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ekaterinatepes · 3 years

Text

Nothing but the Best

Author’s Notes: wow guys! Thank you so much for your support and for following this story! I never thought I would get so much acceptance so quickly! You are all incredible! ❤️

VIII.

“…he’s not in Japan, he’s gone to the Americas” Suguru arched his brow to Ijichi’s words about Satoru’s whereabouts “how come?” He asked “mission in New York, special grade curse in a school” Geto stopped on his tracks “New York?” He took off running to go get his phone without another word.

From: Suguru

To: Kitten

He’s in NYC! Get out of there!

You both agreed not to communicate through phone since Satoru for sure had his device monitored but this was an emergency.

It was 1pm in Japan which meant it would be around midnight back in New York.

“Fuck…” he didn’t have any time to lose, knowing Satoru, he had already found you. He had been there for about two days, plenty of time to locate Y/N.

Shit! He didn’t want Y/N to have to face Satoru alone. Well… so much for postponing his trip to New York.

“Shit!” Whispered getting in his car. He wasn’t about to let you handle Satoru on your own. Not that you couldn’t, oh no! Suguru was confident that if needed be you could hold your own just fine. But, you are his friend, someone who he loves. On the other hand, Suguru couldn’t just ignore what his own heart demanded. He didn’t want you to be alone anymore.

The past 6 months he had to stay behind just to keep Satoru from finding you but it was too late for that.

https://youtu.be/44mTGIotkWQ

youtube

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Each minute that passes feels like a lifetime… the clock falls off the wall…

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Defeated… that’s how Satoru felt now that he was finally able to face you. In his mind he pictured this encounter way different from this painful waltz of heartbreak.

He had been stupid to think you would jump in his arms, kiss him like there was no tomorrow and forgive him. He had been more like… delusional, thinking you would receive him with open arms (and legs) just because he showed up here.

Satoru thought you would see how hard he worked to find you, how much he suffered in your absence. He thought that would be enough to at least get a smidge of compassion from you.

Nothing was further from the truth…

You had always been a tough girl, stubborn, opinionated and bold. And fuck! He loved how you always made his blood boil with your passion! He could never get enough of you which is why he was so smitten.

But there was something different in you this time around… you had never been so… cold.

There was always a warmth that surrounded you at all times even when you were angry (specially then) a metaphorical and also a physical halo (not visible for non sorcerers) of luminescence that clung to your body enticing him and any cursed energy user to come closer. But now… standing here, before you. Watching you through his six eyes he saw that same halo much more opaque and cold. It was as if you had surrounded your heart with ice walls. A shiver ran down his spine.

What had he done to you!?

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Hold your breath… And pray for the world to end

Nothing's left… Some broken hearts will never mend.

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“Please… listen to me for 5 minutes and then I’ll leave you alone” (more like I’ll stalk you in silence and make you believe I left but I’m not gonna). Holding his hands in front of him as if trying to appease you, showing you he wasn’t hiding anything.

“You and I have nothing to talk about Gojo” your melodic voice was steady. Ouch… It hurt how you didn’t call him by his first name or any of the other cute and overly sweet nicknames you used for him; he haven’t heard you call him by his family name in about six years! No longer after you met you both were on a first name basis. He understood, it was a way of driving a wedge between the two of you, to distance yourself from him.

“There is nothing left for you and me to discuss… it’s over! Leave me alone” you stopped to take a breath trying to calm your heart.

“You know you technically are still a Gojo too… right? So it doesn’t make much sense that you call me by OUR name”. Yes, it was petty but he would be damned if he didn’t try and convince you to call him in a more familiar way.

She looked at him as if he was soft in the head for a moment “Sign the papers and forget I ever existed…” he had to cut you right there “NO! I refuse to forget about you Y/N! You are my wife! By law and by right you cannot just keep me away from you! I am not signing shit!” All those words tumbled from his lips faster than he expected. The rejection he felt for the idea of you never being with him again was making him lose his mind. You could not be serious! Could you? You couldn’t really be considering to move on… without him. (As if you hadn’t already done that).

“Just let me explain! Fuck!” running his hands through his hair in an exasperated gesture. “Please…” came a broken whisper, not a demand, but a request.

You straightened your back and folded your arms over your chest “you have 5 minutes and that’s it. At the end of that time I want you to leave and never come back!” Satoru nodded although he didn’t really agree to those terms but he thought if he continued to defy you it wouldn’t do him any favors to gain your forgiveness.

“I am sorry…” looking straight in your eyes started the handsome sorcerer, crestfallen and bleak “I know… I fucked up so bad… I know I hurt you. “ only words wouldn’t cut through the thick barrier you carefully crafted around yourself. You might as well be shielded by his infinity.

You looked at him with a mix of anger, pain and longing. You hated yourself so much for feeling your traitorous heart hammering away, getting lost in his crystalline eyes and deep voice. It wasn’t fair he held so much power over you.

“But I am fixing it Y/N… Sookie is not in my life anymore… I left her and haven’t been with her in a very long time, I don’t want anyone else but you…” assured the man desperately.

“How can you say that?!” You asked horrified “what kind of man are you that you would abandon your child!?”.

“He was not my son!…. Y/N. She cheated on me with someone else, the baby she carried was not mine. I confirmed that when the child was born…” admitted once more embarrassed about his stupidity.

Your expression was blank for the longest time, trying to process what Gojo had just said.

You blink a couple times, it’s almost as if he expected you to feel bad about his luck.

Fucking asshole! You knew he was trying to play the pity card with you but it wasn’t working.

“Well… I don’t care about your personal life, it’s none of my business” you reminded him. Satoru visibly flinched at the brutal retaliation. “let me finish! God damn! Y/N!” He felt like pulling out his hair.

“I know I fucked up so bad but please… please give me another chance… I will do whatever you say! Give you whatever you want just…. Don’t do this” he waited for an answer from you. He wanted to touch you and hold you in his arms, promise you he would take care of you and prove he was now worthy of your love.

“Goodbye Satoru…” you said turning around and getting ready to leave him standing there in the cold.

On instinct he warped in front of you and stopped you by wrapping his arms around your body, one went to your narrow waist and the other behind your neck pulling you to him.

Fuck it…. You already hated him, might as well give you a good reason.

He crushed his lips against yours in a passionate embrace. Your body froze in his arms and he took that opportunity to deepen the kiss, ever the opportunist he slipped his tongue between your lips and caressed yours, enticing you to taste him as much as he was tasting you.

It only took your brain a couple seconds to work but by then you were trapped. You tried to fight him, placing both your palms against his chest and pushing him away. Might as well have been pushing a fucking wall. Gojo fucking Satoru was the strongest living person for a good reason.

It felt like an anaconda embrace, the more you struggled the tighter he held you until you finally gave in yourself. A tear ran down your cheek by the time you started kissing him back. You both went from practically devouring each other, angrily fighting for dominance to sensually and tenderly exploring each other’s mouth with your tongues, little licks and nips until you separated. His forehead against yours, both of your breathing heavily.

Not a single word was exchanged. Both of you afraid to break the chasm of this frail truce.

—————

———> Chapter 9

@sleepyamaya

@cloudsinthecosmos

@jxvajxy

@satoruhooraaa

@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

@jscarlet06

@fiona782

@thatsharklovingwoman

@heichoustheoryofcleanliness

@syynnaaah

@shaylove418

@coldvillainess

@vampgguk

@sukuna1stwife

#jjk #jjkgojo #jjk satoru #jjk suguru #jjk anime #jjk fanfic #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujustu kaisen #gojo x you #gojo saturo x reader #jujutsu geto #geto smut #jjk geto #geto x y/n #Youtube

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imagine-organization-xiii · 3 years

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If i may ask; can i please have how the org 13 members act around their crush? Thank you in advance ❤️

Masterlist - Incorrect Organization XIII - Tip Jar!

You might also like: when they realize they’re in love with s/o

This was a long-ish one that’s been sitting in the back of my drafts forever lmao - I hope you all enjoy, especially since it’s a bit of long read!

Special thanks to Miss Silverspoon, PhantomMuze, and Sam for helping with Luxord, Saix, and Vexen. Such babes.

Xemnas - Least likely to actually show it. I mean, there will be signs, but it won’t be blatant that he’s acting a certain way because he’s attracted to you. There might be some favoritism (giving you better missions, not scolding you when something goes wrong, looking the other way in certain situations.)

Overall, it’s going to be subtle. You definitely won’t pick up anything weird, but the other org members might. Saix will definitely be the one to come up to you, grab you by the shoulders and give you a good shake. “Please, he’s driving the rest of us crazy.” And you’re like “what the hell???” Saix: “Xemnas has been giving you the best missions and staring at you for five minute intervals. In his language, that means he’s practically a wanton hussy.”

Xigbar - Not ashamed in the slightest. He won’t even act any different. He finds you attractive, you find him attractive (Xigbar: “Everyone finds me attractive, obviously.”) So why bother wasting time? He doesn’t really call it a crush, though. He thinks crushes are for children and he’s a man, god damn it, he doesn’t have crushes.

An unintentional sap. Before he plucks up the courage to say something to you - and it takes him longer than he will ever admit - he finds himself going soft for you. Thinks you’re pretty, instead of hot; wants to hold your hand instead of slam you against the wall. It’s a bit infuriating to him at first, but also maybe kind of worth it.

Xaldin - Ohhhh, man. He’s been in love before; he’s been hurt before. So he is ready to rein in that shit immediately. But it’s so difficult because he likes you so much and you’re so awesome. He’ll decide to give it a chance eventually, but it will take some time. He would definitely be content with just being friends, though, because he really doesn’t want to ruin what the two of you already have.

He makes sure to always be there for you. Always helps you when you need it. A gentleman in the ways that matter and a feisty, flirtatious beast in the ways that don’t. The type of guy to flirt by making sure that he takes his shirt off after a sweaty workout and casually flexes/stretches when he knows you’re watching but also makes sure you’re hydrated and wrapping your fists correctly when you spar.

Vexen - You’ll probably know about his crush before he does. He’s so absorbed in whatever his task is - his experiments, his theories, etc. - that he doesn’t even notice that his eyes linger on you and his posture automatically straightens when you walk into the lab. He’ll instinctively turn his body in your direction so that you’re almost always in his line of sight.

Doesn’t yell at you for walking into his lab when he’s obviously busy. Actually asks you for your input, likes talking to you and discussing his theories with you. You’re smart, but some of his experiments are beyond you, and he doesn’t mind explaining in simpler terms when you ask questions. It blows Zexion’s mind because he has a running tab on the different ways that Vexen throws people out of his lab and he’s never done it to you.

Lexaeus - not much for flirting. He’s come to terms with the fact that he likes you, but you’ve both known each other long enough that you know him, so there’s no way that he can pretend to act a certain way because you would know that something wasn’t right. It’s very difficult to tell that he has a crush on you - there’s no blushing, no flirting, no favoritism. He’s just his normal self.

When you finally figure it out, you realize that he showed his crush in subtle ways instead - offering a hand to pull you up after sparring, holding open a door for you, and apparently glaring at people who come up to flirt with you when he accompanies you to the market for groceries.

Zexion - “IT’S NOT LIKE I LIKE YOU OR ANYTHING, GO AWAY.” This emo little bastard doesn’t know how to deal with his emotions. He lost his heart at a really bad time, when he was still growing into himself, learning balance between anger, frustration, patience, euphoria, etc. so he’s very unfamiliar and uncomfortable with the idea that he likes you.

There may be a few gentle shoves and punches in the shoulder. He has so many feelings and has no way to put them into the world other than violence - because that’s really all he knows nowadays. But it gets better!!! You learn together.

Saix - Honestly, God help you if Saix gets a crush on you because he really doesn’t make it easy. If anything, he’ll be making your life difficult. He overcompensates about not giving you any special treatment, giving you harder and more difficult tasks/missions, or your workload might remain the same but his expectations are almost impossibly high. He’s not only trying to prove himself to the others; he’s trying to prove to himself that he doesn’t care.

He’s more difficult to be around tbh, and yeah, he’ll definitely seek you out which is a pain in the ass when you’re trying to avoid him. You’ll have to be the one to barge into his office, slam open the door, and yell at him that he’s being an asshole. He’ll probably back off a bit, but.... he’s really only rough on you because he knows you’re capable of more.

Axel - Axel falls in love unapologetically. He’s head over heels almost immediately and not even ashamed of his crush on you. Flirting becomes almost a part of your friendship because he’s just that comfortable with you. His mood is already so bright when he’s around you, but now it’s like the sun and you can’t help but meet his smile with your own grin.

But it gets to be kind of weird on his end because... you don’t realize that he’s being serious when he flirts? So many pick up lines. So many compliments. But you’re just like “oh that same old Axel haha,” and he’s left banging his head against the wall because he likes you so much but you’re so oblivious.

Demyx - He won’t even notice that he has a crush on you tbh. It will take him forever to notice. He knows he’s attracted to you, but he’s attracted to a lot of people so he didn’t think that it would be any different! A crush?? In this economy??? But he’s grateful, you know? Because there really couldn’t be a better person for him to have a crush on - like he could have a crush on Xemnas, of all people, and that would just be disastrous.

Doesn’t act differently until he realizes he has a crush. When he does realize, he’ll get nervous and clumsy. Shouting from across the hall, “HEY LET ME GET THE DOOR FOR YOU” and runs, trips, and knocks out a tooth. Just completely ridiculous stuff. You kind of notice that he’s acting strange, but it’s just Demyx, and it will probably take Vexen going up to you and saying “please put him out of his misery before he accidentally kills himself trying to flirt with you”

Luxord - Luxord is so charming, more charming than he usually is. He always has this endearing aura around him, and man, he turns it up when he tries to flirt with you. A gift giver - small things, a dessert you might like, a flower he stole from Marluxia’s garden, lunch when you’re busy, etc. Very aware of how to approach you; also knows where to stop before he goes too far. Knows how to read you pretty well in that respect.

Loves the romance that comes with having a crush because there’s so much raw potential. Feelings are confusing, they take a while to grow, but the idea that something amazing can be coming in the future is a great feeling to him. Great potential hangout ideas that don’t necessarily have to be dates, but they help you both metaphorically test the waters about what a real relationship could be.

Marluxia - arguably the most romantic out of everyone. Surprisingly?? Also the most sensible. Of the mind that, you know, if you like someone then do something about it. He has a crush on you? Why not just give it a shot, then? He’ll bring you flowers! Accompany you when you go somewhere! Take you for garden walks! Take you out to dinner!

Somewhere along the line it just becomes a relationship and not just a crush and he’s like, yeah I did this. When everyone’s like “omg how did you get her to like you back” he’s just like “because I did something about it unlike all of you idiots.”

Larxene - Listen. Listen. Larxene is a strong independent woman who doesn’t need someone else in her life to make her feel loved and powerful but damn, you’re so awesome and she has the biggest crush on you even though all of her instincts say that she’s being dumb. Will ask you to spar with her as an excuse to get close to you and don’t be surprised if she’s extra harsh when sparring - she definitely won’t be pulling her punches.

When you get closer, she’ll open up to you in a way that she won’t open up to anyone else, which is a big, obvious flag for you that her feelings may be more than friendship. She doesn’t like talking about herself or her past, so hearing things she’s never told anyone (except maybe Marluxia), makes you feel really great about being her friend.

Roxas - Man, he is such a cute little marshmallow, not shy in general but shy around his crush. He’ll do his hardest not to blush around you, but he does get nervous. So nervous, in fact, that he might make you think he doesn’t like you because he’ll tend to avoid you when he can. He doesn’t want to look stupid in front of you.

This baby feels things deeply, despite the lack of a heart. He always has felt things more deeply than others. Likes physical contact so when he gets over his fears of being around you, he’ll probably end up asking to hold your hand, randomly hugging you, giving high fives, etc.

Xion - Only really falls for people that she’s already friends with, because she knows them and she’s comfortable with them. It’s subtle for her, though. She’ll realize her crush one night and suddenly she can’t even speak to you without blushing, cheeks a bright pink against her pale skin. She’ll stutter, too, and she hates that’s she’s so nervous for no reason because you’re friends!!! And she has no reason to be nervous!!!

She’s also so helpful when she has a crush! Like Demyx, she’s eager to help you with whatever you’re doing, whether that’s mission reports, cooking, cleaning, etc. Unlike Demyx, she actually gets the job done and doesn’t get injured when trying to help. You’re always so grateful and thankful and that just makes her blush even more.

#organization xiii headcanons #kingdom hearts headcanons #organization xiii #kingdom hearts #axel #xigbar #roxas #xion #xemnas #demyx

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vermillioncrown · 3 years

Note

What finally drives Rogue!ZYX to making a run for it: a)WWX following her around with laser focus b) LWJ chugging that vinegar and trailing after WWX c) LQR scowling at her because she reminds him of CSSR bc ZYX is equally weird, if in a different way d)no tofu pudding e)Homework

it's never something simple with zyx, unfortunately.

let's discuss each of your posited points, but in a chronological order:

(for everything - only if genders are allowed to mix at the cloud recesses audits. let's say they are, and for the purposes of visual media it was just a time saver to animate/illustrate/act the relevant disciples only)

c) lqr, instead of beefing w/ wwx in the lecture, grills rogue!zyx. but this is 100% something that any zyx cannot stand: trivia. knowledge that is pure fact but in a way that is of little relevance to matters of importance. think about all the questions that lqr asked wwx: they deal with other sects, history, etiquette - but the first real cultivation question was about the executioner. and even that, he expected a rote answer.

(this is me and my total antipathy for fanboying in aerospace - i was nearly scared off from my field bc i didn't know what fucking airplane or what fucking mission or whatever the fuck ppl talked about and gushed about. it's all trivia. i was in it for the physics and the math.

but i also understand now that to discuss a field properly, there is need to understand its 'culture' and background context. just... not to the fucking extent of memorizing the entire timeline just to show off you know this thing when clearly, you only know it at the most shallow level that is of zero utility -)

(okay no more academic salt from verm)

so lqr asks his questions. the auditors expect to be impressed by the famed bssr's disciple.

she doesn't know a single answer.

it becomes a disastrous blend of lqr's indignance at this... rogue disrespecting their traditions and sects, zyx getting annoyed at the type of questions and getting double annoyed she isn't able to answer these dumbass questions and now ppl thinks she's stupid, no one in jianghu able to stop gossiping within earshot of anyone, wwx feeling bad for their shigu (of sorts) and trying to rescue her by interjecting and getting btfo for it (also gaining zyx's petty ill-will bc she's embarrassed she had to be rescued)...

when lqr finally asks the executioner question, wwx tries one more attempt at deflecting the verbal fire by answering with resentful energy, lwj is judge-y as fuck (even moreso at this... charlatan of a cultivator that barely knew the basics, getting by on reputation only), lqr not shooing anyone out but instead gets so mad he starts a verbal teardown in front of the whole lecture hall -

and they all forget that for whatever reputation that rogue!zyx developed as bssr's 'bamboo fairy' disciple, she was all on her own before they even heard of her. she isn't stupid.

so all the shit she said to wwx in dbd, ch11 in the library? imagine the derision at the lack of nuance, the assumptions, the brute force, the inelegant manner in which all canon parties handled that hypothetical. and that derision comes out uncensored, out loud, in public, in the most bitchy-yet-formal manner that rogue!zyx can muster. it harkens back to when she had to deal with the dumbest 'gotcha!' questions at a conference, someone looking to trip up a poor, underpaid graduate student and she's had plenty of experience stopping those ego trips.

she answers lqr in general. rips apart both lwj and wwx's answers. destroys the other auditors' assumptions on what it means to actually know cultivation and have more than two working braincells that rub together to produce body heat.

after the first day...

lqr: furious, and more furious for the reluctant respect that rogue!zyx managed to dredge out of him. an academic can recognize a fellow academic

lwj: pissed off at the blatant disrespect and disregard for proper cultivation, someone playing fast and loose with their traditions (instilled due to the inherent dangers of cultivating, let alone improperly), the fact that the boy he found himself head-over-heels for had his attention stolen away in a single moment

wwx: he doesn't get pissed off so easily, and he's the type to learn with multiple shocks of the electric fence. someone reaming him out doesn't scare him away, and in such a manner and on such a subject? he's hooked. he has to talk to her, he has to gain her respect (no romantic/lust crush on rogue!zyx in this au, but definitely a huge brain-crush)

a) rogue!zyx has less to prove in this au. so her metaphorical clenched buttcheeks are less tense, and she's more willing to engage and discuss things w/ wwx. but only if he pisses her off enough to talk.

bc HOT DAMN he's fucking annoying. and endearing. he... he reminds her so much of one of her best friends pre-death, this friendship that only started once both of them saw past the original misconceptions that they held of each other. this friend was also fucking brilliant, ran his mouth off without stopping, had great and ridiculous humor, was the best workout buddy... and fuck, she just missed everyone. it was easy to let go on the mountain, where everything was so fucking placid and unchanging that it felt like nothing mattered.

but wwx was like an explosion of color. sometimes, it hurt rogue!zyx's lizard eyes to look at something so bright.

b) lwj is less likely to engage rogue!zyx. she's not a musician, she doesn't care for the arts, she's basically an unwashed slob on her regular days and a passable young milkmaid on her best days - young lwj would be nowhere near someone of her... everything.

she can feel judgment, though - and like how in dbd she's super prickly towards wwx for his initial flash judgment of her, rogue!zyx wants nothing to do with lwj.

'god, it's one thing to read and feel sorry for him - it's another to deal with him actually being a huge dickbag!'

(lwj's looks are 10000% her type, and she fucking hates herself for not being able to help but steal glances at him. forces herself to never make eye contact, pretends his facial features are just a blank slab with a henohenomoheji on it, the fucking works)

(somehow makes friends with su she because of her antipathy/hate-boner towards young!lwj)

d) they have tofu in the cloud recesses. definitely a thing made fresh. and then... you just take some juiced sugar cane + ginger + pandan (unless pandan doesn't get traded up from SEA, then some fragrant flower for flavoring), boil it into a syrup, and pour it on your tofu.

OMFG use the snow during winter to cool it. BAM tofu pudding.

rogue!zyx runs an illicit tofu pudding stall from her dormroom, after dark.

e) rogue!zyx hasn't done homework since she was... uh... 25, pre-death? 26? anyways, being beholden to an assignment is aggravating, but a part of her has always thrived under some structure and direction. without such, she does get indolent.

(it's the very-probable-adhd, ok)

but her tolerance for dumb busywork has dropped. in the beginning, she welcomed the easy dopamine from the bullshit assignments. more trivia. more dumbass, cookie-cutter answers.

and then... she gets bored. a bored zyx is one that escapes to another plane of existence. astral projection if she can't physically leave. her lecture performance drops, her assignment grades drop. her handwriting starts to completely lack effort.

lqr, thinking that he was getting through to this difficult student, is incensed at the slippage. he starts another tirade in lecture, "what are you doing here if you do not respect what you are learning?!"

yeah... what is she doing here?? her last experiences with schooling were the complete anarchy of college. she literally can walk out of any lecture that she doesn't fucking have to take.

"i don't know" and she just gets up from her desk, and walks out of the cloud recesses.

#Anonymous #inquiry #zyx au's #mszyx #rogue!zyx #total fucking gremlin #all of zyx's (my) bad school habits are here #sleeping; playing games; reading other things; daydreaming; doodling;#and yet she's still able to wriggle out of any question thrown at her (if it's not a dumb trivia/general knowledge question)#^i know i'm very lucky to have the ability to survive under the soul-crushing factory-drone-churning ways of the US public school system #and not everyone is able to #teaching is something that needs to be done with care #and learning is also something that needs to be learned #both are metacognitive skills and unfortunately both teachers and students are treated like grindstones

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princecharmingmendes · 3 years

Text

Heart by Heart | Chapter I | Raul Mendes

*secret agent AU*

Y/N and Raul have been friends ever since they could remember. And falling in love with your best friend can be pretty tricky and messy 99% of the times, add that to the fact they're constantly risking their lives side by side on the field since they're both secret agents, and the best team that's ever existed. Perfect recipe for disaster.

Helloo, this is the first chapter of this series and I'm super excited about it. Please read the warnings on this one, if you don't feel comfortable with the contents listed on the "warnings" section, please read something else, there are a lot of other works on my masterlist and on the "fic rec" hashtag on my blog. I plan on posting a chapter weekly, which means new chapter every Thursday (and maybe a sneak peak every monday). Please give me some feedback and I hope you guys like it as much as I did. I'll stop rambling now, byee. Happy Reading!

masterpost | next chapter

*Word Count: 3.4K+;

*Warnings: cursing, descriptions of violence, blood, injuries, hostage situation and a whole lot of teasing. Please don’t read it if any of this subjects make you uncomfortable, feel free to check my masterlist for other writings.

*Posted: July 1st, 2021.

-*-

Raul Mendes was a pain in the ass. Y/N loves him way too much for her own good, but he was a pain in the nonetheless.

He was the only person she knew who could be in a possible life-or-death situation and still make fun of her through their communicators. And sure, that made the whole thing lighter and less scary, and sure, he was the best agent she’s ever met, but damn did he get on her nerves. And Raul always knew how to get her frustrated or squirming, he enjoyed it more than he was willing to admit. Sure, they’ve been friends for a long time and she should be used to him, but it never got easier. The fact he had a killer smile, the looks of a legit greek god and had this whole tough guy exterior, but secretly had a soft spot for her did not make her case any less complicated.

Y/N and Raul knew each other ever since they’re basically born. Their parents met when they worked together at a company of secret agents, it was only a small corporation back then, and they were known as the best agents at the time. After they retired from field missions and eventually desk jobs, they became only advisers and emergency contacts. But despite that, they kept their friendship going though all the years and that’s how Y/N was introduced to the triplets. They’re always together, doing everything with each other and protecting themselves. And of course she loved Peter and Shawn with her whole heart, they’re like family to her, but Raul was different. Y/N wished it wasn’t, but there are certain things in life you can’t exactly control. Like falling in love with your best friend.

And it’s not like she stood a chance, to be honest. Regardless of his looks, he treated her like she hung the moon and stars on the sky. Sure, he was a tough guy, who rode motorcycles and wore leather jackets, and wouldn’t admit alive that he cried while watching Lion King. But he took care of her when she was upset or having a bad period, he would take her driving around town at midnight on random occasions just because he knew it would make her feel better, and would always be so mindful of everything involving her. And yeah, he teased her endlessly, but it was part of it and in reality, Y/N didn’t mind it that much.

So when they started growing older and decided to follow their parents career, it only made sense they trained their asses off and got the job together. The company their parents worked for grew a lot, a team that was originally formed by 15 agents turned into a massive business, with over 100 employees, doing various functions. Shawn was picked for a more diplomatic field, always in meetings with important people and traveling around the world. Peter became a tech engineer, developing the coolest gadgets and weapons imaginable, something out of Totally Spies! Raul was clearly a field agent, an expert on body combat and weapons, best out of the four when it came to their physical test. And Y/N was the one who guided the operations, the hacker and responsible for strategies, also for the tech part and best sniper out of the three of them.

That made her and Raul an unbeatable team and the best duo ever. Their chemistry on the field was recognized by their bosses on the first week, basically glueing them together for every future mission and it worked. For the company. But it only dug her little crush deeper on Y/N’s heart. And obviously no one knew it. She was a spy for fucks sake, she knew how to lie and she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him. Raul didn’t date, working on this field made everyone’s love life a bit harder than it was already, and he never seemed interested enough in anyone with the same career to have a long lasting relationship with. That didn’t mean there where a lot of people interested, which made Y/N’s heart twist in her chest.

“Sweetheart, you still with me?” Raul’s voice came through her earpiece bringing her back to reality.

“Of course I am, you idiot, I take this job really seriously” Y/N replied rolling her eyes as if she didn’t just daydreamed a bit.

“Oh sorry, doll, didn’t mean to insult you hard working” he chuckled “but could you please check in the corridor number 6, half the team is heading down there right now”

“Sure” she quickly typed on her computer changing cameras really quickly, perks of being Peter’s best friend is that she could usually take extra stuff and the newest gadgets on the market “It’s clear and, by the way, you look pathetic with this glasses”

Raul laughed clearly amused, throwing his middle finger up in the air in the direction of the security camera he found “Oh really? Tell that to Peter, he’s the one who created them”

“Technically their still a prototype, so make sure to let him know”

Raul scoffed playfully as he climbed another set of stairs, the man and woman with him following without questioning, used to his ways of leading “Of course, I’m sure he’ll like to hear your fashion critiques to his million dollar glasses”

“I’ll write it down, now careful, you’re approaching the level where they’re at”

“Sure, mom, I’m always careful” he said in a hushed tone signaling to his teammates to keep quiet and try to find the possible security team they left to watch the hostage.

“Shut up” Y/N said trying to hold back the smile from stretching her lips, already letting the airway team know to be ready to pick them up as they approached their target.

They’re currently in the middle of a mission where they needed to recover another agent who got caught up in an ambush two weeks ago, and now they’re being kept as a hostage. Raul’s leading a team to retrieve the agent as quickly and as silently as they could, two with him and three other on the opposite side to meet halfway. All that while Y/N’s on the under construction building across the street seated among her gear, gun in hand following their every step and guiding them through the camera system and the big windows that other building had. It’s not the worst mission they’ve ever been, no apparent violence or blood bath, just a simple rescue mission, but they still felt a little jittery and always worried about each other’s lives. And through the years, they noticed that their copying mechanism to make this less stressful (at least a tiny bit) was through light banter and jokes. That somehow brought a bit of normality to their very non ordinary job.

Y/N did her best to keep them hidden while they crashed into the building as quietly as possible, trying go unnoticeable since they didn’t have enough munition or people on the tactic team. It would also prevent them from moving the target around or opening fire. And despite the fact Raul kept on trying to joke around and that she’s been doing this for at least four years, the fact that they’re working with a less experienced and fresh out of the academy crew made her a little jittery. Not that she didn’t trust Raul to command everything and boss everyone around if things got messy, she just didn’t want him to get in the middle of a crossfire again.

He had the terrible habit of playing the hero in the most inconvenient times, like when they were little and a guy twice his size, with three friends mocked her pigtails. He didn’t stand a chance, but he went after them anyway. They ended up having to run as fast as they could so they wouldn’t end up with a black eye or something. And that was nothing compared to the stupid shit he could do on field. And Y/N couldn’t be more pissed whenever he came home with more bruises then he should just to play Superman or something. Sure, that was admirable and the fact that he put everyone on his team on his top priority was definitely something fantastic for a captain, but not for Y/N’s heart.

And for that reason, she was always extra careful, but when he had a newbie joining him on the field, Y/N tripled the attention to avoid putting the kid in danger, and, consequently her best friend.

Raul was quick to take down two man on their level without raising much alarm, grabbing their munition, dragging the unconscious bodies away from where they’d be easily seen and moving forward to another set of stairs. He was a very skillful agent, with great physical development and worked great under pressure, with quick thinking and a natural leader. So it didn’t shock her when he was able to do that as if it was the most natural thing in the planet. While Raul was more of a passionate person, Y/N was more rational, was analyzing every possibility and coming up with creative solution, she was also really cold on work (she just had one exception) and was a quick thinker, great person to rely on. It’s almost as if the complimented each other and that’s why it worked. That’s why when she tells him to shoot, he does without thinking, or to jump, he wouldn’t blink before doing it head first.

And that’s why they’re able to reach the hostage without much trouble.

“Told you to chill out, I knew we could make it” he murmured through their coms and she giggled, shaking her head incredulously.

“You should watch the entrances while your teammates take care of the hostage”

“That’s why I have you, sweetheart” he said with his infamous smirk stretching his annoyingly pink lips.

Y/N shook her head when she felt her face warming up a bit, stupid boy “Well, actually I’m pretty busy calling for our ride, so watch your own back this time, you’re a big boy, I’m sure you can do it”

Raul scoffed but did as she say either way “fine, are we clear?”

“On your floor yes, climb three more levels and meet me on this side of the street, don’t stall champ, they’re going to notice there’s something wrong with the cameras and their man who aren’t responding, so be quick”

Raul chuckled as he helped balance the hostage on Roman’s arms and signaling them to climb the stairs again “Yes, ma’am, anything to keep you from frowning and scolding my ass”

Y/N rolled her eyes smiling, sighing in relief that half of their mission was done and it went as smoothly as it could have been “Great, now get your ass out of there now, Raul”

The tactic team started moving to the floor they’d have access to jump, and everything was going too smoothly to be true, not even a minor inconvenience. And that was not normal, at all. That’s when Y/N started getting worried.

Everything was great until Seth, from loosing a lot of blood and being severely dehydrated, started loosing his conscious, making Roman’s job a lot more complicated and making everyone move slower. And while that was happening, Y/N saw when one of the guys saw his partners laying limply on the corner of a hallway and finally the pieces clicked. Luckily she was able to caught it quickly enough to be able to mess up their coms, so instead of a dozen men, they’d have to deal with two. She was also quick to let Raul know, so he jumped into action, telling everyone to rush and grabbing Seth’s right side, basically carrying him alongside Roman up the stairwell.

But as they’re almost reaching the door, Raul heard footsteps rather close, rushing Roman up the rest of the way, warning he’d be right behind him, that he was only to be a bit far back so he could hold whoever was coming.

He ran downstairs, quickly blocking the door to the staircase with a fire extinguisher, running all the way upstairs to reach his teammates and jump to go home. But as he had just reached the door, his colleagues waiting for him with their gear (and also his) ready to cross to the other building, he felt the barrel of a gun touching the back of his head. Raul raised his hands in surrender, his teammates staring at him with horror in their eyes as they aimed their guns to whoever was behind him, but he knew they couldn’t do much before he got shot. He also knew they’re too young, apart from Roman and Cara, who were both holding Seth up, they weren’t experienced enough to do something like that. But before the person could pull the trigger, they grunted in pain and Raul felt the barrel slipping away.

He turned around to watch the guy on his back in the floor, clutching to his left ribs, a little pool of blood already forming underneath him and gun long forgotten. Raul looked around to see if it was anyone from this guy’s side or anyone on the stairs, only to be met with silence and a single security camera with the green dot on, meaning Y/N was still in their system. He shook his head in disbelief, dragging the whining man outside of the room, quacking his gun down the stairs and managing to lock the door so they could escape safely.

“Still with me, baby?” Y/N’s voice teased mimicking the way he said it earlier.

Raul shook his head with a smirk on his lips, before moving to where his teammates stood still a bit shocked with all that happened in front of them “Wouldn’t dream of leaving you, sweetheart”

“Alright boys, the helicopters are coming for us, meet you all on the roof in three” Y/N said through the coms for the whole team, quickly shifting to a line only the captain, Raul, could hear “and if you dare be late just to make a big entrance or another dramatic scheme you can think about, I swear to God I’ll leave you behind”

“You wouldn’t dare”

“Try me” Y/N sing sang picking up her stuff and quickly shoving them down in her backpack, gathering the rest in her hands before turning around to climb to the rooftop.

As she climbed the last set of stairs, Y/N saw their helicopters approaching as the seven agents she was waiting for used a special gun to shoot a line to her building, before locking them in place before zip-lining their way to meet her. She helped Seth, the agent that was kept hostage climb up the little wall since he was in a pretty bad shape, throwing his arm across her shoulders and basically dragging him to where they thrown the stair to climb up to the helicopter with the medical team waiting for him. Cara and Roman climbed first since they’re going to report what they saw and assist Seth as best as they could. Roman grabbed him and the rope stair, shouting to pull them up so he could be taken care of.

Raul was the last one to arrive, as always staying behind to insure everyone got there safely and no one would try to kill them or anything. He graciously climbed the all as if it was nothing, pulling the gun from the string and cutting it so no one could follow them up there that quickly. Raul told everyone to climb onto the helicopter and they’re quick to follow his order, only one person stubbornly waiting for him, as always. He held back the relieved smile from stretching across his features, noticing how warm and relaxed he felt only by seeing Y/N standing besides the hope ladder. She looked worried, a frown on her beautiful face and Raul wanted to smooth his fingers over it as if it would ease all of her troubles away.

She nodded as soon as he was close enough, Raul being quick to pick up the heavy backpack she was carrying and leaving the rest to her “Are you okay?”

“What? Of course, Why do you ask?” he knew why she was asking, hell, his heartbeat was still a bit too fast to be normal, and yeah, partially was because he was standing in front of Y/N, but on the other hand he almost got killed. She only arched her brow at him and he sighed in defeat “Of course I am, doll, you know me, I’m always okay”

“That’s what’s scares me the most” she said with a sad chuckle and started climbing the rope ladder to the helicopter and Raul was quick to follow behind.

“Dude, that was insane, I can’t believe you didn’t miss or accidentally shot Raul from across the street!” the youngest guy from the mission shouted as soon as they reached them on the vehicle, Raul closing the door behind them.

Y/N only giggled in response “yeah, a bit crazy, isn’t it?”

“That’s because she’s the best, Tommy, but she won’t believe it” Raul said as he sat on one of the vacant seats, waiting for her to join him.

“Oh shut it” she said unable to stop the smile from forming.

They kept on talking about the mission for a while, Tommy and the other two kids who recently joined still high from the adrenaline, but Y/N couldn’t be more worn out and Raul was quick to catch it. He leaned closer to her and she automatically laid her head on his shoulder, a movement that was almost mechanic to both of them. He gently grabbed her hand that was placed on her knee and interlaced their fingers together, letting her play with his hand to pass the time.

Y/N sighed and mumbled after a while, when most of the kids were too distracted to pay attention “Are you really okay? Don’t say that you’re always fine, I mean it”

Raul had mastered the art of the poker face. He could easily be having the worst time of his life, but he would never let it showcase always with a quick sarcastic remark and an easy smirk on his lips, ready to flirt with anyone to distract them from the real problem. Raul was not the best when dealing with feelings and emotions, always thought it was easier to push them away, but Y/N saw right through him. She always did, ever since they were little. After that, he never tried to hide it again from her, always being as honest as he could with her about how he was, and obviously it didn’t always work, but she understood and respected it. It’s not like he needed to say anything for her to know.

But at the same time, she didn’t know that he would always be fine, as long as she was safe and right next to him, the rest didn’t matter.

“I promise you I’m fine, you saved my beautiful ass and we’re going home, I’d say we’re fantastic” he said after a while, pressing a long kiss to the back of their laced hands.

That seemed to be enough to convince Y/N, since she huffed through her nose and let out a tiny giggle, before leaning closer to him and Raul took it as a sign to drape his arm over her shoulder pulling her closer to his chest “your beautiful ass is really annoying, you know that, right?”

“Oh, I do, but you love it anyway” he said with a giggle, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, as she just showed him her middle finger, making him laugh even more.

Yeah, he was definitely fine. For now.

-*-

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

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thejudgingtrash · 3 years

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Can you explain to me how Rachel was annoying in the series?

Well, I’ll try to keep myself short for this one (lol no, this took an hour to write). Also, let’s not forget that they’re all kids, but I’m basing this off from when I read the series as a fourteen year old because my opinions haven’t changed much (for better or for worse).

I’m not the biggest fan of Rachel. I have to admit that portrayals of her by Simi, Kit, Logan, Apollo and all the others helped to shape her into something cooler than what she had been in my foggy memories but I actually went back to take a look in the books (well, TTC + BOTL so far) to refreshen my mind about events that have happened.

Also, you should browse through @blackjacktheboss's blog as she’s a) hilarious and b) says whatever I say in like a single sentence lol. But your ask is about me and my opinions so here we go:

What I didn’t like about Rachel was that she’s rude and bold (DON’T GET ME WRONG, I love that in female characters!!!), but she doesn’t have Annabeth’s excuse of survival of the fittest (literally running off as a traumatized seven year old) and introducing us into the world of the Riordanverse.

Percy was on his way, had shit to deal with and Rachel pretty much interrupted him from the get-go and thought getting her answers was more important than letting Percy just rush forward. Yes, this is Rachel’s entrance into the series and the net Riordan threw into the sea, to make us little fish adapt to her. But it still didn’t sit right with me, probably because I would never interact that way.

I get why she did that, but it’s the way how she did it that’s just making me go ???

Even if I was seeing weird things, I wouldn’t set out to distract/interrupt someone who is incredibly busy to get my way. Rachel’s dick move seems like a Karen boomer type of thing to pull off, but guess that’s up to you.

If I were her, I’d either film/try to photograph the monsters via phone (if that’s possible) or internet stalk enough to find the other person (note: despite Riordan’s stupid rule of not being able to use phones, demigods still can use computers/the internet, I guess). Percy was national news like a year or two ago in the timeline, so it shouldn’t be that difficult to find more stuff out about him, even in like 2008 or so. Let him have a spot on Perez Hilton's shitty gossip blog, for the OGs reading this.

Annabeth was used as a tool of exposition to introduce us to CHB, the demigod life and how things roll around there. She barged into Percy’s mission as a nuisance first but a necessity second in TLT.

However, in comparison to Rachel, Annabeth was transformed into a fully-fledged protagonist within a span of a chapter or two. Rachel needed another separate book after her first appearance, so we don’t just know Annabeth better, we know that she’s an important constant throughout the story as of Rachel seems… almost random? Is she truly necessary as a character?

This doesn’t come from a shipper perspective, this is coming from a character design perspective and adds to the feeling that the way she has been introduced to me as a reader just seems off.

Yes, BOTL makes sense with her as a reborn Ariadne, but technically Sally could’ve done the job as she’s a clear-sighted mortal as well lol. Then again, Sally is an adult, went to college, had a job, was unfortunately probably working it up with Paul, did the cha cha slide with him and had overall better shit to do.

Then Rachel as the oracle, which is just super weird in general. Wasn’t Apollo himself responsible for issuing prophecies in the OG myths? Or did he both, have the oracle of Delphi as his spokesperson and issue important stuff to Team Olympus? Am I mixing things up? I’m getting sidetracked, my bad.

Either way, this oracle gig might be the only time I’d say Rachel might be important in the future (badum tzz), but Riordan fumbled the bag in the follow ups series so there’s that. Did she even appear in HOO? Can’t remember and also don’t care.

Rachel is used as one out of three choices in regard to his love life that Percy can make. Calypso literally got introduced into BOTL and was admittedly Percy’s biggest what if… But the general gist doesn’t sit right with me. We have three possible routes with Percy and the others:

Rachel: somewhat normality in the mortal realm

Annabeth: the danger and thrill of the demigod life

Calypso: ambrosia and nectar. a hint of immortality

(On one hand, literally why but on the other hand, mad props for Percy who has literally three romantic leads in the same book.) I’d cancel one of them at least out and since Annabeth isn’t going anywhere, I’m taking Rachel. Sally could literally been Percy’s anchor to a normal mortal life as she had intended until it didn’t work out anymore when he became twelve and his monster alerting scent grew stronger.

Calypso and Annabeth would’ve been the perfect opposites where each of them had a strong case. The demigod life within the realms or mortal or the demigod life ascending to Olympus/immortality. Sounds cooler and is way simpler. Three people is way too much, this truly feels like a shonen anime harem thing and it’s defo not my cup of tea (and while some Annabeth sideships aren’t my thing (Lukabeth go cry in the corner, no one likes you, WTF, Connabeth you fugly), it’s super unfair that Annabeth solely has Percy (fuck off Luke) to rely on in regards of romantic endeavors).

Rachel almost feels redundant? The option to walk away from all of that… which isn’t really true as Rachel really tries to push and insert herself into the story the very first time we meet her? But that’s just me, I’m certain that others are saying they’d kill off Annabeth or kick Calypso (I mean yeah) into the curb.

Big ALSO:

Why does Percy need another white and uber-rich love interest?

I semi-joked on Dez’ post (@sawasawako) with this response about Annabeth needing to keep up with powerful Rachel, but the core still stands.

We already have an affluent Annabeth (granted, we don’t know exactly how the Chase’s riches are divided, whereas it’s clear that Rachel can just make anyone drop dead by saying who she is. Annabeth needed that weird lotus casino credit card to make that happen, so Miss Harvard Legacy doesn’t wield that Dare schmoney. Also don’t think Annabeth can just up papa’s money and go…? Idk).

Why do we need another person needing to upstage this?

Like Rachel has to triumph in regards to standard and prestige as if it were a badly written Jane Austen AU. For what reason…? Why not make Percy friends and acquaintances with someone who comes from a normal household for once, not super rich brats (Piper, Annabeth, Rachel, technically the Graces with their TV starlet mother amongst others).

Moreover…

Important question: why should Percy actually be impressed/attracted to that? He’s dirt poor and has been sent to (boarding) schools filled with stupid rich people since he’s been twelve, probably even younger than that. As if that’s the very first thing Percy would look out for or be wowed or something. He’s used to rich douchebags. I think he’s more surprised that someone used their money for his benefit for once and not to crash daddy’s new Mercedes again.

Like seriously… Rachel did that weird art project thing in BOTL with her covered in gold and posing like it’s a super normal thing to do? Even for rich snobbish kids standards? That sounds weird to me. I don’t know, maybe Riordan’s been streaming the new Gossip Girl reboot on HBO Max on repeat and thought this girl is on fiyah (performed by Alicia Keys).

Rachel trying to separate herself from her money just comes off as super hypocritical when she’s using the very same funds to finance her lifestyle. I get it, trying to make amends and make a difference with the damage you have done but... your father still doesn't give a shit about the environment or YOU, sweetie. Kick him in the balls for once! Then you can go out about your art projects.

The concept of Percy having friends in the mortal realm is cool, but why does Rachel almost have to compete with Annabeth with her wealth and art stuff?

No seriously, the comparisons are constantly there, out and about. Roaming freely on the finest grass, needing to be feed delicious locally sourced carrots and stuff.

Annabeth is Athena’s kid. Athena is the goddess of wisdom, weaving, justice, warfare yada yada and arts and crafts. So definitely something which would affect Rachel, right (someone write that Athena messing with Rachel because she can AU and tag me please!)?

Annabeth wants to become an architect which translates to fancy building designer who is driving engineers like Leonardo Eugenio Valdez Cortes insane irl because the maths and physics don't work like that in the working field trust me I'm an engineer, which could/should be considered an art form.

They even shared some common ground while talking about architecture and design in BOTL!

Furthermore, they both share broken homes with absent parents (granted that all demigods go through that). Wealthy families at that as well. Shitty fathers that don’t care about their daughters well-being. Rachel however, is super powerful and influential in an unseen level in the mortal world. She isn’t like Matt Sloan (?) who truly messes up by destroying shit to get his father's attention, but she’s still in that circle and can easily demonstrate that. Making deals with her father and what not. We rarely see Annabeth doing that. Did y’all forget the fucking helicopter Rachel brought along in TLO?

Pan saying Rachel is just as important as her father has multiple meanings to me…

(Sidenote: I do think it’s hilarious that Annabeth is jealous/annoyed of Rachel that her remarks were she’s cute right and Percy went??? Or when Tyson said Rachel’s pretty? Or that time when Annabeth actually defended Luke and his weird behavior (because Kronos was slowly taking over, don’t forget that kids!), because f that rich artist nepotism kid that Rachel seems to be, right?)

Another note: Percy thinks Rachel is annoying in BOTL for a while and it took a while for him to admit that and he spent way more time being annoyed/jealous (for once, Lordy) at Luke for him to even notice lol.

I guess it’s really hard for me to exactly pinpoint what’s bothering me. I believe Rachel's persona just doesn’t seem to hit right, because it feels like a knock-off Annabeth who just simply isn’t a demigod, yet has two cool powers, but in even richer who still needs to be part of the story for exactly what reason?

The jumping around from the richest in the series to the poorest in the series is kinda bothering me as if the middle class doesn’t exist, like I’ve stated earlier. Why didn’t Riordan mix it up with Rachel, giving her more nuance the minute they met, not towards the end? Have her be Percy’s platonic friend from the get go. No weird oh wait she is kinda cute in the middle bullshit.

This kinda drifted more into a Perachel vs Percabeth essay, which really wasn’t my intention. Don’t worry kids, I’m criticizing Annabeth (and her stans) enough already.

And I do think that others in the fandom have softened my views on Rachel as a person like I’ve stated in the beginning. So friendship!Perachel is popping! But I do think that there are some valid points that I’ve made.

Also not gonna lie, Rachel issuing the new prophecy in TLO kinda dampened the end of PJO series but that’s more Riordan’s fault than hers.

TLDR: I’m just not a huge fan of this overbearing, uber-rich, excessively flaunting being that Rachel sometimes displays. She’s flawed, she’s broken at times, has a semi-interesting background story (although it has been done over and over again throughout the series and should be changed up for once) which is great, but it is still annoying.

We don’t need an anti-Annabeth who feels like a weird caricature of the real Annabeth.

Also if this seems super incoherent, repetitive, or whatever, I'm sorry, massive headaches + mental health going down the goo lagoon does this to ya, I hope I made somewhat sense!

#Mel answers #pjo #percy jackson #rachel elizabeth dare #rachel dare #Annabeth chase #percabeth #pjo Meta #percy jackson and the olympians #pjato #ttc #botl #tlo

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blackkwidowed · 4 years

Text

a squabble over coffee

Requested: can you do one where Nat and R are bestfriends R gives Nat a massage and might’ve moaned, and moaned again but with R’s name

Summary: Natasha had a rough mission and could do with relaxing. Reader has a coffee addiction. Kind of.

Rating: E. Smut. Lots of smut. Filth. Teasing. The whole works. Sub!Nat because I can’t control myself. 18+

Word Count: 2,861

I’ve written a lot of smut over the years for many fandoms on many platforms, and other tumblr blogs. This might be the winner. This is the most erotic thing I have ever written. Enjoy.

oh my god they were roommates

принцесса = princess

“Oh my God.”

Natasha looks physically exhausted when she finally falls through the door, already past midnight.

You take a glance at Natasha, eyes straying from the book on your lap briefly. “Well you look like you’ve been dug up.”

She rolls her eyes at you, giving you the finger and placing her bag on the floor by the counter. “Nice to see you too.”

She pauses, eyes you up and down with a look of confusion before settling on the mug in your hand. You raise an eyebrow. “Problem?”

“Are you drinking black coffee at midnight?”

“It’s quarantine, of course I am. I don’t sleep. Why else would I look like complete shit right now?”

She smirks at you, settling next to you on the couch. “Doesn’t take a lack of sleep for you to look like shit, Y/N.”

You forget the book, shutting it and placing it on the coffee table in front of you before punching Natasha lightly on the arm. “Bitch.”

She winks.

This was normal bickering for the two of you. As a best friend and a roommate, she was perhaps the only person who’s company doesn’t sicken you after too much time spent together.

She’d been out on some kind of mission for a few days which was apparently heavy on the physical side by the obvious strain and tension to Natasha’s muscles.

She rests her head on your shoulder and breathes deeply, sighing at the bliss of the soft cushions against her back. She reaches for the mug in your hand, bringing it to her own lips to take a gulp.

Natasha makes a beautiful hum, one that makes you think of things you definitely shouldn't be.

“I haven't had coffee in like, four days.”

“Yeah, well get your own next time.”

“Give me a massage then.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll stop stealing your coffee when you give me a massage. It’s a fair deal.” She shrugs. “Come on, you know you wanna get your hands on this.”

Natasha leans toward you with an unceremonious wiggle of her chest in your direction. You laugh, shaking your head. You take the coffee from her hand, swallowing the last of it and placing the cup on the table.

“Fine,” you wet your lip. “Turn over. And take your shirt off.”

Natasha grins in triumph. “Yes, ma’am.”

You’re braver, for whatever reason. Natasha is gorgeous, you’ve never hidden that thought from her. She’s all soft skin and taut muscle and is absolutely beautiful. Your eyes scan her back, her arms, the back of her neck peeking out from where she’s moved her hair out of your way.

Natasha lays on her stomach on the sofa, shirt discarded, lay in just a black sports bra and very, very thin pants. They’re definitely urging your imagination to run wild.

You hesitate briefly, hovering over her. You’re debating just how to let this blow over. You could stay where you are, but lean a little so your arms can reach the tops of her shoulders. You can have as minimal contact as possible with her, or.

Or you could really push it.

Your body reacts before you even mentally make a decision.

You settle over her lower back, straddling her comfortably. You don't miss her sigh, and you’re almost one hundred percent sure it’s a positive noise. You take a chance, slipping your fingers up her back and over the bottom of her bra.

“You should take this off too.”

You don’t miss her shiver at your words, either.

She looks back then, craning her neck around just enough to make eye contact with you. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

You sink your teeth into your lower lip. “I’m telling you. If that’s okay.”

Natasha doesn't give you a verbal answer. Instead, she manoeuvres her body to pull the sports bra over her head, laying back down against the couch cushions.

Your hands find her shoulders, and you begin.

She’s tense, truly. You could see it the second she got home, but feeling her muscles ache under your hands was the icing on the cake, if you will. It was clear she was in pain, even just a little bit.

“Have you given massages before?” She asks, voice low.

“Once or twice, maybe. Why?”

“Your hands just feel really nice.” She turns back to glance at you, and you throw her a wink before she presses her face against the cushions again.

“Thanks, darlin,” you drawl. “Plenty more to come.”

“I hope so.” It comes as a whisper, and you barely hide a smirk.

Your palm presses firm against her back, her skin growing hotter the longer you keep up your movements. There’s a soft groan, you barely hear it, from Natasha’s throat. She definitely tried to hide it from you, but you’re not stupid. And Natasha knows it.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, cheeks flushing a little.

“Don’t be.” You shake your head. “Good to know it’s working.”

“Mmhmm, oh it’s definitely working.”

Underneath you, you feel a very slight buck of her hips against the couch. It’s your turn to flush red this time, because that certainly did not go unnoticed by either of you.

You clear your throat, continuing the ministrations against her muscles, moving further down her back. You say nothing, and the only noise that comes from Natasha is an elated, relieved sigh. You can feel her relaxing underneath you, she’s calming. Less tense. Her skin is just really, really hot and soft and it’s driving you insane.

You relieve the pressure of your palms, instead tracing your fingers across the skin of her lower back. Your touch is electric, she’s shivering below you every so often. Jesus. This is certainly not what you expected to happen tonight.

You lift yourself up, removing yourself from your position straddling her to massage where you were just sitting.

You place a hand on the outside of her thigh, your touch light and subtle, but Nat’ll be damned if it didn't set her on fire, virtually. “Spread your legs for a sec, just wanna do your lower back.”

Natasha breathes a sigh, moving one leg to let you settle on your knees between her thighs.

The thoughts that hit you are unexpected, too. They’re filthy, downright sinful, you can’t believe you’re even allowing yourself to think about it.

God, you never thought you’d be sat between the Black Widow’s spread legs and you’re pleasantly surprised to find yourself in that exact position. You balance yourself with your hands on the back of her upper thighs, under her ass that you’ve definitely taken a couple of glances at already, admittedly.

Your touch burns Natasha through her leggings, it’s red hot heat, your hands on her feel too fucking good, it’s too much and not enough all at once.

You adjust your knee, and the way it brushes between her legs is actually a complete accident, and you’re about to panic and apologise because you really didn’t mean to be so forward, but she doesn't give you a chance to.

“Christ, Y/N.” It leaves her lips as a clear, definite moan, a soft little whimper that has you drowning in a wave of arousal already. Something about the way your name just fell from her lips, so much different to how you normally hear her say it, makes you almost uncomfortably wet.

“Fuck, I didn't mean to-”

“Stop it,” she manages, teeth gritted as she inhales sharply.

You go to move off the couch, frightened your slip up went too far, but her hand moves quick, reaching around to grasp at your wrist.

“No, I mean stop dancing around and hesitating and teasing me.”

You fall back into position, your knee no longer pressing between her legs, but it’s damn well close. Your hands find the back of her thighs again, and your fingers linger there this time, trailing soft and light over her skin.

You release a breath of relief, and you snap back into action.

“If you think this is me teasing you, you’ve seen nothing yet.”

She looks back at you one more time. Her eyes are dark this time, incredibly so. They’re filled with obvious lust, and your body tingles at the way she’s looking at you. “So show me.”

The expression on your face is confirmation for her, and she goes to turn over, until your hand moves up her thigh to halt her. “No, stay on your stomach. But take your pants off.”

She smirks. “Oh, now we’re talkin’.”

She stands from the couch and faces you, pulling her leggings down slowly while giving you a wink. It’s erotic, her gaze. You can’t believe how quickly it’s making you lose it.

You’re met with black, lace panties as she kicks her pants off. That’s it. Christ.

Her thumbs hook around each side of the waistband of her panties, and you can see she’s about to rid herself of them, too. You shake your head at her. “Not so fast. Leave those on.”

You scan her body, drawing her in under a ravenous stare. You pat the couch in front of where you still kneel, admiring her. “Come here.”

She returns to the same position as before, letting you rest between her spread legs while she lays on her front. Your fingers trail back over to her lower back, where you weren't quite finished with massaging yet. Your touch is different now, it’s still electric and it’s still fiery warm but it’s different somehow. It’s almost as if your hands had a mind of their own, and they were in I’m going to fuck Natasha mode, to be crude.

You continue on her lower back, slipping down ever so slightly, caressing the skin under your fingertips. Eventually you reach the very bottom of her back, where it dips and meets that perfect, taut and beautiful curve of her ass in those panties.

You’re starting to feel yourself heat up significantly now, on the verge of light sweat because of how intense the moment is. It’s quiet, all that can be heard is Natasha’s breathing getting a little more ragged as you continue to tease her.

You palm and squeeze gently at her ass a little, before passing it and running your fingers over the very top of her thighs. She shivers, and you slow your movements.

“Relax, Nat.” You whisper, loud enough for her to just about hear you. Your voice has dropped a little, it’s lower, filled with arousal. Natasha finds it undeniably sexy.

Your fingers continue to dance over her thighs for too long for Natasha’s liking. Her inner thighs seem to be the thing that’s making her seriously weak, so you milk it. You can’t wait to sink your teeth into them, marking them and no she probably wouldn't let you do that. But maybe she will, and that’s exciting enough for now.

By the time you’ve decided you’ve finished with her thighs, she’s almost shaking. Her breathing is heavy now, thick with lust. You need to hear more soon.

Your fingers brush the lining of her panties, tracing it around that curve of her ass and down, right where you know she needs you to be, but can’t manage the words to actually say it.

She whimpers quietly when your fingers caress over her cunt.

“You’re dripping, Natalia,” you husk. You press your fingers against her panties over her clit, applying just a little bit of pressure, and she bucks her hips. “Anything you want to tell me?”

Natasha licks over her bottom lip. “You’re the one that’s been oblivious this whole time.”

You grin, because that’s your confirmation that what you’ve been feeling towards Natasha isn’t completely ridiculous.

“Maybe, but you’ve missed my flirting, too.”

She smirks. “I just wanted you to get braver. I was always fully aware.”

“That’s not very nice,” you mutter. Your fingers press harder against her clit and she groans. “Taking advantage of my attraction to you.”

“Well,” she rasps. “Plenty more of that to come.”

You click your tongue, licking your lip.

You slip her panties to one side, letting your fingers slip through her folds. She really is very fucking wet. It’s delicious.

“You’re a brat,” you mumble. “God, you’re fucking soaked.”

“As I said,” she breathes a moan, your fingers slipping to tease, threatening to dip inside her. “You’re not the only one who’s been thinking about this.”

You circle her entrance, and slip one finger inside her slowly. She gasps, almost choking on her own words.

“Tell me exactly what you’ve been thinking about,” you order.

“This, exactly this.” She purrs.

You add another finger and push into her warmth, curling your fingers, dexterous and everything Natasha’s been craving. Your thumb reaches and you circle her clit, relishing in the long, loud moan you’re granted.

Natasha cries out as you hit that exquisite spot inside her, the one that makes her want to scream while she touches herself in the privacy of her own bedroom to the thought of you. She’s even dreamed of it being your fingers instead of her own buried inside her, and though they left her breathless they were still nothing like the real thing.

“Fuck, Y/N,” she presses into the couch below her, her hips bucking. “Don’t you dare stop.”

You laugh softly. “I don’t plan to, принцесса.”

You drive your fingers deeper, using a little bit more force with added pressure to the circling of her clit.

“I’ve been thinking for too long about how badly I’ve wanted to make you moan my name.” You lean over her, fingers still working perfectly between her legs. You press your lips to the back of her shoulder, the flesh hot, a little salty from the shiny sweat covering her body. “There’s no way I’m stopping.”

Her hips are moving more now, sharper and more erratic movements, and her moans are getting louder, progressively so. She’s close. You can feel it. She’s tightening around your fingers, her clit throbs under your thumb and God help those cushions that she is digging her fingers into for something to hold onto. She’s going to come by your hands, and for a second you’re ready to pinch yourself and wake up from a really really good dream, but the way she moans your name again is definitely real.

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” she whimpers softly. “I’m gonna come so fucking hard.”

You sink your teeth into the side of her neck, sucking a dark purple bruise into the flesh. Natasha’s moaning loud, breathing rapidly as her cunt tightens around your fingers, virtually trapping you inside her as she comes with a scream of your name.

You kneel back between her legs, one hand still at the apex of her thighs and the other resting on her shaking leg, tracing and soothing as she relaxes from what sounded like a very intense orgasm.

She sighs, a gentle laugh falling from her lips. “Finally.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut it.”

You pull your fingers out from inside her with a final, quiet gasp. You bring them to your mouth, looking her right in the eye when she flips on her back to face you, watching you slip your fingers into your mouth to taste her.

You lick your lips after, and wink at her. You lean over, hovering on top of her and resting a thumb lightly on her cheek, brushing it. “You taste delicious.”

She grins, biting at her bottom lip.

You lean down, your lips against her ear and your breath hot. “But now, I think I want a real taste.”

She cranes her neck back at your words with a subtle groan. She lifts her arms to rest around your shoulders, wrapping loosely around your neck to sink her fingers into your hair, cupping the base of your skull. “I’d really like that.”

You grin.

“But first, I’m going to kiss you.” She states.

Her eyes slide closed and her mouth finds yours and it’s everything. Natasha is a magnificent kisser, you discover. Her lips are soft and plump and they mould perfectly against your own. Her teeth sink gently into your bottom lip, and she licks into your mouth, sliding her tongue along yours as you groan against her. Your thigh slips between her legs as she gasps, pulling away to breathe.

You tilt your forehead against hers, a dirty smile on your face. She copies it unintentionally, tugging at your hair lightly and leaning in to kiss you again.

“Y’know,” she begins. “You could have just made me a coffee to solve the situation.”

You laugh against her lips, moving to press softer kisses down her neck.

“Yeah, well,” you murmur. “You said it yourself. Why would I ever waste an opportunity to get my hands on you?”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Your lips trail down her body, over her stomach. Your fingers slip into the waistband of her panties, and you press a kiss to the inside of her thigh. “And what I like to hear, are those pretty moans of yours.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut #natalia romanova #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #tag: smut

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hogwartsfirebolt · 4 years

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Aaaand we’re back!!! I can’t believe it’s been a year since the last time I found myself typing one of these, but here we are, and WHAT. A. YEAR. Full of the highest ups and the lowest downs and through it all, so, so many wonderful stories that have made this my best reading year in fandom, ever. If you’re interested, in no particular order, I’d like to share some of my absolute favorites with you ❤️ Banner art is by the immensely talented @upthehillart and with nothing else to add, here’s my

FAVORITE FICS I READ IN 2019 PART ONE

1. Grounds for Divorce - @tepre - 122k - Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter. A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

This is the only thing on this list that is actually in order because DAMN. Because HOLY SHIT. This is my absolute favorite fic of all time and that’s not... I’m not exaggerating. I have INFINITE things to say about it, and actually, I have. Let me refer you to my long, gushy rec specifically about this masterpiece and just BEG you again to read it because it’s beautiful and it will change you and and and-

2. amid this warm and steady sweetness - warmfoothills - 21k - Harry is not living in a period drama, no matter what his friends or his new house or Malfoy’s sudden affinity for horse-riding might suggest, and if one more person uses the word courting, he’s going to start hexing people.

This is just beautiful. Every word feels like it’s been laid down with gentleness and the entire setting is vibrant, sweet, so lovely it’s almost palpable. I had never read anything for this pairing that was modeled after a period drama, and it was perfectly done, it made me laugh at the outfits and the teasing and the ridiculous situations all around, and go “awww” when it became sweet and now I just want to keep it close inside my heart. You simply have to read this.

3. Star Quality - who_la_hoop - 118k - Two years after the war, and Harry’s content with his life. OK, so it’s a little annoying that he keeps winning Witch Weekly’s Most Eligible Bachelor award, and he’s really not looking forward to the unveiling of an enormous gold statue of himself, but he loves his friends, and he loves being an Auror. And if he yearns for something more, something he can barely bring himself to think about, well, he’ll probably get over it. No one’s happy all the time, are they? But then everything changes, and Harry’s thrown into a new and dazzling world he’s not sure he can actually escape from. And as time goes on, he starts to wonder: does he actually want to?

Incredibly creative and executed so masterfully that I couldn’t stop reading and finished it in a day. Features a fed up Harry (always appreciated in this house), alternate realities, concerts, retail jobs, wishes upon stars, balloons, boys not knowing how to communicate but still inevitably falling in love, and just hours and hours of FUN.

4. And One To Play - @tackytigerfic - 21k - Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are the best team in the Auror Department, even when they're driving Gawain Robards up the wall. When Malfoy is injured on a mission, it causes Harry's magic to go haywire. Meanwhile, a mysterious criminal is draining people's magical cores and turning them into Squibs. Can Harry stop blowing Malfoy away in time to solve the case? And will Malfoy ever stop trying to get the last word?

GUYS THEIR DYNAMIC IN THIS ONE IS JUST PERFECT. The author wrote this absolutely incredible relationship where they trust each other and have so much fun and are so perfectly attuned to each other and I just sucked it right up because it’s so good. The case is interesting and engaging, Harry’s little predicament makes such a mess, and still their dynamic and friendship is the backdrop of it all. This fic is a really, really good time all around.

5. That Old Black Magic - @bixgirl1 - 77k - Centuries ago, marriage contracts were the norm — ready-made alliances between families, expected and complied with, without complaint. But norms have a way of changing, and when a long-dormant contract flares to life, Harry has to navigate an unexpected splintering of the path he'd thought would be easy after the war... with Draco Malfoy.

Reading this was one of the best moments of my entire year. I read it in a day, couldn’t put it down because the writing and the pacing and the dynamic are so incredibly good it blew my mind a little bit. It’s a slightly different take on the arranged marriage trope than what I was used to, and I loved it so, so much. It might be my favorite fic of Bix’s, ever.

6. On a Clear Day - saras_girl - 41k - Draco Malfoy is waiting for his real life to begin, and it appears that he’s not the only one. Coffee, charity, and the wisdom of the elderly.

!!!!!! That’s all I can think to say!!!! In trying to read ALL of saras_girl fics I have found such ABSOLUTE GEMS and this is definitely, definitely one of the best of them in my opinion, it’s just so incredibly lovely in every way and I’m so weak for when they slowly let themselves be vulnerable with each other the more they get to know each other, and help each other be brave and !!!! again. This paints it so beautifully I just want to read it again and again.

7. Renaissance - dysonrules - 33k - Harry awakens after a long sleep to find things terribly changed. He's not in an alternate universe... it just seems like it.

Surly, moody Harry is a weakness of mine, and the way he navigates the extremely difficult situation he finds himself in in this one was so interesting to read. I always do love Draco being capable and good at what he does, trying to become a better person through his work. A really, really good fic with fantastic characterizations and a plot that kept me on my toes the whole time. Definitely recommended.

8. At the End of the Day - sara_holmes - 7k - No brooms, a distinct lack of balls, no comprehension of the offside rule and a Malfoy who apparently has magic feet. Harry never knew this stupid game could be so much fun.

This fic is so light, so lovely and young that I went back to it over and over again during the year. It carries that feeling of tentative new beginnings, letting go and reconnecting with those around you after going through terrible things, all of that in a way that never loses sight of the fact that they’re still teenagers and still deserve some fun and light in their lives. So, so cute.

9. take my hand once more - @candybarrnerd - 8k - Harry finds himself standing in front of the door to the Room of Requirement with no memory of having walked there or having walked past the required three times either.-Everything feels like it's falling apart, his second marriage is failing, and he would actually kill for a decent nights sleep, which must be why the Room of Requirement provides him with the solution of a bed when Harry steps through the door. When he wakes though, he finds it's so much more.

Oh god I ache just remembering this. It’s so, so good. Every word paints every feeling so effectively that I felt it etched into my chest and all of Harry’s love for Draco was mine and his sorrow was mine and what he felt after the Room of Requirement gives him what he needs is what I felt too and I was just broken and repaired completely in 8k words in the best way ever. You MUST read this now.

10. Eternally Consistent - @alychelms - 44k - Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter assumed they would never be anything but civil enemies, until Potter lands on Malfoy's doorstep, bleeding, covered in curses, and acting very strangely indeed.

THIS IS EXCELLENT, REMARKABLE, EXTRAORDINARY!!! Omg every word, I swear every word had me on the edge of my seat and you see that time turner tag? Do you see it? It’s played in the BEST possible way, the case is so freaky and incredible and the work with the destroyed time turners and those... wizarding physics applied to it were so incredibly interesting. The characterizations are delicious, every moment Draco and Harry work together is fantastic, and in the end, when everything falls into place, it’s perfect. I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. 1000000/10.

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Each of these fics is incredibly close to my heart and I enjoyed them immensely. I hope they bring you all joy as well, and I’m ALWAYS here to gush about any of them ❤️ Happy holidays!

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fic recs #ficrec #2019rec #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry rec list

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cyhyr · 3 years

Text

Summer of Whump Day 24: Stitches

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: T

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi & Umino Iruka; Uzumaki Naruto & Umino Iruka

WC: ~2530

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Notes: Stitches, performed without anesthetic. Dissociation. PTSD. References to past non/dub-con between Mizuki and Iruka.

A/N: Heyyy I did a tiny bit of research, watched a video on how to perform these kinds of emergency stitches, and Have Never gotten stitches before in my life, anesthetic or no. I just wanna hurt the man, is that so bad lol

Two days after Mizuki puts a fūma shuriken in his back, showing his true colors and betraying the village, Iruka leaves the hospital because he is sick of laying on his stomach. The medinins refuse to heal him any further, saying that his body needs to help put itself back together without the use of chakra; still, though, they want him to stay for at least a week, so they can keep an eye on his stitches. Iruka knows how to care for stitches. And so, with minimal pain medication and Naruto’s begrudging assistance, Iruka signs his discharge forms and goes home.

The next day he goes back to work at the Mission Desk, as the Academy is on break for another two weeks before the next term starts. The work is physically simple, if stressful in other ways. There really should be refresher courses for shinobi with terrible handwriting.

The problem happens on his way home. And it’s really the dumbest thing.

A stray cat gets underfoot. Iruka stumbles. He twists just enough to catch himself before he falls, and feels some of the threads holding his back together rip.

He’s proud of the fact that he holds back any outward expression of pain. He’s also proud that he makes it the rest of the way home without attracting any attention or getting any odd looks.

Iruka heads straight to the bathroom once he’s home, and is able to shrug off his flak vest easily enough. There’s a spot of blood on the inside, soon to set into a stain. Iruka can’t be bothered. He tries pulling his shirt over his head and grits his teeth at the flash of pain—nope, that’s not happening. Instead, he pulls a pair of scissors from the vanity drawer, sighs for the hopelessness of needing to replace this shirt later, and cuts the fabric off of himself.

Once his shirt is in pieces on the floor, he turns around and looks over his shoulder as best he can to observe the damage. He’s bleeding sluggishly through the ripped threads, and the skin has split again. He should go to the hospital.

He really doesn’t want to go back to the hospital. It’s only been a day.

But he can’t fix this himself; if it were on his arm, or leg, or hell even his chest or stomach, he could do it. In the middle of his back, however? That’s just—

“Iruka-sensei, I’m home! And I brought Kakashi-sensei! He said he was going to have soup for dinner so I invited him! Who has just soup for dinner???”

Oh, shit. He forgot about Naruto coming over. He forgot about giving Naruto a key and teaching him the wards. And of course, Naruto invited his jōnin-sensei—which normally wouldn’t be a problem! But he can’t go out there like this.

Fuck.

Naruto knocks on the door. “Iru-nii?” He’s quiet, which is how Iruka knows that Naruto is worried about him. “Is everything okay?”

His instinct is to say yes, of course I’ll be right there but he doesn’t want to lie to Naruto. He’s not okay, and he won’t be okay if he can’t get his back—

Wait.

Kakashi.

He’s not considering this. He barely knows the man! But then, wouldn’t that make it easier to ask for a clinical, clean, stitch me up please with no weird feelings?

Naruto knocks again. “Iru-nii?” The handle jiggles like he’s about to open it.

“I’m… I—Actually, could you. Um.” He braces his hands against the vanity. He can do this. He gets it all out in one large exhale: “Can you send Kakashi-sensei in here, please?”

Naruto seems to pause—maybe even thoughtfully—outside the door before he runs back to the living room. Iruka whines through his teeth as his back continues to bleed sluggishly. He can hear the two of them talking in the apartment, Naruto’s voice getting louder as he comes back to the bathroom.

“Please, can you just—?”

A soft knock. “Iruka-sensei?” Kakashi’s voice is just as soft.

“Come in, please,” Iruka groans. “Don’t let Naruto in,” he adds quickly.

Kakashi steps through the door and shuts it behind himself. He crosses the bathroom in two steps and stands behind Iruka, examining the wound. He lets out a low hum. “I thought you’d be on bedrest for at least another week, sensei,” Kakashi comments. “I heard this was serious.”

Iruka ignores him. “There’s a suture kit in the cabinet above the toilet,” he says instead. “Is there any chance I can have you—?”

“Why not just go back to the hospital?”

“I… Gods, Kakashi-sensei, I hate it there. It smells wrong and everyone looks at me with either distrust or pity and I. I can’t. Please.”

Kakashi doesn’t respond verbally, but does go to the cabinet and remove the suture kit. He pushes his hands around Iruka, into the sink, and washes up; then he finds a washcloth, wets it, and carefully drags it along the skin around the wound.

“You still may have lost a significant amount of blood, sensei. You should—”

“I’ll take an iron supplement,” Iruka shakes his head. “Just. Close it back up, please.”

“There’s no anesthetic in here.”

“I know,” Iruka says sheepishly. “I used it up last time Mizu—well, I never got around to replenishing it.”

“I don’t know the medical ninjutsu to numb the nerves,” Kakashi warns. “This is going to hurt.”

“I’m aware. Just. Do it.”

He can feel Kakashi prodding softly at his back with the forceps, the metal cool against his skin. He prepares himself for the worst.

It’s been at least a year and a half since Kakashi has had to give someone else stitches. He sets the forceps aside, back in the kit, and selects a pair of gloves.

“No latex allergy?” he asks, to confirm.

“I wouldn’t keep them in the house if I had one,” Iruka grumbles.

Kakashi hums and pulls his own gloves off, replacing them with the latex. “Five stitches in total, sensei,” he says, assessing the length of the exposed injury. “You popped four, but I learned a different method of stitching; I’ll need to make five to cover the same distance.”

Iruka nods. “Whatever you need to do.”

“Do you have something to bite?”

Iruka nods, reaches up and pulls his hitai-ate down his face, and back to his mouth. Kakashi notes that he doesn’t put the metal plate in his mouth—either he’s had this done before, or he’s not stupid.

Kakashi loads the needle, picks it up with the driver, and presses the tip of the needle against Iruka’s skin. “Last chance to go to the hospital,” he says.

Iruka groans through his makeshift gag and shakes his head. Once he’s still again, Kakashi drives the needle into his skin, turns his wrist, and pulls the first half of the stitch out of the right side of the wound. Iruka’s curse is muffled, but what Kakashi can determine sounds… creative?

He’s careful in pulling at the wound with the forceps, placing the needle precisely and piercing the flesh. Another turn of his wrist has the needle point rising up through the skin. He shifts the grip and pulls the needle through, letting the suture thread follow.

Iruka is statue-still, but whimpering behind his gag. It’s… gods it’s impressive, how still he holds himself through such biting pain. Then again, he is a shinobi—even if he’s a teacher now, Kakashi remembers pulling field work with Sandaime’s newest pet. Pain is just part of the job.

That doesn’t mean they can turn their nerves off.

Kakashi loops the thread and ties it off, settling the knot on the left. Twice more he knots the thread to keep it from coming loose again. He might not be a medic, but his stitches don’t pop. ANBU was good for something.

“That’s one,” he mutters and readies the driver again on the right. Iruka nods, and he continues the stitching.

As he’s tying off the second stitch, he notices that Iruka’s shoulders are, perhaps, too still. He glances around Iruka’s body (he thought the man would be slight and yes, he’s smaller than Kakashi, but they’re built similarly and that’s not important right now damnit) and notices that Iruka is barely breathing.

He sets his tools down and puts one hand on Iruka’s abdomen. “Breathe,” he orders. Iruka immediately sucks in a breath, pushing on Kakashi’s hand. He nods, saying, “Very good. Keep breathing through it. You’re doing very well.”

He picks back up the forceps and driver, not realizing the effect his words have on Iruka.

The needle bites into his back for the third stitch and Iruka breathes deeply through his nose. The pain is sharp and intense and combined with the ache of the rest of the shuriken wound and how recent Mizuki’s betrayal is on his mind… Iruka’s worried that he’s going to slip away like he used to in the last few months of his and Mizuki’s relationship. Before he had threatened Naruto one too many times and Iruka asked him to leave and not come back unless he can respect both of them.

(Mizuki hadn’t come back. He, instead, had gone and gotten engaged. Turns out Asuma-nii-san was right when he’d said that Mizuki was using him.)

(That was over a year ago. He doesn’t cry himself to sleep anymore.)

The needle comes up the other side and Iruka braces for the oddity of thread sliding through his flesh. Then the discomfort of the wound being pulled back together.

Kakashi is good at this, though. He uses even pressure the whole time, so Iruka can be sure exactly how much it’s going to hurt.

“Three done,” he says. “It’ll be over soon. You can take it.”

Mizuki used to say stuff like that.

Just a little more, baby. I know it hurts, but you can take it.

Iruka fights to stay present. The needle goes in, and in, and out and out; thread slides along the way it’s guided.

Aww, ‘Ruka, you gonna cry from a few stitches? I thought you were stronger than that.

He whimpers. He can’t have an episode in front of Naruto’s jōnin-sensei. But this was an unfortunate perfect storm of pain and soft words and harsh action but gentle hands and. And. And.

He breathes in. And out.

“There we go, that’s it,” Kakashi murmurs behind him.

His eyes lose focus. He needs to stay still because Mizu—Kaka—because… The pain is dull compared to the ringing in his head and the throbbing in his teeth. He can feel his heartbeat in his neck.

He tries to get out a warning. That he’s about to slip. He’s dissociating. He’s—

“One more knot,” he mutters. “You’ve done very well.”

Kakashi finishes the final knot and snips the thread to size. There are surgical dressings and tape in the box alongside the suture kit; he tapes a large dressing into place over the whole wound, not just the new stitches. The latex gloves come off and fall into the garbage beside the sink.

Iruka hasn’t moved.

He puts his hands on Iruka’s shoulders and turns him around; takes the hitai-ate out of his mouth and lets it rest around his neck. Iruka is… dazed? His breaths are shaky, uneven; what the hell…?

“Are you okay?”

Iruka nods slowly. Maybe the pain made him non-verbal. Kakashi’s known shinobi for whom it’s happened before.

“You took that well. I don’t know many shinobi who would get that many stitches without anesthetic outside of a field situation.”

“Thank you,” Iruka says drowsily.

That wasn’t exactly the answer he was hoping for. Umino Iruka is known for having a smart mouth and a quick wit; this is something else. “You should eat something.”

“Not hungry.”

“Something light, then.” Kakashi tugs him along by his elbows, says, “Your bedroom, out and to the right?” Iruka freezes, for less than a second. It’s enough for Kakashi to notice; he hastens to explain, “You need a fresh shirt, yes?”

Maybe a sense of normalcy will bring him back. Should he treat Iruka differently in this…

Fuck, the man’s not even looking at him. He’s looking at their feet. He’s trembling.

Trauma response, his ANBU training supplies. Fuck.

He takes Iruka’s hands, over-projecting his movements, and says, “Let’s get you dressed, and then you can sit with Naruto for a bit?”

Iruka’s like a doll as he follows along into his room, and sits primly on the edge of the bed. Like he’s ready to slip off at any moment—shit.

Kakashi ducks his head out of the room and yells down the hall. “Naruto? Come over here.”

The door next to his hand opens up and Naruto stands in the doorway, clearly stressed and worried. “Is Iruka-sensei okay? What happened? You guys were in the bathroom forever!”

Kakashi holds up a hand to stop the rambling. “He’s alright, I think. He’s—well, something unrelated to what I—”

Naruto pushes by him and into Iruka’s room. He clearly takes in Iruka’s shirtlessness and position on the bed to mean something else, because he crosses to Iruka and pulls the man into a hug. Then, he glares at Kakashi.

The Fox glares at Kakashi.

“You! I trusted you! How dare you touch him like that—!”

The fury is rising fast, and Kakashi needs to do damage control before real damage becomes a problem. He raises both hands and tries to placate Naruto, explaining, “Iruka asked me to fix his stitches. The trauma response is unrelated to me, I swear. Naruto, I didn’t touch him without his consent.”

The heat in the room settles a little, as it looks like Iruka leans into Naruto and maybe even mutters his name. Naruto looks away from Kakashi, his eyes still exposing the Fox, and he grits, “Second drawer down,” while pointing at a chest of drawers against the wall.

Kakashi moves carefully—he’s not sure yet how much of the Fox is out of the seal’s control and he doesn’t want to risk it. The second drawer has a selection of uniform shirts and also casual tees. Kakashi picks the topmost civvie tee and brings it to Naruto.

“That’s close enough,” Naruto growls when he gets to the end of the bed. He’s three paces away. He’s not positive that it’s far enough to make a clean retreat should Naruto determine him to be a threat. He tosses the shirt the rest of the way, and watches while Naruto helps Iruka into it.

“I’m going to go and find him something light to eat. Stay with him?”

“Of course,” Naruto growls. “You don’t need to ask.”

“Naruto…” he hesitates, not sure he wants to know, but is too curious to not try and ask. “What happened? Who—?”

“You can ask Iruka-sensei when he’s back,” Naruto says.

It’s telling enough that Naruto understands what’s going on, that Iruka is dissociated and not present. Kakashi heads out of the room with a nod. Someone who inspires this much rage from the Fox, and who Naruto is comfortable enough with to call “brother”?

Kakashi absolutely intends to find out everything he can about this man.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump24 #stitches #fanfic #hatake kakashi #umino iruka #my writing

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impala-dreamer · 4 years

Text

Rules Be Damned

SPN FanFic

~Look, in this line of work, something's always getting thrown at someone. There have to be rules. Rules that have to be followed. Unless, ya know, you need to break them...~

Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader, OFC

6,780 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Sex Pollen. DubCon-ish. Established Relationships. Fuck or Die. All the Smut.

A/N: This was based off an anonymous prompt from my One Day Only request line. Hope you all enjoy!

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Twigs broke under boots, branches gave way to waving arms.

The forest was loud that evening; wildlife screamed as they scrambled away from rushing bodies, birds overhead chirped in warning.

Three hunters with guns on the ready took on the woods like an invading army, stomping down grass, destroying bushes, kicking over habitats, unaware of the ecosystems dying around them. They were on a mission and they would not be stopped. People were dying, children disappearing. It was up to them to bring the terror that had befallen Silver Ridge to an end.

Y/N broke away from Dean and Sam, following her gut deep into the forest. She could have sworn she saw something move in the corner of her eye, and veered right when the guys went left. Now, even if she tried, she couldn’t see them through the trees; flannel and canvas was hidden by late summer greens.

The light was dying, sky turning golden ahead. Sun pulsed through the treeline like a strobe as she ran, trying to catch up with the phantom she’d seen.

Somewhere in the background, Dean yelled her name and she turned, nearly spraining her ankle as she stopped short, body moving towards his voice automatically.

“Dean?” she called back, but there was no answer, only an echo slapping her in the face. “Sam!”

The air shifted behind her and Y/N spun back around, catching a glimpse of the being she’d been chasing. The bastard was screwing with her. She was getting close.

“You wanna play games?” she asked under her breath, drawing up her pistol and taking a step. “We can play.”

She ran again, desperate to catch up with the monster. Every time she felt close, the fiend jumped further away. It was as if they were playing with a different set of rules; Y/N bound by earthly physics, and the target able to magically get around at will.

“Fuckin’ faeries.” Y/N stopped, out of breath and done with the chase. It was pointless anyway. “Coward!” She yelled, trying to incite the creature’s wrath. “Come out and fight me like a man!”

“Now, why would I do that?”

Y/N spun around in a full circle, eyes scanning the forest for the source of the comment. She held her breath as the air stilled around her, warming gently like the heat was finally coming up in an old house.

“Where are you!” she yelled, and finally, a figure appeared.

Awkwardly tall and too thin, with an alien yet beautiful face, the fae presented herself to Y/N. She wore no clothes that could be seen, but long golden hair covered her icy pale skin.

“Why would I want to fight like a man?” she asked, voice like a lullaby. “Men are not nearly as powerful as we women. It would be a disgrace to us both, to the fight itself, were we to act like men.”

Y/N couldn’t tear her eyes from the creature, enraptured by the halo of sunset that outlined her gentle curves; caught in the magic flowing from her pale pink lips, tranced by a voice too melodic and lovely to be real.

Somehow, she managed to blink enough to clear her mind. She raised her arm and took aim; gun trained on the fae’s head. “Why are you stealing the children!” she shouted, hoping her yell would bring the Winchesters to her aid.

The faerie smiled sadly. “We’re not stealing them,” she explained. “We’re giving them a new, better life. They want to be with us.”

Y/N grit her teeth and tried not to be pulling in by her sweet voice again. “You’re murdering their parents!”

“We do what we have to do.”

“So do I.” Y/N’s index finger pulsed on the trigger and she exhaled slowly, ready to shoot.

Before the muscles in her hand could contract, the fae struck in defense, shooting a single bolt of bright white lightning passed Y/N’s shoulder. It struck the tree behind her and Y/N looked up just as the canopy above came to life. Hundreds of pink flowers suddenly bloomed on the tree, aglow with sunset and magical dew. As she looked on, the flowers were illuminated in hot pink and blinding white light and the wind picked up, blowing the petals from their branches, raining down upon Y/N with a force that knocked her to the ground.

Her vision exploded in bright pink and red; the edges cut in snowy white. She felt the ground beneath her back, heard the rustle of leaves and petals, smelled the sweet perfume of exotic flora as she slipped into a warm dream.

A shot rang out, its loud boom echoing through the forest.

“Son of a bitch! Y/N!” Dean’s voice truly called out this time, but Y/N was nowhere to be seen. He’d clipped the fairy bitch, he was sure of it. A trickle of sparkling purple tainted the leaves where he’d last seen it. He ran a finger through the goo and grimaced. “What the hell is this? Blood? Come on. Next we’ll be hunting unicorns.”

Wiping the glittery blood on his jeans, Dean turned with his gun raised, squinting into the trees looking for the wounded fae. “Where’d you go, you stupid bitch!”

In response, Dean heard nothing but a faint moan from the forest floor a few paces away. Green eyes turned to a blanket of pink petals covering the ground, and a hand rose from the flowers.

“Y/N?”

He grabbed her hand and yanked, pulling Y/N up out of the thick mess of millions of pink flowers. She sat up and gasped, eyes wide and empty, lips parted and begging for air.

“Dean?”

He nodded and tucked his gun in his jeans, freeing up a hand to help her stand. “Yeah, Y/N/N. You OK? What the hell happened?”

She was covered head to toe in a faint dusting of gold and Dean wiped a bit from her cheek with his fingertips. She shivered at his touch and sighed. “Mmm. I don’t know,” she said, eyes rolling as if still stuck in a dream. “I...found the fairy and she...poof!” Y/N laughed at herself and looked up at Dean, patting his cheek with a glittery hand. “You shoot her?”

Dean sighed. “No. I clipped her. Bleeds purple, by the way. Like a freakin troll doll or something.”

Y/N giggled and pulled her hand away, leaving gilded fingerprints on his cheekbones. “Dean?” she smiled, licking her lips.

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna pass out now.”

He caught her as she fell, guiding her gently back down to the ground. “Well, crap. Sam!”

The younger, taller Winchester skidding to a halt a yard or so behind Dean. He scanned the perimeter quickly before rushing over to his brother.

“What happened?” Sam knelt and pressed his fingers to Y/N’s pulse.

“She’s not dead!” Dean snapped, shifting her carefully in his arms. “Just passed out. I found her buried under all these flowers.”

Sam pulled his hand back and rubbed his fingers together, looking at the golden dust inquisitively. “What’s all over her?”

“I have no idea- shit.”

As they looked on, the golden mist clinging to Y/N’s skin disappeared, pulled in deep through every pore until nothing remained. When the last bit was gone,Y/N’s eyes fluttered and she moaned happily, waking up with two handsome men looking down at her.

“Hello there,” she teased, voice dripping with honey.

Dean dropped his chin to look her in the eye. “You alright?”

Y/N smiled and dragged her hand slowly down his chest. “Yeah…” Her gaze dropped to the flannel under her fingertips as she rubbed it gently. “Wow, this is so soft.”

The brothers exchanged a silently worried look and Dean cleared his throat.

“Let’s get you back to the motel, huh?”

Y/N bit her lip and rubbed her forehead against his shoulder. “Mkay.”

The walk back to the car was nearly impossible. Y/N had to stop every few minutes to touch something. Trees, grass, flowers, rocks- nothing was safe from her hands and she was safe from none of it. Every new texture entranced her, every touch was electric. She was floating through darkening forest, high and in love with the universe, guided by a firm but careful hand.

When they got to the car, Y/N was nearly whimpering. It wasn’t just the firm pressure of Dean’s hand at the small of her back, or the luscious and oddly sensual textures of the world around her, but every step made her jeans rub against her inner thighs and it was driving her insane. By the time they reached the Impala, her pussy was throbbing.

Dean pulled open her door and nodded to the seat. “Why don’t you lay down? You look stoned.”

Y/N could barely hear him, her entire focus was drawn to the car. She ran her hands slowly across the curve of the roof and down to the trunk, biting her lip as the cool metal made her skin dimple.

“Y/N?” Dean watched her stop by the left taillight and rub herself against the car. She moaned as the hard steel pushed against her hips. “Y/N/N?” Her eyes rolled closed and her lip disappeared between a firm bite as she rocked forward again. “Hey!” He rushed towards her and pulled her from his Baby. “Are you… humping my car?”

Y/N laughed and slapped his shoulder hard. “You’re insane.” Her hand lingered on his arm and her eyes grew huge as the muscles beneath the fabric tensed. “You’re...so strong…”

Her chest heaved and Dean looked at Sam who simply shrugged and got in the car.

“Yeah...thanks. Get in.”

Inside was no better. The leather, the windows, the upholstered roof; Y/N’s touch was immune to none of it and every pass of her fingers made her body quiver. Everything felt so good.

Dean turned the engine and glanced in the rearview. Y/N was in the middle of the seat, head back, hands trailing down her extended neck. She hummed and chewed her lip, let her eyes roll back as the pleasure took over.

He swallowed hard as a wave of heat flooded his senses. “Shit.”

Sam turned to look at him. “You OK?” His turn continued and the sight of Y/N massaging her breasts behind him made his heart skip. “Oh.”

Dean nodded, practically drooling as he watched her reflection. “Yeah.”

“We should get back,” Sam suggested, hazel eyes desperate to stay locked on her lustful expression while his brain told him to look away.

Dean squirmed in his seat, hands suddenly caressing the steering wheel as Y/N dropped a hand down her stomach. “Yeah…”

When the zipper of her jeans fell, both men shook themselves awake.

“You OK to drive?” Sam asked, cheeks red and flushed.

“I’m always OK to drive.” Dean sneered at Sam but swooned as he looked away, feeling so aroused that it was almost painful.

From the backseat, Y/N moaned loudly and Dean accidentally looked back to see her right hand disappear into her blue cotton panties.

“Fuck.”

Sam snuck a peek too and regretted it instantly. He cleared his throat. “Drive.”

The twenty mile ride back to the motel was rather intense. Y/N had somehow stripped enough to slip two fingers into her cunt and the sound of her fucking herself was made Dean so hard his cock could drive if he unzipped.

Sam was deep into the lore on his tablet, but not immune to the wet slide behind him or the pitiful whimper as Y/N tugged on her nipples. She’d hiked her bra up above her tits so she could reach, and twisted hard until each side was sensitive and ruddy.

“God, I...fuck!” She could barely speak when they pulled into the parking lot, riding the edge with her feet spread and heels dug into the leather seat.

Sam hurried to his room, unable to sit in the car any longer listening to her symphony of ecstasy.

Dean refused to look back, knowing he’d never make it out of the car if he did. His hand kept creeping closer to his cock; every touch of his fingers on his thighs making his blood sing.

“Come on, Y/N,” he said, painfully sauntering to the back door. “Let’s get inside.” He pulled open the door and gasped.

Y/N’s fingers were knuckle deep, her wrist slick and shining, her mouth open in a silent cry.

“Fuck.” He pushed down on his erection, hoping to relieve it a bit, but all it did was make his ears ring. “Come on, baby, inside.” He reached for her but Y/N couldn’t stop the rhythmic pumping of her hand.

“Can’t...stop,” she whimpered, turning her lust-darkened eyes to Dean. “Feels too good. Too good...too good…”

Dean swallowed hard and took her free hand, noticing instantly how soft her skin was, how warm. “OK,” he said gently. “Just...um…suck on your fingers while we walk, OK? That will feel good, won’t it? You like doing that.”

Y/N grinned and nodded absently as she pulled her hand from her cunt, giving her clit one more tap before letting go. “Yeah. I like to suck,” she agreed.

Dean whistled. “I know you do, babygirl. OK, come on.”

He helped her stand, trying not to brush his hand across her firm nipples as he lowered her shirt; screaming internally as he tugged her jeans back up.

Y/N sucked on her fingers, rolling her tongue around and between, making the most obscene noises Dean had ever heard outside of a Skinemax pay per view. “‘M so ot, De,” she mumbled around her hand, spit leaking from the corners of her mouth.

Dean managed to get the key in the lock and shove the door open. “What?”

“I’m so hot!” she exclaimed, pulling her fingers away as she stumbled into the room. She tugged at her shirt.

“Yeah,” Dean sighed lustfully, watching her rip the clothes from her sweat-covered body as he shut the door. “You really fucking are.”

Once naked, Y/N sighed loudly, her entire body shivering as the air conditioner spit slightly cool air through the room. “I feel...so… good,” she slurred, fingertips plucking at her bottom lip. She ran a hand down her body and back up, squeezing her breasts as Dean watched on in awe.

His dick was painfully full, aching, crushed against his tight jeans. “Jesus.” He pushed his palm down against it and his jaw shook as a wave of pleasure hit his system.

“So...soft...so...hot.” Y/N turned and looked at Dean with crazed eyes, her mind flooded with lust. “You wanna touch?” she asked, slipping her right hand down between her thighs.

Dean’s tongue tried to escape, but he pulled it back as he cleared his throat. “You’re killing me, Y/N/N.” He looked away, falling down onto the ratty old sofa, hoping to catch his breath.

“Touch me, Dean,” she cooed, dipping her fingers inside her slick pussy. “Need you…” Her brows twitched and she pouted, spreading her knees just a bit so she could slide her hand in deeper. Every movement made her gasp in tiny breaths until her chest was heaving and Dean’s mind was reeling.

“I…fuck.” Unconsciously, he’d been rubbing his cock through his jeans, consumed with how good the simple touch felt. If he felt this good, she must feel even better. “No. No. Just… you’ve been cursed with something. Just ride it out, baby.”

Y/N bit her lip and growled. “Mmm...I could ride you.” She smirked and pinched her nipple hard, pulling it out as far as she could, watching Dean’s reaction.

He let out a heavy breath through puckered lips, almost in pain as she showed off for him. “Just lay down, will you? Shit.”

Still touching herself, Y/N backed up slowly until the bed caught her at the knees. She fell backwards, landing with a puff of blankets, and spread her legs wide. “Curse or not,” she sang, “this is...amazing.” She crooked her wrist and dug her fingers in deep, slowly petting her g spot as everything trembled. “God, I feel like… like… it’s so… mmm.”

Dean’s left hand was traveling upwards, gliding over his own stomach as he watched her thrash on the bed. His mind was clouded but his resolve was true. She was under a spell. There were strict rules about these sorts of things; there had to be. One or more of them were constantly getting hit with strange spells or picking up the wrong object at a crime scene. Something was always happening and without rules, there would be trouble.

“Dean…” She called to him, moaning his name again and again as her cunt clenched.

He bit his tongue and tugged at his nipples, only then realizing that he’d torn his layers away.

“Dean, I need you.” Her hips rocked.

His throat tightened. “Sam’s looking for a cure, I’m sorry, baby.”

Impossibly, she spread her legs even wider and rubbed furiously at her clit. “Please…”

“We…” Dean was panting around his words, fingers closing firmly around his dick. “We have rules, Y/N/N…”

"Screw...your...rules…" Her voice was weak, high and full of frustration. Her arms were growing heavy, tired from their work, but her arousal was only growing stronger. "Not like...we haven't…" Y/N choked on her words as a rush of bliss washed through her. "Fuck!"

Dean sank deep into the dusty couch cushions as he jerked his cock in time with her movements. He tried to stop, to pull himself out of it, but logic could only fight so hard. "I know, but… this isn't...there's…"

Y/N sat up suddenly, her eyes locked on his fat erection, lips wet with drool. "If you say rules again so help me." Her pupils dilated fully, her skin flushed. Y/N watched as his fist slid up and down, up...and...down…

"Dean."

She was on him before he could respond, and he blinked up at her in awe as she ran a pair of boiling fingers down his chest.

He hissed at her touch. "Jesus, why does that feel so good?"

Y/N's eyes sparkled with golden light and she sank to her knees in front of him. "Need your cock, Dean." Her voice was steady, monotone yet certain. He could hear how heavy her breaths were, feel their heat fan across his belly.

"We should wait...fuck."

He melted instantly, letting go of the rules when her lips brushed over his cock. She kissed the tip and looked up with eerily bright eyes, so happy that he was finally giving in.

"Need your cock," she said again, taking a longer taste. "Need to suck."

Dean dropped a hand to the nape of her neck and squeezed gently. "So...suck."

Again, a flash of gold lit her eyes, but Dean didn't notice. He was too lost in the push of her lips as they moved down his shaft, the hot slide of her tongue against his pulsing vein, the slight scrape of her top teeth over his head.

Y/N moaned as she worked; her legs spread, pussy dripping onto the ugly carpet. Every pass of her lips made her cunt hungrier, every satisfied groan from Dean made her suck harder. Her head was empty, thoughts drifting far into the background. Her vision swirled with gold and pink; everything was warm and delicious. Everything came back to sex.

"Need to fuck," she hummed, pulling away from Dean's cock with a loud pop of perfectly locked lips. She pumped him fast with both hands, licking at the tip like a lollipop. "Need to fuck...now."

Dean licked his lips and opened his eyes, looking down at Y/N with fully blown pupils. "Get up here," he growled, tugging at her arms to help her up.

He lost his breath as she sank down into his lap. Her body was so hot, skin so smooth, cunt so slick. Her thighs laid gracefully atop his, her hands curled around the nape of his neck. She kissed him slowly, tongue penetrating his hushed lips.

"Dean…"

His eyes flew open; green rimmed in gold. "Move." His teeth were clenched tight; his fingertips dug into her waist. "Now."

Y/N sucked at his bottom lip and rode him hard, using all of her strength to fuck herself on his thick cock. He clung to her back, holding her close, helping her move, utterly lost in the sensations that flooded his system.

Hot, sweet, wet, firm, soft.

Harder.

Faster.

Tighter.

"Need your cum," she cried; voice deafening against his ear.

Dean locked his arms around her and stood up, managing to turn towards the bed before stumbling forward. They fell together in a heap of sweat and lust; lips reaching, fingers clawing.

He slammed inside of her, pumping in languid strokes until she shifted beneath him, arching her back and lifting her hips just an inch. She spasmed around him, cumming hard, eyes gilded and wide, mouth a perfect circle of cherry red.

Dean's jaw twitched as he came, holding back a wild howl. Every muscle contracted, every nerve ending exploded with feeling. He doubled over, kissing her madly before rolling away, out of breath and exhausted.

The light dimmed from his green eyes and he smiled, drunk on the afterglow. “That was...wow.” He chuckled and scrounged around for the pillow, bunching it up beneath his cheek. “Rules be damned. Ha!”

Y/N was still squirming. Her fingers ran slowly up and down her sides, in between her thighs, over each breast. Her breath was steady but deep; chest rising and falling with dramatic dips that Dean missed entirely as his eyes fell closed.

“You OK?” he mumbled absently before letting out a snore. “I just gotta...take five…”

The heat was rising again and Y/N whined as she tugged on her nipples, forcefully rubbing her thighs together for a hint of friction. “Need cock...need to fuck.” Her words were crisp and pathetic, but Dean was well passed hearing her pleas.

Desperation brought her back to the sofa and Y/N climbed onto the arm, straddling the upholstered corner. Her thighs closed tight and she bent forward; bare tits grazing the old fabric. She moaned as her nipples responded, bit her lip as her clit rubbed hard against the arm.

“Need to fuck!”

Sam knocked but didn’t wait for an answer, walking in with his head down, his eyes glued to his phone. He scrolled upwards with his thumb as he spoke, making sure he was accurately relaying his findings.

“So get this, if I’m looking at this correctly…”

Y/N froze as soon as Sam began to speak, his deep voice churning inside of her and grabbing every ounce of attention. She stilled her rocking against the sofa and stood up, turning towards Sam as he shut the door behind him.

“...this tribe of faerie are mostly tricksters, and I think…”

Y/N licked her lips as her eyes flashed; golden and bright. She crossed the room quickly and was pressed up against Sam before he even looked up.

“...this curse was just a...oh!”

Her hand slipped up beneath his flannel, fingertips rolling over the hard lines of his abdomen. “Sam.” She whispered his name like a song, pushing her nakedness up against him.

Sam gasped, holding his breath as her hand dipped between his waist and his jeans. Her skin was hot, her touch soft and inviting. He suddenly felt… good.

“Y/N, stop." His tone was as weak as his resolve, and logic waned as her fingers brushed the base of his swiftly stiffening cock. "We...you're under a spell. Shit." Her palm pressed into him and Sam sucked his teeth. "Oh, god."

"Need you, Sam," she begged with a pout; firm tits rubbing against his arm. "Need to fuck."

A hand wrapped around the back of his neck. Y/N pushed up on her tiptoes, desperate to drag his lips down to hers. Sam gave in to the moment and looked down into her eyes, ready to let go just once and live in the moment.

Her fingers pulsed around his dick.

He bent down to her lips.

Her eyes glowed with golden light.

"Stop!" Sam pushed her away as gently as he could, forced back into reality by her preternatural gaze. "Y/N, we have to wait it out, OK?" He looked at the bed for the first time since arriving and saw that Dean had not had the same fortitude to hold back. "Shit."

Y/N cocked her head and poured. "Don't you want me?" she asked, presenting her hard nipples for him. She pushed her tits together from beneath, holding them up for his inspection. "Touch me, Sam." Her voice was strange to his ears, empty but rhythmic and for a moment, logic seemed a waste.

Sam stared at her breasts, his jaw slack, jeans tight.

Y/N took a step towards him. "Please, Sam. Need to feel you. All of you."

He lifted his right hand and she held her breath as it hovered over her chest.

"Need to fuck." The gold returned to her eyes. "Need to...cum."

"Shit!" Sam turned away, forcing himself to stay calm. His cock was aching already; laying long and hard against his thigh. His skin was tingling, begging to touch and be touched, but he pushed it all away with a steady breath. "You had been put under a love spell," he said, to her as much to himself. "It was just a distraction so the fae could get away. It will wear off, we just have to…" Y/N pressed herself against his back, hands sneaking around to have their way with him. "...we just have to…" Hot fingers reached up to brush across his nipples and Sam shivered. "...have to stay…" A small but determined hand curved over his erection, rubbing through the denim. "...strong."

Sam's eyes glazed over and his head tipped back as Y/N ran her hands over him. Like magic, she managed to pry the flannel from his shoulders, pull the gray tee up and over his head. She ran her lips across his skin; tongue tracing every line like it was her own. She felt so good, hitting every spot like he had given her a map to his arousal.

"Y/N…" His breath curled into her name.

Her mouth was wet on his hip bones; fingers tugging at his belt.

"Need your cock."

The monstrously mindless tone struck his ears and Sam snapped out of it again, immediately backing away. "No."

She rushed at him, pathetic and needy, yet filled with unnatural strength. "Need to fuck!" She grabbed at him, but Sam was stronger, grabbing both of her wrists to try and subdue her. "Need to fuck!"

"You need to calm down!" he countered, spinning her so that her hands were pinned behind her back.

Y/N let out a cry that nearly broke his heart. She thrashed in his grip, pulling so hard that Sam was afraid her shoulder would dislocate. "Please!"

He let her go and Y/N spun around.

"Sam. Please." Wide eyes went soft as she called to him, and suddenly, Y/N's entire frame began to crumble. Her shoulders slumped, her knees went weak, the ground began to rise.

Sam scooped her up before she fell and held her close. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he whispered gently into her hair. "It'll be over soon."

"Sam?" Her whisper snuck upwards from the cave of his arms, and Y/N slid a hand with it.

"Yeah?"

The hand closed around the firm muscles of his shoulder, massaging with salacious intent.

"Need you, Sam. So bad."

He inhaled deeply; the smell of forest and sweat in her hair making his eyes roll gently. Her head turned, cheek on his chest replaced by lips, and Y/N kissed her way across the broad expanse, enjoying every twitch of tanned flesh.

"Fuck me, Sam," she sang. "Need to fuck."

When she popped the buckle of his belt, Sam growled in annoyance, mad at himself for falling again.

"Damnit!"

It wasn't easy to tie her up, but he made it sound like a game.

Sam sat her down and lovingly drew his hands across her bare arms until he could cuff her wrists to the chair. She hummed in aroused excitement as he knelt before her and carefully tied each ankle, spreading her naked pussy wide, but taking away all ability for her to move. She moaned happily as he stood back up, her mouth watering as his open zipper came back into view.

"Kinky Sam," she teased, lips reaching for him as he made sure the restraints weren't too tight. "Needs to tie a girl up before they fuck. I can get into that."

Sam sighed. "No. We're going to wait this out."

Arousal turned to fear. "What? No." She tugged at her cuffs. "Sam. No. Need to fuck. Please!"

He shook his head sadly and backed away. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Why!” she begged, squirming as much as she could to break free. “Don’t you want me? I want you so bad, Sam. So bad. I need you.”

He turned away; he had to. There were rules.

Dean was still passed out on the bed, somehow sleeping through all of Y/N's yelling, so Sam sat on the sofa, out of her sight. He hoped being quiet and out of view would calm her down, but she only thrashed harder, screamed more desperately.

"It'll be over soon," he assured her again and again, holding his head up with a tired hand. "It'll be OK."

Eventually, she called, flailing lessening to a mild twitch every few seconds. Her entire body would jerk violently and then settle; her head would roll from side to side. When her moans softened to weak murmurs, Sam relaxed, sitting back against the couch.

"You're gonna be fine, Y/N/N. We're all gonna be fine."

Y/N's head dropped, chin resting on her chest, and Sam closed his eyes for a blessed second of peace.

"What's going on?" A groggy Dean sat up in bed and twisted at the waist to see Y/N tied to a chair. "What the hell, Sam!"

Sam looked up and then away quickly as Dean's naked ass met his eyes. "Dude. Pants."

Dean rolled his eyes but grabbed his boxers before rushing over to Y/N. "What did you do to her?"

"Me?" Sam sat forward. "Nothing. She came at me- well, kept coming at me. I- she's under a spell. I had to."

Dean looked her over carefully, green eyes growing wide with concern. "Sam, she's not breathing." Panic rose. "Y/N!" He slapped her cheek and she came back, sucking in a heavy breath. "Fuck."

Her eyes fluttered. "Fuck? Please."

Dean let out a brief sigh of relief then looked to Sam. "What'd you do?"

"I wouldn't touch her and she kept coming at me. I don't know." He rushed to her side and her entire body began to tremble.

"Need...to…" Y/N's eyes rolled to white and she panted, unable to draw in another normal breath. "Please…"

Dean's forehead creased down the middle as worry flooded his mind. "What's happening?" His hands hovered over her body, afraid to land and hurt her.

Sam pressed to finger to her throat and closed his eyes, counting. "Her pulse is weak. I…fuck, she's cold." He pulled away and Y/N screamed at the loss of his touch. Tears ran down her cheeks as she choked for lack of air.

"She's dying, Sam!" Dean dropped to the floor and set to untying her left ankle. "Y/N! Come on, baby, wake up." He placed a hand on her thigh and the trembling stopped.

Y/N's head rolled. "Please."

Sam felt her pulse again and looked at Dean, confused. "It's helping...keep touching her."

"What?" Dean sat back, his hand slipping from her skin.

Y/N whined painfully. Her pulse dropped.

Sam clenched his jaw and reached for her breast, closing his palm over the quickly cooling flesh. Her pulse picked up and her breathing slowed. She moaned happily and Sam shook his head.

"We need to fuck her," he said softly, rubbing her tit gently.

Dean hesitated. "Excuse me?"

Y/N's trembling turned to squirming as Sam rolled her nipple between two large fingers. "It's the curse," he told Dean. "We fuck her or…"

"Please, Sam," she moaned, chewing her lip. "Please."

"Or?"

Sam squeezed her. "Or she dies."

Dean's face ran the gambit of emotions, settling on amused concern. "You know... I just did. Why-"

"Maybe it wasn't enough?"

"It was more than adequate!"

Sam rolled his eyes. "For the curse, Dean."

"Oh." He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Well. Ok, then." He dropped his hand back to her thigh and Y/N hummed gratefully. Her hips lifted a bit and Dean's eyes were drawn to the wet flesh of her exposed cunt; juices flowing, lips swelling. His mouth watered. "Maybe she just needs to cum real bad."

Y/N's stomach tensed. She tugged at her cuffs. "Yes. Cum. Need to cum. Please!"

Gingerly, Dean ran his hand upwards and her skin warmed to the touch.

Sam’s fingers on her pulse registered the change and he nodded at Dean. “Do it.”

“Please, Dean,” Y/N whispered desperately. “Make me cum, please. Need to cum...so bad.”

His fingers slid into the crease of her thigh and Dean ran his thumb across her swollen slit. It was slick and Y/N moaned enthusiastically.

“Yeah. Please. Please!”

Dean pushed his thumb into her cunt and Y/N took in a deep breath, her eyes glowing bright as she looked down at the elder Winchester.

“Fuck me, Dean.”

He rocked forward on his knees and pressed his lips to her clit in a suckling kiss that made her hips shake.

“Yes. Please! Need to fuck. Need to cum!”

Sam felt her come back to life; saw the color flood back through her veins. As Dean rolled his tongue through her wetness, Sam let her go and slowly took a step back.

Y/N let out a painful whine. “Sam, no.” She struggled to reach for him, wrists tight against the cuffs. She turned her head towards him, lips puckering, eyes locked on his jeans. “Please!”

His cock swelled but he hesitated; the golden hue in her eyes the only thing reminding him that they were operating under magical circumstances. If it weren’t for her failing vitals, the entire scene might have been out of one of Y/N’s midnight, whiskey-fueled confessions, but it was all wrong.

A single tear escaped and trailed down Y/N’s cheek. Golden or no, her pretty eyes begged for him. “Don’t let me die, Sam…” Her strength ebbed and her head rolled; the tight in her shoulders and arms was fading, she was fading.

Sam took a breath. “I won’t, babygirl.”

The moment his cock passed between her lips, Y/N came back to life. She licked him until hard then sucked down everything he had to give her. Sam couldn’t deny the extreme sensation; there was something warmer, something softer, something more amazing about her tonight than ever before, and it wasn’t long before he was fucking into her mouth without regret.

Dean crooked his fingers deep inside her pussy and Y/N came, clenching around his knuckles. She stilled for a moment, but the whimpering returned; she needed it from both ends, needed to be so filled she couldn’t breathe.

With his right hand still massaging her cunt, Dean untied her ankles, distracting her with kisses and tiny bites on her inner thighs as Sam pulled away to open her cuffs.

They were careful to keep their hands on her at all times, at least one man doing something to her as they moved to the bed. If they were gone at the same time, she crumbled, blood pressure dropping, heart rate falling. They needed to keep her going just a little while longer.

“Need your cum,” she moaned, weak limbs thrashing on the bed as Sam helped her to her knees. “Need it so bad.” Her eyes rolled back painfully and Sam grit his teeth, gently shaking her back awake.

“Hey! Hey, hang on,” he told her, kissing her eyes back open. “Stay with us.”

Behind her, Dean gave his brother a grave look. “How much longer?”

Sam shrugged and lay back, pulling Y/N with him, safe in his arms. “I don’t know, just...just do it.”

Y/N sagged against Sam's chest, barely breathing. "Please. Need to fuck. Need your cum."

Brushing her cheek, Sam guided her eyes up to his. "Just hang on, you hear me?"

She nodded as best she could, and Sam shoved his tongue between her lips, revving her back up as if his kiss were electro shock. She breathed deeply and sat up on her own, clawing at his chest and moaning into his mouth.

Dean snuck up from behind and ran his hand firmly down her spine. "Come here, baby. I want that sweet pussy. Now." He slapped her ass gently and Y/N responded, walking backwards on her knees until Dean could take what he wanted. He plunged two fingers into her cunt and pumped slowly, covering his hand in her hot slick.

Sam's cock stood tall before her gilded eyes and Y/N took a taste, flicking at him with the tip of her tongue. With a smirk, Sam scooted down a bit and let her have it all, laying back as she closed her lips around him.

Dean fucked her steadily, his hands locked on her hips, thighs slamming firmly into her ass. Every thrust pushed her down onto Sam and every buck of Sam's hips in retaliation sent her deeper into Dean's thick cock.

She was in heaven, she was lost in the feeling; so full, so happy, so utterly and undeniably distracted. She screamed around Sam's cock as she came again, flooding Dean's cock and the stiff sheets below. Her cunt pushed and pulled at him until he couldn't hold back, and his head flew back as he came, adding to the mess at his knees.

Sam felt them both go and watched carefully as the gold dimmed in Y/N's eyes. He pushed a hand through her hair and held her in place, taking over as he reached his end. He jerked his hips hard, fucking into her tiny, hot mouth. Y/N moaned when he came, barely able to swallow him all down. It dribbled with her spit from the corners of her mouth, sliding less than gracefully down her naked body, pooling on the bed below.

She looked up as Sam pulled back and gasped, the golden light vanishing totally from her eyes.

"Fuck!" She held her breath as the room grew dark around her and collapsed into a heap between the brothers.

"Y/N!" Dean grabbed at her, carefully spinning her onto her back. "Y/N!"

Sam grabbed her wrist and sighed in relief. "She's fine. Pulse is steady." He turned away to grab his shorts and shook his head. "Ya know, we have rules for a reason, Dean."

Green eyes looked up from the bed. "I know the rules. She was dying!"

"She wasn't until you touched her."

"Excuse me?" Dean shot up from the bed, ready to fight. "I didn't do this. I was dosed too, if you don't remember."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "So was I."

"So maybe it was your fault for touching her!"

"You flat out fucked her ten minutes after getting back here."

Y/N sat up on her elbows and groaned at the boys. "You both fucked up!" she interjected, pulling the feuding hunters apart. "Now you're both gonna get over here and give me some goddamned aftercare!"

Dean laughed and Sam blushed.

"Yes, ma'am," Dean sang, hopping to get back into bed.

Y/N stopped him with a reprimanding hand. "Oh, no. You," she said pointing at Sam, "get me a wet towel. And you-" her eyes flew back to Dean, "are gonna go get me some food."

Dean pouted. "But...cuddles?"

Y/N laughed. "After pizza."

2020 Forever Tags:

@67-chevy-baby @akhuna01 @amanda-teaches @autumnmoon @because-imma-lady-assface @blondemarvelchick @blushingjared @broiderie @burningcoffeetimetravel @classic-rock-angel @coopercharlie16 @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @deansgirl215 @deans-baby-momma @deangirl7695 @deanwanddamons @deanwinchesterswitch @defenderrosetyler @desiree---1986 @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @edge-oftonight @emoryhemsworth @eternal-elir @fandom-princess-forevermore @fangirlxwritesx67 @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @herbologystudent252 @heycasbutt @hornyandsmol @ilovefanfic86 @i-love-superhero @ilsawasanacrobat @imjustadrummer @ivvitm1109 @joseyrw @justagirlinafandomworld @justcallmeasmodeus @katymacsupernatural @laxe-from-outer-space @leatherandfrackles @lessons-of-red @letsby @letsdisneythings @lonewolf471 @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @melbelle45 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @mummybear @onethirstyunicorn @our-jensen-ackles-love @screechingartisancashbailiff @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @starboycas @stephaniecanfield96us @stoneyggirl @squirrelnotsam @thebookisbtr @the-chocolate-moose @thehardcoveraddict @thevelvetseries @veevm @winchestersister55 @wendibird @winecatsandpizza @winterpoohbear

#spn fanfic #dean x reader #sam x reader #smut shot

427 notes · View notes

princess-of-riviaa · 4 years

Text

Meet Me, Love Me chapter 2: daddys_pr1ncess

Chapter 1: The Lieutenant

Pairing: Walter Marshall x OFC (Erin)

Series Summary: After meeting a woman on the dating site Meet Me, Love Me, Walter finds himself falling into a messy web of lies, deceit, and heartbreak.

Chapter Summary: Erin does her best to stay professional around Lieutenant Marshall, which doesn’t last for very long.

Warning(s): masturbating, spanking, slight angst

Word Count: 2,488

“Valdez, you’re with Lieutenant Marshall today,” Officer Romero says before continuing down her list of every intern’s daily task.

Erin’s eyes pop. Today is her first day of field training. She’ll get to be front and center to all the action, which is the entire reason she signed up to be an intern in the first place. She’s been looking forward to this day for weeks. But why are they sending her out with a lieutenant instead of a cop with a lower position and less important things to do? And why, of all people, did it have to Walter she’s paired up with?

“You’re the guy I’ve been sexting for the last month,” she’d said that day in the restaurant as she realized that Lieutenant Walter Marshall was the.lieutenant, AKA the man she’d been calling daddy for the last three weeks. She’d never wished to be swallowed up by the earth more than she had in that moment. “Wait--you’re the guy who’s been sexting me!”

Holy shit.

She spent her mornings taking this guy’s coffee order and her nights making videos for him to jerk off to. How the hell was she supposed to show her face at work now that she knew what his dick looked like, had practically memorized every detail of it after all the pictures he’d sent her of his hard-on?

“What the hell do we do now?” she had asked, not necessarily to him, but to anyone who was listening and had the slightest bit of an answer.

“The only thing we can do.” There’s a reluctance in Lieutenant Marshall’s--Walter’s voice that she’d never heard before.

For some stupid reason, she let herself hope. Hope that he would say something along the lines of I know this is probably breaking twenty HR rules but let’s keep talking anyways, now do you wanna go to my place and fuck? Call her a hopeless romantic, or a stupid idiot. She’s not sure there’s much difference. But her chest had tightened and her heart had fluttered in those few seconds between his sentences.

And then he said: “We can’t do this anymore. We have to stop talking right now. Neither one of us knew who the other was when we started this… this… whatever this was. But it’s over. It has to be.”

Of course, she understood why he did it. Not only was it wrong to keep doing it while they worked together, but he was about ten positions above her, and that made it even worse. He had to save his job and his reputation.

She understood the logic behind it. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Now, a week later, she’s being assigned to him for the day. The wound is still fresh. She still finds herself reaching for her phone to text him, only to stop herself when she opens the app and sees his username. She still reads their texts as she's lying in bed at night, feeling like a clingy idiot. They no longer riled her up now, they only make her start to cry. It’s stupid, she knows that. It wasn’t a real relationship. But she misses having him there, misses talking to someone at all hours of the day. So how the hell is she supposed to act professional around him today?

Once Officer Romero has given her instructions, Erin walks up to her and says, “Sorry, but I thought--”

The older lady holds up a hand, silencing Erin. “First, don’t ever start a sentence with ‘sorry, but..’. If you’re going to say something, you gotta mean it. I expect that kind of confidence in you before you pass your training.”

Erin nods. “Yeah, okay. Sorry. I mean… uh, I was just…”

Someone calls Officer Romero’s name and she excuses herself. Just as she starts to walk down the hall she passes Walter on his way in. She tells him that Erin is going to be under him today and--god, what is wrong with her for finding something dirty in that?--Walter stops in his tracks. He looks around the room until he spots Erin. She tries to give an apologetic smile but it feels more like a grimace.

This is going to be a long day.

An hour later, Walter has settled in, scanned through paperwork, had his three cups of black coffee, and Erin decides it’s time to head down to his unmarked Ford Explorer and wait for him. She’s in an actual police uniform today--normally she’s in sweats and a police t-shirt--and though it’s something that would make her giddy with excitement, the thought of spending her first day out in the field with Walter is killing her buzz.

Walter doesn’t say anything as he makes his way to his car and hits the unlock button on his keys. Erin slides into the passenger seat. Walter turns on the car and adjusts the AC and the police radio without even acknowledging her presence.

“So, I want you to know that I didn’t do anything,” Erin explains. “I didn’t say anything to anyone, Officer Romero just randomly assigned me to you--”

He silences her with a look.

She hesitates before adding, “I just… don’t want you to think that I’m not respecting your wishes. I’m not trying to make your job harder for you.”

His expression slightly softens. Slightly.

Erin doesn’t let her mouth get away from her this time. The car is tense and silent as Walter switches into drive and heads off down the highway. Erin doesn’t know where they’re going but he looks like a man on a mission so she doesn’t question it.

They spend the first two hours in silence. No calls come in. They just sit on a part of the highway directly between the two biggest cities in the area and wait for a call on the radio that never comes. Neither one of them speaks. Walter finally speeds off down the highway around eleven. Erin thinks he’s been notified of a crime that she isn’t aware of, and is slightly disappointed when they pull into a McDonald’s drive-thru.

“What are we doing here?” she asks.

He ignores her as he pulls up to the window and orders half the menu. He doesn’t even ask if she wants anything before finishing the order.

“Walter?” she asks, then quickly corrects herself. “Er, Lieutenant Marshall?”

He still ignores her. Once he’s paid and gotten the three bags of food, he drives back to their waiting point along the highway. Erin can only stay quiet for a few more minutes.

“I’m putting in a complaint when we get back to the station,” she tells him.

He finally looks at her, giving her a look that says, why the hell are you going to do that?

She just stares at him with a look of her own. If you want me to explain myself, you’ll have to talk.

“Why are you putting in a complaint?” he sighs.

“You’re being completely unprofessional.” Normally she’d be too shy to speak to an officer like this, but she’s had enough of the stupid chip on his shoulder. Plus, he’s seen her naked, so there’s nothing left to be shy about with him.

“I’m not doing anything,” Walter protests.

“Exactly!” Erin agrees. “The point of taking me with you is to teach me stuff. We’ve already wasted half our shift and you’ve taught me nothing, except that you eat enough for a family of four!”

“I only eat once a day,” Walter argues, like that changes anything.

Erin rolls her eyes. “That’s not the point.”

“And what is your point? Do you actually have one or do you just feel like yelling?”

“My point is that you’re discriminating against me,” she says. “You’re letting the whole ‘Meet Me, Love Me’ thing get in your head and you’re using it as a wall between us. You can ignore me for the rest of your life. Fine. But not today. You don’t get to not teach me just because you regret our relationship. So act professional and teach me, Walter!”

He doesn’t say anything. Erin opens her mouth to yell at him some more, when she recognizes the strange new look on his face. His eyes are glazed over and his mouth slightly parted as he stares at Erin’s mouth like he’s under a spell. Erin’s face burns as she realizes what he’s no doubt thinking about: she likes to be a brat sometimes just to get a reaction out of him. He punishes her accordingly every time, but it’s the hottest thing to both of them. Walter loves laying down the law--his law--and Erin loves being punished. Intense heat wets her panties and she squeezes her legs together. He notices. His gaze jumps to her legs immediately and he fucking licks his lips. Is he trying to kill her?

“Walter--” she says, her voice shaking, but Walter’s phone goes off before she can say anything else.

He answers the call and, just like that, the moment is over.

“I’m needed back at the station,” he explains as he hangs up the phone. That’s all he says for the rest of the drive.

…

That night, after enjoying a couple glasses of wine, Erin locks herself in her room, away from her roommates, and decides to watch Pornhub on her laptop. She hasn’t needed to do this in a while; usually sexting with Walter is enough to make her satisfied. So having to look up adult videos is just another bitter reminder that whatever they had--a fling? A relationship?--is done. She may or may not have pulled up her Meet Me, Love Me messages with Walter beforehand, reading through their own conversations as a strange form of roleplay.

What she does do, however, is hit the record button on her phone without realizing. Once she shuts her phone off for the night, it automatically stops recording. And somehow, either through her tipsiness or her fatigue, she hits send. The video of her masturbating--and moaning Walter’s name as she cums--goes straight to the lieutenant himself.

…

The next morning, Walter drags her into a windowless janitor’s closet, his nails digging into her arm. He’s never been rough with her before--occasionally he’ll use harsh words when she’s been acting like a brat, but they’ve never been in physical contact for this to happen, and she has a strange and possibly psychotic gratefulness that his touch will leave bruises on her arm, a reminder that he’s not just some figment of her imagination.

“What kind of game are you playing?” he growls in a whisper-shout, cautious of the people on the other side of the door.

She has no idea what he’s talking about. She says as much.

“Don’t play dumb with me, you dirty little brat,” he spits.

Erin’s going straight to hell for the way those words--and his angry growl--sends heat straight to her core.

Walter continues, “That cute little speech you gave yesterday about wanting to stay professional… you don’t get to say shit like that and then send me videos like the one from last night.”

“What video are you…?” And then it hits her. She has no memory of sending him anything, no memory of even making a video. “Walter, I didn’t mean--”

He takes a step towards her, his shoes now flush with hers. Their chests brush against each other with every inhale. Erin has to crane her neck all the way back to look him in the eye. Dominance radiates off of him, as strong as his cologne, and fuck does it make her wet. She tries to keep her breathing steady, to not make it obvious that her heart is racing, but it gets harder the longer he looks at her with that anger in his eyes. It’s as terrifying as it is arousing.

Walter puts his hands on either side of her head, trapping her. His face is so close to hers that she can feel his breath against her cheeks. “You moaned my goddamn name when you came. You said my name--and you’re really trying to stand here and convince me that you hadn’t meant that video for me?”

“Walter--” Erin begins, her voice shaking, but she can’t get anything more than his name out before his hands are on her hips and he’s spinning her to face the wall. He presses his body against hers. His warmth envelopes her but it makes her shiver. She wants him. God, does she want him. She’d willingly let him fuck her right here and now, damn whoever might walk in on them.

“My name,” he growls in her ear, “is Lieutenant, got it?”

“Yes,” she whimpers. It’s taking every ounce of self-control to not beg him to fuck her. She can feel his erection against her ass; this is just as exciting to him. She wants that cock inside of her, moving between her walls and teasing her pussy, splitting her open as he enters her, fucking her so hard that she can’t walk after.

“Yes, what?” he spits.

“Yes, Lieutenant.” Her arousal is already soaking her panties. She wonders if he can smell it, the way she can smell his arousal.

“Good girl.” He’s really trying to kill her, isn’t he? He knows exactly what that praise does to her, how it makes her weak in the knees. “Now be good and don’t scream.”

Erin pauses, but before she can ask what he’s doing he yanks her pants down. She gasps, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as the cool air hits her asscheeks. And then she gasps again--for an entirely different reason--when Walter begins to knead her cheeks in his hands.

Her Latina heritage blessed her with curves, which includes a big butt. She used to be embarrassed of it her entire life. And then she started dating guys and realized they like touching her big butt as much as she likes it being touched. But Walter’s hands are big enough to make her feel small, even as he touches the biggest part on her body, and that does something to her that she’s never experienced. Something she can’t explain but she knows she likes.

And then he spanks her. His hands come down roughly on both of her cheeks and she gasps, more at the sound than the pain. But when the sting finally registers, it’s not completely unbearable. In fact, there’s something about the way her skin burns that makes it… addicting. She wants him to spank her again.

And he does.

Three more times, on each cheek. He doesn’t bother to be gentle with her. The masochist in her loves it.

And later, as she feels the ghost of his hands with every passing second, she smiles to herself. That video had been sent on accident, but she’d do it over again in a heartbeat.

***

Tag Squad:

@agniavateira @hnryycvll @littlefreya @celestial-vomit @lestersglitterglue @watermeloncavill @honeychicana @penwieldingdreamer @mary-ann84 @elixasays @buckysgoldenheart @noz4a2 @trippedmetaldetector @omgkatinka @lunedelorient @aphrodites-punch @yespolkadotkitty @sweetybuzz25 @iloveyouyen @deathonyourtongue @utterlyhopeful @wondersofdreaming @tsukuyomi011 @the-soot-sprite @desperate-and-broken @jayismz @emelinelovesjc @palaiasaurus64 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @henrythickcavill @secretlyactivated @madbaddic7ed @persephonehemingway @geralt-of-baevia @stargazingfangirl18 @thedarkplume @spookypeachx @pensieveforyourthoughts @aletheladyinred @littlemissthistle @designerwriterchic @becs-bunker @angelic-kisses13 @captainbigdy @sestrasasylum @radaofrivia @boundtomyfate @wednesdaybraids @harlotforhenry @radkesgirl83 @xuxszx @kitkatd7

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#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #walter marshall #walter marshall smut #walter marshall night hunter #night hunter #nomis #henry cavill nomis

98 notes · View notes

cake-writes · 4 years

Text

Fever (Part One)

Pairings: Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader (mentioned)

Story Warnings: Cheating, Dubious Consent, Sex Pollen, Smut, Breeding Kink (if you squint), Angst, 18+

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Steve couldn’t. No, he wouldn’t. Not to his best friend’s girl.

Master List / Spotify Playlist

Two years today – your anniversary.

Not that it mattered, because the mission ran long. Even Steve didn’t get away from it unscathed, if the blood staining the shoulder of his uniform was any indication. You’d seen him hurt too many times over the years, but this time you felt guilty.

He’d gotten hurt keeping you safe.

His best friend’s girl.

Bucky must have returned to the compound by now, you were sure of it. He’d been radio silent for the last three weeks on an assignment god knows where, but what you did know was that he’d be getting back today; said he wouldn’t miss your anniversary for the world, the hopeless romantic that he was. Your hopeless romantic.

You might have gone a little stir crazy as the days dragged on, missed him a little too much – so you passed the time by going on quick in-and-out missions in hopes that you’d get home and find him there waiting for you.

He wasn’t.

Each mission wound up being no more than a couple of hours, tops, except this one. You and Steve had been trapped here for the last day and a half. Too many Hydra agents to count. Too many fights for survival. Pinned down by the enemy, the two of you barricaded yourselves inside a too-large server room where the walls were thick enough to offer a modest layer of protection: two feet of metal and concrete, meant to safeguard Hydra’s most sensitive data.

The worst part wasn’t even that you were missing your anniversary. No, it was that you’d yanked an empty syringe from Steve’s back about twenty minutes ago and there was no way of knowing what mystery substance it contained. He hadn’t even noticed it, either, which made you wonder what the hell kind of pain tolerance he had. The stupid thing was just sticking out of him, needle about three inches long and yet he’d been completely fucking oblivious.

How?

Thankfully, Steve seemed to be doing okay, all things considered. His wounds would heal, of course. They always did. They always would. You tried not to worry, but you still felt guilty, so much you asked for the umpteenth time, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, doll,” he said in exasperation, holding his cell phone and yours up toward the ceiling in hopes that one of them would pick up a signal. “I’ll let you know if anything changes, you know, like I said the last ten times you asked.”

You huffed a little as you attempted to access one of the computers, having already tried five of them with no success. “I just don’t like seeing you hurt. Especially when it’s my fault.”

He laughed at that, somehow, despite the fact that you were both trapped in here with no hope of rescue. No signal, no reception, no dice. Things looked pretty dismal, but he was ever the optimist. “I can already feel myself healing. Stop worrying, okay?”

Computer number six was also a failure.

Another twenty minutes passed, but nothing changed.

Well, at least, not that you noticed. Steve was burning up, but he didn’t say a thing – didn’t want to make you worry. He cared too much about you for that, cared more than he should have for his best friend’s girl.

Always had. Always would.

Sweat dotted his brow as he watched you try computer after computer to no avail. He just couldn’t tear his eyes away; even in the harsh fluorescent lighting, you were illicitly gorgeous, far more attractive than you should have been to him. Hair tousled, eyeliner smudged, tight black catsuit on your body ripped in too many places to count, cuts and scrapes and bruises peeking through – all superficial.

He didn’t like seeing you hurt, either, so when the heat creeped up his neck, he wasn’t sure if it was from concern, claustrophobia, or carnal attraction.

“Anything?”

Steve’s question was simple, but he barely even recognized the sound of his own voice. Strained. Rough. Maybe because his throat was so dry.

When you glanced up from the screen and over at him, he forgot how to breathe. Bright eyes and a beautiful smile, despite the less-than-ideal circumstances.

All for him.

Only for him, here, and sweet as sin.

“Nope,” you said cheerfully, popping the ‘p.’

That drew his attention to your mouth at the worst possible moment. As you focused back on the screen in front of you, you pulled your lower lip in between your teeth in thought, almost like you were trying to tease him, like you were trying to drive him out of his fucking mind. The sight shot straight to his groin; brought attention to the fact that his pants were starting to get just a little too tight.

Then you looked up again at the silence and caught him staring. Tilting your head to the side, you asked slowly, “Still feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” he rasped, and then he cleared his throat – tried to clear his mind, too, but it didn’t work. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Steve didn’t like to lie, but he didn’t have a choice. Not here. Not when he felt like this.

Your fingertips stilled over the keyboard as you studied his face a little more closely, and then you took a few steps toward him. “Are you sure? You look a little flushed.”

Your keen scrutiny only made him even hotter – made him want to escape before he did something he’d regret. He was already toeing the line.

But he couldn’t. No, he wouldn’t.

Not to his best friend’s girl.

With your approach came the heady scent of your perfume, and his resolve weakened even more – particularly when you pressed the underside of your wrist to his sweaty forehead. Your skin was far cooler to the touch than it should have been, and the physical contact sent a pleasurable chill through him.

“Something’s wrong,” you said with a frown, swapping your wrist for your palm, and then you brought both hands to either side of his flushed face. “You’re way too hot, Stevie.”

You spoke his name so softly, so gently – like a lover, like a balm.

Stevie.

On your lips, it sounded sweet as honey.

Steve’s temperature already ran hotter than yours because of the serum, but you were long used to it because Bucky was the same. Ironic, really, that the only person on the face of the earth who’d be able to tell the difference without a thermometer was who stoked the fire to begin with.

Well, you, and whatever the hell it was he’d been injected with.

“I’m fine,” he repeated, but the words felt foreign on his tongue. Wrong. He wasn’t fine. The way he leaned into your touch was evidence of that.

“Here,” your hand trailed down his back to help guide him to a nearby chair, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, “Sit down, okay? Tell me how you’re feeling.”

Ravenous. Touch-starved. Not fine at all.

Steve sank into the worn leather desk chair, but that proved even worse. Now he had to look up at you – look up at your pretty little face and try not to imagine how you’d look straddling him, taking every inch of his cock.

Yeah, like that was possible.

He’d break you. How Bucky managed not to was beyond him. You weren’t enhanced like either of them.

“I’m hot,” Steve finally admitted. “It’s hot in here.”

A flimsy excuse. Even he knew it wasn’t. Something was wrong.

“Really? I’m actually kind of cold.” With a smile, you made a show of briskly rubbing your arms, probably to make him feel better – and then you teased, “Maybe you can warm me up, huh?”

Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.

Your brows rose in surprise, but you laughed soon after.

Oh. Had he said that out loud?

He didn’t know. He didn’t care.

And it didn’t seem to bother you, either, because the concerned look in your eyes was still there and your jokes and laughter were a front. “Are you nauseous? Sick? Come on, talk to me. Please?”

Oh, he liked the sound of that.

Steve quickly found himself wondering if that was how you sounded when you begged for more, begged for release, begged for something only Bucky was lucky enough to give you.

Imaginary pleas of please, Stevie, please echoed in his ears.

His eyes closed as your fingers threaded through his hair – an attempt to soothe the ache settling into his bones, perhaps. You quickly stopped, however, and he only realized why when he looked back up at you.

When had he taken hold of your wrist?

“What is it, Stevie?”

Shit, honey, if only I knew.

But the words didn’t come. His tongue felt like lead in his mouth.

Steve noticed, then, how easily his fingers and thumb overlapped – how small and delicate you really were, not to mention how absolutely defenseless. Your eyes were impossibly soft as you gazed down at him with such concern, such care, that he somehow wrenched his hand away.

“I… I don’t feel right,” was what he finally settled on.

“Can you describe it?”

You were worried about him, he knew, but you should have been worried about yourself for entirely different reasons. With you so close, he had no choice but to breathe in the irresistible scent of you. It drove him crazy.

You drove him crazy.

Through gritted teeth, Steve managed a rough, “Just find a way to get us out of here.”

“But you’re—”

“Now,” he barked, and you immediately jumped into action at his harsh tone.

Thirteen computers and counting.

Another ten minutes, and you were on computer number seventeen. Still no dice.

In between hurried keystrokes, you snuck glances over at Steve only to find him watching you like a predator might watch its prey. It unnerved you a little. Eyes dark and breathing laboured, he seemed much worse than before – overheating, but you didn’t dare check his temperature again. Your stomach had been in knots since he raised his voice with you, or maybe it started when he grabbed your wrist – a firm grip, one that might have left bruises beneath your shredded sleeve.

Why were you so anxious?

This was Steve. Captain America. Your boyfriend’s best friend. He’d never hurt you, at least not intentionally and you had a feeling that all of this had something to do with the mystery substance running through his veins. He’d be fine.

That was when the computer dinged with a signal. At last. You might be able to get a message out, even if the reception was so poor. It was a short one, a quick and dirty ‘SOS’ along with your location. Command would send an extraction team for the two of you.

After you hit ‘send,’ you let out an audible sigh of relief. “Finally got a message through. Don’t worry, they’ll get us out.”

Something about that phrase snapped Steve’s resolve. He didn’t want to get out.

No, he wanted to get in.

That was when your back slammed against the wall, so hard that the impact left you gasping for air. “What—”

But you couldn’t finish that sentiment because Steve’s lips were on yours, hot and wanting and unfamiliar – not at all like how Bucky kissed you, how Bucky loved you more than anything.

For a moment, you froze up, absolutely stunned by what he’d done. You came to your senses quickly, though, and shoved him hard in the chest to get him to stop – but only after a few frenzied tries did he finally break away.

Breaths coming out in short bursts, you croaked, “What the hell?”

Steve swallowed the lump in his throat and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself against the wall with one arm above your head. His free hand came up to massage his temple, a distraction from the tightness of his pants. He’d caged you in – trapped you against him so deliciously and when he finally spoke, he sounded just as wrecked as he looked. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“I’m with Bucky,” you hissed, voice wavering. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Angry words laced with fear. He didn’t blame you.

But he couldn’t stop himself when his eyes dropped back to your mouth, and in an instant, he found himself wanting another taste, another touch. The fever burning hot fire through his body made it impossible to ignore, let alone resist any longer. What little self-control he had was gone.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” he choked out, and then his hand was in your hair, too-tight grip allowing him to pull you in for another kiss. This time he was much less forgiving, almost bruising your lips in his need for you – lips so soft and pliable and his.

Steve overpowered you with such ease, especially when he swept his tongue into your mouth to sample your sweetness straight from the source. Scalp stinging painfully, you put up a fight, at least until he gathered both your wrists in one large hand and pinned them none-too-gently to the wall. Pain – not a lot of it, but enough to sting, to smart, to leave more bruises.

No matter how hard you struggled, you couldn’t break free.

Of course you couldn’t. You weren’t strong enough. Not against him.

You attempted to knee him in the groin anyway, a last resort, but he easily deflected it by shoving one of his thighs in between yours. Thick, corded muscle pressed hard against your clothed core, wrenching a strangled gasp from your throat.

“Steve,” you whimpered against his lips, still trying to break free from his hold: an exercise in futility. “Damn it, stop, let me go—”

But he didn’t. No, instead he kissed you again, muffling any other protests, any other objections – and moans, too, he soon discovered when you mistakenly ground against his thigh in another failed attempt of escaping.

Peppering your jaw with open-mouthed kisses, he murmured, “How am I supposed to stop when you sound so pretty?”

Pretty for him.

All for him.

A shudder wracked your body at the feeling of his breath against your ear, at the low timbre of his voice – rough and full of desire.

You stopped fighting after that.

And then you started to feel the heat, too. You felt the burn on your tongue, first, felt it prickle against your lips – uncomfortable, stifling heat, a fever that quickly made its way through your extremities, made your knees go weak, made you melt against him like butter.

If Steve hadn’t been holding you up, you would have hit the floor.

“It’s too hot,” you whined, leaning back against the wall, revealing more of your throat for him to mark, to claim. The sharp, sudden ache between your legs was unbearable. “God, it hurts—”

“I know, baby,” he breathed against the saliva-slickened skin of your neck. “I know it does. I’ll make it better.”

Your arms were thrown carelessly around his neck, now; when had he even let you go? You didn’t know. You didn’t care. You just needed him, needed what he was going to give you like you needed air.

An insistent tug around his collar – an unspoken plea, but the words soon followed, spilling from your mouth like a broken record. “Make it better, Steve, please make it better, Stevie, please—”

“Jesus, doll,” came his groaned reply as he all but yanked the zipper to your catsuit down, down, down between your breasts, and then the sleeves followed, fabric ripping along the seams. The moment you pulled your sports bra over your head, he palmed your breasts – left hot kisses and even hotter touches against your hypersensitive skin, and when he took a nipple into his mouth, you shivered.

“Not enough,” you gasped, fingers curling in his hair.

The taste of your skin was intoxicating – salty sweet with sweat and something he couldn’t quite place.

Longing, perhaps. Or dread.

Teeth raked against the pert bud and again your knees gave out, but Steve held you steady – a welcome reminder of his thigh between yours. This time, you ground down against him purposely, far too impatient and needy to wait for more.

You just couldn’t stop. Not that you even wanted to anymore.

With your free hand, you blindly fumbled with his belt and, somehow, it loosened. His fly was next, frantically unzipped until you had enough leeway to slide your hand into his boxers. As soon your fingers wrapped around him, Steve let out a shaky breath and met your eyes with a shared, albeit fleeting thought—

This was wrong.

But neither of you could stop.

You shoved his pants down below his ass, freeing him from the constraining fabric. His cock was hot and heavy in your palm, and you smoothed your thumb over the leaking slit.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he swore, sending a surge of heat straight to your core.

You wanted this – wanted him.

Steve stripped the rest of your catsuit off in about two seconds flat – half tore it from your body in order to reveal your soft skin and perfect curves. Not that he had a chance to really appreciate them, however, because with a flick of his wrist your panties were in shreds on the floor and you’d slung one leg around his waist.

So fucking eager. He loved it.

He hiked your thigh up higher – allowed you better access to line him up, and when the head of his cock glided through your slick folds, you breathed, “Make it better, Stevie.”

So he did.

Steve slid all the way inside of you in one fluid motion, to which your eyelids fluttered shut, head lulling back against the wall with a dull thunk. The pleasant burn of him stretching you out so beautifully had your fingernails digging into his shoulders, leaving angry red marks behind.

“That’s it,” Steve coaxed, his large hand cradling the side of your face. “There you go.”

The tight, velvety drag of your walls as he slowly withdrew drove you both absolutely insane – and then he slammed all the way back inside, punching the breath from your lungs.

“You— god, you feel so good, Steve, give it to me, I need you, fuck me, Stevie—”

You didn’t even know what you were saying anymore, so blissed out of your mind already and he’d barely even started. With the his cock so deep inside you, the tip snug against your cervix, Steve couldn’t think straight either – and hearing you beg for him like this was better than he ever could have imagined.

He kissed you, then, all teeth and tongues, swallowing every single one of your pleas. Your arms slowly came to rest around his neck, and with unsteady yet practiced flair, you jumped up the tiniest bit – jumped up into his arms, and sure enough, he caught you.

It wasn’t hard to figure out why you knew he would.

Bucky.

A train of thought quickly forgotten as both your legs wrapped around his waist. Hands palming your ass, now, Steve fucked up into you – fucked you to pieces, and then he kissed you back together.

“Fill me up,” you gasped against his lips.

Jesus.

You didn’t have to ask him twice, especially when he felt the tell-tale flutter of your walls around his cock. You were close, and your soft, breathy whimpers only confirmed it.

“Gonna come for me, baby?”

“Yeah,” you moaned. “God, I’m so fucking close—”

Steve’s thrusts started to falter, then, and his fingertips dug into your hips. He left more bruises, but the mix of sensations was too much for you to handle and with a strangled cry, you fell apart, walls clenching down around him – desperately trying to milk him dry.

Even your body wanted him to come inside.

It pushed him over the edge, the knowledge that even on the most primal level you wanted him to fill you up – a conscious decision, but an instinctive one, too. With a soft groan, he pushed in as deep as he could go and spilled hot inside of you, marking your insides like a brand.

As he came down, exhaustion hit him like a wave. He set you down gently, but then he held one of his hands to the wall to keep himself from falling.

He felt weak, and so did you.

Chest heaving, you slid to the floor in post-coital bliss, cum dripping down the insides of your thighs. Steve wasn’t nearly as winded, and of course he wasn’t. He had the serum coursing through his veins, just like Bucky.

Bucky.

“Oh god, Steve,” you choked out, staring up at him in horror. “What— What did we do?”

Steve’s eyes widened in shock, feverish haze finally starting to clear.

Two years today – your anniversary.

Not that it mattered.

Part Two / Cold Sweats (fan-written sequel)

(If you like my work, please consider donating to my Patreon or my Ko-Fi!)

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #fever

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babiesdreams · 3 years

Text

Superhuman +18 Chapter 1 [127]

Warnings: mentions of: blood, rape, traumas, gore (kind of)

Jungwoo’s story:

It’s always been in my blood, but I wasn’t aware of it at first. Maybe I should have noticed in the way my anger came out like a power bust sometimes. Maybe people around me should have noticed before. But now is too late to feel sorry about things.

It isn’t something bad to take advantage of your situations, to help your relatives, It shouldn’t be bad.

The police’s siren marked the rythm of my heartbeats, but I tried to stay calmed, there was nothing suspicious about a young adult driving his car a few miles /metres away from a recently robbed bank. Not even if they cassually had a bag with a million dollars on the backseat.

“Can I talk to you sir?” A tall policeman says tapping on my car’s window. “Yes” I politely reply, while I rolled the window down just enough for him to hear me. “Can we inspect your car? There’s been a robbery near by and we wanted to make sure-” My foot quickly stepped over throttle, to start driving through the busy streets.

My mind was too focused on not driving into other cars that I almost forgot about my powers. After driving through three streets, I stopped the car completely, concentrating like I practiced. Everyone and everything freezed around me. Everything stopped, except me.

I took my time to escape, as I had literally all the time on my hands. I was so scared of what could happen to me that I simply kept the world on pause for a whole month. Hours, days the all went through like nothing.

I only stopped because my headaches were getting worse every minute, the pain was way too much to take, so I had to stop using my powers for a while. They eventually got me, and took me to prison, but luckily I could give the money to my family first. I hope they all can enjoy the life they deserved now.

I really hope so.

Taeyong’s story:

It’s always been a curse to me. I never felt normal, I was never normal I guess. I first noticed when I was five. My mom told me I was the best thing that happened to her, and the images passed through my head.

I was a product of a rape, and she tried her best to abort me, but it was too late, and then she just got used to it. She lost her job because of me, and all her friends left her. We moved to a new city and bills were trapping us in. I got to know that when I was only five.

Since then, I could always know when someone lied to me. I thought it was a stupid power, useless and harmful for myself, but it turned out to be harmful for others as well.

Knowing secrets is powerful, much more than what I thought. I got out a job because I knew the boss was cheating on his wife. I got a promotion because I knew a workmate was stealing stuff from the office.

I worked hard since I was fifteen to get to where I am, and I’m not gonna risk it all for a stupid project. I wasn’t gonna, but they have my mother, so I’m here to tell the truth.

Yuta’s story:

When you’re like me, people misunderstand a lot of things. I was diagnosed with TDAH when I was three. Doctors said I lives a fast life, and that I should relax. They were simply wrong.

I live my life in between pills, xannys and all sorts of medication. But that shit only stops my body, my brain still works an 180% faster than the average human brain. My Iq was qualified as “untestable” and I’ve lives in labs my whole life.

Doctors wanted to figure out what caused my “disease” and they never stopped testing me.

So I plotted an escape plan on a free hour I had. I faked eating the pills so that I could take back some of my physical speed, and then I left the lab, as fast as I could. When they realized I was out, I was already exactly 10.000 km away from them.

But I didn’t realize how freedom would get me lost, unpathed and really pityful. So I ended up taking drugs, which actually helped me getting some of my brain speed out, and be free of my own thoughts for a while. But drugs led me to a shameful path full of crimes.

Dongyoung’s story:

I’ve always lived apart from other humans. I was trapped into a jail, where the experimented with me. I never saw another human, not that I remembered. Everyone was so scared of my power I guess.

Nobody likes to be manipulated, but it’s something I couldn’t control. They made me believe I was a monster and I acted upon that. I never wanted to be harmful. But do you know how it feels to feel what others feel?

I get to feel others feelings constantly and they all get mixed up, and there’s so much anger in this world, and sometimes I can’t control that anger.

So yeah, maybe I manipulate people, but they made me feel bad first it’s just fair. I don’t want to feel this either.

When I escaped, everyone was too scared of me, I had to turn that into something less harmful, like, like exhaustion. I made them fall asleep, but I didn’t think about the consequences it all may have.

So when I felt overwhelmed... well you know what happened... I also felt their sadness, the way their souls got out of their bodies, the way they cried their lungs out. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.

So I came here to learn how to control this.

Taeil’s story:

My powers came like something to be grateful for. My family were farmers, and the business kept going down. I still got the motivation to kept the farm going, and helping my family over the hardships of summer.

I don’t even know how it happened. I guess I just grabbed a bunch of rotten tomatoes and picture them to be the best vegetables I could imagine, and It changed, taking the form I had in my head.

Of course I didn’t tell my parents how I got the perfectly looking vegetables and fruits, but it saved the business, and I kept on doing it until I realized it waisted too much of my energy.

I want to make sure I can keep this going for more time until we get better, so I want to know how to improve with my powers.

Jaehyun’s story:

Transforming is never easy you know? The way I have to shape my body into something new and different from my original form, is not easy at all. I can transform myself into other humans, animals and even objects.

It causes my body to get stiff sometimes, and even if the things I transform into are a perfect copy of reality they have certain limits. Human limits I guess.

I remember this one time I turned into a plane, to escape from a robbery we did at a famous bank, it was kind of epic, but I ended up crashing into the ocean half way.

The rest is kind of history, everyone knows me and my mate. Rest in peace. But now I want to take a good turn and use my powers for good. That’s why I came here. But I must say I think I have what it’s needed to be a leader, so if we need a lead I think I can do it.

Mark’s story:

Okay so I was in middle school when this happened. I was too angry at my classmates, because they were always you know bullying me. So the thought came out of nowhere and I was just looking at the boy, and then his nose started bleeding a lot.

I thought it was just a coincidence, until I bumped into that guy. Yo he was raping a girl, and I got too angry and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know his veins would explode like that.

He bleed out in front of my eyes, I will never forget how life escaped his eyes. But the girl kept saying I was a hero so I thought it wasn’t that bad you know. I had the good luck that I was wearing a costume for my theatre classes.

Media named me as the bomb hero. They thought I used some sort of inner bombs, I don’t know honestly. I just want to control myself to have a normal life for once.

Johnny’s story:

I thought they were healing powers at first. My mother was at the hospital when I first noticed. I wanted her to get back to normal, and I guess I did. The thing is that I have to know exactly what I want to do to the body.

I knew my mother needed that cancer out so I just pictured it out(? I don’t know how to explain I just did it and she got back at her normal self instantly.

But It is also harmful, like my brother Mark, I can make organs and veins explode, or modify them as I want, tho I’mm better at healing.

We came here together because we wanted to live as a family, without feeling weird or different. And I feel like we can get that in here.

Donghyuck’s story:

I discovered my powers a week ago but you already know that, you also probably know that I’m the most powerful out everyone here, so I don’t get the point of sharing my story when you literally recruited me.

972: Lee Donghyuk, it’s a formal aspect we all agreed on, please do as you were told.

The robotic voice resounds all over the room, provocking me to sigh. “Fine. You want to know what I do?” I say, concentrating for a second, before I make the gravity dissappear on the said room. Everyone started to float in the air as I kept my feet on the ground.

Then gravity came back, when I stopped controlling it, making them all fall into the ground.

“You didn’t have to do that asshole” Jaehyun said in the distance, and I smiled to his stupid expression. “There’s no point in this anyway” I say, but everything turned a weird shade of blue fastly.

972: Welcome to the unit 127, you have been selected to the protection unit, you will be assigned with daily missions around the world that you will have to accomplish. I will always be watching your actions and if you go against the companies policies, we will inform the police to take you away. As long as you are here you are protected. 972 will always look after you.

“Are you like us?” Mark asked from the distance. The robotic voice answered a yes, that felt odd for everyone, but Taeyong started speaking the truth “She is more powerful than us and she’s leggit. Also she’s hiding behind that wall” The boy speaked calmly.

Jaehyun turned into one of the security guards body, breaking the glass that was covering the misterious girl with a stong punch. Her soft and calmed expression got us all. She got out of the cage she was in gently, supporting herself on one of the guard’s hand.

“You didn’t have to break that” She says calmly, repairing the broken mirror like nothing. The pieces slowy got back to place, like nothing had happened, at all. “I trust your ability of keeping secrets from now on, Lee Taeyong” her voice said calmly to the boy who simply nodded.

And like that she left the room, leaving us behind with all sorts of doubts. But I guess that’s how 972 worked, always wanting to keep the misterious atmosphere.

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This is like a character introductions sorta so be patient for more parts pleaseee

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himbothomas · 3 years

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Video Games || 2018 || PT. 1

“Your house is nice.”

Dean says, mostly to be polite but also cause he means it. Levi scoffs, leading him around the cluttered kitchen island towards the basement steps. His older sister, Sabrina, had already stalked upstairs, but she’d smiled when Dean told her she was a good driver, and had let him pick out which Paramore CD to play. She smelled really good, too, but Dean wasn’t about to risk one of the only friendships he had. And, until yesterday when he asked him to hang out after school today, Levi had been strictly a practice and class friend. They usually had to run laps together for dicking around between drills and usually got detention together for dicking around between classes, but this was different. It’s not like Dean was hurting for friends-everyone liked him and he and most of the other 11th graders on the football team hung out together in a big group, but no one has ever invited him over to their house. Just him.

And Levi. Dean really likes Levi. Really likes him. He, Dean notices as they settle on the well worn couch, also smells really good.

Shit. Fuck. Dean stops just short of shaking himself. He-well he wasn’t gay. He likes girls. But he also likes…Levi. It’s stupid and Dean knows it-the best thing that could come out of acting on those sorts of feelings is getting completely ostrichized. He’d be lucky if he didn’t end up hospitalized, for that matter. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t look. Or think about him before he falls asleep. Or purposefully get detention for the third time in a week so they could keep hanging out. Levi settles next to him, and it’s not weird for Dean to look, so he does. Curly black hair and eyes that were green in the right light. A tan that was half freckles and a quarter Puerto Rico and a smile that keeps Dean up at night, one he returns easily.

“Oh.” Levi says, standing again to grab the Xbox controllers. Dean tries not to look at his ass but it’s right there. Maybe he just likes nice asses. That’s not that weird.

Levi hands him the controller and continues to fuck with his Xbox.

“Madden or call of duty?”

Dean scoffs “You think after finally being done with football season, I wanna play football on screen?”

“So you suck at Madden?” Levi responds, booting up the game and laughing when Dean flips him off.

“No I’m just trying to be a good guest-“

“You just flipped me the bird-“

“I don’t think it’s polite to kick your host’s ass within 20 minutes of arrival.”

“Whatever.” Levi says, sitting back on the couch and closer to Dean. It’s just because he has wired controllers and doesn’t want to stretch the cord out. Dean has to stop from physically yelping when their knees touch. He shifts away. Levi, for his part, is texting.

“My mom says you can eat dinner with us if you want.”

The thought of processed food not from the organic grocery store is even more attractive than his friend or his sister.

“Oh cool. Sure, thanks.”

Levi raises an eyebrow. “You’re not even gonna ask your parents?”

“Do they still hold your hand when you cross the street, little boy?”

“Fuck off. “Levi shoves him and Dean laughs

“Nah I don’t have to do shit. My mom doesn’t care about me and Kenny forgets my name once football is over.”

“Oh shut up, sad sack your mom cares about you.” Levi rolls his eyes and picks the Dallas Cowboys as his team. Dean let’s him and picks the Patriots simply because-

“Why the fuck did you pick the worst team to ever fucking exist?”

“I figured if you’re gonna insist that I kick your ass I might as well break your spirit too.”

Levi shoves him again and Dean’s mission is accomplished. “Bastard.”

“Yeah, technically.”

Levi rolls his eyes again and they start to play. When Levi is down 40 points, Dean speaks.

“She really doesn’t care though. My mom. Which is cool most of the time cause I can do whatever I want, but last year she forgot about my birthday until it was 6 weeks later.”

Levi turns his head to look at him. “Oh you’re not kidding, are you?”

“Why do you think she bought me a car before I could drive?”

He’d failed his test twice at this point but that didn’t matter.

“That’s uh…pretty fucked, man.”

Dean shrugs. “It is what it is. I’m just wall decor unless there’s football talk or she needs to prove to someone she was once liberal enough to fuck a black guy.” Levi chokes a little on the Gatorade he's drinking.

“Jesus.”

“Nah, his name is Rodney.”

“Do you see him ever?” Levi asks. Something about the genuine curiosity in his voice is so nice that Dean lets him get a first down.

“Ha!”

“Nah. He took off when I was like…4? 5? And then we lived with my grandparents for a bit, which was cool. My grandpa was fucking awesome. But he died when I was like, 9 and mom was already with Kenny at that point so I never felt like I could ask about my dad.”

“You ever wanna meet him?”

Usually people express some sort of false sympathy for him, but Levi is too focused on making passes Dean is letting slide.

“Oh I did. Last Christmas. We met at Waffle House. He asked me for money.”

“What?!” Levi pauses the game and stares at him. “Whatd you do?”

Dean shrugs. “I had like $50 on me so I uh…gave it to him.”

The tips of his ears burn with shame and he looks away, suddenly uncomfortable.

“Jesus I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to like-Thats some tough shit, Deanie.”

Levi had been the first to call him that. Dean has been pretending for almost two and a half years that it didn’t make his heart race.

“It’s ok. Really. It sort of…I know now. It sucks but I can’t do a whole lot about it.”

Levi sighs. “Yeah but I shouldn’t have, like, forced you to tell me.”

“You didn’t.” Dean says easily. “It was actually nice to tell someone that.”

“Thomas.”

“Sanchez.”

“You’ve never told anyone that before?” No one’s eyes have any business looking that pretty when they’re sad. Especially Levi’s. Dean shrugs again, his voice a little lower.

“My mom doesn’t even know I met him. She’d just get pissed at me anyway so like…” he shrugs again. He feels Levi’s eyes on him and it makes his stomach tighten. “Do you wanna get back to the game or is therapy Levi still happening?”

“Stop being an asshole. That’s…so much, dude.”

“Yeah, a real winner runs through my DNA. Glad I kept his name.”

Levi groans. “You make me feel like a dick for being unhappy here.”

“You are a dick. Your mom lets you have video games and a whole basement that I’m guessing you decorated unless she’s a Kate Upton fan.”

Levi snorts. “I don’t entirely feel bad for you and your step dad’s fucking fortune and mansion.”

Dean doesn’t say anything because he knows Levi is right. “I dunno man, I’d give it all up for there to be bacon in the house.”

“What?!”

They keep talking as they play the game. Levi asks questions that are direct without prying. Dean tries to ask them back. He is shortly losing by 70 points. When the cowboys win, he does his best to demand a rematch, which, really, means he gets to keep talking to Levi.

“So-“ Levi says. “I think it’s only fair since you told me your secret, I'll tell you one of mine.”

Dean snorts. “This isn’t a friendship based on transactions you weirdo.”

“Right, yeah. Then I’m gonna be super narcissistic and make it about me.” Dean laughs at this and it’s his turn to pause the game.

“You uh, told me all that stuff because why?” Levi’s voice is different. Less confidence. Dean slowly realizes he’s nervous.

“I trust you.” Dean says, realizing he does as he says it.

“You do?”

“Should I not? Are you as shitty at keeping secrets as you are at realizing things?”

When Levi doesn’t laugh, Dean puts his controller down fully and turns to him. “Dude are you ok?”

“Yeah I uh-so what I told you before was a secret isn’t exactly secret it’s just…something I wanna ask about to see if it’s uh, normal.”

Something small and evil like a shred of hope crawls into Dean's stomach.

“Even if it’s not, Levi, I wouldnt you know, treat you differently for it.”

Levi scoffs again and Dean frowns. “What? I mean it. Have you ever known me to like, you know, judge people or whatever?”

Levi considers this and, as he strokes his thumb slowly up and down his index finger, his voice relaxes. “No. I guess I haven’t. You’re even nice to Dan-Danielle Stevens.”

Danielle was openly trans and braver than anyone else Dean knew.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“We live in Texas.”

“And I’m Black. And from Wisconsin.”

Levi laughs. “Two things I always say about you.”

Dean can’t help himself. “You talk about me a lot?”

He could be mistaken, but some of Levi’s freckles darken. “That’s not-do you want me to tell you the question or not?”

“Ask me the question, Leev.” Dean says, hoping he’s right.

Levi takes a breath. They’re facing each other on the couch now, controllers as abandoned as their math homework.

“I was just uh, you know, wondering if you-or if it’s normal or whatever... to think what it’d be like to you know…kiss another guy or something.”

All the blood leaves Dean’s upper body and rushes south.

“I think that’s normal.” Dean says, hoping he didn’t pause too long or answer too eagerly. “I mean it’s 2018, you know. Like all that gay shit is way more accepted so like, we see it more and maybe it sparks some inspiration or something.”

“Right. Ok. Yeah. Like when you see an ad for something a bunch of times and then you finally buy it. “

Dean laughs. “Yeah. Curiosity isn’t bad unless you’re a cat or like, a guy who defuses bombs.”

Levi laughs and moves a bit closer.

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“You’re getting really close to your allotted time slot being up but I’ll see what I can do.”

“I hate you.” Levi says, his smile directed just at Dean is too much to handle.

“Have you ever thought about-”

Before Levi finishes, Dean closes the distance between them, stretching out on the couch and very carefully and purposefully placing his lips on Levi’s.

And its right. It’s so right Dean almost feels bad for being so ashamed of all the times he’s thought about it.

Levi pulls away just slightly and when his thumb comes up to trace Dean’s cheekbone, that evil shred of hope doubles in size.

They stay like that for an hour, getting bolder and more confident with each kiss, their hands firmly on each other’s. When his mom comes home with the smell of pizza lingering with her and calls down the stairs, they pull apart. Without speaking, Dean knows they’re not going to talk about it, but he can’t even bring himself to care-everything he’d been fantasizing about was so much better in practice. Even if Levi never wants to see him again-

“You wanna come over again tomorrow?” Levi says, clearing his throat. His hand covers Dean’s on the couch and gives him a squeeze.

Dean’s fate is sealed before he can even finish saying “Sure.”

#drabble #video games #levi

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sergeant-angels-trashcan · 3 years

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bro I sent the matt/kate ask and you gave me kate/frank feelings so like if you want to can I have that as well?

How dare you. i have been waiting for years to be asked about frankate (also i feel the need to clarify that this is very specifically Nazar-fic-Kate)

What was their first impression of each other?

“this fucking idiot” basically. they meet when Matt is chained to the roof and Kate is like “pls stop terrorizing my bf” and frank is like “your bf is a moron”

What is their ship name?

Frankate...frankkate? anything that’s a chess pun (bishop...castle...get it...)

in my WIPs they’re spooks and snipers

Describe their relationship dynamic.

Kate: FRANK NO

Frank: FRANK YES

it’s honestly a lot of philosophical discussions about killing people, Frank calling Kate out on her bullshit, and Kate acting as an impulse check. One of the BIG THINGS with this relationship is Kate realizing that Frank can and will kill someone if she asks him to, no questions asked, and that is both terrifying and a turn on. The fact that Frank trusts her moral compass so completely--he realizes that he’s a little fucked up when it comes to that, so he will look to her for the thumbs up/thumbs down kind of thing.

like. to the point Kate has to kick Frank out of a fancy Bishop party because if he stays she knows she’ll ask him to kill her dad and he WILL.

What was their relationship like before they got together?

once they got done bitching at each other over Daredevil (and Kate yelled at him a LOT) they worked pretty well together? Kate helped Frank figure out the drug smuggling thing (turns out Derek Bishop was involved with that). They would get each other coffee and check in with each other’s mental health. Frank is very soft with her, in a lot of ways. But also not, they did beat each other up at least once and Frank shot her very much on purpose but they always were fond of each other.

once they meet back up after Matt ~dies~ they’re....really, really good for each other. Kate feels like she’s able to be honest with Frank in a way she can’t be with anyone else, because what the hell could she say that would scandalize Frank? She doesn’t need to step lightly around him because Frank’s never stepped lightly in his life. Kate feeling like she has more leeway to be brutally honest around Frank means he feels freer to be honest around her, and she’s seen some shit so he respects her in a way he doesn’t respect a lot of people.

Kate gets to be angry around Frank in a way she can’t with anyone else, except maybe Clint, and that’s really important.

They both like coffee and dogs, i mean, what more do you need

How would they describe each other?

Kate: That asshole

Frank: fuckin’ fed

What do they love about each other?

absolutely nothing. they barely even know each other! what are you talking about?? go away.

they love how fighty the other is, even if it drives them crazy. the inability to leave well enough alone, the willingness to do stupid stuff together.

What do they have in common?

WEAPONS. Kate doesn’t use guns professionally but she does love going to a range every now and then. Kate knows bows and grenade launchers and long range rifles, but doesn’t care for handguns. so there’s a lot of very sexually charged shooting dates where Kate lets Frank put his hands on her and around her to correct her grip, and he knows she’s just letting him, for the most part, but they both like it. she teaches him how to use a bow, and he’s terrible. it doesn’t help that Kate smells really good and she’s very very close and he’s never going to need to know how to shoot a recurve, so he doesn’t feel bad about not paying attention. Kate has general gun knowledge so he gets super obscure stuff to teach her how to shoot. like a musket, or the kind of rifle you’d take down a hippo with, something with a shitton of recoil so he can brace her against him. He’s not a proud man, okay, he’ll take his excuses to hold Kate close in public wherever he can

Frank likes dressing Kate up in body armor and Kate likes dressing Frank up in sweaters and suits.

Also dogs. The have Lucky, and the dog Frank rescues. Kate names him something terrible. Like Charm (lucky and charm, get it?) or (apple) Jack (lucky charms and apple jacks) or Oberon

What are some differences between them?

Frank is very willing to kill. Kate is not. Frank is very mission-oriented--he’s a soldier, he gets a job, he does it. Kate’s been a leader, she’s worked with bureaucracy, she thinks about the optics of situations (yes it makes sense to have a shootout on the boardwalk but perhaps we could go to a less family-friendly location?)

What made them realize they were in love?

almost losing each other--or thinking they were almost losing each other. also, the day Sarah Lieberman kisses Frank. That’s when Frank has the realization of “okay, the kissing, that’s fine, but there’s actually someone specific I’d like to do this with” and with Kate it was more like “ (: i’m so happy ((: frank has found some happiness. i am not jealous of him kissing someone else (((: that would be silly”

What are their love languages?

so much physical affection. so much wound bandaging. Frank bringing Kate coffee to work or food to a stakeout. Beating up muggers together. Cooking together, they’re so disgustingly domestic. cuddling. all the time cuddling. hands in back pockets, pinkies linked, Frank just COCOONS her in bed (which is not to say Kate is always the little spoon. Frank loves being little spoon every now and then) they both get very octopus-limbed with each other. “if i’m plastered to you you can’t leave without me” kind of thing. they’re lowkey possessive

Do they get married? Who proposes and how?

Frank proposes, but getting to that point is a team effort, yanno? They're out in LA and Kate's in the kitchen stock still because she's living??? With Frank castle??? And kind of has been for a WHILE? And Frank's wrestling with Lucky and Kate suddenly realizes she loves him so much and there's like pasta boiling on the stove and its domestic and unexciting and neither of them are bleeding and Kate sort of dazedly says “hey Frank, would you be interested in getting married someday?”

and Frank doesn’t answer, just rummages around in one of his bags, pulls out a small box that he tosses to her. Inside is a ring. “took you long enough,” he says

What would happen if they never met?

they’re both very sad and depressed. i feel like being with Kate gives Frank more moral nuance and being with Frank makes Kate rawer, in a way. So without each other, they are really closed off emotionally. Kind of frozen.

Who dies first? How does the other one react?

Woooof ok Frank probably dies first and Kate is fucking FURIOUS about it. It's not unexpected because hes the punisher for god's sake, and he's older than her by almost a decade but still

It could happen, though, that Kate dies first, sudden and unexpected. And Frank loses. His. Shit. Idk who kills her, Fisk or Masque or Russo or all three, but you can bet your ass Frank gets his bloody revenge. And he doesn't technically kill himself, but he's reckless and gets shot a lot and bleeds out on Kate's grave. Yeah.

Are there any love rivals?

BILLY RUSSO, Totes makes a move on Kate, and also he’s in love with Frank so there’s that.

Matt isn’t really a rival? In a perfect world they’re ot3 but do not ask me how we get from Matt pretending to be dead to a happy healthy polyamorous relationship, i don’t know

Describe your favorite moment of that ship!

the pining! the mutual yearning! and both of them are like “this is not a good time for a relationship” and then the dumb jealousy! Frank is jealous of Billy Russo, who is trying to get Kate to work for him, and Kate is jealous of Micro’s wife, Sarah, when she kisses Frank, the YEARNING

What do other characters think about this relationship?

“What. the hap. is fuckening”

Micro gets it, he thinks they’re idiots and adorable af, you know, for people who are such deadly shots, but most of the people on Kate’s side of the equation just don’t get it or think Frank’s a rebound. America and Cassie are the first ones to realize he’s sticking around.

Karen’s not to sure about them, but she likes them both and thinks they’re good for each other.

Curtis think they’re both morons (fond) but in different ways so they balance out.

Most people on Frank’s side of the equation get it. People on Kate’s side are like “you went from self-castigating catholic lawyer to vengeance-fueled murder machine, are you ok?”

Describe or write a really fluffy scene!

ohhhh ok so this is. probably one of my favorite scenes ever. not because it’s particularly well-written, but because i like the idea behind it

Kate has her legs wrapped around Frank, her arms draped over his shoulders as they watch the sun set over the ocean. He is very much a person to drape oneself over.

"Frank," she says, a touch of reverence in her voice as the light catches something. "Frank."

"What?"

"You've got grey hair."

"The fuck? Seriously, Spook, you gotta point that out when we're doing the romantic thing?"

Kate wraps her hands around his skull, tipping it this way and that. It's hard to tell when he has it this short but—yeah. It's there. Kate swallows down an unexpected lump in her throat as Frank continues to bitch until she drapes herself more over his shoulder and turns his head so she can shut him up with a kiss.

Kisses.

A lot of kisses, actually.

"Jesus," he pulls back after a minute, the pad of his thumb rough on her cheek as he swipes at the moisture under her eyes. "You cryin' over some grey hairs?"

"I didn't think you'd stick around long enough for me to see them," she admits.

"Not goin' anywhere, Spook. You're stuck with me."

He's not getting it. Kate presses her forehead against his, her fingers finding the spot where a bullet entered his head and changed his life. "Frank, I didn't think you'd be alive long enough to get them."

Describe or write a really angsty scene!

how about matt comes back aftermath

“You’re not going to make me choose?” Kate’s voice slips out of neutral, into something like hope. Not the kind of thing she’d ever thought Frank would be suggesting, but--

“I’m not gonna make you choose, no.” He smiles at her, a wrong kind of smile, and turns slowly, heading towards the door. His hand is on the knob before her brain processes this enough to send words to her mouth.

“Where—what are you doing, Frank?”

He doesn’t face her. “I’m leaving.”

“You’re—leaving.” The words feel strange, they sour in her mouth and panic wraps brittle fingers around her throat, choking her. “Why—are you leaving?”

“I just said, Spook. Not gonna make you pick.”

Realization and rage burn through her, bright and quick. “So you’re leaving? You’re not making me choose because you’re doing the choosing for me?”

“That’s what you want.”

“No it’s not! Stop making decisions for me! I don’t—I don’t know what I want, yeah, but I know what I don’t want!”

“You told me you still love him. Best thing is for me to go.” He says it with no inflection, as if he wasn’t ripping Kate’s heart out and his too.

“No, I don’t want you to leave! You leaving is the opposite of what I want because what I want--” her voice breaks. “Is for you to stay. I don’t know what to do, but I don’t want you to leave, Frank. I love him, but he left me. He hurt me. And I love you, too. And I like you, which is more important, sometimes, and you helped me when I couldn’t find myself, you just—you let me be, you let me be angry and ugly and awful and you didn’t make me apologize for it or feel sorry about it, or guilty. And I owe you for that—that’s not why I want you to stay, but if you do stay because of it—god, that’s bad, right?” She takes a shaky breath. “Frank. Please stay. I want you to stay.”

Talk about a headcanon you’ve never talked about before.

Frank poses as Kate’s bodyguard when she’s Kate Bishop, heiress who doesn’t know self defense. They were at a party and Kate’s sister Susan was like “huh, you look a lot like mass murderer frank castle, there, pal.”

and of course frank says no he’s not he gets that a lot, and Susan gets right up close to him and says “i don’t care who you are, i just see how my little sister looks at you, and if you break her heart like the last guy did i will litigate your ass into the ground, sir. the GROUND”

also, like, an entire 1920s mafia au where derek is the man behind frank’s family being killed (which is why frank is working for him) and he’s kate’s bodyguard and he covers for her sneaking out and kicking ass

What does a typical date look like for them?

not to be basic but walking dogs and drinking coffee together. stopping a drug deal along the way. going to a shooting range.

What’s a really significant moment in their relationship?

Frank gets roped into being Kate’s backup on a SHIELD mission. Frank takes a shot at the target and Kate’s pissed because she was supposed to take the shot, and it’s this whole thing. About Kate being angry that Frank could have been made and Frank being angry that Kate wouldn’t take the shot, putting herself in danger, and both of them are just PISSED until they realize that both of them are just AFRAID and FRANTIC. they’re both just like “what would I do if something happened to you?? huh???

#Anonymous #kate bishop #hawkeye #young avengers #frank castle #frankate #my stuff #god i have a lot of feelings about these two #i am working on the other ones i PROMISE!!!

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