#motion sensor light bar | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

definefaulty · 20 days ago

Text

gym-bro oc x male reader

~mlm nsfw, top male reader, size difference (reader is thinner), public (in a gym lol), slur (f-word, used lightly)~

he’s your older brother’s best friend, a tall jacked guy with huge arms, and legs. he comes over all the time, not really talking to you beyond saying hi, one time asking where another bathroom is. but damn he’s eye candy, usually wearing a tight t-shirt and short-shorts, the fabric hugging his muscles to show off. his face is hot too, straight out a movie, and his eyes always look so flirty, so confident. you’d be lying if you said he hadn’t made some appearances in dreams, waking up hard as hell.

at some point your brother had left in the evening suddenly, mumbling something about a girlfriend? you guess she was upset about something and he rushed out, and then there was that knock on the front door. you were always the one to answer it cause your brothers a lazy ass, and you could even recognize the sound. when you opened the door you found him standing there as usual, hands in his pockets and a backpack on one shoulder, his lips moving to smirk at you, looking down.

“oh, hey bud.”

they were supposed to go the gym that night, some twenty-four-seven one thats empty during the late hours, and your brother never told him he had to switch plans. such a guy. feeling bad you had invited him in anyway, sat him on the couch and got him a glass of water. talking on the couch together is when you finally learned his name is Michael, he tells you to call him Mike. he learns yours too and flashes a bright smile at you, that has you feeling like you're floating a bit. he ends up inviting you to the gym with him, feeling your shoulders and arms and saying he could help you out, y’know, and yeah staying up so late was not your plan but the prospect of watching him lift weights? hot and sweaty? maybe even doing squats? so you said sure! and changed into some gym clothes and he drove you there.

the parking lot is as deserted as he claimed, sparse lights are on at the front entrance. the night air is cool and calm as you both walk through the street and enter, met with the hum of fluorescent lighting and a slight smell of sweat. there’s a scan by the archway to enter the gym proper, which unlocks some closed doors, and he uses his phone to put a guest with him. he leads you down the walkway where you survey the rows of equipment, totally empty. lights turn on as you walk by motion sensor, and stopping inside the mens locker room he deposits his backpack, taking out a water bottle.

back out the locker room Mike finds a clear space and starts you both off to warm up. it consists of a lot of jumping jacks, where you get to watch his tits bounce behind his T’ and some stretches, his warm hands holding your waist pushing you forward to reach your toes. your breathing is already getting heavy, more because of how close he is than the exercises.

then you move to the weights, walking around the bench press. Mike lays some weight onto the bar for himself to slide under.

“just stand at the head there,” he explains, settling down on his back and situating his grip on the bar.

“sure,” you have to clear your throat, standing above him.

you’re too aware of how close your crotch is to his face, his eyes focusing on the bar. he breathes deep and focused, lifting the bar up and beginning his reps. unsure if you’re supposed to he spotting, or something, you just watch the flex in his arms, and how his pecs push together on the up, sweat forms along his forehead and neck, tantalizingly dripping down his popping veins and flexing muscles. you swallow, trying to get your gaze off as you feel blood to start to move down. it doesn’t help when your eyes land on his spread legs, thick thighs flattening on the bench, his shorts revealing much of his skin. you instead look away at the empty space of the gym, trying to remind yourself where you are.

you’re stirred back to Mike when he places the bar back with a metallic clang, breathing hard. he sits up and turns to you with a smile.

“wanna give it a go?”

you clear your throat, stepping back from the bench, “yeah, sure.”

he gets himself off the bench, removing most of the weight on it. you can't help staring at the sweat collecting on the back of his shirt, running down the muscles on his back. he places the last weight down on the stack nearby, patting the bench.

"here ya' go."

laying down where he just was a second ago has your skin rising, feeling his warmth on your back. you place both hands on the bar mostly trying not to stare as he stands over you, his crotch over your face and his pecs standing out from this position. its then you notice how visible his dick is, and realize he might not be wearing underwear.

"put your hands like this," he says, moving yours.

his hands are rough and warm, making you jump slightly as he touches you. he keeps his hands close to yours as you lift the bar and start to bring it down, the weight making your arms and chest burn, the movement also sends more blood down, starting to fill your dick out. you try to focus on just your arms, clenching your muscles to distract from whats happening down there, but he watches you closely, squating down a little to follow the bar, his crotch coming closer to you.

"yeah, good job," he says, "couple more."

you grunt with the effort, the burn starting to be too much and just about get the bar back on the legs, letting your arms drop with fast breaths. he chuckles deeply above you, leaning on one hip with his eyes cast downward. everything is making it so difficult to not have a boner.

"i think you could some more."

you sigh loudly, furrowing your eyebrows at him, "i can't!"

"trust me, you just need some," your jaw drops as he pulls the front of his shorts down slowly, his cock spilling out above you, "motivation."

"we're..." your mouth waters, heart pounding so hard it kinda hurts, "we're in the... someone could see!"

"nah, relax," his voice is smooth, he squats down a bit and presses his hardening dick to your cheek, "no one's here, and trust me, they won't find out."

you can't find the words to even argue, and when he drags his cock into your mouth you wouldn't be able to say them. instead your tongue laps at the head of his dick, getting under his foreskin, he hums with the stimulation, low and gravelly, and pushes himself further into your mouth. you moan around him, hands reaching up to grab his hips, moving him forward to fuck your face. he pushes further, his cock hitting the back of your throat, you breath through your nose, smelling the musk from his ballsack as it drags on the front of your face, his shorts are dropped now, your hands move over his asscheeks that you can just about see, massaging the meaty mounds. he groans loudly throwing his head back, feeling the bitter taste of pre cum in your mouth and his cock filling your throat. you start gagging and he pulls out, a thick string of spit connecting the end of his cock to your mouth. he breathes heavily, flicking the strings of saliva and cum onto your face.

"okay, four more reps."

you huff, feeling your lips swelling and your throat used, "really?"

"yes, really," he laughs, stroking his cock above you, "this will be fun."

with a rush of determination you grab the bar, and he moves over you again, his wet cock dangingly right above your face, and his thighs around your head. your cock is fully tenting your pants, your pulse rushing blood around at top speed. he spots you as you lift the bar once again and try to speed through the reps, your arms a bit shaky but as he squats to follow you his dick is long enough that you lick the tip, and he laughs.

"don't rush it!"

you laugh, and push through the fourth rep, loudly putting the bar on again. Mike leans down to kiss you, your mouths colliding in a sloppy spit filled mess, your tongues meeting in the middle as you hold his neck. he pulls of with a gasp, his lips wet, and stands again to put his cock in your mouth, you take it with more eagerness, hallowing out your cheeks and wrapping your tongue around it, humming so he feels the vibration. he holds the sides of the bench, using the leverage to start thrusting into your throat, his balls slap your nose as he loudly moans into the empty gym.

"fucking good faggot," he growls, "thats a good mouth.."

you fight through the gags, grabbing his cheeks again, pulling them apart and then pushing together, watching it over the obsceneness of his balls flying in and out of view. his words fuel a fire in your chest, determined to get him under you next. he pulls away and you gasp for breath, sitting up and wipping the drool all over your chin, you meet eyes as you do, both of you grinning.

"you should do your second set, don't you think?" you tilt your head to the side, faining an innocent smile despite your flushed face and abused throat.

he nods smiling, "of course."

he picks his shorts back up, his hard cock pressing down his thigh, the tip sticking out the end. he trades places with you laying down again, neither of you bothering to actually put more weight on. he grabs the bar as you get ontop of him, you gulp, nerves dancing in your stomach. he winks at you as he starts, and you steel yourself to tug your pants down, getting your cock out your underwear. he breathes hard and slow, his eyes totally focused on your member, you don't have to squat down as much as him, dragging your tip around his handsome face, over his lips, where his tongue darts out to lick the underside of your dick. it sends a shudder through you, your eyes darting to make sure the gym is really empty, before you look down to watch your cock sink into his waiting mouth, in time with him moving the bar down. you groan, feeling his mouth contract around your girth, grabbing the sides of his face you push it all the way in, enjoying the feeling of your ballsack on his face, pushing your pelvis nearly flat against his face. his moans vibrate around your cock making your eyes roll, and you start moving up and down, reaching forward to grab his pecs, massaging his hard nipples through his thin shirt.

you give him a moment to breath, still moving the light weight up and down. you stroke yourself as you move forward a bit for him to suck your balls, his tongue darts around to flick across your hole, and you drag your cock across his tongue sticking out, smacking it on his mouth. then you pick up a pace of fucking it, watching your cock bulge in his throat, he gags around you as you get rougher, feeling the slimy warmth of his throat milking your cock. he smacks your thigh to signal you, standing back up your cock drags a thick amount of saliva with it, mixed in with your pre cum. he gasps, placing the bar back, tears running down his face, you coo at him.

"sorry, too much for you, big boy?"

he shakes his head, face flush, you can see a wet spot forming in his shorts, "no, you can keep using me."

"that what you want? you want your friend’s little brother to mess you up?" you stroke yourself to his face, your mind darkening with lewd ideas.

"yes—yes, please."

you feel yourself harden more, moving around him quickly to straddle him, getting yourself under the bar you quickly move his shirt up and over, him lifting your arms to let you. grabbing the meat of his pecs you push them together to sandwich your cock inbetween, his skin is hot and smooth, sweat adding to the lubricant of his saliva all over your cock. you thrust yourself between his pecs, the tip of your dick meeting his mouth where he kisses it, sticks his tongue out to lick it.

"fuck, your tits feel good," you moan, he nods and you notice his hand moving as masturbates behind you, "big slutty tits, all for me right?"

you thrust forward farther, letting your cock move into his mouth, basically sitting on his chest now, you throw your head back and moan into the air, inching forward to get your cock in deeper. your thighs rest on the sides of his head, and you grip his hair, keeping his head flat as you start fucking into his head, the base of your cock moving over his tongue, wet gags filling the gym.

"who's the fag now? isn't it you? my bitch!" you smile devilishly down at him and he moans even more.

you pull out his mouth, feeling yourself almost get too close. he coughs and sits up carefully, you feel his cock press against your ass as he does and your back hit the bar. he grabs your face and drags you down for more kissing, you taste your own salty pre cum in his mouth, running your tongue over his. you both pull back with a gasp, his eyes staring into yours as you both take a moment to catch your breath.

"how about," he says between gasps, "we do squats, and you spot me?"

you laugh a bit, understanding where this game is going.

the gym is smelling of spit now, but you two move over to the squat rack with tents in your pants, his shirt slung over his shoulder. you two take a swig from his water bottle, the water trickles down his jaw and it’s even more erotic than it would have been an hour ago.

he doesnt put a lot of weight on the machine, because obviously this is not going to be a strength workout. he looks at you a bit shyly from the side, as he drags his shorts down and kicks them off, now stark naked in the fucking gym. you shake your head looking around you two again, palming your cock. he stands under the bar and gets it up, clearing his throat.

"just, stand behind me, y'know."

"i got it."

you get close behind him, letting your eyes wander over his broad shoulders by your face, down his back where it slims down, and then his sculpted fat cheeks, where you decide to kneel down to their level.

"go ahead, then."

he squats down, his cheeks spreading to reveal his hole, pink and puckered, smooth as his chest is. you waste no time in burrying your face in, your tongue lapping his hole. he gasps, getting low in his squat, then standing back up, you stay kneeled, wipe some drool off your chin.

"keep going."

he nods, squatting down again, you grab his cheeks when he gets low, shoving your tongue into his hole tasting his sweat, your tongue gets in only a bit before he stands again, his legs shaking a little. he breathes hard, squats again, your face meets his ass as planned and you prod his hole with a finger at the same time, getting another gasp from him.

"fuck," he whines as he stands, "i want your cock already."

"patience," you say teasingly.

when he goes down again you shove your finger in, he groans at the intrusion and you watch with amusment as your finger drags out his tightness, you repeat this as he squats more, getting his hole ready for your cock. eventually you decide, fuck it, literally, and drop your pants as he reaches the height of a squat, and starts going down, you plan on going slow, following him up to get it in, but when he gets to where your cock is you guess you got the height wrong with how low you are, and your cock sinks all the way in.

"fuuuck!" he moans, "keep—keep it in!"

"oh, fuck," you move with him, wrapping your arms around his torso you both stand from a squat.

his walls crush your dick, squeezing so tightly the pleasure is almost painful, you raise to the tips of your toes, stretching to keep most of your cock in. his own dangles between his legs, pre cum starting to drip out of it. he squats back down and you follow, the both of you moaning, your face next to his. his whole body feels hot and wet with sweat, your cock getting grinded into and pushed further inside his guts.

"fuck, feels so good," he whines, his legs and arms shake.

"probably should," you have to suck in through your teeth as he stands, "put that bar back."

"yeah," he says breathlessly, his mouth hanging open.

you two move back together to do so, he steps under it and leans his arms over the bar, arching his back and sticking his butt out.

"fuck me, please," he moans, looking at you over his shoulders, his eyes are hungry and he shakes his ass, both globes wobbling tantilizingly.

you breath out of your mouth, having to rise up a little to get it in. when the head of your cock breaches again you both moan, eyes rolling. he holds onto the bar for dear life, you clutch his hips and start driving your own, his cheeks bouncing with your thrusts. the lew sounds of skin slapping fill the gym, along with your moans.

he mumbles inchorently, his face laying on the bar, "fuck my pussy—fuck my pussy-"

his face is still so manly looking, his voice deep, big muscles and frame, split on your cock and moaning like he's in heat. you grab the bottom of your shirt and bite on it, hands bruising his skin. his ass sucks your cock back in everytime you pull it out, slamming your hips forward. you groan and lay forward on his back, letting your shirt fall out your mouth to bite on his shoulder, running your tongue over his skin and sucking. you hug him from behind, kissing more over his shoulders, and reach down to grasp his cock, sliding his foreskin up and down. his moans get quicker and higher, and you feel his legs start to bend. you stand up again, slowing your thrusts, having to clench your ass together to keep from cumming. his pussy clenches as you drag yourself out, his hole gaped and winking at you, he lets out a low groan, hanging onto the bar by his arms and letting his hips stick out more.

"i have another idea," you say between breathes, picking your pants up but leaving your cock hanging over the waist.

you grab his clothes and bottle, as he huffs standing up. sweat has collected along his forehead, his eyes wet, his big chest heaving with his breaths, a string of cum leaking from his cock onto the mat. you shake your head and sigh, pointing towards a chest press by the locker room. he lets a breath out, standing with his arms on his hips, you smile to yourself, he'd be like an athelete mid competition, if he wasn't naked and having sex.

he settles down onto the machine, "put some weight on it, i wanna see those tit's work," you say and wink at him.

he blushes a bit, moving the lever lower. he's still naked and you get on your knees between his, he looks down at you almost shy from his position, you wonder where that confident smug act went, you figure you fucked it out of him.

"go ahead," you tell him, and grab his cock, slurping up a string of cum from it.

"okay," he whispers.

he looks up as if to focus, moving the sides of the machine forward, the view is as is good as you hoped, his pecs flexing together with effort, veins popping in his neck. you swallow his cock, dragging your tongue around it and start slurping loudly around him, your other hand pumping your own dick.

"oh fuck," he breathes, each movment getting a exhalation as your head bobs up and down on him.

you moan staring up at him, his cock is hard as a rock in your mouth, the weight lifiting make his pulse quicken with every push and everytime his cock pushes into your throat.

you let your cock go to get your fingers in his ass again, having to squirm them in under his balls. his head falls back, his body covered with sweat, probably getting the seat super wet. you move your fingers as much as you can, burrying your nose in his pelvis with a deep breath.

"fuck i'm close," he exclaims, his thighs spreading and he moves forward, shoving his cock further.

you fight the gag coming on, getting your head higher and quickly moving up and down in a long slurping motion. you dig your fingers inside as deep as they go, pressing forward on his prostate, trying to milk him dry.

its then that you both hear the front door open, literal feet from the entrance to where anyone can see you.

you both jump, making wide-eyed contact for a second, before you dart for the clothes and he runs into the locker room, you're right behind him, making sure the door closes gently.

through the gap you're just in time to see your brother walking in, looking around the gym.

you shut the door, both on the verge of laughing and panic, your cock still hanging. you turn to Mike who's also panicked, and gasping for breath.

"it's my brother!" you whisper.

his eyes widen more, leaning forward, "what? shit," he looks to the side, his head probably spinning.

"Mike?" you hear your brother calling, walking closer to the locker room.

you quickly scan around, the lockers are pretty tall and did look spacious, it's a crazy idea but with no time to think you throw one open and drag Mike inside by his wrist, getting the door closed as you hear the locker room door open.

"you in here?"

you hear footsteps as he walks in, passing the locker you're both squeezed inside, probably going to check the showers further inside.

it's a bad moment, stuck in this close space, both of you trying to hold your breath, but you look down to his ass, exposed and in front of your cock, against your better judgment (not that you still have that) you grasp your shaft, lick your lips, and line yourself up at his entrance.

you look up to find him looking back at you, his big shoulders trapped between the locker walls, he bites his lower lip, slowly sticking his ass out to you and covering his mouth with his hand.

you'd swear if it wouldn't be so loud, and start pushing in.

his ass sucks you right in and you quickly get your shirt off to stick it in your mouth, laying your hands on his waist again. you move agonizingly slow, watching his eyes roll above you as your cock stretches and fills him, your jaw clenching down on your shirt to stifle any moans. when you bottom out he looks back down at you with desperate eyes, scared and horny.

your brother sighs loud as fuck, annoying as always, and stomps by the locker you’re in leaving the locker room.

you both wait a bit, cupping his sweaty ass and moving what small amount you can for some relief. his hole clenches and unclenches your cock, he moans behind his hand with his eyes shut.

its a minute before he opens the locker door, checking side to side to make sure the locker room is empty. you walk out behind him, inspecting how much you just drooled into your shirt.

"think he's gone?" Mike asks, looking back to you, then down, you see him gulp.

"probably," you kick your pants off, tosing them behind you in the locker with the other clothes, "lemme breed you."

he moves you to lay down on the bench in the center of the room, straddling your hips. he frots your cocks together and leans down to kiss you, more sloppy making out as the buzz of nerves at almost getting caught fade, into the wet bliss of his mouth.

he bites your lip as he pulls back, letting it go and shifting forward to get your dick under his hole. he sits on it slowly, his head tipping backward as he leans back onto his hands.

you groan leaning back with your hands holding your head, watching your cock disappear under him. he starts riding you, his big cock bouncing up and down, slapping onto your stomach and against his abs.

"i've wanted this so bad," he whines.

"me too," your breathlessly reply, "you feel so fucking good."

you watch his pecs bounce as he moves, his thighs pumping with the effort. your hips thrust up to meet him, a beautiful expression of pleasure on his face, jaw hanging open.

your balls tighten, your core flexing as you feel your orgasm approaching, not fighting it anymore.

"i'mma cum soon," you groan.

"yes—fuck yes, cum in me!"

you sit up, crashing into his mouth, and move kissing down his jaw, sucking on the side of his neck. he holds your head there, his arm around your shoulders, moaning your name with feverish need.

your abs burn thrusting up into him, holding his ass in both hands, with another thrust your eyes roll back, your load shooting inside him. you bite on his skin, burying your face into his pecs as your orgasm rocks through you, cum unloading through your dick. you fall back onto the bench, spent, as Mike rides your cock more, squeezing his nipples, the overstimulation has you yelling his name, hands squeezing his thighs, his eyes are rolled back chasing a hands-free orgasm.

"i’m cumming baby!" he yells, "i'm cumming oh my god—"

his noises are so loud and high pitched, and with a final landing of his ass on your hips, your cock getting abused in his cunt, cum squirts out his cock without being touched.

his load lands on your face and you taste the bitterness on your mouth, it coats your chest and stomach in his warm semen. you're both gasping hard, and he lays down ontop of you, your softening cock still inside, mixing his cum between your chests.

you take a moment just holding him there, the post nut clarity of everything you've done just now hitting like an ice bucket. you swallow dryly, but can't actually feel bad.

"fuck," he says, "we really need to clean up and go."

after showing in the gym as quickly as you could (really just washing the sweat and cum off) you both threw on your clothes, despite the sweat and drool in them, and some spots of cum that must've leaked inside the locker. in the parking lot you find just Mike's car and your brothers, who's leaning against the hood looking at his phone.

with fear in your stomach you approach, he looks up hearing your footsteps.

"Mike! you?" He asks, "where the fuck were you two? and what are you doing here?"

you clear your throat, "we were using the bathroom earlier, then showered. and i was taking care of the friend you ditched!" you say, giving a shrug and moving past him to get in the passenger seat, "it's late, lets go home!"

he looks from you incredulously to Mike, who laughs a little, his backpack hanging from one shoulder.

"i figured your lil bro could use some meat on him y'know," he says with a shy smile, "though, he actually has more than i thought," he adds a bit quieter.

you shut the car door, huffing a sigh of relief. your brother dabs Mike bye, and as he turns Mike looks at you, giving a small wave, his eyes darting down. you think about your load still inside him, how he didn't actually clean that out, and gulp.

your relationship with your brother's best friend has just gotten totally fucked. you don't feel bad towards that shithead though, just adjust your cock watching Mike walk to his car.

#mlm ns/fw #mlm nsft #top male reader #x male reader #pwp fics #oc x reader #mlm smut #smut

114 notes · View notes

s1eepy-bear · 10 days ago

Text

‧୨🌿୧ ₊˚ 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥・𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐

pairing: robert 'bob' reynolds x ex shield agent! f!reader

synopsis: it's your first day on duty and you bring donuts for the team. a silly morning encounter reveals bob's hidden vulnerabilities. you quickly developing an unexpected connection with him.

content: no y/n, silly, fluffy, cute, slow burn

warnings: MDNI! not proof read, bob's abs lol

a/n: i finally thought of a title for this series! i wonder if i'm getting too hung up on everyone else's interaction with the reader, should i focus more on her interactions with bob? let me know <3 Chapter 1

That night, a soft, balmy breeze billowed your open curtains, bringing with it the faint, persistent pulse of New York's distant hustle and bustle.

You lie in bed, soft sheets enveloping you as you try to drift into sleep. Behind your closed eyelids, a persistent image gnawed at you: Bob’s red, shy face.

A sliver of guilt hangs heavy in your chest for having flustered him so abruptly. You now have a level of access to those in the spotlight that SHIELD had never granted you, and the excitement of your new proximity to the New Avengers had entirely swept you away. You must remain professional.

Just two years ago, Bob slowly inked New York City away into darkness, turning people into shadows one by one, causing severe damage to the city and resulted in numerous injuries.

With this in mind, flirting feels frivolous and irresponsible when confronted with the ghosts of his past. And if he is in a vulnerable head space, you don’t want to be the one to take advantage of it, even if it's unintentional. This isn’t the kind of crush you can afford to have.

With these thoughts plaguing your mind and the heavy exhaustion from the busy work day, you slowly drift off to sleep.

༉ ✧˚₊

The following morning, the sun drenched the landscape, laying a shimmering, translucent veil over everything. A gentle breeze dances through the air, the sun is still low on the horizon.

You woke up extra early to drop by the charming donut shop you frequent to grab breakfast for the whole team. You opted for something simple, sugar donuts, until you learn everyone’s preferences.

You walk into the tower from your car, the bag of donuts in hand, thoughtfully greeting the other workers maintaining the tower along the way.

The light above the sensor in the elevator beeps green when you touch the access key to it and whirs into motion, swiftly bringing you to your desired floor.

The common area where the team welcomed you yesterday is now dark due to the curtains being drawn. The space is quiet, spared from the steady, low hum of the air conditioner running. You check your watch: only 6:10. Most of them are probably asleep.

You decide to take this time to brew some fresh, actually hot, coffee. While the pot gurgles, you tidy up various spots in the common area and kitchen: throw pillows on the floor, a bag of Goldfish crackers left open, a few books and magazines scattered around, dishes in the sink, cereal pieces that didn’t make it to the mouth, expired things in the fridge.

The smell of the fresh brew fills the space as you continue to busy yourself with noting down numerous items, food, and snacks for restocking. You silently note to yourself to get everyone’s phone number so they can get ahold of you if they ever need something.

“Oh, good morning,” Yelena says as she walks out from a corridor, which you learned from her yesterday, leads to the gym.

Her face shiny from a thin sheen of sweat as she makes her way toward you, wiping the sweat off with the towel around her neck. Her short blonde hair is pushed back with a headband.

“Good morning, Ms. Belova,” you greet her back with a mellow murmur, the sound soft enough not to disturb the early morning quiet.

“No, no, none of that,” she plops herself down on one of the leather bar stools by the kitchen island, the stool legs scraping faintly against the floor.

You tilt your head, a question forming in your head. The coffee maker gives a final satisfying beep, its brewing cycle complete.

“Just Yelena,” she clarifies.

You smile at that, “Well, Yelena, would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

You collect two mugs from the cabinet, the ceramic cool beneath your fingers, and fill them both with fresh coffee. Wisps of steam rose lazily from the dark liquid. The rich aroma blossoms in the air as you set one mug before her. She nods appreciatively.

“So, you think Bob is cute, huh?” Just as you take a sip out of your mug, Yelena inquires suddenly with a playful glint in her eyes. The unexpected question catches in your throat, forcing a sharp, spluttering cough.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” your initial serene expression crumples, replaced by a deep flush rising to your cheeks. You lower your cup to press your fingers between your eyebrows in a flustered manner.

Yelena laughs, a low, throaty sound, propping her elbows on the counter.

“Come on, you wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it.”

“It’s not that I didn’t mean it, it’s just…it was unprofessional,” you avert your gaze, suddenly the bleak marble counter looks very interesting.

“Who cares!” She lightheartedly rolls her eyes. “We’re hardly a professional organization. You just said what was on your mind.”

“Still,” you insist softly, tracing the rim of your mug with your thumb, the ceramic now warmer due to your body heat and hot beverage.

The Watchtower's dormant systems hummed—a low, almost imperceptible sound that seemed to amplify the awkward quietness. Your downcast eyes catch the wrinkled paper bag of donuts—your saving grace.

“Anyways…care for a donut?” You ask as you hold up the bag. “I settled for something basic since I don’t know what everyone liked. Let me know if you have any preferences,” Yelena gives you a knowing look, taking a deliberate sip of her coffee to hide her lips twitching with suppressed amusement. She is letting you off the hook, for now.

Yelena reaches for the bag, her fingers lightly hover as she carefully chooses what must be the perfect one. She takes a huge bite and lets out a genuine, drawn-out groan of pleasure. “Mmm! This is good, actually good, better than whatever dad tries to make.”

You let out a quick exhale of a laugh. The tight knot of tension in your chest finally loosens. You pluck a donut for yourself, not bothering with Yelena’s meticulous selection process.

Even with her teasing about Bob, a warm wave of relief washes over you. You've found a connection with at least one person on this team. Well, there's Alexei too, but Alexei is friendly right off the bat, like a big, boisterous golden retriever.

As you and Yelena enjoy your donuts, a quiet murmur of conversation and two pairs of footsteps draw steadily louder.

“Wow, looks real tidy out here,” Walker’s voice announces from just around the corner.

“Smells real good too,” he steps fully into the kitchen, Bucky Barnes following close behind him. They both are in athletic gear, ready for a morning workout.

“Good morning, Mr. Walker, and nice to finally meet you, Mr. Barnes.” Your lips curve upward in a polite greeting. Bucky simply returns it with a nod and a small smile of his own, while Yelena tosses a casual, “What’s up, losers?” their way.

“Some coffee and donuts?” you offer, holding up the bag. Both of the super soldiers accept enthusiastically. While they chat with Yelena, you busy yourself with coffee and mugs.

"Maybe this secretary thing is awesome after all," Walker remarks complacently with a smirk, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine amusement.

“Walker,” Bucky lectures, his voice a low, warning rumble—probably worrying about Walker's statement being rude.

You smile back at Walker as you set their coffee in front of them on the kitchen island.

"Just part of the job,”

You can’t deny that it feels good to have someone acknowledge and appreciate your work, even jokingly.

༉ ✧˚₊

After a quick breakfast, the others begin to disperse. Yelena leaves to go take a shower, and Bucky and Walker make their way to the gym.

You inhale your donut in a few quick bites and retrieve your company-issued tablet from your purse, flipping through various tabs, reviewing the team’s schedule today.

Although each person on the team is sent their own schedule, you keep everyone’s, so you can locate someone if you are looking for them, or if someone doesn’t make it somewhere on time, it’s your duty to check on them.

A quick glance confirms the mission briefing for tomorrow: the whole team, minus Bob. It seems like Val is utilizing the new support staff—you, to keep him company while the team is deployed. While your role for most of the team is to respond when needed, your duties for Bob involve a slightly more active form of oversight. You have to make sure that he wakes up before noon and eats all his meals.

For now, you sit in the common area with the curtains drawn open, as you review what would be stacks of paperwork if it weren’t digital. The Watchtower is brighter but not much more lively. Today is everyone’s day off; therefore, some go their separate ways to take care of business. You would usually find the quietness relaxing, but the lack of structure is unnerving. It’s not the kind of stressful, rigid work environment you're used to.

You officially met Ava Starr when she strolled past the common area on her way out. Her movement fluid and silent, as if gliding. Her ethereal, pale blue eyes remind you of a fairy.

With your introduction, she simply mutters, “finally, another girl.” A faint smile tugging at her lips.

“Want a donut?”

How many times have you said the word ‘donut’ today?

“How thoughtful, don’t mind if I do,” Ava says, giving you a nod of thanks before she disappears.

A moment after Ava leaves, just when the air has settled, a soft padding of bare feet against the tiled floor catches your attention. Bob’s eyes are half closed, still lost somewhere in sleep, as he wobbles slowly across the common area toward the kitchen, oblivious to you. Strands of his brown hair stick out in different directions, appearing golden under the sun. You would alert him, but there’s something so captivating about watching Bob just existing, devoid of nervousness or uncertainty.

He rubs his eye as he yawns tiredly, reaching a hand up under his shirt to scratch his stomach. The fabric rides up, revealing his abdomen. Your eyes widen, and your heart jolts against your ribcage. His baggy clothes make him look unassuming, even scrawny, but the reality is anything but. Beneath the fabric lay an expanse of taut, defined muscles that spoke quiet strength—a sharp contrast that stole your breath. You swallow thickly.

Fuck.

Still unaware of your presence, Bob's eyes finally open fully, drawn by something in the kitchen. His gaze falls on the last donut remaining on a plate. He absentmindedly grabs the pastry and starts feasting. Mid-chewing, he turns, locking eyes with you, and freezes.

“Oh shit,” he says incoherently, you almost didn’t make out his words. He swallows his bite, his eyes wide from surprise or panic, you’re not sure which, “uh, hey…that wasn’t yours, was it?”

You sputter, a fit of laughter hits you all at once, and you can’t seem to take a full breath. Maybe it was because of how carefree he was the second before, but reverted to his usual self in the snap of a finger, or the fact that there’s sugar on the side of his mouth.

Your laughter evokes a bashful smile from Bob, “So, was that a 'no, it wasn't yours,' or do you just enjoy my cluelessness?” He says, his tongue darts out briefly to lick away the sugar on the side of his mouth.

“Maybe I do, and the donut is for you,” you say, still breathless from laughing. “You’re lucky that I’m here to make sure no one grabbed two.”

“Thanks,” Bob lets out a sigh of relief, clearly still a bit embarrassed but grateful. "I…I didn’t know that you were going to be here today.”

“Well, Bob, I have a job here,” you tilt your head with an amused smile as you make your way to the kitchen, to him. “And I’ll be here every day.”

“Right, that makes sense…” His voice trails off.

A quiet elation blossoms within him in your presence, like a breath of fresh spring air. You, with your gentle smile and disarming frankness, are a stark contrast from those who walk on eggshells around him, wary of rattling the Void. He doesn’t hold that against them, but it felt good being treated like he’s a normal person—no serum, no Sentry, no Void.

A tingly, warm feeling spreads across his chest, a feeling he didn’t even realize he missed. His bashful smile softens further, and his gaze, usually a little distant, settles on you with a warmth that matches the new feeling in his chest. He clears his throat gently. "So," he begins, “what exactly is your job with us…I mean, I know you are our uh, assistant or secretary, but what does that entail?”

“Well, just about anything, I can cook for you guys, get groceries, manage paperwork, clean, be good company,” you list, but pause, “speaking of groceries, you guys are very out. Would you come to the store with me? I’m not sure what everyone likes.”

“Oh, um…” Bob's face falls, his blue eyes clouding with sorrow. "The team doesn't like me going outside," he explains quietly. "Because the Void might come out, you know. And that's... not good."

“So you just…stay here all day?”

“Pretty much.”

You soften your gaze, speaking gently. "Val actually mentioned you're allowed to leave the Tower with a companion. You can't conquer the Void by being cooped up all day, Bob. Besides, we're only going to grab groceries, we'll come straight back if you'd like, and I'll be right there with you." You suggest, being careful not to pressure him into something he's uncomfortable with.

“Are you sure?” Bob fiddles with the sleeve of his sweatshirt—you learn that it’s a nervous habit of his.

“I believe in you. Do you believe in yourself?”

Bob seems to ponder it over in his head and eventually takes a deep breath. “Okay…I will at least try.”

“Alright,” you beamed, unable to stop the big smile spreading across your face. “That’s all I ask.”

Your smile lightened something in Bob, drawing a soft, answering smile to his lips.

Bob nodded, his gaze softening as he held your smile, “yeah…”

You tilt your head, a playful glint in your eye. "So, are you flying us or should I drive?"

button divider by @/bernardsbendystraws

#𝜗𝜚 sun's writing #robert reynolds #bob reynolds #robert bob reynolds #robert reynolds x reader #bob reynolds x reader #sentry x reader #lewis pullman #thunderbolts #thunderbolts*

145 notes · View notes

xzaddyzanakinx · 1 year ago

Text

Not That Kind of Guy

Part One: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship [eventual warning for smut; be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin loves you so much it hurts, he just really wants to make sure your silly little girl brain doesn’t get in the way of your safety, you have a cat, Anakin is a bartender [diary entries from Ani’s perspective] MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: May 2nd

The Cerulean was filled with loud music, flashing lights, and the stench of sweaty guys and spilt beer. Over-kill perfume on the girls who so desperately wanted my attention, writing their numbers on their drink coasters after finishing their stupid little cocktail. The occasional ‘break it up guys, c’mon’ yelled out at a pair of ‘roided up college boys. Peanut shells stuck to my sneakers at the end of the night, going home and washing off the stickiness from working behind the bar.

All things I was used to.

But you… not you. Every time I caught a glimpse of you tonight it was like the first time all over again.

Pink, skirt, sneakers, crop top. Such a cute little outfit; it made you easy to spot, easy to track, easy to watch over.

I have your drink order memorized. I so hoped you’d come back for another so I could hear your voice, to see your pretty little lips move just for me again. But you didn’t. Because you’re a smart girl. You knew that without a man around to look out for you, you’d be pretty hopeless if you got too tipsy. It only made me want to protect you more. You’re too soft, too sweet, too innocent to worry about the big nasty world around you.

That’s my job now.

I’ll always keep you safe, but I also want to keep you happy. You deserve the world and more, and I’ll give it to you.

I’d destroy the earth to build it up again in your design. I’d live for you, serve you, die for you, at any moment you might ask. Just say the word and I will. I promise I will.

Note: Motion sensors

Date:

May 23rd

Anakin walked a safe distance behind you, his hands in his hoodie pocket, his hood up and head down. It was dark out, the only light was from the street lamps.

Sometimes when he walked you home he just wanted to run up and grab you by the shoulders and shake you; ask you to please for once just pay attention to your surroundings.

You walked around with your headphones in, ignoring everything and everyone. Yeah it was a straight shot to your apartment from the bar. Only having to cross the road once during the mile long journey down the sidewalk. But a mile was a good stretch of space and there were plenty of people who passed you. A handful of creepy, unlit alleyways you could be dragged into.

You were practically asking for it.

He just had to remind himself that this was just another reason you were so lucky to have him. He’d watch over you, so you didn’t have to worry your pretty little head about nothin’.

Anakin stood by the corner store dumpster and watched as you trotted up the steps and tapped the door code into the keypad of your apartment building. After the door shut behind you and he saw the keypad flash red, he knew you were safely locked inside.

It took approximately one minute and 14 seconds for you to jog up the steps to your door, depending on how tired you were he could add a few seconds and not worry. But anything over 20 seconds had him sweating in a panic.

Tonight though you were right on time, his phone pinged with an alert that your door had been opened, and successfully shut behind you. Now he could breathe a sigh of relief and make his way back to work.

His boss was kind enough to never question why he skipped out for about 20 minutes a night or two a week. Anakin smoked, it wasn’t unlikely to assume he just got a little distracted scrolling on his phone during his smoke break or maybe just needed a few minutes of peace.

Now all he had to do was suffer through three more hours of monotonous work and try not get a head start on his hearing loss from the shitty music.

Then he could go home to you.

The cloak of stress he wore when you were out of sight vanished quickly when he perched on the fire escape and peered into your living room. Poor thing. You’d fallen asleep on the couch again.

Not that he minded. It made his night that much better when he could sit closer to you. It was a pain to climb the ladder of the building next door and sit on the rooftop so he could see into your bedroom window. Very inconvenient, but worth it everytime.

He sat quietly, observing you and the way your lips twitched while you slept, as though you were having a conversation with someone in your dreams. Probably him, he thought.

“Oh, your blanket… you’re gonna be cold if you keep squirming around like that, your blanket is gonna end up in the floor.”

His fingers itched to pry open the window and tuck you back in, but he didn’t. He promised himself he wouldn’t do that. No breaking and entering.

He decided it was time to head back to his own home after that, he couldn’t stay much longer without: a) falling asleep b) forcing his way into your apartment for the sake of keeping you warm.

So he trekked to the sidewalk, wiping off the rust stains on his palms from the old metal fire escape. Shoving his hands back into his hoodie pocket after blowing you a goodnight kiss.

Diary Entry: June 6th

You owe me big time young lady.

You left your door unlocked and your window cracked open. It is 3:00am, what if someone snuck in? Then what would I do?

Die probably. I’d probably die if something happened to you.

Therefore, I bit the bullet and helped you out. I’m lucky you’re a heavy sleeper and I’m not easy to startle or else we both would’ve had a big scare tonight.

I cracked open your window, slipped in quietly, lowered it behind me, locked it. Double checked it and then triple checked it just in case.

When I turned around- christ that fucking cat. I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes. Guard dog? Who needs a guard dog when you’ve got that monster running around?

A quick blur of orange and a loud *reeeareow* was the only warning before it- sorry, Boogie, climbed up my leg with her little pitchfork claws. I handled it well, you’d be proud. I picked her up by the scruff and gave her a light bop on the noggin’ just like you do when she’s in trouble; except I didn’t kiss it better afterwards, I think she would’ve eaten me if I tried that.

Any-who, I carried her with me to the kitchen and got her a little treat from the cutesy kitten jar on the countertop. Then she decided we could be friends or well… maybe or maybe not I don’t really know, I guess we’ll see.

I plucked your spare key from the top of the fridge and quietly left your apartment. I locked the door and checked it several times, just in case.

As I walked down the steps I saw that the super was kind enough to leave a reminder that the keypad code had been changed, how nice of him! You are awfully forgetful sometimes. No worries princess I took a picture for safe keeping.

I need to change the batteries on or door sensors soon anyway, those little button batteries don’t last very long you know.

It was only when I got home that I realized I still had your spare key… tsk tsk Anakin. Ah well, that just means it won’t fall into the hands of someone it shouldn’t. I’ll keep it safe.

I love you 🖤

Diary Entry: June 7th

You know, come to think of it. Now that I have a key I should get a few new items for your apartment, that way I can keep an eye on things for you while you’re away.

Note: Hd1080p microcam x4

There will be a bot to go along with this series! This is really short compared to my usual posts: I just wanted to give all my little lovelies a snippet of what’s to come.

Part Two

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @styleslytherin @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141

Let me know if you wanna be added/removed

666 notes · View notes

albatris · 7 days ago

Text

snippit sindiy

an excuse to show off some of the things I learned when I went on a ghost hunt a few months back hahaha

“Ripley,” he said, once they were inside and no stray passersby could possibly hear. “I’ve learned a lot about vampires since we last hung out.”

“Oh, yeah?” she said. She dropped her bag and dropped down next to it, started pulling boxes and meters out.

Nat did the same. “Yeah,” he said. “I learned that we have to, like, kill people. And also that when we die we explode into a huge gory mess of eyes and teeth. If we get shot in the brain or poisoned real bad.”

“Pretty fucking gnarly, hey?”

“Mm,” Nat said. “What kind of people do you go after?”

“Oh, I mostly just hang out at bars and eat creeps,” Ripley said. “Someone slips something into someone’s drink, someone gets a little too nonconsensually handsy… I’ll lure ‘em out back and take care of ‘em.”

“Cool,” Nat said. But Quinn’s earlier concern still scratched at his mind. “Doesn’t that get dangerous, though?” he asked. “Like, what if someone sees you? What if someone traces the deaths back to you?”

“Well, the cops are useless, for one,” Ripley said. She started fiddling with a small box and a few blinking lights snapped on. “Drunk people aren’t the most observant, either. It’s fine.”

“And vampire hunters?” Nat pressed.

She tilted her head. “We don’t get those here too often anymore. Hunters don’t think there’s many vampires left in Darwelaide.”

“What about the Knight?”

“The Knight?” Ripley peered at him over the top of her box. “Where did you hear that name?”

“From… um, Quinn.”

She pursed her lips. “Oh,” she said. “Well, they’re probably just trying to rile you up, get you nervous. The Knight hasn’t been around for twenty, thirty years. She’s pretty famous. And pretty dead.”

Ripley nudged through the collection of objects on the ground with her boot, naming each of them as she did so.

“We got EMF readers for measuring fluctuations in electromagnetic fields,” she said. “We got digital voice recorders to record sounds beyond human hearing…”

“Beyond vampire hearing, too?”

“Depends how nervous you are.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“Not scared of ghosts, Natty?”

“Not really. But kind of. But not. I mean, I don’t think they exist,” Nat said. “But I used to think vampires didn’t exist either. And I watched Supernatural Activity when I was way too young for it and it scarred me for life.”

Ripley laughed. “We’re probably the scariest things out here. What’s a ghost going to do to a vampire?”

“It could shoot me in the brain or poison me real bad.”

Her laugh became a cackle. When she settled, she said, “We have infrared thermometers, for measuring mysterious drops in temperature. Cold spots. We got motion-sensing cat toys—”

“Why?”

“The cat toys? Yeah, they cost, like, two dollars and work as good as any proper ghost-hunting sensor. They start flashing whenever something touches them.” Ripley unzipped a small case and pulled out a few seemingly unrelated objects. “We have trigger items here—things the ghosts of old might find interesting. Flask of alcohol, chocolate, tobacco… we put the cat toys with a trigger item and see what happens.”

“Oh, cool!” Nat said.

“And this guy”—Ripley waved about the box she was holding—“is a spirit box. It’s really fun. We’ll do this one together.”

“How does it work?”

“It scans through radio frequencies in little bursts and provides a way for spirits to communicate.”

“Ooh.”

“Here, grab some of these and turn them on.” Ripley made a sweeping motion to her equipment. “Go nuts! Go put ‘em around the place, anywhere that gives you spooky vibes.”

“We don’t keep them with us?”

“Ghosts are skittish. Ghosts are shy. You want to leave the devices in peace, mostly.”

#snippet sunday #a rental car takes a left down rake street and disappears #ive never seen paranormal activity maybe i should watch it

46 notes · View notes

thedelicatearcher · 1 year ago

Text

finnick odair who loves making improvements to your home to make your life easier. one of finnick's love languages is acts of service, so when you move into his house in the victors village, he can't stop thinking of ways of transforming your home to make your life a little better. these improvements go from small modifications such as installing motion-sensor lights on the porch for when you come home late, building custom color-coded drawers on the kitchen for your baking utensils, and adding support bars in some places to prevent you from slipping. to more major ones like buying and restoring a vintage desk that you loved in the market, and transforming part of the backyard into a gorgeous little garden for you to relax in.

finnick odair who loves you deeply and is devoted to make you happy on your shared home

#i really love this guy i can't stop thinking about him #this was inspired by the lady on tiktok who shows what her husband made for her #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #thg

222 notes · View notes

ohemgeeitsme · 12 days ago

Text

beneath the milky twilight

The motion sensor light flickered on when the car drove up the narrow driveway. A few seconds passed before the passenger door opened, a stream of giggles spilling out from the backseat as it did so.

"Y/N, please, you gotta be a little quieter," Minho begged as he stepped out of the car. He shut his door quickly and made his way to the back passenger door, where you were.

It was a typical Friday night which meant you'd gone out to the bars with your roommate and his longtime friends, Minho, Jisung, Chris, and Hyunjin. Changbin and his friends were a lot of fun and you were glad you'd warmed up to them. Having a guy as a roommate had been a bit unsettling at first, you admit, especially a guy you'd only just met. But you soon realized you had nothing to worry about with Changbin. Sure, he was a little messy at times, and his voice was one of those that seemed to almost always be on outside mode, but he was a sweetheart.

He had an excess of muscles which he had used to help you bring in your boxes worth of stuff when you moved into the apartment, and a huge heart, which you had witnessed when you walked in on him crying over a Korean drama a few weeks after living together. His first response was to stiffen in his seat and try to act nonchalant about the scene you’d just walked in on, but yours had been to snuggle up with him and wipe the tears away. He'd breathed a sigh of relief, all too happy to accept the cuddles and explain the show to you, and by the end of that weekend you'd watched all of it. He gave you a list of more shows to watch and he often joined you while you were watching them. After that the friendship between you two grew quickly.

You'd met Changbin’s friends not long after and you were quickly invited on their weekend outings. Normally you only had one or two drinks, but after completing an exceptionally stressful project you'd desperately needed to get wasted and strongly encouraged Changbin to do the same. He normally didn’t drink too heavily if you were out with him, but you were extra convincing this time. Hence Minho having to peel you out of Jisung’s backseat, and Jisung having to do the same with Changbin.

"This isn't fair," Jisung pouted, tugging on Changbin’s arm. Changbin followed easily, but did lose his footing on the edge of the car and his heavy upper body lurched dangerously towards Jisung. He caught himself at the last minute and smiled triumphantly at a panicked Jisung. "Minho you have more muscle, why did I get stuck with Changbin?"

"He's not as wild," Minho shrugged. As if to prove his point, you attempted a pirouette out of nowhere. "Y/N, straight lines please."

"I just wanna dance!" You whined, trying to shimmy out of the strong grip Minho now had on you.

"You already did all night, remember?"

It was true. You'd danced with just about everyone you could get your hands on when you were at the bar. And there wasn't even a dance floor - just a bit of open space between the pool tables and the bathroom, and you'd gotten surprisingly good at dodging errant pool cues.

Jisung snorted, finally able to pull Changbin around the car. The two were walking steadily but slowly up the driveway. Minho had to adjust his grip on your waist as you tried to wiggle away again.

"Y/N," Jisung tried. "If you can get up the stairs and unlock the door without being loud I’ll give you your phone back."

You stopped. When had you lost your phone? A quick check of your pockets confirmed it wasn't on you. Your jaw dropped in disbelief. "Sungie, did you pickpocket me?"

There were a few laughs from Jisung and Minho, and even Changbin sighed, a little exasperated. "Babe, you tried to leave your phone at the bar. Jisung grabbed it for you, remember?"

You did vaguely recall telling Jisung he was saving your life and trying to kiss him as a thank you. His eyes had grown wide, panicked, and he'd ducked out of the way quickly. You frowned, remembering that. "You didn't let me kiss you."

"I don't take advantage of drunk chicks," he said.

"Oh!" That solved that then. The rest of the trip up the stairs was much quieter and when you reached your door you had the sense to look at the lock and know there was no way you would be able to work the key.

"Give me the key," Minho sighed. Instead of reaching into your pocket, you cocked your hip at him. The man sighed again and reached into your pocket.

Changbin grabbed your waist and pulled you back into him, causing you to squawk at the surprise. "I'll hold her." He said belatedly.

"Uh, thanks?" Minho eyed his friend before unlocking the front door and stepping aside so Jisung could lead the group indoors.

Once inside, it was considerably easier to wrangle you and Changbin. Minho steered you towards the living room couch while Jisung went in search of your aspirin bottle, filling up a cup of water for both you and Changbin. When he crouched down to present the water you made a face.

"I don't want water, can I have juice?"

"No. Drink it." You grumbled but accepted the water as Changbin drank his dutifully, wide eyes peering over the rim of the cup.

"Can we leave you two here by yourselves? You won't throw up will you?" Jisung asked as he stood.

"I got it," Changbin grumbled. He gave a thumbs up as he drank the last of his water and nudged you to take another sip of yours.

"Alright, cool." Minho pulled at Jisung’s jacket. "Come on, babe, I wanna go home."

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Jisung sighed. He sent you and Changbin one last look. "Please just go to sleep, okay? The pain killers are on the kitchen table."

"Yeah, fine," you said. You waved cheerily as they left, but promptly snorted once the door was closed. "Minho called Jisung 'babe'." You giggled into your cup as you drank the last of the water.

Changbin turned on the TV and navigated to your favorite streaming app. Within minutes you were watching the first episode of your favorite drama, one you and Changbin had watched maybe three times now.

Changbin pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it carefully over your two bodies, and you felt your eyes fluttered closed for a moment before you jerked awake again. You frowned as your eyes focused on the TV- the episode had changed on you. When did that happen? You were at least two episodes further than you remembered, and the love interests were just starting to realize their feelings for each other. You loved this part but you didn't want to be on the couch anymore; your bed was much better.

"Changbin, I'm gonna go to bed," you said softly. There was no response, so you looked over and saw his eyes were closed, head drooping slightly, his breath coming out in gentle puffs.

Changbin was a good looking guy, but you'd never seen him asleep before. He looked so peaceful, face smooth of any worries and full lips pouting slightly. You leaned in close and reached out a hand and let your finger gently run down the side of his face. His skin was just as smooth as it looked.

Your gentle touch was enough for him to stir awake and he sat up slightly, his hand coming up to hold yours against his face. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word, just watched you.

"Changbin?" You asked. The look in his eyes was one you hadn't seen before, and as much as it made you nervous, you couldn't deny the thrill it gave you. His eyes flickered to your lips, which were just inches from his. You’d thought about kissing Changbin before, of course you had. He was your cute roommate who liked to cuddle up and watch tv with you. You’d come back from disappointing dates and crawled into his arms, where he’d let you vent about the lackluster men until you’d gotten it all out of your system. Changbin was as close to perfect as a guy could be, you thought, but you’d never had the courage to say or do anything about it. Until now.

Your hand that wasn't on his face found his shirt collar and pulled him closer, closer, until finally his lips were on yours.

The kiss, if you could really call it that, was brief – just an uncoordinated slide of your lips against his – and when you pulled back it was with wide eyes.

"I - I have to - um, goodnight," you squeaked out.

Changbin laughed as you hurried down the hallway, and as you closed your door behind you, you heard him call out, "Goodnight!"

You didn’t fall asleep right away. Instead you lay in bed for a long time, running your fingers over your lips. You kissed Changbin. Without asking for his permission. And you were both drunk. What did it mean for your friendship? Your relationship as roommates? You were ashamed of the last thoughts you had before finally succumbing to sleep. Was it good for him? Would he want to kiss you again?

Your stomach fluttered at the last question. Your eyes drooped closed before you could dwell on it too much.

It was earlier than you would have liked when you heard a knock at your door the next morning. You couldn’t bear to move more than your head, so you didn’t. You carefully swiveled your head towards the door and gave the intruder, Changbin, an unimpressed look.

"What time is it?" Your voice was creaky with disuse.

He shut the door softly behind him and it was only then that you realized what he had in his arm - a bottle of water and the bottle of pain killers Jisung had set out on the kitchen table.

"Its still pretty early," Changbin admitted. He sat on the edge of your bed by your hip and offered you first the water, then the pain killers. You took them both gratefully and swallowed down three pills. "Figured it would be best to cut the headache off before it got too bad this morning."

"Thanks." You scooted over a little in your bed and lifted the corner of your blanket. Changbin grinned and accepted the invitation, making himself comfortable under the covers, and you leaned into him, wrapping your arm around his waist.

"Someone's cuddly today," he mused. However, that didn’t stop him from cuddling into you in return. He turned onto his side and pulled you closer, until your legs were tangled with his. Of course, the two of you had cuddled before, but not quite like this. It felt entirely too nice. You wanted to stay wrapped up in the cocoon of warmth and Changbin forever.

"Is it you?" You asked, licking your suddenly too dry bottom lip. Drinking always did make your lips feel like they were made out of paper. You just had to remember where you put your chapstick.

"I think it might be me," Changbin admitted with a sigh. "It’s so nice and cozy in here."

"I'll allow it," you answered. You tucked your face into Changbin’s neck and breathed in his smell. He always smelled so good, but you would never tell him that. It might go to his head or something. "But only for today."

"We can't cuddle tomorrow?" You could hear the pout in his voice and fought back a grin.

"Hmm. Maybe. There will have to be a daily evaluation, I think."

"Well," he chuckled, "If you think that's what's best."

"Oh, I do."

Changbin’s fingers ran through your hair, gently separating and detangling any knots he came across. You tried not to be too self conscious about your messy hair - you did just wake up, after all - but he didn’t seem to care.

"Y/N," he said.

"Yes?" You looked up and saw he was watching you closely, eyes fond and full lips softly smiling.

"I really like spending time with you."

Really? He does? You're not doing anything special here. He literally woke you up just to lay in bed with you and play with your hair. Not to say that you don't like the attention. "I like spending time with you, too."

"Good." Changbin held your face in place, then, with his hand in your hair and the other on your cheek, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Let's go make breakfast," he announced.

Your heart was bearing wildly in your chest. Barring the kiss from last night, you and Changbin have never been close like this. Hugging and hand holding weren't uncommon between you two, but you'd never felt his lips on you. Was this going to be a new norm for the pair of you?

"Sure. Let's do that." You managed to get out of bed, pulling him after you, and even though you would've been happy with cereal, Changbin really wanted bacon, eggs, and pancakes.

You ended up making bacon, eggs, and pancakes.

You were sitting at the kitchen table, going over your list of assignments when a boulder dropped heavy in your gut. You had an essay due at midnight. It was so clearly written in your notebook, starred and circled with your purple pen. So how could you have forgotten about it? You remember starting the outline a few weeks ago, but you don't think you've made much headway in the time since.

You'd kind of had other things on your mind - things like the awkwardness between you and Changbin this last week. After the kiss you shared you tried to act like things were normal between the two of you. You joked around with him the same as you usually would, you guys went grocery shopping together like always, watched the new episodes of your favorite shows together. But there was a weird distance between you now. It wasn't very noticeable, but there had been a few times you had seen Changbin attempt to reach for your hand only to abruptly drop his own hand to his side. Or you would turn down an invite to spend time with him and his friends, just because you knew you wouldn't be able to stop thinking about kissing him again. So things were... business as usual, but not quite the same.

However, that meant when Changbin came home after about half an hour and asked you to go out with his friends for the weekend, it hurt you a little bit to say no, but with the essay due in mere hours, you had to.

His face dropped only slightly, but you could see the question in his eyes well before it came out of his mouth.

"Are you - you're not mad at me, are you?"

"What?" Mad at Changbin? For what, allowing you to kiss him? "No, of course not. I have an essay due for this short story we read and I can't believe I forgot about it, but I literally only have a shitty outline and it's due tonight, so I can't go. I'm sorry."

Changbin looked relieved and he pulled out the chair next to you so he could sit shoulder to shoulder with you. "I could stay and help, if you want."

You rolled your eyes fondly as you looked down to your notebook and knocked your shoulder against his. "You're gonna help me write an essay about a short story you've never read?"

"I'm an excellent bullshitter, Y/N, you know that." His arm wrapped around your shoulder and he pulled you closer.

He had on his most charming smile, as you could see when you glanced up at him. He looked confident, happy, maybe a little too self-assured. And so damn attractive. "No, Changbin, go drink with your friends. I'll be fine on my own."

"I know you will be." His voice was soft and his fingers are gentle when they ran through the ends of your hair. "If you really don't want me here, I guess there's nothing I can say to convince you." The wistful tone in his voice was meant to make you laugh, you knew, and you did, telling yourself it was only to appease him – not because you found his dumb joke funny.

"Just go," you laughed. "Have a lot of fun for me, okay?"

"Okay." Changbin stood and pushed his chair in, and before you know it you were alone in the apartment again.

You spent the next few hours writing, editing, and finding new places to sit. The hard wood chair at the kitchen table was so uncomfortable you never wanted to sit in it again. Then you worked in your room for a bit, your desk chair was much nicer. But as time went by you found yourself growing restless. So you moved to the living room. You were sitting on the floor, in front of the coffee table, typing away, when Changbin came home. It was well past midnight and you had successfully submitted your essay, but you wanted to get a head start on another one due next week. You glanced at the time when you heard him pulling his shoes off – even though it was past midnight it was still not very late, especially for someone who’d been out at the bars. Why was he home already?

“Y/N?” he asked as he walked in. You figured you were quite the sight – hunched over on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, surrounded by candy wrappers as you had gotten hungry but weren’t patient enough to cook yourself a whole meal, a blanket draped over your shoulders, and notebook pages full of scribbled nonsense sat next to you.

“What are you doing home already?” you yawned and turned to him as he made his way towards you.

It was safe to say that you weren’t at all expecting it when he pushed the table out of the way and dropped heavily in your lap, his arms immediately coming up to wrap around you. His face found its way to your neck and your arms automatically wrapped around him as well.

“Changbin? What are you doing?”

He huffed out a breath, hot against your throat, and mumbled. “Not doing anything.”

The way his nose brushed against your skin tickled, but you held still. It was as if you were frozen in place, afraid to do anything that might knock some sense into him, but also afraid to do anything that might encourage it. Not to say you didn’t want the closeness, because you did, you really did, but you didn’t want drunk Changbin to do something sober him might regret. You knew it would hurt you too much.

You realized belatedly that you could faintly hear him murmuring something, but you couldn’t tell what. All your senses were drowning out everything except for the way his lips felt when they brushed against your neck, following the path created by his nose

“What did you say?” you asked, voice shaky.

But Changbin didn’t repeat himself. Instead, he pulled his face out of your neck and gazed down at you. His eyes were dark, gaze heavy again, like it was right before you kissed him last weekend. But this time it was him that leaned forward. He tilted his head and kissed you, lips not so gentle against yours. They moved expertly and it would have been a nice kiss, but the force behind it was too much. You tensed up, surprised, and he pulled back.

“We missed you at the bar,” he murmured, his soft voice so unlike the kiss.

“I missed you guys too,” you said. You realized your arms were still around him, and you pulled your hands away, let them drop at your sides.

“Missed them? Or missed me?” Changbin’s eyes were searching your face for something, and you nodded.

“Hmm…” you hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. “I missed you.”

Changbin nodded to himself before leaning in for another kiss, but you put your hands on his chest.

“Changbin, stop,” you pleaded. You could deal with him drunkenly kissing you once, but twice? Not only did the idea make your heart ache, but it felt wrong. Like you were taking advantage of him. You remembered Jisung’s words from before; I don’t take advantage of drunk chicks. If you allowed Changbin to kiss you when he was like this, without having had a conversation about it when he was sober, wasn’t that kind of scummy?

He frowned. “You don’t want to kiss me?”

Your heart sped up in your chest. He looked and sounded so hurt, and that was the last thing you wanted. “Not like this.”

Changbin grunted as he stood, a little shaky on his still drunk legs, and left down the hall towards his bedroom without another look back. Had you messed up? You hadn’t meant to hurt him, you were just trying to do the right thing.

You took your time cleaning up the mess you’d made of the living room before heading back to your room and falling into bed. Sleep didn’t come easy.

Things had been a little awkward in the weeks after the first kiss, but that was nothing compared to the state of your relationship with Changbin after the second drunken kiss. He’d been avoiding you ever since you stopped him from kissing you again and while it hurt, you thought it was probably for the best. If Changbin had really wanted to pursue something with you, he would’ve tried by now, wouldn’t he?

But one day you came home after your last class and Changbin was in the living room, watching the newest episode of one of his dramas. You shut the front door softly behind you, not wanting to disturb him. In all honesty, from the moment you saw the back of his head over the couch back, you’d decided to let him have his space. But just as you were about to pass the living room, you glanced towards the TV screen and saw a familiar face. You’d seen that actress before, but where? You hovered in the doorway as you tried to remember which drama she’d been in. Her voice was a bit higher pitched, like she was playing a younger or more naïve character, and her hair was considerably shorter, you knew, but what had it looked like previously?

“You can sit, you know.”

Changbin’s voice startled you out of your deep thoughts and you jumped, eyes widening as you faced him. He wasn’t even watching the show; he was focused solely on you. His arms were crossed over his chest, but you knew it wasn’t meant to be as standoffish as it looked – Changbin did this to protect himself, using his arms as a barrier between himself and a perceived threat. Were you the threat?

After a brief hesitation, you sat on the opposite end of the couch, your legs curled up under you. If Changbin was extending an olive branch you would be a fool not to take it, no matter how wary you were.

You watched the show without saying a word. The premise was one you’d seen a few different variations of, but there were new elements brought in that made it feel entirely new. And, as with all the dramas Changbin watched, the two leads obviously had feelings for each other. It just didn’t appear to be so obvious to them.

Towards the end of the episode, the female lead character seemed to realize the full extent of her feelings, for what was probably the first time, and while you knew things would work out in the end for them, you couldn’t say the same for yourself and your roommate.

You glanced at the man sitting at the opposite end of the couch and saw that he was fully sucked in to the show. His eyes were wide, unblinking. His muscular arms were still crossed over his chest, but you weren’t sure if it was because he was still on guard, or maybe he’d just grown comfortable with the weight of them there and hadn’t thought to move them.

You turned away from Changbin, angling your body to better see the TV without having to see him from your periphery. You hated the space between the two of you, both physical and emotional. Before the night at the bar, you’d been fine with your relationship the way it was. You hadn’t ever dared to act on your feelings because you knew there was no way things would ever work out in your favor and you didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship. But look at how well that turned out – you’d kissed him anyway and did end up ruining your friendship, with no way to fix it. And now you were stuck watching two painfully beautiful people onscreen realize their feelings for each other and all you can think is how much you wish that was you.

But there was no use in wishing and wanting, especially when you don’t have the guts for anything more. You were about to get up and hide in your room for the rest of the night when Changbin spoke again.

“I can change it if you want.”

“What? No, it’s fine.” You glanced at Changbin and he grabbed the remote.

“You’re frowning.”

Although you hadn’t realized it before, you could feel it now. You made yourself stop, your face deceptively neutral. “I’m fine, see?” You gave Changbin a small smile, the best you could do at the moment.

The look Changbin gave you was doubtful and you couldn’t really fault him for it. But you were unprepared for him to scoot closer to the center of the couch, pulling you closer as well and wrapping his arm around you.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so distant,” he said softly. You could feel your body instinctively curling into him, moving before you could think about whether or not you should.

“It’s okay,” you answered, voice just as quiet. Your eyes were still on the screen in front of you, as if you were afraid to fully face Changbin. He pulled you impossibly closer, your body held tight against his and your head left with nowhere to go but on his shoulder. Having Changbin’s arm around you brought you comfort, even if things between the two of you were still up in the air. You liked him so much, too much, and as you thought it, you turned to look at him.

Only to find that he was already looking at you. Your breath caught in your throat at the look in his eyes. He was looking at you intensely. Onscreen, going unwatched by the both of you, an ancient tree bloomed flowers for the first time in over a thousand years as the two of you kissed.

It was hard to say who leaned in first this time, but it didn’t matter much. Unlike the previous kiss, which had used too much force, this kiss was gentle. Your lips moved against Changbin’s a bit hesitantly, but his hand cupped the back of your head and held you while he took control. Changbin pulled you closer but you didn’t really have anywhere to go but his lap. While you were unsure in your movements, Changbin didn’t wait. He hoisted you onto his lap and kept his hands firm on your hips. Being manhandled like this, feeling Changbin’s hands all over you, you couldn’t help but moan deep in the back of your throat.

When you pulled away for a breath Changbin grinned at you. His hands squeezed your hips gently. “Y/N, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that.”

A blush heated your face and you ducked your head in embarrassment. “Changbin, I really missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“You did?”

“Of course I did.

Your hair had fallen like a curtain over your face, and Changbin reached out to tuck it behind your ear. He didn’t draw back when he was done, though, instead he held your cheek in the palm of his hand. You looked into his eyes and saw for the first time that he looked a bit unsure. Although his words and his actions were confident, Changbin looked at you almost like he was scared.

“We should probably talk, shouldn’t we?” As you spoke, you’d tried to scoot backwards of his lap, but Changbin held onto you tighter with the hand that was still on your hip.

“Please don’t run away again. I don’t think I could take it if you did.”

His words stopped you in your tracks. You nodded and stayed put. “Okay. I guess I’ll start.” You took a breath to steady yourself before finally voicing your thoughts out loud. “I like you, Changbin. I have for months now, but I didn’t know if you felt the same. I didn’t want it to affect our friendship so I decided it would be better not to act on my feelings.”

“Why did you keep running away after we kissed?”

“I guess I was scared.”

“I scare you?” His face dropped and you rushed to reassure him.

“No, not you – it was the fear of rejection, of ruining the relationship we already had, the what-if��s.”

“It’s normal to be afraid of the future and the unknown, but you can’t let fear keep you from what you want.”

“What if… what if what I want is you?”

“That’s a good thing, because I want you too.” Changbin pressed another brief kiss to your lips and you found yourself smiling into the kiss.

“I do have another question, though,” Changbin asked when the kiss ended.

You nodded for him to continue.

“I guess I just want to clarify – you kissed me first, but I kissed you after that. I actually tried to kiss you again, but you stopped me. Why did you stop me?”

“The first time we were both so drunk, I didn’t know if you even wanted to kiss me. And then –“

“Wait, wait, the first time?”

“Yeah.” You detail the night, how you’d been so drunk Minho and Jisung had held to help the both of you up the stairs and into your apartment. Changbin snorted.

“I wasn’t drunk.”

You frowned. “Yes you were. Don’t you remember all those shots?”

“I remember all the shots you took… and the shots I pretended to take.”

“You really weren’t drunk?”

“I never get drunk when we go out together, Y/N.” And while that was a true statement, you very clearly remember seeing Changbin taking shots and ordering drinks with you. You’d gone for your usual variety of brightly colored fruity drinks, and Changbin had had drink after drink of what you’d assumed at the time was vodka.

“Not even once?”

“Someone’s gotta keep an eye out for you. And who better than me?”

You ducked your head again, your hair coming untucked from behind your ear to make a curtain between the two of you again. Hearing that Changbin had secretly been looking out for you for so long without you knowing was flattering. He really cared about you, and had for a lot longer than you’d realized.

When you kissed him again it caught him off guard, but he quickly caught on. “I want to be with you,” you said against his lips, not wanting to pull back for longer than was strictly necessary. “I like you a lot, please.”

Changbin held your face between his hands to keep you in place while he pulled back. “You don’t even have to ask – I’m yours.”

directory

#fanfic #fan fic #skz #stray kids #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fan fic #skz fic #skz fanfic #skz fan fic #changbin #seo changbin #skz au #stray kids au #mine

21 notes · View notes

peachdues · 2 years ago

Text

I Want You, I Need You (NSFW)

Requested for Sanemi x Y/N • Rengoku x Y/N • Giyuu x Y/N by @stuckinthewrongworld

Come get your food, you skanks.

CW: explicit sexual content for all three. Sanemi is princess slut in this. Rengoku is an angy boy (some mild hate-fucking). Giyuu is emotional. Condoms are non-existent, cre @ mpies all around. Exhibitionism in Sanemi’s (more like public sex), and hurt/comfort in Giyuu’s. MDNI. Read below the cut.

Reblogs, tags, and comments always appreciated! Love you all 🍑🌸🤍

Sanemi

Sanemi Shinazugawa hated quickies with a passion. He much preferred to have his girlfriend spread out over his chosen piece of furniture, completely at his mercy, where he was free to take as much time with her as he wanted, thank you very much.

But then his girlfriend had strode into his apartment wearing that fucking dress for his office’s charity gala, the satin one that clung to every dip and curve of her just fucking right, and Sanemi’s mouth had gone dry.

Even an hour after arriving, Sanemi is still struggling to conceal the hardness in his tuxedo pants that grows ever more demanding with every passing second.

It doesn’t help that half the men and women in his office keep eyeing Y/N like she was a goddamn meal and they haven’t eaten in days.

Y/N certainly hadn’t fucking helped his predicament when she’d slid past him to grab a drink from the bar, only for her ass to brush against his stiffening length. She’d frozen for a moment, surprised at just how tightly wound her boyfriend had been, but then the little succubus had ground the supple curve of her ass back against him once, and Sanemi nearly came in his pants.

One look at her devilish smirk had him closing his hand around her wrist and practically tugging her through the throng of his subordinates and co-workers gathered at the museum, to find somewhere — anywhere — private where he could give it right back to her.

Sanemi had found such a secluded corner in the back of coatcheck, and had wasted no time in pushing Y/N up against the farthest wall from the entrance and shoving the long skirt of her dress aside. He’d been pleased that the one she’d selected to wear that evening had a daring little slit that went nearly to her thigh — it’d made pulling that scrap of lace she called a thong to the side all the easier.

“D’you want me, baby?” He’d snarled in her ear as he shoved his fingers between her thighs to run them over her damp slit, pleased that she was just as turned on as he.

Y/N’s eyes were wide with lust, and she let out the sexiest fucking high-pitched mewl ever to grace Sanemi’s ears, nodding enthusiastically.

“Good,” he’d growled, fumbling with the opening of his tuxedo pants as he shoved them down just far enough to release his fully erect length, red and leaking in demand as he brought it against her slick, euphoric heat. “‘Cuz I fuckin’ need you.”

And that was how the couple found themselves in the back of the museum’s coat room, tucked behind the last rack of fancy coats and scarves, Y/N pressed against the wall and her thong pulled to the side while Sanemi thrust savagely up into her.

It was true, he hated quickies — but something about the thought of taking Y/N to a secluded corner and fucking her senseless while the threat of being caught loomed, made Sanemi’s cock even harder than it already was, plunging in and out of her satiny heat.

And given the lewd squelching of Y/N’s cunt as his cock drives in and out of her at record pace, it seemed his girlfriend would be inclined to agree with him; this was fucking hot.

“Your pussy is so fuckin’ perfect,” Sanemi grunts in her ear as he pushes her thigh back firmly against the wall they’re braced against. “And all wet for me.”

Y/N’s hands greedily roam the planes of his torso, concealed beneath his tuxedo shirt. She opens her mouth to respond when the motion-sensor hall light outside of the coat room clicks on, voices of museum patrons not too far away.

The voices draw nearer as Sanemi’s thrusts grow sloppier and Y/N clenches tighter around him. Her pretty lips fall open in a perfect “o” and Sanemi knows she’s about to start making those high-pitched, breathy moans she always makes just before she cums.

As much as it pains him, he frees his hand from its grip under her thigh and closes it over her mouth, stifling the sounds as they begin to bubble up her throat.

But that hand had been keeping her leg pinned to the wall, and Y/N is too fucked out of her mind to keep it up herself. Her foot comes to rest back on the floor, leg wobbling precariously in her strappy heels as she tries to hold herself upright.

Unfortunately for Sanemi, their new position now causes Y/N’s succulent cunt to clench him even tighter, and Sanemi knows he’s only a few pumps away from unloading into her warmth, and those damnable voices are still getting closer.

Of fucking course they chose to duck behind the rack that housed the coat this particular guest needed right fucking then.

Sanemi brings his lips to the back of the hand he has covering Y/N’s mouth, his teeth breaking his skin as he bites down in an effort to keep his groans in check. The sight, is apparently too overwhelming for Y/N, because suddenly the walls of her velvety cunt are spasming around him, and the only part of her eyes Sanemi can see are the whites as they roll back into her head with the force of her orgasm.

Her legs quiver beneath him and the vibration sends Sanemi hurtling over the edge, his eyes squeezing tight as his cock spurts within Y/N’s honeyed core.

“Ah, here we are, ticket 1915! For Mr. Ubayashiki!” The coat check attendant chirps.

Sanemi’s eyes fly open at the name. The coat rack he’d taken Y/N behind was not just any coat rack.

No. It was the rack for his fucking boss. And now, his boss and the poor attendant, who most certainly is not being paid enough for his services, are about to be exposed to Sanemi Shinazugawa’s bare ass while he’s in the middle of unloading inside his girlfriend.

In a last-ditch, desperate attempt to preserve what remains of his tattered dignity, Sanemi blindly grabs a handful of coats and shoved them forward, praying to whatever gods there might be that Mr. Ubyashiki’s is near the front.

Whether by dumb luck or divine intervention, the coat check attendant does not need to dig too far in the rack to find Mr. Ubayashiki’s coat. The footsteps pad away and both Sanemi and Y/N look to one another and exhale against his hand, relaxing in relief.

Sanemi waits until the coat check attendant flips the light of the room off before he dares to pull out.

“Shit, sorry,” Sanemi tries to brush a bead of his cum that accidentally drops onto the side of Y/N’s dress as his seed begins to trickle down her thighs. His softened cock still hanging out of his pants, Sanemi grabs a small handkerchief from his pocket and reaches between his girlfriend’s quivering legs to wipe away the excess, before fixing her thong. “You okay?”

Y/N nods, a delicate blush on her cheeks as Sanemi tucks himself back into his pants. Her hands flutter up to her hair, smoothing it down before she gasps, fingers flying to her lips.

“How’s my lipstick?” Y/N worries, grabbing his hand and forcing Sanemi to look closely at that sinful mouth of hers.

The outline of her lips still has traces of red that is slightly smudged, but the pillowy softness of her lips are her natural color.

In other words, Y/N looks as though she’d just been thoroughly kissed.

“Oh no,” Y/N’s eyes widen as mortification begins to settle over her.

But Sanemi came prepared.

“Ah, ah,” he tuts, reaching into the pocket of his pants to withdraw the small black tube containing his girlfriend’s chosen lip color for the evening. He feels a smug sense of pride at the way her shoulders visibly relax, a relieved smile spreading across her lips.

Y/N moves to take her lipstick from his hand, but Sanemi pulls it back, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as Y/N furrows her eyebrows at him in question.

“Part your lips for me, darlin’,” he murmurs, and his pride multiplies at the way Y/N’s cheeks turn pink, her eyes darting from the hand clutching the tube and back to him.

Slowly, Y/N’s sensual lips part, and Sanemi uses his free hand to grip her gently — but possessively — under her chin to hold her still. Still holding the lipstick in his hand, he leans in and slants his mouth over hers, his tongue darting quickly between her relaxed lips to stroke her own. He feels himself begin to harden once more at the soft, surprised gasp that he swallows as his tongue licks the roof of her mouth before he pulls away once more.

Seamlessly, Sanemi pops the lid of her lipstick off with the same hand he holds it with, and brings the rouge to her mouth, gently patting the pigment against her still-parted lips as he’d seen her do countless times before.

Y/N’s eyes never leave his face, and though Sanemi is fixated entirely on her mouth, he knows that were he to look, he would see the same renewed heat for him in her gaze as he feels stirring in his blood.

Fuck, he loves her. He thinks he should marry her.

Finally, Sanemi steps back, satisfied with his job, closes the tube, and slips it back into his pocket.

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” Sanemi shakes his head, hand reaching to take hers gently in his as he leads her back to the main floor of the museum. “Thank god you’re wearin’ white.”

Y/N squeezes the fingers interlaced with hers and Sanemi looks back to see that glint in her eye — the one that means trouble for him.

“When we get home — payback.” She promises, and Sanemi nearly hauls her ass out of the gala right then, knowing that “payback” meant Y/N would be tying his arms and legs to the posts of his bed and riding him ten ways to Sunday.

Just as the two cross the threshold back into the main gallery, Sanemi slips his hand against her ass and squeezes, roughly. “Bring it on, baby.” He taunts.

This time, it’s Y/N who turns on her heel, grabs his arm, and tugs him behind her, Sanemi smiling with abandon the whole way to the car.

Rengoku

“I don’t know what you want, Rengoku.” Y/N’s voice was hard, even as her eyes stung with the burn of unshed tears. “You’re a riddle I can’t figure out how to decipher, and I’m done trying.”

With that, Y/N turned away and made to leave his apartment for good. She was tired — so very tired of never being his priority; of him choosing anyone and anything but her. Whether it was his father, his brother, his job, his friends, or those boys he mentored, Y/N had grown tired of being relegated to the bottom of Rengoku’s list. He’d exhausted all of her resources, always stringing her along with lofty promises that he cared for her, that she was important to him, and yet she never found herself being used as anything but a last resort.

He wouldn’t even commit to dating her, for God’s sake. And so, she was done.

She’d just managed to wrench the front door open when a large hand shot past her head and slammed it shut once more. Y/N’s mouth opened in indignation, ready to curse the man at her back, but his other hand closed around her upper arm, whipping her back around before his mouth slams down over hers, angry and desperate.

She didn’t kiss him back at first, her thoughts too jumbled and her heart too angry, but Rengoku’s fire had always raged too hot, had always consumed everyone and everything that crossed his path. Y/N was no different; she’d burned for him from the start.

And so, Y/N finds herself giving in to his fervid lips and roaming hands, the anger they both felt charging the air around them, adding a further level of heat to their combustible romance.

“I want you,” Rengoku growls against her neck, as he makes quick work removing her sweater, and then her dress, the heat of his hands branding her bare skin, marking her as his. “I want you.”

Y/N only moans in response, any coherent thought left in her head dissolving as Rengoku’s teeth nip across her breasts, as he pushes her up against the door she’d tried to leave out of — tried to leave him.

Y/N’s hands are greedy as she unbuckles Rengoku’s belt and fumbles with the button of his trousers. She heaves a wanton sigh when her fingers slip past the fabric and connect with the thatch of coarse hair and heated steel within, his cock heavy and throbbing in her hand. Rengoku’s deep groan has her wetness dampening her underwear, and the two tear the last shreds of fabric from the other, frantic to feel.

“I want you.” He repeats, again and again.

Rengoku hauls her up against the door, and her legs wrap easily around his hips because this is a waltz they’ve danced so many times before. He does not bother to use his fingers to prepare her, far too enraptured in his own desire to wait to sheathe himself within her any longer.

“I want you,” his teeth nip at her bottom lip, demanding she open up to him, as his tip presses against her throbbing entrance. “And I fucking need you, Y/N.”

As his tongue slides into her waiting mouth, Rengoku buries his cock within her, and Y/N doesn’t care if she will always be his last resort, not if he’ll keep fucking her like this.

His hips ruthlessly snap in and out of her and fuck, she loves it, loves the way he knows how to fuck her just right so that she’s a whimpering, moaning mess. She loves him. He is pounding melody into her that only he knows, her spine digging into the hard surface of his front door which rattles in its setting. Vaguely, Y/N is aware that everyone on the street can probably hear the way she screams his name, can hear his animalistic snarls and grunts and moans as he whispers how fucking perfect she is and how good she feels clenching around him.

“Stay,” he beseeches her, in between the sharp, thrusts of his cock into her heat, so deep that she fears he will be able to imprint himself on her very soul. “Stay. With me.”

Y/N’s legs tighten around his hips as Rengoku’s hand shoves between their bodies to connect with her aching clit. It only takes him one, two circles and a gentle press of his thumb to have Y/N coming apart around him, giving herself fully into his relentless fire that she knows, deep in her heart, she will never escape.

“You’re mine,” Rengoku growls in her ear, her release coating his groin and making the sounds of his skin slapping against hers wetter, more obscene. “Say it.”

Y/N only cries out, her cunt a sloppy mess as the thrust of Rengoku’s hips into her grow more forceful as his release nears.

“Say it,” beneath his possessive snarl is the edge of desperation, as though he knows she already has one foot out the door that he now fucks her against.

“Y-yours,” she says feebly. “I’m yours, ah, Rengoku.”

Her oath is all Rengoku needs to unleash his seed within her, his hips giving one last mighty slam up before stilling, a loud, deep groan of her name reverberating in her ears as he presses his body flush against hers.

She wishes she could regret it, but she’s long-since resigned herself to the whim of her heart.

And so, Y/N stays.

Giyuu

Y/N finds that sleep evades her most nights.

At least, such is the case here, at the end of her life.

When she was eighteen, twenty-five had seemed so very far away; almost intangible. Not real, not attainable.

At the time, she’d not given it much thought. The Star Hashira had no ties, no bonds, that’d survived until the sun rose and they emerged victorious. So when that silvery, six-pointed star appeared right between her brow, she’d not mourned her fate. After all, it hadn’t even been certain they would win at all.

She’d lost consciousness before Tanjiro had temporarily become a Demon himself, and she woke up a month later with most of her friends dead. Of the Hashira who’s fought, only three survived — herself, and the Wind and Water Pillars.

She’d respected both of them, though she’d not been particularly close to either. But shared trauma can form bonds just as sure as any other experience, and so, she’d grown close with both men upon their respective reawakenings.

Sanemi’d grown to be a close older brother-figure, a steadfast and warm presence in her life, even if he still bore traces of that occasional hot-headedness. But his mark had claimed him three years prior, and with him, he’d taken half of her remaining heart.

The other half, however, belonged to the raven-haired man sleeping soundly beside her in their futon, beautiful and serene.

Though, it wouldn’t be fair to say that he’d come to possess the entire half of her heart — he now shared it with the sleeping toddler in the next room, the spitting image of her father, though she’d inherited Y/N’s eyes.

By some miracle, Giyuu’s mark hadn’t activated even during that final battle, meaning that he’d passed his 25th birthday with ease, welcoming their first — and now, only — child shortly after.

They hadn’t been close at the time Y/N’s mark appeared, nor had he’d noticed during that final battle, given how light and delicate that cursed star had been.

It was perhaps selfish of her to not tell him her fate, but then again, she hadn’t meant to fall in love with him.

Y/N rolled over in their blankets to face her sleeping husband. He lay on his back, head tilted towards her, with the most peaceful expression upon his lovey face. He was as bare as she, though she’d recently taken to wearing his haori after they’d finished their more physical activities, Y/N claiming that she’d desired nothing more than to be enveloped by his scent.

That’d been true — but moreso because she wanted to etch the smell of home into every cell within her. It was why she’d spent so many mornings with her nose buried in her daughter’s hair, as she held her close.

Perhaps the gods would be kind enough to allow her to take these treasured mementos with her to the afterlife, when death came to call in its debt.

How could they have imagined the price of their victory?

Y/N could feel the panic within her begin to bubble and churn, as the deadline on her life drew ever closer — now, a mere two months away. If she could not get the howl of her despair to quiet, she’d risk waking Giyuu and causing him to worry. He is already beginning to stir, his Hashira-trained instincts responding to her palpable restlessness.

But Y/N knows how to conceal her anguish. She lifts her hand to gently caress the side of her dearly beloved’s face, who grunted in response to her touch. Slowly, she let her hand trail downward, fingers tracing teasingly along elegant slope of his nose, to the sensual pout of his lips.

As she grazes his lower lips, Giyuu, barely conscious, presses gentle kisses against her fingertips, and Y/N nearly dissolves into tears.

Still, she lets her hand continue to trace along the well-traveled plains of his body. Her fingers brush against the edge of the blanket draped over his lower hips letting them linger teasingly.

“Y/N,” Giyuu’s voice is rough with sleep, but the corded muscles of his abdomen flex beneath her touch.

“I want you,” Y/N breathes as her hand slipped beneath the covers of their futon to grip his growing hardness. She leans over and brushes her lips against the hollow of his throat, and let her tongue trail teasingly down his sternum.

Giyuu’s response is a low growl, as he grabs her by the jaw, pulling her up to kiss her roughly, greedily, before flipping her onto her back and covering her with his body, alive and eager for her after a few gentle caresses.

Her legs part easily to accommodate Giyuu’s hips as they come to a rest against hers, his length brushing against her heated cunt so deliciously that neither can help moaning in unison.

As Giyuu aligns his tip with her entrance, Y/N brings her lips to his throat, teeth nipping at that sensitive spot just above his adam’s apple.

“I need you,” she whispers, and Giyuu slides home in a single, fluid motion, the tendons in his neck tightening in his restraint.

But Y/N does not want him to be restrained. She wants him to feel her love, so that maybe, just maybe, he won’t hate her when the time comes, in a matter of weeks, when she does not awaken beside him.

She hooks her leg around Giyuu’s backside and flips them, her hips dropping effortlessly down his length as she begins to ride him, her husband’s head falling back against his pillow in bliss. His hand comes to rest against her waist, steadying her, though he allows it to wander to her breasts or to squeeze at her ass every so often.

As she increases the pace of her hips, dropping and rolling and grinding against him, so too, does the frequency of the noises which fall from her beloved’s mouth. Y/N savors the breathy moans and whines and grunts that Giyuu makes as he begins to buck up into her, shamelessly chasing his own release.

She loves it when he’s as needy for her as she is for him.

Giyuu’s fingers find that bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs and they swirl and press against her in a way that has her head falling back, his name a prayer on her lips. She wants him to come with her, so she braces her feet flat against their futon, bouncing herself up and down the length of his cock, shiny with her slick, because she knows he likes to watch himself disappear in, and out of her.

The walls of her core tighten around him, and Giyuu finds nirvana first, his head thrown back and a loud moan for her tearing from his throat. The sight leads to her own undoing, with Y/N free-falling off the precipice of her pleasure after him, her cunt seizing around him as though he was her lifeline.

Giyuu has a sleepy smile on his face as his hips roll lazily up into her, his hand coming to stroke the soft part of her belly as he muses that perhaps this time his seed will take again, and they can give their daughter a new sibling.

She doesn’t have the heart to tell him she’s been taking a tea that will prevent that from happening, ever since she’d passed her 24th birthday. It would seem too cruel to risk dying in childbirth, potentially taking their unborn child with her.

In truth, she was secretly glad to have had their precious daughter before Y/N was forced to leave him. Not only was the little girl the beautiful, physical manifestation of her parent’s love, but she would serve as her father’s anchor to life, here.

If that made Y/N selfish and wicked, then so be it. She’d never claimed to be good.

But damn, if she hadn’t hoped for more time.

As she collapses against her husband’s chest, spent and satisfied, as his hand comes up to delicately trace over her spine, she feels the familiar prickle of tears behind her eyelids. She buries her face deeper into her husband’s neck, hoping his scent will steady her as it so often does.

Giyuu murmurs against her forehead how much he loves her, how much he cherishes her and their family, and the tears begin to fall. She hopes she can pass off the droplets gathering on her cheeks as the product of pleasure or happiness, rather than that of the cold despair and bitter sorrow she feels as her end draws near.

But then again, they’d been running on borrowed time anyways.

I hope you enjoyed your weekly addition of slutty-angsty-pain with yours, truly.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer smut #hashira #demon slayer hashira #rengoku kyojuro #shinazugawa sanemi #tomioka giyuu #kny fanfic #kny x reader #kny sanemi #kny giyuu #kny rengoku

1K notes · View notes

whatdoyouwanttocallmefor · 1 month ago

Text

Chapter 1: The Assignment

Hello!! So, this is the first chapter for the Shadow of Their Light. It's pretty hard to write, not gonna lie. I got a writer block in the middle and honestly I don't even know when will I finish this..sobs.. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!!!

Warning: This chapter contains themes of past trauma, emotional repression, physical violence, injury, and mild depictions of blood. There are also moments of emotional vulnerability, fear of abandonment, and internalized guilt. Please read with care if any of these topics are sensitive for you.

Genre: Slow-burn angst, action, emotional drama, found family, and soft romance.

---

The rain painted streaks on the windows of the black SUV as it made its way through the outskirts of Seoul, a quiet hum of tires against wet pavement providing the only sound. You sat in the back seat, spine straight, eyes focused, hands gloved and resting neatly in your lap. The dossier in your bag was already memorized, eight subjects, international idols, known collectively as Stray Kids. Their schedule, backgrounds, known enemies, potential threats. Every step they would take in the next six months had been laid out like a dance routine, and it was your job to keep them safe, invisible.

"Codename: Guardian," your handler had said. "You don't speak unless necessary. You don’t appear unless it’s life or death. You protect them from the shadows. That’s all."

You had accepted the mission with no questions. Missions like this weren’t new to you, but the detail that made you hesitate though you’d never admit it was the unique clause: Maintain casual, friendly communication via secure messenger to gain and preserve the targets’ trust. Use only text. Never reveal personal information.

For someone like you blunt, sharp-edged, and mostly unbothered by personal connections this was the hardest part.

The vehicle pulled into a private garage beneath a secured apartment complex where the members were housed. You watched quietly as the security team handed you your clearance card. They looked at you like they always did intimidated. Not because of your looks or posture, but because your reputation preceded you.

The 'Ice Widow,' they whispered. The one who had walked out of a burning facility dragging two injured agents and one stolen hard drive. The one who never cracked a smile and never missed a shot.

You hated that name.

Your surveillance apartment was directly across the hall from the group. From your window, you could see into their living room when the curtains weren’t drawn. Your systems were already running, motion sensors, hidden cameras (non-invasive, per strict guidelines), emergency audio receivers.

You knew this wasn’t protection. This was containment. The agency didn’t just want them safe. They wanted to know everything about them. And you were the weapon they had placed between comfort and chaos.

Still, watching them through glass and screens made something ache. You saw their personalities unfold in real time: Chan’s dependable leadership, Hyunjin’s dramatic flair, Jeongin’s innocent jokes, Felix’s golden warmth. They were loud, chaotic, and so painfully alive.

And you were... not.

The first message came on Day 5. Sent by Chan.

[CB97] Hello? Is this the person assigned to us?

You stared at the blinking cursor. The agency encouraged replies. Casual trust-building. But how did someone like you begin a conversation with someone like him?

You hesitated, then typed:

[Guardian] Yes.

Seconds later, another message popped up.

[CB97] ...That’s it?

You sighed and set your phone down.

But that wasn’t the end of it.

The next few days brought more pings.

[quokkaJisung] sooo are u like… Batman?

[foxI.N] do you eat normal food or just protein bars and bullets lol

[felixsunshine] thank you for the coffee delivery yesterday TT

You didn’t respond to all of them, but occasionally, you dropped one-line answers. Enough to keep them from reporting you uncooperative. Still, they didn’t seem scared of your cold tone. In fact, they seemed to like pestering you.

[l3eknow] your texting sucks

[Guardian] not my job to entertain you

[l3eknow] then what is it

[Guardian] to keep you alive

[l3eknow] dramatic. i like it

It was strange. In your silence, they grew more talkative. Sharing snippets of their day, weird inside jokes, even asking you if you ate dinner. You didn’t know how to respond, so you didn’t. But you read every message.

And one night, around 2 AM, Chan messaged again.

[CB97] Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think we all feel safer knowing you’re there.

You sat there in the glow of the monitors, something tight forming in your chest.

[Guardian] Don’t rely on me too much. You’ll be disappointed.

[CB97] Sounds like something someone kind would say.

You stared at the words long after the screen dimmed.

Back at HQ, they called you in for a physical recon run.

"You’ve been too passive," the lead officer said. "We need confirmation you can still operate in the field."

So you did. You chased down a black-market supplier five blocks across a marketplace, bruised your ribs disarming him, and returned with proof of an upcoming plot involving Stray Kids' upcoming concert.

You didn’t tell them about the bruises. But when the group asked in chat where you’d been all day, you lied.

[Guardian] Overslept.

[quokkaJisung] omg you sleep?? I thought you powered down like Iron Man

[Guardian] Funny.

[felixsunshine] I hope you had good dreams

You didn’t dream. You never did. But that night, when you curled under the blanket in your dark room, a new message appeared.

[CB97] Sweet dreams, Guardian. We’ll see you in the morning.

You hadn’t realized until then, you were smiling.

And you hated how much that scared you.

---

TAGLIST: @maddy24207 @bangchans-bbl @m-325 (The line one meaning I can't tag you) :((

21 notes · View notes

c0ld-d3ad-heart · 2 months ago

Note

Avengers Tower, 3:17 a.m. The hallways hum with low power, motion sensor lights flickering as Charlotte’s heels tap softly against marble. Eight years in Florence have aged her in grace and fire. The glass doors slide open to the common room—empty, save for the soft glow of city lights bleeding through panoramic windows. But then—

This isn’t how she pictured her return.

No grand reunion. No Tony Stark in a robe cracking half-asleep jokes. No father waiting with a cup of coffee and those tired, knowing eyes. Just the scent of aged oak and something sharper—Bourbon?

Her gaze sharpens. There’s a man at the edge of the room, back turned, broad shoulders hunched over the bar like the weight of the world never left him. The metal arm catches the low light.

“You’re not him.”

She says it softly. Like admitting a secret.

The stranger turns, shadows carving out the lines of James Buchanan Barnes—scruff, a scar just past his jaw, and eyes that have seen war, silence, and something like longing. Bourbon sloshes gently in his glass.

Her hand tightens around the strap of her bag, but her voice doesn’t shake.

“I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything..."

A beat.

“I found out a little too late that dad wasn't supposed to be here...I just didn't know...anybody else would be here at all...”

-- @just-like-her-father

Never did sleep. Not enough melatonin in the world to put him under. Maybe he was a little high strung.

Screw it.

He took another swig of his drink, hearing the soft foot falls of someone coming closer to the room where he was hiding thinking.

"Who are you?" He rumbles, staring at the woman, his metal hand shifting as he tenses for a fight.

#Dark James barnes #winter soldier #Marvel rp #Recovery #Mcu #Asks #james buchanan barnes

52 notes · View notes

remae-freyae · 1 month ago

Text

Rules are Suggestions

The lights in the hallway flickered as Person B caught up, breathless, only to find Person A kneeling beside a keypad panel with a stolen ID badge in one hand and what suspiciously looked like a chocolate bar wrapper jammed into the card reader.

Person B stared, exasperated. “Is this legal?”

Without looking up, Person A replied casually, “Legal-ish.”

Person B blinked. “What does legal-ish even mean?”

The panel beeped and the door hissed open like it resented being part of the plan. Person A flashed a smirk and said, “Nobody important has complained yet.”

Groaning, Person B followed them inside, fully aware this was either going to end in disaster or headlines—and probably both. The archive room was bathed in that eerie government-issue fluorescent lighting, the kind that made everything feel both sacred and deeply cursed.

“You know this is technically a felony,” Person B muttered, watching as Person A ducked beneath a motion sensor and used a half-eaten Twizzler to tap something on the console.

“So is jaywalking if you do it with enough confidence,” came the reply, delivered with a wink and the kind of tone that suggested this wasn’t even the weirdest part of their night.

“That is not how the law works,” Person B hissed, already feeling like they needed a nap, a lawyer, and maybe a sedative.

Person A just shrugged, tossing a classified folder into their bag with the nonchalance of someone picking up groceries. “That’s why I bring you. You remember rules. I make things happen.”

And as Person B stood there, helplessly watching their partner in crime—or justice, depending on how blurry the lines got tonight—they couldn’t help but wonder if falling in love with a chaos goblin was karmic punishment... or the best mistake they’d ever made.

#writeblr #writing inspiration #writblr #writerblr #writing prompts #dialogue prompts #mine #prompt list #prompt themes #person a and person b #chaos goblins

13 notes · View notes

rinixo · 1 year ago

Text

auxilium

Tech/Reader | 2.1k | Rated E | smut, desperation, choking, dom!Tech, sex pollen

Tech needs your assistance in dealing with a problem you are all too familiar with. a/n: thank you all for the comments and reblogs 🥺

read on ao3

The persistent knock at your door jolted you from slumber's embrace. With a groggy eye, you checked the time, puzzled by the unexpected disturbance at this hour. You were not expecting anyone, and it was not uncommon for someone stumbling home from the bars to mistake your door for their own.

Another insistent rap echoed, urging you to rise. Rubbing away sleep, you approached the door, activating the sensor to reveal its caller.

A shock of blond hair greeted you. "Omega?" Surprise flickered as you took in her presence, rarely seen without her protective entourage of brothers.

"Tech sent me to fetch you. Says he needs your help," she explained, a bounce in her step.

Raising a brow, you inquired, "Help with what?"

"Dunno," she shrugged. "We just got back from a mission. He said it’s urgent."

A tinge of concern pricked your senses, but you nodded, excusing yourself to prepare. Unsure of what Tech could require, you hastily gathered an assortment of tools, stuffing them into your pack just in case.

Omega chattered incessantly as you made your way to the hangar, but your thoughts were elsewhere, mulling over the possibilities. Tech, with his incredible intellect, rarely sought assistance. Yet here you were, summoned for some unknown crisis.

Upon reaching the hangar, you found the Marauder parked in its usual spot, but Tech was conspicuously absent. Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo loitered nearby, each absorbed in their own tasks.

"What's the situation?" you inquired as you approached. Hunter glanced up from sharpening his knife, acknowledging your presence.

"Dunno. Tech asked for you. He's inside," he gestured towards the closed ramp.

"Is everything all right?"

"He's being a jerk," Wrecker grumbled, busy with a crate of explosives. "Been like that since we got back."

"Kicked us out of the Marauder," Echo added. "Said not to return until he says so.”

What an odd situation, you thought to yourself. Most of the time it was others taking time away from Tech, not the other way around. And while he could be blunt, he was rarely outright rude or mean.

With a groan, Hunter rose and motioned to the rest of the squad. ”We’re grabbing a bite to eat, freshening up supplies," Hunter explained, patting your shoulder as he passed. You thought you detected a smirk before he turned away. ”Good luck.”

—

The Marauder's door whispered shut, leaving you in the subdued light of the corridor. A peculiar tension hung in the air.

"Tech? It's me," you called tentatively into the quiet.

"Up here," his voice directed you toward the front of the ship. Tech's familiar silhouette was outlined against the closed shutters.

Approaching the cockpit, you spoke again, uncertainty coloring your words. "Omega said you needed me? I brought some tools -"

"They won't be necessary," Tech cut in. As you neared, you could see him seated in the pilot's chair, hands clasped in front of his mouth. His brow was furrowed as if in concentration, though his gaze remained fixed on the floor.

"What's going on? Are you hurt?" you asked, setting your pack down.

“No," came his flat response. "Not exactly." His tone was flat, controlled and measured, but you got the feeling he was trying very hard to keep it that way.

You observed a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, his leg bouncing with nervous energy.

More tense silence. Patiently, you awaited his explanation.

"We were acquiring a shipment of a certain plant, known for inducing a hypnotic effect when distilled. While in the greenhouses, I was unexpectedly exposed to it."

"I made a… miscalculation," Tech continued, his voice strained. "I didn't anticipate such a visceral reaction to its raw form."

"What do you mean?" you prompted gently.

"I suspect that, in normal individuals, the reaction would resemble the amatory agent you encountered in that abandoned outpost. But for me, an enhanced clone -" He paused, exhaling sharply through his nose.

"I'm not certain, but I believe its effects were amplified within my nervous system," he explained. “I was designed with enhanced intellect. My brain works faster and more efficiently than others. And it seems that instead of impacting me less, metabolizing faster, it impacted me more.”

A beat of silence stretched between you, anxiety beginning to grip your chest. "That sounds… unpleasant," you offered sympathetically.

He exhaled through his nose in an exasperated attempt at a laugh. ”Normal decontamination procedures didn't work," Tech explained, his voice carrying a weight of urgency. "I tried several antitoxins. I only have one option left, which is why I asked for you."

His head lifted, revealing a desperation in his eyes that you hadn't seen before. Behind the tint of his goggles, his dilated pupils betrayed his distress.

"Please understand that you can refuse," he said, his jaw tense with effort. "I debated whether I should even ask this of you, considering what it could do to you - to us."

You understood his unspoken request, though a part of you hesitated. Another bead of sweat traced down his jaw. You thought about how lucky you had been to have Tech to help you with your situation. Sometimes, late at night, you thought about what would have happened if he wasn’t there to help, and with resolve, you decided.

"Of course," you said, swallowing hard and setting down your bag. "I'll help you, Tech."

Relief softened his features slightly as he rose from his seat, replaced by a dark intensity. You stepped back slightly, shorter form quickly dwarfed in comparison to his height.

"You're the only person I trust for this," he murmured, voice cracking. Moving towards you, Tech took your hands. Guiding you towards the rear of the ship where the bunks were located, he used a slight stumble as an excuse to hold you more firmly.

"It's going to worsen before it gets better," you warned as Tech helped remove your top.

"I do not like losing control of my faculties," he admitted, his voice strained. "This is…difficult for me."

"I understand," you reassured him, more clothes slipping off as you moved towards your destination.

There was a flash of desperation in his eyes before he turned you around and guided you onto a low cot.

"Forgive my haste," Tech said, his voice stilted as he pulled down your undergarments. The sound of his own clothes hitting the floor followed.

You were not exactly ready for it when he entered you, and there was a slight burn and pinch as he settled into place behind you. Your breath hitched, and you bit down on the pillow you were clutching and winced through it.

Tech hissed out some unintelligible curses, his form coming down to press against you. His cock felt like iron, pressed in as far as it could go. You tried to spread your thighs wider, allowing him more space to chase relief.

He settled his face into the crook of your neck, and you could feel the rumble of the groan that left him.

“You’re so good,” he breathed out. “So good…” You flushed at his words, remembering how it felt the first time he had touched you. If Tech’s reaction was compounded, as he theorized, then you could only imagine how being inside of you was making him feel now. The initial feeling of relief was barely more than an afterthought once the need for further stimulation took over.

He was rambling, nonsensical professions of how tight, wet, perfect you were. His breath was hot against your ear, perfect composure betrayed by the substance coursing through his body.

It was animalistic, how he was mounted over you. Tech was someone you did not initially associate with ferocity. He was calculating, and intense. You would even venture so far as to call him egotistical and devious at times. His strengths were far more internal than external, but as he moved his entire weight over your body, the only word you could think of was fury.

Fury at his inability to solve this problem on his own. Fury at his incredible capacity for intelligence and logic being overrun by forces outside of his control. You knew how it felt because you had felt it yourself, in your own way, all those months ago in a dusty storeroom.

“I saw visions,” Tech croaked from where he had his face buried in the side of your neck. You tried to focus your eyesight. “From the plant. D-did you…?”

“N-no,” you managed to gasp out, breath hitching with every thrust. The desperation, the intense burning in your blood, the mindless pursuit of satisfaction, yes, but visions had not been a part of your experience.

A shallow laugh, and he brought his face up from your skin. “Under different circumstances, perhaps I would have a better explanation for what they were exactly.”

Suddenly he moved from inside of you, and before you could collect yourself you were flipped over onto your back. Tech hovered above you, spreading your legs to let himself back between.

“Whatever they were,” Tech breathed as he sheathed himself back into you, “I did not fully comprehend the meaning of desire before now.”

He lifted your leg up, still thrusting slowly into you. He pressed his lips gently to the side of your knee, staring at you with dark, hooded eyes.

You couldn’t tear your gaze away from his. This was a side of Tech you had never seen.

One of his hands came to settle across your exposed neck. You swallowed roughly, feeling his hand move with the motion. It was not hard enough to hurt or do any damage, but the pressure was unfamiliar. The sensation of your airway being ever so slightly restricted reminded you that the man currently fucking you was dangerous, powerful. He was someone designed to analyze every detail, to come up with solutions to problems before they even happened, for winning battles other soldiers would have lost.

His hand moved up, a thumb caressing the curve of your jaw, and you closed your eyes with the motion of it.

He had your life in his hands. He was using you, and you were letting him because you trusted this man utterly. Even with his current state, you could feel the genuine affection he had towards you. He was rough, straddling the line, but you knew, deeply knew, that he would never willingly hurt you.

Here, now, he was no longer a soldier, a carefully constructed intellectual weapon designed for war. He was simply a man, reduced to his most basic, instinctual needs. And you were the only being in the galaxy who he sought to sate the fire inside of him.

The hand that was holding your leg up moved to where he was pistoning in and out of you, and rubbed his thumb over your clit.

“Is it like this for everyone?” Tech’s voice is hoarse. You frown up at him, unsure of what he means. His eyes flutter, then close. He’s lost in between your thighs, that ironclad resolve long gone with every squeeze of your cunt around him.

You know he’s close. You’ve learned his tells - his brow furrows, exaggerating the lines ever-present in his forehead. His hips falter but his grip on you holds tighter, desperate to maintain as much control as he can.

You asked him once what his orgasm felt like. He had described to you in detail how his testicles would tighten and his cock head would grow stiff in the microseconds before ejaculation. He had you stick your finger into your mouth and suck, explaining that it was the closest you could get to experiencing the same kind of sensation. You remember the intensity that he had watched you with, eyes scanning as if to memorize the way your tongue suckled around your fingers.

The relief that comes with his orgasm is palpable. He hitches your thighs under his arms and presses his entire form into you, making you squirm and gasp. The breath is knocked out of you as he fucks his spend as deep as it will go, the burning in his blood leaving him with every rock of his body.

You spend hours there with him, moved into every position you can think of and several you couldn’t. The initial pinch of his cock into you, unprepared, is replaced by what feels like a never-ending trickle of his spend out of you.

With every orgasm, he presses his mouth to your cheeks, your eyelids, your forehead, your mouth. And you accept them with the eagerness of someone who knows they are needed, desired, yearning to be filled. You lose yourself to exhaustion long before he is sated, content in the knowledge that Tech is finding what he needs in you.

part 2+ conclusion from Tech's pov next...? _(:Ⅰ」∠)

#tbb tech x reader #tech x reader #tech smut #forgive my absence........OTL

144 notes · View notes

rafecameronsmistress · 1 year ago

Text

i want you to show me..

tw/cw: smut, name calling, oral, step brother, cnc?

it’s 2am on a weeknight and everyone in your house is asleep. you toss and turn in your bed horny and craving attention. you pull your tank top down a little exposing the pink lace of your bra and hike your tits up making your cleavage look enticing. you go on your phone and open up snapchat taking a selfie with pouty lips and sleepy eyes. “can’t sleep 😩“ you type then send it to a couple boys from your town, whom happen to be your stepbrothers best friends, Topper and Kelce. you knew if they were awake one of them was bound to answer, you were hot and they would give you what you wanted at any time of day. not even 2 minutes pass and Topper sends a picture back. he’s laying in bed, shirtless, with an arm behind his head flashing his cute smile. “sorry you can’t sleep babe, anything i can do?” score. you stand up in front of your floor length mirror, turning halfway to expose some ass that hangs out of your tiny shorts. “yeah, come over and help me 😉”. the thought of Toppers hands snaked through your hair has you getting hot and bothered. he replies now sitting up in bed with a shocked look on his face “really?”. you giggle and send another picture this time of just your bed “yes, really” you prayed he was actually going to come over or your vibrator was going to have to work over time. Toppers reply this time took way longer and you became annoyed thinking he wimped out. you flop backward onto your bed and let out a sigh, just as you start to slip your hand into your underwear you get a reply. it’s a picture of the road that says “on my way”. thank you god.

Topper is at your house within 10 minutes. he parks his Jeep in the area of the driveway where there’s no motion sensor lights, he knows the drill. you quietly open the large front door and wave him inside “hurry up” you whisper. he ducks inside and follows you down to the basement where your family has a bar, a movie projector, and large couches. you keep the lights off incase anyone wakes up, not wanting to be caught. you turn around to face him and grab his hand, walking backwards until your legs hit the couch. you lay back pulling him on top of you immediately running your hands across his stomach and up his chest. he buries his face in your neck sucking and licking your sweet spot. “mm i needed this, needed you” you tell him. he pulls his lips from your skin “yeah?” he grinds his clothed cock onto your heat. “fuck yeah” you moan at the friction, lifting your hips for more pressure. the room is encased in heavy breathing and the sound of a sloppy make out session. you push Topper on his back and bring his sweatpants and boxers just below his cock. you wrap your hand around his shaft and swallow half his length. Topper breathes in sharply “ssshit baby, that feels so good” he moans as he wraps his fingers in your hair.

“yeah, i bet it does Top” a third voice adds as the lights are switched on

you pop your mouth off his cock, your heartbeat in your throat now, “what the fuck?” you screech, scrambling to fix yourself

“shit” Topper sighs loudly “Rafe i-“

“save it, get your dick away from my little sister before i knock your fucking teeth out yeah?” Rafe threatens walking closer to the couch, Topper stands up adjusting himself and goes to say something but Rafe interjects “you have five seconds to get out of my fucking face” he grunts. Topper looks back at you with ‘sorry’ written across his frown then he turns and disappears

you stand there frozen in fear, will he tell your parents? how long was he watching? “always knew you were a little whore” he scoffs “how many of my friends have you fucked?” he cocks his head to the side. “i dont know what you want me to say i-“ you stutter, tears welling in your eyes. “i want you to answer my question” he smiles. “just Topper” you say hanging your head in embarrassment. Rafe steps into your space lifting your chin “you like sucking his dick?” you stay silent not wanting to talk about this with your step brother. he squeezes your face forcing you to look at him “you like being a slut? huh?” he laughs and gives you a light smack on the cheek, “show me what you were doing to Topper.” you stare at him wide eyed trying to comprehend what he just said “what?” you croak. “i want you to finish what you started” Rafe says. “but you’re my-“ he cuts you off finishing your sentence “i’m your stepbrother i know, and you’re just a dumb whore so it shouldn’t matter who’s dick is in your mouth” his smile is sinister now “get on your knees and continue doing your job” he demanded.

your face flushes and you feel your ears heating up. embarrassment and a little fear flooding through your body. “Rafe please” you beg as he pulls his pants down, “open your mouth” he says grabbing his lengthy cock. you comply taking all of him down your throat, vigorously bobbing your head. “yeah just like that pretty girl” he moans while collecting your hair to hold it out of your face. you bring both hands to his shaft and stroke him while you suck, catching a good rhythm. his heavy breathing and deep moans have you tingling between your legs, you squeeze them together in attempt to get some relief. so many thoughts are racing through your head the main one being ‘why am i getting off while i suck my step brothers dick?’

to be continued.. (???)

#fanfic #fem reader #obx fanfiction #outer banks #obx smut #smut #outer banks smut #rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #rafe fanfiction

61 notes · View notes

hamburgerndsprite · 14 days ago

Text

TEMPTATION ON TRIAL ✓ CH 2

“He’s falsely accused. She’s legally unhinged. Together, they’re chaos in designer suits.”

➳ Pairing: Actor! Kim Seokjin x Criminal Lawyer! Oc

Series Masterlist • Main Masterlist

Chapter 2: Eggs, Eyeliner, and Existential Crises (Breakfast at the Kim House)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Kim residence, 7:03 AM.

Peace did not live here. It once tried. It moved out after three days and left no forwarding address.

A grand, glass-walled house perched on the side of a Seoul hill like it owned the skyline. Inside: three grown men, one espresso machine with anger issues, and precisely zero working light switches because Jungkook had replaced them all with motion sensors “for efficiency” and now no one could pee without doing jumping jacks first.

“WHO. ATE. MY. AVOCADO.”

Jin’s voice echoed through the marble-floored kitchen like a divine judgment. He stood in silk pajamas and a violently offended expression, cradling an empty fridge drawer like it had personally betrayed him.

Jungkook appeared out of nowhere, shirtless, already glistening from a 6 AM workout no one asked for. “It’s not your avocado if I bought it.”

“You used my card.”

“It’s the family card!”

“I am the family!”

Somewhere in the hallway, a door creaked open. Enter Taehyung, barefoot, draped in a robe that looked suspiciously like it cost more than Jungkook’s entire gym. He paused. He stared. He blinked once.

“This energy is disgusting,” he muttered, yawning as if the chaos personally bored him. “Can’t we just scream silently?”

Jin spun. “Tell your protein mutant of a brother to stop eating my breakfast.”

“I didn’t eat the avocado,” Jungkook huffed, dramatically scooping whey protein into a mason jar like he was making witch’s brew. “I blended it.”

“WITH WHAT?”

“Your almond milk. Also Taehyung’s organic honey. Sorry, Tae.”

Taehyung sipped black coffee from a bone china teacup and said nothing. But his eyes screamed betrayal. Or hunger. Or mild amusement. Honestly, it was always hard to tell.

“Fine,” Jin snapped. “Fine. I’ll just starve. Again. Maybe that’ll help my cheekbones. God knows I’ll need them today.”

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Got another soul-crushing contract negotiation?”

“No,” Jin said, flicking his hair with the grace of a shampoo commercial. “A magazine shoot. GQ. Cover. Winter edition. I need to look expensive and dead inside.”

Jungkook clapped. “Ooh! Give them the ‘I’m rich but emotionally unavailable’ face!”

“That’s my resting face,” Taehyung muttered.

Jin opened a drawer, pulled out a full brush roll, and started doing his eyebrows in the kitchen mirror. “What are you doing today, Jeon Cardio?”

“Trainer gig at HYBE,” Jungkook said proudly. “Then my afternoon shoot with that TikTok chef. She wants me shirtless and flipping eggs.”

“She always wants you shirtless,” Taehyung deadpanned.

“And I always deliver,” Jungkook beamed.

“Where are you going?” Jin asked, adjusting his jawline contour.

Taehyung didn’t answer immediately. He stared out the window like a tragic poet waiting for a thunderstorm. “Museum first. Then the atelier. If time permits, I may spiral into a vague existential crisis.”

“Lovely,” Jin muttered. “Do it before dinner. I’m making bulgogi.”

“I’ll scream into a pillow by six,” Taehyung promised.

Somewhere between Jungkook launching a protein bar across the kitchen (“CATCH, HYUNG!”) and Jin almost stabbing him with a concealer brush, the house echoed with vibrating nonsense and faint classical music from Taehyung’s room that no one could ever locate the source of.

By 7:42 AM, chaos gave way to the morning ritual.

Jungkook chugged his third smoothie, tied his man-bun with a ripped headband, and tripped over a dumbbell on the way to the door.

“I’m off!” he shouted, striking a pose. “Tell the gym I’m coming—with vengeance!”

“You’re coming with creatine,” Taehyung muttered.

Jin slipped on a sleek designer coat, still brushing his hair. “Don’t forget to moisturize. You look like a sea sponge.”

“LOVE YOU TOO,” Jungkook yelled, halfway down the stairs.

Taehyung, now dressed in turtleneck chic, adjusted his cufflinks and drifted toward the door like a perfume commercial in motion.

“Don’t burn the house down,” he said softly.

“Try not to date anyone toxic today,” Jin called back.

“No promises.”

Finally, Jin stood alone, fixing the lapel of his trench coat. He paused. Looked at his reflection in the toaster. Practiced a smolder. Nailed it.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Let’s go be famous.”

He stepped out the door.

The house exhaled. A single avocado rolled from behind the coffee machine.

It was already too late.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Previous • Series Masterlist • Next

13 notes · View notes

luna-andra · 1 year ago

Text

The Shadows Return | Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OC Retired AU | Chapter 8: Compromise

Summary: Andra wants answers, and Ghost has to choose

Word Count: 6.5k

If this is the first time you're seeing this, Chapter 1 is here. You can find the rest on my masterlist!

Content: slow burn, eventual smut, 18+, fluff, mentions of mental health, mild violence

The clouds on the way home were overcast across the afternoon sky. Johnny left Andra with several things to think over, bringing her back to a familiar train of thought from five years ago.

He gave her the same look that stirred shame in her belly. She didn’t like being on a different level of rationality – or lack thereof – with the people once close to her.

It was declared by the officer that showed up there was no indication of foul play. The possibility of an incompetent and inconvenienced officer being sent to her call was in the forefront of her mind, and also the possibility of any traces of someone’s presence could have been washed away from the thunderstorm by the time they came out to investigate. The whole process of filing the report gave her no peace of mind, but she took the advice of setting up surveillance seriously.

A precautionary that she should have done ages ago.

The quiet, quaint life out on the farm had soothed her troubled worries all of these years, making her forget for a moment what it was like to live looking over her shoulder every moment. She wasn’t naïve, no, she knew how to take care of herself when the seldom case of harassment arose. Andra should have never gotten so comfortable the way she did.

Her foot pressed down heavily on the brake pedal as she waited at a stop light to rub the exhaustion from her eyes. She was just a few more turns from home, she reminded herself. The caffeine she had ingested all throughout the morning was threatening a big crash.

Andra drove slowly down Middleton Lane as she spotted the first right turn to the private dirt road of Ghost’s property. Then her truck came to a full stop. You know what-

Her hand turned the wheel right as her tires skid around the corner.

Andra didn’t know what she was doing, or what she would exactly say to him, but she needed to know what was going through his head.

Andra parked behind his truck and turned the key out of the ignition. She paused for a few seconds to take a breath and gather at least the first sentence that would come out of her mouth.

Her phone vibrated.

I’m in the garage.

Of course Ghost knew Andra had arrived, another sign that she definitely needed to do the same thing to her property. Cameras and motion sensors.

She shut the door behind her as she made her way to the garage off to the right of his house. One of the metal double doors was left cracked open, and she could hear the metal clink of a tool being put down.

The garage was Ghost’s own personal auto shop, with an incomplete classic-looking car taking up majority of the left. The wall was lined with tool boxes, yard tools, and almost a pallet’s worth of army green ammo cans. To the right, a rudimentary gym setup took up another portion of space, with a bench press, a high pull-up bar, seemingly crafted and welded together amateurly, and a rack of assorting dumbbells and plates to complete it all.

Ghost was hunched over the open hood of the car, one hand on the lip of the hood as he kept his attention on whatever he had been working on before Andra’s unannounced arrival.

“Is this your way of letting me know that you’re pushing me away again?” Andra sharply said to the backside of Ghost.

Ghost tossed a tool onto the toolbox on his left side and retrieved a rag, wiping grease from his stained hands. His muscles tensed in his back as he turned to Andra’s direction. “Today has been a really tense day. I wanted to give you some space to come down from last night.”

Andra clenched her jaw. “I don’t need space, I need answers. I feel like I’ve been kept in the dark about something I have no control over.”

“That’s because you don’t.”

She could feel her blood simmering already. Not how she wanted this to go. “I don’t because you never gave me the choice to take control.” Andra couldn’t recognize the person she was talking to. His stare was cold and dark. If his goal was to anger her into cutting her losses with him, it wasn’t going to work. “You didn’t tell me anything because we lost touch the first time, fine, I get it. But you went ahead and told Johnny? That’s what I can’t get passed.”

Ghost trudged out of the garage with Andra following behind him. “He and I had an eye on things. We had it under our thumbs.”

Andra tossed her hands up. “Had what exactly?” Her voice echoed all around them. “What the hell is going on with you?”

He turned back to her, stopping her in her tracks before bumping right into him. Ghost peered down to her, his eyes burning the same heat. “What do you want from me? You want me to take back what I did?”

Her fists clenched hard enough for her nails to dig into her palm. “No, I just want you to stop being such a hard ass and talk to me.” Her carotid artery strained against the muscles in her neck. “Tell me what you think is going on and we’ll deal with it together.”

He flinched as if her hand flew across his face.

“You keep acting like you’re looking for an excuse to push me away, for an excuse to leave.” Andra’s chest rose and fell with a heavy rhythm. “You act as if one morning I’ll wake up and you won’t be here, and you’ll just be a memory for me.”

His eyes squeezed shut as his own breath left him.

“You’ve thought about it, haven’t you? Leaving without another word, taking your shadows with you.” There was a shiver in her voice.

“I have.” Ghost finally answered. “I could leave in a moment’s notice. I’ve done it before.”

Andra didn’t doubt him. She had done it herself, she knew how easy it was to pack a couple of bags and leave. “What’s stopping you this time?”

Ghost opened his eyes to meet hers.

She scoffed and turned away from his silent response. The wind picked up and wisps of her hair flew around her face. She had to squint her eyes at the unbearable overcast sunlight. “I was able to forgive you for cutting me off the first time. I shook it off because there was no expectation for you to keep in contact after fixing my truck. Then you came back, and I thought you wanted me in your life, and maybe we even had something. Cool. Great, even.

“But when you brought up the transpiring events, the person driving up our street and telling me there have been people on my property?” She shook her head. “You think you’re handling this on your own but you’re not. I won’t let you. Either you let me know what’s going on, or you’ve lost my trust.”

His eyes were unreadable when she saw him once more.

Andra reached into her pocket and flipped her keys into her palm, the key ring sitting on her index finger as she clenched them tight. “I’ll see you around, Ghost. If you figure out what you want to do, you know where to find me.”

The screen door smacked the side of the house harder than it should. Andra wasn’t paying attention. Her face still felt hot with anger. Sammy darted outside for her chance to do what she does, leaving her alone in the house.

The air felt thick, charged with energy that wasn’t there when she woke up the morning before. Or maybe it was her mind messing with her. Either way, her house felt compromised.

The tears collected in her eyes out of nowhere, and she quickly wiped them away. This is stupid. She felt ridiculous for letting it get to her. For letting a shattered window re-surface the fear that drove her away to another country.

This was all going to blow over. The tracks in the woods were a random coincidence, the car meant nothing. And the rock flying into her window was just a freakish feat of nature. She’s witnessed some heavy storms in the countryside in her years of living here. It wouldn’t be the first time something has sustained damage on her property, and it was bound to happen again.

“Be kind to yourself.” Andra whispered to herself as she kicked her shoes off, remembering what she was taught in therapy and from self-help reading. However, being kind to herself was proving difficult with the lingering anger from talking to Ghost.

The nerve of him.

But also, the nerve of her. She felt the weight of her corrosive past. An affliction, threatening to dismantle the life she had built. It had to be irrational, she was no one. She wasn’t worth being tracked down, right? That’s the rhetoric she kept force feeding herself. They had succeeded in getting rid of her, she made sure of it. At this point, if anyone wanted to pursue in finishing the job, she would end up burning a hole in their dirty wallets.

And if Ghost was going to play the need-to-know card, two can play that game.

She stopped in her tracks as she walked into the kitchen, catching a glimpse of the black trash bag covering her window. It crinkled and swayed inward and outward with the passing wind. The ever-growing chasm in her chest was making itself comfortable, and she couldn’t stand it.

-----

Ghost knew Johnny would stop calling after the second time he reached his voicemail. The third call in a row told him that he better answer the phone. His heavy hand reached out to the nightstand for his phone, swiped his thumb across the screen and pressed it against his ear, eyes closed. “Yes, sir.”

“You broken, Simon?”

Price’s gravelly voice came through the speaker on his phone, and it was like a splash of cold water on him. It was a question he was familiar with Price asking, except he’s no longer checking for missing limbs or hemorrhaging blood loss. Ghost sat up on the edge of his mattress and rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes. “M’solid.”

“When’s the last time you got a full eight hours of sleep?” Price asked.

Ghost took a quick glance at the time on his phone before returning the receiver to his ear. “I was getting’ rest before you woke me up.” He was only asleep for two hours, and his pounding head reminded him that it had been a restless 72 hours.

Price doesn’t reach out very often. The captain – along with the other lads – will dedicate an amount of time out of the year to catch up with the former task force in person. It was an annual event of spending the holidays doing anything but celebrating Christmas and New Years. When he hears from Price before November, it’s because he’s been tipped off on Ghost’s concerning behavior.

“Soap tells me you’re acting barmy, you think you’re being followed, son?”

There it was.

Ghost didn’t respond for a few beats, his feet felt like lead against the cold wooden floor. “A couple of events transpired, would put you on edge, too.”

He could hear a deep sigh come from the other end of the line, and it had Ghost clench his jaw. “Get yourself to an appointment or a meeting, or I’ll bring the meeting to you.”

Price’s demand sent a wave of guilt and shame through Ghost. The memories of being pulled up off the living room floor and thrown into his tub flashed behind his heavy eyelids. Price, Johnny and Gaz showed up. Ghost reeked of alcohol and piss. They had him hauling bags of sand back and forth from his backyard to the range on his property for several hours, making him sweat and puke the remains of alcohol in his system.

“I’m still sober.” Ghost gritted his teeth. He made Ghost sound like an addict.

Price clipped his words, “See your doctor, and get out of bed for a sweat.”

Ghost opened his eyes to the void of his darkened room and sighed. “I’ll set up an appointment today.”

“Good lad.” Beep-beep-beep went the line as Price disconnected the call.

Sleep had eluded Ghost once more. He sat there at the edge of his bed and rolled his neck, failing to relax the knotted muscles at the base of his neck. His eyes burned, and his headache pressed down on every surface of his skull. He felt an irritation for Price waking him up, but rationality told him it wasn’t his fault.

Since sleep was out of the question, Ghost stood up and peered out the bedroom window. The sun wasn’t due to come up for another couple of hours, but he insisted to listen to Price’s advice. Get a workout in, then when the office opened, call doc to get that appointment.

His feet were heavy as he shuffled to the bathroom. Ghost always looked down to the basin of the sink before turning on the lights, avoiding the reflection staring back at him. He watched as his hands gripped the edge of the counter. Scars littered his knuckles, the skin over bone splitting open too many times for him to count.

It was when he was sick of looking at the reminders of his violence when he slipped and the person he hated stared back with cold, dead eyes.

You’ve tried killing me so many times, but fail every single time. You need me. You need the mask. You need it to hide so there’s never a chance to hurt again. You don’t deserve her. You try and pretend to be someone worthy of a teaspoon of affection, but you’re not what she needs. You’re filthy. You’re-

The glass shattered against his fist as he struck as quick as an asp. He hissed between clenched teeth, cursing as the reached for a towel and covered his bleeding knuckles.

If one thing was for certain, his reflection was right.

He didn’t deserve her.

-----

Andra flipped closed the back end of the book and placed it on her blanket covered lap to rub her tired eyes. Every night she would read The Operators when it was evident she wouldn’t be getting peaceful rest, or when something had her jolting awake. She had no clue how many hours she had slept in the past couple of days; definitely not enough to keep her from loading up on caffeine and making her debate breaking her years of being nicotine-free.

She could hear the roosting of her birds out in the coop. Andra leaned her head back against the headboard and sighed. There wouldn’t be time to try and fall asleep. Her day had to start.

After the morning chores, Andra headed inside for another cup of coffee. She stared out of her newly replaced window, out into the distance. It was hard not to; it was as if something – or someone – was going to come storming out from the brush and trees. All remained quiescent in those groves, as logic would have it.

The rattling sound of her plastic phone case vibrating against the countertop broke her focus. She swiped her finger across the screen and pressed the speaker button. “What’s up, Johnny?”

“I need to ask a favor.”

His voice was hushed and the words were muddled like he had the phone pressed against his mouth, and she could hear the workings of the auto shop in the background.

“I need you to go check on Ghost for me, he called out of work this morning.”

Andra felt her chest and throat tighten all at the same time. Johnny wasn’t aware of the fallout between her and Ghost from the sound of it. Or if he did, he must be extremely concerned for Ghost’s silence. I figured he would be used to it by now… she thought bitterly. “You need me to go immediately?”

“Take yer time, a mate of ours reached him this mornin’. Just pop over there when you get a chance. Gotta go, text me.”

The line went dead before Andra could say bye. She released a heavy sigh after taking her first sip, her fingers tapped against the countertop as apprehension churned in her gut.

Maybe Ghost took their last conversation as motivation for him to actually leave.

Tears pricked in the corner of her eyes, and she rubbed them away with her thumb and index finger, pushing her fingers together to pinch the bridge of her nose. She didn’t want their relationship – friendship – whatever they had, to end on that note. Fuck, I messed up.

She took a deep breath to regain composure. You don’t know if he’s gone. Andra decided she would go by after her run to the post office to pick up her package. With a quick rinse of her empty coffee mug, she headed to the front door to collect her keys and purse.

The sound of gravel crunching and a vehicle engine made her pause in her tracks. Her heart raced, she could feel her adrenaline dump. Her shaky hand moved aside the curtain to look out the window beside the door, and the sight of Ghost’s truck had her releasing a heavy breath.

It took everything in her not to throw the door open and run to him. She took another grounding breath and unlocked the door, opening it to Ghost preparing to knock.

Andra swore her heart was going to burst. The look in his eyes mirrored the same surprise she displayed. The discernible presence of a bandage wrapped around Ghost’s hand caught her attention in the corner of her eye.

He noticed where her eyes fell to, and shoved it in the pocket of his jacket. “You got a minute to speak?”

His voice sounded like sandpaper. He looked just as sleep deprived as she felt. Andra couldn’t say anything, so she just nodded. She closed the door behind her and opted to sit on the wooden bench, leaving a space for Ghost to sit beside her. He never did, instead he decided to lean against the railing, his ankle crossed over the other.

Seconds passed before anything was said. “I’m not good with words, you’ll have to bear with me.”

Andra folded her legs beneath her and clasped her hands together. Her eyes remained on him as she waited to hear him out.

His head tilted down. “I gave a lot of thought to what you said, about losing your trust.” He rolled his neck, rolling the nerves and giving him a chance to think. “And I realized, taking a bullet is far less painful than that.”

Andra could see his adam’s apple bob in his throat underneath the fabric of his mask as he tilted his head back with closed eyes. She felt her throat tightening, and had to swallow to relieve the ache.

“So, I’ve come to terms with if I want to mend what I had with you, I’m going to have to find a way to tell you what you need to know.” Ghost’s eyes found hers, searching for a response.

She gave him a subtle nod, letting the words sink in. “How are you going to do that?”

Ghost uncrossed his ankles and took the two steps to sit beside her. It was a struggling few seconds for him to begin speaking. “Did you ever pick that book back up?”

Andra was confused by the approach he was taking, but went with it. “Yeah, I finished it actually.”

"Did the author talk about some of his assignments?" Ghost asked patiently.

She recalled what the author was able to talk about and reveal. "Not specifics, but he went in detail with Selection, and then the training thereafter and some events that happened in the 80s in Northern Ireland."

He nodded as he listened. "What did the training entail?"

"Physical training, a lot of sleep deprivation, weapons and vehicle tactics, photography, interrogation..." Andra's words drifted as she continued her recollection. She wouldn't say this out loud, but it was a dry read.

Ghost cut in at the mention of the last topic. "Interrogation, okay." His shoulders rose and fell as he let out a deep breath, and his hands flexed over and over. "I've been on both ends of being interrogated. Not just in training, but out on the field." His red-rimmed eyes aged several decades, and her chest grew heavy. "And there were times the bars and stars – officers that outranked me and my team – had ordered us to let go of the person we had just roughed up.

"They were dangerous people, Andra, do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Andra was piecing together why Ghost had given her that book to read. It was more than just what was on the surface. The selection process, the training, the assignments, the images in the book illustrating the teams with black lines redacting their eyes. It occurred to her then when she was reading it all, Ghost was another one of the SAS operatives that had an alias, he had paperwork with his name on it that contained redacted information on what he and his team had accomplished, but now discussing it all solidified it for her.

Not only him, but Johnny as well, and Johnny had brought up a few other names. People that were also special forces.

It was sobering. She never took the time to sit with all of this information and come to terms that these men had enemies that went deeper than just being from differing nations. Enemies that may or may not still be alive out there, preying on the downfall of the men she had come to know.

“Has anyone ever found you or Johnny?” Andra asked with a tremble in her throat.

“No.” He answered definitively. “And I would like to keep it that way.”

Andra nodded, as she fully agreed with him.

Ghost leaned back against the bench. “I truly never intended to alarm you and bring you to endless conclusions. I wish I could take it back, my foolishness, everything.”

“You can’t help that, though.” Andra defended. “It was a really messed up chain of events.”

There was a pregnant pause. “I have moments like these when there are too many coincidences happening at once. I’ve been working on how I handle it.”

Andra turned to him. “Do you… talk to someone about it?” She felt hesitant to ask.

Ghost’s eyes slid back to her. “Does that bother you?”

She shook her head swiftly. “No, oh Gods, no I didn’t mean it that way.” Her hands covered her face for a moment. “That was wrong of me to ask.”

Ghost reached for one of her hands. “You have every right to know, doll.” The calloused pad of his thumb brushed the top of her hand. She could feel a tremor in his touch.

It would have warmed her heart had it not been for the churning contrite souring her stomach. He had every right to know, too, but how would she even begin to tell him?

His injured hand was holding hers. She took this opportunity to distract herself from the guilt eating at her. “What happened to your hand?”

“Ridiculous accident with some glass.” He answered too quickly. Andra could feel him wanting to recoil, but he continued to let her hold his hand. Her peripheral vision gave her a peak of Ghost studying her face. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look exhausted.”

Andra let go of his hand and rubbed her eyes. “I really haven’t been sleeping. Every little noise wakes me up, and I lay there for hours.”

Ghost’s eyes turned serious. “What can I do to remedy that?” Andra started to shake her head. “No, I’m responsible for this. Name it, I’ll do what I can.”

“I was actually on my way to go pick up a security system I ordered from the post office.” Andra raised her hand with her set of keys jingling.

Ghost stood from the bench, Andra followed in suit. “That I can do.”

Her smile returned. If it was one thing Andra was certain about Ghost, acts of service was how he communicated his apologies. It was easier to demonstrate with his hands than words.

After picking up the hefty box of camera and motion sensor equipment, Andra worked around the farm after her and Ghost discussed where the best places to set up the cameras would be. He got it done in less than a few hours, giving them time to pick up food together.

As they traveled, she remembered Johnny was waiting for an update from her.

Ghost is fine, we’re picking up food.

“So, you read the book in the past three days?” Ghost asked to start up chatter. Look who’s talking more now.

She hummed. “I read when I can’t sleep, and found it sitting there on the table before I locked up for bed.” Andra glanced at him. “What do you do when you can’t sleep?” Her phone vibrated with a response.

Thank you.

Ghost shrugged. “I lay there hoping I fall asleep.”

“I would get so bored.” Andra confessed, tapping her hands on her thighs. “You don’t even scroll through Netflix or something to try and turn your brain off?”

“I don’t have Netflix.” He responded.

Andra shook her head and blinked. “Remind me to give you my login.”

“I don’t watch TV or movies.”

Now she was looking at him like he was crazy. “You’re lying. You’re a liar.”

He rolled his eyes. “I do watch movies, but they’re all old war movies or westerns on DVD.”

Andra narrowed her eyes. “What are you, fifty?”

Ghost chortled. “I have a while before I hit fifty, thank you for that.”

“How long is a while?” Andra smirked. “Five years or six months?” His mouth opened, but she kept going. “Wait, I bet you have M.A.S.H. all on DVD, don’t you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with M.A.S.H.” Ghost defended.

“Yeah, when you’re as old as my dad and watching it on your days off as you doze on the living room couch at eleven in the morning.”

“You’re pushing your luck, doll.” Ghost warned with a grin in his voice. “Let me put it this way, I joined the Royal Air Force after the events of 9/11.”

Andra’s face went slack and her eyes were as wide as saucers. She turned to the passenger window with a hand pretending to scratch the side of her head and wondered if he would be weirded out if she told him she was in grade school during 9/11.

Her silence was loud in the cabin. “We’re not that far apart in age if you know M.A.S.H.” Ghost resumed.

Andra raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you saying I look old?”

“No.” His accent thickened as his voice dropped. “I didn’t say that.”

She was having too much fun busting his chops. “We have a tad bit of an age gap,” she demonstrated with her thumb and index finger with a small gap, “I’m a ninety’s baby.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Three years is a tad of an age gap, not a whole decade.”

Andra rolled her eyes. “Is this what I have to look forward to in my thirties?” She laughed at the flash of astonishment as he panned a look at her. “I’m kidding! Well, kind of, but I’ll be thirty next summer.”

Ghost smoothed his hand over his covered mouth. “You’re killing me, woman.”

“Best stay on top of those heart meds then – ooh!” Andra shot forward and was caught by her seatbelt from Ghost slamming the breaks harder than normal. “You’re gonna cause an accident, sir.”

After a few beats of silence, Ghost changed the subject. “I hope the camera system will give you some peace of mind.”

“I’m sure it will.” She nodded with a hopeful smile.

Ghost ran inside the chip shop they ordered from while Andra sat in the truck to keep it running. Her head tilted back onto the head rest as she stared up at the roof of the truck. The lack of sleep was catching up to her, and now that there was less of a problem with surveillance around the farm, she felt the muscles in her shoulders relaxing.

The sudden sound of the driver door opening had her jerking back awake. She attempted to cover up the fact that she had dozed off in his truck with a little stretch of her legs.

Ghost handed her the bag of food without noticing her brief second of sleep and drove back to her house.

-----

“I get why you go to this place.” Andra spoke in between eating in the living room with him. “It’s not bad.”

“It’s also because Johnny has been getting us discounts from his little girlfriend.” Ghost wiped his mouth with a crumpled napkin.

Andra looked over the app on her phone that connected her to all of the cameras on her property. The feed looked really good, giving her confidence that she could point out important details if she ever had to. She switched to the camera that aimed at the dirt driveway with both trucks sitting outside. Her thumb and index finger spread across the screen to utilize the zoom feature; she was able to read off the license plate numbers from each truck.

“Thank you again for setting up the cameras.” Andra locked her phone and placed it down on the coffee table.

Ghost covered the lower half of his face back up with the balaclava as he finished his own meal. “Thank you for letting me.”

Her heart fluttered at the sudden drop in his voice. His eyes were set on her when she turned to look at him. Despite not being able to see his expression, she could feel a softness in his brown eyes.

“Let me get these out of the way.” Ghost insisted as he began to collect the takeout containers. Andra sucked down the last of her drink in her Styrofoam cup and tossed it into the bag Ghost was using.

Andra slipped a hand in the back pocket of her jeans. “You staying for a little while?”

“I can.”

She felt some relief for having to spend less time by herself for the evening.

While Ghost did his thing, Andra browsed her bookshelf in search of a new read.

“Anything interesting?” Ghost asked as he returned.

Andra chose Dune from the shelf. “Maybe.” She returned to her designated reading lounge chair and curled her legs up. “How far did you get with The Outsiders?”

Ghost scratched the back of his head. “Maybe the first fifty pages.” Then, he tilted his head. “How did you know I had it?”

Andra smirked. “It was gone the following morning after you left.”

Did she have him flustered? The indecisive glance to the couch and back to the front door then back to the kitchen was amusing enough to have her grinning.

“I have it in the truck, actually. Be right back.” Ghost made his way outside, letting in a kissing, chilly breeze.

It must have been the book she chose, or the way she receded back into the cushions, but she felt the wave of sleepiness return back. Or maybe it was Ghost’s presence, knowing he was only a few feet away on the couch with Sammy next to him. He emitted an aura that Andra could only classify as comfort. Safety.

She knew he was safe to fall asleep around, she knew he would keep her safe.

Andra flinched out of the sleep she was slipping into and let out a disappointed sigh. Her book was still in her hand, but the pages were damp from the warmth of her fingers holding them in place. She closed the book, not worried about where she left off because she wasn’t paying attention anyway and softened her movements as she looked to her right.

Ghost’s head lulled to one side from the upright position he fell asleep in, his arms crossed over his chest and his own book sitting on the table with Sammy resting in her own bed by the window. The heavy breath he suck in and released told her he was deeper in that sleep than she was.

How is he sleeping with the mask on? Andra wondered.

With light movement, Andra rose from her chair and padded quietly to the hallway closet to retrieve a blanket. He looked as tired as she felt halfway through the day, and she wasn’t about to wake him up and send him home. She unraveled the blanket and moved to lay it over Ghost just above his arms and below his collarbone.

But his awareness was more keen than Andra had anticipated. Ghost reached out, throwing the blanket off and swiped her wrists single-handed. The room went spinning, and she let out a small yelp as her back met the bottom cushions of the couch, his grasp securing her wrists above her head.

Ghost’s eyes were wild with alert, then widened as he realized who he just wrestled down. It startled her at first, but out of nervousness a chortle escaped. Then a chuckle, and confusion wrinkled Ghost’s eyebrows.

She probably looked insane to him. She was supposed to be frightened, but all she was was dizzy. And too aware of how his body hovered over her. The grip on her wrists eased up but remained there. Her giggles dissipated, along with whatever she was about to say. She was too absorbed by Ghost’s eyes darting all over her face, and she wasn’t too sure, but she was almost certain he kept looking to her mouth.

Before Andra could register what she was doing, she pressed her lips against the teeth of the skull pattern on his mask, hitting her mark as she felt his lips beneath. Ghost pulled away like she had put his hand in an open flame, his eyes widened. Oh shit, what have I done –

His empty hand shoved up the fabric of his balaclava and he smashed his mouth against hers. Heat blazed through her face, molten liquid flooding her core as she took in every sensation overwhelming her. The fierce hunger of his kiss. The friction of their bodies pressed against each other. The solid grip Ghost had on her wrists.

She couldn’t get close enough to him. Her leg attempted to hook around his waist, but only succeeded in wrapping around a thigh that nestled its way between her legs.

He couldn’t pull himself away, and instead fed the part telling him to nudge his knee where she wanted it. Ghost freed her hands to grip the thigh pulling him in, giving her free reign to cradle his stubbled jaw. His fingertips worked divots into the fabric of her jeans, earning a small sound from her tightening throat.

Andra hoped there would be marks later left where he was squeezing.

Her tongue slipped out between her lips and playfully swiped across his mouth. Oh fuck, the sound that just came from him… Andra had never heard arousal so delicious before.

All of Ghost was crashing through her like a freight train. His taste, his heat, his sounds. Her head felt like it’s been shoved underwater, and she has no intentions surfacing for air. Not when drowning in all of him felt this good.

Ghost reciprocated her invitation and found his tongue pushing through the slit of her lips. She felt her own arousal winding tightly in her warmth. Anything more was likely going to set her off. There’s no way I’m coming just from this, she cursed herself.

Ghost pulled away, hit hot breath fanning over her face. He moved his free hand to his mask, but it remained there. One second, two seconds. His mouth slackened into a frown, lips parted with labored breathing. The trance had been broken between the two. He retreated from where he had Andra pressed into the couch, his hands ran down his face and stayed there as he battled with himself.

Andra adjusted her shirt as she sat up and gave him a nudge of space. “Hey,” she softly said as she brought his hands down, cradling them in her own. “You don’t need to.”

“I want to.” He rasped, breathless from their kiss. “I don’t know why, but I can’t.”

“It’s okay.” She took his hand away from his face and stroked his knuckles with her thumb.

Ghost blinked a few times like he was waking up from a dream. “I shoved my tongue in your mouth.” He stated, a little too forward. His words had heat rushing to her face. “The least I can do I show you who is beneath this.” He gestured to the mask covering half of his face, a bitterness in his words directed to his disguise.

Andra slowly raised her hands to the bottom half of his revealed face. He flinched away from the contact, but settled as she let her thumbs brush against the stubble on his jaw. She made no subtle movements; just exploring the craters and slits across his skin.

Ghost watched her silently, attentively, his eyes flickering back and forth. She can feel the intensity, a man questioning the intentions of the woman touching him, holding the privacy and secrecy he clings to. He sucked in a breath as she took hold of the balaclava and didn’t exhale until Andra had pulled it back down over his face.

“If you’re not ready, then you’re not ready.” She affirmed.

His bandaged hand brushed Andra’s disheveled hair behind her ear. Ghost leaned in and pressed his covered mouth against her forehead. Andra gave him a meek grin as he pulled away.

Andra felt this moment building up to a goodbye, but she took his hand again. “You can stay here for the night. I don’t want you driving back even if it’s just down the street.”

He reached down on the floor and picked up the blanket. “If that’s alright with you, I’ll take up the couch-”

“Sleep on a bed, for gods’ sake.” Andra nodded her head to the stairs. “I have an extra room upstairs.”

Thankfully, Ghost didn’t argue. Heavy feet dragged themselves up the stairs, Sammy following them both. They took pause as both turned to each other from across the hall. There was so much she wanted to say, but the brief, drowsy goodnight that was exchanged had them retreating into their respective rooms. Andra leaned against the closed door, clouds in her head and lips swollen with the phantom sensation of their catalyst.

I've started up a taglist! comment if you want to get tagged for this story 🖤 likes & reblogs are wholeheartedly appreciated, your engagement helps new readers find me ✨

36 notes · View notes

thezombieprostitute · 1 year ago

Text

Sparks fly - Part 2

Summary: After working as an engineer for Wilford & Gilliam Trust for several years you find evidence of seedy dealings and burned books. After turning in the evidence you find yourself in danger and seek help. You're taken into the protection of a mob family where you run into your high school best friend, Mace.

Word Count: ~1200

Warnings: Implied violence and attempted murder. Please let me know if I missed any.

Part 1 -- Part 3

Series Masterlist

After Huffman left you hugged Mace again, much tighter this time. You'd been hiding how scared and angry you were from Huffman but Mace was a familiar, trustworthy face. He hugged you back and you cried out your frustrations from the past week. Mace didn't say anything the entire time and you appreciated that.

When you felt a little better you gently pull yourself away and ask, "so how is this place different from the last three? Other than a familiar face. Why is this place deemed safer?"

"Because it's not an on-the-books safehouse," he starts. "That means any moles on the force won't know about it. And, because we know who to talk to and whose palms to grease, we can install security measures way more potent than the legitimate safehouses get away with."

"This... This isn't legal?" Your eyes widen as your voice lowers to a whisper, "Mace, what kind of people are you involved with?"

“Good people,” he assures. “People who look out for their communities first and foremost. People who take protection seriously.”

“Okay,” you nod. “I know it’s been a while, but I’ll trust you about the people.” You hesitate before asking, “can I see some of the security measures? For my own peace of mind?”

“Of course,” he confirmed. “Let’s start with the basics.” He takes you on a tour of the apartment, detailing all of the security measures. Bulletproof windows, motion sensors that turn on the lights when the front door is opened, even a solid steel headboard on the bed to protect from possible shots through the walls. It definitely felt safer than the last few places you were in.

Mace was talking you through the setup when your stomach made an audible growl. Heat rushed to your face in mortification but Mace definitely heard it and asked when you had last eaten.

“I…I think it was this morning? Maybe a granola bar?”

“Well that won’t do,” he says as he heads into the kitchen. “I wasn’t able to fully stock the place given the time, but I definitely got enough to cook us up some dinner.”

“Since when can you cook,” you giggle. “Last time I saw you in a kitchen you were burning the instant ramen in the microwave!”

“I’ve changed a lot since high school,” he bantered. “I’ve picked up lots of skills since you last saw me.”

“Also a sense of style,” you tease. “I forgot to mention that I like the haircut. Buzzcut definitely suits you better than that mop you had back then.”

He laughs at that as he starts cooking. You’re so glad he agreed to stay. You haven’t felt this calm in days. Well, you haven’t felt this safe in days; you haven’t felt this relaxed in years. The two of you chat as he cooks up some grilled cheeses, making sure to cut yours diagonally.

“You remembered,” you exclaim.

“Kinda hard to forget your comfort foods when they’re also my comfort foods.”

“Yeah, but you don’t like yours cut diagonally, heathen.”

He smiles, “it’s because you always made such a big deal about me not cutting my sandwiches that I remember.”

You eat the grilled cheese faster than you intend, finally realizing how hungry you are. You want to ask for another but he still hasn’t finished his so you wait. He sees you eyeing his sandwich, smiles, and heads back into the kitchen, cooking up another for you while eating his own. “Thanks AC,” you whisper.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed about being hungry, DC,” he gently chides.

“I know,” you concede. “I’ve gotten better about putting my needs first but…”

“It’s easy to fall back on old habits? Especially when you’ve been put through the wringer in terms of stress? Especially when you’ve been in survival mode for at least a week?”

You smile, “thank you for understanding.” He smiles as nods as he monitors his cooking. “Some days I really do miss having you to help me against bullies. Or other people who wanted me to do their homework for them. Having you around probably would’ve kept me from getting involved in all of this.”

“How so?”

“Helping everyone with their work let me see connections they couldn’t. I was able to pick up on a bunch of irregularities because I was doing second checking for other departments. Daryl from Chemical Engineering R&D needed me to take on some of his work so he could flirt with Jo from Accounting. Elaine from Bio-engineering asked me to help her with some equations so she could leave work early. Just, all these people from all of these different branches and that’s how I noticed things I probably shouldn’t have.”

“All because you wanted to be helpful, because you’re a good, nice person,” Mace comments as he hands you another sandwich, sliced diagonally. You nod your head as you start eating. “Might sound strange, but I’m glad.” You tilt your head in confusion. “I’m glad you’re still a good person. That you still want to be a good person. It can be incredibly tough to do.”

The moment is interrupted by Mace’s phone buzzing. He reads the text message and you can’t read the expression on his face.

“Backup has been found,” he tells you. “The guy’s methods are…a little off but he’s one of the best.”

“Will I be meeting him?”

“No, thankfully. GBH likes to keep as low a profile as he can while he’s working.”

“GBH?”

Mace sighs, “he…he calls himself God the Bounty Hunter.” Your eyes widen with shock. “I know, I know. Like I said, he’s weird but dammit if he isn’t great at protection. If they got someone that I didn’t think could keep you safe I’d argue for someone else.” His blue green eyes look deep into yours, “please trust me, DC?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you. Now, we should probably get you some sleep. The bed is yours. Feel free to keep on whatever lights you want or need to help you sleep. If you need a fan or a white noise machine, I can get that set up for you.”

“Where are you sleeping?”

“I’ll be pushing that living room chair in front of the door. Make sure no one can open it and no one can try to open it without alerting me.”

“Mace! There’s no way you’re sleeping like that!”

“I’ve slept in worse scenarios, DC. Besides, I personally test all the chairs and couches in the safehouses so I know damn well how comfortable it is.”

“But…”

“No arguments. You’re tired. You’ve had a very long and very dangerous week. We’ve got backup watching over this apartment and I know I’ll sleep easier knowing I’m between you and the door.” He gently pushes you towards the bedroom, “so please let yourself get some sleep. If you need me, I’ll be right here. Don’t be afraid to wake me up for anything, okay?”

“Thank you,” you hummed. “Thanks for always looking out for me.”

Part 1 -- Part 3

Series Masterlist

Tagging:

@rebekahdawkins

Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

#mafia!james mace #mob!james mace #james mace x reader #mace x reader #mafia au #mafia!mace #mob!mace

41 notes · View notes