#dispatches from my desk

[icarus-suraki]

There are ballet dancers doing technique lessons to all-piano arrangements of the theme from "Rocky" and "Jurassic Park" over here and I'm

[veltana]

Unleashed - Avengers!Bucky/Fem!Reader

✦ Pairing: Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~4,2k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: Sex pollen adjacent kinda, smut, a bit fluffy, one shot, possessive!Bucky, co-workers/friends to lovers, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, orgasm denial, dirty talk, praise, creampie, pet names (doll).

✦ Summary: During a mission, Bucky is exposed to something that removes his inhibitions and all he wants is you.

✦ Note: Previously posted on AO3 since I have basically no time or energy to write new stuff. It was titled You’re what I need before but I always hated that title so I decided to re-name it. Bucky is kind of an asshole in this, but it's just because he wants you! As always, reblogs, comments, and asks are very welcome ❤️

Masterlist | AO3

The worst part about watching from afar as a mission goes to shit is that you feel useless. Even as you dispatch medics for the team all you can do is tell them, "Help is on the way."

Captain America shouts orders that you hear through the comms. The wait feels endless until the crew of the quinjet declares that they have spotted the team and there's not much else for you to do but look at your monitors and wait for an update. When you get the call back that the team is secure you breathe a sigh of relief, but then the next message is to prepare the medical staff to receive multiple injuries and chemical exposure. You ask the crew to clarify, but they are too busy, so when you notify the medical center, they prepare a quarantine room.

Sometimes you wish you had a superpower and could be there with them instead of staring at your monitors and doing endless calculations on whatever the team needs. But then when they return they always compliment your work and tell you they don’t know how they managed without you. You try to remind yourself of those moments at times like this.

Once the quinjet is docked and everyone has been accounted for you push away from your desk and remove your headset, taking deep breaths and trying to calm your heart. A moment later a message pops up on your screen, probably because they couldn’t reach you through your comms. [Bucky wants you to come down here]

Your heart does a little flip in your chest, making you scowl. He is your friend and probably injured, you have no idea why he would be asking for you, but it’s not because he feels the same way you do. You grab your tablet and head to the MedBay.

When you get down you take stock of the situation. Nat and Steve have some scratches, Sam's arm is broken and Wanda has a few cracked ribs. Tony is bruised, his suit had taken most of the damage. You look around for Bucky but don’t see him anywhere and quickly deduce that he must be the person currently in quarantine.

When you get to the wing, you’re almost too scared to go in, afraid to see what could have happened to him. Inside, you find a team of medical personnel discussing Bucky's condition with him through a glass wall. His hair looks damp and he's wearing standard-issue quarantine clothing, soft black pants, and a black sweatshirt. When he sees you standing patiently at the side he says. "You can come back later. I need to talk to her more than I need to talk to you. Go away." His voice comes from speakers in the ceiling.

You're shocked by his behavior but smile apologetically as the white coats pass you on their way out. When you get up to the glass you hiss. "Bucky, what is wrong with you, don't be rude.” "You make it sound like I'm never rude otherwise," he laughs. "You're not rude to healthcare professionals, you know better." You glare at him as you wake your tablet. “Now what did you need me for?”

"Do you like me?" he asks. Your mouth falls open and your heart starts to beat faster. You’re happy your vitals aren’t monitored as you quickly collect yourself and try to deflect his question. "Of course I like you Bucky, you're my friend." But now it feels weird to look at him and you find a spot on the wall far behind him to focus on.

"What if I want more than friends?" is his next question and despite your best efforts, hope warms your chest. This is not happening. Of course you toyed with the idea of you and Bucky, he is always sweet to you, and if he has the chance he brings you gifts from the missions. But you’ve told yourself repeatedly that he needs someone stronger, who can keep up with him in the field and you’re not that person.

"Can we have this conversation when you are not high on some HYDRA drug?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from betraying you. They are monitoring everything in the room. And there is a sheet of unbreakable glass in between you both. If you're going to confess your feelings, it won't be like this.

"I'm not high," he huffs. "My mind has never been clearer." "I still think we should have this conversation later." "Doll, look at me." The command in his voice is so strong you don’t think, you snap your eyes to his and they are so blue and soft.

"I will feel the same tomorrow, and the day after, whenever this drug wears off but now is the only time I can't hold my tongue," he explains. You place your hand on the glass and he does the same on the other side. "It will be fine Bucky, I promise," you say just as the door opens and Steve walks in, making you pull your hand back to your side. He's showered, in a fresh pair of clothes and he swings his arm over your shoulder.

"Stop hogging her time Bucky, I know for a fact that she also needs to debrief," he smiles but Bucky looks as if he's seeing red. Through gritted teeth he presses out, "Get your fucking arm off her, punk. She's mine."

You and Steve burst into laughter because it has to be a joke, but then Bucky punches the barrier with his vibranium arm. The glass doesn't crack but both you and Steve stop short and step away in shock. Steve removes his arm and says, "I'll meet you upstairs." Before quickly heading out.

You turn to Bucky and point at him, anger rising in your chest. "What is wrong with you? Steve is your friend!" "That is what it’s like in here every day,” he points to his head. You're taken aback by his statement and his wide feral eyes. Clearly, whatever he was exposed to had messed with his head and he's not himself. “Bucky I need to go,” you tell him, and before he can protest you continue. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smile feebly at him and are out the door before he can say anything else.

After debriefing and having dinner you go to bed early. Your head is spinning with the day and most of all, Bucky.

It's way past midnight when you wake to the soft closing of your door. Since you always sleep with a night light the soft warm glow reflects off his left arm and leaves no doubt about who has entered your room. You blink at him but before you can ask a question he rasps out, pleading. "I need you. So bad. Please doll, help me." He moves closer to your bed.

You quickly remove your covers and get up, glad the giant t-shirt covers you to your thighs, ready to spring into action. "Anything Bucky, what do you need?" You stop an arm's length from him, but all he does is reach his hand out to cup your face, letting his thumb stroke your cheek. There is a wild look in his eyes but you keep calm. "I can't get you what you need if you don't tell me," you whisper, meeting his eyes and watching as his brow furrows.

"I need you. Right now. If I don't get to touch and taste every inch of your body I'm going to lose my mind," he confesses in a low voice. His words shock you and you hitch a breath. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. You have this great friendship. If things were different you would not have minded taking it to another level, but with the day in mind and the fact that he somehow got out of his containment room you say, "Bucky, you’re not yourself, you need to get back to-”

"Doll,” he interrupts with a hard voice. “For once, I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. The only thing the drug did, I think, was remove my inhibitions. For once I feel free. My mind isn't controlled by HYDRA or by fear that you'll reject me. All I know is that I crave you and I can't be quiet about it anymore.”

"Bucky… I…" your whole body is flushed with warmth from his words and you're not sure how to respond. "I dreamt about you and couldn't stop myself from going over here. I don't want to hurt you, doll, but I'm not sure this drug will let me leave. All I wanna do is move closer to you.” You swallow hard as he continues, thumb still stroking your cheek. “Ask FRIDAY to get Steve, or the Hulk if you want me to leave."

Instead, you step into him, making up your mind in an instant and resting your hands on his chest. "Stay, I'll be glad to help you with anything you need," you whisper honestly and by the way his eyes widen there was still some doubt in his mind that you would reject him.

Instead of saying anything his vibranium hand grasps your waist and pulls you closer. There is no escaping the smell and size of him and his hands on you got your pussy throbbing for him already.

"I hope you understand what you've agreed to," he whispers, leaning closer. "Once I have you I won't stop, you'll never be rid of me. I'll claim you against every surface of this fucking compound if I need to." That makes you whimper and press harder against him. "Fuck you'd like that huh? Are you a kinky little thing? Like getting fucked where people can see you and hear you moan, do you want people to see my hard dick spread you open?" "Fuck Bucky!" You exclaim and lean your forehead against his chest. Maybe that idea excites you or maybe it is just that the word ‘claim’ sounds so primal.

"You're going to tell me all your little secrets later, doll. But now, I'm going to take what's mine." And with that, he crushes his lips to yours. He backs you towards the bed, kissing you the whole time, letting his hands explore you. When you land on your back, he stands over you with eyes like a predator about to devour its prey.

You shuffle up until your head rests on the pillows, spreading your legs for him. Without taking off any clothes he crawls after you, settling on his knees between your legs and placing his hands on the headboard, crowding you with his large frame. "Mine," he whispers and it makes a shudder pass through you. He ruts his clothed cock against your core, slicking your underwear even more and making you whine, gripping the sheets under you.

"Yes," he almost hisses as the length of his dick presses on your clit and forces a mewl out of you. It's been a long time since you've gotten laid. "Bucky," you plead. "No doll, I'm going to enjoy every fucking second of claiming you, from the outside in. Did you think this would be hard and fast and that I would be gone before you knew what happened?"

He lets go of the headboard to put his elbows beside your head instead, his weight on you, pressing you down into the mattress. "When I leave you will long for me, spend every waking second wishing I was still inside you. I want your cunt to be permanently drenched so I can fuck you whenever I please." He kisses you forcefully and any coherent thought that was left in your head flees. "And when you're too sore to take more of my dick in your pussy I'm going to do the same thing to your mouth and ass."

He rids you off your t-shirt and instead of having to move from between your legs to pull off your underwear, he rips them apart. "Ah!" you exclaim when the force of his movements jolts you but he takes no notice, he just stares at you, letting his hands roam up and down your sides, up to your tits, cupping them and caressing your nipples with his thumbs.

Whimpers are coming from you with every pass of this touch. Then he moves down and lays on his stomach, not saying a word as he sweeps his tongue over your pussy before he starts devouring you with a throaty moan.

It doesn’t take long for the first orgasm to take you, his movements are precise and his words and actions have made you hornier than you’ve ever experienced. Or maybe it's because he is the hottest person you’ve ever laid eyes on and he only wants you.

When you’re finished and sensitive he dips his tongue into your hole to taste you and groans loudly, lapping up the wetness from your orgasm. "Better than I've dreamed of," he says when he pulls away. Now you’re the one that must be high because you can't help but giggle. "You seriously dream of me?" "All the time, doll. Every night when I go to bed I wish you were with me and then you plague my sleep with your soft curves and radiant smile."

You're about to tell him how his laugh makes you warm and fuzzy on the inside but at that moment he sucks your clit into his mouth, cutting out every thought in your brain. He's gentle but not hesitant, it's as if he's feeling you out and when you make a particularly loud sound he continues the same movement, making your whole body go hot.

The second orgasm is intense enough to send aftershocks through for a long while afterward. Bucky lays his head on your thigh as you tremble, caressing your skin and letting the fingers of his right hand skim over your opening.

Despite what he's already given you, you still crave more. His fingertips never come close to where you need them and when you whine at the back of your throat Bucky smiles up at you. "Don't worry, I'm not even close to done with you, but I don't want you to pass out on me.” One of his fingers glides inside, making you take a sharp breath just because it feels so good. Once again he is careful, moving slowly, listening to your breath and your body.

"Please Bucky, I need more.” "No need to beg, I'll give you everything you want… in time," he breathes and kisses the skin on the inside of your thigh. Slowly he moves his finger in and out. You're sure it's a form of torture. The sweetest kind there is. Your breathing is labored and when he finally adds a second, you start to quiver.

He nips at your skin and then kisses it before speaking. "You look like a goddess, doll, eyes filled with lust, your skin is gleaming. I'm going to worship you until you're tired of me.” "Never gonna happen," you whimper. Then his thumb lands on your clit, making you cry out. Everything is so sensitive and overstimulated.

"I don't- Bucky, I don't think I can again," you tell him even though his touches are causing your insides to melt. "Yes, you will," his voice is soft but the command is clear. So instead of trying to speak again, you sink further into the madness that is him playing with you. The third one takes its sweet time but you never feel rushed or stressed that it's taking too long. Bucky isn’t in a hurry.

Then it’s suddenly there, crashing through you. "Fuck Bucky, fuck you're gonna make me come." "So good for me, let me feel you come on my fingers," he urges. "I'm going to lick them clean afterward so make sure you get them nice and wet for me. I want as much as you'll give me." The climax reaches its peak and you come with a cry of his name, body convulsing and your hand shooting down to tangle in his hair.

"Just like that doll," he smiles up at you and holds your gaze when he pulls out his fingers and sucks them clean, moaning while he does. It's a filthy sound, but it turns you on as if he didn't just make you come for the third time. Then he dives in between your legs again, licking at your skin and your soaked hole. Letting go of his hair all you can do is just lie there, writhing, as he somehow coaxes a fourth orgasm out of you.

“Fuck me,” you plead when he pulls back. “I need you inside me Bucky.” This time he takes pity on you and moves away to take off his clothes. When he’s naked he kneels between your legs again and you spread them as wide as you can. "Want me, doll?" he asks with a smirk. He swipes his cock through your mess and then uses his hand to coat himself with you. "Yes," is all you can say. Both you and Bucky stare as he pushes his dick into you, filling you up completely. Of course, he takes it torturously slow this time too.

"This feels better than any dream I've ever had," he whispers almost in awe. You grip his biceps and arch into him, pushing him deeper, faster. That makes him tsk but smiles at the same time as he pushes the rest of the way, finally seating himself. Without giving you a chance to relax he starts fucking you, his cock pushes perfectly against your insides, pulling sounds from you that you haven't made in years.

He sits back on his heels lifting your ass effortlessly until your weight is resting on your shoulders and neck. It's like he is in a trance, pulling you onto his cock over and over again. Your body is his, your mind has fled, and all you see and feel is just him all around you. His eyes keep changing between his dick filling your cunt, your bouncing tits, and your half-lit eyes as if he is not sure where to look. "Mine," he rasps and thrusts hard to empathize the word. "All mine. Say it."

It takes some time for your brain to connect to your mouth and form the words but his gaze never leaves you. "Yours," you whimper. "I'm yours, Bucky." There is a familiar heat low in your belly that's steadily spreading through your limbs. It makes you wiggle and move because it's overwhelming. He is overwhelming in the best sense. Whining you reach down to rub yourself but he slaps your hand away. "I thought I told you, it's mine. I own this cunt. If you wanna touch yourself you have to ask permission." It's as close to a growl as is humanly possible and you don't understand how he can be so cognizant right now, because your brain is like putty. "Can I please rub my clit Bucky, I wanna come on your cock so bad," you cry.

"Good girl," he praises, and when he calls you that, your mouth falls open with a keening sound, gripping the sheets even harder, pulling at them because you want to come so bad. "Do it, show me how you get off when you're alone in bed without me." Everything is slippery and sensitive when you start with your fingers and you immediately know it's going to go fast. With his previous words in mind, you ask. "Can I come?" He meets your eyes with a wicked smile. "Fast learner. Yeah, you can come… when I tell you."

You rip your hand away, afraid you might fall over the edge at any second. The sound out of your throat is almost a sob. "Don't be like that, doll, I thought you said you couldn't do it more times?" "I can-I can! As many times as you want just please let me come." "Fuck, I like it when you beg with my cock in you." But he doesn't say anything else, just continues fucking you. He's not even winded while you're straining your entire body. Your hand wants to move back, anything to relieve the pressure inside you but Bucky was very clear and you don’t want to disobey him.

Then he pulls out and drops you onto the bed, but you don't get to relax because he flips you onto your stomach and pushes one of your knees up to the side before he presses in. His dick hits your G-spot dead on and you scream into the pillow under you. Bucky chuckles right by your ear. "Guess I found it." He's merciless, his hips hit your ass hard and if it weren't for his weight pressing you down you would soon hit the headboard.

"Bucky!" you wail because it's too much. You're losing the last pieces of your mind to the sheer force of the pleasure and you're scared you're never going to be able to come back to yourself. Then his hand presses in between you and the mattress. "Rub yourself on my fingers, make yourself cum. Fuck my cock and come all over me doll." You brace yourself as best you can and move your hips as he keeps almost completely still, just shallow thrusts in stark comparison to what he was doing to you just moments ago.

His fingers slide along your clit, his cock brushing your G-spot over and over again. You're breathless, sweat breaking out along your skin, but the climax you're chasing will be well worth it. You just know it.

"I can't fill you up until I’ve felt you come around me," he grunts, his voice tight with holding back. You whimper, the feeling of fire flushing your whole body, and building up to an eruption like no other. "Yes, yes, yes," he chants low in your ear. "That's it, come for me, make me proud. Fuck it feels so good." And he starts moving again "I'm going to fill you fucking full of my cum. That's it!"

The heat in you breaks and you come with a shout of his name, shaking under him. It gets even more intense when Bucky finishes right behind you, groaning your name. He collapses on top of you but his hips are still moving, slowly, as if he doesn’t want it to ever end. Neither would you but your body is wrecked.

When he finally rolls off, you're so close to falling asleep, but he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. "Pee." He points and you want to tell him that you know the drill, this isn't your first time, but all that comes out is a grumble before he closes the door behind him and you sit down on the toilet.

When you're done, you stumble out and have a moment of panic, thinking he left. But then the door opens and Bucky returns with two bottles of water, handing you one before leading you to the bed and sitting you down on the edge. Gratefully you drink and lean against his shoulder before asking. "How do you feel?" "Better than I have in a long time," he answers, kissing your forehead. You chuckle. "Yeah I have a magical pussy, it can cure anything," you joke and it makes him laugh. "You should get back to quarantine," you comment. "Before anyone notices." He shakes his head. "No I'm staying here, I'm never leaving you again." He takes the bottle from your hand and places it on the bedside table together with his own. Then he crawls beneath the sheets and you go after him, letting him envelop you in a tight embrace before you fall asleep.

Alarms blare and you wake with a start. "FRIDAY what's going on?" you ask out into the room. “Sergeant Barnes has escaped his confinement.” The voice echoes through the room. You sigh and glare at Bucky grumbling beside you, like the loud signal is just a regular alarm clock. "FRIDAY please inform the team that Bucky is here and everything is fine."

A second later the sound dies and with a sigh you get up to pull on yesterday's discarded t-shirt and find a pair of pants. Right when you're done there is a knock on the door and Steve asks, "Everything okay in there?" You open the door enough to show yourself. "We're fine, he broke out during the night and came here." "Oh," Steve says and there is a hint of blush on his cheeks.

Then you feel a presence behind you and Bucky’s arm goes around your waist. "Mine," he says and you can't see him but he's probably glaring daggers at Steve who backs away. "We'll be okay, I'll alert FRIDAY if I need help," you tell Steve. When you close the door Bucky turns you before pushing you up against it and kissing you hard. "Mine," he mumbles against your lips. "Fucking caveman," you tell him. He grabs you around the waist and throws you over his shoulder. "I'll show you caveman," he says and carries you to the bed

[rinniessance]

BETWEEN A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE ༊*·˚ - leon kennedy x fem!reader x satoru gojo

leon kennedy has been announced mia after 24 hours of no contact. high brass doesn't care that you only came back from a mission a day prior, injured no less. when you're dispatched to spain, the last thing you expect is to get a special kind of rescue mission.

this is my entry for @rinhaler's gaming collab - MASTERLIST 🎮

꒰ warnings: nsfw - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ resident evil au. kind of following the plot of resident evil 4. aphrodysiac sex, unprotected sex, pet names (it's my staple <3), oral sex (f receiving), slight dacraphyllia, squirting, two dicks in one hole, cream pie. forgive me if i forgot any tags ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.8k ꒱ ꒰ notes: we love pure self-indulgence in this house .ᐟ.ᐟ tagging @mymegumi and @lilacliliess because they support my delusions about fucking two blue eyed men:3 ꒱

it’s been uneasy 24 hours in the D.O.S headquarters – ever since leon kennedy stopped responding to any attempts at communication, he’s been announced MIA this morning. given the sensitive mission of retrieving president’s daughter, the urgency to dispatch someone for another rescue is being pushed by the high brass, sending everyone on a search to find an agent capable enough of handling the job. as it turns out, out of dozens of people working in this forsaken organization, you’re the only one qualified.

“are you shitting me, hunnigan? i just came back from the mission last night. did you not see the stabbing wound?” for dramatic effect, you raise your t-shirt, showing freshly bandaged area where the deep cut resides. coming into the work this morning, the most stressful part of your day was expected to be the tons of paperwork you would’ve had to go through – yet as soon as you stepped into your office, you were greeted by leon’s handler, bearing the news from your superiors.

“sorry, you know it’s not up to me. whatever the president says goes.”

“are there literally no one else in this entire building who can be ordered to go instead?”

slumping over your desk, you put your head on top of your folded arms – it takes everything in you not to scream. your own mission was already problematic enough: bioweapon developers have become exceptional in making new B.O.Ws deadlier and deadlier, and knowing leon’s resume, there is a very high chance he was sent to deal with the worst of it.

“you’re one of the few partners kennedy has had while working for D.O.S. you know how he operates; it makes sense they are sending you.”

you know there is no point in arguing – if it’s been decided by the president, you have no choice but to go. it doesn’t mean, however, you can’t be irritated by the whole situation.

“do i at least get paid overtime?” you sign with exasperation, sulking deeper into your chair, hearing hunnigan let out a breathy chuckle.

“maybe if you bring golden boy’s ass back in one piece.”

“great. can i at least go home and make sure i didn’t leave the kettle on or something.”

“you’re not getting out of it, agent,” she says with a smile, and you can only groan. leon will be paying for all your meals for the next 6 months. “the helicopter is already waiting, actually, so you better gear your ass up and head to the helipad.”

“more amazing news.”

hunnigan only pats you on the shoulder – nothing she can say will make this situation suck any less – and leaves the room, letting you wallow in your misery.

“can you just fucking die already?” you yell in pure annoyance, trying to shoot the same person for the third time (you aren’t sure you can call these things human anymore). when the creature finally goes down, hopefully once and for all this time, the view in front of you is grotesque: hideous tentacle sprang out of the poor man’s head when you shot him between the eyes; it keeps moving, taunting you to waste more of your ammo. still holding onto your gun, you cautiously approach the body, slightly poking it with your boot – it doesn’t stir anymore. a sigh of relief escapes your lungs.

“just what the fuck is going on here,” you quietly mumble to yourself, looting any useful items nearby.

you arrived in spain this morning. surprisingly, leon made it easy enough to retrace his steps – he stopped by the local law enforcement which in turned let you know two of their men also went missing after they escorted kennedy to the area of interest. no one volunteered to come with you once you acquired the location of the small village somewhere north of here – apparently people have been going missing in the mountains for a while now – which was fine by you. everything you needed was the car you could use, and you were on your merry way.

in your 5 year long career as a government agent, the kind working in anti-bioweapon divisions, you’ve seen a multitude of… monsters, for lack of a better word. nothing could’ve prepared you for what you’ve witnessed when you arrived at your destination though: villagers turned into something sinister, creatures with no will of their own. you noticed it right away: their bulging veins pulsing with black viscous liquid, eyes shadowed with madness. what a surprise it was that when you finally started shooting them (hey, they started it), mandible-like limbs, shape closer to tentacles, with eyes growing out of them, erupted from their dead bodies, as if a swarm of crazy cultists wasn’t already enough.

you quickly glance at the still convulsing body on the ground, parasitic tendrils clinging onto their last living seconds; just looking at it makes you want to vomit. the smell of puss, heavy in the air, doesn’t help your desire to empty the insides of your stomach. you do not know what causes them to mutate, and you make a note to avoid any unknown substances – you also log a mental check not to get bitten by one of them (just in case).

after escaping a village, getting access to this stupid castle trying to find stupid stupid leon kennedy (you’re sure that what s. in leon s. kennedy stands for), you overheard some of the cultists talking about two prisoners on the basement level. leon and ashley? the goal now is to figure out how to get to the basement (and why does it always have to be the basement).

with careful precision, you finish analyzing the room you found yourself in – it’s a storage space of some kind, and nothing about it is particularly helpful to you. letting out a deep sigh, you sit down to re-collect your thoughts. wandering around this castle with no purpose will only stall you further – and time is something you do not have luxury of wasting.

just as you were about to get up from the chair, you knee bumps into something underneath the table. bingo. you quickly try to search for a keyhole or a puzzle piece to fit in to open the hidden compartment. but the gods are smiling down on you today – it only takes a simple click of a lock for the secret drawer to unlatch. before opening it, you stand to the side (the gunshot wound would mean deaths of all parties you’re trying to get out of here), and slowly push it forward with the knife.

“no way.”

the gods are smiling down on you– inside the drawer you don’t find a loaded shotgun, a poisonous smoke or anything else aimed at taking you out. instead, you find yourself looking at the map. something akin to relief makes your hands tremble as you unfold the treasured piece of paper, looking at the building blueprints, as fresh as if this was drawn yesterday.

tracing the way down to the basement level, you try to decide the easiest and shortest way. some of the rooms might require a key, deducting it’d be smarter to stick to the main rooms which are less likely to be locked. shoving the map back into your side bag, you reload the gun and slowly leave the room, looking for any signs of being followed. making sure the coast is clear, you start your way down.

leon, you better be still fucking alive.

leon wakes up from another torturous nap. he doesn’t know how long it’s been: could be 2 days, could be a week. to keep his sanity, he keeps trying to count the meals they bring them, figuring out the passage of time. why is salazar even feeding them? they’d worth more to him dead.

“good morning, sunshine.”

leon groans as soon as he hears the voice coming from his side. he doesn’t need to turn his head to know that satoru gojo is, despite the circumstances they found themselves in, still smiling.

“god, do you ever stop talking? they should starve you,” leon sighs heavily, and leans against the wall. his arms hurt – they have been cuffed to the ceiling this whole time, and the constant chatting from his unwanted companion makes this situation ten times worse.

“oh, common, don’t you have faith in your government? or you’re not important enough to rescue?”

“i might not be but the girl definitely is.”

it seems to shut satoru up, even if for a moment. his comments did make leon wonder if the headquarters organized the search party yet – more time they spent here means more time for the cult leaders to complete whatever it is they want with ashley. him and satoru have been infected with las plagas parasite too, their time is running short.

sighing deeply, gojo also slumps against the wall. both men can feel… whatever they were infected with moving inside their bodies, crawling their way into their brains. satoru is not sure what makes him and leon so special, but no signs of any infection have been visible yet. he wonders if it is a waiting game now: waiting for the moment they start losing their minds. what a sight that would be.

just as he was going to make another comment about their current predicament, both agents hear gunshots coming from the hallway, just outside the prison cells. blood curling screaming follows, rippling through the air, the unknown person emptying their clip into the guards until the room is engulfed in the oppressive silence.

to leon’s great surprise, and a great relief he must admit, it’s not a crazed guard running through the doors this time around – instead, two locked-up agents are met by your face. you hold your gun out, hand outstretched in front of you, ready to shoot the last remnants of the infected. it’s only when your gaze meets leon’s and you don’t identify any immediate danger, the gun is lowered, and you are rushing towards the cell.

“holy shit, it’s nice to see a familiar face,” leon cannot help but smile at the sight of you standing outside the cell bars, trying to break the lock.

“you won’t believe but the feeling is mutual. one too many mutated cultists, and even i started missing your ugly mug,” you throw back, returning his smile. your eyes move to gojo. “who’s that?”

“his partner.”

“no one.”

two men say that in unison, exchanging a heated glance afterwards.

“okaaaay,” you drawl out, “i don’t really care, you can bicker later. what we need to do it we need to get the fuck outta here like right now.”

you rush to uncuff the men with the keys you stole form the guards you shot earlier, and wait until they are able to push themselves on their feet.

“i am satoru gojo,” mysterious blond introduces himself properly, and extends his arm. you shake his hand and mumble your name back. you don’t know why but he makes you nervous.

“okay, all formalities for later. both of us are infected with that new plaga parasite, we need to extract it immediately,” leon interrupts the intense staring contest you entered with satoru, making you snap your attention back to him.

“well, then you’re in luck. i passed something that looked like a laboratory on the way here. it’s not too far either, only one floor up.”

“okay, great, no time to waste.”

kennedy steps out the room first, you and gojo following close behind. you’re on full alert – it doesn’t matter that you just took half of the castle down, somehow, new infected keep popping out like bunnies out of woodwork. it doesn’t take long the three of you to reach the desired destination, lab laying just behind the door straight off the stairs.

you cautiously look inside – no one seems to be here. after entering the room, you stand on guard while satoru and leon are looking for anything that might look like the cure. it seems that gods are smiling once again on you today because leon is able to find the last two vials of the vaccine sample. you have never seen him grinning so widely – it would’ve been almost heartwarming if not for the grim circumstances all of you ended up in.

before they can inject themselves with the medicine, the door swings opened and you’re thrown into the shelf, located on the opposite side of the entrance. multiple bottles with unknown substances fall on top of you, one of them breaking and infusing the air with a white powder. before you realize what happened, you inhale the mysterious concoction, immediately bursting into a coughing fit.

“fuck, are you okay?” leon yells your name somewhere from the side, and you try to wave him off. gojo is distracting whoever rammed through the doors, shooting the gun you presented him back in the prison cell. it takes exactly three more headshots for the mutated cultist to drop dead, and you’re pushing yourself off the ground and back on your feet. satoru is eyeing you suspiciously – you’re too busy brushing off your clothes and getting your breathing in order to notice.

“common, jab yourselves with the vaccine and let’s go, we have no time to lose,” you say with coarse voice. leon is also looking at you with worry but decides not to mention anything. both men inject themselves with the medicine, hoping and praying it’ll work, before rushing out of the doors and back on track to find ashley.

running through the corridors of the castle, you can feel yourself getting weaker – there is a sheer layer of sweat covering your spine, goosebumps are dancing on your skin, and a very familiar heat is pooling between your legs. your head feels heavy, you’re barely able to string two coherent thoughts together so you resort to slowly trailing after two men who haven’t stopped arguing about the next course of action.

“i don’t care what you came here for, satoru. i have my rescue mission that still needs to be completed,” leon sighs heavily as he pushes through the heavy doors into the next room.

“sure,” the other blond man quickly agrees, “but don’t you think you government would say ‘thank you’ if you helped securing the source of this outbreak?” gojo questions as he follows leon through the doors. you want to weigh your opinion in but before you can open your mouth, as you cross the threshold of the room, you trip on your own feets and send yourself flying towards the floor. the loud bang makes both men turn their attention back to you.

“god, are you okay?” leon’s by your side in mere seconds, supporting you by the elbow so you can get up. the waves of his body heat wash over you, and you want nothing more but to curl into his body and kiss the spot underneath his jaw. has he always been so handsome? you’re so concentrated looking at leon, you don’t notice satoru standing near you now. he touches your forehead, and it takes all of your willpower not to moan. fuck, his cold hands feel so nice on your feverish skin.

“shit, she’s burning up.”

“you think it’s because of whatever substance she inhaled back in the lab?”

“i don’t know, everything’s possible.”

two agents move you to sit on the table in the corner of the room – they can clearly see how foggy your eyes are, a layer of milky mist dancing across your vision – and leon’s fingers find your pulse point. this time, you are not fast enough to stifle the low whine that escapes your lips. at any other time, you’d be dying of embarrassment but now your body is begging for release, and you’re ready to do anything to get it. anything to soothe the ache building up in your throbbing clit.

“’m so hot…” you mumble as you start taking off tactical t-shirt, baring your sports bra to the two men in the room. “and it really hurts.”

satoru and leon look at each other before they look at you – kennedy will have to work with you in the future so he’s really trying not to look at your perky nipple, shape visible through the fabric, unlike gojo, who’s taking in your current condition with almost sick satisfaction.

“where does it hurt?” satoru asks before leon is able to butt in. as if wanting to confirm his suspicion, you take his hand and guide it to your sex, cupping it.

“here.”

leon is not even able to react before gojo is lunging forward and capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, making your head bang slightly against the wall. you let yourself moan into his mouth, satoru greedily claiming all the sounds to himself. it’s not nearly enough to pacify your accelerated heartbeat, but it’s still making you shudder. you’re spreading your legs to accommodate gojo’s tall frame – but before he is able to move any closer, he is thrown back by leon; loss of his warmth makes you whine.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” kennedy hisses through his teeth, moving away from you and towards gojo.

“what does it look like? don’t pretend like you don’t know this is exactly what she needs right now,” satoru spits back. you think they continue arguing but their voices are being drowned out by the ringing in your ears. heat spreading through you sets everything on fire, and your pants join your t-shirt somewhere on the floor in your desperate attempt to relieve yourself of this scorching feeling. your partner notices it and sharply turns to face you.

“what the hell are you doi-” before leon can finish his sentence, you wrap you legs around him and press your body into his.

“leon, please…” you sob, hot tears pooling in the corners of your eyes, beads of salty water wetting your eyelashes and blurring your vision. hearing your pathetic plea, voice thick with lust and desire, looking at your tears-stained face, mouth slightly agape, and watching your lips, red and messy from satoru’s kiss, glistening in the moonlight – everything about you now screams ruin me and leon is not a strong enough man to resist it.

“what are you asking me to do, sweetheart?” he whispers against your lips in a teasing tone. his switch is almost jarring but you don’t have the brain capacity to mull over his sudden mood change. he moves his hand between your legs now, touching your pussy through your panties. leon’s fleeting touch is sending shivers down your spine, and you culr yourself into him more, whining and panting against his mouth. “jesus, she’s so fucking wet already.”

“i told you, didn’t i? she needs someone to stuff her full of cum,” satoru’s dirty talk comes somewhere from the side. too distracted by leon’s deep blue eyes, gojo’s touch makes you tremble in surprise and turn your head towards him. looking at his face, you’re met by baby blues – it felt like being thrown from the ocean into the endless skies. you think men with blue eyes will be the death of you.

gojo leans down to capture your lips again, re-exploring the sacred geometry of your kiss, while leon is planting wet kisses along your jawline. you mewl in euphoric pleasure, their touches soothing to your burning skin, and you’re completely giving yourself away to the bliss rolling over you in waves. leon’s digits are teasing your clit through the fabric of your panties, and your hips instinctively buck into his hand, making him chuckle into your neck.

“she’s dripping, gojo. i bet she can take both of us unprepped,” leon says to the other agent, still busy with sucking on your lips, invading your mouth with his tongue. at his words, you shiver under men’s bodies, tingling sensation rushing through you.

“i want you in my lap, pretty girl,” satoru whispers against your lips, and you jump off into leon’s arms so the other man can sit on the table first. you move to climb on top of gojo, legs on either side of his thighs, ready to ride him, but your partner’s strong arm stops you from turning around.

“nah-ah, let him hold you spread open for me, i want to taste you first,” leon breathes against your ear, teasing the sensitive spot, making you quiver in his hold. you turn yourself towards gojo and see him grinning as he beckons you with two fingers to come closer. when you end up in his arms, he spins you around, his chest to your back, and makes you sit between his legs on the table, opening you up.

satoru’s masterful fingers unclasp your bra with ease while leon makes a quick work of your panties, shoving them into his pocket, unbeknownst to you. who knows how your relationship will work out after this – he needs something to remember this moment by. you are now sprawled completely naked for the two men’s hungry gazes: your cheeks are flushed, mouth shaped into a perfect “o”, short breaths escaping your lungs – you are truly a sight to behold. gojo wastes no time in cupping your breasts with his hands, trailing his lips on the side of your neck, sucking in hickeys as part of his claim.

kennedy gets on his knees in front of you, looking up into your eyes. gojo’s fingers are playing with your hardened nipple, making your hips buck upwards – right into leon’s mouth. his first languid swipe of the tongue comes just as satoru pinches your sensitive nubs, and you cannot help the pornographic moan escaping your lips.

“jesus, doll, who knew you’d sound so pretty,” it’s gojo’s voice against the shell of your ear, making you shudder. one of his hands keeps massaging your boob, twisting the nipple between his digits, while his other hand goes all the way down and spreads your folds for leon’s easy access. he hums in appreciation, and starts flicking his tongue up and down, drawing tight circles on your clit, sucking on it when he feels your legs tighten around his head.

agent’s movements make you squirm in satoru’s hold, dropping your head against his shoulder as leon continues eating you out. you’re absolutely incoherent now – your fever never dropped so your muscles are aching, toes curling in anticipation of the long awaited release, as you continue moaning through quick breaths.

“finger her.”

leon follows gojo’s command immediately, shoving his middle digit inside, while still lapping at your pussy. your walls clench against him almost instinctively, intrusion sudden but not unwelcome – he groans feeling the embracing heat of your cunt.

“fuck, she’s so fucking tight.”

gojo keeps your legs spread, you trying to close them around leon’s head as he keeps up his assault with his tongue. he’s nibbling on your clit, putting extra pressure with the tip of his tongue, licking it back and forth in quick succession, before flatting it to lick between your sticky folds, all the way down to the drooling hole. leon adds a second finger now, setting up a merciless pace – he is curling his digits in a heavenly way, able to hit the soft, spongy spot inside that makes you see stars and your pussy throb; you gasp loudly.

“i wish we had a phone to record this. you look so divine.”

you clench at gojo’s words, making leon groan. he’s now playing with your tits, rolling your nipple, tugging at them to add the painful sensation to the lit-up nerves. your desperate moans are bouncing among the walls, and gojo decides he wants to hear the squelching sounds of your pussy around leon’s fingers and his tongue’s wet sounds as he sloppily eats you out so he shuts you up with a kiss.

you feel your tummy begins tensing up as two men continue their ministrations: it’s satoru’s hot mouth on yours and his hands squeezing your tits, fingers playing with erect nipples; it’s leon’s tongue lapping at your pussy, precise circles on your clit and his digits scissoring you at a perfect speed, hitting the nerve bundle that rushes to send you over the end. your legs start shaking and you grab onto satoru’s arm around you to ground yourself.

“nnggh-…” you whimper into gojo’s mouth, and he finally lets you catch a breath. “’m so close,” you sob again, “’m gonna cum.”

“yeah, you want to cream all over agent kennedy’s face?” satoru taunts you from behind. “that’s so unprofessional,” he makes a tsk sound with his mouth and squeezes your cheeks to look at him.

“we’re feeling generous today, i think,” he quickly throws a glance down at leon, who only smirks as his tongue keeps licking and sucking at your clit. satoru looks you straight in the eyes as he slowly drawls his next words, “you may cum.”

the orgasm washed over you in glorious waves, rattling your entire existence. you’re scrunching your eyebrows, mouth agape with a sinful moan, as your thighs clasp around leon’s head. you’re quivering in gojo’s hold, his hands forcing your hips down, pressing them more against kennedy’s face. the latter doesn’t stop his onslaught, lips suctioning around the throbbing pearl, fingers still curled at earth-shattering angle. you try to move away but neither man lets you.

“uh-uh, where are you trying to run away? let him drink everything.”

and everything does leon kennedy drink – agent is lapping at your juices like a kitten at a fresh bowl of milk, now substituting his digits with his tongue as he keeps fucking in and out of your needy cunt. ministrations don’t stop, not even when your moans turn into little sobs as your body starts feeling overstimulated. your puffy clit is now ruined from satoru’s finger pads playing with it.

both men can feel your form shaking almost violently, gojo’s gathering your falling tears with his tongue. leon’s finally pulling his face away from your sex, standing up to look at your ruined state.

“god, i only ate her out and she already looks fucked out,” he chuckles to the other blond man, and moves to stand between your legs.

“let me taste her,” before you can react, gojo’s grabbing leon by the back of his head and capturing his lips in a heated kiss. trapped between a rock and a hard place, you can do nothing but observe the most passionate display of carnage you’ve ever witnessed – they were slobbering over each other’s faces, and it made your pussy clench around nothing. god, you can’t wait to fuck them both.

“she’s sweet, just how i like them,” satoru smirks against leon’s lips, turning his attention back to you immediately. “common, princess, you’re going to have to ride me if you want both of us.”

you’re quickly climbing on the table, straddling him. kennedy situates himself right behind you, warmth radiating off him like in suffocating waves. you’re trying to unbuckle satoru’s jeans to free his heavy cock, still trapped in confines of his boxer briefs, but leon smacks your ass, sending you forward into gojo’s embrace. it stings, the outline of his hand already forming a bruise, and you’d be mad if you pussy lips didn’t flutter at the slap.

“you’re taking too long, sweetheart,” you hear satoru, both men undoing their belts and zippers before you can, pulling out their leaking cocks. from your position you could only see satoru’s hard dick as he stroked himself near your aching hole, but what you’ve seen was enough to make you almost scared – gojo’s dick was long and blessed with a perfect curve, just upwards, one thick vein running prominently from the bottom of his shaft ending just before his mushroom head. you’re sure leon’s looked just as pretty.

“you haven’t said a word. you wanna ask nicely for what you want?” you hear leon behind you as he’s pushing you forward again, right into satoru’s chest, and teasing your waiting cunt with his thick tip – the mixture of his spit, your slick and his precum is dripping down satoru’s cock from where he’s positioned just underneath you, and the messiness of it all makes leon groan.

“please, i want your cocks inside me… please,” you sob out again, vocal cords heavy with tears.

“i think this will be our reward for saving us, how about that, huh?” there is a teasing tilt in satoru’s voice, and you grab at his shoulders, mewling like a needy animal in heat.

“yes, yes, anything,” you’re blabbering with teary voice, making men hard at the mere image of you: a capable agent reduced to a cock-drunk slut, an image that makes their cocks twitch.

leon grabs gojo’s member, giving it a couple strokes, surprising the white-haired man but hearing no complaints. his thumb is playing with the drooling slit of his tip, beads of pre-cum decorating the entrance to his flushed dick, and kennedy can’t help but smirk at how blissed out satoru looks. he’s guiding his heavy and red cock inside you, while his other hand rests on your waist. gojo’s forcing your hips down while bucking his up, and he fills you up in one long thrust.

“ah!” you cry out, biting your lip to the blood, metallic taste in your mouth almost overwhelming on top of the mix of pain and pleasure burning through your body. you’re whimpering into satoru’s mouth, while his hand is running soothing circles on your back.

“here you go, such a good fucking girl. taking me in so well, huh? all it took is one thrust, so perfect,” he’s blabbering against your skin as he starts sinking in and out of your sloppy hole. looking down, you can see the bulge in your tummy, and it makes you purr – you not only feel him splitting you in two, you are able to witness it. his reddened tip is meeting your cervix in a bruising kiss, and god, he’s making you fell so good.

you’re so lost in the rapturous sensation of gojo’s huge cock pushing against your gummy walls, you don’t notice leon’s presence behind you – he is grabbing your hips with one hand while his other is jerking his dick, prepping himself to enter you. his tip is near your whole when you finally realize what’s he’s trying to do.

“no! no, it’s too mu- ah!” he doesn’t let you finish before he start pushing himself inside, sliding alongside satoru’s heavy member, making the man grunt.

“fuck, feels so tight and warm,” you hear behind you as kennedy sets a punishing pace, sheathing himself into your abused hole. they are stretching you out to heavens, leon looking at your gaping cunt with pride. it’s fluttering and clenching around their huge cocks, your walls spasming in pleasure as their lengths are grinding against your soft spots. you can hear your pussy queefing, and the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin add to the dirty symphony.

“ngg, ngg- feels so, so goo-” you’re unable to finish your sentence as they keep bouncing you on their cocks, manhandling your body however they seem fit. you’ve never felt so full – both men keep drilling into you, like you’re no more than their little personal toy to play with. satoru grabs you by the back of your neck, biting at your lips, sloppily making out with you, while leon grabs your hair, forcing you back on his dick.

you can feel both cocks twitching inside you, approaching climax evident by their shallow breathing, moans hitching at every thrust of the hips. your walls are tightening around their cocks, and men’s whimpering and groaning is sinful to listen to, yet they are determined to make you climax first.

“common, gorgeous, cum around our cocks,” gojo hoaxes from underneath you. leon pushes your hips even closer into satoru’s body, your clit now grinding against his pubic bone, and it’s making you teeter on the edge of your bliss.

your bladder feels pressure you’ve never experienced before as gojo’s cock pressing against it from a perfect angle. leon is digging his fingers into the plush skin of your ass, rutting in and out of you, pushing against your back walls. all of your nerves are on fire, exploding fireworks in your brain, sending all your pleasure receptors into the overdrive. as your second orgasm washes over you, you’re left trembling in the men’s arms, leon’s chest against your back, your sweaty tits against satoru’s broad front.

“that’s a good girl, look at how cock-drunk you are,” you can hear them chuckle between themselves, not slowing down for a second. leon can see the white creamy ring enveloping the base of his cock in a soft embrace – it’s making him lose last of his slipping composure as he starts thrusting extra hard, thus speeding gojo up.

you bounce like a rag doll on top of gojo, having no semblance of control, being completely used by two agents. the pressure in your bladder comes back, and you throw your head back – your body continues quivering uncontrollably as you start sobbing again, tears drawing salty rivers on your cheeks, result of your body riding into stimulation. before you know it, something warm and so fucking wet starts gushing out of you. you want to look down, but men react first by groaning, voice impossibly thick with lust and awe.

“fuck, baby, didn’t expect you to squirt this much. so fucking filthy, i bet you waited to do this the whole time,” gojo grunts from underneath you, and you can only purr in response. it only takes couple more thrusts before leon and satoru synchronize their orgasms, shooting the ribbons of cum inside your womb, painting it pearly white, fucking it in warm and cozy. the squelching sounds ricocheting among the walls are nothing but sinful, and your cheeks flush red from the realization of what just transpired.

as both men pull out of your abused, stretched out hole, the combined mixture of all the fluids trickle down your thighs, making you groan in disgust. now that aphrodisiac has been fucked out from your system, you can’t even bring yourself to look them in the eyes. you hurry to pick up your clothes, but your legs give out underneath you – you’d end up flat on your ass, if not for leon who caught you mid fall.

tension in the air is palpable, electricity dancing on your skin is able to set everything on fire again. you’re ready to break the silence when satoru speaks first.

“you know, kennedy, next time you want to touch my cock, you don’t need to bring a woman between us.”

he leaves the room before either of you are able to force a reaction, and you wish you’d left both of them for dead instead.

© rinniessance do not steal, plagiarize or translate my works. do not recommend me on tiktok, thank you

[celiastjamesoscar]

Comfort Holds

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: A long day at work leads the best kind of de-stressing at home: Sam holding you.

Warnings: light cussing, mentions of overdoses, extremely soft Sam, Sam and R showering together, not proofread

AN: a real quick one in celebration of me passing my logic exam! I promise I will crank out some longer ones soon!! I also hate how I couldn’t find a good Hozier/Taylor/Lana song to fit this and it’s going to drive me nuts :(

My Masterlist

Word Count: 1.7K

With a soft sigh, you clocked out of work. Today was rough; it seemed like dispatch could not leave you alone, and the calls were the worst. Just today alone, you had four overdoses, which was a new record. On top of that, you also helped deliver a baby, which was a first. You didn’t hate your job, but sometimes you wished for a simple desk job. Something that wasn’t constantly putting stress on your body.

You locked the ambulance before leaving the station and getting into your car. Being an EMT was fun, and you enjoyed it, but just like any job, it had its ups and downs. As you put your key into the ignition, your phone dinged with a message, and your heart fluttered when you read the name.

Sammy Bear 🔪🖤: When will you be home? I miss you.

-Sam

You rolled your eyes with a small smile as you read the text. No matter how often you told her not to, Sam continued to sign her texts. At this point, you were convinced she was doing it to irritate you.

Y/N ❤️: Babe, I have you saved in my contacts. You don’t have to sign your name

You watched as the bubbles appeared and disappeared for several minutes, and you were starting to get worried you had upset Sam when she sent you a picture. The breath in your throat got caught, and your mouth started to water as you admired the jaw-dropping picture your girlfriend had just sent you.

It was a picture of her lying down in bed on her stomach. The angle at which it was taken had a perfect view of her cleavage, especially with the necklace that had your first name initial resting between her breasts.

The picture was effortless but still breathtaking, and you couldn’t believe how you managed to pull that gorgeous woman.

Sammy Bear 🔪🖤: Just answer the damn question.

-Sam

Y/N ❤️: …Not even 5 minutes

As soon as you sent the text, you drove your car and quickly hurried home to Sam. You two have been dating for almost six months, the best six months of your life. It took you several months to break down Sam’s mile-high walls, but after enough late-night conversations and you taking care of Tara while she was at work, Sam slowly allowed herself to be vulnerable with you. Sam didn’t trust easily; hell, sometimes she didn’t even trust herself, but when she was with you, she knew that she could trust you with her heart and her world: Tara.

Once you had won the approval of Tara (a trial that consisted of her forcing you to watch all of her favorite movies and shows), Sam finally opened up her heart to you, and within a week, you two were officially dating.

Within record time, you parked your car outside the Carpenter apartment and hastily approached Sam. When you reached the door to her apartment, you knocked three times and patiently waited for Sam to open up.

“Took you long enough,” the woman in question stated while opening the door. Like in the picture, she only wore a sports bra and leggings, and your mouth began to water as you admired her abs.

“I tried my best to get here quickly,” you retorted while entering your shared apartment. Technically and legally, it was Sam’s apartment, but you were over so much that you two started calling it your ‘shared’ apartment, and you couldn’t be happier.

Once Sam shut the door, you moved to hug her, but she quickly stepped back from you. “Y/N, I love you, but you smell,” Sam defended as she walked into her room, “go take a shower and change, then we can cuddle.”

You grumbled as you followed her and went to your shared dresser. The top two rows were for Sam, and the bottom two were for you, not that the factor in determining who was on top pertained to your sex life at all. No way.

Rummaging through the dresser, you pulled out a pair of shorts along with a baggy t-shirt and a pair of underwear and then carried them into Sam’s bathroom. You turned on the shower and stripped out of your dirty clothes, and deciding to see if Sam was lying, you smelt your shirt. You hated agreeing with your girlfriend, but it didn't smell good.

You threw your dirty clothes into the hamper before stepping into the shower. You were in the middle of washing your face when you heard the bathroom door open. “Hello?” You called up, and when your lips moved, you got soap in your mouth.

As your luck would have it, you were frantically trying to get the awful soap taste out of your mouth when Sam violently pulled back the shower curtain.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Sam!” You exclaimed as you touched your heart, “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Sam gave you a small laugh and racked her eyes over your body. “You look pretty,” she stated when her eyes reached your face, silently laughing at your startled face covered in soap.

“Thank you,” you replied before sticking your face under the water and washing off the soap. By the time it took you to get the soap off, Sam had undressed and stepped into the shower behind you. Her firm, muscular arms embracing you from behind.

“I miss you, baby,” Sam mumbled against your neck as she hugged your back, kissing your neck. “I missed you too,” you replied, leaning against Sam’s hold and relaxing.

Sam hummed against your neck as she held you tighter. You were her home, and she only ever felt entirely safe in your presence. In time, she planned to make a wife out of you, but only if you wanted her. Sam would move Heaven and Hell for you; she would fist-fight God himself for you, but she would never do something you weren’t okay with. So, if you were crazy enough to grant her your hand in marriage, Sam’s life would be complete.

“How was work?” Sam asked as she let go of her hold on you, grabbed a shampoo bottle, and put some on her hand. “It was rough, to say the least,” you replied with a weak smile, even though Sam couldn’t see it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sam asked as she set down the bottle and rubbed the soap together in her hands. “Not really,” you replied while Sam massaged your scalp and applied the soap to your hair. You knew about Sam’s past drug addiction, so you didn’t want to tell her about all the overdoses you encountered today. “But,” you cheerfully stated, “I did help deliver a baby!”

“Oh yeah? Who would trust you with their baby?” Sam teased while she ran her fingers through your hair. You huffed at her words, “A woman who is shooting a child out of her vagina at rocket speed, that’s who.”

Sam laughed at your response and turned you to face her, “You’re a smart-ass, you know that?”

“I know, but I’m your smart-ass,” you said with a smile as Sam gently pushed you backward into the running water of the shower. “Yes, you are,” Sam replied as she began washing the shampoo out of your hair.

It wasn’t rare for Sam to wash your body, as it was her own way of worshiping you. She loved touching your body in more intimate ways than sex, and she also loved that you trusted her enough to allow her to connect with you in such ways. The respect you both had for each other was undeniable, and your love was sacred; no one could ever shake it or ruin it.

For the remainder of the shower, you and Sam took turns washing each other’s body. And when it was time to get out, you both dressed in clean clothes and brushed your teeth. It wasn’t much, but you would kill for these domestic moments with Sam.

“Come here,” Sam said as she climbed into her bed and opened her arms to you. You smiled at her as you turned off the bathroom and bedroom lights and got into bed next to her.

Within a second, Sam had her arms wrapped around your waist and was pulling you into her chest. You placed your head on her chest as one of her hands left your waist and gently rubbed your back.

“Sam? Can I ask you a question?” You asked after Sam had turned on the lamp next to her bed. “Of course, my love,” she responded as her fingers lightly danced across your back, even though you felt her tense up.

“Can you please try not to snore tonight?” You pleaded with beady eyes as you looked up at her, and you could see her visibly relax. “Y/N, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, but I do not snore,” Sam declared with a hurtful look in her eyes.

“Oh come on, you big baby,” you jolly teased as you propped yourself up on the bed with your elbow and looked at Sam’s big, brown eyes, “You snore, and you know it.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yes, you do! I even recorded you, Sam!”

“That’s a fake video,” she defended, “Why do you hate me?”

Now, this question was her favorite card to play. No matter what you two argued about, this one never failed her. When Sam played this card mixed in with her puppy dog eyes, she knew you were a goner.

“Sam,” you whispered as a hurt look quickly replaced your teasing, “You know I love you.”

“Then why do you insist I snore when I do not?” Sam questioned as you unpropped your elbow and laid back on her chest, listening to her comforting heartbeat.

“Because I love teasing you, Sam. And because your snoring is awful, you should seriously get it checked out,” you responded sarcastically. “Haha, you’re so funny,” Sam dryly replied but hugged you tighter, telling you she was joking.

The two of you talked about your day for several more minutes before you yawned, and Sam reached over to turn off the bedside lamp. You were still lying on her chest as sleep slowly took over your body whenever you heard the faintest whisper, “Delete that video of me snoring.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @elduster @silentwolfsstuff

I stole the text messaging part from the great @maskthedwarf <3

[rottenpumpkin13]

Imagine the firsts getting competitive over queens blood

Why Queen's Blood Is Banned From SOLDIER, A List

• Some people don't know how to play fair and make up rules on the spot, which results in arguments between opponents. One time Zack made up the rule that slapping down three cactuar cards automatically wins the game, and Kunsel was so enraged he shoved a cactuar card down Zack's throat.

• Some people⏤Sephiroth⏤are too good at QB and and it angers others who don't stand a chance against them, leading to cheating accusations. This came after Angeal was so convinced Sephiroth was cheating that he called the police. This resulted in Lazard having to explain to the dispatched officers that the "cheating" in question was because of QB and not Sephiroth cheating on his apparent lover Angeal.

• Some people⏤Genesis⏤don't know how to lose, which turns the above point violent. Genesis has been known to throw entire decks out the window and set them on fire if he loses. If he loses to Sephiroth, guarantee the table will be broken in half and they end up on the ground in a fist fight.

• Sephiroth lost to Genesis once and Genesis never let him forget it, bringing it up in every conversation. Sephiroth grew tired of this, so he did the healthy thing and attempted to staple Genesis's mouth shut.

• The matches take too long because no one wants to lose, so they spend time planning their moves and strategies. One match between Angeal and Zack took three hours, they skipped a giant mission they had been prepping for weeks for, Lazard had a heart attack, and in the end Zack realized he had spent three hours pouring his concentration into the game for nothing. He had to be sedated.

• The Counterfeit Booster Pack Fiasco: Kunsel started selling shady "limited edition" QB decks behind Lazard's back⏤selling things is also banned from the 49th floor. They started selling like hot cakes, but Lazard caught wind that there was something going on. So he interrogated Sephiroth.

Lazard: I know that there's unauthorized goods being distributed amongst the program.

Sephiroth: You don't say.

Lazard: Tell me what it is.

Sephiroth: How would I know?

Lazard: Eyewitnesses claim to have seen you purchase something from Kunsel in the men's bathroom this morning.

Sephiroth, not thinking AT ALL: It was candy.

• And that's why sniffer dogs were brought in at 9 AM on a Wednesday and everyone had to do a drug test.

• Random people pop in at random times of the day to play against SOLDIERs. Reno uses this as a way to bet money and has scammed Zack out of three paychecks already. Cloud swings by on occasion to beat all three 1sts, enjoy watching them lose, and leaves.

• Deck theft runs rampant. Every day there are reports over stolen QB decks and accusations that have ruined several friendships, which hinders everyone's ability to work together. No one is safe. Sephiroth's deck got stolen, Genesis's deck got stolen, Angeal accused Sephiroth and Genesis of theft, Zack....has a suspicious amount of good cards.

• People play when they should be working.

Lazard: Angeal, where's your mission report?

Angeal: Genesis ate it.

Lazard: Excuse me?

Angeal: I beat Sephiroth in a QB match and Genesis was so jealous and enraged he grabbed the report right off my desk and chewed off a chunk.

Lazard: I'm convinced that there's crack in those apples.

• The straw that broke the camel's back and got QB officially banned, though, was the match between Sephiroth and Genesis that ended in them getting stitches because they discovered a way to effectively stab each other with the cards.

• Its rumored that the mere mention of Queen's Blood is enough to make Lazard have a nervous breakdown.

[rustedhearts]

the old house (boxer!steve harrington x librarian fem!reader)

summary: steve's world is shaken when his father unexpectedly dies.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the king of the ring (1995) ✶ record store

✶ the library

tags: death; mention of childhood abuse/trauma; daddy issues; manhandling; grumpy (for good reason) steve; ansgst; hurt/comfort; not edited so ignore any mistakes.

“i would rather not go back to the old house. there’s too many bad memories.”

— back to the old house, the smiths

california, september 1995

LOCAL ATTORNEY FOUND DECEASED IN OFFICE

Sept. 12, 1995

HAWKINS, INIDANA — Local attorney Richard “Rich” Harrington was found dead in his office Thursday evening.

Police dispatched to the office on Main St when his assistant called with concern for his well-being after the phone went unanswered for over 12 hours. When the door to the office was unlocked on arrival, his assistant, Ms. Betty Nesbourne, knew something was wrong.

Emergency services found Mr. Harrington at his desk. Police have confirmed the cause of death was a heart attack.

A well-respected attorney, Richard Harrington had a practice on Main St for 20 years before his death, and won countless cases for those in need in Hawkins. Friends and family recall him as a “kind and loving man.”

Mr. Harrington is survived by his wife, Catherine Harrington and son Steve.

Steve dropped the newspaper on the kitchen table with a sharp slap. His hand came to his eyes to soothe the ache that gathered there, knee bouncing against his chair. His fist rattled where it sat on the placemat next to a vitamin you set out for him. You handed him The Hawkin’s Post—still folded and in its sleeve from delivery—with a kiss on his cheek and a beautiful grin.

He never expected to find this when he opened it.

“Honey, have you seen my Nike hat? I don’t want the sun in my face today,” you called from the top of the stairs, readying yourself for the day.

Steve lifted his head, inhaling sharply. He cleared his throat and pushed his fist against his knee to stop it from jostling.

“Uh…closet probably, baby.”

Your feet scampered away to search, and Steve sighed. His eyes glazed over the letters that made up his father’s name on the inked paper before him. He knew nobody was eternal, that death was inevitable.

For some reason, he never prepared himself for this. For his useless father’s death.

And right now, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

He wanted to be angry. Hell, he should have been angry. He had every right after they had the balls to call someone like Richard Harrington “kind and loving.” Anyone that ever came into contact with him knew he was nothing of the sort.

Angry, too, that Steve never had the chance to tell his father how he truly felt about him. That he never had the opportunity to dole out his own form of punishment; the punishment Steve had to endure growing up. Because he was bigger, stronger, grown. He could’ve put his father on his ass in five minutes flat.

But every time he drove past his childhood house, all Steve wanted to do was get sick.

“Honey?”

Steve’s head snapped over toward you peeking around the doorway, donning his favorite jeans that sat a little low on the hips and a tight half shirt You found your Nike hat, and it now sat atop your head. Even how gorgeous you looked couldn’t quell Steve’s sudden confusions.

“Yeah.” Steve cleared his throat again, folding the newspaper again.

“You ready to go? We’re gonna be late if you still wanna stop for smoothies.”

“Comin’,” Steve mumbled, standing from the table.

He took the newspaper with him, staggering toward the bedroom with apparent soreness from a healing bruise. You glanced at the vitamin next to his coffee and rolled your eyes.

Upstairs, Steve shoved the newspaper into one of his shirt drawers and slammed it closed.

✶ ✶

"Everything okay?"

You smoothed your hand over the back of Steve's hair in the Cadillac, top down to let in the beating sun. The wind ruffled his long locks, tickling at his eyes covered with a pair of Ray Bans. He had one hand on the wheel and the other dangling over the door—normally, one parked itself in your lap to roam and massage. It wasn't like him to opt out of touching, even on event days.

"Yeah," Steve replied shortly, pumping the gas to send the car jolting through a barely-green light.

You let your hand rest on his back, skin hot through a thin t-shirt. "Okay...you sure?"

"Yep."

You took your hand away, diamond ring catching a glint of sun on its journey to your lap. You fingered the stone absentmindedly, your next "okay" small and quiet.

The low hum of tires over the road and the occasional click of the turn signal filled what was otherwise an empty car. Sirens, car horns, the whoosh of a gentle, morning breeze.

A convertible of women driving alongside in the opposite lane recognized Steve, and passed him a carful of ecstatic waves. He didn't even acknowledge them. You offered them a smile, but it wouldn't soothe the sting. You knew that disappointment all too well.

Steve zoomed the car up to the curb of your local smoothie bar, slamming the door hard when he got out. He yanked your door open and stepped aside, winding an arm around your shoulders as you stepped onto the street—but it all felt mechanical. You peered up at his expression, and it was entirely vacant. He was pressed up right against you, but he felt lightyears away.

Something was wrong—why didn't he just say so?

He ordered your smoothies and leaned back against an empty table near the wall. You tucked your hands into your back pockets, eyes on the tops of your white tennis shoes. The urge to ask once more what was wrong gnawed at you with need, but you were fearful of his eyes cutting down too hard again. You hadn't been afraid of Steve and his moods in quite a while.

Not since he put this ring on your finger last year.

Attention directed downwards, you were oblivious to the bustling crowds strolling in after morning workouts and vigorous runs—until an elbow swung a little too close to your face, a body knocked backwards by an unsuspecting and friendly shove.

A young boy, no more than eighteen, spun around with pink cheeks and a sheepish grin. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry."

You all but looked away, soaked in shame from what you knew was coming next. Steve pushed off the table behind you, a heavy paw shoved against the younger boy's chest. He teetered off balance, eyes wide on his attacker and the glare marking him victim.

Keeping a sharp eye on the boy, Steve grabbed at you by the bicep and tugged you into him. More mechanical pushes and pulls, more hardwired roughness he worked hard to outgrow. But whatever grieved him, whatever he sat and stewed on, sent him spiraling back into a troubled boy.

Worse than the roughness was the absence of words that accompanied it. The lack of commands or reassurances. Just silent glares and hard-set jaws that said all they needed to say.

Strawberry-banana smoothie freezing cold in your hand, you trailed after Steve with a lump in your throat.

At the arena, he plowed past Big bidding him good morning and stomped straight for the dressing room. The coach's eyes slid over to you, throwing up his hands.

"What crawled up his ass?"

You gave a tiny shrug. "Been like this all morning."

Big huffed, returning to his task of wiping down the ring for morning training. Steve had until two o'clock, then would return home to rest until the fight at eight. You hoped at some point he'd calm down.

"Better get it out of his system before tonight," Big grumbled, shaking his head.

Your silence was agreement, and you hurried to the dressing room to tell Steve just that. When you pushed the door open, you found him seated on the leather bench with his back to the door, staring at his poster on the wall.

Clamping the door closed, you tossed your smoothie into the trash bin and huffed. “What the hell is your problem today?”

He shed his shirt sometime before you came, and the bare muscles of his broad back constricted and flexed as he wound a roll of black tape slowly around his fist. His eyes were steadily fixed on the wall, boring into his own face printed in red. More mechanical movements. More empty thoughts.

“Steve.”

He stopped rolling, a ribbon of unfurled tape dangling over his thigh. In the attached bathroom, an echoed water drip plopped. People were arriving outside, filing in and out of the hall. Conversation hummed through the door.

“Dad died.”

When you drop on a roller coaster, all the adrenaline in your body festers in one spot. It all squirms and sizzles behind your navel, bringing the rest of your body to a cold chill. That very feeling overwhelmed your body now.

“W-what?”

Steve tore his eyes away from the wall and placed them on his hand. “Thursday. Heart attack...found 'im in his office."

Your feet moved on their own accord, taking you to Steve where you knew you needed to be. Your arms collapsed around him, face buried in his neck with a hiccuped sigh. His hands remained limply in his lap, eyes casting a ghostly glance upon the tops of his shoes.

"Oh, Steve," you whispered, mouth squished against his shoulder.

Steve had one photograph of his family in the house. Hidden in a photo album behind a page of high school memories: his father in a grey suit, his mother in a turquoise dress with shoulder pads, fourteen year old Steve wearing a sweater to hide the bruises on his arms. It was his father's birthday, and the only time, Steve said, he pretended to love Steve.

But still, scrawled in a fourteen year old boy's chicken scratch across the back:

Mom, Dad + Me

For a moment, you stood there breathing into him. Feeling the size of his own inhales and exhales expand your arms and close them in. Lips pressed to his warm flesh through crisp cotton, thinned a little with sweat. Feeling him pause every few moments, as though to check that he were still, in fact, breathing.

"Saw it..." Steve paused again, and then deflated with a humorless scoff. "...in the newspaper this morning."

You lifted your mouth from his shoulder, chin pressing down in its place. Your adjusted your arms to tighten around him, cheek leaning into his. He was so warm, so suddenly small.

It suddenly occurred to both of you in this moment that his mother had no way to contact him. Even if she wanted to call, she hadn't had his phone number since he turned eighteen.

He scribbled it on a torn piece of paper the day he moved out and tucked it in her drawer. For months, he waited for her call. It never came.

"Isn't that fuckin' ridiculous?" Steve shook his head, a sigh shot through his nose.

You rubbed you hand over his chest, eyes sinking shut. "Jesus, Steve."

Are you okay? was the obvious next line of questioning, but it seemed silly in this moment. Of course he wasn’t. Steve might not have loved his father, might not have known the person he’d become (or stayed) the past ten years, but that didn’t make this any less painful. In fact, it likely made it more painful. To have your father die without truly knowing the man.

"Should I talk to Mikey? See if they can push—"

"What? No," Steve huffed, head craning closer to yours. "M' gonna fight."

You recoiled enough to meet his eye, brows furrowed at the determination in his gaze. "Are you sure?”

Steve clasped a big, warm hand over your own. A gentle pat, a barely-pressed squeeze. His eyes turned away, and he stood to his feet.

“Gonna head out. Stay close, ‘kay?”

He staggered toward the door, and you whirled around. “Wait, Steve—“

The door clamped shut, and the buzz of florescent light was all that filled the quiet.

✶ ✶

He fought, just like he said he would. You sat erectly in your front row position, every breath inhaled held too long in your chest. Your nails pierced divots into your palm from tightly clenched fists. Your legs hadn’t stopped bouncing against the seat.

Every bloody blow had you wincing, each narrowly-dodged swing pulling a gasp. By the fourth round, Steve was staggering to his corner and spitting an alarming amount of blood into his bucket. His left brow split open again. It took the gentlest of taps to rip the skin that never healed correctly. He’d probably need stitches, like he always did.

Under Big’s words screaming at him and a cloth firmly pressed into his wound, Steve’s eyes were empty. Glazed over, mouth lolled open, shoulders slumped forward. It wasn’t his usual huffing, brutish, bull-like performance. It was instinctual, but free of thought.

Right now, you knew Steve wasn’t there. He was in his head, far away in a mess of thoughts. The blinding lights, the frenzied crowd, your own worried face watching him—none of it even registered to him.

The bell dinged, and back in he went. His punches held half the weight, half the power and drive. His dodges and sweeping side steps were stuttered and skipped. It was a dangerous game to play, and sickening to watch. You had every urge to run in front of his opponent and block the next swing, knowing Steve would let it hit him where it hurt.

But you sat where you were, nibbling on the skin around your nails, stamping your heel vigorously on the arena floor. It felt like waiting a lifetime just for that victory bell to ring.

It came out narrowly in Steve's favor. Sculpted arm a limp, weak thing in the referee's hold, drooling blood down his chest. His eyes found a spot on the floor and never left it.

Not until he trudged his way to the dressing room, and he found you seated on the bench. His eyes lifted from the ground and peered into you: blown-wide and still bleary, but alarmed in a harrowing way. A breath shuddered through his cheeks, escaping him with bloodied spittle that rolled down his chin.

They hadn't stitched him up yet. Boils of blood beaded along his cheek and temple, splattered across his chest. His gloves were looped together and strung around his neck. They were the first thing you removed when you stepped forward.

"Hey," you greeted softly. Steve followed your movements silently, blinks slow and staggered. "You did good, baby."

He swallowed, and it came with winced difficulty. A little wheezed, a little struggled where his nose bent from crushing force. He'd need it set again. It sat in a bulging, crimson aggravation in the center of his face. Everything about him was puffed up, bleeding, and pulsing with pain.

But he was the smallest he'd ever been.

"You gotta get stitched up, baby," you whispered, manicured thumb wiping through a smudge of blood on his cheek.

His hands smoothed over your hips, tongue darting out to lick over the split in his lip. "In a minute," he mumbled.

His steps forward sent you backward, guided blindly toward the bench again. You sat instantly, hands braced on his arms still buzzing with heat and adrenaline. You had only a moment to glaze over the state of him before his head fell forward against your chest.

"Oh," you gasped, warmed immediately by the damp heat of his head and the weight of him pressing into you. "Oh, hey, baby, it's okay."

Arms looped around his shoulders, you let your cheek fall atop his head, pushing past the salty, musky scent wafting from the heat of him. Comforting him was the only thing that mattered right now.

Steve's fists pressed into the bench, bookended on either side of your body. His cheek squished against the cotton of your dress, staining the fabric with the blood weeping from his severed flesh.

On the other side of the door, shoes squeaked over polished floors in a bustle to get somewhere. There was an order of things after a fight, necessities and niceties that needed to be carried out. Right now, as you smoothed your fingers through his dripping hair and massaged the knots in his back, you knew Steve wouldn't be doing any of them.

"He'll never know me," Steve mumbled into your skin.

You sighed, eyes sinking closed. The ache that festered in your chest, you knew, was no match for his.

"He didn't deserve to."

On the other side of the door, cameras waited to click Steve's photograph. Fans waited for autographs, his coach waited for a celebration, his manager waited to plead for another endorsement. It was a money-hungry, vain soulless scheme.

In this room, pressed against your familiar frame, Steve knew the only real thing in this world was right here under him.

[the-xolotl]

Thundering Rain

Qí Yù | Rafayel x Reader

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: You and Rafayel cozy up during a cold storm to enjoy each other’s company when you realize he got up for something but didn’t come back to cuddle you.

—• TAGS: Domestic fluff, kinda ooc Rafayel (? if you squint), no use of Y/N, use of the pet name my love, beta read (imagine that)

A thunderstorm had been raging outside for hours now and you are thankful, for once, about the harsh seasonal changes because not just did you enjoy the rain and the majestic flashing of light that occasionally lit up the otherwise dark gray sky, you didn’t have to go to work. You could enjoy a leisure day indoors, listening to the calming sound of the rain hitting the window and the deep thunder clapping after each rapid flash of light with a warm blanket and hot beverages.

It’s true you loved your job, loved the adrenaline of being a hunter, the thrill of battle, but it was nice to sit back and relax for a bit. And some reprieve was definitely due after these past few weeks, Linkon City had been seeing more and more Wanderers roaming inside the more civilian populated areas, your team along with some back ups had been dispatched as first responders almost every time; it’s been busy to say the least.

And Rafayel had definitely not appreciated your constant absence. You don’t blame him, you missed him too. Because your job wasn’t just turning monsters to dust and protecting innocent people; each attack meant a lot of paperwork, desk work, meetings. It meant time away from home and away from your already clingy, needy lover.

Who, speaking of, had suspiciously gotten up from cuddling you in the sofa and hadn’t come back.

The now cool spot behind you made you realize his absence. But as you were about to get up to look for the purple-head you heard his voice, “Stay where you are, how you are, for another 30 minutes…” Rafa trailed off.

He didn’t even ask politely yet you remained on your spot no questions asked and turned your head back to look outside the large, tall window that gave the perfect view to the backyard. “So that’s where you’ve been the whole time,” you chuckled softly, of course he was.

“Inspiration should never be wasted or ignored. The best master pieces ever created were in spontaneous bursts of creativity,” He stated as if it was the most honest to god truth. Yeah, alright.

Amused you simply retorted, “Is that a fact?”

“Most likely,” he shot back before taking a small pause, “Besides, you barely noticed after almost an entire hour I didn’t come back beside you.”

The last part sounded more begrudging, you didn’t have to look at him to know he’s pouting. You couldn’t help but giggle, “Yeah, my back was getting cold. That’s how I noticed you were still gone.” Rafa let out the most offended scoff, he didn’t even dignify with an answer.

The room falls silent again save for the rhythmic pattering of rain, it’s then you realize he’s actually concentrating and you can’t help the little leap your heart makes. “Are you painting me?”

“As I was coming back from the kitchen the scene and atmosphere looked perfect so I just had to capture it,” he explains, “I haven’t had the opportunity to play around with darker tones or paints in a while and I recently acquired some very high quality materials to produce stunning shades. Very rare finds, honestly.” The Lemurian continued on to explain how and where he’d manage to obtain them, of course pointedly mentioning that he needed something to do in your absence because it was just so so boring.

More than half an hour had past, that’s for sure, as you filled the time with more banter and teasing remarks.

“Rafa can I move now? I’m going to have neck pain and be stuck in this position forever if I don’t get up soon,” you whine loudly, “The painting won’t be needed to immortalize this moment then.” He only tsk’s at you, calling you over to see the painting.

“Holy shit you weren’t kidding, the pigments are so rich!” You know little to nothing about art, any scattered knowledge or artsy lingo has definitely come from listening to your boyfriend talk about art. You study the painting detail by detail, from top to bottom. He really does deserve the fame, not that you’re biased.

Rafayel smiles big like a satisfied cat (ironically) at your praise and expression of awe.

Though the more you steady the painting the more you realize the gloomy tempest going out outside was definitely not the focus of this piece like you had originally thought, despite the fact that the oversized window gave the perfect opportunity to capture it so.

Instead you realize most of the spotlight was you. Rafayel had clearly taken his time; each curve of your features was perfectly drawn and shaded, the way the light made light and dark contrasts against the little skin that was not covered by the quilt, the shine in your eyes that reflected the lighting that occasionally flashed and the hair that framed your face. The content of your expression clearly denoting how engrossed you’ve been on the weather outside, he even included the faintest curl of the corner of your lip. And you looked cozy as hell with the blanket all the way tucked up to your chest and your hands wrapped around the (then) steaming mug of coffee.

A heat crept up your cheeks and chest. Is this how he saw you? Is this what his eyes see when he looks at you? Truly? You must’ve had your thoughts written in your face because he breaks the long silence with in a soft voice, “You are the inspiration of the painting, my love,” circling back to one of his earlier comments. You turn to face him fully, meeting eyes as he was already looking at you, as soft smile that matched the softness of his voice spread across his lips.

“It’s going to be part of the next exhibit, on a very special spot.”

“I’m sorry what?” You lamely ask, astonished but still in a monotone.

Rafayel had the audacity to laugh in your face as he gave the cavas a few strokes with the brush to accentuate some shadows. “It’s not finished yet, of course. I will accept no less than perfection,” he says slowly, words as methodical as his painting technique, “Specially when it comes to you.”

If you weren’t blushing before you sure are now. You shove him gently when he takes the brush off the painting, attempting and failing to hide how much he managed to fluster you.

Another long pause passed, but this felt more intimate, watching him closely add some details, switch between different size brushes for finer details. Rafayel sure went into his own bubble when he worked, yet he is always somehow very aware of his surroundings. At least at the moment he was.

“Not a lot of people get the privilege to watch me like this, so up close, let alone live. Are you feeling how privileged you are?” The tone of playful arrogance brings you back and pops the bubble of comfortable silence. But it does make you giggle.

These little moments make you fall deeper in love with him.

⟢ A/N: feels kinda funny posting my writing for the first time in the internet tbh. i usually only write for my friends/myself so i hope you enjoy my lil rot. it’s been raining so much in my area it gives me a very cozy vibe.

—

© 2024 the-xolotl — all rights reserved. do NOT alter, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.

—

⤷ dividers : cafekitsune ✰

[pulpbeing]

you should make him bark for you. make him hump your thigh and bark so he can cum, maybe tightening the collar on his neck just a little so he feels his throat squeezing. a leash would suit his outfit well i think 💭

okay okay okay okay let me cOOK

barking.

donald’s way too fucking eager for praise. his ‘dispatch complete’ line, for example, where his voice drops as he asks for a ‘commendation ceremony’— your praise. he loves when you invest in his abilities to make him stronger, more powerful, shackle him further, make him yours even more than he already was. he wouldn’t think twice before barking for you if you even mutter it with half a mind or have your heels on his throat: he’s barking, full-chested and smiling, just because you wanted him to do it. he’ll bark, bark all day, howl from pleasure, he’s forgetting his words as he whines as you push yourself back into him, dragging his shaking legs back to wrap around your waist and go for another round… and he’ll still let out a weak ‘w-woof’ as he presses as close as his body could allow.

humping.

dear lord i need this in my life. no cap as the kids say. like barking, you don’t even have to finish the sentence, let alone repeat it even once as he strips himself of his clothes and leaves nothing but that collar on, maybe that necklace that falls perfection between his tits. his funny little carefree, blasé attitude he usually holds crumbling away the moment he’s alone with you because he’s just your puppy, your good boy. a good boy takes only what he’s given, and when told to only hump your thigh, your boot, your hand? he’ll do it, clinging to you all the while and thanking you, thanking you, thanking you, for letting him breathe, for letting him stay with you, for indulging him in his pleasure. it never takes him too long to cum like that— but don’t worry. he can go as long as you want him to. ignore his aging bones; he’s your good boy first and foremost, he can go as long as you tell him to. one, two, three, five loads coating your skin and his grip bruising as he thanks you once again.

the collar & leash. ( THE LEASH‼️‼️‼️ 🧎🧎🧎)

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck you fuck donald fuck fuck fuck i love leashes and collars and clear ownership that anchors the sub down. him keeping the leash on even in his cell just to see it hang from the collar on his neck, biting his lip shyly in a feeble attempt to distract himself of all his dirty little thoughts <3 donald who was breathless when you first got the pretty thing and personally put it on his bare neck, that proud gaze of yours making him melt like nothing else and solidifying the fact he was yours, set in stone before, until his death (shackles? more like marriage), this just shows everyone, sinners and not, the wealthy and the starved: he’s yours, yours, all yours. everyone knows he’s your lapdog, your darling puppy that stays at your side. donald who stutters when he spots your hand even nearing the leash, let alone the near orgasmic feeling of you pulling on it to make him follow you, get him even closer to you. he’s crawled on all fours and barked for you, leash in your hand as your precious pup keeps his hands down and uses his teeth to open up your pants to reveal what he’s grown to crave the most outside of your presence. donald whose eyes glaze over in pure submission any time you tighten his collar up or use the leash to keep him all too close for anything professional, having him rather obey you than think of getting more oxygen to live, panting like a proper dog if you don’t have him choking on something better. donald who, shit, you don’t even have to use your shackles on to get him to obey any command. dispatches, special training, sitting under your desk and staying quiet so your adjutant doesn’t hear as he deepthroats or suckles at your member. he’s got his head on your shoulder and whining like a needy little thing when he isn’t pawing at your pants, begging for you to use him because he knows you’re stressed </3 use him! he can take it! remind him of his place by stepping on the leash and forcing him away— not for too long, though. he might have grown addicted to his position under you.

[actuallysaiyan]

NSFW prompt #4 with Dante please

warnings: mentions of wounds, reader is a demon hunter, smut, rough kissing, nudity, Dante being Dante

It's tough to keep up with Dante and his twin as they hunt demons. You're good, as you've been doing it for years, but nowhere near as legendary as they both are. Not to mention, you don't have the healing factor that they do. So you often have to be on your guard. Dante has mentioned it multiple times before that he worries about you whenever you go hunt devils with him and Vergil, but you always remind him that you've been doing the job for almost as long as him.

This particular devil happened to be tricky. He was an incubus, which played to his favour when it came to you. As the twins saw him in his true form which happened to be an ugly, wart-covered toad, you saw him as a charming prince with jet black hair and a killer smile. Still, you did all you can to not let that deter you from helping to win this battle.

You figured you were doing well with dispatching all the smaller devils, but it's while you were distracted that the main one attacked you. One large slice of his katana, and you were down for the count. Blood dripped from the wound in your shoulder and your shirt was pretty much done for. You rushed away from him, bleeding more than you'd like.

"Shit!" Dante yells in frustration, and he rushes over to you. Vergil is quick to end the devil, and he takes care of things.

With Dante now by your side, he kneels down and holds you close. He places his hand on top of yours and applies pressure. He kisses the top of your head.

"Do you see why I don't want you coming with us?" He asks, a little ticked off that you'd so willingly place yourself in danger.

You whine softly, "Dante, I'm fine."

Vergil watches the two of you, then he manages to call Nero and Nico to come pick you all up with the van. You'd be fine, but there was no way that Dante would be allowing you to come on any devil hunting trips in the near future. Once you're safe in the van, Dante has you wrapped up in his coat to keep your dignity protected. It doesn't take long for you all to make it back to Devil May Cry.

Vergil recognizes what this signifies for his twin, and he tells the rest of the gang to stay back. They leave you both to enter the office. Dante sets you down on the couch and he begins mending at your wounds. In no time at all, he has your wound bandaged up. He then tells you to rest.

As you sleep, Dante removes the rest of your clothes. He inspects your body for other wounds, but he is very relieved to find that you're okay. Then he places a soft, warm blanket on top of your naked form and he goes to fetch you something else to wear when you wake up. He's less worried now but he has a lot of regrets about letting you come with them.

Slowly, you begin coming to. It's been few hours but with Dante's help, you'll be right as rain. You sit up and gasp when you realize you're naked. He's sitting at the desk, a dirty magazine in his hands. You begin looking everywhere for your clothes, but you don't find them.

You get up on your feet and march over to Dante, and he smirks when he sees that you're stark naked. A small blush creeps over your face, but Dante only beckons you over. You try to say you'd like to get dressed, so he gestures to his own clothes he brought down to you.

"You could wear my clothes. Yours got ripped to shreds, baby." He smirks at you once more. He then pats his thigh and you climb onto him. "Or you could stay naked. That would be nice, as much as I like to see you in my clothes."

Your lips meet in a frantic and rough kiss. The risk of losing you has made him needy. His hands soothe over your body, making sure to be gentle when it comes to your wound. It's not long before he has your thighs spread and he presses his own thigh between your legs. You moan as your clit grinds against his thigh.

"Isn't this much better than hunting demons?"

You had to admit, it was better than hunting demons. Way better.

[starrylothcat]

I come bearing gift 🥳 (aka filthy fic prompts 👀)

Can I request "I'm either joining or watching, you pick." with Hunter 😘

Oh my goodness, this took me way longer than I anticipated!

(No) Vacancy

🔥Hunter x Female!Reader One-Shot🔥

Summary: Hunter hears you calling out for him, and he’s ready to answer. 5800 words.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Minors DNI. Female masturbation, PiV sex, oral, slight overstimulation? Pure smut.

Author’s Note: Uhhh this one got away from me and is pure, PURE self indulgent smut. Hunter is rotting me inside and out. I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!

@wizardofrozz I think you sent me this prompt? If not, true person reveal yourself! But I hope you like it! 🥺👉👈 I slightly edited the prompt in the fic. Thanks for the request!!!

Thank you @wanderer-six and @mylifeisactuallyamess for proof-reading this nonsense. ❤️

“Well, it’s no royal Naboo palace, but it’ll do.” You observed the outside of the dingy inn as you slipped your hood off your head.

It was tucked away in a dark, grimy corner of a seedy town you were dispatched to by Cid.

A neon “No Vacancy” sign flickered on and off, half the letters dark. The road leading up to it was completely empty except for you and Clone Force 99, who were illuminated by the fading neon lights.

You raised an eyebrow at Hunter, who gave a small shrug as you checked the map on your datapad, making sure this was the right place.

“I’d rather stay on The Marauder…or take my chances on the streets.” Echo huffed, a look of disdain on his face as he walked up beside Hunter, both clad in civilian clothes, as were the rest of you.

“Aww, it can’t be that bad! At least we get our own rooms! I can’t remember the last time that happened, if ever!”

Wrecker grasped Tech’s shoulder, giving it a hearty shake in elation as Tech tried to hold on to his goggles, his body being heaved back and forth.

Wrecker was overjoyed at the thought of a real bed and space to spread out, as was Omega.

“I’ve never had an entire room to myself before!” She buzzed with excitement, not caring about the rundown appearance of the inn.

“It is the most logical situation, if we are to gather any intel for Cid.” Tech gave a quick glare to Wrecker, who had released his poor shoulder. He adjusted his goggles. “If we act as travelers we won’t attract as much attention, even if the state of this lodging is…less than desirable. But I will be honest in stating it will be nice to have a sleep uninterrupted by snoring.”

Tech gestured at Wrecker, his goggles reflecting the flashing neon sign of the lodge as he looked down at his datapad.

“Hey, I don’t snore that loud!” Wrecker pouts, crossing his arms. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one hearing it.” Echo scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Alright boys, enough.” Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s only for a few nights, and we can all agree that even though this place isn’t…grand by any means, it’s better than nothing. The faster we can find this shipment location, the faster we can get off this planet.” Hunter felt exposed without his armor, and didn’t want to be here any longer than anyone else.

You were all tired from the long journey here. You were stuck on The Marauder for a few days too long, and everyone was on a slight edge, ready for real rest.

You had been sent to this backwater Outer Rim planet by Cid, tasked with gathering intel on the whereabouts of a high-value smuggled shipment. According to her, the parcel was worth enough credits to buy ten Marauders, and then some.

“This is a delicate situation, bandana, and your goon squad attracts a lot of attention. I need you to blend in, and not cause too much trouble, you understand?” Cid said as she gave Hunter an irritated look from behind her desk.

“We’ll try our best.” Hunter frowned, knowing this mission wasn’t going to be as easy as it seemed. It never was.

Cid rolled her eyes. “Well, I know subtlety isn’t your strong suit so I booked you a place to stay, to stake out and listen for any leads. Your ship might cause a stir, especially if you show up in armor, so you’ll be staying here, acting as civilians while you find the location of the shipment.” She slid over a holodisc with coordinates to a small town inn, where you’d be staying. “Try not to mess this one up, okay, broody? If they get a whiff of someone poking their nose around, they will move it and it might be gone for good. There’s a lot of credits at stake here. You best blend in, for your own sake.”

You remembered Hunter trying to argue with Cid, saying being in one place too long without armor was dangerous. But Cid promised there wouldn’t be trouble if you kept your heads down.

“I don’t know about you, but a real shower is enough for me. I guess we finally have something to thank Cid for.” You quipped, trying to stay positive.

The corners of Hunter’s lips formed a tiny smirk at your comment.

“Don't get too excited, even The Marauder has hot water. Most of the time. Can’t guarantee anything at this place.” You gave him a playful look, smirking back.

Hunter dug into one of his pockets, pulling out small cards that allowed you to access your rooms. “Alright, we’ll meet up at the rendezvous spot early tomorrow. We have a lot of ground to cover.” You looked at your access card, a small number indicating your room location.

Looking at the map of the inn, your room was right next to Hunter’s, the rest of the boys and Omega’s room spread throughout the lodging.

You bid goodnight to everyone as they retreated to their rooms, leaving you and Hunter walking to your own. “Do you think this shipment even exists?” You asked, also getting tired of the wild womp rat chases Cid sent you on.

Hunter let out a sigh. “I don’t know. The intel is limited, and I sense Cid isn’t telling us everything. As usual.” You gave him a soft look, knowing look. Hunter was growing tired of working for Cid, and carries a lot of stress over protecting his team and Omega. His dedication to his family was something you admired about him, among many other things.

“At least she coughed up some accommodation this time around.” You said as Hunter gave a grunt, his eyes flicking to yours. “Yeah…we’ll see if the cards even unlock our rooms. If we even have them.” You had reached your individual doors, stopping in front of Hunter’s, yours only a few feet down the hall from his.

You smiled, the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Well if your access card doesn’t work, you can always come to my room.” Hunter’s eyes locked on yours as you felt heat blaze up to your cheeks at the realization of what you just said. “Err…I uh… I could stay with Omega and you could take my room is what I meant!” You stuttered, trying to salvage your previous statement.

You cursed yourself internally, knowing Hunter probably sensed your heartbeat increasing. You’ve noticed stumbling your words more often around him. Any time he looked your way, all thoughts exited your head and you could only focus on his deep brown eyes, strong jaw, wide shoulders…

The sound of a door unlocking brought you back to the moment. “Well, it seems like my card works. I guess Cid didn’t stiff us. I’ll have to take you up on that offer another time.” You sucked in your breath, trying to figure out what he meant as he slowly opened his door, but didn’t immediately walk in.

“If you need anything, you know where I am.” Hunter hesitated for a moment, looking at you. What you didn’t know was him having the same thoughts as you, admiring your beauty, secretly wanting to join you in your room, hoping what you claimed was a mistake was actually the truth slipping out.

But he didn’t want to overstep and couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

“Yes…uh…goodnight, Hunter.” He nodded, and stepped into his room before he said something he might end up regretting.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as you cursed at yourself internally again, accessing your own room. It was small, dinky, and run down, but it was something. The first thing you tested was the shower, and as luck would have it, the water was hot. It was enough to ignore the suspicious stains on the carpet and peeling wallpaper.

You took a long shower, not knowing when you’d have this type of accommodation again, and trying not to think of Hunter, the embarrassment of what you said, but it was getting more difficult.

After your shower you nestled down into the bed, finally able to relax the best you could in these circumstances.

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the quiet and relish having a room to yourself, finally having a little private time.

Your mind began to wander back to Hunter, as it always did, as you sank into the creaking bed.

You had been with 99 for a while now, acting as an extra hand on missions, also trying to stay afloat by doing odd jobs for Cid. You ran with a pirate gang for a while, dabbled in bounty work, and now you were here. You got along well with the boys and Omega, and finally felt like you had something good, finally belonged.

As you worked alongside Hunter, you began yearning for his gaze, or his rare, surprisingly warm smile. What started off as a small crush has grown into something more and you knew you were falling for him. You tried to deny it, not wanting these feelings to take hold. But you were giving in to him more and more by the day, giving in to his smoky voice, his strength, his loyalty, his everything.

Did he feel the same way? You weren’t sure. But you knew there was some sort of tension between you and it was growing.

You tried to forget these embarrassing thoughts and just go to sleep. But the walls of the rundown inn were thin, and you heard a shower being turned on in the next room.

Hunter’s room.

Heat crept to your cheeks as your mind began to wander again. You imagined him stripping his clothes, neatly placing them at the base of the bed, his naked muscular form revealing itself as he stepped into the hot water.

Stop. You told yourself. He’s your Sergeant. I shouldn’t be thinking of him this way…. But the image of him in the shower was too tempting, as your hand made its way to the waistline of your sleep shorts.

You couldn’t help but think of him thoroughly rubbing himself down with soap, his muscles rippling under the steamy water as the heat released tension from his body.

You imagined his tattoo going all the way down his torso, to his hip, which deliciously dipped to his muscular thighs, which you thought about your hands gripping often. And what lay between his muscular thighs was what really got your mind spinning. You groaned and adjusted your legs, heat beginning to pool between them.

You shouldn’t be having these thoughts. You respected him. He was your teammate. He was your friend.

But you didn’t stop yourself, beginning to get lost in the fantasy as your hand slipped fully beneath your damp panties.

You imagined Hunter’s wet hair stuck to his body as he moaned, his own hand gripping his hard length as he pleasured himself, thinking of you. Water running down his cut muscle, his head thrown back in ecstasy as he brought himself closer to release.

You began to rub circles around your clit, sighing at the sensation, now imagining yourself with him in that shower, his velvet voice murmuring praises in your ear as he thrusted deep inside of you, his warm, calloused hands squeezing every part of your soft flesh.

You thought you were being quiet, stifling your moans as best you could, knowing the walls were thin and Hunter was right on the other side. Maybe you did want him to hear, so he’d know how you truly felt. The thought of him listening only intensified your pleasure and you picked up the pace of your hand, not noticing that Hunter’s shower had stopped a few minutes ago, or that Hunter was hearing every single sound next door.

At first Hunter didn’t want to believe it was you. He had just laid down, his hair damp from the shower, trying to get comfortable. He knew he should be enjoying an actual bed, but his senses were on high alert in this new space. He didn’t like his brothers being so spread out. At the very least, Wrecker’s room was right next door to Omega’s, so he knew that she would be safe if anything were to happen. He knew he shouldn’t worry, but it was habit.

Another worry plagued his mind: you. His thoughts were also preoccupied with you, as they were almost every waking second.

Hunter was struggling with his feelings for you, knowing he couldn’t ignore them much longer. You were reliable, honest, quick-witted, which amused him knowing you were part of a pirate gang before joining them.

You got along with his brothers and Omega liked you, and that was honestly enough for him. He was thinking more and more about his future with his family, and it was hard to visualize that future without you by his side. That’s how he knew he was in deep.

He had wanted to confess his feelings to you multiple times, but always hesitated. He didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship.

Hunter almost told you how he felt tonight, when you were standing outside your door. Hunter wanted to kiss you, take you up on your offer and follow you into your room, show you how much he really cared. But he paused like he always did, not able to find the right words.

Hunter rubbed his face and sighed, wishing he could just sleep.

A faint sound brought him out of his thoughts, his sensitive ears picking up a small moan. He froze, listening as he caught another sigh that sounded awfully similar to your voice.

Hunter first brushed it off to this hotel being less than reputable, probably someone in the room above him watching something illicit on the Holonet.

He was about to put his pillow over his head to drown it out, trying to get a good night’s sleep, but then he heard a louder gasp. It wouldn’t have been heard by anyone else, but he could hear it. There was no denying it now, it was your voice coming from the other side of the wall you shared. The gasps and sighs sounded like they should be coming from a dirty Holonet program, but they were coming from you, from your lips.

His heart thudded, his entire body suddenly on fire, the realization of what you were doing in your room dawning on him.

Hunter knew he shouldn’t listen, but it was impossible for him not to. More soft moans drifted to his ears, his cock instinctually hardening underneath his pants as he imagined you writhing on your bed, your hand working your wet pussy. Were you thinking about him? Someone else? A pang of jealousy shot through him, followed by another pang of guilt. It felt wrong to intrude like this. You deserve privacy, even with his heightened senses, even if you were thinking of someone other than him.

Again, Hunter was going to put his pillow over his head, trying to ignore his throbbing cock and your delicious mewls, but then he heard you again, this time taking the form of his name.

Hunter thought his heart was going to stop. Did he hear correctly? His senses have never led him astray. He focused, listening intently, secretly hoping he was right. Another quiet moan and he heard his name again.

Hunter’s body reacted immediately, intense desire rushing through his veins, goosebumps covering him head to toe as he heard you calling his name. Something primal was climbing its way out of him, not knowing exactly what his next steps were. You were saying his name. You were thinking of him during your most private moment. You must feel the same way that he did for you? All the nights he yearned for you, wanting you, but not knowing how to tell you, or not knowing if you even felt the same way?

Your soft gasps of his name and his name alone was his answer.

His mind was drunk with lust, his body telling him to go next door and help you finish the job. He sat up on his bed, his instincts overtaking his logical brain, and the next thing he knew, he was right outside your door. You were calling out to him, and he couldn’t deny you any longer.

Before he knocked, he could hear your breathing through the door. Your hitched breath as you were bringing yourself closer to release, his name leaving your lips again. He was certain now.

Hunter was ready to break down the door, he needed to see you. To feel you.

Hunter took a breath to focus himself momentarily, trying to get his breathing and heartbeat under control. But he couldn’t wait any longer, your muffled cries the only thing he could focus on. Before he could change his mind, he quickly knocked. For the first time in his life, Hunter had no plan, his mind totally encompassed by you.

He heard you let out a gasp of surprise, then a curse, and quick shuffling. He heard your footsteps coming toward the door. He said your name, his voice low.

You were getting close, your legs shaking, your hand rubbing at just the right spot around your clit, release imminent, your mind intensely focused on Hunter. A loud knock on your door startled you out of your fantasy.

Kriff, who could that be?! You thought, flustered by the interruption and letting out an audible curse. You quickly took your hand out of your pants, frustrated that your fantasy was cut short.

Then you heard Hunter’s voice say your name. You were startled, adrenaline rushed through your body. Why is he knocking at my door so late at night? Something must be wrong. You adjusted yourself, and walked over to the door, just in your nightclothes, panic starting to rise in your chest, the realization that he was right outside your door. Which means he probably heard you. How long was he standing out there? Oh Maker.

“Uh…Hunter? What’s going on?” You asked through the door, trying to play it casual.

There was a moment of silence. “Open the door. Please.”

His voice was strained. You swallowed and grasped the door handle, turning it to open. You pulled the door toward you, only to be pushed back slightly as Hunter barged inside, closing it quickly behind him, his eyes wild. “Hunter…what…what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

You were nervous, he was acting strange and looked disheveled. He wasn’t wearing his bandana, and dressed only in an undershirt and pants. His hair fell around his face as his gaze bore into you. “I heard…you. From my room.” Was all he could muster.

Hunter could smell your arousal in the air of the room and he was close to snapping, all his pent up desire fogging his brain. He needed you, he needed something.

He…heard me? Does he mean…? Oh kriff.

Your face caught on fire at the realization of what he was saying, wanting to disappear into the floor from total humiliation, never to be seen again. You didn’t know what to say, suddenly worried he was mad at you for keeping him awake, demanding to know why his name was coming from your lips, ready to be kicked off the team for insubordination.

You were completely and utterly mortified. Your mind ran circles, trying to think up any excuse. “Hunter I…I’m sorry…I.. didn’t realize…”

“I heard my name.” Hunter interrupted, as he stepped closer to you, his hands forming fists at his sides, his voice shaking. Once again, you wanted to fall through a hole in the floor. You wanted to run away. “You were thinking of me?” His voice was dangerously low as he looked down on you, unclenching his fisted hands and hesitantly resting them on your waist, pleading to himself he wasn’t misreading this entire situation.

Your body quivered, not stopping him as you realized why he was here. He wasn’t upset. He was here to answer your call.

The look in his eyes was absolutely predatory and you noticed a large bulge in his pants as your eyes flicked up and down his body. You were speechless momentarily, but couldn’t deny the ache that was forming between your legs, your heart rate increasing. “I…yes…I was…” was all you could say, your voice barely a whisper. Hunter’s eyes darkened at your words.It was him you were thinking about. No one else.

“Do you think about me often?” he murmured, his voice close to cracking, intoxicated by your scent.

Hunter could see your chest heaving, hear your heart thudding. He could smell a fresh wave of arousal that caused his body to throb as his cock strained against his waistband. “Yes…” You croaked, trembling under his look. His hands gripped your waist tighter, his confidence growing as you answered truthfully. “I could hear everything, your perfect moans…do you realize how long I’ve wanted you?” Hunter hoarsely whispered, barely holding on, his control slipping.

You felt like you were going to explode at his touch and his words. You brought your hands up to grasp his shoulders, his body radiating heat through his clothes.

Were you dreaming?

“Hunter…” a lusty gasp left your lips, and Hunter almost took you then and there. “Let me help you…” He whispered, lowering his head to your neck, his lips brushing right underneath your earlobe.

“I can either join or watch. Your choice.”

Hunter’s voice was deep, and absolutely desperate.

Him admitting he wanted to watch you continue pleasuring yourself almost made you faint, never hearing something so alluring in your entire life.

This had to be a dream.

The thought of him watching you was tempting, but here he was, offering his entire self to you. Something you’ve wanted for so long. You couldn’t pass it up, not now.

“Join me.”

Your voice trembled as you gave him your answer. Hunter lifted his head from your neck, peering into your eyes, searching for the same need that was in his.

“Are you sure?”

You stuttered the words you’ve been wanting to say for months, not seeing any reason to keep it a secret now. “Maker, Hunter…I do want you…I need the real thing, I need you.” Hunter’s eyes flashed, and he let out an anguished growl as he closed the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy and frenzied kiss, doing what you’ve both wanted for so long. It was better than either of you ever imagined, your need for one another finally let loose.

He deepened the kiss by tilting your head back, cradling the back of your skull with his hand, pressing himself even closer to you. You could feel his hot, hard length against your stomach, his craving for you undeniable.

You melted into him, all your secret desire rushing to the surface, tightening your grip on his muscled shoulders. The fingers of his one hand that was holding the back of your head wrapped in your hair, gently tugging your neck even further back as his lips consumed yours. You let out a moan at the sensation, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, which you eagerly welcomed.

Hunter let out his own gasp as your hands moved from his shoulders to his scalp, your fingernails lightly raking down his crown. You felt like you were floating, the breath completely knocked out of your lungs at his taste and his passion, still not believing he was here, doing this to you.

After what seemed like hours, Hunter reluctantly broke the kiss momentarily, giving you both a chance to catch your breath you didn’t realize you needed.

“I need you, too…” He gasped. “I have for a long time…you have no idea what you do to me, cyar’ika…” Hunter released the back of your head, his warm hands sliding down to your back as he peppered hot, open mouth kisses on your neck. He nipped and sucked at your soft skin, also not believing this was real. If this was real, it felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest at saying out loud how he felt, and hearing that you felt the same way back.

Hunter’s free hand ghosted under your night shirt, and when you didn’t tell him to stop, he brought it up to your breast, squeezing and pinching the sensitive flesh. Your nipples pebbled at the sensation, his skilled fingers rubbing and rolling the hardened nub, your arousal growing more than you thought you could handle.

Hunter’s tongue licked over your jugular, and he could feel your blood pumping under his tongue, tasting the sweat and craving on your skin, stoking the raging fire in him even more as he walked you back toward the edge of the bed.

You felt the back of your knees bump the mattress, and Hunter held you as you slowly laid down, bringing himself with you. He nestled between your legs, kissing you deeply again, his arms caging you in.

You bucked against him, rubbing yourself against his hard bulge, searching for that delicious friction.

He groaned into your mouth, and now it was Hunter’s turn to desperately rut against you, his control now almost completely gone. You were going to be the end of him.

“I need to see all of you, now.” Hunter ordered as he began urgently tugging at your clothes, needing to feel your skin on his. He rolled off of you momentarily, standing up to practically rip his civvies off his body as you did the same on the bed, shimmying out of your sleepwear and tossing them to the side.

He stopped, his mind finding clarity for one moment as he gazed at your body and you at his. Saliva pooled in your mouth at the sight of him, unbelievably defined, broad chest and muscular arms. His cock swollen and girthy between his narrow waist, glistening with precum, begging for relief. Begging for you.

“Beautiful…so beautiful.” He muttered as he climbed on top of you again, still gazing at you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him back down to your body. Your lips met, this time less intense, as Hunter relished your irresistible taste, the taste he’s been dreaming of. He swallowed every gasp that left your lips, the kiss heating up again as you grasped the sides of his head, your soft skin moving against his hard, battle-scarred body as he rubbed his length against your soaking entrance.

But there was another taste he wanted, needed or he thought he was going to implode.

Hunter pulled himself away from you as a whine left your lips, already missing his touch.

He moved down your body, kissing down your neck, collarbone, stopping at your breasts to take each sensitive nipple in his mouth for brief attention before continuing on. He slid backwards off you until he was kneeling on the ground at the base of the bed. “I want to taste how much you want me.” He growled as he grasped your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed, throwing your legs over his shoulders, causing you to yelp at how easily he was manhandling you.

You knew what he was about to do, but that didn’t prepare you for how his mouth felt as he began desperately lapping at your cunt, absolutely devouring you as your hands clenched the sheets for dear life as louder and louder moans escaped from deep in your chest. You couldn’t speak as you were quickly reaching your peak for the second time that night.

Hunter was completely lost now, having your arousal on his tongue, his face pressed in the source of your longing. His cock ached almost painfully, but it had to wait. He wanted you to feel how much he wanted you.

Hunter swirled his tongue around your clit, never wanting this moment to end. He could stay between your legs for the rest of his life, lapping at your juices and hearing every single choked cry that caught in your throat as he hummed against your core in his own daze. He felt your hands suddenly grasping at his hair, tugging as you cried out that you were close, gasping his name. Hunter continued his feast as your body thrashed, intense pressure building in your lower abdomen. With one more long lick, your orgasm washed over you, your back arching off the bed, Hunter’s name a ragged cry as he worked you through your release, not wanting to miss a single drop.

He finally lifted his head from between your thighs, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer at this rate. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.” You blushed at his words as he climbed back on top of you lost in a haze of passion and pure animal instinct. “Ready?” He muttered, still making sure you were okay with this, with him, as he kissed you, tasting yourself on his lips.

“Hunter, I need you inside me right now, please…I need you…”

You couldn’t wait any longer. You had to feel him inside of you.

Your pleads were all he needed to hear as he pushed in to your entrance, holding back every atom in his body that wanted to slam in to you and fuck you senseless. But he didn’t want to hurt you, though his composure was crumbling.

You could feel all the muscles in Hunter’s body tense as he slowly slid in, the sensation of your velvety muscle gliding against him almost making him cum right then and there, his senses completely overloaded.

Hunter bottomed out and brought his forehead to yours, his breath shaking and labored. “You feel incredible…” His tone was low, barely audible. Hunter waited for a moment, feeling you around him, hearing your breathing, inhaling your sweet aroma, still hoping this wasn’t a dream as he let you get used to him inside you, the anticipation ready to rip him apart.

You moved your hips slightly, telling him it was okay to continue, knowing what he wanted.

He nodded wordlessly and began rolling his hips slowly into yours. The feeling of him finally inside you, stretching your walls, took your breath away. Hunter let out a moan so lewd you knew it would be burned into your memories forever.

You locked your ankles around his waist, adjusting the angle of his cock as he moved in you. “You can go faster, Hunter. I want you to fuck me.”

That predatory glint in his eye returned at your bold statement as he increased his pace, your words fueling him.

It was Hunter’s turn to grasp the sheets around your head as he got lost in pleasure, grinding himself in to you, his eyes screwed shut and his head right against yours, his shaking moans escaping his lips right at your ear. Hunter’s senses were completely shot now.

Your taste, smell, sounds…every nerve in his body felt like it was charged with electricity, a current running down his spine as he focused on nothing but you.

Hunter was hitting a spot so deep you couldn’t formulate any thoughts, your own whimpers and gasps growing louder and more desperate.

You could feel another orgasm building, the pressure of his pelvis on yours rubbing on just the right spot. Your hands grasped at the back of his head as your body shook, getting closer to your release.

He was driving himself into you, his control finally gone. The intensity of his thrusts made your mind melt, you had never felt this way with anyone ever before.

Hunter was pressing frantic kisses to the side of your mouth, getting close himself as he fucked you in to the shaking bed.

You could barely make out the jumble of praises he was uttering on your lips between thrusts. “Let go for me…I won’t last much longer…you’re so beautiful like this…”

Hunter’s fervid hips and passionate words brought you to your peak, your orgasm spreading like a tidal wave over your body, your nails digging into Hunter’s skull and he continued to fuck you senseless, his name a chant in the heavy air of the room.

Hunter let out a strained growl as his hips stuttered into yours, your final pinnacle bringing him to his own end as he felt your walls clench around him. “Wh-where?” He gasped as your head lolled against the pillow, trying to keep your eyes open. “Inside.” Your hoarse statement was all he needed to hear as pleasure ripped through his body, pressing impossibly deep into you, his body vibrating with every intense sensation imaginable.

With a final drive of his hips, Hunter collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you under his weight. For a few moments, it was silent except for your combined gasps, desperate to get air back in your lungs from the exertion.

Your mind was still trying to catch up with everything that had just happened. Hunter was on top of you? Naked? Still inside you? Was it time to wake up from this dream? Hunter lifted his head, looking at you. “I hope the real thing was as good as you imagined.” His voice was soft, his hair sticking to his forehead, glistening with sweat. You’ve never seen him so breathless.

“It was better than good.” You exhaled, still trying to catch your own breath.

Hunter lifted himself up off of you, rolling to the side, feeling slightly dizzy as the electric buzz in his body began to fade as his senses returned to normal. Hunter hummed and brought his hands behind his head, laying on his back. You were silent again for a few moments, but it was comfortable.

“You know,” he finally rumbled, “This place isn’t half bad. I wouldn’t mind if we had to stay a few extra nights.” His eyes flicked to yours, hoping you’d catch his meaning.

“Though I might have to move rooms if my neighbor continues to be so loud. Won’t get any sleep with such a distraction.”

You smiled and rolled on your side toward him. “Hmm, pretty sure I saw the “No Vacancy” sign out front. But I think we can work something out.”

Hunter let out a chuckle at your response, rolling to face you, his face softening.

“I’d like it if we could work something out.”

You smiled at his gentle words, a blush forming on your cheeks. “Me too.”

Hunter pulled you against him, wrapping his body around yours. “Can’t promise you’ll get any sleep in this room, though.” You muttered against his warm body.

Hunter smirked as he brought his lips to yours for a meaningful kiss.

“If it means being with you, it’s worth it.”

[icarus-suraki]

Blease. Blease, everyone stop needing me for a minute and let me eat lunch. Blease.

[poppadom0912]

Together (VII)

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, injuries, abuse, kidnappings, shootings, swearing and scary men.

Summary: When Jay least expected it, he suddenly starts hearing things. And maybe, he's starting to hallucinate too.

A/N: Am I suddenly full of inspiration and writing in school when i should be doing my lab write up? Yes I am. This chapter has been changed many times but I finally finished editing. A little spoiler- maybe I’m being nicer to my babies 🙃

Previous Chapter / Series Masterlist / Next Chapter

Over the course of eating their very poorly put together ‘meal’, Will came to the conclusion that the food hadn’t been tampered with and so he was happy to continue feeding you.   

You had to admit that you felt like a baby, your older adult brother feeding adult you. You tried insisting you could feed yourself but with the state of your shaking fingers, hands sore from the countless times they’d been tied back, Will denied you your request.

The man that had given the tray of food returned and this time, there was something rectangle like sticking out in one of his trouser pockets while what clearly sounded like keys was sticking out in the other.   

Your heart skipped a beat, and you could feel Will’s heart rate increase from where his hand was positioned over yours. He must’ve noticed it too.   

The Ezra's were so meticulous in their plans and their behaviour was always erratic and on another level of violence that it was impossible to believe one of their henchmen could even, for a second, have the thought of being nice to their victims.   

But you were continuously surprised by them because as he took the empty tray, leaving behind the two waters and single juice, he ‘accidentally’ dropped the plastic rectangle and as he was walking away, his back turned to you both, a key fell and clanged against the ground, but he never looked back.   

And just like that, the door slammed behind him, massively contrasting the immense kindness he showed mere seconds ago.   

Holy friggin shit balls.  

*****  

Was Trudy worried? Yes, indeed she is. Was she going to show any concern? No, not unless she was left alone with her detective.   

Ever since dispatch had forwarded her Jay’s call, she’d been on her feet and alert. And ever since she found out that Jackson and Ezra Murray were the culprits to blame, she was determined that they weren’t going to get away again.

Trudy knew all the Halstead siblings, but she knew Jay the best. Over the many years, not only herself but many, many others were forced to get used to not one but three Halstead's being in existence and working within less than fifteen minutes from each other.   

Currently, Trudy and Jay were alone in the bullpen since the younger detective was barred from any field work unless they found Will and Y/N’s location but that was the only exception. Right now, her job was to keep Jay company, keep an eye on him and continue looking for any more clues or evidence that could be of any help.   

Jay was very clearly still losing his mind and his mental and physical state deteriorated as time passed. At this point, Trudy couldn’t help but think the worst and fear for how her detective was going to fare as a result.

Currently, she was sat opposite him at Hailey's desk, doing her own bit by going through security footage that had too many hours of video on it. Usually, she would get bored doing this, but it was a little different this time because whenever she glanced up, she was faced with the struggling sight of your brother who never asked for too much.   

All he wanted was to get his older brother and younger sister back.   

Suddenly, the phone on Jay’s desk was ringing. Luckily for him, he had a second phone whenever he went undercover and since the first one had been taken and was likely smashed in an evidence bag somewhere, this was all he was relying on.  

The sound was slightly jarring as it interrupted the pin drop silence they’d been in but neither of them showed any sign of discomfort. Instead, Jay went to answer the call, but his solemn mood didn’t change. It was evident that he wasn’t expecting much since it was his undercover phone that they’d been using two days ago on a case.  

Just as the desk sergeant was about to go back to her CCTV footage, she felt the entire bullpen still. The tension so thick it was suffocating her veins restricting any blood flow, and as she looked up, it became dizzying.   

His already pale face had nothing on Snow White and from where she sat, she could his heartbeat thundering out his chest, practically vibrating. All this could only mean one thing.   

“Will?”

What the fuck

For a hot second, Trudy thought that Jay was in so much pain that he was transferring some of his hallucinations onto her to alleviate his symptoms but then he continued talking into the phone and reality sunk into her bones. 

"Shit, Will wait slow down I can't- what?!"

Without prior warning, Jay shot out of his seat, wavering slightly on his feet causing the older woman to follow and stand by his side in any case he fell from the whiplash she's sure he gave himself. 

"Knives- you've got keys?- Y/N's not unconscious- she's lost her voice- your bleeding?! When- Why are you talking about grape juice?!" Jay paused several times, his words repeatedly getting cut off by Will on the other side of the phone. The longer the call went on, the more confused Trudy became. Jay must've been thinking the same as her from the height his brows rose every time he spoke. They went from talking about knives and blood to grape juice. 

The duality of the Halstead brothers. 

"Wait so he gave you a knife and somehow you found a gun just casually lying around? Will, I swear to God if you-"

And when Jay screw his eyes shut, something in her mind told her the doctor was doing something stupid and very questionable, very in character even when in a life or death situation. It was nice to know people would never change. 

Despite the anxiety growing in her chest, the call lasted longer than she expected. Will was being very efficient and careful for managing whatever he was doing and that put her at somewhat ease. Eventually, nothing physically tore them apart but it was poor internet or a lack of a connection that abruptly ended the call. 

"Tell me you got a location?" Jay asked, hope drowning out any other emotion in his ever so expressive eyes. If it wasn't for lives being on the line then she would've scoffed and scolded him but a sarcastic remark would do for now. 

"What do you take me for?" She asked incredulously as she glanced at the computer screen, almost immediately committing the address to her memory. 

"I'll call Voight but get in the car first."

But Jay didn't need her permission, he was already moving. 

*****

So much had unravelled in the last twenty minutes, you were still struggling to understand it all.

With all the uncertainty and determination in the world, you and Will had no other plan but to take they keys and the pocketknife and basically run as fast as you could. Well, run as much as Will could since he was carrying you on his back, very reminiscent of your childhood while he navigated the halls as best he could. You made a very pathetic argument that you could walk on your own but when you tried standing up, your legs gave in on themselves and Will gave you his motherly disappointed look that was very spot on; you and Jay had been on the receiving end of this look for way too long now that you should’ve been immune to it but here you were.

Opening the basement door, you both cringed at the loud sound it made. You guys hadn’t even left the basement yet and it was already going off to a great start.

As gently as he could, Will readjusted your position on his back, his arms moving to hold under your thighs more securely so that in a rush, you wouldn’t move. As he did so, you kept your arms around his neck, barely gripping him due to both a lack of strength and cautious to not strangle him.

Before leaving the room, you and Will sat and contemplated very long and hard about your escape plan. You were provided with very little by the mysterious man you were now deeming your saviour and maybe guardian angel depending on how successful the escape was.

Staring at the burner phone, you swore. You couldn’t remember anyone’s phone number for the life of you. Easily, you could’ve called 999 but the response much longer than calling someone either of you knew. It shocked you only a little when you couldn’t recollect a single person’s phone number, not even Kelly’s or Jay’s.

But like always, Will was there and knew exactly what to do. Maybe it was his doctor nature, but he had several numbers memorised and for some odd reason, he remembered Jay’s undercover phone number. You called him stupid, but he only laughed it off while he punched in the numbers.

You waited in anticipation, your nerves imitating Will’s as he held the phone to his ear, biting on the inside of his cheek as he waited for the phone to stop ringing. And when it did, Will audibly let out a sigh of relief, you felt like crying.

Will explained in half detail, leaving out a lot. It was obvious that Will was trying to relay the necessary details Jay needed to know about their current situation but then he decided to add in the random unnecessary fact that you drank grape juice. That totally threw you off, but Will kept talking as if nothing were wrong.

When Will eventually finished talking, he went silent and listened to what Jay was saying. For a minute, you couldn’t hear a voice on the other side of the phone but then you heard his muffled voice, and it brought you immediate ease knowing he was safe.

And before you knew it, the call ended, and you were out the dreaded basement.

Back to the present, Will was carefully cruising the empty corridors of the very nicely furnished warehouse. It made you question the desolate and dirty state the basement was in. At one point, you pointed out a gun lying on an ottoman; it was very suspiciously placed but when Will checked, it was very much real and very much loaded.

So here you were: a burner phone, pocketknife, gun, and sheer drive. You didn’t want to jinx it but… yes you weren’t going to jinx it.

The warehouse was ginormous. Every corridor was identical to the next and the furnishing was as though a professional interior designer had been inside. Luckily for you and Will, Jackson and Ezra’s lacky’s hadn’t been plastered all over the place, making your escape just a little more easier.

To remain as incognito as possible, Will only whispered to you when absolutely necessary, narrating to you what he was doing and what was going to happen. So far, so good. Will was slinking around, movements smooth and looking like a hair on his body had never been touched since being here. If you didn’t already know he was a doctor, then you would question his physical abilities and profession.

Each corner you turned, you felt your heart drop, your body anticipating disaster. The more time passed, the more you could feel Will sweat and struggle. He had begrudgingly admitted that he was hurt, going into slight detail that Ezra stabbed him, and he’d been hurt more throughout the several times you were passed out. You knew he was hurt and if you were to go in order of the most hurt to the least, the list would be: You, Will and then Jay. And considering the blood you saw covering Jay’s body the last time you saw him; God knows what went down between your oldest brother and your kidnappers.

“Will, if you’re tired, we can stop for a second.” You whispered into his ear but the only reply you got was him shaking his head. You knew his answer made sense, you needed to get out as soon as possible before you got caught but if Will took just one minute or two to recollect himself then maybe he’d feel better.

However, he decided that he was going to put himself last and everything else first because according to him, apparently you and getting out of this damned place took priority to his light-headedness and the blood that was only now slowly beginning to stop running like a river.

And so, without another word, he readjusted you one more time, his grip tightening around your thighs but not too much so it would hurt, and he continued walking.

Going downstairs was the hardest thing Will had to do by far. Yes, carrying you and maintaining your weight on his back was difficult but he could manage, and you felt much more lighter than what you should’ve been being a firefighter but that was a concern for later.

Staring down from the top of the staircase, Will calculated the descent. Yes, it would hurt a lot considering how much his legs shook as he merely stood but he was now starting to get worried but how little you were moving. Initially, you would move every now and then when your body felt stiff or to whisper under your breath so only he could hear you.

Now though, Will didn’t want to say it, you were deathly silent.

He shoved all his negative thoughts aside, deciding to deal with them later because the biggest problem he had was staring at him mockingly. How did his life come to such a point point that stairs scared him?

Luck must’ve decided to be nice to him all of a sudden because under five minutes, he safely delivered the two of you on the ground floor. Now, all that was left to do was find a back or front door and get the heck out of this place.

But obviously, fate was laughing down on the Halstead’s because luck ran as fast as she could, after only three minutes of doing her job because Will was facing down two familiar looking men decked out in all black.

Series Masterlist:

@mads-weasley @sowrongitslottie @elite4cekalyma @senjoritanana @hufflepuff-blackwidow @mrspeacem1nusone @kmc1989 @goth-cowgirl-03 @daggersquadphantom @photographerkaiya0306 @jamie0515 @samanthavitale @iamasimpingh0e

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for reporting my previous place of employment for shady work practices?

Disclaimer: this would be strictly petty revenge for firing me - while illegal, technically, the malpractice doesn't harm anyone.

This might get a little long.

Backstory:

I worked a receptionist position at a family-owned funeral home (in the US) where recently, the managing funeral director was replaced from a highly respected individual by a couple from a different state that had come out of retirement and were completely changing everything - some for the better, most to their liking... and some that while legal in their home state isn't allowed in the current state we are.

I had a strong feeling out the gate that the person out of the two that would end up becoming my direct supervisor didn't like any of the current staff, which got solidified when during a meeting she pretty much stated it would be her way or the highway.

Sometimes when we're slammed, we all work through our lunch and don't get a break for 8+ hours at all, so instead of forgoing eating altogether the entire staff got used to just scarfing down their food super fast at their desks.

We also don't have company cellphones, we only have landlines, and the way we dispatch our team to go pick someone up after they pass is to call the person to make sure they're available, and then text them the needed info (we also don't get a stipend to offset our cell bills).

Dilemma:

Tuesday morning, I got fired due to "gross insubordination" for a. eating at my desk and b. using my cellphone to call the dispatch team. The owner himself fired me, and was pretty rude and, imo, pretty heartless about it (due to some events that occurred on Sunday, I had to call out of work Monday, and when I asked if I should prep myself for the meeting since I had a rough weekend, he responded with "well, it's about to get worse").

He already had my final check in hand (which had a copy of my timesheet with the days that I skipped lunch marked as "busy" or "no lunch cover") along with a termination letter, so he didn't even care to hear my side of the story.

Since I was the receptionist, I've got receipts on some, if not most, of the slightly shady things that they were doing (i.e. selling insurance without a license, selling insurance under a different identity, breaking some state statutes from false advertising, etc etc), and was thinking about reporting them to the necessary agencies.

Its possible that this could lead to the place getting shut down (i dont doubt that the fines would definitely add up) and leave people without work (which is my main deterrent but out of everyone that works there, only a few of the original staff is still there - the rest have either quit or are actively looking), but at the same time, if they continue unchecked they're gonna keep getting away with it, keep making bank, and with the state we're in being a right to work state, as long as they can frame it a certain way, they can use anything at all to fire someone.

So... WIBTA if I went through the proper channels to report them for their malpractice and have them audited?

What are these acronyms?

[the-iceni-bitch]

He Gives Me Everything and Tenderly…

Pairing: detective!bottom Bucky Barnes x younger!top male reader (Sarge and Officer Beefcake, NLLYL AU)

Words: ~5k

Summary; Bucky is just fine on his own. He really is. He’s used to it. Even after meeting you and thinking about you a whole bunch, he’s still fine. And he does not appreciate his friends’ meddling.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (mentions of male masturbation, salad tossing, protected anal sex, spit as lube and lube as lube, kinda public sex), meet cute, reverse age gap, tall/beefy male reader, bottom!Bucky Barnes, Bucky is grumpy, hints of angst, love at first sight? lots of friendly teasing, m/m relationship, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: Welp, this was something I wrote entirely in one sitting and I can’t say I’m mad about it at all. This is my first ever male reader fic and I am both incredibly nervous and very excited to share it with all of you! Big ass thanks to the absolutely amazing @howdoyousleep3 for hyping me up and providing some much appreciated perspectives (remember lube, people!)

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

Bucky was exhausted. A long ass shift at the end of a long ass week and he was done, looking forward to going home and drinking a cold beer on his couch while he didn’t talk to anyone for a whole 48 hours. God, he hated people.

Except Darcy, and the cute little peach. Even though he wanted to get the fuck out of there he still stopped by the dispatch desk to chat with his girls and let them cheer him up a little.

“Hey Sarge!” He shook his head when Darcy called him that, her stubborn insistence to call him by his military rank after however many years just one of the many things that endeared her to him. “You look like shit, you finally getting out of here? Maybe gonna see someone special tomorrow?”

“The only people he’ll be seeing are Sam Adams and Johnnie Walker, maybe James Bond… hey!” The peach gave him an adorable scowl when he threw a paper clip at her, rubbing her cheek where it had hit her and sticking her tongue out at him before turning her attention back to her screen. “Don’t act like I’m not right, I’m there every time you drunk dial Nat while you’re binge watching old movies and lamenting your lack of a love life.”

“Tell your girlfriend to quit putting me on speaker or I’m gonna call her ex to chat from now on.” Bucky grinned when she rolled her eyes at him, bringing his attention back to Darcy and sighing when she was giving him a sympathetic pout. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine. I like being alone.”

“You’re lying, but fine.” Darcy shrugged at him, grinning when there was a sudden commotion at the doors and a mess of recruits came charging through into the hallway after Sam. “Hi Sammy, boys! Ooh, hey there beefcake, you run laps around all those slugs on the course again?”

“Maybe.”

Bucky choked when you were standing next to him, trying not to ogle you swathed in those gray sweats and feeling like the world’s dirtiest old man all of a sudden. “They’re getting better, starting to catch up. You shouldn’t call them slugs, Darce.”

“Please, like Wilson hasn’t called them worse, you’re too nice.” Peachy girl grinned when she turned in her chair again and saw Bucky looking like his jaw was about to hit the floor. “Have you met Detective Barnes, beefy?”

“Haven’t had the pleasure.” Bucky took in your name with an almost hysterical laugh when you reached out and shook his hand, not entirely sure what had come over him as he felt his neck getting unbearably hot and struggled to come up with something to say. “Well, I’ve gotta hit the showers, always lovely talking to you ladies.”

“Bye!” Both of them were grinning wickedly at Bucky once you were gone, chuckling when he just spluttered nonsense and looked at the floor. “What the fuck was that, Bucky?”

“Shut up.” He was flabbergasted, he’d never felt such an unbelievable attraction to someone right off the bat, except, once. But he never thought about that. “It wasn’t anything.”

“Oh, nothing at all?” Darcy was still grinning when Bucky growled at her, shaking her head and leaning back in her chair while the peach kept laughing. “So you weren’t staring at his ass when he walked away?”

“Of course not.” It had only been a little bit, you were so fucking tall your ass was impossible to miss, and so high and tight and… no, nope. “What the hell kind of nickname is beefcake, anyway?”

“You saw him.” Peach was practically cackling at this point, the redness on Bucky’s face so entertaining she was considering taking a photo to send to Nat. “The man is grade A USDA prime meat, what would you like us to call him?”

“You’re a couple of pervs.” Bucky just scoffed and ignored them when they told him it takes one to know one, flipping them off over his shoulder and almost forgetting his bag when he stormed out of the precinct to start his much needed alone time. “Inappropriate, gonna talk to HR about you two!”

If it had just been the one interaction, Bucky probably could’ve handled it. Yeah, he had jerked himself off thinking about your broad shoulders and tiny waist and that masterpiece of an ass, but only once, okay three times. But it was just over the weekend, he’d forget about you eventually.

Except for the fact that suddenly he was seeing you everywhere. Every damn time he was in the precinct, there you were, smiling that slightly crooked smile and laughing and making every person light up when you walked through the room. And in the fucking sweats every time, it was like torture. Torture that was made worse by the fact that Darcy and peach were always grinning at him like they knew something he didn’t, and they had apparently told Sam whatever they supposedly knew, so now that man was basically parading you in front of Bucky’s desk every chance he got and making him talk to you and get to see how fucking charming you were. He hated it.

“I do, I love cats!” Sam was chatting with you right in front of Bucky’s desk again and he was plotting how he could get away with murdering the man. “Have a little ginger idiot at home who has maybe two braincells, but he’s my baby.”

“Wow, that’s adorable.” Bucky almost growled at Sam when he grinned at him. “Bucky has a kitty of his own, don’t you, Buck?”

“Yes.” Sometimes he even hated his friends, this was ridiculous.

“I love that, knew you were a cat person.” Bucky almost groaned when you placed your hand on the desk so close to his, looking up at you through his lashes and trying so hard not to melt into his chair when he saw you smiling at him. “What’s her name?”

“Alpine.” You smelled so unbelievably good, Bucky had an incredible urge to lean up and bury his face in your neck, but managed to just turn the photo of his cat around to show you instead. “She’s three.”

“She’s gorgeous.” You winked and Bucky almost swooned, there was something wrong with him. “Shit, I’ve gotta get out of here, got a birthday party to get to. It’s always real nice talking to you, Detective.”

“You too.” Bucky swallowed thickly and shook his head when you walked away, his scowl coming back immediately when he saw Sam looking like he just ate a damn canary as he smirked at him. “Shut up.”

“Didn’t say anything.” Sam chuckled when Bucky just hunched over his paperwork and tried to ignore him. “Buuuuut… hoo boy, you like him.”

“I do not.” Murder was the only answer to these affronts. “He’s too young.”

“Bullshit, is peach too young for Nat?” Sam snorted when Bucky just grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes at the man’s stubbornness. “You like like him, you need to get over that massive hang up, Barnes, it’s holding you back!”

“Man, fuck you!” Bucky jumped when he realized that Sam wasn’t there anymore, so he was just yelling at the bullpen, every member of the team giving him looks of varying amusement before they bent back to their work. “Sorry.”

It was a legitimate hang up, especially when it came to you. Because you reminded Bucky of him.

Specifically of when he was young, when Bucky first realized he was in love and overlooked all of his flaws and just wanted to be wrapped up in him all the time in spite of the fact the man would only look at Bucky like his old friend who he could tell about every single disgusting conquest he made. And that meant you were dangerous. Bucky refused to do that to himself again, it had taken him too long to get over that malicious bastard, and nothing had hurt him more than the realization that he had wasted so much time loving someone who barely gave a fuck about him. He didn’t care how sincere and charming you seemed, he wasn’t going to fall for that same shit all over again.

But it didn’t stop any of his friends from dragging you in front of him at every opportunity, and even though he was polite and listened to you and answered all your questions, it didn’t stop him from snarling at them as soon as you were gone. He didn’t care what they thought he needed, he was fine.

He wasn’t lonely. He didn’t wake up grinding his hips into his mattress after dreaming of sharing his bed with you. He didn’t wonder what you would look like with soft morning light falling across your face while both of your cats jumped on you and Bucky made you breakfast. They all needed to worry about their own lives and quit fucking with his.

Which is why he should have been suspicious as hell when Nat and her little peach and Darcy insisted on taking him out for drinks on a Friday night. All of them together. At a dive bar that was typically just cops. Like they didn’t usually go uptown and dress up.

“Well, look at that, is that Sam?” Darcy bounced on her toes and waved when she spotted Sam with all of his recruits, her and peach squealing while Bucky shot Nat an exhausted look. “Gosh, I completely forgot they’re celebrating the academy graduation, what are the chances?”

“Shocking.” Bucky couldn’t stop growling when Nat just shrugged at him. “I can’t believe they dragged you into their scheming, Romanoff.”

“They’re young and excited, it’s cute.” Nat wrapped her arm around Bucky’s shoulders and started pulling him towards the group. “Besides, you deserve someone nice, and to spend the night with someone besides Alpine.”

“Alpine doesn’t take up that much room on the bed, and I like to spread out.” Bucky just resigned himself to having a miserable night, even when you gave him an easy smile once you laid eyes on him and waved eagerly. “And he might not be nice.”

“Buck, you won’t know unless you give him a chance.” Nat sighed as she rested her chin on her best friend’s shoulder, pinching his cheek and trying to get him to at least give her a grudging smile. “And you know how good my asshole radar is, I’m getting no pings from the beefcake.”

“Yeah, alright.” Bucky steeled himself when you started walking his way, feeling a little tight in his chest and watery in his eyes as he did his best to give you a smile. “Hi.”

“Hi Detective.” Your smile got even wider when Nat introduced herself, shaking her hand warmly then turning back to Bucky and crossing your arms over your massive chest. “Can I get you a beer?”

“I don’t…” Bucky caught himself when Nat looked at him expectantly and blew out a deep breath. “Yeah, a beer would be great.”

“Fantastic, for you too?” You winked at Nat when she nodded before hurrying off to get their drinks with an undeniable bounce in your step that Bucky found he enjoyed very much.

“Listen, Buck.” Nat gave you a very thorough look while you waited at the bar, wrapping her arms around her girl when she came to sit on her lap and Darcy sat across from them. “Even if it doesn’t last, you’re a special kind of idiot if you don’t at least have sex with that man.”

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky felt himself blush up to his ears when all of the women just nodded enthusiastically and started detailing what the two of you should do to each other. “You three are worse than frat boys, oh my god.”

“C’mon, sarge…” Darcy snapped her mouth shut when you came back with Bucky’s and Nat’s drinks, giving Bucky a meaningful look and making a little circle with her thumb and forefinger then pushing her opposite finger through it while your back was turned until Bucky felt like he was in fucking high school. “Hi beefcake!”

“Hi Darce!” You were sitting so close to Bucky he could smell you again, he had to start chugging his beer so he didn’t reach out to bury his fingers in your hair. “I’ve always wanted to ask, why does she call you ‘sarge’?”

“Oh, it was my rank when I was discharged.” Bucky couldn’t handle the way you were looking at him, like he was the most interesting thing in the room, he wanted to fall into your eyes and get lost. “From the army. Darcy’s sister served with me, so she knew me then and the nickname stuck.”

“I didn’t know you served, my dad was in the marines.” You could see Bucky starting to tense up and bless you, you backed off, keeping that easy smile on your face while you nudged his foot with yours. “It’s okay, that’s not something we have to talk about right now, tell me about Alpine, how’s the little lady doing?”

“She��s- she’s good.” Something about the way you instantly pivoted the conversation and didn’t make Bucky feel like an ass for almost clamming up had him relaxing pretty much instantly, grinning back at you and rolling his eyes a little playfully when he thought about his little furry troublemaker. “She’s a brat, but good. Almost gave me a heart attack last week when she somehow managed to climb up to the ceiling beams in my apartment.”

“Oh shit! Really?” You chuckled warmly when Bucky just nodded and took another sip of his beer, plucking at the edge of the label on your bottle and leaning forward a little so you could hear him better. “She get down on her own or did you have to get a ladder?”

“Well, after six hours of pleading and begging, I did finally manage to entice her with some tuna.” Bucky kept watching your face closely, the earnestness he was so wary of constant and never wavering while you listened to everything he said intently. “She’s too smart for her own good, I swear.”

“Fuck, I can’t decide if my situation is better or worse.” You laughed when Bucky scoffed, pushing at his shoulder and shaking your head when he looked at you with mock offense. “No, I love my boy, but he’s a dumbass of epic proportions. The most worrisome thing he’s ever done is get his whole head stuck in a mason jar. Theodore is an idiot.”

“Theodore?” Bucky was vaguely aware of movement next to him after he emptied his beer and set down the bottle, but he couldn’t stop watching your lips move. “That’s adorable.”

“Aw, yeah, my niece named him.” Your smile got even wider somehow and it was making Bucky melt, another bottle of beer appearing seemingly out of nowhere on the table and immediately finding its way to his lips. “It’s her favorite chipmunk.”

Cats. Talking about your fucking cats was apparently the kick in the ass Bucky needed to let almost all his concerns about having anything with you go, letting himself relax and be easy while you told him all these sweet, endearing little things about yourself. How much you loved your niece and how much of a star she was at figure skating. How good you were at baking and you didn’t care what he said, you were baking him a loaf of sourdough to prove it. How you played three different instruments and spoke two languages. You were too goddamn interesting.

And you managed to get him to talk about himself too. How close he was with his sister and mother and how much he loved seeing them as often as possible. How he secretly enjoyed knitting and always made sweaters for the family at Hanukkah but would kill you if you told anyone about his hobby. How he collected old records and could spend whole days just listening to music and drinking good whiskey.

Bucky was more than a little thrilled that you seemed to be hanging on his every word and scooting closer to him until you were right next to him and your shoulders were practically touching.

He had lost track of how many beers he’d consumed by the time people started dancing, but he knew it wasn’t too many as he was just very pleasantly buzzed and staring at your plump, kissable, pillowy lips and wondering what it would be like to suck on them.

“Hey, James.” Bucky had just told you his first name and for some reason the fact that was what you were choosing to call him was making him dizzy. “You wanna dance with me?”

“Oh, um…” Bucky chewed on his lip while he thought it over, he had two left feet when he was sober, and he also wasn’t sure he would be able to control himself if you put your hands on him. “I don’t know…”

“Hey, no pressure.” You winked like you did every time you said something disarming and Bucky decided that he loved that about you. “Just wanted to ask, but if all you want is to talk, that’s a-okay.”

Bucky was struggling with himself. You barely seemed disappointed, it had maybe flashed across your face for a second, but he believed you when you said it was okay. You even leaned back against your chair to give him space, zero hints of malice in your expression and just that perfect, easygoing look that made Bucky feel like you were fine taking no for an answer and you would never hold it against anybody.

And for some reason, that finally sealed it for Bucky that you weren’t him.

“I wanna dance.” Bucky winced when he almost knocked over his bottle when he set it down, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet so he could drag you towards the makeshift dance floor. “Let’s go.”

Your laugh made Bucky beam at you over his shoulder, humming along to the music and turning to face you once you were in the middle of it. His breath caught when you were right there, letting you frame his waist with your hands and pull him even closer while you started rolling your hips to the music. Bucky very quickly decided that he liked having your hands on him, shaking his head and gripping your wrists to keep you in place when you tried to lean back before he slid his palms up your arms and over your chest.

Somehow, even though he knew you were big, your massive size hadn’t fully registered in Bucky’s brain until he was in such close proximity to you. It’s not like Bucky was small by any means, he hit the weights, he never skipped arm day, he’d even been called beefy himself a few times. But you… goddamn. You were like nothing Bucky had ever seen before. He was starting to get woozy from it.

Then you ducked even closer and pressed your cheek against Bucky’s temple and he couldn’t help it, he gasped. He could feel your lips moving against his skin but he couldn’t hear anything you were saying, a low buzzing filling his ears while his fingers dug into your firm chest and he rolled his hips against yours. This was dangerous, he was not going to have sex with you without even a proper date, he wasn’t that easy.

He kept repeating it in his head over and over. When you slipped your arms around his waist and squeezed as you kept guiding his movements. When he buried his face in your neck and groaned when he finally got to breathe in your scent fully. When you nipped at the shell of his ear and made some kind of noise that sent a vibration through Bucky’s whole body. And especially when you grabbed his ass and gave such a dirty grind of your hips that made him feel how fucking hard and massive you really were.

It didn’t matter how much he repeated it though, it only took three songs before Bucky found himself with his back against a stall door in the bathroom with his pants around just one of his ankles and his toes barely brushing the floor while he practically sat on your face.

One of his knees was flung over your shoulder while you licked at his hole, his whole body shivering when you hummed against his skin and dug your fingers into his thighs and he didn’t even care that he was getting eaten out in a public bathroom and enjoying it quite loudly.

“God, I knew you’d be fucking sweet.” You growled but barely pulled back, gripping the thigh that was on your shoulder and pushing it up until it was pressed to Bucky’s side so you could see his face. “You taste so goddamn good, James, once I get you in bed I’m gonna make a full meal out of this ass, shit.”

“Oh… Jesus Christ.” Bucky could barely breathe when your mouth was on his hole again, he could feel your jaw working while you moved your lips and tongue like you were making out with him, all while you kept your intense eye contact and let his cock rest on your face like you didn’t even care. “Oh my fucking god.”

Bucky could feel your chuckle when a whine escaped from his throat without his permission, his eyes rolling when your tongue fluttered all around his twitching skin before you were dragging it over his hole again and sucking until Bucky almost squealed. But then your tongue punched into him and the squeal was ripped out of his chest, his breath heaving almost painfully while you fucked him with the thick muscle until his dick started leaking and twitching against your forehead. It was insane that you were so good at this, you were so young, but your mouth worked like you were a fucking pornstar and it had Bucky feeling some kind of way.

“You’re gonna let me fuck you, James.” It didn’t sound like a question, you were telling him, your face serious while you licked your way up his taint until you could nip at his balls while you slid a finger inside him. “I need it, need to feel you come on my cock, god, you’d better fucking hold it until I’m inside you or I’m gonna spank you, I swear to fucking god.”

“Yeah… yeah, oh my god, please.” Bucky felt like he was losing his mind when you sucked on his balls and pushed a second finger inside him, his legs shaking and his eyes rolling back in his head while he grabbed your hair and held on for dear life. “Oh shit… fuck me, I can hold it, I’ll be good, just fuck me.”

You leaned your cheek against his hip and kept grinning at him while you reached your free hand into your wallet to grab a packet of lube, chuckling when Bucky huffed at you when you ripped it open with your teeth and squirted it all over the fingers you were plunging into his ass.

“You brought lube with you?” Bucky was trying to remain huffy but it was difficult when you were scissoring his hole open so slowly and shit, it felt amazing. “What exactly did you think was going to happen tonight?”

“God, I dunno, James.” You looked meaningfully at the fingers that were currently knuckle deep inside him, wiggling them a little when you looked back up at him with a cocked eyebrow and snorting when he whined. “Would you prefer I didn’t have lube right now? Because I can stop…”

“No, don’t do that.” So much for not trying to seem desperate, Bucky was panting he needed you so bad. “I’m just… talking, I’ll shut up. I can be good.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna be a good boy for me James?” What were you doing to him? Bucky couldn’t help but whimper when you spat on your fingers to slick them up even more and added a third, nodding and rolling his hips into your hand when you just barely teased his sweet spot as you kissed the inside of his thigh. “Yeah you will, my good boy, opening right up for me.”

“Mmhm, yours, oh holy shit.” The addition of your fourth finger turned Bucky’s whole body into jelly, your hold on his thigh the only thing keeping him from crumpling to the floor when you licked a wide, flat stripe up the underside of his cock. “Holy fucking shit, pleasepleaseplease…”

“Shhh, don’t you worry, James, I’ve got you.” You groaned when he let go of your hair to shove his fist in his mouth when he gave you a tortured cry, slowly pulling your fingers out of him and setting his feet on the floor so you could stand. “Turn around for me, sweet thing.”

“Yes… yes sir.” Bucky let his eyes flutter closed when you kissed his temple and turned him around, pressing his cheek against the cool metal and arching his back when you placed one hand on his hip and used the other to pull out a condom. “I need it.”

“I know, handsome.” Your voice was muffled while you used your teeth to rip the wrapper open, nuzzling into the tendrils of hair that were resting against the back of Bucky’s neck so you could kiss him there while you rolled the condom over your length and emptied another packet of lube all over your dick. “You gonna call me sir while I fuck this sweet little ass?”

“Ye-yes… oh fuck!” Bucky practically screamed when your tip just barely slipped inside him, arching his back and whining when you wrapped your arm across his throat and growled in his ear. “Fuck… ‘s big, so big, fuck me.”

“You can take it, big guy, keep being good for me.” You grinned against Bucky’s cheek when he rose on his toes as you kept going, smacking his ass and chuckling when it made him clench as you increased the pressure on his neck. “You feel fucking incredible, Jesus. Been thinking about getting you like this since the first time I saw you, you know that? Did you think about me too, James?”

“N-no.” Bucky already felt extremely vulnerable while he was split open on only half of your cock, he didn’t need to admit to you that he had been dreaming about wrapping his legs around your tiny little waist while you fucked him slow and deep. “I didn’t.”

“Pretty sure you’re a liar.” You grinned and yanked his head back at the same time you gave a final snap of your pelvis and Bucky sobbed, his body shaking violently while you rested your hips against the plush curve of his ass and dragged your tongue along his jaw while you let him adjust. “That’s okay though, big guy, you can think about this. Now, I’m gonna apologize, because this is gonna be a lot faster than I would like, but we are in public.”

Bucky didn’t have any response except a yelp when you started driving your cock into him almost viciously, his breath punched out of his lungs each time your hips bounced off his ass while you sucked on his ear. He felt like he was about to explode, your cock driving into his swollen prostate each time you bottomed out until his balls started pulling tight to his body and his cock twitched. You must have felt the change since you dropped the hand that wasn’t attached to the thick arm that was currently choking him to grab his cock and start stroking him in time with your thrusts.

“Fuckfuckfuck…” Bucky felt like such a whore but he didn’t care, turning his head as much as possible so he could rub his nose against your cheek while he whined. “I’m so close, don’t stop.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want, James.” You groaned when his hole clenched around you, squeezing his cock and his throat at the same time and kissing the corner of his lips tenderly while you gazed into his eyes. “Gonna take care of you. Can’t wait to be able to take my time, enjoy you, god, could spend a whole fucking night in this ass, you’re so goddamn warm and tight. But I need you to come for me right now, James, make a mess on my hand, lemme make you feel good, c’mon.”

The thought of you in his bed and fucking him raw and open had Bucky tumbling over the edge of his climax with a shout, his desperate noises muffled by your lips when you smashed them to his as he quaked in your arms and shot his cum all over your fingers. He sobbed when you didn’t stop stroking him even once he was milked dry, his eyes rolling back when you throbbed inside him and almost lamenting the fact that you were filling the condom instead of pumping your cum deep in his guts and determined to get to the point when he would finally get to feel all of you. As soon as you were done you were bringing your cum soaked fingers to your mouth, keeping eye contact with Bucky as you sucked his cum off them slowly and groaning at his taste then pressing your lips to his again so you could share with him.

“Jesus fuck.” Bucky couldn’t think of anything else to say, smiling almost sheepishly at you after you had pulled out of him and tossed the condom, letting you turn him around and nuzzle at his cheek before you were bending to help him step back into his jeans.

“My sentiments exactly.” You gave him another one of those winks and he wasn’t even mad when he blushed violently. “You gonna be as big of an ass about me taking you on a real date?”

“I wasn’t an ass.” Bucky huffed when you stood back up and wrapped your arms around him, nipping at your bottom lip and grinning when you growled playfully at him. “I was wary.”

“Sure.” You kissed him slow and deep and smiled against his lips when he melted into you before pulling back so he could breathe. “Pretty sure the girls and Sergeant Wilson would agree with my assessment, but we can use your word.”

“Oh shit, they’re still out there.” Bucky screwed his eyes shut and moaned at the thought of the commentary he was going to have to endure, shaking his head when you chuckled and opened the stall door to start pulling him back to the bar. “Can’t we just climb out the window or something?”

“Yeah, I don’t think either of us could fit through that window, James.” You nodded at the tiny one by one glass square and kissed his temple when he sighed defeatedly, holding his hand and letting him follow you when you opened the door. “Besides, if you think I’m not going to enjoy showing you affection in public, I’ve got some bad news.”

Bucky’s retort was cut off by an absurd amount of hollering when you opened the door, his face getting unbearably red and the desire to either tell all of your friends to shut the fuck up or just book it out of the bar overwhelming. But then your arm was around his shoulders and your lips were pressed against his temple, and maybe he could put up with his friends being smug rowdy assholes for the rest of the night if you kept smiling at him like that.

[pop-roxs]

omgg late valentines grelle x reader fic!! :3

this is like my second ever attempt at fic writing and my first time posting my work so please be easy on me 🙏

(this fic is now on ao3! check the rbs if youd like to check it out)

category: hurt/comfort

ship: grelle x reader

word count: 1,206(i wrote more than i thought oh my god)

reader is gn!!!

Valentine's day is a day for couples to express their love for each other through chocolates and cards. It's a day for crushes to be confessed, and for friends to be cared for. This seems like the perfect holiday for Grelle. But she would say the opposite. Especially now.

It had been a long day at the dispatch, and frankly she was tired of seeing all the healthy and happy couples prance about the halls hand-in-hand. Upon arriving home, she threw off her coat and opened a bottle of wine, finishing about half of it in one go. She could cry if she cared. She just wanted the day to end.

William had been insistant on giving her as much overtime as possible. She would've enjoyed it, if it weren't sitting at her desk in her office, filing paperwork for what seemed to be an endless amount of hours.

It was almost midnight now, as she glumly walked over to her couch to sit down. She was exhausted, staring into nothing as her mind drew blanks. She hadn't even gotten chocolate. Not a single card. Not from friends, and she definitely didn't have any secret admirers. Why would she? Nobody at dispatch actually liked her anyways.

And so she sat there. For about a few minutes, until she heard very incessant knocking at her front door. She grumbled and ignored it. But then by the third round they were practically banging at her door, to which she finally decided to answer whoever wanted to visit her.

"...Y/N?" She stared at you, baffled, wondering why the hell you would be here. "Why are you here? Especially at this hour?..."

You tried to give her an answer, but you were panting so hard, your hands at your knees, trying desperately to catch your breath. "I'm sorry, Grelle, just... Give me a moment..."

She nervously stared at you as your breathing slowly calmed down, and this gave her a good minute or two to inspect your appearance. You were still in your uniform, but you were very much not dressed in a way you could present yourself. Your hair wasn't combed, and your laces were almost completely untied. It's almost as if you ran all the way to her apartment.

Once you finally managed to (mostly) calm down, you looked up at her, speaking in an urgent tone. "Grelle, I'm so sorry, I know I haven't seen you all day. I kinda skipped out on work today. Again, I'm sorry."

"Darling, just tell me why you're here. It's almost midnight. You should be asleep."

"And so should you." Grelle stopped talking after you said that. She let you continue. "I was gone all day because I..." You were afraid to say what you were going to say next.

"I was... Shopping. Looking for the right gift. For you." You looked away and held out a box of chocolates shaped in a heart, with a spider lily and letter taped to it. Grelle gasped quietly upon seeing it, staring at you for a minute. She gently took the box from your hands.

"Y/N, dear... Why did you get me this?" She looked up at you, biting her lip. She was afraid you were teasing her. Why in the ever living hell would you get her chocolates, anyways? And go out of your way to give them to her?

"Because."

"...That's it? Just 'because'?"

"Ok, well, I guess it's deeper than that." You stood up straight, fidgeting with your nails. A blush crept onto your cheeks.

"Well then? I'm waiting." Grelle stood leaning on one leg, her hand on her hip, the other holding the chocolates you gave her. She looked at you expectantly, one eyebrow raised.

Your eyes darted around nervously. Her apartment, the floor, the door, the hallway, anywhere but her face. "I... Well, it's not that important, really. I can tell you some other time. It is rather la-"

"Tell me."

When Grelle spoke to you with that stern tone, you shut up and finally looked into her eyes. You stalled for an incredible amount of time. The longer you waited, the more impatient Grelle became.

"Well, if you're not gonna say, I'll just go to bed." She started to close the door, and you panicked.

"W-Wait! I'll tell you." She stopped closing it, giving you one last chance to explain yourself. She kept her hand on the doorknob.

You closed your eyes as you braced yourself for what you were about to confess to her. "I like you."

Grelle's stern expression softened slowly after you said that. She looked at you in disbelief. No, this wasn't true. You were messing with her.

"Is this some kind of joke?"

When she said that, you immediately opened your eyes to return her gaze. You could tell that her eyes were beginning to water, but she was trying to hold it back. That look hurt.

"What? No! No, I'm not. I wouldn't joke about something like that, Grelle." You looked at her sympathetically.

She stared at you in thought. Her cheeks began to burn with a red color. She kept staring at you for what almost felt like forever. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure."

Grelle couldn't hold it in anymore, as a few tears streamed down her cheeks. She looked at you silently, biting her lip, her eyebrows upturned. You immediately began to worry when she started crying, fiddling with your hands, not know what to do.

"Oh my god, Grelle, I'm so sorry! Are you ok? Did I say something wrong?"

She then quickly started to wipe her tears away. "Goodness, dear, I didn't mean to cry in front of you... This just isn't really believable right now."

"What do you mean by that?" Your heart ached further with her statement.

It was now Grelle's turn to worry, because when she saw your painful expression, she began to feel guilty. "Well... Nobody likes me. Nobody's ever liked me. You know how people treat me at dispatch. I just thought... I wouldn't guess that someone as pretty as you would bother with a woman like me."

"Grelle..." You took a few steps forwards, before wrapping your arms around her, resting your forehead on hers. "Please, believe me when i say this. I love you. I don't just have a small crush on you, or just think you're cute --although that is still true-- I genuinely love you. I don't think i could ever get over that without telling you."

Grelle continued to cry, as she returned your hug, still holding the chocolates. "Darling.. You will never understand how much this means to me. I've been pining on you for so long, I never expressed it since I never knew someone was capable of loving me."

"Please, never believe that lie again." You moved to press a sweet kiss to her cheek, silencing her worries. She looked at you, and her eyes were so full of emotion, sincere and unadulterated affection.

"Come inside, I have some wine we can drink. I would love to share these chocolates with you.♡" Grelle loosened her embrace as she led you into her apartment, to which she spent her best Valentine's night with you.

bro i wrote this at like 2/4am tf

[naeverse]

A Fate Worse Than Death - Part 1

🕷️staring: Miguel O’Hara x fem!Reader

🟥 preview: 

His eyes snapped open as he heard someone entering his office in a quiet, almost silent manner. Their footfalls, delicate, nearly imperceptible on the black flooring of his office. Due to his enhanced senses, he was able to hear the person way before he even saw them. 

He turned around, his pupils glowing blazing crimson, his fangs barred, and his claws extended from his fingertips. 

“Who the hell are you, and how the fuck did you get in here!?”

🟦 summary: 

Miguel O’Hara’s past comes back to haunt him when a mysterious stranger strolls into his office, carrying with them a profound misfortune that has the potential to ruin everything...

🕷️tw/cw. Angst, unprotected sex, fingering, body worship, dirty talk, multiple reader orgasms, big dick Miguel, mutual orgasm, etc… 

🟥pet names: (hers) Mi amor (My love), Bebè (Baby), Cariño (Darling)

🟦rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🕷️word count: 2K

(I do not own any of the fanart! All credit goes to original artist!)

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

Miguel O'Hara stood before his several orange monitors, his powerful frame covered in his customary blue and red holographic, skin-tight spidersuit. He had been there for hours, his broad shoulders rigid and his arms crossed, studying the monitors in front of him.

Not much ever happened. A few anomalies might be picked up during his surveillance, but he'd typically dispatch other Spider-People like Ben Reilly or Jessica Owens to handle and contain the anomalies. Miguel rarely left his "office," a sprawling space that combined a lab, an office area, and a living room.

The lab was on one side, with counters cluttered with unfinished projects, suits, gadgets, and weapons. Various items of technological equipment were scattered throughout the area alongside the incomplete inventions. At the opposite corner, his living room/bedroom could be found. 

Large curtains drawn back to darken the room, revealing a wide window overlooking Earth-928. The remaining furnishings included an end table and a large couch, the latter of which Miguel often found himself waking up on before returning to his position on his floating platform to stare at the orange screens as he had day after day.

Miguel yawned, his sharp, pearly white fangs briefly revealed as he opened and closed his crimson eyes, attempting to shake off sleep that threatened to overtake him. But then, a scent wafted into his nostrils. 

A scent that was entirely new to him within the confines of HQ.

His body immediately tensed. He closed his eyes and concentrated, sniffing the air with intent when he detected the strange aroma once more. This time, his eyes snapped open.

Miguel began to carefully search through his surveillance footage, trying to pinpoint the source of this unusual scent when, one by one, his screens started to turn off. In place of the once-bright, orange-tinted footage, he was met with black screens.

Frustration, confusion, and anger welled up within him, his eyebrows knitting together. 

‘What the hell is going on?!’ 

He snarled, scanning the monitors with his red eyes to uncover any clues about the sudden disruption. Yet, he found nothing out of the ordinary. He clicked his tongue in irritation.

‘There's no way the damn power went out. That's never happened before.’

"Lyla!?" he shouted, trying to get the attention of his trusted A.I. assistant, but there was no response. Worry gnawed at Miguel as the situation grew increasingly bizarre and concerning.

“Lyla! I’m not in the mood for games. Get out here! Now!” He bellowed, tapping his foot impatiently when Lyla didn’t show up once again. He growled, slamming his hands down onto his desk which was surrounded by blank screens on his hovering platform, his dark hair falling over his face. 

‘What the fuck is going on-”

That scent! 

It once more filled his nose. 

The aroma, more potent than it was before…

His eyes snapped open as he heard someone entering his office in a quiet, almost silent manner. Their footfalls, delicate, nearly imperceptible on the black flooring of his office. Due to his enhanced senses, he was able to hear the person way before he even saw them. 

He turned around, his pupils glowing blazing crimson, his fangs barred, and his claws extended from his fingertips. 

“Who the hell are you, and how the fuck did you get in here!?” 

His crimson eyes were trained on the mysterious figure who slowly emerged from the shadows of his office entrance and into the light. 

Miguel had no idea who this person was. The female appeared to be a spider-woman herself, though he had never seen them before in the Spider Society. 

The strange woman's multiverse watch on her right wrist was another peculiar feature. He questioned how she managed to obtain a device that he only gave to Spider Society members. 

The next thing he noticed about the enigmatic woman that troubled him was her suit.

It looked identical to his own…

“Who the fuck are you and how did you get in here!?” Miguel shouted once more, taking a fighting stance; he was prepared to attack, if necessary.

You stepped deeper into Miguel's "office," your body covered in a matching red and blue holographic, skin-tight spider suit, yours much smaller, more feminine-fitting, and perfectly shaped to fit your curves. Your face was covered by a matching, red and blue helmet, hiding your identity from the agitated male.

“So…this is the great Spider Society leader.”  You chuckled as you silently entered his office, your gloved finger trailing over the various projects he had been working on.

Miguel stared at you intently, fury growing in his chest at the fact that he still had no idea who the hell was wandering about his office, let alone how the woman had managed to get past the numerous security measures at the headquarters of the Spider Society.

Then it clicked…

The woman was behind the blackout…

He growled, his claws sharpening, his eyes reddening at the revelation.

“Yes, so I suggest you start answering my questions before things get ugly real fast.” Miguel threatened, stepping down from his platform with ease, his eyes glued on the unknown female whilst he stalked up to her. 

You snickered, looking over at him through your helmet. "Are you certain that you are Spider-Man? A hero does not immediately resort to violence.” You mocked with a smirk, bringing a scowl to Miguel’s lips. 

“You’ll quickly learn I’m not like the others.” Miguel replied, the timbre of his voice gravelly. He walked up to you, his claws itching to tear into your flesh. He knew that’ll be one way to get you to talk.

“Who the hell are you? I won’t ask again.” He demanded once more which caused your eyebrows to furrow under your helmet. 

‘He really doesn’t know…’

Your heart tugged at his obliviousness to who was standing right before him. You cocked your head, pouting. 

“You really don’t remember me, Miggy?” 

The nickname caused Miguel’s movements to instantly halt. His heart skipped a beat. 

There was only one person he knew that called him that…

Only one person was allowed to call him something so adorable and fluffy that made him feel so vulnerable and weak in the knees...

‘This can’t be her…

Can it?’ 

He shook his head, dismissing the idea. 

“She’s in another dimension, there’s no way this is her.’ 

His hands clenched into fist, his claws stabbing into his palms so harshly, it could break skin. He was shaking in complete rage. 

He hissed, pushing you roughly against the wall of his office, trapping you in between his arms. “I don’t know what type of game you are playing, but call me that again and I’ll happily tear you to pieces.” His crimson eyes staring daggers at you through your red and blue helmet. 

Your lips quivered as you gazed up at Miguel. He was unrecognizable to you. 

‘What's wrong with him!? What's happened to my Miggy?’ 

You stared up at Miguel through your helmet with shaky eyes. “M-Miggy-”

“I said stop calling me that!” He roared, loudly punching the wall behind you. The concrete cracking under his knuckles. You jumped at his sudden outburst and looked up at him in terror.

“What is the matter? W-What has happened to you?” Your helmet hid your heartbroken, terrified eyes that looked up at Miguel, your voice trembling whilst you spoke. A scowl formed on Miguel's lips at your words.

‘What the fuck is this woman talking about?!’ 

Miguel was very confused. He had always been this way. He had a reputation for being an irritable, rigorous, and intimidating leader. He has never revealed a different side to himself to anyone...

Except her…

He quickly dismissed the thought once more. 

‘This woman isn’t her…no matter how much I’ll want it to be. It's dangerous for her to be around me. 

I've kept my distance for a reason.'

He assured, the thought making his face become even more grim. He leaned in closer to you, his fury clearly visible. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but keep dodging my questions…” He harshly grabbed your throat with his large hand and gave it an uncomfortable squeeze.

“I’ll be forced to turn to other ways to get you to talk.” 

His words made your heart drop, his hand wrapped around your throat, terrified you. 

Miguel’s eyes glanced down at your body. You had a stunning and hot physique, one that would make him go a little crazy on any other day, and that made him feel strange. He had never felt this way about another woman.

He only had his eyes set on one…

One that wasn’t here with him…

He kept looking over your body, taking it all in. He was even more confused and irritated by your suit that resembled his.

His spidersuit was handcrafted by himself and Lyla, it was unique and one of a kind. Miguel’s signature red and blue, holographic suit was technologically customized to be able to withstand any and all types of attacks and blows. Unlike other suits, his signature one accommodated to his vampiric features of his spider powers.

So, seeing it worn by this mysterious woman only added to his confusion about who you were.

“Who are you and why the hell do you have this suit!?” He snarled, his talons pressing into your throat, causing the tech distortion of your suit to sputter around his fingers.

You whimpered at the sight of his crimson, hateful eyes and his aggressiveness towards you. “Y-You really don’t remember me?” 

“No, I don’t. Who the hell are you?” His tone was harsh and direct. It was for good reason. He couldn’t allow some stranger to be roaming around the spider society’s HQ, especially one as mysterious as you. 

Your lips trembled. You’ve hoped by your appearance, by your suit, your voice even that he would have remembered. 

Your hand shakingly went up to cup his face in your gloved palm. “H-has it really been that long, Miggy?” You whispered, slowly caressing his cheek with your thumb. 

Miguel’s entire body became rigid, your touch instantly making him melt. A sudden purr escaped his lips causing his eyes to flutter. 

That touch was so familiar,

Nostalgic. 

His sense of touch didn't let him down, even when his eyes and nose did. He could clearly recall this feeling, and he was perplexed as to how he could have forgotten it.

His hand that had been around your throat dropped to his side. He hesitantly slipped your hand into his big gloved one, withdrawing it from his cheek. Your hand, so small compared to his massive one. He tried his best to keep a stern look, he couldn't let his guard down until he was certain it was you.

"Take off your helmet…" 

He said slowly, trying to keep the firmness in his voice. 

You looked back at his ice-cold and steely visage after glancing down at his hold on your wrist. Miguel has changed from what you last remembered. He has never spoken to you in this tone before, and it startled you a little.

"W-what happened to you Miggy? Y-You-"

"Take off your helmet or I'll do it for you." 

His pupils reddened even more, his scowl deepening. His grip on your wrist tightened, his sharp nails starting to puncture the fabric of your holographic suit, creating tiny bursts of white distortion beneath his relentless grasp. You whimpered at the tightness. 

“O-Okay…” You stammered, causing Miguel’s heart to skip a beat. 

Obeying his command, your trembling free hand slowly rose to your neck, where an array of buttons awaited, one of them capable of removing your helmet. 

Miguel's heart pounded within his chest, a blend of anticipation and apprehension coursing through him. He yearned to unveil the identity of this enigmatic woman, yet he couldn't shake the uncertainty of whether it was genuinely you or not.

Your finger located the desired button, and with a soft click, your helmet started to disintegrate. Your hair sprung free from its tight confines, and your glossy eyes were unveiled to Miguel as you peered up at him.

His eyes widened, and he promptly released your wrist, backing away from you.

'This can't be!

S-she's not supposed to be here!' 

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed! Stay tuned for Part 2!! 😊❤️

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