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#especially with my writing like as though you are some authority
minkdelovely · 3 days
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Hi! I love your Al writing. Could you do something where the reader is very playful and often wants him to chase her?
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Alastor x GN!Reader
tags: fluff, established relationship, not explicit but as a general rule MDI 18+
author’s note: thank you so much, i really appreciate hearing that you like the way i write him! i’ve been trying my best to respect his character as much as possible while still having some fun, so that really means a lot 🥹 i decided to go with fluff and gn! just to be safe, but hopefully i’ve done your ask justice - thank you for sending it my way 💖✨
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“Dearest, have you seen my bow tie?” Alastor called from the bedroom, nearly making you drop your earring in the bathroom sink.
This was a loaded question, as Alastor had a handful of identical ties. Of course you knew which one he was referring to, unsurprised that he had figured out it was missing. That had been the point, after all, but you weren’t ready to call your little game quits just yet.
“Which one, the black?” you called back, smiling at yourself as you secured the earring. Teasing him was simply too much fun.
Alastor had been working very closely with Charlie and Vaggie over the last couple months planning a grand re-opening of the hotel to showcase it to any and all interested sinners. After countless late nights and meticulous scheduling, the night was finally here. So naturally, Alastor had gotten a fresh suit and tie to mark the occasion.
He appeared in the doorway, eyeing you with suspicion in the mirror, and you busied yourself with the second earring as your pulse jumped. You knew he favored red, but you wouldn’t be opposed to him wearing black more often. If you had thought the tuxedo was nice while it hung in the armoire, it was positively magnificent on Alastor. All that was missing was the white bow tie.
A small part of you felt bad to use this as an opportunity to play around, but you couldn’t help it! The past week had been particularly stressful — wouldn’t it be nice to let off a little steam before the big event?
“Is this really the time for one of your little games?” he asked, voice low, your eyes still locked on each other in the mirror as he caged you in from behind. You shivered as he placed a kiss to your bare shoulder. He was good at playing games, too. “I know you’ve done something with it.”
“And why would I sabotage your big night?” you asked, turning your nose up in feigned innocence.
His large hands gripped your hips, causing you to gasp, and you felt yourself shrinking into him as his intense eyes stared you down in the mirror. The satisfied smile on his lips almost made you lightheaded. This hadn’t been part of the plan, but it was a welcome twist, though you didn’t mistake his roaming hands as lustful. Lucky for you and unfortunate for him, the bow tie wasn’t hidden on your person. Did he think he was dealing with an amateur?
Alastor tutted and released you after a brief but thorough pat down. “Not here, hm? I’ll give you one more chance to tell me before I become cross.”
You slipped out from under him and made your way to the door, pausing only long enough to wink before making a run for it. He said your name in warning from the bathroom before coming after you, chasing you around the suite as you giggled. You were shockingly adept at avoiding him; he normally only caught you when he cheated.
The chase went on for a minute or so before a shadow wrapped around your waist and tossed you on the bed. A couple more pinned you down as Alastor loomed over you, a winning look his face.
“Come darling, we really don’t have much time. Especially if you’ve wrinkled it.”
You pouted and laid on the melodrama, pretending to be offended. “Wrinkle? Do you really think I’d stoop so low?” When all he did was raise an eyebrow in response, you sighed. The game was over. For now at least. “It’s in my underwear drawer.”
He scoffed and brought a hand to his head, finally releasing you from his shadow’s hold as he made his way to your dresser. “Why here, of all places?”
He was so cute when he was perplexed, and you smiled to yourself as you watched him fuss with the tie.
“Because you’d never think to check there, obviously.”
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xxchumanixx · 3 days
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Okay, Tim Bradford x reader, but the reader is a police captain and becomes the captain of the mid-wilshire division after Zoë and that one dude. They are married, and the reader is expecting?
It's Captain, baby
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Tim Bradford x wife!reader
Warnings/Tags: fluff, Tim being a little grumpy Word count: 879 Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I hope you like it. It was very fun to write and I really like the idea!
Enjoy!
It was meant as a surprise - really.
He knew you wanted to become a captain one day, so when the LAPD asked if you wanted to become the captain of mid wilshire, you instantly said yes.
That you'd be the captain of your own husband, slipped your mind in said moment, though.
You decided not to tell him 'for now', pushing the matter further and further away, until there was no further anymore - until the day you were supposed to start as captain.
Maybe it wasn't the best idea, risking that he'd have a heart attack or get mad, when he saw you - especially considering that you were six months pregnant, and your new position meant stress and pressure - something you weren't supposed to have until in at least about three months, when you were in labor.
Biting your lip and rocking on your heels, you nervously waited for Sergeant Grey to announce you.
The moment he'd say your name, Tim would find out - and he wouldn't like that you refrained from telling him beforehand.
But he was a professional - he wouldn't let you see any emotion on his face during roll call - no, he would tell you how he felt in detail afterwards, giving you an even more guilty conscience.
"And now, I'm happy to introduce our new captain: Y/N Bradford! Please give her a warm welcome." Grey announced, causing your heart to miss a beat, as your hands doubled their sweating.
Taking a deep breath, you entered the room, trying to avoid Tim's face - which, despite your supposition, showed the slightest bit of shock and anger - as you made your way to the pult.
Forcing yourself to smile at the numerous people applauding you, you braced yourself for the speech you had prepared.
"Hello, for those who don't know me yet, my name's Y/N Bradford - yes, I'm sergeant Bradford's wife, and yes, I am pregnant." you started nervously.
A fit of quiet laughter echoed through the crowd, lifting some of the weight off your shoulders.
"I'm proud to call myself captain of the mid Wilshire department." you continued, nodding slightly. "I started here as a rookie, thinking that I knew everything and could do everything. But I didn't - which is an important thing to realize. We're all here for one goal: the safety of our city."
Your eyes briefly found Tim's, his jaw clenched. He looked straight back at you, not even blinking.
"But that means, that we have to learn a lot, especially about ourselves. I know how hard you work for this goal, and I know what it takes to do so. I once was where you are now, and I will have your backs, no matter what. If there's something you wanna talk about - let me know. I'm here to support you, and it's an honor to be your captain. That's it."
They applauded again, causing your cheeks to turn pinkish. Your heart beat fastened in your chest, hands trembling a little, as you smiled at them.
They were your people now, they counted on you, and you'd do everything in your power, to never let them down.
When the room cleared, Tim was the only one still sitting with his arms crossed over his chest.
He was clearly angry.
Taking a shaky breath, you walked over to him, preparing yourself for his speech.
He stayed silent for a couple more moments, just staring at you, before he stood, hands on the table as he leaned towards you.
"Did you even plan to tell me at all?" he wanted to know, brows furrowed. It took all his might not to get too loud, trying to look calmer than he was as well.
His colleagues didn't need to know that he was angry - fuming even.
"Did you think about our baby? What if it's too dangerous - not to mention the stress! Why didn't you tell me beforehand?"
"I did want to tell you." you stated, biting your lip. "But I didn't know how to. I wanted to surprise you, but I pushed it further and further away. I thought it all through, and I'm gonna take it slow - no harm for the baby. Imagine my surprise when they asked me to become their captain - me of all people!"
He bit his lip as well, the corners of his mouth twitching treacherously. At least he wouldn't stay angry at you for long.
"Are you happy?" he wanted to know, glancing at your belly. It was getting harder each day to find something that covered it up at least a little.
Nodding, you pressed out a dry laugh. "I am, but I'm scared as shit." you admitted, causing the crinkles around his eyes to deepen.
"I mean, I wanted to become a captain for so long, but - how to captain? How does this work? It's like my mind suddenly just went blank."
He chuckled, keeping himself from kissing you in front of the curious eyes watching you - didn't they have any work to do?
"I'm glad you like it, baby." he said honestly, his lips wide in a proud smile, as you huffed, cocking a brow.
"It's Captain, baby."
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sophsicle · 1 year
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here is my advice to writers. never listen to anything any writing advice post on this website tells you.
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neorxnawangs · 2 months
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reading a hated popular tiktok book because at least i’m a knowledgeable hater
#it ends with us by colleen hoover is….. hm.#the writing itself is terrible. the character and their dialogue is cringe inducing. i liked atlas. i liked lily’s relationship with her mom#her friendship with allysa would be good if they weren’t both so annoying. the ending was fine. but honestly….. the only part that made me#any type of emotional was the author’s note at the end. hoover’s personal anecdote about her family was actually heartbreaking and i can see#why she wrote the novel the way that she did but at the same time the focus on the romance and ryle was so…… weird. i don’t know. i feel#like a good book was actually hidden somewhere in here but trying to straddle the line between romance and abuse doesn’t work if you spend#90% of the time on the romance. the darker more introspective parts of the novel get overshadowed by the light romantic writing style#she used and it really did not work. nothing held much gravity if that makes sense….. i mean this is a book that references finding nemo#like its some kind of religion. LILY BLOSSOM BLOOM gave her daughter the middle name DORY. i lauged out out im sorry but that’s insane.#i think i can see and appreciate what hoover was going for. i just dont think she did it well. and god. shes such a millennial it hurt#i’ll never read one of her books again but i guess i understand the hype its a very easy read i did the whole book in an afternoon and it#has hallmark humor and romance with that dark side that again i dont think she did well. so i see why they get popular. this book just wasnt#that good though. the only thing i really liked was maybe lily and her mom’s relationship? and i thought atlas was alright maybe only becaus#he wasnt really in jt. but overall would NOT recommend do not waste your time. not that anyome on tumblr is reading the hoov but hey. my#two cents <3#at least i can tell people it sucks now. and have the opinions to back the statement up. especially with the movie coming out 😀🔫#my post#also i will say this. i think lily was supposed to be like sixteen when she met atlas the first time which is. gross. because he’s 18.#sophomore/senior is kinda gross to me sorry! its only two years but the maturity levels are so different and i really dont think the book is#improved by this is any way….. just make her the same age as him they’re already going to school together 😭
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sansaorgana · 11 days
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— THROWN TO THE WOLVES (V)
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PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE PART FOUR || PART SIX || PART SEVEN PART EIGHT
PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Atreides!OC
SUMMARY — When Baron Harkonnen breaks the truce with The Atreides family, the new na-baroness is forced to choose a side.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is Paul Atreides’ half-sister. Finally something big happens in this chapter. 🤣 I have to admit, I couldn't wait to write this part... 🤭 Big thanks to all my readers – especially the ones sending sweet messages and leaving comments! 💝
WARNINGS — arranged marriage, mentions of sexual activities (no actual smut), violent behaviour, death, mentions of planned and scientifical breeding
WORD COUNT — 6,110
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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THROWN TO THE WOLVES (V)
Duke Leto was sitting in his office, trying to focus on the papers in front of him. All the important documents that required him to sign or disapprove. However, his mind was occupied with another matter.
He sighed and leaned back on the chair before laying his eyes on one of the pictures on his desk. Picture of his children from a few months back during one of the last events on Caladan.
His beloved Paul, looking shy and uncomfortable as always, trying very hard to present himself dignified. And his beloved daughter – a copy of her late mother – presenting herself very regal and confident in a natural way. Her mother had not been like that – Leto remembered her as a quiet and timid woman; a personification of delicacy. Her daughter looked like her but the Princess' strong gaze resembled his own. There was no stoicism behind the strength of her eyes, though. It was rage. She had been an innocent, sheltered Princess all her life. But there had always been that fire in her eyes. Lady Jessica had been the one to point that out one day and Leto couldn’t stop seeing that now.
Once again he found himself opening one of the drawers and re-reading the letter from Baron Harkonnen. His eyes skipped all the official parts about the alliance as he found the fragment about his daughter.
I can assure you that your daughter is behaving properly and gracing us every day with her beauty and wisdom. My nephew is mesmerised by her and he kept the new na-baroness in his chambers for two days after the wedding. She seems to be as occupied with him, therefore I would not worry about not receiving any letters from her. I do believe na-baroness is busy with her marital duties at the moment. It was very generous of you to send us such an exquisite gem in the form of your own daughter.
Duke Leto gritted his teeth. He did not believe a single word coming from Baron Harkonnen. And he hated the part about Feyd-Rautha keeping his daughter in the bedroom for two days. It was there to spite him. To let him know that his daughter had already been claimed by another man and belonged to him now.
“You’re worrying again,” Lady Jessica walked inside the office and interrupted him as he looked up to lay his eyes on her. He smiled softly at the sight of her. “She’s adapting well,” she stood behind Leto and put her hands on his shoulders. “Baron seems to be pleased.”
“I wish I could get a letter from her personally,” Leto sighed and hid the letter from the Baron. “I feel as if she resents me for sending her there.”
“She will have all the power there that she would never have here as your daughter or on her grandfather’s planet as some lord’s wife,” Lady Jessica pointed out. “That’s what she’s always wanted. Power.”
“I think you judge her too harshly sometimes,” Leto furrowed his brow.
“She is ensuring our safety,” Lady Jessica whispered. “She’s adapting well there, I just know it. And we are safe here thanks to her little sacrifice that will only give her power in the end. She is a winner, too,” she tried to convince her lover.
“She didn’t reply to my letter. Nor Paul’s,” Leto pointed out. “I can understand her deciding to discard me. But why Paul? He is her younger brother, is he not? I still remember them as children, when everything was easier. How he would run up to her, excited to play and spend time together. How she would take naps with him, holding him close when he had nightmares. How they would pick flowers together on the fields of Caladan…”
“They are not children anymore,” Lady Jessica chuckled softly. “Their childhood connection is long gone, Leto. Your love for them makes you blind but she’s been jealous of our son for a long time now. Even here,” she pointed at the picture on his desk that he had been staring at earlier, “she presents herself as if she was the future Duchess Atreides. That’s what she always wanted. So she is getting it. Only that she’s going to be Baroness Harkonnen instead.”
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Weeks passed. They were mostly boring for you but you focused on reading the most important books from the Harkonnen library. They contained information that you had never heard of while studying the Harkonnen culture before. Most of your days you spent in the relaxation area and your husband’s bed.
Your body not only grew used to his roughness but also learnt to crave it. Your mind and heart did not love him – you doubted it was even possible – but your body desired him with every fibre and every nerve. You desired him to claim you and you desired to claim him. His hunger was insatiable, so you still had to share him with his three cannibalistic pets and other whores occasionally but you were gaining more of his favours with each day.
He was nicer to you. Slightly nicer, but he did not terrify you so much anymore. However, you still didn’t have control over him. He still would back out whenever you tried to show him affection. And in order to really keep him interested in you, you had to feed his sadistic desires, too. You couldn’t be obedient and kind at all times – he needed you to act up sometimes, he needed you to show off your teeth. He needed to punish you for something and see you scared from time to time. You believed that you finally found the right pattern of how to behave around him to keep him interested in you instead of making him feel bored with the new, shiny toy.
He had a few weaknesses when it came to you. Your hair, an almost exotic symbol of beauty in the world where no one had it because of the centuries of being exposed to the poisonous atmosphere. The colour of your skin, another symbol of being an off-world prize for the brutal na-baron. Your breasts – something about them would make him softer, at least as much as it was possible for a man like him. 
Today you decided to show off what he liked the most, to make him proud in front of the guests. You were excited yourself about the very first event like this as the na-baroness of Giedi Prime. The Baron had invited many guests and friends from the many befriended planets for the feast. The reason was unknown to you but you were happy that some social responsibility would disrupt your boring daily routine.
You began to search through your wardrobe. It would be your first public appearance since Feyd’s fight in the arena.
“I wore red then so it’s out of question to wear it again,” you reminded Cara and Astra. “I don’t want to wear black today, though. I want to stand out in front of the guests from the other worlds.”
“Na-baroness, may I suggest?” Astra swallowed thickly and you nodded at her. “I think black might be a good choice, my Lady. As you mentioned, there will be guests from other worlds. They are no Harkonnen. You are, na-baroness,” she bowed her head nervously.
“Thank you, my sweet. Even if I disagreed with you, I wouldn’t punish you,” you assured her and she smiled sweetly at you. “Actually, I think you are right,” you told her and she widened her eyes, not being able to believe that her opinion mattered. “I think black is a good choice. I don’t want to present myself as a tormented Princess Atreides. I want to present myself as a Harkonnen to these people. I don’t want them to pity me.”
Cara approached the wardrobe, encouraged by Astra’s little success. She dared to suggest one of the dresses. It was made of black, shiny and elastic material you had never seen before.
“What is it made of?” You asked her.
“Latex, my Lady.”
“What is latex?” You were not sure as you touched the dress. It didn’t feel very pleasant.
“Just try it on, may I suggest? It looks better on a person, na-baroness,” Cara tried to convince you and you agreed because you were curious about that odd thing.
You couldn’t recognize yourself in the mirror. What it did to your breasts was unbelievable. It was tight, it was shiny, it was sexual. The inside of it was covered with a thin layer of silk so it didn’t feel uncomfortable on your body at all.
“This is it,” you nodded with a smile and brushed your hair with your fingers. You were tempted to let it loose again. “And a headpiece,” you decided.
It was not common for The Harkonnen noble women to wear diadems or headpieces because they did not look as regal on bald heads and they were easy to slip off. Therefore, you had not been given any after the wedding because they simply were not a part of the family collection. However, there was one that you had brought with you from Caladan. It had originally been golden but you had ordered the jeweller at the fortress to change its appearance a few days earlier, when you had found out about the upcoming feast.
Cara and Astra approached your vanity to take it out and place it on your head before securing it from falling off. It was now black and had small chains dangling off of it, forming a metallic veil that covered your face – enough to make you look mysterious but not enough to make you look like a Bene Gesserit witch.
The doors leading to Feyd’s bedroom opened rapidly. Astra and Cara got startled but you were used to him interrupting your peace in the most unexpected ways. He was not the type to knock. Not that you knocked before walking into his bedroom either. But he had the comfort of being able to lock his side of the door and you did not have that privilege.
“My Lord,” your girls bowed down and took a few steps back from you.
You laid your eyes on him. He was wearing his usual official attire, the leather uniform, similar to the one he had worn at your wedding.
He smirked at the sight of you but you could not tell if it was because he found you attractive or was it dictated by his contempt towards your choice. Perhaps both.
“I wanted to inspect your choice of outfit. You see, when we are presenting ourselves to our allies from the other worlds, we need to keep up appearances. I can’t let you pull off any stunts like you did in the arena,” he licked his lips and approached you.
“I would have pulled off a stunt if I had worn that garbage you wanted me to put on,” you reminded him. “I gave your people the na-baroness they expected.”
“And now you’re giving our allies the whore? Interesting.” He teased and you furrowed your brows. His words had disappointed and hurt you.
“I can change, my Lord,” you looked down, trying to see if it would soften him.
“No, keep it,” he ordered and raised your chin with his finger to make you look into his eyes. His pupils were darkened already.
He was impossible, you thought. Already turned on. Like an undomesticated animal.
“I understand that you want your allies to see that you turned Princess Atreides into your whore. But that was not my wish…” You explained truthfully.
“No? And what was that?” He cooed ironically and you knew that your genuine answer would only make him laugh.
“I wanted to present myself as a Harkonnen,” you answered genuinely.
Indeed, he laughed at you.
“You…” he hissed as he approached you. You held your breath when his face was a few inches away from yours. “...will never be a Harkonnen,” he stated with all the intensity. “You might get used to see me slitting throats, you might play your little games and you might enjoy it when I fuck you like a whore but you will always have that rabbit heart of yours. You’re weak,” he pointed out.
Keeping your poker face on was extremely difficult. You wanted to kill him at that moment. And he might have been one of the best warriors in the whole galaxy but your anger almost convinced you that your rage was enough to actually strangle him to death.
However, you had to remain cold and unbothered. You had always known that your game with him would not only be full of victories but also full of little defeats like this one.
Suddenly, his face softened as he took a step back and cupped your face.
“I want you to wear it. I want them to see what only I can fuck,” he leaned in to place a possessive kiss on your lips.
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Feyd was keeping you close, with his hand on your waist at all times. You were practically forced to cling to him as he was showing you off like a trophy. Whenever some noble couple from another planet approached you to greet you, they were eyeing you up and down with a mix of emotions you could spot on their faces. Surprise and fear dominated. There was pity, too, but you didn’t allow it to bother you. You only hated that you presented yourself more as your husband’s pet than the dignified na-baroness.
At some point you leaned into him and put one of your hands on his chest. He stiffened at that movement but couldn’t push you away in front of all these people. However, that simple movement allowed you to switch the dynamic a little. Not only were you his but he was also yours.
“(Y/N)...” Someone’s familiar voice made you turn around in disbelief. 
“Grandpa…?” You gasped at the sight of him.
You had only seen your mother’s family twice in your life. They had visited Caladan when you were a child for a few days. And once you had spent a few weeks there in the summer at the age of fifteen. Most of your relationship relied on correspondence but it was not very frequent either. Your grandfather was a Marquis ruling the whole planet and his duties were many. Exchanging letters with his granddaughter was not the most important one of them, sadly.
“What are you doing here?” You couldn’t hide your excitement although you gave a woman next to him an unpleasant look. She was not your grandmother. She was the local Bene Gesserit that had been watching you sometimes whenever you ran into her on the corridor.
“I was invited by the Baron, naturally,” he extended his hands to hold yours and you allowed him. “He is my friend, after all.”
“I did not know the friendship was so close,” you admitted.
“Not many people were allowed to know,” he smiled at you and then he nodded his head at your husband. “Na-baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. I do believe you treat my granddaughter kindly,” he let go of your hands and Feyd brought you closer to him possessively once again.
“You ask her, my Lord,” Feyd’s fingers pinched your side as your grandfather’s eyes laid on you.
What were you even supposed to say?
“Feyd-Rautha is the best husband I could ask for,” you nodded as the disgusting lies spilled out of your mouth like it was honey. Your grandfather smiled at that. “He is the bravest and the most skilled warrior I have ever known,” you added. “There is not a day I do not feel honoured.”
“This makes me happy,” your grandfather looked very content indeed.
“Where is grandmother? Is she alright?” You asked, worryingly.
“She does not like long trips. Forgive me, I believe I am being called,” your grandfather nodded and walked away. The Bene Gesserit followed and you watched them approaching the Baron.
“I want to spend more time with him…” You looked at Feyd but his face was unreadable. “Can I?” You pleaded.
“He is busy now, can’t you see, pet? Don’t be too greedy and impatient,” he scolded you as if you were a child.
“But later. Oh, please,” you hated to show desperation in your voice but you were so happy to see someone familiar, some member of your family, someone who would hug you and comfort you… Someone who would promise you that you were safe.
“Later,” he nodded and you sighed out of relief. So much joy had suddenly filled your heart that you wanted to kiss his cheek but you knew he would get angry.
On the other hand, he wouldn’t cause a scene in front of all these people.
You moved even closer to him as if you tried to wrap around his body like a snake. His muscles stiffened under his uniform and then you pecked his cheek delicately with your lips.
Oh, the look he gave you was deadly. But he didn’t do anything.
“Behave or I’ll tell the guards to take you back to your room,” he threatened.
And all the joy that had filled your heart, disappeared in an instant.
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The feast didn’t take long. You expected it to take the whole night but at midnight you were already in your black nightgown, laying on Feyd’s bed and watching him take off his uniform. He was oddly slow with it as if he didn’t feel like fucking you at all on that night.
“Are you coming or not?” You whined.
You hated to admit it, but you really were impatient for his touch.
“Waiting like that is part of having fun, my pet,” he chuckled and looked at the door leading out of his bedroom.
He was checking them all the time that night and you furrowed your brow. He was acting differently and it was making you feel anxious.
“Being edged is no fun to me, Feyd. When I want something, I want it now,” you crawled up closer to the bed’s edge, trying to play it cool and not show your nervousness.
“Edged, huh?” He smirked at you. “You know what it’s called?”
“I don’t only read history books, you know…”
“Enough,” he cut you off by cupping your cheeks with one of his hands. “You talk too much, pet.”
You could only communicate with your eyes now, so you tried to give him a doe-eyed look but the doors to his bedroom opened rapidly at that moment and you saw a bunch of guards storming inside.
“It’s time, my Lord,” one of them nodded his head and Feyd grabbed your wrists to drag you out of the bed.
“What… What are you doing? What is going on?” You asked, both surprised and terrified. Had you done something wrong…? Had you angered him somehow…? How…? By doing what…? You panicked.
Now it made sense why he had been undressing so slow. He was still dressed and ready for whatever would happen now. But you were in nothing but your nightgown, thrown at the guards who grabbed your limbs as you kicked and screamed.
They dragged you out of the bedroom as Feyd followed. At some point you yelled for help so loud that it surprised your own self how loud you could be. Feyd approached you and the guards stopped.
“Shut up,” he slapped your face, “and cooperate,” he added sternly. There was something in his eyes that was surprisingly not harsh or terrifying. Almost as if he was on your side.
You swallowed thickly and nodded your head, deciding to… trust him? Well, whether you liked it or not, he was the only Harkonnen person you could trust. The only person you had on that planet.
And perhaps the only person you had in the whole world. Your family had gotten rid of you. Your grandfather hadn’t looked very interested to spend time with you during that feast despite you trying to approach him on multiple occasions.
The guards took you to the throne room and your eyes widened at the sight of your grandfather standing next to the Baron. Count Rabban and the Bene Gesserit woman were there as well. The guards threw you on the floor and left the room. Feyd stood behind you with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Baron Harkonnen… Grandfather… What is going on…?” You looked at them and then you focused on your grandfather as he was the only person you loved in that whole room and the only one who shared his blood with yours. Even if his presence in this room and the fact he participated in this whole thing made your heart sink deep in your chest.
“You will spend this night in the cell, na-baroness,” Baron Harkonnen announced. For the first time he addressed you properly, probably because of your grandfather’s presence.
“Wh-what? Why?!” You stood up clumsily and looked angrily at your husband. “Feyd?” You asked him but he remained silent. You looked back at his uncle. “What have I done wrong, my Lord? Have I done something? Have I angered you? Disobeyed?” You nearly begged to find out because you genuinely did not know.
“Nothing that I know of,” Baron chuckled and you took a deep breath in to calm yourself down a little. He didn’t look angry at you, which was a good sign. “You will be kept there until you calm yourself down so you don’t act up too much in the upcoming days,” he mysteriously explained.
“Why would I…, my Lord?” You furrowed your brow since you couldn’t think of anything special coming in the upcoming days. Feyd would have another fight in the arena in two weeks but he surely hadn’t meant that. Especially that you had behaved well during the last one.
“Count Rabban and I are leaving for Arrakis tonight,” Baron’s words were slow as he was observing your reaction to each one of them. “To take over the spice production and kill your family.”
Before your mind processed his words, your body already tensed and nearly jumped in his direction aggressively but it was Feyd who held you from behind in his strong grip.
Once again, you had no idea if he was there to protect his uncle or to protect you.
“I don’t understand,” you looked at your grandfather, confused. You let Feyd hold you in place because the confusion and the betrayal that you felt were still not stronger than your will to survive.
You had to play this one right. Perhaps that was your most important trail in front of the Harkonnens.
Your grandfather looked at the Baron with a nice smile. The same he had been giving you earlier. You suddenly realised it was not genuinely kind; it was filled with poison and forgery.
“Let me explain to my granddaughter. I do believe we owe her that at least, Vladimir.”
Vladimir. He had addressed him by his first name…? You began to breathe heavily, like a wild animal preparing to attack.
“Shh, my pet,” Feyd whispered into your ear as he pressed his face into the back of your head. “Behave,” he reminded you.
“Go on, my friend,” Baron smirked and your grandfather started approaching you.
“What about an alliance with my father?” You asked him. “I am here to ensure the alliance between the two houses.”
“No, my beloved granddaughter, you are here for your safety,” your grandfather faced you and laid his hand to caress your cheek. “You look exactly like her…” His eyes softened a little. “My beloved daughter,” he whispered and then his face got serious again. “We have known about the plan to get rid of the Atreides family for a long time now. We could not let our sweet granddaughter be slaughtered alongside them all.”
“If you wanted to keep me safe, you could have just asked my father to send me to you sooner instead of allowing him to send me here,” you drawled out. You hated him now. He was a snake. Yet another person who had stood behind the whole scheming which resulted in you being on Giedi Prime.
It hurt. As much as you hated to admit that you still had feelings and you still had a heart that was able to be broken… it hurt. You had discarded the Atreides family but you still treated your mother’s family as your friends. As people who cared about you, who loved you, who would intervene if The Harkonnens would seriously hurt you one day.
But now you realised that you had known nothing about them and everything you had believed them to be was nothing but an illusion; a romanticised image you had created in your head to cope with the fact you would never fit in with the rest of the Atreides. Your mother’s family had always been an opposite in your head – they would love you, they would adore you, they would always be nice and kind, they would treat you equally.
It had been childish to think this way.
“I could have done that, yes… But we saw the opportunity for you on Giedi Prime. There has never been a woman from our family marrying into a family so important and so rich. Your aunt convinced the other Bene Gesserit sisters to allow this union. Your bloodline was satisfyingly enough for Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen…”
“My aunt?” You interrupted him. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, don’t you know? Your mother’s sister is a powerful Bene Gesserit,” he explained, surprised. “I thought Lady Jessica would tell you.”
“We barely talked,” you spat out.
All your life you hated women like Lady Jessica. You hated the Bene Gesserit because you hated her. And now… another disappointment. Your own aunt was one of them. And she had been the one to seal your fate when it came to selling you out to these monsters.
“But I know enough about her,” you continued. “I know she wouldn’t be so stupid to let this happen. Lady Jessica would know your agenda.”
“Perhaps,” your grandfather nodded. “She is powerful. But even powerful people make mistakes. Lady Jessica was so desperate to get rid of you that she saw her own opportunity in it. She was desperate for you to disappear because you were growing too envious of your brother and too power hungry for her liking,” he told you and you clenched your jaw.
You felt Feyd moving slightly behind you. His grip loosened slightly.
“My pet…?” He smirked into your ear. He didn’t expect you to have it in you. The hunger for power. The hatred for your own brother. Those were the things he would never accuse you of. In his eyes, you had been nothing but a spoiled, innocent Princess before coming to Giedi Prime. Sheltered in a big castle and showing off her dresses all day long.
“So… Lady Jessica got betrayed?” You asked your grandfather and he nodded.
“She is playing her own dangerous game by trying to change the prophecy. The other Bene Gesserit were happy to get rid of her. She will be slain tonight alongside your father and their son,” he explained and walked away to stand next to the Baron again.
“Is she my aunt?” You looked at the Bene Gesserit standing next to them.
“No, she is the local one. A close friend,” your grandfather explained and she nodded at you. “She’s been watching over you.”
“It is time for us,” Baron pointed out and you watched him float away with all the machinery keeping him alive. Count Rabban followed him.
You didn’t know what to feel. You were conflicted in every possible way. But you knew there was no way of saving your family no matter what you’d do. It would only kill you, too, if you tried to intervene or beg for their lives. You had to think of your own life now. 
“Count Rabban!” You yelled after him angrily and Feyd’s muscles tensed once again as his grip tightened. He hissed at you but you did not care. His brother turned around to look at you. “Make sure to get them all!”
He froze for a moment, visibly surprised.
“My Lady,” he nodded and walked away after his uncle.
The guards walked inside a moment later and Feyd allowed them to take you from his arms.
They dragged you to the same cell that you had slept in before your wedding. When the doors got locked and you were left alone in the darkness, that was when you finally realised what was happening. Your body started to tremble and shake uncontrollably. You curled up on the bed and sobbed quietly.
As much as you hated your family for discarding you, as much as you hated your father for choosing Paul over you, as much as you hated Lady Jessica’s mending, as much as you hated Paul for simply existing… You never wished death upon them. Not even her.
You remembered being a little girl and playing with Paul. You remembered his curly hair in the sun, his laughter as he was hugging you, his small hands when he was handing you picked up flowers.
You remembered waking up in the middle of the night, crying after a nightmare. It was Lady Jessica joining you in bed, letting you cuddle her as she would tell you stories. You remembered her laughter during the rare occasions when you all had acted like a family. As a little girl, you had adored watching her getting dressed. She would allow you to try on her outfits and brush her hair.
And your father… He had always been trying to love you. He had always been trying to show you affection. He would sit you on his lap as he filed the paperwork. He would take you on his ship to show off what a skilled pilot he was. He would forgive you every outburst of anger, every whine and eye-roll of a spoiled Princess.
You never wished death upon them. Perhaps all you had ever wanted was for them to love you.
And now you couldn’t even openly grieve after them. You couldn’t let anyone see your hurt. Especially not Feyd. A murderer of his own mother would not understand your pain after your family’s death. You had to be a Harkonnen about it. No more rabbit heart. No more weakness.
You sniffed and hugged your own self with your hands. You thought to yourself that if you were to survive this night, you would survive everything.
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The cell had no windows. You didn’t know what hour it was when you woke up. You went to the small bathroom attached to the room and took a quick shower before seeing yourself in the mirror.
Something had died in your eyes the previous night. You were an orphan now. You had no home. No mother, no father, no brother.
You almost threw up from this feeling but you managed to keep it all inside.
“You’re a Harkonnen now, you’re a Harkonnen,” you kept repeating as your fists clenched on the sides of the sink. “You’re a Harkonnen.”
You heard the door of the cell opening and you walked out of the bathroom to face Feyd-Rautha.
“You’re free to go,” he said, casually.
“So fast?” You asked, surprised. “Your uncle mentioned I’d spend a few days here at least.”
“He’s on Arrakis. I am in charge when he’s gone and I say you’re free to go. Unless you want to rot here,” he looked at your face as his eyes squinted. He was observing every single thing about you to see your reaction.
You decided to give him none.
You just walked out of the cell and he followed you.
“So… I’m free to go back to my room now?” You asked him and he nodded.
“I was thinking of showing you something, though,” he proposed and you raised an eyebrow at him. “Follow me,” he ordered and you nodded, curious to find out what he had possibly meant.
He led you to the throne room, which was completely empty.
“What are we doing here?” You asked but he beckoned you over to follow him with his hand. So you did and you ended up standing in front of the huge throne that belonged to his uncle.
Feyd sat on it lazily with his legs spread open in an almost vulgar manner.
“Is that what you wanted to show me?” You mocked him. “That you’re in charge now?”
“Come here,” he drawled out and you sat across his lap. Between your legs, you felt a bulge in his pants. You smirked at him.
To be honest, it was turning you on, too, to sit on that throne like that. If only the Baron could see you…
A few hours earlier you had been laying on the cold marble floor in the middle of that room, completely at his mercy. And now you were sitting on his throne, about to perform a blasphemous act, showing how little respect you had for him and his power.
“Take it off,” Feyd ordered as he tugged on the hem of your nightgown. You nodded and started to get rid of it. “Slowly,” he commanded and you obeyed.
Finally, you threw the nightgown away and allowed your hands to clasp behind his neck. He looked at you angrily but this time it did not make you move away. You weren’t scared of him anymore. You were a Harkonnen, too.
“Doesn’t it feel nice?” You whispered as you leaned in closer to his face. “To sit here?” You teased him as his hands began to grope your body as if it was a sculpture for him to admire but he was only a barbarian with no knowledge about the beauty of art. “Doesn’t it feel nice, my Baron?” You whispered into his ear and bit him slightly on the neck.
“You have to be patient, pet,” he finally spoke up. Feyd-Rautha was not stupid – sadly, because it would make life easier for you. He knew very well what you tried to achieve when you were calling him a Baron. He knew what you wanted him to do.
“Haven’t I told you…? When I want something, I want it now,” you reminded him and you joined your lips with his to give him that possessive kiss that he would so often give you. Everything you knew about these things, you had learnt from him after all.
Even if he was slightly surprised by your behaviour, he was trying not to show it. But there was some confusion in his bright eyes that was making you smirk.
“You have to be patient, my darling,” he raised one of his hands to trace your pouting lips with his finger. You gave it a little bite and giggled.
“Why?” You asked.
“It is not the right time yet... But it will be soon,” he hesitated for a moment, “Baroness.”
You gasped at that word leaving his heathen mouth. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen called you a baroness and there was no hint of irony in his voice. His body trembled out of desire and yours felt as if it was on fire.
“Good boy,” you breathed out. “I will wait then,” you promised him, carefully watching his reaction. He was too turned on and too needy to get angry now. He’d let you say and do anything but he wouldn’t push you away. He needed to feel your body on his. “I want you to fuck me here, my Baron,” you writhed on his lap impatiently.
“And I will,” he brought you even closer to his body as if it was possible. His clothes were rough on your naked body but you did not mind. In fact, it was pleasurable. “The medic told me this morning that it’s time to breed you, my darling pet,” he told you and you swore, you had never seen his pupils so dark.
Your head became dizzy at the realisation that there was a possibility of conceiving your heir on the Baron’s throne. It would be the most delicious mockery performed towards him that you could think of.
You were so excited that at that moment you completely forgot that your family had been most likely dead now while the Harkonnen soldiers were taking over Arrakis and burning the Atreides flags.
But why would you think of that? You were a Harkonnen.
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MASTERLIST
1K notes · View notes
winterarmyy · 7 months
Text
Welcome Home, Daddy
The aftermath of when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.
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Summary: Bucky was over the moon when he discovered that Y/N was pregnant with his child. But, when the danger that lurks in dark threatened to steal his family away, a fellow soldier decided to come home.
Note: Highly recommend to read 《 Welcome Home... Soldat? 》 for backstory. But, you can also read this as a stand alone (though you might miss some call backs on the soldat's behaviour if you skip)
Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader
Words: 7.1k++ (bare with me, please)
Warnings: graphic violence, torture, blood, gore, deaths, dark undertones, sudden fluff, tiny bit of angst, google translated russian, and just so much detained anger exploding around, soldat is just deadly yet adorable in this one (i can't even handle it, and i'm the author), this event takes place far in the future after what happened in 《 Welcome Home...Soldat? 》
A/N: Looks like we have the winner for the poll 👀 Who's ready for our lovely soldat to make his appearance again? I know I'm not, but here we are. So, strap in and let's do this!
P/S: Also, I might as well make this as my submission for the seven writing event hosted by @nickfowlerrr 💌 Check out the event masterlist and support the writers by reading and reblogging their stories!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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They say the wrath of a fighter may threatened a heinous war but the wrath of a lover will let the earth drenched in bloody gore. And if a fool was daft enough to tore a lover from his other half, then they might just court themselves right into the hands of death.
And this couldn't be more true, especially if we consider the crime that the soldat was currently committing. Surely, the blood pooling on the floor will forever leave a grim mark that'll haunt the people who ever witness it.
"Where is she?" the soldat prompted the frail woman, limping on the chained chair. Despite the horrid situation, he sounded rather calm when he spoke.
How unfortunate it was for Elle to be associated with Hydra yet to also be so exposed to the dangers of the ghost himself, the Winter Soldier. Hydra may have their suspicion about the soldat making a move, but she didn't expect that she would be involved in the mess of this ordeal.
The cold metal of the soldat's vibranium fingers, particularly his index and thumb, latched themselves on another one of her nails. Her mouth slacked open but no sound was able to be formed when the soldat mercilessly ripped her nail right off her finger.
And oh, the pain was beyond any kind of injury that she had ever experienced, not a even a bullet through her flesh could be compared to this agony of a torture.
He harshly grabbed Elle by the back of her neck, forcing her to watch the blood leaking from the reddened flesh of her fingers, "I asked you a simple question, су́ка (bitch). Where the fuck is she?" The soldat's patience had been running thin and rage had clouded his judgements.
He needed to find her. His precious Родная (darling).
No matter whose neck he needed to slay or whose blood that have to be shed dry. He had to bring his darling home; no matter what it takes.
Unfortunately, it had been almost a month since he lost her.
And no one saw it coming.
Who would've thought that the old Hydra compound that the team raided were meant to be a part of a plan to weaken the Avengers. It was just a distraction filled with unexpected traps and triggers. By the time they flew home, the team were already tired and injured as the result of the raid.
So imagine the desperate struggle and utter panic that Bucky had to go through the moment he stepped his foot into the comfort of their home and had to witness Y/N's exhausted figure fighting for her life.
Hers and the baby's inside.
After hitting the 2 months mark of pregnancy, Bucky decided that Y/N shouldn't be involved in any high stake mission anymore. At first, she only laughed to his statement, thinking he was surely joking but when his stern expression didn't flatter, that was when she reliazed Bucky was not open for negotiation.
Y/N knew it was way too early to settle into her maternal leave but after having a long conversation with Bucky, they both agreed to keep her missions strictly on low-risk stakeouts and desk works at the tower.
It was supposedly be some kind of a precaution for her, to keep her and the baby safe, away from any type harm that might come their way. But, that certainly back fired.
When Bucky's burning anger had pumped him full with high stream of adrenaline, it was as if he went into an auto pilot; a murderous one at that. And soon enough he managed to take down half of Hydra's best agents that joined the mission of collecting Y/N from the tower.
For a moment, it seemed like luck was on their side, at least it felt like it.
It lasted only until Bucky saw how harsh the kick of the enemy landed on Y/N's hip, and how she managed to shield her stomach seconds before her body slammed down to the ground.
That was when fear crawled into his pumping nerves and the roots of it ran extremely cold.
And that was all it takes for Hydra to distract Bucky then immobilize him on the spot with a replica of the Sonic Taser developed by Stark Industries a few years back.
Bucky grunted painfully in protest of the high pitched sonic frequency from the device that overloads his nervous system. His body couldn't help but to slowly paralyzed its movements as his skin turned pale and the strain in his blood vessels became visible.
On the opposite side, Y/N could be seen being forcefully dragged away by a few of the Hydra agents that was left. There were couple of nasty injuries torn all over her body yet she was still stubborn on fighting back.
While she was being pulled farther away from him, she shouted his name loud and desprete, "Bucky!" Hot tears broke from the corner of her eyes as she desperately reach out her hand.
It felt as if she was right there when Bucky's hand was reaching back towards her. Like, a little bit of a push would've been enough to catch her but alas fate was not planning to be merciful.
Bucky's menancing eyes never left her wavering ones as Hydra tortured Bucky by stealing a part of his soul from him; and no one really knew how his heart clenched and torn to the fact that he was helplessly useless when Y/N needed him the most.
And when he only managed to scream back Y/N's name, he was forced to watch her wailed as she was unwillingly being taken away.
The moment when Bucky drowned himself in regret and rage, that was when the Winter Soldier took over his consciousness.
Unfortunately for the soldat, his mortal body was already worn out from all the intense fight that happened prior; he was knocked out right after he took over the body.
But in those few seconds before the darkness consumed him, the soldat managed to catch a glimpse of his darling. He saw the image of her; teary and bruised in the hands of those who created him. The very same monsters who uses him for despicable things.
That was all that he needed to see in order to break those chains around the dark pandora residing deep within his being.
The team was absolutely not ready to deal with the soldat again, this time without Y/N to tame him. Especially when his demands were unrealistic for them to fulfill.
It's been nearly 3 weeks since the incident and they had failed to locate Y/N; repeatedly. Even if they did manage to get some kind of an intel, all the of bases they had raided were basically bunch of abandoned spaces that Hydra used to occupy.
So of course the soldat was agitated. He had every right to be, more so when he thought of the increasing risk of his darling getting hurt in the hands of Hydra. And at this point, those scumbags were just messing with their minds. Especially with his.
"Listen, we're doing our best here, soldat." Steve tried to reason with him but it only fueled the burning flames within the soldat, "ты делаешь недостаточно! (You're not doing enough!)" He spat harshly that he didn't even noticed that he uses Russian language. It seemed like the unkempt irritation had conquered the chaos of his mind.
So that very night, the soldat decided to do this on his own; thus he ran away from the tower in search for his darling. He had to. Especially when he knew precisely why the Avenger was not able to find Y/N as quickly as they should be.
It was because they were the good guys. They were the heros, they were the light. And the soldat was not. In fact, he was the very opposite.
Unlike the Avengers, the soldat was not planning to play  nice and soon enough he managed to find a lead.
Which bring us to this very moment in which he successfully snuck into a Hydra agent's home to interrogate her.
But, in contrast of those Hydra troops that attack the Avengers Tower a few weeks ago, Elle was not even involved in the mission of retrieving Y/N. She was actually on a solo mission to infiltrate a certain high school to collect informations on Peter Parker. Hydra suspected that he might be involved with the new hero appearing in Queens.
However, even if she was not a part of the team mission, she knew bits and pieces of the overall plan, especially the whereabout of the main character herself, Y/N.
However, the appearance of the Winter Soldier in her temporary house was completely unexpected.
It felt like it was just few moments ago that the intel on Y/N's location reached her ears. Then, she distinctly remember the glimpse of those murderous eyes glaring into her soul. Next thing she knew was everything went pitch black.
Even if it was temporary, however it felt so surreal.
The darkness surrounding her.
The bone rattling cold.
It felt like death itself.
But unfortunately for her, the soldat was far from stopping.
Elle was fraying at the edges while the soldat crouch to her level. Even if she could barely reconstruct the unclear and blurry images through her dazed eyes, however, that didn't stop the soldat from maiming the dying woman's soul through his unforgiving gaze.
"Wake up..." he growled as he yanked her face upwards, "...we're not done yet."
It took a while for Elle to finally adjust to the light, after being in the dark for – how she felt like – so long.
After the light hits her vision, the striking pain came next. The pulsing pain surrounding of her right eye, her broken nose, her busted lips, her bleeding skin; neck, chest, arms, and almost every part of her limbs.
Everything were – slowly but surely, in each cuts and bruises on her skin – blooming its pain into existence.
How can she skipped all of this when she lost her consciousness?
Perhaps that was how she managed to stay alive as long as she had. By running away from the misery; from her reality.
Elle whined in pain but her voice suggested that she might already torn her throat apart when it sounded more like a broken grunt. Her disoriented gaze fell into her aching fingers, each were missing its nail; the tips of them was where the icky blood trickled from and had shaped a pool of blood on the floor where she rested.
The dim lighting from the room reflected on the surface of the deep-red puddle, revealing the resemblance of it to a mirror. And the blurry image looking back, was the soldat, with a sinister expression on his face.
This game, that they're playing.
It hardly seems fair to one of them. To be tortured if not speaking the truth? That's simply unjust; but if we're talking about fairness, then none of those injuries could ever be compared to the pain Y/N might be going through at this very moment. Every second of Elle's useless stubbornness was costing Y/N's safety.
And the soldat didn't like that. Not one bit.
"You mentioned Spain? Where exactly?" In one swift, harsh motion, the soldat thrust his knife through her thighs, "FUCK!"
The loud scream of pain that tore from Elle's throat was probably the last coherent word that she uttered as the torture continued.
The soldat pulled the knife out and stabbing it into the open wound, he listened to Elle's gasp for a moment, relishing her breathless pleading and the tears now openly streaming down her face.
He stabbed again, twice, each was quick and deep, not caring about the blood that spurted out across his face.
At this point Elle was just a puddle of blabbering mess; streams of saliva pouring out her mouth, sobbing, gasping for air; mixture of grunts, moans and whispers of curses and pleas were all spouted incoherently.
Anger.
Frustration.
Rage.
Wrath.
Even hatred.
The soldat was feeling it all.
It was consuming him, devouring any sanity that was left of Bucky's moral values. The eerie glint in the soldat eyes suggested that he was not planning to stop until she gave him what he wants.
God, if it wasn't for chilling atmosphere around her, Elle might just mistook that she was actually in hell.
"Pyrenees!" She cried out. The soldat instantly stopped when she confessed. He waited for an answer and right on cue, she spoke again, breathless and almost silent as the fear that engulfed her prior refused to release her from its haunting grip. And truthfully she doubt that it will ever let her go, "T-there a secret base n-near the Irati forest."
She exhaled a shaky breath as she pleaded, "S-so please. Please stop this." The was tired of the pain and the numbness that came after. And the soldat knows it.
The room was left silent momentarily, as if he was actually considering her plea but alas he already had plans for her all along, "Shame. You should've killed yourself before I came here."
As he finished the last word, the soldat viciously plunged his knife deep into her neck, digging the sharpness of it through the delicate flesh until it reach the base of the blade.
Elle gasped in response, her hands scrabbling around in effort to break free, to stop all of this. But considering the situation she was in, there was nothing she could do about it other than to take it as it was given to her.
When the motion finally stopped, the soldat simply walked away from the scene as if it was a complete norm for him to behave as he was. He didn't even thought of cleaning the mess he left behind. Or hide the corpse somewhere.
Isn't he afraid that he might leave his tracks for the police to find?
Why would he?
This has been his life for decades on end. His sole purpose of living was to kill. So best believe that the authorities will never be able to link the soldat or Bucky to this crime.
Not today, not ever.
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Through the days that Y/N was locked deep within Hydra's base, she hadn't been treated the worst. In fact, the sick and twisted agents and residents in the facility was more than willing to care for her.
This was all because they wanted her baby.
It was always sickening to hear them referring her child as merely a tool for their success. And the way they worship Y/N like she was a gift from God to fulfill their purpose, was beyond insanity.
"Oh, to have the privilage of bearing the offspring of the Winter Soldier. To be able to create the perfect weapon, unlike the father. It is just honorable."
It made her stomach churned with pure disgust whenever she heard those types of comments floating around her.
Besides the eerily digusting behaviour of the agents, there was also the regular check-ups and the lab tests that she needed to attend. Out of all the things she had to endure these past few weeks, the medical check-up has always dreaded her the most.
There was this constant debate within her troubled mind; of the possibility of Hydra manipulating her baby's health and genes by inserting unknown substance into her.
"Come on, mama. On the bed." The doctor said as he patted his rubber gloved hand on the surface of the rigid single bed.
She always found it vile that the people here calling her by that nickname. It tickled her throat in a way that she wanted to puke all the tasteless gunk that they had fed her with.
As she laid on the bed and let the process went on as it usually do, the doctor suddenly stopped everything that he was doing. At first she was weirded out by the irregular act of the man, but when she felt the vibration on the ground and the rushing footsteps from the floor above her, she knew exactly why the doctor suddenly froze on his spot.
And the emergency siren that shortly blared after, had only confirmed her speculation.
But mostly, it was the panic in the doctor's eyes that gave him away; then when Y/N noticed the man scrambled to search the drawers from one of the cabinet, she knew that he was up to no good.
The second that the doctor's hurried his steps towards her with a syringe in his hand, Y/N's body immediately recoiled. She quickly stopped him by grabbing his wrist and twisted it back until the syringe dropped from his hold.
The man cursed under his breath and decided to take her by force when he grabbed a handful of her hair, almost dragging her out of the bed. Y/N shrieked painfully while her hands blindly grabbing the silver tray by the bed next to her.
She then slammed it hard against his head, and watched the contents on the tray fell and scatter onto her. She took quick skim over all the tools and saw a potential weapon for her defence; a scissor.
"Stay still, mama. Or the baby will get hurt." The doctor foolishly threatened.
Maybe it was her defence mechanism or maybe it was just her motherly instinct kicking in but something just snapped inside of her when he said those words. There was this incredibly strong urge to either fight or take flight.
Of course she could easily slipped away and make a run for it but she just couldn't risk it. Especially when her baby's life was currently at stake. So, after a short moment of hesitation, she swiftly grabbed the scissors and surge it through his ribs. The man wailed in pain as he staggered off the bed and fell onto the floor.
You'd thought a single yet firm stab through the guts was enough to quench Y/N's need of fighting back but no. Apparently, the haywire of her nerves had drove her feral and she needed him to be soulless by the time she walk out the room.
That had forced her to nearly jumped on him like a predator pinning on a meek prey and the lack of struggling on the victim's side had only gave her full control to dominate him.
Then all of the sudden, the doctor felt another strike of the pain, digging into the flesh of his chest.
He woefully cried in extreme pain while Y/N did not utter a single word or let out any sound, she stayed silent as she thrusts the scissor in and out his flesh.
Each surge was vicious than the previous. Each stab was gradually speeding up as the motion increases it's number of repetition.
She completely let her emotions took over her sanity.
Until what's left in the room was only the sloshing and splashing sound of blood seeping through every thrust, as she continued to violate the body of the corpse.
Until the calm puddle of blood on floor rippled as the tears that broke from her eyes dropped on it's surface.
And when she realized that the doctor was long dead, that broke Y/N out from her feral state. Realizing what she had done; she shakily loosen her grip on the scissors and scrambled off from the lifeless body.
Her breath was near erratic; it was a chaos of unsteady rhythm as her words was lost at the tip of her tongue. She jolted in shock when the commotion in the facility got louder than before, reminding her that Bucky was there to save her.
Y/N felt a sob choking in her throat as her hands searched her stomach to coax the child in her womb, "It's okay sweet bean, daddy's here for us."
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Have you ever heard how ear-ringingly loud it is when it's hailing? How the sounds of the frozen raindrops hitting – the top of your car or the roof of the shades of an outdoor café table – can completely mute your words for anyone to hear?
That has nothing compared to the thundering sounds that echoed throughout the whole facility. The shots were fired from multiple range of stolen guns, all were coming from one moving figure.
The once clean grey and white painted walls of the hallways, were now stained and splattered with the color of crimson. The usually empty hallways, were occupied by the dead bodies of fallen Hydra agents. And the distinct scent of well-kept lair, were effortlessly replaced by the unpleasant and pungent smell; a mixture of blood and sweat.
It was a clear trail of the Winter Soldier's deeds.
This place was supposed to be pristine, but now feels more like how it should be; hell.
While the enemies were roaring into their death, the soldat on the other hand was very much the opposite.
Unlike his foe, it took him very little work from the tips of his tongue and much more on the tips of his gun. When the enemies barked like a dog, the soldat pounced like a wolf; silent and resilient.
By nature, the soldat had never been a patient man, especially when it comes to people harming his darling.
Sure, maybe he can tolerate and play along with people who messed with him, but if one were to touch even a strand of hair of his beloved, then they practically reserving themselves a first class ticket of a one-way trip to hell.
And that unhinged tendencies of his only worsen when wrath was the one reigning his mind while hatred was its ruler. His mind was nothing but a chaos of rampage and vengeance. Seeking nothing but blood and death of his foolish foe.
At this point of time, with the amount of life he had taken from the moment he step foot into the gate of the base, to the very stairs he was currently climbing, one could probably matched his heart rate with the rhythm of the shots formed by the bullets he shot.
Magazine upon magazine he reloaded his gun and waste no less than zero bullet as every shot made was accurately deadly and terrifying fatal to his prey.
As the soldat's feet reached half way up the stairs, a Hydra agent's voice spoke from the lower level, "She's on the LG2, we need a team to come and collect her as soon as poss--" A bullet went straight through the top of his head before he could finish his sentence.
And that was the soldat's last ammo.
While he mentally took note on the intel, his feet was quick to jumped into action and made his way down to LG2. As he entered the hallway, his wild eyes wondered around to steal another gun from a dead man's body.
But he rose into a stand, he felt a tip of a cold steel nudged at the back of his head.
Some would call out the soldat's mistake for letting his guard down in the middle of a battle, but another would definitely ridicule the stupidity of that fool's guts for even thinking that the soldat couldn't counter-attack his weak threats.
However, none of the two man managed to made any move towards each other when there was a faster, more accurate trigger was pulled from someone else, from across the hallway.
And that action left an aftermath of the fool's body to drop flat on the floor, quickly finding it's perfect spot with between the other pile of corpses scattered around.
When the soldat turned around, the sharp of his gaze softened almost immediately.
There she was standing there, in the pastel blue of her 'prison' attire. Her hair was a bit messy even if it was tied, and her complexion looked slightly pale with fatigue but to the soldat, she was glowing like angel; despite the blood on her clothes or the gun in her hand.
She was right there.
His heart.
His love.
His darling.
Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying for days. Her pouty lips trembled when the soldat stepped closer and closer towards her, tears threatening to fall as if she haven't done that during all the weeks that she had been here.
The soldat's steps grew faster.
So does Y/N's.
Tap taping until they were almost running towards each other.
Until the moment they reunited in the middle.
Catching each other's lips in a desperate and insatiable kiss, the soldat pulled her body tight around the waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Both whimpered in a yearning moan, both still had their guns hanging on one of their hands.
So many feelings at once, relief and grief, with each of them had a different story to tell.
The couple kept breaking and mending the kiss ever-so-passionately as if they weren't in the middle of the grave-less cemetery; as if they weren't in the center of the piling corpses.
Briefly opening his eyes, the soldat could see a shadow running towards them. When Y/N heard the footsteps from her back, she knew they need to pull away, but the soldat was firm and stubborn with his hold.
So instead of letting her break the kiss, he groaned in disapproval and pulled her lips back to his. An angry growl vibrated against her lips as he continued to explore her wet and warm mouth.
Caught off-guard she melted to his silent demand, almost forgot that the enemy was right behind her. But, she should've know better when the soldat loosen one of his arms from the embrace and pointed his gun towards the target.
His finger pulled the trigger almost as easily as his teeth tugging into the bottom of her lips. And suddenly the sound of a body collapsing behind didn't matter anymore.
When the soldat felt that he had enough of the sweetness of her kiss, he finally pulled away, at least for now. He whispered dearly, "Родная (darling)..." he cupped her face in his large hands and rested his forehead on hers.
She thought she heard it wrong, but did he just called her darling? It took her a few second to piece it together and realized that this man was not Bucky, that he had relapsed into the Winter Soldier again, "Soldat?"
The soldat smiled and leaned forward to steal a chaste kiss on her lips, "Yes, it's me, мое Родная (my darling)" he cooed as he swept her by her feet, off the bloody ground and carried her in his arm, "I got you, Куколка (little one). You can rest now."
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"We're just wanted make sure she's alright."
"You can follow us if you want so just please--"
"Soldat! You're going to hurt her."
The familiar voices leaked through Y/N's ears as she was drifting through her dreamless slumber. Soon enough, the loud commotion of her surrounding woke her up from the deep sleep.
The words that the Avengers were yelling out became clearer as she gained her consciousness, and the ever-changing movements of the soldat, evading every step the Avengers made to get closer to him, made her aware of the way she was resting in his arms; perfectly cocooned in a form of a bridal carry style.
The soldat halted on his spot when Y/N opened her eyes to see what was going on, "Soldat?" She blinked multiple times as she adjusted to the lights. The menacing frown of the soldat melted into a much softer expression, "Родная(darling), you shouldn't be awake yet." He craddled her closer to him as he cooed.
Where is she? How long was she out? When did she changed her clothes?
"What is happening?" She asked as she peered over his shoulder to see Natasha sighing in relief, "Sweetheart, thank god you're awake."
Y/N then looked over to Steve, "You've been gone for weeks, y/n. We got news about your rescue yesterday, and you guys just arrived home. Now, if we could just to take you to the medbay and get you check-up, that'll be great." He briefly explained.
"Yeah, that's all we want isn't it? But, someone just had to be sappy and refuse to let anyone touch you. You know, how it is with the soldier." Tony quickly intercepted.
The soldat didn't pay them any attention now that his darling was awake. He was merely focusing on whispering the sweetest things as he traces delicate trails of kisses on her forehead, her nose, her cheek, basically all over her face.
Sam took it as opportunity to get closer when the soldat was distracted on suffocating Y/N with kisses. But he should learn by now how alert and agile the soldat can be, especially when he have Y/N close to his proximity.
So, when Sam took a step closer, the soldat recoiled almost immediately, putting quite of a distance between them.
"Man, if Bucky has a staring problem, then the winter soldier over here has a hogging problem." Sam accusingly pointed at the soldat, only getting grunts as a reply.
Looking at the current situation, Y/N pondered for awhile. As much as she wanted to get herself check-up, it was also wise to not pressure the soldat to give her away.
Considering what she witnessed at the Hydra base, Y/N knew the risk that comes when we let the soldat dwell in anger for too long.
So she consulted the rest of the team to back down for now, and let the soldat do what he wants. Y/N promised them that she will conviced the soldat to let her get a check-up as soon as possible. But for now, they really need to trust her words.
At first every one of them was reluctant to let her go but in the end they agreed to her suggestion.
When the team spread out and gave some space for the soldat, he didn't waste any time and marched straight to where their bedroom supposed to be. As soon as they arrived at their safe space, the soldat almost threw Y/N onto the bed and swiftly drew a knife from the holster of his thigh as his predatory eyes searched the room.
He refused to move even an inch away from where he stood and remained close to Y/N; shielding her figure with his own.
It was very faint, but the soldat could sensed that they weren't the only ones in the room.
Y/N eyed him curiously, wondering why the soldat was still on edge when he wasn't supposed to. So, she hopped off from the bed and stood on her feet before reaching out to hug the soldat from behind.
"You can put the knife down, soldat. It's just us here." She coaxed but the soldat refused to believe her. He pulled her by the arms, breaking her hug in the process and hold her close to his chest, "There's someone else here."
His actions was rather rougher than he intended it to be; even Y/N was startled by the sudden movement, "Oooff, careful there, soldat. You might give the little one a fright." She chuckled softly as she give her belly a loving rub.
And suddenly his attention was completely focused on Y/N now. Usually his frown symbolized irritation, but this time there was a clear confusion in his eyes. The amount of appalled blinking of his eyes increases when the puzzle pieces in his head started to merge.
The soldat knew that he heard a third heartbeat in the room; that was why he was on alert for threats but apparently he had been closer to the source than he thought was.
In fact, it was right his arms. Or maybe a little bit lower, somewhere around his torso.
Y/N didn't say anything, she simply nodded and smiled up to him as she continued to rub her belly.
When the conclusion finally hits him, the soldat dropped the knife in his hand at the same time he fell on his knees. His gaze never broke from hers, not even a split second, until he was face to face with her tummy.
The soldat leaned one side of his ear closer to her and the thumping sound of the third heartbeat got louder. The discovery had caused him to jolt away as shock decorated his features. He titled his head upwards to Y/N with the same wide, confused look in his blue eyes.
"It's okay, love." She giggled amusingly when the soldat repeated his previous actions. He leaned in and jolted back again as if he couldn't believe what he just heard was real, "Is it... his?" The soldat asked as he implied his existance to be separated from Bucky.
There was a hint of sadness in Y/N's expression when he said it like that. There's been many long conversations that she and Bucky had about the soldat after his first relapse.
Though Bucky was still unsure of his own dissociating self, Y/N on other hand believed that the soldat, this particular man whose drenched the earth with blood just to save her, the same man whose currently on his knees to hear a heartbeat of an unborn child; he deserved a little kindness in his life.
"Yes..." Y/N answered truthfully before she continued, "...and he's yours too."
And that surely knocked the air out of the soldat's lungs, he couldn't tell if she was telling him the truth or was just trying to kill him; either way the butterflies in his chest was suffocating him from the inside.
The soldat couldn't speak a single word; because he didn't know what to say. But there was this beam on his features, light in his eyes, softness on his smile when he dreamily stared at her growing belly.
Y/N took him by his flesh hand and place his palm on her stomach, then she spoke tenderly to the baby inside her, "Wanna say hi to daddy, sweet bean? Say, 'Welcome home, daddy.' "
She knew it was silly, because obviously the child in her womb shouldn't be able to speak, and he was not yet developed enough to be kicking his feet. Hell, they don't even know his gender yet.
But how could she not say it when the soldat looked so damn happy when she did. He looked so peaceful and has this daze and some of those twinkling hearts in those steel-blue eyes of. The soldat sighed in pure joy before he leaned to kiss her stomach.
And as it turns out that was all she needed to do to persuade the soldat to letting her see the doctors. He was there through the whole process, refusing to let go of her hand. It was such a good news to hear that the baby was healthy and there wasn't any foreign substance that might contaminated her during her times in Hydra.
After getting proper medical care and some food in her system, the soldat immediately carry her back to their room to settle down. While she laid on the bed, making up for the lost time to finally get the mental rest she desperately needed, the soldat on the other hand, had made himself comfortable by lying his head on her stomach.
He just couldn't stop; as if he was hypnotised by the melody of the baby's heartbeat. His hand snuck under her shirt, lifting the fabric up to reveal the belly where their miracle resides.
Y/N's droopy eyes followed his actions as she watched how carefully the soldat approached her. Out of habit, her hands absentmindedly rake through the softness of his hair as she held him by the head.
The soldat dotingly caressed the child's sleeping chambers as he leaned closer to it, "...Hi there, little one." he greeted with a quiet and loving whisper.
Immediately, a smile beamed brightly on Y/N's face when the soldat proceed to pamper her belly with countless of tender kisses, "...it's daddy." he introduced himself, as if the baby was able to understand him.
The silence that came after was so sweet and comfortable. And Y/N knew she wouldn't be able to have this without the soldat. She tucked a piece of his loose strand of hair behind his ear when she spoke gently, "Thank you for saving me, soldat."
He briefly lifted his head and smiled up at her, "You know I can't live without you Родная (darling). I will always need you." He declared a truthful confession before turning his attention away. His lips grazed on the skin of her belly as he mumbled against it, "And you too, little one."
Y/N could burst into tears just from this interaction alone but she try not to. She doesn't want to look back at this moment and remember how much she wept, so she blinked her tears away while she watched the soldat spoiled the little buddle of joy inside her with so much endearments.
Even though it was always a happy memory for the soldat when he spend time with his darling, but this... this was rare. And he wanted to cherish it for as long as he could.
The soldat laid on his ears again when he peered from where he had his head rested, his deep gaze captured her attention, "Has he been taking care of you good, darling?" He asked.
The soldat probably had no idea how Bucky adored her; if anyone paid enough attention they might even caught him worshipping the very ground she stepped on.
A breathy chuckle escaped from her mouth as nodded with a drunken grin, "He's the best." She hummed approvingly, "Best husband, and best daddy too." She exclaimed brightly as she glanced at the ring on her finger; it was barely visible through the thick of the soldat's hair.
Surprisingly, the soldat didn't react negatively to her remarks, instead, a proud smile curved on his lips as the pride in his chest overflowed and leaked all through his very being, "Good." He simply said.
The smile lines on the corner of his eyes didn't flatten even when he closed his eyes. For a moment, he tried to silenced everything else around him and focused on the fluttering sounds of the baby's tiny heart.
It might have been the thick haze of lavender smoke in their head or the swarming butterflies in their chest, that they didn't even notice the fatigue that had been slowly taking over them, until the tenderness of their caresses were barely moving.
When the heaviness of her eyes weighted the lids, she sleepily asked the soldat, "Will you still be here when I wake up?" Truth to be told, she was afraid that all of this was just a dream; an escape from reality of the cruel captivity.
The soldat briefly opened his own tired eyes and cooed softly, "I'm always with you, Родная (darling)." And Y/N took it as a promise for her desprete soul to cling on; a ray of hope for her to hold onto, if she ever wakes up in that cell again.
Not long after, both of them lost to the lure of somnolent and their soul quickly drifted into the peaceful dreamland. Soft snores were filling the quiet of the room as their mortal body continued to entangled themselves with each other.
It was safe to say that if Steve would ever barge into the room, he'd probably maxed the storage of his phone with photos of the soldat smushing his face on Y/N's belly as she perfectly curled around him.
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Maybe it was the sunlight leaking through the window or maybe it was the intense gaze she felt burning on the skin of her face. Eitherway, it certainly disturbed her from her sleep.
When her body stirred, Y/N realized that she didn't need to open her eyes to know that last night was not a dream, especially when she can feel a pair of familiar arms wrapping around her waist under her shirt.
Y/N slowly peeled her eyes open to see a recognizable ceiling. Her eyes then trailed to her side and met a pair of blue of eyes staring back at her. Her gaze searched for the soul within him and found the semblance of Bucky reflected in his eyes.
Still dazed from sleep, she continued to watch him blinking at her, slowly and silently, like a cat declaring their love to their human. But even then, he couldn't hide the afterglow of the tears on his face.
"Bucky, honey. Have you been crying?" Her voice rasped from lack of use, yet her tender fingers find themselves crawling across his wet cheeks. 
It was as if her voice was a trigger, and tears quickly reformed in Bucky's eyes again. Y/N gently pulled him to her chest, one hand threading his hair and another rubbing his back as he sobbed in her arms, "It's okay, Bucky. We're okay." She continued to coax him lovingly.
They spend most of the early morning holding each other close and dear. Then when the tears started to lessen, Bucky finally pulled himself away from her. Y/N wiped the excess tears on his cheeks but he caught her hand underneath his; he relished in the relief of her presence when he sighed to her touch.
Bucky's gaze wobbled in the pool of tears in his eyes but he was still determined to speak his mind  "I'm so sorry, doll." He apologized, "I couldn't stop them. Even with this damned serum in me, I still couldn't protect you; both of you." If his defeated voice didn't convey his truth, then the tremble of his touch should be enough.
And Y/N's heart simply shattered for him; what did he meant by that? He did save her though. The winter soldier or Bucky. It didn't matter who but she was here now because of him. She was safe; they both were, "But you saved me, did you not?"
"But, I didn't. The sol--" Before Bucky could even finish his sentence, Y/N quickly cuts in, "The soldat is always going to be a part of you, Bucky. And if he saved me, that means you saved me too." She reassured him.
Seeing the hesitation in his eyes, she continued to persuade him, "And if I could speak for our child, which I absolutely can because I'm his mother, then he would say that he is proud that his strong daddy managed to beat the absolute shit out of those bad guys."
Bucky blurted out a hearty laugh, "I don't think it's good to teach our baby to curse when he is still in your womb, mama." His laugh gradually reduced to a chuckle when he wiped the remaining tears from his eyes.
Y/N simply shrugged to his suggestion, "It's not like he wouldn remember this anyway." She smirked playfully.
Another chuckle managed to slip through Bucky's lips before he lowered his face to her tummy, "And you? How's your play date with Winter, hmm sweet bean?" He mumbled as his lips planted on her skin.
Besides the heartbeat of his child, he could also hear the tiny twitching of the baby's limbs moving ever-so-slightly, "Yeah, I bet he spoiled you with lots of kisses and cuddles, huh? Like he did your mommy?" He continued to coo against her belly, unaware of the shock on his wife's face.
"Winter?" A small smile cracked from the corner of her lips. Yes, she was shocked but that doesn't mean she wasn't pleasantly surprised by it.
Bucky didn't even bother to look up at Y/N's face as he was busy blowing raspberries on her stomach, "If he's going to keep popping up in our lives then we might as well call him something else other than 'soldat', don't you think?" He simply said, marking one last kiss on the small growing bulge on her belly, before working his way back up to her face.
Y/N's heart swelled to his gesture and when he laid his head next to hers, she carefully took him by his cheeks, pulling him in for a gentle kiss, "I think he'd love that, Bucky." She whispered against his lips, feeling his smile in return.
Bucky nudges forward to catch her lips again; kissing her slow and sweet as if his whole world has been waiting for this moment. And when the kiss naturally broke, he tempted her with something he knew she couldn't resist, "Now, how about we grab you both something to bite, hmm?"
End.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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A/N: The use of the title in the fic is suprisingly wholesome despite the insinuation of it, don't you think? Lol. Btw, thank you so much for stopping by and read my work. Leave your thoughts behind for me, I'd love to hear from you!
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
Author's Note: I had a comment left on my post HERE. The person who commented brought up this scenario of Simon being dared to kiss you and you think that he won't, but he actually does and sparks end up flying. So, of course, I had to write it because... I mean... Come on... (lol). And here it is.
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader, Soap
Summary: During a game of Truth or Dare, your lieutenant is dared into giving you a kiss, but something about the way he has been acting lately may mean this is going to be more than a quick ordeal. And the way you have been feeling towards him won't be helping.
Word Count: 4k
Part 2: READ HERE
The night has started innocently enough: you and your fellow officers sit around together in the rec, blowing off a little steam after another successful mission. Some nice, simple fun of playing cards and shooting the shit like you usually do when leaving the base to go down to the bar isn’t an option. Everyone happens to be here tonight, including that brooding, mask-faced lieutenant that you can’t seem to keep your mind from drifting to as he stands against the wall behind you. 
Maybe it’s just your imagination, but you’ve noticed that the lieutenant’s presence has become more and more common lately, especially when you’re around. He keeps mostly to himself, staying on the edge of the fun by just watching, yet you swear that if you are stealthy enough from out of the corner of your eye you can catch his gaze lingering in your direction. 
Whether it’s just a trick of your mind or the truth, either way it makes your pulse race. And tonight is no exception.
All has been pretty calm so far, nothing too rowdy or out of hand. At least, it was until now as the night has waned on and inhibitions have fallen. What was once an innocent bit of fun has turned a bit more risque as Soap decides that cards aren’t enough to keep everyone entertained. What game is it he always seems to pick when everyone is more loose? One where the consequences always end up interesting: Truth or Dare.  
Several rounds have passed already where the truths have consistently gotten more honest and the dares even more spicy. No one is ready to call it quits just yet, but there is one person that hasn’t had a turn after all this time and that just won’t do, not if the Scottish sergeant has anything to say about it. Taking matters into his own hands, Soap turns his attention to the big man standing with his arms crossed, watching quietly. 
“Oy, Lt. Come on, you’re already ‘ere. Ya gotta join us,” Johnny says through the raucous laughter to drag the silent lieutenant into the merriment. “Or are ya chicken, hmm?”
As much as you want Lt. Riley to join in, you would rather him stick around and something like this could get him to walk out; you don’t want that to happen. “Fucking can it, Johnny,” you say as you strike him in the bicep with your fist. “You’re talking out of your ass, alright? Knock it off.”
To everyone’s surprise and yours, after a momentary pause, Lt. Riley steps up closer to the table with his arms still crossed. “ ‘s fine,” he dismisses your concern. “But, one round is all you’re gonna fuckin’ get from me, sergeant, so better make it count.”
Johnny nods his head in agreement, actually caught off guard that he is even able to get this far with the ever stoic and cold-shouldered officer. It all seems a bit too easy, but Soap isn’t going to pass up an opportunity like this to get the lieutenant involved. He’s gotta make this good whatever it is that gets chosen and so he pauses a minute to think of an idea for either scenario before speaking up. “Alright Lt, ye know how it goes. Truth or dare?”
Truth is never going to be an option for Lt. Riley, not with the level of secrecy he keeps to at all times when it concerns his life; he knows if he gives Johnny an inch he will take a goddamn mile. So, there is only one other option and though he tries to hide the fidgeting in his hands, he picks it.  
Maybe it’ll be something that’ll help him strike up a conversation with you later. “Dare,” he says. 
The grin that lights up Soap’s face instantly lets the entire table know that he is up to no good and the words that follow are a testament to that fact. You thought you knew Johnny well enough by now, but not even you could have been prepared for what came out of his mouth then. “Alright, I dare ye ta kiss our sassy little sergeant right here,” he says as he looks at you with an unwavering gaze. 
You meet his blue eyes and hold them in stunned silence. Is he fucking serious? As if Lt. Riley would ever go for something so fucking dumb as this. Johnny has to be out of his goddamn mind to put you in this position; it’s like he knows something he shouldn’t. Again your immediate reaction is to sock him in the arm, this time a bit harder to drive home the point that you are done with his bullshit. 
And yet… shockingly… you hear the lieutenant speak up.
“Fine,” Lt. Riley agrees to everyone’s amazement. 
You turn your attention to face him. “Are you sure? Johnny’s just being a dick, you don’t have to listen to him, sir,” you reassure as you shoot a glare that has the Soap nervously shifting in his seat, worrying about what is going to happen to him later for pulling such a ridiculous stunt.
“Said it’s fine,” he repeats, his gruff tone metered. “But I ain’t doin’ it ‘ere though; you’re not gettin’ a free fuckin’ show if that’s what you’re after Mactavish.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll give ya that,” Johnny concedes. Those blue eyes scan the room for a solution. “How about ‘round tha corner there.”
He points to the bend in the wall a few feet away; far enough from the group that they won’t be able to tell what’s happening behind it. Since there are now stipulations that the lieutenant has set, Johnny is going to add his own as well for good measure. “However,” he pipes up, “since it ain’t in front a us here, ya gotta stay in place for 10 minutes. I doubt ye’ll actually do anything, but might as well make ye both have ta awkwardly stand there for a bit. And don’t think yer gonna pull a fast one; I’m gonna be countin’.”
You look back at the lieutenant and he gives a nod. “Fine,” you agree as well. How you are able to keep your voice so steady when you feel that jolt deep in the pit of your stomach is a mystery, but you pull it off just fine.
With the rules set Lt. Riley stares at you as if waiting for you to get up from your seat first before he moves. You do and he immediately follows close behind as you make your way over to the wall just past the corner amidst the sounds of whistles and whoops. With a quick flip of the bird back over your shoulder to the group, you both vanish around the side and come to a stop a few feet from the edge. 
You lean your back up against the wall as he comes to stand in front of you, watching you intensely through the opening in his thin balaclava. As you wait to see who will speak first, you notice a tension in his broad shoulders that hadn’t been there before. This is the first time you both have ever been this close to one another and you can’t overlook the fact that he seems even bigger now that you are standing so near; you can’t help but admire how small you feel next to him.  
The longer he stares at you with those golden eyes, studying your face as if he is deciding something, the more rapid your heartbeat thumps heavy in your chest. He takes a step closer and then another before coming to a stop again. Now there is less than a foot’s distance between your bodies and suddenly there is a shift in the atmosphere around you both, a thick tension that is growing harder to ignore. 
The sounds of laughter filters over to the both of you, breaking you out of the haze of your thoughts. “You know, we don’t have to do anything. If you want me to lie, it’s fine, sir,” you speak before he has a chance to. “Fuck Johnny for putting us in this situation. We can just stand here in silence until we get called back.”
He clears his throat. “Who said anythin’ ‘bout lyin’?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow that you can make out through the mask. “Just don’t wanna, is that it?” 
Something in the way he says the statement catches you off guard. Why does he sound slightly disappointed? Did he want to actually do this? You couldn’t really believe that; no, you must be reading this all wrong. “No, that’s not…” you stumble over your words; why is it getting harder to speak? “I just… didn’t think you’d want to… but… if you do then…”
“Yes or no?” he cuts off your string of stammering.
“Yes,” you confirm. 
Nothing else needs to be said other than that. His hand moves to his face, his fingers finding the bottom edge of his mask, and now you can’t breathe as you wait to see what’s under there. This is the first time you’ll be able to see more than just his eyes and that leaves your mind reeling.
Okay, you prepare yourself, it’s just a kiss, right? Nothing to it; you’ve been kissed before. This will be no different. Just breathe and we’ll get through it.
The mask is wrenched up above his nose so that his mouth is revealed and spread across waiting for you is a subtle, cocky smirk. Your cheeks flush as your eyes are drawn to the facial hair covering his jaw and outlining his lips; short, light brown outgrowth from not having shaved today. It accentuates his strong jaw perfectly and though you try, you can’t look away.
Still focused on his face you miss the warning as a strong hand suddenly finds its way onto your waist as he moves against you. His broad chest is pressed up to yours, you can feel it through the thinner fabric of his shirt, and you can’t tell whether it’s your own pounding heartbeat or his that you feel. That tension is suffocating now that he is this close, the air so thick it feels like you can cut it with a knife. You wait impatiently for the moment to finally break.  
It feels like you are holding your breath when after a few more seconds he finally speaks. “Good,” he says with a bit of breathiness to his voice, “cause I’m no liar.”
Leaning his head down slowly to reach you his lips inch ever closer until you can feel their warm, ghostly presence brush over your mouth causing your eyes to flutter shut as the ecstasy from the anticipation of them making contact overwhelms you. They are there, right there, and you plead with the universe to finally let them touch. You feel him inhale sharply and with that they are crashing against yours. It is with such an automatic, visceral intensity that it knocks the wind from your lungs.
Simon had been certain until the second your lips made contact that he could keep himself under control, that this was nothing more than sinless fun, but as he breathes in the hot, moist air from your mouth while he captures it again, he already knows that this is not going to end how he has intended. There is an immediate magnetism that you both cannot pull from and what is supposed to be something quick, turns mind-numbing in an instant.
Time stands still as your lips twine together in that familiar back and forth and what can only be a few short seconds extend out into an eternity. It’s like flicking on a switch how easily you melt into his embrace, like acquainted lovers, like your lips have always meant to be pressed tightly together. 
How can this be the first time you have ever kissed?
The stubble covering the exposed half of his face pricks along your cheeks the more he advances; the skin around your lips and your jaw growing more raw each time he moves, but the way it makes your face burn is far from painful. His breathing has become more strained, muscles tensing as he risks nipping carefully at the skin on your lower lip.
You inhale a sharp breath through your teeth and then it happens: an unconscious reaction to the pleasure surging through your veins like liquid fire. You can’t stop yourself as a sneaky moan creeps up your throat and before you can swallow it back down you hum it into his mouth. 
That low, alluring sound leaves that hulking military officer hungry to hear more. Those large hands of his desperately want to paw at your body, to caress all those silky curves against the coarse skin of his palms, to let his fingertips linger at all that delicately soft flesh for as long as he can. A deep, gnawing ache settles itself in his chest as he takes your lips with more feral aggression; Simon has never craved something more in that moment than to keep you like this entangled with him. 
The longer he goes, the more there is nothing tentative about his movements; he kisses you like he owns you. Lt. Riley steals from you as if your lips are air and he will suffocate without them, his desperation is the kind that feels like this is life or death and he needs you to survive. You are unprepared for the fucking bliss of it all, the raw, unbridled passion that his lips create as the friction abrades the tender skin of your mouth. 
And your thoughts scream for him to keep going.
You match his intensity with your own, kissing him back with everything that you have in you. He opens his mouth slightly and without thinking your tongue moves in and presses against his, trying to shove its way into his mouth. Fuck, he is not prepared for you to be so keen and it throws him off for only a moment before he leans into that passion and comes back with his response.
The lieutenant braces one of his large hands near your hip, pinning you to the wall while his mouth engulfs your own as he slides his tongue in between your teeth to fill the cavity full. It slithers over the surface of your tongue towards the back of your mouth, the taste of you intoxicating so that he cannot get enough. The pleasure is so intense that it severs his connection with reality and everything outside of your joined mouths fades away into background noise. His other hand moves from your waist and is suddenly wrapped around the back of your neck, his thumb holding steadily against your jaw to keep your head securely in his grip so that he can pull you as tight against his face as he can stand. 
Your head is reeling from the potency of those hot, feverish lips that are suck yours into their desperate embrace. Then his knee forcefully pries its way between your thighs and you are sure that you will not come back from this. It’s too much to handle and you’ve lost all control… no, that’s not right. You’ve yielded everything completely to him without even having to think about it and he has taken every single ounce of what he has been given as if it has always been his. 
Leaning up into him, you stand up on the balls of your feet as he guides the movement of your head by tilting it from one side to the other in that natural dance that happens when lips play. You are both insatiable as that carnal need to devour the other makes it impossible to not relinquish yourselves to the ecstasy that overwhelms in that moment. 
Never in your life have you wanted a man to possess you more than you want your superior to right now. Images of him picking you up and slamming your back into the wall, making you encircle his waist with your legs, his cock straining and throbbing between your clothed sex as you plead with him to take you, fill your mind until they make you light-headed. 
Lt. Riley is not faring any better and he has to focus his entire will into keeping his hands engaged so that he can resist the tingling in his fingertips to find the button on your pants and undo them. If you were alone without the threat of interruption, you might already be half undressed by now, but just as that urge reaches its peak and his fingers are moving in, you both hear the words that make your hearts sink.
“Eh, you two,” you hear Soap calling out from a distance, “times up.”
It is torture to pull away from you; Simon is on the verge of combusting from being forced to stop before he is ready.  But he has to or else he might be found out and there is still hesitation to admit that he might actually want more of this. Even after the ecstasy you both had just shared he isn’t sure how far he should let this go and so with a sigh of defeat he releases your lips from his own. 
By the time he lets you go and moves out from between your legs, your stance is unsteady and your mind fuzzy. The sudden lack of pressure against your mouth leaves you feeling empty and you have to stop yourself from whining aloud. As your eyes slowly flutter open you look up into his face and are met with that chocolate brown gaze lingering on you. There is something swimming in the depths of his eyes: a question, a statement, you’re not sure, but he doesn’t say it aloud. The need to say something yourself eats at you, but you close your mouth tight and bite your tongue to keep silent. 
You can’t bring yourself to risk admitting that you don’t want him to stop; what if he doesn’t feel the same? The pressures of putting it all out there at this moment is too much to handle. Instead, you let the moment die away quietly as you breathe deeply through your nose.
“Times up,” Lt. Riley repeats the phrase softly as he situates his balaclava back down under his chin to hide himself from you once again. The others are cheering for your return, giving you no time to collect yourself, so you simply sigh and stride back to the group together.
Heads turn your direction as you reappear back into the main room. “Well?” the heavily accented voice of the bastard that has orchestrated this whole thing questions you both. 
Trying not to stumble back to your seat, you play it off as if you hadn’t just had your soul sucked out through your lips. “Well what?” you return as the lieutenant passes you up and takes his place back behind the group.
Soap’s brow furrows. “Don’t play dumb with us, lass,” he chides. “Was he any good?”  
You cautiously take your seat back where you had been as everyone waits for your answer, trying to give yourself more time to calm your pulse that is still racing like wildfire through your tingling limbs. “It was fine,” you say, hoping you are collected enough to pull off such a bold-faced lie. 
“Oh really?” Johnny asks skeptically as he eyes you up and down to read your body language. Your heart leaps in your chest as you think you’ve been found out, that the bloom in your cheeks is still too noticeable, but he continues like nothing. “I think yer full a shit. Probably didn’t even get a peck, knowin’ LT. I bet ye did nothin’ back there, but stand in silence.”
You snicker at him, carefully adjusting yourself in your seat so you can squeeze your legs together to relieve the throbbing in such a way that it doesn’t draw attention. “Aww... Guess that’s only for us to know and for you to spend all your time worrying about, bitch. It’s gonna eat at you, isn’t it? Gonna lose sleep thinking about me and the lieutenant, hmm?” you pick back, which seems to get him off your case. 
“Ye wanna add anythin’ here?” Soap asks as he turns to the mask officer.
You risk a glance over your shoulder back at your superior, knowing that this could undo all your progress at regaining your composure, and you catch him completely lost in thought, not having heard a word that Soap just said. Quickly he recovers, clearing his throat. “What’re ya on about, Mactavish?” he questions back. 
“I asked if ye had anythin’ to add to her account of events,” Johnny chuckles. “Or are ye too stunned ta speak?”
The lieutenant shoots him a glare before pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Don’t push yer fuckin’ luck, yeah?” he answers it like a threat as he flips open the pack and places a cig in between his fingers.
Soap holds up his hands innocently with palms facing out in agreement not to start any trouble. “Ye must a been terrible, lass,” Soap picks as he turns his attention back to you to keep the jovial atmosphere up. 
You slug him hard enough to make his chair squeak from the force before joining in the others laughter to disguise the heat still burning through your cheeks. Simon takes the opportunity to slip out unnoticed, though you let your eyes follow him one last time. It is a monumental task that he has to perform to actively put one foot in front of the other, to calculatedly focus his breathing to stay calm, and make it out of the door without anyone noticing that his composure is clearly broken. 
Once out of sight he hurriedly steps out into the cool night air and immediately rips up his mask as he lights his cigarette, taking a long, heavy drag off it as he leans up against the brick of the building. The nicotine tingles his throat and he hopes it’ll be enough of a distraction to stop the intense pounding in his chest. Breathing the smoke out in a weighty sigh he adjusts the crotch of his pants as they have suddenly become too tight for his comfort. 
“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters under his breath as he leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, desperately trying to focus on anything in a vain attempt to calm himself, but he already knows its no use.
The second his eyes are shut all he can think about is that kiss: he can still feel his arm around you, detect the ghost of your lips against his, sense the warmth of your breath in his mouth. He tries to push the delectable sensations from his mind, but they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon and he knows it. 
Opening his eyes he stands back up off the wall with a need that compels him, making him move strategically so that he can peek through the door without being seen. Sneakily he stares back into the building, those brown eyes catching the sight of you smiling and laughing, those full lips making his blood pressure rise as he watches them move about as you speak, still red and swollen from being claimed. 
This is a problem, a big fucking problem. Now the only thing that that hardened military man can think about, instead of keeping his distance, is how he can recreate that exact scene with you again.
And maybe, just maybe, take it even further.
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plasticferal · 3 months
Note
can u plsss write a Matt smut where the reader is like obsessed with his teeth and then she kind of jokes ab licking his teeth but shes not actually joking and then u know the rest
take it or leave it | matt sturniolo.
authors note: this was so fun to write. here’s some kind of soft, lust filled bff!matt turned lovers.
warnings: fem reader, not obscene or 18+ but read at your own discretion. a lot of dialogue, light biting, mark leaving, explicit language.
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you just can't stop staring at your best friend. all he's doing is chewing on a paper straw, swirling it around his soft drink. his eyes are glued to his screen, scrolling through his phone, both of his elbows planted on the dining table.
"i can feel you staring," matt talks with the straw still in his mouth, flashing his perfect teeth with a conceited smirk. you scoff, digging your fork back into the dessert that sits in front of you, to avoid the interrogation you feel coming your way.
"i didn't say stop," you feel his eyes burn holes into you, tone earnest and deep, just waiting for you to glance up at him again.
"wasn't even staring," you speak through a muffled mouthful of cake, not caring if he sees the food in your mouth. he's the closest person in your life, he's probably seen worse.
"real sexy, kid" he teases, staring at your mouth and chuckling as you cover it to swallow your food, flipping him off from across the table.
"no for real, what were you looking at? like be specific," he asks, placing his phone screen down on the table, shuffling in his chair and adjusting his posture. you raise an eyebrow at him, wondering what the hell he's on about.
"i can't just admire my best friend?" you sarcastically smile and bat your eyelashes at him, resting your chin into the palm of your hands.
"specifics, go." matt isn't having it, and you drop the act fast.
you ponder on your answer for a moment, or at least pretend to. you know exactly what you want to say but you don't need him getting a big head. well, bigger. he's a walking, talking, humble brag. especially around you.
"ah, okaaaay," you pout your lips with contemplation.
"your eyes i guess. they're pretty. you know that, though" you shrug, prodding at your dessert again, not having any intention on finishing it at this point. matt has you cornered with his new train of thought.
"boring, next." he deadpans, throwing his head back with an eye roll before looking at you again. he folds his arms over his chest, leaning back leisurely.
"fine. ah, your teeth. i'm like obsessed with them. is that a better answer?" you quip, grabbing your plate and pushing away from the table to make your way to the sink.
you hear matt behind you let out an audible "huh?" and can picture the confusion on his face. you don't know what it is about his teeth, or his smile in general. you just get stunned at how perfect they are, the way they just suit his face so much.
they just look like they could form the perfect bite in your skin. he's always chewing a new flavoured gum, flashing them subtly past his perfectly pink lips, and his breath always smells nice. it's weirdly inviting. all thoughts you absolutely shouldn't be having about matthew.
"hang on, rewind. my teeth?" there's an amused underlining to his response, and you just wish you could take back what you said, joke or not.
you rinse the plate off and immediately ignore him, drying your hands with paper towel before bee-lining for the bin in the small dark corner of the room.
"you got your answer, matthew. get over it," you exhale, tossing it into the black rubbish bag.
"no no, i'm not done with you yet," you hear his chair make a disturbing scratchy squeak against the vinyl floors with how fast he pushes his chair back, following where your body is moving.
you walk around the dining table in the opposite direction of him, but he changes directions to match yours. you collapse onto the couch, sitting cross legged and he falls into the spot right next to you, despite having the entire couch. your shoulders are touching and his knee his touching yours.
"you were staring at my teeth and now i need to know why," matt requests, leaning one elbow up on the back of the couch, facing you completely.
"i can't answer tha-"
"y/n" he cuts you off seriously.
"i don't know, okay? drop it, matthew." you push back with frustration, not understanding why he can't. it's either he's pushing your buttons on purpose or he can sense the subject easily taking a turn in a different direction.
"i'm not trying to piss you off. i just wanted know. sorry" his voice softens, and he shifts so he's facing the t.v.
you almost feel bad snapping at him, considering you instigated his reaction in the first place by not justifying it straight away.
you bite your nails, trying to avoid talking. it's so hard with matt. he just always brings it out of you. looking at him while he watches the screen ahead of you just makes you yearn to hear his voice again. he's so quiet for the most part that when you get him out of his shell you don't ever want him to stop.
"i've always liked your teeth. i don't know what it is. i wish i could explain it but i can't," you speak shyly, a very rare feeling around him.
you have literally shared every waking thought with this man. it just feels so different when it involves him personally. on a physical descriptive level. matt leans his head back on the massive couch cushion, giving you a lazy half grin, looking up at you through hooded eyes.
"do you just like staring at them or do you wanna like, touch them?" he flashes his teeth like a vampire, and you push his face away with a laugh, knowing he's teasing with good intention. he chuckles, pushing your own hand back into your body.
"you're never gonna let me live this down, are you?"
"not until i can wrap my head around it, no" he folds his arms over his chest, tucking his hands into his armpits and they disappear under his oversized hoodie, snickering at his own defence.
he looks you in the eyes, the same fiery stare he gives you when he's about to say something out of pocket, you can read him like a book.
"you wanna touch 'em?"
"matt," you scold, knowing whatever he has planned is just to keep this joke lingering. or what you think is a joke to him.
"i'm serious, let's see if we can get to the bottom of this little fetish of yours" he's so pleased with his words, grinning like an idiot as he nestles his face closer to yours.
"i'd get more pleasure out of it with my tongue," you chortle, then pause suddenly, not believing what you just said out loud.
you force your face to plaster a look on it that says 'i'm joking' but there's no part of what you just said that matt is taking comically.
"go on." matt replies.
"what's gotten into you, tonight?" you have a half simper half befuddled look as you lean back to make sure you're seeing him right.
making sure you're speaking to matt, not someone posing as him with how bold and absurd he's been acting for the past few minutes. he's always being flirtatious, in a bantering and unalloyed manner. this felt different, he's being a lot more direct. a lot less blithe.
"i am literally giving you one chance to do this and then i'm never bringing it up again. take it or leave it, y/n"
"open your mouth, then.” you say in a ‘i bet you won’t’ tone, not believing he actually will. you’re taken aback when he tilts his head up lightly, an innocent look on his face when he parts his mouth, creating a perfect oval.
“you’re seriously okay with this?” you ask, beginning to lean forward, tempting and just waiting for the moment he pulls away, or snaps his mouth closed. he nods, mouth still open.
you know him well enough by now to understand that when matt says he’ll never mention it again, he means it. he’s petty like that.
“fuck it, m’god” you mumble, cupping the side of his jaw, fingertips resting under his ear and being tickled by his hair, pulling him to you.
your breaths intertwine as you hover over his mouth, your lips don’t touch when you poke your tongue out and let it slide behind his top teeth and trail across the sharp edge, slowly, left to right. when you pull away, you observe him.
matt closes his mouth, sucking his teeth and plastering a thoughtful look on his face. you wait for his response.
“well?” you can only wait for so long before you’re trying to entice him to say something, anything.
he adjusts himself on the lounge, full body facing you at this point, if he was pushed up any closer he’d be on top of you.
“just like, out of curiosity. can you do it again?” he asks bashfully. he did say take it or leave it. so you take it, while he’s dangling it in front of you.
this time, you curve your hand gently around the back of his neck to guide his face. tilting your head slightly before pulling him in. you lick the back of the teeth again, even slower than the first time. you can feel matt holding his breath, and the taste of the root beer he just had still lingering.
matt takes a deep breath when you part from him again, flaring his nostrils slightly and sucking on the inside of his cheek. he looks confused, in a content way. but confused nonetheless.
you stare at him, memorising this look on his face. without breaking his stare with you, matt reaches for a pillow and throws it over his lower body, holding it in place. before he has a chance to set it onto his lap, you glance down to see the bulge forming under his black shorts.
“did you like my tongue in your mouth, matthew?” your words are jovial, but he turns away from you after you question him, looking quite literally anywhere else.
“no-i,i mean. fuck, i don't know. no." he rambles, response being faster than his brain can even register, not pulling out the best choice of words from his vocabulary.
“no? is that why you let me do it twice?” you tease, turning the table on him.
"you're right," he pauses.
"maybe we should make it three. for good luck." he looks back at you with a red hue on his cheeks, simpering smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he hugs the pillow on his lap.
"only if you ask nicely," you squint your eyes, and he rolls his.
"i'm not beggin' for it. no way." he shakes his head, boston accent coming through a lot thicker when he's defensive. it happens a lot, and that's how you know you have him cornered.
"your call, matty. take it or leave it." the front you're putting on for him is a fraud, having a gut feeling that it's the only cue he needs to surrender. he's silent for a solid minute.
"fuck, jesus, okay." he finishes, grabbing your face this time. he caresses your jaw, and his touch is so firm and so warm.
the pillow between your bodies is like a barrier, but he pushes up against it hard to bring you as close to his face as you can. you brace yourself for him to open his mouth again, but instead, your lips collide.
your eyes close instinctively and his soft, wet lips move with yours, taking your bottom lip between the kiss, and letting his tongue slide in and dance across your own. slowly he pulls away, fluttering inches over your mouth instead of distancing himself.
"i don't know, i don't know why i just-" matt is still touching your face through his panic-stricken words.
you don't even counter his sentence before grabbing the collar of his hoodie and pulling him back to your mouth. you shove the pillow off the lounge in-between your bodies with your knee while shifting your body weight onto his lap, an easy transition considering how close you've been the whole time.
matt grabs your waist immediately, securing you on top of him and deepening the kiss. you feel your throat shake with his small, desirous moan into your mouth. you sink all of your body weight onto him and can feel his dick underneath you growing harder, heat radiating from between his legs.
the kiss becomes heavier, more desperate and messy, missing each others mouths and clashing your teeth, taking breaths for a split second before attacking each other's lips again. your nails dig into his shoulders and matt's hands lower, stationing on your upper thigh.
you're in such a state of disbelief but ignore every doubt or worry you're forcing yourself to have. you've mentally convinced yourself this is a dream. you're not actually grinding into your bestfriend's groin, making out with him and having his thumbs get closer and closer to your heat, feeling wet already at the friction.
matt kisses the corner of your mouth, your cheek bone, the tip of your nose, then your jaw. he trails the kisses on your jaw lower and lower, grazing his teeth along your delicate skin until he reaches he crease of your neck just under your ear, and you lean into him as much as you possibly can.
"you like my teeth so much, wait until you see what they can do to your neck," he forces deeply against your skin, biting at your earlobe.
"god, matt," you exhale.
you feel a sharp, stinging suck to your neck, making you gasp. he pulls your skin into his mouth, tongue rubbing the area that he's suffocating in his bite. he pulls away, making a sharp sound when he lets go. he repeats the same thing just underneath his first bite, and your body is twisting and distorting in his arms. you tug at his hair with a warning.
"you’re gonna have to explain those marks." you tremble, yet not stopping him. he taunts a stifled laugh.
"don't care," he starts, pulling your shirt off your shoulder and sucking another deep purple mark on your collar bone.
"i'll spell my name out on your skin if i have to." it’s like he’s a trance, trailing his middle finger along the bites he just left before looking up at you with a dazed smile.
his chest is rising and falling prominently, both of you catching your breath after the intense session. matt gently presses his lips to yours again, and you lean your forehead against his. he grips at the bottom hem of your shirt, toying with the fabric.
"if i knew my teeth would get you on top of me, i would have let you lick em' sooner," he has a crooked, dopey grin on his face. you blush, flustered at his words.
"is this is insane? you don't think you're gonna regret it?" you're cautious with your words, voice gentle, head still leaning against his and your fingers playing with the hair creeping on the nape of his neck.
"i could never regret you." he shakes his head softly, making you smile and peck another gentle kiss on his lips. you know he means his words, and they make you want to melt into a puddle.
"smile for me quickly," you banter, holding onto his shoulders but pulling back to look at his face properly.
he covers his face with his big hands and you let out a hearty laugh, attempting to pry them off and begging him to stop hiding.
"matt! you'll let me shove my tongue down your throat but can't smile for me?" your stomach hurts with the laughter caused by the sheer fight he's putting up covering his face.
when you finally get him to drop his hands he has the biggest, cheesiest grin on his face. smiling ear to ear, and eyes closed shut, putting on a show for you. he drops his face quickly once you've had your time to look, and has those signature tired and heavy eyes make an appearance once again.
you lean in, slowly, so slow. your face is drawing him in like a magnet, him following your moves to meet in the middle. he flashes his teeth once again, and you run the tip of your tongue across his bottom lip, feeling his teeth too, budging his mouth open.
"now you're just taking advantage of it," his raspy voice speaks, pulling you back to his mouth by your neck and leading with his tongue, letting it slide in and moaning into your parted lips. they finally sink into each others after teasing each other, seeing who falls into the kiss first.
your tongues fight for dominance and matt grabs the back of your neck hard, forcing you to stay where you are. you're tilting left and he's tilting right as you focus on breathing through your nose to stay attached to each other as long as you can.
you can literally feel matt take his time to explore your mouth, circling every inch he possibly can. he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites hard, making you gasp before pulling back and letting go, both of your mouths wet and glistening with each others saliva.
matt wipes your mouth with his thumb, applying enough pressure but still being gentle. he's staring at your skin before his eyes fixate on those marks he left earlier.
"oh fuck, they're pretty bad" he giggles, and you roll off his lap with a groan, slapping your hand over your neck as if to hide them from him. your legs drape over his thighs and you can feel him looking at you.
you hide from him by sinking into the lounge for no good reason other than you think somehow it'll make the marks disappear, or manifest that it does.
"i didn't even bring makeup to cover it," you fake cry, seeing how bad it could make him feel, but he doesn't budge. matt slaps your thigh as if to say 'i'm not buying it' then rubs your legs soothingly.
"you're not covering them up. i won't let you leave the house if you do, no other option." matt is demanding but lighthearted in his words.
"oh no, i can't leave, what a shame," you dramatically flail your hand to your temple like an old school movie scene, and matt pokes your rib to get you to snap out of it.
"if you ever want to see my teeth again i'd watch the dramatics, honey" and those words coming from him alone make you cut the act, flushing red and sitting up properly.
you don't know how he's managed to whip you into line, usually being the other way around, but you're not risking it.
you've somehow taken more than you could ever ask for from him, and you're still anxious that you've bitten off more than you can chew. no pun intended.
regardless, you're in ignorant bliss. you'll take everything you can get from matt, and more, if he's willing to give it to you. which at this point, you're sure he is.
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rjalker · 1 year
Text
Dear people who aren't physically disabled who plan to write fantasy settings:
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[ID: Several images taken from the Geordi La Forge yes and no meme format, with Geordi holding out a hand disapprovingly for the no section, then pointing in approval for the yes section.
The first image is the meme:
No: "Saying the existance of magic in your setting means there are no disabled people (this literally just means disabled people are killed. AKA eugenics)"
Yes: "Having disabled people who use magical mobility aids and other assistive devices. Realizing that someone is still disabled even if their prosthetic arm is made of magic instead of plastic."
This is followed by four more panels of yes section:
"Geordi la Forge is still literally disabled. His visor helping him does not erase his disability and make him magically abled."
"Toph from Avatar: The Last Airbender is still literally disabled even though her Earthbending helps her. It does not make her disability ~magically~ go away."
"Having your disability be accomodated does not mean the disability goes away. Having a prosthetic hand, even one that's made of magic, does not mean you're not disabled."
"Magical mobility aids do not mean disabled people don't exist. It just means they use magical mobility aids instead of plastic or metal ones. A limb made of magic is still a prosthetic even if it's made of the soul of the universe instead of plastic and metal."
Then another no panel: "'There's no disabled people beacuse magic'".
Then one last yes panel: "'Magic helps disabled people in a variety of ways'".
End ID.]
This also applies to science fiction; just because Luke Skywalker's prosthetic hand is super advanced doesn't mean it's no longer a prosthetic, or that he's not disabled. Same with Darth Vader - just because he has a suit that lets him breathe and walk around doesn't mean he's not disabled. (And Star Wars' propensity for making the villains visibly disabled while the heroes disabilities get covered up by super advanced prosthetics is a topic that deserves its own post, especially with how ableist some of the authors of the books are. Troy Denning is especially ableist)
Edit:
Because people keep being fucking obnoxious and ableist in the tags, yes,,, motherfuckers, if you refuse to have disabled people in your setting, that does make you fucking ableist. If you say that the magic is used to cure all disabled people and that's why they don't exist, that's fucking eugenics.
You cannot ""cure"", more like remove all disabilities without fucking eugenics. Magically automatically destroying disabled fetuses (a very fucking popular trope!) is eugenics.
The only way to fucking "cure" autism is to fucking kill all autistic people, also known as eugenics!
What about people with PTSD? Do you just fucking brainwash them so they aren't traumatized anymore?
Do you force all Deaf people to be able to hear? Do you force all blind people to be able to see? Do you force all anosmics to be able to smell?
Do you magically force everyone with a speech impediment to speak to your standards?
Do you force everyone born with bodily or facial differences to live up to your fucking standard of beauty?
You cannot fucking say "disablities don't exist in this universe because magic cures everything" without inherently saying that eugenics exists in your fucking universe.
Not all fucking disabilities need a cure. If you ""cured"" my autism I'd just be fucking dead. You'd literally just be changing me into what you think is fucking acceptable.
Stop fucking arguing in defence of ableists on my fucking post so you can pretend that eugenics has never been written about in magical settings when it is extremely fucking prevalent.
And while we're fucking at it, let your gods damned characters become disabled over the course of their story, and call them disabled within the fucking story. I don't care if they're a robot. I don't care if they have magic. Not all fucking damage can be fixed. Curses exist. Hardware can go out of fucking date and no longer be manufactured anywhere.
Let your characters become disabled and do not magically fucking cure them back to brand new every single time they get hurt. The only thing you accomplish by doing that is destroying any chance of ever having stakes.
No, "magical healing leaves scars on the mind from the memory of the injuries though!!!!" is not fucking good enough. Let your characters have scars. Let them become disabled. Stop being fucking ableist cowards.
Edit number fucking 2:
No, motherfuckers, you do not get to comment "if the disability was caused by magic it's not ableist to cure it with magic". You are the ableist this post is about. Shut the absolute fuck up, stop treating being disabled as the worst possible outcome, and just admit you're a fucking ableist. If you don't want your characters to become disabled, then don't fucking make them disabled.
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[ID: The Garfield "you are not immune to propaganda" meme, now edited to read:
"If your first thought upon reading this post is, 'Oh, but it's okay to magically cure disabilities caused by magic!' Congrats…you are the exact sort of ableist jackass this post is about."
End ID.]
Edit number fucking 3:
Autistic people exist! People who are born with disabilities exist! You cannot create a setting where disabled people do not exist because we're all "cured" or "fixed" and not inherently say that you are killing disabled people as soon as they're born, or fucking aborting us as soon as you figure out we'd be born disabled! That's fucking eugenics!
There is no way to "cure" autism without eugenics! There is no way to "cure" people with body differences without eugenics! There is no way to make disabled people nonexistant in your setting without eugenics! Thinking you can and should "cure" and "fix" all disabilities IS EUGENICS!
Also:
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[ID: A character shouting at the camera, now edited to read: "Shut up about Dungeons and Dragons! Shut up about Dungeons and Dragons! If the rules of Dungeons and Dragons are ableist, then fucking change them! It is your fucking personal responsability to be a better person than your bigoted society wants you to be!". End ID.]
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[ID: White text on a dark brown background with white and black borders around the edges, that reads:
"I don't fucking know or care about Dungeons and Dragons.
This post is not about Dungeons and Dragons.
Do not fucking throw the rulebook of Dungeons and Dragons at me like it's some sort of 'Gotcha!'.
You will literally just be blocked like the rest of the ableist assholes who've already tried it.
If you play dungeons and dragons, it's your responsability to make your games not be ableist, even if it means breaking the rules.".
End ID.]
I do not fucking care what the ableist rules are in Dungeons of Dragons. Do not fucking throw ableist rules for a game I have never and will never play at me on a post I made so that people could learn how to make their settings less ableist. If the rules in Dungeons and Dragons are ableist, then fucking change them. If you don't want to change them, then stop fucking playing an ableist game.
Disabled people deserve to see ourselves represented in fiction just like everyone else, without any fucking requirements that we be "cured" or "fixed" before the story ends.
How the fuck would you feel if a trans and gay character's whole story revolved around going on a quest to become straight and cis, did so, and only then was allowed to live happily ever after?
Why do you fucking think suggesting people write stories about disabled people going on a quest to be cured because it's the only way they'll ever be happy is any less fucking offensive?
Also:
This post is NOT a place for you to talk about how disabled people in fiction should have the option of curing their disabilities. It's just not. That's the fucking default for this society. That is not a revolutionary concept. It's not novel. We fucking know this society wants us gone. A post about how disabled people deserve representation is not the place to talk about how "Well, actually, in fiction disabled people should be cured!" Like that's not the fucking universal default???????????
Edit #4:
Everyone needs to stop tagging this singing praise for Fullmetal Alchemist. A story that uses disability as a punishment and the characters are on a quest to cure their disabilities is not the amazing representation you're all claiming it is just because the character who is only disabled because of DIVINE PUNISHMENT uses prosthetics.
Read this post, and this one. Fullmetal Alchemist is a hell of a lot more ableist than you people are letting on.
guess what you can now find a PDF version of this post on the web archive.
Edit #5! August 23rd, 2023!
A) Everyone. Disabilities that can only exist in the magical setting are still disabilities.
Trying to cure the younger brother's magical disability of being a soul floating around in a magical suit of armour is, in fact, going on a quest to heal a disability!
It doesn't matter if the older brother doesn't want to get his limbs back when they're going on a quest to heal the younger brother's disability! Especially when they BOTH get magically healed at the end!
Magical disabilities that can only exist in that setting, but not real life, are still disabilities, and it's not okay to magically heal them either! What part of the Garfield meme on this post did you all choose to ignore?!
B) When you leave tags on a post you are reblogging, the original poster can see them! When you leave tags on this post, I can see them!
If you think this post is ""too aggressive"" then simply do not reblog it! Don't fucking tone police me on a post I've had to edit five times now due to the constant ableism people have been commenting since I made it!
I have been called the R slur by multiple people in response to this post! People have literally reblogged this post to defend eugenics abortions! You can't see these comments or replies anymore because I blocked the poster!
If you think minorities are being too aggressive by responding appropriately to bigotry, you're a bigot! And you should either not reblog the post at all, or at the very least, shut the fuck up and not tone police us!
Do not fucking put tags on this post complaining I'm being too aggressive! That's called tone policing and you're a bigot if you do it! Don't fucking do it on anyone else's posts either! They can see your tags too!
C) When I fucking say Harry Potter fans are banned from this post, yes, this means YOU!
Either stop supporting a billionaire who's literally using the profits from her bigoted shittily written books to fund REAL FUCKING GENOCIDE, or fuck off!
By continuing to support the Harry Potter series, you are literally giving JK Rowling free fucking advertising! You are encouraging more people to read the series and watch the movies, spending more money and giving her more fucking money with which to LITERALLY SHAPE A COUNTRY'S LAWS TO COMMIT GENOCIDE. She is literally fucking fighting to make being trans illegal! She is literally fucking fighting to have even more of autistic people's rights taken away!
You cannot fucking be a fan of the Harry Potter series in 2023 and call yourself an ally to all the minorities harmed by JK Rowling and the bigotry baked into her shitty series!
Read another book! The Web Archive has tons you can read for free! Literally every single book on gutenberg.org/ is free! Including audiobooks for some of them!
If you write Harry Potter fanfiction, simply fucking get rid of the names and identifiable features and start writing original fiction instead! It's literally free!
Not supporting a literal fucking genocidal billionaire costs LITERALLY NOTHING! And if you refuse to fucking stop supporting JK Rowling, which is what you are doing when you support the Harry Potter series and squeal over her OCs, you are not an ally to any fucking minority! No! Not even if you're trans yourself!
= = =
Edit again Nobember 28th 2023 because this comment is just. such a perfect example for all of you that think this doesn't happen.
butter-whore2 said, two hours before this edit:
kind of a fan of tumblr's slightly more algorithmically elements for reminding me of the hell's other people construct for themselves but this one hits like five of the boxes. How do people do this to themselves? it's such a bizarre way to act over media I genuinely do not believe is capable of stirring an emotional response the metaphysics of disability here are unintentionally really funny but disability is not a coherent ontological framework, it's a vague descriptor for literally thousands of different things none of which lend themselves to categorizing Moralizing over fiction is incredibly lame.
Liking harry potter is also incredibly lame, it's not morally wrong nor transphobic and you do not get to decide that lol. people literally do get "cured" of their disabilities all the time, many of them have a positive experience in doing so. this is not what eugenics is.
the anti abortion stuff lol
Literally how do you live like this? you guys don't even read real books I don't get it.
Archived version of the comment for posterity.
So yeah, lofl, block this fucker.
11K notes · View notes
angel-eyes05 · 10 months
Text
to leave the warmest bed i've ever known
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pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara 
summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office
warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death
word count:  4.1k
notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)
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The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun.
You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.
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Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.
Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.
You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere.
When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late. 
How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward.
Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange.
The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.
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The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens.
Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.
That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off.
“That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.
“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected.
“You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.
The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened.
“You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned.
“Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”
Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive.
He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!”
He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.
“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.”
You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.”
He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end. 
“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself.
Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.
First though, you had to find Gwen.
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a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao
NEXT CHAPTER
5K notes · View notes
fawngirl222 · 4 months
Text
meeting rockstar!remus
summary - you meet rockstar!remus for the first time, and he's more than infatuated with you.
pairing: remus lupin x reader
word count: 0.4k
genre: fluff
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You squirm in your seat, uncomfortable at the many wandering eyes on you. You lost your friend a while ago, probably surfing through the crowds.
"Hey, you." You can't really make out the face in the dark, "What's a pretty girl like you doing here?" It's Remus Lupin, bassist of the Marauders. He's way out of your league, socially and physically.
He's a lot more attractive than you thought. His sandy brown hair falls in front of his face and a large red scar covers his nose but it's cute. He slips right beside you on the empty sofa. "I'm just with my friend— but I can't seem to spot her." You frowned,
"That's alright." He flashes you a warm smile. "What's your name?"
Your name rolls smoothly off his tongue, his presence is equally scary as exciting. "I'm Remus." He seems rather intrigued by your presence, engaging with you more than anybody here.
"I know. Isn't this your... party?"
"After party for our album. You a fan?"
"Just a little, heard a few"
"Moony! Who's the pretty girl" You blushed, it was the rest of his boy band. James Potter and Sirius Black.
"Pretty?" You questioned.
If your friend was here, she'd faint. You were a bit embarrassed, you didn't exactly belong here and you weren't even semi-popular.
"Just met her. She's lovely."
"James, and Sirius." They both put out their hand, "Hi, I know, my friend is obsessed with you guys."
"And you're not?"
"I'm a fan, a bit. I've heard some stuff, it's really good."
"She's a keeper." You felt flustered, not used to the attention. Maybe they had, maybe they always went up to "pretty girls" but until five minutes ago you never considered yourself one.
He senses your nerves, and his hand reaches out for yours. He searches for something behind those eyes, "Hey, wanna get out of here?" It's a bit impulsive for him. To ask a girl he's never seen before, especially him and with his status. He has a feeling about you though.
"Sure." A part of you feels bad for ditching your friend back at the party, and the other doesn't when you see her hanging off the arm of Sirius Black.
"You're very pretty"
"What?"
"Back there, you questioned it. You're very pretty."
You blush, "I think you're pretty too."
You think you can’t get any redder than you already are, but he pulls you in the big limousine and holds your hand tight and he says, “Management is gonna kill me, but how can I resist? You’re the prettiest girl I’ve seen here.”
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author's note: i'm scared of posting this, it's my first writing in a while:,) I adore rockstar remus though.. just something short and sweet
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leafsandstarlight · 7 months
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Payback - Bat Boys x Reader
Request: located here :) Description: Fed up with the bat boys' teasing, reader decides to take things into her own hands and impose a sex ban. Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys make it their mission to get her to break it. Warnings: explicit sexual content, use of pet names, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption Author's notes: this got slutty very quickly! this is my first time writing for all the batboys, but it was really fun, so feel free to send more requests for them in! thank you for reading ❤️ Word count: approx. 4500 words
Minors do not interact.
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It was barely afternoon, and you were already wrapped in your males' arms, as though it was your rightful place.
You had been a part of the inner circle for over a hundred years.  Like the rest of your friends, you had found yourself dreaming of a better world, and when you met Rhysand by chance, he knew you were one of them.  He offered you a position within his court– lead emissary.  You were grateful for the employment, but even more so, you were grateful for their company. 
You had fallen into easy friendship with the inner circle, especially Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel.  It had all happened organically.  Somewhere along the way shared laughter and open grins morphed into flirty touches and lingering glances between you and the three Illyrians.  When Amren and Mor left an inner circle dinner party leaving the four of you alone, flirty touches and lingering glances turned into something else rather quickly.
Apparently, they decided you were worth sharing, and you certainly didn’t mind all the attention.  You loved each of the males separately.  They were funny, honorable, and kind.  Not to mention gorgeous.  They were everything for you, and you knew that you were everything to them.  But that didn’t mean they didn’t enjoy playing with you.
Recently, they seemed to enjoy nothing more than teasing you. 
They loved to get you riled up in their arms, practically begging for their cocks, and leaving you high and dry until they decided you had earned it.  It drove you crazy.
“You need us, baby.  Isn’t that right?”  Cassian purred into your ear as he pulled your roughly against his toned body.  You loved the way you felt in his arms, against his skin.  He encompassed you perfectly as your curves morphed against his large masculine frame. 
“You can’t function without having one of our cocks inside you, can you?” Azriel teased, his hand cupping your chin roughly so you would look at him. 
“Our needy little thing,” Rhys mused as he let his hand dip down your navel until his fingers found the place you desperately needed them.  “All this slick just for us?”
You found yourself mewling, not able to form words as Rhysand dipped a slender finger inside you, finding the spot that lit you on fire immediately.  Cassian held your hips steady to keep you from fucking yourself on Rhysand’s fingers as Azriel claimed your mouth with his tongue. 
“Feels so good,” you breathed into Azriel’s mouth.  You were overcome with sensation as your males took care of you. 
And then, all of the sudden, they stopped.  Rhysand’s fingers stilled inside you, his eyes glazed over as he undoubtedly plotted with his brothers.  You groaned, trying to wiggle out of Cassian’s grip so you could further your own pleasure. 
“Uh-uh, baby girl,” Cassian scolded gently, coming back to you as Rhysand pulled his mental talons out of his mind. 
You almost sighed in relief, but then, Rhysand was pulling his fingers out of you, licking off your essence in devious licks. 
When you let out a noise of protest, Azriel smirked down at you, releasing his grip on your chin. 
“We have some business to attend to, darling.  I hope you don’t mind,” Rhysand told you with a feline smile.  You certainly did mind.  You knew they loved teasing you.  It had become almost a ritual for them.  They would get you all worked up until you were desperate for them and then leave you for some meeting.  When they returned, they always teased you, whispering sweet nothings about how desperate you were for them in your ear. 
As your males left the room, each of them pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, you gritted your teeth.  This was not the first time they had left you all pent up, expecting you to merely sit on your hands and wait for them to return.  However, you decided it would be the last.  
When they returned from their meeting, entering your bedchambers with wicked smirks, you knew they scented your recent orgasm immediately.  Their eyes darked as they took in the heady scent of your pleasure.
“What’s this?  You couldn’t wait for us?” Rhysand asked as he approached, the poster boy for cocky confidence.  You were seated on the edge of your bed, your arms crossed. 
You merely shrugged at him, defiant.
“I thought we had talked about what happens when you’re naughty,” Azriel noted, his eyes darkening as he thought of the prospective of punishing you.  You tried to fight the wave of arousal that swept through, taking a deep breath as you stared at the males in front of you.  Your males.
“It seems as though you three have started taking things for granted,” you mused, letting your eyes fall to your nails as though you were disinterested in this conversation, as though you hadn’t been planning it for hours.  When you looked back up, they were all staring at you with their heads cocked to the side in question.
“Is that so?” Cassian asked with a chuckle as he moved to approach your bed.  You held a hand out, a silent warning to go no further.
“It is,” you told him tersely.  “So, I’ve taken it upon myself to remind you.”  Rhysand looked as though he was about to speak.  You wondered what teasing words he would throw your way.  Before he could get them out, you continued, “For the immediate future, these legs are closed for business.”
“What do you mean?” Cassian questioned, letting his gaze sweep over your legs lazily, not bothering to hide how much he enjoyed the sight of them. 
Oh, how you loved their attention.  If you weren’t so frustrated with them, you’d lounge in that gaze, let yourself bask in it.
But you were frustrated, and they were going to learn how it felt.
“I mean, Cassian, that I have zero intention of having sex with you idiots any time soon,” you replied easily, narrowing your eyes at him and letting your tone remain sharp.  You watched as the wheels turned in their beautiful minds, the realization of what you were telling them hitting them all at once.
“A sex ban?” Rhysand asked incredulously, a hint of a smile hiding on his lips.
You nodded, refusing to let go of the nerve you had built up.  Rhys prowled towards you, letting you feel some of his power as he stood in front of where you sat on the bed.  You held in your shiver at the sight.
Rhys smirked down at you, his violet eyes shining with mirth, as he whispered, “And you wouldn’t mind if we found another pretty thing to play with?”
You knew he was toying with you, trying to rile you up as they had been doing for weeks, but you simply rolled your eyes. 
“If you can find a female who takes your cocks as well as I do, be my guest,” you whispered back, before moving yourself off the bed to put space between you and Rhysand.  You would need lots of space if you were going to succeed on your mission. 
As you quickly turned on your heel and headed towards your bathing chambers without so much as a kiss for any of them, you saw how their mouths slid open in surprise.  This was what you wanted.  You wanted them to pay for the way they riled you up. 
You made sure to turn the lock on the bathroom door as you slide into the warm bathtub, reminding yourself all the reasons why you had embarked on this crazy endeavor in the first place.
… 
The next morning, when you woke, you still felt unsatisfied.  Your solo orgasm had been enough to stave you off, but it was nothing like laying with your males.  But you were determined to stick with your ban, to make them regret the way they teased you relentlessly.
When you made your way to the dining room of the House of Wind, you were immediately met with their warm, musky scents.  You inhaled, savoring the way their scents mingled, before willing yourself to stay strong.
“Good morning,” you greeted, trying to sound as aloof and uncaring as possible.  Immediately, all eyes were on you. 
“Morning, darling,” Rhysand replied easily, his voice a low hum in his chest. 
“Sleep well?”  Cassian asked, his gaze trailing to your lips as you grabbed yourself a bowl of oatmeal.  You didn’t bother responding, just hummed in response.
Didn’t miss us too much? Rhysand’s voice sifted into your mind, and when you sent him a glare, he merely smiled innocently. 
Not enough to take back what I said last night.  You replied mentally, earning a raised eyebrow from Rhysand.  A challenge.
When you met his gaze, you found him bringing his spoon to his mouth, lapping at it sinfully.  He feigned innocence as he stared back at you, swirling his wicked tongue against the metal of the spoon.  Oh, how you loved that tongue.  You felt your traitorous mind slipping to all the pleasurable things Rhysand did with that tongue – how he fucked you with it, how he lapped at your clit in a lethal rhythm.  Realizing where your mind was going, what Rhys was trying to do, you clenched your jaw and willed the thoughts away.  No spoon was going to break your determination.
Before you drew your attention away from him, Rhysand sent you a mirthful wink. 
Game on, it told you. 
You spent the morning training with Cassian and Azriel.
It was not unusual for the males to train shirtless, but today, you had a feeling that that choice was intentional.  Every time Cassian flexed his muscles and Azriel spread out his large wingspan, you had a feeling that was intentional too.
But even when they were shimmering with sweat, their bare torsos calling to you, begging you to touch, to taste, you simply gave them a wave and returned to your chambers alone. 
If your fingers immediately found their way below your waistband as soon as you were alone, however, who could blame you?
The next morning, you were met with more of the same. 
At breakfast, all three males refused to wear shirts.  Their tattooed arms beckoned to you as you sat down across from Azriel.  His eyes glimmered with amusement as you took a deep breath, begging the Mother for strength.
Then, as you trained, Cassian made a point to press lingering touches to your skin with his strong, massive hands as he guided you through different movements.  Each brush of his calloused fingers against your bare skin had you cursing yourself and this silly ban idea, and Cassian seemed to know it.  He was relentless as he kept a hand on your lower back or wrapped his strong arms around you to show you how he wanted you to grip your sword.
You hadn’t realized that Rhys had joined you, too lost in the feeling of Cassian’s hands on your body, until you looked over and saw him sinfully licking a frozen treat as he stood outside of the training ring.  His violet eyes never left yours as his tongue flicked over the treat, seeming to savor every drop. 
The sight of each lick, each brush of his tongue against the frozen treat, had you clenching your thighs together, remembering what that tongue felt like.
Later that night, as you sought out dessert after Cassian and Rhys had gone to bed, you made your way to the kitchen, eager for something sweet to fill the ache within you. 
You didn’t hear Azriel approach, didn’t sense his presence, until he had you boxed in against the counter, how strong hands bracketing your body on both sides. 
Your back was to his front, but he didn’t let your bodies touch.  Instead, a mere inch of space remained between you.  It was excruciating.
“What are you doing, Az?” You asked carefully, though your voice was thick in your throat.  He must have heard how you swallowed slowly, how your heartbeat quickened as he leaned down to your neck.
Azriel ran his nose along the crook of your neck – just the faintest touch – and you could barely hold in your whimper. 
“Just missed your scent,” Azriel told you, his voice low in your ear, and you wanted to turn and pull his mouth into yours. 
Instead, however, you took a deep breath, remembering your mission.
Sensing that you weren’t about to break, that you weren’t going to melt into his body despite how clearly you wanted to, Azriel reached out and stole one of the pastries off your plate with a smirk and left you alone, panting in the kitchen.
It went on like that for a few more days, and you realized that they had planned their moves together.  They were Illyrian warriors after all, trained in battlefield strategy.  They each capitalized on their strengths – focusing their consolidated efforts on taking down their joint enemy: your self-control.
Cassian started moving around the house clothed in only the shortest, tightest shorts you had ever seen.  Each time he moved, you could see the outline of his juicy, muscular ass.  You couldn’t help how your gaze lingered on his muscular legs, his strong physique as he unabashedly showed off his muscles. 
Azriel, however, took a different approach.  Any time the two of you were alone together, he found an opportunity to whisper dirty things into your ear, his wings flexed out behind him.  Azriel reminded you of his favorite moments of having you pinned under him.  He told you how good you always felt when his cock was deep inside you, how he had never fucked a mouth more perfect than yours.  Every word out of his mouth was wicked, daring you to fold beneath him.  You weren’t sure how you mustered up the courage to walk away, to not bow to the arousal that pooled in your core.
Rhysand had clearly been waiting for his big move.  You knew his taunting and teasing with his tongue was not all he had planned for you, but you didn’t realize exactly what he was planning until you found him naked in your bathtub.
“Rhys, what are you doing?” You asked, startled to find him in your bath when he had his own at both the House of Wind and the Townhouse.  Your High Lord merely smirked at you, shrugging.
“Unfortunately, my baths are in repair at the moment.  I hope you don’t mind,” he drawled, appreciating how your gaze fell across the wide planes of his torso.  He was flushed from the heat of the water.  Tiny droplets of water meandered down his chest.
Before your eyes dipped any lower, you stopped yourself with clenched teeth.
“Be my guest,” you told him easily, pretending the mere thought of him naked in front of you didn’t have you desperate for his touch. 
“I’m just about done, actually,” Rhysand replied nonchalantly, and before you knew what was happening, he was standing, showing off his full body in all its naked glory. 
You gulped, your eyes immediately finding Rhysand’s long, perfect cock that was hardening under your attention.  He smirked at you, stepping out of the tub and moving closer to you until you were backed up against the bathroom sink.
“Want a towel?” You croaked out.  You weren’t sure what you would do if he tried to kiss you. 
Rhys merely laughed, reaching over you and  pulling a fluffy black towel off the shelf to cover his torso. 
As he moved out of the bathroom, Rhys turned and met your eyes.  “You know, darling, we needn’t keep playing this game.” 
His smirk was playful, but a deeper desire lingered within his violet eyes.  You felt your cheeks heat, and you had to force your features into a glare.
“We don’t have to, but we will,” you told him haughtily, closing the bathroom door in his face.
You managed to survive their onslaught of seduction efforts – getting through a full week of no sex.  It was difficult to say the least, but their mounting frustration filled you with a sense of accomplishment.
You knew they hadn’t sought out another to fill your place, that they were suffering just as much as you were.
On the seventh day, the four of you lounged in the sitting room of the House of Wind after dinner, basking in warm, albeit frustrated, silence.  Azriel and Rhysand sat on the couch opposite of you.  They both had their noses in books.
You and Cassian sat next to each other; heat from his large, bare thigh leaked towards you.  You knew the fact that his legs were spread wide, wide enough that his thigh brushed against your leg, was intentional, calculated.
You readjusted, rolling your neck to try and ease the soreness that spread through your back from training that morning.  Always in tune with your movements, Cassian clocked your movement adjustment immediately.
“Sore, sweetheart?”  His voice was rough, husky as he tilted his head towards you in question.
“A little,” you admitted, shrugging at your General.
The confirmation as all Cassian needed to pull you into his lap with his large, warm hands.  You let out a sound of protestation as he balanced you on his strong, muscular thighs.
“What are you doing, Cass?” You asked, thrown off by his sudden movement.
“Shh, sweetheart.  Let me give you a massage.  It’ll help your back,” Cassian whispered lowly in your ear, causing a shiver to run down your back.  His hands ghosted over your back in a reassuring pattern.
When you nodded, giving into his request, Cassian started kneading at your back muscles in earnest.  His strong hands easily undid the knots of tension in your muscles, coaxing your back into submission.
“Fuck,” you breathed.  “Feels so good, Cass.”
He merely hummed in response, but you could feel him harden against your back.  A string of moans and whimpers fell off your lips as Cassian’s hands worked their magic.  You had missed having those hands on you.
And then, Cassian’s lips were pressing gentle kisses against the back of your neck, the feeling tearing your eyes open.
When you looked up, you saw Rhysand and Azriel staring at you with wide, predatory eyes.  The strong scent of their arousal filled the air.  You could tell by their darkened gaze that they were already hard, already assuming that they had finally cracked your resolve. 
As Cassian’s hands started to slip lower and lower, testing whether you would shake him off, you stood quickly.  A noise of frustration, slipped out of Cassian’s mouth as he mourned the feeling of your skin under his hands.
“Thanks, Cass.  I’m feeling much better now,” you told him with a smile, feigning innocence. 
Before you could overthink your decision, you turned and left your males aching in the sitting room, wondering what they could possibly do to regain their rightful place in your bed.
The next day, you could feel the tension lingering in the room as the inner circle sat around the table for family dinner.  It was palpable, nearly tangible as you felt sets of hazel, brown, and violet eyes follow your every movement as you ate. 
You felt their gaze hovering over your lips as you take a sip of red wine.  When you spoke, their attention was heady, all-encompassing.  You shielded your scent from them with all your might, afraid of letting the effect of their attention show.
The meal drudged on as a weighted silence fell over the four of you. 
Finally, Amren placed her wine glass on the table with a heavy hand, glaring at the four of you.
“I’ve had enough of your idiocy for the night,” she told you with a sharp glare.  Her tone was harsh, condescending as her sharp eyes lingered over Cassian, Azriel, and Rhysand.  “Don’t bother contacting me until you have sorted yourselves out.”
You let out a soft gasp as Amren’s words pulled you from your own little world.  You hadn’t realized that the tension was so obvious to onlookers.  Rhysand said nothing as Amren moved to leave the House of Wind, a small, unsurprised smirk ghosted over his lips.
For a single moment, Amren hovered in the doorway.  She turned towards you, her blunt hair swaying slightly with the movement.
With a pointed glare, she huffed, “Take care of your boys.” 
And then she was gone. 
No one said anything else for a long moment, until Mor finally broke the silence. 
“You know what, I think that’s my cue,” Mor said with a laugh.  She grabbed one of the full wine bottles littered on the dining table and pressed a kiss to your cheek.  Throwing a wink at the rest of you, she disappeared, likely winnowing straight to Rita’s.
When it was just the four of you, it felt as though no one let out a breath for a long, fragile moment.  You downed the last of your wine, trying not to feel embarrassed about Amren’s insinuation.  
As you finally moved, standing from the table as though you were simply going to walk away, as though you had the strength, you heard Rhys let out a broken noise. 
“Darling.”  The word fell from Rhysand’s beautiful lips, halting your movements.  It was as close to pleading as he usually let himself get.
You raised an eyebrow as you met his shimmering violet eyes, steeling yourself. 
But it was Cassian who spoke next.  “Baby, please,” he groaned. 
The low, husky tone of his voice did something to you.  Heat creeped up your flushed body.
“Please, what?” 
“I need you; we need you.”
“Oh, you need me.  Is that right?” You hummed, and you watched their heads quirk to the side as realization poured over them.  You knew they finally understood what you wanted, what you were waiting for. 
They finally knew what it was that would break your cursed sex ban.
You didn’t want massages or dirty talk or views of their spectacular abs (though, that didn’t hurt).  No, you wanted their admission that they were just as desperate for you as you were for them.
Cassian was moving before you could even process your next thought.  He climbed out of his chair in a hurry – uncharacteristically uncoordinated as he flung himself to his knees in front of you. 
“Cassian,” Azriel admonished, his voice thick with the competitive need to win that lingered under his calm and collected exterior.
Cassian merely waved off his brother, giving you his full attention.
“I need you, sweetheart.  More than anything,” Cassian told you, his brown eyes looking up at you as he licked his lips seductively.  “I want you so badly I can’t think straight.  I haven’t been able to think straight in over a week.”
His words warmed something deep inside of you, but it was the genuineness of his tone that had you pulling him up by the straps of his leathers and pulling him into a crushing kiss. 
Cassian moaned as soon as your lips touched his– the sound a low rumble in his chest.  He pulled your body close to his, savoring each place you let him touch.  You could feel the desperation, the naked desire in every brush of his wet lips against yours.
When you pulled away, he groaned in displeasure, as though he feared you would leave him hanging again. 
“Is that what you need to hear, baby?  You need to know how much we need you?  How desperate we are for you?” Rhysand purred in your mind.  His violet eyes drank you in with raw hunger. 
When you nodded, he prowled closer, taking your jaw in his hand and dragging your face close to his.
“I’m desperate to be inside your sweet pussy, darling.  I’ve had to get myself off nearly twice a day just thinking of how tight and wet you always are for us.  So perfect,” Rhysand whispered, his eyes dark as he took you in.  You shivered, basking in his attention.
His lips on yours felt like heaven as Cassian drew his hands lower until they gently caressed you ass.
Cassian sunk back to his knees as Rhysand’s wicked tongue ravished your mouth, pulling a soft whimper from your lips.  Cassian winked at you as he pulled up your dress, looking as though he was desperate for a taste of you.
You shivered in anticipation and let your head tilt to the side slightly, meeting Azriel’s piercing gaze.  He was still seated at the table, simply watching as his brothers surrounded you, pulled you into their arms.  Azriel’s face was expressionless, almost perfectly neutral except for the dark hunger that lingered in his hazel eyes. 
If you didn’t know him so well, you might have missed it.  You might not have recognized that miniscule sign that he was fighting between his desire to touch you, to taste you, and his need to show you who was in control as he watched Cassian press a hot kiss to your core. 
When Cassian’s tongue dipped between your folds, you let out a low moan, overcome with the feeling.  Your eyes never left Azriel’s, however, as you beckoned him towards you silently.  The two of you glared at each other, silently fighting for dominance, as Rhysand pressed kisses to your neck, as Cassian’s tongue flicked wickedly over your clit.
You saw the exact moment that Azriel’s desire for you overcame his pride as Cassian’s tongue dove deep inside your entrance causing you to let out a whimper.  He was winnowing to you instantly, finding his rightful place behind you, his hands braced on your hips.
“Finally decided to join us?” You teased Azriel, your voice breathy as Cassian’s gaze met yours from where he was kneeling before you.
“I know when to admit defeat,” Azriel replied, trailing his nose up the base of your throat, taking in your scent. 
Rhysand captured your lips again, dominating every inch of your mouth as Azriel hummed against your neck, “I have missed you, sweet thing.  Missed the way you feel, the way you taste.”
His words drew a moan from your lips as you let yourself get lost in the feeling of their lips on your skin, of their bodies pressed up against you.
You found your pleasure like that – Cassian fucking you with his wicked tongue as Rhysand’s lips pressed against yours blissfully and Azriel pressed biting kisses to your neck.  As waves of pleasure swept over you, their hands steadied you, keeping you upright as you writhed in their arms.
“Fuck, you tasted even better than I remembered,” Cassian grunted as he stood, pulling you into a heated kiss.  You moaned as you tasted yourself on his tongue.
“I bet you’ll feel even better than we remember around our cocks too,” Rhysand purred, pressing a gentle kiss just below your ear.
When he winnowed the four of you into the bedroom, you had a feeling that keeping them waiting was going to be very, very worth it.
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@lizziesfirstwife @waytoomanyteenagefeels @vellichor01 @bubybubsters @secret-ly-here @alovelywriters
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monzabee · 4 months
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bad idea right? – ln4
masterlist
Summary: The one where seeing Lando tonight is a bad idea, right?
Pairing: lando norris x ricciardo!reader
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: mentions of breakups and also fighting, cursing, kind of a toxic relationship?, allusion to smut, it's criminal how long it took me to finish this fic
Request: this wasn’t requested, but the idea is veeery loosely from this tiktok right here! (i might def write the scenario in the tiktok in the future though)
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! it has officially been a month since i started my master's programme and i have to say it is absolutely kicking my ass, but thank you all for bearing with me while i adjust! this song has been stuck in my head for the last two-three (?) months and i really wanted to write a fic based on it. i also wanted to say that i've received all of your guys' requests, and i'm working on those, but it's harder for me to get out a request than a fic that just popped in my head because i tend to be more of a perfectionist with those - so, those are definitely on the way, don't worry! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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It’s not that you don’t like spending time with your brother and his girlfriend – because you do, but considering the fact that spending a mere hour with them causes you to suddenly question your life choices (of being single), you are very eager to leave them alone for the night. Which brings us to the current situation, with you standing in front of your brother’s apartment complex in one of the hoodies you stole from the sample boxes, waiting for someone you should’ve never hit up in the first place. It was probably not your brightest idea to message Lando to ask him if he wants to go for a ride, especially because a) the last time you saw him a year ago the two of you were yelling and throwing things at each other and b) you’re definitely buzzed from the bottle of wine you hogged upstairs. But you know what they say; absence makes the heart go fonder, right?
So there you are with your phone in your hand, texting Lily in hopes of getting the tiniest bit of reassurance about your decision.
To lily m: i texted lando To lily m: he’s gonna pick me up From lily m: WHAT? NO To lily m: seeing him tonight To lily m: it’s a bad idea, right? From lily m: YES From lily m: DO NOT GET INTO THAT CAR To lily m: yes i know that he’s my ex, but can’t two people reconnect?
Fuck it, it’s fine, you decide as you quickly delete the last two messages. With a soft sigh, you wrap your arms around yourself to shield yourself from the cold air of the night. And while you could just wait for Lando inside the apartment building, you really don’t want to attract more attention to yourself. You can feel yourself getting more and more nervous as the minutes pass by, and you even contemplate cancelling the whole thing and going upstairs to sleep. Just as you’re about to give up on the whole thing, a car honk grabs your attention. When turn to look at the source of the sound, you see Lando’s unamused face through the open window.
He motions you to get in with his head, his voice as equally detached as he calls out, “Get in.”
Rolling your eyes at his behaviour, you do as your told. But you tell yourself that it’s not because he told you to, but because you’re cold. And so you get in the car making sure you slam the door as hard as you can, which makes him scowl as a small smile forms on your lips. “You know, you could really try on being more polite.”
“I’m picking you up in the middle of the night,” he points out as he puts the car on drive and starts driving off, “and put your damn seatbelt on.”
You give him a sideway glance as you put on your seatbelt, letting out a sigh, “Are you okay? I’m sensing some serious undertone.”  
Lando doesn’t answer you, mainly because he is smarter than he looks and he knows you’re trying to goad him into another fight. That’s what the two of you had always done, not that he hated you or vice versa, but the two of you mainly got along in fights which ended up in both of you twisted between the sheets of the whatever hotel you were currently staying in. And it had worked for a while, until of course it didn’t, and Lando was mature enough to admit that he had a huge role in fucking up your relationship.
“You changed your car,” you point out.
“Thought you’d appreciate a roof over your head this time,” he replies.
The car is silent as Lando drives down the now empty streets of Monte Carlo, and you find yourself involuntarily checking out his side profile because well, he always looked so good while driving. You suppose it’s only one of the things that didn’t change with time.
“So,” his voice draws you out from your thoughts, “why’d you call me tonight? Are you drunk?”
“I am not drunk,” you scoff, crossing your arms across your chest, “if you don’t feel like being here Lando, I can just get off and go home.”
“Now I didn’t say that, I simply asked a question.” He steals another glance at you, but this time a little smirk forms on his lips when your eyes meet and he sees your scowl. “It was a harmless question, really.”
Your voice comes off as clipped as you answer, “I’m not drunk.”
“Your cheeks are red,” Lando points out but the playfulness from mere seconds ago is gone, in fact, he’s more serious than you’ve probably ever seen him, “you either had wine or your rosacea is acting up.”
It takes a moment for you to take in his words, and there is no humour in his voice or on his face when you look at him to see whether he’s joking or not. “I had some wine,” you confess, voice much lower than before as you add, “but I’m not drunk.” One of his eyebrows rise up, and you find yourself mumbling, “Fine maybe a little bit, but not a lot.”
His jaw ticks as he mumbles, “Okay, whatever you say.” And as you try to assess whether his voice is cold or not, you see his hands tightening around the steering wheel.
“What?” You ask, a bit quicker than necessary (in your opinion), “What did I say?”
Now it’s his turn for his voice to be clipped, and his eyebrows furrow as he asks, “Did you only call me because you’re drunk?”
“No,” your reply is truthful to some extent, you suppose, you would’ve texted him even if you had no alcohol in your system. “I wanted to see you.”
He lets out a hum, “Why?”
It’s a hard question, and you contemplate not being a hundred percent honest – but deep down you know he deserves better, even if you had your differences. So, to reveal the truth, you turn your face away from him to look outside the window, “I missed you.”
He doesn’t say anything, and you don’t turn to see what his reaction will be. Everything is peaceful for a moment.
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He takes you to a hill, the very one he took you for your first date. Though, it doesn’t carry the same excitement this time around. The two of you remain in the car with the windows rolled down, but the colder air doesn’t make you chilly. It’s silent, but it’s not an uncomfortable one. Neither of you make the first move to start a conversation, and you don’t know if that’s because you’re both obstinate or he doesn’t want to be there. Though, you suspect he would’ve told you ‘no’ if he didn’t want to be there – not that he could ever tell you ‘no’.
It's unnaturally hard, you realise, not looking at him on purpose when he’s seated so close to you. Especially because you haven’t seen him in months. Not that you’d confess that to him, or let yourself have another weak moment where you say you missed him. Because you can’t. Because it’s not the way the two of you operate. Because he broke your heart but you’re not strong enough to let him go. With that last thought, you take a sharp breath, undo your seatbelt and get out of the car. You lean against the hood of the car and he soon follows suit. But where your hands are splayed behind your back, his arms are crossed over his chest.
“You’ve not been sleeping.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. Because he is not dumb (or blind enough) to let the circles under your eyes slide.
And it’s a statement that might be true. You only give him half of a shrug, “So?”
“It means that something is bothering you.” You’re about to object, but he quickly shuts you down, “I once drove you around for four hours so you could sleep in my car, honey,” his fingers move to gently turn your chin towards him so he can look into your eyes, “and that was because you forgot to bring me back junk food from Australia.”
Even if you’re taken aback by his physical touch, you don’t show it as you stubbornly maintain your eye contact. “It’s the jet lag, I haven’t travelled in a while.” You gulp down a breath as you gently push his hand away, “And don’t call me that.”
“Why?” He turns his body to face you, “You’re just as sweet, aren’t you?”
“Lando,” you warn him, “don’t.”
He raises a brow, “Why not?”
“Because we’re friends,” your response comes off in an instant, “I only see you as a friend.” The biggest lie you’ve ever said.
“Friends,” he repeats, tests out the word, then shrugs, “sure. Now tell me what happened tonight that made you call me. Did you and Daniel fight?”
“What?” an involuntary laugh leaves your lips, and you catch the corner of his lips turning upwards just the smallest bit. “No, we didn’t, it’s not about Daniel. Can we just not talk about it, please?”
He gives you a firm nod, and you catch his grimace as he turns his attention back to the view in front of you. “You can tell me, you know,” he mumbles, “you used to.”
He’s right, you realise. You used to tell him all the little thought that popped into your head, whether it was nice or not, and he’d accommodated your thoughts. It was easier to talk to him, once upon a time, and you’re not really sure why it hurts so much right now that you can’t.
“Why do you care?” The question comes out quickly, and your voice is not as strong as you’d like it to be. “After everything, why do you care?”
“We’re friends, right?” The words tastes unbelievably sour in his mouth, and he has to restrain himself from making any sort of face, but it seems harder than it actually is for him to do and he questions whether it is worth it to
“Friends,” this time it’s your turn to test out the word, and it tastes as bitter as they come, “sure, can we ride around a bit more?”
“Fine,” he gives you a nod and motions you to get in the car, “but I have to get gas first.”
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The fluorescent lighting of the gas station is definitely not the most flattering thing. So much so that you’re sure the unflattering light outside is exaggerating the bags under your eyes. But that situation of course doesn’t apply to Lando because even under the harsh lighting, he looks too pretty. And compared to earlier in the night, you don’t try to hide the way your eyes focus on him while he’s driving, though you hope you do a much better job at hiding the thoughts that come to your mind. Even after he’s parked the car in the nearest pump, you find yourself staring at his side profile a bit too long, which earns you a sideway smirk and you try your hardest not to react, but the smile you keep trying to fight is too strong and eventually you find yourself with the tiniest smile playing on your lips.
Lando turns towards you, meets your eyes and leans over the console, “Do you want anything from the shop?”
You blink once, trying to come up with anything, twice, then “Can you get me those gummy bears that I like?”
He gives you another nod, reaches into his pocket and then hand you his phone. Ignoring your questioning stare, he explains, “So that you can play music or something, the password is still the same.” Before he gets out of the car, he does the unexpected and leans in just a little bit more to press a feather-light kiss to your temple.
You watch him get out of the car and walk away from you with your mouth slightly hanging open. You contemplate trying to unlock the phone, because why would he tell you that his password is the same? And why would he trust you with his phone when the two of you have been broken up for over a year? With shaky hands, your fingers put in the password, calling Lando’s bluff. Oh shit, you think when the phone unlocks, now what? Throwing the phone out of your hands onto the driver seat, you grab your own and quickly type a new message to Kika, who of course got the news from Lily and has been blowing up your phone, while ignoring her dozen other messages who went unread in your text thread.
To kika: this was a bad idea kika Tokika: a very *very* bad idea From kika: please tell me you’re going home To kika: um… To kika: sure From kika: GET OUT OF THAT CAR AND GET YOUR ASS HOME From kika: NOW!!
Chewing on your lower lip, your eyes linger on the messages spamming your phone, and you contemplate just getting out of the car and trying to find your way back home. But you also can’t help yourself but think… what’s the worst that could happen if you stayed? Clicking the button on the side of your phone, you place it face down on your lap after making sure you silence it for the rest of the night. With the reminder of the abandoned phone on the seat next to yours, you open your window to let some of the night air in. As your phone keeps buzzing on your lap, your eyes focus on the figure that comes out of the convenience store – and by some grace of God, he doesn’t realise the way your eyes basically undress him as he approaches his McLaren.
There’s no smile on his face, in fact, if you didn’t know Lando, you’d say he looks like an asshole; not that he occasionally doesn’t act like one. He gives you that boyish smirk when he’s next to your window, signalling you to roll it down by tapping on it twice. Lando leans against the car, his eyes locked onto yours. “Got your gummy bears,” he says, holding up the package and handing it to you once you roll it down. “It was the last one too, you’re lucky.”
Giving a tight lipped smile to the man looking expectantly at you, you accept the packet of gummy bears. “Thank you, Lando,” the softening look in his eyes is, ironically, strong enough for you to choke on the next words that are on the tip of your tongue. “I–”
“I’m sorry to bother you, are you Lando Norris?” A third voice interrupts you, and you find yourself moving your gaze from Lando to the woman who’s excitedly waiting for a response.
“Yes,” he breathes out, and you can tell he’s trying to keep his voice polite but he’s also very annoyed at the same time – though the way he eyes up the stranger definitely makes your blood boil.
With his attention on the woman, you find yourself feel the tension in the air and quickly look down at the packet of gummy bears in your hands. You start absentmindedly picking at the wrapper, your mind racing with a mixture of emotions. As the conversation between Lando and the fan continues, you steal glances at them from the corner of your eye. She's gushing about a recent race, talking animatedly about the thrilling moments she witnessed. Lando, for his part, is gracious and engaged, taking the time to listen and respond. And despite the polite exchange, you can't help but feel a pang of jealousy. It's a reminder of the world he's a part of, a world where fans approach him with admiration and excitement. A world you used to share, but now only observe from the sidelines.
You watch the woman place her hand on Lando’s bicep, laughing at a (rather mediocre) joke he made about the understeer of the car. It’s not a funny joke by any means, and you are not scared to admit that the woman’s laugh that fills your ears makes your insides twist uncomfortably. You remind yourself that you're here by choice. You could have left at any moment. But there's something about this night, about being with Lando again, that you can't quite let go of. It's a confusing mix of nostalgia and longing, wrapped in a blanket of uncertainty.
The woman’s voice hits your ears as you hear her ask, “Do you want to come back to my place?”
Without letting them both know that you’re actively listening into their conversation, you attempt to subtly let out a warning cough, but Lando covertly smirks as he leans towards the car with his hand grabbing the lowered window – without caring about the possible finger prints he might leave behind, might you add. Without any hesitation, you let your fingers go of the packaging to thread your fingers with his.
While his thumb gently starts to draw circles on the knuckle of your thumb, he does his best to supress the chuckle building up in his throat. “That’s, um, very kind – but I’m with my girl, you see, and we are both pretty tired.”
Maybe you would’ve given her a friendly smile over a misunderstanding if you were in a better mood, but as the woman looks at you with wild eyes, all you can offer her is an annoyed pout, and soon after she leaves after apologising to you both for interrupting your plans. You watch her leave until there is a good enough distance for her to not hear you, and then turn to Lando and give him a glare as you hiss, “I am not ‘your girl’.”
He finally lets out the chuckle he’s been holding as he watches you letting go of his hand with an exaggerated push, and then diverts his amused eyes towards you, “Sure, whatever you say, jealous girl.”
“I am not– I wasn’t jealous!” you exclaim, eyes narrowed. When he starts walking towards the driver’s side, you can’t help but call out, “I’m not jealous!”
Lando is still chuckling to himself when he gets in the car, and even as he starts driving, completely ignoring your whining complaints. “That’s alright, honey,” he says, voice full of condescension, “it was very cute.”
“You are an ass.” You roll your eyes as you cross your arms across your chest. “Maybe I should’ve gotten off when I had the chance, that way you could’ve fucked her in the back seat.”
“Bold of you assume she’s the one I’d want to fuck in my back seat,” he raises an eyebrow, then shrugs “but sure.”
Your face scrunches up in disgust, “You’re, ugh, you’re just the worst, Lando.” Shaking your head in disbelief, you add, “I can’t believe I’m arguing with you over you fucking girls in your car.”
Lando manages to get out a disapproving tut, and then contends, “I never said I’d fuck girls in my car, I’d said I’d rather fuck you in my car.”
Completely baffled by this revelation, not that you should’ve been, you turn to him in disgust, “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He shrugs again, noncommittally, and without paying you any mind continues to focus on the road.
“Well,” you laugh, breathlessly, “good thing that’s never happening.” Gently clearing your throat, you later can’t help yourself but add a silent, “Again.”
“If you’d rather a bed, that could also be arranged, honey.” Lando assures you, and you realise the little fucker has a smirk growing on his face.
“As if I’d sleep with you willingly,” you scoff.
A boisterous laugh is what you get from Lando, who tilts his head towards you, “Come on, I’m a good-looking bloke.”
“And I’m sure I’ve seen much hotter man,” you sing, but you just can’t remember when. So deciding to block out what Lando is rambling about, you pull out your phone to message someone who has the answer for you.
To lily m + kika: can you tell me someone who is hotter than lando? From lily m: alex From kika: pierre To lily m + kika: ew, be serious please From kika: what about the guy with the accent, from hungary? From lily m: the doctor? To lily m + kika: i think she meant the reporter From lily m: god no he was a creep From lily m: what about the surfer? From kika: oh yeah he was cute too To lily m + kika: i need someone hot, pleaseee From lily m: THE MODEL FROM MILAN From kika: WITH THE ABS From kika: and also porche From lily m: BUT ALSO THE ABS To lily m + kika: okay thanks To lily m + kika: love you guys
Getting lost in the conversation, with the aid of your ambition to prove yourself right and, naturally, Lando wrong, you don’t realise that he’s actually driven you back to his apartment instead of a bar or literally some other place that sells alcohol in that ungodly hour.
“This isn’t a bar.” You point out, eyebrows furrowed.
Lando dignifies your comment with a scoff, “Well aren’t you quite the detective?”
Crossing your arms across your chest, you basically hiss at him this time, “This is basically kidnapping.”
Lando glances at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “Kidnapping? Really? I thought we were just catching up.”
You shoot him a sarcastic look, but can't help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Yeah, sure. Catching up in the middle of the night at your place.”
He parks the car and turns to face you, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Well, here’s my proposal. I’ll go to my apartment and you’re free to either join me or drive my car back to Daniel’s – I’ll come pick it up tomorrow.”
You hesitate for a moment, considering your options as you watch Lando give you an assuring smile and handing you the keys before getting out of the car. Going back to your brother's place doesn't sound all that appealing, and Lando's offer, as questionable and a bad idea as it may be, seems like the lesser of two evils. Though, there is also the reality that if when you go up to his apartment, you’re probably going to do something that either you or your friends will regret tomorrow morning. Watching Lando’s retreating figure move further into the apartment building, you think, fuck it, it’s fine.
So, you wait for a few minutes, anxiously twirling the car keys in your hand to make him wait – but you’re pretty sure it makes you suffer just as much. You take a deep breath, exhale slowly, and then climb out of the car. Locking it behind you, you follow Lando into the building. The familiar scent of his cologne hits you as you step into the elevator, and a wave of nostalgia washes over you. The elevator ride going up to the second floor is pure torture, and it leaves you squirming in your place the whole time. Basically throwing yourself out of the elevator once it lands on the second floor, you realise that Lando has been waiting for you, standing and smiling at his door.
He gives you a teasing look as you approach, clearly amused by your slightly dishevelled state. “Took you long enough,” he remarks, unlocking the door and holding it open for you. But instead of saying anything or retorting back, you quietly follow him inside his apartment. Lando closes the door behind you, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment. The dim lighting casts a soft glow, creating an intimate atmosphere. The first thing that catches your eye is the helmet collection he keeps in the living room. Without saying anything, you quickly make your way over to the shelves that display the helmets, trying your best to avoid his approaching footsteps behind you. The familiar design of a particular helmet has you instinctively tracing the number at the top, and the arms that hug your waist from behind makes you freeze for a moment. Lando's touch is both familiar and foreign, stirring up a mix of emotions you thought were long buried.
“That's from Monza, 2021,” he says, his voice close to your ear. The warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine.
You clear your throat, attempting to regain composure. “I remember,” you reply, your fingers still lingering on the helmet.
For a moment, neither of you speaks. The weight of the past and the uncertainty of the present hangs in the air. Lando breaks the silence, his voice low and measured. “I wasn't sure you'd actually come up.”
You turn to face him, meeting his gaze, but don’t attempt getting out of his arms. “I didn't think so either.”
Without breaking eye contact, he slowly leans in, his lips brushing against yours. It's a tentative touch, a testing of waters, and you find yourself responding to the familiarity of the kiss. The taste of the past lingers, and for a moment, it's as if the years haven't passed. But reality crashes back in, and you pull away, the distance now a necessary boundary. Lando looks at you, a mix of emotions playing on his face. There's longing, regret, and an unspoken acknowledgment of the complexities that bind you.
“I thought we could just catch up,” he says, his tone a mix of apology and yearning.
You turn in your place, facing him. “Catching up was never our strong suit, was it?”
“Not really,” Lando shakes his head, “no.”
You bite down on the corner of your lip, threading your fingers through his curls as you pull his face down to meet yours as you rise on your tiptoes, “It’s a bad idea, right?”
Lando lets out a supportive hum as he lets his lips softly brush against yours, “The worst.” And maybe he should have been the gentleman and pull away, but when he sees your eyes closing, he just leans in further to press his lips against yours – and the way you respond to his kiss? It's as if the world outside ceases to exist. The kiss deepens, each brush of his lips against yours reigniting a long-buried flame. Lando's hands find their way to the small of your back, pulling you closer, erasing the physical space between you.
You don’t complain as he pulls you towards his bedroom, or when he gently throws you on his bed, the anticipation hanging thick in the air. As he hovers over you, the weight of the past and the intensity of the present converge. His hands trace the contours of your face, memorizing every curve as if committing it to memory. And when the two of you get lost between each other within his sheets, the only thing that ends up coming from your mouth is either his name, or some sort of encouragement to keep him going. After he manages to wear you out, Lando decides that you’re definitely not going anywhere as he wraps you in his arms around you. The room is filled with the soft sounds of breaths syncing, hearts beating in tandem. Lando's fingers draw absent patterns on your skin while you check the messages that have accumulated in your phone. The glow of your phone illuminates the dim room, creating a subtle contrast to the warmth that envelops you. Lando's presence beside you adds an extra layer of comfort, a silent acknowledgment of the shared intimacy that unfolded moments ago.
From danny: please tell me you didn’t get kidnapped by the organ mafia From danny: wink twice if you’re alive From danny: this is not funny, where are you? From danny: fine i’ll ask alex to ask lily
Rolling  your eyes before sending him a text to let your brother know you’re okay, you decide to turn your attention to the group chat with Lily and Kika.
From kika: did you get home safe? From lily m: daniel is pretty stressed about it From lily m: please for the love of god tell us you’re home and not with lando right now To lily m + kika: omg just calm down i’m in bed To lily m + kika: and i’m going to sleep To lily m + kika: love you guys
You catch a glimpse of Lando’s grin over your shoulder as you click your phone off, but he only chuckles as he buries his face into your neck as he leaves small kisses to the skin there. “Well, I’m not lying, I just didn’t specify where I was.”
“Or in whose sheets,” his laugher gets louder as you jokingly slap him on the arm, “go to sleep, honey, we’ll be tired in the morning.”
And it might’ve been a bad idea to message him in the first place, but it certainly doesn’t feel like one.
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skzms · 5 months
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*⑅୨୧* sharing is caring
˖°♡°˖ chapter 3 ˖°♡°˖
lee felix x lee minho x f!reader x han jisung can be read separately! previous parts are only referred to
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summary: “You know how we talked about it and I said I would probably be less involved if we decided to fuck other people?,” Minho says suddenly, voice barely making it above the sound of the music from the speakers. “I think I want this one.”
word count: 9.5k
warnings (there are a lot): voyeurism & exhibitionism; unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it & pee after sex, guys); dirty talk; spit; degradation; oral (m & f receiving); petnames (minho calls lix 'little boy' but not in an ageplay way); mommy & daddy kink; breeding kink; rough sex; dom!minho, sub!felix, sub!jisung, switch!reader
author’s note: this is the longest chapter and also probably my favourite 👀 like, it's filthy and long and writing it took years off my life but I'm so happy with how this one turned out. the long build up is worth it, trust me. enjoy subby slutty lixie content, because it's my fav
series masterlist // skzms' general masterlist 🔖 taglist closed!
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“You know how we talked about it and I said I would probably be less involved if we decided to fuck other people?,” Minho says suddenly, voice barely making it above the sound of the music from the speakers.
You and Jisung look at each other for a second, before following Minho’s hooded eyes across the room.
“I think I want this one.”
You, Minho and Jisung were usually good at keeping your loudest sexual escapades private, mostly staying at your apartment and not at the dorm, or at least not going too crazy when everyone was home. But, it turns out that sometimes hotel room walls are thin and the room next to yours is not inhabited by a stranger, like you thought.
And that’s how Felix heard you have sex for the first time.
Though, if he’s honest, it’s far from the first time he’s thought about it. Felix calls himself a slut on a daily basis, and he’s not ashamed of it. He knows he’s pretty, he sees people’s reaction when he opens his mouth, and his deep voice contrasts with his pixie-like features. He can tell what it does to people, and he loves taking advantage of it by flirting like his life depends on it, whether that’s with strangers or even with his own members. And it’s not like he doesn’t mean it, he’d probably fuck any of them, given the chance; And besides, the flirting amuses him – the thrill of one of them possibly giving in one day making a delicious heat settle in his stomach.
Except for Jisung, his slutty partner in crime, who he had drunkenly swapped spit with before, his favourite member to flirt with had always, always been Minho. Minho with his broad shoulders, his thick thighs, his protective yet domineering manners. It didn’t help that he was drop-dead gorgeous and had a habit of smirking at Felix in a way that made his brain fuzzy. He would drop to his knees for him in a heartbeat, if he so much as implied it.
But it had always been Minho and Jisung, and then it was Minho, Jisung and you. And all Felix’s most private hopes were dashed, until he overheard Hyunjin speak to Jeongin, about how you had fucked him stupid in LA with Jisung watching.
Felix could hardly believe his ears until he observed you and Hyunjin talk a few days later, watched your smiles and long eye contact, how Hyunjin touched your waist as he passed you in the narrow kitchen – it all felt a little too easily casual, especially because Jisung and Minho were standing right next to you.
That one fateful night, he was relaxing on his hotel bed, watching a drama on his iPad. There was some thumping and giggling next door, but he didn’t think much of it; until a moan rang out that sounded suspiciously like Jisung.
Felix lowered the volume of his drama just a little bit, holding his breath. There was a loud slap and then, undoubtedly, it was Jisung whimpering.
Felix reluctantly turned his drama back up a few notches, but he would’ve been lying if he said one of his ears wasn’t trained on the noises next door. He had thought about the three of you before, had wondered about your dynamics, whether Jisung was as much of a bottom as he seemed, whether Minho bossed you two around or if you and Minho, two of the most gorgeous people Felix had ever seen, both topped Jisung. Felix would have to be very drunk to admit it, but when he thinks about the latter for too long, it gets him so hard he has to take care of himself.
It didn’t take long before Felix no longer had to strain his ears to hear what was happening on the other side of the wall, though for the longest time, all he could hear was Jisung; his whines, whimpers and the occasional teary plea, were ringing through the room. He sounded pretty.
Then there was a different voice, your voice, spewing out curses before moaning out loudly, followed by a growl that Felix knew had to be Minho.
The bed squeaked, and a low voice muttered something Felix couldn’t make out, drowned out by your choked moans and Jisung’s breathy whines and the drama that Felix hadn’t been paying attention to for the last 10 minutes.
He finally gave in and pressed pause, and now … now he could hear everything.
“Look at you two, babies, fucked each other stupid but are too desperate to get each other off. Come on, princess, help me take care of our little slutty boy.”
Felix froze, staring at the wall dividing him from the action, his dick twitching in his pants.
“Stop whining, baby boy,” Minho spat out, and Felix felt the words go straight to his dick. “Put that mouth to good use and suck”
He heard Jisung say something, but then another loud smack rang through the room, followed by a choked moan from Jisung that makes Felix fully hard, wincing as his chest starts burning with need.
He tried to hold out as the sounds got louder, balling his fists as he listened to the bed frame slam against the wall, trying to stop his hips from twitching as your desperate moans grew in pitch. And he did well – until Minho started spewing out the most degrading filth Felix had ever heard, and he didn’t even bother readjusting himself on his bed, just shoved his sweats and boxers down and wrapped his hand around his dick, jerking himself off desperately to the rhythm of the headboard slamming into the wall.
He came at the same time you did, his free hand wound around his own neck tightly, a shudder racking down his spine. It was the best orgasm he’d had in a while, and it’s then that he made up his mind that he would be the next person to be invited to your guys’ bedroom if it killed him.
He thought about it until he fell asleep that night. He had heard enough of Hyunjin’s story to know that it all started with you flirting with him at an afterparty, before he took you and Jisung back to his room, and you fucked each other’s brains out while Jisung watched from a chair. And God, what a picture that was, not just because the thought of Hyunjin’s naked body made him salivate any day, but also because Felix knew he could take more, that he wanted more than that – he wanted all three of you, one after another, all at the same time, he didn’t care which way. How to what he wanted? He was pretty sure that if he played his cards right, the best way was through Minho – he just needed to show him how good and how pretty he could be for him.
The next morning, Felix made it a point to exit his room at the same time as you, Minho, and Jisung. Jisung’s eyes widened almost comically when he saw Felix, a pretty little blush spreading across his cheek, but Felix just gave them a cheeky smirk, letting his eyes linger on Minho a second longer before sauntering down the hallway to the elevator.
And all that week he laid it on a little thicker, batting his lashes at Minho more often than usual, wiggling his ass in his tight leather stage trousers when he knew Minho was looking, and even pretending to kiss Jisung again on the Skz Talker episode, adding to the collection of ‘Jilix’ moments he knew were floating around the internet. But he kept the best for last, and he knew it was working when he saw all three of you stare at him across the VIP section of the club.
“I think I want this one,” Minho breathes out, and you and Jisung follow his gaze across the room until they fall on Felix.
You let your eyes drag up Felix’s body. He’s dressed in his usual thick boots, tucked into which are tight black jeans that stretch perfectly across his long, toned legs, making them look endless. They’re especially tight around his ass and crotch in a way that has you do a double take to figure out exactly what you’re looking at. Tucked into his tight jeans is a flowy black shirt, almost a blouse, that exposes a deep V of milky skin. His blonde hair is half tied up and there are copious amounts of blush on his cheeks, making him look the picture of a fairy prince.
But the thing that had Minho’s mouth go dry was what sat on his neck – there, worn casually like it could just be a part of the stylist’s vision, is a subtle black collar, complete with a metal heart in the middle.
He distantly hears Jisung next to him breathe out a chuckle.
“Oh, it all makes sense now” he murmurs out, giving Minho a pointed look. You blink at him, eyebrow raised in question.
“Felix has been flirting with Minho all week,” Jisung explains and giggles, “More so than usual. Even tried to kiss me on camera. He only does that when he’s feeling extra bold.”
It takes you a second to figure it out, but then heat floods your body. Felix wanted Minho. It’s an odd sensation, the jealousy, and arousal that blooms in your chest, and you think this is how Minho and Jisung must’ve felt when you slept with Hyunjin and Jeongin. It was oddly intoxicating.
“One of the boys must’ve blabbed,” you mumble out, chuckling slightly and shaking your head. It’s not that you mind, if anything it makes this little game the three of you are playing … easier.
Your train of thought is cut off when Felix peels himself away from who he’s talking to, swaggering over to you with a flirty smirk on his lips. God, you want to slap his pretty face. Or kiss it. Or both.
He comes to stand next to Jisung, taking a long sip from his drink as he lets his eyes drag over your body. Oh, he’s bold.
“Hey guys, you look … very good tonight,” he rasps out, his voice deep and gravelly. He looks up at the three of you in turn through his pretty dark lashes, the blush on his cheeks deepening slightly. Jisung slings an arm around his shoulders.
“You look good, too, Yongbok, love the accessories,” Jisung says casually, a little smile on his lips as he takes his time studying the collar of Felix’s neck. “Picked them yourself?”
Felix turns his head to Jisung, his head inches away from his, eyes briefly flickering to Jisung’s lips before looking back into his eyes and nodding, humming out an affirmative.
At that moment, Changbin yells Felix’s name and gestures him over to a table where he’s sitting, and Felix sighs a little mournfully.
“Well, I’m needed elsewhere. Hope I’ll see you around later,” he purrs out, all smiles and big, innocent eyes, before he walks off.
“Fuck,” you whisper out as soon as he’s out of earshot, linking your arm with Minho’s. “The boy’s on a mission tonight.”
Minho just nods and Jisung chuckles, mumbling, “he’s bold, I’ll give him that.”
“And he’s especially pretty tonight,” you murmur out, earning a wink from Jisung.
You look up at Minho, trying to read his expression, but he has schooled his face into a perfect poker face.
“Earth to Minho, wanna let us know how you’re feeling?” Minho blinks down at you, face still mostly neutral, but there’s turmoil in his big, dark eyes.
“I … I don’t know. For the first time, I … I want this, but,” he hesitates as he looks down at you and then at Jisung. “I know how you two feel.”
You swallow and exchange a look with Jisung. Minho is referring to the conversation you three had had late one night, the night when Jisung admitted how much he liked the idea of inviting other people into bed with you, of watching you fuck other people. It was a long, honest conversation, one where you were setting the terms for how this would work, should the opportunity ever present itself.
Minho had said back then that he was into the idea of sharing you and getting to watch, maybe even calling the shots, but he wasn’t interested in fucking anyone else. You at first didn’t want to admit it, but his assertion had filled you with relief. You weren’t sure why the thought of you with someone else was hot, why the thought of Jisung with someone else was hot as well, but the thought of Minho with someone else made you feel … well, jealous, scared, possessive, deep in the pit of your stomach. You didn’t say anything, but it must’ve shown in your face because Minho had gently turned your face to his, asking you what was wrong.
You had told him in a small voice, reassuring him that you knew it was unfair, that it felt weird to be fine with it but not for him to do it, but he had reassured you. Only then did Jisung admit to feeling the same way, sheepishly, boyish blush all over his cheeks. Minho had cuddled you two into his chest, where you stayed for a few minutes in silence. Surprisingly, it had been Jisung who had made the great point it might be because of Minho’s unique role in your (sexual) relationship – one of a protector and a dominant, the one with the level head when you and Jisung got in over your head, which you tended to do.
You didn’t discuss it all through, since Minho had reassured you that he wasn’t interested in engaging with it anyway, and it hadn’t come up, not with Hyunjin, not with Jeongin. But now you were faced with it, in the middle of this club.
You take a second to imagine it, cautiously letting your mind wander, imagining Minho’s demanding lips on Felix’s, his strong hands touching Felix the way he touched you, and it does make jealousy flare up, but it also sends an unexpected but familiar heat down your spine. You just know Felix would look so pretty on his knees, his face all flushed, the collar still around his throat …
You look at Jisung, and you’ve never been more grateful for your almost telepathic bond because you immediately see that he, too, doesn’t entirely hate the idea of this happening.
“I think we should try it,” you say carefully, eyes on Jisung until the latter nods, then looking at Minho, who blinks down at you and Jisung, visibly surprised.
“Huh? Are you sure?” he asks gently.
“As long as we can be … involved, I think it should be okay,” Jisung says, and you nod, adding “and lots of aftercare.”
Minho hums and looks from one of you to the other, eyes full of affection.
“You’re both involved. Lots of aftercare. Anything else?”
He asks it so tenderly you cuddle closer into his arm. Jisung takes Minho’s other hand, shaking his head.
“Nothing, I just want to get to kiss him, too, he’s so pretty,” you hum out and giggle, giving Minho a smirk.
“Oh, I’m happy to share him with you, princess, if you’re anything like you are with Ji sometimes, he’ll be begging for you in no time,” he smirks and presses a kiss to your lips, tongue licking at the seam of your lips.
Jisung on Minho’s other side huffs out an undignified scoff.
“No way is Lix getting both of you,” he pouts, and you giggle, patting his cheek, letting your thumb briefly rest on his plump bottom lip.
“Don’t worry, baby, you know we always take good care of you.”
You say it with a smirk, but Jisung still licks his lips, eyes a little hazy as he presses further into Minho.
“You better, or I will throw the biggest tantrum ever,” he pouts again.
And just like that, it’s settled, and Felix doesn’t even know how lucky he’s about to get.
You don’t see Felix again until an hour and a half later. All three of you are on your fourth glass from the magnum champagne bottle the club provided, tipsy and horny in the back of the VIP section. You’re perched on Minho’s lap, his hands on your ass and mouth on your neck while you’re making out with Jisung, who’s already whining into your mouth. You thank the universe for private clubs and private VIP sections.
Suddenly, you feel eyes on you and when you pull back from Jisung and turn around, you make eye contact with Felix, who is staring straight at the three of you with his lips slightly parted. He blushes when your eyes meet, but he doesn’t look away, keeping steady eye contact with you as you smile and crook your finger at him to come over.
You climb off Minho, scooting over to make space for Felix right in between you. He hesitates only for a second before plopping down between you.
Minho’s one arm is casually thrown over the back of the sofa behind Felix, the other rests around Jisung’s shoulders, who is leaning over Minho’s lap to eye up Felix almost curiously. You fold your legs underneath yourself as you turn your entire body to Felix. He looks a lot less bold now, wedged in between you with three pairs of eyes on him. His gaze darts from one of you to the other, a dark blush creeping over his cheeks.
Minho gives Jisung one last look, threading his hand soothingly into the hair on the back of his head, as he locks eyes with Felix. He gives him a smoulder that takes your breath away and makes Felix fidget where he’s sitting.
“I don’t think I’ve expressed how much I like your choice of accessories tonight,” Minho purrs out, and you watch Felix’s eyelashes flutter. You can’t help but smirk. You knew all too well how irresistible Minho was when he gave you all his attention.
“Yeah?” Felix breathes out, eyes glazed over slightly as he stares back at Minho. “What do you like about it?”
Minho chuckles, moving his hand from Jisung’s hair until it’s hovering close to Felix’s throat. Felix is barely breathing at this point, staring at Minho with parted lips. Minho taps one finger gently against Felix’s chin, before letting it trail down his throat until he reaches the collar. His touches are soft until he hooks his finger into the metal heart in the middle, and Felix lurches forward, choking down a groan.
Minho just chuckles again and raises an eyebrow at him. Felix flushes immediately.
“You shouldn’t wear something like this if you can’t handle the consequences, little boy,” Minho chides Felix, and Felix’s eyes nearly roll into the back of his head.
“I … I can handle it,” he stutters out, hands digging into his thighs.
You had been watching the exchange with bated breath, absolutely mesmerised by your boyfriend wrapping Felix around his finger with no effort at all. Was it this hot when he did the same to you?
You look over at Jisung, who seems almost entirely gone, slack-jawed, rubbing his legs together as he stares at Minho and Felix. But tonight you’re not content with just watching.
You take advantage of Felix’s attention being almost entirely on Minho and lean over until your breath ghosts over Felix’s ear. You rest a gentle hand on his lithe waist.
“Are you sure, pretty boy? Wanna tell us exactly what you want?” you murmur into his ear, and he responds immediately, his body leaning back, trying to touch yours.
“I want all of it,” Felix breathes out, leaning into where your hand is ghosting over his body. “All of you. I can take it, I’ll be good, I promise.”
Minho nods and pats his cheek approvingly.
“Good boy. How about we take this conversation back to the hotel?”
Felix nods frantically and shoots to his feet.
As the four of you make your way out of the club, Felix’s gaze catches on Hyunjin, whose eyes are burning into his. But he doesn’t have the time to think about it too much before the four of you pile into a taxi, Jisung and you on either side of him, Minho in the front seat.
Minho starts chatting to the driver and Felix thinks he might get a second to compose himself, but that goes out the window when Jisung grabs his face and smashes his lips onto his.
Jisung’s lips are wet and soft but demanding, his tongue slipping in and out of Felix’s mouth in a way that makes Felix’s head spin.
“Hey bestie, we’ve been here before,” Jisung giggles between kisses, his hands exploring Felix’s shoulders and chest, fingers gripping the soft fabric of his shirt.
Felix almost forgets where he is until there is a different, smaller hand on his thigh, and he gasps into Jisung’s mouth. He hears you giggle as you drag your hand further and further up his thigh, until your fingers are ever so slightly brushing against his bulge. In the front seat, Minho is still chatting to the driver and Felix is trying his best not to moan when your hand comes to rub him through his jeans.
He’s already so overwhelmed by how good you and Jisung’s hands feel on him over his clothes, and he wonders briefly if he really can take all three of you without losing his mind.
When you arrive at the hotel, he scrambles out of the car, so hard in his jeans that he has trouble remembering his room number. But turns out he doesn’t have to because Minho guides him in through the doors and all the way into the elevator with his hands on his hips.
Somehow they make it into Minho’s room where Jisung throws himself down on one of the two big queen beds, kicking his shoes off and leaning back onto his arms, surveying the scene in front of him with a lazy grin.
Felix is standing in the middle of the room, suddenly feeling awkward in the presence of all three of you, but then Minho speaks up from where he’s leaning against the wall behind him, you tucked into his side.
“Right. If you ever want to stop, you say it and we stop and pretend this never happened,” he says calmly. “If you are good to keep going you say green, if you want to slow down, you say yellow, if you want to stop you say red.”
Felix nods at him and you unwind yourself from Minho’s side, walking over to Felix, coming to stand in front of him. Felix’s heart is in his throat.
“Hi,” you mumble sweetly, but your eyes are full of dark mischief. “We haven’t talked much yet, but I think you’re very pretty and I’d love to kiss you.”
Felix blushes at that, looking over at Minho before you place your soft hands on his face and turn him back to you, pressing your lips to his in a dizzying kiss. It’s exploratory, but much like Jisung, you know what you want. Your fingers find the loops of Felix’s jeans and grind him into you and when his lips part to gasp out, you slip your tongue into his mouth. His hands come to hold your body against his desperately.
It’s not as dirty as when you kiss Jisung, but Felix is pliant, letting you use his mouth however you please, body beautifully responsive to your ministrations. In a sudden surge of confidence, you wind your hand into Felix’s hair and rip him away from your mouth.
He stares at you starry-eyed, pupils blown, his lips still parted, and your spit slicked around his mouth.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he breathes out. “I want you to spit in my mouth.”
You reward him with a smirk and Jisung giggles behind you.
“Another boy in love with your candy mouth, baby,” Jisung sighs out, but his giggle dies in his throat when Minho makes his way over to you and comes to stand behind Felix. Minho looks into your eyes, as if to check that you’re still fine with it all, and when you smile at him, he gently places his hands on Felix’s waist.
Felix’s eyelids flutter immediately, and he nearly stops breathing when Minho gently tugs his shirt from his jeans, slipping his hands under the fabric and letting them run over Felix’s heated skin.
“Before we start,” Minho asks without stopping the movement of his hands, letting his breath hit Felix’s neck when he speaks, “we usually fuck quite … hard. I’m gonna name some things and you can let me know if any of those things are a No for you, okay?”
Felix nods.
“I need to hear you say it, baby boy,” Minho murmurs right into Felix’s ear, and Felix’s whole body shudders.
“Yes, … hmm yes, sir,” he mumbles out, instinctively leaning back into Minho’s hands. You can see Minho blink and swallow hard, and you can tell he loves how obedient Felix is.
“Ah, I don’t have to ask about that, then,” Minho chuckles. “What about edging? Overstimulation? Spanking?”
Minho’s hands are still gliding all over his body, his breath fanning over Felix’s neck. You gently bring up your fingers and start undoing the buttons of Felix’s shirt, until it falls open, exposing his toned abs and slim waist.
“Spit? Praise? Choking?”
Felix starts fidgeting more and more, rubbing his crotch into where he’s still pressed against you.
“Degradation?”
“Oh god, please,” he whines out desperately, his voice slipping into a higher register already.
“Not much you’re not into, huh,” Minho observes, and Felix nods eagerly.
“I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, just please touch me, I’m so hard,” Felix rasps out, blinking hard, clearly trying to keep his composure.
“Slutty little boy,” you whisper and Felix keens. He surges forward, trying to connect his lips to yours, but Minho wraps his hand around his throat and pulls him back into his chest. Felix moans loudly.
Suddenly, you feel Jisung’s body behind you, pawing at your waist as he presses his hard bulge into your ass.
“You said Felix wouldn’t be getting all the attention,” he whines with a pout, and Minho chuckles, hand still wound around Felix’s neck loosely.
“He’s our guest, Ji, so you better be welcoming,” he chides and you feel Jisung huff out behind you. “But if you’re good now, you’ll get rewarded later.”
Jisung huffs out again, but you weave your fingers into his and bring his hands to your tits. Jisung wastes no time, kneading them, pinching your nipples through the fabric of your dress and your bra.
Minho glances at the two of you questioningly one last time and you nod at him. Jisung follows, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Minho turns Felix’s head to the side, making eye contact with the boy, before he kisses him hard.
You suck in a breath at the view. Minho kisses Felix like he always kissed – controlled, demanding and precise – and Felix leans into it, happily taking whatever Minho was willing to give him, his hand gripping at Minho’s arm helplessly, the other one blindly grabbing behind him, trying to hold on to something. It’s … hot ….
Jisung behind you seems to agree as he moans out quietly, hands skating all over your waist, rutting his hard bulge into your ass.
“Touch me, kiss me,” he whispers in your ear, his voice mirroring the desperate arousal burning in your belly, and you turn around, smashing your lips into his.
Kissing Jisung is your favourite thing on any given day, but nothing compares to the wet hot eagerness of his kisses when he's riled up like this. His fingers thread into your hair, tilting your head to the side, allowing him to lick deeper and deeper into your mouth. He whines desperately when your hands find the buttons of his shirt, fingering them open until you can push it off his shoulders. The cool air hitting his skin makes his whole body shiver under your hands and he growls into your mouth. You can tell he’s about to start devouring you, so put your hand on his smooth honey chest and push him back. He whines out at the loss of contact, pouting at you with spit slick lips. God, you loved him so much.
“We need to take care of Lixie, Ji,” you murmur soothingly, though you’re also trying to catch your breath, ignoring the pulsing heat between your legs. He always got you like this, so hazy and desperate that you could barely think straight. But it was mutual, the two of you getting each other so stupid until he was ripping your clothes off, fucking you on any available surface, fingers digging into your skin like he wanted to crawl inside of you. It was Minho who would keep you guys in line, keeping a level head when you got like this.
But today you know you want to make the most of the pliant boy you had brought in, the thought of being on top of the situation with Minho giving you a heady high already, and you hadn’t even started yet.
When you look over, Minho’s already staring at you, his dark eyes swimming with arousal and pride. Felix is looking at the two of you with wide eyes, fascinated with the scene in front of him. You turn your attention back to him, giving him a lazy smile as you gently smooth your hands over his chest and up his shoulders, until you can push the shirt off his shoulders, too.
“Help me with my dress, Ji?” you sweetly ask and blink up at Jisung, who immediately springs into action, leaving wet kisses on your neck and shoulders as he slides the zipper of your dress down your back. Felix’s gaze races across your exposed body as soon as the dress slips to the floor before meeting your eyes with a blush.
“Can I undress you, Lixie?” You murmur and he just nods frantically, watching as you take a step closer to him and start undoing his belt, pushing his tight jeans down his thighs.
In the meantime, Minho drags Jisung to him, pulling him into a searing kiss. Jisung whines into Minho’s mouth as his body melts into his, clumsily undressing Minho. Felix’s brain is already foggy and for a moment, all he can do is watch Jisung and Minho make out, fascinated with Minho’s large hands on Jisung’s waist, the way he’s nipping at Jisung’s lower lip as Jisung undoes his pants and rubs his hand over Minho’s bulge.
But then you let your fingers dance over Felix’s lower abdomen, and his head snaps over to you. You cup him through his boxers and his lips open in a gasp that you swallow with a kiss, as you teasingly work your fingers into his waistband and push his boxers down. Once he is entirely bare, you break away from his eager lips and look down. He’s pretty, not the longest, but a nice length and girth that you know would fill you up just right. He looks like he’s begging to be touched, the tip all red and angry and leaking.
You hum in approval, letting one finger drag along the underside of Felix’s dick, and he whines. But you don’t give him any more, instead pushing him backwards until the back of his knees hit the bed and he falls down unceremoniously. You straddle his waist and he whines when his dick brushes against your soft thigh.
“Can I touch you? Please?” He’s staring at you so pleadingly that you smile at him.
“Good boy, asking for permission,” you purr and let your nails drag down his pecs slightly. “You may.”
It doesn’t take him a second before his hand is in your hair and he’s pulling you into his lips with a groan. He kisses you like a man starved, hands all over you as he pulls you flush against his chest. You can feel his hardness get trapped in between you and he whines at the friction. His lips travel down your jaw and to your throat, where he kisses and sucks at the sensitive skin until you’re whimpering. One of his hands finds your ass and he kneads it before letting his hand travel lower, his fingertips rubbing your core through your panties. You can’t help but keen at the touch, finding some relief in his gentle fingers.
“Don’t have too much fun without us,” Minho suddenly says from where he’s standing. His arm is firmly around Jisung, who’s sucking deep dark marks into Minho’s shoulder as Minho languidly strokes his dick.
“Join us, then,” you gasp out, grinding your hips down onto Felix’s fingers. Minho chuckles, removing his hands from Jisung, who stares up at him with glassy eyes.
Both you and Felix’s eyes are glued to Minho as he saunters over to the bed. He’s entirely naked, but he’s moving with the same confidence he always exhibits. He looks like a Greek God, broad, strong shoulders, gently tapered waist, thick thighs. His cock is hanging heavy between his legs, fully hard and leaking and it makes your mouth water. No matter how many times you see him naked, it takes your breath away every time.
“My eyes are up here, you know,” he scoffs out and you realise you and Felix had both just been staring at his body. Felix blushes, but you just roll your eyes.
“You love it.”
Minho hums and presses a kiss to your lips in passing, before he settles himself against the headboard. He looks at Felix and pats his lap.
“Come over here, little one,” he purrs out. “Back against my chest.”
You climb off Felix, whose eyes are still roaming all over Minho’s body, eyes nearly bugging out of his head. But somehow, on unstable hands and legs, he makes it to Minho, sitting down between his spread legs and gingerly leaning back.
Minho’s one hand starts gently stroking Felix’s arm while the other tips his head back so he can press his lips to Felix’s, licking into his mouth while his hands travel further and further south, until one of them wraps firmly around Felix’s dick.
Felix moans into his mouth, hips bucking into Minho’s hands as he finally gets the friction he’s been craving. Minho’s hand works skilfully and it’s making Felix dissolve into a twitching, moaning mess. But then he stops.
“Oh, oh no, please,” Felix whines out, hand pawing at Minho’s arm. Minho just chuckles at him again.
“Ji, baby, why don’t you come over and use your pretty mouth on our guest.”
Jisung, who had been standing where Minho left him, watching Minho and Felix, steadily stroking himself with his thumb in his mouth, nods eagerly and shuffles over to the bed, dropping to his knees readily.
He wastes no time and wraps his lips around Felix’s dick, eyes rolling into the back of his head when Felix moans. Minho still has Felix’s head turned towards himself, studying his face as Jisung pleasures him. You have to admit, Felix looks beautiful like that, all fucked out and pliable. Your hand creeps down and into your panties, dipping your fingers into the wetness that has been building for the last hours. You touch yourself gently, in the same rhythm that Jisung has set on Felix’s cock and it’s just enough to drive you a little bit mad.
“Ji, my darling, why don’t you prep this little boy so he’s ready to take my cock?” Minho asks sweetly, but demandingly, and Jisung whines before he pulls off and nods. He briefly gets up to grab the lube from the bedside table drawer before returning to the bed. Then he licks Felix’s cock one more time before he lets his nimble tongue run down Felix’s balls until it hits the tight ring of muscle.
Felix’s legs instinctively fall open, hips canting up to give Jisung better access, and Jisung takes the opportunity to push the tip of his tongue into Felix. He licks into Felix’s hole a few times before his lips come back to his dick, hands busy getting his fingers lubed up.
Felix is jelly in Minho’s arms, eyes rolled back into his head, legs spread, dick hard and leaking, a thin sheen of sweat on his chest.
When Jisung, with his tongue still swirling around Felix’s dick like it’s a lollipop, gently works a finger into Felix, the latter groans out so deeply and loudly you’re sure it’s audible three rooms down. But it’s so hot that you can’t care.
And it’s like Minho can read your mind when he coos out your name and crooks his finger to call you over. You pull your hands from your panties and crawl over to him on all fours, before he pulls you into a kiss. It’s hot and demanding, but it’s also comforting – it feels like his reminder that he loves you, despite what he’s doing to Felix, and it makes your chest ache with how much you adore him. When Minho pulls back, he takes your hand and brings it up to his lips. He sucks the two fingers that were just inside of you into his mouth with a groan.
Felix’s eyes are glued to you.
“You really like watching us, huh?” you ask with a smirk, and Felix just nods, little pants falling from his lips as Jisung fucks him open on his fingers.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he breathes out, but he cuts himself off and swallows down a moan.
“Don’t hold back, little boy, you need to tell us if we’re making you feel good,” Minho purrs out, fingers trailing along the collar on Felix’s neck. “Do you like Jisungie’s mouth? He’s got a real talent, don’t you think?”
Felix nods frantically, eyes rolling to the back of his head.
“Mhm … feels so, so good … ‘m already so close,” he presses out and you can see Jisung preen with the praise, swirling his tongue around Felix’s head before sinking down on him entirely as a reward. His hand presumably working more steadily now, too, because Felix is cursing and moaning even more. Minho shakes his head and you slip your fingers back into your heat, biting back a moan when they sink in with no resistance. Minho’s attention is back on Felix and Jisung now.
“Don’t let him cum, Ji baby. He’ll be cumming on my cock tonight. Slutty little baby, so demanding but already fucked dumb, huh?”
Felix whines again and nods, hazy, pleading eyes staring into Minho’s.
“Doing so well, Ji, baby boy,” Minho mumbles out, pride evident in the way he looks down at Jisung.
Jisung whines out as he pops off Felix’s dick. “I won’t last if you keep praising me like that,” he pants, wide eyes locking with Minho’s. You giggle at how ruined he looks.
Jisung jokingly glares at you, but his expression falters when he sees you have your fingers buried in yourself. You let your fingers swipe through your slick, and the lewd sound of it makes Jisung whine out in desperation.
“Lix is ready, can I please eat Y/Nies pussy, pleaseeee,” he pouts up at Minho, his lube slicked hand sliding over his own dick now as he waits for Minho’s permission, eyes darting over to you impatiently.
You sink two fingers into you with a sigh, making sure Jisung can hear the loud squelch. He whines out, hand squeezing his cock hard. Minho shakes his head, his own hand coming down to Felix’s dick that Jisung so readily abandoned.
“I give you some praise and all of a sudden, you stop what I told you to do, touch yourself without asking and are even making demands,” Minho scoffs, but his voice is softer than usual. “I’ll have to fuck the brat out of you after this, won’t I?”
Jisung’s eyes light up, licking his lips eagerly as he nods.
“You can punish me all you like. But please, she’s so wet,” he adds pleadingly, smirking at Minho.
“Fine,” Minho growls out and Jisung immediately gets up and pounces on you, pushing you onto your back, shoving his tongue into your mouth.
“Hey, my baby,” he mumbles in between kisses. He reaches behind you to undo your bra with one flick of his wrist, his devoted mouth never leaving yours.
You wind your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and sigh into him. “Hey, my love,” you whisper and he kisses you even harder. It feels almost too soon when he starts kissing from your mouth down your neck, nipping at one of your nipples, his sweet boba eyes looking up at you, before he slides down the rest of the way and slips your panties off your legs.
He presses one wet kiss to the inside of your thigh before he throws it over his shoulder and lets his pointer and middle finger swipe through your folds, parting them and then licking a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit. You sigh out a moan, your head falling to the side to watch Minho and Felix as Jisung builds a beautiful rhythm, sucking your clit and licking into your entrance.
Felix had turned in Minho’s arms, hovering over him briefly before kissing him so deeply it sends jolts of electricity all through your body. Minho’s big hands are all racing over Felix’s body, and the desperation in his movements makes you clench around nothing. Jisung chuckles as he feels it, slipping two of his fingers inside of you with ease, the fulness of it ripping a moan from your chest.
Felix pulls away from Minho’s, kissing down his body, just like Jisung had just done to you. His kisses are less practiced and more eager, but Minho doesn’t seem to mind, his abs flexing in anticipation.
Felix takes his time ogling Minho’s cock, eyes wide as he runs his hands over Minho’s thick thighs, fingers digging into the muscles there.
“So big,” he mumbles, “don’t know if it’ll fit.” And then he suckles the tip of it between his plush lips, looking up at Minho with his big brown eyes. You can see how much it affects Minho by how his eyes flutter shut, his hand instinctively threading into Felix’s hair.
Jisung hums appreciatively between your legs when he sees Felix, but you’re almost too far gone to notice anything. Jisung knew you like the back of his hand and when he was unfocused, like he was now, he had the habit of unconsciously doing every single thing you loved all at the same time, instead of spacing it out, driving you to the brink of overstimulation.
“Ji, oh my god,” you whine out, embarrassingly loudly. Minho curses next to you, his eyes flicking from where Felix was blowing him like his life depended on it to where you were falling apart in Jisung’s mouth.
“You gonna cum in my mouth, baby?” Jisung mumbles out against your clit and you nod fervently. He angles his fingers upwards so he’s brushing against your g-spot, his lips wrapping around your clit and you feel the knot in your belly tighten and tighten. Minho beside you tries his best not to buck into Felix’s mouth, but Felix doesn’t seem to mind, taking Minho in his mouth all the way with every bob of his pretty head, satisfied hums rumbling out of his chest.
It’s too much, Jisung’s skilled tongue and Minho falling apart next to you and your orgasm builds fast before it finally takes over your body, white heat ripping through you, wanton whines and curses tumbling from your lips as Jisung rides you through it with a happy moan.
Next to you, Minho pulled Felix off his cock in a panic as you came, wrapping a tight fist around the base of his cock as, eyes screwed shut as he did everything in his power not to spill all over his hands. Felix watches him in awe, whispering out a quiet “fuck” when Minho finally blinks his eyes open, pupils blown entirely. Minho looks at him a little sheepishly, but there’s a fire in Felix’s eyes.
He crawls back up to Minho and places Minho’s hand on the collar that’s still around his throat. He chastely presses his lips against Minho’s once before he stares into his eyes.
“Please fuck me, sir, and fuck me hard, I need it,” he whispers out with this deep voice and Minho’s eyes sparkle as his hand tightens around Felix’s throat.
“On your hands and knees,” he orders, and Felix climbs off him with an eager blush on his face.
After helping you ride out your orgasm, Jisung had crawled back up to you, kissing you gently as you came down, his body draped over yours. In your hazy state, it took you a second to realise that he was slowly rutting his hard cock into your heat, head slipping through your folds, now and then prodding at your entrance, little sighs falling from his lips.
“Ji,” you gasp out when he ruts into you so hard he nearly slips into you, pawing at his chest, half giggling, half panting with the need to be filled.
But suddenly, Jisung is pulled off you by his hair with a squeal, Minho’s hand wrapping around his jaw, mouth brushing over the shell of his ear.
“Enough brattiness for one night, from now on, you do what I say,” he spits out and Jisung whines but nods, as much as he can with the vice grip Minho has on his jaw. It doesn’t seem to satisfy Minho, a harsh slap landing on Jisung’s ass, making him yelp out.
“What was that?” Minho hisses.
“Yes, daddy, I’ll do whatever you want,” Jisung blubbers out, dick twitching where it hangs.
Minho nods and suddenly lets him go, making Jisung tumble forwards, catching himself next to you.
“On your back against the headboard,” he orders, and Jisung follows the order with an eager blush on his face. He settles back against the headboard and watches expectantly as Minho beckons you over to him.
You sit up and scoot over and he cups your jaw, pressing a dirty kiss onto your lips.
“Want to help me with this one, princess?,” Minho purrs out, and when you realise what he means, you can’t help but grin as you nod at him. “Let’s make him fall apart.”
You pull him in for a quick but dirty kiss before he nods for you to go over to Jisung.
Felix is patiently kneeling on the bed, cock hard and leaking, as he watches Minho put all the puzzle pieces into place. He watches you smirk at Jisung before you straddle him with your back to him, instead facing Felix, and sink down onto Jisung’s cock. The stretch is just right and you bite back a satisfied sigh, doing your best to focus on the task at hand.
Minho winds his fingers into the back of Felix’s collar and pulls him backwards until Felix is staring up at him. Felix swallows, Adams apple bobbing violently.
“You’re about to get what you’ve been begging for. You think you can handle it?” Minho asks, and Felix nods desperately.
“‘was made for this,” Felix mumbles out. “Been dreaming about it all week.”
Minho’s hands pull at the collar harder, and Felix moans out, eyes glossing over slightly.
“Yeah? Been jerking your cock to the thought of me stretching out your little hole?”
Felix hums, a lazy smile gracing his features.
“Shameless,” Minho chuckles out, before harshly shoving Felix forward and onto all fours, where Felix comes face to face with you, sitting pretty on Jisung’s dick – Jisung’s dick that is pulsing inside of you. His hands paw at your hips needily, begging you to move in a quiet voice.
But you ignore him, instead giving Felix a sweet little smile, letting your fingers trace his pretty face while Minho pulls out a condom from the nightstand (a detail that doesn’t escape you) before slipping it on and lubing himself up. He slips two fingers into Felix and Felix’s reaction is instant, hips pushing back onto Minho’s fingers, chasing the fulness.
“Fucking pathetic little cockslut,” Minho spits out, but you can see how much he loves it. You keep your eyes on Felix as Minho lines himself up and slowly pushes into Felix’s tight ass. Felix’s reaction right in front of your eyes is priceless – his arms are trembling, eyes rolling into the back of his head as a low groan rumbles from his chest.
“So … so big,” he groans out, mouth falling open when Minho experimentally ruts into him, a string of curses falling from his lips. You can’t help but clench around Jisung, making the latter curse out behind you, hips bucking into you in search of friction.
Felix pushes himself back against Minho and Minho takes the hint, snapping his hips into Felix’s ass deep and hard, punching a throaty moan out of Felix with every thrust. Minho slips his fingers into the collar and pulls at it slightly, restricting Felix’s airflow just a bit, and a shudder runs through him.
“Harder, harder,” Felix begs, his back arching, beautifully following the direction Minho is pulling him in.
And god, he’s loud. Felix’s deep, rumbling moans are bouncing off the wall, he’s not even trying to keep them in. He’s completely lost in the pleasure of it all and it turns you on so much you can’t help but start grinding into Jisung, who mewls out at finally getting the friction he needs, hands digging into your hips as he helps you along.
But then Minho lets go of Felix’s collar and Felix’s head falls forward, his glassy eyes locking with yours and you lean forward just enough to press a messy kiss onto his lips, licking into his mouth as Minho starts fucking Felix even harder. You let your fingers trace over his chest until you find one of his pebbled nipples, running your finger over it. It makes Felix’s entire body break out in a shudder, lips parting from yours to let out a guttural moan.
“Yes, God, yes, ‘m so sensitive,” he mumbles and you smile at him, before you gently pinch his nipple between your thumb and pointer finger. Felix spasms and seems to clench around Minho, judging by the groan Minho lets out.
“Good boy,” you whisper and Felix’s big, glassy eyes snap to you as he whimpers, and you swear it’s one of the prettiest things you’ve ever heard.
You pinch his other nipple before placing your fingers on his bottom lip.
“Be a good baby boy and suck,” you mutter out, and Felix opens his mouth immediately, lapping at your fingers so eagerly that you wish it was your clit he was sucking on. You’re still lazily rolling your hips onto Jisung, who is thrashing underneath you, the friction enough to make him so sensitive everything in him screams at him to flip you over and rail you into the mattress. But you are completely focused on Felix, cunt getting wetter and wetter with every one of Felix’s moans, just using Jisung; he tells himself to make a mental note to figure out why the fuck it turns him on this much that you are paying zero attention to him.
You’re blissfully unaware of Jisung’s turmoil, eyes fixed on Felix, whose tongue is still swirling around your digits, cheeks hollowing, basically blowing your fingers for his own enjoyment as Minho pounds into him. With every passing second, you see Felix slip more and more into the floaty space that you know so well, drool dripping past your fingers as he moans loudly around them.
You pull them out, smearing his spit over his pouty lips and Felix looks absolutely wrecked, mouth falling open as he whines out, “Hnng … please give me more, Mommy, I can take it. Mommy pleaeeeease”.
“Oh my god,” Jisung gasps out behind you, “what the fuck what the fuck what the …” and then his hips stutter and Jisung cums deep inside of you with a choked groan, Minho rumbling out a groan as his hips falter briefly. You grab Jisung’s hand from your hip as you ride him through it, while the other hand comes back to Felix’s mouth, shoving your fingers deep into him, making him moan around you.
When Jisung is spent, you focus all your energy on Felix, the need to guide him through his pleasure all encompassing. You make eye contact with Minho and he nods at you, a lot more frantically than earlier, and you know he’s close.
You lift yourself off Jisung gently, ignoring the sensation of his release dripping out of you, and tower over Felix. You wrap your hand around his throat, forcing him off his hands, arching his back as he holds on to your shoulders for dear life. The new angle has both him and Minho groan out, Minho able to rut into him even deeper. You tilt Felix’s head back just a little more.
“Look at me,” you purr out and Felix pries his eyes open, though you can see he’s barely there, tears collecting at the corners of his eyes.
“Open your mouth for mommy,” you order, and Felix complies, parting his lips and sticking out his tongue as you let a glob of spit drop from your lips into his mouth. Felix whimpers as he swallows it down, one tear rolling down his cheek.
“You close, baby boy?” you ask, and he nods desperately. “Then cum.”
You wrap one hand around his neck, squeezing the side of his throat as your other hand wraps around his throbbing cock. It only takes a few tugs of your hand before Felix is coming undone, choking out loud moans and a litany of ‘mommy’s as he spills thick ropes of cum over your hand.
Minho nearly folds when Felix clenches around him, but he has barely been able to think straight ever since you had slipped your fingers into Felix’s mouth. So as soon as Felix is entirely spent, Minho pulls out of him as gently as he can, guiding him to lie down, before he rips the condom off his cock and pounces on you, pushing you into the pillows next to Jisung, who’s still entirely fucked out and just watches you with a lazy smile.
There’s nothing hesitant about how Minho licks into your mouth, folds you in half and slips into you, bottoming out immediately. He groans of the feeling of you raw, all slick and hot with Jisung’s release. He fucks into you hard and fast, chasing his release at the same time as yours, which he can feel fast approaching. His fingers come down to rub your clit as he pounds into you at an angle that has him hitting your sweet spot mercilessly, punching wet moans out of you with every thrust.
“Holy fuck, you’re so fucking hot when you’re domming,” he mumbles into your neck. “Such a … fuck, such a good mommy.”
He curses out when you clench around him, the flutter of your walls telling him you’re nearly there.
“Love you so much, gonna breed you and make you a mommy one day,” he babbles out and before he can regret it you’re suddenly cumming around him, creaming all over his cock, and he lets go, the coil in his abdomen finally snapping as he shoots hot ropes of cum deep inside of you.
His face is buried in the tangle of your hair in your neck and he’s breathing in the heady scent of your sex-slick body as he’s catching his breath, helping ground him enough to be able to pull back. When he does, you’re smiling at him lazily.
“I love you,” you whisper and he smiles at you.
“I love you, too,” he murmurs back before gently pulling out. You sit up gingerly, shaking your hair out of your face.
“How about you take care of Ji, make sure he knows you love him, too, and I’ll clean up Felix,” you suggest and Minho nods, eyes glassy as he kisses you one more time, his fingers digging into the skin of your jaw as he pulls you into his mouth shakily.
But that’s what you do, Minho mumbling sweet nothings to Jisung as he gently wipes him down and presses kisses to his face, you gently cleaning up Felix before pulling him into a cuddle, gently coaxing him out of his subspace until he’s smiling up at you dopily.
“That was the best thing that has ever happened to me. Can we do it again?”
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series masterlist // skzms' general masterlist // ko-fi
taglist: @puppyminnnie @like-a-diamondinthesky @lyramundana @stanskzsstuff @unlikelysublimekryptonite @ayoitschannie @stolasisyourparent @notevenheretbh1 @yevene @mixtape-racha @queen-in-the-shadows @starsandrqindrops @cutiespaghetti @oreoqueen @kidrauhlschik @iam-theunknown @kookiesbunny @bbokari711 @vitrealisbunny @warren-thedarkangel @chlodavids @imzenning @queenmea604 @ririlinoriri @midmourn @moonlightndaydreams @noellllslut @xxpr3ttyk173rxx @aalexyuuuhm @seungminsfavoritegirlll @laylasbunbunny @krishastumblernow 🔖 taglist closed!
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mrsbarnesblog · 5 months
Note
Hi girl ❤️ inhope it's ok to send in a request. i thought of something where the reader is working at the Avengers Compound and trains new agents, but one of them grows fond of her and like creeps up on her or follows her around all the time. Soon Bucky noticed that and decides to help. As the guy then again waits up on you and gets too close for Bucky's liking, he steps in between and kisses you passionately, making the creep leave and takes you by surprise. But what started as only some help, continues in Bucky's bedroom, revealing hidden feelings and passion 😏 i hope this is ok with you ❤️
we could've done it earlier
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: +18❗️creepy men, protective Bucky, smut, friends to lovers, idiots in love, dirty talk, unprotected sex
Author's note: well, that was fun to write. I hope you'll like it and that I saw the vision right. thank you for the request💘
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You rolled your eyes again when you noticed that Kevin’s eyes stayed on your body for way too long. You had just finished another session of training with the new recruits from S.H.I.E.L.D. and everything was fine—most of them were really talented and eager to learn, but that one guy had acted super weird since the day Fury introduced you. 
He always gave you weird looks, tried to flirt with you during the training and you swore that he was following you around the tower because you “accidentally” bumped into him and ended up in the same room more times than you could count. 
You decided to forget about it for today and took a quick shower in the gym, and after changing your sweaty clothes, you went to the kitchen on Avenger’s floor to grab a snack. 
You didn’t even have time to look through the cupboards when you saw a figure in the corner of your eye walking towards you. 
“Mind some company?” Kevin stepped closer to you with that creepy smile on his face and scanned your body up and down once again.
“What are you doing here? It’s Avenger’s quarters; you shouldn’t be here.” You crossed your arms over your chest to hide from his stare. 
“Well, I thought they could make an exception for me, especially since my favorite trainer lives here.” He stepped closer and you instantly stepped back. Yes, you were one of the Avengers, but it didn’t change the fact that he was a man who clearly had bad intentions towards you, so your body and mind worked differently around him. “And I also thought we could do something together, if you know what I’m talking about.” 
“I don’t know what you are talking about, and I’m not interested in whatever you are suggesting. Please don’t overstep the line. I’m your trainer and nothing more.” You tried to talk firmly and confidently, even though your whole body was tensed from Kevin’s almost predatory stare. “I-I have a boyfriend. Don’t try to do anything.”
“You’re lying. I know that you want me. And I want you–” Kevin wanted to get closer to you, but a certain Super Soldier appeared out of nowhere, stood between you and him, and kissed you. 
Bucky was watching this whole scene from the beginning. He also saw how that guy was following you around and just staring at you shamelessly. 
Bucky had a crush on you since the day you met, but he didn’t try to change things between you, being too scared that you wouldn't ever talk to him again. At first, he thought that there were mutual feelings between you and Kevin because you were so sweet to everyone, but the more he paid attention, the more he noticed how uncomfortable you would get every time you spotted Kevin in the same room. 
So when Bucky saw him following you once again, and this time being even more persistent, he knew that he should save you. 
So he just stepped in and kissed you.
Was it stupid? Probably. Did he regret doing it? Not in the slightest way. 
Your whole body froze, and your mind was overloaded with the unknown feeling of Bucky’s lips and his hands on your face while he was slowly kissing you. He kissed you as if he had all the time in the world, and as if Kevin, who was clearly confused and angry, was not standing right behind him.
Bucky slightly pulled away, not letting go of your face, and looked back at Kevin. “Do you have a problem with my girlfriend?” His stare could scare anyone, and the way all the color washed away from Kevin’s made him feel weirdly satisfied.
He looked back at you, not missing how your pupils were dilated and your mouth was slightly open in shock, before he captured your lips in another kiss. Now it was not so sweet, though. Bucky was clearly dominating over you, biting your lip and then licking it with his tongue. 
You both didn’t notice how Kevin left. Too lost in each other’s touches, scents, and lips. It was addicting.
“I’m sorry for doing it without permission. Just wanted to scare him away from you.” Bucky mumbled against your lips, yet he didn’t move, not even an inch away from your body. Your eyes lowered to his lips, already craving to feel them again. And Bucky understood it straightaway. “Tell me to stop.” He knew that he was fucked up. Before, he was just observing you and trying to suppress his feelings, but now that he had finally touched and kissed you, he couldn’t hide it anymore. 
Your head was feeling fuzzy, while your hands were clenching onto Bucky’s shirt. You could barely understand what he was saying to you, but that familiar heat in your stomach appeared again, as it did every time he called you “doll” or smiled.
“Please don’t…” You whine, pulling him even closer. “I want you. I need you, Buck.” You kissed him this time, raising one hand to bury it in his fluffy and soft hair. Bucky moaned in your mouth when you slightly dragged your nails along his scalp. 
He gripped your waist with both of his hands and then let the metal one slide down to the back side of your thigh. Bucky mumbled a raspy “jump”, and you, without hesitation, followed his command, wrapping your legs around his waist. 
You both moaned when your clothed core met the hardness in his jeans. As if it were an instinct, you moved your hips, trying to do something to relieve that aching feeling in your body.
“Stop moving, or I’ll fuck you right in this kitchen, doll.” 
It was shameful how quickly you would’ve agreed to do that. 
After firmly settling you in place, Bucky went to his room without a struggle, carrying your weight and kissing the heated skin of your neck. As soon as the door was closed and you were gently placed on a perfectly made bed, you both became even more greedy for each other. 
Tugging clothes, pulling hair, and biting each other’s lips and skin. Bucky's firm body was pressing against yours, and you nearly drowned in the mattress. Bucky's cock became even harder when he finally got a good look at your face—half-closed eyes, smollen red lips, completely messed-up hair. You looked fucking majestic.
“You are so fucking beautiful, Y/N. Fuck, I wanted to do it for so long.” He said it harshly, trying to catch a breath. 
“Me too. Me too, Bucky… Oh God, it almost hurts.” You tried to move your lower body upwards to grind yourself on something, but Bucky just smirked at you and pinned you back to the bed. 
“Be patient and let me have my time with you, doll.”
“Not now, please. James. I need it. Just fuck me. We can do whatever you want later. ” You almost cried, your hands sliding under Bucky’s shirt and sending shudders down his back. Who was he to decline your request when you asked so nicely?
When he just slightly nodded to your words, you lifted up your arms, allowing Bucky to take off your oversized t-shirt. He almost choked on his saliva when he discovered that you were naked underneath it. 
“I love the twenty-first century.” Your laugh quickly turned into a moan when Bucky took one of your nipples into his mouth and pinched the other one with his fingers. The way he tried to be so gentle with his metal arm didn’t go unnoticed by you. He was always so careful not to hurt you in any possible way, but this felt much more intimate, deeper. 
After finally being satisfied with his work on your tits, Bucky trailed a way of kisses down to your leggings, slightly pushed the waistband down and teased you with his wet tongue, almost in the place where you wanted him the most. 
“Just take it off.” 
Bucky stood on his knees in between your legs and pulled down your pants and underwear, throwing them on the floor. “Dear fucking God. I’ll have my sweet time with her later.” He licked his lips, eyes glued to your wet folds. You just wined at his words, slightly pressing your legs together to exert some kind of pressure on your swollen clit. 
Bucky hesitated to take off his shirt. Being too lost in you, he almost forgot about his metal arm. But you were on his bed, naked, impatient, and only with lust written in your eyes. He knew you wouldn't judge him. 
Actually, you had never seen Bucky without clothes; only once did you catch him after the gym in the tightest possible t-shirt that revealed every little muscle on his chest and press. But holy shit, seeing him naked was shocking in the best possible way. His perfectly sculpted body, tanned skin, and slightly dingling silver dog tags made your mouth water with the need to kiss every centimeter of him. When your eyes shifted a little bit higher and caught the tormented skin on his shoulder, you felt nothing but sadness and pride for Bucky being so strong.
“You’re pretty.” The pink color spread to Bucky’s ears at your words. “And I want you all. Buck, you better hurry up and undress or I will have to handle this on my own." You slowly lowered your hand in between your legs to tease him and ease the tension in Bucky’s body, and you saw it working by the way his eyes were laser-focused on your actions.
“You’re playing with fire, doll.” He lowered his body on yours again, pushing away your hand, but instead pinned it above your head and kissed you. His free hand finally unbuckled his pants, and he did not bother taking them completely off—he just pushed them down slightly because he did not want to lose the sensation of being so close to you. “Oh fuuuck—” Bucky moaned as his cock touched your lower stomach and you could help but drag your eyes there. 
"There's no way you’re walking around with this…” You whispered in disbelief. 
“Mhm, you’ll get used to it.” He gave you a cocky smile. “Um, do you want me to find a condom? Fuck, I don’t have it.” The worry appeared in Bucky’s face and he looked around the room, as if the box could just magically appear somewhere. 
“No-no, Bucky, just fuck me. Please. I’m on birth control. I need you in me right now.” You were too desperate, wrapping your legs around his body and pushing him closer. The tip of his hard cock slipped across your pussy and you both hissed at the feeling. 
Bucky nodded more to himself and finally reached in between your bodies, gave himself a few pumps and started pushing inside of you. The stretch was almost painful, but at the same time, it was the best thing you had ever felt. 
He couldn’t hold it inside anymore. As soon as you took every inch of him, Bucky started moving in a steady rhythm. He lost himself in the way he fit so perfectly into you. He was fucking you without mercy. You gripped his shoulder with your free hand, while the non-stop moans escaped your mouth with every movement. Your body was jumping up and down on the bed; your eyes rolled back in pleasure and not a single thought flashed through your head. 
“So good for me. You’re taking me so well, doll. Just like that.” He was practically splitting you apart with his cock, but it seemed like you became even wetter with every second. If you weren’t too lost in pleasure, you would be ashamed of the way you made a total mess on his cock and thighs. 
Bucky, on the other hand, did not seem to mind; he kept pounding into you, sensing how you clenched tighter around him as you got closer to the orgasm. He freed your hand and grabbed your face so you would stay focused on his face. 
“Tell me how good you feel, baby. Your sweet juice is practically soaking my bed.” He said it without losing the speed of his thrusts or breaking eye contact. 
“So good– Bucky! Oh my fucking God.” You moaned through greated teeth, barely being able to keep your eyes open. 
“Are you going to cum, sweet girl? Gonna milk my cock?” His face got closer to yours, so your lips barely touched when his was talking. You wanted to cry, moan, scream, or do everything all at once when the pure bliss washed over you. “Ye-e-es, that’s it, baby. Take it all, fuck!” 
Bucky pushed his cock into your spasming pussy a few more times before he groanted somewhere near your ear and you felt the hot liquid covering your insides. You both were heavily breathing, clinging closer to each other. You felt too hot and sweaty; the feeling of Bucky’s heavy body covering your smaller form was so calming and safe. Bucky hummed into your neck when you wrapped your hands around his shoulders and lowered his flesh one to sofly trace the delicate skin of your thigh. 
“I can’t believe that we wasted so much time. We could’ve done it earlier.” Bucky rolled to his side, dragging you with him. He pushed your hair out of your face, and his hand stayed on your cheek for a few seconds while he was admiring you. 
“We’re idiots.” You giggled and bit your lip, looking at Bucky.
“We totally are. But I won’t let you go again.”
You were just staring at each other, smiling. It felt so natural to be in his arms, surrounded by his scent and warmth, as if it were supposed to have happened a long time ago. Bucky couldn’t help but move forward to capture your lips in another sweet kiss. 
Everything finally fell into place. 
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writtnbyhan · 5 months
Text
NFWMB.
PAIRING: bang chan x female!reader
TAGS: protective chan, idol!chan, non-idol!reader, established relationship.
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WORD COUNT: 1945
PROMPT: person a gets into a heated argument with someone. person b starts threatening them, so person a picks up person b and carries/drags them out of the room before anyone gets hurt.
warnings: what the prompt says, lol — arguments (not between chan and reader). very very minor violence (arm grabbed), bruising, swearing. Let me know if I missed a warning.
author's note: well, baby's first post. I really hope someone likes this ? my goal is to participate in nanowrimo in my own way so expect weekly posts from yours truly. I was nervous about what to write about bc of it being my first post but I needed to write something or I'd never do it. starting with chan feels right, though I wish I can get to write more fluff soon 😭 this was fun tho! I really like protective and possessive chan&lt;3
You didn’t intend for him to hear. Mostly, because you thought you could handle things on your own, but also because you knew it would somehow end up like this.
You have been visiting the building where the boys work for as long as you remember being in their lives. It’s not your fault, given that they spend almost every waking moment there, working. And the one whose time was taken the most by it happened to be your boyfriend. It was a Saturday and he was working, which wasn’t uncommon, but it also wasn’t healthy. You let it slide sometimes, when you knew time was pressing on him and he needed to be there, for his own peace of mind. But everything was ready for the comeback, there was absolutely no reason for him to spend his weekend locked up in that so-familiar room.
So, you did the only logical thing: went there to drag him out, knowing only you where capable of doing so. No amount of puppy eyes from his kids could do what you could with just asking — you were his girlfriend, after all, it was expected that he’d have a soft spot for you.
You felt the problems creeping on you as soon as you stepped foot in the building. There were new people there, new workers. You hated when new staff started working, because they were still too nosy, and because they would ask too many question, some of which you wouldn’t be able to answer without one of the boys by your side to prove your credibility. It was okay, though, you could only imagine how many girls could go to the front desk and claim what was your truth — “I’m looking for my boyfriend”.
Luckily, the girl at the front desk, Sun Hee, already knew you. She only smiled at you when she saw you enter the building, and her tired smile should’ve been warning enough. You walked to her with a matching smile of your own, she knew you were there to pick up a overworking boyfriend, but you still needed to sign your name in the records.
“hi, lovely! what’s got you tired today?” you asked, curiosity so strong you couldn’t help asking.
“new staff’s first weekend. sometimes I wonder how they got hired in the first place”, she answers truthfully, sighing. She sends you a look you know it’s a warning — beware, idiots walking around feeling entitled!
You sigh, too. That’s going to be troublesome, especially today.
“hope I don’t get to met them today, at least until I find Chan. The boys didn’t warn me, or I would have brought one of them with me”
She showed a sympathetic smile, nodding.
“Prince charming is on studio 3, same as always”, she rolls her eyes playfully.
It says something about your overachieving boyfriend that not only the staff knows where he is all the time, but also that you have almost made friends with said staff. God, you needed to convince him to spend less time working.
After thaking Sun Hee and promising to chat more later, you walked to the elevator, setting to find Chan. You could amost picture him — black hoodie, black beanie hiding his messy curls, and headphones in. You smiled at the image in your head, a much too familiar one, one you loved so much.
Smile still present in your face, you stepped out of the elevator on the corresponding floor, checking different doors that had lights on. You were here to pick up Chan, yes, but you didn’t rule out finding Hyunjin or Felix overworking themselves too. The blondes were quick to follow their leader to the building any day, claiming they always “needed” the extra practice. Jeongin would be just as annoying as they were to you, if it wasn’t for his baby status, which meant everyone took a little more care of him (Minho more than anyone, checking that the boy didn’t overwork himself regularly).
Of course, checking every room as if you didn’t know where you were going to may have looked suspicious, you will give the man that. You were glad he was doing his job, just — well, maybe you were at the wrong place at the wrong time, or maybe he was.
“Excuse me, miss, who are you and where are you going?” He was at least 30 cm taller than you, and he was almost as buff as Changbin. You weren’t intimidated at first, you knew your presence had been cleared for, you had a right to be there, and you had got through the entrance desk, so he must know you were allowed there, right? Maybe he was just trying to help.
“Oh, hi! I’m Y/N. I’m looking for my boyfriend and checking to see if one of his friends is here as well”, you explained.
He stepped closer, almost invading your personal space. You took two steps back.
“Who are you looking for?”, he was eyeing you as if you were suspicious, a threat even. You, who was dressed in a skirt and probably looked like a mouse next to him.
“My boyfriend”, you repeated, “Christopher Bang Chan. He is in one of those studio rooms”, you added matter-of-factly.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to escort you outside. You shouldn’t be here.” The man said, loudly, like he wanted to be heard. Ah, you thought, he is one of the new ones. It was common, you have seen it happen one too many times — new staff is always trying to prove themselves as good.
You smiled, though you were a little intimidated now. After all, you were alone in a hallway with the man who kept getting closer.
“Why is that? I am allowed here”, you tried to keep calm.
“Look, I don’t know how you passed the front desk, but fans should not be inside the building!”, the man yelled at you, his arm reaching out until he could take you by the wrist, his hold tight enough to bruise.
“Hey! You’re hurting me, stop it. Let me go!” You started struggling, trying to force your arm out of the man’s hold.
“Stop fighting or I’ll call security”, he threatened. You were about to tell him to do so, you’d wait by him until security came there and showed the man that your info was in the system and you were, actually, allowed there. You didn’t get a chance, though, for your boyfriend’s voice reached your ears as soon as the man stopped talking.
“You let her go or I’ll call security myself”, Chan’s voice showed his anger, and as he got closer you saw the determined look in his eyes that made you worry a little. You didn’t doubt Chan was capable of hitting the man if he didn’t let you go right now.
The man, apparently, didn’t notice that, for he did not let go of your wrist.
“I’m so sorry, sir, I’ll have her removed from the building immediately, I don’t know how she got inside.” He was tugging at your wrist, to which you kept quiet. If you expressed how much it hurt, the situation could escalate more than you wanted it to.
“She got inside because she’s allowed to. Now, I said: let her go.” Chan’s voice was ice cold, almost spitting the words at the man’s face. Finally, your arm was free, and you rushed to take your own wrist so as to cover the red marks, evidence of the strong hold the man had on you.
“Why doesn’t she have a pass, then?”
“She doesn’t need one because she’s not a guest. Did you even care to ask about that or check the system? You know, that type of irresponsible behaviour could get you fired — you can’t just go around the building threatening and grabbing people by force!” Chan’s voice got louder near the end.
“It’s okay”, you quipped, putting a hand in Chan’s chest as an attempt to calm him down. He was protective, you knew as much, but he was also a lovely person who you knew didn’t want to get anyone fired. Still, you knew he’d do something like that for you if you asked for it.
That was a wrong move, apparently, because it meant letting him see the marks on your arm.
“what the fuck?” his words were whispered, but it was obvious the anger that came with them. “Man, what is wrong with you? You should have checked before bruising her arm like that! What gives you the right to decide who is and isn’t allowed here?! That’s the front desk’s job, if she’s on the fucking third floor, then I think it’s fucking obvious she passed security. I need your name for I will have to file a complaint about this, grabbing someone like this is violent and no excuse of security can make it right because you are not supposed to even touch here — if you think she is not allowed here, you call security, you do not bruise my girlfriend’s arm.”
Chan’s voice is loud, and he is so close to the man you could tell it is some kind of threat, or maybe show of strenght. The man’s jaw was tense, as if he was ready to argue with the idol himself. You looked around the hallway, not knowing what to do or how to stop this. The man that had grabbed your arm clearly felt too entitled for his own good, and you worried that he might try to turn things physical.
Lucky for you, he didn’t even get a chance to answer before you heard a door open and close quickly, someone rushing out of one of the practice rooms.
You think you have never been happier of seeing the freckles in Felix’s face.
“Chan, everything okay?” sunshine boy asked, putting his arm around you as soon as he was close enough. His voice seemed to get Chan out of whatever state he was in, for he took a few steps back, still not breaking eye contact with the other man.
“Yeah, this dude just grabbed y/n’s arm and bruised her wrist because it’s apparently his first week here and he already feels too entitled.”
Felix looks at you, looking for something in your eyes, before getting closer to his friend.
“Okay, let’s go grab our things and go home to see if she needs to put some ice on her wrist”. He doesn’t let Chan answer before taking his hand with his smaller one, intertwining his fingers and almost dragging him out of there. You’re quick behind them, taking Chan’s other hand to give him some peace of mind.
Felix looks back at you and you smile in thanks. You know your boyfriend is way too protective, but a situation like this had never happened before. It’s good to know he’d do anything to defend you, but you still didn’t want him to get in a physical fight in his workplace.
“Don’t you dare think this gets any of you out of the hook for working on one of your free days, boys.” You reprimand them, hands still intertwined while entering the studio. Chan’s calmer now, his cheeks blushed with what you guess is something akin to embarrassement; you know he doesn’t like getting like this, but sometimes his emotions overpower him. You kiss his cheek, deciding to not comment on the subject until he does so himself. After all, you achieved what you came here to do — collect whichever stray kid had wandered their way to work on a weekend and get them home.
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