin’s bedroom and tracing imaginary constellation lines between the glow in the dark stars she has up there. Beside him, he feels her settling on her back too without having to look. 

It’s not like when he’d found a little brother in Dustin—who has visited pretty much every day during Steve’s convalescence, sometimes with Erica or Mike, Lucas, and Max in tow, spouting off things he’s read in books about the various still-healing injuries. As annoying as it is, Steve appreciates that the little dork took the time to study what’s wrong with him enough to provide armchair diagnoses and give him advice about things that he already knows. 

Robin is… more of a twin than a sister. (Which, yeah, twin sister, whatever. That’s not the point.) They’re on the same wavelength in a way he’s never experienced before, not with Tommy or Carol or even Nancy. The closest thing Steve has ever had to this was during basketball games, in the heat of a play where everyone on the team knew where everyone was and where they’d be and how to work together as a unit, perfectly in sync. Only with Robin, it’s all the time. Sometimes they can even finish each other’s sentences—though they try not to do that around her parents, in the interest of not wanting them to think they’re a couple. 

They’re more like a pair of bonded kittens at the pound, Robin says. Must be adopted together. (“Okay, but why can’t we be dogs? Dogs are cooler.” “Because, dingus, you have a one-hundred-and-twenty-seven step hair and skin routine and you’re incredibly aloof when you want to be. I could go either way, but you’re one hundred percent cat.”)

“Maybe,” he whispers finally. 

He’s not sure she’s still awake—he’s not sure he’s still awake, with the soothing music lulling him back to a calm he hadn’t felt even before he’d gone to bed the first time. But he wants to think she hears it, just like he wants to think that he’ll run into Eddie and find out what it’s like to hold his hand, maybe even kiss him, all in the same night. He’s worn lip gloss, he can deal with a little makeup. 

“Maybe I’ll go.”

~

Dear Secret Admirer,

Thank you for the tape, it’s perfect. It helps me get back to sleep because it feels like you’re there, watching over me. Like nothing bad can happen. Sometimes the nightmares still come back after but I think it’s getting better. It takes a while, you know? Last time, after the after Billy after my last concussion it took a while to stop having bad dreams. I guess the mind needs time to heal too, even if the stuff that happens to it isn’t as “real” as breaking a nose or a rib. Who knew?

I really am serious, yeah. Even though I’m me. Whatever that means. I don’t really know what to do with myself or what I want right now. (Except you. Kind of cheesy, but maybe you like that about me? I guess it’s something I always tried to hide before because the guys would’ve made fun of me, fuck knows Tommy did all of junior year, but I kind of like the idea that maybe you saw it anyway.) Once my face heals up me and Robin are going to try and get jobs together somewhere else because we’re cats that have to stick together or we’ll get stressed out and claw all the furniture. Other than that I don’t know what I want to do except leave Hawkins someday. But stick around to make sure it’s to see the kids graduate. Dustin’s starting high school in the fall, maybe you could keep an eye out for him? Curly hair, no collarbones, ego bigger than the whole state, total nerd but in a good way, even if he’s sometimes a butthead about it. He plays that game with dragons and those weird looking dice, do you know it? Him and his friends Mike and Lucas are kind of bully magnets. (Max is starting freshman year too but she can take care of herself in that department.) They’ve all been pretty down after the mall and with Will and moving away and everything. Erica, Lucas’ little sister, I guess I’m her “babysitter” now too, is still in middle school but I don’t know if she’d be glad or insulted if I waited around to see her graduate. She can take care of herself too. She and Dustin were with us for most of the Starcourt burning down and it was a lot, but kids are resilient. I don’t think she gets nightmares, not that she would ever admit to anyone if she did even though in her own words “we’ve bled together.” She’s getting into the nerdy dice game too and is planning her campaign for President of the USA as soon as she turns, what, 40? 50? Whatever age you have to be before you can do that. I’ll probably still be in a town like Hawkins with another lame retail job by then, but she’s got my vote. She’d do a hell of a lot better job than Regan, that’s for sure. 

Is your mom My mom never sang to

Also, you are really good at guitar, man. I still think about your hands, I bet you have long fingers. Really… What’s a word for ‘good with his fingers’? I think about that sometimes. I don’t really know what kind of stuff two guys can do together except the obvious but I think about that a lot. I want you to play me like your guitar. I’d let you fight my battles too, at least until my ribs get back to normal and then we can both fight both of our battles. You know I’d do that for you, right? If you ever need me. I really like these letters. I really like you.

Love, Steve

P.S. If you were serious about making me another tape (which you really don’t have to, this was already going above and beyond), my favorite songs are…

Tag list (and if you missed the earlier chapters check the "#secret admirer steddie" tag on my blog): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites

@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @whalesharksart

@thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @dauntlessdiva

@nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever @goosesister

@dolphincliffs @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @beckkthewreck @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @kurofuckingshi16

@bookworm0690 @millseyes-world @live-laugh-love-dietrich @the-tenth-mus-e

[abowlofsourcream]

⏳💫Congrats, Everyone! You got Memory of Rotting!💫⏳

You will never forget this…

…

You should come to the Favor tree after you’re done, Adventurers…

…

TW: PANIC ATTACKS, WARNING! SHARP!(DAGGER) MENTION, RESTRAINING, AND THEMES OF DISSOCIATION! Please be mindful before reading!

v Afterwards v



*Everyone is acting strange around you, like they know something you don’t…

*They probably do…

*You feel a bit off today, it would be okay if they were annoyed.

*Real sleepy too, which is weird because you definitely remember sleeping a lot the night before!

*And your stomach is killing you, but you don’t want to ask Bonnie for more snacks. That would be selfish of you.

*But that doesn’t matter anymore!

*You beat the king and now you are walking to meet The Head HouseMaiden!

*You’ll be home free!

*You reach the last room, where the Head HouseMaiden greets you…

*She tells all of you how grateful she was to them.

*Man this is great!

*…

*Why is everyone so quiet?

*She gives you time to talk to the others before she blesses you to move on!

*To go back your separate ways!

*To go back… Home…

*…

*… Huh.

*You talk with the other’s, and…

*Yep, they are totally acting weird…

*Isabeau was being extra weird, more than he usually was…

“You Okay, Isa? You’re sweating a lot…”

*Isabeau stammers at your question.

“O-oh! Y-yea! I’m all fine and good, Sif!”

*…

*You would usually find it kinda funny, but it was different.

“Okay… I guess I should talk to the Head HouseMaiden now…”

*You turn away, but.

“W-wait! Before you do that! I, uh-, need to tell you something!”

*Oh… That makes you feel weird for some reason!

“Um, Sif. Siffarooni. Siffrin! This may sound weird. It’s not bad, not anything bad! But you know now it’s the most perfect time to time!”

*You can see he is looking behind you as he says that…

*Why is he doing that?

“Um, Isa? Is this about that thing you said?”

*He looks at you confused.

“You know, the thing that you told me you would tell me after we beat the king”

*He blinks.

“I… What?” Did I tell you that?!”

*Oh? He didn’t say that? Has your daydreaming gotten that bad in the past two days?

*Stars, you’re so stupid!

“Siffrin?”

“I’m fine! I should just talk to the-”

*Isa grabs your shoulders.

*Woah!

“Isa?! What-?”

*Isabeau immediately lets go of you.

*He hasn’t touched you like that before, has he?

“Oh Change, I am so sorry! It’s just that you can’t talk to the Head HouseMaiden just… yet.”

*What in the Blinding Stars is going on?

*Why is everyone acting so weird.

“Isabeau, what is going on?! Why are you being so weird?!”

*…

*He isn’t even looking at you…

*What is he looking at?!

*You turn around to see Mirabelle and Bonnie and-

*And…

*The… Head HouseMaiden…

*…

*The things she is saying…

*You heard this before…

*About something going wrong.

*Something being broken.

*Rotting-

*…

*You start to remember things…

“Siffrin?”

*Odile walks up to the two of you.

*She tried to tell you once, didn’t she?

“Sif, what’s wrong?”

*Isabeau voice sounds so gentle… Just like that wonderful night under the stars…

*Your head feels like it’s splitting in two…

*You start to remember a lot.

*You’ve beat the King before!

*You won before, so why are you still all here?

“What is happening? Why are we here, again?”

*You remember your wish- Oh Stars!

*You remember your wish!

*Odile kneeled down to you.

“Siffrin, I am going to need you to breathe for a moment…”

*No! This can’t be it!

*Your…

*Your wish couldn’t have done this!

*You must be still asleep! Yea, that must be it!

*You just need to wake up!

*You.

*Just.

*Need.

*To.

*Wake.

*Up…

“Siffrin, are you listening to me? What is wrong?”

*…

*You feel through your pockets…

*You just need something quick, something shocking enough to make you wake up!

*You just need to find-

*Odile grabs both of your hands.

“Madame?!”

*Isabeau looks confused, not sure what you were looking for.

“Isabeau! Hold him in place while I look for his dagger!”

*No, no, no ,no!

*Isabeau quickly traps you in his arms…

*Odile searches for your dagger.

*SHE CAN’T DO THAT!

*You try your best to keep her away.

*Isabeau is keeping you in place.

“Frin?”

*Bonnie turns to the rest of them, terrified.

*The same way they looked when they were-

*You remember a sickly crunch.

*NO NO NO!

*YOU DIDN’T WANT THIS!

*THIS WASN’T YOUR WISH!

“ODILE, PLEASE! I NEED TO WAKE UP!”

*Odile grabs your dagger and throws to the side of the room!

*You try to squirm your way out of Isabeau’s arms.

*Odile grabs your face.

“SIFFRIN, YOU ARE NOT DREAMING!”

*No!

*No, you have to be!

*Your body feels like it’s trying to kill you…

“PLEASE, I CAN’T DO THIS AGAIN! I CAN’T TALK LISTEN TO HER AGAIN!”

*You never felt so helpless before…

“SIFFRIN-!”

“THIS IS WORSE THAN BEING ALONE! THIS IS WORSE THAN FORGETTING! THIS IS WORSE! THIS IS WORSE!!!”

*You see the Head HouseMaiden cradles Mirabelle’s face, crying!

*no!

*she can’t!

*Mirabelle turns to look at you.

*YOU FEEL A TUG.

*ON.

*YOUR.

*STOMACH!

<<<

*…

*You open your eyes.

*Your head is pounding…

*Your stomach hurts…

*Your whole body aches…

*You look around you.

*…

*Your… Allies are sitting around you…

*They’re watching you, worried…

*Mirabelle scooches close to you, carefully…

*Like you were dangerous…

*She is probably right.

“Siffrin… Do you… Remember what happened?”

*…

“I…”

*…

*You…

*Odile pressed her hand against your head.

“Jem’s, Siffrin you are boiling!”

*Oh…

*Isabeau stands up.

“Siffrin, let me take you to the Clock Tower… Can you walk?”

*You try to stand up…

*… You don’t get very far.

*He catches you and picks you up…

*You don’t deserve that…

“Bon Bon, take their hat for them?”

*Bonnie’s nods their head, gently picking up!

“Okay! Let’s go!”

*They all go there way to the clock tower…

*…

“M-mira?”

“…Yes, Siffrin?”

*…

“I’m sorry I screwed everything up…”

“… It’s okay, Siffrin. We’ll figure it out together…”

*…

*Together?

*…

*You hope so…

*But…

*…

*You’re not so sure how much longer you can go…

[penkura]

I feel like I annoy you. I am so sorry if i do and feel free to ignore it.

After you wrote feverdream so beautifully I was so overwhelmed. (Ofc i do love all of your work)

Tbh Penguin with a dominant side lives free in my head. Especially if he maybe isnt too fond of reader during a miscommunication (or other scenarios). I am weak for an enemy to lover trope. Even so we know that our boy is mostly totally sweet and most likely to become friends with everyone in an instant.

So if you are interested in it or find inspiration I would love to see the result.

Otherwise if you prefer pure fluff. It would surely be funny for either Penguin or Law tonget hit by a truth fruit kinda power. So they have to be completely honest for a short period of time and i can totally see them going to hide so they cant spell their true feelings towards you.

Either way have a fantastic day and i sure hope work will treat you good and you can take a break soon ❤️

Since you've been doing the Truth Truth Fruit posts, I'll do the first prompt! 👀 I got an idea that I hope is to your liking, and everyone else's of course!

More Penguin prompts please I love him sm

Penguin doesn’t get you at all.

He’s tried, every day since you joined, to be nice and accommodating, he tries to include you in group card games, attempts to help you with whatever chores you’re assigned, and stays up to sit with you on night watches. The problem, though, is you, how you don’t even talk to him when he tries to speak to you or anything really. If he calls for you, you stare at him with your eyes slightly wide, which confuses him greatly. If he has something for you or Law needs you, all you do is nod in response and leave, not even thanking him.

What the hell is your problem, what could he have done to make you act so coldly towards him? He just wants to be your friend, even when Shachi tries to suggest it’s more than that is what Penguin wants, but he just rolls his eyes at his lifelong friend. There are zero ulterior motives, he’s just trying to be nice and a good crewmate, that’s all it is.

If only you would talk to him, let him prove he’s not a bad person, but he’s just so frustrated at this point that he’s given up, Penguin has started to ignore you just the same as you’ve done to him. He only speaks to you now if Law needs something from you, he doesn’t even ask you to join in cards night or to go with him and Shachi into towns anymore. If you do hang out with everyone on game nights, you’re more inclined to sit off to the side with Law and watch everyone, mostly talking to your captain.

Penguin has mostly given up, you won’t talk to him or anything. You must dislike him, that’s the only thing that makes sense, isn’t it? Yeah, that’s it. You don’t like him. He can’t make you like him, so he won’t try anymore, he won’t bother. He stops talking to you entirely, even if someone else needs you. He just gets Shachi or Ikkaku to talk to you.

It does annoy your crewmates, to see the two of you at odds and not wanting to talk to each other for…what was the reason again? Shachi isn’t sure, but he’s tired of it just like the rest of them.

It's why he brings up the idea of leading you and Penguin into one of the supply closets, separately, before locking you both in and setting someone as guard to prevent anyone from letting you out until you’ve talked about things. He’s lucky that your crewmates are willing to help, Clione easily leads you in and the makes an excuse that he needs to ask Law something. In reality he went to get Penguin with the same excuse of needing to look for something, pushing the older man into the closet and causing him to nearly knock you over, before the door is pulled closed and locked from the outside. Penguin really tried to open it, for several minutes, before he sighed and gave up. You’d already decided to sit in a corner and let him be, even while he kicks an empty bucket out of frustration.

“Stupid, all of them.” Penguin sighs and sits across from you the best he can, though it’s still close enough that your shoes are touching.

You don’t say anything, you’re confused why you and Penguin have been locked in the supply closet. You know he doesn’t like you, you’ve known from the start, believing he’s always pretending to be nice when he invites you for games and the like. You were used to that, from men and women, but you’d come to trust Ikkaku and Clione more than anyone. Shachi was working his way into your circle, but you felt like Penguin was just messing with you all the time, even when your crewmates swore he wasn’t like that and he really did want to be your friend. It’s hard for you to believe that, even harder to accept it despite your growing feelings for Penguin.

Part of you wonders what you did to develop a crush on someone who doesn’t even talk to you anymore.

“…any idea why they locked us in here?”

Penguin shrugs, ignoring the fact this is the first time he’s heard your voice in the last few months you’ve been with them.

“Probably trying to make us talk or something. Bet Shachi came up with it.” Another sigh whole he takes off his hat for a moment to brush his hair back, barely taking note of how your eyes widen a little and you look more nervous, “Just cause we’re on the same crew doesn’t me have to like each other…”

“Oh,” your shoulders drop a bit but you nod, you figured he didn’t like you after all, “Yeah…I guess so…”

Odd, he didn’t think you’d sound so disappointed. If you two are locked in here though, he might as well try some small talk. There’s nothing else to do unless you want to make a supplies list.

“Can I ask you something?” Penguin has to think of how to word it when you nod, even as you keep your eyes off him, “Why don’t you talk to me?”

It takes you a few minutes to come up with a response, Penguin thinks you’re not to answer so he doesn’t hold his breath for one. It stands to reason, you don’t talk to him normally anyway.

“My last crew, well, just a couple of them, they’d invite me to do stuff then go without me or tell me it was a joke,” you sigh a little while Penguin watches you, seeming to understand a little more, “I guess I just let that get to me when you started being so friendly, I was expecting the same things. I should—”

“I wouldn’t do that to you. I wanted to be friends with you.”

“Shachi told me that but I didn’t believe him…I’m sorry, I should’ve trusted that you weren’t like them.”

“…I probably should’ve taken things slow, sorry.”

You both stay quiet for a bit after that, not sure what else to say or talk about. It feels so awkward, you hate this kind of forced small talk. Penguin eventually stands up, holding his hand out to help you up, and not letting go after you’re on your feet, giving you a slight smile.

“Let’s start over, yeah? We’ll pretend the last few months didn’t happen, and work out a friendship together.”

“I think I’d like that, Penguin.”

You two will move past this, you’ll become real friends and spend more time together, especially after Shachi lets you out of the closet and Penguin chases him down for it, threatening to lock his friend in their next. The next time Penguin invites you to play cards with everyone, you join and end up beating him during a far too long game of poker. He’s shocked but the grin on your face makes his heart feel weird, and he can’t help the smile that comes across his own face.

Man…maybe Shachi was right and there is more here…

[90ekz]

✣ HEAD OVER BOOTS! ੈ✩‧₊˚ SASUKE UCHIHA

wc. 1.5k

tags. farm au, fluff, stableboy!sasuke x black fem!reader, wingman naruto bc that concept is funny as FUCK, “suggestive” thoughts on sasuke’s end.

stableboy!sasuke who’s eyebrows raise as you step foot onto the ranch he works at, claiming to be a replacement for the last dairy farmer who had recently been fired. at first impression, he’s just irritated that he has to make conversation with another nameless coworker. the last new hire that he spoke to reported him to the head farmer about his “attitude problem”, and he’d gotten a very verbal warning.

and so, he tries.

slight nods toward people when they speak to him, eye contact, the whole nine. does he love doing it? absolutely not, but he can’t afford anymore complaints, this job is too important to him.

he doesn’t plan on treating you any differently, until he sees the way your brown skin sparkles in the sun, or the way your slacks cling to your thighs, and now he’s contradicting his previous beliefs. before you, his breath didn’t usually hitch when he saw people and his heart definitely didn’t hammer against his ribcage for no reason, especially since he hasn’t even spoken to you in the two days you’ve been here.

he keeps his distance, because frankly, he doesn’t trust himself to not do something stupid in your presence.

sasuke shakes his head to get himself out of his own thoughts as he’s brushing the mane of his favorite mare, luna. the action makes her tilt her head at him, and he scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“don’t ask.”

it isn’t until your fifth day of employment that he’s forced to interact with you.

sasuke’s already in a bad mood, after being forced to finish grooming the last half of naruto’s sheep since he’d passed out from the heat, and even now as he dislodged the horseshoe from luna’s foot, his mood was still sour.

“there you are! ‘been looking for you for like 30 minutes!” naruto calls from behind him. he looks over his shoulder to see the blonde carrying a huge knitted sack on his back. it was a surprise that it hadn’t busted with the weight of whatever was inside of it, and sasuke felt another vein in his forehead swell with blood.

“look who decided to get over his heatstroke.”

“screw you. i’m here to do you a solid,” naruto drops the sack on the hay-covered floor with a soft thud, and a few green clusters roll out onto the ground. since when did they do personalized grass bundles? sasuke’s eyebrow twitches, and he hopes this isn’t what he thinks it is.

“you get to take these to the new girl! kakashi said they were for the cattle.”

fuck.

sasuke audibly chokes, eliciting a snort from his blonde counterpart, but this isn’t funny in the least to him. he wants to do literally anything but this, and yet his greatest fear just came true right before his eyes. why did he apply for this job again? “no. absolutely not—just… no.” sasuke turns back to his current task, and attempts to finish tending to luna, but naruto is trudging over to him and crouching down to his level with a calm smile. for a while, just watches in silence, and sasuke briefly considers stabbing himself in the eye with the pair shoe-pull offs he was holding.

“y’know ‘suke, you can’t be afraid of pussy for your whole life.”

“can you genuinely fuck off?” sasuke gripes, his grip on luna’s hooves tightening a notch until he realizes what he’s doing. he breathes in once, and out another—just like kakashi had taught him that one time after him and naruto had gotten into it on the front lawn and fell in the fish pond.

“nah. anyway, i know how you are about people, but you obviously feel something for her, right? at least you’re subtle enough, but i pay a lot of attention these days. she’s so nice, just go talk to her!”

and maybe he’s right—maybe he just needs to man up, and go talk to you, but what would you even say to someone like you? you’re everything he’s not, and the last thing he wants is to make a bad first impression. sasuke hates to admit it, but you absolutely allure him in every way possible. once he finishes the other horseshoe removal, he’s shooting to his feet and slinging the back of grass over his shoulders. sure, it almost sends him tumbling to the ground, but for some reason—a new wave of determination is washing over his skin.

“just talk to her…yeah, i can talk.”

“exactly! now stop thinking so much and take the goddamn grass.” naruto ruffles sasuke’s hair and shoves him into his first steps out of the barn, and he’s on his way to you.

he mostly just strolls around the farm to stall, but if anyone asks, he’s thinking of what to say. he just needs to deliver the bundles, introduce himself, and leave. it’s gonna be fine, right? you’re not gonna think he’s a total weirdo—but what if you do think he’s weird? oh god, that’ll kill him. he has to see you everyday, and if you think he’s weird, then you’ll probably tell everyone, and then he’s gonna get fired—shit, he should go back to his room—NO, he’s delivering the fucking grass bundles, it’s just cow food, for gods sake.

grass, introduce, leave. grass, introduce, leave. grass introduce, leave—

“oh, are those for me?” you gasp happily from your spot on a comfortable piece of hay, and you’re running over to him. how the hell did he happen to stumble directly into your barn? curse his ridiculously good sense of direction. your scent floods his senses as you step closer to him with that smile, and it’s just then that sasuke remembers what he’s there for.

“yeah, naruto made me deliver them, the lazy bastard. they’re for your cattle.” sasuke says coolly, yet internally cringing at his dialogue options. obviously, they’re for the fucking cattle, god.

all his worries melt away as small giggles flow from your lips, and you take his wrist in your hand and lead him into the barn. you introduce him to each one of your cattle—literally every single one—and he doesn’t think he’s ever enjoyed anything more than he is right now. everything is fine, but now the adrenaline is wearing off and he’s painfully aware of how gorgeous he’d always thought you were once more.

from your voice, to the way your clothes cling to your body, to your scent—sasuke’s being lassoed in by your beauty, and he doesn’t think he wants to escape. frankly if you tied him up, that would be pretty hot. you have rope on your belt right now, you could literally just—no, what is his problem?

by the time he’s done fantasizing, you’re unbundling each pack of grass and feeding your cattle. he inhales, and goes to squat next to you.

“i’m sasuke, by the way.”

“hah, of course i know that, silly! you’re the heartthrob around here,” you chuckle at your own remark, and sasuke even feels himself smirking a little before catching it. why was he so entertained by you?

“that’s one of the first things i found out when i got here. i didn’t even know who people were talking about, but then i actually saw you, and well—let’s just say i understand a little better now.” you finish unbundling the last pack of grass, and watch the cattle fall into their peaceful little cliques. you lean back onto your occupied hay bed, and begin unbuttoning your flannel. sasuke doesn’t freak out, thinking you’re just gonna gonna stop at two or three buttons, but then your passing your third, then fourth, then fifth—eventually leaving your shirt completely open, and the only thing underneath being your sports bra.

he isn’t blushing, nor is he looking. sasuke is not a creep. he keeps his gaze directly on the floor as he stands up, and offers you a hand up without looking at you. you giggle once more and take it, and he feels your nails graze over his palms, which does something funny to his stomach. he still can’t look at you all the way, but he can feel your gaze on him.

“thanks for the delivery. i was hoping i’d get someone as fine as you, guess my wish was granted.” your eyelashes flutter as you talk, and he’s definitely blushing now, but his composure is still there as he gives you a very curt nod.

it’s not until you reach into your pocket and pull out a little roll of cash and stick it into his breast-pocket that his mind is short circuiting. your fingers linger on his chest for longer than they should, but he never wants you to move them.

“see ya’ around, cowboy.” you drag you finger down his chest as you take your exit, missing the stuttered breath that tears itself out of sasuke’s chest. he stands deathly still until you’re out of sight, and then he’s promptly crumpling to his knees.

“fuck.”

[plussizefantasia]

Broken Together

BlackCat!reader x Bucky Barnes

Chapter 5/6 : <Prev/ Next>

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Talks of violence, suggestive language

A/N: okay so I fully planned to do a smut scene but then I chickened out because I've never written one before so.... sorry. ALSO: keep your eyes peeled for the kickoff post of my 300-follower (holy shit) celebration along with chapter 3 of the Fluttering Hearts series, both will be coming out before the end of the day!

You nod a solitary nod and reach for the door handle.

“I love you.”

 That stops you cold in your tracks.

“Don’t say that.”

“That’s not really the reaction I was looking for if I’m honest.”

“Well what did you want me to say James?”

“I don’t know, really anything but don’t say that. I tell you how I’m feeling and you know that I’m not good with that feeling shit and your reaction is to tell me not to say it?”

“Jesus Bucky, I can’t ever tell with you! Two minutes ago you were giving me the silent treatment and being all pissy and now you tell me you love me? What am I supposed to do with that?!”

“I- just… I spent the whole night worrying about you, you were back there in that room all alone with those bastards and I couldn’t get to you. I just had to listen through comms and hope and pray to whatever God there is that you come out the other side.”

“Bucky, I can take care of myself.”

“I know that, really I do. I have never ever doubted that you could handle yourself but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying when you go somewhere I can’t reach you. It’s bad enough I had to watch you hanging off that asshole all night. Watching him touch you in the way I’d wanted to all night.” Bucky’s hands tighten around the wheel. You watch as he swallows something caught in his throat.“I watched and stood there like an idiot while he held you close and made you laugh and did everything I’d been dreaming about. I couldn’t look away though, as much as I wanted to becuase even a glimpse of your smile is enough to make all that shit worth it. But then I hear you being threatened, I watch you walk away with the target and not even five minutes later he pulls a gun on you? It took everyhting in me not to run to you, not to burst in and protect you with all I have.”

“I don’t need your protection-”

“I know that! Goddamn it I know that! I know that your amazing, that’s the only thing that kept me from running in there, knowing how good you are. How good my girl is at her job, she doesn’t need me, but I really fucking wish she did.”

“You’re girl? I’m not your girl James I- you don’t even like me?” 

“What?! Why the hell do you think I don’t like you?”

You scoff, “You give me shit all the time. You call me Fury’s pet and you never fail to let everyone know just how much you don’t trust me.”

“I trust you, I trust you with my whole life, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” 

“You have a funny fuckign way of showing it.” You cross your arms over your chest, this whole night scratch that day has been a total fucking emotional rollercoaster, you almost died and now here you are. The man who you love to hate and hate to love is spouting all kinds of heartfult shit and you’re reeling, I mean… what are you supposed to say to that?!

Bucky takes your silence harshly, he tries to fill the space with as many words as he can. He knows that he’s not good at this shit. He isn’t James Barnes the ladies man from the forties anymore, he’s too broken for that. But he can tell your broken too, and maybe you can be broken together? 

“When I say that I love you, I mean it. I mean that I can’t stop thinking about you, when youre not next to me it’s like i can’t breathe. When I hear you laugh or see you smile my whole world lights up. God even when you’re yelling at me an throwing pillows and shit I can’t help but feel like a goddamn wire. I don’t know when I realized it was love, if it was months ago or minutes ago but I’m not taking it back. I don’t think I can ever take it back.” Bucky ends his rant with several big breaths. The whole time he was talking, his eyes never left the road, his hands never left the wheel. 

“James, I- God fuck. I’m not a good person. I don’t deserve good things. Anyone i’ve ever been close to has told me the same shit, i’m too broken to be good to anyone.”

“Yeah. You’re broken. You’re a smart-mouth little piece of shit who doesn’t lok after herself and can’t follow a sleep schedule for the life of her and I love you.” He finally looks into your eyes.

“I don’t need a perfect girl, I don’t want a perfect girl, someone to hang off my arm and laugh at my jokes and just stand there looking pretty? I’ve had that and it gets boring really fucking fast. But you? I could spend the rest of my life trying to figure you out and I really really want to.” 

“I’m not easy, and I don’t think I ever will be.”

“I like a challenge.”

“Well,-”

“Jesus, Stop trying to talk me out of this, I want you. I want you and all the messy shit that come’s with that.”

“I’m running out of reasons anyway.”

“What does that mean… for us I guess?” 

“It means that if you can get us back to the hotel within the next five minutes I’m gonna let you see the pretty little number I have on underneath this dress.”

Bucky slammed on the gas.

_____

It took the two of you four minutes to get to the hotel, the entire time people were honking at your car weaving through traffic. You’re really fucking surprised that the two of you didn’t get pulled over. 

Four minutes is a lot of time though, especially when your nervous as hell and have a penchant for self-sabatage. You don’t know how this is going to go. This is brand new territory for you and honestly your shitting bricks right now with how nervous you are.

It’s not like you’ve never been with anyone, but Bucky is the first guy that you’ll genuinely care what happens when it’s over. Most of the guys you’ve been with before have been the type to only want something physical from you, not that you were complaining, you had needs and they were willing to fuffil them. They just didn’t want to date you, and never once had any of them used the L-word. 

You’re still reeling from Bucky’s confession. You have no idea how long he’s felt this way but the more you think about it the more it makes sense. For as long as you’ve known the man he’s been difficult to read, he build walls as easily as you do and he uses them to block out 99.99% of people in his life. 

Now that you’re really thinking about it you’re astonished at how much he told you tonight. You guess having a gun pulled on the person you care about really makes you want to tell them everything you’d been holding back.

You’d be lying if you thought that there wasn’t something you also wanted to tell Bucky when you heard the safety click off. You don’t know if love is the right word, not yet but you do know that he means just about the world to you. The only person in your life who really seems to see you and understand what you’re thinking. You’ve always liked working with Barnes, it was easy, but now you think there might be something else to it. 

Bucky pulls into a parking spot right at the front of the building and within seconds he’s by your door opening it and offering you a hand to step out.

“Eager?”

“Very.”

He pulls you out of the car but doesn’t step back, he crowds you in every sense of the word. You see and smell and think nothing but him. This close you notice the little things that you hadn’t before, like the little piece of hair that keeps falling onto his forehead, escaping the gel holding the rest of his locks back. Or the way small scars he has, one above his eyebrow, a line to the right of his lip, a little triangle under his eyes. You could spend hours studying him, he doesn’t give you that long tough,

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, moving closer to your mouth. You don’t answer, just push yourself into him. You practically melt at the little groan that falls past his lips. 

His hands fall to your hips almost instintually, the grab ahold of you firmly not willing to let you move even an inch from his hold.

His mouth moves passionalty against yours, he takes his time really trying to get to feel you, to taste you. The pulls away only enough to get air into his lungs, resting his forehead agaisnt yours. God he could kiss you for a lifetime and even a bit longer than that.

“That was…” you start.

“Yeah.” The corners of his lips turn up into a genuine smile. You love his smile even if you don’t get to see it that often. 

“James?” 

“Yeah Kitty?” He giggles… this grown ass man giggles into you.

“Take me upstairs, these people don’t need a show.” You nod your head at the gathering of people outside, trying and failing to make it look like they weren’t just staring.

“Gladly.”