#oneshots

[starsmanutd]

how did i get here?

A lot of angst,

description, you are at (your best friend) Kylian's wedding and can't help but regret not telling him how you feel.

You were sitting at the wedding reception, trying to wrap your head around what had gone wrong. In all these years, you couldn't pluck up the courage to admit you had made a mistake; you were too stubborn to give in and be happy. You had no one to blame but yourself.

He was right there; you could see him; it was as if the lighting in the room knew he was the centre of your attention, casting a golden halo around him. He looked so beautiful in his suit. He was beautiful.

"A beautiful reception, isn't it?" the words broke you from your thoughts, and you turned to look over at your date. You gave him a small smile, but it didn't stay on your face long. It felt too unnatural and false, and you had spent the entire day making sure your face gave none of the internal struggles you had been facing since the engagement had been announced.

You turned to look at the spot where Kylian had been but found it empty, your shoulders slumped slightly, and you leaned back in your chair, picking up your wine glass. But then a warm hand gently places itself on the bare skin of your shoulder, and your body immediately reacts to it.

"y/n." Kylian smiled down at you, it was a little crooked, and his eyes were slightly drooping, and you could tell he had already drunk a little too much.

"This day has been so beautiful." You smile back up at him, and you can't hide the shakiness in your voice. His eyes scan your face momentarily as though he didn't hear what you said.

"I was just about to leave. I think I've tired myself out with the dancing." You let out a little laugh, knowing full well that you were lying. You hadn't moved from your table since the reception had started unless it was to get yourself a drink. You felt bad for your date, you hadn't engaged in many conversations either, feeling too sad to talk.

"Oh, ok….let me walk the both of you out." His face seemed strained as he watched you grab your bag and stand up.

"It's honestly ok. We can see ourselves out." You smiled politely as you entwined your fingers with your date. He seemed to sense the awkwardness of the conversation and gave your cold hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Please," Kylian whispered, looking into your eyes, and you only nodded in response.

As the three of you made your way through the crowd and out of the room, you felt a sense of calmness wash over you; the loud music and the large crowds did nothing to help with your anxiety the whole night.

"It looks like it's raining. I'll get the car, so you don't get your dress wet." Your date said, kissing your hand and letting it go before walking out into the downpour.

"He seems nice," Kylian spoke from beside you in an unfamiliar tone. Was he angry? Upset?

"He is." You say, smiling to yourself. He was kind, and you had been seeing each other on and off for the past few months. Still, it was complicated, and you hadn't fully committed to the possibility of a relationship. You couldn't, not when you were still pining over someone else.

The cold gust of wind sweeping into the foyer made you shiver. Kylian stepped closer to you, raising his hand but immediately dropping it as a car pulled up and beeped. You recognised it immediately.

"It was a beautiful day, Kylian. I wish you both a healthy marriage." You said as you kissed both of his cheeks goodbye.

You turned to leave, but his warm hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you. You didn't turn to face him, but you could hear his exhale of breath….he was so close.

"You know, I always thought it would end up being us two. That it would be you." He whispered; you closed your eyes, stopping the tears before they began to form.

"You're drunk, Ky," You said softly, still not having the courage to face him.

"Maybe." He said and let go of your arm and stepped back. You didn't look back as you ran into the rain to the open car door. Only when you had sat down and closed the door did you look back up to Kylian's retreating form, his shoulders hunched over.

[bluujai]

Work Friends (Part 1/3) - Sub!Patrick Bateman x Dom!Male!Reader

A/N: Since people wanted more Sub!Patrick smut, as and you shall receive my friends! This will be 3 parts! DNI if you are underaged!! Reblogs and follows are always appreciated to help get my work across to as many people as possible! Enjoy~~

TW: Blowjob, degradation, praise teasing, choking, swearing, slight homophobia, drunk sex (so slight dub-con), no use of Y/N

"Alright Bateman, you ready?"

"Yep. Let's go."

Patrick had agreed to dinner with you, one of the heads of Pierce & Pierce. For work purposes, obviously. To talk about trades, you weren't sure. He was surprised that you didn't mistake him for Halberstram or Allen, or whoever. His ego was slightly hurt when he saw you in all your glory. Smug face, Oliver's People glasses, slick hair, and a ridiculously expensive Brioni suit. As you both walked out of the P & P lobby, he admired your confident walk.

"Hey Susan, baby, I love that skirt." You clicked your teeth at a blonde woman and she smiled. Patrick clenched his jaw and swore internally. Why did he agree to this?

A violent storm was raging outside, lighting and thunder ever-present. Patrick opened his black umbrella and so did you.

You hailed a cab and rode quietly to the restaurant.

"What place did you say this was again?" Patrick asked monotonously.

You grinned.

"Dorsia. I know the guy who owns it and gave us not a table, but a booth."

"Oh. I see. Very nice."

Patrick smiled politely, but inside he was boiling. How did you manage to get a reservation at Dorsia at a booth at 8PM?

The rest of the cab ride was silent.

-~-~-~-

"Thank you so much. Here, keep the change." You handed the driver a twenty. Both of you got out and re-opened your umbrellas.

As you walked into the oak doors of Dorsia, Patrick stewed in his jealous rage. You put your umbrellas on a little rack. The maître d' lead you to your booth and took your coats. The booth was elegant and minimalist. It was in a more secluded and private area of the restaurant. You and Patrick sat down facing opposite each other. You shifted uncomfortably while Patrick stared at you coldly.

"What did you want to talk to me about that I needed to make a reservation at Dorsia for, Bateman?"

Patrick swallowed. What did he want to talk about? He must've had a reason, surely.

"N-nothing. Just... Wanted to get to know you better."

You blinked dumbly.

"So... Like a date?"

Patrick had to do a double-take.

"Wh-what? No, no of course not. I'm not, like, one of those queers..." He muttered. After a moment, you laughed.

"Why would you be? You, of all people! Gay? You're too good for that, Bateman! Besides, I was just kidding."

This praise (albeit homophobic), made Patrick's chest tingle.

"Let's, uh, rein in the homophobic comments a little, then." Patrick chuckled.

He loosened up a little after that. You both talked and laughed like old friends drink after drink. Patrick finally felt... human. Real. Both of you had lost all sense of time, whiskey buzzing in your veins. Soon, the same maître d' came to your booth.

"Gentlemen, I am so sorry to bother you but I'm afraid it's closing time. I must ask you to leave. Here is your check."

"Has it really been that long? Thanks, darling. Here's my card." You handed her a golden credit card. Patrick gulped slightly drunkenly.

"No, no, I can't let you pay by yourself. Here take mine t-"

"No, please. I can take this, Bateman." You put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. Patrick looked at you and stopped.

After you paid the immense bill and tipped the maître d' $50 (Patrick swore under his breath), you left Dorsia.

The sky was dark now but it was still raining. You opened your umbrella and Patrick was about to do the same when he realized.

Fuck.

He forgot his umbrella inside.

Patrick turned around abruptly towards the oak doors just to find it to be locked and the lights turned off inside. He would have to retrieve it tomorrow, it seemed. As he turned away from the door, he observed the rain. It was pouring down in thick droplets, almost creating a wall of rain.

"Everything alright, Bateman?"

Now he realized, he would have to share an umbrella with you. He wasn't about to risk dampening and ruining his Valentino suit and coiffed hair.

"I left my umbrella inside and now they're closed. How clumsy of me. Do you... mind if I share with you?" Patrick asked, almost timidly. His heartbeat quickened. What was happening to him? You thought for a moment.

"Of course Bateman! My pleasure. Wouldn't want you to ruin that perfect outfit of yours!" You chuckled and motioned him over.

Patrick hurriedly joined you under the umbrella. Both of you were quite tall, so it was cramped. Your shoulders constantly brushed upon each other and so did your hands. Patrick looked toward the street emotionlessly, to avoid any awkward eye contact.

The streets were empty at this time of night so it was impossible to hail a cab. After about 20 minutes of waiting and shuffling around you piped up.

"Hey, you don't live very far right? I'll walk you to your apartment. The American Gardens building on-"

"55 West 81st street, yes."

Patrick answered hurriedly. All of this contact with his upperclassman was driving him crazy for some reason. Bloodlust or sexual attraction, he wasn't sure. It was infuriating, everything about you. He wasn't gay, right?

It must be the alcohol. It must be. God, I shouldn't have drank that much. Patrick cursed himself.

As you both walked down the street in the rain in silence, Patrick was dying on the inside as every step he took caused your shoulder to brush against his.

"Patrick." He broke the silence after a while.

"What?"

"Call me Patrick. I think we're past a last-name basis now."

"Alright, Patrick."

The way you said his name sparked something in him. The way it so easily fell from your soft lips. It was perfect.

Patrick bathed in the thought of you saying his name over and over again until both of you reached his apartment.

"Okay, we're here, Patrick. You've been a real laugh tonight. We should do this again some other time!" You stood opposite of him in front of the iron doors of his apartment building.

"Yes. We... should." Patrick gulped.

"Why so hesitant, Patrick?" You smiled that smug smile of yours, eyes shining under the yellow street lights.

He snapped.

"Listen, I don't know what kind of game you're playing here. You are just so irritatingly charming, polite, and handsome! And that smile... That smile! What are you doing to me?! Why?! You've been driving me insane this entire night with your... your... charms!"

You stood there, dumbfounded. So did he.

"You think... I'm charming, polite, and handsome?"

Patrick stopped.

"Y-yes..."

"I thought you weren't 'one of those queers'."

"I'm not! It's just-it's just... you! Or the... or the damn whiskey we drank tonight!"

"You and I both know it's not the whiskey, Patrick."

His breath hitched in his throat.

"I think... you're attracted to me."

You took a step towards him, faces now inches away. Patrick could feel your whiskey-scented breath against his nose.

"Can I kiss you, Patrick?"

He stayed silent, face emotionless.

"Say my name again." He breathed out finally.

"Patrick..." You whispered.

"Again."

"Patrick..." You whispered again, now barely audible.

Patrick smashed his lips against yours, letting out a deep moan. Teeth clashed and tongues danced together. Your hands fell to his back as he reached for your neck. As he got closer and closer to your hair, you grabbed his. He moaned shamelessly as you ruined his hair.

"You don't get to touch me without my permission, got it?" You said forcefully.

"Y-yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes... sir..."

"Sir... I like that. Come, let's go upstairs."

You let Patrick lead you to his apartment, lips locking again as you entered the apartment. It was plain white and very minimalistic with barely any decoration. You lead him to the bedroom and threw him onto Patrick's king-sized bed.

"On your knees. Sit."

He scrambled onto his knees eagerly. You slowly started to undress. It was excruciatingly slow. First your yellow tie, then your pale blue blouse, then your belt, navy blue pants, undershirt, then finally your boxers.

You stood in front of him, bare.

Patrick admired how your tanned muscles rippled with every move. Your toned abs and that ridiculously large dick of yours. It was hard and easily about 8 inches long. He almost drooled at the sight.

You brought your dick to his face.

"Suck it." You pushed it to his lips. He refused to part them.

Inside, he was contemplating whether or not to do it. This wasn't like him, to be submissive to another person, let alone a man.

"C'mon now... Don't be bratty..." Your voice was laced with poison. It was a warning and Patrick decided that it would be better to listen.

He hesitantly parted his lips and gave a few kitten licks to the tip. You groaned. Eager to get more sounds out of you, he took the tip into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it. You sighed happily as he took your full length into his mouth, sucking and licking.

"Look at you, Patrick... So beautiful and sweaty around my cock... God..."

Your praise made him whine in pleasure as he bobbed his head, saliva dripping down his chin.

Patrick tried to sneak his hand down to his cock but before he could touch it, you grabbed his wrist.

"I already warned you once, Bateman. Now I'll have to punish you." You snarled menacingly.

The use of his last name hurt Patrick.

"I'm sorry sir! Please forgive me! I won't ever do it again, I won't! Please, sir!" He begged, grabbing your thighs. You looked down, unimpressed with his apology.

"That won't work this time, slut. You'll pay for it this time."

He grabbed Patrick by the throat and pushed him down into the bed, choking him. Patrick gasped for air as he clawed at your iron grip. His vision grew blurry with tears. You attacked his neck with bites and sucking. He moaned loudly.

"AGH! Please, s-sir! More!~~"

You groaned as you pulled his clothes off blindly. As soon as he was naked, you pushed him down into the bed by his neck. Patrick sputtered and coughed.

"Now Bateman, I'm going to fuck you until you break."

What had he gotten himself into?

[poguesworld]

GOLF + ITS PERKS — RAFE CAMERON

summary: your boyfriend, rafe, finally convinces you to tag along with him on his golf day, and you never would’ve thought there would be so many benefits.

warnings: cat calling (boys whistling??), rafe’s dirty mouth, smut, teasing, choking, slight daddy kink, talk of cum?? spanking, extreme domination, my lack of golf knowledge

-

“babe, c’mon, it’ll be fun.”

“rafe, no. stop asking.”

for the 3rd sunday in a row, rafe was trying to convince you to come play golf with him. you were somewhat familiar with the sport, just like every other kid growing up on figure eight, but you knew that golfing with rafe could only end badly, due to his skill at the sport. or, more so, his cockiness about his skill. you knew he wouldn’t hesitate to correct you on your wrong doings, and you knew it would end it his dick being pressed up against your ass as he pretended to teach you how to swing the club.

however, you didn’t necessarily mind.

eventually, his begging got to you and you found yourself perched in the seat next to him on the golf cart as you two rode to your tee. of course, rafe being rafe, convinced you to wear your shortest golf skirt and your tightest tank top, leaving you shivering at every wind gust and rushing to keep your skirt down. a sight he would never get tired of.

-

almost 2 hours had passed, and you were fed up with golfing. just as you had thought, your entire time was spent with rafe correcting you, or pretending to correct you. all he was doing was subtly grinding into you whilst whispering directions that made no sense to you into your ear. but of course you let him, because who were you to deny your hot boyfriend to be pressed up against you, basically dry humping you in front of all the old men who tried to stare up your skirt while golfing?

“rafe, can we please go in and eat or something, my legs hurt, i’m hungry, and this is boring.” you whined, hoping he would put the damn club down for 5 seconds and hear you out.

“fine, but the second we’re done eating, we’re going back out there and i’m teaching you a one-plane swing.” he chuckled back at you, taking your hand and leading you inside the club.

-

as soon as you entered, the bartender greeted you and found you and rafe a seat, knowing that rafe has very little patience. as she showed you to your table, you were met with a group of teenage boys, whistling at you. you knew it was because of your attire, and you silently cursed rafe for choosing to dress you like a hooker.

all you could do was look back and giggle, hoping you got a rise out of the immature boys so they would leave you alone, but rafe was not having it.

“what the fuck, did they just whistle at you?” he grumbled, eyeing the boys suspiciously. “rafe, it’s fine, let’s just eat.” you whispered back, not wanting to draw attention to the two of you. “fine, but if it happens again i’m bending you over their table and fu-“ he was cut off by the waitress greeting the two of you. all you could do was sigh and stifle a laugh, hoping, no, praying she hadn’t heard his dirty mouth.

-

after the two of you finished eating, you went straight back out to the course. rafe was determined to teach you all these stupid fucking swings when all you wanted to do was go home and sleep. but, you tried to suck it up because you knew it would make him happy. it was also an excuse to have him pressed up against you.

“okay baby so first you’re gonna wanna — stop.” he grumbled, feeling you press your ass into him. “stop what?” you looked over your shoulder and up at him with innocent eyes, and he felt his cheeks grow warm and his dick grow hard. “you know what.” he whispered, going back to explaining the pitch he wanted you to learn. but you were relentless, continuing to subtly grind against him as he demonstrated the swing. “keep doing that and i’m gonna cum in my pants, baby.” he groaned, feeling his cock leak pre-cum from your actions. you giggled innocently, blinking up at him.

that was when rafe cameron decided he’d had just about enough. he dropped the club, sighing heavily and dragging you by the arm to the truck parked a few steps away. all you could do was follow him and feel your adrenaline grow higher, knowing what was gonna happen. as you neared the truck, you both were getting more eager by the second. you could tell your boyfriend was getting impatient as he sped up his steps to get there faster.

he pressed you up against the truck door, staring down at you as you blinked up at him. “you think that shit’s funny, huh? teasing me in public like that. you’re lucky i didn’t go through with what i said earlier.” you blushed thinking about his previous promise, knowing you were getting bent over either way. “i’m sorry, daddy.” you cooed, knowing it would rile him up further. “oh, you’re gonna be sorry, get in the truck.” he said, but you had no time to react as he yanked the back door open and shoved you into the back. he wasted no time in slamming the door shut, quickly climbing on top of you.

you leaned up and pressed your lips into his, moaning into his mouth as you felt his hand constrict around your throat. you were both quick to strip yourselves of your clothes as you made out, rafe groaning as he rubbed your wetness onto the tip of his cock. he flipped you over, pressing your head into the seat. “this is what happens when you’re naughty, baby. count for me.” he said, before slapping your ass twice and pushing his cock into you. you pushed back onto him, moaning as you felt him all over, even in what felt like your stomach. “uh uh, baby. you don’t get to do that, i’m in control. and i said count.” he growled, slapping your ass hard. “fuck, rafe, one.” you groaned, feeling the stinging sensation spread throughout your ass cheek.

after what felt like an eternity, which really was only 10 hits, rafe stopped and flipped you over. “did so good for me baby, we’re all done. you want a reward now?” rafe cooed softly, wiping the tears forming under your eyes. “y-yes, please.” you said, pouting up at him. he kissed you softly, pushing into you. you moaned into his mouth, bucking your hips against his to feel more. he fucked you at an even pace, hips never faltering for a second. all you felt was pure euphoria. “that feel good, baby?” rafe asked, smirking at the way your head was thrown back, and you were moaning uncontrollably. “yes, so good, rafe,” you cried. he continued to slam his hips into yours, and you were sure you would have bruises tomorrow. he brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing it in circles to get you close. he loved the sound of your moans, each one boosting his ego more and more.

“rafe, i’m s-so close. please, don’t stop.” you cried, rutting your hips against him. “trust me baby, i’m not stopping. i’m close too.” he groaned in your ear, his hips stuttering. you came with a loud cry, pulsing around his cock. he tried to hold out to ride out your high, but with the way you were tightening around him he couldn’t hold it. he came with a groan, collapsing on top of you. you moaned and looked down at where the two of you were connected, feeling his cum rush into you and leak out onto the seat.

“well shit, i guess golf really does have its perks,” you giggled.

—

my first one shot in a longgggg time! i hope you enjoyed ♡

tags:

[celesteleoves]

“I LIKE YOU.”

ೃ࿐ bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

warnings: insecurities briefly mentioned, fluff all around otherwise!

summary: katsuki has liked you for a very long time but doesn’t know what to do about these bundled up feelings, luckily kirishima is here to save the day!

-

katsuki could never say it out loud, in fear he would be taunted by his fellow classmates. although he wanted to shout and crow about how beautiful you were.

in all honesty, he wouldn’t actually do it. his reputation as a mean and gruff boy could not be ruined. he hated and loved how nobody looked his way in fear for a while. until, you punched your way into his life in his second year of middle school, literally. you had punched him in second grade for taunting izuku midoriya. he shut up around you after that.

now in U.A, he still cannot shake your kind face and light personality away from him. you had grown on him and you practically cling to him like he’s a toy that you cherish more than yourself. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it though.

“come on bakugou, be a man!” kirishima shook his best friends shoulder as he grumbled in response.

“I AM A MAN!” he growled at the red head who winced at his loud voice. currently, kirishima was trying to convince katsuki to ask you out.

“then do it!”

“NO!”

katsuki could feel his entire body heating up when he heard your voice, cheerfully laughing away with the 1A girls about your phone case that had bakugou and your family in a polaroid picture beneath the clear case. you had the impact on him to make his entire body burn, in a good way.

“bakugou looks so angry! he’s almost rolling his eyes.” ochako gasped as she pointed at him in the picture while the other girls silently agreed and said he, ‘made the picture glum with his scowl’

“oh stop, he looks great.” you protested as you fixed your posture in your seat, “in my opinion, he actually looks happy even if he isn’t smiling! you can tell by how his eyes slightly squint and do you see the shine in them too?” you rambled as the girls gave each other glances with small smirks on their faces.

you stopped talking as you noticed how quiet they had gotten. your face felt flushed as you covered it with your hands while the girls snickered.

“yeah, tell me you don’t like him again?” jirou let out a chuckle at your desperate, stuttering attempts to prove her wrong.

“i think he likes her too, don’t you? although, y/n i think you deserve someone who won’t call you names and try to kill you.” momo placed her hand on your shoulder very delicately.

your eyebrows furrowed at her remark. katsuki would never do anything to harm you unless it was during training and you two had to fight. while others weren’t looking, katsuki was actually the most attentive, gentle, and the sweetest boy you had ever met. he always listened to your rambles and never once interrupted. he was so perfect to you which is why you can’t help the heat that is brought to your face at the mention of him.

while you thought katsuki bakugou was perfect, he thought the opposite. he thought he was very rough around you, too stoic, too… him.

kirishima looked at bakugou as they sat not too far away from the group of girls. kirishima and bakugou were sitting at a table with a few of the other boys, who were in their own conversation or were in the kitchen.

kirishima noticed bakugous eyes drift to his scarred hands, picking at his skin with a small frown on his face. this frown was different from the one he normally held upon his lips, this one was formed due to doubt. eijirou could tell and he was NOT going to let his friend feel that way about himself ever.

“hey, katsuki. let’s go to the store and get y/n something! so you can finally confess to her.” he grabbed his arm and tugged him out of his seat as they made their way out of the dorms while telling the others and began rushing to the store. bakugou was so caught off guard he couldn’t say anything as he followed kirishima mindlessly before realizing.

“hah? WHAT ARE YOU DOING SHITTY HAIR I SAID I WASNT GOING TO CONFESS TO HER!” he growled but even though he said the opposite, he still followed kirishima who had a shit eating grin on his face.

“then why are you still following me?”

bakugou went quiet and kicked at the ground as they reached a nearby store.

he pushed past kirishima, grabbing your favourite snacks and drinks while kirishima confidently went over to the flower section.

katsuki came back to find eijirou holding a bouquet of flowers but they weren’t your favourites. katsuki growled and picked up your favourite flowers while kirishima stood there in awe with how bakugou could remember your favourite flower off the top of his head. man, he really was in love!

they payed for everything as kirishima filled with excitement. there was no doubt you would say yes now! he just knew it!

_

by the time they arrived to the dorms, it was almost completely dark outside. if mr. aizawa saw them sneaking inside the dorms this late he would surely lose his mind.

thankfully, nobody caught the two boys as they quickly went into kirishimas dorm room and prepared the gift. then, they made it to your dorm.

kirishima walked him to your dorm, spouting words of encouragement and hyping him up. kirishima knocked on the door but then ran off, leaving bakugou standing there with your gift in hand.

“GOOD LUCK BRO! YOU’RE THE MAN!”

“YOU BASTAR-” katsuki went to scream but was cut off when you opened your door with a confused look on your face that shifted to a happy one when you saw katsuki.

“kats! i haven’t seen you all day.” you scanned his features as you spoke, noticing his wide eyes and pink covered cheeks as you tilted your head in confusion.

you looked down at his hands that held a bouquet of flowers, candy and drinks and a stuffed animal that you had been wanting for weeks. what caught your eyes were that these were all your favourite things.

a feeling of nervousness and giddiness spread across your face as he spoke.

“i noticed you liked that stupid toy, so um, i got it for you.” you picked up the gifts and quickly walked into your dorm room. placing the bundle of items on your desk and opening the card that held thoughtful words in it and a “i like you, y/n”. you walked over to katsuki who stood in your doorway rocking back and forth on his feet nervously.

he went to back up as you said nothing but he had no time to react as you stood on your toes and kissed his cheek before quickly pulling away, hugging him and hiding your flushed face in his chest.

he wrapped his arms around your frame as a huge grin made its way onto his face. his mouth felt dry and his ears were practically steaming as you pulled back to see his face.

“i like you too, katsuki.” a smile that he wished to see everyday was spread on your lips as you happily looked at him with adoration.

he’s totally going to buy kirishima a thousand crimson riot shirts for this.

——————————————————————————

a/n: here’s little fluffy oneshot for our pookie katsuki. please message me if you have any issues with this or see any spelling errors!! ily. i was really doubtful about posting this so i hope you enjoy 🥹🥹.

[sprout-fics]

request for ghost 👀 ghost x medic!reader that is basically the opposite of him. super gentle and docile, they’re the sunshine of the team (affectionately named by Soap). ghost is infatuated but refuses to believe someone as good hearted as them could ever be interested in him. like he feels like he’s not good enough for reader but reader is scared of rejection so they also don’t say anything. basically two idiots in love pining for each other

Sunshine (Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN! Reader)

Rating: M

Word Count: 2.5 k

Warnings: Explicit mention of murder, blood, and injuries, I have not played any of the games so if Ghost is OOC then shoot me I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Summary:

“Sunshine” They called you. It was a bit of a misnomer, all things considered. While your sweet, gentle personality was quietly adored off the field, your laser focus and scorching gaze locked that part of you away on mission. Soap had teased you once in the early days as you stitched his arm in a safehouse, saying you had the sweetest, gentlest touch on a medic he’d ever felt.

“Feels like fuckin’ sunshine, corporal.” He slurred, heavy off painkillers as you tended to the bullet in his shoulder. “Best hands I’ve ever had on me.”

You had given him a sharp pinch for the innuendo, but the nickname had stuck anyways.

It had taken some time to earn the trust of the group. They had been burned one too many times to take in a new member without a healthy amount of suspicion. It was only after you had managed to patch them up half a dozen times each that they grew accustomed to your steady, reaffirming presence.

Most of them, at least.

Ghost was a quiet one, living up to his name as he lingered in the shadows, haunting like a specter at the corner of every scene. When he spoke, it was only to issue orders, to patch into the comms and relay intel. Like a wraith, his broad form occupied the corner of your mind, his voice a rough hard scrape like soot against your fingertips. His eyes watched you from afar, deadly, precise, ever true to his aim.

You never see his face.

“Don’t worry, he’s just got a bad chin.” Soap whispers conspiratorially to you as you both lay low over a rooftop that looks over your target. “Like one of those goddamn Hapsburg royals.”

“I doubt that.” You snort, eyes never leaving your scope.

Still, you do wonder sometimes. You can’t help it. There’s something inside you that gravitates towards him like being pulled in by a black hole. The very presence of him draws your eyes to his, dark, unflinching, cold. Sometimes you feel like he can see straight through you, as transparent as a phantom.

“Sunshine, on me.” He barks, and damn if you two don’t make quite the duo- bright sunlight and a dead man walking.

The only times you get glimpses of him are when he’s injured, which is rare. You pull up his sleeve to reveal his forearm, thick, muscular, veiny. For a moment you want to trace your fingers over it, nails scraping against the dark ink in contrast to his skin- a skull.

Ghost’s eyes never leave you as you work, and you don’t notice the way his gaze lingers over your lips, your lashes.

You talk to him as you clean the cut- a sharp slice of a knife from a terrorist who got too close. He had been a step to your left, and you had raised your gun but Ghost had gotten him first. You didn’t even realize the hulking soldier was in your shadow until his knife was buried into the man’s neck and a curse tore from his throat at the blade lodged in his own arm.

The blood drips red across your gloved fingers as you try to distract him from the pain, and yourself from the strange flutter that echoes low in your stomach. Inside, you try to quell whatever this is- this want, this need inside you for him to be even closer, to hear his voice whisper across your skin.

Your nimble fingers work over the wound, neatly gathering the edges. It’ll leave a scar, and you wonder for a moment just how many he has, exactly. What are the stories that tie them to his flesh? The history woven into the sinew of his muscles?

“I’m sorry.” You offer, and your voice is quiet somehow, unable to fill the scant space between you. Sorry that you had been too slow, sorry he had gotten hurt as a result, sorry for having feelings despite yourself.

“…It’s fine.” The Lieutenant offers after several long heartbeats. “I’m fine.”

It’s not fine, not really, but you accept his words regardless.

“Thank you.” Ghost manages after you’re done, and his voice is uncharacteristically subdued. His eyes avert from you, as if he doesn’t want to meet your gaze. That shiver inside you swoops low with uncertainty at his hesitation, but before you can part your lips to speak he’s gone as if he was never there at all.

---

It’s only after a close call that is far too close that things change.

The sniper catches you by surprise, having managed to circle around your group and catch you from behind. The bullet goes straight through your shoulder, and if you hadn’t turned to listen to Price just a millisecond prior you know it would have been through your skull. The impact topples you forward onto the rubbled concrete below you, and the world is spinning, ringing as Price is shouting orders seconds before the rapid pop of gunfire erupts around you.

“Sunshine!!”

You try to stand, to reach for your weapon but it feels like your lungs are caught between a hydraulic press. There’s blood splattered across the ground under your hands and it blurs as your vision tries to right itself from the pain. Someone is calling your name but it sounds like it's coming through water, garbled and distant.

The world around you shifts abruptly, tilting on its axis as a pair of thick cut arms lifts you like you’re no heavier than a sack of flour. Hands reach across you, removing the strap of your rifle from your form and you catch a glimpse of the blood that’s soaked through it, dark and glistening.

“Got ‘em.” A voice gravels next to your ear, and it takes you more than one second to realize its Ghost who’s got you slung over his bulking shoulders, his gear digging into your ribcage as you wheeze and try to ground yourself against the nauseating wave of pain that bubbles up your throat, thick and red.

“Go!” Price barks, and you dimly are aware of the fact that he sounds oddly afraid. “We’ll cover you.”

The world is jostling, turning, shifting, and the sudden dizziness of it all crashes over you as your vision turns black.

---

The next hour comes in flashes of black and red, and you learn later that the bullet narrowly missed an artery- a fatal blow. Your entire left side is soaked in blood by the time you wake, but you’re alive, drowsy, laying down on a cleared off table at the safe house with the dusty kitchen light shining brightly down on you.

You hiss at the brightness and try to move to press a hand to the wound, only for an iron-rod grip to settle your wrist back onto the flat surface under you.

“Don’t.”

You blink for a few moments, turning your head to meet the white skull mask next to you. The lieutenant looks comically too large for the chair he’s sitting in, and with his size his gaze is still above you, gazing down with that unblinking stare

“You lost a lot of blood.” Ghost relays calmly, his grip still on your wrist. It’s nice, the warmth of his hand spilling through his glove onto your clammy skin. “Thought we lost you.”

There’s a tenderness in his voice that surprises you, and you can’t tell if it’s the painkillers helping you imagine it. The fact that he’s sitting here, with you, instead of with the voices that filter in from the other room, should tell you something. Your senses are too cloudy, heavy and weighed down by whatever they gave you for the pain.

“ ‘M not dead.” You manage, voice a hard scrape in your throat. “It’ll take more than that to make me a ghost.”

Maybe it’s the painkiller after all, but you swear you hear him chuckle.

---

You’re haunted after that.

Ghost’s figure is too large for your own shadow, but he stays there nonetheless, dark and omnipresent like a curse. In some ways it is. The constant presence of him forces you to constantly push down that flutter in your stomach, to make sure your eyes don’t linger on his for too long, to not say his name like the soft sigh that it is in your heart. You catch his eyes and feel a rush of warmth creep up your neck under your gear, feel the phantom of his touch skim across your wrist.

You’ve fallen for him.

Fuck.

That itself is not a problem- well, it is, but not as bad as the issue it presents. You can’t say anything. He’s your superior, you’re part of his team, and there are clear boundaries that can’t be crossed in wartime.

More than that though, is the fact that he probably doesn’t feel the same. Ghost has never mentioned anything about romance, even to Soap, who he seems closest with. When you had gently queried the sergeant for intel on the topic he had merely looked at you as if you expected him to know the secret of the afterlife itself. You count your blessings that Soap is dense when it comes to that sort of topic, otherwise he’d be pestering you for weeks about your little secret.

So, you try to contain it, this infatuation of yours, spoon feeding yourself lies about how it’ll pass, how it’s just a phase, that you two were never meant to be. It’s difficult to do just that when he’s always there, crowding into your space like your own personal attack dog, wordlessly present at all times. His eyes trace you as you pass, and you feel the chill of them carve into your bones and leave you trembling and weak.

It's fine, I’m fine. You tell yourself, more than once a day at this point, forcing down the rush of warmth when your eyes meet, when you hear his voice speak your name, when you feel him right fucking behind you.

On top of it all, Ghost starts putting you in the backseat, starts holding you from rooms until they’ve been cleared, and starts treating you like a goddamn rookie. The part of you that is hopeless over him thinks at first he’s being overprotective, watching your six and making sure there will never be a repeat of the incident that nearly cost you your life. You know better than that though, know that Ghost likely doesn’t have feelings for you, that he’s putting you on the back burner deliberately to teach you a lesson over not paying attention- and that pisses you right off.

It takes a while but you manage to corner him back at base after a successful mission where you all but sat on your ass the entire time while he and Price took the lead. You find him lurking in a back hallway, and you can’t contain your uncharacteristic anger as you stride up to him, plant your hands on either side of him on the wall and gaze furiously up at his masked face.

“What.” You grit. “-the fuck was that?!”

Ghost, for what he’s worth, actually looks surprised. The expression is foreign to you, his eyes usually cold and dead, calculating and precise. He stiffens, and even though you barely reach his collarbone with just how gigantic he is, manages to look like he’s actually a bit apprehensive of your stance towards him. In any other situation it would be borderline comical, with how you’re trying to physically intimidate a man much, much larger than yourself, with your arms barely able to box him in on either side.

“Watch your tone corporal.” He replies at last, and there’s a warning in his voice you don’t heed.

“Not until you tell me exactly why you’ve decided to treat me like I don’t know which end of the gun to shoot with.” You snap back, and the look your words earn you is chill inducing. Even so you don’t back down. “You have me being baby-sat during these missions like you can’t trust me.”

“I do trust you.”

The words spill out before he can catch them, and the confession has you both startled and blinking at each other wide-eyed. You feel shock spill across your chest, electric and dazzling for all of a moment. You aren’t surprised at the fact that Ghost trusts you, it’s the fact that he went so far as to say it out loud, voicing a rare instance of his inner thoughts to you in your confusion.

“Then why?” You ask, and you hate the way your voice sounds almost desperate, pleading for an answer.

Ghost stiffens, and you feel his muscles ripple as they brush against you.

“…I couldn’t have you injured again.” He speaks at last, and you know he’s trying to school his voice into a cold indifference, but you can hear the little note of shame there, of guilt.

“I’m going to get injured no matter what. That’s the job.” You point out, unable to contain the bite from your words.

“No.” Ghost manages, and his voice is tight, choked. “Not like that.”

You blink up at him, caught off guard by the sudden vulnerability in his voice, the way he seems to almost be pleading with you.

Yet your entire world screeches to a halt at his next words.

“Because it’s you.”

Your heart beats against your chest like a trapped bird, and suddenly you’re stumbling back from him, back braced against the opposite wall of the hallway as you try to reconcile his words with reality.

Because it’s you.

“Why…why didn’t you say anything?” You croak, hands coming up to your face to massage your temples. “All this time, you…you didn’t say anything.”

Ghost shifts where he stands, and you know him well enough at this point that he’s fighting the urge to walk away, to blend into the shadow and pretend like this conversation never happened.

“You don’t feel the same.” He says bluntly, voice detached and empty as he braces for what he thinks is your inevitable rejection. “And even if you did, I…don’t deserve someone like you.”

Your eyes shoot up to meet his, and you shiver at what you find there. Hurt, longing, desire dark and deep and barely tamed.

“You-“ Ghost manages, and you can feel the discomfort radiating off of him, this brute man built like a tank but taken down by a few tender words. “You’re too good, sunshine.”

Slowly, the pieces fit together, like skin mended together by the seam of a stitch.

He thinks he doesn’t deserve you, bright and radiant as you are. You’re sunshine and he’s Ghost, he’s shadows and darkness and blood and the whisper of death with every bullet. He’s afraid that if he even touches you he’ll dye you dark at the seams, stifle that brightness within you.

He doesn’t know that light illuminates the darkness.

“Ghost.” You manage at last, and there’s a laugh on your lips, sweet and bitter all at once. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

You yank him down and kiss him through his mask, and something radiant glows inside you both.

[eveningepiphany]

hotel room | H.S

summary: harry & Y/N are friends but it’s a love hate relationship with so much tension you can hardly breathe. this tension isn’t any better when they get stuck in a hotel room together for the night. and it only has one bed.

warnings: SMUT! hand job (f+m receiving), PIV unprotected, sloppy morning sex, teasing, swearing, praise, friends to lovers.

A/N:I have opened my requests! and I’d love to write some from you guys, so send them in here <3

———

“So there’s only… definitely only one room for us?” I say slowly, and the lady behind the counter nods.

“Y/N,” Harry says, “we’ve shared a room before—“

“I’m so sorry the inconvenience— Since the multitude of delayed flights from the storm we’ve had an unexpected influx of last-minute bookings…” her hands are zipping along the keyboard as she is clearly under the pump.

“You’ve been booked under a single room.” She glances up, face turned up apologetically, confirming.

I nod, knowing there’s so many other people needing somewhere to stay right now, there’s no point being picky.

It’s just one night.

Because Harry and I live in the same part of the UK, we usually catch the same planes to and from when we get short breaks from touring with the band.

So of course we flew out for our Australian leg of the tour several hours ago and got stuck at our layover destination, Abu Dhabi.

The storm rolled in quick, putting hour— even day long— delays on flights. So now people are scrambling to book hotels for the next few nights.

Luckily our management got on it as soon as we’d called them about the delay of out flight, but I suppose they only could get us the one room for two.

We get our room key and head up the elevator to the 7th floor.

When we walk into the room there is a single queen bed in the centre of it, and I glance at Harry out the corner of my eye. We are always close to one another being in the band, but never “share a bed” close.

“Don’t stress.” He says.

“I’m not stressed.” I quip.

“Yes you are, don’t try and bullshit me.”

“Harry, we’re adults it’s fine.”

“Hardly adults.” He chuckles.

I scoff at his constant digs, there is a fineline of how much Harry I can tolerate in a day and we are really pushing it.

“Well if you think that then I implore you to take the couch.” I know just by looking at the couch he’d hardly fit on it, and I’m not that much of an asshole to let that happen.

“Oooh, you’re just trying t’get the bed all to yourself? Bloody bed hog.”

I open my bag up, pulling out fresh clothes and my toiletries, “Was just providing you the options. I’m going to shower.”

“Too bad if I wanted one first.” He sighs dramatically, with a little smirk that usually indicates he’s teasing.

“Too bad indeed.” I smile sarcastically at him as I shut the door.

It’s so nice to wash away the gross feeling that sticks to your skin after long flights like we just had.

When I come out of the bathroom he’s laying in the bed, crisp white doona pulled back.

“Dude you’re getting airport germs in the bed.”

He glances up from his phone, eyeing me for a split second— I’m just in sleep shorts and a plain tshirt.

“It’s fine, I’ll just have this side.” He replies, a smile breaking out over his face.

He leaves me no room to respond as he stands up, “im gonna have a shower as well, and then we can order room service, how’s that sound?”

I nod, “I’ll get the menu and have a read through.”

It’s weird how we one minute can’t stop sarcastically niggling and the next we’re back to being normal friends.

I browse through their relatively large menu as the shower runs in the background. If I strain, I can hear Harry gently humming.

I’m happy to see my favourite foods on there… and heaps of deserts.

He comes out shortly after while I’m still reading the menu, and he’s clad in only grey sweatpants, adorning damp hair.

I choose to tear my eyes away from his bare chest, “I’ve figured out what I want to get, have a read through.”

I chucked him the menu and he comes to sit down next to me on the bed.

Im surprised we don’t end up in another debate about the sleeping arrangements, but I think we’re both so exhausted from the flight. The 8 hour plane trip settling deep into our bones.

“They have y’favourite.” He says with a smile playing on his lips.

“Yea, I’m so glad. It’s all I’m craving right now.”

“What are you gonna get?” I lean to look over his shoulder at the menu.

“Maybe I’ll try their tacos?”

“I’m gonna order some of the desert stuff too.”

“Y’gonna be so full.” He laughs.

“It’ll be worth it.” I say, as I stand up to go over to the phone on the desk in the corner of the room.

I ring up and order an unnecessary amount of stuff before giving them our room number and hoping back into bed.

It’s so cozy, and if it weren’t for the food I knew was coming, I’d probably curl up and fall asleep straight away.

We lay together, talking about the plan for the next few days until the food gets delivered with a knock on the door.

I get up to open it, taking the trays of food from the kind waiter.

He groans, “God it smells good.”

We both spread the dishes of food on the bed and quickly start eating.

The TV starts playing reruns of friends, the episode where Ross makes the paste with his leather pants, trying to get them up.

We’re both tearing up with laughter, stuffing our faces with our first proper meal since dinner on the plane over 5 hours ago.

“Holy shit.” He says, and we’re are letting out fits of giggles, as Ross says “—and the lotion and the powder have made a paste…”

“I swear— why did he listen to joey.” I scoff, shoving a bite of food into my mouth.

“No, because the way it just keeps getting worse.” He buries his face into his hands with a pained grin.

We watch a few of the episodes that were playing, sharing the last of the chocolate cookies that I’d ordered.

I stood up to move all the trays our food came on over to the small kitchen bench, leaving them for the morning.

“That was so yum.” I sigh out, content and full.

I go into the bathroom to brush my teeth and finish up my night routine, ready to honestly just go to sleep.

I come out with a small smile on my lips, excited to get back into bed where it’s cozy. Slipping back under the crisp white sheets, Harry turns off the TV.

The room is now dark, “fuck… can’t see now— I gotta brush m’teeth as well.”

“Have my phone.” I chuck it in his general direction, and clonk him straight in the side.

“Ouch.” He huffs, grabbing it and turning the flash on.

He pads over to the bathroom while I roll my eyes at how dramatic he is.

He turns the lights on in there, coming back over to give me my phone now that he can see.

I text a few of my immediate family members to let them know we’d settled into our hotel, choosing to leave out the fact we’re sharing a bed.

I mean assuming that’s what the plan is. I highly doubt he wants to sleep on the couch.

Being the only female in a band of boys leads to lots of assumptions throughout my family unit. Especially with Harry.

They mistake our arguments as ‘pent-up sexual frustration’. Which is far from how I like to think of it.

He steps out from the bathroom, and I turn my torch on so he can flick the light off.

He scrapes a hand over his face, looking to me with tired eyes.

The hotel was relatively quiet now, only a few drunken laughs echoing down the hallway as it nears 12am.

He climbs back into the bed, pulling the covers over himself.

I tug my pillow down a bit before turning off my flash.

“Y’tired?” He asks quietly, sounding already kind of groggy.

I hum in agreement, rolling to face him. It’s quiet a few beats.

I can just make out his outline next to me,

I can feel the warmth of his body from where I’m laying. And it feels like I’m being enveloped by it in a strange— yet lovely way.

The thought floats around in my head, images conjuring from the darkness.

I blame this on the 8 hour flight and sleep deprivation.

Usually I can ignore it, but as much as he’s a proper pain in the ass sometimes, I’d have to be visually impaired to say he wasn’t good looking.

And hell he’s laying in the same bed as me without a shirt on.

“Y’staring at me.” He chuckles softly, and I startle a little.

“How can you even see me?” I ask, amused.

“I can’t, can just feel it.”

“As if you can feel it.” I scoff, “I’ll roll over if my eyes being on you makes you too uncomfortable.”

“No, no, wait come back.” He whines as I start to move.

I huff out a laugh, and roll back over to him.

I keep my eyes shut, “better?”

He whispers a yes, and I smile.

I keep that very smile as I drift off, listening to Harry’s slow breathes from beside me, allowing them to lull me to sleep.

———

I can only half remember waking up.

I was warm, heavy, and I felt his body before I saw it.

My eyes had only opened a tiny bit—there was light creeping through the thin curtains, making his unruly hair just visible.

My leg was thrown over his hip, and I was pressed right into his chest. We were fully intertwined, and fuck did it feel nice.

I close my eyes again, I can feel his morning wood. My heart jumps a little in my chest. Maybe I can just roll over— pretend I didn’t feel it, and go back to sleep.

I carefully strain to make the movement, but I instead get pulled closer to him.

He pushes himself against me, a sigh slipping from his nose, and I realise moving may have been a bad idea.

“Fuck…” I hear him mutter against my hair, bucking his hips up again.

“Harry.” I say, voice croaky with sleep. Of course this does nothing.

I have no idea how awake he is, I’m not even fully awake yet. But Jesus, this feels better than it should.

I feel like a horrific person for enjoying the way his clothed-length is pressed into me. But by god I am not strong enough to remove myself from this situation.

“Harry, wake up.” I groaned, squirming a little in his grasp.

He seems to come to it, just enough to realise whatever the fuck is happening in a couple seconds.

“Y/N…? Fuck. what is—“ I feel his body tense underneath me as it hits him, and he probably feels his boner pressed between my legs.

His hand flys up to my thigh that’s resting on his hip, “Holy shit—“

“It’s fine, H.” I whisper, and I’m not really sure why I say that, or what I’m implying by doing so.

Or what it means paired with the fact I haven’t protested to his dick practically grinding against my cunt.

“What do you mean?” He asks, groggily.

“Not sure.” I confess, whimpering a little as he still is hard underneath me. I push into him a bit out of unspoken desire and I hear him swallow.

He doesn’t say anything as he slides his hand up my leg, cupping it on my ass.

I glance up to see his face, his eyes still half-lidded, and his cheeks have a gentle flush to them.

I feel myself getting wetter as he keeps rubbing himself along my thin sleep shorts.

He moans a bit, and I slip my hand between us to palm his cock through his sweatpants.

“This ok? Want me to help you out a bit?”

“God— yes please…” he groans.

I push it underneath his waistband, tugging him out.

He’s heavy and hot in my hand. Glancing down, its bigger than I expected. The tip is flush and red, glistening with the damp beads of precum. Hardly surprising he’s got such a pretty cock.

“Fuckin’ Christ— look at y’little hand wrapped ‘round me.” He swears.

I slowly squeeze the head of it, and that quickly has him bucking into my palm.

His own hand travels between my sleep shorts, “Mind i return the favour?”

I hum in agreement, but he doesn’t do anything, “Gotta hear you say it, tell me what you want.”

I roll my eyes, of course he’s like this in bed, wants to hear how bad I want him.

“What do you want me to say to you Harry? How bad I want your fingers in my wet cunt right now, or how I want you to fuck my clit with your tongue?”

“Want my tongue do you? Because yes that’s exactly what I’d like to hear.” He says, smirking as he dips his hand under my shorts, running his fingers through me.

“No panties… been next to me all night with your pussy so easily accessible. Such a little slut.”

He collects my arousal, carrying it up to my swollen clit. I moan with the action, trying to keep my hand pumping rhythmically.

This proves to be a challenge, as he’s very clearly skilled with his fingers.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Hardly even touched you.”

“Been grinding your dick into me for a bit, actually.” I hiss as he slips a finger into me.

“Sorry, Baby. Did my hard cock get you all worked up?” He teases, and I hate the fact that he’s right.

I give a particularly hard squeeze and he grunts, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He quickens the pace of his fingers, fucking them in and out of me.

“Hard to hate me when I’m making you feel so good, hm?” He kisses my forehead, curling his fingers in me.

I cry out. Fuck— I was going to come.

“Wait, wait, wait— don’t wanna come yet, please…” I clench my thighs around his hand and it stills.

I look up at him, his green eyes burning with desire.

He doesn’t say anything, just leans his head down and places a wet kiss on my lips.

He keeps his fingers pumping slowly in and out of me as we start to kiss.

He brings me close to coming again a few times, just to tease me, but he keeps his focus on my lips— pulling my bottom one between his and sucking on it.

It’s messy and sloppy, edges of it blurred from the morning haze still over us.

“Harry.” I say into his mouth, legs shaking a little.

“Want you in me.” It comes out of me as an unbridled thought.

“Jesus…” he murmurs, stunned by hearing the words fly out of me so openly.

He pulls his lips away, cock twitching in my hand, “you want…”

“You want me to fuck you?”

I nod, grabbing the hem of my shirt and slipping it off.

He’s enamoured by me, it’s clear in his eyes.

He reaches his hand up, out of my sleep shorts and he cups my breast with it gently.

He moves his mouth down to place gentle kissed over them.

“You’re perfect, yknow that?” He says against my skin, tugging me closer to him as I smile at the flattery.

“I’m on birth control too.” I state.

He glances up, and it appears I’ve shocked him yet again, “you wanna take me raw?”

I haven’t gone without I condom in ages… but I trust him.

“We’re both clean, right? I trust you.”

He smiles, “I’m clean. As long as your sure.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been surer of something.

He pulls my sleep shorts off, and I help shuck his sweats the rest of the way down his legs.

We’re warm between the sheets, and he’s peppering open-mouthed kisses along my neck as he lines himself up with me.

He locks eyes with me as he pushes in, and both of us moan at the feeling.

“Fuck— you’re tight.” He squeezes his hands on my hips.

I am blinded with the pleasure of him filling me up, I can’t even think about how bad an idea this could be.

“Feels so good, H.” I groan, scraping my nails along his chest.

“Can feel you clenching around me.” He reaches a hand down to play with my clit.

He’s gonna make me come embarrassingly quick— especially considering he sort of edged me a bit while we were kissing.

He was thrusting into me, a perfect pace to have me squirming in his arms.

I can tell he’s getting close, my name flying out his mouth paired with vulgar words and moans.

“I- fuck- I’m not gonna be able to drag this out if you keeping squeezing m’cock like that.” He pants.

“I’m close, so just come with me.” I plead, the thought of him finishing with me adding fuel to the fire in the pit of my stomach.

“God H, I’m gonna come— hard.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, keep talking.” He says, his skin slapping into mine, chasing his orgasm.

“You’re so pretty.” I blurt, spewing the first thing that comes to mind as I look at him.

He really is, his hair is tousled from sleep and my hands, his eyes half lidded from pleasure and tattooed chest slightly damp.

He swears, bottoming out and coming hard without warning. His hand circles my clit fast, bringing my crashing down with him.

“Harry!” I cry, burying my head into the crook of his neck as I ride out the waves of pleasure.

“Good girl, Y/N.” He groans, still thrusting into me trying to prolong his orgasms.

The high slowly ebbs away, and he stays in me for a bit. Nothing but the sounds of our laboured breathing filling the room.

I think we don’t know what to say, after something like that happens— when it all comes on instinct and you’re without any clue on what it changes.

Our dynamic, though it was a love-hate kind of thing, it was a consistent one. You knew what to expect. Now that this has happened…

“I have no idea what you’re thinking right now.” He whispers, “and that kind of scares me.”

I lay quietly for a few heartbeats, “just… that was really good. And I’m not 100% prepared for what might happen after this, y’know. To us I guess.”

“Well. To keep it simple, I really like you— and that was some of the best sex I’ve ever had so…” he trails off, unsure where to go with the sentence.

“Ok— so this isn’t gonna ruin our friendship?” I sigh in a bit of relief.

“Of course not,” he pulls back to look at me, and a smile spreads across his face, “after all, we are adults.”

———

[hardstraykidshours]

distraction

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff, 18+ (minors dni)

summary: hyunjin has had a really bad week and needs to get his emotions out somehow.

length: 3.2k

warnings: profanity, sexual/suggestive content, hard dom!hyunjin, sub!reader, unprotected sex (please wrap before you tap), deepthroating, hair pulling, degradation, praise, afab reader, nsfw 18+ (minors dni)

this week had just not been hyunjin's week. the complete lack of texts or calls during the day told you that today was probably no different. except the second you see the look on his face when he walks through the door to your shared apartment, you can instantly tell that today was different from the rest of the week. today was much, much worse.

you start to cross the room towards him but pause when his shoe gets stuck while he's trying to take it off, resulting in him flinging it halfway across the room while muttering obscenities under his breath. 

he looks up at you and notes your frozen posture before loosing a heavy sigh and running his fingers through his hair, a tic you've noticed he does when he's overwhelmed or frustrated. "i'm sorry love, it's just not been a good day."

"it's okay baby, i understand," you say while finishing crossing the room towards him. wrapping your arms around his waist, you pull him into a tight hug. he embraces you back, but doesn't sink into your hold or bury his face in your neck like he usually does. "do you want to talk about it?" 

a dry laugh escapes his throat, but you hear no humor in the sound. "that's the last thing i want to talk about right now." 

you pull away slightly to look up at him. "can i do anything to help?" 

"unless you can time travel back to before i was an idol and tell me to stop before it becomes the biggest fucking nightmare of my entire life, i think i'm good," he breaks your hold on him, brushing past you to head further into the apartment.

his words leave you a bit stunned, so you don't respond for a minute. he loves dancing and performing, and he loves his fans, so you know he doesn't really mean what he said about not becoming an idol. regardless, it still shocked you, because it's the first time he's ever said something so drastic before. 

you take a second to compose your shocked expression before turning and heading into the kitchen.

"why don't you go take a shower, and i'll finish making dinner?" you say, trying to keep your voice casual. he clearly doesn't want to talk about work, so maybe reverting back to your normal routine will help him de-stress. 

"yeah, fine, whatever," he mutters, more to himself than you, before storming to the bathroom. you grin to yourself at his grumpy behavior, knowing a long, hot shower will help him relax. it always does. 

you're just finishing up dinner when you hear the water turn off. a few moments go by, and you look up to see hyunjin standing in the doorway to the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and another draped across his neck that he's using to vigorously dry his hair. your smile quickly fades when you see the lines of tension still visible on his face and through his body. he's deep in thought, definitely about work, and he scrubs a hand down his face, clearly still very frustrated. "it's fucking bullshit," he spits while slamming the side of his fist into the doorframe before stalking across the hall to your bedroom to change. 

okay, now you're getting worried. you thought for sure a shower would help him cool off, just like it always does, but all it seems to have done is rile him up even more. 

he emerges from the bedroom a few moments later, wearing a fresh t-shirt and gym shorts. he joins you at the table, chair screeching across the floor when he pulls it out with more force than necessary. you tap your leg nervously while he remains silent the entire meal, the tension in the air around him palpable. 

finally, he finishes his meal and mumbles a thank you before abruptly standing. he crosses to the living room and plops down on the couch. you think he's going to put on a stupid show or a movie to help turn off his brain and unwind, but when you finish clearing the table you look over and see that he hasn't moved an inch. he's just laying there, staring at the ceiling. 

you join him in the living room, sitting next to him on the arm of the couch. you try to run your fingers through his hair, something you know he absolutely loves, but he brushes your hands away. 

"jinnie, baby, what's going on? what happened?" 

"i told you i don't want to talk about it." 

"okay, then what can i do to help you? i know this week's been a nightmare for you, so tell me what you need to feel better," your voice has taken on a pleading tone. you're starting to get a little desperate for anything else to try. 

"nothing. it just all sucks, and nothing can change that. i'm really sorry i'm being such an ass tonight. i'm just going to go to bed." 

he pushes off the couch and walks away, leaving you feeling helpless. you know he's not acting like this on purpose. he's just overwhelmed with whatever is happening with work and is lashing out, but you wish you could help him. you wish he would let you help him. 

he's a wound up ball of energy and frustration, and you don't know what to do. you've tried everything you can think of to help him release all that tension, so he can finally unwind and relax for the evening, but nothing seems to be working. 

wait. you haven't tried everything. 

when you enter the bedroom you find hyunjin on the bed in the same position he was in on the couch, on his back staring blankly at the ceiling. 

you crawl up next to him, pausing when you reach his waist. he doesn't so much as even spare you a glance, but you don't let it deter you. you're going to snap him out of this if it's the last thing you do. reaching forward, you slide his shirt up slightly and plant several warm, wet kisses along his lower abdomen. you don't miss the sharp intake of breath when he feels your warm tongue swirl across his skin. which is why you're shocked when his hands grip your shoulders and pull you away. 

"what are you doing?" he looks at you, his gaze still distant, and you can almost see the turmoil waging in his eyes. 

"i'm distracting you from whatever is going on in that head of yours," you lean forward once more, tracing your lips across his flesh again. he doesn't stop you, but he also doesn't stop his complaints. 

"it's no use baby. like i told you before, there's nothing that's going to make this night better," his mouth is telling you one thing but the growing hardness in his shorts is telling you something entirely the opposite. 

you pull back slightly to smirk up at him. "just be a good boy and listen to me so i can make you feel good." you reach for his waistband, but his hand shoots out and encircles your wrist, stopping your movements. 

"no." his voice is firm, bordering on cold, and you can't help the shocked expression that crosses your face. before you even have time to question his strange behavior, he continues. "i'm sick and tired of listening to people tell me what to do. it doesn't matter that i'm running myself ragged to do exactly what they asked. it's still not good enough. maybe we wouldn't have so many problems if someone just fucking listened to me for once!"

oh. oh. so that's what's been going on. now that you know the root of the problem, your entire plan shifts slightly. 

"i'm listening," you say as you lean back onto your heels, crossing your hands behind you. 

he runs a hand through hair and releases a heavy sigh. "i know you are, loves, you always listen, but you know that's not what i mean." 

"oh, but i do know," your voice takes on a slightly mischievous tone. "you just don't know what i mean." 

"i don't un-" he stops talking when he notices you grab the hem of your shirt and start lifting it. 

"i'm listening," you don't break eye contact as you pull the shirt up and over your head. 

"to you." one hand moves behind your back, undoing the clasps on your bra. 

"to anything you want to say." the corners of your lips tip up into a smile as you slide the straps down your arms. 

"and to anything you want to do." you rise up slightly to push your shorts off before settling back on your heels, completely bare except for your panties. 

he props himself up on his elbows to look at you. a dark glint enters his eyes, and you can tell his attention is quickly shifting away from work. 

"you need to work out all that tension from this week, and i want you to unleash it on me. however you want."

he doesn't say anything in response, just opens and closes his mouth a few times while he keeps staring at you. 

"well?" 

it's like that one word flicked a switch in his brain because he moves before you can even blink. you find yourself suddenly on your back, his body towering over you, his arms caging you in.

"i'm not in a good headspace right now," he leans down to kiss your neck, and you tip your head back when you feel his warm mouth on your skin. 

"i know," you whisper before letting out a soft moan when you feel him suck hard enough to leave a mark. 

"i'm not going to be gentle," his teeth scrape across your throat and bright hot arousal shoots through your veins. "i'm going to fuck you and use you until i can't even remember all that stupid bullshit from work." 

his dirty words skate across your skin, and you can feel your panties getting wetter by the second. 

"good," you mange to say, grinning to yourself. 

he pulls away suddenly, moving to stand next to the bed. "roll over," his voice is hard, full of authority and you cant help but think about how much it turns you on. 

you quickly oblige, turning onto your stomach and scooting to the edge of the bed when he gestures at you. 

"open," he commands while moving his shorts just enough to pull out his hard cock. your mouth practically waters at the sight of him right in front of you. you're so busy staring at his throbbing dick that you don't even realize your mouth is still closed until he's fingers sink into your hair, pulling your head back ever so slightly.

"i said open," he taps your lips with the tip of his cock, and you immediately part them. 

he wastes no time thrusting into your mouth. he hits the back of your throat, and you gag slightly around him, pulling a deep groan from him. 

he continues to relentlessly pound into you, your position giving him the ideal angle to plunge deep into your mouth. he has his hands buried into your hair, using it as leverage to pull you closer in time with his thrusts. 

it's unlike any other time you two have done this. you've always been the one in control, guiding the speed, the depth, everything. but not this time. and you realize you like it. a lot. 

something about being completely at his mercy while he roughly fucks your mouth is so incredibly arousing. the loud moans and grunts that pour from hyunjin while he keeps up his unforgiving pace only heighten the entire situation and you know your panties are completely ruined by this point. you find yourself squirming on the bed slightly, rubbing your thighs together to try and release some of the intense ache that's building between them. 

"look at you, already writhing for my touch, and i've barely done anything yet. you like this huh? does my little whore like it when i use her mouth and throat like this?" 

you nod enhusiastically as tears start to gather in your eyes from gagging while he roughly fucks your throat. one breaks loose with his next thrust and starts to trail down your cheek. he slows his pace slightly, before eventually stopping and pulling away. he brings his free hand up to gently wipe the tear away. "good girl, you're such a good little slut for me. taking me so well." 

you can't help the moan that escapes you at his dirty words. 

"i think you deserve a reward for being such a good girl, huh?" you nod eagerly, biting your lip as you think of finally getting to feel him where you so desperately want him. 

his eyes zero in on the movement, and you notice the way his cock jumps as he watches your teeth sink into your bottom lip. 

"lay on your back. center of the bed." you scramble to obey his instructions, ready for whatever he has planned next. 

"now spread your legs." 

his eyes darken even more when you do, lust clouding his vision. he stalks to the end of the bed and slowly, torturously starts to move up the length of your body, nipping and licking and sucking the entire way. 

when he finally reaches the apex of your thighs he pauses for a moment, his face directly level with your dripping pussy. 

his eyes move up to yours as he slips his fingers beneath the edge of your panties, ghosting along your pussy before he pulls the fabric away and lets it slap back against your skin. your body jolts at the sudden sharp sting, but a moan slips from your lips as the pain mixes with pleasure. 

he does it again, resulting in the same response from you. he does it a third time, this time much harder. you cry out this time, practically thrusting your cunt into his face as you beg for more. 

your reaction shreds any last semblance of self control hyunjin has, and he rips your panties from your body. before they can even hit the floor, he's back between your legs and sliding into you with one easy thrust. you throw your head back at the sensation of him filling you. he makes a few slow, experimental strokes before thrusting all the way into you, leaning forward and biting your shoulder as he does. 

you gasp at the combined feeling of his teeth on your skin and his cock deep inside your pussy. your hands move to scrape up his back, trying to pull him even closer, but he knocks them down with his arms. 

grabbing both your hands with one of his, he moves them above your head, pinning them to the bed. he uses his other hand to grip your hip, tight enough you think it might bruise. and then he starts to fuck you fast and hard, his hips snapping into yours with brutal force. 

you cry out in pleasure as he hits that spot deep inside of you over and over again. you feel a familiar pressure growing low in your belly. when he releases your hip to move his hand between you and start rolling your clit, you know it will only be a few more moments before you shatter completely.

without slowing his pace, he leans down to your ear and whispers. "cum for me, baby, i want to feel you cum on my cock." 

his words tip you over the edge, and your eyes roll back as release slams into you. he continues to fuck you relentlessly throughout your orgasm, drawing it out longer than you thought possible. 

just as you start to come down from your high, he rolls his thumb along your clit again and gives it a sharp pinch. without warning another orgasm crashes over you, rolling into the first. incoherent mumbles and moans pour from your lips as you lose yourself to the pleasure. 

in the midst of being lost in bliss you hear hyunjin utter a few sharp curses, his pace faltering before he thrusts himself deep inside of you. he collapses over top of you, barely managing to keep his body weight from crushing you as his cock pulses inside of you. 

the sensation causes a few afterschocks to roll through you, and you clench around his dick. hyunjin releases a strangled moan at the sensation, fighting off overstimulation as he finishes cumming deep inside of you. 

you both stay like that for a moment, his face buried in your neck as you try to catch your breath. eventually, he pulls out and flops onto his back beside you. 

you roll over on your side to look at him, smiling broadly when you see the stupid grin plastered on his face. 

"feel better?" you tease, snuggling closer to his side. 

"most definitely," he wraps an arm around you, and leans in to kiss you tenderly. when he pulls away, you can see the apology in his eyes before he even opens his mouth. "i'm really sorry, loves, it's been a really long, very rough week for me."

"i know-" he interjects before you can say anything else. 

"but, that doesn't mean i should have been so irritated and snappy when i came home. you have been so helpful and patient with me this entire week, and you didn't deserve for me to act like that around you." 

"it's okay," you say while gently reaching up to push some of his hair out of his face before stroking his cheek. you can see that he wants to interrupt and apologize again, so you continue before he has the chance. "i'm not here with you just for all the good days. i'm here for the days where you kick your shoe across the room, because it's stuck, and it's just one more thing that hasn't gone right. i'm here for the days when you feel like you're going to combust because you're so upset, or tired, or just plain overwhelmed. i'm here for the days you just can't control the frustration anymore. i don't need you to try and pretend to be okay around me just because i'm not what made you upset. i just want to be here and work through it with you. okay?"

a soft smile breaks across his face and he nods slightly as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. 

"plus," you add, throwing him a wry smirk. "we seem to have figured out just what you need when it's been one of those days."

"mmmmm, i believe you're right," a devilish expression crosses his face and his hand slides down to grip your waist. "just know that from now on, if i text you that i've had a rough day, you better be ready." he pulls you closer against him, and you can't help the small moan that escapes you when you feel that he's already hard again. 

"always," you reply breathlessly before twining your fingers around his neck and pulling his mouth to yours.

[ilythena]

·˚ ₊˚ 𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝟐 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝟐.

Sum. ᯤ How would the blue lock characters react to you being in a fight? Fic ver. PART 2

Char. ⩩ Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru, Reo Mikage, Nagi Seishiro, Kunigami Rensuke, Rin Itoshi, Chigiri Hyoma

Tags. ⌯ Fighting, isagi scolding you but you dgaf, blood.

Wc. ꩜ 1,155

“I hate parties.” Isagi says, shoving through the crowd of people with Bachira following behind him. “I think this is fun!” Sitting down on couch in the only empty room in the house, Bachira takes a sip of his drink and smiles wide at the clearly irritated Isagi.

Chigiri walks into the room just as upset as Isagi, complaining that he already lost Reo and doesn’t know where else to go, and Bachira is trying to convince the two to stay a little longer— at least until they find everyone.

Kunigami somehow also finds the room where the three boys are sitting and joins them on their little conversation, siding with bachira on the party isn’t that bad, he texts Reo and Nagi to see where they are and to find out if they’re okay. Chigiri and Isagi continue to complain until Kunigami excuses himself to go get some water.

It takes him a while to get back, and Bachira assumes Kunigami probably got distracted or got lost and forgot to return back. “He’ll be back eventually, kunigami is responsible. He wouldn’t drink or get high so we don’t need to worry about him!”

They think nothing of it and continue to talk thinking that Kunigami is gonna return soon with a bottle of water or two. What they didn’t expect Kunigami to return with was a angry you who’s screaming and kicking calling someone an “ugly ass bitch” with Reo and nagi following close behind. Your hands are covered in blood from the bottle that the other girl swung on you and your face is cut because of her nails.

They think nothing of it and continue to talk thinking that Kunigami is gonna return soon with a bottle of water or two. What they didn’t expect Kunigami to return with was a angry you who’s screaming and kicking calling someone an “ugly ass bitch” with Reo and nagi following close behind. Your hands are covered in blood from the bottle that the other girl swung on you and your face is cut because of her nails.

“What the fuck.” Isagi doesn’t waste a second to close the door and find something to clean your hands up with, blood is all over the floor from the cuts but you don’t care about any of that, all you want to do is get back out there and teach that girl who she’s fucking with. “Y/n?! What happened!” “Dear god.” Bachira and Chigiri are trying to calm you down and Kunigami is still holding on to you— trying to make sure you calm down so you don’t run out there and fight again.

“Me and Nagi were walking to the kitchen to get some quiet and we saw y/n and some lady arguing, next thing I knew I blinked and the girl had tried to swing her beer bottle on y/n’s head.” Reo said, and Nagi looks more awake than ever.“Kunigami I swear to god let me go before I whoop you next. I’m not gon’ run.” “Can’t do that, y/n.” Kunigami sits you down on the couch and chigiri is repeating how we’re all leaving as soon as possible. Isagi returns with a towel and looks pissed as he wraps your hands up in it and gets a closer look at your face.

Bachira suddenly knows exactly who reo is talking about, it’s the same girl you had beef with since you started dating Rin. He doesn’t hesitate to smack his teeth and look as irritated as you. “She’s so annoying. Why won’t she let up?” “Exactly! She’s a fucking hater and I can’t wait until I can whoop that ugly hoes ass. I guess I gotta wait another day cause-“ “y/n be for real. You’re bleeding and we’re going home.” Isagi grips the back of your shirt hard as hell and drags you out the house with everyone else following.

You all hop in the car with you seated between kunigami and nagi, the two keep an eye out for you to make sure you’re okay.

Nagi’s phone dings and screaming is heard off of it, you peek and it’s your fight video— It’s pretty obvious you won despite the bleeding hands. “This is exactly why i didn’t even want to come in the first place, this shit is ridiculous.” Isagi sighs, steering out of his parking spot and driving to Rin’s place. “I mean, at least y/n won.” Nagi says and chigiri side eyes the taller male. He shrugs and mouths a ‘it’s true!’

Bachira turns around to look at you and you’re not even saying anything, he knows you well enough to tell you’re irritated beyond belief and all you want to do is fight. The said girl has been on your back since you started dating Rin and doesn’t let up, the alcohol she consumed built up her confidence to fight you when you were having a good time.

Nagi rubs your back and Kunigami tells you to breathe because Rin wouldn’t be happy to see this, you take his words into consideration and calm down a little. Rin didn’t even want you going and looking back now he was right.

Your hands are still bleeding, and it’s soaking through the towels now. It’s concerning you more and more as each second passes and you’re pretty sure you need stitches, Reo notices and tells Isagi to go to the hospital instead.

“What? Why wo- oh my fucking god she cut you that deep?” Isagi says, quickly looking back and seeing how much blood is now in his car and on you as he makes a U-Turn and drives to the hospital. “That bitch is crazy.” He mumbles as Bachira looks through the glove compartment for some towels or something to at least clean some of it up.

Chigiri has been quiet this whole time, honestly wanting everything to calm down. “Someone call rin!” Reo says and chigiri dials his number, no answer. Calls again, no answer.

Nagi notices and calls rin, still no answer. You see this and say “call rin off my phone, he has all of you silenced.” Isagi and kunigami scoff and kunigami picks up your phone as nagi takes the paper towels from bachira to hold your hands in.

After calling Rin on your phone, he finally picks up with a “hello? I was going to call nagi and chigiri back but you called-“ “y/n got in a fight and we’re on our way to the hospital.” Silence consumes the car for about 5 seconds before you hear Rin scream “WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO Y/N.”

You laugh and Kunigami points the speaker to you “I’m fine babe, I just got into a fight and the bitch cut my hands open with the bottle she swung at me.” “So you’re not fine is basically what you just said. Who was it?” Rin says, shuffling is heard over the phone and you assume he’s getting up to meet you at the hospital. “It was the same girl I told you was mad that we were dating.” And Rin let’s out an ‘oh god. Her.’ And you laugh harder. Its the only time you’ve smiled since the incident happened.

[luciathcv]

niki is the type of boyfriend….

to cuddle with you 24/7

he no joke cuddles u sm

it’s like an addiction or something💀

he just can’t help it tho

to ask u to come over and all you do while ur there is nap together

he’s to the point where it’s hard to fall asleep without you being there for him to cuddle

like you’ll come over and he’ll just lead you to his bed and lay down with you

and if you’re not in comfortable clothes to sleep in he’d always lend u some of his

to always share his hoodies and shirts with you

he just finds you so cute when you wear his clothes he can’t help it

after he began dating you he has less clothes in his closet and you have more in yours

you’ve tried to give it back to him after wearing it but he refuses saying something about how he doesn’t want to wear it after it’s been on you (teasingly ofc)

to tease you 24/7

it’s just apart of his personality okay??

and yes he does it at bad times sometimes but he’s improved on it ig💀

okay but actually he’ll tease you a lot but when you’re upset or something like that he knows not to do any of that

even though he had trouble with that at the beginning

it wasn’t that he would tease you in a necessarily mean way it’s just that he didn’t know how to comfort you

after being with you for a bit though he’s learned what makes you feel better and what doesn’t

[curseofaphrodite]

meet cute (?)

steven grant x reader | fluff, no pronouns, no spoilers!

a small oneshot in celebration of moon knight premiere. you can expect more fics for steven after more episodes are released <3

"Is this— is this seat taken?" an exhausted voice asked.

"No, I don't think so," you said with a smile. The man sat down, immediately sighing in relief. Your first thought was about how he looked kind of cute, but you internally scolded yourself.

You haven't even met him for five seconds, get a grip.

"Are you okay?" you asked moments later. "I have a flask of tea in my bag; you look like you've been through hell."

He looked startled, as if he wasn't used to strangers willingly talk to him. He immediately started to stammer.

"I just didn't— sleep well. Woke up and realized I'm late so I had to run. I swear I don't usually look like a zombie," he rambled on, and you watched him with a smile. That didn't help him either. If anything, it only made him more confused.

"So you didn't have breakfast?" you prodded.

He shook his head, not wanting to speak more and embarrass himself.

"Then it's settled." You unzipped your bag and brought out the flask, careful not to drop the other items on the floor. The bus was still speeding through the streets, so you handed the flask over to him while you zipped your bag properly.

Which was the worst thing you could have done because he was nothing if not clumsy.

He wanted to help, wanted to express his gratitude in some way, so he had tried opening the lid by himself. That part went ever so smoothly, but as he poured the content into the mug-shaped lid, the bus turned right, and all the tea went straight to the person on his left — you.

"Oh my gosh," he exclaimed while you yelped in surprise. The tea was still warm, but your jacket had taken most of the heat. Some still leaked through and stained your t-shirt, but at least you weren't burnt.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine, it's fine, I just need a towel." You rummaged through your bag again, but there didn't seem to be anything useful.

"I can get you new clothes," he said quickly.

"You don't have to, it was an accident—"

"No I mean, I work at a gift shop," he explained. "It's the next stop and I'll quickly get you a new t-shirt, if you'd like. You'll be a walking advertisement for the museum but atleast you won't be wearing the stained one — which I'm so sorry about by the way."

"You work at the museum?"

He frowned. Why did you look so impressed? "Yes. Uhm yes, at the gift shop. I said that part already, didn't I?"

"You did," you laughed. "I go to the museum every month — I love history. Why haven't I seen you before?"

"I'm not exactly a tour guide."

"That's a shame," you commented, shrugging. "Well, I don't have to be at my workplace for another hour so I'll take you up on the gift shop offer. Only if you allow me to buy you tea. And tacos."

"Oh?" he blinked in surprise.

"You haven't had breakfast yet, right? You must be hungry."

"That's right, yeah," he tried a smile, one that didn't quite look nervous anymore. Just genuinely happy. He decided he liked your company. "Okay, it's a dat- deal. It's a deal."

"You're cute," you said, laughing again.

He wondered if he looked as flustered as he felt. He wondered why he felt so warm and fuzzy inside.

Throughout the entire day, two words echoed through his mind, almost making him wanna twirl and giggle like a teenage boy again.

I'm cute.

[shitsandgiggles1]

Sweet morning’s with you - mason mount

Summary- you get woken up to mason

Warnings- none

Genre- fluff, a little bit of suggestive smut

Authors note- I hope this is ok not the best as I only just started also if there’s anyone you’d like me to write about just let me know and I’ll do it.

I do not give permission for anyone to copy my work however you can reblog it.

Mason had already woken up by eight just by reflex, but decided to stay in bed as you were still fast asleep with your hair sprawled all across your pillow and letting out tiny little snores.

However, after half an hour of tossing and turning and getting bored of his phone, he decided to make breakfast while he’s waiting for you to wake up he decided to make breakfast for you. He cautiously got off the bed and shut the door so he wouldn’t disrupt your beauty sleep.

Although that was very inconvenient for y/n as she would normally wake up freezing and roll over to mason as he was nice and warm for a quick snuggle until she really needed to get up. But as she rolled over to do so she nearly fell off the bed if it wasn’t for the bed side table she had not realising she didn’t have mason as a protective barrier to not have that same accident happen.

Now very grumpy, as she wasn’t normally a morning person anyway got up to go downstairs and find him. However, she didn’t get to even open the door as the door swung open with a grinning mason with ruffled bed hair and a tray full of some magnificent smelling food. He soon realised that he wouldn’t be able to surprise you by waking you up with a tray full of food to see that sweet smile on your face and instead have you already awake and a face that looks like a grumpy looking baby. Mason could help but laugh at that thought but stopped as he realised you weren’t grumpy for no reason.

“What’s up baby” he says as he puts the tray down on the bed side table to bring you in his arms. “You left me” You sighed and nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck loving the warmth your getting that you should’ve gotten about five minutes ago.

“I’m sorry I went to go make you breakfast as I woke up ages ago” he laughed coming to the realisation of why you had some serious puppy eyes and pouty lips. “Come on let’s get back in bed eat all this spent quite long making all this you know,” he said as he picked you up ready to snuggle on his day off and eat.

After twenty minutes of eating all the food you two had definitely finished with your belly fulls and now cuddling watching friends on the tv.

“Although your food was delicious I’m still mad at you for leaving me earlier” you huffed falsely and turned away from him acting annoyed. “Oi get back here you big baby” he laughed and smacked your arse. After he realised that wasn’t gonna work he grabbed you around the waist and pulled you towards him so that you were on your back and gave you a big smack of a kiss as he saw the big grin on your face. His hands roamed around your waist until eventually he picked you up and put you on his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and left a trial of light kissed from his jaw to his noticing his shoulders start to relax.

“Y/n” he warned not wanting to do that right now as he has something planned tonight. “Baby not right now ok, later” mason softly said as he didn’t want you to get the wrong impression and get upset. “Just wanna cuddle right now I’ve missed you”. You decided to stop your teasing antics as you understood what he was saying because you had missed him to where he been busy with his football and training and any travelling he had to do with that. You pushed against his chest so he’d lay down and put your head against his chest. “I love you mase”. “I love you too baby.”

[honeywritten]

A Match

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Summary: Never would you imagine your boss using a dating app and you definitely would never imagine matching with her.

Warnings: Smut, oral ( r receiving), fingering, strap-on (r receiving), legal age-gap, also sleeping with your boss is morally wrong

Word count: 2.8k

18+ Only, MINORS DNI

Your thumb hovers over the screen in your dark bedroom on a Saturday night. The only source of light comes from the cellphone that is currently opened on a new dating app your friends made you download. Never would you think you'd see your boss of all people on said app.

Natasha Romanoff, 36.

The red X and green check mark stare back at you.

You've known Natasha for about 3 years, though before recently it was only in passing. She's an acquaintance of your mom's and has been over to your house a few times for parties but there were always so many people around you never had a chance to really talk with her.

It was 3 months ago when you got fired from your old job due to not finding someone to cover your shift when you had an exam, poor planning on your part but you tried your best to fix the situation. One night your mom had Natasha over for dinner and mentioned you were looking for a job.

Natasha told you her current assistant was gonna be out on maternity leave and she needed someone to step in temporarily. You were a bit hesitant at first, Natasha’s company is prominent and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that type of responsibility yet. But when she mentioned just how much you'd be getting paid and that you would have plenty of free time throughout the day when she's in meetings to study or finish assignments for class, you would be dumb not to take the job.

The only downside is you're a bit shy around people in general but Natasha was a whole different level. Very rarely can you form a sentence when she's in the room.

You've always found Natasha insanely beautiful, sneaking glances at her when she isn't looking, taking in how her body fits into certain clothing.

You slid through her photos once again. A mirror selfie of her in a skin-tight black dress, another with her best friend/business partner Steve Rogers. That's it, two photos.

A small part of you wonders if it's actually her or a catfish just happening to use photos of your hot boss. But the little blue check mark next to her name gives you your answer.

Your chew on your bottom lip as you debate on swiping right or left.

Your attraction to the older woman makes her so much more intimidating. But you're honestly curious to see if maybe by an off chance you could match her.

You suck in a deep breath before swiping right and releasing again but soon you're choking on nothing when the big “It's a Match!” pops up on your screen.

Frozen in your spot you stare at your selfie beside Natasha's.

This has to be a dream.

Immediately closing out the app you toss your phone on the bed.

This is insane you rub your hands over your face.

There's no way Natasha has looked at you the way you look at her.

Why would she swipe right on you? Was it just an accident?

Suddenly there's a buzz.

You slowly pick up our phone.

"Natasha sent you a new message!"

You can't stop yourself from clicking the notification immediately.

"Well I didn't take you as the type to look for hookups online"

You stare at the screen, she actually messaged you, this wasn't an accident.

You reply

"I could say the same about you"

The three dots immediately pop up so you don't close out the app.

"My friend set this up for me, she found her 'perfect partner' on here"

"Wow a relationship started from a dating app, it's your modern love story" you reply.

You spend the rest of your night talking with Natasha till she taps out for bed at 2am.

The next day at 3pm you receive a text from Natasha asking how your day was going which lead to texting all day and well into the night.

At one point the conversation steers towards your photos. The first being a selfie, the sun giving you that perfect golden hour glow, the second is a photo you took in your bedroom while positioning your phone against a potted plant, a way to show off your outfit and get a good photo. The 3rd, a photo of you and your friend hugging each other while you smile at the camera.

In the years of knowing Natasha never had you had such an easy conversation with her. It was a lot easier to think of a reply when her green eyes aren't boring into yours.

When Monday comes around you feel nervous, and your stomach feels empty but full of air. No matter how many pep talks you give yourself you can't shake that uncomfortable feeling.

It only worsens when you step into the elevator and wait anxiously to arrive at your floor.

Will she mention the conversations or even acknowledge anything?

Will she take one look at you and find you're not worth it and ghost you?

When the elevator door opens you're met with the usual emptiness. The floor only consisted of your desk right across from the elevator and Natasha's office which is behind a closed door.

She usually has it opened since it's just the two of you on that floor and you're as quiet as a mouse.

When the door is open you get a perfect view of the older woman sitting at her desk looking stressed but so incredibly delicious.

You set your things down before starting up your computer. in the meantime you make your way over to Natasha's door, taking a deep breath, filling the still nervous filled belly with air, you knock.

"Come in" Natasha's familiar angelic voice sounds muffled.

"Good morning Ms. Romanoff." you say smiling politely at her.

Natasha is standing over her desk picking up and only reading the names on the manilla folders on her desk.

"Good morning y/n" she looks up at you, her face as expressionless as always.

You make your way over to the  coffee machine in her office, hyper aware of her eyes following you.

"That's a gorgeous dress." she says.

You look over your shoulder to catch her eyes lingering on your ass.

"Thank you" you smile.

You leave the coffee to brew as you both fall into your usual routine.

Never does Nat mention the app or the past day and a half you two spent messaging each other.

It's not till Friday after texting each other every day after work does Natasha finally mentions seeing each other outside of work.

"Do you have any plans for tonight?" She questions coolly.

"None, why?" You respond.

"I'm making (your favorite food) tonight if you want to come over?"

You can't help the smile that tugs on your lips.

"Alright." you nod.

"Do you remember where my house is?" She asks. You’d gone over once with your mom for Natasha’s birthday party. You remember being bored out of your mind when your mom ditched you to talk to a few friends.

"I think but still send me the address just in case" you respond as you get your things together.

"Ok then I'll see you at 8" her eyes rank over your body before she turns to return to her office.

After gathering your things you rush home to prepare yourself for dinner with Natasha.

After showering and any extra maintenance you pick out a causal thin strapped silk dress that hugs your curves at lands mid-thigh.

When you arrive at Natasha's house it's 8 on the dot, you debate waiting in the car for a bit so you don't look so eager but you realize how ridiculous that sounds and make your way up the driveway.

Natasha opens her front door a couple seconds after your ring the doorbell.

"I promise I wasn't just waiting by the door" she says making you laugh softly.

"I wasn't thinking that" you says with a smile as you step inside and you two greet each other with a cheek kiss.

"Wow, your house is still as beautiful as I remember it" your eyes rank up the massive staircase and crystal chandelier. She thanks you.

"You look amazing y/n" she says in a tone that makes you forget to breathe.

"I- uh Thank you, so do you" you stutter a bit. 

"Let's get dinner started or else I'll just stay here staring at you all night" Natasha laughs and leads you to her dining room.

Dinner goes by smoothly, and you mentally applaud yourself for being able to hold an actual intelligent conversation with a woman who's 15 years your senior.

You're helping her pick up when she questions "why did you swipe right on me?"

You swallow at that "I- it was kind of a no brainer no? I mean" you find yourself rubbing your hands together in nervousness. “Look at you. You're gorgeous and so- so confident, you carry this thing around you like no matter who else is in the room all eyes will sill gravitate towards you" Natasha sends you a warm smile and you feel your cheeks starting to heat up.

"Why did you swipe right on me?" You ask.

"I was curious about you, you're gorgeous that alone had me interested but you're so quiet. I never know what's going on in that pretty little head. It intriguing"

Natasha Romanoff is intrigued by you.

You're certain your dreaming now.

"I'm glad we matched" she says making a smile form at the corner of your mouth.

"Yeah?" You ask.

Natasha nods stepping closer to you. "why?" You ask your voice barely above a whisper as nerves pick at your throat.

"Because now I can finally do this" she says just before grabbing your waist and pulling you towards her, meeting you in a kiss.

Her lips are soft and you open your mouth to her allowing your tongues to meet, you can't help the small  moan that escapes you.

You can feel Natasha's hand gripping your waist making you so hot but before things can escalate Natasha pulls away. Her forehead rests against yours. "Let's go upstairs?" She waits for you to nod before pulling away and grabbing your hand.

You walk with her through the house, upstairs to her bedroom.

She leads you to the bed where you sit looking up at her awaiting. She looks down at you with dark eyes as she skillfully pulls down the zipper at the back of her dress.

You eagerly help her slip it off her shoulders and past her breast making you groan. You shove the dress past the width of her hips before reaching behind her and unclasping her bra.

When her breast is bare your eyes look up to meet her as you slowly lean forward and draw your tongue over her nipple. She holds your gaze with her mouth agape as you suck, lick and nip before moving on to the other breast.

Her hands slide your thin dress straps down your shoulders as you're preoccupied with placing kisses on her soft breast. Your dress slips down, falling to pool around your hips.

Natasha takes in your naked top half with a whisper of "fuck" You release her tit when Natasha leans down and quickly takes one of your tits into her warm wet mouth while her fingers play with the other. A moan falls past your lips, and your fingers find her soft hair.

She pulls her mouth away from your chest allowing the cool air to hit your nipples that are glossed in her saliva.

She glides her hands along the sides of your body towards your underwear, tugging it off to leave you completely bare.

"God" she breathes out "better than I imagined" you moan at her words and reach out to her. She complies blanketing herself over your breast to breast and you capture her mouth in a hot kiss.

She trails kisses along your neck making you groan "please" you beg.

"What do you want?" She questions her breath hitting your ear and sending a jolt of arousal throughout your body.

"Whatever you want" you gasp out when you feel her knee press over your cunt. "Do whatever you want to me" you say.

Natasha groans in your ear before slipping down your body and roughly grabbing your knees to spread your legs.

You gasp when her hot tongue meets your throbbing clit before slowly flicking it up. She delves in every lick m and suck is perfectly calculated to have you gasping for air.

You feel her tongue at your core and it makes you want to scream when she pulls away. "Don't stop please" you reach out for her head which makes her chuckle.

"I'm not gonna stop" she kisses your inner thigh as her middle fingers work their way into your core. "Especially not after I've waited so long to hear you scream"

Her other hand reaches up to wipe away the strands of hair sticking to your face as she slowly starts pumping her fingers in and out of you.

"God you're so wet" she groans and you become painfully aware of the foul soaking sounds that fill the air.

Your eyes catch sight of her glorious breast that bounces with each thrust she makes as she picks up the pace.

You find yourself taking your bottom lip between your teeth which Natasha isn't happy about. She reaches for you mouth to tug the plump lip loose.

"I need to hear you" she says before curling her fingers and sending you over the edge.

Your loud moans fill the room as your back arches off the bed to which Natasha takes as an offering and sucks a tit into her mouth.

"God" you gasp reaching for her, running your fingers through her hair.

Natasha pulls her fingers from your cunt's tight grip and purposely meets your eyes as she sucks your juices clean off her fingers.

"I want to fuck you" she says leaning closer to press her forehead against yours "can I fuck you baby?" Her voice is so sickly sweet, that not a soul could resist her.

immediately you nod "whatever you want" you say making the older woman smirk at you.

Then your body is left cold as she gets up from the bed and disappears into her walk-in closet.

You wait not more than 20 seconds before she walks back out with a strap.

You're leaning up on you elbows as you watch the woman approach you.

Her hands spread your legs as she holds eye contact with you, with her right hand she grabs the strap and teases your slit rubbing the tip from your entrance to your clit and back making you gasp at the contact.

"Ready?" She asks

You smile up at her and nod, Natasha pushes the faux dick in all the way in one stroke making you drop onto your back.

You fill so fully with her strap being a perfect size.

"God Nat please" you gasp. She starts an achingly slow pace as she smiles down at you. "You've never called me Nat before"

You don't respond, only a bit aware of the words leaving her mouth but more focused on the cock slipping in and out with much ease.

"Faster" you breathe "please" Natasha nods and picks up the pace a notch, just enough to have you reaching for the sheets to fist into your hands "how about that?"

When you don't respond she lifts your leg to fuck impossibly deeper "hm?" She hums

"Yes god please" your eyes are becoming heavy but the image of Natasha on top of you is far too delicious to look away.

She picks up the pace and your eyes are drawn to the bounce of her breast again as she takes you.

"Fuck Nat" you moan out.

One hand remains on your hip with the other comes up to grip your tit making you arch your back into her hand.

"You gonna cum?"

All you can do is nod with your mouth agape as you look into your boss's eyes. The hand on your tit now travels down to rub circles on your clit.

"Cum for me" she whispers and almost as if she cast a spell and your body must comply a wave of euphoria washes over your body once again.

"That's right, let go" she murmurs but it goes in one ear and out the other as you're on a totally different planet.

A few seconds later you're back in bed with the woman you've admired for years as she meets your lips in a passionate kiss before sliding the cock from your cunt.

"I'm glad we matched you," you say breathless making the woman next to you let out a chuckle

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

A/N

hope you enjoyed! I have an idea for a part two but idk if ill write it :/

[lovingmidnight]

runway angel

summary: in which your dream company reaches out to work with you, as jude supports you in the crowd.

authors note: I know VS stopped its shows a long time ago but this idea popped in my head and I couldn't come up with any other brands 😭 so yeah some shit might be wrong but how the fuck would I know, I've never been offered a job 💀

it was a sunday evening. you were laying on the couch with judes head on your chest and his torso between your legs. you guys spent the whole evening watching Marvel movies that you almost forgot about Monday snooping around the corner. while Judes eyes almost falling asleep, a vibration shook him awake as my phone was resting on his back.

"babe..." he says, shaking awake to tell me about an incoming call while handing me my phone.

he sat straight as he waited me to take the call, worried of why someone would be calling me at such hour, 2 am on a Sunday.

"Hello, miss y/l/n, we're reaching out to offer you a contract for Victoria's Secret. details emailed to your address and sorry for the disturbance. goodnight from the management company dear y/n."

"oh my gosh-" I move the phone away from my face as I gap my mouth open to judes curious face, soon before taking a breath and answering professionally.

"thank you. will be notifying you. goodnight." I say calmly, processing what just happened just before screaming on the top of my lungs

"What?? who was it??"

I cover my mouth in awe, pulling jude in to hug

"you're scaring me y/n- what happened??"

he says with a tone of laughter in his voice, realizing by my voice it was good news.

"VICTORIA'S FUCKING SECRET" I laugh pulling away to see his face.

jude mouthed out "oh shit" as I grabbed him again, almost falling to tears.

"I'm modeling for Victoria fucking secret." I laughed with tears building upon my eyes.

"I'm so proud of you darling" he kissed the top of my head, holding me tight.

"I'm gonna shit myself jude-" I giggle through my cry

"calm down darling" he chuckled before grabbing my shoulders and pulling me in front to get a look on my face

"when is the show? I'll be there no matter the schedules I have" he smiled

"No way!! you will??" I gasped excitedly, knowing how busy his schedule was, it meant a lot that he was willing to make time for me

"mhm." he nodded, kissing my cheek

wed. 21:03. show night.

they began to touch my makeup up, one person curling my hair, another fixing my eyeliner, another one putting on lipstick as the other rubbed body glitter on my arms.

my outfit was truly the most beautiful thing I've ever worn, let alone seen. black lingerie, mesh tights, real diamond necklace with gorgeous black gloves and last but not least, huge black wings.

"you look gorgeous miss. y/l/n." the stylist smiled at me warmly as I walked up to the curtains, waiting for my name to be called.

"next up: miss. y/n y/l/n". the small tv screen lit up as I took a deep breath and walked outside to the stage.

I strut to the stage, smiling with awe and feeling surreal that this was truly happening. I eyed the audience trying to see him, and there he was. standing up in the crowd, clapping as his eyes told something no words could. he looked like a proud mother which made me smile even more. his eyes met mine and it felt like the first time it did, when we were tense and awkward at first, him getting red everytime our eyes locked. now it felt like it was a part of me, to feel welcome in his eyes.

as I glanced over him, I winked which made him smirk and look down.

the fans saw this interaction which caused our names trending on Twitter, and dozens of edits swarming the internet.

[munv]

𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗤𝗨𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬

Tighnari x kistune reader brainrot has been haunting me for a while now. Send help tumblr ate up all the anons i had im gonna sob fr

Just consider this fluff and forgive me if you see any mistakes!

TIGHNARI could without doubt feel you staring millions or even dozens of holes into his back yet chose to ignore it. Why you may ask? He loves you without doubt and don’t get him wrong because he isn’t upset with you or anything however..he needs to finish this report. He recently found a new plant that had affects that makes you hallucinate but could also be a tad bit dreadful to anyone who doesn’t have at least a good amount of tolerance to toxins. Enough about that though.

Your face looks calm but your tail and ears clearly betray you to say otherwise. I mean you had every reason to be upset with him! Even after he has the nerve to scold everyone else about their health he isn’t doing quite as well when it comes to taking care of himself. It’s like just going against his own words.

Tighnari hasn’t eaten a decent meal since morning, didn’t even take a nap or even bothered to go outside. Sitting at his desk for hours on end while only drinking a cup of water before getting back to work! You could obviously see how he was struggling not to doze off which has surprised you..how isn’t he asleep yet??

Your tails still impatiently waving behind you as you do no job to conceal the aura around you that basically screams “trust you will be dealt with”.

How could tighnari be so cruel as to neglect you and everyone else for the day? It really made you wonder if the work in front of him was more important than his lovely spouse. No matter how snarky and cheeky he gets you couldn’t take it anymore! Quickly getting up from your shared bed to pull his chair back and grabbing his pen with one of your tails and you wrap another one around his hand. Irritation basically oozing from your dissatisfied face.

Surely that was enough to snap him back to reality from that little world. Now realizing the situation he is in Toghnari’s only thought is to submit to you. For one he is way too tired to carry on and two when you get like this it’s quite hard to get you to calm down.

“Love are you by any chance perhaps..u-” Cutting his sentence short you dragged him over to the bed pushing his back first into the soft cushions.

“Oh so you now want to point out the elephant in the room?”

He found it in himself to chuckle a bit at your response. “You’ve been worrying everyone even when you didn’t come for patrol you fool, not to mention collie too! I had to assure her every second of the day that you were perfectly fine.”

You continued to scold him but he was well aware that this is what was coming for him in the end. Halfway through you realized tighnari’s ears were pressed against his head while as his eyes slowly started to close. “Mhh..how about we talk about this in the morning?..’m quite tired..” With the last of his strength he gently but securely wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you down along with him. Which resulted with your head on his chest listening to his calming heart beat almost as if it was second nature.

Peppering his face in kisses once realizing he was asleep, reaching out to turn off the small light you both had next to your bed. And getting comfortable you slowly started to drift off into dream land with your oh so loving husband.

As for the report he was writing? That was tossed somewhere else, something to worry about in the morning. All you could think of was the warmth he had brought you even after being slightly stupid. However what could you do? That was your forest ranger..Tighnari.

[multiversehearts]

Stress Relief

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Stiles Stilinski x Female!Reader

Requested | No

Prompt: Stiles finds himself overwhelmed with the supernatural world, constantly tense with anxiety. So much so that he can’t seem to enjoy his movie date with his long term girlfriend. Too worrisome over Scott, Something she believes she can distract him from.

Warning(s): SMUT, Cursing, vulgar descriptions of sexual acts, oral—male receiving, faint plot, mostly smut. 18+

Master-List

“Stiles…” she mumbled, shifting against his tense side. Struggling to get comfortable when he, himself, seemed to be entirely distracted. Head tilting up to get a read on what he was thinking. Frowning as she took in the way he chewed on his bottom lip. Eyes staring off in a particular manner that made her believe he wasn’t truly focused. Hence his lack of a response.

“Stiles…” she mumbled, shifting against his tense side. Struggling to get comfortable when he, himself, seemed to be entirely distracted. Head tilting up to get a read on what he was thinking. Frowning as she took in the way he chewed on his bottom lip. Eyes staring off in a particular manner that made her believe he wasn’t truly focused. Hence his lack of a response.

“Stiles…” she mumbled, shifting against his tense side. Struggling to get comfortable when he, himself, seemed to be entirely distracted. Head tilting up to get a read on what he was thinking. Frowning as she took in the way he chewed on his bottom lip. Eyes staring off in a particular manner that made her believe he wasn’t truly focused. Hence his lack of a response.

“Babe!” She spoke, raising her voice just enough to snap him out of his little trance. Hand moving to rest upon his knee. Stopping him from bouncing the limb repeatedly, causing his head to snap to the side. Tilted downwards just barely, wide eyes now fully trained on her concerned features.

“I-W-What? Yes, sorry” he stuttered over his words as he fully regained composure. Hesitantly lifting his hand to brush her hair from her face. Giving her an embarrassed smile at his drifting mental state.

“Are you alright? You’ve been wanting to watch this movie for weeks” she queried. Leaning into his touch with warmed cheeks. Trying her best not to flutter her eyes as he ran his fingers up and down the side of her face. Gently tracing her cheek bones.

“I’m alright—“ he nodded and gave her a sweet smile. Feeling lucky to have her by his side, although he couldn’t help but feel guilty for being so distracted. “—it’s just, w-with everything going on. I just can’t get all this wolf stuff out of my head”

She hummed and took a moment to process his words. Knowing that his distress was clearly serious, considering he couldn’t even focus on something as important to him as a new Star Wars installment.

“I…” she paused. Biting her lips as her mind began to go haywire. Thinking of the way his fingers felt against her skin. Or how easy it would be for her to finally take their relationship to the next level. Providing him exactly what he needed, and what Lydia had once described as an irresistible distraction.

“I-I could try and help? If you’d—“ she shifted her gaze down to his lips. Hand rising to rest softly against the one that traced her features. Fingers wrapping around his own in a somewhat innocent fashion. “—if you’d like me to?”

Stiles furrowed his brow at the offer. Curious to what exactly she could do to help him with something he found entirely impossible to rid himself of.

“How could you hel—oh god—“ Stiles gasped as her hand trailed down to press gently against the crotch of his jeans. His mouth falling open for just a moment before clamping shut. Eyes shooting down to her worrisome features as she pulled her hand back to her chest.

“I’m-I’m sorry I shouldn’t have” Embarrassment flooded her body, feeling as if the boys reaction was a sign that she had done something wrong. Only for him to reach out and do his best to reassure her.

“N-no, it’s okay. I promise, it’s more than okay. You just caught me off guard” Stiles breathed. Blinking rapidly as he tried to rid his thoughts of any and all inappropriate images.

Most of which consisted of her hand on his lower region, stroking continuously as he peppered kissed down her chest. An image that caused his pants to tighten ever so slightly.

“Can you…” he cleared his throat and prayed that his voice wouldn’t betray him. Wanting to sound as confident as possible as he spoke. “…keep going?”

Her previously downcast eyes shot upwards to stare at him in shock, pupils blown wide as she took in his request. Taking a moment to process before nodding shyly. Slowly placing her hand back onto his lower region.

“Is this okay?” She mumbled. Rubbing gently over his hardened cock with nervous fingers. Glancing up at the way her boyfriends mouth dropped open, head tilting back ever so slightly at the feeling of her hand right where he needed it.

“It’s—“ he took a deep breath and licked his lips. “It’s m-more than okay”

Determination began to cloud her mind at the way he looked. It was enough to drive her utterly insane, butterflies erupting within her stomach at the pleasure in his eyes.

She wanted to give him everything and more. So she made the move to unbutton his jeans with one hand whilst the other continued to palm at his covered erection.

Leaning forwards as she finally managed to unzip and release him from his pants confinements. She pressed her lips against the base of his tilted neck. Earning a soft groan from his beautiful pink lips.

His hips jutting upwards on instinct as her fingers brushed over the skin of his bare cock. Soon after wrapping fully around its girth. Tongue poking out to lick up the side of his throat.

“F-fuck” he moaned out as her hand began to slowly stroke up and down the base. Just as he had imagined. Although she couldn’t help but notice how it would have been a lot easier, and surely more pleasurable, if there was a bit of lubricant.

Causing her to slowly pull away from his neck and shift to allow her body to tilt downwards, towards his lap. His head shooting up in shock at what she had started to do. Mouth opening to assure her that she didn’t need to do anything she didn’t want to.

Only for the feeling of her lips wrapping around his tip to cut him short. Choked gasps leaving his throat as her tongue licked around him. Head bobbing up and down three to four times, spit dripping down the side of him. Allowing her hand to stroke far smoother than before.

“W-w-woah” he groaned. Head slamming back against the top of the couch. Hand reaching out to grab a fistful of the nearest blanket. Knuckles turning white from pressure as he tried to keep his composure.

Barely aware of the way his hips rutted into her hand. Whimpers and moans leaving his lips every second they were in contact with one another.

“I-I want to touch you” he whimpered. Peeling his eyes open to stare at his girlfriends face. Lips opening and closing as she continued to pump him. Making it impossible for him to focus fully.

Far too nervous to speak, she simply nodded to give him the go ahead. Hand motion stuttering as he reached over to softly trail his fingers over her collarbone. Moving down over the exposed skin to flutter up and over her breasts. Pausing to rub circles atop of her covered nipples.

A gasp left her at the sensation, goosebumps covering her arms as he continued to trail lower and lower. Only stopping once he reached her waistband. Fingering at the edge of her leggings before slowly moving underneath the cloth.

Gently rubbing over her mound, applying just the right amount of pressure above her clit to pull soft mewls out of her. Chest practically heaving as he maneuvered to dip beneath her panties as well.

The tips of his fingers rubbing up and down her center. Meanwhile his eyes, although lidded, were focused on the way she tried to desperately manage her own pleasure. All the while pumping his angry red erection. Precum leaking from the tip, coating her fast paced fingers.

“Stiles—“ she breathed, hand retracting from his lower half to grasp at his wrist. Shock circulating through her body as he inserted his middle finger without warning. Stroking it, in and out, at a slowly increasing pace. “—it feels so good”

The Stilinski boy shifted to lean into the crook of her neck. Repeating actions she had previously taken on his skin, but with a few additional moves. Kissing softly up the side of her throat before taking the lobe of her ear between his teeth. Nibbling as gently as possible before sucking the soft skin into his mouth.

Cock twitching at the way she tightened her hold on his wrist and moaned. The mixture of feelings causing an indescribable sensation to bubble up within her lower stomach.

“Stiles, I want you. Please. I want to feel you” she pleaded breathlessly. Rocking against his fingers to gain more friction. Crying out desperately as they curled within her. Rubbing upon a spot she didn’t even know she had.

“Soon baby, I just want to make you feel good” he confessed. His own pleasures forgotten for the time being. Far too intoxicated by the way she whimpered with every stroke of his hand. Not to mention the way her body rocked into him, chest heaving as she begged for a release.

“But I want you-your—“ her head pushed further back as he sped up his pace. A dopey smile on his lips as his other hand reached down to pump his own cock. Imagining what it would feel like to replace his fingers right then and there.

“I know baby, just a little bit longer. You’re doing so good” he whispered. Feeling the way her walls clenched around his fingers.

“I-I’m— oh god, you’re going to make me cum” she whined. Repetitive moans leaving her lips in gasped intervals. Back arching as he continued the brutal pace. Not holding back, even when her orgasm finally managed to wash over her.

“So good baby, so good” he whimpered. Feeling his own release rise as he continued to pump his lower half. Fingers curling and stroking inside of her to the same rhythm. Overstimulating her in a way that caused her to shake against his hand.

“Stiles—“ she gasped and rutted vigorously upon his curling fingertips. Walls clenching once more as the continued movements built a second wave of tension. Following just in time with his own release.

The two letting own loud moans at the same time. Spurts of cum shooting from the tip of his cock as her own form grew limp. Chest heaving and body twitching as he slowed the motion of his fingers.

One final gasp escaping her as he removed himself from her pants. The light of the television screen reflecting off the liquid coating his fingers. His girlfriend finding herself far too tuckered out to overthink such an action.

“If that’s what I get for being overly stressed—“ stiles huffed and pressed a loving kiss to her forehead. “—then I will be making it far more obvious, far more often”

[sprout-fics]

Little Mouse

(König x F! Reader)

Masterlist here!

Word count: 4.8k Rating: Teen and Up Tags: Female Reader, Sniper Reader, Abductions, Interrogations, Hostage situation, Injuries, Kidnapping, Rescues, 141 Reader Warnings: Abduction, Semi-unwanted touching A/N: This is my first official attempt at a König piece, hopefully it isn't terrible

Summary:

Hands. One on your wrist, the other on your shoulder. You sigh at first, relieved and thankful, expecting Gaz's voice to filter through the buzz between your ears, concerned and urgent. Yet there's only silence, a solitude that leaves you empty and reaching for the familiar, for your comrade to right you, help you limp to safety.

It's not him.

The hands are too large, too broad, and when they touch you it isn't with a firm, insistent touch you expect from the sergeant. No, they're rough, shoving, pulling, flipping you over even as that crack inside you threatens to fracture further, pain blossoming bright and scarlet behind your eyelids. You can hardly move, but even then you try to struggle, writhing and kicking weakly at whoever it is who's seized you, who's lifting you up into their arms. You rise, and then rise higher, dully realizing that whoever this is, they're huge.

Something covers your face. Your body jostles as the person who has your limp form tossed over their shoulder moves, marching away, into the night.

The world is spinning, shaking. You're caught in a rogue wave, tumbling and twisting under the ocean's surface as the inertia of it carries you, lifts you. Air seeps from your lungs, choked with dust and debris as you feel it float upwards. You try to follow it, try to discern which way is up, struggling towards the surface of your own consciousness only to sink deeper, deeper into the abyss.

Gaz is laying somewhere nearby. He had been right beside you when the blast went off. You had heard a voice just before the clatter of metal had caught both of your attention. Thick, accented, thunderous. It had startled you, distracted you enough that it took a moment too long for you to react.

You had heard Gaz scream, voice rising to a fever pitch before he lunged for you, reaching, hands outstretched-

You don't ever remember hearing the sound. A flash of brightness more radiant than the sun itself, burning through your night vision goggles and searing your vision. The blast had sent you reeling backwards, body thrown into the cracked concrete wall behind you just as reality faded to indiscernible shapes and sounds.

When you breathe, you taste blood on your lips, dust from the grenade coating your tongue. Something inside you feels cracked, broken. When you suck in air there's a bright, burning flash of pain that digs inside your veins, blunted by the shock of your impact and the sheer, ringing noise of the world around you.

"Gaz..." You try, reaching out an arm as you lay on your side, trying to find your comrade in the darkness. He doesn't respond, and that's enough to send alarm spiking through you, eyes blinking open in a vain attempt to locate the sergeant within the pitch black of the ruined house. He had been closer to the grenade, you think, trying to push you out of the realm of the blast while you had been frozen, foolishly stupefied by the voice-

The voice-

You still, and a new dread courses through you now at the realization that someone had tossed the grenade, that your sniper nest has been compromised, that you two aren't alone.

"Gaz-!" You try again, managing to scoot yourself forward half a foot to where you think he might be. Fires flicker around you both, small flames from the larger burn outside that casts dancing shadows on the inside of the room. They must have missed, you think. The grenade had clattered against the outside wall, the worst of the blast absorbed by the concrete and yet still enough to send debris raining down on you both, knock you both to the floor and render you prone.

Hands. One on your wrist, the other on your shoulder. You sigh at first, relieved and thankful, expecting Gaz's voice to filter through the buzz between your ears, concerned and urgent. Yet there's only silence, a solitude that leaves you empty and reaching for the familiar, for your comrade to right you, help you limp to safety.

It's not him.

The hands are too large, too broad, and when they touch you it isn't with a firm, insistent touch you expect from the sergeant. No, they're rough, shoving, pulling, flipping you over even as that crack inside you threatens to fracture further, pain blossoming bright and scarlet behind your eyelids. You can hardly move, but even then you try to struggle, writhing and kicking weakly at whoever it is who's seized you, who's lifting you up into their arms. You rise, and then rise higher, dully realizing that whoever this is, they're huge.

"K-Kyle-!" You call, trying to summon his aid, wherever he lays in the settling dust. "Kyle, h-help-"

Something covers your face. Your body jostles as the person who has your limp form tossed over their shoulder moves, marching away, into the night.

---

The world comes back to you in dull, ashen washes of color, shades of smoke and bones that throb on the inside of your skull with a distant, pulsing pain. When you suck in air, you feel the carve of whatever injury nestles below your chest spike, laced with a blooming bruise that  extends outwards along your ribs. It summons a hiss from you, a sharp exhale as you force yourself to breathe through the pain.

It's remarkably silent, you notice, as you begin to take in the details of the world around you. The pop of gunfire, the crackle of smoldering embers has long since been extinguished, and in its place is the simple, quiet drip of a damp interior. The world around you remains shaded, caught in inky darkness as a single, flickering lantern casts a pale light into the cell you've been placed in.

Your eyes flick over to the bars then, taking in the puddled hallway. Immediately you rise, unable to stop a cry at whatever is broken inside you flaring to life once more. It takes a moment, but you swing your legs over the cot shoved hastily into the corner, standing and limping to the doorway. Yet when you peer into the dimness of the hallway there's nothing there.

Empty.

You force a sigh, bitter and disappointed, tinged with guilt as you lean against the stone wall to your side. At your waist your hands clink in their cuffs, the metal biting at your wrists.

Captured then. Ambushed and taken by surprise and then taken, whisked away into the dead of night while Gaz remained alone, injured, worse. The bite of it digs inside you, deeper than any wound, fear for yourself and worry for your comrade clogging your throat. You force it down, breathe despite the pain, despite the mounting panic inside you, trying to regain your sense of logic.

Captured, but by who?

The cell you and Gaz had been tracking had no idea you were there, you were sure of it. They hadn't noticed either of you set up on the hill, scopes at the ready and voices low into your comms. Yet you can still remember the touch of the person who took you- as you were slung over a hulking frame, hands engulfing your wrists, the width of your arms.

A monster.

As if summoned from the shadows by the mere thought, you hear footsteps down the hallway. Heavy, rumbling, as if they shake at the earth themselves.

It takes mere moments for you to press yourself away from the bars, backing yourself up against the rear wall of the cell just as a hulking figure casts a shadow over your form.

You freeze.

A towering stature, clad in shades of black and green. You follow him from his boots upwards, taking note of his thighs, the side of trunks and his solid, immovable weight. His hands hang loose at his sides, forearms covered in plated armor and fingers twitching. Yet it's only once your eyes rise to his face that you flinch, shiver at what you find there.

His eyes. Hidden underneath a hood, and where there's holes there's track marks, as if tear trails have bleached the fabric. You can't contain a shudder, not when this man before you looks for all the world like an executioner, his eyes unblinking, seeing the end of your fate. They stare at you, gaze downward at your tensed form, squinting in the darkness. Observing. Watching.

"Awake?" This man, this giant asks, and his voice is warbled with an accent that you think sounds Germanic. Yet the words are in English, and for a moment you see his eyes flicker down to the flag stitched across your sleeve.

You swallow, and in your stomach you know what comes next. You were taken alive for a reason, after all. Whatever this man wants from you requires your immediate survival, although it's uncertain for how long.

"Where are we?" You ask instead, jaw grit and eyes flashing defiance.

He tilts his head at you then, and the gesture seems strange somehow, as if he's studying you, trying to see through your courage. Yet he doesn't reply to your question, and instead reaches for his belt, withdrawing a set of keys that he uses to unlock the door.

"S-stay back!" You try as he enters the cell, has to slightly duck under the doorway due to his height. The room seems so much smaller with him in it, as he occupies the entire door frame, the scant space between the foot of the cot and your only chance at escape.

"Easy, fräu​lein." He tells you, raising his hands in a gesture that should be placating but only inspires a sharp surge of fear in you. "I'm not going to hurt you."

You snort derisively, ignoring the tremble in your hands as you press yourself further into the wall.

"I have a hard time believing that." You hiss at him, and again he tilts his head at you, a cat curious about the mouse it's cornered.

"It's true." He tries again, and the soft tenor of his voice is almost jarring, seemingly polite despite his terrifying appearance. "You tell me what I need to know, I let you leave, da?"

You pause, regard him, brow furrowed and lips pursed, see the way he has his hands lifted in assurance, not stepping closer. It's a trick, you're certain of it, and yet you have no choice but to play along, feign surrender and bide your time till you make your escape. So, you nod, a single, hesitant jerk of your head that has him dropping his hands, shifting so he leans against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Your name?" He asks, and the disconcerting nonchalance of his tone again has you casting him a look of suspicion, trying to understand this sudden shift in him.

"What's yours?" You return instead, watching his fingers scratch along the top of his arms.

"...König." He tells you after a pause.

"Rookie." You return. The fingers stop.

"That's not your real name." He states, tone dipping lower, a whisper of what should be a warning.

"Neither is yours."

"Hmm."

He shifts, fidgeting. You trace the motion, still as you are, hands flexing and eyes darting to the keys on his belt.

"The soldiers you are with." He speaks, drawing your attention to him once more. "Who are they?"

You blink then, show your hand and react to his question, perplexed.

"You should know." You reply slowly, sensing a trap. "You were the one that attacked us, weren't you?"

The man, König, is silent. There's an interest in his gaze you can't shake, a keenness that feels too sharp, narrowed in on you. Just you.

So, you venture a little farther, wetting your lips before speaking. "My friend. The one with me, is he alive?"

He blinks then, eyes briefly fluttering at you. The motion feels oddly human for this beast of a man, and again you feel that shiver run through you like a cold winter wind.

"...He was alive when we left."

Relief, warm and grateful, makes your shoulders sink perceptibly, the breath you had been holding wheezing free from your lungs. Gaz is alive. Knowing him, he probably made it to safety before the cell you were watching discovered him, vanishing into the woods and leaving them unaware.

"Why..." You suddenly speak, words caught dangerously in your throat. "Why didn't you kill him?"

König stills, his fidgeting halting at your question. You see his eyes narrow at you from under the hood, seeking your face in the darkness.

"He wasn't my target." He replies at last, and there's a tone to his words you can’t decipher, a hidden meaning shrouded behind the darkness of his eyes. "You were."

"Me?" You ask abruptly, eyebrows raising in surprise. "Why?"

"I ask the questions." König states, and he stands from the wall, looming to his full height and taking a step closer to you, annoyed by your persistence.

You scoff, fear simmering higher in your stomach, but you refuse to cede ground, staring up at him defiantly.

"Yeah, and you're doing a great job at it." You mock sardonically.

Another step.

"You aren't making it easy, fräu​lein." He growls, and this time you do feel that fear threaten to burst. He's closer now, too close, and you have to look up in order to meet his gaze as his figure blots light from the only lantern that allows you to see in the darkness.

"Who are the other soldiers you are with?" König demands again, voice dipping low as a rumble in his chest. "What are their names?"

You should be staying quiet, should be giving him nothing. Yet his earlier concessions have emboldened you, and now you feel a spike of defiance flash through you at his insistent questions.

"You don't even know who you attacked, do you?" You ask, voice trembling between fear and a hysterical giddiness at his frustration. "That's why I'm here, why you took me, isn't it? Because you don't even know who you're fighting!"

König snarls then, surging forward and planting a single massive hand on the stone wall next to your head. The other shoots forward, reaching up to seize the lower half of your face in a near bruising grip. The height of it drags you an inch up the wall, and the rough scrape of the stone against your bruised back is enough to make you groan in pain.

König pauses.

Your eyes are scrunched as you bite back a whimper that threatens to escape. It hurts. There's a rhythmic, stabbing sensation in your ribs and a bruised, bludgeoned pain across your shoulders. When you try and raise your shackled hands to push off the man before you they flail at him, arms shaking through the pain that seems to radiate like fractal lighting along your torso.

His grip lightens.

"You are hurt." He states blankly, and his tone is confused, almost disbelieving as a shudder ripples through you.

You grunt as you twist, and his hand loosens across your face, drifting downward to settle on your shoulder instead.

"Yeah, that tends to happen when you use grenades instead of words as your introduction." You hiss at him, but the true bite of your words is blunted by the stress of your injuries.

"Let me see."

"What? No-!" You try, twisting away from him. Yet the motion only inflames your likely fractured rib, and you grimace, slump down the wall. Before you can slide away König's grip settles on your arm, and those same hands that had held you so roughly soften, encircling your bicep as he keeps you steady.

You glance at him, eyes turning upwards to his hooded gaze, looming over your smaller figure. The menace, the cold seems softer there, brow furrowed and stare glinting down at you. It's...disconcerting, whatever this is, the way he's suddenly fixated on you not as his prey, but his captive, his responsibility.

It flickers, then it's gone.

"You won't be able to answer my questions if you're bleeding out." He tells you, voice rough, and it sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than he's trying to persuade you.

"Good." You snap at him instead, painful irritation prickling under your skin. "Because I'm not telling you anything."

There's a spark then, something that almost seems like amusement under his hood. It tugs at the corners of his eyes, squinting, and for a moment you feel again like a mouse, cornered by a cat who hovers a claw dangerously close to your smaller form.

"We shall see." Is all he tells you, and you shudder at the promise there.

Yet then he releases you, hands vanishing as he's leaning back, giving you space. It startles you for a moment, this sudden motion of his that leaves you reeling in his absence. König only studies for, head tilting at the confusion that passes over your face before nodding to the cot.

"Sit." He tells you, and it's not a request.

Against your better judgment you follow the command, shuffling so as to keep distance between him and you, eyes never leaving his form. He watches as you plop down, observes the grimace at the movement that sends a stabbing ache digging at your ribs.

You start when he takes a step towards you, voice suddenly cracking in your throat as you manage: "I-I'm not bleeding."

"On the outside." He returns. Another step.

"Please." You suddenly gasp, as you scoot back along the bed, as he looms over you in the darkness. Your previous defiance feels cracked in your throat, chalky and drowned in fear at the man who towers above your form. "Don't- don't hurt me."

He pauses then, hands halfway stretched towards you but freezing where they are. His eyes are wide under his hood, and even in the dim lighting you can see the whites of them as he stops, digests your frantic plea.

"I'm not...going to hurt you, Maus." He speaks, and there's a conflict there you don't understand, his voice wavering on the title he's given you, fitting given your circumstances. "I need to make sure you aren't bleeding on the inside."

You don't respond, not at first, heart thumping wildly in your chest at his enormous shadow cast over you. Yet you can't help the lingering parlor of fear at his words, doubt at your own body. You haven't checked, haven't been able to discern the extent of your own injuries, and you know it's entirely likely he's right, that maybe something inside you was bruised or ruptured in the collision, that it may only be a matter of time before the symptoms present themselves.

Even so, you tremble when his hands land on you, a single wide palm splaying across your front.

"Wo." He asks, even as you flinch when he drums his fingers over the vest shielding you from his bare touch. "Where?"

"...Ribs." You manage at last, torn between keeping your eyes scrunched shut and refusing to take your gaze off him. Your face feels warm. He's too close like this, leaning over you, one knee wedged between your legs, the heat of him radiating into your space. "F-fractured, I think."

He hums, and the sound itself feels like the churning of glaciers, ancient and grinding low inside him. You think his hands will dig under your shirt, rip off your vest, trail his fingers up your ribs. It's a surprise when he simply ghosts over the underside of your tac vest, gently lifting it to probe where you press your hand to quell the pain. You hiss at the contact, resisting the urge to turn away, to vainly push him aside.

"You're so...small." He marvels as he gingerly presses down along your side, inspecting for any soreness that might indicate internal bleeding. "Soft."

You ignore that, ignore the way your face warms at his voice, almost mystified by your smaller frame under his hand. You half expect his touch to roam, for him to lean closer, closer into you. Yet König is surprisingly clinical, his touch clumsy but sincere as he searches for injuries.

He's...warm. The heat of him seeping through his glove, lighting against your chilled skin under your clothes.

You shake away the thought before it fully forms, flinching when König finds a hidden bruise.

"Broken." He mutters at last and seems almost reluctant to pull away from you. "But no bleeding. You're lucky."

"I-I feel lucky." You manage, voice shaking and yet desperately trying to regain control. "Got ambushed, injured, and kidnapped. It's been a great day so far."

König huffs at you, amused and annoyed. Yet instead of drawing completely away from your figure he instead sinks, kneels to your level.

"A name, Maus." He tells you, voice lower, quiet. "A name, and then I'll get you some water, medicine for the pain."

The temptation is an ugly one, you'll admit that much. You're dehydrated, tired, in need of proper rest so you can conserve your energy, find a way out. It won't be easy to escape like this, injured and untreated as you are. Even if you do manage to slip past him, you have no doubt he'd be able to chase you down, broken and wilted as you are.

So, you give him a name. Yours.

He quiets, stares at you, eyes unblinking for what seems like eons, red rimmed and wide. You feel pinned under them, under his focused, piercing gaze, and he's close, too close, but the menace you originally felt is gone. There's something there instead you don't understand- a curiosity, an intent you cannot name.

He repeats it, voice curling over the sound as if rolling a candy under his tongue.

You suppress a shiver at that, at the way he fails to hide his blatant fascination with you.

"And your company?" He requests, and you almost fall for it, the casual, almost friendly way he asks you about your secrets.

You stay silent, lips pursed, brow drawn, refusing to speak.

The brightness in his eyes flashes, fades into something deeper, darker at your stubbornness.

"Your company, Maus." He insists, voice lowering. A hand flexes on his knee.

He won't hurt you. He said he wouldn't hurt you.

"The 141." You murmur, and something stabs inside you, guilty and hurt over your own betrayal.

"One four one." König echoes, accent turning over the numbers in a low rumble.

You nod, heart racing, breath quickening, unable to tear your gaze away from him even as you desperately want to, want to run, run away from here.

"Good." König purrs and withdraws at last. Breath tumbles freely from your chest, damp and warm fogging into the air. Without his massive body so close you feel the cold returning, seeping back into your limbs in all the places he didn't touch. For a moment you feel the inertia of that rogue wave pull at you once more, except this time when you surface it isn't to fire and destruction but to him, grounding and grave like the shadows around him.

He stands, observes you for a few extra moments, as you try not to wither under his stare. You wish you could understand what it is about you that perplexes him so, seems to grab his attention as his eyes narrow in on your face.

It almost feels like he wants to eat you alive.

"Stay put, Maus." He tells you, voice distant, distracted. He takes a single step towards the door-

and the entire building shakes.

Your eyes shoot up then, jolting to your feet as dust shifts downwards from the ceiling and the ground briefly shudders under you. König seems as surprised as you are, eyes wide under his hood as his gaze lifts upwards.

He curses, the sound grating and harsh in his native tongue, and when his eyes land back on you, you spring.

You duck under his outstretched hand, gritting through the pain of your injury so hard your teeth crack, dashing for the cell door and shoving at it. To your surprise it swings open, creaking and rusty against your insistent push.

You get exactly five steps down the hallway before he reaches you, a single hand catching you by your arm, hauling you up and against his front.

"What made you think we were done, Maus?" He asks, eyes narrowed down at you, and your heart sinks to your feet.

Yet when he tries to lift you, to throw you over his shoulder you scream, thrash against him. Ignoring the radiant flare of hurt that gouges through you as you twist, struggle, fueled by adrenaline even as the building shudders again around you both.

"No!" You scream, furious and afraid. "Let me GO!"

"Stop- urgh making this hard, fräu​lein." König shoots back as he tries to maintain a grip on you, and yet it's his words that make you shout louder, squirm harder in his hands.

There's a shout down the hallway, loud and urgent, tinged in an accent that you recognize.

"Ghost!" You scream, voice echoing down into the darkness where you can't yet see him. "LT, he-!"

A hand covers your face.

"That's another name you've given me." König murmurs, leaning down so his hood drapes across your shoulder, his voice curling against your ear. "I'll have to make do with that for now, kleine Maus."

You freeze, panic flooding your veins in an icy wash of fear. Yet it's stunted when you're abruptly released, and you spin to face him, this monster of a man who's touch has vanished from you.

He's turned away from you, facing down the hallway opposite where Ghost's voice echoes from. Your confusion dulls your senses, the mystery of why he's chosen to let you go, instead of kidnap, even kill you is impossible to understand.

"For now." König echoes, and you see his eyes under the lantern that swings wildly back and forth, dancing shadows across his hood. A spirit, a poltergeist.

You don't give it a second thought, spinning and racing towards safety, in the direction of your allies who have come to rescue you. König's footfalls fade into the darkness away from you, vanishing into the same dark night into which he carried you.

When you glance back, he's gone.

A voice calls out for you again, and you hone in on it, feet splashing sloppily through puddles as you limp in the direction of your team.

"I'm here!" You yell, voice cracking with the effort it takes to call to them. Your eyes adjust to the darkness, and after a few moments you see a figure waver free of the dimness.

"Rookie." Ghost breathes, lifting his goggles and reaching for you. You land on his arm to steady yourself, breathing hard and gasping for air. "Thank fuck."

You think he's alone until there's a crackle behind him, a radio warbling with a question from the captain.

"Affirm, Cap." Soap speaks into the handset strapped to his vest, and his eyes twinkle at you with relief. "Package has been located."

"Good." Price's voice replies gruffly over the comms. "Now get out of there before the whole building comes down on you."

"Rog."

"Gaz." You gasp, clinging to Ghost's arm, your relief and joy at the sight of your comrades short lived. "Kyle. Is he-?"

"The sergeant is fine." Ghost tells you, and you almost collapse into him with gratitude. "We need to move, now."

Yet when he turns you stumble, legs shaking and breath wheezing in your chest.

"Are you hurt?" Soap asks at once, slipping past Ghost to hover at your side, lifting an arm to sling it over his shoulder.

"Rib. Broken." You manage, and the Scotsman curses.

"The bastard that took you- did he do this?" He hisses, and there's fury there, dark and thunderous at the thought you may have been beaten, abused in the short time it took for them to reach you. "Gaz caught a glimpse of him, mammoth fellow."

"No." You manage, and you blink, turn to cast a glance over your shoulder into the darkness where König disappeared.

"He...didn't hurt me."

You don't hear whatever Soap says next, but you're moving, striding forward as the building lurches and shudders around you, as you struggle with them to safety.

Yet König's words linger, like a forbidden proverb, haunting the space inside of you with their dark, eerie promise.

For now.

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