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cactus-cuddler · 3 months

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝑺𝒑𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 // second part

Natasha Romanoff

x female reader

Here you can find the first part!

Word count: 3,2k

Plot: you and Natasha are two spies who have worked together for many years. During these years, a particular chemistry has arisen between you that will make something emerge that you couldn't have foreseen

Genre: Romantic Erotica

Warnings: this story contains descriptions of sexual activity

Author's note: I remind you that English is not my first language so sorry for any errors you may find in the text!

“We have a new mission,” Natasha announces, her eyes on you. You still feel out of breath, a sense of dissatisfaction lingering inside you. She finds you absolutely adorable, especially because it's all thanks to her that you're now in this state.

With every mission, you always risk your life to save innocents, and lately, you've been wondering if it's worth continuing. Every time you return home after days of fighting and killing, you ask yourself, "Am I doing the right thing?" You think about it with every new mission but always end up starting again without reaching a conclusion.

“Should we go to the boss now?" you ask her. Before each mission, your boss sends someone to the home of one of the spies with a code phrase to announce a new task. The phrase is, "Do you have some salt for my zucchini soup?"

“Yes,” she answers and opens her closet to take out some more suitable clothes for the occasion. She undresses in front of you, showing herself to you again. You stare at her as she shamelessly changes, watching how her buttocks move as she pulls on some black panties. She turns to you and smiles.

"Feel like picking my lingerie today?” she provokes you. You unexpectedly say yes and walk over to her closet, looking at the intimates she possesses. You choose a transparent lace thong and a bra that are also transparent enough to show her nipples. You didn't think Natasha owned underwear like that; you saw her as one for sports bras and comfortable panties.

“Would you like to help me slip into these?" she asks, and you feel a tingling between your thighs. You accept the challenge without hesitation. You carefully remove the panties she had previously worn and help her put on the ones you chose, making sure the fabric between her buttocks doesn't bother her. Then you put on her bra, which covers her breasts perfectly, giving her a good cleavage.

“Let me help you too," she whispers and retrieves your underwear and clothes from the kitchen. After putting on your underwear, she gives you a playful spank, making you jump and a surprised scream escapes your lips.

“You were lucky they interrupted us; otherwise, you wouldn't even be able to stand up," she whispers two centimeters from your lips, placing a chaste and delicate kiss there, different from the ones you exchanged less than ten minutes ago.

To get to your boss' office, each spy's room has a button behind a painting that opens a slide to take you directly to the front of his office. It's on an underground level, illuminated mainly by artificial light since the sun's rays cannot reach it. His secretary welcomes you warmly, looking Natasha up and down. She notices this, winks at her, causing the woman to blush. You think it's the Natasha effect that has power over you too. The woman is tall, with long slender legs wrapped in a long skirt, perfect, well-groomed black hair that reaches her mid-back, and a pretty but sensual face. If Natasha has a prototype girl, it's definitely that, and you feel helpless in front of her beauty, with jealousy hitting you like an arrow. The woman opens the door for you and then closes it again, positioning herself in front of it while you and your colleague sit in front of your boss.

The walls are white and immaculate, looking freshly painted. It is furnished in an ancient Greek style, giving it an epochal but elegant atmosphere.

“This is a dangerous mission," he warns you. The man in front of you is tall and powerful, with a handsome and well-groomed face without the shadow of a beard. He has penetrating green eyes and is very attractive. It's hard to believe that a dense spy network is controlled by him.

“If it wasn't dangerous, you wouldn't have called us," Natasha replies in her usual seductive voice. Something about her makes you feel attracted in an unorthodox way, and you can't repress it. The moment you shared continues to reverberate in your mind, and now that you are more clear-headed, you are thinking about the consequences of how you feel about each other. You are afraid that there are feelings beyond sexual attraction, only on your part. Because yes. You are not only attracted to Natasha sexually but also spiritually. You need her, and you need her body. It has a strange effect on you, an effect that she shouldn't have on you.

The man explains what you have to do, step by step, recommending you not to reveal your identity even under torture or to an apparently innocent child. You have to head to Hawaii, where a woman is hiding, and you have to find her and neutralize her. It doesn't matter how, but you have to eliminate her. Her name is Nicole Jamisson, she is forty years old and was a former spy. She's selling top secret information to people not authorized to have it and now she's taking a vacation. Her last vacation in her entire life, you think.

You continue to look at Natasha, being careful not to let her see you. You observe how her hair moves with her head, how her lips move, and you carefully watch the movement of her hands. She notices you, catches your gaze, smiles at you, and you feel something inside you warm up. You immediately look away toward the perfect walls of the office.

You are ready to leave immediately after your boss shows you a photo of this woman, but you don't understand how it can be useful to you. She will surely have changed her appearance to avoid being easily found, but this won't stop you.

The flight is scheduled for early tomorrow morning, and you and Natasha have agreed to go shopping for some cute swimsuits and warm weather clothes together. One thing you love about your job is the expense reimbursement. You can go shopping pretending you need it for the mission, and they will reimburse it! It's not the first time you and Natasha have gone shopping together before a mission; it's now a tradition of yours.

You are in a large shopping center; everything you can imagine you could definitely find here. From food to objects. Inside, divided into three floors, there are many famous brand shops but there is no shortage of more humble shops. Each shop is decorated according to the type of goods sold while outside them the dominant colors are beige and green. There are soft armchairs in which the fathers of the family wait for the mother to finish and there is the smell of good food in the air. From ice cream to hot crepes to pizzas and sushi. You already know in your mind what you need to buy and, having come here many times, you know exactly where to find it. First visit to an underwear shop to buy some costumes. You can't go to Hawaii without having a nice one!

While looking at some costumes that might look good on you, you notice Natasha lost in thought. She is carefully looking at a costume, and you think she is debating whether to take it or not, so you decide to help her.

“That swimsuit would look amazing on you, don’t you think?," you tell her. It's definitely not her style, but it would suit her.

"Imagining you in that… pretty distraction," she says seriously, as if the most perverse thing ever had not come out of her lips. You flush and feel embarrassed because you're not alone. There are other people walking around the store who might have just overheard what Natasha told you.

You finish shopping, each with three bags full of things. You were lucky enough to have caught a day of sales with discounts of up to 70%. You greet the condo concierge, who welcomes you with a broad smile. He's definitely a spy placed to keep the common people safe in case someone gives out information about this place, but you're not sure. If you were the boss, it would be one of the things you would want to do, knowing normal people with a family and maybe a cat are in danger. You go up the elevator. There are ten floors in total, so it will take a while to get there. The same air that led you to an intimate relationship fills the elevator, and after a few seconds, you find yourself once again entangled in a passionate moment. Natasha lifts one of your thighs, digging her nails into it. She holds you to her in a possessive way, eager to take you there in that elevator. But it stops, and a woman in her thirties surprises you in that dirty kiss. You break away and say "good evening" to the woman, who decides to come between you with the fear that you might continue doing what you were doing. Natasha looks at you with desire still in her eyes, thinking that it's not exactly her day. You arrive at her floor, and she takes her bags and leaves, planting a tender kiss on your cheek in front of thewoman's prying eyes. You don't give such a sweet kiss to a woman whose body you desire, and upon understanding it, you smile like a teenager.

After a day like that, you just want to throw yourself into bed with your pajamas and your cat and sleep as long as you can before leaving for the mission that awaits you. You can't help but think, "What if I don't save myself this time?" Your thoughts are interrupted by a notification from your phone. It's Natasha.

"How about some pre-mission cuddle tonight?"

"Why?"

"I've always wanted to just hold you close before heading out. There's time to enjoy your company in Hawaii :)

Then you told me that you are always afraid before leaving. I'd like to reassure you a little.”

You don't even have time to answer, and your doorbell rings. You find yourself in front of Natasha wearing children's pajamas, a teddy bear-shaped stuffed animal, and some gummy sweets.

"I didn't want to make you inconvenience me, so here I am," she tells you on the threshold of the door with a smile on her lips.

"I remembered that you were crazy about these," she adds, handing you a bag of sweets, and you let her in.

You go to the bedroom, inside you know and hope that there won't just be cuddles in that bed. You position yourself next to each other and Natasha starts rubbing your arm first.

"How long have you had feelings for me?" you ask Natasha as she plays sweetly with your hair. Her scent envelops you like a warm blanket and you keep your head resting on her chest. Her heartbeat can barely be heard but it beats very softly and quickly. Her feelings are true.

"When I saw you for the first time I was surprised by how beautiful you were. I immediately felt a connection with you, but my gaze seemed to terrify you, so I wanted to avoid intruding into your private life," she explains, her hands moving gently on your face. She makes small circles on your cheeks and that very simple gesture relaxes you and fills your stomach with butterflies.

"You didn't scare me," you reply, filling your mouth with the sweets you love so much. "I was intimidated by your charm and you have a strange effect on me... I don't know how to explain it to you," you add later.

"I'm happy I found the courage to try to make a move with you," she says with a sigh, her caresses becoming sweeter and more tender.

"Natasha Romanoff who didn't have the courage to do something?" you mock her, giggling. To get revenge for your joke, she pinches your cheek.

"Be careful how you speak," she teases you.

"Otherwise?" Your sentence lights a spark in what was supposed to be a cuddle evening. But you're happy with what you just triggered. Natasha reaches inside your pajama bottoms.

"Is this what you wanted?" she asks, whispering in your ear and then playing with her tongue on your earlobe. She starts touching your pussy directly without caring about the fabric of your panties and inserts two fingers. A scream of pleasure escapes your lips as Natasha's fingers fill you. Your body seems created to accommodate her, everything she touches simply sends you on fire. Her thrusts are firm, she doesn't want to give you any mercy. She wants to make you scream her name and make you understand that the only one who can have you is her and only her.

“Have they ever said I love you while they fuck you like I'm doing?" She whispers to you while your slow legs tremble at her thrusts. You just shake your head no and she whispers.

"I love you, kukolka," while you come on her fingers. She puts her hands in your mouth and forces you to suck them so you can taste yourself. "I love you too," you whisper between spasms.

"Let's finish what we started this morning" you plead and she smiles at you smugly. In an instant all your clothes are at the foot of your bed and she is on top of you. You eat your lips as if they were strawberry jelly and in the meantime she stimulates your clit with her fingers. She dominates your mouth so you don't scream from the pleasure you're feeling right now. You feel like you want to take command and position yourself above her, between her legs. Make your intimacy stick together and while she sinks her nails into your left buttock you set a pace that can satisfy you both.

"I didn't imagine you being such a slut" Natasha says between sighs, biting her lower lip. You feel another orgasm about to take over your body but before then you position yourself with your face between Natasha's legs. You sink a finger inside her and lick her clit in the meantime. You're not going to stop until you feel her juices on your face. Natasha gently caresses your head asking for more and you please her until you are filled with her between your lips.

"Fuck, you're killing me" she compliments and then you lie down next to each other again, full of sweat and other sweet liquids and out of breath. You look at each other and smile at each other, complicit in what just happened.

"I really just wanted cuddles" Natasha says between sighs and you make a guilty expression. If Natasha had come there to you you wouldn't have allowed her to go without tasting her and feeling her inside you. With you.

You fall asleep hugging each other, sealing the birth of a relationship destined to last. As you lie there, thoughts about the upcoming mission swirl in your mind. Tomorrow, you will leave for Hawaii to track down Nicole Jamisson. She was once one of you-a spy-but now she sells secrets to the highest bidder. You can't help but wonder how she went from being a colleague to a target.

Would you end up the same way one day? Would Natasha? The thought makes your chest tighten. You can't bear the idea of losing her, not now, not after everything. 'I won't let that happen,' you think, your resolve hardening. 'This will be my last mission. After this, Natasha and I can leave this life behind. We can be together without the constant threat of death looming over us.

With that final thought, you drift off to sleep, feeling more determined than ever to make it through tomorrow-and the many tomorrows after that-alive and together.

The next morning you wake up to the news that your flight has been canceled and your mission aborted. The news that the flight has been canceled and the mission aborted because of the explosion of the plane leaves you petrified. The voice from the newscast echoes in your head as the world seems to stop around you. Fifty people dead, families destroyed in an instant. The realization of how close you were to death hits you like a punch in the gut. Natasha watches you with concern, reading the anguish on your face. Without saying a word, she wraps you in a warm embrace, her strong body against yours, offering the comfort that only she can provide. You stay like that for a long moment, the silence filled only by the sound of your hearts beating.

"You know," you finally murmur, "I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep risking my life like this. Life is too short. I want to live every minute with you." She looks into your eyes, the green of her eyes shining with understanding and love.

"Me too," she says simply, holding you tighter.

You and Natasha walk into your boss's office, determination etched on both your faces. The white, immaculately painted walls and the ancient Greek decor that once seemed impressive now feel like a facade hiding the dangers of your profession. Your boss looks up from his desk, his penetrating green eyes locking onto yours.

“We need to talk,” Natasha says firmly, taking a step forward. She places an envelope containing your resignation letters on his desk. He raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair.

“I assume this is about the explosion?”

“Yes,” you reply, your voice steady but filled with emotion.

“Nicole Jamisson knew about our mission. The plane exploded to prevent us from reaching her. How did she get that information?” Your boss's face hardens.

“We’re investigating. But I assure you, our security protocols are—”

“Your security protocols failed!” Natasha interrupts, her voice rising. “Fifty people are dead. Fifty innocent lives lost because of a leak in our system. And what if they had decided to blow up this building instead?” Your boss's expression darkens, but he remains silent.You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves.

“What would have happened if they had wanted to blow up this condo directly? Do you realize how many lives would be at risk, including ours? We’ve put our lives on the line for this organization time and time again, but this… this is too much.” Natasha nods, her hand finding yours for support. “We can’t continue like this. We can’t work in an environment where our safety is compromised at every turn. We’re done.” Your boss leans forward, his hands clasped on the desk.

“You’re some of the best agents we have. Leaving now means giving up everything you’ve worked for, everything you’ve fought for.”

“We’re not giving up,” you say, your voice calm but resolute. “We’re choosing to live. To value our lives and each other more than this endless cycle of danger and death.” Natasha squeezes your hand. “We’re out. Effective immediately.” For a moment, silence fills the room. Your boss’s face is a mask of frustration and resignation. Finally, he nods. “Very well. I’ll process your resignations. But know this… you’ll always have a place here, should you choose to return.” Without another word, you and Natasha turn and leave the office, the weight of your decision lifting with every step. As you walk out of the building for the last time, you feel a sense of freedom and resolve. You don’t know what the future holds, but you know one thing for sure you’ll face it together.

Let me know what you think and thanks for reading! I remind you that requests are open so if you want me to write you something.

#mcu #marvel #marvel mcu #fanfic #headcanon #the avengers #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x female #black widow x y/n #black widow x female reader #black widow x you #black widow x reader #black widow #smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut

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luveline · 2 years

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𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

You're not sure you're ready to come back. Hotch has total faith in you. Or, your transition back into the team after your abduction doesn't go as smoothly as you'd hoped.

6k words, fem!reader, bau!reader, some mutual pining, reader is suffering from effects of ptsd, allusions to kidnapping + torture, hurt/comfort, hotch has a soft spot for you (as do most of the team)

༺༻

Reid was abducted, once.

You can remember the anxiety of it like a hand around your throat. It feels cruel to say that his abduction and torture had effected you more than if it had been a stranger, but you meet so many people, so many victims of cruelty, that the fear starts to blunt.

Though it doesn't blur. You find it impossible to forget the people that you've failed, and failing a team mate? That had been excruciating.

Only when you'd been taken yourself had you realised it wasn't a failure at all.

You wish the others would understand that.

"Are you feeling okay?" Prentiss asks as you sit down.

You suppose you had gone down a bit hard. "Mm?" you hum in question, pulling a copy of the initial case file toward you.

"You looked a little wobbly."

"Long night?" Morgan asks.

There's both sympathy and mirth in his voice. If you did have a long night, it wouldn’t be from anything fun. He knows that. Everybody knows that. That's why they're treating you like glass.

"I actually slept really well," you say softly, returning his smile with one that's entirely genuine.

"That's good, considering," he says, bracing his forearm against the conference table.

He's been your number one supporter since you came back. Probably because he feels very guilty about what happened. You'd been paired up at the time.

"Actually, it's common for people who've been abducted to sleep incredibly well for a long period afterward. It's similar to the leisure sickness phenomena- Your body would have been in defence mode, and-"

"Reid," Hotch says firmly, stepping into the room with his usual lowbrow.

"Sorry."

And the spiel begins. JJ lays out the details of the case she's triaged and the team gives their first input. The barest beginnings of a working theory. You try to contribute and find your tongue a leaden weight in your mouth. Ever since you got back, you've been useless.

You can't do your job, but thank god you can sleep at night, right?

You miss the start of his sentence, your focus latching onto Hotch's conclusive, "Wheels up in thirty."

Your team are standing in seconds, trained in the art of quick departures. You used to be good at this part. You're a good agent, even when you're a mediocre profiler.

"L/N?"

You blink. "Mm?" you hum, meeting your unit chief's concerned look with a perfected blasé.

You've come to a stand in front of the table, and everyone else has left. It's you and Hotch alone.

"If you're not ready to go back into the field, that's okay."

If you were Reid, or Prentiss, or especially Morgan, you'd get defensive here, and you would lie well, but you’re a bad liar and Hotch is a great detector for them, so you tell the truth.

"I'm not sure that I'm ready, but I'd like to go. I won't be a burden. I can work effectively."

"I know you won't be a burden."

You tilt your head to one side and feel your hair shift over your thick sweater. You haven't felt like showing much skin, lately. Everybody has noticed, because they notice everything, and nobody has made you feel bad about it. In fact, your fellow agents have made numerous comments about the chilly weather. It's July.

Hotch's eyes fall to your long sleeves for a split-second.

"Do you think he's alive?" you ask.

"Sorry?"

You nod your head toward the board, where the portrait of your kidnapping victim hangs in full colour. "Do you think he's alive?"

"Unless there's evidence that would suggest otherwise, we shouldn't assume. You know that."

"I know that that's the answer you're used to giving."

His voice goes too soft, like he's talking to somebody in grief. "I think he is."

You honestly can't stand it when he talks to you like this. You tilt your head a little further and see him the way he'd been that morning, his tenderness, his fear. He'd opened the door and suddenly you'd known you were safe.

He hasn't looked at you right since he found you.

"I have all my best clothes in my go-bag," you offer.

"Well, go get it. This might be a long one."

—

The jet is a really nice jet.

It's hard not to feel impressed by it. It's a vehicle that can take you from one crime scene to another, and it's a necessary expense, but it feels lavish. The clean smells, the comfort, the kitchenette. It has a full-sized toilet.

"Missed this?" Morgan asks knowingly.

You wheedle your way into one of the four seats surrounding the main table and smile when he drops down next to you. "Missed using you as my personal pillow, maybe," you tease.

"Table hogs," Prentiss complains, sitting on the armrest of the couch in defeat.

You laugh under your breath. Morgan pulls out his laptop and turns the screen so everyone can see Garcia, and as soon as the jet's taken off the second round of speculation begins.

You regret sitting where you had quickly. You can feel Hotch's analysing gaze where he sits opposite. He doesn't believe you're ready to come back.

You lick your lips.

"Why would she cut him open just to kill him straight afterward?" JJ asks. "I mean, if she didn't assault him?"

"It's unlikely that she's a sadist," Reid infers.

"Disembowelment is a pretty painful, horrific way to die. Maybe she realised that and killed him," Morgan suggests.

"Remorse?" you murmur. "Could mean she's… younger. And revenge killers don't always see it through."

"Why take another one if you can't commit to the first?" Prentiss asks.

"Maybe that's why she took him. She wants time to work herself up," you mutter.

You hide your hands under the table. It's hard to ignore the similarities with the current case and the one you're investigating. The unsub who'd taken you had been narcissistic and self-righteous, punishing the BAU for stopping her second murder — you'd predicted her next victim and moved him before she could take him.

So her victimology had changed, and she'd stolen you.

She couldn't commit to her first session of torture: hesitant cuts, loose ligatures. By your turn she'd improved, but her tentative resolve had remained and she'd run after three days. It's the worst thing she could've done, buying herself less than a week on the run and leaving you with no outside communication.

You'd almost died of dehydration.

"She's choosing from a specific group," Reid says. He holds up a photograph of the first victim. He'd been murdered in his bedroom, and the walls are plastered in playboy. Kill all men has been written across his forehead in red lipstick. "Our abductee, he was wearing a t-shirt featuring popular bikini model Miss Olympia. In a state of undress."

“Is that specific?” Prentiss asks wryly.

"She's angry," you say.

Hotch leans forward and clicks Garcia's call button. "Garcia?"

"Sir."

"Are there any prolific feminist groups in the area? Radicals?"

They fall into conversation, a pulling and pushing of information. Something about online forums, flame wars, political arguments.

It's not the strongest theory in the world but they can make it work. You should be making it work with them.

The flight is an early morning longhaul to Idaho and you work the case the entire time you're in the air. There's an abundance of coffee that you reject because you're worried it'll rehash your on-again off-again migraine, and while your teammates are offering theories, intertwining details with bright eyes and bushy tails, you struggle to keep up.

There's a lull before landing where everybody parts ways. JJ moves to sit with Prentiss where they talk in hushed but conspicuous giggles. You hear the words Will and dishes and back rub and decide to stop listening for your own sake.

Morgan laughs, having heard what you just heard and liking it a far deal more, and stands. "Coffee?" he asks as you yawn.

You shake your head sluggishly. "Be quick, we'll be landing soon."

"I know, sweetheart, I heard the same announcement as you." He takes your empty water glass with a supportive squint. "Let me get you another."

"Thanks."

You'd regretted your seat as soon as you'd taken it, the feeling of being boxed in having grown and grown over the course of the journey, and Morgan’s brief departure gives you some much needed space.

You squeeze your hands together until your knuckles ache.

"L/N?"

Hotch is looking at you. You know exactly what he sees. Someone who isn't ready to be back in the field. Someone who isn't being effective, as you'd promised.

"You okay?"

"Just warm,” you lie, pushing your hair away from your neck.

You're a bad liar. He gets up to turn on the air conditioning anyway.

You slouch down in your chair and pretend to nap for the rest of the flight.

—

Crime scenes where people died smell bad. It's a fact. They smell like pee, the sharp stick of ammonia, and the metallic aftertaste of blood. You're trying hard not to fall into your own memories of the two.

You need to move past what happened. The only way you're gonna be able to do that is to re-desensitise yourself, and that includes volunteering for the nasty stuff when Hotch tries to relegate you to questioning witnesses.

"I'm not good at interviews," you'd said plainly.

And he'd taken it for what it was and let you do what you usually do: you look for clues. If anybody could hear you think that you'd be ridiculed, but they can't. You enjoy yourself.

Let's Scooby Doo this bitch.

"Careful," Hotch says, holding a hand near your hip. You'd almost stepped into the largest puddle of blood still wet in the very middle.

Right. He'd let you take the gross job but now you're being babysat.

What did she do in this room? Why did she kill him here but abduct the second man?

"If it weren't for the photos, I'd never link this victimology," you confess.

The photos. The unsub had sent pictures of her abductee with Kill all men written across his forehead. In lipstick.

What changed the MO? Why kill the first at home and steal the second?

The political theory feels more plausible.

"I think you would've." Hotch casts his gaze over the desk. "This is a messy one. Opportunistic but personal. Our unsub, she…" His voice turns to a mutter, as it tends to do when he hits a roadblock. "She wants attention, because the first murder didn't do what she'd hoped."

"What is she hoping for?"

He picks up a piece of coloured paper and holds it up to his chest so you can see it. It's a flyer for speed dating at a Café Martini, every Friday at 6PM.

"Where was Paul last seen?" you ask.

"Good question."

He takes his phone from his pocket to call Garcia.

You listen to their conversation for a while, his serious questions and her flirtatious answers.

You look back to the floor and push the white toe of your tennis shoe into the rug until the rubber's red with blood. It's not good practice. You're now a walking biohazard. Why is the blood still wet? It should've sunk into the carpeting hours ago. How much did he bleed?

When you'd been abducted your unsub hadn't been keen on torture. She'd made small, quick cuts over your upper arms, more to punish you than because she truly enjoyed it, and she'd hit something important by accident.

The blood had pooled in the crook of your elbow. It had stayed wet for a long time. You remember trying to clean yourself up with your t-shirt, too drugged up to move right, and eventually the drugs had worn off and it had really, really hurt.

This boy had been cut from hip to hip.

"Maybe you should go sit in the car," Hotch says.

"Why?"

"I've been talking to you."

"I've been listening."

"Don't lie." Hotch takes a step forward, black shoe close to your white. "Look at me."

You look up, eyebrows raised as you try to blink yourself awake. His eye contact is something you've always struggled to hold, knowing he's learning a lot more from your expression than you are from his. You press the backs of your hands to your cheeks and find them hot with embarrassment.

"I'm really sorry," you apologise, eyes aching. Not burning, just aching. Like a bruise.

Hotch nods, expression impassive. "It's okay. Go sit in the car."

He outranks you as an SSA, he's your boss for every intent and purpose. He's your friend, sometimes, and you've yet to see him make a bad call. You listen and go back out and down to the car. You've already broken your promise not to be a burden.

Best to play along and play well. You don't want a desk job. You don't want to lose the team.

In the car, things feel better. It smells like new and you take some time to breathe it in with slow, deep breaths. The pine tree air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror is still soft and wet to touch. You rub it between two fingers, pensive, until Hotch appears from the house. He looks severe and solemn as usual when he opens the car door and climbs inside.

"Tell me if you can't do this," he says. He never beats around the bush. You wish that he would.

"I don't know."

"I need a yes or no."

You're screaming at yourself to say yes. Hotch stalls with his hand poised at the ignition, waiting for your answer before he turns the key. If you say no, I can't do this, he'll take you back to the room. You know he won't hold it against you because he'd tried to persuade you to take more time off, as much as you needed.

Being alone reminds you too much of your abduction. You hate how you can't stop thinking about it. At work, at home. What if this is it? This is the only thing you're going to think of for the rest of your life.

Unless you can get some new memories.

"I can do this."

"I know that. Do you know that?" he asks firmly.

You lean your head back against the headrest and turn your face to look at him fully. You hadn't been expecting any praise, any softness. You're fucking up on a time-sensitive case — he should be reprimanding you. He should send you packing to Virginia.

"I'm sorry," you say softly.

"For what?" he asks. His eyebrows pinch up at the starts, his lips curve into a frown.

It's startling to see so much emotion on his face on the job; Aaron Hotchner has a switch. He comes to work and he turns off everything that doesn't help the case. Only on rare occasions do you get to see him as a friend — his laughter over group dinner dates, his gentle smiles when he'd kept you company in the hospital.

"For being- For being disorganised," you explain choppily. It is not the right word.

He turns the key and reverses out of the parking space before speaking. "You are an asset to this team. If you can't be an asset right now, that's fine. If you need to go home-"

"I don't need to go home."

He doesn't seem offended at being interrupted. "Your wellbeing is more important than your effectiveness as a profiler. But you can't get in the way."

"I won't."

"I know you won't. Just…" He pulls his phone out of his pocket, dials a number. He's not looking at you when he finishes, "Calm down. Stay present. We need you with us."

You turn your face to the window so he can't see your smile. He hasn't been this nice to you since your birthday.

—

The thirty six hour mark comes to pass quickly and you find yourselves no closer to a positive ID on the unsub or their location. Any leads you follow dry up, witnesses won't cooperate, nobody has slept properly (besides yourself), and the boy's parents are hysterical. Hysterical and an irritant.

You can hear them arguing with Hotch and the police chief in the other room.

"You look amazing," JJ says tiredly. You can't tell if her annoyance is genuine or not.

"Did you sleep?" you ask.

JJ looks amazing herself despite what she might say, all perfect skin and lovely blonde hair like a moving sheet of silver-gold. You revere her pretty thin sweater with poorly hidden envy as she yawns and stretches against her straight-backed chair.

"I slept. Bed was about as comfy as this chair," she says ruefully.

"Ninety percent of all abduction victims are killed within the first thirty-six hours," Hotch says as he enters the room, in what Morgan would call his drill sergeant's drawl. "Every hour past that point, the percentage increases."

Everybody in the room knows that statistic. His passive aggressive reminder serves to electrify a dozing Reid and a slumped Prentiss, both of which sit up in their chairs and pretend to be busier than they are as he makes his way into the room.

"Actually," Reid whispers to you, voice rough with fatigue, "the math isn't that simple."

"Do you want to explain it to me?" you whisper back.

You can't admit to really truly listening to Reid's explanation. You want him to feel heard even when you don't have the capacity for it, so you nod and hum as he explains, heads bent together as the rest of the team trade new theories. He talks surprisingly quickly for all his fatigue, and before you've realised it he's talking about something new.

"Reid," you intrerupt gently, "can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

You look up. Everyone seems too busy to be listening to you. You take what semblance of privacy you can and push your chair an inch closer.

"Do you think I've been an efficient agent these last two days?"

He juts his head forward. "You've been distracted. Tired, unfocused. But your insight on the unsub's age and what you said about her propensity for regret are both incomparable parts of the profile."

"But easily something someone else would've suggested?"

"Not necessarily." He smiles at you, a mirthful quirk. "Psychologically, the effect that working a case so close to your own trauma," — you bite your tongue in surprise — "would render the average person prone with memory. It also gives you a thought pattern that not everybody else would have."

"You have it."

"Let's focus on the behaviour pattern," Hotch says.

You'd agreed to run point today. Or rather, Hotch had said, "L/N, you'll run point," and you hadn't argued. After all, yesterday had been telling on how much you can handle. Crime scenes are a no go.

Not that there's any crime scene left to analyse. Your team have spent hours and hours trying to draw blood from stone. The case hadn't felt so impossible on the jet, and now…

"I'm benched," you murmur.

"You're not benched," Morgan says, which is irksome because you'd been talking to Reid. "If you were benched you'd be back in Virginia typing up my paperwork."

"She doesn't care about the crime scene, she doesn't care about the crime itself. There's nothing in it for her besides making a statement. So why take a hostage with no ransom, no instruction? Why tell us you have a hostage and cut communication?"

You rub your eyes at Reid's questions and find you have no theories to offer. You have nothing.

"Work the problem," you mumble to yourself. "Work the problem. Where would she go?"

She cut that boy from hip to hip. She killed him quickly after rather than leave him in pain, but she disembowelled him for the statement it would make. For the… mess?

You feel off-kilter enough to stand. You weave through people and hesitate in front of Hotch where he's reading over the timeline, waiting for his face to turn before you talk.

"Hotch," you say tentatively, "what if she's like… an arsonist? Disemboweling is messy. The blood was still wet when we got here two days later, and it ruined the floor."

He thinks for a second. "Her escalation from a private mess to a public one would make sense."

"We thought the pathway from murder to taking a hostage was a step backwards, but what if it's not about the murder at all, it's about the blood?"

"It's common for arsonists to suffer paternal violence," Reid chimes in. "Could explain the unsub targeting men with outward misogynistic attitudes."

You turn to find the whole team looking at you, a familiar drive on each of their faces.

They rebuild the profile. Reid fiddles with what you've said, they specify, they redirect.

Your moment of clarity dissolves quickly but you try to help as they move on to possible locations. If the unsub wants to make a scene, light a metaphorical fire, there are plenty of places she can do it this weekend.

Surprise surprise, Garcia confirms a 'men's rights' rally happening in around two hours, and suddenly everybody's in motion. Hotch lists instructions and the team disperses. You've done it all a hundred times before, Hotch quadruple that, Rossi octuple.

"L/N," Hotch says.

You lift your face to his.

He's really quite close.

"Do you want to stay here?"

You take note of his wording. Do you want to stay here?

His phone is already in his hand. You don't wanna waste anymore of his time. You're pretty useless during movements anyways.

"Is that okay?" you ask.

He doesn't say yes or no, his head doesn't give the slightest nod or shake. His eyebrows remain in their usual pushed down position. "Expand the profile. Make sure we haven't missed anything." In case the unsub isn't where you think.

And then he leaves.

You take your seat at a now hastily vacated table and spend an hour on the laptop with Garcia. She's mostly at the beck and call of the rest of the team, but it's nice to listen to her clicking away.

She hangs up when the team are about to storm the rally venue and things get difficult.

You'd passed all your psych evaluations to return. You can be an effective agent. You can work.

You know all of this.

It won't stick.

You don't have a clue how long you spend staring at the table when your phone starts to ring. "Morgan?" you ask, pressing the screen to your cheek.

"Hey, sweetheart, we got her. And Paul, safe and sound. You ready to go home?"

"Uh," you say, trying to understand what he's said. "I'm not sure." Your migraine is coming back.

When a person gets dehydrated your head starts to pound. It's like a heartbeat, a pulsing ache at the base of your skull and your temples.

You know that it's all in your head, but ever since you got back you've been victim to what feels like a hundred headaches.

Your head hurts, and you look at the floor and suddenly the floor isn't the dull blue carpeting of the police station, but the plywood of your unsub's warehouse.

"Are you there?"

"Morgan, I don't feel well," you say. Your mouth is full of cotton.

"What?"

You cast your gaze around the room.

You leave your phone on the table, unsure if you've hung up, and make your way out of the conference room they've delegated to the BAU. You're in two minds. You know where you are, and who you are, but you feel like you're back there. The walls look like the police station walls but the floor looks like the base plywood of the warehouse.

I'm just thirsty, you think. When you'd been kidnapped you'd become dehydrated somewhere between the fourth and fifth day, and that had come with some minor auditory and visual hallucinations. Dark spots in your peripherals shaped mildly like people, murmurings that could've been the cicadas. Right now, there's a low pitched ringing in your ears. I'm dehydrated. I'm fine. I need a drink, and I'll be okay.

You don't have the facilities to smile at the people you pass, easing your way through officers and into an empty break room. There's nobody here.

You round the table in the middle of the room and move to the cabinets and the sink basin. You take a mug into shaking hands and turn the faucet on.

The water is frigid and soon your fingers are like ice. You part them in the stream, watching the water worm down your palms and wet the cuffs of your sleeves.

"Agent L/N, is everything okay?"

You turn with a smile, ready to assuage any fears, but it's her.

It's obviously not her. It's not her, but she looks like her. Same face, same hair. You turn back to sink and fill your mug.

"Agent L/N?"

"Please," you say quietly.

"Agent L/N?"

"Detective, would you excuse us?"

His voice. Your shoulders relax just enough to ease the ache in your neck. You hear the woman depart, but you're disorientated enough to ask, "Is she still here?"

"She's not here."

“She looked-“ like her. You press your wet hands to the bottom of the sink. It's silver and covered in scratches, a thousand scratches that glow white with the fluorescents. "I don't think I should be here," you mumble.

"I think you're overwhelmed."

"I am." You cringe at the numbness spreading up your arms. "I don't know how to make it go away."

Hotch isn't just your boss. He's a father. He was a husband. He knows how to comfort somebody and he's proven that to you already, but you're still surprised when he pulls your hands out of the sink. He holds both in one palm while he turns off the faucet, and then he tears off a wad of paper towels and starts to dry your fingers.

"You're not in any danger here," he says, turning your hands palm up. "There are a wall of people out there who would stand in front of you. Nothing is going to happen to you."

Despite his careful reassurances you're curling in on yourself, trying to hide. You don't want to be here. You're not sure where you want to be. You have the self-awareness to know you're being awful, that this is embarrassing, and you've put Hotch in a position he likely doesn't want to be in, too.

You blink at his chest. "Where's your suit jacket?" you ask. Your voice sounds far away in one ear and too loud in the other.

"I left it in the car," he says lightly. "We just got back from the rally. You were waiting for us here."

"I didn't go."

"No. You haven't been at your best."

"I'm trying."

"I know," he says softly, thumbs rubbing over your warming fingers. "I know you are. You're doing really well. Why don't we sit down?"

You let him lead you backward into a hard-backed chair. He doesn't sit with you, but he doesn't let go of your hands. They're limp in his and smaller, colder.

You think he might be the only thing keeping you here.

"I've never been that scared before. I've had a… gun to my head and… it wasn't even her-" You choke on it. "Her. She hurt me and it wasn't even the worst part."

He frowns down at you. "What was the worst part?"

You let your fingers unfurl across his open palm. He pulls your hands to his chest, sandwiches them between his own hands and his crisp white shirt. His tie feels silky soft.

"I didn't want to be alone. I," — you close your eyes and press your chin to your chest, hiding, always hiding — "knew I wasn't going to last long by myself. I could see that bottle of water on the table and I couldn't reach it and I just kept waiting for somebody to open the door and pass it to me, and I was so scared that nobody was ever going to do that.

"I close my eyes and- and I see it. I see the wood flooring, and I see the table. I can't remember anything that she said to me anymore, but I remember thinking you weren't ever coming to get me."

You can see the way the light from a crack in the corrugated roof had lit the water bottle up like a lamp. You barely have to think about it and the image of it is there. Your mouth had ached.

You can see him if you try a little harder. The door flying open. Hotch in his vest with his hair falling onto his forehead, a gun in one hand and a flashlight held high in the other. His broad, quick sweep, and then the way he'd leapt for you. His voice, shouting, screaming instructions. You can feel his hand behind your head, his fingers pushed roughly into your hair.

"You're okay," he'd said.

You trust him with your life. You've never had cause to doubt him. But you hadn't believed him then, and you're not sure you do now.

His expression changes slowly. He moves both of your hands into one of his own and squeezes them reassuringly as he cups your cheek. It's a quick touch, a half-second of contact.

"You made a mistake, in that case," he says, hand moving from your cheek to the hill of your shoulder.

You tamp down a wince. "Yeah." He's being generous. You'd made hundreds of mistakes. Every opportunity to save yourself wasted.

"Your mistake," he says, holding your eye, his voice gritty with severity, "was thinking I wouldn't find you.”

He turns to a blur the longer you stare at him, panicked tears welling up with nowhere to go. You tip your head forward so he can't see them, and he steps closer in turn, ushering your face into his abdomen.

His hand falls to your trembling back.

"That was your only error. You did everything else right."

Your tears come thick and fast. Hotch doesn't baulk.

—

You agree to take some more time off.

Realistically, you can't be an effective agent or a reliable member of the team whilst smothered in memories as you are. You don't take it personally when Hotch insists, as he takes great care to explain to you what's happening.

This isn't a punishment. You need more time.

You're a safety risk. Not that your consultation isn't valuable, it is, you're still a good profiler — an amazing profiler, if your team are to be believed — but you're in the aftershocks of a traumatic event.

A wound can't heal if it's being picked at.

"He said that?" you ask quietly, bed sheets upto your chin.

Hotch's voice rings scratchy with tiredness down the line, "He said you can have all of the blue ones."

"He's generous. He gets that from his dad."

"He's much kinder than I am." You hear a small voice on the other end, and then a muffled, "Yeah, g-man, I'll tell her. I'll tell her right now. Okay. Y/N?"

"Yeah, still here."

"Jack says," he recounts, parent tone in play that tells you his son is nearby, "that you can have all the blue and all of the green band-aids, if you need them."

You stare up at the white plaster ceiling of your apartment, a tiny smile playing on your lips.

"Tell him I said thank you. I'm sure they'll make me all better in no time."

He tells Jack what you've said. You hear his lovely voice saying something too quiet. "What was that?" Hotch asks him.

"I said," Jack says, voice close to the receiver, "she just needs a kiss because they always make me feel better."

"I've been getting lots of kisses!" you promise him, turning to look at your nightstand.

Propped up proudly is a picture of you and your team in that restaurant in Las Vegas, where Reid hadn't been able to use his chopsticks, and where Hotch had laughed so loudly you'd felt your heart skip twice. It's surrounded by a sea of 'Get Well Soon' cards, and backdropped by a small bouquet of sweetpeas.

Tell me when they wilt, Reid had said. And I'll get you another bunch. It's been proven that flowers have a long term positive effect on moods. People who received flowers regularly reported less agitation, less depression, and an overall sense of satisfaction.

Beside the sweetpeas, in pride of place, is a handmade card from none other than Jack himself, though the message inside was penned by an older hand.

"I'm well looked after," you say, smiling softly.

"You're well loved," Hotch adds.

That, too.

༺༻

again, im not that used to writing hotch so despite my character study he may feel a little ooc that's my bad, hard to show him pining bc he's such a professional at work. thanks so much for reading!! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging i promise it means so much to me ♡

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noveauskull · 4 months

Text

How WUWA Men React To You Being An Alcoholic (SFW)

characters: geshu lin, jiyan, scar, calcharo, mortefi, aalto, yuanwu x reader

warnings: heavy mentions of alcohol addiction, inaccurate ways to getting rid of alcohol addiction or improper help for alcohol addiction is also mentioned

GESHU LIN:

He comes to the conclusion that you're an alcoholic everytime you come home smelling like alcohol

He's not stupid, so he knew for a while, he just wanted to wait and see when you will tell him, though you never did, cause you believed he never knew

He confronts to you about it after growing impatient, and you tried to lie to him because you didn't want him to know that you were an alcoholic, but it's no use, he's determined to find an answer

When you started feeling an immense wave of guilt, you started to cry and bury your face in your hands, confessing that you couldn't get over the addiction and how its affected your other relationships

You weren't surprised when he said that he doesn't care about you being an alcoholic, but you've already heard those words from many of your exes before

But he still insisted on staying by your side

But you remind yourself that Geshu Lin is a strong man. I mean, he's literally a General, he can handle anything

Now if you ever come home drunk he just kisses you and asks you if you could come home sober to get drunk with him instead

He's the type to encourage your bad habits as long as long as he can be with you (green flag but at what cost?)

JIYAN:

You would confess to him about having a drinking problem right off the bat, there's no way you could lie to your beloved boyfriend's face

You knew he'd be understanding, but you were sort of bummed out when he suggested on keeping you away from any alcohol

He'd make sure everytime you came home he couldn't smell a single drop of alcohol, if he did, he would be very disappointed, and only increase the amount of things you need to do to keep yourself from drinking

He may be strict, but he's doing this for your own good, he doesn't want you to face any issues with your body and wants you to remain healthy

Often times when you feel so stressed and hurt, but you can't drink alcohol, he'd let you run to your arms and cry as much as you wanted, whispering sweet and comforting things to make you feel better

Of course, the addiction doesn't go away that easily, so whenever you make it pass the week without drinking alcohol, he lets you get crazy drunk on saturdays so you can rest with him on sundays after being completely wasted and hung over

Slowly but surely, he'll help you overcome it

SCAR:

You never told him you were an alcoholic, but things started to get real obvious as time went on, and he sort of put the conclusion up himself that you were addicted to alcohol

At first, Scar didn't care if you're an alcoholic, matter of fact, he wanted to get drunk with you or at least be present in every moment you get drunk just so he could have some entertainment

But his excitement wears out fast when he realizes that you're drunk almost every time

That's when he starts to worry and he tries to find ways to keep you away from alcohol

Unfortunately that led to a huge fight between you and him, that's cause he found your stash of alcohol in the bedroom closet under your clothes and got rid of them

The argument happening while you were drunk of course, but you immediately feel sorry when you saw how serious he was about this

He'd give you juice boxes to take to work instead of you having to sneak alcohol into your waterbottle

He is very sharp, so don't even bother doing something as dumb as sneaking alcohol in

If you try to come home while you are drunk, chances of you sleeping on the couch/him sleeping on the couch away from you is very likely, so don't make him upset

He's crazy, but he's even crazier for you

CALCHARO:

For a man at his grown age, he had no idea that people can get this addicted to alcohol

He only knew about alcohol addiction when you would come home smelling like every different alcoholic drink in the world

When he asks you about it, you had no choice but to be honest and say you might have a small drinking problem

He didn't think it was a huge issue at first, so he didn't mind you drink alcohol to the point that it's literally part of your scent

But on some days, he would come home to you frantically trying to find something worth drinking, and your behaviors when you're sober too long started to become abnormal

That's when he decided it was enough and grabs you by the arms, making you look at him while he tells you to get a hold of yourself, and that he will do anything to help you

It took you a while, but he managed to help you get through your addiction just by showing you more affection, he himself has no idea what he did either, but just his presence alone makes you feel like alcohol might not be worth it at all

He is literally worth more than any addiction

MORTEFI:

No way, not on his watch.

The moment he smells alcohol, he's alright with it cause it was only one or two times

Anymore than three or four times is a cause for concern, but over five times? Get it together, he is not letting that happen to you

You can try to explain to him that this is all you needed to help you get over a full day of stress but he is not listening to you, instead, he's too busy finding your other stashes of alcohol that he has no idea about

He's a bit upset at you for not telling him about your problem and hiding things from him, but he is understanding and will make sure you never touch a class of alcohol ever again

That means going through heavy lengths to keep you away from any place that sells alcohol, even convenience stores

Yeah, he's a bit crazy, but honestly, his determination to keep you away from alcohol is kinda admirable, and cute

It's even funnier when he starts pulling up random cases of people who have heart problems on his phone, showing you why you shouldn't drink (it won't work but it's cute to see him so desperate to help you change)

He's forceful, but he's doing it for your own good, and he's cute while doing it so it doesn't matter

AALTO:

He thinks it's his fault you became an alcoholic, even though he's not even close to being the reason why you're like this

That's because before you two were official you two would often go and drink together

Anyways, he is making sure you don't drink too much alcohol

Truth being, you drinking alcohol is fine, but if you drink too much it might affect your body, and knowing you're struggling mentally with stress, he doesn't think giving your body struggles is any better

Whenever you feel like crying or getting aggressive, he's taking all the hits for you, anything you are going through with he'll take the damage for you just so you could get a chance to breath and get things out of your system

He tries to find you a new hobby, such as playing video games or gardening, anything to give you some sort of relief

Oh and he loves making jokes with you, anytime you look grumpy or sad, he'll keep throwing in jokes until he sees the corner of your lips move

Eventually you gotta let out a small giggle, cause this guy is way too sweet and goofy for your own good

Although it doesn't help with your drinking problem, it's still nice to know he's willing to go through these lengths for you

YUANWU:

He doesn't expect you to be an alcoholic, but he isn't that serious about it

He is aware that it's an issue that you're so stuck on drinking until your whole immune system fails but he doesn't show you how worried he is

Instead, he makes it subtle to help you change your ways

Such as taking you out on midnight walks

Or even making you drink every flavor of tea he has, so that your mouth and bladder gets tired of all the drinking

He always asks how your day was, but ever since he knew about your drinking problem, he starts making you go into detail without you realizing

Funnily enough, he even recomended you to start boxing, this is just so he could keep an eye on you though

You might think you're slick when you sneak in some alcohol in your bag, but he knows, so he also, secretly takes the alcohol away from your bag without you noticing

That's literally how you knew that he knew about your alcohol addiction

You're very glad he didn't shame you for it, or even bothered talking to you about it, he just immediately went to finding ways to help your issue in anyway he could

Truly a gentleman

-----

A/N: PHEW I FINALLY PUSHED ANOTHER ONE! Next up WUWA Men when you act like a brat! (In a few hours)

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appocalipse · 2 years

Text

tell me again — steve harrington

this is for @sparklingsin 's spookinktober! ♥ my prompt is: "Would you stop stuffing your face with candy for one moment and listen?" and somehow i turned this into angst + friends to lovers hehe ♥

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You're halfway between the door and the counter when you hear your name.

Instinctively, you stop. It's Steve. You peek around the shelves and see that he's talking on the phone, absently leaning over the counter, phone cord wrapped around his index finger.

“What about her?” he is saying. He frowns and breathes out a nervous laugh. You'd really like to know what the person on the other end of the line is saying. Steve shakes his head emphatically, though they obviously can't see it. “Oh no, of course not. She's nothing to me.“

A stake through the heart, it seems. A punch to the gut. You'd come to the conclusion that you and Steve were friends at the very least and two people harboring a mutual interest in trying something else at best, but it seems that in reality, you're worse than a stranger to him— nothing. She's nothing to me.

These words keep ringing in your ears. You'd like nothing more than to turn your heel and leave, but the tape in your hand needs to be returned, so you try the second best thing: finding Robin. However, this too fails. She must be in the storage room in the back…or maybe it’s her day off. You really don’t know.

You are many things. Coward is not one of them. It's especially easy to be brave when you're so angry.

Steve is still in the middle of a conversation — no doubt with one of those gorgeous girls he hangs out with — when you emerge from behind the shelves and slam the tape on the counter.

Shock, absolute shock blooms over his face — and then all the color drains from it, you realize, in a matter of seconds.

“I just came to return this,” you say, chin lifted with a confidence you usually wouldn't be able to show. “Sorry to interrupt your conversation, Steve.”

He's lowering the phone, opening his mouth to say something, but you don't wait to hear. You ignore the guilt and regret on his face — perhaps more for getting caught than for saying those things in the first place, you think bitterly — and turn toward the door without waiting for an answer.

Experiencing something terribly similar to panic, Steve jumps over the counter rather than walking around it. “Y/N, I don't-”

He lands a little awkwardly on the other side but you're fast, faster in your rage, he notices, and the front door slams hard behind you long before he is anywhere near reaching it.

Robin appears from the back. Her face is a mixture of surprise and disapproval.

“Uh,” she mumbles, giving Steve a pointed look, a crooked smile. “That went well.”

🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸

Someone is calling your name.

Someone tall, unfairly handsome, and who has quite possibly the best hair in the world — someone you've been avoiding.

Steve Harrington. You don't have to turn around to know the voice belongs to him.

Ever loyal, Dustin starts to turn around to wait for him, but you turn him back around by the shoulders and keep walking. Steve is closer now.

“Y/N, c'mon,” he calls again, footsteps resounding against the concrete behind you.

You pick up your own pace — damn, you would have happily run down the road if you thought you could get away with it — but it's no use because Dustin suddenly decides to walk at the same speed as his neighbor, Mrs. Jones, does— and she is eighty years old.

Dustin turns his head and you see his face, his expression; it's like staring at a big neon sign that says ‘guilty’.

Understanding downs on you like a bucket of ice water.

“Traitor!” you accuse, and are still staring at Dustin — who has the decency to look slightly regretful — when a warm hand closes around your elbow, making you jump.

“Can we talk? Please?” Steve asks. Begs.

You try to pull your arm back. It's useless. “I can't believe you told him I was here,” you say to Dustin, still refusing to engage in any kind of interaction with Steve.

“Sorry, Y/N,” Dustin smiles the kind of sweet smile he reserves to save himself from trouble and shrugs, looking from you to Steve with barely hidden delight. “I hate it when my babysitters fight.”

You're not really his babysitter anymore, although his mom still calls you to stay with him when she’s out for the night or something. You’re more friends than anything else.

You scoff, anyway. “He's not your babysitter,” you say pointedly, somewhat jealous. It's kind of ridiculous if you stop to think about it — so you don’t.

“And yet I'm the one who's always driving him around.”

On instinct, you turn your head to look at Steve, angling your chin up with fire in your eyes.

“And which one of us gets paid?” you say.

You're too close, too defiant, and Steve feels dizzy, his traitorous eyes falling straight to your pouty lips, momentarily forgetting he's standing in front of a bunch of kids. Well, not exactly kids anymore, but…

“Oh, sweet lord,” Dustin rolls his eyes dramatically. His friends are calling out to him, already several steps ahead, and he makes a gesture with his hand asking them to wait. He then turns to you and says, “We'll wait for you in front of Mrs. Jones' house when we're done, okay? Byeee!”

“What- no! Dustin-”

Running, he looks over his shoulder and chuckles. “You better kiss and make up before we head home!”

He doesn't wait for an answer, knowing what it will be, and rushes down the sidewalk after Will, Lucas, and Mike, all wearing very detailed costumes. You make to follow them, all responsibility and focus, but Steve's hand slides from your elbow to your wrist and he holds on tight for a moment, your arm stretched between you and him.

“I can't let them go alone!” you say, putting some drama into your words to see if he wavers and lets you go.

He doesn’t.

“They do it on their own every year.”

Just because it's the truth doesn't mean you're going to let him think he's right. You haven't forgotten what Steve said before. You absolutely have not.

“You're just trying to avoid me,” he accuses.

“Well, I said I would take them trick or treating this year!” you argue. And it's a pretty weak argument, because they're all teenagers now and nothing violent has happened in Hawkins for a long time.

Steve thinks you're not as invested in Halloween as you'd like him to believe. He's seen you wearing that black dress before (he's not complaining) and these knee-high boots too (definitely not complaining), so probably the only thing you bought specifically for tonight is the pointy hat you’re using. You're a witch, a pretty one at that, but little effort was put into it.

“What do you care?”

Steve doesn't let go of your hand, but he’s not holding it tightly either; your brain doesn't register that your body can run away, though.

Maybe you don't want to.

“I heard you say,” you add, “and I quote, 'she's nothing to me’.”

“I didn't mean it!”

“Then why did you say it?”

“I-” he opens his mouth, closes it, not sure what to say. Your hand slips from his and you turn around to keep walking. Steve holds it again. “Wait! Please, just…don't go. Let me explain?”

You snort. It's a bad idea. A smarter person would take that as the perfect excuse to smother any feelings for this boy blooming in their chest.

You open the candy bar in your hand — your favorite, which Dustin gave you about ten minutes ago, and say, “You have until I finish eating this.”

And starts eating at an impressive speed.

Steve watches for a moment before realizing that his time is very, very short and decreasing by the second.

“Y/N, I- I didn't mean what I said about you. I was just-” half of the candy bar, you’ve already eaten half of the candy bar, he thinks, bewildered. “Just…what can I do to make this right? Please- just tell me. I want to fix this. Just-”

Just, just, just. You’re nearly finished eating and you're barely looking at him, barely interested in listening to whatever he has to say. Steve squeezes your free hand and tries to find your eyes and he's losing his mind and…

He grabs the candy bar and holds it behind him, arms stretched, frustration and desperation clear in his warm brown eyes as they find yours.

“Steve!” you chide.

“Would you stop stuffing your face with candy for one moment and listen?!”

Your body moves before your mind can process. You step forward as Steve steps back, keeping the candy bar safe behind him when you reach for it, at first just on instinct, then with enthusiasm, once, twice. Hopeless attempts, really, but you don't have it in yourself to give up easily.

That is until you, already up on tiptoe and desperately reaching for the candy Steve is deftly holding over his head, feel his breath on your face. A second — you’re unarmed. He senses the closeness before you do, of course, and it doesn't go unnoticed that you are the one who put the two of you in this situation in the first place.

His eyes are already on yours when you finally avert yours from the candy you’re trying to retrieve. His pupils are blown, his lips parted. Close, very close. You swallow hard and neither of you pulls away, although probably — says the voice of reason in your head — you should have.

In the end, the words come out of your mouth almost without permission, almost on their own. “You really didn't mean it?”

You certainly look more vulnerable than you'd like.

“Of course not,” Steve says quickly, and there's the faintest trace of hurt behind his eyes as he does. “Of course I wouldn't- I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well,” you say, smiling the saddest smile he’s ever seen on you, “you did. You really fucking did.”

You don't notice when you lower your arm, giving up on retrieving the candy bar altogether. You don’t think he notices either, even though Steve lowers his own arm. But both of you definitely notice when his hand touches your cheek, gentle, warm. It's more of a reflex; no time for hesitation, for thinking about what he’s doing.

I'm sorry, this touch means.

But you close your eyes tightly, almost as if you're in physical pain, and take a very long step back, shaking your head. For a long moment, Steve hates himself, hates the way he’s making you feel. His hand stays where you left it for a little longer, between you and him, seeming awfully empty, awfully cold.

It surprises both of you when you're the one who speaks again.

“Why did you say that?” you question without looking him in the eyes. The fear of the answer is smaller than the frustration of not knowing.

Steve shifts his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably.

“Because- because Heidi was jealous of you, okay?” he says.

Heidi, the wannabe supermodel he's been seeing lately. You give a particularly bitter laugh and look away for a brief moment. You can't believe it. That’s his excuse?

“What was I supposed to say?”

"The truth!" you're not proud that you raise your voice even though you're not really yelling. There's anger, fear, frustration, things beyond your control burning in your throat. “You could have told her the fucking truth, Steve!”

“Oh, really?” Steve raises both eyebrows, ironic. "I was supposed to tell Heidi that since we met you've been the only damn thing on my mind?" He steps forward and you don't step back, caught into some sort of hypnosis, a connection you can't break even when he gets close enough to be too close. “That she has every right to be jealous of you because every time you walk into the room I don't have eyes for anyone else?"

Your heart is doing all sorts of things inside your chest. “What do you-”

“- that I'm head over heels for you… pathetically so?” he chuckles a bitter sound, though it's entirely true, then gazes at the ground when his ever-reliable self-confidence finally wavers in your silence. “Yeah, well… I thought it'd be better if I lied to her too, so I did.”

Your chest rises and falls like you've run just run a marathon. Thump, thump, thump. And then you look at him. Just…look at him.

“You're an idiot,” you say. But your voice is soft, the way you speak feels more like a hug than an attempt to push him away, an invitation disguised as a tease.

He lifts his eyes to yours, tests the waters.

“I think so,” he whispers after a moment. Because he really is. And this close to you, he feels sillier by the second. He mumbles your name and you lift your chin as if to say 'huh?'

She's going to kill me, he thinks. One of these days. Today.

He can almost feel the intimacy from before that day on Family Video, that comfortable feeling that always existed between you, the warm smiles and the curious looks; everything coming back. But there's also something new now, something he tried to build with all those words he’d confessed moments ago.

Steve tries not to make anything fall apart when he asks, “Do you forgive me?”

“Um…” you pretend to think deeply. “...maybe.”

“Alrigh,” he says, catching the glimpse of a smile on your face. And then… “Alright.”

And there, right in the middle of the street, on Halloween night, Steve gets on his knees. Yes, the street is deserted now — there aren't any kids around at the moment, but people in their houses might see a strange scene if they were to look out the window now; a boy on his knees in front of a witch.

He drops what's left of your candy on the floor and you cover your mouth with your hand, stifling a laugh you can barely hide. “Steve! Stop it! Get up. You’ll get your pants dirty.”

“Who cares?” he says, beaming up at you. “I'm humbly begging for your forgiveness.”

“This is ridiculous.”

He smiles and doesn't say anything, and before you know what you’re doing, your hand rests on his face. But Steve doesn't pull away; he leans into your touch and you hold your breath for a moment.

“You're smiling, though,” he points out.

You can't help it.

“Do you really…” His skin is warm under your fingers and you’re momentarily unsure whether to ask what you want to know, thinking that maybe you're pushing your luck, that you should be glad you've heard him say it once, that he might change his mind. …

Steve turns his face and kisses the palm of your hand. "What?" he asks softly.

“Do you really think of me in that way?” you finally ask, now without looking at him. “Or are you just… trying to make up for what you said that day? Because if you are, you don’t h-”

Instead of answering, he stands up, wipes his knees as best as he can (not very well) and offers his hand, palm up.

“C'mon.”

You take it. His hand in yours feels right, and you let him guide you towards a large tree by the side of the road, big enough to hide you from view.

“Soooo…you’ll kill me now?”

It's a bad excuse of a joke, a terrible attempt at easing the tension. He smiles anyway.

"Actually," Steve brings your clasped hands to his lips and kisses the back of yours tenderly. "I was thinking about kissing you."

You must be a sight — cheeks warm, eyes wide. A mess inside, a mess outside.

"You didn’t answer the question."

“I'm not going to kill you now, Y/N.”

“ No, before that…you didn’t answer."

“I know,” Steve says. "Here’s my answer."

Then he holds your head in both hands and kisses you, and something comes alive in your chest. It's slow at first, slower than you'd imagined a kiss with Steve Harrington would be, and ten times, a hundred times, better, sweeter, kinder. Your pointy hat falls from your head and you couldn't care less.

Steve takes his time. You taste like chocolate, smell like spring and he kisses, kisses, kisses, walking you backwards until you're pressed up against the tree and smiling against his mouth. You giggle when he redirects his kisses to your left cheek and hold back a moan when his mouth finds the soft skin just below your ear, nibbling gently.

"Does this answer your question?" he says against your skin.

“I, uh, don’t know, Steve,” he bites your neck lightly, then presses his lips on the spot. You sigh happily and say, “I think I need you to tell me again.”

He would be happy to tell you a thousand times more.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things drabble #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #strangertober

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velvet-paradox · 3 months

Text

Dream

Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: König x Female reader/Velveteen Summary: 70's porn star! AU <-- that's it… that's the whole thing Length: LONG ( I got carried away & I am NOT sorry) Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY, strong language, explicit content, sex work, a little misogyny, tobacco mentions, alcohol consumption, vaginal fingering, blow job mentions, unprotected p in v, creampies, coworkers to lovers, a little somnophilia, heavily detailed smut. ENJOY!!!

You thought it was a dream, surely it was some made up mirage. There was no one and no way someone was calling you this late into the night. But alas, you blinked your blurry eyes open, one at a time, just to be sure your mind wasn't playing a terrible trick on you.

But it was terribly true.

You fumbled your hand around for the receiver, gripping it as if you were about to bash whoever was on the opposite end right in the nose.

"Hullo?" Your tired voice asked, flinging your other hand over your eyes. There was some shuffling and ruffling sounds, someone was shouting in the background and Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac could be faintly heard through the chaos.

"This better be fucking important."

"Y/N! Oh thank fuck, I need a favor." It was Tammy, your agent sounding frantic as she cursed at someone nearby.

"Now?"

"Yes now! The new girl must've been nervous as shit to film because she showed up fucking trashed, we can't use her." Tammy huffed into the phone. "We're losing time and money!"

"What's that got to do with me, Tam?"

"An I.O.U. I swear I'll make it up to you if you can get your ass up and ready to film. I can get you a car in ten minutes." Tammy was good people, always put you first even if her brash tone and stony glare had others hightailing it out of her office. Sometimes they were crying; men and women.

"Who's shoot is it?" You asked with a huff as you sadly came to the conclusion that you were not going back to bed at 2:45AM. It was a Wednesday night for fucks sake!

"The Colonel." Tammy's voice flinched.

"Seriously?"

"Come on please Y/N, be sweet for me ok? I'll do your laundry for a week… no a month! Dry cleaning too, you name it you got it. Plus," you could hear the click of a lighter followed by a deep inhale, no doubt another cigarette burning between her chapped but painted lips. "I'll even give you a "$300 advance."

"You do know we're not on speaking terms, right?"

Tammy snorted. "What? Since when?"

"Since Going Down in the Valley! He really gave me an earful on how I should've done better and stretched my jaw before coming to set. So I told him in not so many words that I'm not one of his little soldiers that he can boss around. He didn't like that too much."

You said with a sigh, remembering the stern look he gave down his nose, over his entire head covering. His crossed over massive arms and tilted his head with a click of his teeth. He really didn't like it when you mirrored his posture.

"We'll figure it out when you get here, yeah? For me please, Y/N? You know your my best girl and honestly you're really the only one who can thoroughly handle him." Tammy swindled her way into your veins and answer.

It was tempting. A little too tempting as you weighed your options. Rent was due, the fridge was a little lacking, you needed gas…

She practically squealed with delight as you agreed to the offer, hanging up the phone to take a quick shower and grab your to-go bag before the car arrived.

….

Once on the set, or what was today's mansion and master bedroom of choice, Tammy had rushed up to you with a make-up bag and a flash-in-the-pan hug. She thrusted the two page script to your chest. After curling your lashes and sweeping on some gloss, you slipped into the slinky dress as you went over the obscure dialogue. It was something different. Something soft and sweet.

A couples anniversary, some heavy petting on the ride home, taunts of playfulness. Intrigue. Lust.

Not the rough stuff you were used to when it came to shooting with The Colonel.

Your strappy heels clicked along the freshly polished floors, boom mics and camera men moved around you like puffs of smoke, Tammy who was indeed smoking was frustrated with the lighting.

You paused when you saw him.

König was dressed in a nice and well tailored suit, the jacket held his bulky arms tightly, the button down was checkered and stretched to the very last thread. He looked good. Even though you were giving him the silent treatment as of late, you could appreciate fine art when you saw it.

Your body thrummed when König adjusted his signature face covering hood, messing with the hem before he turned around and saw you for the first time.

You opened your mouth to say something when the bigger, much bigger man spoke.

"Oh no. No no. Nein nein nein!" The Colonel threw up his hands and headed for the master bedroom door.

"Colonel, wait." Tammy shouted, tossing her cigarette into the sink with sizzle, chasing after him and touching his forearm.

"I am not doing a scene with her again." He stated and pointed down at the feather haired agent, he did give you another look though before tearing his arm out of her grip. "Not until she apologizes."

"Well nice to see you too, sir." You snorted and leaned against the built in vanity, fluffing your hair a bit more, fixing your necklace.

"Watch it!"

Tammy put her hands up between the pair of you, the frames of her glasses slipping down the slope of her button nose. You looked up at your co-star, with a head tilt of your own.

"Come on you two, what happened to your chemistry? You guys made us all fucking rich when we shot Tits For That! Can't you put whatever the hell you've got goin' on on the back burner to make some dough?" Tammy made the money gesture with her two fingers in your face. "Who doesn't like money? Think of how much fun we had shooting Bunker Bunny 7!"

"I refuse to work with such a petulant little brat like Velveteen." He huffed, the mask billowing slightly. "You're mature enough to get railed on film but not apologize? Make sense, bitte!"

"Oh, here we go." You sighed and rolled your eyes, truly one of the only things König couldn't stomach unless he was fucking the brat or sass out of someone.

"Can't you two please be adults?"

"So I gagged a little too hard, big deal?! You have women choking on that thing twice a week but oh no, I do it once and make it sloppy and suddenly I'm the only one being scolded." You snarked, a few of the crew members made a noise and moved out of view. König scoffed and Tammy put her head in her hands, thumbs going to ease the headache you two were throwing at her.

"I did not scold you. I tried to help you and you then spat on my boots remember? Real mature."

"Too bad."

"Children! Please, we're not getting any younger and we're losing time here. Can you both please just try and get along so we can get this done and go home."

"I was at home." You made a face and then apologized to Tam, it wasn't her fault.

….

Elise, Tammy's older sister with the fresh haircut and extra long shiny nails, who had started her career on the same side as you only a few short years ago, was now the director. You could hear her calling out positions, where was her coffee? And where on Earth did that cat come from?!

You stood on the landing with König , waiting for your turn to enter the scene and get it over with when you felt his hand on your shoulder.

"Yes?"

"You truly are stubborn you know that, ja?"

"Seriously?" You ground your teeth and seethed behind them, even more so when he gave your arm a squeeze and a little drag closer to him.

"Why are you so upset with me when you're the one who put us in this mess in the first place! All I did was mention something to you."

You scoffed and looked up at in his suit, now with the jacket on.

"Seriously? You pretty much told me I don't know what I'm doing and then proceeded to give me a play-by-play of how to suck dick. I know what I'm doing and I've had no complaints. You've seen my work and we've been co-stars more than a few times by now. Plus, you're the one who made the scene out there just now, not me!" You snapped and fixed the strap of your dress in annoyance.

"I was not telling you what to do, my dear. I only gave you but a few pointers."

"Pointers? I think I'm good thanks."

"I know you know what you're doing but--"

"But what, big guy?"

"I was not instructing you on how to suck cock," König shifted and took his hand away, instead he put in his front slack pocket like the other. "You are perfectly capable and quite good at it. I was instructing into you how I'd like you to perform on me. Specifically."

"What?"

"I don't care how those other women suck me off. I don't care for them. I do however care about you and if were not so stubborn you might have noticed that by now, hmm."

Well that was certainly news to you.

"If you weren't scolding me-- wait." Bells and whistles were soon going off in your head, ringing in your ears that he had some sort of affection, attachment to you. Yes you had chemistry, yes you two got along, yes you two… then it it hit like a car crash dummy. "Oh… oh no."

"Oh ja. That's what I've been trying to explain to you, my dear but you are so incredibly particular, you just wanted to be sassy about it. So I let you. Actions have consequences you know?" König's voice held a lilt to it, as if he had the audacity to be smiling under that hood.

"Oh this is embarrassing."

"Not as embarrassing as you still not apologizing."

You shrugged your shoulders, turned and took his hands in yours. "I'm sorry Colonel. I thought you were giving me shit and telling me I couldn't do my job."

You thought back to that mid-afternoon shoot. On your knees, mouthful and panties wet. König had been moving your head around while he fucked your throat, telling you this and that, how to make him feel good. He wanted you to make him feel good.

You felt guilty now. For two weeks of feeling like shit and taking on roles so you wouldn't have to think about fighting with The Colonel and here it was all a misunderstanding. Your fault.

"You are forgiven, my dear." König said with a smile in his voice, squeezing your hands as you could hear Elise call out that they were ready for you.

"Well if that's the case," you squeeze his hand through his pocket. "I better make this worth it."

"You always do." König chuckled.

….

He destroyed you.

It was strange at first, this soft version of König - you didn't know he had it in him.

With his ex-military background (and Lord knows what he's done or seen!) he was a stickler for routine - order. It made things simple. A blowjob or a sloppy handy, sometimes both because The Colonel literally packs a punch. Girth alone made you feel stuffed. It wasn't until he got the pace down, touched the inside of your knee, moved the silk hem of your dress and thrusted into you. All in one go. His thick fingers had prepped you quite nicely, just like usual.

You got a thumbs up from Elise to get louder, greedier - hungrier for the Austrian inside you, which wasn't hard at all if you were being honest and you had promised to make up your communication error worth it.

A shout of his name, scratching your nails down his thick back had him grunting and fucking down into you harder and faster. Little tears and black dots tickled the corners of your eyes.

"You're so fucking deep!" You sobbed into his bicep, taking a chunk of his soft and conditioned muscle into your mouth.

"You like it that way, no? I can always go deeper, my dear. How would you like that, then?"

"Deeper?" You played your roles well, creasing your brow, biting your lip as if you were truly his innocent wife.

Through the hood you could see how blue eyes darken, a smile in his tone. "Deeper."

He pulled himself out of your sex, thick cock coated in your arousal. Just the sight of him, sparse and glistening pubic hair with you, made you bite your lip. He flipped you over, knew the right angle for the camera and gave your ass a hard spank. It echoed through the bedroom. The noise you made sounded painful but in reality, to be under König's hand, his touch, his body, his musk made it feel like a kiss.

"Say you're ready for me, princess. Say your ready for your Colonel to fuck you nice and deep." He cooed and taunted from behind you, hoisting up your lower half, massaging your cheeks, slapping his length against your pussy.

You looked at him over your shoulder, all blissed out eyes and spit slicked lips. "I'm ready for you Colonel."

Good thing he pushed your head down into the fluffy pillows to muffle your shouts of pleasure because in between the cries for him fucking you, the angle of your hips, how deep he was hitting that spot only König could seem to reach… you whined his name.

His real name. ….

It wasn't the first time you'd let König slip from your lips; only difference was you were always alone when you said it. Not in a room full of boom mics and camera men.

After you finished the shoot and pulled on warm terry cloth robe, thanks to Tammy, you made your way into the master bath to clean up. As you lifted your leg and planted your foot on a very ornate and well cared for clawfoot tub, what remained of König's spend dripping out and down your thigh, the door suddenly opened.

"Just a minute God dammit!"

" 's just me," König announced, slipping into the spacious room. Without a care in the world he sauntered past you to take a piss.

"Really?" You guffawed and turned away, grabbing a fresh washcloth from the ring rack, wetting it.

He snorted. "I quite literally just came inside of you, my dear. This is nothing." He finished, flushed and sat down on the toilet, a robe of his own draped over his shoulders.

"Are you planning on watching me clean you out, or what?"

"I thought you were apologizing, princess. Taking up an attitude like this won't do."

You sighed and tossed the cum rag into the hamper. He'd crossed his arms over his chest and for a split second he looked tiny, cute. "How can I make it better?"

"Take me out to dinner."

"What?"

"We both need to eat. Especially after all that."

"König it's like 4 in the morning."

"So what? Take me to breakfast then."

You scoffed but the look in his eyes and body language, the tilt of his head and little tap taps of his feet on the linoleum floor, meant he was quite serious.

As serious as he was about French toast and runny eggs it seemed as well. You'd done a lot of things with the giant sitting across from you at some hole in the wall diner but eating together was not one of them.

….

Roller Sluts 5.

The cover screams, begs, cries for your attention. Not because it's naughty or too risqué to be in the back of a video store in the ADULTS ONLY XXX section and certainly not because it's number five in a roller rink sex fest. Oh no. It's because it's you on the cover.

Tam had set up the photoshoot months ago, helping her go over the negatives in her luxury home in the sprawling green hills. Laying on your stomach, bare feet and legs kicking as you got your pick for your first solo cover. Usually there were other girls with you, a compilation of arms and legs, flirty glances to the camera or to each other.

You smiled as you mentally gave yourself a little gold star for picking the right image of Velveteen.

A deep navy backless halter top, white trimmed short shorts, knee high ribbed socks and glittering roller skates. You looked almost innocent on the cover, looking over your shoulder as you bent over just enough to show a little cheek, a wink on your face and coy smile.

You were the main attraction of the nudie film, saved the best for last to get railed in. A burly and handsome, devil may care Scotsman by the simple name of Soap (you knew him quite well to call him by his birth name) had cored you out in the Arcade area. You were meant to play Space Invaders when Johnny makes his debut, eating you out from behind, fingering your ass a little before destroying you and your score.

Someone clears their throat, bringing back to the store, out of the fun spring shoot.

A young man, no more than 23 with a soul patch came around the corner, nodding towards the VHS in your palm.

"Are you Velveteen? Like the Velveteen?" The kid stuttered, coming closer and cautiously.

"In the flesh." You smirked and put back the tape.

"Holy balls!" He exclaimed and rushed to shake your hand, his bright eyes never leaving your face. "My friends' are never gonna' believe this. I'm a big fan, I've like, like I've seen everything you've done."

Patchy over here damn near shook your hand clean off before wiping his brow and palms on his jeans. "My pop is gonna' be so pissed he didn't wanna' drive me today!"

"Another big fan I take it?"

"He's the one who showed me Carnal Car Trouble!"

Your third film; your first shoot with König.

Fuck you were so nervous. Intimidated wasn't even close, especially when you met him in person after watching and studying his legit, dirty work for a week. He was big all over. His thighs were the size of a solid tree trunk, waist trim with a deep Adonis cut. His hands, in those tactical gloves, fixing your car under the hood before you were to repay him with what you had that wasn't in your wallet.

That first stretch of his cock was immense, even if it was already slick and covered in your spit. You still felt König 36 hours after that, your scalp was on fire and your make-up was completely ruined by the end of the night.

You autographed a copy of Carnal Car Trouble, made out to the kids' father before leaving the backrooms empty handed. Though you did stop at the door, recognizing König, Soap and another beefcake porn star named Ghost on the cover of a magazine. You hadn't worked with him yet but the way Johnny gushed over the guy, you felt like you knew him well.

….

Tammy called a few days later, another shoot, another idea. She even mentioned that Elise wants to do an actual photospread for Playboy! Not the centerfold the girls you worked with and lived with strived for, no, but a shoot for the team would be bring big bucks and more eyes on Velveteen.

With your head in the clouds, excited and nervous to be in an actual magazine a car honked and stopped you from roller skating down the sidewalk. You turned to see a familiar green Jeep.

With a smile and push off from the curb you rolled your way over to the passenger door, watching the glass disappear as König rolled the window down.

You rested your arms on the frame, ducking your head inside just a bit. "Sorry; you can't afford me, old man."

"Ha ha," König rolled his eyes and that's when you noticed his attire. He wore a nice all black suit and jacket, a forest green silk tie somehow fit around his neck. He looked good. He smelled good, too.

"Got a hot date or what?" The fact that he might be made a stone form in your gut.

"Actually I was looking for you." He admitted as your eyebrows rose.

"For moi?"

"Für dich. Tammy wants to see you. ASAP."

"I just talked to her a few days ago."

"Something important came up I guess. Hop in, cutie."

You snorted at his little pet names, used to them and quietly seeking them out, geeking over how they made you feel and climbed in, taking his hand so you wouldn't slip on your skates. He let you mess around with the radio while he drove, a couple of times you'd catch him tapping his fingers against the wheel.

König really big Bowie was a pleasant surprise.

"You did it!" Tam practically screamed, running around her living room, smoke following her as she circled her desk for the third time as you and The Colonel looked at like a chicken with its' head cut off, which is exactly what she looked like.

"We're gonna' be stinkin' rich!" Tam laughed maniacally while you The Colonel exchanged bamboozled looks.

"What's going on?"

"What's going on, she asks! Oh honey bee I got off the phone with the boss, the head honcho downtown and your films are flying off the shelves! Did you really sign a copy for some punk?"

"Oh. Yeah that was weeks ago."

"Which one?" König asked, curiously crossing his arms behind himself. At ease.

"Carnal Car Trouble."

You didn't miss the way his body jerked when you answered.

"Well thank fuck for that because you're all anyone is talking about and the big boss is giving you your first starring role," Tammy held the cigarette between her teeth and snatched a scribbled down note on the back of coffee ring stained napkin.

Velveteen Dream.

"None of that straight to video shit for you hon," Tam proudly looked at you, proud of her number one fuck doll. "You're name will be front and center on the marquee. You're going to be in theaters baby!"

Your name in lights.

"You did it kid," König gave you a side hug, affection outside of work felt strange but good. He was proud of you too.

"Do it with me."

"What?"

"Be my on screen." You looked up at him, hopeful - begging. You trusted him the most, with or without clothes. He looked between Tam, who gave him shrug, without so many words saying he could if he wanted to and then back to you.

"If you say so."

….

The theatre was packed, not an empty seat in the whole place! Chatter and laughter bounced off the emerald embossed walls, some people (other than you, The Colonel, Tam and Elise of course) had dressed up. Some fans had spotted you and König right away, he's hard to miss when he can see over everyone like some sort of surveillance up there.

The shower scene left some of the audience breathless. You could hear it in the room. König gave your knee a squeeze, before he moved it back to his own you stopped him and kept it there. You needed extra grounding, watching yourself for the first time on the big screen.

Everyone can see your pleading face, your desperately wiggling in The Colonel's big strong hands, your fingers flex in his grip. He holds them above your head with one hand, covered in soapy suds and running water while the other is finding that perfect, spongy patch inside your gummy pussy.

"Oh fuck yeah!" Your voice echoes, making you clench around nothing as you remember the exact feeling. "Keep fucking me with your fingers, big guy. I want you to make me cum."

You look a fucking mess as you blush, watching yourself crumble as König turned a bit to show off how hard he was, the curve of his naked ass got a few women to holler at the screen. Everyone laughed. He had lifted your leg then, over his thick forearm to change the angle. The camera getting a full look at your trimmed bush, how fast and how deep The Colonel was finger fucking you to a sobbing climax.

The kitchen scene was loved by all. You didn't think you would get aroused from watching yourself and König, it was a job but… something about seeing it from an outsiders view made it seem more real. You could see how he looked at you, how thoughtful he was in gathering up your hair as you swallowed him down your throat there at the kitchen table. You had remembered to stretch your jaw this time. Spit was everywhere, your eyes looked so pretty all mascara streaked. You dug your nails into his naked thighs, dragging them towards his knees as you took his cock a little further.

"Look at you, my dear, so greedy for cock, ja? You'll take it wherever you can get it, hmmm? I like you like this, pliant and useful just like that body of yours. I am going to ruin you."

And he did.

That kitchen table didn't stand a chance, it shook and creaked, and begged for as much mercy as you did getting fucked on top of it. He's propped your leg up in an L shape on the wood, holding on your hip as he pounded you out. That grip he held on the back of your neck, facing the camera as you whined and grabbed at the tablecloth. He hadn't seen it then in the moment but as you looked at the screen, staring at yourself you licked your lips and smiled at the camera.

König squeezed your leg again when he saw it.

The main event was coming and the tension and squirming in the auditorium was intense, the room was hot and you were fairly certain the couple behind you was doing more than just watching the screen.

The bedroom is dark, just a table lamp is on casting shadows all over the screen and all the viewer can see is König's big, muscular back, a white sheet covering his lower half and his hand is moving back and forth. One might think he was just on display jerking off but it's not until the camera moved to show you there, on your side asleep as he groped over your tits, squeezing them, playing and tugging at your nipples as you slept. The crowd made an audible gasp.

"Just so pretty when you sleep," The Colonel announces, breathless as he moved his hand down your body, taking his time in spreading your legs, showing God and everyone your cunt. "So soft and loose, fuck you're wet even in your sleep, just gonna'--" The noise he made when he easily slid his middle finger inside you. You licked your lips as you watched him finger you, his ring finger joined the party and the thick pad of his thumb pressed down on your clit. You jumped in your "sleep", a few women behind in front of you gasped and turned around to look at you with cheesy grins.

"Takes my fingers so well, gotta' prep this cute little hole for my fat cock, right? Can't core you out without doing some work first." König groaned when he pulled his fingers out, wet and glossy with your juices. You moaned quietly and moved your legs further apart as he started to lift your leg, stopping for a moment as he waited for you to settle back into "sleep".

He kept your leg up, holding it softly, gently rubbing his mask to the back of your head before rocking his leaking cock between your folds, gathering up more and more of your arousal as lube.

"Good girl, stay sleeping… I'm just gonna' ease right into this pussy. My favorite pussy, ja. Nothing like it, fuck." The Colonel admitted on screen as he pushed himself into you.

König fucked you slow and steady, the drag of his cock inside you was full and at times overwhelming but he know how to treat you and your body, you had never gotten off as thoroughly with another co-star or partner than with the big ex-KorTac operator next to you.

He had moved your leg a little higher then, showing the camera how good you could take his size. Watching it disappear inside you, rocking back and forth as his large hand separates your labia, touching what's left of his shaft as he groans in your ear.

Suddenly your eyes blink open and you gasp, looking back at him.

"What… What are you doing?"

"Shhh baby it's okay, go back to sleep okay?" The Colonel grunts and attempted to close your eyes but you're "waking up" now and getting fidgety.

"Do you do this a lot? Do you fuck me in my sleep?"

König paused to look down at you. "Nein. This isn't the first time."

"That's so… that is so fucking hot." You moan and loop your arm around his neck, looking at him drowsily and kissing his mask. "You fucking me while I'm unconscious, using my body. Do I cum?"

The Colonel grabbed you tight, rolling you onto your back, hovering over your naked body. This looks like watching a couple on film versus just two actors but you must be doing something right.

"Oh baby you cum so hard and it feels so good, like your body just knows what to do, milks my cocks dry."

"You cum inside me too?"

"Every time."

"No wonder I'm sticky when I wake up sometimes."

"Can't help it, this pussy was made for me."

It sounded like an admission, like König meant it. It made you feel hot as you continued watching yourself fuck on the screen. It's not until he leans over in his seat do you realize you're holding your breath.

"I didn't lie about that part."

Startled, as if he read your mind you look over at him and when the shot changes to show you now in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, his thick hands under your ass lifting you up and down his cock, moaning loudly and holding his masked face to your chest do you look down and see the bulge in his slacks.

His eyes are locked on yours, your bodies moving on the screen are the last thing you're worried about at the moment. Because you're thinking the exact same thing.

….

"Fuck me you feel so fucking good. How do you feel this good all the time? Fuckin' magical pussy I swear!" König admitted once he was balls deep, taking your hand as you snuck out of the theater and into one of the private bathrooms. You couldn't get your dress hiked up fast enough, your panties to the side, bent over the sink. Getting railed for the first time without a camera present had you both feral.

You barely got to taste his pre-cum before he had lifted his hood for the first time, ever, and kissed you hard and fast on the mouth. You whined and held onto his heavy arms, pulling your body into his. Your breasts pilled out over the silk slip you wore for the evening, looking frantic into the mirror in front of you both.

"You're so fucking thick baby, you fill me up so good."

"Oh ja? You like being a greedy little toy for me don't you? You are so fucking juicy."

You hung your head then, moaning his name and getting dragged back and forth on his cock. This was more sensual of course because you weren't being watched with eager eyes, this was just for you two. König reached between your legs once he kicked them apart a little further and lightly, at first, rubbed your clit in little circles, pressing down on the hood of it, pinching it between two fingers, rolling it until you cried and fucked back on him. It was swollen and sensitive, edged while watching your first major picture was unexpected but this… holy fuck, this was worth it.

Even more so when he grabbed a handful of your hair to make you look at him rail you in the bathroom mirror.

"I want you to cum. I want you to look at me as you do it, I need to know--"

"It's for you, König I swear. Just give it to me a little harder. Just like that!"

He slapped your ass and held onto your hips until you couldn't take it anymore, the build up was too much, the little glances here and there, the lingering touches, the easiness - the trust.

You came suddenly with a shudder, your legs jerking as he was close to follow after you, spilling his cum, rope after rope. Warmth filled your entire body and even though you'd just climaxed with your co-star, your previous work could be heard through the walls.

You both locked eyes and laughed in the mirror.

Tagging: @nexthyperfix @konig-breedme @the-con-she-called-conscience @littlelovebug98 @mafer383 @synnersaint

#könig #könig x reader #konig x you #konig x reader #pornstar!au #konig x female reader #konig imagine #konig fic #konig fanfiction #konig fan fic #cod imagine #cod fic #cod fanfic #it's possible I have a pt. 2 in mind #my works #my work #my fic #my fic writing

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gingerjunhan · 5 months

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dirty little secret (pt.2) - kwak jiseok

☆彡 Part to is now here!! Sorry it took so long- I had to finish a year of college! Haha!

word count: 1,723 | pronouns used: none | genre: slight angst, then suggestive, then fluffy, college!au | cws: toxic relationship kinda, swearing, drinking, drugs (mentioned), make out session, not proofread, lmk if I missed something!!

part one here!!

Since dumping Jiseok, you’ve come to the unfortunate conclusion that you live on a college campus- thus meaning that you see him everywhere. He was in your organic chemistry class, he was on sports teams, and that stupid band he and his buddies made just had to be good. It made you furious- of course he had to be a campus celebrity. Everybody knew him, and of course, they all thought he was the sweetest guy ever. It was infuriating.

“Come on, (Y/N)!” Your friend urged, “You’ve been hung up on this all week!”

“So?” You rolled your eyes, “Am I not allowed to hate the campus golden boy?” You were strewn across your friend's dorm room bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to forget the events of the week.

“You can be mad all you want,” your friend continued, “but you cannot let it ruin our evening.”

You pulled your head up. “What do you mean?”

Your friend looked back at you, giving you a cheeky smile. “I got invited to a party and I was told I could bring a friend if I wanted.”

“No way,” you shake your head, letting it fall back down again. “You know that isn’t my scene.”

“Come on, (Y/N)...” your friend whined. “So a guy was an asshole to you one time? So what!? There will always be more boys, so why don’t we go out tonight and try to find you someone better?”

Despite your reluctance to spend your evening in a room full of drunken strangers, finding a new man to occupy your thoughts for a while didn’t sound like a bad idea.

You let out a groan of compliance, “Fine… I’ll come along.”

Your friend let out a cheer and pulled you up off the mattress, tearing you from your state of sulking. “Come on! Let’s find you an outfit!”

☆

The party was in full swing by the time you had arrived. “Fashionably late,” as your friend said. Once inside, your friend gave you a smile.

“Do you want a drink?” They asked with a giggle.

You gave it some thought. Did you normally drink? No. Has this week been a normal week? Also no. “Sure,” you reply with a small smile. Your friend beams at you, offering up a quick “I’ll be right back!” before disappearing into the crowd.

You weren’t always the most social, and you can count the number of parties you’ve been to on one hand. So now that you were left to your own devices, you did what many would argue you do best: awkwardly wait around and really say much. You kept to yourself, finding an interest in the wood grain of the floor, trying to decide what sort of alcohol had been spilled a few feet away from you based on its color. However, your trance of trying to decipher the alcohol content of the floor was rudely interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Well I never assumed you’d be a partier.”

Fuck. You turned around to see Jiseok behind you with a smug look on his face and a drink in his hand.

“And I thought I’d never have to talk to you again,” you say sarcastically. “Looks like tonight is full of surprises.” You rolled your eyes and turned around, planning on making your way to the kitchen to find your friend.

Once inside the kitchen, your friend thrusts a drink into your hand and looks at you wide eyed. “Were you just talking with Jiseok?”

“Yeah,” you rolled your eyes. “He cracked some stupid joke about me being here.” You took a sip of your drink. It tasted like lemonade.

“Well what did you say?” Your friend asked.

“Something to get him to shut up, hopefully,” a voice chimed in from a few feet away before you could answer. The two of you turned to see Jungsu leaning on a counter in the kitchen, with Gunil sitting on the counter next to him hoarding a bowl of chips from the rest of the party-goers.

“What do you mean?” You asked them.

“He won’t stop talking about you,” Gunil spoke, his mouth full of chips. Jungsu grimaced at his poor manners.

“Ever since you dumped him he’s done nothing but nope around at rehearsals,” Jungsu added.

“You knew we were dating?”

“Yeah,” he continued. “But not until it was too late. He showed up really upset the one day, so when we asked what was wrong he told us the story. We all told him that it was his fault.” Gunil nodded next to him. You had only spoken to Jungsu once- maybe twice- so you were shocked by his honesty.

“Besides,” Gunil chimed in. “You’re pretty hot, so that’s his loss.” Gunil laughed loudly before eating some more chips. Jungsu rolled his eyes.

“You’ll have to excuse him,” he sighed. “I’m his babysitter for the evening and I accidentally let him have one too many.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. Between Gunil’s drunken banter, and knowing that Jiseok also wanted you back, you had to admit that you were starting to feel a little better. “You really blamed him?” You asked.

“Oh yeah,” the two boys said in unison.

“I don’t really know why he thought we would care who he dates. It’s not really our business,” Jungsu said simply. “We shouldn’t determine who he dates.”

“Well Jooyeon didn’t seem too fond of me,” you say as you take another sip of your drink. Jungsu laughed dryly.

“Honestly, Jooyeon is high most of the time. He claims it’s to “mellow him out,” but I think it just makes him more of a bitch,” he snorted. “Whatever he said or did to you wasn’t intentional. Promise.”

You turn to your friend (who you now notice has been eyeing Jungsu up the whole time) and shrug, silently asking what your next move should be.

“Don’t look at me,” they add quickly. “This is all up to you- but definitely give it some thought. Would you really want to date a guy who was too embarrassed to tell people you were together?”

You sigh. While, yes, that is a good point, you really can’t help but feel drawn to Jiseok again. Like a moth to a flame, you felt a little too willing to risk getting burnt again. So, despite your better judgment, you left the kitchen to go find Jiseok again.

When you found him, Jiseok was reffing a game of beer pong. Next to him, was Jooyeon who, low and behold, was high as a kite.

“Jiseok,” you called from the doorway. He instinctively looked in your direction, and you waved him over with a stern look on your face. “We need to talk.” Jooyeon gave him an annoyed look, but after some whispered words between them, Jiseok made his way over to you.

“What’s up?” He asked, voice soft compared to the noise of the room.

“I want an apology,” you stated simply. “A real one.”

He paused, looking in your eyes and clearly trying to collect himself. Maybe you were imagining it, but for a split second he looked genuinely upset. “Can we go somewhere more private?”

You shook your head, “Fine.” Jiseok led you through the house and into a bathroom, closing the door behind you and locking it. He took a deep breath before looking you in the eye again.

“(Y/N),” he began, “Listen… I… I’m so sorry,” he said with a twinge of sadness in his voice. “Really, I am. What I did was wrong and unfair to you. I shouldn’t have made you feel that way.”

“Then why did you do it?” You ask. “Why make me feel bad for being myself?”

Your words seem to strike a chord in him, and he’s at a loss for words for a second. “I… I don’t know,” he admits softly. “I’m sorry.” A sigh escapes his lips after you don’t respond. He looks to the floor. “Can I make it up to you? Please?”

“Make it up to me?” You ask. “How?”

The small twinge of sadness that you saw mere moments ago in Jiseok’s eyes was replaced with something else now. Something darker that you weren’t quite sure you’ve ever seen before. He took a step closer to you, placing a hand on your hip.

“Please,” he mumbled as he leaned closer to you, the scent of alcohol lingering in his breath, “Let me fix this.” Against both of your better judgements, Jiseok’s lips land on yours, with one hot kiss slowly transforming into many. His breath mixed with yours as your lips chased each other’s. The lemonade taste that lingered on your tongue soon mixed with whatever was on his. “I wanna take you out again,” he sighed between kisses. “Wanna let everyone know that you’re mine.”

You sighed into his mouth, now grasping at his shoulders. “You mean it this time?”

He pulls away from your mouth, looking you in the eye. He takes a deep breath before speaking, and you choose to ignore the wandering thought in the back of your head that wants to know if he’s just catching his breath or buying time before he answers. He begins to nod slowly. “Yeah,” he says breathlessly, blinking at you. “I’m serious.”

You smile, about to lean in again when the doorknob to the bathroom jiggles.

“We’re busy!” Jiseok calls, leaning in and capturing your lips again.

“C’mon man! I gotta take a piss!”

Jiseok pulled away for you with a sigh at the sound of Gunil’s drunken voice. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but laugh. Jiseok took his hands off of you, making his way to the door and unlocking it. “Great timing,” he said sarcastically.

“Thanks,” Gunil sneered back. “Now move.” He shoved past him, making his way into the bathroom, which you quickly took as an indication to get out. Once outside, you and Jiseok turned to each other, and laughter bubbles out of your chest once again. Jiseok shook his head, wrapping an arm around your waist and heading back out to the main rooms of the party.

“I’m really surprised you just let me kiss you like that,” Jiseok marveled.

“What did I tell you?” You smiled over at him, “tonight is full of surprises.”

taglist: @mon2sunjinsuver , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , @odesonnets , @weluvjeong , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚

#xdinary heroes x reader #xdinary heroes imagine #xdh x reader #xdh imagines #xdh fluff #xdinary heroes fanfic #gaon x reader #gaon fluff

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multific · 1 year

Text

Small Steps

Vinent de Gramont x Reader

Warnings: Talks about blood and mention of smut at the end

Summary: You and your husband have a conversation about your future.

"I want five." you nearly choked on your food as he said that.

"F-five?!"

"Exactly. Or more." the way he said it with such confidence, made you a little nervous.

"More?! What am I a machine?!" you now regretted bringing up the topic.

"Is five children a lot?" he finally looked up at you, finding your eyes as he looked confused.

"Yes! When you are the one who has to carry them and give birth! Yes, five is a lot."

"I never thought it would be, well, since you brought it up, how many would you want?"

"Two? Maybe three?" you were now nervous to answer him. Sure, you have known him for a long time, married him almost four years ago and you were rather surprised that the topic of children was never truly brought up until today.

"Okay, we could agree on three." he said turning back to his food.

"Okay."

"When?"

"Sorry?"

"When can we start trying? Do you feel ready to be a mom?"

"Oh, I think I am ready. I mean we have been together for almost seven years now, married for four and I didn't even know you wanted children." you looked at him then took a sip from your wine for courage.

"I do want children. I just never wanted to bring up the topic because I didn't want to make you feel like you have to do it for me. With my line of work, you must understand it is difficult but I'm in a much higher position now. I am at a point where I feel like we are ready and no one would hurt you or them. But if you don't feel ready, I understand."

"I will talk with my doctor, stop taking pills and we can go from there. I feel ready to have a baby." you nodded, happy that you two came to a conclusion.

"Small steps, I like that. I will go with you to the doctor."

"I mean I know he reports you every time I'm there, so you would know everything either way." you smiled and he smirked.

"Clever girl."

"I'm also pretty sure the cashier at the convenience store is one of your men."

"Paid him so he would only sell the best stuff for you."

"That explains why he wouldn't sell those bananas for me. He spent five minutes at the back looking for strawberries instead and he made sure they are ripe. It was suspicious."

"You know I just want the best for you."

"I do. And I love you for it." you returned to your pasta as he looked at you still.

"Are we really going to have a baby?" he asked, you sensed in his voice something that he never showed to others, anxiety.

"Yes. We will start trying and see when... it takes." you cringed at your own words but he found it rather amusing, judging by the smile on his face.

"I'll do some research."

"Research?"

"Of course. I never go into something without a plan."

"You don't have to plan for this." you said but you already knew he probably had ten plans ready in his head. Much like when you were engaged. He let you believe that you were the one planning things but he was behind it all from the start.

"But I do, we might need a bigger house and we have to set up their room."

"I'm not even pregnant yet. And I'm on birth control at the moment still! Also bigger house?! We live in a mansion, Vincent. What could be bigger than that?"

"A palace? A castle?" you looked at him, unamused but you could tell he was joking.

"We have twelve bedrooms."

"Then we can have eleven children." he smirked and you wanted to groan but you also found it amusing.

You hoped he was joking, the fire in his eyes did make you take a step back.

"Not my point."

"I was thinking a house which is safer. Not like our current one isn't."

"We have eight houses."

"How many rooms are there? We could fill all with a child."

"Vincent." you giggled but you did mean it as a warning.

"Okay, okay, I was thinking a slightly smaller house. So the baby can be...closer to us."

"Oh, that's sweet. We will look something up, I'm sure we can find a nice safe home."

"How about Versailles?" he suddenly looked at you, pleased with his idea.

"Y-You are NOT buying the Palace of Versailles! Also, it would be so obvious! Everyone knows where it is."

"That's the beauty in it! It's so obvious that it isn't."

"Vincent, please can we just focus on the doctor and my pills first?"

"Small steps." he nodded and soon you were having dessert.

You looked at him as he was eating his cake, he looked so calm and so incredibly handsome.

His eyes caught yours as he noticed you staring. He had a questioning look.

"Maybe... maybe five isn't that many after all. If they all look like you."

"I had the exact same thought. I was watching you at our wedding, dancing with your friends, you looked so stunning. That's when I decided that I would want as many children with you as you would like. Even if you didn't want children, I would have been okay with that." you smiled at his sweet words as his hand reached out and you gave him yours immediately.

"You sound like a love-sick teenager."

"More like a poet, you are my muse."

"Your art is death, Vincent."

"Indeed. And you would look stunning covered in blood." you smirked as you watched his eyes change. His gaze became more predatory, it excited you.

"I think we should go home." he nodded.

Maybe you were supposed to take things slow. Maybe you were supposed to take it step by step.

But as his gaze turned darker by the second all you could think about was him filling you up and whispering the dirtiest things into your ear.

Small steps can wait.

More Vincent

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

Vincent Taglist: @l4venderia

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

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moontyun · 9 days

Text

Pairing: prince!Jungwon x peasant!reader Genre: romance, lost friends, attempted humor, attempted angst?, childhood friends to lovers Synopsis: People out grow each other all of the time. That was the natural process of life, but not for him. Everywhere he turned you were there. You were always someone he could not leave behind again. He'd lost you once, he wasn't going to lose you again. Word count: 1.2K Warning(s): none!

Glorious confusion

The sun was rising, hooves beat into the pavement as the wheels rolled over them with much ease. Rain pitter pattered on the roof of the carriage. It was a serene moment outwardly. Jungwon had done non-stop thinking about the whole situation that happened a few days ago. Over the past few days, internally, he was slowly losing his mind with each second that passed. He wasn’t planning on going but after thinking it over, he thought it best to just see.

The thought that Sunghoon could possibly be in any sort of danger was horrifying to him. He knew his father would not be pleased with him coming to see him just days after discussing the whole thing. He knew what conclusions would be immediately jumped to. Who knew what the punishment would be once his king found out what he’d done? Just a wellness check alone would raise alarm in him.

However, sitting on the other side of the carriage, his friend wasn’t really sure why he was being dragged along nor where they were going. He had long given up on getting any sort of answers from Jungwon. He knew he wasn’t going to get anything from him. It was more effort than it was worth. Now, that didn’t stop him from subtly trying to figure out where they were going. “You could use a vacation. You’ve been pretty stressed out recently.” Jungwon side eyed him. “Well , are you going to tell me where we’re going? Or are you just going to kidnap me? You know, I never pegged you as the kidnapping type. But I guess I w-”

Jungwon slapped his hand over Jake’s mouth “If I was going to kidnap you, I would have done so years ago.” Point taken, “Secondly, I just wanted to visit a friend.” A friend? On the complete opposite side of the country? Jake didn’t know what to say really. He remained silent as he turned his attention back to the window. He wasn’t going to push the subject, he figured Jungwon would tell him when he was ready. Suspicion was clearly written on the older man’s face, “Don’t worry about it, it’s going to be fine.”

The sun was now setting and the rain was starting to roll away as they got closer and closer to the cast. They had arrived a lot sooner than he had thought. Stepping out of the carriage, the two stared at the majesty that was this. Jake had never left his home town before, so seeing some place like this was amazingly beautiful. Jungwon, on the other hand, was remembering all the little adventures they had when they were kids. The weight of his mission was starting to become overwhelming but he knew what he needed to do.

Upon opening the castle doors, four guards swiftly surrounded them. “Well, isn’t this a surprise? Four visitors in one week?” He recognized that voice. Jungwon knew who it was, relief had started to flood his face.

The guards fanned out a little to give the voice a little space to see who it was, “Jungwon?” Sunghoon was clearly shocked. He hadn’t heard from him in years. What business did he have here? What was the intention of this visit? Nonetheless, Sunghoon pushed the guards out of the way, embracing Jungwon in the tightest hug. “Where have you been?”

Jungwon was astounded by the kind of response that he had received from Sunghoon. He was not expecting to be embraced. He wasn’t really sure what he expected but it definitely was not that. “I’m so sorry.” He was sorry for not being there more often. So sorry for not keeping in touch more often. He was sorry for whatever his father was going to do. There were so many emotions flooding him. He was so happy to see his friend again, well and thriving.

Sunghoon pulled back from the hug, tears brimming in his eyes. “For what? Don’t be ridiculous.” Pulling apart, Sunghoon started to look fully at Jungwon. “You’re staying right? You can’t leave me yet.” Jungwon smiled and nodded. Of course he was going to stay for a few days.

Jake was standing there still completely confused as to what was going on. He didn’t know where he was, let alone who this man was. Why had the guys hugged Jungwon, why did Jungwon apologize? What the hell was going on here? He was more overwhelmed than he thought he would be. He wasn’t going to start asking questions, assuming Jungwon or someone would fill him in later on. This whole trip was very confusing to him. At this point, he felt he needed to enjoy the ride.

“Well, we have a full house this week..” Sunghoon started. “Heeseung is back and has brought his friend, who you will meet later tonight at dinner, and now we have you and your… who is he?” He pointed to the blissfully ignorant Jake.

“My friend, Jake. I hope you don’t mind him staying too…”

“Of course not. Welcome to my home, Jake.”

Jake nodded his head, as a form of thanks.Today had been an adventure for Jake and his attitude towards everything was the result of it all. He was extremely exhausted and he wasn’t going to keep up a facade right now. Jungwon cringed a little at the action, but it seemed that Sugnhoon had not minded all that much about it because it was swiftly swept under the rug.

The dining hall was huge, robin’s egg blue covered the walls, white marble floors filled the space. A long brown table was the length of the room itself. You weren’t expecting it to be this beautiful. You knew castles were god-y but you didn’t realize how god-y. Nonetheless, you absolutely loved it. “I can’t wait to see what they make! You think it will taste good or do you think it’ll taste boring?” You asked, turning to Heeseung as the two of you sat down waiting for Sunghoon to join you both.

Heeseung laughed at your question. “I think it’s going to be…rich but good. It usually is.”

You quirked a brow, “Have you eaten this stuff before?” He nodded his head, he really wasn’t sure what you had expected from him. He had worked for Sunghoon for many years. He had, of course, eaten some rich people's food a few times. You scrunched your face, in jest. “I can’t beli-” The doors to the dining room opened, immediately, the two of you jumped to your feet.

Someone had come through the doors who was not Sunghoon. Immediately, you clocked him. He was not from any sort of royalty line. He seemed very similar to you. Who was he? Was he a cook? He smiled at you, waving kindly.You waved back cautiously, not really understanding what was happening. Unfortunately, he was not alone. Following him was another man. A little shorter but still just as cute as the first. To you, he had some form of a royal background. He too, smiled at you both. He stared at you a little longer than you would have liked.

You turned to Heeseung, “Who are these two?”

Heeseung turned to you, “I don’t know who the taller one is but the smaller one is your prince back home. That’s Jungwon.” Your eyes blew wide. Another royal member? Yes, this was only the second person of royalty you met but in the past 24 hours, you’d met more people of royal descent than you thought you ever would.

masterlist! ☆ next! ☆ previous!

Tag list is open, send an ask to be added! : @laylasbunbunny @woniefull

#enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen tarot #enhypen smau #jake sim #yang jungwon #lee heeseung #nishimura riki #kim sunoo #jay park #park jongseong #park sunghoon #enhypen

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olasketches · 24 days

Note

So the fight is really over...my glorious four armed giant spider is gone. Yuji really was foreshadowing about the slime thingy heh. I'm so happy to see the trio back and together again like you tell me this a year ago this is what was going to happen and I'd just give you a maniacal laugh. But I still don't know how to feel about Sukuna's end like we all knew he was going to die and in perspective it does feels satisfying. Sukuna being ripped apart from Megumi and his little convo with Megumi...yeah dude really is walking contradiction. Always saying he's living to die but actually doesn't want to die. Indirectly answering Kashimo's question. But his end just seems...eh? Like at first Kenjaku's end seemed like that to me too but it made sense later on. Kenjaku came in silence and went like that but Sukuna he was never like Kenjaku or Mahito so his ending being parallel to Mahito didn't really sit right with me and i actually wanted him to get anything but a glorious death but this feels...stale somehow? Idk he's still the same untrue to himself. Wish we could get more of his thought process. Or maybe this was it to show Sukuna's denial became his defeat. I just hoped for more emotionally charged defeat of his..but it's GeGe story I'm happy they're telling it like they want to.

Also Uraume and Hakari was funny too they fought all this time bonded, praised and just dipped. Makes me think if they had a binding vow with Sukuna too? Sorry for all the yap and incoherence. I'm just feeling underwhelmed? Overwhelmed? what are your thoughts regarding this chapter and Suku's end?

"my glorious four armed giant spider is gone" took me out sksksksk he's really just a bug when you think about it lol.

anyway thank you for sending me your ask. I really liked reading your thoughts and how you called suku out for being contradictory and a hypocrite till the very end AS YOU SHOULD THANK YOU!! honestly, this fact alone makes the whole chapter all the more special to me but on this in a sec cause I'm guessing the reaction to his demise is quite... well I guess ppl are not really happy with it..??? I mean some of them probably are and by "some" I mean *cough, cough* the haters *cough, cough* but well... I wouldn't know cause ONE I'm actually (and maybe surprisingly) super pleased and satisfied with this chapter and TWO, I didn't go and check others reaction to it lol I'm planning to keep it that way for now. I'm really not a big fan of twt fandoms spaces in fact I can't stand them... too much negativity and toxicity *shudders*.

so my thoughts... to put it simply, I loved it more than loved it actually. and yeah yeah sure he turned into a slimy lil bug which probably put many people off but hey let's not forget sukuna was basically like a parasite possessing megumi's body, so it makes sense that once peeled off only curse-like residues would remain... but I can understand why some stans didn't like that part. I personally found funny but that's just me lol.

and yeah the final seemed quite underwhelming, but I think that's what makes it so good. I didn't want sukuna's death to be the most interesting thing about his character and well it's not. rather than having a big an "after life" moment like jogo, gojo or kashimo, he spent his last moments with the only person who cared about the human sukuna so stubbornly tried to burry inside him.

I actually found his conclusion to be quite beautiful and moving, cause instead of being looked down upon by yuuji as many stans thought would be the case, he was offered something else entirely. something no one ever gave him - kindness and love. yes, I'm using the "L" word here cause in the end that's what it was... yuuji showed sukuna the true value of love. he accepted him and ask him to live with him despite everything sukuna has put him through. despite all the chaos chaos and distraction he caused him, yuuji still accepted him. he not only showed sukuna genuine empathy and compassion but also recognised that sukuna is really... just like him. when yuuji looked into (blop) sukuna's eyes (my beloved) he could only see himself. he realised that under different circumstances, he could've turned out like sukuna if he didn't have his grandpa by his side. he realised that if he could have turned out like sukuna then sukuna could've turned out like him too, that if only sukuna had someone who loved him and guided him and accepted him, he most likely wouldn't have turned into a curse, which is another thing I loved and cry about in this chapter.

sukuna only saw himself as a curse :")). he acknowledged yuuji and finally called him by his full name but in the end he still only think of himself as a "curse" not as human, not even as a god or king of curses but only a curse :")).

the reason why I loved just how "underwhelming" his death felt like is because instead of framing and defining his entire character by his his final moments, gege made the rest of his moments in the manga stand out EVEN MORE. instead of having a moment of reflection and introspection in this chapter as well as in chapter 265 or 266... and oh well entire shinjiku showdown basically, his character started to trip and reveal just how contradictory he is. sukuna claimed he was satisfied with his life and doesn't care about dying, he also claimed he doesn't care about ideals and even despised them, he also claimed he doesn't feel anything and he doesn't need others to satisfy him and then you have all those small moments when you realise "wait, that is not right" and you look back and rethink everything. sukuna does feel and he NEEDS others to satisfy him, cause that's what his entire "philosophy" hinges on.

"Every human has a unique and fleeting taste... which makes devouring them a perfect way to pass time until death"

he DID get excited when maki became the first person to ever give him a role

This is a first. You're the only one who ever forced a role upon me. (while grinning like a maniac)

and then megumi lied his bs out in the open and revealed that sukuna was afraid of death too, despite believing otherwise

Even something like you fears death...

this only goes to show that sukuna convinced himself (and many other readers) that he is not human, that he is above that, that he doesn't care about the things they do... but if even "something like him" feared death, got excited to be given a role, praised and encouraged others for their talents and skills and connected to them in one way another only to "pass time" or knew about flowers and caught a crayfish then that means... he must be human too.

and even if sukuna and the rest of the world couldn't and didn't want to accept that, there was one person who did. someone sukuna hurt the most, someone who saw him at his worst and at his weakest. someone who in the end still decided to show him love, because he belived sukuna is still worthy of love, despite everyone and maybe even sukuna himself, believing that he no longer is worthy of such thing.

"Even if no one else will accept you... I'll live with you" "Itadori Yuuji... don't underestimate me. I'm... a "curse"!

#god what a phenomenal chapter... absolutely loved it #also APOLOGIES FOR LATE REPLY ANON!!!#asks #jjk 268 #ryomen sukuna #itadori yuuji

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himeryu · 2 years

Text

— Love Rivalry: 28. Mistake

kaveh x reader

"An amazing defense as always," your professor compliments you and Alhaitham as he walks towards the stage with a wide grin. You smile at your professor as you mouth a thank you, whereas Alhaitham nods. You glance at your now former partner, trying to read his emotions.

Unreadable and unpredictable, those two words are what Alhaitham is known for. Nonetheless, your time spent with him was no joke; even witnessing the stone-faced Alhaitham slip up years ago. However, it's been two years, and many things have changed, including your relationship with the man. From predicting his every word to not knowing what he would say next, the damage that has been caused would never heal a wounded heart.

"You two truly make an excellent pair," your professor continues.

Your smile immediately falls.

---

"Thank God that is over," you express as you walk out of the building. 2 hours have passed since you and Alhaitham started your defense, and all you wanted to do was to rest. Alhaitham walks beside you at your right, his eyelids half-lidded as he puts on one of his Bluetooth earphones.

"You messed up," Alhaitham exposes as he looks at you with an irritated gaze.

"Excuse me?" You raise your eyebrows as you look at him, confused.

"30 minutes in the defense, you used a trivial source that took up 25 minutes of our time," He remarked, "Because of that, we almost lost focus of our thesis and wasted some time."

"If only you came to me on time, then maybe we wouldn't have to speed up our conclusion," he continues, extremely irritated. His gaze on you is belittling as your heart sinks— standing beside him, astonished.

You can't back down now.

"You said you'd accept my proposal," you refute, bringing out your phone and showing your conversation. However, instead of switching his gaze to your phone, it stays locked onto you. Unwavering and intimidating are two words to describe his look at you. You hold your ground without batting an eye. However, you can't help but feel a pang in your ego.

"If I knew your proposal would nearly give us a demerit, I wouldn't have agreed."

"So you just accepted it without prior checking? since when did you do that?"

"You don't have to know."

"Well, it doesn't matter anyway," You say with your eyes fixed on your phone— you need to text him anyway. "Our partnership ends here. I think it's best if you don't talk to me anymore."

"For my sanity as well," you mumble quietly as you text Kaveh, hoping he doesn't hear it. However, he does.

"Why," he mutters, your breath hitch at his sudden change in tone: it's full of emotions. Slowly, you tilt your head to look at him, eyes wide open at seeing his face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You ask. Alhaitham opens his mouth to answer but immediately shuts it as he looks away from your eyes. You scoff in annoyance at the audacity of this man.

"Why are you suddenly showing me this side of you?" You continue, "after the many times you pushed me away?"

You ask him, who still refuses to look you in the eye. Anger starts to take over your body.

"I'm sorry," he says; your eyes widen in both anger and sadness— the audacity of this man for apologizing.

"Why are you apologizing now? After two years, Alhaitham!" You yell, "why now?"

"I'm–" Alhaitham tries to reach for your wrist to hold you, yet you pull away. Tears threatened to roll down your cheeks, but you refused to cry in front of him. You swallow deeply as you try to keep your emotions from spilling. It's embarrassing, really; Why are you suddenly so emotional? Why does it have to be because of him?

Alhaitham stays quiet; His gaze is soft, yet it holds so much remorse, in contrast to your eyes filled with anger. Slowly, he opens his mouth to speak.

"[Name], I–"

"[Name]!" Kaveh calls out your name and walks toward you with a smile, interrupting Alhaitham. You turn to look at Kaveh with wide eyes; However, Alhaitham's gaze goes back to their usual cold and unreadable.

"You're here already," you mumble as you slowly walk towards him, leaving Alhaitham and meeting Kaveh halfway.

"I'm here to pick you up," Kaveh grins, yet it falls as he looks closer into your eyes. "You..." he mumbles quietly to himself; you tilt your head slightly in confusion.

"Me?"

"Your eyes"

"Ah–" you gasp as you quickly wipe off your tears. "Oh, this is nothing. You don't have to worry," you say.

Kaveh looks at you and then at Alhaitham. His expression immediately falls as he puts two and two together; however, it was left unnoticed by you. Dirty emotions fill his brain as he sees your situation. Your teary eyes and Alhaitham staring at you like a lost puppy trying to gain independence yet still holding attachment fills Kaveh with so much disdain. He wants to test the waters and finally understands the sickening tension between you and his roommate.

So, Kaveh leans into your ear, making you blush, but his gaze not leaving Alhaitham, hoping to see a reaction. Alhaitham glares at Kaveh, who only smiles as he whispers into your ear in a low voice, "Hey [Name]." Goosebumps spread across your body as you feel his breath hitting your ear, turning red.

He gently grabs your wrist, caressing your palm without changing his position. You gasp at the sudden contact, "Kaveh, what are you–"

"Wanna go somewhere?" He whispers, "just the two of us?"

Fuck.

You nod in acceptance, to which Kaveh smiles. You both start walking away with Kaveh's hold onto your wrist, your back facing Alhaitham, whom you left alone. However, a sick twist of fate plays in his hands. Instead of looking forward, you turn your head to glance at the man you left alone– Alhaitham. Kaveh's heart drops.

main m.list | series m.list | previous | next

sorry for the late post i was recovering from a heartbreak so here's some angst!

SYNOPSIS You’ve been rejected by your academic rival, alhaitham, without even confessing or having feelings for him. You decided to go to a party to fix your damaged ego, so why are you suddenly making out with his roommate?

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@dee-zbignuts @lxry-chxn @ducq @nikkicola @artssleepy @arraxthatsonjah @kunihaver @i-x4o @soohasoya @yae-raidenmyloves @aixaingela @09yyeol @nebulaera @bokutetsumu @kairxse @victoria1676 @thenightsflower @ti-lsy @alizaneth @abvolat @carnnieval @ultimate-imagines @ventisoba @skimm0nzz @slvdsjjk @succutie @empathum @saoiirsee @disa-ster @httpmitsuya @kunikuzushiit @semi-orangeapple @goodthingimsam @strawberry1894 @meep13r @leeyanyanyaaan @heart-cream @crueldinasty @justonemoreroz @boordbokee @moraxsimp69 @kkiryu @r4yyyyy @tartagli-yuh @raideneiari @kaekazuha04 @dazaiscum @mayasshitposts @kunikuzi @ruisann (taglist full)

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prolix-yuy · 1 year

Note

HELLO I'm here I've made it, don't mind me running in with my little pocket watch like the White Rabbit. Ahem! For the position, I got missionary with a pillow. For the man, I'd like to request Ezra. And for you, I have many kisses for your cheeks.<3 Ok love you byyeeeeee

Birdieeeee I will accept all of the cheek kisses and oh so many nights with Ezra. I hope it's filthy enough for my favorite Ezra writer.

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader

Position: Missionary with a Pillow

Word Count: 1584 (hELp)

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, unprotected PiV sex (don’t be a fool, wrap your tool), little bit of oral (f receiving), fingering, allusions to sex toy use, mentions of bad past sexual experiences, Ezra's filthy fucking mouth.

Notes: This has gotta be one of my favorite positions and I love it for Ezra because there's a kind of care that comes from this that gets me all swoony.

Ezra’s expression blooms from curiosity to confusion.

“You would like me to…take you to bed?” he asks, bionic and flesh arms folded over his broad chest. The henley he’s wearing stretches over his biceps, tapering to loose work trousers cinched at his waist. His tongue peeks out to wet his lower lip, confusion beginning to morph to contemplation, all while you try not to wring your hands too nervously.

“It’s just…I um,” you try to say, the sudden mortification of how you’ve come to this conclusion weighting your tongue. “I’ve…heard about you. With others. They’re always, uh, very satisfied.” You don’t dare to extrapolate on that, or touch on how his voice carries across the hall and into your small room on the Pug. The few times you ventured to listen at his door, you burned over how expertly he took his partners apart. But beyond all that, you hated to admit why you wanted to ask him.

“And you would like to be satisfied?” Ezra says, just a little smirk at the corner of his mouth as he tilts his head down at you. Face burning, you nod. He uncrosses his arms and braces them on his modest desk, giving you a full view of his muscled body and soft stomach. “And what would you offer me for that gift?”

Your stomach drops, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep tears from coming to the surface. Bad enough that you had to humble yourself for this request, but to be so bluntly asked what he’d get out of it only amplifies your anxieties.

“I, ah…I can…I could…shit, I’m…I think I’ve been stupid about this, I’m sorry, I’ll…” you stammer, backing towards the door. Quick as electricity Ezra pushes off and closes the gap between you, hand coming up to cup your chin. You still as he studies your face, deep lines etched between his brows and under his dark eyes.

“Have you never laid with another before?” he asks in a soft voice he only reserves for speaking to his ward. It makes your throat clench.

“I have, but it’s never been…good.” You hold his gaze, willing your boldness to return. “And it sounds like it’s always….good…with you.” Ezra’s eyes dance over your face, thumb stroking along your cheek. “I’d like to see what it’s like when it’s good, if you’ll have me.”

Ezra purrs darkly, the cool plastic of his prosthetic hand drifting to your hip.

“That is quite a gift you’re offering me. Are you sure there’s no other who would want to share in your first taste of ecstasy?” Before you answer he tugs at your waist and you follow his lead, swaying steps leading you to his bed.

“I’d like a sure thing,” you reply, giving him a smirk of your own that he greedily enjoys. His thumb swipes over your lips before pushing inside, scraping the pad over your teeth to press your tongue. Saliva floods your mouth.

“Take off your clothes,” he says firmly, stepping back to pull his henley over his head. The lines and planes of his chest are littered with scars and faded pink burns, noticeable redness where his prosthetic attaches. You rid yourself of your tunic and slide your pants to the floor, shedding your underwear in one fell swoop. This pleases Ezra, who groans and palms his crotch at your nude form.

“Lie down, I’m going to stretch you out on my fingers first,” he husks, stalking towards you as you sit on the edge of the bed.

“You don’t…have to, I made sure I was ready before I came,” you said quickly, making Ezra’s head cock and eyebrows pull together.

“You…prepared yourself? Without me?” he says slowly, sinking to a crouch and parting your knees with broad, hot palms. Your core is puffy from the toy you worked yourself up with, shiny with the lube you generously used in case Ezra was larger than you were used to. His eyes flick up to your face, now anxious.

“You did not need to do this. I take great pleasure in making you cum on my fingers and in my mouth before finding myself in your tight heat.” You try to shut your knees, embarrassed that your forethought seems to be in bad taste, but he slots his hips between yours and pushes you back on the bed. The sudden intimacy of his body so close makes your heart flutter. “Did you even make yourself cum?”

You shake your head, which he follows with one of his own. “Next time you’ll let me take my time with you, pull two screaming peaks from this sweet pussy before I bed you.” The promise of next time rushes blood to your head so quickly you fear you’ll faint, but Ezra’s thick fingers sliding through your folds to press inside makes you snap into sharp focus. As he coats his fingers, pressing a spongy spot that zings pleasure down your spine, he deftly unbuttons and shucks his pants to join you nude and scorching hot.

“Since you wish to get to the main event so efficiently, I’ll do my best to make it worth your while,” he says, and one hand urges your hips to lift as he tucks a pillow under your bottom. The height tilts your hips, your cunt suddenly empty as he pulls his fingers out to wrap around his cock. “I find if the act is not as pleasurable for you, this position helps.”

“Thank you,” you blurt out, his motions stilling as he looks down at your pliant body. There’s a flicker of something hungry on his face, the harsh squeeze he gives his cock echoing your observation.

“You may thank me when you’re cumming on my cock,” he plays it off, circling the tip of his cock at your entrance. A deep breath, then he presses in inch by sumptuous inch. Throwing your head back, you clutch at his biceps as he leans over you, harsh little pants blowing out of his nose. He stops in his journey to shallowly fuck, tiny movements that pinch your brow and drop your mouth open. Finally, after what feels like whole minutes, he’s seated deep and full inside.

“Oh, wow, Ezra, that feels…” you pant, opening your eyes to find him inches from your face. He’s draped down over your body, elbows planted on either side of your head, watching you so closely it makes you want to close your eyes again. The veins in his neck bulge, lips parted with his teeth clenched behind them.

“How many men have had you and not satisfied you?” he asks, strain in his voice as he drags back out.

“All of them. Never…fuck, never knew how to tell them,” you gasp, fisting Ezra’s close-cropped hair. It’s softer than you expect, sweat curling the strands at the base of his neck.

“Tell me everything,” he rasps out, then snaps back into your cunt.

Ezra’s pace and power curls your toes and rolls your hips against the mounting pressure. The angle is perfect, cock pressing into a place that makes stars explode on the edges of your vision. He watches your face for pain, revels in your pleasure, and when he begins cursing colorfully he drops his forehead to your shoulder. The rough pants and drag of his lips and teeth drive you to wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him flush with you.

“Is it good? Is it what you needed?” he asks, arching over you and shifting his weight to find your clit between your sweaty bodies. Fanning his fingers over your abdomen, he strums his thumb over it. Your cunt clenches, legs trembling as the telltale signs of your orgasm rumble into your body.

“Yes, Ezra, thank Kevva it’s so good, please…” you beg, clamping your body around him as he speeds up, humid mouth finding your ear.

“I would fuck you like this and any other way you desired. Every night. Would have done it every night before this, since you told me your name. To think you’ve been suffering so long and I could end your torture. Cum for me, and you’ll never want again.”

You let go with a ragged shout, the profound ecstasy of cumming full of Ezra and surrounded by him thrashing you through the best orgasm you’ve had of late. He pins you down with his hips and hands, arms above your head as he mouths at your jaw and throat. Finally your body relaxes, sticky sweet with endorphins and dumb with pleasure. When you can peel your eyes open enough to watch him, the smugness you expected is well tamped by an affection that catches in your lungs.

“Can you move?” he asks, your agreement preceding his gentle movements to roll you on your stomach. Pillowing your hands under your head, you sigh and prepare to thank him even more properly. You’re beaten by his large hands tilting your hips, and his hot tongue sliding into your pussy from behind. The gasps you choke out elicits a chuckle from Ezra’s throat.

“I’m going to take my reward now,” he teases, kneading his fingers into your generous ass.

“What’s that?” you manage to get out before he slaps one cheek enough to spike arousal back in your cunt.

“Every orgasm I can pull from your body before the sunrise.”

Night cycles on the Pug last 16 hours, and Ezra uses every minute.

END

LJ’s Bangathon 2023

#ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect fic #ezra prospect x you #prospect fanfiction #prospect fanfic

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aribluart · 5 months

Text

Obito and Kakashi, and the "topos" of journey- part 2: Kakashi - conclusion

Now, about Kakashi... Oh, dear. Kakashi it's the character that I find the most difficult to analyze, since I understands his actions and thoughts. Maybe, Kakashi is the character who, more than anyone in the manga, had to shape himself pressed by the events happening around him.

While Obito kept his "self" unhidden, simply showing the "dark side of the moon" (I'm sorry for the "pun"), Kakashi had to necessarily repress his "self" from a very young age with all the, unfortunately, consequences. We could say that the "core" of Kakashi it have always been the need and wish to help and protect his friends and comrades, even before he started attending the academy. But he had to face, when he was much, much younger than Obito, too many traumas. And his answer to all the events that have shaped him, is the opposite of Obito's: inertia.

Here I would like to make a distinction that, most likely, it's true only for me. I think that there is a profound difference between apathy, nihilism and inertia. Apathy it's the total indifference towards who and what is around us; nihilism is, in short, thinking that everything is meaningless (and maybe, one could say that Obito is nihilistic, though his "the world is fake" is a facade). Inertia is immobility (read as, resistance). Sincerely I don't know if is the same in other languages, but in Italy we usually use apathy and inertia as synonyms; an idiom says "muoversi per inerzia (acting/moving/doing things with inertia), meaning that we do things only because we are used to, because it's a force of habit. And I feel this is what Kakashi do. Doing things with inertia means be at the mercy of the events around us but not being indifferent towards them. We do certain things just because we have to. It's seeing the world around you move like always, and you want to be part of it but you feel like you're tied, you feel a weight on your shoulders that stops you from being a part of it. Kakashi, since he was a little kid, lives driven by inertia, he lives and do things because he have to. Kakashi is, in no way, aloof; he may seems he is, but that is far from the truth. And I think his "moving with inertia" is a coping mechanism. Like that, he don't have to worry, don't have to think about his past, his guilt, his mistakes like he do in front of the Memorial Stone. When he is an adult and a sensei, his "self" peeps out from its hiding. But when he was a kid, he kept his "self" locked away, under all that obsession with rules and loyalty and now, wasn't that a "moving with inertia"? But then, Obito literally smacked him with his own(Kakashi's) self-harming (sort-of) hypocrisy and kid!Kakashi "self" started to break its binding (or, began to awake). Then Kannabi Bridge happened. Obito's words are the start of Kakashi's journey. And those words, have become not only a map to follow, but also the "something" his journey should led him to: that future that Obito told Kakashi he wanted to see through him, led him to the understanding that Kakashi have to give/show part of himself to his loved ones so that he can be part of reality. I don't remember if, in the manga, Kakashi's dreams have ever been talked about, but I think they're implied: the only thing that Kakashi wants, is to help and protect. But he himself is not included in this dream. I think that, even as an adult, he keeps seeing himself as a tool. And I think this self-destructive view he has of himself its a mirror of his dream. He see Obito as a hero, his personal hero, and doing so he still put himself into the "second place": Kakashi follows Obito's words like they are lifeblood, and his "self" it's the same of his youth with the wish to help and protect others, but he does that putting himself in the role of The tool. Kakashi's journey it's rocky from the start, and at the end of the journey his "self" awakened from its forceful sleep, but Kakashi still binds himself as the tool that others can use to achieve their dreams. And, maybe, he thinks he is not included in those dreams. Kakashi's journey is neither negative nor positive, is a balance of the two; but, being a balance, it's not complete. And he is trying.

Maybe this is one of the reasons why Obito enjoys provoking and mocking Kakashi and he is steps ahead of him, and for this reason Obito is extremely furious with Kakashi.

In literature journeys are research for something, and in the case of Obito and Kakashi their are journeys of the "self". But the two have their stories intertwined and so to fulfill their journeys they need each other.

#naruto #obito uchiha #kakashi hatake #obikaka #obkk #aribluart's meta #kakaobi #kkob

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poetryandfluffycats · 5 months

Note

i love the keito x delinquent reader!! keito loved his gf, he truly does!! but he also couldn't ditch his VP tasks (both are important to him TT)

if you wouldn't mind, i really want to see what happens after that 🥺

A/N: this took longer than I expected! wasn't originally going to make this as suggestive as it is but it is what it is I guess. part 2 to Dearer than I?

Pairing: Keito Hasumi x fem!reader

Content: Is your boyfriend just too busy for you now? That's the conclusion you nearly come to before your phone rings, revealing Keitos name...

Warnings: VERY suggestive, angst(?) at the start, phone sex, princess used as pet name, very brief mentions of cheating(?)

Words: 964

Oneshot under cut!

Guilty as Sin?

You tossed your bag to the floor, kicking your shoes off and collapsing onto your bed. A dramatic sigh left your lips as you pulled your pillow up to your chest, squeezing it tightly in attempt to get rid of that horrible, empty feeling in your stomach. It didn't work, nothing would work. Only Keitos kisses, his touch, his sweet nothings whispered into your ear could ease your pain.

But he was just... too busy for you.

It was childish, you knew that. To be upset over a man not giving you enough attention, like a needy baby who didn't know how to share. But you were in love, goddammit! It was only natural to want to spend time with the person you loved the most in this whole world, even if Keito didn't seem to think so. Just how busy could one person be, anyway? He didn't have to do all of that work alone, couldn't the other council members help him out? Couldn't you help him out?

Maybe what you said had been right. What if he simply didn't love you anymore? What if he had found someone new, someone just as prim and proper as him. Someone prettier, someone who didn't bother him, someone-

Buzz

The sound of your phone going off took you out of your saddened state, turning over to grab the device vibrating on your desk. The screen lit up, revealing a series of texts from none other than your green-haired lover. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

Keito<3: I'm sorry, princess

Keito<3: Can I call you?

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, reading the messages over and over like a lovesick schoolgirl and wasting no time typing out a response. His petname for you always made you blush, no matter how many times you heard it.

(name): i was just thinking of u ;)

(name): call meeeeee

Within a mere second of sending the text, the phone began to buzz once more, with Keitos picture and contact name lighting up the screen. You didn't hesitate to answer, holding the phone up to your ear and swallowing hard to try and contain your excitement, and to block out the nerves still running wild in the back of your mind.

"Hey, you~" You greeted, putting on the most seductive tone you could muster. It was a cheap shot, but a shot nonetheless. Hey, maybe if you could get him so drunk on your voice, he'd drop the whole "having fun is above me" thing and come ravage you!

Delusion, that's what you had.

"Princess" He sighed. Relief was evident in his tone, although that hint of disappointment still remained. "I'm sorry"

You hummed, flipping over onto your stomach and twirling a strand of hair in between your fingers. "You already said that, silly. But... apology accepted~"

"Mhm, so you're feeling better?"

"Your voice always cheers me up" You giggled, kicking your legs back and forth like a love struck schoolgirl. God, you were down bad for this man. "Can I see you tonight?"

The voice you put on left no room for speculation, a very blatant invite for him to come fuck you dumb. Maybe it could be a punishment for your disruptive behaviour, a reminder of who was in charge? The idea all but caused a heat to rise in your lower belly, and suddenly the room was a lot hotter than before.

Keito sighed on the other line, and you could almost see him pushing up his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose in disapproval. "I wish I could, princess, I really wish I could. But-"

"Please! I'll be good for you, just a quickie?" You whined, dropping the prostitute act for a split second and reverting back to the needy and desperate girlfriend. "I need you! Just a taste, please!?"

There was silence for a few seconds, going on long enough that you thought the line had gone dead. But then, just as you were about to speak up, Keito interrupted, a low growl erupting from his throat.

"Listen to me, (name)" He began, the sudden harshness in his tone making you freeze. It reminded you of when he snapped at you before, expect this time there was something less laced in there. Something... lustful? "Because of your little stunt earlier, I haven't been able to finish any of my work"

Oh shit.

"I suppose you can't help it, can you? You don't understand half of what I'm responsible for, do you? Of course not, all you can think about is getting dick"

Fuck, was this really turning you on?

"I'm going to need you to get yourself ready for me, alright? If you can be good and touch yourself for me, I'll give you a nice reward, okay?"

"A-and if I don't?" You breathed, already turning over and pulling open your top draw.

Inside, a bright pink bullet vibrator, a full bottle of lube, and a pack of condoms sat. You'd brought them awhile ago under the impression Keito would be fucking you 24/7, but alas, they'd never been touched.

Until now.

Keito clicked his tongue, a laugh leaving his lips. "Then I guess you'll just have to suffer, just like I do every time you come in here to seduce me. Do you know how hard it is to focus when a thing like you is in front of me begging for it?"

"Its hard for me too, you big bully!" You whined, already shimmying out of your skirt and panties and tossing the fabric to the floor, revealing the glistening state of your thighs and folds. Had you gotten this wet just from his voice?

Pathetic.

This was going to be a long night.

#ensemble stars #ensemble stars x reader #enstars #enstars x reader #oneshot #ensemble stars oneshot #ensemble stars smut #enstars smut #keito hasumi enstars #keito hasumi #keito hasumi x reader #keito x reader #keito hasumi smut #writers #akatsuki

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fanficfanattic · 1 year

Text

I was supposed to be finishing Boots & Bottles. But instead, a vision came to me.

Season 1 Jamie, at a bar with the team, trying to figure out why Colin, Isaac, Declan, and Roy were hiding behind a wall and spying on someone in the dining room bar.

If that doesn’t make sense, ignore it. It’s all a thin plot to get to Jamie offering to seduce the guy. He’s Declan’s sister’s boyfriend, she’s out of town, he’s at a bar, they think he’s trying to cheat on her.

This isn’t a fic. It’s barely a story. Mostly just sentences strung along with a few descriptions to give an idea lmao.

“No one’s ever accused me of being subtle afore.”

-•-

“What are you lot doing hiding behind a wall?”

“Shh, Jamie. We’re watching someone.”

“Watchin em do what?”

“Can it Tartt.”

“Roy? Isn’t it past your bedtime??”

“Shut it, your loud grating voice is gonna make him look over and then Cockburn won’t be able to find out if his sister’s boyfriend is cheating on her.”

He finally quiets and asks Declan if he means his sister Angelica. At his nod, Jamie looks incredulous.

“No way, she’s mad fit man. Why would he step out on her?”

Roy acidly asks why Jamie would step out on Keeley. He didn’t deign to answer to such slander.

“Why d’ya think he’s cheating?” He asked Declan instead.

“Well he’s at this bar while Angie’s out of town. We think he’s trying to pull.”

“Well then why haven’t one of you gone over then?”

“Cause none of us could pass for a woman, Jamie,” Colin snarked.

“Sure but he’s bi so that don’t matter none do it?”

“What?!”

“Shh, Colin. We’re supposed to be being quiet.”

“Jesus, Tartt. You’re the loud one! Also I wanna know how you came to that conclusion?”

“Uh, Roy, his shoes? Duh.”

“Oh, his shoes do look pretty posh.” And Jamie nodded at Colin finally seeing sense.

“And I’ve seen him around Gay.”

“Gay?” Isaac said it, but all four of the players at the table looked confused.

“You know, the bar. G-A-Y?”

“You don’t say the word. The name is G, and A, and Y. You cannot possibly be that dumb, Tartt. You’re just being a prick.”

“Ohh, no. No I thought people were being, like, circumference?”

“What?”

“Saying it but not saying it?”

“Did you mean circumspect?”

“Nah, circumference? Where you say it in a round about way?”

“Roy!” Colin managed to grit out through his teeth. He sounded pained by not being aloud to yell about their rapid fire back and forth. “Not the important part of what he said!”

“Why were you at a gay bar, bruv?” Isaac asked before Roy could take over the whole interrogation.

“You just said you weren’t supposed to say the word!”

“Tartt!”

“Jesus. Sorry. It’s where Keeley likes to go to pull women. She’s bi too.”

“He could be going there without being gay?” Colin asked. Declan was suspiciously quiet on these questions.

“Sure, that’s why I said he’s bi.”

“I meant-”

“Look,” Jamie said, finally showing his impatience. “if none of you wanna do it, I’ll go seduce him.”

“You?”

“Roy, have you seen me hipbones? No one even passably interested in men can resist them.”

“You are such a vain mo-“

“Colin, give us your phone,” Jamie cut Roy off again.

“Why?”

“So you can listen in to get your proof.”

Jamie calls himself, answers before it can ring, and puts Colin’s back in his hand. Then he stands there motionless.

“Well, aren’t you-“

“Waiting for the right time.” And before Roy could yell at him some more, he’s off.

-•-

Walks right beside the man at the bar, puts his hands on the polished wood, and leans up on his tiptoes. It puts his ass right in the man’s sightline and when Jamie turns a bit the man can see Jamie’s ass flex.

“Just me luck. Get here and the barman’s run off.”

“Oh, well, he’s been pretty efficient. Will probably be back soon.”

“Cheers. Mind if I sit?”

“Not at all. Hey. Listen. You look familiar?”

“Oh? You might have seen me on the telly. You a football fan?”

“Not much but I bet that’s it. What team are you on?”

“Man City? The accent didn’t give me away?”

“Dunno. But your accent is beautiful.”

“Oh well, now I know you’re chatting me up. Not many can hear the beauty in a Manc accent.”

“Then a lot of people are fools. You know, I didn’t really think footballers were so…”

“So what? Charming?”

“That too. But I was going to say obvious.”

Jamie’s giggle came clearly through Colin’s speaker. Roy thought Jamie was apparently going for even more air-headed than normal.

“No one’s ever accused me of being subtle afore. I know what I like when I see it so I say it.”

With that, he finally caught the barman’s eye to ask about drinks.

“How comfortable are you with exotic shots, mate? I wanna give me friend here a blowjob.”

Said man spluttered while Colin tried to swallow down a shriek. Roy watched in horror as Jamie leaned closer and whispered to the man.

“You like amaretto? And Irish cream? Those are the secret ingredients. One of my favs. Love blowjobs, I do.”

Jamie hands over one of the two shots and then says “Now we can each have a blow job!” Clinks his shot glass against the other’s, downs it, and then whispers to him again. “Excuse me, do you know where the toilets are? I’ve never been here. Want to show me?”

-•-

As they walked past, Jamie called attention to the other players, though luckily by that point they had rushed to seem like they were just normally sat at a table.

“Hey lads, think I’ll be headed home soon. Oh, and I made a new friend!”

Declan looked up to lock eyes with the man. Who recognized Declan and then slowly realized exactly what that sounded like.

“Hey, Declan, my man! Just showing this guy to the gents. Then heading home. Your sister gets back from her trip tomorrow. Gotta be up early to pick her up!”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Was just having an after work drink when your friend here asked for directions.”

“Right. After work. At 9pm. And you needed to walk him over rather than just point at the neon sign over the door?”

“Yup!”

“I gave him a blowjob earlier!”

“He! That is. A shot!”

“Yeah, I’m giving you a shot. To get with me! You’re lucky, you know. I only hook up with cute boys, don’t I?” Only Colin played along, nodding in answer.

“What. No. This is a misunderstanding. I’m not gay, man.”

“Sure, sure, neither am I. Right boys?” And he wiggled his eyebrows at Roy, Declan, Colin, and Isaac. Slowly turning to each one to make it as painful to watch as possible. Jamie liked Angelica, she was fit like he said but more than that she was really nice. Making her smarmy ex squirm was a treat.

The man fled, missing the smirk that spread across Jamie’s face before he leaned up against the player’s table. Flaunting his ass again just like before.

“If your sister thinks he’s actually just confused, you should tell her that he was showing me the way with his hand on me ass.” He then pulled a condom from his back pocket, and held it out to him. “And see if she recognizes the brand. He slipped it into the back pocket real smooth like.”

Declan snorted, then elbowed his ribs. “Apparently he’s more subtle than you, eh?”

“Bout as subtle as a brick to the face. Thought he was gonna cum in his pants when I said I wanted to give him a blowjob.”

“How did you think of that shot?”

“Told you I’ve been to G-A-Y with Keeley. It’s how the men there check to see if I’m straight. Apparently how you react can tell a lot about yourself.” He didn’t give them a chance to ask more about it though.

“Well, this has been fun, lads. But I’m gonna head out shortly. Just gotta settle up me tab. Oh, and Declan?”

“Yeah?”

“He left without doing that himself. I’m gonna pay it, and tell the barman that he ran off after I rocked his world. Pout a bit about getting me poor heart broke. Ask if I can leave a note for ‘whenever that fit bloke comes back for his abandoned credit card.’

If your sister still doesn’t believe ya, tell her to swing by for it. Cause whoever hands it over to her will be happy to tell her the hot gossip around it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like I said. Not known for being subtle, am I?”

“Cheers.”

#jamie tartt #roy kent #isaac mcadoo #colin hughes #declan cockburn #implied keeley jones #ted lasso #it ain’t queerbaiting just because the lads don’t yet know Jamie is bi

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