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3d-wifey · 7 months

Note

I've read that Johnny NSFW alphabet like 30 times, it was so gooddddd, there's been no good Johnny Cage smut or writing in general honestly. Your Johnny just feels so in character and you're feeding me crumbs, I need moreeee 🥺🥺🥺🥺 (that sneak peek made me levitate)

Show 'em Who I Belong To

Pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader Synopsis: Johnny has seriously pissed you off this time, like, royally. The "begging on his knees" kind of pissed off. But luckily, he knows just the thing to do to prove he’s sorry. Word Count: 2.58k Playlist: Here's a Johnny Cage playlist to read his smut or just get inspo from, I made it myself TW: Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, dom!reader, sub!johnny cage, switch!Reader, switch!johnny cage, dom!johnny cage, sub!Reader, Forgiveness, Making Up, Apology Sex, Vaginal Penetration, Recording, Sex Tapes, Exhibitionism, Begging, Hand Jobs, Grinding, Crying During Sex, johnny cage loves you, johnny cage is just really really dumb, celebrity!reader, No Spoilers, Making Out, "straight" couple, johnny's slutty little slacks, Johnny cage is a little shit, Pussy drunk, cock drunk, Praise Kink, simp johnny cage, no other canon characters show up in this, Smut, Shameless Smut, Gratuitous Smut A/N: Since the poll I put on Tumblr voted for switch!Johnny, that's what I'm doing! This chapter will mostly be sub!johnny and dom!reader with a switch at the end. It's a bit of a mixed pov, but it's mainly from the reader's pov. Nothing but Dom!Johnny in the next chapter and sorry if the quality was lacking, I've slept a total of 10 hours in a span of 72 hours. CHECK OUT THAT JOHNNY NSFW ALPHABET I WROTE, IT'S CONSIDERED CANON TO THIS! Part 2 (tbm) Ao3

Your acrylics tap a beat onto the arm of the plush white couch as you read the tweet on your phone.

" Johnny Cage spotted cozying up on set with Co-Star. Has the star finally met his match? " Your nails stop and you glance at where Johnny kneels fidgeting on the floor in front of you before looking back to the screen.

He spreads his hands. "Okay, I know this looks bad." His voice floats in the otherwise quiet mansion. "But will you please stop ignoring me?"

You look down your nose at him. "Is this enough attention for you?" You sneer and he grimaces.

"My PR team cooked this up a while ago and they've been hounding me about it for ages. It was so unimportant to me that it sorta...slipped my mind." He shrugs and your glare hardens him. " C'mon , babe, it's just a little publicity stunt our agents had us do for the movie. It doesn't mean anything." He laughs and his nonchalance about the situation is pissing you off more than you already are.

"Do I look like I'm laughing?" You fume and his brows furrow. "This isn't funny, Jonathan."

" Oof, " he winces, "government name."

You're both celebrities, you know what you signed up for when you agreed to date him after years and years of his begging and truly horrible pickup lines.

You're not mad about the situation itself, not really. You've gotten into drama before loads of times to drum up hype around a new project, but nothing like this. At least, not while you were dating Johnny.

You're mad that you had to find out about it from the trending page on Twitter along with a slew of concerned messages from your friends, family, and manager.

You scroll down and read messages concerned fans have posted, worried that you and Johnny have broken up or, worse, that he cheated on you. But you know that he knows that you know he wouldn’t dare.

"Look at this shit." You shove your phone in his face. The screen reflects off the sunglasses that sit low on the bridge of his nose and he squints as the brightness nearly blinds him. "'I hope this isn't how she finds out.' 'I'd be so embarrassed if I was her.' 'I knew Johnny wouldn't stay faithful for long.'"

He looks from you to the screen and then back to you. "...You're mad."

You stare down at him.

"You are un- fucking -believable.” You move to stand up, but he grabs ahold of your hips.

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry, I'm sorry ! I didn't mean to upset you. Next time, I'll give you a heads up— I mean I'll run it by you.” Johnny corrects, pulling you closer when you try to pull away again. "What can I do to make it up to you, huh?" The muscles in his biceps flex against you as he wraps his arms around your waist. You try to stay firm, but it's pretty hard when he's pressing reverent kisses to your stomach.

You shiver from the coldness of his rings as he runs a big hand up your calf, traveling up your outer thigh to hook the hem of your dress at your hip before repeating the process up your other leg.

You want to stay mad—you are mad. This is incredibly careless and he didn't consider your feelings at all and...and you don't want him to think he can get out of trouble by kissing up to you. But, begrudgingly, you card your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck.

"I'm still really upset about this, Johnny." You frown.

"I know, sweetheart. And I really am sorry. But, hey! I know something that'll make us both feel better." He grins up at you and you let him lead you back to the couch with a huff, dropping down once the back of your calves brush the white upholstery.

“I’m sure you do.” You roll your eyes, spreading your legs to make room for him without thinking. “How would you —ahh !” You yelp at the sudden pinprick of pain on the skin of your inner thigh and it morphs into a moan when the pinch is quickly followed by a warm heat. You look down in time to see the pink of Johnny’s tongue as he licks over the tender spot—tender because he bit you like a damn dog!

“I’m sorry, what were you saying? I couldn’t really hear you over all those cute little noises.” You can feel the shit-eating grin against your skin as he talks. “You’re so sensitive. Definitely not a complaint—it does amazing things to my ego.” He laughs, hooking his hands under the back of your knees and pushing your legs up until the heels of your feet are balancing precariously on the edge of the seat.

He grips your hips, pulling you further down the couch and closer to his face. He moves your legs so your feet rest on his shoulders, the white polish of your toenails reflecting the light.

He leans in and you hold your breath in anticipation. You don’t want him to think he can just distract you and you’ll forget about being mad at him but—he leans in close to where the skirt of your sundress rucks up around your stomach, warm breath making you clench around nothing with each pant—but you like getting ate out almost as much as Johnny likes to do it.

You sigh as the warm, wet heat of his tongue drags across the damp seat of your panties.

" Johnny. " You whine in frustration, fingers tightening in his sandy hair, as he pulls away as quickly as he came.

"Hold on, sweetheart. I think you're gonna like this." He grins, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. You pause as he unlocks it and presents it to you, camera on and recording you.

"What the hell are you doing?" You try to push as much disapproval into your voice as you can as you flip it from the front-facing camera to the rear one, but that’s an almost impossible task since he’s rubbing his nose up and down the crease of where your thigh meets your pussy. You end up sounding far more breathy than intended.

"What?” He grins into the camera. “You can watch this whenever you need a reminder of who I belong to." He says and if you weren't wet before, you definitely are now.

For as long as you’ve known him, Johnny has never been one to half-ass anything . It’s whole ass or nothing with him putting 110% into everything he’s faced with. However, when you first started dating, you hadn’t thought that would hold up when he had his head between your legs—yet another thing Johnny went out of his way to prove you wrong about.

The camera captures it the moment he pushes your panties to the side; he’s in his element.

There’s no preamble, no warning. Johnny dives in giving you no time to prepare for the shock of pleasure. You jerk away, but he holds onto your hips, hands becoming heavy weights you can’t lift.

“You always taste so good for me, it’s insane.” He groans as your thighs try to squeeze his head, but he keeps them open easily. You sigh shakily at the casual show of strength. “I’d stay down here forever if you’d let me.” You bite your lip to muffle your soft moans, reminding yourself to steady the phone every few seconds, but forgetting to do so almost as soon as you do. But you can’t be blamed when Johnny gives head like he’s training for the Olympics; trying to break his previous record each attempt. You’ve been eaten out by people other than Johnny—of course, you have. It’s a requirement—but none of your past lovers come anywhere close to this. Johnny blows them out of the water every time.

That would be fine if you didn’t factor in his ego. Which would also be fine…any other day. But today, after the shit he pulled, you aren’t in the mood. This is supposed to be his way of apologizing, after all. So before he can get any ideas, you blink past the haze he’s put you in and grab the back of his neck. His back stiffens. He glances up at you and the shift is so swift that you doubt the camera even picked it up. His shoulders relax, almost limp against you, wide eyes going lidded as his grip on you softens.

“I know you can be louder than that, Johnny. I, hah , wanna hear how sorry you are. You are sorry, right?” You narrow your eyes.

His words are muffled since he refuses to take his mouth off of you, but you’re able to make out ‘yes’ and ‘princess’ which is good enough for you. Through the camera, you manage to get his pleading eyes and his hand unabashedly palming his bulge in the same frame and you smile around a moan.

"Are you hard, Johnny?" He doesn't hesitate to nod enthusiastically, and you feel yourself throb in his mouth. You're sure if your feet were on the ground he'd be grinding against your leg shamelessly. His body knows this too since his hips keep making aborted little thrusts, itching for relief from his tight gray slacks. "Heh, of course, you are. You can't help yourself, c–can you? Go on, then.”

He pauses, assessing you for a second to see if you’ll follow it up with anything else. You’re being surprisingly benevolent. He always has to work to earn your approval when you get like this, any pleasure he gets is dictated by you—not that he’s complaining—and that’s on the days when he hasn’t pissed you off. He honestly didn’t think he’d be cumming tonight, but he won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

He buries his tongue in you, licking from your pulsing hole to your throbbing clit as his hands work to unbuckle his belt and pull his dick out. He groans in relief once he’s free, squeezing the base of his dick so he doesn’t cum too quickly. You’re certainly not helping, shivering against him like a house in a storm and he moans in synch with you when you yank on his hair.

He freezes at the press of sharp nails at the nape of his neck. He shivers at the slight pinch of pain before leaning into it and you reward him with smoothing down the hair there. He stops the movement of his hands, but not his mouth.

“If you’re touching yourself, you’ll do it slowly or not at all. You wanna make it up to me, don’t you? Yeah ?” You hiss as he nods against you, mouth a tight suction on your clit. “Then you don’t cum until I do.” Normally he’s more bratty than this, making you fuck the submission out of him, but he must really be sorry because he does just as you say. He slows down as you instruct, his sharp brows furrowing as one of his hands grip the fat of your thigh. His other hand jerks him off haltingly like he actively has to remind himself to obey you.

“You’re being so good for me, baby.” You gush, squirming in his hold. “ Mmh, s’fucking good.” You have to adjust your grip on his phone when he grunts at your praise, uncertain if you should jerk away or towards the vibrations. You run your nails over his scalp before yanking on his blond hair and he moans like a pornstar, hips thrusting into his hand. To the untrained eye—or ear—it seems like he’s playing it up for the camera, performing, but he’s always this loud. Especially when he’s got your pussy in his mouth.

It's almost embarrassing, the wet sounds of Johnny sloppily eating you out. Your moans mix with his and bounce around the mansion's walls with a filthy echo the longer this goes on.

He stiffens his tongue and you know what he wants. You move your hand to the back of his head, gripping the soft strands to pull him forward. You thrust your hips with helpless, heady moans as you fuck his face. His heavy gaze burns through the camera to stare up at you with his tongue out. The corner of his mouth quirks up into a smirk and he winks. You throw your head back, eyes closed with an obscene moan and he moves forward to press his nose against your clit, tongue flat as you move his head side to side.

“Johnny , mmh, ‘m gonna, f– fuck, ‘m gonna cum!” You cry and he moans into you in response. You glance down to see his foggy glasses riding low on his nose and he stares right back, brown eyes half open but full of lust. The apples of his flushed cheeks become accentuated, sharpening with his grin. The barest hint of teeth brush your clit before pressing against it and you jerk back with the strength of your orgasm. Your mouth falls open with a repeated whine of his name, legs shaking as you hold his head still.

“Damn.” He curses, pulling away when your muscles untense. He doesn't bother wiping his mouth, wearing your slick like a trophy as he smiles into the camera. “Should’ve got that on camera. It was a money shot.” You scoff, smiling despite yourself. You pull his glasses off and sit them on your head before you press stop on the camera and toss the phone on the couch beside you, pulling him to you by the open collar of his button-up. You kiss him deep, tasting yourself on his tongue with a groan. His hands go to your hips and you wrap your legs around his waist, licking into his mouth.

“You played dirty.” You slide your hand down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as you go. You grab his dick, still hard and leaking against his stomach. He laughs before whimpering into your mouth at your touch, rutting up into it. You swipe a thumb across his tip where precum drips down the underside of the head. "You're so wet, baby. This all for me?" You pull away to lick yourself off him, tongue dragging across the skin of his chin as you twist your wrist with every upward stroke.

"Are you joking? O–of course. Can, shit , can you blame me?” He puffs into your neck, hot air warming your neck as you alternate between licking and kissing his jaw. His fingers spasm around your hips, and your hands fly to his shoulders when he pulls you forward until your ass is barely on the edge of the couch. Now he’s in the perfect position to—

You gasp as he ruts against you, still sensitive as his dick slides between your pussy lips. There’s no friction with how wet you both are and with every upwards thrust he bumps your twitching clit.

“Wait, I’m— mmnh —Johnny, I’m sensitive.”

“Ah, ah, sweetheart. You said I can cum when you do,” you jump when he nips at your neck, strong arms wrapping around your back holding you tight to him. “Besides, I’m not done apologizing.” You rock against him despite your complaining. The overwhelming feeling only increases when he bends over you to reach something, and it’s enough to distract you from the sound a phone makes when you press record.

#johnny cage #3d wifey answers #johnny cage x reader #mk1 johnny cage #johnny cage smut #sub!johnny cage #mk smut #mk1 smut #mk1 x reader #mk x reader #dom!reader #mortalkombat #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1

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loki-cees-all · 4 months

Text

Some Things Are Easier to Say in the Dark {Avengers!Loki x Female Reader One-Shot}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link

Pairing : Avengers!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : You and Loki absolutely despise each other. A mission to Finland forces you to work together undercover in the days leading up to Christmas, and then a blizzard traps you at an inn with only one bed. Suddenly all those teasing games aren't so fun anymore, and the animosity takes you both down a path neither of you anticipated.

W/c : 6.2k words

Content / Warnings : Enemies to Lovers, Snowed In, Only One Bed, Shameless Smut, Fingering, Teasing, Hate-Fucking, Cowgirl Position

Author's Note : My entry for @sarahscribbles' Christmas Collection, using the ✨ Enemies to Lovers ✨ prompt. Hope you enjoy it, dear!

18+ Only - Minors DNI

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This had to be a joke.

Not only had you been given the ridiculous assignment of “accompanying” the newest member of the Avengers, the so-called God of Mischief, to Finland. Not only did you know it wasn’t accompaniment, it was actually babysitting, because despite Thor’s intense insistence that his brother be given this chance at redemption, the rest of the team still didn’t quite trust him yet.

Not only were you sure that this mission was just busy work - a way to simultaneously keep Loki distracted, and away from the prying eyes of the American government and media. And not only had this man single handedly usurped your rise from common S.H.I.E.L.D. agent to the next member of the Avengers, because the dungeons on Asgard were just too cruel for the precious Prince…

But now, there was only one bed left in this entire goddamn inn.

The sweet old woman checking you in apologized profusely when she broke the news, and you just stood there, silently fuming and clenching your jaw so hard your teeth would be aching for days. Truthfully, you should have known better - it was only four days before Christmas; how could you forget that it was technically a holiday, and that millions of people around the world would be traveling for leisure right now?

Maybe it was just because you couldn't recall the last time you'd taken a vacation, or the fact that you hadn’t spent a holiday with loved ones in years. Or maybe you’d been cursed somehow - most likely by the man standing next to you, with an infuriatingly charming grin on his face.

“Please don’t worry about it, my dear, we’ve just had quite a long day of traveling,” Loki gently assured the woman, reaching for her hand as she all but cowered in fear at your palpable rage. She seemed to relax as Loki soothed her, and you hated that it was him covering for your negative attitude instead of the other way around. “My fiancé - she’s just a bit old fashioned, and she wants to wait until marriage, you see...”

The woman smiled as if he was describing kittens snuggling together on a cold and rainy evening, and you were this close to absolutely losing your temper; he was already deviating from your mutually agreed upon cover story, that you were simply colleagues traveling to the Muotkatunturi Wilderness Area on a research trip, and he intentionally chose his own cover story to replace it - one that was designed to deliberately piss you off.

You knew Loki could feel the anger radiating off your skin, and he turned towards you with a smile of his own as he continued to act as your doting fiancé. “And I’m determined to make that a reality. I promise, I’ll be fine sleeping on the floor, alright, darling?”

He slipped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, his emerald eyes shining as he surely relished in your discomfort. You tried to focus on that, on how angry you were at him about everything - instead of his warm embrace, or how inviting his scent was.

“Well, you’re in luck. We’ve got the most comfortable floors in all of Rovaniemi!” the woman laughed as she returned to filling out the guestbook.

It was humiliating, but it seemed as though you had no choice. You let out a heavy exhale, deciding it would be easier to just go along with his story and get this interaction over with as quickly as possible. Your only saving grace was that this was temporary - soon this reconnaissance mission would be over, and sooner or later Loki would ruin the good graces of Tony and Steve and be sent back to the dungeons on Asgard.

But until then, you were going to have to find a way to make him pay for all of this later on.

“There’s my girl. Always the brave little soldier,” he purred softly, leaning down as if he was going to kiss you. Your eyes widened in panic, desperately fighting the urge to push him away and possibly punch him in his handsome face, but Loki caught the hint and quickly looked the other way.

You turned your attention back to the front desk as the woman fiddled with the paperwork, and a group of figurines for sale caught your eye, nestled among the garland and twinkling lights. A wicked grin crept across your face as you nudged Loki’s ribs unplayfully. “Look, dear - they’ve got some Odin statues for sale. Shall we buy some to hand them out with our Christmas gifts this year?”

Loki’s gaze slowly descended into madness, and you cheered silently once you were sure you’d gotten under his skin. His jaw tightened, along with the hand pressed against your ribs, but the woman smiled happily, unaware of just who she was talking to.

“Ah, yes - these make excellent souvenirs!” the woman laughed as she picked up one of the figurines, admiring the wood carving with a loving eye. “Did you know that the myth of Santa Claus is based partially on the myth of Odin - and that it all started right here in Rovaniemi?”

“Oh, I had no idea!” you lied, almost giddy with how much this was going to piss Loki off. “Could you tell me more about that? I find Norse mythology to be just fascinating…Of course, that pesky God of Mischief certainly leaves a lot to be desired, wouldn’t you say?”

She opened her mouth to answer, clearly very pleased that someone was finally so interested in her offerings, but Loki quickly interjected with barely contained rage. “Actually, if you could just focus on retrieving our room key now, I’d really appreciate it.”

“What is the God of Mischief’s name? Loki, or something like that?” you continued with absolute delight, slipping your arm around his waist the way he’d done while teasing you. “Pretty ridiculous name, if you ask me. Thor’s name is so much more elegant…”

“Well, it’s funny you should mention that. The name Loki actually means - ”

“The keys! Now. Please,” Loki snapped as he yanked your arm away, gripping your wrist so hard you were sure it was going to leave a bruise. That was definitely going in your mission report once you’d returned to Stark Tower.

The woman faltered briefly, clearly not expecting the charming man to shift his attitude so abruptly, but she reluctantly obliged and began rummaging around in a drawer for a set of room keys.

“You’ll have to excuse my fiancé, m’am…He just doesn’t believe in all that Norse mythology nonsense, even though I think it’s super interesting…” you smirked as Loki stewed with indignation. “But it’s just this one night that you have to endure the tall tales of Norse mythology, and then we’re off to Inari in the morning…aren’t we, sweetheart?”

The sweet old woman furrowed her brow as she pulled the last set of keys from the drawer and extended them over the counter. “Oh, didn’t you hear about the blizzard arriving tonight? They’re saying it’s the storm of the century. I doubt you two will be going anywhere for a while.”

Loki’s face fell alongside yours, and you both turned to the woman with matching grimaces. “I beg your pardon?”

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Your mood quickly soured by the time Loki led the way upstairs to your room; of course there was a blizzard incoming, and of course it would mean you were trapped here longer than anticipated with the most inconsiderate man alive. He took the stairs two at a time, leaving you behind to struggle with your luggage, while his belongings were no doubt stored easily inside that stupid pocket dimension of his.

If just one more thing went wrong on this trip, you feared you might actually lose it - consequences be damned.

By the time you made it down the hallway to the door of your room, Loki was casually leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and a brooding expression on his face. If you didn’t hate him so much, it would have been a beautiful sight to behold.

“Hey, thanks for offering to help,” you called out sarcastically as you made your way over to him. “I’m absolutely shocked by how thoughtful and courteous you are.”

Loki scoffed and pushed himself off the wall as he pulled the key out of his pocket. “I could have just gone inside and left you wondering which door was ours. You should be grateful I didn’t.”

“Aww, is someone a little mad that I made him think about Odin?” you taunted, enjoying the way he tensed up again at the sound of his father’s name.

“No, it was just foolish. Do not make that mistake again…”

The door swung open and you rolled your eyes as you followed him inside. “Are you threatening me?”

Loki whipped around with barely restrained fury as soon as the door closed. “We’re meant to be under cover here, yes? So do you really think it’s a good idea to be throwing around my actual name just to infuriate me?” he snapped angrily, eyes blazing and fists clenching at his sides.

Your stomach did a flip in your abdomen, and you struggled to maintain an air of defiance as he continued. “You don’t know who anyone is here, or who could be listening to our conversations. So keep your mouth shut if you don’t want us to be discovered! Am I being clear?”

You nodded meekly, because that was all you could manage while kicking yourself. He was right, you were being foolish and forgetting the true purpose of this trip. Hydra could easily have eyes and ears everywhere, and if you kept pissing Loki off, he might not be inclined to save you if necessary.

And you hated that it might be necessary, because he was a literal God with infinite magic at his disposal, while you were just a fallible little human that he absolutely despised.

As Loki turned away and started pulling the drapes shut, you distracted yourself with examining the room you’d been given. Three large windows took up the entire outside wall of the room, and on either side of the lone queen-sized bed were two end-tables, each with a dark green lamp providing the only light to the room. A stone fireplace sat on the opposite side of the bed, decorated with greenery and frosted miniature Christmas trees, and a tiny wooden desk and chair were the only other pieces of furniture in the room.

It was definitely cozy, even you couldn’t deny that, but that just made it worse. In any other circumstances, you might have enjoyed this break; but the Christmas decorations just reminded you of how alone you were, and Loki’s presence only reminded you of how unnecessary you were.

And it was already starting to get uncomfortably cold inside the room. Just before Loki yanked the last curtain closed, you caught a glimpse of the snow outside; it had quickly transformed from light flurries into heavy sheets of frozen precipitation. You were in for a very cold, very long and lonely night, and daylight couldn't come soon enough.

A deep sense of dread settled in the base of your spine as you realized how long you might be trapped here with this narcissistic, self-important and delusional mockery of all the sacrifices you’d made to get to this point of your career.

You’d foregone relationships with family, friends and potential lovers to spend every waking moment either training your body or honing your skills, trying to prove your worth and dedication to keeping this world safe from anything that ever threatened it.

And the planet’s most recent threat, the reason for the Avengers’ very existence, was making himself busy pulling pillows and blankets off the bed to make his own on the hardwood floor. Loki was silent as he worked, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually hurt by your teasing.

You hated it. You hated this - especially since you hadn’t expected to feel so badly about taunting him. Clearing your throat, you set your suitcase on the chair and pretended to look for something inside. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened before. I guess I’m just…on edge.”

“Why bother?” he replied coldly, and you didn’t know if it was because he wasn’t actually hurt, or if it was because he didn’t care that you were potentially sorry about hurting him. Either way, the dismissal stung.

You continued rummaging through the suitcase, anything to avoid looking at your roommate for the night. How long had it been since you’d shared such close quarters with another person? Had there been anyone since college? You already felt raw and exposed by the idea of falling asleep within the same four walls as another person; but at the very least, Loki was sticking to his word about sleeping on the floor and not in the bed with you.

“You’re not worried about the mission? Or the blizzard? Or the fact that we might kill each other at any moment?” you laughed nervously, hoping to at least break some of the tension.

Loki sighed. “This mission is a joke. The blizzard might be a problem, and yes - we might certainly try to kill each other…but none of that is cause for real concern - not to me, anyway.”

Your brow furrowed, and you turned to look at him; the God of Mischief was on his hands and knees, arranging pillows and blankets on the floor. It was an amusing sight, and you struggled to maintain focus. “Wait - you think this mission is a joke?”

He paused what he was doing, staring off into the distance with regret in his eyes as if he’d already said too much but couldn’t bring himself to stop. “Don’t think for one moment that I don’t know what this mission actually is…”

You rubbed your neck nervously, unsure of where he was going with this.

“I know how easily it would be for Stark to send in his machines to do this reconnaissance, and that the Scepter likely isn’t here. Obviously, I’d be the last person they’d ever want close to it,” Loki continued, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefingers. “I know the others are probably on the other side of the world recovering it as we speak, and that this mission is completely pointless - hence, assigning you and I to it.”

Your heart sank as he spoke, knowing that he was probably right; that this mission was utterly pointless, that it wouldn’t advance you any further in your career. That the only thing this mission was going to lead to was meaningless and unnecessary frustration and pain for the both of you.

“I know what they - and you - don’t particularly like or trust me. And you have good reason not to.” Loki cast a tragic glance in your direction before quickly looking away again.

“So why are you here then? If you don’t want to be here, and if you don’t…” you trailed off, unsure if you should finish that thought.

Loki sighed and shook his head. “It…doesn’t matter,” he answered sadly, and your heart broke over the entire situation. You didn’t know what to say to make either of you feel better, and it was likely that nothing ever would.

“There. I think that’ll do nicely,” he announced pleasantly, abruptly changing the subject and rousing you from your pensive thoughts. You glanced over to see a grown man - a God, in fact - standing proudly over the neatly arranged pillows and blankets on the floor, and for a brief moment you couldn’t help but be amused by the sight - that is, until you noticed the state of your sleeping quarters for the foreseeable future.

“You stripped off most of the bed!” you protested angrily, examining the three paltry blankets left to keep you warm overnight.

“On the contrary - I stripped precisely half of the bed,” Loki replied as he began to remove his coat. “Of course, there’s a simple and quite easy way to double your warmth if you’re so concerned…”

“Absolutely not.” The words came out harsher than you’d intended, but even just sharing four walls felt way too close to him; sharing a bed was probably way more than you ever could handle.

“Fair enough. Shall I light a fire to keep us warm then?” Loki offered without skipping a beat, the sudden change in his tone giving you multiple rounds of whiplash. He stepped over to the fireplace to examine it, running his hands over the stone hearth’s arch before crouching next to the pile of logs.

How was he able to switch so suddenly, from profound soundness to being so thoughtful? You wanted to accept the kindness and be grateful for the change in tone, but all it did was put you on edge. You sat down on the bed and began to unlace your boots, still desperately trying not to look at him. “Don’t bother on my account,” was all the response you could manage.

The room was silent for a moment, and you could almost feel the gears turning inside Loki’s head as he tried to come up with something else to say. But why was he trying so hard? You had been counting on him retreating into himself the way he always did back at Stark Tower, or worst case - that he would be deliberately messing with you, making your life hell and again ruining your chances at proving yourself worthy.

You could feel his gaze boring into the back of your skull as your boots clattered to the floor. And when he still hadn’t tried to speak, you cautiously looked over your shoulder to him. “Was there something else you wanted?”

Loki sighed and let his eyes drift away as he shook his head. An expression of restrained exasperation crawled across his features as he made his way to the makeshift bed on the floor. “Nothing. I don’t need anything from you…”

Your brow furrowed and guilt poured into your veins with every step he took. But guilt about what? You weren’t friends. You owed him nothing. This was just a mission - nothing more, and nothing less. You opened your mouth to speak, but Loki was already laying down on the floor with his back to you, clearly uninterested in speaking anymore that night.

The room seemed colder after Loki withdrew. It was an odd, incredibly distracting feeling - one that you hadn’t ever prepared yourself for, and didn’t have the energy to explore at the moment. Sleep was calling out to you, beckoning you closer as it always did whenever the feelings all became too much.

It took so much effort to crawl underneath the three blankets on your bed, and you didn’t even bother changing out of your street clothes before cocooning yourself inside. You thought about everything in your life that had led up to this incredibly excruciating moment, all the choices you’d made and the pain you’d gone through.

All that sacrifice, and where had it gotten you?

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

Sleep did not come easy for you that night. Despite your body exhausted from travel and the gentle bed cradling your wearied soul, you laid awake far longer than you would have expected. So many thoughts flitting uncontrollably across your mind, so many shivers slipping along your frigid bones.

A cold draft seeped in through the seams of the windowsills as the snow poured down outside. You were still awake, curled up on your side with the blankets pulled tight around your narrow frame. Eyelids pulled shut and breath held cautiously, you struggled to keep from shivering too much as you imagined Loki on the floor.

He had to be colder than you were, and part of you wanted to ignore his possible discomfort. He deserved it, didn’t he? Maybe if he was more pleasant to be around, it wouldn’t have to be like this.

But another part of you hoped he’d be so uncomfortable that he’d ask to join you in the bed. Your thoughts returned to when he had slipped his arm around your waist earlier that evening, and you struggled to keep your heart rate in check. It was wrong, you knew it was so wrong because you were supposed to hate him, the villain who had terrorized New York City, and he was supposed to hate you, a simple mortal who was only good for kneeling.

“I know you’re awake.” His voice was a whisper, a small shadow in a room full of empty ones. You slowly opened your eyes, your pupils taking their time to adjust the dark and make out the furniture inside the room. You wanted to sit up, to peer out into the world and see if he looked any different on the floor.

“Can’t sleep. It’s too cold,” you murmured softly, barely able to even pull the blankets tighter around you.

Loki sighed off in the distance. “The power’s been knocked out by the storm, so the heating’s off.”

It was only then that you realized the bedside table lamps had gone out. Too busy retreating inside yourself, the only warm place you had left. “Oh. Hadn’t noticed.”

“I could light the fire now, if you’d like.”

No, you thought. No, that won’t do. That’s not what I want from you. “Why are you being so nice to me now?”

Loki stirred on the floor, presumably shifting underneath his blankets. He could be sitting up right now, looking at you in the dark and you wouldn’t ever know. “Some things are easier to say in the dark.”

You thought for a moment, wondering about how to beckon him closer without risking rejection, or your dignity. This shouldn’t happen; and yet, it never ever would in the light. “Then let’s stay in the dark.”

Loki didn’t respond, and silence descended upon the room again. You couldn’t stop the shivers tormenting your flesh, and your teeth clattered together as you waited for a response. This time, you were sure you were going to freeze to death, despite burning in the waiting, and yearning, and longing that rolled up and down your spine.

“But where there’s light…there’s heat,” Loki finally answered. His voice was closer, much closer now; he’d stood up, and maybe he was right next to the bed. Could you reach out and touch him? Should you?

“I’m doing just fine in the cold.”

Loki chuckled, and you felt the blankets pull away as the mattress dipped under his weight. “You shouldn’t lie to the God of Mischief, dear,” he whispered softly as he settled in behind you, curling his knees behind yours and brushing his nose against your ear.

His body was so very warm, and you were aching for his touch. “I think it’s only fair. You came to my bed, and left your blankets on the floor…” you sassed, unable to help yourself.

“You want me to retrieve them?” Loki’s voice carried the slightest hint of mockery as he started to pull away. You panicked and grabbed his hand, eagerly pulling his arm back around your waist.

“So fussy…” he murmured with a smile, his voice hot against your neck as he settled in to spoon you once more. “You want heat, but not light. You hate me, but you want me close…”

You melted in his arms, and forced out a soft, defiant sigh. “You have no idea what I want…”

“And you do?” He matched your sigh with one of his own, and pressed his hand flat against your stomach, moving languidly over the fabric of your many shirts and jackets. You could feel how much he wanted to move his hand upwards to more stimulating areas, and it was so very thrilling.

“So what do you want, hmm? Why did you tell the innkeeper we were engaged, when that wasn’t our planned cover story?” you whispered, shifting your hips and ass against his crotch.

Loki swallowed a deep groan, and you could feel your own arousal beginning to coat your inner thighs. His hand latched onto your hip, but he didn’t stop you from moving.

“Was it just to piss me off, or was it because you wanted to pretend it was true?” you continued, shifting back against him and hoping the movement would cause your clothing to reveal a little bare skin.

“The…first option. Obviously…” Loki whispered, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear as his hips started to grind against yours.

You swallowed back a moan, trying desperately to ignore his hardened length against the swell of your ass. “Which one of us is the liar now?”

“Gods, do you ever stop talking?!” he hissed as he began rummaging underneath your jacket, eagerly searching for bare skin as he pulled your shirt upwards. His hand finally found your bare hip, and his touch was white hot as he began unbuttoning your jeans.

This time, you didn’t bother hiding the moan, and you twisted ever so slightly underneath the sheets to encourage him to keep going. Your heart beat frantically in your chest and your lips parted, intending to tease him one more time with the brattiest ‘make me’ ever spoken aloud…

And then his fingers dipped beneath the waistband to slip between your slick thighs.

The sound that tumbled from your lips was equally parts gasp and whimper as his fingertips grazed over your soaked clit, and his breath was heavy against your neck. “There we go. That’s more like it…” he whispered breathlessly, slowly dragging his fingers back and forth.

Your thighs drifted apart, as much as they could while trapped inside the unyielding jeans, and your hips rolled eagerly as he pressed harder against your clit. Heat flooded your veins, pooling beneath your cheeks and spilling out of your lungs as you whimpered for more.

Loki slipped his other arm around your shoulder, those fingers curling in your hair as his lips started to kiss and suck along your neck. “So sensitive…have you always been this wet for me?”

“Yes…” you moaned honestly, unable to deny it any longer. You’d say anything to make him keep going, to keep those delicate fingers pressing and massaging and coaxing endless satisfaction from you.

“That’s a shame. We could have been doing this the whole time then…” he groaned heavily, shuddering and sighing along as if he was getting as much pleasure out of this as you were.

“Oh, my god - Loki!” you gasped as he slipped a finger inside, slowly pushing and withdrawing it from your swollen, throbbing pussy. Your hips bucked with his movements, and your fingers curled around your clothing, desperately trying to pull and shift to give him more room to work.

Loki smiled against your neck, and brought his lips up to nibble on your earlobe as he added a second finger. “This feels good, doesn’t it? You’re enjoying what I’m doing to you?”

That familiar coil of release was beginning to contract inside your core, tighter than it ever had before. Frantic whimpers of ecstasy fell from your lips, unashamed and without second-guessing. With your eyes closed and your hips writhing, you moaned louder and louder as your climax approached.

“Careful, little one. Do you want the innkeeper to hear us breaking our vows of chastity?” he taunted in a low, thrumming voice against your ear.

“I don’t care, I don’t care! Just, please - keep going!”

Loki’s fingers moved faster still, skillfully and without hesitation, as if he was completely determined to bring you to Heaven himself. But just as the floodgates were about to open, just as you were about to come so very hard, he cruelly withdrew his fingers.

“What?! No!” Your eyes flew open in shock as the pressure receded and the coil in your belly began to loosen.

Loki gazed at you with a triumphant grin on his face, his emerald eyes blazing in the dark. “Maybe now you’ll be nicer to me…now that you know what I can do to you…” he murmured, bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking your arousal from them.

Your mind reeled uncontrollably, so furious and yet still so turned on by the pleasure he’d brought and subsequently taken from you. “I- I can’t believe you…Wh-why would you’d d-do this…?” you stammered, clumsily pushing yourself up to sitting.

Loki settled on his back, grinning from ear to ear as he watched you struggling to pull your jacket off. “Surely you can. But the real question is…what are you going to do about it, hmm?”

“Oh, my God, I hate you. I hate you so much,” you groaned as you finally freed the zipper and yanked the jacket off your frame. You stumbled out of the bed, thighs trembling violently as you worked to remove the rest of your clothing. You weren’t lying; you did hate him, but goddammit he was so alluring and you desperately needed to come.

Loki watched hungrily as you stripped the rest of your clothing away and climbed back onto the bed, settling yourself over his hips. “Well, this is certainly an interesting strategy,” he whispered as he curled a hand behind your neck and pulled your lips down to his.

You moaned deeply as you kissed him back, violently and passionately moving your lips and tongue with his. You eagerly rolled your bare pussy against his clothed hips, searching for any sort of friction and for a way to tease him more than he’d teased you, to make sure you wouldn’t be denied a second time.

He met your lips just as eagerly, groaning and moaning against your mouth as he moved his hands to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing across your nipples and driving you mad with want. Your hands moved to his jacket, grabbing and struggling to align the zipper with the chain and be able to feel his skin directly against yours.

“Use your magic, undo your clothing…” you whispered frantically against his lips, unable to see or think clearly.

“Absolutely not. Show me how much you want me…” Loki hummed teasingly, shifting his hands downwards to grasp your ass and force you to roll harder against his hips.

You grinned, pleased with his words, and pulled back to sit upright on his hips. With your full weight pressing down, you rolled yourself harder against him, and his back arched in pleasure. When his jaw clenched tight and he rolled his hips with yours, you violently pulled the jacket zipper down and then ripped his shirt open.

“Oh, you are going to pay for that, minx!” Loki hissed angrily as shirt buttons went flying across the room. He pulled his hand away as if preparing to smack your ass, but you ignored it, leaned forward to take his nipple between your lips.

Loki moaned loudly as you sucked, flicking your tongue as he squirmed and writhed beneath you. His eyes closed and both of his hands returned to your ass, and you matched every one of his moans with some of your own. Vindication and pleasure rushed up and down your spine - and then he finally magicked his clothes away.

You found yourself pressed directly against the length of his throbbing cock, and you both moaned loudly in unison at the intimate contact. He wasn’t even inside you yet, but you couldn’t believe how amazing it felt already. You shifted to bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent and basking in the warmth of his naked body as your hips gyrated together.

The blizzard outside was forgotten, the cold air nipping at your bare skin was no longer a concern, and in that moment you couldn’t remember why you ever hated him. He whimpered in your ear and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist as your hips writhed in unison, and soon that coil was wrapping itself around every fiber of your being again.

There was nothing anyone could do to stop you from coming this time; in fact, Loki actively encouraged you to keep going through a heated, growling voice. “Yes, take it from me. Let it all out, I’ve got you…” he commanded, his fingers pressing harder into your flesh.

The orgasm ripped through you, searing every nerve ending as you thrashed on top of him. Your fingers and toes curled beyond what you thought was ever possible, and your muscles kept tensing and relaxing, grinding and rolling in a desperate attempt to keep this pleasure flowing.

Loki held on tightly, groaning and gasping right along with you until you finally started to come back down. One by one your muscles relaxed until you lay limp, breathing heavily between parted lips on top of him. You were finally sated, with no thoughts passing through you any longer; maybe now you could finally fall asleep…

Satisfied that you had gotten yours - and the better of him - you started to roll away, but his arms tightened around your body, keeping you on top of him. “Oh, I don’t think so, darling. I’m not done with you yet…”

Your eyes fluttered back open as Loki adjusted your body on top of his, and before you could muster the strength to tease him again, he was pushing himself inside you. It felt incredible, like his body was molded to fit inside yours, and you couldn’t believe he’d somehow figured out what your favorite position was.

A deep whimper of pleasure was all you could manage as you took him in, his cock pulsating inside you and filling you entirely. Loki moved his hands back down to grip your ass as he began to thrust upwards, his thighs tensing and pelvis tilting to hit your sweet spot. You shifted your knees away from his hips and hovered above them as he drove himself into you over and over again.

Almost immediately you were on the verge of coming a second time, and you cried out his name as every nerve ending fired off in rapid succession. Loki’s thrusts were relentless as he came apart with you, his fingers digging into your flesh and hips bucking wildly and uncontrollably beneath you.

You clung to each other the entire time, your minds wracked with pleasure and bodies spent until you were both just panting and laying peacefully in each other’s arms. When clarity returned, you had no idea how to react; should you push him away? Should you say something rude? Was he going to beat you to either of those options first?

The deepest, most vulnerable part of you just wanted to stay there, lingering in the bliss you both had created with each other. You’d never had a partner this exquisite before, and you didn’t know what you were going to do when you returned home - let alone the next morning.

You nestled in against his chest and listened to the sound of his heart beating - steadily, calmly, peacefully. Loki kept his arms around you, and his fingers ran through your hair, gently massaging your scalp as he held you close.

“I’ve got a lot of amends to make,” Loki said quietly, his voice tinged with melancholy.

You blinked and cautiously brought your hand to his chest, placing it soothingly over his heart. “What do you mean?”

“Earlier you asked why I was here. I’ve got a lot of amends to make,” he repeated, placing his hand over yours. “For New York, for the pain I’ve caused my father and brother, for letting myself be - ”

Loki swallowed hard and shook his head, and could almost feel the regret swelling in his eyes. There was something important he wasn’t sharing; maybe he didn’t know how, or maybe he didn’t know if he could trust you yet. Something deep inside you longed to earn that trust, something you didn’t quite understand.

“You don’t need to say it if you don’t want to. But…I’d be willing to listen, whenever you are ready,” you replied sincerely, hoping he’d believe you. And then you continued on, to make a joke and hopefully lighten the mood. “First, though, I think we need to agree to a cease-fire. In the spirit of Christmas, and whatnot.”

Loki smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I knew you’d be the first one to concede…” he murmured playfully. “But I’m feeling generous. Let’s just call it a draw…”

Your mind reeled with possibilities, unsure of what to say that wouldn’t make anything worse or ruin the moment. “Really? I thought your hatred of me was permanent…” you answered cautiously.

Loki shifted his hand to gently grasp your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “I don’t hate you. You just…bewilder and confound me…”

His gaze was soft and warm, and it almost took your breath away. If he was this delicate with someone he found this irritating, how tender could he be with someone he actually loved? And could he ever actually love you someday?

You forced a smile, and traced his cheekbones with your fingertips, hoping he couldn’t read your thoughts. “I don’t know. Maybe all the teasing and insulting was what made this so good?” you murmured playfully.

Loki returned your smile, although there was a hint of sadness you couldn’t quite place etched upon his features. “I suppose we’ll see what happens in tomorrow’s light, won’t we?”

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

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oval3000 · 6 months

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Chapter 3

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

(This might suck idk. I don't know German so it's all Google translate)

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He hasn't left his room for a month. They kept him in their with the straitjacket on. His meals are just vitamins that he has to swallow. You would go in to check up on him, but new orders from the administrator's to not go near at all, so you pass by his room. You would peak through the little window and see him laying on his back with little no to motion on his arms or body entirely. His psychiatrist, Dr. Smith is the only that goes in there. They have sessions in his room instead of the usual spot they have it in.

She was pissed at everyone, specifically you. You are her punching bag, even though it was Ben's fault. "Why hasn't he been given his meds!" She yelled at you.

"We are not allowed to go i-" you tried to explain your her, but she could care less.

"You are his nurse right! Your job is to give him his meds! How did you graduate when you can't even do that!" She yelled at you.

You plead for her to listen to you "I'm sorry, Dr. Smith. I can't it's Mr. Millers orders. No one can go in except you because you are his psychiatrist."

So she strolled her way to the administrator's office.

Ignoring his assistant from telling her that she can't go in. Slaming the door open to see him sitting on his chair, writing whatever cral he writes on paper.

"Sarah calm down!"

"Do you have any idea how dangerous he is, and you want me to deal with him alone! On top of that the lack of guards is making my job harder!" Dr. Smith argued with a hand on her hips and her finger pointing towards Ben.

"Do you remeber when you wanted a nurse to look after him." She rolled her eyes. Yes, you, the nurse. "Do you have any idea how much money is going towards her. Triple the pay for looking after him."

Her hands swing in motion, showing her frustration. "She can't even do her fucking job Ben!"

"If she's alive, then she's doing her job well. What's making this hard, is you barging into my office and telling me what to do when you are the one demanding this." He stood up from his chair, fixing his navy tie. "We're loosing staff. People don't want to go near him. Gabriel is threatening to sue the company. Gaurds are quiting left and right so sorry that there aren't enough staff attending your needs."

She crossed her arms with an annoying sigh leaving her lips tinted with red lipstick. "Then hire more people, I don't see the problem?"

"Did you not hear what I said" he walked towards her, standing toe to toe to her. "Majority of our budget is going towards (Y/n). She's been here for two months now, lasting longer than any other nurses. We can't afford another hire with the same pay to deal with König. Besides he hasn't actually killed anyone in those two months, I'll take that than dealing with someone who has a broken jaw from a simple punch."

"Then ask for more money." She scuffed like if it was a joke she said.

He laughed at her face, "Do you think the government cares to fund more for this place, I already have the staff on my ass for new medical supplies, do you think they are gonna hand me the budget to hire someone with triple pay just because you are scared."

"Then fire (y/n) and hire a new guard, maybe someone with military experience."

"Why would I do that. You came into my office, spreaded your legs cause you were so desperate for a nurse and now you want me to fire her. She hasn't done anything in particularly wrong."

"She doesn't follow orders!"

"She does, you just make it difficult." He came in defense.

"Wasn't she trying to stop you from putting him into a straitjacket?" She smirked while her arms crossed at her chest.

"Yes, and she was right. Putting him in a straitjacket does nothing. He was fine it's just that..." he closed his eyes taking deep breath.

"Just what?" She came closer to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, gently caressing it.

He turned his head to her, he used to lovy dovey with her seduction, but now it's more annoyance. "Eli, the other guard, came to my office the other day and told me that Gabriel was provoking König."

She rolled her eyes, looking around his office. Paying attention to the paintings hanged up on the wall and the light objects he has on his desk. "Like what? Making fun of him? We all make fun the people here what else is new?"

"I don't know the full details, but that's what he told me." He sat a bit on his desk.

"Why does that matter?" She shook her head without a single thought in her brain.

"Gabriel is threatening to sue us. If we fight the legal action, we'll have to defend König. König, just like any other patient represent us, our care. If they find out that Gabriel was the one that caused this, making König the victim it doesn't look good after we placed him in the straitjacket. Like we silencing him out. It will ruin our reputation, we'll all loose our jobs and you fucked your way up here for nothing."

"But he harmed a worker, beside murdered multiple people." She let out a little chuckle, placing her hand on his chest.

He didn't give in, instead, he gave her a stare. "He's ex- military and as for you being his psychiatrist, you'll have to speak on behalf of him. Meaning that people will find out about you, how you never studied to become a doctor you fucked every professor you had to get your degree."

"What are you saying, Ben." Her smile dropped.

"I won't fire (Y/n). She stood up for König, making us look like we care about our patients. As for Gabriel, all he's asking is for some 20,000 thousand dollars, which we can easily give him worth than standing infront of the judge. Which means that we can't afford new guards for you. Besides they're taking off his straitjacket today, so stop being so scared and do your dam job."

"I still think you should fire, (Y/n) atleast." She hummed, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I'm not doing that. Beside she's the only staff that doesn't barge in here demanding stuff. She nice and sweet...." he looked down to the side, " and...young and beautiful. "

She let go of his waist, clenching her jaw. Yes, you being so beautiful. "So what? You want to fuck her? Is that it. Never head young pussy before?"

"You should leave, I have work to do and so do you. This discussion is over." He walked to his desk, sitting down on his chair, unbutton his last few buttons from his dark, navy, blazer.

She stormed off his office, angrly stomping on the white tile floors with her heels creating a louder noise.

You heard the word going around that their taking of his straitjacket, so you quickly gathered what you need to check him up. You saw as the guards took off. He let out a big stretched, flexing more of his muscles. It caused a scare to the guards like a lion letting out a roar.

You walked up to and saw more of his face. He stared at you.

He missed you. He never thought he would miss you. During that month of not seeing you was a time he contemplated about you. Are you made for him or not. He will shut his eyes and images of you will pop up. You smiling at him. Taking good care of him. Watching you squirm under him as you take his full length cock inside your pussy. He'll treat you with respect as long as you do what he says that's all. Seeing your belly swell up with his baby. Can't wait to fuck your tits filled with milk. Can't wait to impregnate you with multiple of his children, making one big happy family. How protective he'll be for his kids, for you. To stand up to the bullies, to show them not to be scared of anything. To hold them if they cry.

He should kill you for making him react this way. He should just kill you. You are just another nurse thinking they have control over him. He use to give orders to people, being the colonel and all, he got the respect he fought for, why does he feel weak around you. You are so sweet and joyful to him. If he was back in the field and saw you, would he kill you. Or maybe fuck you. Maybe that's it. He hasn't done it in so long, so long he hasn't touch a women. He should've just fucked one of the other nurses. Yes, maybe he should do that. Fuck a nurse, just to see. I mean what's the harm in that.

"Aah...yes. right there ngh.... yes...oh fuck that feels good."

The sound of König's footsteps were low that they couldn't hear over the sound of skin slapping against eachother. Watching a men fucking his girlfriend on his bed.

"Does your boyfriend fuck you like this?" Slaming her ass back and forth on his cock.

"Ah....a-aah....he-..he could barley...make me- fuck!..mmgh....wet." She grip the bedsheets hard while he kept pounding her.

No. No. He can't. Not you. He can't. He can't betray you like they did. He can't imagine the face you'll make if you know he fucked another girl. No he should be pure to you. You should be the only one he touches.

He needs you. Okay, it's done. He'll make you his and you'll love him. You'll love him and care for him. Rather you like him or not it's done.

You wrapped the cuff around his bicep and squeeze the bulb reading the numbers on the circle, writing it down. Doing the usual things you have studied for. As you were checking his heartbeat, he reached up which caused you to flinch a bit. His index finger, gently, caressing your cheek. Your back was turned to the guards, making it hard them to see what's going. You stared at him as he touched you with such charisma. His thumb reaching to your chin, hovering over your lips. He placed the tip of his thumb on your bottom lip, gently pulling it out a bit.

You shouldn't have this feeling at the pit of your stomach. You couldn't tell of you didn't smack his hand away because you are scared or because you enjoy it. You never had this much attention, not like this.

"I don't have time to argue with you (Y/n)! Go to your room!" The little girl tuged at her moms shirt.

"Where's daddy?" She felt tears running down her face as her mother poured more wine into her glass, already finishing up the fresh new bottle.

"(Y/n)! Seriously go to room! You are such a headache! Why couldn't your father take you with him! Nauseating!" She dranked the entire glass, slamming the cup on the table.

"Where's daddy?" She said one last time not letting go of her blanket. The same blanket her father got her when she told him she was cold.

"HE LEFT! HE LEFT US (Y/N)! LEFT US FOR THAT BITCH! AND NOW I'M STUCK HERE WITH YOU. HE RUINED MY LIFE. I COULD'VE DONE SOOOO MANY THINGS! But no! I'm stuck to take care of a brat!"

He palmed your cheek, feeling your warmth. He went in closer to you. You could feel his hot breath, quicken as he got closer to your lips.

You pulled back, "I shouldn't- we shouldn't. I mean." You whispered to him.

"Mein liebling (my darling)." He whispered to you. The first time he spoke to you. You couldn't understand him, but he spoke to you. "Du bist mein (you are mine)." He pulled you closer to him, he didn't care if the guards were staring, if anything, he enjoys it. To show everyone that he is yours to touch. "Mein schatz (my sweetheart)," his lips were hovering yours, you felt a little tingle at how close he was.

You know this shouldn't happen. You turned your away from his. You walked back, feeling his grasp letting go. He stared at you witch a smile on his face. You saw the smile he gave you.

When your shift ended and went back to your apartment, the thoughts of what happened lingered into your mind.

That night, you couldn't sleep. He was in your dreams. What if you never pulled way. Were you really going to kiss him. You glazed over the parts where he touched you.

You searched the words he said to you to translate it. Sweetheart, darling, mine.

You felt the butterflies in your stomach again. You never felt so complicated before.

Having a crush on a patient.

You have a crush on König.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x reader #fanfic #konig x reader #yandere konig #yandere könig #konig #könig x y/n #könig x reader #könig cod #könig #könig mw2 #könig call of duty

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philsmeatylegss · 5 months

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I’ve seen a few people, mostly non-American, who don’t know who Henry Kissinger is or what he did. So your local history student and nerd is going to try to give a quick summary of the main atrocities he committed.

-Role in the Vietnam War: this is the first and biggest reason most people have for hating Kissinger. He unnecessarily extended and expanded the war prolonging the already frivolous conflict. He purposefully delayed negotiations. He approved large scale carpet bombings done with the use of B-52 bombs killed thousands to millions of innocent civilians. The Christmas Bombing was an intense, focused bombing that caused large civilian deaths in a short period of time. He engaged in negotiations with the North Vietnamese often without permission or knowledge from the US government. He was the National Security Advisor and overall had much knowledge about 1) how useless the war was 2) the travesties happening to both the North Vietnamese and South, as well as America’s own soldiers.

-Secret Bombing and Invasion in Cambodia: Kissinger (and Nixon) lead secret bombing campaigns in Cambodia aimed to destroy North Vietnamese trails and routes that ran through the country. Cambodia originally pursued neutrality in the war. Its citizens were not involved.

-Invasion and Bombing of Laos: Laos also held North Vietnamese routes, so Kissinger led Operation Lam Son which was a full scale invasion supplied with American air power and weapons. Not that it would matter, but this invasion did little to interrupt the trade routes. The North Vietnamese, made up of people who lived and knew the landscape of Vietnam, were able to adapt and find new routes. There was also secret bombings carried out in Laos, authorized by Kissinger, aimed to destroy the Ho Chi Minh trail, which, once again, wasn’t disrupted and just took innocent civilian lives in Laos. Laos also remained neutral in the Vietnam War. They were not involved, yet they were punished.

-Involvement in the Bangladesh Liberation War: this was a war between Bangladesh and Pakistan. Kissinger remained in a close relationship with Pakistan which, by now, was known to be committing horrendous human rights abuses, including large scale killings of the Bangladeshis. In fact, Kissinger and America provided funding for them. America was aligned in the first place because of bullshit Cold War alliances.

-Supporting and funding a dictator over an elected president: Chile had elected a *gasp* socialist president that really made Kissinger piss his pants. Project FUBELT, directly under Kissinger’s guidance, initiated covert actions to undermine and prevent the socialist President, Salvador Allende, from rising to power. Financial support was provided to anti-Allende groups and would eventually provided support to a military coup who would kill Allende. The leader of the coup, Augusto Pinochet, would then assume power and take rule an authoritarian government and become a dictator for 17 years. Under his rule, torture and executions were carried out against political dissidents and others. This wasn’t a secret.

-Supported the brutal invasion of East Timor: Indonesia would invade and occupy East Timor in 1975. Kissinger and Nixon had knowledge of the invasion beforehand and provided military support despite the knowledge of human rights abuses already taking place in East Timor by the Indonesians, abuses often using US weapons. Massacres, forced displacement, suppression of political dissents, torture, sexual abuse, restrictions of religious and cultural practices, and scorched earth policies are just some examples.

To my knowledge, these are usually the largest reasons cited, but please add more if I’m wrong. There are also lesser known atrocities either supported or funded by Kissinger, many taking place in Africa, that I thoroughly implore you to read about. Please correct any inaccurate things I said.

#rae’s rambles #Henry Kissinger #us politics

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emil1863 · 3 months

Text

More for the au!

The basics, Gods, Demigods, Devil Fruits, all exist.

World Gov + Marines try and keep the whole concept of gods and demigods under wraps. Because I'm working with "D's" carry divinity. And having a good chunk of them outright despise the government isn't a great look.

Luffy is a god while Garp and Dragon are demigods. Luffy can shift between physical and 'divine' form whereas demigods don't have that ability.

Luffy is the successor/inheritor of his predecessor's will and own divinity. But not through reincarnation necessarily. One in the same but they are very much so different. His devil fruit and promise to Shanks cemented his place as the successor to the sun and freedom. When gods and demigods start out, there isn't a wholly set future for what will they will have, or the ideals they will embody. Luffy has always had his cloudy/intangible form.

Imagine Garp's surprise when his grandson, who was supposed to join him in the marines, is set to embody freedom and the sun. He was pissed for a solid week about that. Garp also had to deal with questioning where Dragon had even gotten Luffy from, he still doesn't know.

Ace and Sabo were very adamant that Luffy not show off his divine form to everyone, especially if he wanted to become a pirate. He can't be a pirate if the government tracks him down and hides him away at the ripe age of like, 8. Also because having a full god is pretty uncommon, Sabo has heard horror story after horror story of what nobles and those in higher society would do to a god. Sabo is the most vocal about Luffy being careful about that.

Luffy meets Koby, and does an absolutely terrible job at keeping his form hidden. It's harder to control which form he's in when he's excited. Koby was a human with no divinity and big dreams that Luffy adored. So, already excited with a new friend, and the two on their way to Shells town, Luffy sneezed and immediately sold himself out. Koby is a terrible liar and so just elects to never speak on this topic ever. If anyone asks why he has so much knowledge on gods, specifically sun gods, he just doesn't answer. Helmeppo thinks it's funny and immediately pieced together why, because Koby cannot keep anything from him. And Garp has to respect how hard that kid is trying to not completely sell out his grandson, even if the brat kind of deserves it for being a pirate.

Luffy is going to be the Pirate King, divine or not. His crew quickly find out about his side quirk/form in varying ways. Zoro woke up one day with a cloudy demon from hell cutting off his airways. Nami was trying to explain clouds to Luffy and that 'no, they cannot just spawn on your person, that's stupid,' and so Luffy shows her that he is in fact, correct.

Usopp got jumpscared early in the morning, before the sun had risen, when Luffy just appeared behind him and asked if he wanted to watch the sunrise. Sanji was cooking dinner and Luffy got so excited he phased out of his physical body.

Chopper found out while asking Luffy if he had any medical conditions he should know about, he thought it was kinda cool that Luffy can change forms. And is only a little jealous that Luffy has a fully human form. Luffy always makes sure to tell Chopper he's exactly who he needs to be.

Robin found out after talking about 'Nika,' who is thought to be long dead, but is not. And is the captain of the crew she is now apart of. Luffy knows the name is important and it has a certain weight when it's said. He physically feels when someone says his name around him. Robin thinks this is very fascinating. (Also can add some context into poneglyphs, that there is a lot to it, even if Robin doesn't yet know and Luffy wasn't alive/doesn't have that knowledge)

Franky was showing off cool shit he could do with his robotic body, and Luffy was like 'me too!!!'

Brook found out when Luffy fell asleep listening to him play a song, and Luffy slipped back into his resting form of cloudiness.

While both forms have their uses and limitations, Luffy is most comfortable in his intangible form, even if his physical one is the default. He cannot access his divine form after a certain point of exhaustion hits.

Im going to end that there before I have an entire novel in this. But that's the general thought throw up I'm smacking down right now.

Sorry if this is incoherent and not easy to understand lol. I will flesh it out more later and when I have actually thought more about it. Might change things later too. Then I'll probably make a good post about it with actual wellish made context and lore.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #one piece luffy #op koby #cobylu #kobylu #my art #god au #I HAD THIS WHOLE THING WRITTEN OUT AND DONE AND I DELETED IT LMAO??? I WANNA CRY #ENJOY MY INCOHERENT SCREAMING YALL #LOVE YALL LOTS HOPE YOUR HAVING A GOOD DAY

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 7 months

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Your Mihawk has me weak on my knees so I wanted to request something for him.

S/O has scars on her body, mainly on arms. She does fight but some of them look… too precise. One time after she loses a fight she is really pissed and nervous, she goes to a place alone. There he sees her just giving herself a scar with a knife on her arm. Turns out she was taught scars are signs of losses and if she doesn't get one in battle then afterwards she needs to do it herself. That's why she's so determined to always win. She hates scars.

@patisilence tagging since I'm not sure if you'll get this since I had to save it as a draft to format everything right.

Anyway.

I DID IT I ACTUALLY FINISHED IT

I'M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG 😭😭

And I honestly really really want to thank you. This is my first ever fic-request, for one.

And also, writing this has been an absolute emotional rollercoaster. I have kind of a personal history with self-harm and I wanted to depict it as realistically as possible. Which resulted in heavy focus on character development, which resulted in this practically turning into a novella. I'm going to split it up into a few chapters to streamline things and link them all in this post.

If I do it right, then the entire thing should already be posted when I post this, but I'm still pretty new to Tumblr so bear with me. Each chapter should be between 3k-4k words.

And ALSO ALSO I've been planning a longer Mihawk X OC fic, and I really hope you don't mind me using this concept for it? Because it honestly ties a lot of things together for me

Soooooo without further ado, here's the whole author note thing.

Your Scars Are Mine

Ch. 1

LA! Mihawk X AFAB!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Mentions of Violence, I guess that's it, I'm bad at this

⚠️ MASSIVE ASS TRIGGER WARNINGS⚠️ : Self-harm, Blood, Implied PTSD

Summary: In the few months that he has known you, Mihawk has noticed the scars on your arm. You've refused to talk about them and skirted around the subject successfully, but a trip to Shells Town throws everything out into the open in a way that neither of you were prepared for.

Ch. 2

Ch.3

You were hiding something.

In the few months that Mihawk had known you, he had come to learn a fair bit about you. He knew, for instance, that you had over the past few years made something of a name for yourself as a sword for hire, typically among pirate crews who required a more discreet touch.

That this reputation of yours had led the Buggy Pirates to hire you to assist in stealing a map of the Grand Line from a Marine base in Shells Town. You had failed to procure the map before it was stolen by other hands, leaving you in their debt. Buggy had sunk your sloop to prevent your escape, and you had gotten stuck working for the ridiculous crew for a brief time, remained stuck with them until the Strawhat upstarts offered you passage with them.

Mihawk knew you had traveled with them as far as Baratie, where you had crossed his own path for the first time at the bar on the ship's deck. Where you had approached him with a bargain—if he left Roronoa Zoro alive after their duel the following morning, you would serve him for a year, an errand girl to send off on whatever menial tasks the World Government assigned him.

"And why would I want a little bird flitting around after me around for an entire year?" Mihawk had asked coolly.

And yet you had made a fair point—acting as a government lapdog was growing old. He had been sent after the vice admiral's grandson, for heavens' sake, as if he had nothing better to do with his time than to handle the old fool's family disputes.

Though the surly pirate warlord wouldn't have dared to dream of admitting it at the time, you had his attention. Your offer of unquestioned devotion, your confident demeanor as you sipped a glass of whiskey and kept your eyes on his without showing an ounce of fear or intimidation. You were certainly an interesting diversion from the otherwise dull task that had been laid before him, and your certainty that he would accept your offer had irritated and intrigued him in near equal measure.

It was intrigue that won out in the end. He had left his challenger clinging to the edge of life and taken you with him on his departure. You stayed toe to toe with him in wit and banter, and that alone would have been more than enough to draw him closer to your charm. He had wanted you before two weeks were out, wanted to claim you as far more than his "errand girl," and it was easy to see from the way you effortlessly returned his subtle flirtations that you wanted the same.

And now you were lying back across his broad chest in the hammock aboard your new sloop, a book open over your chest and his hand resting over your stomach, his other tucked under his neck as he frowned thoughtfully up at the roof of the small ship's cabin, pondering over the whirlwind of events that had led up to this moment.

It had been just over two months since the pirate lord had taken you as his lover, and you had been an open book about most things. Your training under your grandmother. Your setting out on your own from a small island village to find your parents, or some clue of their disappearance. The many and varied pirate crews you had served as a hired hand.

Yet you refused to discuss your scars.

Any seafarer with a history as sordid as your own had their share of battle scars. Mihawk had a fair few of his own; one didn't become the most renowned swordsman in the world without a few losses, after all. Yet your voice turned to clear contempt when yours were mentioned, even in passing, and you tensed like a statue when his hands brushed over them. You were confident to the point of near arrogance, yet you clearly held nothing but shame and contempt for the many marks that marred your delicate skin.

Some of which appeared oddly...uniform, for having been gained in battle.

It was in part—in great measure, honestly—the mystery of you that had drawn him in to begin with, and this was just another mystery that Mihawk intended to unravel.

You closed your book abruptly, stirring him from his thoughts as he glanced down at you. He watched you gaze thoughtfully toward the ceiling for a long moment, your hand resting over his at your stomach, before you finally spoke up.

"Reading a book is just staring at a dead tree and vividly hallucinating."

You tilted your head back, grinning as his mouth turned down in a frown and his brow furrowed at your ridiculous statement. Mihawk sighed wearily, plucking the book from your hands and lightly rapping you over the forehead with it.

"No," he scolded, as you giggled softly. He sighed heavily again, dropping the book over the back of the hammock before pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Are you trying to give me a stroke?"

"No," you said, imitating his scolding tone. You stretched your arms out over your head, arching your back for a moment, before rolling over to lay across his chest and brush your lips to his. "But it's fun seeing the look on your face."

"You irritate my very soul, little one," he said, shaking his head as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"And I enjoy every second of it," you countered, grinning as you laid your forehead against his.

"I can tell."

Your grin managed to draw a small smile from him, before he lifted a hand into your hair and pulled you down into a slow, deep kiss. Your fingertips came to rest at his broad shoulders, the hammock swaying slowly in the steady ocean waves carrying the ship along. He knew as well as you did that he wasn't honestly irritated—your strange sense of humor had grown on him, as starkly as it contrasted to his dry sarcasm, and he rarely had the pleasure of meeting anyone as adept at keeping up with his own banter.

You lay your cheek at his shoulder when your lips parted, your eyes slipping shut and your contented sigh tickling against his neck.

"If the wind holds steady it will be a few hours before we make port," you said, your voice low and soft. "I suggest we don't move from here in the meantime."

"I'm not sure I've ever heard a finer suggestion."

Mihawk pulled one of your hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles. He pulled his hat down over his eyes to block out the sun pouring through the windows of the small cabin, tucked his hand back behind his neck again, and shifted beneath you to get comfortable as he closed his eyes. His arm remained curled around your waist, his hand slipping just beneath the hem of your shirt so his thumb could rub slow circles over your soft skin as you both drifted off toward the peaceful recess of sleep.

The first thing that struck Mihawk when he woke was that you weren't in his arms.

Every day and night for nearly two months, he had fallen asleep and woken with you against him, and the absence of your warmth jarred him instantly awake and aware. His eyes scanned around his surroundings as he sat up, taking in where he was—the small cabin of the sloop he had recently bought you as a replacement for the one Buggy's crew had sunk.

His sharp yellow eyes darted toward the door, taking in the sound of unfamiliar, muffled voices outside the cabin.

He was standing in an instant, straightening his hat and pulling Yoru onto his back as he slipped silently through the door and onto the small deck of the sloop.

There was another sloop tethered to yours.

A pair of no-name pirates holding you against the bow ny your arms, their captain pressing the barrel of his pistol to your forehead as they bickered.

"There has to be something on board."

"We could just take her. Looks like she's probably a feisty little thing."

"Still have to check the cabins. Could be—"

Mihawk cleared his throat.

The trio turned their heads in almost comedic synchrony, their jaws dropping at the mere sight of him leaning against the door of the cabin. Mihawk's eyes flickered from them to you, and you averted your eyes, clearly ashamed to be seen in such a compromising situation.

So he shifted his gaze back to the opposing pirates, his eyes flickering between each of them.

"You will remove your hands from the girl or I will gladly remove them for you," he said levelly, lifting his eyebrows.

They quickly let go of your arms, and stepped away when he moved forward to wrap a hand around your wrist and pull you to him. He curled his arm around your waist, lowering his head over yours for a moment and murmuring quietly, "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head no quickly, your jaw set at a rigid angle as you turned your gaze down to your feet, your shoulders tense. He pressed a light kiss to your temple for a long moment before lifting his gaze back to the trio that had dared board your ship, his eyes narrowing in an unspoken threat.

"Go." They remained frozen, glancing between each other. "Now."

They scrambled back over to their ship immediately, severing the ropes that were tethering it to yours. Mihawk kept his arm around you, but his eyes remained trained onto the opposing sloop as it drifted away on the wind, debating on just drawing his sword and splitting it in half on the spot.

He turned his attention back down to you when you began to pull away from him. He pulled you in close again, frowning. It wasn't at all like you to be bested by a few no-names, and it was clear that you weren't taking it very well.

"Tell me what happened," he said finally.

"I woke up," you said curtly. "Thought I'd check the charts and see how far we were from Shells Town. They were already on the deck. Seemed to think this was a small merchant vessel since there's no flag. I'd left my knives in the cabin and I was still half asleep when I came out here. By the time I registered what was going on, one of them had a pistol to my head."

You really weren't making a very good case for him to not sink their boat. He cut his eyes briefly toward the sloop before looking back down at you, your face shadowed by your hair as you stared down at the deck floor.

"Their captain started questioning me about cargo," you continued. "Told them there wasn't anything valuable on board. They were discussing taking me as compensation." You sighed heavily. "And that's when you chose to enter stage left and take approximately twenty years off the end of their lives."

He rolled his eyes the slightest bit at your quip. "I would have taken a great deal more than that had they hurt you."

"Well, they didn't," you replied, your voice still curt. Mihawk lifted an eyebrow. "And it's perhaps best not to go splitting any boats in half a stone's throw away from a naval base," you added, nodding back toward the bow of the vessel.

Mihawk gave a quick glance as well. He had been too focused on the fiasco he had just awoken to to notice that Shells Town was visible on the horizon now. It wasn't as if the Marines could do much about it if he did sink the sloop, but you were right—it would still be more of a hassle than it was worth. He sighed, shaking his head a little, and curled a hand under your chin to lift your gaze to his. You still kept your eyes averted, your jaw set. He hadn't seen you lose a fight before—apart from sparring with him while training, but that hardly counted.

You had proven to be quite the fighter when he had decided to test you. You were nowhere near his equal, but you knew precisely how to play to your strengths with your pair of daggers and your throwing knives. Your stature made you difficult to target even in single combat, your movements a graceful dance that toed the line between evasion and power.

Yet one loss—and a rather inconsequential loss, at that—and you were beating yourself up over it quite a great deal more than what constituted normalcy. Mihawk wasn't sure whether to scold you for being dramatic or attempt to comfort you.

"You were caught off guard, little one," he said after a long moment, brushing a thumb across your cheek. "There's no need to be so upset over that."

"I'm not upset, I'm annoyed," you retorted, pursing your lips a little. "Blades or no, I should have been able to take care of those idiots."

"Annoyed, then," he allowed with a small sigh. "And I've no doubt you would have had I not woke. I was simply able to handle it a bit more...subtly."

"Oh, yes, because sauntering out onto the deck with a giant sword and threatening to cut off their hands was so subtle," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you finally rolled your eyes over to his, lifting your eyebrows.

"Don't be a brat," he chided lightly. "We still have at least half an hour before we make port." Mihawk abruptly wrapped his hand around your chin and pressed his lips to yours in a brief, deep kiss that made you draw in a sharp breath. He parted just as you started to lean into it, resting his forehead against yours. He lowered his voice to an intimate murmur. "I would truly hate to have to spend it punishing you, my little bird."

You quirked an eyebrow, your lips curving in a small, coy smirk. "No you wouldn't."

He gave you a thoughtful frown and a small shrug of his shoulder. "Perhaps not." You let out a small cry of alarm when he stooped down and quickly scooped you up from the deck floor, one arm beneath your knees and his other curled around your back. "I suppose we'll just have to find out."

You chuckled lightly as he carried you to the door of the main cabin, plucking his hat off of his head and placing it on your own as you brushed your lips to his in a soft, teasing manner. Mihawk lifted his eyebrows when you nipped lightly at his bottom lip.

"You're really pushing your luck, my dear," he cautioned.

He lowered you down to the double bed in the cabin, his thumb rubbing small circles at the back of your neck. You lifted yourself onto your elbows, your lips nearly brushing his before he pulled back just far enough to stop you, lightly gripping your hair at the nape of your neck to keep you from sitting up any higher. You gave a small whine of protest, but didn't try to struggle against his grip—you and he both knew there was no point.

"Lie down." His voice remained low and intimate, but there was a subtle command in his tone, in the way his gaze burned into your own. You bit your bottom lip lightly, lowering yourself back down onto the bed fully. A soft, quivering sigh left your lips as he slowly began slipping the buttons down the front of your shirt loose. "Hands over your head. And you don't move them an inch until I tell you you can."

"Mmm..." You hummed thoughtfully, and Mihawk paused in unbuttoning your shirt as you lifted your arms from the bed, holding your hands high above you, straight up in the air. "I think my arms might end up getting tired."

Your lips pursed a little, clearly struggling to keep a straight face, and he lifted an eyebrow at you. "You're certainly in rare form today."

Mihawk wrapped his hand around both of your wrists, shoving your hands down into the plush white comforter over your head, and a couple giggles escaped you before you bit your lip again. It was honestly a bit endearing, how cheeky you were being—and all the moreso, as it appeared you were being so brazen just so he could have his fun with your punishment.

You were enticing him more and more every passing day, beyond the physical desire that had led him to claim you as his a couple months ago. It wasn't a feeling he was particularly accustomed to, nor was he quite sure what to make of it yet. He knew only that when he had seen you held captive against the bow of the boat, an emotion had flashed through him for a moment that he hadn't experienced in years.

For the briefest moment, Dracule Mihawk had felt fear.

He was not ready to contend with the connotations of that.

And he was a bit too busy at the moment, anyway. He let his forehead touch yours, his lips hovering a breath away from your own.

"You don't move your hands," he repeated, tilting his head to just barely graze his lips against your neck, drawing a small moan from your lips, "until I give you permission. Understood?"

"Yes, sir..." you sighed softly, your eyes slipping shut as he kissed down your collarbone, pushing your shirt open. His hand released your wrists and trailed down your arms, down to knead at the soft tissue of your breast through the sheer lace of your bra, feeling your nipple harden against his palm. He tugged the cups down, just a bit too hard given he felt one of them tear in his grasp, but that was a problem for later, not now.

You gasped out when he briefly pulled one of your stiff nipples into his mouth, his grip tightening slightly around your ribcage as you arched your chest toward his swirling tongue. His gaze flicked up to watch you writhe and shudder under his touch, your fingers digging into the bedsheets behind you, your hands searching for anything to keep occupied with.

"Very good," he praised, lifting a hand to brush a few strands of hair out of your eyes and brushing his lips to your jaw. "You see?" He wrapped his hand around your jaw and lightly pressed his lips to yours. "It's much better when you're a good little bird, isn't it?"

"This—doesn't feel much like a punishment," you commented, gasping softly as he circled the pad of his thumb around your nipple, lightly skimming across it once or twice.

"Yet," he corrected.

And gave you a small, devilish smirk, before lowering his head and biting down on the tender skin at the crook of your neck. Just hard enough to leave behind a small bruise, to draw a sharp cry from your lips and send a shiver through your body.

He straightened out as you heaved a sigh, standing over you. Your eyes remained glued to him while he shrugged away his long coat and tossed it back into a chair behind him, noting how your hands tightened down on the bedsheets again.

"Remember we still have a half an hour before we reach Shells Town." His fingertips curled around the waist of your shorts, the lace of your panties beneath them, and slowly inched them down your hips. "I could spend the entirety of it teasing you." Mihawk noted the movement in your throat as you swallowed in nervous anticipation, your eyes glued to his as he pulled them up the length of your legs and off, flinging them aside. "Making you beg for release but never allowing you the satisfaction."

How beautiful it was that it only took a few words to pull a blush to your cheeks and make your breath hitch. He brushed a light kiss to your calf and pushed your legs apart, rubbing his palms up your inner thighs.

"You're going to have to be on your best behavior if you want more, my sweet little bird." Trailing a single finger up your soft folds, dragging through your slick arousal and across your clit, pulling a small whimper from your lips. "Or would you rather I just torment you?"

You bit your lip, shaking your head quickly, your eyes flickering between his eyes and his fingertips trailing up. It was a struggle for him not to chuckle at you—always just cheeky enough to be amusing, but you knew the pleasure he could give you, were so desperate for it that you folded like a cheap deck of cards under his slightest touch.

Absolutely perfect.

Mihawk moved his hands up from your thighs, curling an arm under your back to lift you up and shift you further back on the bed. Your breathing was ragged with anticipation as he brushed his lips to your stomach, trailing his hands back down to your hips, his lips lower and lower, grazing slowly across the soft skin between your hip bones.

Shifting lower and dragging his tongue slowly up your slit, circling the sensitive bud at the apex, giving a quiet growl of approval as your breathy, shuddering moans filled the small cabin and your hips arched in his hands.

His gaze turned up toward your face, watching you draw closer to falling apart with every passing moment. This was only the beginning, and he still hadn't decided if he was going to give you what you wanted...but the sight of your divine, nearly naked and writhing under his touch with his hat still resting on your head made him just a little weak.

He moved from between your legs before he could get lost in the sight of you and the sweet sounds of your moans, reveling in the agonized whimper that left you as he trailed his mouth back up your stomach.

Across to your ribs, pausing at your breasts to brush his lips and his skilled tongue across your sensitive nipples.

Dragging his tongue up the column of your throat, seizing a fistful of your hair and crushing his lips to yours in a deep, possessive kiss, shoving your hip down onto the mattress to keep you from grinding against him, shifting his hand between your thighs to circle a finger around your tight entrance without pushing in. Your low moans and whines of protest were like music to his ears, your knuckles gone white from the force with which you gripped at the sheets over your head to keep your hands from wandering.

Every slow pass up and down your body brought you closer to the peak of pleasure but never quite there—and brought him closer and closer to caving in and giving it to you. He had to wonder whether you had any idea just how much of a temptation you were to him. It had been years since the pirate lord had allowed any woman to affect him quite as strongly as you had.

How much time had passed couldn't be ascertained for sure when he reached his breaking point—his mouth pressed into the crook of your neck while you moaned and begged desperately in his ear, one of his hands squeezing your breast hard enough to bruise the soft flesh while his other worked his belt buckle open and shoved his pants down his hips in a desperation that rivaled yours.

He shoved your open shirt up your shoulders and arms and flung it away; gripped one of your thighs, pushing your leg up as high as it would go, and the low growl that left his throat as he thrust into you was drowned out by your own cries of abandon. Your hips arched up from the bed to meet his, one of your arms flinging around his neck and your hooking beneath his arm to grip hard at his shoulder.

"I don't recall giving you permission to move," he breathed into your neck. He gritted his teeth as he pushed his hips forward hard, shoving yours back down into the bed as you cried out again, your slick walls tightening around his cock.

"I—I'm sorry, I can't—I can't—please—" You gasped, your head falling back as he moved in you in deep, hard thrusts, your fingernails dragging down his back. "Oh God, please—"

He lifted a hand to grasp at your hair as he crushed his lips to yours, delving his tongue into your mouth and drawing in a deep breath as you moaned desperately into the fierce kiss. The prospect of punishing you, of what the hell he had even been punishing you for was forgotten in this rush of unquenchable lust and desire, of pure carnal need for your body.

He normally hated losing control, but this was on another level entirely. There was no room to hate this, no room for anything but pure pleasure, for getting lost inside you as your walls tightened around his cock, as every muscle in his groin tensed and tightened in anticipation of impending release—

Your lips breaking away from his, your cry of abandon as your climax swept over you pulled him right over the edge with you. He pulled your hip up from the bed to slam into you as he came, gritting his teeth against a low groan, the rhythmic contractions of your tight channel milking him dry. His hips jerked toward yours with each intense wave of pleasure, fingers tangling in your hair as he pressed his lips to your neck, the two of you shuddering and tangled together over the bedsheets.

Mihawk heaved a shuddering sigh into the crook of your neck, his fingers tangled in your hair as he brushed his thumb across your temple. Maybe it was the lingering euphoria, but he didn't even think about the next words that left his mouth before he heard them himself.

"God dammit, (Y/N), I love you."

But it was impossible to deny any longer. You really were everything he had never realized he craved. No, it wasn't just the euphoria in the moment—it was that brief flash of fear earlier at the thought of you being hurt, at the thought of losing you. The utter fury at the morons who had briefly held you captive. How perfectly you balanced and complemented his desires.

He felt as much as heard you draw in a small gasp beneath him. "Y—you—wh—?"

"You heard me," Mihawk interrupted your quiet, almost cautious stammering, murmuring against your neck. He brushed his lips against one of the small, round bruises he had left on the soft skin, and said it again, quietly, "I love you."

You were quiet for a long moment, but he wasn't concerned, still trailing kisses up the side of your neck. He had seen it in your eyes before now, heard it in the softness of your voice when you lay against him, your fingers in his hair and your lips brushing his.

Several seconds passed, before you turned your head slowly and pressed your lips to his, tentatively at first, and then deepening the slow kiss with a soft sigh. He shifted onto his side, tugging you to him by your hip. Your forehead came to rest against his as your lips drifted apart, still barely a breath away, your eyes closed, your voice a quiet whisper.

"I...love you."

(Ch. 2)

#opla #one piece fanfiction #dracule mihawk #fanfic #mihawk one piece #mihawk opla #fluff #mihawk x reader #smut

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 4 months

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Naughty or Nice

Request: So the first one would be jack has been spoiling the girls a little to much which comes with a little bratty attitudes from them they come to an agreement that this Christmas the girls are gonna get Cole Santa left them Cole because they were behaving badly through out the year and jack a few days before Christmas he tells the girl about the Cole and how Santa’s brings it to kids who aren’t nice and been naughty

Warnings: none

"Jackman." Jack groaned at the sound of your voice because you only used his government name when you were pissed with him. He thought about hiding under the desk in his office, but you found him before he could take any moves. "Yes, baby?" He made his voice extra sweet, an attempt to diffuse the situation. Your face let him know it wasn't worth the effort.

"Did you buy the girls more shoes?" You held up a pair of brand new New Balances that you found in Brooklyn's closet. "Yeah, she needed a pair to match the new track suit that I bought her." You narrowed your eyes at him, making him cower. "You bought her more clothes, too?", you asked through gritted teeth.

"What? Its just clothes and shoes. They're always gonna need those." Jack really didn't see the problem, but you knew that when it came to his daughters he was the biggest pushover. He would spend every last dollar on them if he could, and while you thought it was incredibly sweet that he loved to spoil his girls as much as he did you, it had gotten a little bit out of control.

"Baby, its not just clothes and shoes though. It's the iPads and the toys and the trips. You are spoiling them rotten." The girls only knew the good life because they grew up with rich parents, and you didn't want that to overshadow the values that you and Jack worked so hard to instill in them. "They are six and three years old, we really need to tone down the spending, okay?"

Jack stood up from his desk, and walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you close. "Okay, I promise." He tried to kiss you but you backed away. "You promise what?"

Jack rolled his eyes with a chuckle. "I promise to tone it down with the spending." You patted his chest. "Thank you." You finally gave him the kiss he'd been waiting for. "Christmas is in a couple days, and the girls already have enough presents underneath the tree for five Christmases. They don't need anything else."

Jack sucked in his teeth with a wince. "Jack, you didn't."

"I just have a couple more things that I ordered arriving tomorrow. I promise, after that, no more spending." He nodded to reassure you, but you knew he was lying through his teeth.

"Jack, no more spending money on the girls. Whatever you ordered needs to go back." You handed him the pair of shoes before going back to cleaning the house.

****

That night at dinner, Brooklyn hardly touched her food as she told you both about her day.

"And then, Dani, a girl in my class, she said that her daddy is getting her a car for Christmas. Its gonna be a Barbie car." She could hardly sit still she was so excited describing all the features of the battery powered car.

You walked over to the dining room table with a side of mash potatoes, placing them down on the table and helping yourself to a serving. You caught her starting to stand in her chair. "Brookie, please sit on your bottom." She did as you said, not even breaking her sentence. "Daddy, do you think Santa could bring me a car for Christmas?"

"I thought you wanted a Barbie Dream House, Brookie?" Jack had taken the girls to see the Barbie movie, even though they were a little young to see it, and Brooklyn wouldn't stop talking about how much she wanted a new Barbie playhouse.

"I do", she nodded, "but I also want a Barbie car." She turned her attention back to Jack. "Daddy, can you ask Santa to get me the car too?" Jack avoided eye contact, knowing if he looked at Brooklyn's big brown eyes, he was going to place the order tonight. "I don't know, baby. Its so close to Christmas and you already sent your letter off to Santa. We'll see." He glanced at you, catching the small smile on your face, knowing how hard this was for him.

"That's not fair, though!" She crossed her little arms over her chest in a pout. "I'm gonna be the only one without the car!" You could see the waterworks were about to start, Jack's greatest weakness. He flexed his jaw, working overtime not to give in. You intervened before it got out of control. "Brooklyn, that's enough. Daddy said we would see."

That just set her off, tears beginning to stream down her face. "I thought you loved me, Daddy!" She ran off to her room, you and Jack quiet as you heard her bedroom door slam. "Jack, no." You stopped him just as he started to get up to follow behind her.

"I'm just gonna buy the car. Its not a big deal, and I don't want her to be upset on Christmas." Jack pulled out his phone to place the order. "Jack, she is playing you. She knows how weak you are. She knows all the right buttons to push to get what she wants." Jack scoffed. "I am not weak."

"Oh really? She mentioned this car for the first time today, and you're already ordering it, babe." Jack sighed, raking a hand through the curls at the front of his face. "She's six? Where did she learn this?"

"You forgot who her mother is", you remarked with a cocky smile.

****

That night, you and Jack decided that Brooklyn needed a reality check to help her understand just how fortunate she was. She was still young and had a lot of growing to do, but she was also very smart, and you thought it was an insult to her intelligence to not push her to behave better. Jack had a creative idea to hopefully get her to be more grateful for her life, and help the Louisville community at the same time.

Brooklyn woke you up at the crack of dawn, jumping on your bed and waiving a letter in the air. "I got a letter from Santa!", she exclaimed, excitedly opening the envelope "It was under my door when I woke up!" Jack tried his best to hide his smirk from Brooklyn, tucking his chin underneath the comforter. "Oh really? What does it say?"

Dear Brooklyn,

Your mom and dad told me that you have been asking for a lot of very nice presents this year, but you haven't always been on your best behavior. I am working to bring you all the toys that you ask for, but I need you to promise that you will work on being nice to your parents and your little sister.

There are so many little boys and girls around the world that I have to get to on Christmas Eve, so I would love it if you would help give them a wonderful Christmas by helping your Dad, the greatest rapper alive in my humble opinion, give presents out to the kids of Louisville.

Its important that we work on being thankful for the things we have, because not everyone is so lucky.

Love, Santa

"Daddy, I have to help you pass out presents for Santa!"

Jack chuckled, "Okay, baby. We'll go to the Neighborhood House this afternoon." She jumped off the bed before you could tell her to be careful, and ran to her room to get ready. You read over the letter again, smiling to yourself. "Good job babe." You patted Jack's chest. "Santa has questionable music tastes, but other than that, I think this will really give Brooklyn some good perspective.

Jack got up and walked to the bathroom. "I didn't write that letter, babe. That came straight from Santa, and he said that wives that are mean to their husbands also don't get Christmas presents. Especially a certain Bottega bag they've had their eye on." He let out a sputter of laughter when your face dropped.

"Jack, did you get me that bag I've been dreaming about?" You were quick out of the bed, peppering his face with kisses. "We'll have to see." He shrugged with a chuckle.

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#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jackman harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow fanfic

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possessionisamyth · 5 months

Text

Since the most popular posts are being extremely useless and defeatist when it comes to the presidential election, I'm reminding you of the democratic primary. If you absolutely do not want to vote for Biden, here are your other options, and you have to VOTE and SHOW UP for your state primary to push them forward.

Marianne Williamson is running for the Dem Primary. Here is her site leading to her stances on current issues.

https://marianne2024.com/issues/

Dean Phillips is also running for the Dem Primary. Below is his website. Click on the Priorities tab on the right to see his stances on the issues.

https://phillips.house.gov/

Robert F Kennedy Jr. is running as an Independent. Click on the Policies tab on the upper left to see his stance on the issues.

https://www.kennedy24.com/

Cornel West is running as an Independent. Click on the Platform tab on the upper right to get his stance on the issues.

https://www.cornelwest2024.com/

Here is the schedule for the primary by state for 2024 so you know when to hit the ballot box.

https://www.uspresidentialelectionnews.com/2024-primary-schedule/

The US Government has always been a shit show. Due to Biden winning 1 election already, everyone who has already secured their democratic seat will be pushing for him to win a second term. That's what being incumbent means. The primaries will look like how they did when Bernie was running against him. The news will not be on any of these people's sides, and they will be showing as little of them as possible to ensure a Biden win.

If you are a USA citizen of voting age and all you've been doing is reblogging/making posts about how no one should vote for Joe, maybe take the next step and READ up on the other options. If you actually don't want Joe or Trump to win this next election, you need to pick a candidate from these links to hype up. You have to start being their voices in places where people don't watch the televised news. You can even volunteer your time to do phone calls for them to spread the information.

If your entire blog is only never vote, or never vote for Joe, then yes you are not helping the problem. You are making things worse when we literally have time to try for another option. Be angry. Be pissed, but do some footwork for people you want in office in addition! This is actually how you shift things and send a message.

#us politics #2024 presidential race

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perpetual-fandom-brainrot · 5 months

Text

Temporary Relocation Prologue/Ch. 1

This fic is based on this drabble Basic premise: Reader got an experimental surgery and is being relocated to a military base with more specialized medical supplies to help recovery while on medical leave, and will temporarily help with missions to ensure success after.

It was some kind of new experimental technology. You were one of only a few hundred who had the privilege of getting the opportunity. When they'd called, you'd needed to request for the information to be mailed because there was so much of it. "Instinctual Prosthetics" was what they had decided to name the project. It was supposed to help military combatants, granting an animalistic advantage of some kind on the battlefield. They would synthesize physical attributes of the target animal, you couldn't wrap your head around how, and intertwine the prosthetics and artificial nerves with your body's existing nervous system. Most info beyond that was disclosed to you as "need-to-know," which told you literally nothing you felt you needed to know.

Nonetheless, you were too intrigued- and too attached to the payout you'd get for using yourself as an experiment vessel- to say no. That was how you ended up on a helicopter with a man who'd introduced himself to you as Captain John Price, with your newfound cat ears and tail still extremely sensitive to everything around them. Every time the aircraft jostled, you found yourself flinching, and every time the noise changed you wished you could press your ears to your head to make it stop. If only it wasn't too dangerous to take off those headphones, which had been specially made for you. You didn't even want to think about what the violent whirs of the overhead blades would sound like without the protection they gave.

"Touchdown in five," the pilot called back to the two of you. You barely registered it until you heard Captain Price giving a comment saying the pilot's communication went over. "This team won't be anything like what you're used to, soldier. Much more specialized, much better materials to handle your... unique recovery circumstances." The captain's explanation didn't do much to ease your nerves, but you found yourself nodding as though it did. As though it held any clues of what you'd see on Task Force 141's base. "The rest of the force should be meeting us when we land," he continued. "I expect you'll get acquainted with them over your time here." The words gained another absent nod from you. Until the heli touched down, you found your brain wandering to how this all happened in the first place.

"It's an experimental procedure," the woman over the phone explained. You could hear pages flipping in the background of her mic, "we're only offering it to a few hundred soldiers to see how it takes. There's a wide range of people who chose to go in already." Her explanation only served as further confusion.

"I... I still don't understand," you mumbled before taking a sip of your coffee, "why was I selected?" The line was tense with silence for what you wish was a small beat, before the woman sighed.

"I only know what I'm telling you, and I'm only allowed to tell you what I know." Her gentle tone was meant to be reassuring, but right then it was just pissing you off. You were going to potentially lose critical brain functions if this went wrong, and it was still on a need-to-know? Fucking government. "There is one upside, though," she spoke tentatively now, "since this is a voluntary experiment, they're offering you compensation."

"Compensation?" The word echoed off of your tongue almost as if it was alien. "I'm sorry, I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around all of this."

"I have permission to make exactly one hard copy of this information and mail it to you. Would you like me to file the request for it?"

"Yes, please."

It hadn't felt like too long since that phone call. It probably hadn't been, if you were willing to compare hours to seconds. It had only been a few weeks since you were wheeled out of the surgery room, informed of the expected enhancements with your balance and hearing, and then immediately told about the orders for your relocation. You'd be temporarily occupying the base of a specialized and extremely classified task force, one you were sure your own generals themselves had never heard of. A few weeks since that tail was surgically implanted at the back of your spine and connected to your main nerve pathways, a few weeks since the nurses and doctors taking care of you started looking at you funny when you covered your ears from things they couldn't hear.

The harsh jostle of the helicopter landing, and the ensuing pins and needles from your still sore tail, broke you out of your trance. You took a deep breath as you stood up and removed the headphones, flinching at the more detailed sounds you knew no one else could hear, and looked up to see Captain Price awaiting your company to exit the aircraft.

"Are you ready?" He asks.

Not at all, you think, but give a verbal, "affirmative, Captain." Price doesn't walk off of the helicopter until he sees you next to him, where a small group of men wait, presumably for the two of you, in a semicircle. "So... this is the team?" You ask quietly, awkwardly, before they've noticed you. Price chuckles to himself before calling out to the group.

"Soldiers," his voice carries over the now fading whirs of the helicopter, "meet our new temporary recruit. After the medical recovery period ends, you'll all be working together out on the field. I expect you all to make good use of the remaining leave time." Nobody had to ask to know what Price meant. You'd all be stopping bullets and bombs for each other soon enough, probably too soon. He wanted a team that knew how to work together.

"What's with the cat ears?" A rough British accent calls. Your eyes flick to the source, a tall and muscular man wearing a skull mask. Your peripherals catch everyone else's eyes immediately flying to the top of your head while you make brief eye contact with the man. Your breath catches in your throat when you open your mouth to respond.

"This is the experimental procedure you were briefed about," Price stated. "I expect you all to treat this like any other new recruit. If I hear of any issues, you will be dealing with Shepherd." A collective groan came from the group as Price walked towards a gathering of buildings. Who?

"Aye Ghost, don't want them to make you a kitty cat, eh? Ya might end up too cute to fight that way," another man, a Scotsman with striking blue eyes and a mohawk, commented.

"A word, sergeant MacTavish," the Brit barked before walking into a nearby building. The Scot followed him without asking questions. You just watched the two in a daze, not sure what to make of the scene.

"What was that?" The question came from your mouth carefully.

"Don't mind them," another man, the only one left now, spoke up. He had umber skin that looked smooth, not as big of a build as the Brit but you had no doubt just as strong. "The sergeant's probably getting his fair share for talking to the lieutenant like that." As he talked, you noted he's probably better for agility. He took a step towards you and held out his hand, "I'm Kyle Garrick, Gaz on the field."

"Y/n L/n," you took a step to close the gap and firmly shook his hand. "Nice to meet you Gaz! Who are the other two? The sergeant and you said the lieutenant?"

Gaz laughed a little, the smile staying as he spoke, "the angry one in the mask, the lieutenant, is Ghost, and the Scot you saw messing with him is my fellow sergeant. His name's Soap. Those two are always at each other's throats. Bet you'll get used to it as you stay here," he took a step back after letting go of your hand. Gaz was still smiling, "and I'm assuming you know Price. There's others, but they're out on assignments if they're not stuck in the medical quarters recovering."

"Well, in that case, mind showing me the medical quarters? I'm due for an initial check-up after my briefing on the team. Pretty sure you just gave that to me."

Gaz turned and waved you on from behind, "follow me!" He called. You jogged to catch up, looking around and taking every detail in while gazing at the structures around you. Brief explanations of barracks, small hangars, different quarters and offices, the main canteen building as you passed it, everything you needed to know about getting around the base and what you need. Eventually, a building just as plain as the rest of them save for a red cross came into view. The medical quarters, you regarded it with internal relief. Your ears and spine were starting to ache again.

You even forgot to thank Gaz as you hurried in, leaving him to laugh to himself. You were definitely something. The base- the force- was going to enjoy having you.

Read the next chapter here

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pixydustworld · 1 year

Text

The marriage law was announced at 2pm on a Tuesday.

By 2:15 Hermione had already drafted a motion to dismiss the law entirely. It was a good motion, too. If she’d sent a copy to Ron, he would’ve replied with: wow! lots of words! good stuff!

At 2:17 her motion was denied.

“It’s best to just accept defeat.” Malfoy said from his side of the office, bookshelves neat, papers all stacked in order. “You won’t win this one.”

“I’m not in the habit of giving up.” Hermione snapped. Her side of the office was cluttered, less pristine. Her bookshelf had a nasty habit of overflowing all over the floor, stacks of books balancing precariously on every surface. “A fire hazard.” Malfoy had sneered at her once, “Breaking several codes.”

“Hm.” Malfoy said, “I hadn’t noticed.” He was smiling softly, like he’d just told the funniest joke in the world. Waiting, almost patiently for her to smile. Stupid man with his stupid grin, Hermione wanted to throw a book at his head.

“This is archaic.” Hermione hissed. “The Ministry has gone too far. They can't force us to marry anyone.”

Even as she spoke, a squirming feeling of doubt was beginning to take root in her chest — being friends with Harry came with many things. Companionship and love, but it also came with a healthy distrust of the government (like a free gift basket! but terrible one).

Malfoy ignored her complaints. "Marriage Acts aren't as mid-evil as you're making them out to be." He said, with that annoying voice he used when he knew he was right about something, "They serve a purpose."

"A purpose?" Hermione could practically feel the beginnings of an aneurysm. A fitting death, slumped over her desk, surrounded by unfinished documents and discovered by Draco Malfoy, "Are you actually defending this?"

She would have to find a new partner. A new office, one where he wasn't constantly surrounding her, swimming on the edge of her peripheral vision. Maybe Dean Thomas would let her set up a current workplace in his records closet, he was always bragging about how it was big enough for him to take naps in during work —

"No." Malfoy said, somehow even more amused now, "I don't support it."

"Oh." Hermione said, very eloquently, "That's good."

"But," Malfoy continued, still distinctly unruffled while Hermione was very ruffled, "Most people will be unfazed. It's a Pure-Blood tradition. My parents have always planned to arrange a marriage contract.” Malfoy shrugged, “It’s not absolutely unheard of.”

“Well," Hermione said, out of breath from all the pacing she was doing, "Your parents are terrible.”

“Of course.” Malfoy said, like it was obvious. “They would never allow me the opportunity to sully the Malfoy name. Producing the correct heir is the only thing I’ll ever be good at.”

Hermione frowned. “Hearing about your family isn’t good for our working relationship. It makes me feel bad for you.”

“We can’t have that.” Malfoy said.

“No,” she agreed with a sigh, “we can’t have that.”

“So, tell me Granger. What is your plan?” His grin became less self indulgent, more fake. “You’ll have to marry someone. It'll undoubtably be the event of the season — have a fiancé you’ve been hiding from me?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Do you think I could hide anything from you?”

Malfoy knew when she changed the scent of her shampoo, when she switched up her coffee order — he even knew if she was sleeping less than usual. It was impossibly annoying to be around someone so observant, someone so intent on cataloguing her every move.

"If I had a secret fiancé, which I don't, I'm confident that you're competent enough to have sniffed him out by now."

Malfoy responding grin was slow and syrupy. "You think I'm competent?"

“Piss off, Malfoy.”

“Is he shorter than me? Is that it? Didn’t want to introduce us because you knew he’d feel bad?”

“You’re taller than everyone.” Hermione said, annoyed, again, “You would obviously be taller than my imaginary fiancé. You’re like an angelic giraffe.”

“You think I’m angelic?”

“No.”

"Two compliments on top of each other, are you feeling alright, Granger?"

"Shut up."

At 2:20, Hermione began to clean her side of the office, desperate for an excuse not to talk to Malfoy.

At 2:22, Harry slammed through her door, completely demolishing the (very little) progress Hermione had made in cleaning up her side of the office.

“I’ll marry you.” Harry said, slightly out of breath, like he’d sprinted all the way to her office, “Do you think we can kiss without making a face? We’ll have to practice.”

“I’m not marrying you.” Hermione said from the floor behind her desk, “You are engaged to Theo.” She was laying on her back with a book covering her face, feeling rightfully sorry for herself.

“Theo won’t mind.” Harry said in the voice he reserved for whenever he wanted people to listen to him (i am harry potter! and i did not spill mustard on the couch! you have to believe me, i saved the world!) “It will be quick. I can get us rings before the day is over.”

"No." Hermione said, still on the floor, "I've gone along with enough of your stupid ideas. This is too much."

Because, despite it all, Harry would do this. Without hesitation, blind loyalty and unwavering determination — Harry would marry her and be pleased with his choices. He was lovely, but at times, Harry could be a misguided idiot.

"This is where you draw the line?" Malfoy hummed, "Interesting to catch a glimpse into the inner workings of your mind."

Finally scrambling to her feet (after a few more seconds of wallowing) Hermione was horrified to find a familiar look on Harry's face — one that promised something stupid.

"I'll figure it out. " Harry said, with a shrug that reminded Hermione of their childhood (occidentally, the stress headache she was feeling also reminded her of their childhood). He pointed a stoic finger at her. "Don't make a face when I kiss you."

Then, he left.

“Theo wouldn’t mind,” Malfoy said in a helpful voice, “He’d probably marry you as well. Would it be Granger-Potter-Nott? Or Granger-Nott-Potter? Better figure that out soon. Potter seems eager to find those rings.”

Hermione threw a book at his head.

Malfoy caught it with ease, his stupid Quidditch hands.

“I have an idea,” Malfoy said after a moment.

Hermione ignored him. “There has to be a way out of this.” She was pacing again, sensible shoes kicked off to the corner (where she’d undoubtedly forget them) “I could write another motion? A longer one this time. With more quotes.”

“Marry me instead.”

Hermione stopped pacing. “Excuse me?”

“I’m your best option.”

“I have many options —

“Weasley already tricked someone into marrying him and Potter is engaged to my only friend.” He frowned, in a mocking sort of way. “Did I leave anyone out?”

“No.” Hermione said flatly. “You didn’t.”

“Alright then. Marry me.”

“Hah.” She said, “Hah. I take back everything I’ve ever said about you. Malfoy, you are funny.”

“I’m being serious.” He said, looking annoyed. Fantastic, they were both annoyed. Like they always were.

“We can get married before the law passes and then you can do what you do best.” Malfoy continued, like that was a totally normal thing to say.

“Which is?” Without her shoes, the height difference was unbearably noticeable. She had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. At some point he'd stopped being a willowy wraith of a person and began the unfortunate process of filling out.

He didn’t look away. “Destroy everyone’s expectations and free the downtrodden.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “What would you get out of this arrangement?”

Malfoy shrugged, too practiced to be nonchalant. “I’d be married to a war hero. It would do wonders for my reputation.”

“And you would be married to me.” Hermione said, beginning to feel like this was getting too real, “We both know that would never happen.”

“Never?”

“Never.” She agreed.

He wasn’t smiling that lazy smile from before, this one was different. Sharper. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Besides,” Hermione continued on loudly, “you’re no gentleman. No need to pretend. I don’t need saving, I’ll figure this out myself.”

“You don’t need to.” Malfoy said, “I will help. I want to fuck over the Ministry for many reasons, but mainly because they declined your motion.”

He was on her side of the office now, leaning casually against her desk, inches away from where she stood. He was too pretty up close, like staring at the sun.

“It was very good.” Hermione breathed.

Malfoy nodded, almost too good at pretending to be sincere.

“I’m sure it was good. You touched it. Everything you touch is golden.”

“You truly want to help me?”

“I’ve only offered several times.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “All to fuck over the Ministry? No other reason?”

“Maybe I want you all to myself.”

Hermione's eye twitched.

"Don't tease me." She managed to hiss. "Not about this."

She saw when he realized, a flicker of excitement in his eyes — when he noticed her apparent misery at how completely and helplessly she was drawn to him.

"I'd never dream of it." Malfoy said warmly, "You could kill me with ease, only an idiot would be careless around you."

She thought of all the long nights they spent together, crammed in their tiny little office. How she looked forward to her day, if only to see his stupidly pointy face. How she tried to date, but couldn’t. Because it wasn’t right — her dates were too kind, too short.

Not him.

How, through everything, he was the first person she thought of in the morning, the person she thought of in the darkness of the night, when no one could see her wandering hands — the person she looked at for a challenge, for relief and support.

Despite her best attempts, Hermione Granger had fallen in love with Draco Malfoy and now, here he was, seeming to share in her suffering.

“We’d have to consummate the marriage.” She said, giving him one last out. “You’d have to see me naked.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive.”

“I’m very bossy,” she said, “and I work all the time.”

“Good thing we share an office.”

“I’m not easy to love.”

Malfoy scoffed. “It’s been easy enough for me.”

He was close enough to touch, so uncharacteristically open. Looking down at her with fondness she didn’t know he possessed.

“I’m selfish.” Malfoy warned, “Do not forget that. I will help you destroy this law and anything else you want. Burn it all down if you want to. But I won’t be letting you go. Not now, after I've gotten you."

“I suppose that’s fine.” Hermione said softly, watching as his hand moved to touch her face, warm against her skin. "It'll be bearable to be around you, I suppose."

As he held her face in his hands, Hermione watched as his grin transform into something different, something new — a smile she'd only seen glimpses of, one only for her. "I'll work very hard to make our marriage a tolerable one." He said.

"Good," Hermione breathed, stretching up to kiss him, to finally press her lips against his, "I can't wait."

Hermione was married at 3pm on a Tuesday.

It was a small ceremony.

Harry, although he'd never publicly admit it, was relieved.

Despite his best attempts, he would've made a face when Hermione had kissed him.

1K notes · View notes

lucid-loves · 3 months

Text

Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 9

Pairing: Ghost x assassin!reader (fem!reader, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 4.7k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to lovers trope, slow burn, fluff, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After Makarov gets away once again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you in each interaction.

Chapter Synopsis: After playing Makarov’s game, you finally have a chance to finish him once and for all. However, in doing so, you end up losing more than you expected.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

Makarov waited patiently as you mentally prepared for your onslaught of lies and half-truths. Blending the two was easier to get away with the lies from a body language standpoint. Makarov was a sharp man. You had to be careful not to give anything away. No avoiding eye contact, no touching hair, nothing that can be a sign of deception. “I want to join your efforts as an assassin. My skill sets are advanced compared to many that you probably already know about. What makes me stand out is that you don’t know me.”

He quirked a brow at your confidence before waving his hand to call over the one he put in charge of his catacombs operation. Apparently, he wanted to test this. “Hand me her file.”

“We have no file to give. She isn’t found in any system. Not the US, not Europe, not anywhere.” The man confessed, feeling anxious over the possibility that this would be seen as incompetence. Luckily, Makarov believed him.

“That is impressive. An assassin that really knows how to keep a secret. Not many people know how to keep a secret nowadays. You seem to be good at keeping them and discovering them. Tell me, how did you discover this one?” He played along, his tone light as if this was all just a game to him.

It made your skin crawl, looking at such wasted potential. Such insanity. An intelligent man tainted by arrogance. His genius had turned into madness, and it unsettled you. You had to fight through your urge to end his life immediately. “I grew interested based on what I saw from the news. I decided that my best chance of getting an interview was by going through the back door instead of the front. Your men in Italy handling your weapons shipment led me right here. Patience and planning.”

“How did you know that you could tail them starting in Italy?” He inquired curiously, eager to learn where the breach in security was so he could fix it.

You shrugged, a shutter running through you that you disguised as nonchalance. “The U.S. government’s hold on classified information is difficult at best, but not impossible. I pulled a lot of information thanks to their incompetence. Fools shouldn’t be in charge of nations.”

“That I can agree with.” Makarov nodded with a sinister smile.

Before he continued, he called over one of his men again to fetch something to eat. “You haven’t given her food or water yet, have you? Right now, this is our guest. Not our prisoner. For now.”

The man nodded and swiftly went away like a servant serving a king. Afterwards, Makarov resumed. “You dislike the U.S. government?”

This was an easy one to get away with since it was actually the truth. You weren’t afraid to hold back on your opinion about this either. “I hate most governments. They always claim to be for the people and provide democracy, but the truth is, they have no idea what they are doing. They have no idea what the people want. Efforts to ‘keep peace’ are no more than just pissing contests for power. Someone more realistic needs to be in charge. Someone willing to make things happen despite the red tape.”

“You believe in direct action?”

“I believe in true progress, regardless of what some people may want.” You corrected, knowing how to twist your words into something Makarov would want to hear and trust.

Through your bobby pin, the 141 was hearing all of this go down. It took every ounce of their effort to not swoop in and get you out of there. They too could sense the madness oozing from Makarov with every word. How he questioned you, trying to figure you out. It was only your expert navigation through conversation that they were able to remain patient.

It didn’t take long for a sandwich to be placed on the table in front of you along with a bottle of water. You eyed the sandwich, stomach rumbling for food after skipping breakfast. However, you knew better than to just eat without caution. You picked apart your sandwich, observing each ingredient carefully with the low light of the lantern. Makarov chuckled. “Paranoid that I would poison you?”

“Only idiots take what’s in front of them without thought. It’s always worth the extra time to be cautious.” You truthfully explained as you sniffed the bread. Finally, you reassembled the meal and pushed it away, refusing to eat.

Half-hearted praise escaped your lips. “Clever trick hiding the poison in the bread. The almond smell blends in nicely with the rest of the nutty notes of the grains on the bread.”

Makarov grinned as you played his game quite well. His praise to you was genuine in contrast to yours. “Clever trick to use your nose too instead of just the eyes. You are the type to use all of your senses. A sign of a truly great assassin.”

The sandwich was whisked away, leaving you only with an unopened bottle of water. However, you opted to not take part in that either. Instead, you carried on with trying to impress one of the most dangerous men in the world. “You have assassins after you, Makarov. Though, they are pretty loud and proud about it. The 141.”

The 141 tensed up as you began to talk about them. This was one of the parts that they were dreading the most. Makarov already knew quite a bit of information about them including names and dates. However, it was your false insight that made them clench their fists. “Simon Riley, John Price, John MacTavish, Kyle Garrick, and Kate Laswell have been hunting you down, but their efforts have failed each time.”

Makarov seemed impressed by your knowledge, choosing to encourage you to speak even more. “It has been amusing and annoying to have them come after me. You sound like you have a solution to this. Is this the part where you offer your services?”

You nodded confidently, finally feeling that you were getting somewhere with the man. “Exactly. I kill off the 141 for you and I get what I want out of it.”

“What is it that you want exactly?”

“I want you to pin the 141 assassination on Urizikstan. At the same time, I want you to kill Farah Karim, but the blame will be on the United States. Have the two countries point fingers at each other.” You elaborated your false story like a spider weaving their web.

Makarov laughed, not expecting such a proposal from you. He found the plan incredibly entertaining and beneficial to him. You fascinated him. “You want war?”

“Nothing resets a country’s priorities like a war. Nothing lets a country’s guard down for attack from other places too. The world needs a reset, starting with one of the biggest global superpowers. When that happens, more suitable leaders will step up.” You explained further, each word coming out of your mouth more exciting than the last to him.

He pictured the United States crumbling to dust from their own undoing. He wanted the 141 to choke on that dust. It seemed that you were one of the most capable people to make this happen. However, he was also cautious about taking things in front of him. First, he needed proof of your suggested loyalty to him.

He gave a bloodcurdling laugh, pulling a knife from his pocket to set on the table. It was brand new, clean. You made no attempt to reach for it, but you did look at its potential. It could be the knife you would stab him with when the time is right. Your fingers almost twitched with how much you wanted to plunge it into his neck. Instead, you left a compliment. “Beautiful knife.”

“A gift if you give me one in return.” Makarov offered, your blood running cold as your mind raced. What was this man thinking? This wasn’t a question exclusive to you either. The men you have come to know over the past few weeks were also racking their brains with what Makarov could mean.

Simon himself was about to go on a rampage. He knew that Makarov would want you. It took Kyle’s hand on his shoulder to hold him back.

Your stomach dropped as you looked at the knife. “House rules. Choose your gift.”

“Truly, a clever girl. You know how to play the game. My gift will be your right eye. Break in that new knife of yours.” Makarov demanded with ease, his men behind him raising their guns in case anything went wrong.

From your pin, you could hear Price shout. “Hex! Abort mission! Don’t you dare give him what he wants!”

“You don’t have to do this, Hex!” Soap yelled at the same time. Everyone was beginning to become loud and unsettled, the energy almost breaking yours.

Kyle couldn’t hold Ghost back anymore, his strength from anger and anxiety too much to contain. All Gaz could do was give a warning. “Captain, Ghost and I are on the move! Hex, you need to get the hell out of there!”

You stared at Makarov, trying to read any sign of a bluff. When you saw none, you sighed in disappointed acceptance. “It’s a good thing I have two of them. Do you have a mirror?”

“Y/n! Don’t you fucking dare!” Ghost threatened, using the name that he just discovered. Oh, how you wished you could hear it from his lips in a better circumstance.

Makarov accepted your request for a mirror, ordering one of his men to fetch anything that could allow you to see your final reflection. After a few minutes, a dull mirror was placed in front of you. Damn, you looked exhausted. However, no fear. If this was the price for saving the world from a madman, for a life outside the cabin, then it was a small price to pay.

Slowly, you picked up the knife, feeling the heavy weight in your hand. Makarov watched you carefully examine it, determining what would be the best angle to get the eye out without damaging it too much. Once you made that determination, you took a deep breath and rushed the blade towards your face.

Your hand stopped at the last second, the tip of the blade dangerously close to your iris. Makarov’s hand stopped yours, seeming to freeze time itself. He clicked his tongue in approval, now looking at you almost adoringly like an obedient pet. “What would an assassin be without both of her eyes? I approve of the dedication. You have earned yourself a job.”

Price and Soap nearly fucking collapsed in relief, their breaths labored from how long they help them. Ghost and Gaz felt the same, their warpath slowing as Makarov allowed you to keep your eye.

Finally, Makarov let go of your hand to allow you to put the blade down. Your heart hammered in your chest from the close call, your throat closing to prevent yourself from throwing up from the sick feeling. You passed the knife back to him. “You may have your gift back then. A gift exchange isn’t fair if only one is receiving.”

With pride, Makarov took it from your hand. “A fair play. What shall I call my new assassin?”

“Hex, we are in close position. Just say the word.” Gaz notified as he peaked around the corner, counting heads. For a massive weapons operation, there didn’t seem like many people here. Then again, the catacombs were huge and dark, no doubt hiding more that were lying in the shadows.

You waited a beat before getting up, walking around the table, and stretching out your hand for a business-like handshake. “Hex.”

“A curse.” He took your hand, his grip so firm that it almost hurt your fingers.

“Precisely. It will be a pleasure doing business with you.” You politely nodded and shook on it.

Finally, you had him in your grasp to execute. With a harsh snap and a pull, Makarov’s wrist broke with ease. You twisted him to face forward, his back pressed against your front which stopped the men from taking fire. They could never possibly hurt their king. You felt the knife you gave back to Makarov go into your side, just narrowly missing vital organs. Or so you believed. There was too much adrenaline running through you to feel the pain.

“Now!” You called out, signaling for Ghost and Gaz to rain bullets. Gunfire echoed down the corridors, the men closest to the chaos grunting before death. The men in front of you and Makarov struggled to figure out if they should wait for the perfect shot on you or trust that their king could overpower you. You didn’t give them anymore time to decide as you removed the knife plunged into you and threw it, killing one of the men on impact.

The remaining guard, now alone as his comrades fought and one fallen dead, had no choice but to remain frozen to wait for a good shot. Makarov just chuckled, a wince coming across his face as his broken wrist surged pain up his arm. “You are indeed quite the formidable opponent, Hex. But you have trapped yourself. How long can you hold me here until you bleed to death? Not long enough.”

“Please, I have plenty of time.” You smirked diabolically, kicking the table behind you. The mirror and lantern crashed to the floor, glass shattering and light flickering out. Nothing but darkness in the makeshift room.

Makarov felt you let go of him, a move that surprised him completely. For the first time in his life, he was taken aback. Almost scared. All because you have proven to him that you were just as smart as he was and could play his games.

In the pitch black, you dropped to the floor, picking up the broken piece of mirror. With a shard, you cut into Makarov’s Achilles tendons, causing him to howl in agony as he fell to the floor. While he was down, the same shard entered his neck, the warm blood already flowing out to coat everything in sight. The guard, in a panic, fired his gun. You felt one of the bullets graze your shoulder, but you couldn’t stop now. Rushing forward, you swiped the blade from the body of the guard you killed and ran it up into the remaining one. Slowly, his body became limp before falling to the ground.

Your skin was warm with the coating of fresh blood. The metallic smell filled your senses, a scent that you, unfortunately, missed. Perhaps early retirement wasn’t in the cards for you yet after all.

The sound of gurgling and gunfire seemed amplified within the dark, Makarov’s pathetic attempts to recover proving to be for naught. Once your eyes adjusted to the dark, you managed to see his outline on the ground. It was a fitting picture, seeing the man that killed thousands lying in a pool of his own blood, surrounded by skeletons residing in the hell under Paris. You came up to him, the knife still in your hand, blood flowing from your side. “On second thought, I think I’m gonna keep this gift.”

With those final words, you slashed his throat, more blood dripping to add to his puddle. Even in the dark, you could see the light drain from his eyes. Gurgles and bubbles fought for final breaths until it was too late. Always one to confirm your kills, you felt for a pulse. When there was none for a few minutes, you knew that the job was done.

“Makarov is KIA confirmed. If the reinforcement is ready for a sweep, send them down.” You announced, taking the bobby pin out of your hair and holding it as close as you could to your ear.

“Reinforcements going down now. Defend yourselves until the end. Good work out there, Hex.” Price confirmed, so proud of the fact that Makarov was finally dead that he could cry. The amount of turmoil he has caused made everyone want to celebrate immediately. However, the job wasn’t over yet. The rest of Makarov’s men had to be dealt their own justice.

Gaz and Ghost head the confirmation on their end, pride swelling in their hearts and giving them a whole new energy to fight with. As Gaz unleashed hell with his rifle, Ghost gave his own update. “Making our way through the operation at a good pace. We believe that some of the men are fleeing now.”

As you walked towards your exit, you suddenly became lightheaded. The sound of gunfire seemed slightly muffled and your body ran colder than before. On your next step, you collapsed to the floor. With just feeling alone, your hand swept against your side, feeling just how much blood you had lost when Makarov stabbed you. You gave a painful chuckle. “Good job, team. This was a good last job.”

“Last job?” Soap repeated, confusion in his voice clear.

“Hex, You need medical attention! We need to get her to a medic!” Ghost picked up the cryptic language quickly, a new fear taking over his body. Without thinking, we began running through the catacombs to try to find you. Gaz called for him to wait so he could provide cover fire, but there was no getting through to him now. Simon couldn’t hear anyone giving him orders through his earpiece. The only thing he could hear was the sound of his own terrified heartbeat.

You knew he was coming to get you, though. The voices through your communication device relayed this to you. You had barely registered it, but you heard enough to know that Simon didn’t plan on letting you bleed out if he could help it. The only problem was that perhaps he couldn’t.

“Hex! Y/n!? Stay with me! I’m coming to find you!” He tried to keep you awake, intuition telling him that you were slowly slipping away. Price hopped on his monitor on his end again, trying to aid Ghost in getting to you. As soon as he figured out where your positions were, he began to provide directions.

A few minutes later, Ghost was picking you up in his arms. Your body felt cool to the touch and wet with blood. However, he didn’t mind it one bit. He just held you close and spoke to you to try to keep you awake. It didn’t take long for Gaz to catch up in order to guard the both of you all the way back to the surface. “If you got her, let’s go!”

You slipped in and out of consciousness, losing more blood by the second. The adrenaline that was preventing you from feeling the pain was slowly fading. Now that you could feel your body again, you could tell that Makarov got you pretty good when he stabbed you. Damn, it really fucking hurt. At least it was better than losing a whole eye.

“Stay with me. We’re almost there.” Simon softly reassured you, praying to the universe that you will make it out alive. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this.

When the bright sun flashed on your faces as soon as you emerged from underground, it hurt. A medical team was waiting right there, rushing over as soon as they saw just how coated in blood you were. There was no telling which blood was yours and which one was Makarov’s. They were going to provide you with the best help they could.

Simon almost didn’t want to let you out of his hold. He held onto you tightly until Gaz coaxed him into handing you over to the medical team. As he watched them lift you onto a gurney and into the ambulance, he noticed you looking at him. You looked at him like it was the last time you would ever see him again. It damn near completely broke his heart.

When the ambulance began to pull away, siren pressuring cars to get the hell out of the way, Simon became determined. He spoke to Price through his radio. “Captain, permission to go to the hospital and wait for Hex.”

“Permission granted. The medical staff are probably going to be confused about her identity. Probably have a lot of questions.” He granted, understanding that this wasn’t coming from a place of professionalism. This was a personal request, one that Ghost never made in all the time Price has known him. Besides, you deserve to have someone by your side when you wake up in the hospital.

You woke up feeling groggy as hell, your vision blurry and aching from the bright fluorescent lights above you. Your mouth tastes like salt, a sign that an IV was working its way through you. The right side of you dully ached, no doubt painkillers making the stitches more tolerable. A headache began to set in as you tried to sit up, a groan escaping your dry throat.

“Kitten.” Ghost called out to you, noticing that you were finally awake. He wanted to reach out to you, but you stopped him for a few instructions first. You couldn’t handle a bear hug right now.

“Dim the lights and get me some water first. Call the doctor too.” You spoke, voice strained as you went through your mental checklist of things you needed. Simon had no issues following your orders, figuring that you deserved to be spoiled, especially after what you went through for them.

Once the lights were dimmed down, your headache began to ease up. Simon opened up a water bottle for you and helped you drink. Hopefully you’ll get a meal soon too. Pretty soon after that, Simon brought back a doctor who beamed at you, her teeth matching the fluorescent lights that were on moments ago. She spoke English, but her French accent came through. “Hello! We didn’t expect you to wake up for much longer. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” You truthfully answered, earning a little giggle from the doctor.

“Normal then. That’s good. Do you remember what happened?”

Your brain strained to remember how you ended up in the hospital, your memories showing you nothing but darkness. Seeing the strain on your face, Simon took your hand and held it. Suddenly, the memories began to flow back. “We were on a mission that led us to the catacombs. I assassinated Makarov. He got me with a knife before then. A bullet grazed me too. I lost a lot of blood. Right?”

She gave a gentle smile and jotted down a few notes on a clipboard. Simon looked at you, proud that you could remember. It seemed like you were still sharp as a tack even after everything went down. “Perfect. You were brought to the hospital for medical attention. We managed to find out your blood type for a blood transfusion. Examined your organs and stitched you back up. You are a very lucky lady.”

“Thanks. When can I leave?” You inquired, already itching to get out of the uncomfortable hospital bed. Simon glared at you as you expressed your eagerness to leave. You needed to rest, damn it!

“We want to keep you for another night just to make sure you’re okay. But, if you really are in a rush to leave, we can settle for a few hours. Your body has proven to be pretty resilient. Though, we recommend having someone help you out at home for a little while. You would still need to take it easy.” The doctor recommended honestly.

That was something you could work with. Accepting the compromise, you nodded your head and sighed, hardly believing that you could even sigh in this life still. Everything was beginning to feel more surreal. It felt like you were really close to death this time. Maybe if Ghost hadn’t found you as quick as he did, you would be dead.

The doctor put the notes on her clipboard and left to gather the things you need in order to go home early. Simon scowled at you under his mask, hardly believing how you could still be so frustrating after almost dying. “You better not be thinking about doing shit once you get out.”

You rolled your eyes at him, not missing the lectures that you thought were over with. “Relax, Simon. I just don’t like hospitals, alright? I would rather be in a comfortable bed with access to a full bathroom. Is that so much to ask?”

He huffed at you before grumbling under his breath. “No. It’s not. Sorry. I just. . . thought I lost you for a moment.”

Your gaze softened, guilt invading your heart. You shouldn’t be picking fights like this again. Not this soon at least. Hell, you should be showing him gratitude for getting you to medics in time. He risked his life to save you. “I’m sorry, Simon. Thanks for waiting for me. I would like to be able to recover back at the hotel for a while before getting back on my feet again. I would feel more comfortable there.”

At that, he gave an understanding nod and brushed your hair out of your face. You missed his touch. “You got it, kitten. We’ll make it happen.”

Kate flew all the way to Paris to help you navigate the intense questions on your identity when it was time to be discharged. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw her in person, but seeing her again made you realize just how much you actually missed her. She missed you too from the way she hugged you tightly, careful not to cause pain. She owed you big time for this. Helping you avoid questioning was only the beginning of her efforts to pay you back.

When you and Simon arrived back at the hotel, Soap, Gaz, and Price were waiting to see you again. They had bought plenty of food and drinks along with cake to celebrate your quick return and finally putting an end to Makarov. While you were still a bit closed off from them, you did begin to reveal more tidbits of information about you. Some of your other assassin stories, a little bit about your interests, and cracking jokes here and there. It was most likely the painkillers that were helping you feel a little more loose than usual.

At the end of the day, the men went back to their rooms, the men being granted permission to have a little vacation for a while for the good work they’ve done. Simon, however, stayed with you in your room. He showed no signs of leaving either. “What do you think you’re doing? Shouldn’t you be going to bed?”

“I am going to go to bed. We’re sharing the bed.” He answered like you just asked the stupidest question he’s ever heard.

When you opened your mouth to protest, he cut you off. “Doctor’s orders. You need someone to help you around at all times. Someone to make sure that you take it easy. I’m that someone. Don’t even try to argue.”

You bit your cheek, holding back your stubborn protests that were threatening to spill out. With a deep breath, you tried to accept the fact that Ghost wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “How long do you plan on sticking around for?”

“Two weeks. Doctor’s orders.” Simon revealed, a smirk playing on his lips that was revealed once he took his mask off for the night. His handsome face almost had you fall over. You didn’t think you would get to see that face again.

You didn’t think you will be able to handle being pampered by him for the next two weeks as well.

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124 notes · View notes

ornii · 4 months

Text

Jealous? Me? No…

Illyana Rasputin X Male Reader

So I finally watched The New Mutants yesterday, and I gotta say, it wasn’t good, but it wasn’t bad either. An okay Marvel film in my opinion, however Anya Taylor-Joy absolutely killed the role as Magik. And the idea of a Reader who also had a relative in the X-Men and is believable, gave me an idea, and this was it.

The relationship you had with Illyana was particularly hard to define. You wouldn’t call her your girlfriend, but she is also more than a friend. You sensed a Kinship with her ever since your, outburst. It sounds small but it resulted in the deaths of a lot of people, I suppose that’s what happens when a Mutant tried to live a normal life. Having the same genetic system as The Wolverine, it gave you nearly all the same powers, including a deep primal rage that could erupt at any time. Thus, leading you to being hospitalized.

Dr Reyas had an interest in you particularly, it seems only one Successful clone of Wolverine exists; you. Or so they think, you know of one more, Laura. Keeping her secret, keeping her under the nose of the Government was of utmost importance. Everything with Illyana was fine, she was being her usual self, rude, condescending, and just an overall ass to you and everyone, but it didn’t bother you. Everything was fine, until Dani made her appearance. A new challenger enters Illyanas game, and she doesn’t like it.

You and Illyana were watching Dani sleep, granted you two were outside the room, watching though the faded glass. You couldn’t make out any physical differences in her. She looked like your average teenager, maybe her powers are more psionic. You rubbed your chin and Illyana spoke. “I bet Pocahontas will try to run the moment she wakes up.” She said, almost to get a rise out of you, to see your negative but passionate response but you were simply thinking, blocking her out. She noticed your lack of response and turned to you. All your attention wasn’t on her anymore, but on this new girl.

“(Y/n).” She said with that stern Russian accent, it snapped you out of your trance and you finally looked at Illyana, as much as she annoyed and overall pissed you off, her beauty was unmatched, blue Iris, long gorgeous blonde hair like a brick road to heaven, and an accent that commands respect but has such a alluring tone.

“What?” You say, “You gonna bully this one too?” You say, Illyana smirks, finally getting your attention. “Depends, you seem to be infatuated with Pocahontas.” She said, you finally responded to her obvious jab and shook your head.

“Real fucking funny.” You mutter. “A new girl winds up here and you’re already jealous?” You said, Illyana kept her smile, but deep down she was starting to get annoyed.

“I don’t get jealous.”

“Then you won’t mind me saying hello.” You reply, and reach for the door handle, and for a moment you saw a short glimpse of panic in her eyes, as you gripped the handle, the voice of God spoke to you.

“(Y/n), remove your hand from the door.” Dr Reyas said from the intercom, she was watching, always watching. You reluctantly removed your hand. “Please gather in the main foyer, our daily session begins in 10 minutes.” She says, you look at Illyana and shrug, putting your hands in your jacket, you walk off. You and Illyana enter the room to Roberto, Sam, and Rahne, the other tree stuck in this place. It seems that there were only two chairs left, oddly enough, both seats end up with you next to Illyana. Reyas sits before you all, and starts.

“Yesterday, I asked you to think about… the first time your mutation manifested. Would anyone like to share? (Y/n)? Sam? Illyana? Roberto? Rahne? Look, we can’t help each other unless we talk to each other. I’ve said this a hundred times. This program can’t help you if you refuse to participate. So, Rahne, why don’t you start?” She said, Rahne was a short girl, pixie cut and had a soft Scottish accent, she wasn’t as feminine as most girls, but she had her own charm.

“I…” she started, but Dani, the new girl walked in, sulking.

“Please join us, Dani. This is our new patient, Danielle Moonstar. Let’s do our best to make her feel at home. Go ahead, Rahne.” Reyas said, (Y/n) shrugs and stands up and takes another chair and places it further in the circle.

“Take a seat.” You say, and sit back down, Dani awkwardly sulks next to you, and Illyanas eyes dart from her Hand puppet to you.

“Right. I was 13. I remember running through the woods.” Rahne began.

“How did you feel?” Doctor Reyas asks.

“Free. Like, the most free I’d felt my whole life. But guilty, too.”

“Why feel guilty?” You ask, “You get a turn into a wolf, that’s fucking sick.”

“Because I knew it was bad. I went to Reverend Craig… to see if he could pray it out of me. He asked me to show him, so I changed.” Rahne continues..

“And what did Reverend Craig do?”

“Beat me about half to death. Said I was a witch… that I was going to hell.” Rahne looked so, hurt. You reluctantly sat up from your seat.

“Would anyone else like to share their first time?” Reyas asks, and Illyana decides to turn to heat up.

“New girl. How fucked up are you?” She said, turning the ire on Dani, you turned to the Girl.

“Illyana.” You said, a bit of a grumble.

“Drugs, I bet. Or a nympho, maybe..” she kept pestering. You then decided to raise your voice.

“Cut the shit okay?” You said, The Russian turned to you, seeing your face and found an odd sense of pleasure in it. Reyas takes hold of the situation.

“Keep behaving… exactly like you are right now… and we can all just spend the day in solitary. I want all of you to think very carefully… about how you’d like to use your time here. And how long you want that time to be. (Y/n), since you’re already up… why don’t you show Dani around?” Reyas orders. You stood up, still locking eyes with Illyana.

“Yeah, sure..” you said, and looked over to Dani. You offered your hand to help her up and she took it, she stood up and you began to walk around, showing the new Girl around, that was a mistake.

Night has crept up to you all much sooner than expected, you were preparing to turn in for the night, finishing up clothes duty, the sudden sound of a clank of metal caused you to put the towel down and then around, you half expected death, but it was much worse.. Illyana.

“Oh, it’s you… gonna keep bullying Dani for whatever reason?” You said, but she wasn’t her cocky, overbearing self. She pouted and folded her arms, and asked a single question.

“Do you like her?” She asks, the question blindsided you.

“What?” You responded, and Illyana slowly approached.

“Do you like her? You act like you do..”

“I .. I don’t get it why are you upset?” You said, which causes her to finally just spew her feelings. “You are so fucking dense! Do you not notice anything you big dumb cute plyushevyy mishka?!” She yells, it took you less than a minute to realize she’s pinned you to the wall. Her arm now armored and placed near your head, as she leaned in, her lips barely brush up against yours.

“YA lyublyu tebya, Rosomakha.” She said, your mind translated the words.. “I Love you, Wolverine.” Your hands almost instinctively wrapped around her waist, much to her shock. Your lips pressed firmly against hers and her powers almost activate due to a high sense of, emotion. And it seems you two fall together, to her happy place.

Jealousy, from what I heard it runs in the Family…

(This was just a short thing I wanted to write, Definitely want to make more New Mutant Content, we need more of it.)

#male reader #marvel #illyana rasputin x male reader #illyana rasputin #new mutants #reader x Marvel #jealousy #x men comics #xmen #magik #Magik x Reader #magik x male reader #Ornii

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