#my entire body kept shaking as I was talking about the scene and what happens

[lokislittlesigyn]

// personal, therapy mention, positive !!!!

good thing:

i am exhausted and queasy after therapy but i watched a clip from iw and that feels like a win.

[kimi240302]

Craving

A/N: Before you read this story, be aware I am from Germany and can't write a bit of English. That's why I'm sending this through an app that translates it for me.

A/N2.0: In this story, the characters are all a little older.

Summary: Y/N Swan tries everything to keep her promise to stay away from Demetri Volturi. But can you stay away from the man fate bound you to?

Demetri Volturi x Female!Swan!reader

Words: 3,4k

Main Post / Twilight Masterlist / Request list / Playlist 

Part 2 of Daylight Masterlist 

18+ I am new to the whole smut writing so please be nice  

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

Tellin' myself it's the last time Can you spare any mercy that you might find If I'm down on my knees again? Deep down, way down, Lord, I try Try to follow your light, but it's night time Please, don't leave me in the end

- David Kushner 

"Y/N?!”

Startled, the young girl flinched. Her gaze, which she had directed outside the entire time, turned to the whiteboard, and therefore to her scowling teacher. When Y/N noticed that the whole classroom was looking at her in a wait-and-see manner, her cheeks turned red as she shrank slightly into herself.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Porter, I wasn't listening." Shaking her head, the teacher sighed. "That's been happening to you quite a bit lately Miss Swan!" Embarrassed, since all the attention was still on her, Y/N just shook her head apologetically. "Just pay attention from now on. The things we discuss today will come up in next week's exam."  Y/N sat up a little straighter, took out her pen from her bag, and pulled her notebook towards her, which made the teacher smile contentedly and continue with the lesson.

For fifteen minutes, Y/N was able to focus on what was going on in front of her, until her gaze turned back outside and her thoughts drifted back to Demetri. As she did so, her hand settled, as if by itself, on the spot where Demetri's lips had touched her skin. Her eyes closed and the memories came back. It almost seemed to her as if Demetri was here in the same room with her, very close again.

Annoyed, Y/N exhaled, opened her eyes and dropped her hand. Three weeks had passed since the meeting with Demetri in the library. Three weeks of pure torture, as Y/N no longer knew exactly where she stood, what she felt, or what exactly she wanted.

Then to top it all off, the young girl felt guilty towards her sister for indirectly breaking her promise. While it had been Demetri who had sought her out, Y/N hadn't really done anything about his closeness either, or really found it disturbing. Y/N therefore kept inventing excuses not to talk to Bella for more than half an hour to an hour, even skipping a phone call here and there. Bella, surprisingly, ignored this. She probably thought Y/N had a lot to do with school, which was true somewhere.

On the other hand, Y/N was overwhelmed with what she was feeling. She missed the feel of Demetri's body against hers. She missed his hands holding her, his lips on her skin, and his presence. Y/N even had to admit that she searched for him whenever she was out.

Yet it was almost as if Demetri Volturi no longer existed. As if he had disappeared from the scene and the only thing he had left behind was desire and words that Y/N did not understand, or rather did not want to understand.

"How long can you hide your sins from the light of day?"

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

"You should come out to party with us." Mara, a friend of Y/N, looked at her piercingly. "You've been going out for two weeks only to go to school, and even there you're absent the entire time and hardly talk."

Annoyed, Y/N released air from her lungs as she flopped down on her bed. "I just don't feel like doing anything else. Everyone has that once, it'll pass."

Mara jumped up from the chair she had been sitting on for the past hour and tried to coax Y/N into doing something other than just lying around in her room. Her fingers encircled Y/N's ankles. With a strong tug, Mara pulled Y/N off her bed.

Startled, she let out a scream as she plopped to the floor. Silence reigned for a moment until the two friends looked at each other and burst out laughing. Mara lay down on the floor next to the laughing Y/N, as she couldn't stop laughing either.

Both friends looked at the ceiling, trying to get their breathing under control as they slowly calmed down.

"What's it like?" Confused, Y/N turned her head in Mara's direction. "What exactly?" Her friend looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "I have a big sister Y/N, I know what heartbreak looks like. I'm just wondering what it feels like. I've never been in love, so I can't understand someone wanting to pull away from everything and everyone because of it."  Y/N turned her gaze back to the ceiling. Clearing her throat briefly, she tried to collect herself. "It's more complicated than heartbreak." The young girl took one deep breath. "You have to imagine that I never really knew who I was at home. I felt lost, which I still do from time to time." Y/N fell silent. Saddened and depressed by her own words, even if they spoke the truth.

"Why?" "Bella always cast a shadow over me. She was all my parents saw. I tried to step out of it, but every time I did, I stood in it again. So I gave it up and just lived in it. When I met Demetri, that's his name, I had the feeling of being seen for the first time. Really seen. I wasn't Bella's little sister anymore, I was just Y/N." Smiling, she closed her eyes and remembered back to the day she had first seen the vampire.

A cold hand placed itself under Y/N's chin and lifted it. This forced the young girl to look up. Her fingers tightened in the fabric of her bag as she looked into a pair of red eyes. "What's your name Chéri?" At the blond-haired man's voice, a shiver ran down her spine. "Y/N...." Her voice was soft.

With a soft smile, Demetri released her chin and brushed a tangled strand of hair behind her ear. "You're even more beautiful than I imagined."

"What's it like to be around him?" "It feels like coming home. When he's around me, it's like I can finally take a breath." Y/N gave a soft laugh. Confused, Mara looked at her, "What is it?" "At the risk of sounding ridiculous, when Demetri touches me it's like he reminds me that I'm alive and not just existing. His touches almost burn, and they continue to do so long after he's gone."

Mara was silent again for a moment. "That doesn't sound ridiculous. On the contrary it sounds beautiful, like a connection anyone would want to have. But then why are you sad?" "My family is against it." Mara exhaled in annoyance. "You mean your sister is against it."  "And a few other people I care about, or at least used to." Y/N's expression changed to a sad one. "So what's the plan? To forget him." The young girl just nods.

Mara, sighing, nudged her friend in the ribs with her elbow, making Y/N wince.

"Now let's be honest, let's go to the club today. The others are coming too. The first step towards oblivion." Y/N rubbed the spot where Mara's elbow had hit her.  "If I come with you, will you promise not to be violent towards me anymore?"

Playfully thoughtful, Mara put a hand to her chin and considered for a few seconds.

"If I have to..." Dramatically, the hand moved from her chin to her chest. "I promise to behave towards you!"

Rolling her eyes, Y/N grabbed the pillow, which had fallen on the floor with her earlier, and threw it in Mara's face.

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

"Look who decided to join us for the night!" Mara spread her arms and showed her group of friends Y/N, immediately they all started cheering. "The lost child has returned!" Y/N rolled her eyes and plopped down next to Mick on the bench in the club. "I only skipped one club visit!" She had to raise her voice to fight the music. "One too many!" called Mick back, pressing his fresh beer into her hand. He put his arm on her shoulders and lifted the other beer to toast with the others.

As the evening went on, more and more alcohol flowed. Which helped Y/N lose any thought of Demetri and her confusing feelings for him.

With her eyes closed, Y/N moved to the tune of the music. The darkness that surrounded her, broken only by green and red lights every few seconds, made her feel safe and out of reach. Y/N felt free for the first time. No vampire drama could find her here. It was just her and her friends here.

The bodies around her, the young girl was already not even aware of, as well as the smell of sweat and alcohol. Smiling, she raised her arms in the air. 

Y/N's peace was quickly shattered. Startled, she flinched when two hands came to her hips. Her arms dropped down so she could put her hands over the stranger's and push them away. But as her skin touched the stranger's and she felt the familiar cold, the young girl literally sank into the body behind her. An unfamiliar feeling of relief spread through her.

"Demetri..."

His name was no more than a whisper, but Y/N knew he had heard her. After all, he was a vampire. The grip on her hips strengthened as if to assure her that it was really him, that he was really behind her and was not just an illusion.

"What do you think you're doing here Trésor?" Goosebumps formed on Y/N's skin. Tightening her grip on his hands, she sought the hold to steady herself. "Trying to forget." She murmured, not stopping to move, forcing Demetri to follow her lead.

The vampire snorted in amusement. His left hand settled on Y/N's stomach, where he applied enough pressure to keep Y/N's back against his chest. Demetri also released his right hand from her hip and let his fingertips travel upward just a few millimeters over the filmy fabric of Y/N's black blouse. When his fingers stopped at the exposed cleavage that started just below her breasts, Y/N had to gasp. Demetri's lips hovered just inches from her ear. "What are you trying to forget?"

Carefully almost, as if the vampire was afraid his mate would shatter like glass, he touched the exposed skin, between her breasts. Slowly his fingers slid up. Y/N bit her lip gently. She didn't want Demetri to know how much influence he had on her. However, the young girl quickly lost her focus as Demetri's fingers slid over her collarbone. Out of instinct, she grabbed Demetri's right arm, causing him to pause in his movement.

"I wanted to forget you." Her words sounded breathless and desperate. Demetri laughed, "And you really thought for a second that I would let this happen?" The vampire lowered his head. As he did so, he let his lips run over Y/N's cheek and chin. Arriving at her neck, he lowered his lips to her pulse point without further thought. Without hurting her he sucked his mouth there to make a mark on her. The young girl's eyes widened before she closed them. Her body automatically pressed even closer to his as Y/N's grip tightened on Demetri's arm.

"Good luck forgetting now." Demetri had moved away from her neck and taken his arms from her. Confused and slightly backward staggering, Y/N opened her eyes and at the lack of presence behind her, turned around. Only to find that Demetri had disappeared and left her behind  once again.

"He can't be serious now!"

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

The young Swan girl felt as if a bucket of water had been poured over her head. Any signs of being drunk had disappeared and been replaced by a feeling of emptiness.

Slamming her apartment door behind her, Y/N shook her shoes off her feet. She had told her friends a half-hearted excuse, gotten out of the club into the next best cab, and headed home.

Tired, Y/N leaned against her front door. Her gaze slid around her dark apartment. Sighing, her head lightly banged on the door behind her. Tears came to her eyes as she realized how lonely she actually felt. Y/N didn't miss Forks, her sister, her father, or her friends, though. She was missing Demetri. Which made no sense from her point of view, since they were both never in the same place for more than half an hour.

Shaking her head, Y/N pushed herself away from her door, banished her way through the still dark apartment to the bathroom, and slowly began to undress in the process. She wanted nothing more than to wash the evening off her skin. The alcohol, her sweat, and the feeling of what Demetri had left on her skin. As she walked past her bedroom window, Y/N opened it to let the evening air in and since she lived on the fifth floor she didn't worry about anyone getting into her apartment.

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

With a towel tied around her body, Y/N stood stunned in front of her bathroom mirror.

""This bloody..."" Twisting her neck a bit to the side, she looked at the red mark on her neck. Gasping, she propped her hands on the sink. "A hickey? Seriously!"

Shaking her head in front of her, she tugged on her towel again and left the bathroom to get dressed in her bedroom. Just as she was about to open her closet door to look for her sleeping clothes, a voice familiar to her was heard.

"Mon amour you should not leave your window open like that. Someone might come in here unannounced."

With a cry, the young girl turned to her bed. Stunned, Y/N looked at the vampire. Demetri had made himself comfortable on her bed. His hands were clasped behind the back of his head as he watched her with a satisfied grin.

"I live on the fifth floor! No one can get in there just like that. Except crazy vampires who don't know what privacy is!"

Angrily, she braced her hands on her hips. Demetri raised an eyebrow. "I thought the window was an invitation for me. After all, we both know that the height of your apartment is nothing that can stop me."  Several times Y/N blinked as she processed Demetri's words.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Y/N, enraged, grabbed the nearest object that fell into her fingers and threw it at Demetri. The latter jumped up from the bed to avoid the book Y/N threw at him.

"Mon amour you know that can't hurt me, right?" With an annoyed snort, Y/N grabbed her other textbook and aimed it at Demetri again. "I don't care!" Demetri ducked his head, repositioned himself properly, and looked after the book that had knocked a vase onto the floor.

"Think about your decor Y/N." Demetri's grin seemed to make the young girl even angrier. By the third time she turned to grab something and throw it at the vampire, Demetri had had enough. He closed the distance between them and stood directly in front of her.

Y/N, who was just turning back to face him, startled, dropped the book from her hand, and took an avoiding step backward. The skin on her back touched the cold wood, of her closet. This reminded her that she was still standing in front of Demetri in only a towel. Y/N's hands grasped the top hem of the towel and pulled it closer to her skin.

"Why are you here Demetri?" Y/N uttered her words only softly, with an uncertain tone. Demetri could even hear an anxious undertone. He stepped over the inches of distance that still existed between the two. The vampire raised his hand to Y/N's cheek, which made her close her eyes. The trembling of her body became more obvious and Demetri had to admit to himself that this reaction of his mate hurt him.

"Open your eyes Y/N." Demetri rested his forehead against Y/N's as he whispered his next words. "I beg you, don't be afraid of me." The young girl's eyes flew open. She had to swallow because of the closeness of their faces and the intensity of Demetri's gaze.

"Then give me a reason not to be afraid."

Demetri's free hand rested against Y/N's other cheek as he released his forehead from hers. Without hesitating any further, he lowered his lips to those of his mate. Instantly Y/N tensed and Demetri feared that he had gone too far. But Y/N leaned more toward him. Her chest pressed against his to keep her towel where it was as she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss as passionately as Demetri had.

The vampire's hands dropped down to Y/N's hips.

When they both broke away from each other, Demetri stopped with his lips just inches from hers. Y/N opened her eyes, letting her right arm slide down Demetri's chest. The vampire inhaled, even though he didn't have to, not breaking eye contact with Y/N for a second. "I would never hurt you Y/N. I'm not the monster the Cullens want me to be."

Y/N placed her right hand on Demetri's cheek. Her fingertips gently ran over his skin. With a smile, Y/N watched as Demetri's eyes closed as he leaned into her touch. She realized that he felt the same in her presence as she did in his, comfort.

Y/N leaned closer to Demetri with her face getting closer and closer to him. Just as the young girl was about to close her eyes, a ringing interrupted her. Startled, Y/N flinched and separated herself from Demetri. The latter opened his eyes annoyed when Y/N took her hands from him, put them back to the towel and detached herself from his body. Demetri let go of her, watching as Y/N went to her cell phone, picked it up and read the name. "Bella..."

Shaking his head, he walked back toward her. "Don't answer it." Uncertain, his mate looked at him as her fingers tightened around her phone. Demetri had enough of Bella, enough of the promise of what she had taken from his mate, and enough of waiting. He grabbed Y/N`s face between his hands again, pulling her body towards him and letting his lips meet hers. Startled by her mate's rudeness, she dropped the phone on the floor between them. Her fingers buried themselves in the thick material of Demetri's top, at his waist.

"Tonight you're all mine, tonight it's just the two of us!"

Demetri bent Y/N's head slightly to the side with his right hand. Immediately he lowered his lips to the skin on her neck, causing his mate to groan. Meanwhile, his hands wandered over her shoulders to the top saun of the towel, where he untied the knot Y/N had made in it to make sure the fabric stayed where it was.

Y/N shuddered as she felt the fabric of the towel loosen around her body. With trembling fingers she pushed herself away from Demetri. Confused, he looked at her and wanted to protest, but fell silent when Y/N's fingers went to the first button of his shirt and opened it. They both looked into each other's eyes while she repeated this with the other buttons. Carefully, Y/N ran the exposed skin back up as she undid the last button. As she did so, she could swear Demetri gasped several times. Arriving at his shoulders, she slipped the shirt off his body. She let her fingers wander further up his neck and pulled him down to her. This time it was Y/N who deepened the kiss directly as Demetri's hands worked their way down to her thighs. He lifted her up without breaking the kiss and placed her on the bed behind them.

The vampire and his mate created their own little world that night under the protection of her darkness. A world where Bella and the Cullens were forgotten. Where Y/N's fears for the future had no place. Where the ringing of Y/N's cell phone was ignored and where she belonged completely to Demetri.

A world that shattered with the first rays of daylight. When Y/N opened her eyes, she was aware not only of the burning sensation left by Demetri's touch, but also of the tightness in her lungs. She had betrayed her sister.

Y/N turned in bed to face her window. The side of the bed on which Demetri had been lying was cold, but not empty. A note lay on the pillow. Confused, the young girl straightened up, grabbed it and read it.

"Daylight exposes your sins more and more, so why still try to hide them in the darkness?"

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

I will write a Part 3

@twilightlover2007​ @ssnapsaurus @svtbpbts

@xxx-wounded-angel-xxx  @ms-sasa​

[slut4thebroken]

Chapter four: Proof

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Arkham Knight/Jason Todd × Bruce's daughter!reader

Summary | Jason won’t believe you no matter what you say so you decide to find proof.

Warnings | Angst, so much angst, but also fluffy moments here and there, Jay needs a hug, he’s doing his best.

Words | 2.8k

Notes | I didn’t add any smut to the beginning of the chapter sorry guys😔 I’m probably going to add more at the end of the fic tho

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter three

A few hours later you were laying with your head on his lap as you both read a book, the news playing faintly on the tv. You jolted up when you heard it. 

“We’re coming to you live just minutes after the explosion at Wayne Manor, following the dramatic unmasking of billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne as Batman.” You stared at the screen in shock listening to her explain what happened. “It was reported that Wayne and another man were inside at the time of the explosion, the whereabouts of his daughter are still unknown. Though no bodies have been recovered on the scene yet, officials highly doubt that anyone made it out alive.” Even though you didn’t want to believe it, they were broadcasting live footage of the manor on fire, the entire front part in pieces on the ground. 

“No…” You said quietly, still staring at the screen in shock. “No, that- that doesn’t make sense.” The tv went black, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from it. You felt Jason’s hand on your shoulder and distantly heard him calling your name, but you kept your eyes on the empty screen. 

“I have to… I need to find him.” You said through a breath, standing up and walking to the bedroom to get dressed. You felt numb. You still didn’t believe this was true and honestly you don’t think you can handle it if it is. An arm on your bicep turned you around and you were met with the sight of Jason, brows furrowed, asking you where you’re going. 

“I have to find him.” 

“Sweetheart…” 

“No! No. This can’t happen, he wouldn’t let this happen.” You said, pulling away from him to change clothes. 

“Call him.” 

“I don’t have my fucking phone.” You snapped, immediately regretting speaking to him like that. 

“I know.” He held out a phone and you stared at it with furrowed brows. Why is he letting you do this? After he went through all the trouble of not letting you contact him. Instead of questioning him, you took the phone in shaky hands and dialed his number. It went straight to voicemail, so you tried again. Then the house phone. Then the bat phone that he barely even uses. Then Dick. 

“Who is this?” 

“Dick?” 

“Oh my god you’re okay. Bruce said you were taken.”

“No I- I’m fine.” Did he not tell him about Jason? “Have you seen the news?”

“Not yet, why?” 

“There was an explosion. At the manor. My dad and Alfred were inside.” He was quiet for a moment and you held your breath as you waited. 

“Shit. Are they okay?” 

“It- it said they think they’re dead. Dick, did he tell you about anything he had planned? Where he would go- anything?” 

“No… But I mean, he revealed his identity, it’s not surprising someone would do this.” 

“No- He’s not- they’re not dead. He wouldn’t be that stupid, it has to be some kind of staged thing. And plus they haven’t even found any bodies yet.” He said your name softly and you knew he was about to make you feel delusional. Just like he did with Jason. 

“Don’t fucking call me crazy again because I was right last time.” You hissed, practically shaking from all the emotions you were feeling. 

“What? What do you mean you were right?” You glanced at Jason. Your dad really didn’t tell him... Why wouldn’t he tell him? 

“Jason… He’s- he’s not dead.” He was silent for so long, you almost thought he hung up. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” He said lowly. 

“He’s alive. He was the one who took me.”

“You’re with him right now?” You glanced at him again, finding his jaw clenched as he stared at the wall next to you. 

“Yes.” Once again, the prolonged silence made you think he hung up, but you just waited anxiously for his response.

“Is he okay?” He finally asked, voice just barely shaking. You stared at Jason, debating how to respond. 

“He will be. Please help me, Dick. You know him- he wouldn’t let himself get blown up, he’s not that careless.” You begged and he let out a heavy sigh. 

“Let me call some people. I’ll let you know if I find anything.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Of course. And- will you just… tell him I miss him? And I’m sorry for giving up on him so easily.” 

“I will.” He hung up and you slowly lowered the phone from your ear, watching Jason turn back to face you. “He misses you.” You handed him the phone and he rolled his eyes as he put it back in his pocket. 

“I’m sure he’s plenty happy with his new baby brother.” He scoffed, walking back into the living room. You trailed after him, sitting next to him on the couch. 

“You should go see him.” You said softly. 

“I’m good.” He picked up his book, trying to ignore you. 

“Even if you don’t consider them your family anymore, they’re still my family. You can’t avoid them forever.” He looked over his book at you with narrowed eyes. 

“Watch me.” He spat, then focused on the page again. 

“Jay, I’m serious.” 

“So am I.” He fired back. You sighed and looked away from him- you don’t want to argue about this right now, not while you’re so worried about your dad and Alfred and…

“Oh my god…” You muttered, suddenly remembering. “Oh my god, Blue.” 

“What?”

“Blue-”

“That thing is still alive? It was ancient when you stole it.”

“I don’t know if he’s still alive, that's why I’m freaking out.” You gritted, even though his response almost made you laugh. “And I did not steal him. It was the cat distribution system.” 

“Okay, princess.” 

“And he’s not an ‘it.’” 

God you hoped he was okay. Especially after he lost Jason too, he deserves to know he’s still alive. As your thoughts moved back to Jason, you thought of another idea. 

“Do you still have your… Arkham Knight resources?” This time when he looked over his book at you, it was with curiosity. 

“Bruce pretty much took all of it down but I still have some.”

“Can you- Will you help me?” You asked nervously. When he didn’t respond immediately, you continued. “Not for him. For me. Please, Jason.” Lowering the book, he sighed and looked away from you as he clenched his jaw. 

“Fine. For you.” He muttered, making the corners of your lips turn up. He went to his room, closing the door behind him, and you waited anxiously. It only took a few minutes before he was walking back out. 

“I have someone looking into something, but honestly it doesn’t seem very promising.” He said, sitting back down next to you on the couch. 

“Thank you, Jay.” You gave him a small smile and kissed his cheek, making him blush. “What would I do without you?”

“Probably die in an explosion since you would’ve gone home.” Your smile turned into a frown and you could see the exact moment when he realized what he said. “…Too soon?” He asked nervously. 

“It happened like 20 minutes ago so yeah- too soon.” You glared at him, but when he gave you a sheepish smile, your expression softened. 

“Noted.” Instead of letting you reply, he scooped you up and placed you on his lap, hugging you from the side. “I’m sure he’s okay. You’re right, he’s not that careless.” He said, rubbing a hand up and down your leg to soothe you. As a comfortable silence filled the room, you kept repeating the reporter’s words in your head. 

“Wait… How did they know he’s Batman?” You leaned back enough to see his face as you stared at him with furrowed brows. 

“Scarecrow gave him an ultimatum.” He shrugged eyes not meeting your own. “This time he actually chose to save Robin.” He added bitterly. You mulled his words over in your head. You want to help him get over this, but how do you reverse months of emotional manipulation? 

“If you think that, then you also think that I didn’t choose to save you.” That made him scoff. 

“No I don’t.” 

“Well, he stopped looking after I stopped. So I guess that means I’m worse than him.” You shrugged. 

“Stop. I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work.” 

“I don’t even think you really understand what I’m trying to do, Jay.”

“You’re trying to manipulate me! You’re trying to feed me the same lies he fed you.” You almost thought he was about to throw you off his lap to the floor because of how angry he sounded. You were silent for a moment, debating how to respond. 

“You really think I’d do that to you?” You asked quietly, staring into eyes that wouldn’t meet your own. 

“He’s your fucking dad, why wouldn’t you?” He spat. Ouch... It’s understandable that he’s hurt and angry, but it still hurt knowing he thought of you like that. 

“Got it.” You whispered. Should you get off his lap? He’s still holding you though... Should you leave the room? Change the subject? “I would’ve thought that out of everyone, you’d trust me the most to tell you the truth.” 

“I’m not- That’s not it. I'm sure you’re telling me what you think is true but that doesn’t change the fact that he lied to you.” 

“He didn’t though!” This back and forth was getting really old. “You know what? I’ll prove it to you.” You got off his lap and walked to his room again to change into your clothes. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He sighed, trailing after you. 

“I’m gonna go watch the damn video myself. It’s on the batcomputer and there’s another entrance to the batcave besides the one in the manor. So I’m gonna go watch it, then we’ll know.” 

“Are you crazy? You can’t go there.” 

“Why not? They already blew it up, I doubt they’ll do it again.” You sat on the edge of the bed as you put your shoes on. 

“You’re not going.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest. You stopped tying your shoe and looked up at him.  

“Excuse me?” 

“It’s too dangerous. You’re not going there.” He shrugged and you clenched your jaw. 

“You know what, Jason? Fuck you. Do you think I want to watch a video of the love of my life being tortured and murdered? I’m doing it for you.” 

“For me?” He scoffed, frowning at you. 

“Yes! Because whatever Joker said to fuck with your mind is still affecting you and no matter what I say, you won’t believe me.” You finished tying your shoes, then stood up, walking to the front door, but Jason grabbed your bicep and turned you around. 

“You said you weren’t going to keep me here forever.” 

“I’m not.” He sighed. “I’m going with you.” Even though he more than likely meant to protect you, it gave you a sliver of hope when he agreed to go. Maybe that means he’s going to be more open minded about all this. 

One long, silent drive later and you were entering the batcave. Everything pretty much looked intact- at least no one’s found this yet. You sat down in front of the computer, Jason standing behind you with his arms crossed, scowling. 

“Would’ve been somewhere he wouldn’t think I’d look…” You muttered, running through the options in your head. After a few minutes of trying a couple things, Jason sighed. 

“Can you just admit that you were wrong and this was a waste of time?” You ignored him, continuing to try and guess the password for a locked folder. After the fifth guess, the login screen was replaced with a dark, blurry screen. This has to be it, but now that it’s right in front of you, you’re having second thoughts about watching it. You shouldn’t show Jason either, that’s messed up on so many levels. You can just convince him another way. 

“This was stupid,”

“Play it.” He demanded, staring blankly at the screen with a clenched jaw. 

“Jason…”

“Play it.”

You took a deep breath and, with a shaky hand, pressed play. It opened with Jason, exhausted and broken, the J mark somewhat fresh on his cheek. 

“Have you got something to tell the nice man, Jason?” The sound of Joker's voice made you sick to your stomach. 

“My name.. is Jason Todd.” 

“Who do you hate?”

“Batman.” He only hesitated for a moment, but with the way he said it, you knew he was telling the truth. 

“Excellent.” The video zoomed out suddenly, showing him sitting in a chair, not even restrained. “Of course you do.” Joker rounded the camera and leaned down so only his face was in the frame. At the sight of him, you just felt blinding rage. You could barely even hear the video because you could only concentrate on him. The loud gunshot, followed by Jason being flung backwards, snapped you out of it though. He laid there, not moving or breathing, until the screen went black again and the video ended. 

You sat there, holding your breath and staring at the blank screen, building up the courage to turn around. When you did, you found him still staring at the screen, brows furrowed in confusion as his bottom lip trembled. Then he started shaking his head. 

“That doesn’t make sense. He already replaced me months before that. I saw the picture.”

“Tim helped look for you.” You said quietly, worried you’d set him off. “Honestly, part of me thinks that the whole reason my dad recruited him in the first place was to have more help.” You debated adding this next part. “And are you sure that’s how long it was? Or is that just what he told you.” 

“No… That's not- it’s a trick. Or he edited it or something.” 

“That didn’t happen to you?” You could tell just by his face that it did. 

“I don’t understand.” He muttered, brows furrowing even more. 

“Joker lied to you. He manipulated you. Is that really so hard to believe?” You tried to put the explanation right in front of him, but he still couldn’t see it. 

“But, he-“ 

“No, Jay. Just answer this. Would Joker lie to you?” He nodded. “Would I?” He was frozen, just staring at you. “I know you need more time and I’m not trying to force you back into the family right now, but”

“No.” He said, significantly harsher. “If Bruce was the cause of everything, then I can still get revenge. But if it was Joker… that’s it. I can’t kill him, I can’t do anything.” His voice started shaking and he glanced away from you. 

“Jay…” You stood and cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over the marred skin that you’ve slightly gotten used to by now. You wanted to tell him that he doesn’t need revenge to get closure, but other than slowly just getting over it, the only way you would be able to get closure was if the Joker died from something worse than a fucking disease. 

“I felt the same way. I wanted to kill him myself for what he did to you and the fact that he just died from a disease feels like mercy. Do you want to know the one thing that helped me start to get over it?” He just barely nodded. 

“Don’t laugh at me for sounding cheesy, but.. love. Getting you back, feeling whole again, just made revenge seem less important. That’s what family does. They make you feel whole again and I can tell you that right now, our family is still missing something and I know you are too.”

“I can’t go back. Not after everything.” He whispered, biting his bottom lip when it started trembling again. 

“You came back to me.” You said softly. 

“That’s different. I didn’t try to kill you.” 

“Jay, I think if I can forgive you trying to kill my dad, then the others will forgive you just fine. They all miss you a lot.”

“I- I don’t…”

“Just start small. We can get lunch or something with Dick, so you can work your way up to it.” You suggested, carefully monitoring his expression so you don’t push him too far. 

“I’ll think about it.” He said quietly and you gave him a small smile. This was the best case scenario- him saying anything other than no. You pulled him into a hug, standing on your toes so he’d be more comfortable, then used one hand to run your fingers through his hair like you used to. 

“You don’t have to be alone anymore. I’m here now, and I know everyone else will be too, if you let them.” You said softly, making his grip tighten around your body as he kept this head in the crook of your neck. 

Chapter five

Tag list

@igotanidea @clairacassidy @phoenixgurl030 @halleest @emmerskiri @randomgurl2326 @darkmercury

[sehtoast]

My Boys (Depowered Homelander x OC, Meeting His Mother)

1.8k | angsty but sweet | Fic Directory

Request: Can I request a fic where Ben and homelander travel back in time to see his mother.

I’m not going to go into how they managed to time travel– only that they did– and it’s gonna have to be non-canon to my depowered homie's mom content bc time travel can get goofy, but here we go~

God, this was a bad idea from the start.  Neither one of them were prepared for the complexities of doing this– let alone simple things like the post time hop nausea they’d been warned about.  They’d been cautioned against overstaying their welcome.  Don’t step on any ants, definitely don’t sneeze around people, and absolutely no altering anything no matter how fucking terrible it is in the moment.

That’s all there was in that poor woman’s life.  Terrible, terrible things.  Horrific experiments and abuses.  It would be a fucking challenge for both of them not to kill the head doctor of that time, but… 

Homelander needed this.  John needed this.  The little boy who never had a parent, who never thought he ever would, who only met her through a patchy reconstruction of her patient file long after she was dead– he needed this.

He needed his mother.

Ben’s powers made it easy to bypass security.  He was a supe, obviously he was affiliated with Vought.  Homelander got by entirely as Benjamin’s plus one.  Things only got hairy as they broke in deeper through the facility's laboratories.  Stolen badges paved the way, guards were strung up in cocoons of webbing, knocked out and hidden from the grainy security cameras… 

It was messy, but they’d managed not to trip any alarms. They’d both donned lab coats to pass by unnoticed to whoever may be monitoring the cameras.  By the time they stood outside of her door, the same one listed in her files, Homelander was shaking.  His hands were balled in fists and held tight to his sides, eyes set with a determination that swirled with fear.

Benjamin was no better.  This was… quite an undertaking.  The risk of altering the present was dangerously high.  Every single action was volatile, though the effects couldn’t be determined until the end.  One thing, though, that would be okay…

They’d touched down in the year 1982.  No matter what happened, John had already been born, so they couldn’t fuck up too terribly .  Of course, Ben also worried there was a tingling of opportunity in his love’s head to go save himself during this trip of theirs.

“Remember,” Ben breathed.  “We go in, we meet her.  You guys talk, we leave.  We can���t change anything.”  He shook his head at how he’d delivered the reminder.  “Sorry, that’s… I know this isn’t gonna be easy…”

Homelander simply nodded and swiped the badge.  The door to her room opened slowly as if it were a bulkhead shifting.  Given what Ben knew about her powers and documented volatility, it made sense; however, she’d been kept sedated for years and there was simply no need.  Still, precautions…

As titanic as the situation was… the reveal was anything but. In the center of the room was his mother, reclined and restrained in a hospital bed.  Ben grimaced at the sight, but Homelander stilled entirely.  The web-head pressed a hand to his back, rubbing soothing circles.

“We got this,” Ben whispered. “ We got this…”

Immediately following his voice was a deep, breathy exhale from inside the room.  

The wall crawler took Homelander by the hand and walked forward slowly, hand out in a surrender-like gesture toward the woman.

John stood there, stunned out of his own body.  He felt like he was watching a movie scene play out.  His head felt light but his body was so, so fucking heavy.  He felt as though he could crumble if he heard so much as a pin drop.  He focused on the breaths coming from her– from his mother – and he gripped Benjamin’s hand with all of his might.  His knees began to quake, but somehow he managed to utter that one fucking word he’s never been able to call someone.

“M-Mom..?” A chill ran down his spine when her eyes flickered up to him, gazing at him with the same vibrant blues that stared back at him in the mirror.  

She was gaunt, nearly fucking malnourished if not for the IV lines keeping her alive.  It seemed a miracle that she could so much as breathe on her own.  The woman was clad in a hospital gown and a thin blanket that draped down her legs.  Streams of long, tangled gray hair fell over her shoulders, littered with strands that still retained her natural dark brown color.  

The photo Benjamin had found in her patient file had made her look far older than she was.  The web-head would be surprised if she was any older than sixty-five…

“I… It’s me, mom,” Homelander rasped through the tightness of a bitten-back sob, hand hovering just above hers. He cracked a smile. “It’s me, I– I’m your son! I’m Ho– I’m John…” 

Ben watched with a broken heart as Homelander began to falter and shatter, falling to his knees with tears rolling down his face as he sputtered through the same declarations twice more.  At one point, he laid his hand on top of John’s to finally nudge him to take his mother’s hand.  

The woman watched with nearly lifeless eyes, breaths huffing out loudly through her mouth.  She’d been kept heavily sedated, per her file, since the day she’d been injected with a trial of Compound V.  If she was conscious of what was going on… chances are it wasn’t by much.

Ben watched Homelander bury his face against the bed and bring her limp hand to rest against his hair.  The sight was enough to break his heart all over again… Listening to him weep, being powerless to make it better… He chose to change the only thing he had any control of in that moment– something to keep him from crumbling too.  A glance around the room and he spotted a dusty hair brush resting on a metal tray.  Many of the bristles were worn down or missing, but it would do.

Benjamin started from the bottom of her hair and worked up, just like he used to do for his Gran… He listened and worked while John told her all about his life, telling her how much he loves her and wishes he could’ve known her.  

“I hate them so fucking much for what they’ve done to us…” he laughed miserably.  “Think the only good thing I ever really got out of all of this was Ben,” Homelander continued, gesturing to him.  “He’s good to me, mama, I promise you don’t have to worry about that.  That’s him brushing your hair…”

To the sheer shock of both, her head twitched the slightest bit to the side– just enough that her gaze could meander toward Benjamin.  

She fucking moved…

“See,” Homelander rasped.  “He’s sweet…  See how he’s not even tugging your hair with that brush, mama?  You’d have never even known he was doing it.”

Ben shivered under her unrelenting stare.  There was something unsettling about it, but not in a bad way.  It was like… like she had no other way of saying what she wanted other than through her eyes.  Benjamin was no mind reader, but, if he had to guess, he imagined she was telling him that he better not hurt her baby.  At least he’d like to think so, anyway.

“I don’t have my powers anymore but… he used to make me eat even though I never really needed to all that much.” Homelander continued, voice wavering and tight.  “I went through some… real bad stuff when I lost my powers, but Ben saved me.  He always makes me take my vitamins… He helped me learn how to cook, too.  I’m really good at making macaroni and cheese,” he chuckled through his tears. “He’s there for me when I’m sad and he always cheers m-me up, mama, I promise he does! And he got us here from our time so I could meet you…”

Ben swallowed thickly around a sob threatening to break free.  A few tears escaped, but he still tried to blink back the rest.

“He’s exaggerating,” Ben murmured.  He tilted his head to smile fondly at Homelander.  “I’m actually a total thorn in his side, y’know?  And he whines about the vitamins.”

“They taste terrible!”

“They taste like watermelon candy and they’re delicious!”  Ben retailed playfully, and the two began to giggle.  “I could always sneak them into your–”

Benjamin’s eyes shot wide open and, if not for John’s expression being identical, he’d think he was entirely fucking insane.  A weak grip landed on his wrist, just above the hand that still held a lock of her hair.  His eyes flitted slowly to look at her, but, instead, she was looking down at Homelander.

The room would be dead silent if not for her wheezy breaths.  Her lips twitched, and each of them stared at her in sheer shock and awe.

The first sound she ever uttered to them was more of a rattle, but… she did it.  Over and over again, she did it, pushing herself to build upon each noise.

“Ma…” Was the sound she worked the hardest on– the first she made.  Over and over again, following with, “Buhs…” 

She pressed her lips hard together and strained, pushing the words from her throat in a tight, hoarse tone.  The lightbulb clicked in both John and Ben’s minds simultaneously.

My boys.

They stayed with her for a while after that, talking to her, finishing brushing her hair, telling her about their lives.  Where they came from, what they do, all of the good things they’ve been through together. She faded in and out of wakefulness and varying degrees of awareness, but she seemed to enjoy their little tales of the world– of the future.

Leaving was the hardest thing either of them had ever done in their lives, but they had no choice.  Benjamin, rule breaker and quick thinker that he was, ended up revealing that he’d brought his phone.  It didn’t take much convincing to make Homelander willing to have his first ever photo taken with his mother, nor one shot of all three of them together.

Each of them left her with a hug and a promise.

“I’ll keep him safe.”

“I’ll be good, mama.”

The days following their return to their own time proved normal as ever, save for the trillion-pound emotional weight thrown upon their shoulders.  Ben spent his spare time making changes to a very special little stone, modified based on a paper he’d snagged just before they left her room.

They’d decided to take a visit to the graveyard where they’d had a headstone installed for her. Standing there, having finally met her, spending time with her… it felt different.  Like a part of her lingered there with them, brought home to finally rest, guided to peace by her boys.

 Gone was the nearly nameless stone, replaced instead with…

In loving memory of Patricia L. Gillman.

[queenofcats17]

Alright, so, I'm definitely not going to be writing out the whole podcast, but I definitely have some snippets I want to do.

So, here are some of the snippets I want to write and what I'm thinking of doing for them.

So, first of all, I really want to write out the scene in the auditorium with all the King in Yellow cultists. Because I think John absolutely did not want to go into the underground city and absolutely did not want to follow the cultists, but Arthur talked him into it.

And when they're in the auditorium and the cultist says the line from the play to John, John instinctually responds with the next line from the play. And that's when he remembers everything. I think by this point, some bits and pieces have been coming back to him. He remembers Anna and Amanda and that he helped them escape from something, but he still doesn't entirely remember what it was he saved them from or why he hates the symbol on his back. But when he recites the line from the play, the last lock keeping his memories back breaks open and it all comes back.

I think him losing his memories when Arthur went into his head was a defense mechanism of sorts on his part. A way to protect himself by locking everything away.

But the line from the play, spoken from his own lips, reminds him of everything. And he tries to flee. But the cultists catch him and drag him up onto the stage. The lead cultist remarks that Arthur has something that doesn't belong to him. That they remember him. Ten years ago a portal was opened for their King, but an interloper came through instead. Now, they will correct the mistake they made. Their King will have his destined vessel. Meanwhile, John is just struggling and screaming obscenities. Then they’re propped up in front of the mirror and Arthur sees… The King in Yellow.

After that, John encounters the King in Yellow in his mindscape, who greets him warmly. John is immediately hostile, yelling at the King to get away from him, that he belongs to no one but himself. And the King just laughs and shakes his head like he's dealing with a child having a tantrum. He says John has forgotten his purpose, but he'll remind him. He just needs to rid John's body of the outsider and the two of them will do great things together. But John continues to lash out and eventually, the King gets annoyed and says he'll deal with John and Arthur on his own turf.

Then we see Arthur and the King in Yellow facing off. They meet in a void, a figure in a yellow cloak and a figure in a white one. This is one I've actually written out some dialogue for.

“You have something that doesn’t belong to you, friend,” the King says.

“Is that so?” Arthur replies, an edge to his friendliness. “Do you think he belongs to you, then?”

“He is my destined vessel,” the King says. “He was specially prepared for me. He carries a piece of my essence. He is mine.”

Arthur laughs somewhat derisively. “No, he’s not.” He leans closer, smiling with far too many teeth. “He’s mine.”

The King sneers. “You’re nothing but an interloper. A trespasser. I am the one he was made for.”

“Then why don’t you just get rid of me and take him?” Arthur asks, smile widening. “It’s because you can’t, can you? Not while John’s hanging onto me the way he is.”

“He’ll change his mind,” the King says coldly. “He has a role to play. And I’ll make sure he plays it.”

“Over my dead body.” Arthur’s smile drops and his voice goes just as cold.

Now it’s the King’s turn to smile. “That can be arranged.”

And then John wakes up on the beach in the Dreamlands with Arthur still in his head.

.

Second, I had an interesting idea about what would happen when the King catches Arthur and John in the Dreamlands.

So, since John is the King's destined vessel, I think the King would be much more careful to not damage John's body. I think John and Arthur would be kept in what is essentially a gilded cage. It's a lavish golden castle that's beautiful and glittering, but cold. Everything is beautiful but incredibly uncomfortable to exist in.

I think the King would probably still try to starve John, feeding him only enough to allow him to survive and making it clear that this can stop if John only cooperates and agrees to relinquish himself to the King and/or Arthur agrees to leave. I think part of the King's rationale is to make Arthur realize that his refusal to let John go is only hurting John.

I think being the King's chosen Vessel, John has been imbued with some sort of power. This means if he's fighting, the King has a harder time claiming the body. This would be irritating, but not too much of a problem if Arthur wasn't also there. Arthur may not be as powerful as the King, but he's got his hooks deep in John and John is clinging to Arthur hard.

But the King reasons he can deal with these obstacles if he can just weaken John's will and force Arthur into a position where he has to give in to keep John from getting hurt.

[sioster]

Violence & blood below weewoo

@obsecure-pluto Here's the chapter 5 snippet I mentioned I wrote some time ago- keep in mind that I wrote this like 5 months ago without proofreading so it can be a bit stinky. There's also a bit of rambling included before the snippet to set up the scene 👍

Also orange text is context I added rn to make it more understandable

Wil shows up to the place of the coords and sees. the last person hoped this alarm was about. few roofs away stands his most despised enemy out of all that he has met in his superhero career

dream/zmora doesn't notice him until hes running and about to punch him in the back of his head, wils just very unhappy forgiv him. wil jumpscares dream and they just fight, dream desperately tries to not hit him, especially not in the spots that were affected by the accident (remember that hes still v guilty about the whole identity thing /this wasn't mentioned in the original post but to treat wil, dream had to unmask him without consent/) while wil just has none of this and on top of just being annoyed by the sole existance of dream, theres this pent up anger about what happened- how could he be so careless and not see that fire coming? /this wasn't mentioned either, wil blew himself up cuz of sapnap's fire that dream redirected/ he could have just taken a step back, moved out of the way,- anything-

and now what? he has to deal with constant pain everytime he moves from those stupid burns- the fact that, that guy can just- tell the entire world about who he really is-

and he lost a part of his hand-

now that he was out and free, he was so frustrated with everything. /as in he left civilian-dream's flat- be wasn't kept there by force tho- the doors were always open, wil was just too injuried to leave yet/

he couldnt even catch a break! the second he was out, he had to go to the stupid meeting, and now fight with an even stupider, full of himself, annoying, awful, green maggot that has wormed its way into his life and infested it with all of its putrid ways of being

with a single strong push dream loses his footing and hits his head on the border of the roof

-----

With a sickening sound and a gasp cut short, his head cracks open staining the grey concrete with blood. Even if it's hard to see it in the dark, lights from the street under them illuminates bright enough to let Wilbur see the shining, dark liquid pooling under Dream's head.

The Hero takes half a step back, the cold night breeze making him shiver.

There's silence.

The furious, hot embers in his chest dimming for a second, only to return twice as red with hate.

Deathly still face frozen in time, hidden behind dark bandages, turns into an ugly grimace splitting it into two wrinkled halves.

He leans over and grabs the collar of the dirty green suit, making his Enemy's head softly lull into his direction.

"You've made my blood boil so many times, for you to just stop doing what you've always done, and die?" He sneered "Was all of this just to f- with me?"

He shook his fists still full of the green cloth, dragging the bleeding body with it. Burning amber eyes were scrunched with frustration as they tried to find any sings of an answer to the spitten out questions.

"Answer me!"

But there was no answer, only a quiet gurgle coming from behind the ever smiling mask.

"You haven't even tried to fight me this time! Did you think that I'm too weak? That I would just surrender without you even doing a single move? That I'm just some poor imitation of a superhero with no powers?" He clenched his teeth and started shaking the man whose coppery tang of blood started to engulf both of them "Do you think that you're better than me?! Do you think that I can't even help myself?! That I need someone to take care of me because I was hurt too badly?!"

The honey eyes lost their brightness as salty tears began pooling in theirs corners. Face no longer wrinkled, he let out a shallow breath.

"Why the hell am I talking to a corpse. It's not like he ever used his voice when alive either.

With shaky hands he let go of the ghostly pale human, and put them under his arms searching for any kind of warmth. Averting his gaze, he shivered once more.

A strong tremor accompanied by choking, violently shook the crimson stained figure. Out of the corner of his eyes, Wilbur saw even more blood coming from under the mask.

He did not do anything to help the surprisingly alive man, only observed with squinted eyes just like a predator waiting for a reason to strike.

As if they were submerged in the sea, desperate gasps to get some air in one's lungs and muffled words filled the space around them. The Hero looked at the drowning man, face scrunched in disgust.

When the uncontrollable shaking and distorted, wailed sentences became too much, he turned around and teared off the smiling mask off of his enemy's face "What now? Suddenly eager to fight for your life? You damned-"

He froze.

There, teary eyed and with a broke nose, was a familiar face. The face of the civilian who took care of him without asking. Who didn't mind how untrustful he was. Who didn't care about wasting bandages on him.

The face of the man who made him want to scream in hatred and cry of frustration without an end in sight.

The face of the human he just watched almost suffocate in his own blood.

With bitter tears trailing down purple cheeks, red teeth and trembling lips the Villain spoke.

"I'm so sorry"

Blood streaming down the pale chin bubbled one last time and the regretful, green eyes rolled back into the blonde's head.

The Hero stood paralyzed.

[woah-were-halfway-there]

(I don't really know how to write a prompt but) A little spicy 🥲 but a dialogue prompt about Auston and Carson having a convo when he's on a road trip and he's worked up for her and a little extracurricular s happen over the phone.

Ooooof ok ok so the asks I got no one gave me actual dialogue, just concepts/scenarios hahaha 🤣😭 I meant like you guys give me a quote or two of dialogue you’d want spoken by one of the characters literally in any context and I’d write a scene around it but it’s all good I’ll try my best regardless hahaha but they’re not going to be long. Just enough to create the image. SO for this one:

It was nearing one in the morning, which was much later than Carson intended to be awake until, but with Auston being on the west coast for the next few days she didn’t want to cut their conversation short. They’d been talking on the phone over an hour, FaceTiming and just catching up with one another.

When Auston first called, Carson was in the bathtub enjoying some wine and trying to unwind a bit before going to bed. Auston wanted to unwind too, but he had a different idea on how to do so than Carson did.

“I’m surprised you’re still in the bath,” Auston said, shifting their topic of conversation. “Are you not cold?”

“Oh, no,” Carson replied. “I just keep adding some warm water. I didn’t want to get out until we were done talking.”

“You can get out, bub. Or I can let you go so you can.”

“No, no, it’s ok. I’m good. I also just left my towel over on the counter and I didn’t want to get out and be all… you know.”

Auston smirked at that, knowing exactly what Carson meant and decided to test the waters a bit, but not without teasing her a bit.

“Naked?” Auston asked bluntly and smirked even more when he saw the blush burning it’s way across his girlfriends cheeks. “I mean, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Auston,” Carson spoke softly while shaking her head.

Auston couldn’t help but chuckle.

“What? Am I wrong?”

“No, but you don’t have to say it.”

“I think you’re severely underestimating how hot you are, babe,” Auston told her, loving how he was making her squirm.

“And here I was thinking you liked me for my personality,” Carson grumbled in response, but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips too.

“I love you for your personality, the looks and body are an added bonus.”

“You’re too much.”

“And yet you’re still with me,” Auston replied and winked. Carson just shook her head, not saying anything but still smiling. It was then Auston decided he’d test the waters on taking a different approach to their conversation. “Wish I could see that body right now if I’m being completely honest.”

Carson’s smile fell at that, which had Auston thinking she may not be in the mood, but then she glanced at him on the screen under fluttered eyelashes and spoke again.

“What would you do if you could?” She asked almost whispering.

Auston exhaled.

“What I wouldn’t do is the real question. First off, I’d want to get a good look at you.”

“Good thing that can be arranged… kind of,” Carson said and before Auston knew it, she was turning her phone sideways and setting it down on a surface beside the bathtub that he couldn’t see, displaying her entirely naked upper body for him. “This is the best I can do for you.”

“Fuck,” Auston said, letting out a slight laugh at the breathless feeling he always got when looking at her so intimately. “You’re perfect.”

Carson started blushing again but kept her poker face as she leaned back against the porcelain, letting herself get comfortable.

“What would you do next?”

“I’d touch you. I couldn’t not with you looking like that, Carse. Since I can’t right now, could you do that for me?”

Carson was still blushing. Auston knew she still got shy doing this kind of stuff but he also knew that she trusted him to feel so open and vulnerable, which he didn’t take for granted. After a moment, she bit her lip nervously then nodded before bringing one hand to one of her breasts and gently squeezed while her other hand slid down off camera to where she ached for him most.

“Fuck,” Auston groaned again, not even bothering to hide how turned on he was watching her. “You’re so good for me.”

“Aus,” Carson started but had to stop as she let out a small moan, indicating she was feeling good.

“How’s that feel?”

“Really good,” Carson breathed as her movements gradually sped up. “I want you to feel good too.”

“So selfless,” Auston praised as he tugged down his track pants and boxers, freeing what was hardening with each passing second. He looked down at himself and stroked a couple of times before looking at Carson again. “Would you like to see?”

“Mhm,” Carson whimpered then let out another moan. That was enough to have Auston scrambling off the bed and rushing to the bathroom of his hotel room, making sure she could see as they pleased themselves to a release together.

[emeraldtied]

➤ Take A Look | Accepting (slowly)

↳ @ofteaandmagic asked: Arrow: send HELPED for a scene from my muse's past in which someone helped / saved them

{➹} – IT WAS THE SMALLEST movement, but Rosie had noticed it. It would have been impossible for her not to. For hours, since receiving the one phone call no mother wanted to receive, she had been at his bedside alternating between trying to compose herself and diligently watching the teenaged hedgehog as he slept. Hours passed, and while she knew it was normal she couldn't help but be nervous.

Something that greatly improved when she saw those green hues open. She still wasn't fully used to them, but she was overjoyed to see them alert.

"It's okay..." The woodchuck kept her voice low, quiet, as to not startle him more, one hand intertwined with his and the other laid gently on his head. It took a few moments for him to register what was happening, she could tell, but it didn't stop her from smiling at him when he looked at her. She could feel tears pricking her eyes again. "You're safe here."

It was true, but she wasn't daft either. The doctors had filled her in on everything that had happened. How her son had been been found on his bathroom floor, unresponsive and all the evidence there that it had been his own doing. Why she knew they weren't going to let her take him home right away, why they both were under careful watch.

It was something the hedgehog themselves confirmed just hours later when he could properly talk, if only just barely. She didn't know why he did, she hadn't ask nor pushed for the information, knowing it would only exasperate things. Maybe he knew the evidence was all there, that there was no point in hiding it. And Rosie broke down again, she couldn't help it. The pain was raw, what could have been still far too fresh in her mind. And she didn't know if it was that, the weight of his actions, or perhaps regret, but her son had scrambled to explain himself in a hoarse voice.

And this soon turned into him recounting the last few years, revealing things that the woodchuck had been oblivious about. She didn't stop him, couldn't imagine doing so...

She only listened, as a mother it was her duty. It hurt to hear, how she had been kept in the dark about so much, how she had been so clueless to her son's plight. How the weight on his shoulders had grown until it had crushed him just a few hours ago. How no one had even known. Not even her.

She thought she had been doing him a favor by giving him space like he asked, by letting him do what he was best at. But she had been wrong. She had been so wrong. Yet not once did he blame her, in fact the words he hurled his own way, the way he degraded himself in front of her while recounted everything that had happened, broke her heart. Shattered it to pieces.

Yet it didn't compare to how broken she could see he was. He had scars she had never seen before, she could almost see his ribs under his thinner fur and the subtle shaking of his entire body was due to something she knew was only marginally due to current events. The doctors had confirmed that much as well. And that was just the physical aspect to it.

Chaos knew the mental toll it all and taken.

She had embraced him, it was all she could think to do, and the hedgehog didn't fight it. He only broke down in an instant. She had never heard him cry like that, not even as a child. He felt as if he would break further under her hug, but she didn't let go. She wasn't going to let him be alone in this anymore.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sonic," she shushed gently, holding him as close as she could without it being uncomfortable. "I'm going to help you, I promise. You're going to get through this. I know you will.

"I still love you."

[nathanbatemanfucker]

K. (requested)

request: Hi besti! I just saw your post about taking some request. Could you pls make a story base on the lyrics of K. by Cigarettes after sex and its Aaron Hothner x Reader its up to u what pronouns you prefer. Also, I love your works been fan of you since day 1! Thank youu!

contents: no smut but illusions to sex, angst, happy ending

pairing: fem!reader x aaron hotchner

an: hi my friend! bc it was on anon, i kept it as sfw as possible so hope you end up liking this! thank you thank you for sending something in and for supporting me for so long <333. gif credits to @themoontaxi.

word count: 843

blurb masterlist | cm masterlist | requests are open

It happened by accident. That’s what you keep telling yourself as you sit across from Hotch at dinner later that night. The rest of the team are stuffing their faces after a long day. A long week really. But you and Hotch just pick at your food, your stomach rolling from the thought of what transpired between the two of you just a couple of hours ago.

You were vulnerable, and so was he. You’d almost died right in front of him, the bullet sinking into the concert just a mere inch from your head. And when you got back to your shared hotel room, you broke down and he held you, kissed the top of your head, murmured the sweetest things. You looked up at him, something new and intense brewing in your eyes, and when your finger traced over his bottom lip, he pressed you into the wall his lips on yours. One thing led to another and before you knew it, you were laying in a post-coital glow with your boss, the rest of the adrenaline in your body finally dissipating.

You both would have laid like that for hours if your phones hadn’t buzzed with the promise of dinner plans from the team group chat. It snapped you back into reality and you’d flown into the bathroom without so much as a word, scrubbing off the shame dutifully. It hurt, your skin was raw and young from all the washing. Your heart ached because what happened felt so right, even as you thought about how wrong it was.

That’s how you end up here, looking down at your chicken and picking at it, Hotch’s eyes burning into you. Your body is tense but your mind floats, far away from the scene you sit at here. Dinner is over in the blink of an eye, and soon you’re all headed to the jet to go home.

Weeks go by. Months pass. All you can do is avoid Hotch the best you can. He gets the hint early on, leaving you be. You figure that he’s just as embarrassed about what happened in that room as you are, that he hasn’t pushed or brought it because of his own shame, but you’re wrong.

He misses you. The taste of you, the feel of your skin, the softness of your scent. The thought of you drives him wild, the work day even more of an uphill battle as he tries to focus on everything but you. Nights are the worst. If he closes his eyes and succumbs to the thoughts of you, it’s like he can feel you. If he falls asleep with you on his mind, which is a routine occurrence, he dreams vividly about you. One dream is so clear, so delicate, and forthcoming that when he wakes up he feels tilted off his axis like the entire world is shifted. He knows he can’t keep doing this.

“You wanted to see me, sir,” You murmur stiffly, regarding him with wary eyes.

It’s the next evening after his dream, and he’s been working up the courage to talk to you all day.

He runs his thumbs over his fingers, eyes shifting around the room, “Have a seat, please, there’s something we need to discuss.”

You shake your head, as you take a seat across from him, “I thought we were both gonna let it go.”

“I was planning to.”

“And?

His cheeks flush, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip, “If I’m being completely honest, I can’t stop thinking about you. About us.”

“There is no us,” You say matter of factly but he sees you flinch ever so slightly, can hear the undercurrent of pain lancing through your voice.

“I know. But I can’t stop thinking that there could be.”

“There are rules and protocols, not to mention reputations. The gossip alone-“

“If none of that existed.”

“It does,” You answer quickly and he can’t help but smile at your stubbornness.

“But if it didn’t…” He prompts again.

“If it didn’t then yes, I wouldn’t stop thinking about us either,” It feels good to say it, to acknowledge that whatever happened between you that night is something to covet.

Hotch’s smile widens at your words, “The rules allow it. Strauss would never stop glaring at me about it, but that’s nothing new. You would have to report to Dave. The team would support us.”

“You’re saying-“

“I’m saying I want you.”

Your mouth drops open at his forwardness. If there’s one thing you never expected it would be that Hotch was in favor of continuing what happened between you that night. But here he is, looking at you with so much patience and longing that you can barely maintain eye contact. There isn’t much you can say other than your own version of yes.

Standing from your seat you hold out your hand to him, “Will you take me home, Aaron?”

If he keeps smiling this hard his cheeks will split open, but he can’t find the mind to care, “Of course, honey.”

if you’d like to be on my hotch taglist, let me know!

tagged: @ssahotchsbitch, @chelseyjoyce, @dadbodhotch11, @ssamorganhotchner, @kuolonsyoja, @heliotropehotch, @averyhotchner, @zetasaturno99, @art-and-thoughts, @laurensprentiss, @ssa-montgomery, @thinking-bucky, @ashhotchner, @moonshine-evelyn, @emlynblack, @sunshinexhotchner, @angelfxllcm, @wheelsupkels, @multiverse-mxdness, @jaspxr, @gspenc, @sadgirlml, @hotchs-bitch, @crowfootwrites, @wilbur-rabbit, @hotched, @aaronhotchy, @mommymunson, @reidselle, @fightingdragonswithreid, @honeybrowne, @rousethemouse, @my-rosegold-soul, @eternal-silvertongued-prince

[leggerefiore]

Hi! So i know about your runaway au for the subway twins but do you have any headcanons for a situation where the entire scenario is reversed? Like for example s/o escapes a yandere!Raihan and ends up taking shelter and falling for one or both of the subway bosses? Just curious

cw: yandere but not from twins

▲Ingo▼

● You couldn't recall the amount of time that had been spent hidden away in the shady house in Po Town. Guzma was a fun, loving guy at first. You thought he was easy-going and sweet, but a certain possessiveness overtook him. You weren't allowed to go anywhere without the Team Skull Boss at your side. That wasn't enough when people kept trying to talk with you, it caused him to snap and demand they leave you alone. It got even more worse when he locked you away in his bedroom with some grunts on guard to stop any attempts at leaving. Eventually, however, you managed to escape with the aid of Nanu, who took some pity on you.

● You got the hell out of Alola immediately after and disappeared into some big metropolitan area of another region. Nimbasa in Unova proved itself a different scene from anywhere in Alola. You managed to achieve of job as a secretary in the Gear Station. Working directly under the Subway Bosses, you felt safe. It was highly unlikely that Guzma would ever find you, but extra protection never hurt.

● You grew close to Ingo, finding his caring nature something sweet. He would always worry about others yet disregard his own health. You took it upon yourself to help him along, bringing him lunches, lessening his load of paperwork, and nagging him when he clearly didn't get enough sleep. Naturally, Ingo couldn't resist the kindness you offered him. It wasn't long until you found yourself going on dates with him. Hesitantly, you started dating him, afraid that he may suddenly turn into whatever had become of Guzma.

● He never did. His love was patient and kind, keeping itself a soft touch and complete trust in you. Ingo was completely understanding when you explained what had happened in your past. His brows furrowed, and he gently took hold of your hand. “I promise you, my dear, that I would never do any such thing to you,” he stared adoringly into your eyes, “Should he even attempt to harm you again, I shall handle it to the best of my capabilities.” Your heart was overcome with affection to this seemingly perfect man.

● You had moved in with him soon into your relationship. Ingo was a wonderful boyfriend who showered you in affection and adoration. All you ever received were praises and declarations of love. It was so incredible to find yourself content with someone who respected your autonomy. Of course, Elesa, a dear friend of Ingo's and yours, decided to snap a photo of you and him handling another friend's baby. “I think a certain Subway Boss was baby fever🥰🥰🥰” was the caption, and it went viral almost instantly. Guzma spotted it. He was passed.

● It was terrifying as your arm was grabbed on your way to hand Emmet some important documents. The man of your nightmares stood before you, rage written across his face. “Babe… There you are. You had me worried sick,” he pulled you close to him, your body frozen in terror, “That bitchass guy you are with. All this work to make me jealous, huh? Big bad Guzma's gonna have to remind ya who you belong to.” You screamed. Pedestrians stopped around you and looked confused.  A few depot agents shouted demands for you to be let go of. Guzma growled, moving a hand to free his Golisopod.

● “Let them go!” A loud voice boomed across the station, making the delinquent flinch. It was just enough to get out of his grip and dip toward the person who had yelled. Ingo, your dear Ingo would save you. The Subway Boss's arms came around you as you buried your face into his neck, shaking in terror. Guzma stared at the scene with a growl. “I ain't giving up that easily!” He called out and tossed his Scizor. Ingo glared and tossed out his Chandelure, securing your safety behind him. This was a distraction until Emmet arrived.

● The battle was a furious one, Guzma desperately trying to defeat the older twin for a momentary chance at regaining you. You was his. Nothing more; nothing less. Ingo refused to give someone who caused you such pain a centimetre. Emmet rushes over and pulls you away, tucking you into their office with the door locked. “I have called the police. We will help you secure your safety,” Emmet explained, looking at his watch. “Are you hurt?” You shook your head. Tears welled in your eyes at the realisation you had such caring people around you. Emmet was pulled in for a long a hug. He wrapped his arms around you and cooed.

● Ingo emerged with a policeman soon after. You were dragged into an afternoon of testimonies and evidence of abuse before finally being released again back to Ingo. The older twin took off early to spend the rest of the day with you. In your apartment, gently embraced in his arms, you felt truly safe. Ingo would protect you just as he promised. You rubbed your nose against his and thanked him more than necessary. He kissed you gently and shook his head. “Never will I allow you to face such pain again,” his hand cupped your cheek, “I will always be here for you.”

▽Emmet△

○ Leon loved you dearly. That was why he locked you away in his Wyndon flat. His fans had harassed you one too many times, a guy had given you too much attention for his comfort, and he just couldn't stop worrying about you. It was safest for you to stay in the apartment. You could have visitors! His brother, Sonia and Raihan all came around somewhat regularly. No one questioned why you never went outside. Leon was never terrible to you, he was kind and loving, just too protective. It was one night, as you laid beside him, he began wondering if a family could be a good idea. It sent disgusting shivers down your spine. You escaped on a whim and left Galar without hesitation.

○ Nimbasa was an easy place to lose yourself in the crowd and forget everything. A job as a barista in a battle café proved a decent paying job that didn't bring much attention to you. News reports about the poor Galarian's missing partner echoing from different screens. You dedicated yourself to your job. A certain regular caught your attention easily. His skills as a trainer were impeccable, and there was only one time you had managed to beat him. Flirting with him, you discovered the was receptive.

○ Emmet was quick to take you on dates around the city, showing you all the fun spots. It was so different from your relationship with Leon that you found yourself entranced. Quickly, he became your boyfriend. His giggly and passionate nature was something you found adorable. He may act childish, but he knew when to be mature. Whatever had happened to Leon seemed impossible to happen with Emmet. You trusted yourself in his capable hands.

○ He did sit you down and carefully ask whether you were the missing partner of Leon. You became nervous, which Emmet immediately picked up on. His arms came around his, and he hushed you gently. Panicked tears fell from your eyes as you hiccuped loudly. You begged for him not to return you to him. Emmet shook his head. He would never. Especially not when it caused you to act like this. You tell the younger twin of what Leon had done to you. A deep sickness settled into his stomach. “Darling, I would never do vile things to you,” his chrome eyes carefully peered into your own, “If you worry about him hurting, I will keep you safe. I love you verrrry much!”

○ Naturally, Elesa took many photos of you two as she often accompanied you both during your outings. A specific date of you both eating some shaved ice on the beach of Undella during a weekend vacation was posted to her account. You had accidentally spilt your bright red ice all over Emmet's white swim trunks. You were aggressively trying to wipe it off, but it was far too late. A picture was snapped at an awkward moment, and she couldn't resist mocking you both. “What are they doing on the beach😨😨😨” was the caption for the post. Leon's fans instantly recognised you and tagged him over and over again. He was in tears at the sight of you. You were alive! Why had you left him? He knew that trainer you were with, too.

○ It was strange to have the champion of Galar barge into your small, local battle café while you served your boyfriend some requested bakewell tart. Leon stared at you with an open mouth before tears welled in his eyes. “Love… My love, you're alright! I was so worried for you! You just vanished one day…” he took careful steps toward you. Emmet hopped up from his chair and moved to intercept his path. The younger Subway Boss shook his head aggressively.

○ “No! You do not!” the younger twin shouted out, “I am Emmet, and I am their boyfriend. You will not cause them any more pain!” His arms were spread wide and a few Joltiks scurried from him to you, ready to help their adoptive father protect you. Elesa, who had been sitting with Emmet stood up. Leon flinched at his words. “W-what do you mean? They are my partner, before they left we were discussing children. That Charizard on their team is a gift from me!”

○ “Well, their Galvantula was a gift from me!” Emmet snapped, hand moving to his pokeball. Elesa intervened and cleared her throat. “Leon… You care dearly for your reputation, right?” she asked, strutting to block Emmet from tackling him, “Well, how would you feel if I uploaded a video of them and me talking about their relationship with you? Do you think Iris would like that? How about your brother? Please, just leave. They're happier here with Emmet. He loves them healthily, unlike you.” Leon flinched at the mention of his cousin and younger brother. His gold eyes travelled to you, seeing Emmet wrapping himself around you protectively, with an Eelektross standing guard close by. This was a rare loss from the champion. He left. He wasn't giving up, however. He needed a better location.

○ You nearly collapsed into Emmet's arms, weeping loudly. Your boss let you off early, and Emmet took off as well. Ingo was very understanding of the situation. The younger twin curled himself around you while all his pokemon were out and on alert. He knew this was far from over, and you knew it too. Though, as the warmth of his body settled into your own, you knew he would keep you safe. Emmet would never allow the same fate to befall you twice. Gentle kisses were peppered up your neck while he murmured loving phrases. “I will keep you safe,” he reassured you, “I won't let anyone ever lock you away like that again. I love you too much.”

[cjsinkythoughts]

It’s All in the Perspective

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4491

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Gun Violence, Minor Character Injury, A Peek at Angry Bucky, Explosions (if that’s a warning), Mentions of Stevie (I really miss him, guys)

A/N: So! Here it is! Part 4.3! After long hours of laboring and slaving away - kidding, kidding. I had a bit of trouble with this part, not gonna lie, because there’s a lot of feelings I wanted to try explaining. To do that, there’s a little sort of twist at the end that, once I decided to put in, made the chapter much smoother to write. I wasn’t happy with it at first, but now I’m satisfied.

There’s a lot of things happening in this one; it’s longer than I had anticipated because of the little snippet at the end I added. It’s got a few scene-for-scene things, but I kinda blew past it just to get to the characters’ emotions and stuff. Plus writing action like the shipping yard scene is hard when you’re not focusing entirely on that scene, which I wasn’t.

You’ll notice that the last little bit with Ayo (the Wakandan) isn’t in this. That’s because I couldn’t really find a way to fit it in and I’m assuming it will fit in better with next week’s episode.

Not beta’d, so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you wonderful people for reading and commenting! I enjoy hearing your opinions and what you like about the show and the series! Enjoy the final Part for Episode 3 and stay tuned for an announcement tomorrow about the One Shots I’ll be doing in relation to this series!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

You and Bucky kept sneaking glances at each other as you walked through the dock, weaving between the different colored shipping containers with Sharon leading the way. Every time you caught his eye, his ears turned red and he looked away, scanning your surroundings. Not that you were any better, immediately turning away when he turned your way.

You almost kissed him. Fuck. You couldn’t let that happen. He was your friend. Your teammate. He was the best friend to the man you fell in love with, who just so happened to be your best friend. Your best friend who left you. Your best friend who you promised you would watch out for Bucky. 

Bucky…who you also fell in love with. Whether or not it was because of Steve, the fact of the matter was: you loved him. You loved both of them. And you’d never loved anyone like that before. And one left. And the other was trying to navigate through his shitty life. And you weren’t any better. Which is why, you decided in that moment, that no matter how much you wanted to - and holy shit did you want to - you wouldn’t pursue. 

Yet. Maybe. Ugh! When did feelings become so complicated?!

When you started having them.

You silently grumbled to yourself, shaking your head clear. You had to focus and be in the moment. Now was not the time to sort out what to do about the suddenly rising emotions towards the cerulean eyed brunette currently burning with you with a gaze you refused to return.

“Alright.” Sharon stopped, making the group stop as well. “He’s in there. Container 4261. I’ll keep an eye out while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry; we’re on borrowed time.”

You each grabbed one of the earpieces she held in her palm, slipping it comfortably in your ear. “I’ll stay back with you.” Sharon went to talk, but you cut her off. “I’d feel better knowing it’s not just you out here.”

She pursed her lips, before nodding. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

“Doll-”

“I’ll be fine, Buck.” You insisted, checking your gun to make sure it was loaded. Bucky stayed quiet, nodding in begrudging acceptance.

You and Sharon headed off as the boys went towards the storage unit. “Just like old times, huh?” Sharon raised an eyebrow at you.

You grinned, shoving your gun in the thigh holster she let you borrow. “Let the good times roll, babe.”

“Absolutely.” Sharon winked, before you two split up to cover more ground. It wasn’t long before Sharon announced company and you took off sprinting in her direction.

You got to her just as more thugs approached her from behind, immediately lunging into action.

“Hey, so, we never finished that conversation!”

You grunted as you roundhouse kicked a guy, hooking your knee over his shoulder and pulling him to the ground by the neck “Really?! You wanna do that now?!”

“Sure! I’m not too busy!”

You rolled your eyes at her reply, seeing her knock a guy unconscious before she turned around to knee another one in the face. “What were we talking about?”

“Why’re you holding back?”

“It’s complicated!” You elbowed a guy in the ribs, flipping him over your shoulder and twisting his arm till a sickening crack sounded.

“Because of Steve?!”

“Yes - no! Kind of!” 

Sharon was on the floor choking a guy out as you slammed a guy’s head into a shipping container, pushing him at another guy. “You loved him didn’t you?! And I mean, like in love with him!”

“Who?!” You laced your fingers around the back of his head and brought his face down onto his knee.

“Director Fury!” You gave her a look which she snorted at. “Steve, you dumbass! Who else?!”

“Yeah! No shit I was in love with him!” You ran up the side of a storage unit to do a backflip and land on some guy’s shoulders, choking him out. Before he fell, you rolled off, tripping a guy in the process and elbowing his throat.

“Well at least you’re admitting it now!”

You were hit in the back of the head, thrown into a wrestle with another guy on the ground. You bit his hand, making him cry out, before you headbutted him. 

“You couldn’t even hear his name without having to remind people you were ‘just friends’!”

“We were just friends, Share! You know that!”

You heard her shoot of a gun a few times as you smacked someone in the back of the head with the butt of your gun, trying to save ammo. “You really never did anything about it?!”

“No!”

She glanced at you incredulously from across the way, bodies now littering the ground. “And you don’t regret that?”

“No.” You sighed at her look, relenting. “Yes. Kind of. I dunno. I mean…he’s happy with his decision, and for me that’s enough.”

“But doesn’t it hurt?”

“Of course it hurts. It hurts like hell. But-”

“But you still have him so it’s all good.”

You bit your lip, shrugging. “Something like that.”

Sharon tilted her head, confused. “So why don’t you tell him?”

“I dunno. I don’t think either of us is ready.”

“C’mon. I saw you two earlier. You should’ve just kissed him.”

Rolling your eyes, you frowned when you noticed something missing. “Ah shit. My ear piece. It must’ve fallen out earlier.” You looked around, but Sharon stopped you, nodding her head between a couple shipping containers. 

“Don’t worry about it. Mine broke a little while ago, too. Let’s go get the guys. Tell them we need to leave.”

You nodded and started running with her to the unit Nagel’s lab was in. You followed her around the corner, only to widen your eyes and shove her out of the way. Two gunshots rang out, Sharon catching the guy right between the eyes, while the man’s bullet grazed your shoulder.

“Ow, fuck.” You hissed, hand immediately going up to clamp your wound.

“Dammit! You shouldn’t have done that, you idiot!”

You gave her a look. “You’re welcome.”

Rolling her eyes, she quickly tore off part of your shirt. “Hey!”

“First off, this is my shirt. Second, I’m just making it more of a crop top. Third, it’s your own fault, so quit your whining.”

“Touchy touchy.” You grumbled, wincing when she tied it around your arm.

“Just come on. And hey,” she turned to you as she sprinted with your wrist in her hold. “My advice? Don’t wait. Seriously. I know it must be weird, the whole he’s his best friend, he was your best friend, now he’s your best friend, thing you’ve got going on, but there’s nothing else stopping you. Steve made his choice. And he’d be fine with whatever you choose as long as you’re happy.”

You shook your head. “But Bucky’s still healing-”

“So? He’s already been on dates. I think you’re just using that as an excuse to protect your heart from hurting again. Trust me; Barnes isn’t going anywhere.”

Not able to respond since you were making your way to the guys in Nagel’s lab, you bit your lip, hating that she got the last say in the conversation. She definitely planned it so she would. “We’re outta time, fellas.”

As if things couldn’t get worse Zemo - that fucking snake, you knew he was gonna do something stupid - took out a gun he got from who knows where. You sure as hell didn’t let him have a gun. Before you could stop him, he shot Nagel, your best, your only, lead.

“Goddammit!” You growled as Sam and Sharon restrained him. “You fucking-”

The explosion came next, again happening faster than you could react. Bucky grabbed you and pulled you underneath him, covering you with his body as glass and metal flew around you. With ringing ears, you groaned, squinting your eyes open.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You were vaguely aware of the alarms going off, a red light blinking behind Bucky’s head. You nodded, his worried eyes softening just slightly at your response. “We gotta get out-”

“I know, I know. C’mon.” He helped you up, eyes catching sight of the makeshift bandage on your arm. “Dammit, what did you do?”

“I’m fine.” You pushed his hands off. “Go help Sharon. We’ve gotta move. Now.” He huffed, but nodded and moved over to get Sharon. You tried to see where Zemo went through the smoke, but he was already gone.

You four made it just before the whole thing combusted due to the chemicals in the lab. So much for any evidence or leads.

The moment you got out, you were thrust into a gunfight, rolling your eyes as Bucky and Sam, once again, did their own thing.

“Are they always like this?”

“Usually it’s worse. Wait until they start arguing about who was right.” Sharon gave you an unamused look to which you nodded at, ducking when a bullet whizzed by you. “I know. It’s so annoying.”

Sure enough, when Bucky ran out of bullets, the bickering commenced, making you huff and Sharon shout at them. “Are they serious?”

You shot a few more bullets before your gun started clicking. “Dammit. Unfortunately.”

“I’m out!”

“Me too!”

Another explosion and a person you couldn’t see clearly through the haze caused a distraction for you guys to get away, Sam practically shoving you and Sharon into an open shipping container as Bucky took care of a couple more bounty hunters.

“What happened? Both of your comms went out.” Bucky growled once he came in behind you, grabbing your forearm to study your wound.

“It’s just a graze. Chill your ass down. I lost my earpiece and Sharon’s broke.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his voice low with warning. “What. Happened.”

“We rounded a corner, the guy was there. I shoved Sharon, he shot, she shot, I got hit, he’s now dead. Happy?”

“You promised.” He snapped, finger tightening on your arm. “You said you’d save yourself first.”

“Buck, let go.” Grabbing his wrist, you tugged a bit, wincing slightly. “Seriously. Stop. That hurts.”

He blinked, his features slacking and his fingers immediately dropping your arm. “Doll, I-I…fuck.” He turned to go punch through the back wall to get out of the unit you were in.

Before you could respond and tell him it was fine, the Baron himself drove up in a slick blue convertible. You groaned at Bucky’s response to Zemo. “We need him.” God, you were getting tired of hearing that.

“You’re lucky I don’t bash your head in.” You growled at him. 

“If you try that shit again-”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Sam raised an eyebrow when Bucky got into the passenger’s seat with no hesitation, looking at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but you shrugged and slipped into the back with Sam. Bucky and you always took the back seat. You had ever since the dumb little blue car Steve got.

You hugged Sharon in parting, knowing she couldn’t come with. “Hey.” She looked at you sternly. “Take a leap.”

“We’ll see.” You told her, sitting down and buckling.

“Do better than that, Y/L/N. And get me that pardon you promised me.” She told Sam, pointing at him..

“Thanks for everything.” She nodded, before jogging off in the opposite direction you’d be heading. Sam turned back to the front, an annoyed expression crossing his face. “You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?”

“No.”

You snickered as Sam shot you a glare, Zemo starting to drive the car out of the shipping yard, away from the chaos.

****************

You collapsed onto the seat in front of Bucky, leaning onto the knee he had propped up against the back. He glanced up at you, face blank, before looking back down at his metal hand he was cleaning.

“Here. Let me see-”

“I got it.” He grumbled, shifting away from where your hands reached for his.

Your eyes widened, stunned at his reaction. “Bucky, just let me-”

“I said no, Y/N.” Your name. Again. You can’t remember him calling you ‘doll’ since before the shipping yard explosion.

“Are you okay?” He merely grunted. You straightened off his leg, swatting his knees with the back of your hand. “Hey.”

He shifted again, planting his feet on the floor. “Stop.”

“No.”

He shot you a warning glare. “Y/N-”

“Stop calling me that.”

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“What is wrong with you?” You scrunched up your features in confusion and concern. “Is this about my arm? I told you it’s fine.” You got no response except his eye flickering to your now properly bandaged shoulder. “Why are you acting so weird?”

He shrugged. “I’m not.”

You scoffed in disbelief, jaw dropping. “You’re not.”

“Nope.”

“Fine.” You stood up, brushing your legs off, the bare skin having splotches and smears of dirt and dust. “If you wanna be like that, go ahead. Brood. Be a child. When you’re ready to talk to me about whatever the hell is bothering you, like an adult, I’ll be in the back room.”

You only took two steps before he called out for you. “Doll.” You turned around, an expectant look on your features as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one foot. He looked up at you nervously, before looking down and picking at the metal plates of his hand. “I got scared.”

Your features softened, your head tilting gently. “Scared?”

“When you stopped talking. You and Sharon…you were talking. But both of your comms went down around the same time and I…it scared me. I-I don’t get scared anymore. Not the way I did when your voice stopped. I didn’t mean to hurt you…” His voice got quieter at the last sentence, his eyes looking to the purple handprint on your forearm.

“It was an accident, Buck.” You reassured him, settling back down in front of him. “It’s fine. You were still reeling it in from the bar. I know it’s hard for you to judge your strength like that. Steve had problems like that too.” You looked down at the rag he was holding, putting your hand out.

He licked his lips, before handing you the rag. You got off the couch to shift so you were sitting between his legs, his chest to your back. Holding his metallic hand between both of yours, you set to work, gingerly wiping away the grime, picking at the filth that wedged itself between the plates.

“He,” you chuckled, shaking your head at the moment you were remembering. “He accidentally gave me a concussion once when we were sparring. At first it was awesome; he got me my favorite take out and took me to the movies and all that. But then he just started getting annoying. Wouldn’t even let me reach for the TV remote on the coffee table a yard away.”

“Can I ask you something?” You hummed, tilting your head slightly when you felt his chin hooking on your shoulder, giving him more room. “How long did you love him?”

Freezing, you raised an eyebrow and turned to face him. “What?”

“You and Sharon. When you were talking…your comms were on.”

“How-” You swallowed thickly, a lump suddenly forming in the back of your throat. “How much did you hear?”

“Yours went out right after you admitted you were in love with him. Hers went out after you said you were just friends.”

Holding in a sigh of relief, you went back to cleaning his hand. “I don’t really know exactly when it happened. After the Battle of New York, maybe. So 2012, I guess? I dunno. I was getting up from falling for him, though. A few years later.”

“Was?”

“I - yeah. I kind of…fell again.”

He hummed, leaning back, taking his chin off your shoulder and unwinding his arm from your waist. “He’s an easy person to fall for. Hell, I’m pretty sure I had a crush on him once upon a time.”

You chuckled at that, raising an eyebrow over your shoulder at him. “I never said I fell for him again. But, yeah. You’re right.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “You like someone else?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“Oh…” He cleared his throat as you went back to his hand. “Uh…so you don’t still love him? Steve, I mean?”

“He was the first person I really loved, Bucky. A part of me will always love him.”

Bucky fingers twitched in your hold, the fingers on his other hand tapping against his thigh. “You know…he loved you too.”

You sighed, closing your eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“It’s true-”

“He left, James. If he loved me, why would he leave?”

You could feel his hesitation as his next words left his lips. “I-I dunno.” That was a lie. You could hear it in his voice. If there was one person Steve trusted more than you, it was Bucky. Of course he knew.

“Listen, I really don’t want to talk about this-”

“It’s in the notebook.” You bit your lip as Bucky shifted, pulling out the little notebook from his pocket. “He made lists - he liked lists. He made lists of things you said that made him laugh. Songs that reminded him of you. Little quirks you do that he noticed over the years. He missed you every time you went on a mission and prayed you’d get back safely.”

“James, please-”

“He didn’t want me to let you know. But I had to tell you. You have to know. He loved you.”

You let out a shaky breath as he placed the book on your thigh. You stared at it for a moment, before grabbing it and placing it in his left hand, closing his fingers around it and standing up. “I think…I’m gonna go rest for a bit in the back room. Holler if you need me.”

You didn’t wait for a response, moving quickly to the small back room of the plane which you got dressed in only a couple days ago. It only had one arm chair and instead of a door there was a curtain, but you were fine with that, plopping down in the chair and reclining.

Why? Why would he bring that up? Did he hear more than he said? Was he trying to let you down easy before you could even tell him how you felt? Did he get spooked after dancing? After the almost-kiss?

You never thought of Steve in the wrong. After all he’d done for the world in his life, he deserved to be selfish - to be happy. And Peggy gave him that. But why? Why would he leave if he loved you so dearly? If he really did what Bucky said? He wouldn’t. He’s not cruel. He wouldn’t up and leave, without even saying goodbye, knowing how deeply you loved him and feeling the same about you. This was Steven Grant Rogers for crying out loud! He wouldn’t…right?

But Bucky…he wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t tell you that, especially knowing how much you missed the lovable blonde. And you knew his words held at least some truth. Actions spoke louder than words, and as something Bucky said repeated itself in your mind, you started slipping into a memory, your eyes shutting and your breaths evening out.

“He missed you every time you went on a mission and prayed you’d get back safely.”

~

The incessant knocking made you groan, shouting that you were coming and mumbling curses. You barely threw open the door before his worried voice hit your ears. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

“Stevie.” You sighed, rubbing your eyes and looking over at the clock on the wall. “Bubs…it’s two in the morning. I just got back, like, an hour ago.”

He shuffled, pink lips in a pout, eyes round and distressed. “I know, honey. I know. I’m sorry. But I heard you got hurt-”

You shook your head, a small giggle of amusement leaving your lips and you lifted your right hand, letting him see the black split holding your ring and pinky fingers. “I jammed my fingers in a door. The doc said I’ll be fully healed in a month at most.”

His eyes darted across your face and down your body, scanning for any more injuries. After glancing at your hands again, they finally landed on your eyes once more. Next thing you knew, you were being held against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck. You hummed softly, running your fingers down his spine, moving the two of you deeper into your apartment so you could shut the door.

“Don’t ever do that again. I gotta have faith in something and if you come home hurt, it’ll be crushed.”

Your eyebrows knit together. At his strange wording. “What’s that mean?”

“It means you have to promise me you’ll stay safe, honey.” He pulled back and held your face between his hands. “Please.”

“I can promise I’ll try my best.” You teased lightly, smiling at him and booping his nose, making him grin, although it was strained. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? We’ll turn on some TV in my room and you can keep me safe while I get much needed sleep.”

That made his grin relax into a real one, his head nodding in agreement. “Sounds perfect.”

“C’mon, bubs.” You took his hand, leading him to your room. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and you’ll catch some zzzz’s too.”

~

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

“What the hell was that?”

Bucky turned to Sam, who was gaping at him in utter disbelief, looking from the assassin to the doorway Y/N just walked through. “She needed to know.”

“Buck, she’s been dealing with some shit. And we both know something’s going on that she isn’t telling us. Her “zoning out” isn’t just zoning out, and we know that. She doesn’t need you confusing her even more.”

“Confusing her?”

Sam blinked, his troubled expression falling into a deadpan. “Are you fucking with me? No. There’s no way you’re that naive. Seriously?! Man, c’mon!”

Bucky scrunched up his face. “What?”

“She likes you, man! Everyone knows it!”

The brunette shook his head, forehead creased. “No. No, you heard her, Sam. She’s in love with Steve.”

“Was in love. As in past tense.”

“But-but she said- she likes someone else-”

“Barnes!” Sam threw his hands up, exasperated. “You are someone else!”

“I thought you two were already-”

Bucky pointed warningly at Zemo. “Watch it. Wait, wait-” He turned back to Sam. “But I heard her-”

“Bucky…man…” Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Listen, I can’t tell you everything. I’m not about to break my girl’s trust like that. But you gotta hear me when I tell you she likes you. What do you think almost happened at the party?”

“She - I - it was…an accident?”

Sam spluttered, eyes wide. “An accident? You two grinding and nearly making out was an accident?!”

“Woah! We were not…grinding-”

Zemo hummed. “Hmm…you kind of were.”

Bucky glared at him. “Thin. Fucking. Ice.” He whipped back to Sam. “I just remind her of him.”

“What?! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! You remind her of Steve? Yes, granted your both dumbasses, but she knows both of you enough to know there’s quite a few big differences.”

“Wilson-”

Sam held up his hand, shutting Bucky up. “You like her. Yes or no.”

Bucky huffed, looking down at the hand she was holding only minutes ago. “Yes.” He finally relented. “Since the first couple months in Wakanda.”

“Steve liked her. Yes or no.”

He ran a hand through his hair, nodding his head. “Yes. Yes he liked her. I wasn’t lying about that.”

“So explain something to me.” Sam crossed his arms. “Why is it that Steve isn’t here, and you are?”

Bucky crossed his arms, brooding - although he’d never admit it - while staring out the window. “Steve…knew. I liked her. And, yes, he loved her, but he also loved Peggy. So he…”

“He told you to take your chance with Y/N, and he went back to be with his first love.”

HYDRA’s former fist nodded with a sigh. “Something like that.”

“You need to tell her.”

“I can’t.”

Sam groaned. “Why not?!”

“Because!” Bucky took a breath, trying not to shout and alert the sleeping girl in the room over, his ears tuning into her slowed heartbeat to make sure she was okay. “Because Steve has her heart, Sam. The whole thing just…I’m jealous of him. Because he got her first. And then I get mad because he didn’t do shit about it. And then I feel guilty because all the shit he put up with for me and here I am complaining…and then I just get…depressed because he’s not here. I used to be the one who fixed his problems. But after I got out…he’s been the one fixing mine. And I just…I don’t know what to do.”

Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I get it. That’s valid. But stop whining and moping around about it. It happened. And you need to get your shit together. If not for your sake, for hers. Because she lost him too. And she’s probably feeling those exact same feelings.”

“But…she’s his girl-”

“No. She’s not. He made his choice.” Sam nodded towards Bucky. “Now you gotta make yours,  Buckaroo.”

He shot him a glare. “You can’t call me that.”

“Why not? Y/N calls you that.”

“Y/N has a plan.”

“We both know that’s not true, Buckaroo. Hey! That one rhymed!”

Bucky shook his head with a scowl. “I will beat your ass, Wilson.”

Sam scoffed, shoving Bucky’s head playfully. “Stop being a dumbass and tell her. Buckaroo.”

“That’s it!”

Bucky tackled Sam to the ground, Zemo giving them an amused expression before leaving to talk to Oeznik. They were so wrapped up in their wrestling session, they didn’t notice the woman leaning against the wall, tired eyes barely opened as her eyebrows raised, unimpressed.

“Are you fellas done?’

They both stopped, shooting up when they noticed her. “Doll, I-”

She shook her head. “Don’t, Buck. Not right now. I’m just really tired.”

“Did we wake you?” Sam winced.

She shook her head again, yawning. “No. I just needed to use the restroom.”

Bucky couldn’t help the small smile as she rubbed her eyes, stretching her arms overhead, making that ripped crop top ride higher up. She was too cute. And she didn’t even realize it.

“Sleep well, doll. We’ll try to keep it down.”

She nodded, turning and waving over her shoulder. “You two try getting sleep, too, alright? Goodnight, Sammy.”

“Night, cher.”

“Sweetheart?” She peeked through the curtain, tilting her head slightly. “You know I love you, right?”

A small smile quirked up her lips, but it was sadder than the ones his question usually elicited. “As long as you know I love you.”

He nodded, returning the half-smile. “G’night, doll.”

“Goodnight, Buckaroo.”

[subspencer]

the to-do list

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is worried that she’s not adventurous enough in bed. So, she makes a secret checklist of things to try with Spencer. Based on this request.

Category: Smut, 18+ ONLY, minors dni

Warnings/Includes: switch!Spencer, (sort of?) corruption kink, exhibitionism, mile high club, brief description of oral, unprotected sex, creampie, brief mentions of other stuff but no descriptions

Word Count: 3k

Spencer’s girlfriend has a secret checklist. It could be called a bucket list, of some sort, but really all of the items on it pertain to sexual acts to perform with Spencer, on Spencer, or in front of Spencer. So checklist is a more appropriate term.

The list came into existence after a girl’s night game of Never Have I Ever, in which she discovered there was an embarrassing number of things she’d never done. Some of them seemed nearly impossible to have gone twenty-something years without doing, especially when in a committed relationship. That was made abundantly clear to her when the girls pointed it out, teasing her — and by association, Spencer — for being more than vanilla.

There was no real reason she hadn’t tried those certain things — she wasn’t adverse to the idea of most of them at all. Really, it was just that she never bothered to dip her toes beyond what was familiar.

When Emily, Penelope, and Tara had nearly all ten of their fingers down after a couple rounds, she finally realized she might’ve been coming up short in the sex department. She figured it was about time to find out what she’s missing, so she made a list of everything she needed to try. And one by one, she and Spencer checked the items off.

One of the more simple things on the list, and perhaps her favorite, was giving her first blowjob. It wasn’t something she felt compelled to try with any of the guys she’s been with before, and Spencer, though he was very curious about it, was too much of a gentleman to ask for one.

So when she asked him to sit on the edge of his bed and dropped to her knees in front of him, he didn’t stop to ask questions. His mind went blank the second her fingers undid his zipper. It was Spencer’s first, too, and his fingers knotted in her hair as she took him in as deep as she could, hollowing her cheeks around his cock and swirling her tongue as her head bobbed up and down. Spencer always made pretty sounds in bed, but in this instance she envied his memory because she wished she could replay his moans and gasps from that first blowjob all over again in her mind.

Another favorite was allowing the favor to be reciprocated until completion. She figured she might just be someone who couldn’t get off from oral, because though she always welcomed Spencer to go down, she got impatient every time and pulled his head up by his hair, demanding him to fuck her already. Spencer was one to oblige every request, but he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t overjoyed when one time she never stopped him short.

There were no interruptions, no hands shoving his face away from its rightful place against her, just increasing moans and shaking legs as Spencer was encouraged to give more. She can still remember the half-moon shapes his nails left on her thighs from where he had to grip them so tightly as she rode out her high. And she definitely remembers the almost feral look in his eyes after, because since that first time he insists on doing it again nearly every day.

There were more or less a dozen other items that slowly but surely got ticked off the list.

Handcuffs in the bedroom — fun, but perhaps better saved for special occasions. Or if Spencer was being extra good and deserved a treat.

Various new positions — a reminder to stretch more. And that sixty-nine is not as easy as it sounds on paper.

She let Spencer put a blindfold on her — it was decided they both prefer it more when the blindfold is on him. It keeps him guessing.

Spanking — both of them like this one, either giving or receiving. Surprisingly, she thinks she might like receiving it a little more, and Spencer is always excited to give.

Shower sex — a bit of a logistical nightmare, yet still a weekly staple. It’s slippery, yes, but it’s also relaxing and intimate. And Spencer just enjoys putting his hands on her wet, soapy body.

Sending dirty texts — great, but Spencer prefers taking nude polaroids of her instead. He keeps a few in his wallet for easy access. And because he knows Garcia can’t hack his wallet and find them.

And there were more items that went in the same tune until there was just one left. The one she was most nervous to attempt.

She wondered if joining the mile high club was better or worse if it was on the BAU jet. They’d have ample opportunities to do it, but they’d also be surrounded by their colleagues, and there is no coming back from getting caught.

But the main challenge was convincing Spencer to do it in the first place.

The initial plan of attack was to drop some “subtle” hints. She brought it up for the first time one night in their shared hotel room, right after Spencer fucked her against the bathroom counter, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“We could totally do that in the jet bathroom.”

“Yeah, I guess the basics are the same. Cramped space and a ledge to lean on.” Spencer was completely aloof as he picked up the scattered articles of clothing from the floor, rattling off about the size and dimensions of the airplane bathroom and missing the entire point of the comment.

She mentioned it again a little later, hoping the repetition may help him catch the drift.

“What’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?” she asked, completely catching him off guard as he ate a breakfast of frosted flakes in his kitchen.

“Um.. I don’t know? You tell me,” he shrugged, knowing that whatever the craziest place was, it was definitely with her.

“What about doing it on the jet?” It couldn’t get more obvious.

“We haven’t done that, silly. OH! I’m gonna say it was in my car,” he nodded with a wide grin, confident in his answer that unfortunately brushed past the proposition far too quickly.

It was time to change methods.

The new plan was to see if she could get him turned on enough on the jet to motivate him to do something about it right then and there. It seemed easy enough.

She sat next to him on the small couch, as she always did, and cuddled up to his side as he read his book.

Once everyone was distracted, she snaked a hand onto his thigh, allowing it to rest there long enough for Spencer to get over his initial shock and relax into her touch. As soon as he let his guard down, she moved her hand up another inch or two, watching him squirm again as he fought his mind from wandering. She repeated that cycle every five minutes until it drove him insane, his willpower diminishing in tandem with the proximity of her hand.

When everyone finally fell asleep, she craned her head to press small kisses on his neck, alternating between quick pecks and lingering ones, sucking warm and wet little flecks onto his skin that drew soft sighs without fail.

“What are you doing?” his breath was raspy and low as he muttered into her ear.

“Nothing.” She kept her tone innocent and sweet as she continued to sprinkle the teasing kisses across the column of his throat.

Her hand finally found its way directly on top of the bulge straining against his slacks and gave it a gentle squeeze. Spencer grinded himself into her palm, desperate to feel some friction, his jaw slacked and pupils wide. She dragged a thumb across his length, stopping to rub slow circles over the sensitive tip, drawing out a wet spot at the front of his trousers.

But even with his skin flushed red and his cock leaking and half-near orgasm, Spencer still found the restraint to stop her from jerking him off right on the jet and ripped her hand away, placing it in her lap as if the action could permanently force her to keep her hands to herself.

“I can’t go to the crime scene with cum in my pants,” he hissed, squeezing her wrist tighter.

She smirked at the opportunity, wrapping her warm lips around his ear lobe and tugging with her teeth before whispering with hot breath. “Then put it in me.”

For a second she saw him consider it. His eyes had a dark cast, gaze flickering between her eyes and lips as he swallowed the thick lump in his throat. But then Emily woke up and it was yet another failed attempt.

She resigned to the fact that it just wouldn’t happen, and that the item might remain unchecked on the secret list. So she cleared the idea from her mind, not wanting to keep pushing Spencer toward something he clearly didn’t have an interest in, or to keep embarrassing herself by trying.

And then a couple weeks later, as the team wrapped another case up, she came back to their hotel room to find Spencer sitting on the bed, facing away from the door.

“Hey, baby,” she greeted. When Spencer didn’t respond, she crawled onto the bed behind him, placing both hands on his shoulders and attacking the side of his face with kisses, giggling into his messy curls. “I said hey.”

Still nothing. Her eyes followed his line of sight down to his hands and went wide with realization.

“Spencer, where did you get that!?” She tried to snatch the crumpled piece of paper from him, but he was too quick to pull it away.

“I was looking for gum in your purse,” he explained, reading the sheet over again in complete amusement, “but I found something better.”

Spencer was much too excited about it, bordering on smug, and she rolled off the bed away from him in annoyance.

“Is this what I think it is?” She remained silent, suddenly feeling very insecure about the note. “Did you... did you make a list of things to do in bed?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that, it’s so stupid.”

“Hey, who said it’s stupid?” He tugged on her fingers, pulling her back onto the bed next to him. “I just wanna know where it came from.”

“Well... when I went out with the girls, we started talking about all the things we’ve done…” she paused to see if Spencer could guess where this was going, and of course he didn’t, “... in bed. And I hadn’t even done half of what they have, so I wrote some of them down. I — I wanted to try them with you.”

“So you… you’ve never done these with anyone else?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he pieced the puzzle together. He looked down again at the discarded sheet laying on pillows, his pride swelling at how long the list was. “I’m the first?”

She nodded in assent and no sooner was Spencer pushing her back flat against the mattress, settling his body on top of hers.

“God, that’s so hot,” he spoke into her neck as he sucked purple bruises into it, allowing his hands to roam freely under her shirt. His nimble fingers made quick work of her bra clasp, pulling the hem of the top up to attach his lips to her exposed nipple. He rolled the other in his fingers, tugging gently as she arched into his touch, rolling her hips up to grind against his. He groaned and pushed back, nestling himself perfectly between her legs.

Suddenly his motions halted and he popped his head up, looking at her with wide eyes and freshly ruffled hair. “We haven’t finished the list yet!”

“I — I didn’t think you were interested in the last one.”

“If my girlfriend makes a list of ways she wants to fuck me, I’m interested.”

A devilish grin took over her face. “Well, we fly home tomorrow.”

And true to the plan, they arrived on the jet the next day with at least a vague sense of strategy: wait until everyone is asleep then go at it in the bathroom. It wasn’t the most elaborate of plans, but there wasn’t much else to think of.

Except for the possibility that the others might not go to sleep.

The flight was already halfway through its journey and everyone was still wide awake, and Spencer was growing incredibly impatient. Perhaps even more than his girlfriend, now that he knew this would be part of a long list of things he got to be her first for.

That fact seemed to encourage him, the thrill of forever being her first at something. Never mind that she’d be his firsts, too.

Spencer’s not stupid, he knows that bending her over the bathroom counter while everyone is awake to hear it is a horrible idea. But his willpower doesn’t extend far enough to stop him from dropping his hand to her exposed knee, rubbing it softly just to be able to touch her. It seemed innocent enough in case anyone might see.

He kept his eyes on the open book he was pretending to read as his fingers traced the inside of her thigh, pushing up the hem of her skirt ever so slightly.

He inched his hand up and slowly spread his long fingers apart until they covered the length of her inner thigh. The tips stopping just below her cunt, delicately tracing lines back and forth parallel to the seam of her underwear.

And she quickly discovers there’s no taste worse than your own medicine. There was gentle brushes and concealed touches, all the things that she did to him. But where Spencer would’ve stopped her teasing before it got too far, she wouldn’t have done the same.

She covered up his hands by bringing her own down to her lap, silently encouraging him to continue unseen.

Spencer looked down at her through his thick lashes, bottom lip stuck between his teeth. Looking for more confirmation that she wanted this. The answer came in the form of her shifting subtly down the seat, pressing her clothed pussy firmly against his hand.

His cock twitched against the confines of his slacks when he felt the damp patch on the fabric. His knuckles brushed against her clit and her knees clamped shut, holding him in place as she brought her lips close to his ear to let him hear her soft whines.

He has to put his book over his lap to cover how hard he is, and it almost makes him regret starting this game. Almost.

Because just as she starts desperately grinding against his hand, squirming for more friction, he notices that everyone’s asleep. And then it’s a race to the bathroom, Spencer positioning her directly in front of him to cover his bulge as they stand up.

Their mouths are on each other before the door even closes, her hands wasting little time in going for his zipper. Both desperate to have each other after all the anticipation. She immediately perched herself on the countertop, spreading her legs wide so Spencer could fit in between them, just like in that hotel room. A confused whine fell from her mouth when he lifted her off from the ledge, interrupting her plan.

“No. Like this,” he growled, turning her around and pushing her hips against the edge of the counter, bending her over it. She muttered a “Fuck,” under her breath as he pressed his cock against her backside, knowing he preferred this angle because he could get deeper.

His lips trailed down her neck as he tugged the skirt up to her hips and pulled her panties to the side, running his cock along her folds to gather the wetness that had been pooling there.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet.”

He quickly inserted his thumb into her mouth to stop any sounds from escaping before lining himself up. Her moans vibrated against the digit as he slowly pushed in, stretching her out and letting her adjust before starting to move. Slowly and deliberately, at first, then quickly gaining speed.

She pushed her hips back to meet his thrusts until he pinned them against the ledge with his own, holding them still so he could set his pace faster.

The hand that was resting on her waist came up to her chest, groping at the flesh over her blouse. Her spine arched into his palm, bending forward to give him more leverage to get deeper to that spot inside her repeatedly.

He alternated between a few quick thrusts followed by a deep one, holding himself there for a moment before repeating.

Her cunt tightened around him as he held still against her, applying firm pressure to her spot with the head of his cock.

“Fuck, do that again, please,” he grunted against her neck, pushing his hips into her ass with bruising force to get impossibly closer. A loud whine nearly escaped her lips as he did so, the motion sending her over the edge.

She sucked harder around his thumb, using it to keep her cries at bay as she reached her climax. Her walls fluttered around him as she did, giving him exactly what he needed.

“Remember what you said before, baby?” he hummed in her ear, “Do you still want me to cum inside you?”

“Please.”

Immediately his thrusts became erratic, hips snapping forward a handful of times before he spilled into her in hot spurts, biting down on her shoulder to stifle his moan as he came.

Still heaving from the comedown, he pulled her panties back on, using the fabric to keep his cum from spilling out.

She turned to feverishly attach her lips to his, panting into the open mouthed kiss. When they finally broke apart, both looked completely wrecked with swollen lips, flushed skin, bruised necks. Still, they tried their best to fix themselves, straightening out their rustled clothes and smoothing knotted hair.

Before Spencer turned the door handle, he pulled her side into him, pressing a kiss onto her forehead. “We should make another list.”

.

.

.

taglist: @suburban--gothic @ssa-sarahsunshine @mercy-burning @reidspurple @mediocre-writer @honeyboysteezy @ssa-m-187 @calm-and-doctor @drayshadow @s1utformgg @you-sunshine @altsvu @reidtheprettyboy @goose-eats-god @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @amoeebaa @reidingmelodies

[sserpente]

Raw Desire

Synopsis: Something is wrong with him. Something none of the Avengers, including Thor, understand. When Loki turns into his Jötun form unwillingly and begins to act in a very primal and aggressive way, their solution for the problem is to lock him up in a cell below the compound until it’s all over. It’s a disease, perhaps, one which only Frost Giants can develop. Only Loki is not sick. Loki is in heat--and his Jötun body will not rest until his most carnal desires have been satisfied...

Words: 9176 Warnings: Jötun!Loki, smut, fluff, symptoms of addiction

A/N: You wanted some Jötun!Loki, I wanted some Jötun!Loki... so here we go. Enjoy, everyone! 😏

Additional NSFW Warnings: breeding kink (a little bit, anyway), Loki is in heat (kind of, duh), lack of aftercare (at first...)

-

His antagonising scream tore through the entire compound. You flinched, alarmed. Loki. The heart-breaking sound of pain tugging at your nerves was followed by a loud thump—like a heavy metal door falling shut, locked for good. It had come from the cellar, where the Avengers stored weaponry and ammunition; along with provisory but secure prison cells of Wakandan technology for criminals until they could be handed over to the authorities.

When you reached the source of the rousing noise, you almost knocked straight into Thor. His muscly back resembled a thick fleshy wall that would break your bones if you collided with him with too much force and speed.

“What happened?” Out of breath, you moved around him—facing the culprit of the commotion. The eerie flickering camera right outside the cell door showed Loki knocking his fists repeatedly against the metal door. His knuckles were already bloody from the repeated impact, yet the door would not budge. Much more concerning, however, was his appearance. Loki’s skin—every inch revealed to the naked eye anyway—was blue, his otherwise enchanting blue eyes sparkling with mischief of a deep blood-red. Countless, unique and fleshy lines formed a complex pattern on his arms and the back of his hands, even his face and neck. Your lips parted, both in shock and surprise at what your eyesight had revealed to you.

“He’s losing his fucking mind.” Tony responded for Thor before the Thunderer could even open his mouth in defence. He came tramping into the room as mad as you had never experienced him, tapping away on a tablet in the process. “I told you it was bad idea to bring him back here, Point Break! What were you thinking?”

“Can anybody tell me what is going on?! Why is he… like this? Is he in pain?”

“In pain?! He almost killed Nat. If Wanda hadn’t interfered…” Tony did not finish the sentence—regardless, the threat of what consequences there would have been for the God of Mischief was clearly audible.

“This was unlike him. He had no reason to…”

“No? He pounced on her like a… like a…”

“Beast?” Bruce added matter-of-factly. His hands were in his pocket when he approached the scene and patted Thor on the back in an attempt of providing comfort.

“Maybe… maybe this isn’t his fault, Stark. I know my brother, he’s never acted like this before!” The God of Thunder roared in defence, his arms crossed.

“Yeah,” Tony retorted sarcastically. “You know your brother so well he even tried to kill us all. Three times. No. This man is evil. Look at him!”

Petrified, you risked another peek. Loki was downright animalistic, his fists still working the metal cell door. He was getting weaker, worn out—like the fire in his red eyes was slowly being extinguished to make way for weariness. There was something primal in his behaviour; something raw. You would be ignorant to deny it scared you.

“Tony,” you began, forcing your voice to cease the shaking, “What happened? Why did he attack Natasha? Was he hurt?” Your sudden concern for him was going to give you away. No, not sudden. It had always been there, hidden just beneath the surface of your heart. You had only kept it a secret because… because what?

Loki did not know you had been harbouring romantic feelings for him for a significant amount of time now. Dark, tall and mysterious, he matched not only your type but had hopelessly captured you with his melancholic and lonely nature, the grief in his stunning blue eyes. You refused to believe that Loki was evil, that he had ever truly wanted to harm his brother; and you were desperate to be his friend… and even more than that. But the God of Mischief had hidden his heart behind such a hard shell that you were worried you might never get him to open up to you.

You would by no means describe yourself as an altruistic person—but there was a both enamoured and depraved part of you which desired, longed, for him to like you back.

“Talk to me.” You stated, tilting your head when he flung his dagger at one of the battered punching bags in the training room.

“What?” He sounded almost scornful when he spun around to gift you an incredulous look.

“Talk to me, Loki. I want to know what’s going on in your mind. I thought I was… you are always so distant. You disappear in here every other night, you snap at everyone trying to speak to you. You look nervous, like something is trying to break out of you.” Like you are trying to get rid of monstrous amounts of bottled up energy, you added silently. “You seem so restless. What’s wrong?”

“What concern is that of yours?” He spat.

“See! That is exactly what I meant.”

Loki growled. “What do you want from me, (Y/N)?” You flinched when he used your full name as opposed to the nickname everyone called you by.

“Why? Why are you screaming at me, I’m just trying to help! Don’t you get it, Loki? I care about you. And I care about what you think, even if I am probably the only one in this bloody compound who does.” Now that was unfair. But it was also the truth. “Why are you pushing me away? Let me in…”

Desperately, you moved forward in an attempt to reach up and cup his face, only for him to grab your wrists and pull them away harshly.

“Let you in? All I have ever received in return for ‘letting someone in’ was hurt and hatred. Give me one good reason for why I should open up to you,” he mocked, releasing your hands as if they would burn his fingers if they lingered on your skin for too long. “Tell you about my sorrows.” Sorrows. He had sorrows.

“I am not them.” You simply said. “Not any of them. I am not Odin, not Thor, none of the Avengers.”

Blinking, you snapped out of your memory. You had had this tragic conversation only two nights ago. No matter what you had said, he would not tell you what was on his mind. Now you knew.

“Something is wrong with him.” You interrupted the discussion, one you had not paid any attention to, by silencing them with a loud and determined voice.

“You don’t say?”

“No, Tony, you don’t understand… Loki is… he is Jötun. Thor, has he ever voluntarily turned into his Jötun form?”

The God of Thunder thought about it for a moment—then, he shook his head. “No.” You gave him a meaningful look. “So… you think it has something to do with his species?”

You nodded slowly and swallowed.

“Then we keep him in here until he is better.” He concluded. Your eyes widened.

“What? Thor, no… you can’t keep him locked up in there! What if he doesn’t get better on his own? Are you going to incarcerate him forever?”

“That would be an improvement.” Tony tossed in bitterly.

“We have to help him.”

“We? (Y/N)…” Bruce remarked almost tauntingly.

“You’ll find us upstairs. We need to let the others know about… whatever this is.” Tony added. You gnashed your teeth when he and Bruce turned to leave. For an awkward moment, it was eerily still—right until another one of Loki’s screams tore through the uncomfortable silence. You flinched once more. He was howling in pain.

“You think it might be a disease only Frost Giants can get?” Thor asked with concern in his deep voice at last.

You shrugged apologetically. “Maybe…”

“Loki and I were going to return to Asgard next week. I shall ask around, one of the healers should be familiar with Jötun diseases.”

“Go as soon as you can. Your brother is in pain, Thor, can’t you hear that?”

The God of Thunder nodded absentmindedly. But if no one was going to do something about Loki’s suffering—whatever it was—immediately, you would do it alone. So you did what Loki would do first. You dug up his books.

-

Loki’s room was neat, tidy. The green bed had been made—there was not a single wrinkle in the fabric and the desk was all clean, not giving thin layers of dust only visible in the direct sunlight a chance. The books he had brought from Asgard, old, thick, yellowed and heavy, he had stored on a bookshelf higher than you could reach.

Sucking in a determined breath, you moved the desk chair in front of it. The polished wooden floor to your feet complained with an ear-piercing shriek as you did. Determined, you climbed up to study the titles. All of them were written in Nordic Runes, making you realise that your research would end up being a lot harder than you had initially assumed. You could not speak a word of Old Norse, let alone read those Runes. Never mind that… you needed answers—and Loki needed your help.

It took you two hours to go through the titles and have them translated via a website you had had to pay for (using Tony’s credit card details—desperate times called for desperate measures) to use its allegedly reliable services.

Then, finally, after what felt like half an eternity, you found a suitable page-turner. It was titled Mythical Creatures and Species across Yggdrasil—at least, that was what the website you used told you.

Eagerly, you opened the book searching frantically for the chapter on Frost Giants and began sucking up all the information you could get. The more you read… and the more you compared Loki’s symptoms to the described behaviour of Jötuns in the book, the more aghast you became. One thing was for sure. Loki was not sick. Loki was aroused.

Terror-stricken, you bookmarked the page, grabbed your phone and jumped to your feet, abandoning the pile of books on Loki’s floor. You needed to speak to Thor right now.

He was about to enter the bathroom when you found him, once again almost knocking into his broad form.

“I… I found something.” You choked out.

“What?”

“I found something… about Loki. Thor… he is not ill, not really, he is…” Biting your lower lip, you pushed the God of Thunder into the bathroom, shut the door behind you and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. “He is… aroused.”

“What?” He roared, blushing. “What do you mean he is aroused?”

“Look… I found this book, I…”

“You speak Old Norse?”

“No! I used… I used a translator. Thor, listen, please. It says here that to ensure their continued existence, male Frost Giants, every one-thousand years, experience the primal urge to copulate with females of their kind. Much like wolves or elves, this ‘heat’ usually begins with restlessness, extremely aggressive and possessive behaviour, unusual amounts of pent-up energy as well as an extreme hunger and loss of appetite at the very same time. Loki hasn’t showed up for lunch, dinner or breakfast and… he has been spending extraordinary times in the training room downstairs in the middle of the night lately. He barely sleeps, it seems.”

“Go on…”

“How old is Loki, Thor?”

“He is a little over one-thousand years… old.” He looked up in shock when he realised.

“That’s why he is in his Jötun form, Thor. He can’t control it, it’s not his fault, it’s… in his nature. God…” You had read it all, yet you were still working on processing it.

“This… it would explain why he tried to attack Nat. So… he is not in danger then?” Thor probed.

“No, not necessarily but—“

“So we can just wait until it is over.”

You frowned. “Until what is over?”

“His heat! If what you are saying is true and Loki’s behaviour derives from his heritage… if he cannot control his reactions, we have to keep him locked up and wait. We can’t have him ravish all the females in the compound.”

“But… he is in pain.”

An urgent knock on the bathroom door interrupted you.

“Hey, are you having a soap party in there? Other people need to use the bathroom too!” Closing the heavy book shut again, you rolled your eyes.

“There are at least three other bathrooms in this compound, Tony!”

“What are you two doing in here anyway?” He asked as he opened the door and leaned against the threshold when he spotted you two sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

“(Y/N) found out that Loki is… uh… in heat.”

“In heat?!” Tony repeated. “Like a cat?”

“No! It… has something to do with the procreation cycle of Jötuns. It… is in his nature.”

“Fuck…”

“Hey… language.” If you hadn’t recognised his voice, you would know it was Steve who joined your heated discussion. “What’s going on here?”

“Loki is in heat, like a cat.” Steve frowned.

“No, he isn’t! Not like a cat, this is…” Thor stood again before you could finish your sentence.

“It’s for the best, (Y/N). Down there, he’ll be save from getting himself into trouble.”

“Thor, wait! Loki is suffering! Soon, he will…”

“We can’t risk it, (Y/N)! He almost raped Natasha!” Tony barked. “And if you go near him, I’ll lock you up too. I’ve seen what he’s capable of, (Y/N). I will not let him hurt you.”

“He… he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.” You chirped. No. Loki would never deliberately take a woman against her will. If he did… no! Loki had in incredible amount of self-control and composure; and you knew how much he despised his own heritage. He would fight this—for as long as he could.

“Besides…” Tony added. “It wouldn’t be so bad if he got a taste of his own medicine.”

“Stop blaming Loki for your PTSD, Tony. That was Thanos’ doing and you know that.” You growled darkly. The billionaire paused for a moment.

“He is staying where he is,” he concluded then. “Until he’s gone back to normal.”

-

But you did not want to wait. You couldn’t. You had read about the symptoms in detail. In the book it said that moodiness and aggression were only the beginning. If Loki did not act on what his Jötun body demanded from him and… released, then soon, excruciating pain would torment his loins. Masturbation appeared to be out of the picture. You nibbled on your lower lip. This thought of yours invaded his privacy on a truly shameful level, yet you were certain that if sexual arousal had already been plaguing him for a significant amount of time before this outbreak of his, he would have tried to lay hand on himself already and learned it did not provide the necessary relief.

Sooner or later, he would no longer be able to suppress his erection—and it would not disappear until he… sheathed himself inside a female to fill her with his seed. Under different circumstances, the idea of him claiming a woman… you, in such a possessive manner would have aroused you tremendously yourself. As of right now, however, Loki was in agony. The pain, if ignored for too long, would only get worse—it could last up to months and even then the denial of sexual release could result in permanent damage to his loins and even his potency.

But there was no cure either. No potion or spell to contain a male Jötun’s heat which Thor could have forwarded to Asgardian healers.

It was past midnight when you stopped reading and translating—too appalled by how much more Loki would have to suffer if nothing was done about his… condition. The only way to make it stop… was to act on it.

Your lips parted in realisation. You liked him, very much so—and you found Loki incredibly attractive, dreaming of his hands on your body, even. Perhaps you could help him after all. You were not Jötun but… would his body really make a difference? This most primal part of him wished to mate with a female—and although you had never seen a female Jötun, you doubted they looked much different than you did down there.

-

You had to wait another thirty minutes until the lights in Tony’s lab finally went out and you could sneak through the compound and downstairs to the cells—and once you had made sure that Vision was nowhere to be found, you switched off the security camera for Loki’s cell and approached the thick metal door.

It was quiet. He had stopped screaming. There was no banging against the walls either. Yet when you unlocked the door and slipped inside, his appearance, cowering on the floor and leaning against the cool wall with bare feet, startled you to the core. Loki’s raven hair was completely dishevelled, his knuckles bruised and covered in dry blood. His Jötun appearance was downright intimidating and close up, even more fascinating. He was breathing heavily, the thin shirt he had been wearing underneath all of his armour torn in several places, revealing blue skin and in his dark leather trousers… there was a remarkable bulge.

You shivered slightly when his red eyes met yours. Slowly, he tilted his head. “What are you doing here?” He growled hoarsely but weakly.

“I… I want to help you.”

The God of Mischief snorted. “You cannot help me.”

Mutely, you shook your head. “I can. Loki… I… I know what’s happening with you.”

He snorted once more. “So do I.”

“Let me help you.” Taking a deep breath, you moved closer to him. He reacted immediately. Loki jerked, greedily, as if to grab you and pull you on his lap. He could barely stop himself. Yet you were convinced that he would not hurt you in this state… much. A wave of courage rolled over you—you were doing this for him; and you wouldn’t be doing it if you did not like him in this way. Regardless of what he thought of you after, if he could even imagine being with a mortal like that… you longed to stop his pain.

“Leave.” He said quickly when you kneeled down next to him, timidly resting your palms on his thighs. “No… I said… leave… while you still can.” You did not. In fact, you ignored his rather sincere warning. Slowly, to not tickle the sleeping dragon, you reached for the buttons of his leather trousers and began undoing them until he grabbed a hold of your wrists to stop you. He was ice cold.

“Have you… lost your mind?” Loki was cut off by a loud hiss escaping his lips when your fingertips brushed against his erection. He was large—much larger than he would be in his Aesir form, you presumed, and his cock too was blue and covered in dozens of ridges.

“It won’t go away on its own,” you whispered. “You know it won’t. It’s okay.”

Braver this time, you stroked him again, creating more skin on skin contact. Loki was still holding on to you tightly but made no move to stop you. The touch of a female… it must have been bringing some sort of relief already. Coming here had been the right decision.

“Loki…” You murmured. Finally, your hand closed around his incredibly hard cock entirely and you began to jerk him off—gently at first, only to pick up speed when his breathing grew even heavier than it already was. Defeated, he dropped his head against the wall, revealing his blue neck to you. “Please let me help you.” You repeated. “It’s okay. I trust you.” Upon those words, Loki’s eyes widened barely noticeably. Perhaps it was all he had needed to hear to lose his self-control and composure entirely.

Growling like a wild animal, he suddenly started at you, pushing you back firmly so you lost your balance like a beetle on its back, wrapped his ice cold hands around your ankles and pulled you into him. Your back collided with the floor, knocking all air out of your lungs. You gasped for air all the while Loki busied himself with your clothes. Any layer of fabric was too much. He wanted you naked for him. His sheer strength petrified you when he tore at your pyjamas and ripped them to pieces until they were scattered all over the cell. You trembled—but it wasn’t the icy temperature of his blue skin that made your limbs shake so much. It was, so you realised when your widened eyes fell on his massive erection, now fully springing free from his tight trousers, your own arousal growing into dizzying heights. This, whatever it was, excited you—maybe even way more than it should.

Once more, the God of Mischief grabbed your ankles, forcing your legs open. Your heart skipped a beat when he laid his blood-red eyes upon your bare pussy. Your lower lips must have been glistening with your juices in the artificial light of the cell. Loki growled, his long and cold fingers gripping your ankles so tightly you could already feel the bruises forming. Eagerly, he positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his hard and ice cold cock teasing your clit. A moan escaped your lips, urging him on. The fire in his eyes had returned, like your body had set his ablaze.

He spread you even further for him, your nails digging into the metal floor beneath you—and then he claimed you for his own. Inch by antagonising inch, he split you apart, sheathing himself so deep inside of you all air was knocked from your lungs yet again. He was ice cold and he was much larger than the average man; and you were beginning to understand that yes, female Jötuns were anatomically different than humans. Human women were not made for taking such long cocks… so why did every single powerful thrust of his feel so good?

Loki pulled out almost completely, with only the tip remaining inside of you, only to plunge back inside only the fraction of a second later, fucking you furiously. Your tight and wet walls appeared to mould around his manhood, gripping him tightly, asking for more despite the almost unbearable coldness against your most intimate parts. No longer were you in control of your arms. They reached up, palms gliding over his bare chest and enjoying the coldness under your fingertips. Fascinated and aroused at the very same time, you traced every single ridge on Loki’s body while he was fucking you senseless, until your eyes rolled to the back of your head, unable to take the pleasure. His long manhood his spots inside of you which you had never known even existed. He leaned down, at last letting go of your ankles, instead taking a hold of your wrists to pin them both down right above your head and pressing his body so tightly against yours that your clit kept rubbing against his pelvis with every single stroke. You moaned, stricken by ecstasy, and arched your back as you kept moving your hips up to meet his thrusts.

Aroused, you looked down, watching how his blue cock kept sliding in and out of you, spreading your lips as they enveloped him welcomingly.

Loki groaned, his attention steering towards your breasts as they bounced with each of his rough thrusts. Hungrily, he lowered his face, his cold breath ghosting over your mounts, and sucked your right nipple into his mouth—hard. He nibbled, suckled pulled and bit until the already hardened nub was throbbing with pleasure and need and he repeated the same blissful procedure with your left nipple all the while he kept rutting into you uncontrollably.

“Loki…” You wondered if, in his current state, he would be able to speak. As of right now, he indeed reminded you of a wolf who would annihilate anything standing between him and his subject of desire, his prey—you.

Your toes curled, the promising and numbing sensation growing in your lower abdomen having you scream his name over and over again. You could already feel yourself clenching around him, your body urging him on to mark you with his seed and impregnate you and when he finally released himself into you, burying his cock as deep inside of you as was physically possible and coating your walls with his load, he triggered your own release.

You came with a loud moan, feeling him twitch against you as your pussy contracted around him again and again until you collapsed underneath him, spent and tired from his vigorous fucking. Loki, on the other hand, didn’t even think about letting you be. Unceremoniously, he pulled you on his lap so you came to snuggle up against his cold and naked chest, your face hidden in his neck. He supported himself by leaning against the metal wall, his cock still resting deep inside of you.

“How… are you… feeling?” You breathed out, barely able to keep your eyes open. Being taken thoroughly by a Frost Giant had been a lot more exhausting than you had initially assumed.

He was panting, his eyes almost shut. His erection inside you, however, was still very prominent and nowhere near ebbing down.

“Better… soon.” He growled into your ear. Soon? A high-pitched scream escaped your lips when he sank his teeth into your neck and bit down hard enough to make you squirm on his lap. You could still feel his ice cold sperm dribbling out of you and coating his own cock when he grabbed your arse and began moving you up and down his cold rut, forcing you to ride him.

“Oh… fuck…” You choked out. You were tender already, sensitive to the touch. This was too much, too soon. Yet Loki was too caught up in his pleasure and urges to give you a break. He took you several more times that night, eliciting orgasm after orgasm after orgasm from you—until you were on the verge of passing out.

-

You awoke with a hunger unlike one you had never experienced before. Irritated, you crawled out of bed—using the toilet but skipping your morning routine to get to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast. It was only seven. Loki had not… released you until half past six. There was no way your body could have drawn enough rest from this meagre hour of sleep.

Be that as it may—for now, you were hungry. Quietly, you tiptoed into the kitchen, ignoring the sweet ache and tenderness between your legs and resisting the urge to cup yourself through your pyjama bottoms. The white and bright light of the fridge blinded you when you opened it and reached for a package of juice and one of those pre-packed turkey sandwiches Tony kept buying. Unceremoniously, you then closed the fridge with your butt and sat down at the kitchen table to eat. And you kept returning to the fridge until Steve joined you in the kitchen to have a cup of coffee and then go for a run. When had you ever been this hungry before? Was it because of the aggressive sex you had had with Loki? Jesus…

You blushed when Steve asked you how you had slept—and you were rather grateful you had been smart enough to switch off the security cameras before… helping Loki out. He had still been in his Jötun form when you left at long last but he had looked content and… satisfied, in the most carnal manner possible. You would wait until the rest of the Avengers were up to check on him, to not raise any suspicion.

So when Thor staggered into the kitchen with a shit-eating grin on his face, you nearly jumped from your seat.

“Good morning!” He yelled—clearly in a very good mood. He managed to scarf down an entire package of fruit loops before you couldn’t take it anymore and aggressively scratched your fork over your empty plate until the room went awkwardly quiet.

“Didn’t you forget something?” You asked him heatedly. The God of Thunder frowned.

“No! I did flush the toilet this morning, (Y/N).”

Rolling your eyes, you stood.

“Loki. Loki is still one level below you, locked up in a cell, in pain, while you are enjoying your breakfast.” You hoped though, sincerely, that he was no longer in pain.

“(Y/N)… we spoke about this, there is nothing we can do. Down there, he can’t hurt himself or anyone else. I told you I’m going to Asgard soon, I will speak to—”

It was in this moment that your plate broke in half. You had, subconsciously, used your fork to stab it so forcefully it fell apart like a rotten apple. Eyes widening, you mumbled an apology.

“Sorry… I just… no one should be suffering like this. You all heard him last night.”

Bruce gave you a gentle smile. “You’ve always had a big heart for everyone, huh?” You nodded quickly. They did not need to know about your feelings… or the arousing ache between your legs. Your heart was racing. You took a deep breath, hurrying out of the kitchen without cleaning up behind you. Instead, you immediately locked yourself in the bathroom and turned on the tap to splash some cold water on your face. The icy temperature calmed you once it came in contact with your skin, reminding you of him—if only for a moment.

You were shaking. What on Earth was wrong with you? You took a quick shower to wind down, threw on an oversized sweater and then headed downstairs to the prison cells. A glance at the monitor of the security camera made you let out a relieved breath. Loki had indeed gone back to his Aesir form—and he did no longer seem to be in pain. It was, so you wondered, very unusual, however, to not complain and wreak havoc so the Avengers would let him out but then again… would they truly believe him if he told them he had overcome his heat?

With another deep breath, you opened the cell door and slipped inside.

“You were not supposed to see me like this last night. No one was.” He said quietly before you could even open your mouth, not bothering to make eye contact with you.

“Did you know? What was happening to you?”

“Yes.” He snorted, a bitter smile spreading on his thin lips. “I believed I would be able to control it.” Finally, he looked up, his blue eyes locking with yours. “Did I hurt you?” Your lips parted in surprise. Slowly, you shook your head.

“No… I mean… it was quite pleasurable… for me as well… actually.” You choked out sheepishly.

“Hmm… that I could tell,” Loki gave you a light smirk. “Thank you.” He said then—and for the first time since you had met him, you sensed true honesty and sincerity in his smooth voice.

“I’ll leave the door open.” You returned his smile; the planes in your belly flying loops.

“We are… keeping this between us, are we not?” He hastened to ask when you turned around.

“Of course.” After all, no one needed to know you had let Loki mate with you to regain control over his loins.

-

It was five days after your intimate encounter with Loki when your constant shaking became worse enough for him to notice—and if that wasn’t bad enough already, your body had begun to sweat; a lot. Day in and out, you had to change your sheets as if your bed was your personal sauna—or your personal hell.

You felt like you had been hit by a bus, like an extremely nasty form of the flu had you in its steel grip tightly, unwilling to let you go. Sleep, however, to get some rest and recover, would not come either. Two hours per night at most, three if you got lucky. And instead of getting better, it became worse.

He had been restless ever since. It could not be. After all, it had also never… or had it? Growling to himself, he locked the door to his room, enjoying the quietness and most of all, utter privacy.

Not a soul in the nine realms was aware he was still in the possession of the Tesseract. So when he produced it out of thin air—his large hand momentarily surrounded by a green mist—he made sure to hurry and quickly teleported himself back to Asgard. Heimdall would never open the Bifrost for him if he wasn’t accompanied by Thor.

He was worried about you and his surprise about these particular circumstances was remarkably low. When he closed his eyes, he could still taste your hard nipples on his tongue from when he had suckled on them. He remembered how warm your body felt against his when he had cradled you in his lap and the thought of your tight cunt around his throbbing cock stirred arousal in his leather trousers if only he indulged in reminiscences for too long. Most of all, however, he was unable to forget the sincere smile on your face when you had freed him from the cell the next day… and the mesmerised gaze you had met him with when he had ravished your sweet quim over and over again.

With another deep breath, he disappeared in an ice cold cloud of smoke.

-

Sneaking past the guards and into the palace library—the one place he had spent hours on end in growing up here, hiding away from Thor, his friends and the world, reading and hoarding knowledge—was pathetically easy. He knew exactly what to look for, what lecture would confirm his worrying suspicions. Once he found what he had been searching, he sat down on the windowsill—another usual spot he found comfort in—and began his research. He had known about the impact of a male Jötun’s seed on his female counterpart, of course; for even though he despised his own race, he, as opposed to Thor, had paid attention during their private tutoring lessons as children. The heavy book in his hands, however, made him, the God of Mischief and Trickery, hold his breath. What Loki had not known was that the repercussion of a male Jötun’s seed did not just occur in Jötun females. It applied to any species—including humans. However, the chances of survival for weaker lifeforms were alarmingly low.

Abandoning the book, he hurried out of the library and into the city. There was someone he needed to speak to.

-

“With all due respect, my prince but you are not welcome here.” Loki rolled his eyes. He knew it would not be fun, exactly, to seek out his ex-partners and ask about their well-being long after he had left them. The man opening him when he knocked on Sigyn’s door, a woman he had been engaged with for several years in his youth, was about as tall as Thor—his right hand decorated with a golden ring. Husband. Just great. And, judging by his obvious dismay of finding him on his doorstep, she must have told him about their shared past.

“I need to speak to your wife. Urgently. That is an order.” Sigyn’s husband growled, clenching his fists but stepped aside regardless. Loki made sure not to pay any attention to the furniture and his surroundings. Toys were scattered all across the living room, hinting that Sigyn had become both wife and mother in his absence. Her face fell when she spotted Loki standing in the middle of the small room—truly like he would even have preferred Helheim over being here of all places—as pale as a ghost.

“Loki… I mean… your highness. What… brings you here?”

“I need to ask you a few questions.”

“Um… by all means. Sit down. Would you like some ale?”

“No.” Sigyn pointed at the rectangular kitchen table and then sat down opposite of him. Her hands were folded on the surface of the polished wood.

“It is good to see you.”

“Likewise… Now this will sound odd,” he began unceremoniously, ignoring her husband towering above him with his arms crossed. “But I have to know how you fared after we separated. Not… emotionally. Physically.” He emphasised.

“Physically? That is indeed odd. Oh, I… um… let me see, it’s been such a long time. I had quite an appetite after you left,” she laughed, clearly uncomfortable with his presence. Loki sighed.

“An appetite. What more than that?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Except… yes, of course! I fell ill a few days after. The healers never found out what my body was rebelling against. It lasted for a few months. Tiredness, insomnia, attacks of sweat and I could not stop shaking. Why do you ask? Did you… did you experience it too?”

“No,” he replied quickly, a nauseous feeling spreading in his guts. You were showing the exact same symptoms. Symptoms of addiction. “You said it lasted for a few months?”

“I am sorry, your highness but is there a point to this interrogation? My wife has to feed the baby.”

“We’re almost done.” He barked, glaring at Sigyn’s husband from the corner of his eye.

“It did,” Sigyn confirmed. “But then it never returned.”

“Thank you. That will be all.” Loki took a deep breath and stood, resisting the urge to massage the bridge of his nose to clear his thoughts. It was only when he turned on his heel to leave this way too harmonic place that he noticed Sigyn’s husband had left the door open for him. He rolled his eyes.

“Loki! I-I mean, your highness…”

“Loki is fine, Sigyn. We have seen each other naked, after all.” Beside him, he could practically hear her husband gnashing his teeth. He smirked.

“I understand you do not wish to share with me what troubles you but whatever it is, I hope everything will turn out to be alright.”

Loki gave her a smile. It was as honest as he could muster in this tense situation. Sigyn had always known when he was being plagued by dark sorrows, even before he learned about his true parentage. Much like you. You too had been able to tell he had been unwell, both physically and mentally. He swallowed thickly.

“Thank you, Sigyn.”

He had to see Amora, too. They had not exactly gone separate ways peacefully but if she had experienced the same symptoms as Sigyn after their break-up, he had to get back to you immediately. And he had to tell you. The truth, a luxury given his nature, was the very least you deserved.

-

“Where have you been?” Thor roared as soon as he entered the kitchen to pick up one of those cold drinking chocolates you had introduced him to a while back—the ridiculous amount of sugar would help you, if only for a moment. The presence of Tony, Nat, Bucky, Steve and Thor, leaning against the counter or sitting at the kitchen table, he ignored as best as he could. He would have preferred to be alone now.

Loki quirked his eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Asgard, given that you were unwilling to get help yourself.”

“How? Heimdall wouldn’t…”

“There is a lot Heimdall does not know, brother.” Thor grumbled something he did not understand but it sounded awfully like a curse word in Old Norse.

“Whatever. Have you seen (Y/N)? Her room is down the same hallways as yours, has she left her room lately?” Tony barked at him.

“As far as I am concerned, she has Vision bring her excessive amounts of food, for she is too weak to come to the kitchen herself. No. I have not seen her around.” He replied nonchalantly, with false disinterest. This time, so it seemed, however, his choice of tone, equalled shooting himself in the foot.

“We need to get her to the hospital. None of the medicines I gave her worked even a little bit—and I contacted the best doctors I know.” Loki suppressed a scoff. As if a hospital full of human ‘doctors’ would be able to help you. The only one who could… was he.

“For Fuck’s sake, she has been feeling ill ever since…” Tony’s face fell. “Ever since we locked up your brother.” Belligerently, his gaze wandered over to Loki again. “Okay, Reindeer Games, what did you do to her and don’t even try to lie to me!”

“You do assume, automatically, that I have something to do with it?” He mocked. Tony clenched his fists.

“Loki,” Thor added calmly. “Do you… know something?” The God of Mischief sighed. If he told them, what little trust they had in his capabilities as an Avenger would vaporise like smoke. It mattered not. In fact, he could not care less if any of those self-proclaimed heroes even liked him. Yet if he spoke the truth… surely they would do anything in their power to keep you away from him—which was exactly what they could not do if they wanted you to survive and feel better again as much as he did. He could just take care of the problem on his own… sooner or later, however, they were bound to find out about their intimate encounters, and he was beyond keeping secrets like that. If he wanted to make love to you, then he would, may the Norns help him.

“It is… my seed.” He choked out reluctantly.

“Your… what!? Your… yeah, no, I can’t say that out loud without throwing up… is making her sick!?”

“The seed of a male Jötun is causing… an addiction. Withdrawal will make her weak and ill.” Loki looked up grimly. “Frost Giants live in strictly monogamous relationships.”

“What, like penguins? How did she even come in contact with… did you… did you rape her? I swear to God, I will kill you.”

“I did not lay a finger on her.” Loki replied darkly.

Tony threw his hands up in the air. “So how did your happy juice get inside of her in the first place then!? How did that happen, I wonder?”

“She came to me voluntarily, Stark!”

“But you knew? If you knew it would make her sick, why didn’t you stop her, you selfish asshole!?”

“How!? How, Stark!? Resisting the urge to mate in heat is like attempting to suppress a sneeze. It’s impossible. Don’t bother your pathetic human mind with things you do not understand.”

“Loki…” Thor began warningly. The God of Mischief ignored him with a hostile growl.

“(Y/N) would never do that.” Tony said then.

“Perhaps you do not know her as well as you thought you do.”

“You little shit, I will…” Tony jumped from his chair as if stung by an adder, prompting Loki to draw one of his daggers seemingly out of nowhere when he started at him. Both Natasha and Steve barely managed to hold him back.

“Leave it, Tony. This is Loki. He is just trying to provoke you.” Nat appeased.

Just this one time, however, they were wrong. Loki did, in fact, care about you. It was just he had not realised that until you had willingly offered your body to him when he had been in pain. Glaring at them darkly, he rose from his chair.

“I am going to fix this.” He spat. It almost sounded like a threat. “Not for you. I could watch you drop dead to my feet without so much as blinking. But for her.” Fuming, he stormed out, his right fist still clutching at his dagger in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. And as of right now, Thor knew better than to stop him.

He needed to see you. Remorse and guilt were eating him up from the inside out—and it wasn’t just the fact you had helped him in spite of everything he had done to Midgard only a few years back. It was… you were… Loki closed his eyes for a brief moment. You were his.

When he knocked on your door, there was no response. Now there was a chance you were asleep, yet he somehow knew better than to leave and try again later as to not startle you. After all… he was going to make you feel better.

He slipped inside, locking the door behind him with magic so you would not be disturbed. The sight of you almost broke his heart. You were trembling, buried under a pile of blankets, pale and weak.

“(Y/N)…” He spoke with a quiet voice, approaching you slowly. Your eyes opened when you heard his voice, your weak body barely managing to turn over to look at him. A cough escaped your lips before you could answer him.

“Hey…”

“How are you feeling?”

“Terrible.” You tried for a laugh but could only manage another cough. With a straight face, he sat down on the edge of the bed so he was able to bring his palm to your forehead. You were incredibly warm, yet the sweat made your skin cold to the touch. His heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, he was worried you only had a few weeks left until your body gave up fighting the withdrawal. He would not, ever let this happen.

“I brought you some cold drinking chocolate.”

“Oh…” You chuckled weakly. “Thank you. Is that the only reason you came?”

“No,” he laughed. “I came to check on you.”

“An eye for an eye, huh?” Your eyes fell shut when you smiled.

“Hmm… I’m afraid it is a little more complicated than that.” He purred. You never noticed how his eyes fell on your crotch, even if it was covered by a bunch of blankets. Slowly but determined, he slid his left hand under the layers of fabric until he found what he was searching for. With skilled fingers, he began to massage your clit until he felt you responding to his attentive touches. You arched your back, your sex growing wetter and wetter fast—like your body knew exactly what would follow. Licking his lips, he scooped some of it up to spread all over your quim and create even more friction. You were squirming by the time he removed the blankets entirely and positioned himself between your legs, careful not to shift all of his body weight onto you.

Was he going to… did he… could he possibly… reciprocate your feelings? Your heart skipped a beat, butterflies awakening in your belly. If only you could…

“Loki… Loki, I… I really want to do this again too but… not now, I’m… I really don’t feel well.”

“Shhh…” He would ponder over your words later. You wanted to do this again too? Had it not just be compassion and pity that had driven you to offer him your most intimate parts for relief? And what if you refused him now? You had to trust him. So he shut you up by pressing his lips against yours, capturing them in a passionate kiss and then, once again slowly but determined, removed the blankets and peeled your pyjama from you until he had you naked—fine, he had helped with magic; and he was certainly too impatient to remove his own clothes, so instead contented himself with freeing his growing erection from his trousers only.

A whimper escaped your lips when you caught sight of his arousal, his tip—not blue but the colour of flesh this time—pressing against your entrance. He slid inside you to the hilt with almost no resistance, your warm pussy welcoming him in. Loki moaned when your walls gripped him tightly; it was like your body already knew his release would make it feel better. Only this time, he was in control. This time, he would take his time and make gentle love to you—right until you began to tremble underneath him for entirely different reasons.

Your eyes fell shut when Loki started moving, retreating almost completely only to plunge back deep inside of you fast and passionately. You were too weak to buck your hips, as much as you would have loved to. And despite your weariness, he felt incredible. You were unable to decide which form of his you liked better.

You kissed him again when his nose brushed against yours and his breath tickled your lips, bathing in the intimacy between you. But when he slid his hand down to where your bodies were united to pamper your clit all the while speeding up, hungry for his release, you stopped him, albeit gently.

“I… I don’t think I can, I’m too… but I… it’s okay.” You murmured. “Cum.”

It was a request he could not resist, not any longer. Thrusting forward a few more times, his release was beginning to overwhelm him. He groaned into your ear, his hot breath brushing against your cheek, and let his climax consume him. He was throbbing against your walls, his seed—surprisingly warm and not as cold as it had been the first time—filling you to the brim and until you could feel it dribbling out of you again. Loki stilled, turning you over so you both rested on the mattress on your sides, with his slowly softening cock still inside of you and one of your legs draped over his hips. One heartbeat passed, then another and another. And just like that… you felt like you had been reborn.

“How… I feel so much better.” Loki kept silent. Remorse was sparkling in his blue eyes. Avoiding your curious gaze, he looked down, with a start fascinated with the blue roses on your bed sheets.

“Loki?”

“You did fail to read all of it, did you not?” He stated quietly.

“What… what do you mean?”

“The book you took from my shelf. I looked it up when you got worse. It wasn’t until I left for Asgard that I realised why our… sexual encounter is making you ill.”

“I… wait… Does that mean you believe it has something to do with you? I mean… what we did? Is it… I’m not pregnant, am I!?”

“No. You are not.” He smirked at you weakly. “That, I would have sensed already. No… I’m afraid it is a little more complicated. Frost Giants live in strictly monogamous relationships. They never… switch their partners once they mated during their first heat. If they do…” Loki took a deep breath. “It appears that the seed of a Frost Giant triggers some sort of… addiction for their female partner. They develop a carnal craving for their seed which forces them to keep returning for… more.”

Biologically speaking, this was a downright bulletproof way of ensuring the survival of a species—the Jötuns’ own bodies turning against them and demanding sex. The gravity of his words, however, hit you only a moment later. So this was why you had been feeling so sick lately. You were showing signs of… addiction. Your body had become addicted to Loki’s seed. You swallowed thickly.

“I-is there… is there a way to stop this?”

“I went to speak to my former partners back on Asgard—which, to be frank, does not just sound like a disaster. But I needed to know if they experienced any symptoms similar to yours when we… separated.” You ignored the painful sting in your heart when he said ‘former partners’. Of course Loki had had sex before, had perhaps even been in love. He did not strike you as the type of Norse God who was unexperienced in the art of love making. After all, he had more than just proved this to you. It mattered not, not now.

“And… did they?” You probed nervously.

Loki nodded seriously. “They were both bedridden for months, plagued by uncontrollable trembling and sweating. Their appetite increased, they ate twice as much than they usually would without ever feeling truly full… and they barely slept anymore, tossing and turning for most of the night. Amora added she became increasingly violent as well. They, of course, believed it was a virus which would pass, eventually.” Terrified, you remembered how you had broken your plate in the kitchen the night after your lovemaking. It all made sense now.

But you did not dare ask what this meant. When dreaming of having a relationship with Loki, you had not imaged a partnership out of physical and sexual necessity which would feel like a chore to him; like an obligation now that you had helped him out, after all.

“But they were Asgardian.” He suddenly said, pausing to let his words sink in. “You are human. You are mortal. I am uncertain you would survive…” If I stopped having sex with you. Is that what he had meant to say before he stopped himself abruptly?

Taking a deep and shaky breath, you gathered all of your courage, as weak as it may be.

“This is all my own fault, Loki.”

“It is not—“

“N-no, let me speak. It’s my fault. You couldn’t help it. And I came to you on my own accord. But…” You swallowed. “Even if I had known, I still would have helped you.”

The God of Mischief frowned when you reached for his hand and held it—but it was a downright vulnerable expression.

“Loki… I’m not going to expect you to keep having sex with me if you don’t… I mean…” It was then he began to smirk cheekily.

“And if I do?” Loki had truthfully speaking always been a puzzle—always keeping his deepest thoughts and feelings all to himself. Until now. So he did reciprocate your feelings.

“Y-you do?” His smirk widened.

“It… does get better after a while, once the pair is more acquainted to each other’s bodies,” he continued. “And they are then able to spend more time apart without any signs of withdrawal showing. Ultimately, however, once the male Jötun claimed her, the female is bound to him… if he decides to keep her.”

Despite your weakness, you raised an eyebrow. “That sounds pretty sexist, Lokes.” Loki looked up. His heart jumped when you gave him a nickname.

“Sexist? No. Dominant? Yes.” He growled darkly.

“You’re right. It’s probably not sexist given that male Frost Giants go into heat.” You giggled in response. Loki tickled your sides for that remark, making you wriggle around on the bed. If your hunch was not deceiving your love-drunken mind, then the God of Mischief had just begun to court you.

“Loki?” You mused, raising your voice in a shy manner.

“Hmm?”

“I think I feel fit enough now to have an orgasm.”

The God of Mischief laughed—as heartily as you had never heard him laugh before. “Do you now?”

Next thing you knew he was already on top of you again, covering your naked body with tender kisses.

-

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥  

[goldengoddess]

dance with me? - kaz brekker

request: uh hi! i don’t think you’re taking requests at this time but there is just something that i can’t get out of my head. it would be a kaz x reader and they go in a job at a ball. they have to dance together to blend in so that means touching. so reader lets him squeeze her hand or something to take his mind off his past and stuff but he like hurts the reader and then feels really bad about it or something. i hope you like this and i LIVE FOR YOUR WRITING. um thanks i guess🖤🖤

a/n: ballroom dancing scenes!!!! yes,,, im a whore for these and oh my god this is so long totally got away from me <3333

warnings: heist stuff, touch aversion? and one mention of a gun

this is not how you thought your night was going to go.

honestly, it wasn't how the night was meant to go. but heists almost never go the way they're meant to.

even so, when you woke up that morning the last place you expected to be was dancing in a ballroom with kaz brekker.

the heist was at one of the more upscale parties thrown by some wealthy mercher. the original plan had involved you, kaz, nina, and of course, inej. you and nina would come through the front doors of the party with some fake papers that kaz had been able to retrieve. the two of you would be dressed extravagantly, nina more so than you. nina was meant to take all of the attention of the night, so no one would notice as you tried to take the necklace right off of a woman's neck.

kaz would sneak in through another door, dressed as a guest, but much more conspicuously. he would be your backup on the floor, if he got the opportunity to do your job, he would take it. and inej was jumping around rooftops on lookout, just in case any other gangs got any ideas or any of the plan was leaked.

that's how things were meant to have worked out. in and out, not raising any alarms, and walking out half a million kruge richer.

halfway through the night though, as you kept your eyes on the target dancing around the room, kaz appeared at your side. you raised your eyebrows, looking at him over the cup of kvas in your hand. the two of you had agreed that as a group you'd pretend you didn't know each other. the less interaction, the less chance of suspicion.

kaz tilted his head towards nina. you turned your attention to the girl in the pretty red dress. she was surrounded by people wanting to touch her, talk to her, just like she had been the rest of the night. you looked back at kaz with a confused look on your face. 'what about her' you tried to relay with your eyes.

he lifted his arms and motioned to one tall man in a black and white suit, watching her. you tried not to linger too much on kaz's ungloved hands but you did anyway. but then you noticed the very distinct outline of a gun strapped to the man's thigh.

you sucked in a breath and turned to kaz in panic. this party was strictly no weapons. you had a small knife tucked into your corset but you knew that there was no way to win a gunfight with a knife. and if that man was armed it meant he wasn't alone. and that he meant trouble. and he was looking in your direction. there was no way the two of you would be able to get that necklace now.

kaz seemed to search for something in your eyes. he had his scheming face on, as jesper had dubbed it. you could tell the moment he made a decision one what to do next because he physically grimaced.

slowly, and with evident hesitation, kaz lifted up his hand in an inviting gesture. your eyes furrowed in confusion and stared at his pale hand. he nudged it toward you and whispered "c'mon" under his breath.

you straightened our back and placed your hands firmly on your hips, "what exactly are you asking me to do."

he rolled his eyes in annoyance, but you knew him well enough to notice the way his hand was shaking. he was nervous. he was panicking.

"i'm asking you to dance with me. now take my hand. now."

he didn't wait for you to take in what he was saying and he grabbed your hand from your hip. he dragged you onto the dance floor, you only had a couple of seconds to pull up your heavy dress before tripping on it.

kaz placed a hand on your dressed hip. you rested your hand on his shoulder. he lifted your joined hands and pulled you a little bit closer.

and then he started to dance.

correction, he started leading you in a dance.

for a couple of seconds you were so shocked, by the feeling of kaz's hand in yours, by the closeness of your bodies, by the fact that the two of you were now dancing in a room full of the wealthy elite, that you could almost ignore the way kaz's entire body was trembling.

you pulled your body away from his slightly when you noticed, giving him more room but not letting go of his hand, not letting the act drop and calling unwanted attention to yourselves.

"kaz" you whispered and squeezed his hand gently. he finally looked you in the eyes and your heart almost shattered at the look in his eyes. you gave his hand another squeeze and tilted your head to the side, "are you um are you okay?"

he let out a shaky breath. he squeezed your hand back quickly, his face showed the slightest amount of relief at the motion. you furrowed your brows and gave his hand another squeeze, and he mimicked your motion. you raked your eyes up and down his body and his trembling had slightly stopped.

"squeeze" you whispered and looked around the rest of the ballroom.

"what?" you heard him say.

"just squeeze my hand. if it'll help" you whisper shouted at him. your emberassment wouldn't let you look in his direction.

but you felt him start to slowly squeeze your joined hands. his strength surprised you and within a few seconds, he was full-on squeezing your hand. you bit the inside of your cheek to stop a pained whimper from leaving your lips.

you could tell the motion was helping kaz calm down, helping him focus on something else other than the closeness of the two of you.

he led you around the room in dance for a couple of more minutes, the two fo you didn't say anything. kaz focused on not focusing on you. and you focused on kaz's tight ass grip.

he was a good dancer. better than you expected him to be. his grip on your thigh was feather-light, but he didn't falter in his direction and didn't lose his lead at any moment. it was easy for you to slip into this act. you had to stop yourself from leaning your head onto his shoulder, from letting yourself slip into the fantasy of being a princess with a handsome, non-murderous, prince. this was dirty hands himself not prince charming. regardless, you wanted to ask him where he had learned to dance like that.

then, inej, sneaky as she is, appeared at your side holding a very familiar ruby necklace. "got it" she grinned and then slipped away before you could get a word in.

then, as you turned to say something to kaz, nina showed up on the opposite side of the two of you. her attention switched to your joined hands and smirked, and then she looked at kaz and nudged her head towards the exit. "uh i recommend we get going guys, inej isn't as skilled at stealing as you two so we better get out of here. quick."

she started prancing out the door and kaz started dragging you away, following behind nina. you looked around and noticed a couple of scary-looking men were facing you and kaz. he let go of your hand as you quicken your pace and then all four of you were running down the streets. anything to get as far away from that place as possible before guns started going off.

a couple of blocks later all four of you stopped in an ally to catch your breath. kaz was rubbing his bad leg, tenderly. nina was laughing with inej, clearly, the two of them were pumped up with adrenaline.

you, on other hand, were shaking your hand to relieve some of the soreness you were starting to feel. you did it close to your body so the others wouldn't notice but of course, the professional criminals who stayed alive by noticing noticed.

"y/n, what happened to your hand?" nina asked, her smile being playful.

at this, kaz's head snapped your way from where he was looking. his eyes darted between your face and your hand.

you looked away and gave nina a very casual smile, "nothing, i'm good. i hit it on a wall or something when we were running here. just a little sore. now how about we see that necklace inej?"

after a couple of minutes of walking and joking around with the girls, bragging about the beautiful gems, they walked ahead of you and kaz.

your steps lined up with his, so when he slowed down slightly, conveniently out of ear range of nina and inej, you slowed down too.

you waited for him to speak. but were still shocked when he said, "i'm sorry"

you didn't look at him, just continued walking forward. "you have nothing to be sorry for kaz. we both did what we had to do to make sure we all got out of there alive. no harm no foul."

he scoffed a little, "saints you're starting to sound like me." you smiled slightly at that and glanced his way to find him already looking at you, knowing it was true. he continued on there was harm, is your hand okay?"

you nodded your head, "yeah. i'm all good, genuinely. but now i know you probably have a very solid handshake."

he chuckled and then got very serious. he looked you in the eyes as the two of you walked, "thank you. i needed that. i probably would have passed out if it weren't for you." the last words were whispered. you knew how hard it was for kaz to admit weakness so you understood.

"anything i can do to help", you smiled, "plus i got a free dance out of it. you are one good dancer dirtyhands." you teased him.

and surprisingly he teased right back, "maybe we could do it again sometime then?"

[confessionsofacougar]

OMG I Passed Out!!!!

One of my fwb’s is a gorgeous guy who I’ve now been seeing for 5 or 6 years. I started seeing him when he was 24. Was meant to be a one-off thing but we hit it off… and we keep going back for more. And over the years, it has just got better and better. We always had a good connection sexually and we’ve also had a good intellectual connection. We can talk for hours. We’ve tried getting into the swinging scene but haven’t had much luck. We met one couple (which was a disaster) and we’ve had one ffm threesome (also a disaster) … but those stories are for another day.

Today I want to talk about the time he made me pass out from orgasming. I didn’t think it was possible – but it is.

We were at his place. We had partaken in a little 420 which we find relaxes us, makes things last longer and enhances sensations. Not something we do every time, but sometimes… it’s good to mix things up.

Anyway, this day we were in no hurry. Neither of us had work or study obligations. We sat on the couch and watched tv and chatted for a bit and then he stood up and took his pants and underwear off. He stood in front of me, and I could see he was already rock hard. He is a good 8 or 9 inches so there is plenty of him! I knew what he wanted. I took him in my mouth and started to suck. He moaned as soon as he felt my lips around him. He was already so hard. He put one foot up on the couch next to me and I continued to suck. He held my ponytail and guided me as to when to go faster or slower. He asked if I could take all of him. I looked up at him with a “You know damn well I can” look on my face. I opened my mouth wider, slid my mouth all the way down his shaft, opened my throat and felt his head slide right down. He moaned as he felt my throat close around him. Then he pulled out, took me by my hands, and pulled me to my feet. He kissed me. He can make my knees weak with his kisses. He bites my lip. My neck. It’s so good. Then he undressed me. He told me to lay on the couch. He spread my legs and positioned himself between them. He kissed my pussy, then ran his fingers between the lips before he slid his fingers deep inside me. By this time I was already dripping wet.

Now I don’t know what it is about this guy, but I swear, he barely has to touch me with his fingers and tongue, and I’m having an orgasm. Some guys – can’t make it happen no matter how they try. This guy – is a genius. And with the 420, I was feeling things more intensely anyway.

He slid his fingers inside me and then he licked me. Oh god, it felt amazing. And before I knew it… I was having my first orgasm. It was pretty intense!

He kept going. Fingers probing inside me – hitting the right spot every time. His tongue working wonders on my clit and the outside of my pussy. I had another orgasm. Even more intense than the first. Holy shit! I was trembling all over.

He didn’t stop. He kept going. He looked up at me as I orgasmed a third time and I could tell he was really enjoying torturing me. Because although it felt so damn good – it was torture!!!! One after the other. Each one getting more and more intense.

I thought he would stop then – but no. He kept going. Another orgasm.

And another.

And another.

Holy shit! By this time, the orgasms are sooooo intense that I can feel them roll through my entire body. I feel like I’m going to burst.

It’s hard to describe the sensation. My body would still be recovering from one orgasm when the next one would start. There was no relief in between, so it felt like each one was adding to the one before.

My head was spinning.

My heart was racing.

I was shaking all over.

It hurt. But oh god, it hurt so damn good.

And I was so sensitive. My clit was pounding so hard I thought he must be able to hear it.

Another one.

I was almost crying. The feelings were so intense by now. But still he didn’t stop.

I felt the next orgasm building. I squirmed. My body trembled. My heart raced. My head spun. I felt like I was going to explode….

... and then I’m coming to. My mind is fuzzy and my whole body is shaking uncontrollably.

I’m not exactly sure how long I was out for. He said it was less than a minute. But when I came to, he was still licking me. But this was different. He seemed to be lapping at me. after a few minutes, he sat up. His beard was dripping. The top of his t-shirt was soaked. I wanted to ask him if I had squirted, but honestly – I couldn’t make my mouth move. I don’t think I couldn’t even put a coherent thought together by that stage.

He smiled at me and asked me if I had enjoyed that. I smiled and tried to nod. My head was soooo fuzzy. He sat on the couch next to me, took off his t-shirt, and pulled me up onto my feet. Bad idea. My legs were in no way capable of holding me up at that stage and they buckled. He caught me and pulled me down on top of him. Straddling him, he slid his cock inside me. I moaned loudly. I was still so sensitive that even the feel of his cock inside me was enough to trigger yet another orgasm.

I didn’t ride him. I wasn’t capable of moving. We sat there, with his hard cock inside me for what felt like ages. Every now and then he’d lift my ass, and he’d fuck me a little, and we kissed a lot.

After a while, he lay me back on the couch. He got on top of me and again slid his cock inside me. Balls deep, he hits my cervix. He started off slow. Every time he went deep, he would hit my clit and I’d tremble. It was still so sensitive. He smiled at me, then started pounding me. Hard. Fast. I managed to wrap my arms around him, and I raked my fingers along his back.

He kissed me again. He bit my lip. I felt his cock thicken. I could feel it pulsating. He pushed deep inside me and I could feel the warm cum fill me. Just then, I had yet another orgasm. When he finished cumming, he lay on top of me. We just lay there, still joined together, catching our breath. Basking in the afterglow. For me, I was still trying to put a thought or two together. Eventually, he rolled off me and lay beside me. He put his arms around me and kissed my neck. He asked me if I had enjoyed it. I looked at him. I managed a little laugh and let out a deep sigh. I think I managed to say “wow” a few times.

We fell asleep. Woke up about two hours later. My head was still fuzzy, but not so much. I had definitely squirted. The couch was drenched.

Neither of us had encountered someone passing out during sex before. I’d had someone tell me that it happened to them, but I honestly didn’t believe it was possible. It is. I think I had something like 10-12 orgasms that day. They were in such quick succession that I didn’t have time to recover from one before the next one came. And my body couldn’t take it. Although it was an amazing experience, and I’m so glad I got to experience it, it is not something I’d want to do too often. Makes for one hell of a memory though.

[mercurygguk]

winter soldier | jjk

genre; winter soldier/avengers au, angst/smut/fluff

pairing; winter soldier!jungkook x avenger!female reader

summary; the love of your life died during ww2, they honored his death. you had never imagined you’d ever see him again until you’d join him in death, but here he is and he’s trying to kill you. he’s not himself at all. you, however, insist that the man you used to know is still in there somewhere.

word count; 6,764

warnings; descriptions of war/battle/fight scenes, descriptions of scars, the rest of the avengers joins the party, reader is like Cap A but not like Cap A, you know??, jungkook looking hella hot with his long hair and steel arm, inspiration from ‘captain america: winter soldier’, swearing, SMUT; explicit sexual activities, oral (f. receiving), love making at its highest- nothing kinky, just plain ol’ sex

a/n; okay so um, i’m binge-watching the avengers movies atm and i was watching Captain America: Winter Soldier. i kid you not, throughout the entire movie i was imagining what jungkook would look like as the winter soldier- jungkook combined with superheroes is like the perfect story, amirite?? ;)) enjoy!

ps. once again, i didn’t proof read so ignore my possible mistakes lol

(for reference, this is what jungkook’s hair looks like in this fic)

War.

Terrorizing. Horrifying. Absolutely petrifying.

There are several words to use when talking about it, describing it, reliving it. Once you’ve experienced it, it will haunt you till the day you die and even beyond that. There isn’t much positive to take from it, not many positive memories come to you as you think back to the time during war. Only one positive memory returns to you from those dark times...

Him.

Him who did not fit in with the military services due to his lack of strength and speed. Him who never let anyone step upon him and evolved with the job. Him who never backed down from a challenge or an order given from the highest ranks. Him who had braveness unlike anyone, loyalty like no other, a will to fight for what’s worth it and to win. Him who made you fall for him without meaning to. Him who promised he would always come back to you, no matter what happened.

And then one day he didn’t. They had told you he went down in the fight, died for his country, for his team. He hadn’t hesitated to sacrifice himself, thrown himself towards the threat in the hopes of ending it for everyone once and for all. That he did. He killed himself in the process of saving everyone else.

A hero is what they had called him. Honored his name, saluting as they all stood facing his military photograph, serious faces and emotionless eyes all over. Tears had filled your eyes that day, but they didn't fall. You refused to let them. There was no way you would cry because of a liar. A coward, really. Anger kept you going, anger aimed at him. A rage so intense that you would convince yourself that you hated him. Some people would call you selfish, selfish for hating a man who sacrificed himself for everyone else. They were right. You were selfish. But love makes you selfish, and you loved him. So ridiculously much.

Years later, decades into the new century he remains as a positive yet heartbreaking and frustrating memory in your mind and heart. You haven’t aged a day thanks to the advanced technology and the project you offered to be the experiment of, in the end of the war. After his death and the war seeming more out of control than ever, you thought there wasn’t much more to live for, so you volunteered. A successful masterpiece, professor Kim had said as you regained consciousness on the lab table. You were his greatest, most succeeded experiment. You still are, except for the fact that Kim Namjoon is no longer walking among people on earth.

Now you’re living as the successful masterpiece he has created. Stronger, faster – young too even though your real age is something near 98. It doesn’t show. You look like any other 23-year-old but with extraordinary strength and speed. Being a part of a team as the Avengers truly has given you a meaning of life, a purpose that you didn’t feel you had before joining this outstanding team of superheroes as some would call you.

But as you stand here, in the middle of a battlefield that is scarily similar to those back in the 1940’s, you feel small. Gunshots fire around you, flying past your head and ringing in your ears. Explosions going off from the shots fired by Stark, Iron Man as he’s known as. The grounds breaking from the power of Thor’s hammer, the bad guys falling like flies in the hands of Widow. You’re watching it all unfold, breathing for a split second as robots are charging at you with red, glowing eyes.

For God’s sake, just how many of these are there?

Keeping yourself from rolling your eyes in pure annoyance, you set off running towards them with an unmatched speed, fists up and ready to take them out. One goes down after another, surrendering to your very angry, very powerful fists. Your patience is running thin as the robots keep appearing from left and right, setting their focus on you as demanded by whoever’s controlling them. A person you haven’t managed to find yet, but determined to hunt down and put a bullet through their head.

“Hey, Thor!” You call out to the nordic God flying around you, punching fists through robots and throwing his hammer at them. He glances your way, finding you surrounded by robots, too many for you to fight by yourself. “A lil hand here?”

He nods in response, immediately dropping to the ground and plunging his hammer into the asphalt on the ground, lightning seeping through the ground and into the robots, taking them down and splitting them in half. Thor throws a smug smirk at you before turning back around to fight another round of robots. You roll your eyes, about to run off when shots are being fired at you.

“Shit!” You hiss, running to hide behind a tipped-over truck while fishing out a gun from the strap around your thigh. You lean out, aiming in the direction of the shots. There is a man with long, dark hair, a black mask covering half his face and a silver arm that does not look familiar at all. The mysterious man steps onto the railing of the bridge he fired shots from, hard glare focused on you as he steps out and lets himself fall to the ground beneath the bridge. He lands on his feet, supporting himself with the silver fist into the asphalt. He stands to his height, walking straight towards you and leaving a mark in the asphalt where he had landed. Your eyes widen as he holds up a machine gun, opening fire at you as you scramble to run off while loading more shots into your gun.

Peeking around the corner of the brick building you’re hiding behind, you hold your gun up to aim at him. You fire a bullet, hitting his silver arm. He doesn’t budge, the bullet not even leaving a bump in the silver.

“What the-” you gape, firing shots again. He holds his silver hand up, the bullets bouncing off like they’re made of cotton, still walking towards you with eyes focused on you. There’s something about him that seems familiar – maybe his build? Or the way he walks? Or was it the slightly curly hair on top of his head? You can’t quite pin it as you watch him get closer, fists clenched tightly at his sides as if he’s ready to throw punches at you. You contemplate running to him, throwing the first punch at him before he gets to you. There is a slight hesitancy in your body as you can’t shake off how awfully familiar he seems the closer he gets to you. Knowing what the right thing to do is, you step out from your hiding spot, collecting all strength as you charge at him. A yell of anger and confusion rumbles from your chest as you jump on the last step, fist pulled back only for it to be forced forward and into the center of the mysterious man’s chest.

He stumbles back slightly, gaining his balance quickly before he steps closer, throwing a punch at you as well. You dodge, throwing your leg into his side in a strong kick. He grunts as he catches your leg, pulling on it to force you towards him. You ram into him, his clenched fist connecting with your jaw. You groan in pain as you fall to the ground, landing before his feet. Squinting at him, you watch as he kneels down over you, holding you down against the ground. As he stares at you, raising his hand to deliver a punch to your face again, you realize it as your eyes meet his. You gasp softly, not believing the sight in front of you. It’s a known fact that you would recognize those deep, brown eyes anywhere in any given moment.

“J-Jungkook?”

The sound of your voice, the sound of his name falling from your lips has him freezing for a split second. His eyes shift between yours as he slowly begins to sink his fist. But not even seconds later he’s raising his fist again and that’s when you can tell that he does not recognize you. He is looking at you as if you’re a complete stranger, like he didn’t spend the last year of his life telling you that he loved you more than life itself.

His gaze fills with the only feeling he feels, hatred. He moves to force his silver fist down and into your face, a face he used to call beautiful as he traced his finger tips along the edges. You barely dodge it, trying your very best to meet his eyes again as you call his name.

“Jungkook!” You fight the tears that are brimming your eyes as you continue to dodge his hits the best you can, “Hey! It’s me!”

He’s not holding off, continuing to throw punches at you and hitting the asphalt as you squirm in between his thighs. He’s impeccably strong, the asphalt cracking under the jabs of his fists. His thighs are keeping you in place as he pins you to the ground, your arms locked along your sides. You know he’ll punch you to death if you don’t get inside his head. It seems nearly impossible as his eyes are trained on you, emotionless and angry, only a small glimt of the man you used to know in them.

“____! Might wanna duck down a bit,” Tony shouts as he flies in your direction, his glowing hand aimed at Jungkook.

Your eyes widen in horror as you scramble together all the strength you have, throwing Jungkook off you and away from the deathly ray of light coming from Tony’s palm.

“No!”

The shot hits the asphalt a few meters away from you, nearly grazing Jungkook but it doesn’t, thankfully. Tony is shocked as he comes to a halt in the air, staring between Jungkook and you. You wave a hand at him. “I got him,” you assure him as you pant out breaths of air, nodding towards Widow and Thor, “go help the others.”

The man in the iron suit in front of you seems to hesitate for a second as he looks at you. He catches the pleading look on your face, glancing back at Jungkook for a moment before nodding at you once and flying in the direction of Widow and Thor, aiming his shots at the robots that are still coming from all sides. You turn your attention back to Jungkook, the body of the love of your life but not the eyes or mind of him.

“Jungkook,” you try again, slowly stepping closer as he stays still, slightly shocked that you had saved him from Iron Man’s deadly shot, “it’s me, ____.”

You’re begging, tone pleading him and hands up in surrender as you slowly step closer to him. He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling in deep breaths. His eyes are dark, cold and distant as you get even closer. He’s frozen in his spot. He seems confused behind that hard expression, confused because you look less terrified than you did before realizing who he is. He doesn’t flinch or move away from your hand as it inches closer to his face, reaching for the black mask on his face.

“Hey,” you softly say, hesitating to touch him as you let a single tear escape and roll down your cheek. Something flashes in his eyes as he looks into your wet eyes, a small hint of recognition, familiarity too. Maybe he remembers. You hope he does. He lets you pull the black mask off completely, the strong line of his jaw appearing in front of you as well as his pink lips you used to kiss so often in that hidden place you liked to meet almost every night. “It’s me,” you whisper, “it’s ____.”

You’re afraid you’re imagining things as tears build up in the corner of his eyes, his jaw tightening. It’s too much for him. The memories returning with full force, the emotions filling his chest and warming it for the first time in 70 years. He wants to cry. He doesn’t know whether it's happiness because you’re right here in front of him, after he thought he would never get to see you again as he took his last breath back in 1944, or sadness because he’s well aware that he almost killed you if you hadn’t pushed him off you.

“____?” His voice betrays him as it cracks, your name coming out in a croaked voice. More tears escape as you hear your name falling from his lips for the first time since that morning in the military camp where he said ‘see you soon’ and then never returned. He freezes as you throw yourself at him, arms wrapped around him as you pull him closer in a tight hug. The sniffles and muffled cries you let out breaks his emotionless, cold heart and filling it with a warmth he hasn’t felt in so long. A tear escapes from the corner of his eye as he lets his own arms snake their way around your waist, hugging you just as tight as you hug him.

Relief.

That’s what he’s feeling.

Jungkook wanders around inside Stark’s office, eyes exploring things as he calmly runs his silver hand over them. You watch him from a few feet away, arms crossed over your chest. Worry is filling your entire body as his back is turned to you. He still doesn’t seem like himself. There is something about him that makes you anxious, something about him makes you wonder if he’ll turn at any moment, falling back into whatever sort of amnesia he has been experiencing for the past decades.

You jump in surprise when the door opens beside you, revealing Tony. He notices your jumbled state, giving you a small, half smile. You turn your eyes back to Jungkook who’s picking at an ancient-looking sculpture on Tony’s desk causing Tony to take a step closer.

“Hey! Buddy!” He calls out, catching Jungkook’s attention. “Don’t touch that, please. It’s antique.”

Jungkook steps away from the desk, hands up in mock surrender, emptiness in his eyes as if he couldn’t care less about Tony’s antique sculpture. No one really cared about that sculpture. It’s doomed to break at some point when it’s placed in his office, in the Avengers building.

“Tony,” you catch the attention of the older man, looking straight at him with hopeful, desperate eyes, “can you help him?”

He turns to face Jungkook, looking him over from head to toe. “Friday, give me a scan of whatever’s controlling Jungkook.”

Anticipated, you wait while biting a nail. Jungkook doesn’t move an inch as Friday scans him for anything to help Tony figure out a way to help. He’s glancing from Tony to you, his eyes meeting yours. Seconds. It takes seconds from his stare meeting yours to something flicking behind his dark brown irises, something inside of him snapping like the tips of someone’s fingers. Your eyes widen in panic as you move to stand between Tony and Jungkook.

“Tony!” You shout, moving fast as you try to get in between the two men. Tony has already activated his iron hand, catching Jungkook’s silver fist right before it hits him square in the face. You come to a halt, staring in surprise as Tony tightens his hold on Jungkook’s fist, forcing him to the ground. “Tony, please, don’t hurt him. He’s not in his right mind!”

“Oh, really?” Tony scoffs, sarcasm dripping from each word. A small yelp leaves your mouth as Tony kicks his knee up under Jungkook’s jaw, knocking him out. Jungkook falls limp to the floor, eyes closed as he’s kicked unconscious by Tony. You kneel down beside him, brushing his long strands of hair out of his face. He looks peaceful as he lays there, completely unconscious, and yet there’s a furrowed look on his face, like he’s never free from whatever that is controlling him. You sigh deeply, head dropping as you cradle Jungkook’s hand in your own. Tony’s palm rests on your shoulder. You glance up at him. He gives you a small, reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, we’ll help him,” he tells you. You nod, knowing he spoke the truth.

“Thank you.”

The frustrated look and furrowed eyebrows are gone. He looks genuinely peaceful this time, long lashes resting on the top of his cheeks as he rests beneath the sheets on your bed. You can’t help yourself as you reach out, palm cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone in a soft caress. Hopefully you’ll have the love of your life back once he wakes up from the deep sleep Tony put him in.

You’re about to move away, retrieving your hand from his cheek just as you hear him whimper softly. Turning back to him, you watch as his lower lip begins to quiver, eyebrows furrowed tightly together. “No,” he whimpers again, head shaking in his sleep. “Please, no! Don’t!”

Worry fills you once again as you sit on the edge of the bed beside him, hands cupping his face between them. “Jungkook,” you softly call, trying your best to wake him without startling him. “Jungkook, my love, please wake up. Please!”

Startled, you gasp as his eyes shoot open, his lips parting as he gasps for air. He’s looking right into your startled, widened eyes. It takes a minute for him to realize who you are and where he is, the surroundings not seeming familiar at all, but it feels nice. The aura, the warmth and the dimmed lighting in the bedroom where he’s tucked under the sheets.

“Hey,” you breathe out as you smile, not sure what to say to him. Tony had made sure to help him, get whatever that was controlling him out of him, his head to himself now and slowly filling with memories, both good and bad ones. “How are you feeling?”

He groans as he moves to sit up. You help him straighten up, making sure he has a pillow for his back as he leans back against the head of the bed. He closes his eyes tightly together as he drops his head back, still trying to calm his erratic breathing. You sit back in the chair you had pulled to the bedside when you got here.

“I feel…” he begins, words feeling foreign on his tongue as he speaks with a croaking voice. He sighs deeply. This is a lot for his head to take in in just one day. “I feel like my head is about to explode.”

Your smile is careful as you look at him. “Makes sense,” you softly say, watching him glance at his arm only to notice the silver is still there, like he had hoped it would be gone. It’s easy to tell the arm itself is a symbol of a very dark time as he looks at it and then looks away from it. He isn’t fond of the silver arm, obviously having a love-hate relationship with it as it has given him power and strength he never had to begin with and problems he never voluntarily wanted in the first place. There’s pain in his eyes as he glances at you, shame as he cowers under your gaze.

You frown deeply. “What happened to you?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper. He closes his eyes, not really wishing to go back to those dark times where his life was saved and changed for the worse. The dark times where he became a shadow of himself and a manipulated soldier, brainwashed to take orders from others.

“I, uh, I don’t think-“ he stumbles over his words.

You place your hand over his actual hand, your thumb brushing the skin there. He glances at where you’re touching him before looking up at you. You’re hurting, it’s easy to see. It’s not your own pain though, it’s his. You’re feeling pain for him, hurting because he went through things he never should have, things where death would’ve been much less painful. You want to kiss him, kiss it all better if that was possible.

“You can tell me,” you whisper, pleading him to confide in you, to tell you what happened to him all those years ago.

He sighs deeply, turning his hand over to wrap it around yours. A rush runs through your stomach as he grips onto your hand with a hold so tight that you find yourself promising him silently that you’ll never let go again by giving his hand a small squeeze.

“They found me a few days later,” he starts, gaze focusing on the way yours and his fingers intertwine with each other like they’re meant to do it, “in the ruins of buildings. I-I wasn’t fully awake when they did, only just coming to my senses again after the explosion that was meant to kill me.”

You’re focusing on his hand in yours now, not able to look into his eyes as he tells the story of how he ended up here, 70 years later, and still looking like himself but with longer hair and impeccable strength.

“I didn’t recognize them. They wouldn’t tell me anything. They took me to this place, a bunker or something like that. There was this huge laboratory inside with equipment way ahead of its time,” he looks confused as he relives the horrifying moments, “I was placed in a chair and the next thing I know they’re sawing my arm off-“

You whimper. “Oh, god,” tears dwell in your eyes as you grip his hand tightly.

“____, I have never felt as much pain as I did that day,” he looks you straight in the eye, the pain from that day flashing over his face as he recalls it, the feeling of it. “And all I could think about while they turned me into this- this monster… was that I lied to you.”

You shake your head in denial. “No, Jungkook,” you whisper, “you couldn’t know. You couldn’t.”

He offers you a small half-smile, remorse covering his features as he reaches up with his silver hand, careful as he lets the fingertips of it brush your hair out of your face.

“I’m sorry I gave you an empty promise,” he whispers, silver fingertips brushing against the side of your face. You cover it with your own hand, letting him cup your face in the cold silver. He leans closer, hissing lightly as pain shoots up the side of his torso. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come back to you like I promised.”

“You did though,” you sigh deeply, resting your forehead against his. “You’re right here.”

He nods softly, his eyes shifting between yours.. “and I won’t leave again,” he assures you before hesitating, shrugging as he adds; “unless you want me to.”

You chuckle through the tears that had built up in your eyes. He’s smiling at you as you reach up to cup his face in your palms, brushing your thumb across his cheeks. He’s watching you, still not quite believing that you’re here with him. After so long. 70 years of wondering if you’re still alive. 70 long years of wondering where you were in the world. 70 unbearable years of longing for your touch, your soft, plump lips that made his heart stop beating for a few seconds each time they would touch his in a kiss.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he whispers into the small gap of air space between you and him. “Each time I’d return from a mission and become myself again after being under mind-control, you were the first thing on my mind. To be honest, I don’t think you ever left it. You’ve always been there with me, in the deepest parts of my consciousness. You kept me sane during the missions, kept me from forgetting myself completely.”

Listening intently, you close your eyes as your thumbs continue to brush over the skin on his cheeks. He continues, a deep sigh falling from his lips and clashing against yours causing goosebumps to rise upon your body. You’re shocked that you have gone this far without smothering him in kisses. You don’t want to risk anything, waiting patiently for him to make the first move in the direction of more physical affection, whether it’s a touch of his hand, a hug or more.

“And when I realized it was you earlier today...” his voice cracks, “when I realized I almost killed you- I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for that.”

“You can and you will,” you softly tell him, the undertone of your voice stern, “you didn’t kill me. You wouldn’t. You were gonna recognize me sooner or later.”

He exhales shakily. “You don’t know that,” he almost snaps, eyes closed tightly as he drops his silver hand from your face. He pulls away from your touch, the warmth of him disappearing the further he moves away. He’s not looking at you. Tears are threatening to spill as you stare back at him, lips slightly parted as you want to speak up. You want to tell him he’s wrong, but you already know that he will not take your words for what they are. He, and you, know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t pushed him off when you did.

“You’re right,” you say, catching his attention again. He barely glances at you, noticing the small remnants of tears in your eyes before looking back at his silver hand, clenching and unclenching it. A tear rolls down your cheek. “You’re so right, Jungkook. I don’t know if you would or not.”

You get up from the chair you’ve been sitting in since you brought him back to your apartment. Jungkook still refuses to look at you as you move onto the bed, crawling closer to him. You don’t hesitate as you lay a hand on his shoulder and throw a leg over his to straddle his lap. He finally looks at you, eyes slightly widened at your actions. His eyes meet teary ones again, his silver arm moving out of an old habit as he reaches up to wipe your tears away.

“But I like to think you would.”

Your lips press against his before he can reply to your words. Jungkook gasps and then grunts in response as you press your mouth to his, desperately and needy. His body freezes beneath you as you kiss him, tasting his lips for the first time in an unbearably long time. It takes him a while to realize that you’re kissing him, finally kissing you back as he cradles you in his arms, pulling you closer to his chest. The silver arm keeps a tight grip around your waist, holding you in place as the other runs up your thigh.

Pulling away, you gasp for air, letting your forehead rest against his. Jungkook is breathing heavily, his breath once again clashing against yours as you both catch your breath. Your eyes meet, seconds after he’s kissing you again, your tank top riding up as the silver arm keeps you tight against him. The silver touching your skin causes goosebumps to cover your skin, a chill running up your spine as you cup his face. His tongue licks against your bottom lip, you let him in. A moan escapes your lips as his tongue touches yours.

“I’ve been holding myself back ever since you woke up,” you whisper against his lips, making him smile as his hands slide under your top, pushing it up before pulling it over your head completely. You return to his lips, catching them with your own as you reach for the hem of his t-shirt. He helps you pull it off, your mind elsewhere as you throw it onto the floor. Your hands rake down his body, over the tensing muscles of his abdomen as he moves his kisses down your cheek and further under your jaw. Your breathing is ragged as you pull away, only a few inches so you can glance down at his torso. The sight horrifies you, your fingertips brushing over scars and healed wounds.

“Oh my god,” you whisper as you glance up at Jungkook, his eyes meeting yours for a few seconds before you look back at his chest. Your eyes wander, over his both small and larger scars to his silver arm. You feel your heart tightening as you take in the way the silver arm is sewed onto his body. You hesitate to reach up, Jungkook’s eyes on you as you let your shaking fingertips brush over the burned, scarred skin that keeps the silver arm attached. “I- This…”

His human hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your skin. “I know,” he agrees without hearing the rest of the sentence. You look back at him, finding relief in his eyes as you rest your palms against his chest. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he then says.

“They literally cut off your arm,” you point out, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t even imagine how much pain he must’ve been in when they did this to him. “I wish I could have spared you this pain, spared you the torture you went through.”

He smiles softly. “I know, ____. But there's no way you possibly could’ve.”

You're carefully running your pointer finger along one of his scars when you look up at him, eyelashes framing your eyes so perfectly. He thinks you’re absolutely beautiful, even more so than the last time he saw you. You can’t do anything to stop the words that tumble from your lips next.

“I love you so much, Jungkook.”

His breathing stops for a second, his heart skipping a beat. He hasn’t heard those words since 1944. He didn’t even hear those words that morning you had sent him off, he hadn’t said those words when he promised to return. He should have. That way you’d never be in doubt of his love. He wonders if you’ve loved him since or if there has been anyone else in the meantime to love you the way he should’ve.

Silently, you watch him as his thoughts run one hundred miles per hour. Your palms are sliding from his chest to his shoulders and further up his neck to cup his face again. The love he feels is evident in his eyes as he focuses on you.

“I love you,” he whispers, carefully turning you over onto your back only for him to hover over you. You’re watching him, tingling in your stomach as you hear the words fall from his lips. He returns to kissing you, kissing the skin on your cheek, your neck and further down to the very top of your chest, right beneath the collarbones. He glances up at you as he kisses his way down the valley of your bra-covered chest. “I didn’t say it enough back then,” he mouths against your skin, another round of goosebumps rising beneath his lips, “I should have said it more. I’m sorry.”

You exhale deeply, arching your back into his touch as he reaches your navel and moves even further down to the waistband of your pants, your spandex pants that you so elegantly wear whenever you have a mission with the Avengers.

“Stop apologizing,” you breathe out, eyes closed as you succumb to his touch. The silver hand brushes over your stomach as it runs up to your chest, unclasping your bra on the front. It falls to the sides, revealing your perky nipples to the crisp air. You gasp softly as a silver hand brushes over both, the cold steel doing nothing but erecting them even more. “I've always hated it when you apologize.”

He smirks softly against your lower stomach, pressing one last kiss to the skin there before pulling the silver hand down to pull off your pants, and panties too. The pants are barely on the floor before he returns to your lower abdomen, kisses being spread across your hip bones and pubic bone. You reach down to tangle your fingers in his long hair as he runs his hands up the inside of your thighs. He spreads your legs, revealing your throbbing core to him.

“God, I missed this,” he breathed out, the air of his words hitting your wet folds. “Having you like this, all to myself.”

You whine from above him. “Jungkook,” you whimper, “please.”

It doesn’t take more for him to lean closer, tongue licking a stripe up between your folds and to your clit, his silver arm sliding across your abdomen to keep you down as he eats you out for the first time in decades. One would think he had lost his touch and knowledge of a woman’s body, but you can say that he certainly didn’t as he roots himself between your legs, tongue licking your wetness and prodding at the entrance.

“Oh god,” you moan, softly gasping for air as his human hand rests on top of your one thigh, fingers digging into the flesh there. You’re in heaven, on the ninth cloud as he slurps your arousal, licking your folds and clit as if his life depended on it. “Fuck, Jungkook!”

The sound of your name toppling from your lips as he hits a certain nerve makes his body flush with a warmth he almost forgot what feels like. You’re writhing in the tight hold of his silver arm, squirming as he licks you to your release. The orgasm is approaching fast and hard, Jungkook being the sole reason for it. No one could ever get you there as fast as him.

“I’m s-so close- oh!,” you pant, your walls clenching as Jungkook’s actual fingers slide into you. He pumps his hand in and out of you in a pace that is perfectly building up your orgasm. He takes nothing but a glance into his eyes as he leans down to softly kiss your clit that you’re toppling over, hitting the wall of your orgasm. “J-jungkook, my god!”

You jerk away as he leans forward, tongue licking up your release, tasting it on his taste buds. He hums with a small smile as he glances up at you, loving the way your eyes are almost bulging out of your head at the sight of him between your thighs. It takes nothing more than a few seconds before you shitting up, Jungkook meeting you halfway in a kiss. Tongues clash against each other, the taste of you on his tongue as he kisses you deeply, needingly.

“Please fuck me,” you mumble in between kisses, a desperate whining tone attached to your words. “Make love to me, Jungkook.”

He seals your words with a kiss, giving you a silent promise of doing just that. As if he’d lick you out and that would be it. No way.

You watch, teeth biting into your bottom lip, as he gets off the bed to remove the sweatpants you had dressed him in when you got back, getting him out of those military pants with belts and buckles all over them. His cock springs free, slaps against his abdomen as it stands proud into the air. A rush runs through your stomach at the sight, mouth slightly watering. Once the sweatpants and his boxers lie on the floor by his feet, he crawls back onto the bed. He moves closer, pushing you back onto your back as he hovers over you. You’re glancing at his silver arm for a mere split second, your hair reaching up to run along the hard edges of it. Jungkook can’t feel your touch but he’d like to imagine that he can as he watches your palm brushing over and further up to the nape of his neck. His eyes move back to lock with yours. You’re looking at him just like you did that last night of intimacy you had back in 1944, the night before he was sent off on a deathly mission. A huge wave of emotions hits him as he glances from your eyes to your lips and back again.

“I love you,” he softly says, eyebrows furrowed together as he looks at you, “so much, ____.”

You smile, pulling him down to meet you in a kiss. The kisses are soft, tender even as he reaches down to line himself up with your entrance. You gasp into his mouth as the tip of his cock prods at your folds. A hand of yours tangles back into his locks as he pushes inside, the tightness overwhelming for the both of you. He rests his forehead against yours, your breaths clashing together between you as he buries himself to the hilt.

“Shit,” he hisses, glancing down at your connecting hips. “Can i move?”

You nod your head, whispering, “yes.”

Jungkook watches the way your eyes roll to the back of your head as he pulls out and pushes back in, the sight causing him to do it again and again, wanting to see you lose yourself and succumb to the feeling of his cock brushing against your walls.

“Oh fuck!” You gasp as he gives you a particularly hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin as he hits that exact spot that makes you whimper out a soft, whiny moan. You’re clawing at his shoulders, his neck and chest as he sets a rhythm, keeping it steady as he grinds into you. He grabs your leg with his silver hand, helping you to wrap it around his waist. The other follows suit, locking with your other behind his back. He hits deep inside of you, his veiny cock sliding against your walls so deliciously.

It’s like that last night you had with him all over again just with more longing and more desperate kisses. Your stomach tingles with the overwhelming amount of emotions you’re feeling in this exact moment as you look up at him – his long hair slightly damp at the roots, his toned chest glistening in sweat as he works you both to a release, to a high you’re both so desperately in the need of.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans as you unawarely clench around his length, his head dropping to your shoulder. “Don’t do that or I’ll cum right now.”

“Sorry!” You squeak, chuckling as he eyes you with a small smirk. God, you wanna ride him so badly. “Oh, Jungkook,” you moan breathily as he hits your spot again. He’s watching you, eyes running over your face as it contorts in pure pleasure.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he grunts, leaning up on his hands to get a better angle. He rams his hips into you, his strength coming to show as he thrusts into you harder than ever before. The power of his thrusts have you seeing stars as your second orgasm nears you. Jungkook can feel it as you clinch repeatedly around him. He won’t last much longer if you continue to do that.

High pitched moans tumble from your parted lips as he speeds up his movements, desperately trying to get you over the edge before he topples over himself. Your nails are digging into his shoulders as you reach your high, the orgasm hitting you like a bullet.

“Oh my fucking god,” you moan, breathing ragged as he continues to fuck you to get himself to cum. His breathing is uneven, not matching his thrusts as all as he moves in and out a few more times before stilling inside of you, spilling his load and painting your walls inside.

“Fuck, I love you,” he breathes out as he drops his forehead to your collarbone. You’re smiling widely as you run your fingers from his shoulders and up into his hair. He lifts his head to look at you as you push his long, brown hair out of his face. You know him too well when he gives you a look, a small smirk on his lips. A joke is coming. You can just feel it. And you can’t help but grin at him as everything feels exactly like 1944 again. Also, you want to punch him for his next words:

“Not too bad for a 98-year-old, huh?”

all rights reserved © mercurygguk (with help from marvel studios *wink* )