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navybrat817 · 4 months

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Indulgence

Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.

“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”

“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”

“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”

“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”

You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.

“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.

You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.

You were more than happy to help.

“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.

You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.

But it wasn't that cut and dry.

“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.

You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.

He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.

That was where you came into the picture.

If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.

“You wanna be my angel?”

You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.

While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.

Unlike your last boyfriend.

As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Was it a recipe for disaster?

The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.

His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.

You had it bad.

“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”

Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.

Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.

“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.

He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”

You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.

“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.

“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.

“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.

Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.

He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.

It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.

“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.

He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.

He wouldn't budge on that rule.

“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.

His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.

Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.

You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.

Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.

“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”

His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Three months since we started this,” he answered.

You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.

A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”

Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?

“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”

You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.

And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.

He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.

“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”

Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.

You trusted him and he made you feel safe.

“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.

A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.

“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.

So were you.

It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.

You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.

He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.

Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.

“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”

A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”

“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”

He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.

“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.

“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.

“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”

“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.

He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.

“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”

“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”

You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.

“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”

“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.

And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.

Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.

“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”

Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.

“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”

You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”

In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.

He took you to heaven when he was inside you.

“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.

“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”

Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.

Flaws and all.

“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”

Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.

“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”

It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.

“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”

“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”

“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”

“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.

“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”

Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?

Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”

He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”

The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.

Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”

Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.

“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.

A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.

It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.

Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.

You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.

At least, that was what he told you.

You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?

Had you taken care of him?

Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.

“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.

“You okay?”

“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.

For now.

He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”

“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”

His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”

You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.

You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?

Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.

“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.

He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”

Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.

You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.

“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”

Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.

“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”

He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”

There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.

One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.

You wondered if Bucky told her about you.

“What’s there to like?” He asked.

You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”

“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.

Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.

Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.

“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.

It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.

And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.

Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?

“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”

“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”

You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.

That day changed your life.

“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.

In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.

Permanently.

I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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yandere-daydreams · 4 months

Text

Title: Loving Suffocation.

A Continuation Of This Piece.

Written for a very lovely, very indulgent anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Loid x Reader x Yandere!Yor (SxF).

Word Count: 4k.

TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Slight Somnophilia, Spanking, Sex Toys, Breeding, Mentions of Pregnancy, Medical Malpractice, Oral Sex, Obsessive Behavior, Slight Gaslighting, Bruising/Marking, and Overstimulation.

You never did get to see your opera. A lack of oxygen turned your cramped world blurry and abstract, and you faded in and out of consciousness while Yor fussed over your ruined dress and gathered you up in her arms, the strip of fabric she’d tied around your neck and stuffed in your mouth – not quite a gag, but enough to convince your uncooperative vocal cords that calling for help wouldn’t be worth the effort. Sometime between being pulled against Yor’s chest and slipping out of that sex-saturated storage closet, you blinked and by the time you could find the strength to open your eyes again, you were in your apartment, in your own bed, your makeshift gag gone and your wrists bound behind your back with a generous amount of duct tape. You briefly considered calling for help, but you were past the point of screaming. Even if you tried, the Forgers were your only neighbors close enough to hear, and you’d seen enough of enough of that family for a lifetime.

Just as exhaustion began to overwhelm your better judgement, you caught stifled footsteps in the near distance, heard the door to your bedroom creak open and shut with enough force to shake the drywall. This time, when you closed your eyes, it was in a deliberate effort to will yourself to sleep. An effort that was, of course, rendered futile by Yor’s hand on your forehead, a soft hum too tender to be purposefully deceptive. “I think they might be asleep. The poor thing could barely hold their eyes open.”

“That’s fine.” Instantly, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. He spoke quietly, keeping his voice low and airy, but even in worst dreams, Loid seemed to be able to carve out a place for himself. It made sense for him to make an appearance in this nightmare, too. “Can you show me where the damage is?”

You held your breath as Yor’s hand drifted from your face to your thigh. After a moment of hesitation, she nudged you onto your back, pulling the ragged remains of your skirt up to your waist. You fought not to bolt up as cold air washed over your exposed, abused cunt – not to ball your fists as you felt Loid’s narrowed eyes pry into you the way they always seemed to when you passed each other in the hall, when he got home before you could find a reason to get out of the Forgers’ suffocating apartment. You managed to hold yourself still as he clicked his tongue, edging that much closer to the foot of your bed. You could picture him leaning over you, perfectly styled blonde hair falling ever so slightly out of place as he took long, agonizing seconds to evaluate the bruises lining the inside of your thighs, the crescent-shaped marks Yor’s nails had left pressed in your hips, your waist. Calloused fingertips brushed over your ankle, but further restraint was deemed unnecessary as his attention shifted back to his wife. “And you said you found them…?”

“Unconscious,” she filled in. You could hear her shifting her weight, feigning concern as her husband evaluated you. “In front of our building. I tried to wake them up, but they panicked, and I remembered the treatment you told me about for—for hysteria.” She paused, swallowed. “I thought I could help, but I’m afraid I might’ve just made things worse…”

Loid’s response was delayed, put off in favor of inching that much closer to you. The mattress dipped as he rested a knee on the foot of your bed. Don’t move, you repeated to yourself, despite the ever-growing urge to get up and run gnawing violently at the back of your mind. If you pretended to be asleep, you’d only have to tolerate a few minutes of his attention before he got tired of leering at your conscious body. If you pretended to be asleep, they’d leave and you could start to forget this ever happened.

It got harder to be so rational as he reached out, running two fingers over your slit and splitting apart the lips of your pussy, giving himself a better view of your abused clit, your entrance – still pitifully drooling slick. You tried to remember what kind of doctor he was, but any specialties that might’ve come to mind were immediately forgotten as his gloved fingers slipped inside of you. You had to bite back a quiet hiss as he scissored open the sore walls of your cunt, his touch probing and experimental. At least Yor had the decency not to draw it out. “You reacted swiftly and efficiently. Even trained paramedics leave residual damage.” He drew back suddenly, and you fought not to jolt at his callousness. “Can you show me what exactly your…” He trailed off. You could practically hear the curiosity in his voice. “…your treatment entailed?”

Yor made a noise you couldn’t decipher. Loid moved away from you entirely, but Yor was quick to take his place. She settled into the space between your legs, her hands – shaking ever so slightly – taking up your hips, her fingertips near-perfectly aligned with the dark bruises pressed into your skin. You felt her breath ghost over the inside of your thighs, the flat of her tongue run gingerly over your slit, and you bolted upward on instinct, mouth open and ready to—

—ready to have your scream stifled and suffocated by Loid’s palm as he forced his hand over your mouth and shoved you back into the mattress. Unable to claw at his arm, to pry him off of you, you thrashed under his steadfast hold, but he didn’t seem to pay you any mind. Rather, his eyes met yours for all of half a second before flickering to his wife, sparing her a slight nod. “Patients usually react with some level of resistance. You can go on.”

Yor’s eyes widened, but any shock she might’ve felt seemed to melt away at her husband’s assurance. She was more nervous, now that she was performing for an audience rather than assaulting you in the privacy of her chosen hideaway, but the little, tentative movements of her tongue got braver over time, her eyes closing as her hands drifted from your waist to your thighs. She nudged your legs onto her shoulders and latched onto your clit, suckling with just enough force to draw a reaction out of your burnt-out nerves, to leave you trembling and struggling to swallow back pained moans and pathetic whimpers. It hurt – more than anything, it hurt – but she had your body trained, knew just what points to hit to get what she wanted out of you. More than that, your body knew that it wasn’t going to end until she reached her goal, until she had you cumming on her tongue for the— god, how many times would this make? You’d lost track after the first dozen, but even if you hadn’t, it would’ve been impossible to tell, impossible to know what she’d accomplished the first time reality started to blur and consciousness was rendered more of revokable privilege than something you’d ever be capable of holding on to without help. In less than a minute, you were grinding against her tongue involuntarily, the movement of your hips stilted and jerky. You couldn’t have called it a real orgasm, not when any pleasure you could’ve felt was so overshadowed by a searing sort of ache, but Yor seemed satisfied – drawing the back of her hand over her chin as she lifted her head, sending Loid a sheepish smile.

“I just, uh,” she started, drumming her fingers over your thigh. “I just did that until they calmed down. I’m not sure if it helped.”

“I see.” Loid, for his part, failed to let his air of stoic professionalism so much as waver. “And how many times did the patient reach climax?”

“…thirty?” Yor let out an airy, nervous laugh. “Maybe more. It… It was a little hard to keep track, in the moment.”

“And they’re still so unruly.” He was kind enough to feign concern, to let his tone soften and purse his lips into a thin frown. For a second, you let yourself believe that you’d just stumbled into a bad situation – that he and his wife were under some shared delusion and genuinely thought they might’ve been helping you, but then you caught a spec of crimson on the collar of Yor’s dress out of the corner of your eye and thought better of trying to humanize them. “Would you mind if I took a closer look?”

The question was posed to Yor, not you. “Please do, you’re the doctor here,” she spouted, hurrying to get out of Loid’s way. Loid was more hesitant, his palm lingering over your mouth as his eyes found yours. He was cold at the best of times – his expression often hollow when he thought your attention was elsewhere, his touch enough to send a chill down your spine on the rare occasion he found an excuse to put his hands on you – but the look he sent you as he uncovered your mouth was nothing short of frigid. The threat was clear, albeit ambiguous. You had no idea what Loid was capable of, let alone what extremes he was willing to go to.

But, you knew what Yor could do – you’d caught her in the act.

And you weren’t eager to find out what’d she’d do to you at her husband’s request.

When his hand finally fell away from your mouth, you didn’t make a sound. Rather, you dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek as Loid wrapped an arm around your waist and hauled you onto his lap – his thighs cutting harshly into your stomach. The position was enough to leave your cheeks burning and humiliation tying knots in the back of your throat, but whatever embarrassment you might’ve felt was multiplied ten-fold as his hand ghosted over the buttons lining the back of your dress and your only remaining protective barrier fell away – mutilated fabric now limp and useless beneath you. You started to writhe, but the heel of Loid’s palm found the small of your back, pressing into the base of your spine with just enough force a pained whimper past your lips. Reflectively, Yor moved to reach towards you, but Loid shook his head. “It’s important to test for reactiveness,” he explained, tone flat and steely. “I can take care of bruises and cuts, but lasting nerve damage will make things—” He paused, clicked his tongue. “—difficult.”

“Oh!” Yor clapped her hands together. At least she seemed to sincerely believe that, even if she wasn’t helping you, her husband might be. You couldn’t tell what Loid was thinking, but it couldn’t have been so benevolent. “Is that what you’re doing now? Testing for reactiveness?”

“Exactly.” Loid flashed her a smile. You felt him shift, fish something out of the pocket of his suit jacket. Aching numbness had put you at a distance from his invasive touch before, but Yor’s mouth had done away with that – resurrecting the buzzing sort of hyper-sensitivity that meant you weren’t able to hide the way your hips bucked against his thigh as he slid something sleek and metallic into your drenched pussy. It was oddly shaped – one end tapered and the other flat, small enough to fit in the palm of your hand but still big enough to leave you squirming uncomfortably as Loid pulled back. “Normally, I’d use more intricate equipment, but there are a few experiments I can run on my own.”

You heard nails against metal, a soft click muffled by stiff machinery. After a second of delay, the object inside of you let out an abrupt pulse of pure vibration – harsh and sudden and awful. Your reaction was reflexive, undisguisable. You threw your head forward as you bit back a bubbling, broken moan; waves of intense reverberation beating at the walls of your cunt. There was no time to brace yourself, to grow into the piercing sting – it was already too much. The walls of your pussy clenched around the source of your agony, and before you could think to stifle your reactions, to give them as little as you possibly could, tears were blurring your vision, dripping down your cheeks. Yor cooed, kneeling in front of you and cupping your cheeks. “Poor thing…” she mumbled, before looking up towards Loid. “I don’t think they’re enjoying it.”

Another wave of pulsing reverberation, a jagged cry forced past your lips. “P-please, turn it off, take it out, I can’t—”

It took you a second to process the sound of a palm against flesh, how it might’ve been connected to the bright flash of pain just below the curve of your ass. When you could bring yourself to glance over your shoulder, his hand was raised, his expression stern. The sight was enough to make your heart ache in your chest – a sensitivity which surprised you. You hadn’t thought there was anything the Forgers could do to hurt you more than they already had.

“We’re going out of our way to help you.” It was the same tone he used with Anya when she refused to do her homework or threatened to drop out of her upper-crust academy. Whatever genuine sympathy he might’ve had for you was buried beneath a heavy layer of practiced stoicism and nearly totalitarian authority, turning the words cold where they should’ve been comforting. “It’s unfair to be so ungrateful when Yor’s already sacrificed so much of her time for the sake of your health. Why don’t you apologize to her?”

Again, you heard that same soft click, and the vibrations pulsing out of the object in your cunt doubled in intensity. You let your head fall forward, clenching your eyes shut as you struggled to spit something out. “I… I’m sorry, Yor, I didn’t mean to—”

You were cut off by a sharp moan, the feeling of Loid’s fingers tracing over your slit. Soon, the pad of his thumb found your clit, pushing dull circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. He let out an airy chuckle as you withered into yourself, your legs spreading involuntarily as your feet struggled to find purchase on carpeting that seemed to be just an inch too far, to ground yourself on something that Loid didn’t even have to try to keep just out of your grasp. “Don’t strain yourself,” he muttered, your unwanted reward for your easy compliance. “How does this—” He pushed a rough pattern into your clit, drawing out a wavering cry. “—feel?”

Miserable. Torturous. The worst thing that’d ever been inflected onto your poor, spent body. You deflated, your chest flattening against Loid’s thighs. “…it hurts.”

This time, he let you finish before pulling back, his palm striking your ass with twice the force he’d used before. You cried out, the noise uneven and anguished, but your pain didn’t seem to rank very high on his nebulous list of concerns. “I’ve already told you not to be so ungrateful,” he said, shaking his head. “Do you know what would’ve happened if we weren’t here to help you?” Another strike, another ragged sob. “You’d be suffering on your own, in excruciating pain and spiraling into your own delusions. If we hadn’t been there to correct you so quickly, you would’ve been unrecoverable.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You were babbling, now, your apologies clumped together and nearly unintelligible. Loid cut in, pointed as ever.

“You’ve already apologized.” Two digits slipped into you, splitting your pussy open. Somehow, the added stimulation only seemed to make his device’s vibration more unbearable. “Now, it’s time to tell Yor how thankful you are.”

“Thank you—” There was no hesitation, no resistance. If you’d been able to, if you hands hadn’t been bound, you would’ve clung to her, dug your nails into her shoulder and your teeth into Loid’s thigh, anything to feel like you weren’t about to fall apart altogether. “Thank you, I’m so— I can’t— Thank you—”

It was Yor, this time – her mouth crashing against yours as her hand found the back of your head. Her tongue slipped past your lips, raking over yours with a ginger sort of tenderness and raking her fingers through your hair, drinking down every little moan and whimper her husband forced out of you with enthusiasm. She lingered there, lips moving gently against yours, as you reached your next climax – the number completely lost on you, now. When she pulled away, eyes glazed over and a dark blush painted over her cheeks, Loid hummed approvingly, fishing his bullet-shaped device out of your pussy and switching it off. Slick dripped down the inside of your thighs, your chest heaving stiltedly against his lap, and you noticed, for the first time, something large and stiff pressing into your stomach. For your own sake, you decided you weren’t going to think about it.

But, like always, Loid was quick to tear even the comfort you found in your own mind away from you.

“You did what you could,” Loid started, with heavy sigh. “But their condition is worse than I thought. It might take more than the usual treatment to set them back on the right path.” A lengthy pause, an arm looped underneath you. With more care than he’d seen fit to show you all night, Loid repositioned you on your back in the center of your bed. You were too exhausted to so much as try to protest. “For cases like this, insemination is the only known cure.”

Yor blinked up at him, more curious than confused. “Insemination?”

“Pregnancy,” Loid filled in. “It can be done artificially, but for cases this severe…”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Weakly, you tried to sit up, but it was Yor that stopped you, this time, pressing her hand flat against your shoulder and pinning you down effortlessly. “If that’s what’s best,” she chimed, her smile wide and brilliant. “Can I help?”

For the first time, Loid’s expression seemed to warm. “Of course.”

Less than a full minute later, you were slotted against Yor, your head resting on her chest and her arms loosely wrapped around your midriff. Loid had reclaimed his position in the space between your open legs, one hand on your hip and the other toying with his clothes, shifting the waist of his now-wrinkled dress pants down just far enough to free his flush cock – already hard, already leaking pearls of arousal. The sight, paired with the breathy sigh he let out as he wrapped his fist around his shaft, was enough to dash any hopes you might’ve had of a last-minute change of heart.

You squirmed in Yor’s hold, your fists balling around your own near ruined sheets as Loid aligned himself with your entrance. You didn’t realize you were talking until you heard your own voice, fragile and desperate, nearly too broken to be comprehensible. “Please don’t, I—I’m not sick, please don’t—”

It was Yor who hushed you, this time, smiling as she pressed a fleeting kiss into your cheek. “He’s going to help you,” she whispered, tone simpering where you wished it would be sterile. “You can just sit back and relax while we—” She paused, squeezed you against her playfully. “—make sure you’re alright.”

There was a beat of silence, of stillness. Eventually, you managed to stutter out, “I don’t want your help.”

Loid let out an airy chuckle, tracing the flushed tipped of his cock over your slit. “You don’t have to want anything.” He bowed his head, leaning down far enough to rest his lips against the top of your head. “You’ll need all the help you can get, in a few weeks.”

You didn’t have time to protest, not before he thrust into you – sheathing himself to the hilt in a single stroke.

You tried to scream, but Yor’s mouth found yours in a moment, swallowing any fractured noises you might’ve been able to make. Loid didn’t seem interested in giving you time to adjust; immediately falling into a rhythm just as forceful and just as cruel as anything else he’d done to you. It wasn’t a question of if it would hurt, anymore, but how badly. The feeling of his not inconsiderably length splitting open your aching pussy alone was enough to bring tears to your eyes, and his rough thrusts, his shattering pace – all of it only working to agitate the few parts of you that hadn’t already gone numb to his assult. You clenched your eyes shut, willing yourself to go completely numb, but Yor cooed, one of her hands falling away from you only to find its way to the curve of your stomach, her palm soon pressed flat against your skin. “Miss Anya did mention wanting a younger sister,” she muttered, nuzzling into the dip of your shoulder. “It’ll be difficult to hide, ‘till it’s over with. There used to be a single mother working at city hall, but the State Security Service paid her a visit and…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “But I’m sure that won’t be an issue for you!”

“Of course not.” Loid’s voice was breathy, his attention mostly elsewhere. He did his best to stay composed, to maintain that painstakingly professionally air, but you could feel him twitch inside of you, feel his hips stutter as his pace grew that much more brutal. “We’ll be taking care of you. When you start to show, you’ll move in with us, and—” A groan, a pair of tired eyes allowed to close. “—and if you cooperate, we’ll make it so you don’t have to worry about anything aside from the baby. Any added stress will only make the pregnancy more difficult.”

Loid’s hips pressed against yours, Yor’s mouth on the curve of your neck. “Our little family is growing so quickly.” You could feel her grin against your throat, fangs ready to clamp down at the first sign of resistance. “I can’t wait until you’re better. You’ll be so happy, when you’re in your right mind again.”

Your mouth fell open, but anything you might’ve said died in your throat long before it could ever reach your tongue. There was no pleasure to it, no stimulation other than the same grating sensation and the pinpoints of pressure where Loid’s fingertips dug into your waist, but if your comfort mattered to Loid, he would’ve stopped as soon as he saw what his wife did to you. He cursed under his breath, throwing his hand forward and hauling your rigid body that much closer to his. You didn’t have a chance to brace yourself, to trick your pain-addled mind into believing there was anything you could possibly do to get away from him before he went still, something thick and searing flooding into your unprotected cunt. He lingered there, his cum leaking out of you despite your pussy’s futile attempts to cling to his cock, and for the first time, you let yourself think about what they were taking about – insemination, pregnancy, growing families and new siblings. You let yourself acknowledge the weight of Yor’s hand against your stomach, Loid’s hips against yours. You let yourself breath in, holding the air in your lungs for a moment before exhaling and going limp against Yor.

Fuck.

If you never saw the Forgers again, it’d still be a day too soon.

Yor started to pull away from you, but Loid stopped her. “Conception can be fickle,” he started, fighting not to pant audibly. “It’d be for the best if we were…” His eyes dropped to you. “…thorough.”

“Do you hear that?” Her hold grew that much tighter, her smile that much brighter. Her lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. The feeling might’ve sent a chill down your spine, if you still had the strength to be afraid of them.

“Loid’s going to take very good care of you.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #spy x family #spy x family imagines #yandere spy x family #yandere loid forger #loid forger x reader #twilight x reader #yor forger x reader #yor x reader #yandere yor #yanderecore #yancore

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rkvriki · 4 months

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GOT ME THINKING NONSENSE sim jaeyun ౨ৎ

synopsis! you get paired up with jake, your sweet classmate who’s always willing to help you, but while you’re both working, he seems to be the one needing help. wc! 5.1k cw! porn with barely no plot unprotected sex (wrap it up yall!!), SUB!JAKE, dom!reader obvi, oral (m! receiving), jake is whiny and reader is just a tad bit mean, unexpirienced but not virgin jake, had huge writers block in the beggining pls spare me 😣

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You could still feel the high heat in your body when you were walking away from your and Heeseng’s place. You probably didn’t look the most presentable, cheeks flush, hair a little bit tousled and your clothes were most likely all wrinkled from being messily thrown out. The walk from your apartment to Jake’s wasn’t longer than 10 minutes since he lived quite close. You checked your phone and it had been 6 minutes past the time you had planned with Jake so you tried to walk a little faster, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling between your legs, the aftermath of your and Heeseung’s sins.

You had met Jake during one of the classes you had together when one day you were late and the sit next to him was the only one available. He was the usual classmate who didn’t talk much but still had a good group friend, in which Heeseung was included. You two didn’t talk much unless when you ask him to help you with something and to you it almost looked as if he avoided talking to you. You often noticed how his cheeks warmed up when you talked to him or how his eyes flickered from yours to the environment around him, which you found cute and made you bite back a smirk each time you interacted. You would be lying if you said you didn’t find Jake attractive. His face looked like it could’ve been sculpted by the Gods above, and when he wore his glasses you swore you could drop all the dignity you had left for him.

It wasn’t too long after that you reached Jake’s apartment building. You took your phone out, texting him that you had reached his house. You didn’t have to wait long to see how good Jake looked today. Sporting basic jeans with a striped polo sweater and his usual black specs, he looked better than ever. Before your mind could wander any further, you walked towards the entrance, greeting him with a smile and following him upstairs and inside his apartment. When you first walked in, you noticed right away how neat his place looked, just like him.

“Nice place you got.” You said with a smile, making him look back at you with a surprised expression. “Oh? Thanks, though! I’m not very good at decorating but I tried my best here.” Jake answered with a shy chuckle. “Yeah, I could tell you did.”

He leads you further into the hallway, entering the door to his room. His room was a reflection of himself. Anyone could tell this was his room just from the way it’s organized and coordinated. The books on the shelves were all neatly placed and organised in alphabetic order. His desk was free of clutter and had only the necessary things placed above it, that, if you considered a picture of what you assumed was his dog necessary. Your eyes found Jake’s and you could see him tense up when you did so.

“Shall we get to work then?” You asked with a smile. “Yeah, yes, of course.” He said quickly moving to sit by his desk. You put your things down and sat next to him, your thighs almost touching since the desk was clearly made for only one person to sit there. You pulled out your laptop and opened the document your teacher had sent you with all the instructions.

“I think we could divide the topics for each other and then discuss which information to keep..” Jake suggested, his eyes flickering between the various topics shown on the screen. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea, Jakey.” The nickname slipped faster than you could catch, but you don’t regret it, especially after seeing how Jake’s ears slowly turned red. You bit your bottom lip to prevent the smirk threatening to form.

You had been working for a little past an hour and you could feel your eyes getting tired from looking at your computer screen for so long. From your peripheral vision, you could see Jake running a hand through his raven hair with a heavy sigh, making your eyes turn to look his way. With your head propped on your hand, you admired as he scrolled through endless reports, trying to find any good content he could for the presentation.

He hadn't noticed your staring, too focused on the screen ahead of him. Your eyes moved down his body. His sleeves had been pulled up a little, just below his elbows, showing off the veins that ran down to his hands. Oh, his hands. Something you always stared at. Anytime you would ask him for help in class you would always get distracted by the hands of the man beside you as he used them to point things out in your textbook. You would almost drool as you stared at his thick fingers, letting your mind wander further than it should.

Obviously, you didn’t keep these things for yourself. This had been a hot topic on your late-night calls with Yunjin, the one you would always run to when you needed feminine advice and didn’t want to hear the constant nagging Jay gave any time you talked about boys. The girl would always laugh at you, mentioning that you must have a thing for nerdy-looking guys or, in her words “pathetic men” (her theory got confirmed when you told her you fucked Heeseung). It wasn’t totally false. It is true that you liked weak men who wouldn’t hesitate to get on their knees for you. Blame you for being tired of guys with big egos who think they’re all that.

Another big sigh, almost groan, snapped you out of your thoughts. You looked at Jake and saw him leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed. “Everything alright?” You asked as you slid your chair closer to his. “Yeah, sorry. Just can’t find any good info for my topics.” He said as he nodded his head towards the screen in front of him. You let out a small sigh as your lips pout with pity, pulling your chair even closer to his. “Don’t be too harsh on yourself, Jakey.” You told him as your hand made its way to his thigh, feeling it tense at the touch. You leaned your body towards his way “You know you can always ask me for help.” our hand moves upwards “Anytime.” You finished with a smile, leaving that last word floating in the air with an uncertain meaning. Jake’s breath got stuck in his throat and he felt the weight of the last word that left your lips. The gears in his head twisted and turned as he tried not to show how the way you were smiling up at him affected him.

You sat back straight in your chair, acting as if you didn’t know what effect you left on him. “Let's ge back to work, yeah?”

It had been a few hours since you started working. During the whole time you could see Jake squirming in his seat, maybe from the tension in the air, so thick that it could be could with a knife. With a sigh, you closed your laptop with a thud, your hands falling to your lap as you turned to look at Jake who seemed to avoid looking you in the eye.

“I guess this is all for today, Jakey.” You said smiling at him. “We can talk tomorrow in class and choose another day to meet again, maybe at my place next time, yeah?” You asked him as you started getting up from your seat, him doing the same. “Oh yeah, we can do that. I was about to finish this part as well so you’re all free to go.” You nodded at his words, your eyes subtly looking him up and down. His hands twitched in his sides. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

Reaching his door, he opened it to let you out. You looked back at him one last time with a slight smirk. His cheeks warmed up and he swayed in his place, suddenly feeling awkward in the loud silence. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You said, now fully smiling. “See you, y/n.” Jake said not moving from his spot.

You walked away from his door, and as soon as you were out of sight, Jake moved to close the door, resting his back against it as he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He brought his cold hands to his cheeks, trying to heat them down. He knew working with you wasn’t going to be an easy task.

This cycle of going back and forth between each other’s houses has been going on for a few weeks now and the project was almost done. The thick tension between you two every time you were together was undeniable and it had Jake feeling tense around you.

Ever since you pulled that thing the first time you went to his house, Jake could seem to fully focus when he was around you, always getting distracted by whatever you did. Even during classes, you seemed to purposely sit next to him, only to spend half of the time subtly touching the side of his leg and moving up to touch his tight. Jake was going crazy from your shenanigans and they were the only thing running through his mind when he laid in bed wide awake, head full of you and his hand running down from his tummy to where his body needed him the most.

It’s not like Jake never had sex or related activities, but he wasn’t the most experienced. He had only had sex with his ex and only serious girlfriend he had and it wasn’t anything too out of this world. He knew you’ve had your fair share of sexual encounters, he knew you had plenty of experience and he knew you were damn good at it because he has heard stories from the men you were with. If you asked him a long time ago, this wouldn’t bother Jake, but now, with all you’ve been doing to him, it makes him feel a bit insecure, because if your teasing escalates further he knows he could never compete with those men. But maybe that’s not what you think.

You were waiting for Jake since he was coming over to finish and wrap up the project. You had spent a good two hours in front of the mirror, trying to make yourself look more presentable for him, something you would never admit to anyone even if they paid you. It wasn’t too late but you could see the sun setting from the view in your window. You were about to check your phone when you heard the doorbell ring, meaning Jake had already arrived.

Walking towards the front door, you checked yourself one last time in the mirror before opening the door. “Hey, Jake! Come on in!” You said stepping aside so he could enter your house. “Hey, um, I brought some snacks, since it’s getting kinda late and I remembered you said you liked these so…” He trailed off, showing you two packs of your favourite snacks, making you surprised he even remembered that. “Oh my god, Jake! You definitely didn’t have to. Thank you, though!” You said smiling at him, his cheeks warming up as usual. “Anyways, let’s get started before it gets too late for you.”

The project was going smoothly since today you two were only doing the final touches and reviewing the whole thing. The dynamic between you and Jake today felt different. There were more lingering touches coming from him who you would accidentally touch his hand but he wouldn’t move away or flinch like he usually does. You were surprised that he acting this way, but you were definitely not complaining, you like this less conserved side of him.

You tried to focus on the text on your screen, but you couldn't help but let your eyes drift off to where Jake was sitting working on the powerpoint. It’s not like he didn’t look good any other day, but maybe it was the dim warm light in your room or maybe it was the moon shining from your window behind him, you weren’t exactly sure, but something about him today had him look so good and you couldn’t avoid the warm sensation in the bottom of your tummy that made your thighs press together.

Your inner turmoil was interrupted by Jake’s little sigh, making your eyes focus back on him. “I’m finished with this.” he said turning to look at you. “Do you need any help with that or…?” he trailed off. “Oh! Um no, I’m finished as well.” a thought came up to your head. “Can I check the powerpoint?” you asked leaning a little towards him. “Ah, yes, of course.” He answered, adjusting his glasses.

You pushed your chair closer to his, purposely making your thigh touch his. Jake felt his heart race when you got suddenly so close, the scent of your sweet yet intoxicating perfume invading his senses. His eyes drifted from your focused face down to your exposed neck, making him lick his dry lips as if to stop himself from letting his lips fall into its soft skin. He shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts of you out of his mind and maintain his composure.

“Well, this looks pretty good!” you said smiling at him, almost missing the way his eyes quickly fall from your eyes to your lips. “Oh, really? Thank y-” “You did such a good job, Jakey.” You interrupted him, as you let your hand fall on his thigh. His lips opened and closed as he tried to speak but no words came out. “You worked so hard on this.” your hand started moving up and down, making him tense up. “Think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” his eyes doubled in size as you spoke so softly, yet your words were filled with nothing but lust.

“Answer me, Jake.” you said, leaning closer to his face. “I- Yeah, please.” he answered, voice barely above a whisper. Your lips immediately connected to his, making him let out a low moan. His lips felt soft against yours, fitting almost like two pieces of a puzzle connecting. Your hand moved further upwards, now dangerously close to where his bulge was growing. His wands that were awkwardly laid by his side moved to lay on your hips, gripping them when he felt your tongue swiping against his bottom lips. He gave you access and you started exploring his mouth, tongues rubbing against each other, making both of you moan at each other’s tastes.

Kissing Jake felt heavenly, almost better than anyone you’ve kissed. It felt good to finally be the one leading. You felt so powerful with him writhing against you, yearning for more than just your kisses. You pulled away so both of you could catch your breath. Jake looked up at you, lidded eyes with a glow on them and his lips red and swollen from you biting on them occasionally. “Fuck, Jake. You look heavenly.” He only answered by chasing your lips, already missing the feeling of your lips on his. You pecked his lips before pulling away again, making him let out a whine. Your pussy throbbed at the sound, never had heard a man make such a beautiful sound, almost like a melody to you.

“Let’s move to the bed, yeah?” you asked breathlessly, making him nod eagerly. Both of you stumbled as you got off from your chairs, almost bumping into each other. Jake was the first one to lay in your bed, head hitting your soft pillows. You followed him, crawling in his way, until your legs were straddling his lap, sitting on it. You leaned down, taking his lips on your again. The kiss was messy and heated, both of you probably getting coated in spit but neither could care any less about the mess. His bulge felt delicious as it grew harder and harder below you, rubbing against your clothed core.

You grinded experimentally against his clothed member to which he let out a groan, feeling the heavenly friction of you against him. You kept slowly and teasingly grinding against him as your hands ran down from his face to his chest stopping by his nipples that felt hard against your fingertips. You pressed on them, his hips bucking up as he let out a yelp, not expecting the sudden stimulation. You smirked against him, pulling away from the kiss, a string of spit connecting you both. Your hands left his nipples to pull at the bottom of his shirt, indulging him to take it off. You stared at his toned torso, not expecting to see the lines on his abs, something you would deal with later.

Your mouth made its way to his neck, starting by kissing all over until you found his sweet spot. Your hands started moving back up again to his nipples, rubbing them, making him whine again as he grinded harder against you. “Never had your nipples played like this, Jakey?” you asked, pulling away from his neck “Tell me, baby. Do you like it?” he had his eyes closed and his brows furrowed as he tried to think of what to say. “F-fuck yes” he stuttered “Feels so good!” he said with a whine, making you smirk at his already fucked out state.

You lowered yourself, mouth moving to kiss from the dip in his chest, down to his abs, sucking on the area there, creating red marks all around. Your mouth kissed lower, following his happy trail until you reached the line of his pants. “Can I take this off, baby?” you asked him, pawing at the button. He nodded quicker than he would like to admit. “Need words, Jakey.” you demanded, wanting to hear him voice out his consent. “Yes, y/n, please, fuck”

With his green light, you started unbuttoning his pants and undoing the zipper. You tapped his hip, signalling him to raise them so you could take them off. He did as he was told and you pushed the jeans off, leaving him in just his boxers that already had a damp spot where the tip of his cock was. You stared at the bulge, already noticing that he was probably huge, making you feel a little nervous about fitting him in you. You squirmed in your spot, feeling an uncomfortable sticky feeling in your underwear, making you aware of how wet you were getting.

Jake whined, snapping you out of your thoughts, looking at you with eyes begging for you to touch him. You smiled at his helpless state “What d’you want, Jakey? Need you to speak or I won’t know.” He whined at your words, his brain feeling like a mush inside his head. “N-need you to touch it, please, just do something.” He answered, squirming in your bed as he felt more and more desperate. You didn’t say anything else as your hand moved to his bulge. Poor baby, was hard as a rock. It probably even hurt. You squeeze his length, pre cum escaping the tip and staining his boxers even more. “More, please! I need more,y/n!” he said with a whine.

You took some pity on him and your hands automatically moved to remove his boxers from him, cock hitting his stomach with a bounce, Fuck, he really was huge, and thick. A long vein ran from the base to the tip and you wanted nothing more than to do that. You lowered your mouth on his cock, licking up from the base until you reached the tip, engulfing it with your lips. You licked a stripe on the slit, making him groan at the delicious but almost overstimulating feeling. Your mouth moved down, taking almost his whole length. One of your hands wrapped around what you couldn’t fit, while the other moved to play with his balls, his hips bucking inside you making you gag around him.

The vision Jake had of you ass up and face down on his cock was what he hoped heaven looked like. Your mouth felt warm and heavenly and he already felt brain fucked. He had never felt such pleasure in his life and he just knew this was gonna be the suck of his life. He dared to look down again and his eyes met yours. He could bust right there and then with just the look you gave him. Your eyes were dark, pupils blown out, making him feel so powerless underneath you. His eyes closed shut when he felt you hollowing your cheeks to suck him even harder.

You could tell he was close. His hips were twitching as well as his whole cock and you could feel him throb in your mouth. You removed his length out of your mouth and licked down to his balls, licking them as your hand moved to jerk him off at a quick pace. His breath was getting shorter as he felt his release come closer and closer. “Oh, f-fuck! Please, Please, y/n!” He didn’t even know what he was begging for, his whole body felt numb, except for the knot on his stomach getting tighter and tighter.

Your lips moved to suck on his tip as your hand kept jerking him up and down. His cock started twitching hard in your grip “y/n I-I’m gonna cum-!” His warm cum spurt inside your mouth, making you moan at the feeling of him filling you up. He was moaning loudly as he rode out his orgasms, chest heaving up and down quickly as he tried to keep breathing. You gave him one last hard suck, making him shudder in overstimulation.

You moved to eye level with him, hand moving up to brush his hair away from his face. “Such a good boy for me, yeah?” He nodded in your hold, face flushed and eyes teary from his orgasm. Your lips met his, tongues instantly meeting. He could taste himself on you, making him groan as the bitter taste touched his buds. You pulled away from the kiss, sitting on him fully clothed. Your hands pulled at the hem of your top, taking it off and leaving your torso naked as you weren’t wearing a bra. Jake’s mouth gaped as he stared at your bare chest, hands twitching at his side, wanting to touch them.

“You can touch them, Jakey.” you smiled sweetly at him, showing him you were comfortable with whatever he wanted to do. He let out a shaky breath as his hands hesitated to travel to your chest. He held your boobs in his hand, fitting them perfectly in his calloused hands. He didn’t really know what to do so you moved your hands to hold his, moving his thumbs to rub and twist your hardened nipples. You quietly moaned at the feeling of his rough fingers touching your sensitive buds. You removed your hands from his, letting him experience you by himself. He pinched on your nipples, making you yelp in surprise. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt-” “Do it again.” you told him “W-What? Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly. “Yes, I liked it, Jakey. Was just surprised.” You answered, smiling at him.

His hands returned to your nipples pinching and rubbing them, making you clench around nothing. As much as you enjoyed the feeling you were getting impatient and needed to have him inside you as soon as possible. You grabbed his hands, taking them off of you as you stood up on the ground to take your bottoms off. You slowly pulled them down along with your panties. His eyes carefully watched as you stripped for him and him only.

You straddled him again, your pussy sitting right on top of his cock, making both of you moan at the feeling. Jake grabbed your hips up and sat against the headboard. “Wanted to have a better look at your face when you fuck me.” he said looking up at you with his puppy eyes. You were out of words so you cradled his face in your hands as you kissed him again. Your hips start moving as if on their own, rubbing our cunt against his length, making the tip bump against your clit. He whined inside your mouth as you swallowed his sounds.

You pulled away, hoisting your hips up as your hand grabbed his length and aligned the tip to your entrance. “W-wait!” he suddenly said making you stop in your movements. “Everything ok?” you asked worried that he might have been uncomfortable. “No, I just- You weren’t prepped and-” your lips clashing against his interrupted him, making him let out a protesting sound. “Don’t worry bout that, Jakey.” You simply said as you grabbed his length again positioning it on your gaping hole.

You slowly sink on him, your mouth opening in a silent moan while he whines in your ear, hands moving to circle your waist. You bottomed down and stayed still for a while to adjust to his big and thick size. The only thing heard was both of your heavy breaths. His hands were comfortingly rubbing up and down your back. When you felt ready you moved your head to look at him. “Ready?” you asked him and he nodded eagerly at you.

You started by slowly circling your hips around his length, both of you moaning at the euphoric feeling. He rested his head against your shoulder, panting in your ear. You circled your arms around his neck as you started to pick up your face. The room was filled with the sound of skin hitting skin and the squelch coming from your pussy. “F-fuck, y/n! Never felt s-so good.” Jake whispered as he felt his eyes roll back at the feeling of your raw cunt moving on his hard cock. “Yeah? You’re filling me up so good, Jakey. Even let you go in me raw.” You grabbed his head to make him look at you. His eyes were low and he had drool almost dripping out of the corners of his open mouth.

You moved around him at a now stable pace, moaning loudly when the tip of cock found the spongy spot inside you. “F-fuck, Jake!” he was stretching you out so good, taking you to cloud 9. You looked back at him, his head leaning back on the headboard, completely fucked out. “Look at you.” you said making him open his eyes, barely keeping them from closing again. “Fucked you dumb, didn’t I?” he nodded even though you weren’t really looking for an answer. “Poor baby, just wanted to be a good boy for someone, isn’t that right, Jakey?” he whined at your words, knowing they were fully true so he nodded his head as his eyes got even more teary, one tear even dropping out. You laughed at his state, knowing he had nothing on his brain but your pussy.

You felt the too-familiar pressure on your tummy starting to build up and his cock twitching again. You bottomed out on him again, grinding your hips down on him as you tried to reach your climax. “Oh God! I’m getting close, Jakey.” you said in a whiny moan” You’re gonna cum with me, yeah?” you felt his cock twitch harder inside you as he nodded at your question, wanting to fulfil your request. Your breath was getting laboured but you tried to maintain your composure for him.

Jake could feel you clench around him, knowing you were almost reaching your high. He slowly moved his hand from your waist to where your bodies met, rubbing on your clit. You let out a surprised yelp as you squeezed hard against him, eyes widening at the unexpected contact. “F-Fuck, Jake!” you said breathing heavily. “You make me feel so good.” Both of your lips met, desperately trying to reach both of your releases. You grinded faster on him, now moaning in sync against each other mouths. His finger rubbed faster on your swallowed nub, making your head spin as you threw it back.

“J-Jakey, I’m so close!” you said as you felt your thighs burn from exhaustion. “Me too, f-fuck!” His hips started slightly bucking upwards, trying to match with your movements. Your synced movements had you moaning loudly, not even caring if you’re gonna get complaints from your neighbours later. The sound of Jake’s whines getting louder along with the frequent twitching of his cock indicated that he was just as close as you. You sped up your movements as you felt the knot in your tummy about to burst.

“J-Jake, I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cu-” you were cut off by your orgasm, almost stopping in your movements with a silent scream. The feeling of your juices releasing against his cock had Jake cumming right after you with a loud whine. The aggressive twitching of his cock along with the feeling of his warm seeds painting your insides felt heavenly. You looked down to see a white ring form around his length, slowly moving up and down as you rode both of your orgasms out.

Your heads rested against each others’ shoulders as you stayed like that for a while, you with the feeling of his hands rubbing shapes on your back soothingly. The sound of both of your panting filled the silent room. The sound of traffic could also be heard from outside and it made you go back to your senses. You got your head up, urging Jake to do the same. You pulled him in one last kiss before you pulled his length out of you, making both of you hiss. You got up and walked towards the bathroom to grab a washcloth. You cleaned yourself up first before going back and cleaning his length for him. He shook from still being sensitive, making you chuckle at him.

You tossed the cloth onto the ground and laid next to him, sighing happily when your head hit the comfort of your pillows. Your hand rested on his chest rubbing circles on it as you simply looked at his peaceful state. The silence in the room wasn’t uncomfortable and you felt like you both made a silent rule of not talking about what happened. He grabbed your hand from his chest and gave it a kiss. “Thank you for taking care of me.” He said as he felt his cheeks warm up. You chuckle and prop your head on your hand to get a better view of him.

“Well, thank me when we get a good grade. This was my thanks in advance.” You said, making both of you laugh. “Yeah, maybe I’ll be the one rewarding you next time.”

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen sim jaeyun #enhypen sim jake #enhypen jake sim #enhypen jake smut #enhypen jake x you #enhypen jake x reader #enhypen jaeyun #jake smut #sim jake smut #sim jake x reader

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pathologicalreid · 2 months

Text

the space between us | S.R.

previously

The adjustment between never being home and always being home seems to take a toll on you.

who? spencer reid x fem!retired!reader category: flangst content warnings: the events of stuck between a rock and a hard place apply, briefly mentions a baby, reader trying to cope with a 180-turn in life, anxiety word count: 2.16k a/n: i meant for this to be fluff and it's definitely a tad angsty. good thing i'm obsessed with spencer and retired!reader. they'll be back.

Slowly but surely, you convinced yourself that the dark green walls of the apartment were closing in on you. Sitting up in bed, you looked at the time on your phone before quickly scrolling through the notifications, half expecting a text from Andi Swann asking you to come in.

She wouldn’t do that though, because she’s not your Unit Chief anymore, and you no longer work for the FBI.

The only text message you saw that piqued your interest was from your husband, letting you know that he was flying home.

Tossing your blanket off of your legs, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Hissing at the feeling of the cold hardwood floors beneath your bare feet, you wrapped your arms around yourself and made way for the kitchen. Creeping slowly on your way, you made sure to keep your footsteps light.

Gingerly, you flipped the light on, wincing as the fluorescence flooded your vision. As your eyes adjusted, you reached up to the cabinet, grabbed a cup, and set it on the counter.

“You’re sneaking around again,” a voice said from behind you.

Jumping, you put a hand over your chest and spun around, “You scared the shit out of me.” You frowned at Spencer, “I thought you were flying home. I just got your text.”

He nodded, walking into the warm light of the kitchen, “I texted you four hours ago that I was flying home from Connecticut.” His hair was messy, and he had already taken his contacts out, telling you that he had been in the bathroom – he had passed by you while you were sleeping.

Your lips tightened to form a small “o”. Leaning back against the counter, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, “How was Hartford?”

Intently, you watched Spencer as he pushed his glasses up on his nose. “It was fine, the UnSub’s in custody, we’ll build the rest of the case from Quantico.” His tone was strictly no-nonsense when he repeated himself, “You’re sneaking around again.”

Letting your arms fall to your sides, you shrugged helplessly. “I don’t do it consciously, you know?” You told him, reaching behind your back to hoist yourself up so you’re sat on the kitchen counter, legs dangling in the air.

“I know,” he said gently, stepping forward so that he was standing directly in front of you. You parted your knees so that he could stand flush with the counter, allowing for minimal space between the two of you. “The fact that you’re doing it subconsciously makes me wonder if there’s a part of you that feels like you need to be quiet in the apartment,” he murmured, reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You pursed your lips for a moment, thinking about an answer before you responded, “It’s late, I don’t want to bother anyone by walking too loudly.”

Based on the look in his eyes, you can tell that he doesn’t believe you, “It’s an old building, the floors are thick and well insulated. Also, the apartment below us is vacant, and you know that.” His words are borderline accusatory, and rightfully so. “Do you feel safe here?”

Surprised, your eyes flittered up to meet his, “Yes,” you answered almost instantaneously.

“Do you not feel at home here?” He asked, further pressing his agenda.

When you and Spencer decided to move in together, you were living in a studio apartment, so his place just felt like the obvious choice. At the time, you weren’t home long enough to make it home, and now it seemed like you were past the point of no return. “Can we go to bed?” You asked softly.

Spencer tenderly placed his hands on either side of your waist, “You’re deflecting. What’s so wrong that you don’t feel like you can talk to me, baby?” You should’ve known better than to answer a question with a question.

Averting your eyes, you looked up at the ceiling in hopes that the action would quell the tears that were filling your waterline. “I just feel so out of place,” you answered, emotion closing your throat.

“In the apartment?” He whispered softly.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you shook your head. Giving up on your dreams of stopping your tears, you bowed your head and let them fall. “In my life,” you clarified. “I thought it would be easy to just go from being an undercover agent to being at home. Maybe that was a lost cause, but I didn’t think it’d be so hard.”

Never wavering, Spencer stayed resilient with you as the dam broke, letting you lean your head on his shoulder and rubbing soothing circles on your back as you cried. “You’re going through one hell of an adjustment period right now.”

Nodding tearfully, you pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes, “I feel like I haven’t been a real person in almost ten years. I don’t know who I am without that fucking job and it’s mauling me.” Briefly, Spencer stepped away from you, filling the cup that you had gotten out with water and handing it to you. “God, I’m a disaster. I’m so sorry,” you muttered, looking down at the glass of water you’d clasped in both hands.

“You are not a disaster,” he insisted. “You’re going through an unfathomable experience and you’re not giving yourself enough leeway,” he stressed, hooking a finger beneath your chin, and lifting your head.

Everything about him seemed soft, and you felt like pieces of broken glass – flying around and damaging everything in sight. You lifted the glass in your shaky hands, bringing the lip of the cup to your own and downing half of its contents.

Spencer studied your facial expression before he spoke again, “I know exactly who you are. You are the single most selfless person I have ever met,” he told you earnestly. “You spent nine years of your life rescuing tens of thousands of people, giving up holidays and birthdays and time with loved ones for the benefit of total strangers.”

Sniffling, you shook your head, “Spence,”

“No, this is true, and I need you to listen to me,” he urged. “One time, you had gotten back from five weeks undercover and, before catching up on sleep, you went to Henry’s birthday party. Solely because you had missed it the year before.” Hesitating for a moment, he resumed singing your praises, “You’re brilliant and funny and beautiful, but I need you to stop being so magnanimous.”

You pulled back, furrowing your brows in innate confusion, “What?”

He nodded, affirming his point. “I need you to be selfish. Operate with your self-interest in mind. Use that to discover yourself. If you keep throwing pieces of yourself away in order to make the people around you happy, then you’ll never really identify your adult self.”

“I don’t know where to start,” you confessed. You were always working; the FBI was your life. “Everyone is telling me to do different things,” you murmured. Spencer wanted you to be selfish, your mother wanted you to have a baby, and every single one of your friends had offered their stress relief methods – most of them unsolicited.

The understanding in his expression made your chest ache, “I think you should talk to someone. Not me, not Garcia, definitely not your mom, but a professional. You should talk your experiences out with someone who can help you work through it, not just like you do with me. I know you hold back details when it’s with me.”

Uncertain, you tried to wrap your arms around yourself again, but Spencer didn’t let you close yourself off. “Okay,” you ventured, “I’ll look into it.”

Putting his hands up, he smiled softly at you, “That’s all I ask.” He stepped back, allowing you to get off of the counter and stand. Spencer gently ushered you into the living room, sitting down next to you on the couch.

Instinctively, you leaned into his warmth as he draped an arm over your shoulders. “I need a hobby. Something to do other than sit at home all day,” you thought aloud.

“We can look for ideas in the morning,” Spencer offered. “Maybe we can go to the store this weekend for supplies.”

Turning your head to face him, you pressed your lips into a thin white line, “Hey, Spence?”

He hummed, “Yes, love?”

“We could get a house,” you proposed. “It could be a good new start for the both of us, and we have the money,” the more you spoke about it, the more you liked the idea. A new start for the new you. Technically, the two of you were still newlyweds, it felt like something you were supposed to do. “We wouldn’t have to keep your books on the floor anymore,” you murmured, absentmindedly drawing shapes on his t-shirt with your index finger.

Your eyes flickered up to see him smiling. “We absolutely can get a house, and you won’t have to tip-toe,” he said pointedly, “it’ll be our space.”

Mirroring his smile, you adjusted slightly on the couch, “Our house.”

As you tucked your feet underneath yourself, you felt his eyes on you, “Are you sleeping alright?”

Groaning, you wiped a hand down your face, “You worry too much. We were doing so well.”

“Did you know that your coping mechanism is avoidance?” He remarked, a hint of teasing in his voice.

You rolled your eyes, “I sleep fine,” you answered simply. It was true, once you were asleep, you slept perfectly fine until the morning. It was falling asleep that you had a hard time with, lying awake and wondering if when you finally fell asleep you would be greeted by nightmares. Nightmares that you had been waiting weeks for but had yet to come. “Let’s uh… let’s call it a problem for the professional,” you faltered.

He nodded understandingly, “You just let me know if there’s anything you need, okay? Anything at all.”

Allowing your body to meld into his, you hummed, “How are you doing with all of this?”

“I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, just to make sure you’re still breathing,” he confessed. Adjusting his glasses, he pulled you a little closer to him. “I’ve seen you more in the past six weeks than I had the previous year, and, selfishly, I’m glad that we get more time together.”

With one hand, you reached up and cupped his cheek with your palm, “I am too, love. It’s new, even though we’ve been together for years, I think we’re lucky to have something that feels new.”

He turned his head to press a kiss to the center of your palm before taking your hand in his, “I think I’m lucky to have you.”

“Sweet talker,” you teased lightly.

You nudged him gently when he went quiet. “I love having you be at home when I get home,” he whispered as if it was a secret. “I suppose I never really thought much of it because it always seemed like an unattainable fantasy.”

But now you were home when he came home. He took time off to spend with you right after you had gotten out of the hospital, but for the past six weeks, every time he walked in the door, you were around. It was almost like the two of you had entered your honeymoon phase. Although, you supposed you had, “Did anyone ask you about the party?”

Spencer chuckled, “Of course they did.”

Part of you supposed it was your penance for getting married in secret – mostly secret, everyone always seemed to forget that Rossi was there – that the BAU was insistent on giving the two of you a wedding. “I never knew profilers had such great memories,” you pondered. “No one else asks me about it.”

“They just want to make sure you’re alright before turning it into a celebration,” he explained. “For the BAU, taking a step back is a big deal,” he leaned his head to the side so that his chin was resting on the top of your head, “you know that, though.”

Nodding softly, you shut your eyes, “I don’t suppose they’d be willing to do a combo housewarming and wedding celebration.”

“Not a chance,” Spencer answered almost a bit too quickly.

You sighed in mock defeat, “We’ll just have to have a party a weekend until Garcia runs out of ideas.”

Slowly, you felt yourself falling asleep again, “Do you want to go to bed?” Spencer murmured.

There was just a moment before you hummed, “In a minute.” You pulled on the sleeves of your sweatshirt so they would cover your hands, “Hey, Spence?”

“Hm?” He said, drowsiness growing in his voice.

You tipped your head back and looked up at him, “I love being home when you get home, too.”

please remember to like, comment, and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #written by margot #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer x retired!reader

899 notes · View notes

luveline · 6 months

Note

Girl pls pls write stripper reader and Spencer where she thinks he would never date her bc she’s a stripper and just a sprinkle of angst with lots of comforting fluff and Spencer reassuring

thank u for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.5k

cw mentioned past domestic/workplace abuse, unhealthy eating habits

Someone broke into my apartment. 9:14AM

Spencer reads the message under the table but forgoes discretion when he registers what it says and who it's from. He excuses himself from the round table, something he isn't even sure he's allowed to do, and hurries out onto the landing.

You answer on the second dial. "Hey, did you see my text?" you ask.

"Are you okay?" He squeezes his phone.

"I'm not sure. I'm fine, but my lock is busted and the door won't stay shut."

"Where are you?"

If you're surprised that he's steamrolling, you don't show it. Spencer leaves work to meet you at the coffee shop you've chosen for refuge, your eyes tired, a small bag of your most important possessions hanging on a slumped shoulder. He hugs you straight away.

"I'm fine," you say into his neck.

He hugs you tighter. "That's good," he says, feeling useless, fingers stroking little paths into your shoulders. He pictured the worst from your text, and seeing you in person is the only true mitigator. You'll talk down bruises and black eyes —you have in the past.

He pulls the story from you as you walk back to his apartment, shoulder to shoulder in the cold street. "It was open when I got home, the door, but I did what you asked me to."

"You didn't go in?" he confirms proudly.

"Not at first."

"You really won't call the police?"

"I texted you."

Spencer takes the strap of your bag from you and throws it over his own. "I'm not that kind of cop. I'm not really a cop at all."

"No, you're a fed, which is worse. The girls at work told me to stay away from you." You wipe under your eyes sluggishly. Sleep clings to you like a shadow trailing behind you, ever-present.

He puts his hand behind your back, worried you'll fall up the steps to his apartment building. "They think I'll what, extort you?"

You shake your head, something sad in the slow side to side. "Girls like me have no business around guys like you."

"You probably get too much business from guys like me."

You laugh, but you both know it's not what you meant. Spencers noticed it more and more lately, nothing so obvious until now, this dead set belief you hold that he's one type of person and you're another. He gets that your work isn't what you wanted for yourself when you were growing up. He knows it isn't easy, even on your 'good' nights. It takes a toll to be seen as you are, nothing left private. But you've always said you liked stripping as much as anyone should like their job. "It's a job," you'd said, having barely known him, tired and hungry, curled up on his couch with nowhere else to go. "Only the luckiest get to really enjoy work. S'why it's called work."

He'd hoped, perhaps in a self-absorbed way, that having more support might make you feel better about yourself; he wanted his friendship to give you some confidence, basically. Before you met Spencer there was no one else you could depend on. It's why you stayed working for a man who broke your wrist until Spencer weaselled his way into your life and made you a bed in his living room for the time it took to get you out. His credentials helped, of course, but you survived it because you're resilient. You're awesome. You've done everything you can with what you have and you don't think it's enough.

You and Spencer take the elevator to his floor, and for the twenty seconds it takes to get there, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder. He's just about to drop his head on top of yours when the doors open, and the slice of quiet you'd both savoured slips like sand between his fingers.

"I can go back and get some of your stuff," he offers, guiding you the short walk to his door. He passes you the key rather than struggle with the lock himself.

Your hand shakes as you push down the handle. "There's nothing worth going back for."

"Don't say that, you have all your clothes there, your couch. You have things. I'll take my car."

"You hate driving."

"I'd hate someone robbing you even more."

"Robbing me again," you correct, holding the door for him.

You didn't have anything worth the trouble, it seems. You keep your savings in a locked box hidden in the bathroom that they couldn't find, and though your apartment is clean and bigger than the one you lived in before Spencer met you, it's mostly empty. You don't have a TV, you're not a collector. They took the radio off of the refrigerator, your microwave oven, and a box of cosmetic jewellery worth chapel change.

"But it's your stuff. You deserve to have stuff." Spencer drops your bag gently and his with less care by the door.

"It's only until the locksmith can come tomorrow," you say with a yawn. "Let the junkies lavish in my stuff for the next twenty hours."

"That's not a problem for you?"

"I don't have the luxury of that being a problem for me, Spence. What am I supposed to do? The locksmith can't come–"

"There are a hundred locksmiths."

"Not that I can afford." You shrug out of your jacket. "Spence, listen to me. It's okay. I can't ask you to do that, anyways. You've done more than enough for me already," you say, sitting on the couch. You perch for a moment like you're trying to be polite until fatigue overtakes you, and you sink into the cushions with a relieved sigh.

Spencer crosses the space between you and kneels by your feet to untie your shoelaces.

"Don't do that," you mumble, hand over your mouth as a second yawn in as many minutes catches you.

"Why not?" He slips your shoes off, letting his hand rest on your ankle. "Wanna watch that weird cooking show–"

"Why aren't you at work?"

He climbs onto the couch next to you, unafraid to sit shoulder to shoulder. "You were having an emergency."

You rub your face with both hand. "I knew I shouldn't have called you. You can't just leave work because of me, Spencer, what if you get in trouble?"

"Someone I care about needed my help, and Hotch understands that." Spencer puts on his big boy pants with a wince. "Do you get that?"

"I don't really… I don't…" You falter. "We're never going to work. You'll never…"

"I'll never what?" he asks insistently, voice lilting up with a little incredulity. He can't help it.

You refuse to answer, turning your face from his.

Spencer knows what you're going to say. He's bad with girls but he's good at recognising human emotion; he sees the same insecurity in himself as he does in you. He knows the feeling.

You're not right, is the thing.

Spencer would kiss you if he thought that would change your mind. But tired as you are, angry with yourself, defeated, he knows it's not a good idea. He takes your hand instead, sewing your fingers together with a deliberate slowness. He brings his other hand to them and strokes the back of your index finger with his thumb, careful not to disrupt your press on nails. He knows they have a tendency to come off with too much pressure, and you're always losing your glue.

"If they really need me to go, they'll call me. But I'm staying here." His thumb moves down to your knuckle. You have little calluses and cuts and bruises everywhere from dancing. He's seen the contusions that line your thighs on a semi permanent basis. "When was the last time you had something to eat?"

"Spencer," you murmur.

"Let me take care of you, please," he says, hand curling around your wrist with extreme gentleness. "You need to eat. You need to sleep. Let me worry about everything else for once, I want to."

You still don't look at him, but you sink down an inch at a time until your cheek is on his shoulder again, like it had been in the elevator. Hesitant, you wrap your arm around his stomach.

"I'm so stupid," you say.

He wonders if that's a placeholder for what you really want to say. You think so little of yourself sometimes, but it's like you've told him before. Not everyone has the luxury of enjoying their job.

"You're amazing." Spencer feels like he's on fire everywhere that your skin touches him. Is he saying the right things? "You are. You're the only person who doesn't see that."

"The only person here, maybe."

"You should always be here, then. With me. That way I can remind you."

You sound more like yourself when you answer, though tiredness lines every word, "Thank you, Spencer. I don't deserve you."

"Yes, you do."

Spencer rubs your hand until you fall asleep, and then he buys you a new toaster oven on his phone, and an industrial security lock. He doesn't know what it'll take to convince you that you deserve him, you deserve better, but he's gonna try.

He presses his cheek to your temple and focuses on the softness of your skin where it touches his.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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glitter-epoch · 2 months

Text

-ˋˏ [ nerve endings ] ˎˊ

≪ zayne x afab!reader ≫ - smut under the cut, 18+ ONLY mdni!!! do NOT!!! - part two of this drabble, but all you really need to know is zayne gave you stitches and neither of you are being normal about it. - warnings: smut at the end, afab reader no gender assigned pet names or references, a couple y/n's, reader got stitches in the first part, no explicit description of wound, slight pain from the wound at one point, fingering, zayne is mean and also anxious, he's real for that, zayne's scars mention

again, 18+ under the cut! mdni!

you’re unscrewing the cap on the ointment zayne ordered for you when your phone rings. the two gigantic strides you take to cross to the kitchen are ridiculous, but you’ve been waiting for him to call since his shift ended.

zayne. his name flashes on the screen, right under the time, 8:08 PM. you fumble to get the phone in your hands and put it up to your ear, cap still balanced between your fingers.

“hi,” you breathe out.

zayne is quiet for a moment. something whirrs in the background, mechanical and smooth.

“hello,” he replies, in that somehow monotonous and matter-of-fact tone. “why are you out of breath?”

“nothing,” you swallow. “just...trying to get the cap off the ointment you got me.”

another moment passes. the soft drone of machinery in the background clicks in your mind, finally-

“are you driving?” you ask. surely he’s not-

“not anymore,” zayne says, and the whirring dies. “i’m in your parking lot. i have extra bandages and dinner for you. i’ll leave them outside if you’re not in the mood for company.”

the feelings that pass through you are like a molotov cocktail; fear and excitement and relief all at once. it all burns in your chest. zayne had said he was going to call, but once it got to be past seven o’clock, you wondered if he’d forgotten. and you didn’t really think he would come see you, but...you had maybe thought he might.

“you got me dinner?” you start, nervously. “that’s too much. thank you.”

you’re in your pajamas, gauze pad ungracefully peeking out over the waistband of your fuzzy blue shorts.

“i’m not dressed,” you murmur, unsure of what exactly your goal is in saying so. you do want him to come up-

“i don’t care about that,” he replies. “but if you need time to put something else on, i can wait. i didn’t call you until eight.”

“yeah,” you huff, “what were you doing?”

zayne sighs. “buying you bandages.”

“quit paying for things!”

you look around your apartment. it’s clean, thankfully, uncluttered and dusted; countertops gleaming to the usual degree once they’ve been wiped down. he says he doesn’t care about your outfit, and you believe him.

you can see him in your mind’s eye- buttoning your trousers, zipping them up like it was nothing.

“i’m glad you came,” you say, chest buzzing with nerves. “i’ll come let you in. do you remember which building i’m in?”

“i’m already outside.”

you scamper all the way downstairs, gliding over the complex’s steps so fast it’s a miracle you don’t slip and fall. by the time you get to the bottom, you're out of breath again; the cut over your hip sore.

zayne’s hair is blown over his forehead by a cold breeze that curls in through the open door of the apartment building, quickly sucking all of the warm air out of the lobby. you step aside, ushering him in.

“oh, it’s cold,” you complain, narrowing your eyes out the glass door as you shut it behind him. “are you cold? no. you have that massive coat.”

zayne looks down at his black overcoat; the sharp triangles of the lapels framing his jaw, which is just as sharp. he takes one pale hand out of his pocket to brush the hair out of his eyes. you’re smart enough not to ogle this time, but your eyes do snag on something-

scars. little ones, all over the back of his hand; one deeper, longer one down the center.

if he notices your gaze falter, he doesn’t say.

“it is cold,” zayne chides. “you shouldn’t have come down here in shorts.”

“i was barely outside,” you retort.

“why are you wearing them in the first place?” is zayne’s reply.

“they have cows on them,” you mumble, pointing at the wide nose of one on your shorts. “here, come upstairs. is that soup?”

“yes,” zayne replies simply.

his tone is a little icier than it had been at akso, but his porcelain cheeks are red, and his lips are wet with cold, too. there’s a small black thermal bag on his other arm, and mug in that hand (also scarred, you see, and his fingers move around aimlessly). he’s nervous.

he’s nervous.

you’d grin if you weren’t about to throw up.

. . .

he’s so tall. his shadow seems to stretch out across your living room as he sits down next to you on the sofa; half-a-cushion away. it seems intentional.

“you didn’t have to heat it up for me,” you scold.

zayne nearly ignores this, but provides you with a small mm and shake of his head. “you shouldn’t be reaching up that high, at the microwave; your stitches could tear.”

you inhale, trying to settle in as he clearly does the same beside you. the back of your couch barely meets his shoulder blades. the lights are low, the overheads in the kitchen a distant glow. the resting screen of the television, the far-off lights of linkon, and one small lamp on the side table remain.

zayne’s taken his jacket off, and his usual white button-down is gone. the charcoal-grey slacks remain (they’re tailored. they have to be. nobody’s legs look that good in department store slacks).

his shirt is black, and thermal; with subtle waffling. it looks soft, but it’s tight around his biceps. at this waist, the shirt leaves a tiny bit of room- he's strong, his shoulders are wide, but he’s lean, you think.

things you’d never have noticed in his usual uniform, and also, things you do not need to and should not be noticing.

you avert your eyes only to find him rolling up his sleeves.

Lord. zayne fluffs the rice inside a small plastic box with a fork and stirs a couple of glazed chicken strips into the container, a healthy amount of steamed broccoli also placed in the side tin. instead of handing it to you, he slides it across the coffee table as a small curl of steam rises from the rice.

the vein that starts in center of his palm and disappears through his inner-wrist flexes as he pokes the fork into one of the broccoli florets.

“you don’t eat enough vegetables,” zayne remarks.

he has his glasses on. you’re too busy noticing this to offer a snide reply to his comment. when you do, it’s too late. he’s noticed your staring.

“you don’t eat with me enough to know what i eat,” is your pathetic retort. “and you’re a cardiologist, not a dietician. get another degree and then we’ll talk.”

zayne’s smile is small but victorious. he reaches for the mug on the table and shifts until he’s facing you, knees pointed at yours.

then he starts unscrewing it.

“your heart health is more dependent on your diet than almost anything else,” he says, voice low, almost teasing. “other than the aether core, of course.”

the choice to unscrew the cap right at you, his knuckles moving deftly to twist off the lodged lid, that same center-vein and a few new ones appearing on his forearm. it’s so blatant you’re glaring incredulously at him by the time he offers it to you.

zayne blinks a little after a moment of you ignoring him, hazel eyes looking a little concerned at your coldness. “it’s soup,” he offers. “not as warm as the rice, so you can hold it.”

you lower your chin at him, brows low: “what are you doing?”

it’s more of a statement than a question. and zayne (who’s been weaving this game all day, but now seems to be anxious), says-

“i’m giving you this soup i made.”

he sets it down on the table.

“it’s just broth and some vegetables. protein would have been too much, you already have your chicken.”

for a moment, you think you’ve gained the upper hand. but your eyes trail after his wrists as he sets the thermos down on the table and plucks the fork out of the rice, chicken still attached.

one corner of his lip curls when he notices.

zayne presents the fork to you. when you don’t accept, he cocks his head.

“i came here to make sure you eat dinner and change your bandage,” zayne says. you’re not sure if it’s pure dishonesty; his voice is too difficult to read, as always. “i’m not sure why you’d refuse the food.”

at that, you take the fork, and eat the bite off the end.

“i’m not refusing the food,” you swallow. “and thank you. this was very kind of you. i’m...i’m really surprised, actually.”

the mirth fades from his features. “surprised?”

“i just assumed you weren’t going to call,” you add quickly, almost guilty over how suddenly his demeanor shifts. “it was getting late. i didn’t want to bother you.”

“i told you i’d call,” zayne replies softly. “if i say i’ll do something for you, i will.”

“you do have a good track record of that,” you reply.

he nods. “i know i do.”

gulp. you eat more of the rice, trying to occupy yourself. “this is very good. thank you.”

“you don’t have to say it again. why were you so worried about me calling?”

you peer at him, a ball of rice in your cheek. “i-” you murmur over the rice, and swallow quickly. “i wasn’t worried. well, i worried something might have happened to you, but it would have been fine if you didn’t call. you already gave me stitches for free.”

“i’m your doctor,” is his reply.

“you’re my cardiologist.”

“primary care doctor,” zayne counters. and he leans forward, puts his elbows on his knees. he’s still a head taller than you. “are you averse to me caring about all the other parts of you?”

you inhale sharply to try and hide the flush that bursts in your cheeks. the next time you swallow, he follows it; watches your throat bob.

“no, i’m not averse,” is your stupid reply.

he blinks slowly, like a cat. the smirk returns. “mm.”

“mm,” you bite out, dropping the fork into the box of rice and pressing on the lid. “that was very g...you know i think it was good, but i’m not super hungry right now. i’ll put it away for later, unless you want some?”

you busy yourself with gathering up the box and the mug, so by the time you steal another nervous glance at zayne, it’s the first time you’re seeing him tilt his head forward at you. the pools of his eyes see everything; it’s like he’s looking straight into your skull.

“y/n,” he murmurs, slow.

your own name shocks you. there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s not going to say anything else. it’s not just your name, it’s a question.

he’s asking you what you want.

and he’s ridiculously patient as you sit there, box of rice and thermos in hand, blinking like a dear in headlights. you think of chickening out.

“can you help me change the bandage, please?” you nearly whisper.

. . .

“this cut is technically over your lumbar plexus. there’s a nerve here,” zayne continues. he drags the pad of his finger over the flesh between your hip and the curve of your waist, examining and admiring, like you’re a specimen. “obturator.”

you’re practically ignoring him at this point; your head is swimming, your face is hot as an iron. “obfuscator.”

he actually laughs, albeit softly. “obturator. with a ‘t’.”

“yeah, that’s what i said.”

you’re standing in front of the sofa, holding up the heavy bottom edge of your crewneck. zayne sits on the coffee table in front of you. his left hand traces over the right side of your belly, dances around the stitches he put in earlier. his right hand holds the waistband of your pajama shorts down; pins them to what’s nearly the middle of your thigh.

you’re looking up at the ceiling, trying not to think about how much of the skin over your pelvic bone is exposed. you’re also trying to steal glances at zayne, who you’re certain isn’t really here, and must be a dream.

even looking at him is too much, though.

“you looked that up,” you whisper. “you’re a heart doctor, not a hipbone doctor. you looked up what those nerves were called in the parking lot before i came and got you, cuz’ you knew you were gonna do this.”

“do what?” zayne wastes no time.

“do...”

well. you give up, not wanting to accuse him of seducing you out loud.

he pulls your shorts up for a moment and grabs the ointment beside him. “this shouldn’t hurt,” he says softly. “i’m only putting it around the sutures, not on the cut. then i’ll put a new bandage on.”

“okay,” you breathe.

he pauses. looks up at you. “okay?”

as in, are you okay?

you muster up the courage to look down at him, not actually wanting to alienate him. if he left now, you’d absolutely start sobbing.

“yeah, i’m okay. sorry.”

“don’t apologize. hold still.”

he spreads the ointment onto his fingers. like vaseline, it appears iridescent against the low-light of the television and the distant scape of linkon. you’re trying not to drool over the two fingers he’s placing over your hiphone when you remember.

“your scars,” you say, softly, a little nervous. “were they accidents?”

zayne stiffens. weighs his words. “essentially.”

you nod, not wanting to press any further. “not that it matters-”

you gasp as he starts to spread the ointment around the sutures; a barely-stinging, mostly-cold sensation fluttering like soft wings across your skin. his fingers are cold, not as cold as usual. he’s trying to keep them warm for you.

“yes?” zayne murmurs.

“not that it matters,” you continue, trying to steady your breathing. “but i think they’re beautiful. like tree roots.”

zayne stops for a moment. inhales. you watch the breadth of his shoulders rise and fall until he continues working, circling the cut over your hip with glossy fingers.

“do you?” he asks. almost a whisper.

you furrow your brows at him, surprised to hear a hint of insecurity in his tone. once he secures a new bandage over the wound, you know you’ve waited too long to respond.

“of course,” you manage.

he looks up at you, then; narrow jaw angled expectantly, his jaw shut tight.

“you like them?” he asks again, and his voice is darker than usual.

god.

you nod, unsure of how else to say it. “i like them,” you start. “i like...i like you, yes.”

zayne watches you with such intensity you wonder if he’s trying to melt you down like iron. his fingers tighten on your waistband where he holds down the right corner of your sleep shorts; then he pulls that side down further, other hand coming down over the slope of your waist.

he grips you. his palm ignites with ice; suddenly, extremely cold. you gasp.

“you like me.” zayne challenges.

“i like your scars,” you argue, but you can’t take it back. you’ve already said it.

“you like both,” he replies. his palm smooths down your waist, then snakes around to your front. he places both hands flat to your belly.

you let go of your crewneck, surprised, as he runs his hands up your front and then wraps them around your ribs, caging you in on either side.

“there are nerves here, too,” he mumurs. he doesn’t have to lift his arms up much to reach you like this; he’s barely reaching up to begin with. “an intercostal.” again, his hands dip lower, equally soft and calloused. his thumb presses down right under your ribs. “subcostal.”

“you’re making these up,” you huff, trying not to squirm, not to look too enraptured.

“you were confident enough in my medical expertise to let me put stitches in you.”

“well,” you breathe, “i trust you.”

“you do?” zayne remarks, like he knows exactly how much you trust him; but maybe it astonishes him. “you do...”

“this is your sacral plexus,” he says next, pressing two thumbs in just to the right of your navel. he goes lower, spreads his hands out; they fan like wings as they travel, colder and colder as he nears your pelvic bone. “obturator, again. this is lower, on your thigh; femoral.”

“i’ve heard of the femur.”

he stops to laugh. “you, are...”

you laugh with him, because if you don’t, you’ll scare off; truthfully, you’re deeply afraid of him looking at you underneath your clothes.

he senses this.

“you don’t want me to look at you?” zayne asks, with genuine confusion.

you look down at him. “no, it’s not that.”

“it is. you’re afraid.”

“not of you.”

“of me looking at you,” zayne replies. he considers this, brows knit together in discontent. “you have no idea how many times i’ve thought about seeing you like this.”

his voice is sanguine. this is new for him, too; you’ve both never been here.

zayne looks up at you. he wants to see you, wants to touch you, wants you.

his fingers curl over your waistband, but he stops. “yes or no?”

you watch him, trembling under his gaze, under his grip.

you can’t say it, but you nod. yes.

he looks down instantly, propelled forward, but as he pulls down your shorts, revealing your panties; he seems more interested in your navel. zayne lifts your crewneck with one hand and lets your shorts fall, adjusting as you step out of them. one hand comes flat to your navel, the other runs across the thin fabric covering your heat.

you inhale. the hand on your stomach flexes; small jolts of cold prick your skin.

zayne watches goosebumps rise there. his mouth is open, you notice- just barely, like he doesn’t even know.

“i don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says, almost slurred. “the cold.”

“no, no, it’s fine. i like it.”

he flashes you what’s almost a glare, like it can’t be true. “another thing you like.”

“if it’s you, i like-”

he brushes the pad of his thumb over your clothed cunt; catches the hood of your clit. maybe he doesn’t notice at first, but when you jolt, he hums.

“mmm,” he says. “what were you going to say?”

“if it’s you i like all of it,” you ramble off, “anything. what are you doing?”

“taking my time.”

he presses his thumb to that same spot, now that he’s found it, and rubs circles. meanwhile, you bend backwards; he grabs your waist, steadies you upright, and drags his frozen palms up and down your hips.

“you have to stand up straight, or you’ll tug on the stitches. that will hurt.”

“i don’t...care.”

“that’s only because you haven’t done it yet. hold still.”

you look down at him, gasping as he presses a kiss to the flesh above your panties, next to your cut. his lips are soft, warm, unlike his hands; sheen from his own biting. he does it again, and when you jolt, his grip is firmer.

“i won’t do anything to you if you’re going to tear your stitches,” zayne murmurs.

he loops his fingers through the legs of your panties, pulls them down. you nearly shriek.

“zayne!”

he hasn’t looked down yet, yet; he’s looking into your eyes. “that would be malpractice. also, i can’t stand to hurt you. i won’t, actually- so please, hold still.”

“it’s your fault i can’t be still.”

“try harder.”

when zayne’s gaze lands on your bottom half, naked, the goosebumps on your belly traveling to your cunt; you can tell that he’d been looking at you in the eyes not just to knock you off balance. he’d been preparing himself.

you’d be naive to think he doesn’t know what to do next, but for a moment, you think he might not- his pupils are big as moons.

“hold still,” he says again. this time, with fervor. “please, hold still.”

he touches you like he’s going to work; like he’s been studying for this his whole life. he keeps one hand on your ribs (clearly obsessed with physically feeling your breath hitch) and runs his fingers up the inside of your thigh, opposite of the wound on your hip.

zayne looks up at you once before dragging his finger through the center of your core.

you gasp.

he cocks his head, and grinds his jaw, icy fingers tightening around your ribs. “fuck.”

he keeps exploring, but you’re so stunned to hear him curse, practically drunk just hearing him talk, that you’re too busy examining his stoic but somehow awestruck expression when he finds your clit with his thumb.

“zayne,” you lean forward.

his brows knit together a bit when you say his name, almost confusion, almost disbelief. “say it again, please-”

he doesn’t have to ask, really; you gulp it out. “zayne...”

he lurches forward and presses a kiss to your navel, almost harsh. it stops you from leaning forward too far, but you feel the tug on your stitches.

“ouch,” you hiss.

it’s too loud. zayne hears you; drops you immediately. you’re colder than you were with his hands on you.

“did i hurt you?” he demands.

you grab him, actually; take his hands back, put them where they were.

“no, no- keep going, please, don't...”

you don’t finish. he hears you; rubbing circles with his thumb into the bundle of nerves at the peak of your core. it’s the only finger he can use, technically, from where you’re standing, but something about it is insane.

you’re so worked up about him touching you, breathing in and out like you’ve just come up from underwater; you forget how good it feels, how it will feel, once he finds-

“hm,” you swallow, choking over a gasp.

zayne doesn’t press harder; doesn’t speed up. “like this?”

you nod. his sigh is audible, ragged.

“you can say it, though, can’t you?”

you blink down at him, cheeks burning. “y-yes, like this.”

zayne growls, almost; softly, and digs his opposite fingers into your ribs. you’re not certain, but he may be feeling around for the best spot to feel your heartbeat.

“there’s too many nerves here,” he rasps. “to name. but you’re not really thinking about that right now, are you?”

“i like listening to you,” you choke out.

zayne smirks. it’s a little broken, with how enraptured he is. “i thought you liked my hands.”

“scars,” you retort.

“that was a terrible deflection.” zayne removes his hand from your ribs, too fast, moves down and presses one finger to your heat, inside your folds; he tests it. “can i...”

you lurch forward. he catches you, lets you drape over his shoulders. it was cruel of him to pretend you could stand the whole time, in the first place.

“alright,” he rasps, one big hand rubbing the small of your back. “come here.”

you half-stand, he half-pulls you to the sofa. a red streetlight beneath your apartment blears like a star through the window with the moisture gathering in your eyes.

zayne helps you lay down, slowly; has you put your head on the armest, and your body in his lap.

“this will be easier,” he says, smoothing his palm down your front. “try to lay flat.”

you grind your hips into him, a little humiliated. zayne bucks up; drags a hand over his mouth, either equally humiliated or furious with you.

he snakes his left hand underneath your crewneck and finds your nipple. he squeezes it, experimentally; you arch and he nods.

“see? you have more room to move.”

your nipples pebble under him as he moves about, letting his fingers crawl up to dip into the divot between your collarbones. he presses down there, leans into the ragged breath you take.

“your hoodie,” he hums. “do you want to leave it on?”

for a split second, you’re nervous to take it off. but when you lock eyes with him, and see how much he’s blinking, how desperate he is (despite pretending not to be) almost all of your insecurities vanish.

you sit up, pressing into his lap to shrug off the crewneck. he’s hard underneath you- big.

“oh, my god,” you whisper.

“y/n,” he groans.

zayne exhales sharply and gently cups the space between your shoulder and throat to push you back down. it dawns on you how strong he is, how easily he could throw you around. that, you think, is not in his nature.

he presses his palm flat to the space between your breasts. you watch his eyes dart around, taking in every inch of your torso, of your now naked body on top of him.

abruptly, he takes your clit with the pad of his finger again; but only for a moment, as he tests his middle finger at your center again.

“there are nerves here, too,” he says darkly. “you don’t care about that anymore. can i?”

you nod, practically shimmying down his lap to bring him closer. “yes, please, yes.”

he dips one finger into your cunt, experimentally- but it’s easy. he slides the one finger in, and when you gasp, he takes his chance to slide in a second. you almost sit straight up.

he starts pumping, excruciatingly slow. “do you have any idea how guilty i’ve felt?”

you squirm, whining; he says nothing about it.

“how many times you’ve come in to the office and not known i wanted to touch you like this? you come in for stitches on your hips, here,” he says, dragging his free hand down to ghost over the bandage. “i couldn’t believe it. and you had no idea i wanted you like this; it’s been agony.”

“i did know,” you lie.

“not entirely,” zayne presses, pumping faster in and out of you, “or you wouldn’t be so worked up.”

his hands are so big, his fingers are so long; you can’t imagine being fuller than this.

“zayne,” you whimper. it’s astonishing to you that you’ve ended up like this, but you can’t be bothered to care how you sound.

he breathes deeply, like it’s sex for him every time you say his name.

“you’ve wanted this,” zayne drawls. “how long?”

“always,” you gasp. “a-always.”

“fuck, y/n.”

he picks up the pace one more time and you know this is it- he's determined, needs to see you cum. you squirm and writhe around in his lap, and his free hand follows every inch of it; smoothing up and down your body, but you’re almost certain he’s trying to rile you up more than he’s trying to soothe you.

the coil in your stomach is tightens, taught like a string; you’re close.

zayne leans down and presses a kiss to the shell of your ear.

“i know everything about you,” he murmurs. “about your body. i know how your heartbeat feels; i’ve stitched you together. but this...is better than anything i could have imagined.”

you cry out as you come undone, clenching around zayne’s fingers. he pulls you up into him, careful to keep your hips flat as he holds you to his chest. you bury your face in his neck, riding it out, his fingers still inside you.

“do your stitches feel alright?” he hums.

“shut u-up.”

•✧•

if you know medicine and the nerves are wonky i'm begging you. remain quiet. thanks to ⚡ anon for requesting the first part of this!!! love u all!!

@lost-in-time-wanderer ur tag <3

#l&ds #l&ds zayne #love and deepspace #l&ds smut #l&ds x reader #love and deep space x reader #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace smut #l&ds zayne x reader #zayne x mc #zayne x reader #zayne x you #zayne x y/n

859 notes · View notes

jazzsonly · 1 month

Text

ʟᴏɴᴅᴏɴ.

paring(s): jenna ortega x g!p!reader

warning(s): smut, p in v, unprotected sex, mentions of past break up, mentions of drugs, smoking, drinking, cheating, sex in a bathroom, sex in front of an open window, no pronouns used for reader, uhh that’s it i think(?)

summary: you get invited to jenna’s engagement party a year after your break-up.

────────✬────────

the crisps sound of the cigarette burning crackled as your lips wrapped around it, taking a long drag you let the smoke ease through your nose before you threw the stick to the ground and stepped it on, twisting your heel to put the burn out.

nothing but a flickering street light mixed with the red light of the street light illuminated over you face, as the rain drizzled you stood on the empty sidewalk looking up at the new york apartment building, the white invitation, that you had ripped apart weeks ago, was now tapped together in your hand’s tight hold.

“excuse me?” you let out a faint ‘huh’, turning your head in the voice’s direction.

there stood an unfamiliar man clad in a dark suit.

“are you here for the engagement party? could you tell me which building it is? i’m little the lost.” he ended his words with a slight chuckle to ease the tension, clearly telling the mood you were in.

“yeah. i’m heading up there now, i’ll walk you up.” you offer, finally getting collected enough to even go in, in the first place.

the man smiles, stepping close and you both turn your heads to either side of the road before jogging across it.

1580.

from very fresh memory, you press code to access the apartment building’s front door.

“you live here?”

“nah. i know the person who does.” you offer in a sulking tone.

the man nods his head with his mouth in an ‘o’ shape. “you know jen?”

“how do you know her?”

“oh, uh, my girlfriend and her are really close so i got invited by association. my girlfriend is already here, i’m just running late from work.”

you nod, uninterested.

“how do you know jen?”

“who’s your girlfriend?” you ignore his question as you step into the elevator.

“emma. you don’t like answering questions do you?”

“jen and i used to date.” you shrug off pressing the number 4.

a face of realization came over the man, “you’re y/n?”

“and you are?” this elevator couldn’t be moving any slower.

“john.”

silence had fell over you two as the shaft came to a stop, you both stepped out at the same time, coming face to face with your’ destination.

music and chatter could be heard through the door that held a sign that read, ‘just come on in.’

“well, cheers. thanks for walking me up.” john offers a smile before disappearing into the direction of the kitchen.

you stay planted by the front door, scanning the place, there were a number of faces you recognized. co—stars of jenna and mutual friends of yours.

as you looked over the familiar apartment your eyes caught the big sign that hung from the ceiling, ‘congratulations to jenna and ari!’ in a fancy golden fond with glitter around it.

i need a drink. the thought waved over you and immediately your feet moved to towards the kitchen as did john.

to your good fortune the kitchen was empty.

scanning over the choices of refreshments, you skipped over the soda and water, going right the alcohol where you would find patron to occupy your grievances.

“y/n? hey!”

a mouthed ‘fuck’ followed with the roll of your eyes before you turn to face jenna’s co—star and your mutual friend, mason.

“hey, mas! long time no see.” you face excited as you let the man pull you into a ‘bro’ hug.

“i know, it’s been like a month since we last linked up.”

you nod, taking a big sip from the red solo cup. “ah, you know, busy, busy, busy.”

you catch the way he nods his head awkward, knowing you’d barely talked to any of the friends you shared with jenna since the split.

“you working on anything new?”

“yeah, i just booked this dc movie. i start directing in a few weeks.”

“that’s great! i’m glad to see you here...”

you wanted to crawl into a hole in die.

“it’s good you and jenna are on good terms after everything. you two create magic together, romantic or not.” he reaches and pants your shoulder in support.

“but i gotta get back to dylan and ethan, you should come say hi later, yeah?”

“sounds like a plan.” a plastic smile flashed from you, immediately dropping when the boy walked away.

safe to say you needed more than just a drink now but a cigarette.

downing what little was left in the cup, you easily made yourself up the stairs that led to the bathroom which held three stalls and an open window, only two girls stood by the mirror doing what seemed to be gossiping. you flash a smile, making your way over to the window where you lit another malboro.

i can’t believe she’s getting married.

all your thoughts seemed to be consumed with the same six words. to be truthful, it was justified because how you could you come to terms with your ex-girlfriend of six years, that you were very much not over getting married just as year after your split.

a deep inhale consumes you as you thoughts wash over you, your eyes counting the city view.

where did it all go wrong?

“you showed up.”

your eyes flutter at the voice, immediately you hit the cigarette.

jenna.

“of course i made it. wouldn’t wanna miss your big day.” you turn, you body language filled with as much sarcasm as your voice.

you take in her body, she looked the same if not better a year later. well, better than the pictures you found while instagram and media stalking her.

“you could’ve said hi, you know? but knowing you, you probably would’ve disappeared after your cigarette.” she gestures to the stick that sat between your pointer and middle.

your head tilts as you smirk a smile, eyes going to the stick and back to jen. “join me?”

wordlessly the woman steps forward, her eyes never leaving yours she attempts to grab the cigarette but swiftly, you pull back, nodding your head ‘no’ before bringing your hand up to her lips, letting her inhale.

“you been standing in the rain? you’re all wet.”

looking back out the window, “i was contemplating if i even wanted to come in or not. let my sorrow consume me far away from you or right in front of you.”

“always been a battle of yours, huh?”

wordlessly, you reach forward, throwing the lit object from the window.

“when did you meet your finance?” you inquire, a small smirk coming over your face to which jenna rolls her eyes at.

“6–8 months after we split.”

you scoff, “you move on quick, and i think you mean after you left. we didn’t split. you made that choice.”

she squints, stopping to study you for a moment.

“i didn’t leave. the relationship was toxic and you knew it. you knew then, and you know it now but your pride would let you accept it.”

“just because we were in love doesn’t mean we were right for each other, y/n.”

dramatically you throw your hands up, letting them harshly fall back down to your side.

“so, what? we argued? who doesn’t? that doesn’t mean our relationship was this big tumultuous thing, jenna!”

“look at us, we’re not even together, i’m engaged and somehow we are still arguing. we should’ve never gotten together, i should’ve never mixed business with pleasure.”

it was true, you and jenna started off as co-workers.

you, being a quite known director had landed one of the many positions on ‘wednesday’, a job you’d had been quite a fan of considering you’d previously had a hugeee crush on jenna as she rose to ‘it girl’ status in the film world.

not to mention, ‘addams family’ was one of your favs growing up.

essentially, after the first two to three weeks of filming you and jenna really started to form a closeness. you’d started a traditions where at least one person on set gets pranked every wednesday and jenna, being who she was, just loved this.

wanting to get in on the pranking action, she sparked up conversation with you which formed into you visiting her trailer to plan your next to prank, which then turned into you asking her out.

from there, your relationship spouted.

at the start you guys held a pretty content relationship with each other, bickering placed between you two at times but nothing too serious to break up—well, until your first real argument a year in.

you had gotten another job after the first season of wednesday aired, directing for marvel’s new show ‘hawkeye.’

normally after the first day of filming is done, the cast goes out to a dinner to celebrate, unfortunately for everyone paparazzi got a tip of one of the stars of the show, haliee steinfeld, was out to dinner so of course they showed up. in the mix of every thing a few pics of you and haliee were snapped, which caused dating rumors.

let’s just say, when you got home jenna was not happy with you. the situation even causing you two to split up, for a week, but still it was a split up.

over all, your and jenna weren’t ones to agree on the bigger things which caused you ‘break up’ in the long term of your six year relationship and somewhere along the lines it became too much for the young actress as she already had enough to stress over with fame so she called it quits, leaving you to self-destruct with drinking, smoking, drugs, and partying.

in the mix of your wicked lonesome you’d always thought somewhere, somehow you and jenna would end up on the same street at the same time but just a month ago did you receive an invitation to her engagement party.

“if you feel that way, why’d you even invite me? i believe one of the last things you said to me was about how you never wanted to see me again.”

she leans back like she’s shocked by your words.

“our relationship might have been a mess but we spent six years together, i learned a lot from you and us in those six years. you’ll always be special to me, y/n, that’s why i want you here.”

“six years gone is just a couple of months.” you grit, turning to walk away in a haste but failing as the woman grabs to your wrist.

she pulls you toward her, a little to close if you ask anyone else, especially her fiancé.

“don’t walk away from me, y/n! i know it hurts but can you just be here for me? can you just be happy for me?”

“do you even love her?”

“of course i do, i wouldn’t marry someone i didn’t love.” her hand was still firmly around your wrist.

“ok, so,” a bitter chuckle falls from your lips. “are you in love with her?”

you could see jenna’s tongue roll around in her mouth in distaste as she turned her head to the side and back up to you.

“why are you asking me all this? all i did was ask you to be here for me.”

again, you let a bitter chuckle slip past your lips. “you’re not even in love with the girl and you’re gonna marry her.”

“i never said tha—”

“you didn’t have to. i know you, jenna—i mean, come on we dated for six years, you’re gonna have to do better at lying than thi—”

“i’m not lying!” she defended, finally pulling her touch away.

“yes you are.” you couldn’t be more amused in this moment than you had the past year.

“you know what, i’m not doing this. don’t stay. i don’t care.”

this time jenna is the one to try to walk away but you grip her wrist the same she had done yours, pulling her back to you but this time even closer, your bodies together.

“kiss me.” it came out softer than you intended, almost like a whisper but raspy and firm.

“i—i can’t. i can’t do this with you.” she attempts to pull away but your arms wrap around her waist, keeping her in place.

you lean down, only getting the chance to brush your lips over her’s as she quickly turns her head to the side, fighting any and all temptation.

wordlessly, you let your lips connect with her cheek and gracefully move down to her jaw before lifting your head to stare back to the woman you were so familiarly enamored with.

“jenna, kiss me.” you grip the sides of her face, pulling her in, to which she definitely no longer fought from by the way she kissed you back, seemingly even more in need of it than you.

you could taste the cigarette from each other’s lips, her breath mixed with cherry and your’s with the drink you had, had earlier.

mindless thoughts flew through your head in the moment, your body so heated with final desire it melted to the inside of you. while, jenna’s filled with so many thoughts she could probably explode from them in this moment.

she knew she shouldn’t be doing this and not just because she were with someone else but because your relationship would bring nothing but chaos of heartache, but damn she loved you.

she were in love with you, even after all this time. even after being with someone else, let alone engaged to them.

nothing compared to then taste of your lips that were firmly, but sloppily moving against her’s with haste in these very seconds. or the way your hands traveled across her, up from her waist down to her ass, which you gripped harshly in a wanting manner.

alone in the bathroom, only your pants of eager desire could be heard. shamelessly all over each other, just inches from the big open window for the world to see.

quickly but surely, you flip jenna’s body, her hands immediately holding onto to that window as you hike her black dress up before impatiently undoing the strings on your sweatpants that you let drop to your ankles, along with your boxers.

you harden cock sprung free, hollowly brushing against her ass.

“i missed you so much.” you wish in her ear before kissing it.

“arch a little more for me.” your tone was soft spoken with desire.

with your left hand pressed against her lower back you use your right to align yourself before slowly sliding in, letting a groan fall from your lips and your head throw back. you couldn’t believe what was happening after such a long time.

neither could jenna believe her actions but as tempting as you were it was bound to happen. her head pressed against the window as her eyes closed in fancy, mouth firmly open with pretty moans to fall from them.

your hands gripped her waist, fingers digging into her sides as your hips move in a back and forth motion, going in and out of her while your eyes watched the sight in awe.

“tell me you love me.” you demand.

“i love you.” she easily complies.

“again.”

“i love you.”

“again.”

“i love you.”

“fuckkkkk.” you draw out, moving with more pace.

“i love you too.” you words were as just as much fire to jenna as her’s were to you.

you enflamed her in way you were half clueless to but could definitely feel by the way she pushed back trying to get you impossibly deeper and closer.

“fuck, baby. if you keep doing that i’m gonna cum.” your head flies back in pleasure.

gaining a smidge of strength in the mix of your motions, jenna pushes off the window into you.

“i’m gonna cum too. i wanna cum with you.”

“keep going.” you utter, moving impossibly faster as you feel the build up in your body set to release, assuming jenna felt the same by the way she clenches around you.

“kiss me, kiss me.” you order, leaning down to meet the girl’s lips.

you moved your motions a few more times before feeling jenna’s juices gush over you.

you followed shortly behind, letting everything go inside of her.

there was moments of silence before jenna was the one to pull away from your embrace, fixing her now soaked underwear and pulling down her dress.

a content smirk filled your face as you collected yourself.

“you—”

“jen? jenna?” any cocky remark you had to say was put on hold by what seemed to be jasmin’s voice, a co—star of jenna’s and good friend of the both of you.

as the woman came through the door, she paused, eyeing the distraught state between the both of you.

“ari is about to do the toast, hurry out.” was all she could manage before exiting the same way she had came.

this would definitely be the topic of discussion later. jenna thought as she moved over to the mirror to check her semi-messed up makeup.

“i’ll be on my way out. come over later when you’re done breaking the news to ari.”

━━━ 👩🏽‍💻

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longing-for-the-past-times · 7 months

Text

The four times you fell asleep on Ghost and the one time Ghost fell asleep on you - five.

simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

word count: 9k (as you will see, a lot of stuff happens)

synopsis: When the mission goes south and you end up in the hands of the enemy, Ghost finds himself alone and angry, reflecting on what your presence actually means to him.

warnings: violence, graphic descriptions of torture, occasional swearing, mentions of smoking, hurt/comfort, slight happy-ending, Ghost being angry and tortured by his inner demons, military inaccuracies

notes: So this is it - the finale of a series that was initially meant to be a one shot consisting of several random fluff-filled scenes. I am actually quite satisfied with how the story turned out, although I have to warn you that this chapter is longer than usual because it consists of several pure narrative parts (background descriptions and such).

If you need therapy after reading this, just dm me the bills and I'll work something out :)

reader's callsign is Bambi (she/her)

find it on ao3 part one part two part three part four part five

masterlist

five.

To say Ghost was angry would have been an understatement. He was fuming, his heavy breathing being the only sound that filled the now-silent room. Even after half an hour had passed, the burning feeling in his chest did not fade away, serving instead as a reminder of his helplessness. He was angry at Laswell for pairing you up with the younger sniper team. He was furious with Price for his decision to not go after you the moment your radio stopped working...

But in the end, he was livid with himself for not being there to protect you in the first place.

He couldn’t shake the guilt that ate him from inside like a parasite, and as the seconds turned into minutes which would be bound to turn into hours, he felt the weight of his inaction suffocating him like he was the one under torture. Clenching his jaw, he began to stomp around the living room of the safe house. The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife and, as he felt the concerned looks of the others on him, Ghost couldn’t help but replay the events of the past 36 hours in his mind.

He felt he had failed you when it mattered most, but he was determined to set things straight and bring you back unharmed.

Or at least alive and breathing.

--- 28 hours earlier

The sky was painted in golden hues by the time you left the briefing room, the morning air being a cold, yet comforting sensation that welcomed you when you got out of the main base building. Your mind was reeling with a plethora of classified intelligence and even more questions, but at least your adrenaline levels were high enough to chase any remnants of sleep away.

It had been almost a day since you left your apartment, but you weren't in a rush to go back. You would have to pack for the next mission anyway, and the given approximation of "an undefined amount of time" was an additional reason to delay the task. Instead, you went to the only place where you knew you'd find Ghost at this hour: the unofficial smoking spot of the base, named after the lack of security cameras in the area.

And there he was, perched on a plastic chair that made him look comically big and threatened to barely hold his weight. His mask was raised to his nose, highlighting a prominent jawline, peppered with faint scars and a hint of blonde stubble. Involuntarily, your eyes focused on his plump lips and the way they were wrapped around the cigarette, its burning tip glowing orange with each drag he took. His eyes were focused on a random point on the ground, but you knew he had heard you coming- his body had unconsciously shifted towards you, his legs adopting an open stance, almost as if to greet you.

"Thought you said you'd quit", you teased him in a soft tone, dragging a chair and sitting next to him. You opened your mouth to add something but were taken aback when you saw his lips curl up in a gentle smile, accompanied by a weak laugh.

There was no humour in it, but that did not stop you from relishing in the rare sight of Ghost's grin, your eyes once again focusing on the faint scar that rested on his lower lip. You didn't know the story behind it, nobody but Price did, yet that didn't stop you, Soap and Gaz to come up with scenarios of your own, one less likely than another.

"You're staring!", he remarked in a gravelly tone, blowing out a huff of smoke.

You knew it was wrong, but you secretly enjoyed second-hand smoking when he was around. He was too stubborn to let you try one of his cigarettes, always arguing about the negative impact on your health, but it was not like he could forbid you from keeping him company. The traces of smoke in his scent were an integral part of him and sometimes you just couldn't get enough of it, your lungs always begging for more.

"I'm not!", you eventually countered, taking a deep breath in. "And you did not answer the question!"

"It wasn't a question!", he argued back with a serious expression, his lips now forming a straight line.

"You know what I mean!"

You also knew that the banter you two had going on was meant to keep him away from the edge that would send Simon away and bring back Ghost. You'd already seen glimpses of him back in the briefing room when Laswell brought you up to date on the details of the mission. Just as you were witnessing Simon now, smoking half a pack of cigarettes in a desperate attempt to keep the deadly persona of the 141 Lieutenant away for as long as possible.

"Can I try one?", you went on with the distraction, already knowing his answer.

"No." - his answer was definitive, his clipped tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Huffing in annoyance, you crossed your arms over your chest and furrowed your brow, slightly scrunching your nose. He did not seem to be fazed by your childish outburst and instead, inhaled deeply, cheeks hollowing as he drew in the smoke. The exhale came shortly after, grey tendrils of smoke escaping his parted lips before he decided to speak again:

"Wanna hear something funny?"

You were already aware of Ghost's penchant for what he called "dad jokes", but what actually were just really bad puns, although, with him, they often had the tendency to turn out darker than expected. That was why you had to carefully pick your answer because you did not want to have Ghost on the bad side before going into mission - either because you refused to listen to a pun, or because of your reaction to it.

"I'm really not sure…", you shook your head, struggling to avoid eye contact.

As expected, he went on regardless of your answer.

"What do you call cigarettes you find in a thrift shop?"

A faint smirk was profiling on his lips again as he was clearly waiting for your reaction before delivering the pun.

"Go on, tell me", you eventually nudged him, rolling your eyes in fake pretence.

"Second hand smokes."

You struggled to suppress the smile that was threatening to spread on your face, but eventually, you ended up looking to the ground and shaking your head in defeat. Another low chuckle was heard from Simon, yet when you looked back at him, the cigarette butt was already in the ashtray and his balaclava was back on. You let out a deep sigh, your lips forming a pout, but you accepted his extended hand, allowing him to lift you from the chair.

"Come on, I'll drive you home. Price said the plane leaves at 1300 hours which leaves us with… exactly 6 hours and 45 minutes to get our things in order."

"Can't wait for it!", you let out an ironic huff, a shiver going down your spine upon hearing a hushed laugh in reply.

You and Ghost were in a good place. You could only hope this would last.

---

"Sergeant L/N, these are Privates Reynolds and Jones! They will be accompanying you on this mission as a sniper, respectively a spotter!"

From the instant you set eyes on him, you knew Captain Price had chosen the tarmac to make the introduction with a firm reason in mind. Perhaps it was the thunderous roar of the engines or the massive air currents caused by the propellers of the military aircraft you were about to board, but you could tell the atmosphere was intimidating enough for the two young men that they could only hold your gaze for so long before nodding their heads in acknowledgement.

"This is Sergeant L/N and she is going to be your mentor and leader for the duration of this mission", Price went on, his tone mercilessly cold.

The previous night he'd been a friendly face, "the dad of the group", as you drunkenly mentioned him in the toast, but that day he was the Captain of one of the most lethal Task forces there had been. And with that position came no room for mistakes or second thoughts.

"You will listen to her, no matter the situation. She tells you to shoot, you shoot. She tells you to hide, you hide. Hell, she tells you to come out and surrender, you do just that if you want to come home in one piece and not in a body bag!"

And he had a tendency to be slightly dramatic sometimes. Yet it was well-intended: you could only remember the "pep-talk" he'd given you before your first mission, after having placed you in the care of one of the most deadly operators you've ever seen, also known to others as "the big boy with a skull face"; that mission had gone sideways minutes after it had begun and you ended up saving yourself and the Lieutenant twice just by being high on energizers and adrenaline.

You and Ghost did not talk about that.

"Good to meet you, boys!", you shook their hands with a firm grip before nodding them into the direction of the aircraft. "You should go and buckle up. I'll be joining you soon!"

"Yes ma'am!", they answered in unison, shooting each other a cryptic look before heading in the direction of the plane.

You and Price caught that, but before being able to talk about it, you were interrupted by the big boy with the skull face himself:

"Those are the boys Y/N's supposed to be babysitting?"

Ghost was not one to mince words, even on a good day. Perhaps, at one point in the past, he had simply decided that hiding behind a wall of well-chosen words was not worth it, or he simply preferred to make himself understood from the beginning. And when opposing something, as he was at that moment, he did not bother to hide it:

"You're lucky they're not in your care!", you decided to steer the conversation in another direction. "I don't know where Laswell found them, but I bet at least one's dad has stars on his shoulders!"

Neither you, nor Ghost liked Price's lingering silence, but you didn't show it. You trusted Kate well enough to know she would have ensured they posed no real threat to your safety and the mission's success before having them join you on the field.

What actually bothered you was that it all happened on such short notice. You barely had time to bounce back from the previous assignment before having to start a new, high-risk, high-stakes one. You were aware of your limits and confident enough that you could pull this one off - but having to look after another two people you met a couple of hours before going into the field? Sure, you knew your limits, but did they know theirs?

"Stop it! Get it out of your mind, now!"

Ghost's deep Manchester accent pulled you out of your head and back into the present moment. You shot him what was meant to be a reassuring look, unaware that you actually looked like a deer caught in the headlights. It took you a moment to realise Price had left, leaving you two alone on the tarmac.

"They do anything you don't like, they act fishy - you report directly to me!"

He took a step forward, the tac vests you'd fastened on your bodies almost making contact. You pursed your lips in an attempt to hide the tremor that coursed through you and raised your eyes to take a better look at the skull plate, firmly attached to his black balaclava by messy stitches.

Just like Price, he was quick to bounce back into being the Lieutenant of Task Force 141. You were used to seeing him in full combat gear considering the big count of missions you went together into, but you couldn't help but furrow your brow at the sight of an additional Ka-Bar knife strapped in a detachable holster on his belt. And at the two fragmentation grenades attached to the same belt. But after all, he and Soap would drop out of the plane before you hit the landing zone - he would need all the additional equipment and ammunition he could get.

"Are you ready to go into the hornet's nest?", you tried to tease him in an attempt to mask the audible gulp you had to take as the adrenaline started to kick in.

"You'll have reduced it to half before I even take out my knife!", he hummed as an answer, a soft warmth glowing in his chocolate eyes.

You opened your mouth to talk back, but you were interrupted by the loud beeping that signalled you to board the aircraft. You knew you had to go, you had a tight schedule to follow after all, but neither of you seemed to want to be the first to leave.

"I'll meet you at the safehouse?"

This time you couldn't look him in the eye, pining your gaze to the ground as your voice trembled, a soft vibration that got lost in the brutal cacophony of sounds. A surprised sound left your lips when his tac vest came back into your sight, two gloved fingers resting on your chin and lifting it until your eyes made contact with his.

"I'll be there."

You maintained eye contact as his hand fumbled for something on his vest. His glance was soft and tender, just as reassuring as his words and the gloved fingers that still lingered above your helmet strap.

"And I'll want that back."

You shot him a quizzical look before feeling an unfamiliar weight in the pocket of your tac vest. Your eyes shot down to the place, catching a glimpse of his skeleton glove before setting on the crumpled, half-smoked pack of cigarettes, and a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

"That's an order, Sergeant!", he barked out before heading towards the aircraft. You couldn't help but roll your eyes and follow him, left hand resting over the smokes.

"Roger that, sir!"

--- 2 hours earlier

"Watcher 1 to Bravo 4-7, how copy?"

Laswell's voice could be heard through the radio, partially interrupting your watch. With mechanic moves, you pressed the communication button and brought the microphone closer to your chapped lips:

"Watcher 1, this is Bravo 4-7, solid copy! Go on for traffic."

"Interrogative, have you got eyes on the target?"

Shifting a bit under the dessert camouflage net, you peered down the scope of the rifle to check the gates of the compound. Two men with hunting dogs seemed to be on foot patrol, automatic guns swaying at their hips.

"Affirmative. Do you want me to take them down?"

It had been more than 20 hours since you got into position, yet all you were ordered to do was to keep watch and stand for future orders. Since it was not the first mission of this kind, you had expected that yet you could see the Privates getting jumpy and distracted, the two of them idly chatting between their own shared camo net.

"Negative, we expect the smugglers to arrive shortly after they switch patrols- we plan to infiltrate so hold your fire!"

"Copy, Watcher 1! Bravo 4-7 out!"

Taking one last look at the current patrol, you switched the communications on the channel you used to communicate with the two Privates. During your first mission, Ghost wasn't exactly the most talkative partner and not being able to entirely understand his intentions almost got you killed. After you got to know him better, you knew that he had been testing you and that he was always ready to step in if things went more south than expected, but nonetheless, you decided to do things differently with the two soon-to-be operators:

"Bravo 4-7-1, this is Bravo 4-7, how copy?"

You turned your eyes to the left, a frown on your face as you saw the camo net slightly shift as the radio began to crackle.

"Bravo 4-7, this is Bravo 4-7-1. Uhm… solid copy?"

"This is Bravo 0-7. Why the hell are you talking to your supervisor on the main channel?"

You couldn't help but giggle at Ghost's rough voice and you rolled your eyes at his antics. He was surely having the time of his life after having found a way to pick on the two men.

"Sorry sir… uhm, we were answering to Bravo 4-7-1 and…"

"Bravo 4-7-1, this is Bravo 4-7, switch to channel 4 and we'll continue our private chat there."

The quiet air was filled with even more crackling static and occasional mutters coming from who was probably Reynolds. Still keeping your eyes locked on the gates of the complex, you let out a sigh as you pressed the communication button again before Ghost could intervene:

"Bravo 4-7-1, use the red dial that is next to the communication button. All Bravos, sorry for the disturbance - though we could all use a small break!"

"You've got it, Bambi! How are you holding up there?"

You smiled hearing Kyle's reassuring tone, briefly accompanied by what must have been Price's laugh. Ghost and Soap would infiltrate the building from one side, while the Captain and Gaz would break in from the other- and you would keep watch and annihilate any unexpected threat, coming from the outside.

"It's all good, Gaz, all good. Just sitting my ass here and waiting for the moment I get to save yours!"

"Have you seen this ass though? Definitely worth killing for!"

Naturally, Soap couldn't help but intervene, his cocky reply being laced with a hint of playful arrogance. You opened your mouth to give him a well-chosen answer, but Ghost beat you to it. He was in full-combat mode, his stern voice being more than enough to make you bounce back into the harsh reality of the mission.

"Keep talking, MacTavish, and there'll be no rear-end left of you by the time the job is done! Party's over, get your asses back into the game!"

"Roger!"

But you still laughed after you made sure your radio was off, shaking your head in disbelief. Even when pent up on combat stress and adrenaline, you knew Ghost's pun was intentional. Involuntarily, your hand brushed over the crumpled pack of smokes, fishing it out of the pocket and bringing it closer to your face. Closing your eyes, you inhaled slowly, a deep sigh leaving your mouth. Even after a bumpy plane ride and 20 hours spent on a stakeout, Simon's scent was lingering, a silent sign of his presence.

"Bravo 4-7, this is Bravo 4-7-1, how copy?", Private John's voice could be heard through the radio, a tense silence settling in after his words. You had an inkling that they still had second thoughts on whether they were on the right channel or not.

"Solid copy, Private." You eventually decided to end their inner torment and reply, a grin forming at the corner of your lips when you heard a collective sigh from the two.

"Ma'am, we're sorry about before…"

"Mistakes happen- let that be your biggest and last one", you were prompt to cut them short, remembering how Ghost had tried to instil discipline through clipped, yet complete orders. "Now, Reynolds, tell me what you two are looking at!"

"Yes, ma'am! We're looking at two solid iron gates which are openly guarded by two mobile patrols, each one consisting of an armed man and a hunting dog. They haven't rotated in the past 5 hours, I think, so they are probably expecting to be changed soon-"

"Which also means that they might have got bored and should not be as attentive to their surroundings as-"

"Wrong, Private Johns, you are dead. Lesson number one on the battlefield, never underestimate your enemy!", you barked through the headset in a manner that would make Ghost proud. "You always need to uphold the enemy to the highest standard, not rely on their mistakes to succeed. Mistakes are occasional, but underestimating them is what will get you killed!"

The prolonged silence on their part was not a good sign and, for a moment, you wondered whether you'd been too harsh on them. But they must have known what they were signing up for temporarily joining the Task Force, so you sighed in defeat and pressed the communication button once more:

"I want you to move to the next ridge and keep watch from there. I expect detailed reports every 15 minutes from now on. Any questions?"

"No ma'am. Bravo 4-7-1 out."

"Bravo 4-7 out."

---

You started to realise something was wrong when another hour passed and the patrols were not switched, but instead doubled, with no signs of smugglers in sight. So far the main channel had been quiet and you divided your attention between the Privates' reports and being on the lookout for any signs that you've been compromised.

Your left hand was unconsciously fiddling with the cigarette pack, while your right one was adjusting the scope to focus on the road leading to the complex. Your breath hitched upon seeing a Humvee heading towards the gates and you fumbled for the communication button of the radio, bringing the mic closer to your mouth.

The sudden explosion of static coming from the radio had you almost ripping off the headset from your ears, a cold shiver running down your spine the moment you realised it.

Your radio was not working.

"All Bravos, this is Bravo 4-7, how copy?"

You could feel your heartbeat increasing at an alarming rate when no answer came and you turned to look at the place where Privates Reynolds and Johns should have been, keeping watch on the complex. Your heart dropped further in your chest when you realised the ridge was empty and there had been more than 15 minutes since their last report- still that didn't justify why they'd left their position without telling you. Were Price's orders not clear enough? Sure, your radio may have broken somehow, but they should have come and checked in with you in person as they must have been trained.

You let out a string of curses under your breath, the realisation of the imminent danger you were currently in hitting you like a bullet train. You must have been compromised, the same way the scouts Laswell mentioned had been - and your radio was not working because someone must have been using a signal jammer in the area. And judging by the absence of the two Privates, the order to retreat had already been given.

You needed to get out of there.

With rapid, but calculated movements, you disassembled the sniper and began to pack it into a camo warbag. You were slowly rolling up the camouflage net when multiple gunshots were fired on the road you had been watching. Your eyes widened in disbelief when you saw what must have been the convoy supposed to transport the weapons Laswell talked about, coming under heavy fire. There had been someone else who had known about the transport, and who must have done everything they could to get their hands on it.

And taking into consideration what they had done to the Special Forces scouts, you could easily rule out the saying that stated that the enemy of your enemy was your friend. So when you heard men hollering in what seemed to be Russian in your vicinity, you ripped out your dog tags and all the badges that identified you as a British Special Forces operator and buried them into a shallow mound, carefully placing one of Ghost's cigarettes on top of it. As the shouts grew closed, you took in a deep breath and your left hand gripped around the hilt of the extra Ka-Bar knife you kept in your boot.

With a small sigh of resignation, you accepted the fact that you couldn't outrun them without the high risk of getting killed. While the ridge you were stationed on was a good point of observation, it provided no proper cover outside of the camouflage net you've already packed and it only left you with the choice you've been trained to make and despised the most.

Surrender yourself and hope somebody will come to save you.

-- present time

"Why didn't she listen to the orders to retrea-.."

One of the Privates whose nametag read Johns tried to speak up, but his words faltered as the deadly gazes of the remaining Task Force 141 operators were set on him. And at that moment they resembled a pack of hound dogs, eager to be released on a hunt.

"Listen here, boy", Soap began in an unusually calm tone, although his tensed-up form spoke otherwise. "You and your friend here- you better pack up and make sure you board Laswell's ride, as soon as she touches ground here." His words were cold and calculated, his voice getting harsher as he went on. "See, right now we are all focused on getting back our comrade- to put it plainly, we do not have the time to deal with you leaving her behind deep in enemy territory."

He paused for better effect.

"But Lord save you once we find her because nothing will hold us back and we. Will. Be. Coming. For. You."

"That's enough, MacTavish!", Laswell curtly said as she entered the safe house. She was dressed plainly, if not for the bulletproof vest she'd donned and the usual stack of manilla folders she was usually carrying around had been replaced by a laptop she placed in front of Price and opened. "I take full responsibility for what happened to Miss L/N. As for now, she is declared as MIA."

"What do you mean, happened? I don't care what you're going to say, but I am sure as hell going to get her out of wherever she is!", Ghost couldn't contain his growl, his fingers turning white from his hard grip on the chair.

If any of his teammates noticed the sudden shift in his demeanour when Laswell declared you as missing in action, they had the common sense to keep their thoughts to themselves. All of them were stressed, angry and tired, but there was one more feeling that was bubbling in Ghost's chest, something that he hadn't felt in a long time, not since he'd been buried alive in a dead man's casket.

Simon Riley was scared. He was scared he wouldn't be able to get you in time, that he would fail to protect you when you needed it the most. He couldn't control the frantic way his heart hammered in his chest when his brain fabricated scenarios in which you were alone, cold and petrified, and it took him a great deal of what was left of his self-control not to throw caution out the window and run to find you.

Ghost was scared for you, but what terrified him the most was the thought of having to live in a world without you.

On the outside, he seemed still as a statue, his trained blank look not betraying the internal conflict that was raging inside. He saw Laswell's lips move and the laptop screen that was placed in front of him, but the lights were too bright and the colours, too saturated. He was supposed to watch a video, a drone footage, as his military-trained mind registered, but the voices in his head became too loud to ignore and the temperature in the room was too high for his liking. His breaths quickened and he felt the mask sticking to his face, suffocating him, as if he was in the coffin again, in the dark, and alone with a rotting corpse. Only it was not the body of the person who'd betrayed him, but your sleeping silhouette, gently resting your head on his chest and sighing every once in a while.

The footage from the drone zoomed in on a familiar figure who was encircled by armed men from all directions. The scene of you being taken as a hostage played in front of Ghost's eyes, but his mind did not register it as his sole focus was on your slumbering figure, the warmth of your body against his playing a big role in persuading Simon that you were actually there, with him, safe and sound.

Yet you weren't, and when he tried to brush a strand of hair away from your face he was met with the rough and cold surface of a skull plate, his fingers instantly jerking away in repulsion. A wave of nausea had him shot up from his chair and stumble to the bathroom, shaky hands fumbling with the thick mask before he could empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

When he opened his eyes again, he felt as if he'd been dunked in a barrel of cold water. His mind was no longer muddled with what-ifs and second-guesses, but had a clear purpose in sight: one that would keep him going until the end of the earth just to see it done. His hands no longer trembled as he pulled the black balaclava on his face and headed back to the main room, paying no mind to Soap's concerned gaze.

His eyes were cold and determined as he laid his hands on the first assault rifle within reach, methodically assembling it and stuffing as many ammunition magazines as he could into the pockets of his tactical vest. His hands itched for a cigarette, but the urge only strengthened his resolve: he would find you, even if it meant it was the last thing he did.

---

You didn't even have the energy to flinch when the fist collided with your face, sending your head rolling backwards. The world was reduced to a blurry mess, blue stars dancing before your eyes. Out of instinct, you lolled your head to the side and spit on the ground, in an attempt to diminish the metallic tang of blood in your mouth. You could still feel the unpleasant stinging that overwhelmed the left half of your face where you'd been hit with the back of a gun but tried to ignore the blood that was trickling across your cheek, all too aware of the jagged line that started near the temple and stopped short of the jawline. The bastards knew how to do their job and they weren't ones to shy away from using you as a means to an end- the future facial scar they'd given you serving as solid proof for that.

"He asked you a question, filth!"

An angry conversation was taking place right in front of you, but you were too busy trying to alleviate the pain, to focus on your captors. Sometimes, familiar words would reach your ears: american, military, information; but it was clear that they were struggling to find a way to make you talk. The questions were always the same ones, similar to what you've been prepared for in interrogation training- who were you, who were you working for, what are the Americans planning? Why has everything had always something to do with the Americans?

And just as you'd been taught in interrogation training, your answers were short and clipped- revealing little to no information at that time. You were still in the phase where they saw you as an asset, a potential source of information, taking into consideration the fact that they didn't kill you on the spot, and it was up to you to dictate the rhythm of their game. Speak too fast and too soon, they will get everything they need and kill you. Say nothing for too much time, they will see you as a dead-end and kill you.

You were currently walking the tightrope, trying to keep the balance between the increasing pain you found yourself in and the amount and importance of the information you were giving them. All you had to do was to make sure you stayed alive long enough for your teammates to find you. You knew they would take care of the rest.

"We shall try a different question then, kotyonok…" You shot your captor a cold look full of spite, not sure what disgusted you more: the mocking nickname he gave you or the pressure his fingers applied on your face, so different from the calloused, yet gentle touch of Ghost. "You wouldn't tell us your name- at least give us your codename and we might get Boris here to clean up your cheek. I know you wouldn't like that cut to scar…"

Your hands were numb from the tight grip they used to tie you to the metal chair, but you could still feel them shake when a knife, your Ka-Bar knife, was pressed against your cheek. You bit your lip so hard it drew blood in an attempt to stifle the tears that were pooling in your eyes, and you couldn't help but whimper when the blade was lightly traced against your skin before being sheathed, a heartless laugh following the gesture soon after.

You closed your head and let your head hang low, the rhythmic drip of your blood being the only sound that filled the room for a while. You could only hope you would make it through the next hours and your teammates wouldn't have to be greeted by your still-warm body.

---

Ghost was quick to follow the sound of Gaz's voice, his steps leading him to what proved to be quite a strategic place to observe the complex. A brief look at his compass confirmed the coordinates registered along with the drone footage, and even if more than 4 hours had passed since you'd been captured, his eyes were frantically searching for any signs that might lead him to you.

"I found something! She must have been camped here, there are still traces in the ground from where she pinned the camo net!"

"There was something in the footage…", Gaz started to mutter to himself, starting to hit heaps of dirt at random. "She was crouched over the earth like.. she was trying to bury something, I think?"

Not bothering to reply, Ghost's eyes began to systematically scan the area. At first glance, it all seemed the same, the desert soil not providing much diversity in terms of landscape. But you had to leave a mark behind, something subtle, yet noticeable at the same time, something that you could find only if you knew what you were looking for…

"That's bloody good work, Gaz!"

Kyle stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening at the sudden praise coming from his usually cold-demeanoured Lieutenant. For a couple of seconds, he was too distracted to notice that Ghost had kneeled on the ground, his gloved hands digging through a heap of dirt, a white cigarette carefully placed away from the mound. By the time Price and Soap joined them, he managed to unearth your dog tags and Special Forces badges and put them on display:

"She knew she would be taken in… and that revealing her identity at a later point would buy her time…"

"That's basic interrogation training, Sergeant!", Ghost barked at Soap in an unusually aggressive way that made the Scot frown in his direction.

He opened his mouth to talk back, yet no words came out when he noticed your dog tags wrapped around Ghost's hand and the obsessive way he seemed to fiddle with them. Subtly sharing a knowing look with Price, who just raised his eyebrows in a silent suggestion to let it slide, Soap turned around and started scanning the perimeter for any sign that might point to your current whereabouts. Your sudden disappearance had a big impact on all of them, yet it seemed that it affected Ghost the most, his recent mood swings being strong proof of it.

"Bloody bastards… they smoked my cigarettes…"

Simon stomped the cigarette butts under his boot, turning his head to Price, but the Captain was already meters away, fishing another cigarette butt from the ground. Nodding his head in Ghost's direction, he brought the radio closer to his mouth and pressed the communication button:

"Kate, I think we have a lead. Well, at least a path of …smoked stubs?"

Yet before Price could give the order to spread out and start looking for more tracks, Simon already went ahead of others, pulling the automatic gun from his shoulder. Under all the layers comprising of the tactical vest and the rest of the military-issued gear, his heart was thundering in his chest. Second thoughts were already forming inside his tired mind: they really got you, they stole your cigarettes, the pack he gave you for safekeeping and that was supposed to be your lucky charm- somehow, he had thought that having a physical piece of him would keep you out of harm's way.

He could only hope he found you in time before the damage you'd sustained would become irreversible.

---

"I don't think you understand how this is working, milaya…"

He was so close to you, that you could feel his rancid breath on your face, a faint familiar smell lodging in your nostrils. Your head was throbbing, and you decided you were hallucinating- Russians didn't smoke the British cigarette brand Ghost did. Your mind must have been playing tricks on you, subconsciously wishing for the masked Lieutenant to find you faster.

"So far we had a monologue…- but I still think you have potential."

Out of reflex, you flinched when someone gripped your shoulders, but the pain your mind was preparing for did not come. Instead, you were untied from the chair and violently shoved forward. Your hands were still tied behind your back and you ended up falling face first on the hard concrete, letting out a pathetic moan that raised a few laughs from your captors.

As you lay there, disoriented and struggling to regain composure, you felt a pair of arms hooking your shoulders, pulling you upright and dragging you out of the room. You were too exhausted to put up a fight, the pain dangerously dulling your senses, but that didn't stop you from thrashing around in your captor's grip and throwing curses at him. To your dismay, he didn't seem fazed by it, his grip never faltering as he hauled you through a deserted corridor, seemingly underground, judging by the lack of natural light. You maintained your aggressive facade, yet your eyes were carefully studying your surroundings, taking in every little detail that might prove crucial, should you be able to escape.

Before you realised it, you were thrown into a dark room, yet this time you were able to cushion the fall and land on your knees. Wincing at the brutal impact, you squinted in an attempt to make out your surroundings and any potential escape routes.

"See, little one, everyone has a breaking point.."

The harsh voice of your captor broke through the silence, followed, as if on cue, by the lights being turned on. The sudden brightness had you close your eyes in discomfort, your wrists starting to turn red and raw from your relentless efforts to free yourself from the tight ropes. You could feel blood trickling through the small abrasions where the rope had cut into your skin.

"It seems plain violence is not yours. Not even cresting your pretty little face… I will tell you a secret, you might not live long to keep it anyway, but that is the breaking point of many- ladies and men both."

As he went on with what you decided was a well-rehearsed discourse, he started walking in circles around the room, almost like a predator circling its prey. The intimidation technique was not foreign to you, yet you did your best to morph your face into a scared and hesitant expression, giving him what he wanted to see: a person who was on the verge of breaking, someone who should be kept alive for a little more.

"So I thought to myself- the doll does not work alone. Maybe we should bring one of her friends here and see who gives in first."

If you weren't busy maintaining the terrified mask, you might have laughed at his weak attempt to extract information about your teammates. He was trying so hard to be menacing, yet he didn't know that you had been trained by the Ghost himself, who had drilled all possible interrogation scenarios into your mind. You made a mental note to thank him if you ever got out of there.

"But then I remembered we had a special room we haven't been able to test yet."

His voice grew closer and closer. Keeping your eyes glued to the ground, you focused on the blood that was dripping from your face, staining the concrete floor crimson. When he exhaled in your direction, you could clearly feel the smoke of Ghost's cigarettes wafting towards you, your hands clenching in fists at the audacity he possessed. You opened your mouth for the first time, if only to give him a piece of your mind, yet you barely had time to register him roughly grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and violently dragging you to the middle of the room.

"And if this doesn't break you… do not worry, we will find something else!"

You could barely make sense of his words, his unveiled threat, before your head was forcefully shoved into what you made out to be a basin. Piercing-cold water enveloped you from all sides, and panic surged through every fiber of your being when you realised that there was a firm grip on the back of your head, preventing you from pulling out. Your throat burned with each passing second, and your vision gradually darkened as you struggled to stay conscious, your body going limp on the edge of the bathtub.

"After all, we have all the time in the world. No one will find us here… not when we are right under their noses."

---

It took them one hour under the scorching sun, but the members of Task Force 141 had managed to discover the Russians' hideout. Following the cigarette butts eventually led them to a camouflage net, one which Ghost almost ripped away when he recognized it as yours, and they ended up staring at the entrance of what was supposed to be an underground bunker. The few guards that were lingering around didn't know what hit them, a blood-splattered skull plate being the last thing they'd seen before collapsing to the ground.

As he carefully threaded through the dimly lit corridor, Ghost's demons had never been so loud. On the one hand, his feet were urging him to bolt, to sprint through every room and hallway and find you as quickly as he could, but on the other hand, he was still part of a team with whom he shared a common purpose. Ditching them would be highly dangerous and irresponsible and it would help no one in the end.

Yet all common sense jumped out of the window when the silence was shattered by a high-pitched scream followed by a loud string of curses, both in English and Russian. Simon barely waited for Price's curt order to go before he bolted in the direction of the commotion, swiftly incapacitating any man who was foolish enough to get in this way.

At that moment, he didn't even need the mask to become one with the Ghost- the primal need to protect you overtook his senses, the chaotic surroundings fading into the background as the singular purpose took hold of him. When the automatic gun ran out of ammunition he simply threw it away and lunged for the rifle strapped on his back. When he ran out of throwing knives, he openly jumped on anyone who got in his way. He did not hold back, being quick to send his opponents staggering backwards and crashing into walls or doors. His objective was clear - to create a diversion, a way to distract attention from you and put an end to the torment you must have been going through.

He didn't even bother to check if the door was unlocked before kicking it to the ground, unaware of the splinters that lodged themselves into his gear. When he registered the lower half of your limp body, beaten and bruised, he saw red. Dropping his rifle to the ground, he let out a feral growl as he launched himself at the man standing in the middle of the room, who was staring at him wide-eyed, fumbling with the safety of the gun he was holding. Blow after blow rained upon him, each strike being filled with a mix of madness and rage that Ghost had struggled to contain within himself throughout the day. The Russian, unable to defend himself from Ghost's fury, was crouched in a fetal position, whimpering and sobbing, just like you did hours ago, yet Simon's assault did not seem to falter. He was determined to make him feel at least a fraction of what you've been put through.

Until he realised that there was no other movement in the room, that you hadn't crept up to him and assured him you were fine like he secretly hoped you would. He was almost scared to look in the direction of your still-limp body, his blood running cold at the sight of you leaning against the edge of a water basin, your head still submerged in the water.

Simon had often fantasized about what kissing you for the first time would be like. It was a small comfort he liked to indulge in whenever he would try to go to bed and sleep wouldn't find him. Where would you be, how would your lips feel when pressed against his? Would it be gentle, or wild and passionate? What would you say to him afterwards? Would you regret or do it again in the following moments?

He definitely did not expect your first intimate contact to be on the cold, hard floor of the torture room, with your lifeless body hanging limp in his arms. He ripped his gloves away from his hands, searching for your pulse with trembling fingers and the relief he felt upon feeling an irregular, yet faint heartbeat, had him peel the mask from his face and discard it on the floor. Without wasting a second, he tilted your head back gently and sealed his chapped lips against yours, trying his best to breathe life into your still body. Your skin was cold against his fingers and he could almost feel his heart stop beating when he realised your condition was not improving.

Ghost was not a religious man, yet he started to recite the only prayer his mother ever taught him when he pressed his hands against your chest and started the compressions. Hot tears started rolling down his cheeks as he counted the compressions, lips trembling as he kept chanting your name again and again, urging you to open your eyes and wake up.

A choked sob left his mouth when you gasped and started coughing, your body twitching against your will. He was quick to roll you onto your side, gently patting your back in an attempt to help you expel the water lodged in your throat. His vision was still clouded from the tears, but that did not stop him from cradling your shaking figure in his arms, resting his head atop yours. He could feel your erratic breathing and your heartwrenching sobs, but all he could do was hug you tighter and try to reassure you, even though his voice was breaking:

'It's alright. They won't be hurting you again… I'll keep you safe!"

You didn't know how long you stayed in that position, but you were convinced you had been so deprived of oxygen that you started hallucinating. Somehow, you were absolutely convinced it was Ghost who was holding you tight in his arms, your cheek being squished against a tactical vest that could only be his, judging by its specific scent. Yet the sight of a head of dirty blonde hair made you scrunch your forehead in confusion. Why was he not wearing his mask? Your eyesight was still too blurred to make out the features of the person who was holding you, but you could trace the contours of his face in your sleep, even though you could count on your fingers the number of times you had seen them before.

Breathing heavily, you lifted a shaky hand towards his face, scared that if you moved too suddenly, the spell would break and you would be once again pulled out of the basin and asked the generic set of questions you've been asked for the past half an hour. But when your fingers made contact with Simon's cheek, softly threading through his stubble and tracing the deep scar that almost split his lip in two, you let out a breath of relief, a warm wave of comfort washing over you. Your tired mind took note of the foreign voices that were mixed with Simon's reassuring whispers: there was someone repeatedly asking whether you were okay, someone talking over the radio and someone asking for med-evac. Yet the sudden commotion only made you nuzzle your head against Ghost's chest, letting out a sigh of relief as you finally allowed your eyes to shut closed, the constant thought of finally being safe serving as a temporary balm to your wounds.

The base's hospital was no different in any of those regards, yet Simon had spent the last days inside its four walls, camped out on the armchair Price had arranged to be brought into your salon the moment you'd been transferred from the municipal hospital.

---

For someone who had spent a good part of his life in hospitals, Ghost hated them. He couldn't stand the pungent smell of chemicals or the hushed conversations that took place in the brightly lit corridors. The constant beeping of the monitoring devices would drive him insane and he detested the cheap food.

Ghost hated hospitals, but he hated being away from you even more.

So he had resorted to spending the last three days acting both as a makeshift nurse and a guard dog for any of the curious passers-by who would try and peek at the operator who had been captured by the enemy and survived torture. Soap, Gaz or Price would usually join him outside working hours, trying to make small talk or urging him to eat the take-out they bought him, but he would only leave your side for bathroom breaks and showers.

He spent the rest of the time next to your sleeping figure, lying still in the armchair and keeping his eyes glued to you. Every once in a while, he would zone out and find himself counting how many times your chest went up and down, totally unaware of the heart-rate monitor that was placed right next to him.

For the time being, Simon was grateful you'd been filled up with painkillers and still sleeping. He couldn't wait for you to wake up, but he wasn't mentally prepared for it: it wouldn't be like before when you fell asleep on him and woke up feeling slightly ashamed, but refreshed, a soft smile lighting up your face. This time, you would wake up to a body full of bruises and a new scar marking your face- and he had no idea what he could say to help you get through it.

Simon was not a man of words, so he decided to convey his feelings through actions and gestures. His moves were well-rehearsed as he emptied the glass of water he'd filled a couple of hours before and refilled it to the brim, placing it on a table next to your bed. His gloves had been long gone by the time he changed your blanket with a fresh and soft one that Soap had brought the last time he came in. After he ensured you were comfortably tucked in, Ghost busied himself with rearranging the flowers and the get-well-soon cards that had already been neatly arranged at the edge of your bed.

After there was nothing left for him to do, he eventually dragged the armchair close to your bedside, removing his mask with slow and weary movements. The dark circles that had formed under his eyes were a stark contrast against his pale complexion, and the stubble he'd neglected for the past few days threatened to turn into a full-grown beard. Yet that did not stop him from exposing his face in your presence, his tired mind arguing that perhaps the sight of him might pull you out of your head, at least temporarily.

A heavy sigh left his body as he laid his upper body on your bed, his head carefully resting on the top of your hand. Out of instinct, he nuzzled his cheek against the soft skin of your palm, relishing in the warmth of the contact, and draped one arm against your body, gently pulling you closer to him.

Minutes passed and his eyes gradually fluttered closed, his soft breaths slowly mingling with yours. He would never admit it out loud, but especially after the events of the last mission, the sole way he could fall asleep was in your proximity, only finding solace in the warm feeling of your touch. It may have taken him a while, but he eventually came to the realisation that it was in your arms that he felt safe, where the turmoil and chaos of the outside could temporarily be forgotten. And he was determined to keep it that way, no matter what it took.

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

more notes: do you guys would like a bonus part, say, an epilogue for this? I'm thinking of something like "the one where they finally get a bed" or something... let me know in the comments (or ask box if you'd like to remain anonymous)

taglist: @neoarchipelago, @thecorruptedlovely, @mitchlow, @fieldsofbats, @thaprilks, @stars-andfreckles, @that-napa-know-how, @preistinajamjar, @iamaliceinwonderland, @allaboutirem0, @lilpothoscuttings, @01trickster10, @yyiikes, @joanne-uwu, @dorck26, @wawuwe, @karagd13-blog, @rindulacre, @claibornc

#cod ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #call of duty imagine #ghost fluff #task force 141 #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #mw2 ghost

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iisasarcasticlittleshite · 1 year

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It's always happened whenever they think no one's looking, the brief moments of respite when their attendant has the time to drift off to their own thoughts.

The brothers thought they'd enjoy those moments, of silence and respite, they're so rare, and MC's always got their hands full with one thing or another.

So...why do they look so sad?

It's not hard to notice them drifting off into their own thoughts, with a pain in their eyes so all-consuming, it almost hurts to look at them.

When MC's gaze clouds over, their eyes turn glassy, ready to cry, the smile falls from their lips, replaced with this slackened, vacant expression, barely holding in whatever it is that pains them.

But then, someone will snap them out of it, and it's like nothing ever happened, they go back to the smiling attendant, working their butt off to keep the brothers out of trouble, taking paperwork off Lucifer and Diavolo's plates, all while helping them all become more than what they were.

They know how Lucifer likes his coffee, they know Belphie's favourite kind of pillow, they keep snacks on hand for Beel and never laugh or poke at him for being hungry, they share Leviathan's delight and keep up with all his fandoms, they shop with Asmodeus and remind him that his beauty isn't just on his body, they've become Mammon's best friend and always seem to know when to start controlling the chaos, and Satan... MC was perhaps the only one who understood, apart from Lucifer.

When Satan raged, they didn't hide, or laugh at him for feeling, the avatar of Wrath had no idea what to do with someone who simply understood.

With everything they did, all the running around and being reliable, it was scary to see them... quiet. They're so used to seeing MC laughing, grinning, like they could whip all three worlds into shape, if only that pit of sadness didn't swallow them up.

Still, the brothers will ask, want to help, but asking only seems to send a lance of hurt to MC's heart, as they smile so sweetly with watery eyes.

"I'm okay, you don't need to worry."

"It's nothing, just a sad scene in a movie I saw."

"Huh? I'm fine!"

Solomon's the only one who knows what happens when the front door of Cocytus hall slams shut, when silence encompasses the building and MC feels alone behind four walls.

That's when the tears fall, that's when the truth whispers past their lips.

"I miss them, so much."

#obey me nightbringer #nightbringer has me feeling the angst #not me crying #obey me

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fairlyang · 4 months

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Roommate 🕷️

you get caught masturbating by your hot cocky roommate, and he helps you out

w/c: 4.3K

pairing: roommate!miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. fantasizing about him, thinking you're alone, being watched, flashbacks, he scared the living daylights out of you, secondhand embarrassment (I live for some cringe), confessions, rough, some spanish dirty talk (no Google translate but yes English translations), creampie, and passing tf out

notes: number three of my og fics from june and I don’t hate this one as much

You were a college student living in an apartment in New York with a cocky roommate because the rent would be too much for you alone. Miguel O'Hara.

You stumbled across his ad looking for a roommate who didn't have any kids, and wasn't a piece of shit who paid bills late. So you messaged him and said you were responsible with bills and didn't have any children. He messaged back within the same hour and asked when you can move in.

It was a little over a year since then and time flew fast. You almost never got to see Miguel because of school and work. You were in your junior year of college and were finally in a good working position with decent pay.

You weren't sure what kind of job Miguel has but it has to be something really frustrating because he comes home mad as shit super often. Maybe he works in construction? Not sure but he definitely has the build for it.

Now with finals week you were stressed as fuck scrambling to finish some work and any extra credit assignments to end your junior year of college well. You already had your day to day schedule set, classes between 8am-12pm and work between 2-10 occasionally 11.

Miguel's schedule on the other hand was all over the place and you never knew when you'd be seeing him, when he'd be home, and he still pays his half of the bills but what was the point if he barely stays here anyway?

You minded your business and the very rare times you end up stumbling across him you keep conversations casual not wanting to overstep or make him uncomfortable. But you still end up talking back to him playfully and he doesn't mind so that's been a good sign.

Tonight there was no sign of him, and you've been very stressed and touch starved all week long. You shut your bedroom curtains and jump onto your bed. You get comfortable and take off your pj pants but keeping your tank top on. You first start lightly rubbing your nipples, then pinching one and the other. You moan and feel them both getting hard. You squeeze your tits, closing your eyes.

You play with them imagining it's Miguel's hands on you instead of yours. "S-shit."

Your right hand trails down to your panties, you slowly rub your clit in circle subconsciously clenching your thighs from how sensitive it feels. You open your eyes and giggle. It's really been a while.

Your thoughts go back to Miguel and you've found him attractive since you stumbled upon his ad but it intensified when you moved in and he was around way more.

You were hanging in the living room reading when you hear a door slam and it startled you a bit. Then you hear a door open so you assumed Miguel just went back to his room so you kept reading.

You were sitting with your legs out on the sofa and you were facing the kitchen instead of the tv. Past the kitchen is a hallway that leads to your room, the bathroom then Miguel's at the end. You heard his footsteps moving around until you saw him walking straight into the kitchen with only a towel on his waist.

His skin was glistening, still wet. You widen your eyes and shook your head looking down at your book. But who were you kidding.... You bite your lip, looking up to look at his muscular back as he was getting something from the fridge. You look at how his shoulders move as he grabs something and your breathing becomes uneasy.

You quickly look back down at your book as he closes the fridge. We had an open bar kinda of island so you could look into the kitchen and he could look into the living room, which was what he was doing...

You felt his eyes on you so you try your best to stay calm, control your breathing and boom you're fine. Until he turns back around to get a snack from the cupboard reaching for the whatever was on the top shelf- he was already very tall so you knew he was doing for your viewing pleasure making you flush.

You roll your eyes but might as well- his biceps were huge, his shoulder blades were insane and your eyes began to feel very lustful. He puts down whatever he got and all of a sudden has to yawn and crack his back flexing everything for you to see. You felt like you were in a trance and couldn't look away until you heard him chuckle.

He starts turning around and you look down as soon as you saw him move and bite your lip. Shit shit shit. "Y'know you could take a picture if you'd like muñeca, they last longer." He says with a smirk on his face. (doll)

"I think I'll pass thanks." You say looking him in his eyes as you're scrunching your nose in fake disgust while he just smirks at you and walks away.

Your fingers were rubbing a little faster now slightly feeling your wetness over your panties. Damn.

You stop and lean over to your bedside table and grab your dildo. Might as well.

You move your panties to the side then spit on your dildo and making sure it gets everywhere. You grab it with one hand and use the other to stroke it. God why isn't this Miguel.

You lay on your stomach and close your eyes. You kiss the tip and start to slowly take it in your mouth. You moan and go lower until you feel the tip at your uvula. You pull away and moan using all your spit to stroke it again.

You move it to your bottom half and line it up to your wet pussy. "O-oh shit-" your eyes widen realizing how tight you are. Has it really been that long???

You take it out and start sucking again until you get more saliva and try to fit it inside again. The tip is barely in and you whine. You slowly fuck the tip into you until your pussy gets use to it and then it feels fine so you put it in a bit deeper and now you're halfway on your 8 inch dildo.

You moan and clench your thighs. You roll your eyes back and blink them open looking at how you fuck yourself slowly. You spread your legs with one hand between them fucking your pussy slowly when you push in further and take all of it. You whimper and shake a little. You grab a body pillow and place it on top of you, your empty hand grabbing onto it hard. You close your eyes and start to think of it being Miguel's dick inside you, teasing you not wanting to pound into you yet.

You decided to do some yoga in the living room while watching a video on the tv. You were in a sports bra and tight fitting shorts accentuating your curves, thighs, and ass. You didn't even hear him come in when you were doing the downward dog then switched to the doggy position unknowing you were being watched.

You did a straddle split and leaning forward for a solid minute when you heard a low whistle startling you. Your heart jumped out of your chest as you sit up and look behind you. "Were you... watching me?" You ask your eyebrows furrowed, confused as shit.

"Thought I could take some notes..." He says with a confident manner and gives you a wink making you roll your eyes.

"Acting as if you could do that O'Hara, no seas baboso." You chuckle and smirk. (Don't be stupid)

He has a smug grin on his face and you think of something. You go get into the extended doggy position earning a gulp and a quiet "chingada madre" from Miguel. (Mother fucker)

You try not to make any noises besides your steady breathing. You hold it for a good fifteen seconds before saying, "Take a picture it'll last longer."

"I just might..." he says sounding like he's out of breath making you smirk.

You fuck yourself faster and harder feeling your pussy starting to cream against your dildo. Your grip on the pillow was harder and needy, as if you were grabbing against Miguel's back. "F-fuck- mmmm god j-just like that" you moan out clenching against your dildo making you shake.

You stop for a second to control your breathing. You go back to it but at a slower pace, lovingly, and passionately. You fight back the urge to moan his name but couldn't resist. "Así Miguel- n-no pares—" you moan and feel yourself squirming into the mattress. (Just like that Miguel- d-don't stop—")

You move your hand a little faster and trying to hit deeper but you're feeling tired already. You whine as you hear the creaminess with every trust. My cream would look so good on his thick cock. "Miguel te necesito- fuckk- I need you- oh I need you so ba- bad-" you moan out shaking. (I need you)

You feel that familiar feeling in your stomach and you start to fuck yourself deeper and faster whining and moaning so much more. "Fuck- so g-good."

Your juices make even more noise and you start sweating so you move your pillow to the side never opening your eyes, for more immersion. Your left hand rubs your clit while your right is still going in and out of you. You suddenly feel your orgasm take over and you fuck yourself as deep as you can take it letting out the most animalistic moans and needy whines ever. "a-a- fuck- a-ay M-Miguel-! fill me s-so good p-pl- please-"

You completely stop, your whole body shaking, your mind all foggy and when you try to open your eyes they're all hazy so you just close them again. You calm your breathing and slowly take your dildo out. It plops out and sounds like it splashed out. Really sounds like you got filled.

You sigh and bring your dildo up to your lips softly kissing it. You then lick it and get a taste of your creamy pussy until you start to lick it off the whole thing. You get the taste of your pussy off your entire dildo until you find yourself sucking on it again. You take it down your throat just gagging on it until you pull it out and breathe out. All done.

You leave it on your stomach as you rub your eyes slowly a yawn coming out of your mouth. Wonder what time it is. You lean over to your bedside table putting it on a clean towel and check your phone. It's 12:58pm. Damn.

You leave your phone there, and go back to your previous position on your bed and yawn again rubbing your eyes. When you open them you scream. You sit up trying to cover yourself fast but it's too late. "M-MIGUEL??? W-WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?!??!?" You yell pulling your tank top down, and grabbing your pillow to cover your bottom half.

Your cheeks have never felt this hot in your life, oh GOD WHAT DID HE HEAR-

You feel sick to your stomach- he's literally just standing in the middle of the room with his eyes closed? But WHY-

Your eyes are wide, cheeks so fucking red. Oh my god he saw everything- you gulp and reach down to quickly fix your panties and try to calm down. "So!??!??" You yell waiting for an answer.

He takes a step closer and you can finally see him clearly in the light. He was wearing a black tee with grey sweatpants making your breath hitch when you saw his stiff bulge. Once you look back at his face his eyes open and they're red.

You jump and your heart started beating fast as fuck. "Chingada madr— W- wha- who- Miguel? What the fuck-" (mother fucke-)

He walks over to the left side of the bed making you move to the other side scared shitless. He chuckles and as fast as you can blink he's on your side of the bed grabbing your hips and leading you against the wall, grinding you onto him. You whimper and try to get out of his grasp. "Don't try it doll... no need to act like you don't want me to play with you." He says using a finger to lift your chin to meet his eyes.

His red eyes filled with so much lust it scared you. Excited you even. "W-what are you-" You ask nervously biting your lip.

He chuckles again and pushes you against the wall. You gasp as his hands start to roam your body. You bite your lip as his hands caress your hips, smacks your ass, and then pulls on your hair from behind. Your head was pulled back as well and he leans in to kiss your neck. You moan and wrap your arms behind his neck twisting and pulling on pieces of hair. He groans against your skin and bites on it. You whimper and he leaves a wet kiss on it.

He pulls away but leans close to your face, "Wanna tell me what you were doing?" He leans in about to touch your quivering lips.

"I- uh I got- horny." You whisper breathing on his lips.

"Yeah? So horny you started thinking of me playing with you hmm?" Your thighs clench and you bite your lip looking up at him.

"Contéstame amor." He growls and you moan. (Answer me love)

"Mhm- it's not the first nor the last time I'll do it either." You say looking up at him with the most innocent eyes you could pull.

He groans and grinds his bulge against your stomach making your wide go wide. "Good girl...." He snarls making your thighs clench even more.

"What were you thinking of specifically right now as you came?" He asks tracing his fingers along your neck and collarbone.

"I- I- uh- mmm..."

"Answer." He growls and you nod.

He groans and quickly picks you up and holds you against the wall. "So you like being a dirty girl when I'm gone? Not even thinking I could catch you? Not bothering to think of how hard you make me...." He snarks a hand behind your neck.

This left you breathless and made you whimper more. You wrap your legs around his hips even more to have his bulge rub against your covered but drenched pussy. "I- fuck- I haven't touched myself in a week and I needed to feel something inside me- I n-never knew you thought of me that way-" you say and he growls grinding harder against you.

You both moan at the same time and he leans in millimeters from your lips. "I've been wanting to fuck you since we met." He whispers and you smash your lips together. He reciprocated and moans into your mouth.

You have one hand on his cheek and the other gripping hairs between your fingers. His were on your neck and playing with your hair. His tongue slides into your mouth and you let him. His tongue was exploring your mouth and you couldn't even believe this was happening. You tug on his shirt to take it off and he pulls away for literally a second somehow taking it off and his lips were back on yours. "Tan hermosa...." (So beautiful)

You moan and he grinds harder against you. He groans against your mouth and you feel him grab your tank top. Then you hear the sound of fabric ripping and in two seconds its gone. "I'll get you a new one." He mutters when you stopped kissing back to say something.

"So how long were you watching me for? you perv..." You ask pulling away finally getting your hands on his broad shoulders and big biceps.

"As soon as you started fucking yourself. God I heard your moans and couldn't help myself coming in to watch- mm I needed to finally have you for myself." He answers and leaves another mark on your neck but going towards your chest.

"You can have all of me." You whisper making him squeeze your tits roughly and suck on your nipple so roughly.

You gasp and he carries you to the bed. He puts you down towards the middle and he gets on top of you kissing you desperately. Your hands are all over each other and the kiss get more and more heated, needy, and hot. He pulls away and leaves trails of kisses on your jaw, when he leaves a couple marks on your neck. "Fuck-"

He kisses them after leaving marks and goes down to suck on your nipples again while his hand goes down to rub you over your panties. "Mmm- fuck- así M-Miguel." You moan out and feel yourself shake a bit.

He runs your clit a little faster but it's still sensitive so you buck your hips up whining. He stops and pulls away looking up at you, "was that too much?"

"N-no just uh still sensitive." You say looking anywhere but his eyes.

"Then how about no foreplay and I just fuck you?" He whispers making you clench your thighs.

He smirks and leans in to kiss you. You tug on the waistband of his sweats while kissing him and he grunts. "Well actually I might wanna use your mouth a bit...." He says and you smile.

You grab him and flip positions so you're on top of him. You sit up and place yourself right on his bulge and grind on it slowly. He leans his head back his mouthing in the shape of an o and his breathing heavy. "Don't tease me too much or you won't end up liking the outcome...."

You shrug and lay one hand against his chest while grinding against him. "Jesus you're so hard- did you even stroke yourself watching me or just tortured yourself and watched?" You ask with a chuckle making him smirk.

"Might’ve been more interested in the show to even do anything...." He says and winks.

You grin and go down his body, tracing your fingers along every crevice and line, along his abs and v line. You lick down his v line to where his sweats were. "Don't need these right now..." you pull them down as he shifts up a bit so you can get them over his ass.

You slide them all the way down and just look at his bulge over his tight fitting boxers. It looks so long and thick. "Wore these on purpose hm?"

"Just took a guess." He says with a smirk.

You grab the top of the boxers and pull them off slowly until you get to where the whole thing just plops out and hits his stomach making your eyes widen. "Now suck on it like you sucked on your dildo." He says making you gulp. He's insane.

It was a good 8 to 9 inches but so fucking girthy your mind couldn't wrap your head around it. You grab the bottom of it and you have to practically grab it with both your hands. You bite your lip then kiss the tip softly. Then you stick your tongue out and slap it against your wet tongue. He quietly moans and you look up at him and do it again. He rolls his eyes back and his head against the headboard. You giggle and spit on the tip watching it all go down and slowly stroke it to have all the saliva cover it. You spit on it some more and start stroking him. While you do that you go down to his balls and suck on them. You could hear him moan some more and you could feel how wet it's making you. "Así cariño no pares- ay si-" (Just like that dear don't stop- oh fuck)

You stroke him a little faster now and come up to suck on it. You get in a decent position and slide it in your mouth slowly. You close your eyes and start going down and back up. You go about halfway until he thrusts his hips making you take the whole thing down your throat, and you moan on it. You pull up and breathe out. "Would you prefer to fuck my face? I don't have a gag reflex...."

He widens his eyes and grabs you leading you towards the floor. You get on your knees while he stands in front of you. "It won't be for too long.... This time." He says with a wink making your cheeks flush red.

"I just really need to feel your throat real quick... then that wet pussy." He says and you nod.

"You can pull on my hair too if you want..."

"Dios- porque estas tan perfecta- mas que me imaginé..." he says and goes straight to work grabbing your hair with one hand and letting you put your mouth on it first. (God- why are you so perfect- more than I imagined...)

He starts to slowly move his hips letting you adjust for a few seconds before he finally starts going faster. Your head is still and he's the one doing all the moving, you close your eyes while you feel him in your mouth going deeper and deeper. You feel him go down your throat and he keeps hitting it making you drip. He goes faster and he doesn't stop moaning your name while still having a tight grip on your hair. "Fuck- Y/n your t-throat feels so good."

You moan against his dick and he groans. "Fuck this-" he says and moving back and sliding his dick out of your mouth.

He grabs your hands helping you get up only to have him man handle you on to the bed making you lay on your stomach. "Ass up now." He says in a stern voice and you comply.

You move your ass as much as you can and then arch your back. "The dirtiest girl huh?" He smirks and lines up his dick to your pussy.

"Nomas para ti Miguel." You murmur looking back at him and he moans and slams into you making you jump and whimper. (Just for you Miguel)

"H-holy fu- oh s-shit-!" you moan, your legs shaking already.

He grabs onto your hips and starts fucking you faster already not letting you adjust at all. You moan and roll your eyes back. He's moaning and groaning the room filled with the sound of skin to skin, his body against yours. "Migue-" you moan out and lay your head against the bed.

"Fuck baby- god you feel so much better than I thought you would." He says making you whimper and clench cashing him to moan.

"Fuck- oh fuck you're so tight around me baby-"

His words just do something to your body and you're already feel all dazed and obsessed with him fucking you. So many months of fantasizing and now it's finally happening. He's pounding into you and smacking your ass leaving it red. "Miguel deeper plea-"

He cuts you off by fucking you deeper making you both moan and making you clench around him again as well as whine. "O-oh fuck- oh Miguel I'm-"

"Me too baby, fuck I wanna cum inside you-" he moans out and you clench again making him go faster.

He's pounding into you and you feel your orgasm come fast. He moans with every trust he makes and it's driving you insane. Your arch is no longer an arch as your legs were slowly giving up on you but that didn't stop Miguel from still fucking you hard and also leaning down to you his mouth to your ear, and whispering dirty things to you. "Así soñabas que te cogiera nena? Eh? Quisiste esto desde que me viste huh? Yo se que yo si, mmm desde que v-veniste el primer día." (Is this how you dreamed I'd fuck you baby girl? You've wanted this since you first saw me huh? I know I did, mm since the first time you c-came.)

Your eyes rolls back and you whimper, "fuck- yes- fuck I dreamt you'd fuck me like this every- every fucking night Miguel."

He goes back to his original position but he flips you around so you're on your back while he was still inside you. "I wanna look at your pretty face while I cum deep inside you."

You wrap your arms around his neck and bring him in for a kiss. It's instantly needy and desperate, his tongue in your mouth and yours trying to go into his, with his pace still going strong. "P-pleas-"

He goes a bit slower and he moans in your mouth. Your hands go to his back light digging your nails into his skin which makes him groan. He fucks you deeper again unexpectedly so your nails dig into his skin a little harder and you feel close. "M-Miguel- I'm so- fu- I'm so clo-"

He pulls away him your mouth and nods, "me too angel- cum with me."

You moan and wrap your legs around his legs and it feels even bigger inside you. You both moan together and his legs start shaking. You're feeling tired fast but you need to cum with him. Your eyes are closing as you're ready for him to cum inside you to sleep together. You both start shaking as you clench around him and he groans finally shooting his cum inside you and your orgasm takes over, your legs shaking as he stops. You're both panting in each others face when he goes all the way inside you making sure every inch of you is covered. He slowly pulls out and all his cum spills out. "Jesus fuck Y/n- holy- god that pussy worked fucking wonders."

You shake and just nod before closing your eyes and losing consciousness. "Goodnight love."

#miguel ohara #Miguel O’Hara #Miguel o hara #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara oneshot #Miguel O’Hara smut #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara x you

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jobean12-blog · 10 months

Text

After the Fall

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 6,399

Summary: Bucky is your first love...your first everything so when things fall apart in college over a stupid misunderstanding you’re completely heartbroken but manage to move on...that is until your past comes back in a way you least expect it.

Author’s Note: When Bucky and reader are dating they are at least 18 and when they reconnect their age is up to you- but they are obviously adults. The type of jobs mentioned are also up to interpretation- it’s a business thing for sure but as far as details it’s up to you! I had this whole moodboard planned to show the progression from young Bucky to now but I suck at them so instead I stuck some pictures in the middle of the fic to give you an idea :) And the first pic is what he looks like now hehe 🥵Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Dividers by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: some angsty parts over past events, both Bucky and reader have lots of feels, there’s soft fluff and sweetness, i-m-pl-ie-d s-e-x-y times, f-in-g-er-in-g, some light d-i-rt-y ta-lk, Bucky is delicious of course lol

You pace your apartment and try not to fiddle with your outfit any more than you already have. It’s only seven thirty am and you’ve been up since six. You still have an hour and a half before you have to meet with Steve for your first official day of work.

Maybe you should leave now…New York City public transportation can never be trusted. The office building is only a fifteen-minute train ride but just to be sure…

Twenty-five minutes later you find yourself sitting in the lobby of the large building, your face to your phone and your foot bouncing rapidly. Several people walk by and you barely notice them, keeping an eye on the time and carefully sipping your drink.

But then you hear heavy footsteps and a hushed voice, one that sounds almost familiar and just as you look up you catch the retreating back of a tall man, broad shouldered and with long dark hair neatly tied into a bun at the base of his neck.

You stare until he disappears inside the elevator, your whole-body tingling with awareness. Could it be your past has finally caught up with you after all this time? Or is it just the constant lingering feeling of what you never truly got over?

Just a coincidence. It has to be.

After several blinks you check your phone again and decide it’s time to head up to Steve’s office.

The receptionist outside his office greets you warmly before picking up the phone and letting Steve know you’re here.

You knock, even though you don’t have to, and wait until you hear Steve call you inside. When you open the door you notice he’s quietly speaking to someone and due to your sudden onset of nerves it doesn’t register that it’s the same man from earlier until he turns around and his ocean blue eyes meet yours.

Eyes you know. Eyes you had fell in love with a long time ago.

Your stomach plummets to your toes and you must look like a deer caught in headlights because Steve stands suddenly and rounds his desk.

“Are you ok?” Steve asks but your eyes are still glued to Bucky.

Steve calls your name and you finally look at him and swallow hard with a nod but your eyes flicker back to Bucky when he starts to move toward the door.

Bucky says something to Steve that you don’t register and already has one foot out the door before Steve stops him.

“Hey Buck, wait a second. I want to introduce you to our new executive assistant.”

Bucky stops short, still facing the hallway and slowly turns, plastering a fake smile on his face.

Steve gives him your name and you hold out a shaky hand.

The moment his skin touches yours you feel him over every inch of your body and a flood of memories assaults you, leaving you almost speechless.

“Bucky is my partner,” Steve says proudly.

You manage a small hello and quickly pull your hand back. Bucky looks away, nodding to Steve before leaving the office.

Steve’s eyebrows are drawn in with concern as he moves his gaze back to you.

“That was weird,” he mutters, studying you and you think he’s waiting for an explanation.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted anything,” you say softly.

“Not at all,” Steve answers with a warm smile. “Now come and sit. Let’s get you set up for your first day.”

You visibly relax and take a deep breath, reminding yourself that you’ve worked hard to get this position and you won’t let anything, not even your first boyfriend, your first love…your first everything, get in your way.

Thankfully the rest of your first day goes smoothly with no sign of Bucky and you have enough work to keep your brain busy and focused.

It’s when you get home, toe your heels off and fall onto the couch that the day catches up with you, breaking like a wave against the rocks and you sink deeper into the cushions with a groan.

Your cell rings, pulling your from your thoughts.

“Hey Nat,” you say tiredly as you greet your best friend.

“HOW WAS THE FIRST DAY?” she says, far too loudly.

You wince but a small smile pulls at your lips.

“It was great. Steve is so sweet and I was busy all day but kicked ass.”

“I knew it,” she says. “But I get the sense there’s more…”

She waits, always patient and far too perceptive.

“What do you mean more?” you ask, trying to sound easy and breezy.

“Babe,” she admonishes. “I can hear it in your voice.”

When you don’t elaborate she says, “I’m here and ready to listen when you want to talk.”

Her kind words are all you need to hear before you sigh heavily and blurt out, “Bucky works at the firm. He’s Steve’s partner.”

Silence on the other end of the line.

“Nat?”

“Wow,” is all she says.

“I know.”

“Are you ok?” she asks, her voice tentative.

“I will be,” you answer, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Dare I ask…how did he look? It’s been so long!”

The image of him flashes in your mind but it’s blurry and mixed with the younger version of him you know from your past.

“Honestly, I don’t even know. I barely registered more than his eyes. I was in shock.”

“Understandable,” she says. “Want me to come over?”

“No but thank you. I’m just going to take a bath and go to bed. I have the rest of the week to get through.”

“Ok babe. Call me if you need me.”

“I will, thank you again.”

Once you have a warm bath running, bubbles dancing along the surface and the calming scent of lavender filling the space, you sink under the water, hoping to wash away the day and maybe even some of the past.

The phone at your desk rings and you answer with your well-practiced greeting, smiling when you hear Steve’s voice. He lets you know he’ll be out of the building most of the day, handling some meetings downtown and that Bucky will be here should you need anything.

You hang up and square your shoulders, refocusing on your computer screen and doing your best to push Bucky to the back of your mind.

It works until an hour before lunch when you get a notification for a meeting. The e-mail doesn’t give you many details, just a time and place to be. Silently praying it has nothing to do with Bucky you gather your lap top and bag and make your way to the top floor.

The office door is closed but you can hear voices and when you knock and hear Bucky say, “come in,” you instantly tense up.

He repeats the words and you finally find the strength to push open the door.

Three sets of eyes turn your way, only one of them familiar. The other two men openly admire you and you have to force yourself not to sneer at them.

Bucky must notice because he says, “gentleman if you don’t mind we have business to conduct.” His words are firm but harsh and the two other men clear their throats and look away to absentmindedly fix their ties.

You step inside, shutting the door behind you and sitting at the small conference table.

A shadow appears over you and you look up to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“I need you to take minutes for the meeting and…”

The rest of his words fade away as you finally take a moment to get a good look at him. His voice is deeper now, his suit filled out with muscles he didn’t have when you were younger and his hair…his hair is long enough to brush his shoulders.

His presence is overwhelming, sending shockwaves through every nerve in your body and making them buzz with memories.

“You still with me?” Bucky asks, a cocky smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

You nod and look down at your computer.

The meeting lasts about an hour and you do your job perfectly regardless of the fact that your heart is in your throat and your stomach is in knots.

“Thanks gentleman,” Bucky says as the two men get up to leave.

They both glance your way again with matching smiles and one of them opens his mouth to speak but Bucky quickly interjects.

“Meetings over.”

They leave without another word and you and Bucky are alone in his office.

You can feel his eyes on you and when you look up at him his jaw is clenching and his eyes are hard.

“Small world, huh?.”

He grunts, which you take as an agreement.

“I didn’t know you were Steve’s partner,” you start, inwardly berating yourself for the quiver in your voice. “This was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”

“I can tell you know what you’re doing,” he says, leaning over the table. “This is all strictly professional.”

“Right,” you agree.

He stares for a moment longer then dips his chin before saying, “I’m going to lunch. You can see yourself out.”

You’re left staring blankly at the empty space he just occupied, the silence he left behind deafening and filled with so many unspoken words.

“Better day today?” Nat asks, this time from the couch beside you.

“I sat in on a meeting Bucky was conducting.”

“Oo,” she says, pouring you more wine.

“He looks so good Nat. Even better than before and I didn’t think that was possible…his hair is long now.”

She lifts her eyebrow and smirks. “Better huh? Well, he must be losing his mind over you.”

You smile at her in thanks but shrug. “He couldn’t have left his office quicker if I had set him on fire,” you joke.

“Are you ever going to talk about what happened?” she asks, eyeing you from over the rim of her glass.

“What’s there to talk about? We were young. When we talked about going to different schools he made it sound so easy. We’d visit every weekend. Be together every break and talk every day on the phone. But then…things just happened.”

“What things?” she asks gently.

“I kept hearing from other friends that he was studying,” and you make air quotes with the word, “with some girl named Sharon from this classes. I never asked about it because I trusted him but then we both got busier and we had less time…he seemed distant, or maybe it was just me. Things started to fall apart. Then I met Matt…”

She smiles wryly at the mention of your ex.

“More wine please,” you say with huff.

The next two days go by without a hitch. Steve seems very pleased with your work so far and you start to settle into your role well.

However, things fall apart again when Friday rolls around and you’re standing in the hallway speaking to one of the gentleman, Brad, from the meeting earlier in the week. He found you on your way to the staff room and practically cornered you to introduce himself.

“So, you should come out with us tonight. It’s a good way to end the week,” Brad says.

He leans closer to you, into your personal space, and you take a step back just as Bucky rounds the corner.

Your back meets his chest and you lunge forward but you never get far because Bucky’s hands wrap around your waist and he hauls you back to him.

“Woah,” you say, freezing at the feel of his hands on you.

Brad laughs but it quickly fades when he sees the murderous look on Bucky’s face.

“What’s going on here?” Bucky asks. “Don’t you two have work to get done.”

Your mouth drops open with a sassy retort but Brad beats you to it.

“We just met in the hallway and I was inviting her to drinks tonight,” Brad says lightly.

Bucky turns his eyes to you. “I was just going to grab my lunch. It’s my break.”

Your tone is defensive and you lift your chin defiantly.

“That might not be the best idea,” Bucky starts, turning back to Brad with a smirk. “She’s a lightweight….one too many drinks and she might be…”

“Don’t finish that sentence Barnes,” you spit out.

Both Bucky and Brad look taken aback then Brad breaks the awkward stare down between you and Bucky with a question.

“Do you two know each other?”

Bucky keeps his eyes on you when he answers with, “will you excuse us Brad. We need a minute alone.”

Brad looks between the two of you. “Ok, no problem.” But before he walks away he says to you, “hope to see you tonight.”

Bucky glares at Brad’s back then gently takes your arm and hauls you down to the nearest office. He opens the door and ushers you inside.

“What is your problem?” you ask before he even shuts the door.

“Why were you talking to Brad?” he asks.

You groan and fist your hands at your sides.

“It’s just like he said. We met in the hallway and he asked me to come out for drinks tonight!”

Bucky grunts.

“What is it with all the grunting? And I can’t believe you were about to make some shitty comment about my drinking!”

His shoulders sag and his eyes soften slightly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that but….”

He growls and turns away from you.

“But you broke my heart doll!”

When he finally turns back your way there are tears shining in your eyes. At his words, at the use of the endearment he saved only for you and at the way he looks once again, like the boy you fell in love with all those years ago.

“Yeah, well…you broke mine too,” you whisper as you look down at your feet.

You stand there in silence for what feels like forever before quietly saying. “We have to work together now. We can’t let our history be a problem. I want this job. I’ve worked hard for it.”

He scoffs and meets your gaze.

“Friends?” you ask, holding out your hand.

He stares at your outstretched hand but doesn’t’ take it as he steps incrementally closer.

“History?” Is that what you’re calling it?”

His voice is a growl, low and powerful.

“Bucky,” you try again.

“No doll. I can’t do friends with you. I know what you taste like when you come screaming my name.”

The memories wash over you, making your skin heat and your head dizzy. You’re reeling between feeling aroused and ashamed and angry.

“I’m not friends with people who give up on everything and bail for something new and shiny.”

His words hurt, hitting right where he wants them but you gather your strength and remind yourself that you’re here because you should be and what happened between you and Bucky has nothing to do with it.

“Seriously? It was so long ago, Bucky. Something tells me you haven’t been locked away and pining for me all this time.”

Your eyes slowly devour every inch of him. “No, I think you’ve been just fine without me.”

“See something you like doll face?” he murmurs.

He stands up straight and tall, crossing his arms over his chest and causing the fabric of his suit jacket to pull tightly at his bulging biceps and his long legs are spread wide as he smiles sardonically.

You can’t stop your gasp before it passes your lips. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” he mocks.

You don’t want to answer his question because it’s true. You do like it. More than you want to admit.

His long hair curls at his shoulders, neatly styled and framing a sharp jawline that’s lined with dark scruff, some spots even peppered with gray. His full lips are soft and kissable and his hands…you know what those hands are capable of. Long fingers that are now adorned with rings, the shining gold glinting under the bright lights of the office and drawing your attention, spread wide over his arms.

It’s suffocating but you can’t stop your blatant perusal.

Your eyes drop to his long legs and what’s between them, his suit pants straining against what’s behind his zipper, the thick cock that stretched you for the first time.

His smile is filled with arrogance as it widens into a grin and his gaze sears you, rooting you in place as he leisurely looks his fill.

“I certainly like what I see,” he says, licking his lips. “But none of that matters any more, right? Old news.”

“I won’t let you ruin this opportunity for me,” you tell him, willing your voice to stay even. “And I know Steve suspected something was up when I walked in the first day so don’t…”

“I already told Steve we have a past but don’t worry I didn’t tell him all the shitty details,” Bucky retorts. “Your secret is safe with me.”

He stands there with an expectant look on his face.

“Are you waiting for a thank you!” you almost shout. “I can’t believe it.”

You see his mouth opening to interrupt you, but you hold up a staying hand.

“Let’s just agree to be professional so we can do our jobs.”

You take a step around him but he blocks your way, his body large and imposing in the small space and when he leans down, his breath tickling your ear, and whispers, “I’ll see you on Monday then,” an involuntary shiver shoots down your spine.

He meets your eyes, his own sparkling with the same desire you know is in yours then reaches around you to open the door.

With a rush you shoot down the hallway and back to your office, silently praying no one caught you coming out of the room.

Once you’re safely inside with the door shut, you lean against it and finally let out a shuddering breath, swiping at your eyes.

“I’m exhausted,” you explain to Nat after telling her about the events of the day. “Even if I had wanted to go I would be asleep on the bar in minutes.”

“Well, just don’t let him dictate your social life. You have every right to go out and relax with coworkers. Especially cute ones. And you know I’ll come with you if you want.”

Nat’s words bring a smile to your face. “Thank you. Let’s just hope I can make it through next week.”

Later that night, after trying and failing to find something to watch that will keep your attention you crawl into bed and dream.

Your laid back on his bed as his stubble scratches along the sensitive skin of your neck and his whispered words reach your ears.

“You want my cock doll?”

You moan out his name, arching beneath him.

“Tell me.”

“Yes, yes I want your cock Bucky,” you purr.

His chuckle vibrates along your stomach as he moves lower. “Just need a taste first.”

“Please,” you beg just before his tongue flicks over your clit.

You push your hips into his face and he growls in approval.

“More,” you demand, and he obliges as one thick finger teases your opening.

You wake up just before he fills you, panting and disoriented. Looking around your dark room you can barely remember where you are. Or when. The past mixing with the present and creating something dangerous.

Your arousal is evident in the stickiness of your panties and you squeeze your thighs together in search of some relief. You sit up and take a sip of water from the glass on your nightstand, wishing it would quench more than your thirst. You consider finishing yourself off, it won’t take much, and he’ll never know, but you will.

Monday morning arrives faster than you’d like and you find yourself dragging your heels, literally, into the office.

You see Bucky in a meeting later that day and you notice him glancing your way several times, words and thoughts and emotions crossing over his face but you can’t decipher them.

The problem is you feel the same way. Confused and unsure…well maybe not unsure about everything. You definitely want him but that’s a line you know you shouldn’t cross, especially after the harsh words you exchanged last week.

The meeting ends and so does the day. And the next and the next until it’s Friday. It’s past five pm and you’re still in your office working on something for Steve. He pops his head in and tells you to leave but you wave him off and explain you’d rather get it done now and relax this weekend. He bids you goodbye once you promise not to stay too late.

You’re in the middle of a thought when the door opens again and without looking up you say, “don’t worry Steve, I should only be another hour then I promise I’ll go home.”

“Another hour and it will be dinner time.”

You look up at the sound of Bucky’s voice, your eyes wide and your lips lightly spread with surprise.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “Thought you were Steve.”

He smiles and for the first time you can tell it reaches his eyes.

“I’m going to be done at about the same time…dinner?”

You stare at him, not sure if you heard him right.

“Unless you had other plans toni…”

“No,” you interrupt. “I don’t and uh dinner sounds good. I’m starving actually.”

“Great, then I’ll see you in an hour. There’s this little noodle place we can walk to from here.”

You smile gratefully, waiting until the door shuts behind him to let out a whoosh of air.

“I don’t see a table,” you say as you look around Bucky into the restaurant.

He grabs your hand and you ignore the tingles that shoot up your arm as he drags you through the place. In the back corner, there’s a lone table, small but empty.

He holds his arm out, gesturing for you to sit. “I usually come hide in the back here if I have work to do but need food,” he explains.

You sit and he follows, plopping down across from you. The table’s so small that his knees bump yours underneath.

“Ow,” you hiss.

“Shit, sorry doll,” he mumbles as he moves his chair, bringing him closer to your side.

“I forgot how big your are.”

Your eyes go wide as you hear your own words come out of your mouth.

“Man doll face, you sure know how to hurt a guy’s feelings.”

His tone is light and teasing but you look down, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you fidget with your hands and try not to remember exactly how big he really is.

Thankfully the waitress stops by to ask for your drink order. Once you tell her what you want you sit quietly and peek over at Bucky.

He looks nervous and for some reason it makes you feel better.

You both start to speak at the same time then laugh over your jumbled words.

“Go ahead doll,” he says.

“I was going to remind you of how much we used to talk. Remember all those nights we stayed up late either on the phone or hanging out in our favorite spot on the roof.”

His eyes sparkle at the thought. “Of course I remember. There never seemed to be enough time.”

The waitress reappears with your drinks and sets them down.

“Still like that whiskey huh?” Bucky teases. “I remember the first time you tried whiskey.”

“Oh gosh, I try not to,” you groan.

He suddenly looks sad. “I’m sorry about that comment last week…about the drinking. And about most of what I said. It was harsh. It’s just. This is hard,” and he gestures between the two of you.

“I get it. Believe me.”

“What happened to us?” you say after taking a sip of your drink.

“So much,” he responds. “But I feel…”

His words are interrupted when the waitress appears with your food. You take a few bites, focusing on chewing and swallowing as you muster up the courage to say the next words.

“I never gave up on us,” you start, your voice pained. “I never bailed…I heard so many things…people were talking.”

“What did you hear?” he asks, his fork held tightly between his fingers. “What are you talking about?”

“People were telling me you were with Sharon all the time…studying…and I wasn’t sure what else. You pulled back, we talked less…I don’t know it just didn’t feel the same. I was losing you.”

“Losing me?!” he says, far too loudly for the space. He squeezes his eyes shut then continues, his voiced hushed but still angry. “I was just trying to keep my grades up. I was struggling. I missed you so much and I couldn’t handle it. My grades slipped and the idea of you thinking I was a failure was too much on top of everything else. Sharon was just helping me. Nothing ever happened between us.”

You stare at him, your eyes glassy as they fill with unshed tears. “I don’t understand. When I asked you to come visit so we could talk…you…you were so hesitant, I thought it was because you were going to break up with me and then…you never showed.”

“I did. I did show,” he says quietly. “But you were with Matt.”

“What?” you gasp. “When? How come you didn’t tell me?”

“I was too ashamed. I figured you had moved on to someone better, someone who was able to keep their shit together and I didn’t want to mess that up for you.”

“Bucky,” you whisper. “I wasn’t with Matt. We were just friends.”

“But it didn’t stay that way,” he says, his tone accusatory.

“No. But that wasn’t until I knew it was over for us. I was completely heartbroken and it never worked out with Matt. He couldn’t get over the fact that I was still in love with you.”

That knocks the wind out of him and the two of you sit there, staring and uncertain.

He abruptly stands, knocking into the table. “Come on, let’s dance.”

“What?” you screech as he grabs your hand. “There isn’t even any music. This is a restaurant!?”

You don’t fight him as he tugs you away from the table and to the other side of the small room and when you spot the jukebox you can’t help the smile forming on your lips.

“I should have known you’d take me to a place with one of these,” you laugh.

He looks over his shoulder and winks before he starts scrolling through the songs. He stops on one but you can’t see the name then presses a few more buttons before he takes your hand again and pulls you to him.

The music starts and you almost stumble into him, recognizing the melody immediately.

“Your favorite,” he says quietly, drinking you in with his eyes.

You sway together and he spins you slowly, his hand teasing along your lower back. He takes your hand and lays your palm against his chest as you move back and forth. It’s not really dancing, more like you’re pressed together, shifting on your feet.

When you move your fingers across his chest you feel his sharp intake of breath. Your eyes trace the movements as your hand spans his broad chest then grazes over the gold chain peeking out from the open buttons of his shirt.

“I like all this,” you say quietly, pressing the chain into his skin before you glance at the rings on his fingers.

“Glad to hear it doll,” he rumbles, looking far too pleased.

Your hand slides to his bicep and he flexes, smirking when you look up at him through your lashes.

“When do you have time to work out?” you whisper into the small space between you as your gaze wanders over his arms.

“Early in the morning,” he answers. “And you should see the rest of me.”

Need rumbles through his voice and you look up to meet his eyes.

“Bucky…”

He kisses you before you can finish the thought, stealing your breath. You freeze for a single heartbeat and then kiss him back with everything you have.

“Fuck doll.”

He wraps his arms around you tighter, pulling you against him and you lean into him willingly, a moan vibrating through you. His hand slips around to cup your throat, his thumb brushing over your jaw as he tilts your head back, deepening the kiss.

The music stops and you hear a few catcalls from some random guys at another table. It breaks the spell and you take a step back.

You start to panic and he can tell, his hands tightening at your waist.

“Doll…”

“No, we can’t.”

“Yes we fucking can,” he answers back. “We’re adults and we can do whatever the fuck we want. And make no mistake,” he continues, grasping your chin between his thick fingers to force your eyes to his, “I want you.”

You audibly swallow and sway into him. He holds you close, his eyes wandering over your face expectantly.

“I just…I panicked. I need a minute,” you admit.

He visibly relaxes and slides his knuckles along your curves to find your hand before taking it in his and pulling you toward the door.

“Where are we going?” you ask once you’re outside.

“I’m walking you home,” he says quietly, not letting go of your hand. “Just like when we were kids.”

You smile and press closer to him, loving the feel of his thumb brushing over your knuckles. The walk is mostly silent as your mind races to find the right words. You want this. Want him. But is it too much too quickly? It’s been so long but even so your body remembers him, has his touch memorized and seared into your skin and your heart…your heart has been full of him since the day you met.

When you reach your apartment building you stop. “This is me.”

He waits patiently for you to speak but when you don’t he asks, “so now what?”

“I want this. You. Us. I never stopped wanting it,” you confess. “But we’ve both hurt each other and I think we need to take it slow.”

“I’ll do whatever you want if it means you’re willing to give this a chance,” he answers. “But I can’t promise I’ll behave…I’ve been dreaming about being inside you for far too long and my hand just ain’t cutting it doll.”

You bite your lip, desire written all over your face even as you try to shoot him an admonishing glare.

“But we’ll start with a date,” he says softly. “And I know just where I’m gonna take you.”

With a small nod you lean forward and kiss the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering on the taste of his skin before you pull away and move from his embrace.

“Tomorrow?” he asks. “Or too soon?”

“Tomorrow,” you repeat.

“HE KISSED YOU?” Nat screeches and you have to move the phone away.

You’re nodding before you realize she can’t see you.

“Yes, right there in the middle of the noodle place.”

“Well?”

“Well what?” you ask.

“How was it?”

You sigh almost dreamily. “Better than I remember which I didn’t think was possible.”

“And you’re sure you’re ok with this?”

“I’m feeling so much but the thing I’m feeling most is the fact that I want him. I’m hoping it’s more than a physical thing. It feels more than that because to be completely honest I never stopped loving him.”

“I’m glad you’re giving this a chance,” Nat says. “Just go at a pace that makes you comfortable.”

“So I should have sex with him tomorrow…? Because I’m perfectly comfortable.”

You can hear Nat’s snicker. “Girl, if you do I better get every dirty detail.”

You giggle and cover your mouth, feeling lighter than you have in weeks.

“Just keep them closed ok?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and hold tightly to his hand, stepping on the backs of his feet several times as he leads you to your date spot.

“Sorry Buck,” you laugh.

“It’s ok doll, just another few steps.”

You hear something metal creak open and then a blast of cool air hits your face. He throws his arm around your shoulder and tucks you into his side.

“Ok, open your eyes.”

You’re met with a scene that takes your breath away. It’s both familiar and new, the old roof top a space you frequented when you were younger but now it’s been brought to life in a whole new way.

Soft string lights hang from a make shift canopy where underneath you see a small chaise lounge that’s covered in a plush blanket and cocooned by fluffy pillows.

“Oh Bucky,” you gush. “You did all this?”

He smiles and kisses your forehead. “I remember how much you loved it up here.”

“It’s beautiful. All of it.”

“I have one last thing to show you. C’mere.”

He pulls you along with him and pauses near the old fire escape.

“Close your eyes,” he orders again, slipping his hands over them from behind.

You laugh and reach up to hold his wrists, fiddling with the gold bracelet that dangles loosely there. “What are you doing?”

“This,” he whispers along the shell of your ear.

He moves his hands from your eyes and you gasp and cover your mouth, but then reach out, tracing one finger over the etched lines in the metal.

Your initials are carved neatly into the rusted metal, still standing out against the weathered material after all this time.

You spin in his arms, your eyes falling to his lips just as you lick your own, his eyes tracking the movement.

“Thank you Bucky.”

And then you kiss him. He grabs your face gently between his large hands, nipping at your lower lip and you open for him without hesitation. You press into him and he slides his hands down your back, brushing his thumbs over the sides of your breasts.

You whimper his name, moving your lips to his neck to trace down the muscular column.

“Fuck,” he groans as he walks you back toward the chaise lounge. With a spin he sits down and pulls you into his lap, your thighs on either side of his.

You pull back, your eyes bright and your lips swollen.

“You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your whispered thanks gets lost in the moment as he dips his head and drags his nose along your skin, inhaling softly.

“Whatever you want doll. Anything, nothing. Say the word and it’s yours.”

His words are rough even as his hands move delicately to caress your body.

You lean forward, softly kissing along his jawline toward his ear, your breath fanning his skin when he squeezes your ass.

“Touch me.”

“Touch you where doll? You want me to fill you with my fingers?” You want my mouth. I’ll lick up every last drop of whatever you wanna give me.”

You tremble in his arms, tugging at the button down that hangs loosely over his shoulders, your fingers splaying over his exposed skin as he shrugs it off. You rake your nails over his tight white tank, desperate for more of him but instead he tucks his fingers under your shirt and pulls it up and off.

His large hand covers your breast, his thumb brushing your nipple through your bra and you arch your back, pushing your chest into his face.

Your hips rock, rubbing up and down over the hard ridge of his cock.

“I’m gonna come in my pants if you don’t stop that baby doll.”

You don’t stop. Can’t. And when his fingers pop open the button of your pants you grind down even harder, needing more.

His fingers move lower and he hisses at the softness of your skin before he finds you soaked and ready for him.

“Yes,” you breathe out. “More.”

“Right here?” he teases, lightly brushing his finger over your clit.

He spreads your juices all over you, coating his fingers and your skin until you’re completely wild for him, writhing as you try to fuck his hand.

Two thick fingers sink inside you, his rings hitting your skin as he meets every one of your thrusts, going faster and harder when you mewl for more with every stroke.

“Bucky. I’m gonna come,” you warn.

“Come for me doll. Come all over my fingers. Squeeze me tight.”

His words send you careening over the edge and you cry out his name but he doesn’t stop the slow pumping of his fingers, drawing out every last bit of your pleasure.

You collapse against him, your head laying along his shoulder. His skin is warm and soft beneath your cheek and you can’t help but press your lips there. You spasm on his fingers once more before he slowly pulls them free and brings them between you, staring at the glistening proof of what he does to you.

With a predatory gleam in his eyes he holds you gaze and pushes his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean one by one.

“Fuck doll, you’re so sweet. I almost forgot how good you taste.”

You turn your face to his as your fingers tip toe down his chest, catching on the gold chain that rests against his warm skin, before moving lower.

“What about you?”

He rests his hands over yours, stopping you from undoing the button of his jeans.

“Not yet baby doll. I want to at least give you a real date first.”

“Are you being all gentlemanly now?” you pout. “We’ve had sex up here before.”

“I’ll fuck this pussy anywhere and anytime you’ll let me, but you want to go slow and this is more than just fucking. It always has been. When I get back inside you, it’ll be because we’ve worked through all this shit for good, all the shit that never should have gotten in our way. And there won’t be any going back. You’ll be mine again.”

Even though you always have been.

@sstan-hoe @lookiamtrying @hallecarey1 @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @late-to-the-party-81 @randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose @sebstanwhore @book-dragon-13 @littleseasiren @justkinsey @beccablogsthings @laineyreads

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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 years

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Eddie Munson x fem!reader [6.7k] just smut, really. soft, sweet eddie, who finally gets a chance to take you home. a friends with benefits situation.

Eddie Munson was a really good kisser. He was really good at eating you out too. He had nice hands, big, heavy, with guitar string scars that felt rough and lovely on your bare skin. He liked it when you tugged his curls, he liked it even better when you got a little loud.

He fucking loved it when you told him what to do.

You weren’t sure how your situation with the boy started, but it had been a few months now.. He went from a pretty face you knew in school, to a friend of Steve’s, introduced to you at a party. Then there was a rolled joint offered to you in the woods behind school, shoulders bumping, eyes interested, laughter exchanged.

Knowing eyes gazing over the other by the lockers, the offer of a ride home one day when it rained and didn’t stop. It went from there, more looks, heated and heavy, a hand on a knee, fingers that brushed back hair.

And then you were on his lap, dress gathered in one of Eddie’s hands as he held it out of his way so he could watch the way his cock slid in and out of you. He was noisy, encouraging you to do the same with low, rough moans and teeth that nipped at your jaw, your neck.

That was it, an addiction that needed to be fed, kisses that you couldn’t really go without for more than a day or two and after the last bell rang, you found his van in the school parking lot. Eddie could never make it further than past the old sports fields, pulling over somewhere private so he could get his hands on you, needy and greedy and all consuming.

It’s where you found yourself now, parked behind the old building that used to house the soccer teams changing rooms, hidden from view from the school, its students, the main roads. You were comfy in Eddie’s lap, a familiar weight on his thighs, your skirt already rucked up around your hips.

His lips were that maddening touch of soft, slow, fast, deep, lazy, needy, teeth, tongue, fuck, god.

It turned heated fast, the same way it always did and it was fine, it was good. It always was. It didn’t matter if Eddie had you in his lap for five hours or five minutes, the boy always made you come. He had a way of making it creep up on you, hard and fast, eyes rolling, white flashes of heat rippling through your body and then there were stars. Stars everywhere.

The boy kissed constellations onto your lips, dripping gold dust over your skin.

He had his hands under your skirt, palms squeezing at the flesh of your ass, kneading each cheek in a way that made your skin prickle with heat ‘cause he was spreading you over his thighs and it that made you feel real fucking dirty.

You were breathless, hands in his curls, pulling him closer, eyes fluttering at the way he sucked another bruise you couldn’t explain onto your neck.

You felt close enough to fall apart without him even touching you, underwear still on, lace slick and wet already, but Jesus Christ, he hadn’t put his hands on you yet. Not really. You were a livewire, body electric, the air around you both buzzing.

It wouldn’t last long when you were both like this, pent up from not seeing each other for five days, school and homework and jobs and hellfire meetings keeping you apart. And well, a five minute fuck wasn’t going to do. No, not anymore.

So you pushed at his chest, firm enough that his head fell back onto the headrest and Eddie’s hair was a mess and his brown eyes were wide. He was staring, chest heaving, palms still squeezing at the curve of your ass, fingers grazing over the lace edges of your underwear.

"Slow down," you tell him, voice a whisper.

You were sure you heard him whine, a pretty noise that got stuck at the back of his throat. You plucked the chain that lay there, shiny against his collar bones, and you twisted it between your fingers. It was sinful the way you used it to pull him a little closer again, nose brushing against the bridge of his own, lips hovering just out of reach.

He could’ve moved him he wanted to, surged forward and took control, kissed the commands right off your lips. But he didn’t.

“You can have me all night, if you want."

He whined, whimpered. You heard it that time.

"Be a little soft about it, huh? Nice and slow, for me, please?"

And then Eddie was nodding, eyes turning to burnt caramel, hooded and staring at you. His jaw was slack, lips parted and glossy from your kisses and suddenly his hands were skimming over your thighs, climbing up to hold at your waist instead. He touched you a little softer, sweeter than before and it made your stomach twist.

Fingers tucked your hair behind your ear, his heavy gaze taking in every feature, like he’d suddenly been told he could have you forever, like he wanted to commit you to memory in case you changed your mind.

Then he was kissing you again, slower like you asked, like he’d never kissed you before. Sweet and soft, his mouth a gentle push against your own and you so desperately wanted to lick into him, to tug on his pretty hair and make him grunt into you but that’s not what you asked for.

So you let Eddie set the pace, sighed into him, wriggled in his lap when he sucked the curve of your bottom lip between his own, and god were you going to regret this?

He tasted sweet, like the blue raspberry jolly rancher you’d seen Lucas hand him in the hallway, a little smoky underneath it, entirely like Eddie. He took his time with you, did as you asked him and the way he slowly curled his tongue around yours made your legs tingle, your heart skip a beat before racing a little faster than before.

His hand found your face, curving at your jaw, his thumb on your chin and he tap, tap, tapped at it until you let Eddie drag your mouth open a little more, whining when it resulted in him licking into you a little deeper.

He pulled away quicker than you would’ve liked, smiling all pretty at you when you gazed at him wide eyed. But then Eddie was nodding at the passenger seat, giving your ass a cute little smack.

“C’mon, sweetheart, seat belt on.”

You let his chain fall from your fingers, unsure you understood. But Eddie was surprisingly strong, wide hands clutching at your waist to lift you back over the console, dropping you a little clumsily onto the seat next to him.

“Eddie?” your voice was soft, a little worried, like maybe you’d crossed a line you weren’t sure the boy had.

But he was starting the engine, the van rumbling underneath you and then he was gazing over at you, bottom lip sucked between his teeth and god, he looked sinful, he looked like he wanted to eat you up. You’d let him, without hesitation.

“You said I could have you all night, yeah?” Eddie prompted, big eyes shining earnestly, his voice so sincere, like he couldn’t quite believe you’d told him such a thing. “Did you mean it?”

You nodded, suddenly shy and then Eddie was smiling, that wide, slow stretch of his lips that made you feel so many things. The van started moving, the boy tsked and nodded to your belt again, which you quickly pulled across your lap.

“Okay,” he nodded too, final in his decision. “Let’s go back to mine then, sweetheart.”

—————

You hadn’t been to Eddie’s before, not really. You knew which trailer was his, had seen in across from Max’s when you dropped her off with Steve, waved shyly and with warm cheeks when you saw the curly headed boy out of the front window.

You knew enough to realise his uncle Wayne was out, the older man’s car gone from the grassy makeshift drive. The park was quiet when Eddie parked up, making a noise of protest when you went to open the door for yourself. So you sat still, smiled hidden between pressed lips as you watched him bounce around the front of the van.

He opened your door with a shy grin, bright eyes and a hand that was ready to clasp your own. Eddie helped you down, wet grass brushing your ankles and it felt like a storm was coming with the way the air was buzzing.

Maybe it was just you and Eddie. Maybe it was just anticipation.

He opened the door to the trailer for you too, unusually quiet as his fingertips found the small of your back, guiding you inside the small house that was much cosier than you expected. It smelled a little smoky, like coffee and boyish cologne.

And then Eddie was rocking on the balls of his feet, fidgeting and pulling at a curl as he watched you take in his home.

“D’you, uh, want a drink or-?”

You turned, smiling soft like you wanted to show him you weren’t judging anything about the trailer. How could you? It was all Eddie.

“Do I not get to see your room, Munson?”

Eddie looked like he had all the air punched out of his lungs. The curl he’d pulled to brush against his mouth sprung back, his hands dropping to his sides as his eyes went wide.

He cleared his throat, nodding, giving a little bow and a wave of his arm, showing you down the narrow hallway. It was sweet, you thought, the way he was acting. Like he hadn’t been balls deep inside you countless times, as if he didn’t know the exact way you liked his fingers on your clit.

So you grinned at him, walked down the hall with your hands clasped coyly behind your back and you knew he was watching you, he always was. You could feel his eyes on you, a familiar burn that tickled your skin.

Eddie’s room was exactly like him, dark and warm, a little messy, littered with music posters, guitars on the walls, amps piled in the corner. His bed was unmade, pillows squint and sheets rumbled but they looked surprisingly fresh, the smell of laundry detergent, cologne and little smoke taking up space in the air.

You knew you’d asked for slow, for soft, for the boy to take his time with you. But suddenly you didn’t know what to do now you had Eddie all alone, all to yourself. Maybe for the whole night. The thought made you swallow hard and you were overcome, overwhelmed with how the boy was surrounding you without even touching you.

You never usually get Eddie for more than half an hour, a full sixty minutes at most, if you decided you could afford to be a little late for work that day. You never got to pull more than his belt off of him, jeans shucked down his thighs just enough for his cock to spring free. Likewise, you were confined to shirts and pulled up skirts, underwear hanging off one ankle or pushed to the side, Eddie’s fingers quick and concise against you.

So you huffed out a little laugh, nervous, but Eddie was smiling down at you and you liked the way the pulse in his neck jumped when you grabbed his hands and pushed him backwards to his bed. The backs of his knees hit the mattress and he let you nudge him down to sit, playing pretend with you, as if he couldn’t easily overpower you if he wanted.

He leaned back, weight spread on the palms of his hands as he looked up at you, silver chain and big, brown eyes shining in the low light that came through the crack of his closed curtains.

“What’re you up to, trouble?”

You shrugged, playing coy, lips twisted into a pretty smile you tried to hide but then your hands were toying with the buttons on your shirt, your cardigan long lost to the floor of Eddie’s van. But the boy was enraptured, gaze trained on the way your fingers were popping each button, trailing downdowndown, until the soft material hung open and your lilac bra was on show.

It wasn’t anything fancy, soft cotton triangles with ring straps and god, you knew for a fact that your light green underwear certainly didn’t match. But looking at Eddie, you had the realisation that he probably would care, no, not at all. ‘Cause his eyes were wide and his lips were parted, sitting the most still you’d ever seen him.

There wasn’t any music, just the quiet sounds of the town outside, the hum of a generator, the chirp of some birds nearby in a tear, the wind rushing softly over the metal roof. Eddie’s soft breathing, a little choked noise he caught in the back of his throat when you let your shirt slip off your shoulders, let it pool at your feet.

You toed off your shoes, eyes on Eddie’s the whole time and you wondered if this is what he imagined, what he thought about because all of sudden you were only in your skirt and bra and it was the most bare skin he’d seen on you.

Was your tummy too soft? Were your boobs too small? Did he see the scar on your bicep from when you fell over when you were five?

“Christ, you’re perfect,” he breathed out, eyes trailing over every inch of you. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

You flushed, cheeks and chest warm under his gaze but you didn’t stop, didn’t want to. Your fingers hooked into the band of your skirt, teased along the edges of it and you grinned when Eddie swore again, under his breath, hands fisting the comforter in a way that made your own breath hitch.

“Yeah?” you asked, blinking prettily, looking at the boy from under your lashes, fingers still slipped underneath the waist of your skirt. “Y’think so?”

You were playing up, you knew that, Eddie knew that. Neither of you cared though, because Eddie was grinning, nodding as he let out a low whistle.

“Prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.”

You lit up at his words, cheeks rosy, lip tucked between your teeth to hide your grin but Eddie was still smiling enough for both of you. You rewarded him by putting on a little show, body turned to the side so you could pop your ass out a little, arch your back real nice and slide your skirt down your hips all slow.

You didn’t let go of the material until you smoothed it down your thighs, letting it fall to the floor once it reached your knees and you were bent over for him. Nice and slow, you eased back up, almost scared to look at the boy who’d been hidden behind the mess of your hair as you eased your skirt off. But when you stood back up, pushed your hair back and pressed your thumb nervously to your lips, you saw how the boy looked a little wild.

A little wrecked.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Eddie breathed, sitting up to catch your hands in his, coaxing you to stand between his knees. He licked his lips, smoothed his palms over the dip in your waist and drew a line up your stomach with the tip of his nose. “Look at you.”

He certainly was, taking his time to gaze over every part of you, hands following suit, fingers trailing across the soft curve of your stomach, snapping the lace edge of your underwear against your hip. He pressed a kiss to your sternum, an open mouthed and lazy drag of his mouth over the swell of your breast.

“Y’wanna tell me what you want? Hmm?”

Your eyes fluttered closed at the feel of the boy so close, all this new bare skin for him to explore. His hands were so big, wide and warm and rough, scratching lovely at your waist, over the tops of your thighs, his mouth trailing down until his tongue licked at the edge of your underwear, flicking a little dirty at the cute little bow there.

“Eddie,” you didn’t mean to whine, not already. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, disappointingly still covered by his shirt but you felt a little unsteady, dizzy. “Told you what I wanted.”

You felt rather than saw his smile, pressed to your tummy and you let out a sharp gasp when his hands spun you, catching you when you turned, facing the other way so his nose was pressed to the curve of your spine.

You suddenly felt a lot more naked than before.

He tutted, close enough to you that you felt his lips move against you, his curls tickling the curve of your ass, his hands keeping you between his knees.

“Wanna hear it again, sweet thing,” a kiss, on the dimple of your lower back, another on the lace edge of your underwear. You squirmed. “That alright?”

You let out the breath you’d been holding, hands making fists by your sides and uncurling your hands again and again, at a loss with what to do with them because you’d never not been facing Eddie, tucked into his lap, able to watch him gasp and curse for you, fingers tangled in his hair.

He seemed to notice this, caught your hands in his own and soothed this thumb over your palms.

“This okay?” he asked you and the boy peered up to see your head tilted back, eyes closed, lips parted, chest heaving. You nodded and he smiled. “Yeah, baby? Lemme hear you?”

“Yeah, Eddie,” you murmured. “S’good.”

He rewarded you with a kiss to your hand, planted where his thumb was and then his mouth was trailing along your arm, lips pressed to the sensitive skin inside the crook of your elbow and he didn’t stop until his teeth were catching on the clasp of your bra.

He fingered the band, ghosted a touch over the metal hooks and you were gasping, nodding again so he didn’t have to ask permission and the flimsy fabric was soon joining the rest of your clothes on Eddie Munson’s bedroom floor.

Fuck.

“Pretty girl,” he cooed, “my sweet little thing, huh?”

Your heart stuttered over the possessive remark, your thighs rubbing together because you were still standing facing away from the boy and he wasn’t touching you where you wanted him to.

You couldn’t see what he was doing, couldn’t guess his next move and when you groaned and tried to spin back around, Eddie ah ah ah’d and gave your hip a little tap.

“You’ve not answered my question,” he tried to sound scolding, but he was sweet enough to kiss the spot he’d given you a little smack. “Gonna tell me what you want? Comin’ into my bedroom and givin’ me a little show? Then you can’t even tell me what you want me to do with you?”

He traced a line down your spine, tucked his index finger into the edge of your underwear, rings cold against your skin and he pulled the elastic back until it snapped back against you. You jumped, whimpered, pushed your ass further into his wide hands.

“C’mon now trouble, what did you tell me in the van, huh? You were so bossy then, what happened to that girl? Got you all fucked out already?” Eddie laughed, not meanly, but unkind enough to make your toes curl. “Hardly touched you, sweetheart, Christ.”

You loved and hated the way the boy could run his mouth, in and out of the bedroom. He could have you wet with just his mouth at your ear, spinning tales of exactly what he was going to do with you when he got you alone, sneaking away from your locker before anyone else had a chance to spot you both. Eddie was loud, brash, too confident, dramatic to boot. He was dirty, unashamed, hot with it, teasing.

You loved it.

But the boy couldn’t fucking handle it when you gave it back to him.

“Eddie.”

Another cooing noise, almost sympathetic, but you knew him better than that. “Yeah, baby?”

“Want you to take care of me,” your voice was sticky soft, sweet like honey, just as easy to get stuck in. “Can you do that? Please?”

You heard his breath hitch, a hard swallow, a wrecked sigh he tried to hide.

“Want you to take your time with me,” your hands found his, small on top of large, but you were the one taking control. You smoothed them up your hips, along the ridges of your ribs until both rough hands were cupping at your tits and you were lowering yourself into his lap. “Be nice to me, slow and sweet, baby.”

He was already hard against you, the length of him sitting stiff between your ass cheeks and you knew for a fact he’d been that way since the van. He’d admit it to you too, completely unashamedly letting you know the effect you had on him.

Eddie liked to take your hand in his, cup his hard dick through his jeans and whisper to you, asking you if you knew what you did to him.

So you stole his move, brought your joined hands to the heat of your lace covered cunt and leant back into his chest, his chin hooking over your shoulder so he could watch. His eyes were dark, almost black, hooded and staring through the line of his lashes.

“Fuck.”

You nodded as if you were agreeing with him, coaxing one of his fingers to draw a line up the length of your folds, gathering enough slick under the lace that it stuck to you, showing off every outline of you for Eddie to see.

“Eddie,” you couldn’t manage more than a whisper, but your lips found his ear under his messy curls easily, your head thrown back onto his shoulder. “Feel that? You’ve got me so wet.”

“Fucking, Christ, sweetheart.” He moaned, loud and wanting, his other hand grabbing a little roughly at your thigh, hooking it over his knee so he could spread you wider for him. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You pouted. “That’s no good to me.”

He huffed out a laugh, fingers kneading into the soft of your thigh as he kept you open for him. You let go of his other hand, happy to lay slack against him, propped up by his solid chest, arms holding you in as he touched and touched and touched.

“Like this?” He whispered, his finger tracing up and down, up and down through your folds, bumping against your clit on every pass. He was impossibly slow with it, gentle and soft, a maddening tease that had you pushing the tips of your toes into his carpet so you could try and chase the friction of his touch. “Slow like this, sweetheart?”

You nodded, eyes clenched shut, mewling and then his middle and index finger were swiping over your bottom lip, tapping until you opened.

“Suck,” he told you. “Good girl, hmm?”

If your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he didn’t see from the way he sat behind you. But you did as you were asked - no, told - laving your tongue under his fingers, enjoying the slight weight of them in your mouth, the cool silver of his rings at your lips, whining when he took them away from you, slicker than before.

But then his hand was down the front of your underwear and his fingers were sliding through you. You keened, squeaked at the sudden touch and tried to clamp your thighs around his wrist but Eddie was shushing you, soft noises in your ear as his other hand held your thigh, spreading you back open for him.

“Shh, shh, sweetheart,” Eddie quietened you, “y’okay? I’ve got you, can I touch you, baby? Yeah? Gonna squeeze that pretty cunt around my fingers?”

You were nodding frantically, hips thrust out to him in offering, desperate to feel a little more full than you were.

“Eddie, please.”

He was the same boy as always, running his mouth, talking to you dirty, hands knowing every inch of you. He was just slower with it, softer, like you’d asked. It turned him into something you’d never seen before, this quieter version of himself. Just as cocky, just as eager to please, but Jesus fucking Christ, his touch was making you dizzy and the way he was whispering to you all soft made you want to cry.

He was bordering on mean with it, a little condescending, hands petting at you to try and get you to settle.

“Baby, c’mon, sit nice,” he tsked, grinning at the way you were wriggling on his lap. If the grind of your ass against his hard dick was doing anything to him, he did well not to show it. “I know, I know, just a greedy little thing, aren’t you?”

And then his palm was running flat down the front of you, spreading your folds so the heel of his palm could grind against your clit as he slipped two fingers into you. It was all so easy with you wet you were, the slick sounds of your cunt almost as embarrassing as the ones falling from your mouth.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured low, lips against your ear. Your head was thrown back, laying against his shoulders and at his words, you cried out and pressed your face into his curls. You couldn’t do anything but let him fuck his fingers into you, a slow, wet drag in and out, in and out, in and out. “That’s it, sweet little thing, look at you.”

But then it wasn’t deep enough, it wasn’t fast enough and Eddie was still wearing far too many clothes, and suddenly, you were starting to regret everything you’d asked of the boy.

Your hands reached up, finding his curls, fingers twisting in the soft strands as your nails scratched against his scalp and you rugged, moaning for more.

Eddie stopped. Let go of your thigh and slid his hand out from your underwear, dragging wet and warmth up your tummy as he did so. You whined and you heard him laugh, a soft huff into your neck before he kissed your shoulder and patted your hip to make you stand up.

You climbed from his lap, a little unsteady on your feet because the maddening push and pull of his fingers had made you dizzy, white spots floating in your vision and you turned to him with a pout.

“Eddie, what the fu-”

But then he was pulling off his shirt, hands gripping the back of his collar to rip it over his head and it joined your clothes on his floor. He popped the button of his jeans but didn’t do much else, groaning slightly at the small relief it brought him as he palmed his hard cock through his boxers.

“On the bed, baby,” he nodded to the space beside him, a pile of pillows that probably smelled like him and when you let yourself crawl into them, you found out you were right. “Good girl.”

He laughed when your fingers curled into fists, an honest to god visceral reaction to his words.

Then he was moving over you, kneeling between your spread legs and crowding into you. It was a familiar sight, if not for the fact that you were horizontal this time. Nose to nose with the boy, lips within reach, big, brown eyes staring hotly back at you.

So you did what you always done, pushed your hands greedily into his hair and arched up to him, tugging a little when he didn’t comply and suddenly it felt like a fucking month had passed since Eddie had kissed you.

You whined, and you couldn’t deny you sounded like a brat. “Eddie!”

His hands wrapped around your wrists, gently pulling your fingers from his curls. He tutted, tried to look disappointed but he was hiding his smile by biting at his lip and then, fuck, he gathered both of your hands in one of his and pinned them to the pillow above your head.

“Sweetheart,” he cooed softly, “you said you wanted me to take my time with you.” He leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek, so close to where you wanted him. “Nice and slow, is that not what you said?”

You whimpered, turned your head to chase his lips with your own but he was pulling back just slightly. His hold on you was strong enough that you could pull away, couldn’t get close enough and the realisation made you moan out.

“C’mon pretty girl, that’s what you asked for, right? For me to take my time?” Another kiss, under the line of your jaw this time, his lips parted and wet and warm. “Can’t do that if you’re gonna yank at my hair, hmm? Like a dirty little thing? Can’t have that.”

A kiss again, anywhere but your lips, his mouth trailing over your throat, a sweet peck pressed to your chin. You wanted to cry, eyes glassy, overwhelmed at all the soft, lovely touches he was giving you, all whilst he had you pinned and pressed down underneath him.

“Baby,” Eddie tutted, eyes on yours, watching the way wetness brimmed at your lash line, threatening to spill over when you gave him a watery smile. “Baby, too much? Y’alright?”

You could feel the way his hand around your wrist let up, slackening just a little but you were crying out, a babble of noise that had him raising his brows and you were nodding furiously.

“M’good, Eddie, so good,” you could hardly catch a breath. What the fuck had he done to you? “Want this, want you.”

That seemed to appease him, his hand pushing yours back down into the pillows and he smiled, all lovely just for you, dimple showing. “Yeah? You do? Oh, good girl, what d’you want, huh?”

Another fucking kiss, the cutest little peck, right by the corner of your lips. He knew what you wanted, he was just being a dick about it.

“A kiss,” you huffed, shivering when his chest dragged across yours, the hang of his chain coke against your tits, a moan bubbling in your throat when he deliberately let it graze and catch against a peaked nipple.

“That’s all?” Eddie asked you, “better make it a good one for my girl then.”

His girl.

You didn’t have time to process that before he was on you, free hand curving around your jaw, thumb on your chin to tug at your mouth, licking into you almost immediately. It was like he’d went too long without it too, like not kissing you was the worst thing imaginable because it had been at least half an hour since he had his mouth on yours and well, that just wouldn’t fucking do.

He kissed you like he missed you, like someone was going to take you away from him, mouth and hands greedy on you, tongue curling around yours. His lips were always soft, so impossibly soft and every stroke of his tongue over yours made you whine, hands flexing in his hold because holy shit, you wanted to grab and scratch and pull at him for making you feel so damn good.

You were gasping against him when he pulled away, eyes still glassy, lips swollen and rosy and Eddie’s hand was getting greedy, trailing down your sides to hook into your underwear, pulling at them until they slid down your hips.

His nose nudged yours to grab your attention, unable to help himself when you pressed another, quick, sweet kiss to your still parted lips.

“You listening’ sweetheart?”

You nodded, blinking up at him.

“There’s my girl,” Eddie cooed, “good, ‘cause I need you to keep your hands up here for me, ‘kay?”

You whined, ready to argue back but then Eddie was pulling off lace from around your ankles and kissing his way down your naked body, hands bracketing your hips, curls tickling your stomach.

You clenched down on nothing.

He was eye level with your cunt, eyes shining, lips smirking as he pushed at your thighs, spreading you out in front of him, grinning when you wiggled against his palms.

“Nuhuh,” he told you, “let me see you, yeah?”

He’d never done this before, was never able to, with the logistics of a quickie in the front of his van. Sure, you’d gone down on him before, a much easier task over the console, his dick heavy on the flat of your tongue and Eddie always promised you that next time, he’d return the favour, get you spread out in back but, well.

Next time would come and you’d be too pent up and he’d be too impatient and before you both knew it you’d be sinking down on his cock in the driver's seat of the van, bouncing up and down whilst Eddie could only watch, fucked out in minutes at the sight of you.

So this? Eddie blowing warm air over your already hot cunt? This was new.

“So pretty,” he told you, voice awed. “Can I taste you baby? Would you like that?”

You couldn’t do anything but whimper, moans catching in your throat until they came out like needy little gasps and it took everything you had to follow Eddie’s orders and keep your hands to yourself. You fisted them in his pillow, gripped on tight because his lips were ghosting over your folds, butterfly kisses pressed to the outside of you, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips like he couldn’t help himself.

“Don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he groaned, hips rutting into the bed as he palmed at your ass, tugging you down the bed so he could settle himself closer to you. “Could just eat you up, pretty girl.”

His tongue was swiping through you before you could answer, before you could beg. And despite the way he was grinding himself down into the bed, Eddie took his time with you, licked through your folds real slow with the flat of his tongue, pushing the soft of it over your clit at the end.

He kept you spread wide, hands on the inside of your thighs, fingers splayed over you, thumbs pulling gently at your folds so he could push you open for him. His nose hit your clit when his tongue dipped inside of you, and fucking hell, Eddie was moaning almost as loud as you were, his lips wet with you, getting himself messy as he sucked and kissed his way across your cunt.

“Can’t get enough of you,” the boy groaned into your thigh, kissing the soft skin there too, a reminder of how fucking sweet he was. “Christ, sweetheart, look at you, so pretty, all fucked out, huh? Look at those eyes, fucking hell.”

He was babbling, talking sweet in between licks, dirty flicks of his tongue that had your stomach clenching, your chest heaving. You were pushed onto your elbows to watch, a move that Eddie had given you in trouble for because your hands were still twisted in his sheets, kept to yourself.

Your eyes were glassy, tears pooling at the corners, kissing your lashes that couldn’t stop fluttering at every kiss he gave you clit, every soft suck. You were sure you looked a mess, wrecked, ruined. Hair a riot, cheeks blooming with heat, lips still swollen and slick from his kisses and when Eddie slid one finger, two fingers back inside of you, you fell back with a wail.

You were close, so close already, the thickness of his digits dragging in and out of your cunt was enough to throw you onto the edge but then the boy smiled against your stomach and dipped his head back down. His lips wrapped around your clit and suckled, soft and gentle, enough to keep you hanging.

“Can feel you,” Eddie whispered, placing soft, quick kisses around your folds, across your tummy, one on your hip bone, followed by a scrape of his teeth. “Can feel you gettin’ tight around me, sweetheart. S’fucking hot, so fuckin’ hot.”

The boy sounded as wrecked as you felt, his voice shot, lips slick with you as you looked back down the length of your stretched out frame, eyes rolling at the sight of him between your thighs. He was watching you, brown eyes dark and hooded as he held your gaze and licked back over your clit.

“Oh, fucking hell,” you moaned, “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie-”

“That’s it baby,” he encouraged, wrist twisting, fingers moving in and out of you a little faster. His rings weren’t cold anymore, but you could feel the hard nudge of them against your cunt, the feeling making you clench down. “Christ, that’s it, yeah, you gonna come for me?”

You couldn’t help it, not anymore.

You grabbed at Eddie’s hair as your back arched, pushing your hips further into him, his fingers reaching places inside of you that had you seeing fucking stars. You tugged at his curls, unable to stop yourself but Eddie groaned at your toughness, letting you pull him into you, his hips rutting against the bed as he hooked his digits up and rubbed, tongue circling around your clit relentlessly at the same time.

You broke, shattered, fell apart, cried out. Your eyes clenched shut, your body curling in on itself as you clamped your thighs around Eddie’s poor head, his mouth still sucking and kissing over you as you came.

And then you were whimpering, patting at the mess of curls you’d created on his head, trying to shimmy away from the overstimulation and Eddie took pity, dragging himself up your bottom, laying kisses on your damp skin as he went.

He was grinning when he reached your face, kissing your neck to let you catch your breath, looking entirely proud of himself. You shined at the drag of his denim jeans over the inside of your thighs, laughed weakly when Eddie snorted at your shivers.

Then he was pushing himself up on his elbows to hover over you, a palm smoothing back the hair that was clinging to your forehead. He looked down at you with eyes that were shining, so full of affection and fondness and something that it made your heart ache, made fresh tears spring to the corners of your eyes again and you huffed out a watery sigh.

“That good, huh?“ Eddie asked smugly, smiling when you nodded, still a little dazed. He thumbed at your mouth, squished at the soft of your cheeks with his fingers and rubbed his nose against yours. “Gimme a kiss, sweetheart.“

You obliged happily, humming a pretty sound against his lips when Eddie kissed you soft and sweet, his mouth a gentle slide over your own.

“Love your little noises,” he whispered, kissing you between words. “Sound so fucking cute when you’re coming for me.”

Your body burned at his words, another ache creeping across your cunt and despite the way he’d made you fall apart, you wanted nothing more than Eddie to be buried to the hilt inside of you.

“Eds,” you whispered, hand palming at the front of his jeans, groaning when you felt him straining against the denim, the hardest he’d ever been. “Let me help you.”

But he took your hand in his, kissed your palm before you could feel the sting of rejection and he was crowding you back into his pillows, curls falling in a curtain on either sideed of you, lips back on your neck.

“Give yourself a second, sweetheart,” he mumbled. “You said it yourself, I’ve got you all night.”

PART TWO

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fic

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mochinomnoms · 3 months

Text

The Private (not) Thoughts of a Moray Chapter 4: This thing called love, I just can’t handle it

Gender Neutral Reader x Jade Leech

Chapter 4 preview:

Jade! I’m so happy to see you! You look wonderful today. I mean you always look wonderful, so handsome! Oh, you look so cool as a human, not that you don’t look cool as an eelmer, but you’re always so cool and handsome and I just love you so much! I love, love, lovelovelovelove— Oh… Jade (unfortunately) was looking back at you, thoughts of affection ramming through his head. Darling! You’re so cute! You look so ethereal under the lights of Octavinelle, the blue reflects wonderfully in your eyes. You always look so angelic, though, but especially now that the color of the sea can act as a scenic environment for your presence. Oh, I love you~ I love you, I love you, I love you— Between the two’s thoughts fighting for space in your cramped mind, and you’re pretty sure you could feel a migraine coming on.

[wc} - 8,150

[notes] - *crab raves* finally, struggled with it but it's out. i got done kinda setting up the characters and their dynamics so chapters should have an easier time getting out

back to chapter list

Chapter 4: This thing called love? I just can’t handle it

The liquid in your cat shaped mug (courtesy of Cater) slowly turned from a light purple back to a soft creamy brown as a few drops from your small vial of mauve liquid dripped into your drink.

One, two, and that’s three drops for me and for Grim…

Placing the vial back in your pocket, you set Grim’s own morning drink, a small cup of hot cocoa with the tiniest of marshmallows, to the side. The barely rising sun indicated it was just before 6 in the morning, so Grim, and most of the dorm was still asleep.

You settled in on the nook of the windowsill facing the entrance of the dorm. From here, you could see the Hall of Mirrors, Sam’s shop, and the alchemy building.

A loud yawn startled you as James entered the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and blinking at you owlishly.

“Good morning James.” You said softly, waving. James mumbled what you assume was a ‘good morn’ back as he opened

Frustrated grunts and growls emanated from James as he wrestled the, evidently well sealed, package of cereal. You think it was this world’s version of Captain Crunch, the image of a well-dressed pirate in red with a gleaming hook and mischievous grin staring back at you across the kitchen table.

“Damn this—why do they make these things so hard to open!?” James hissed, throwing the colorful cardboard box across the room, nearly hitting a sleepy Tony in the face.

“Ack! Ayo?” Tony rapidly looked back and forth between the offending material and James, who was now yanking at the plastic bag of cereal with his teeth. Growling, he used his canines to rip the bag apart so that he could finally have a core part of a valuable, healthy breakfast.

He was failing miserably.

“Can you watch it? I’m walkin’ here—are you fightin’ a bag of cereal?” Tony asked incredulously.

Taking a pause, James looked up, bag still in mouth, and gave a muffled “Yesh.”

“…and losin’?”

“…” Flushing, James let go of the bag and responded, “It’s my favorite.”

He yelped as one of the other freshmen walked past him and flicked his forehead.

“Hey, what gives Yakub?”

Yabuk, one of the Scarabia students in your care, shoved James aside with his broad shoulders and tall frame, as he began to take out items from the small pantry in the corner. You weren’t sure what Yabuk was, you think either a beastman or fae based on the slight point in his ears and the way his bright red hair was ever so slightly feathery.

In fact, you're pretty sure that it was actually feathers, the plumy hairline starting from the peak between his eyebrows and turning into a prominent widow’s peak. His hair, which was undercut and slicked up like a parrot, was quite striking against his dark brown skin and sharp yellow eyes.

Framing his narrow face were a pair of red macaw feather earrings, which you think might’ve been plucked from his own head, as the blue and green ombre matched that on the tips of his hair/feathers.

Yabuk sighed, deciding to turn and address James, who was back to gnawing at the bag.

“How about this, how about you fight the rest of the cereal by yourself, and I’ll courageously make pancakes for those of us who want a little warmth in our mornings.”

James sneered at him, deciding that the best course of action was to vigorously shake his head in order to tear the bag open. He succeeded, after the bag split down the middle and spilled half of the yellow, red, and blue contents on the floors, where it would no doubt be vacuumed by the never-ending ravenous Grim.

You lifted a hand to cover your mouth in an effort to hide the fact that you were seconds away from laughing your head off.

…Uwwwah.

James dejectedly poured himself a bowl of cereal, careful to not spill the rest of it. Deciding to be helpful, you walked over from your nook in the corner, surprised no one had yet noticed you.

“Here, I’ll get the broom—”

“GWAH!” James shrieked at your “sudden” appearance. You wonder if it was just early morning fatigue that made him forget you were there, or if he genuinely didn’t process you sitting at the windowsill.

“H-housewarden—I mean Prefect—I mean Y/N—” The poor man yelped as he knocked his bowl off the counter with his elbow.

OH SHIT—

Yabuk, also squawking in surprise, managed to catch the bowl before it fell on the ground, wincing at the cold milk dripping down the slides onto his hand.

“Hah—got it.” Clearing his throat, Yabuk gave you a nod. “Good morning, Housewarden Y/N, would you like a pancake?”

You too had been reaching for the bowl, bent over in an awkward position between Yabuk and James (who was internally screeching at the proximity between you two).

“Ah, it’s fine, thank you, Yabuk.” You stood back, slightly puffing your chest out as you stretched your back, sighing in relief at your upper spine popping.

“I have to go in here soon anyways, I’ll be out of the dorm for most of today.”

Tony, who had poured himself a cup of coffee from the still warm pot you’d brewed earlier, piped up, “Oh yeah, ain’t we ‘upposed ta be going over to Octavinelle in halfa-hour?”

You winced and nodded. “Yep…that’s right.”

Going over to the dragon’s lair. Or would it be the eel’s lair? Octopus’s lair technically…

“Ah yes! I’ve been ready to head back to our actual dorm for sometime now!” You jumped, noticing that Aspen had been watching your interaction from the doorway for who knows how long.

Aspen gave a closed mouth smile, tilting his head. Can’t even be bothered to wake up early in the morning? Pathetic.

You raised your brow at that, deciding to return his smile with a polite one of your own as you greeted him, “Good morning Aspen, yes I’m aware—”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t keep us waiting, Prefect.” You didn’t miss the way he nearly hissed your nickname as he walked over to Tony and swiped his cup.

“Hey! That was mine—”

“Ah, well, I’m sure you didn’t mean to do so on purpose.” Ignoring Tony’s grabby hands, he continued, “After all, being a magicless human for so long, and just becoming a housewarden so recently, I’m sure you’re still trying to manage everything.”

He made a face as he sipped from the cup, disgusted, most likely from the quality of your 2 thaumark grounds from Sam’s. Aspen decided to hand back the coffee to a pouting Tony, who was giving his friend the side-eye.

“I have to wait on you anyways,” He sighed, turning around to head to the common area. “I’ll be in the living room, once you’re ready!”

He ended his sentence in a sing-songy tone, waving over his shoulder. You sighed, the 9 hours of sleep slipping away into exhaustion rather than rest, as you finished your now cooled coffee in just a few gulps.

Myah! What’s this guy’s problem? Did someone steal his tuna? I bet it was Wynfred. Definitely Wynfred.

Grim trotted on all fours to you, using the island barstool as leverage to jump onto your shoulder and affectionately smash his cheek into yours.

“Mornin’ Henchman! Why did you leave the bed so early?” Grim pouted, hanging off of your shoulder as he winced at the sight of the hot cocoa you’d prepared.

Mrrah, I don’t like the lavender taste! Grim grumbled in his head, taking the small mug with his paws and downing the now lukewarm drink like a child with a cup of bitter cough syrup. Next time, I get to choose the taste, sashimi-flavored, hehe!

You sighed, grimacing at the thought of a tuna flavored coffee syrup, “We gotta go to meet with Azul, remember?”

“Nooo!” Grim whined, fiddling with his mug. You tsked as cocoa spilled over. “I still don’t trust that shifty octopus, I still have nightmares of waking up with an anemone on my head again.”

Grim was still whining as he finished off the cocoa at your insistence. You yourself also finished your drink, placing both cups in the sink. A Heartslabyul student rushed over to clean them for you, muttering something about Riddle warning them to be helpful.

Please tell him I’m good, I don’t want to get collared my first week like that freshman last year.

You withheld a snort, biting the inside of your cheek instead. You leaned down to whisper, “Thanks, I’ll tell Riddle that you’re doing a good job.” to the student, smiling at his beaming face.

“Grim, let’s surprise everyone with our dorm uniforms today!” Grim whooped and jumped back down from your shoulder to climb up the stairs. He’d been so excited that you two had gotten proper uniforms, as he claimed that it was time everyone started taking him seriously as a mage.

Once again, the ghosts had taken liberty to create your dorm uniform. Eliza had given them some of her old dresses from when she was alive as an apology for taking over your dorm. They’d decided to take those, as well as some of their own clothes to get you all dressed up. Your dorm uniform was relatively simple, compared to the other’s, but was comfortable.

They’d given you two versions, noticing your affinity for both skirts and pants. Your top was made with a striped cream button-up blouse adorned with a silver collar chain sporting two mauve crystal ball pins. The top was accompanied by a dark blue cloak, reminiscent of the ghosts’ own capes. Of the two outfit variants, they had managed to find a dark gray and blue, front corset dress from Eliza’s collection. She had suggested to Bernard that you wear it over the blouse along with dark tights and her old, brown chunky-sole loafer shoes with the dress.

The other outfit was recommended by Albert, who claimed he was rather fashionable while alive (Earnest gawked at that, so you’re not sure how true that claim was). This one had a vest, the same color as the cloak, with dark gray, high-waisted pants decorated with silver buttons along the waistband and pockets. You wore the same shoes as with the previous outfit, as they were in surprisingly good condition despite their age.

Eliza must have taken really good care of her stuff before and after she passed. I hope she and Puffy are happily married in the afterlife. Maybe they’ll visit again…without the whole suitor stuff, though.

You hummed as you decided to put on the dress version of the outfit. It was obvious that the clothes were older, time and dust took a toll on them, but you had to admit it was nice having a dorm uniform. Plus, the age of your clothes matched the appearance of a now fixed, but still full of character Ramshackle. Like an old Victorian ghost still trapped in their home.

“Henchhuman! Help me with this cloak thing!” Grim was grumbling as he had trouble tying the bow of his own mini-cloak. He really looked like a mini-version of the ghosts, he just needed a hat!

“Coming, coming!” You crouched down to help him, humming. “There we go. You look great, Grim!”

Hmph! Of course, I do! You don’t look bad yourself, henchhuman.

Grim grinned as he jumped up to your shoulder, watching as you grabbed the hair pin with the Ramshackle crest and clipped your hair back.

“We look like the real deal! Finally, gonna get some respect here, mehehe!”

You and Grim shared a soft laugh as you pressed your foreheads together. The two of you rushed down the stairs, Grim gripping your shoulder so as to not fall off. Aspen and Tony were dressed in their school uniforms. Though, you noticed, Tony’s uniform was more hastily put together, vest and jacket unbuttoned and the tie messily put together.

Aspen, who was prim and properly dressed, fussed over Tony’s appearance before noticing you and slamming his hands back to his sides.

“Hello Prefect, took your time to look nice I see” Trying to impress? I still don’t see the appeal. “May we leave now? I’d like to actually be on time.”

Tony shoved an elbow into Aspen’s stomach, the latter smacking the former’s arm in retaliation as they shared a look.

“Um, yeah. Follow me.” You gestured as you passed by Wynfred by the front door, who was currently trying to yank something out of Silas’s hands.

“Give that to me—Oh! Prefect!” Wynfred happily greeted you as he managed to take the item from Silas’s hands and shove it in his pocket. “Off to Octavinelle? Will you be coming back for us Pomefiore students?”

You nodded and replied, “Yes, but probably in the evening since I’ll have to do Scarabia and Heartslabyul first. Grim and I will both be out all day…”

Humming, you narrowed your eyes at Wynfred and listened to his thoughts.

How nice, my club meeting was canceled today, so I’m bored. Maybe I’ll just watch everyone and see what they get up to.

“Hmm, hey Wynfred?” The redhead perked at the mention of his name.

“Yes?”

“Can you do me a favor? Watch over Ramshackle and make sure no one gets into any trouble or anything like that. I have a chore board for tasks that Grim and I normally do around the dorm and school, but…”

You gestured to Aspen and Tony, the former looking and thinking about the inconvenience of stopping.

“Well, we’re pretty busy now, so it would be a great help if—oh!”

Wynfred grabbed onto your hands, eyes dazzling and shimmering with glee. He yanked you close to him until your noses were nearly pressing together as he started yammering.

“Of course I’ll be in charge! Oh, I’m so flattered that you’d ask me of that. You know I’m an exceptional leader of my coven, and I was back home as well, so you can depend on me! I’ll make sure everything is in tip-top shape, don't worry bout a thing! Off you go now!”

Wynfred gently pushed you out the front door, Aspen and Tony following, as he turned to start calling out to the remaining freshmen.

“Alright! Housewarden Y/N put me in charge, so listen up!”

Geez, I hope this isn’t going to bite me in the butt later.

The walk to the mirrors was short and quiet, on your end at least. A few steps behind you, Aspen and Tony trailed along, softly conversing between themselves. Based on their thoughts, you think they were arguing about something, or someone.

Gah! You’re more jealous than the nereids!

Tony’s voice rang through your head as you turned your head to look back at the duo, who was now muttering angrily at Aspen. The latter looked almost pouty, looking at the ground as he hissed back something to his friend. The image was actually pretty funny, with the near 1-foot difference between them, Aspen had to lean down fairly drastically to whisper with Tony.

Gods, you’re so annoying, like a suckerfish, just take my side!

Tony, on the other hand, craned his neck up to reach Aspen’s ear, and kept darting his head into his friend’s eyesight every time Aspen looked away to pout further.

Blah, blah, blah, jealous my ass, maybe I just don’t like them!

“It’s too early for them to be this loud, henchhuman! Make them stop!” Grim whined from his place in your arms, glaring at the pair over your shoulders. You cradled him as he sleepily rested his little chin on the crook of your neck.

“Let them be, they’re not that loud, be honest.” as you said that, you decided to turn your head to look back at the freshmen.

Aspen locked eyes with you as he looked up at the same time you did, narrowing them as you turned back forward. You could still feel his stare burn into your back as the four of you turned the corner to the Hall of Mirrors.

YOU! You’re nothing special, just a stupid human. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you, IhateyouIhateyouIhateyouIhatehatehatehatehatehate—

You abruptly turned around as you arrived in front of the Octavinelle mirror, disrupting Aspen’s little chant of loathing, to address the pair.

“Before we enter, a few things!” You smiled at the pair, listing out your tasks with your free hand as you spoke.

“First, I need to meet with Azul myself to work out the schedule for you and your two other dormmates. I believe you’ll get fitted into your dorm uniforms with your vice while I do. Second, you’ll get trained for the working lounge while I go meet with Heartslaybul’s housewarden-”

Grim jumped from your arms to place his paws on his hips and continue your sentence confidently.

“The Great Grim will come get you after your training since my henchhuman will have to move on immediately to the other dorms, so you better do what I say-”

“Wait, is the cat actually our vice housewarden?” Tony asked with a deadpan expression. “I thought that was a joke.”

“Hey! How dare you mock the greatest mage of all time? Bow down and beg for forgiveness—mmpphh!”

You quickly snatched Grim up and covered his mouth as you gave a tight smile.

“Third, once you're back at the dorm, please make sure the Heartslabyul students all leave with Grim, and let the Scarabia students know that they’ll be next. Afterward, you can do what you want as long as you're back to the Ramshackle lounge by 5:30! Any questions?”

You could see the metaphorical roll of Aspen’s eyes as he thought, No-

“Yeah!” Tony raised his hand up, akin to an eager kindergartener in his favorite class, as he asked, “Is Jade gonna be meetin’ us at the Mostro Lounge or somethin’? He’s usually off hikin’ in the mornin’.”

Yep, just as I intended. Thank god he’s consistent at least, same as last year.

You let out a sigh of relief at that, making Aspen and Tony share a look. Though, they seemed to think your sigh was for a different reason.

Hmpf. “Disappointed, are we?” Aspen grumbled, hissing as Tony jabbed an elbow in his ribs in response.

Tony chuckled, “Aw, don’t worry Prefect, don’t be sad, I’m sure he’ll be back soon! You can say hi to him then!” Ain’t that cute, Jade sure knows how to pick ‘em.

“W-what?” You furrowed your brows in confusion, noting that both of their faces matched your expression. Your grasp on Grim’s squirming body had weakened enough for him to slip out and climb up your arm to sit on your shoulder.

“Why would they be disappointed?” Grim questioned, “Jade’s too scary for my henchhuman to be hanging around!”

“Grim! Be nice! No, it’s not that, I just hardly know him.” you hurriedly clarified as Aspen’s face turned to one of elation and Tony’s of disbelief.

Thank. The. Fucking. Sea Witch.

No fucking way?!

“Whaddya mean ya hardly know him? All summer, he’s been-ow!” Tony yelped as Aspen pinched his side, glaring at him as he instead turned to give you a smile.

“What he means to say is: you’ve been a hot topic all summer, Jade speaks…highly,” Aspen’s face soured as he said that. “Of you, so we assumed you were rather close, is that not the case?”

Grim snorted as his thoughts spoke to you. Yeah, I bet he wished he was reeeeal close to ya, huh Y/N?

You let out a nervous laugh as you stammered out, “No, uh, we’re not close at all. Now come on.”

Gesturing to the pair to follow you into the mirror, your vision was blinded by the light of the mirror. Its lavender shimmering morphed into the underwater dorm, a bubble developing around your small group once you’d made it far enough in. The tranquil ocean that Octavinelle resided in never ceased to enchant you, with the soft bluish gray seabed and the light purple reefs, not to mention the clear glass walls of the actual dorm building itself, built right into the lavender reefs.

Despite it being so early in the morning, you could see a numerous number of students running through the halls of the dormitory from the aquarium walls. Peeking behind you, you smiled at Aspen and Tony’s faces of delight, the latter pressing against the bubble until his face was smooshed against it, grinning like a madman.

“Yooooo, this looks sick! Aspy, look at all the reefs!”

“Aspy?” Grim asked while you hid your smile behind your hand. Aspen’s cheeks turned a light purple as he kicked the back of Tony’s knee.

I thought I told him not to call me that here!

“It’s a childhood nickname…” Aspen trailed off, his eyes lighting up as the Mostro Lounge entrance came into view. “Woah…it really is in the skeleton of an ancient whale.”

You tilted your head at the two as you asked, “Is this your first time in your dorm? You guys didn’t get to see it after orientation?”

Tony shook his head. “Nah, when we found that we’re crowded, we’re sent over to ya right awayyyYYYEEH-”

The bubble, once past the magical barrier separating the water from the café entrance, popped, causing you, Grim, and Aspen to land on your feet just fine, if a bit unbalanced. Tony, who’d been leaning down farther and farther against the bubble, fell face-first into the ground.

Aspen chuckled in response, looking back at you with pursed lips. So if you hardly know him…then why…

“So back to what I was saying earlier…what’s the nature of your relationship to Azul and the twins then? They, Jade especially, spoke of you quite often.”

The thought of a love struck Jade talking off Floyd and Azul’s ears all summer with the same level of intensity that his thoughts betrayed made a strange feeling pit in your stomach.

Ugh, maybe I’m getting sick. I think…

“Like what Grim was saying, I don’t really know Jade outside of class or even Floyd. Actually, I’m closer to Azul though…we’ve been through…a lot together last year. Plus, we hung out over the summer!”

Aspen nodded, grunting as Tony used his arm to yank himself back up.

“Right…you and the other overblot students had to meet with Crowley, right?”

You perked up in surprise, as did Grim, who whipped his head around to Aspen and growled.

“Some random freshman ain’t supposed to know that. Have you been snoopin’ around? I’ll cast a whole spell of hurt at cha if ya have!”

“Grim!” You growled, gaze strict, at your familiar as the fire in his ears grew in his growing ire. “Behave yourself. He's right, though, Aspen? Please explain.”

Aspen tensed while Tony abruptly explained, “Our families are…tight-knit! They all do business—”

“Heh, you mean ‘business’?” Grim air-quoted as he scoffed.

“We do business together. When the headmaster told his parents, they told ours, so we learned pretty soon after it happened.”

Aspen, quick to agree, nodded along. “Yes! We all…grew up together?”

You squint your eyes at the pair, hoping that your, admittedly halfhearted, glare would provoke one of them to either blurt out a further explanation, or their thoughts would betray something.

Instead, a synchronized screech was echoing through both of their heads. You took a long, deep breath, and sighed heavily.

“I’ll ask your housewarden about it later instead, how about that?” With a cheeky smile, you turned back around briskly walking to the host stand of the Mostro Lounge as Aspen and Tony quickly followed after, resuming their earlier bickering.

Looking over your shoulder, you smiled again, softer this time, at the two. The way they bantered, brushed and shoved each other with their shoulders, reminded you of your own favorite duo.

I’ll have to make sure I say hi to my boys before I see Riddle.

Aspen eyes met yours, widening slightly as a soft lilac blush formed on his cheeks. He looked to the side instead, huffing in his head.

What are you smiling at, stupid human. Turn back around and…huh?

Still smiling, you turned to see what had taken Aspen’s attention, before running face-first into someone’s chest. You and the very tall stranger tumbled a bit before they grabbed your shoulders to help steady you, grasping you gently like you were a precious stone.

“Oof! Sorry, I—”

“It’s quite alright, Prefect.” My pearl~ “Perhaps you should pay more attention, you might bump into someone less savory, fuhuhu!”

“EEK!” You rapidly jumped back, Grim falling off your shoulder with an ‘oomph’ as your back smacked into Aspen and Tony. “Jade! I thought you were hiking! You usually do on Saturdays.”

Jade, his tall frame now in full view, smiled as he leaned down to tower over you. “Oh? I hadn’t realized that you’ve memorized my schedule.”

Aaaah! Did you want to make sure we’d bump into each other, too? My sweet, you can ask for my time any day of the week!

“NO!” The volume of your yelp made everyone jump as you turned a deep pink. You laughed nervously, waving your hands rapidly.

“Ahaha! No, I just remember from last year that you’d be out by the woods near Ramshackle! I figured you’d keep up the same routine.”

Oh, of course. Still, I’m so happy they remember, my darling pearl! I love you~

“I see,” Jade closed his eyes as he continued smiling, chuckling, “I usually would, but today I decided to make an exception.”

You heard Tony mumble under his breath, “Gee, wonder why.” Aspen shoved an elbow into Tony’s ribs, shushing at his friend before smiling shyly at Jade, a small lilac blush on his cheeks.

“Hi Jade,” Aspen waved, voice soft and almost meek.

Oh…

“Hello Aspen. Tony. It’s wonderful to see you again so soon,” Jade’s attention shifted to the two momentarily. “It’s like we never left home.”

He (unfortunately) was looking back at you, thoughts of affection ramming through his head.

Darling! You’re so cute! You look so ethereal under the lights of Octavinelle, the blue reflects wonderfully in your eyes. You always look so angelic, though, but especially now that the color of the sea can act as a scenic environment for your presence. Oh, I love you~ I love you, I love you, I love you—

Between the two’s thoughts fighting for space in your cramped mind, and you’re pretty sure you could feel a migraine coming on.

“Ugh, my head.” You rubbed your temples as Grim climbed back up on your shoulders, hanging himself off you.

“Ya good, Prefect?” Tony asked. His voice sounded concerned.

“Yeah, um, are you going to be training the two while I meet with Azul?”

Jade’s smile grew as he leaned down, just slightly, to meet your eyes.

“Floyd will be training them, and you’ll be meeting with me instead.”

What! Nooooo! Not Floyd, he still pinches my cheeks…

Aspen seemed upset, both internally and visibly, as his face soured. Tony, on the other hand, brightened and pumped his fist.

“Yes! Floyd, my boy!”

Jade chuckled and reached over to ruffle Tony’s head. “Do try and stay out of trouble, for poor Aspen’s sake. I’ll be too busy with our dear Prefect to keep an eye on the three of you.”

“Oh, yes.” Aspen drawled, “Our ‘dear Prefect’ will need all the assistance they can get. Did you know, they didn’t even realize that they had to sign off on their students’ club registrations? Our paperwork was barely submitted to the guidance mage yesterday!”

Hmph, I still don’t see the appeal in them. They’re such a clumsy human. Barely a housewarden. You can do so much better, Jade!

Ooooooh. That makes more sense now…wait, NO.

“Are you sure that I’m not meeting with Azul?” You laughed nervously, the panic setting in. “I double-checked with him yesterday, he said that we were still set!”

“Something came up.” Jade explained. The image of Azul’s bedroom door with a broken lock, door shaking as Azul’s muffled voice shouted through the wooden door, entered your brain.

You raised a brow and slowly replied, “Oh. Should we go check, or?”

“Nope. If you’ll please follow me, I will drop off our newest employees with Floyd.” Jade turned, looking over his shoulder. “You and I will have our meeting in the VIP Room.”

Alone~

You cringed, a shiver going up your spine as you gave Jade a tight smile, gritting out, “Greeeeat. Cool. That’s fine. Yep.”

Jade is either oblivious or maliciously ignorant to your distress as he guides the small group to the dining room. As you approached, you could hear the bickering of familiar voices, one angrier than the others.

Near the bar was an irate Azul, arguing with a bored looking Floyd. Based on what you could hear, Azul was asking Floyd about why his bedroom lock was jerry-rigged to lock him instead.

“IDK Azul, I didn’t do it, wasn’t feeling up to anything like that today.” Floyd whined, flopping his head around before looking over to your group’s direction. He perked up as he noticed you, more specifically, noticed Tony.

“HEY! TONY!”

“HEY! FLOYD!”

Tony ran up to the taller man, dodging his attempts to grab him and ruffle his hair. The two played a small game of chase as Azul came up to you with a pleasant smile.

“Y/N! Welcome back, I see you’ve taken on the role of housewarden quite well.” Azul nodded his head at you in greeting, directing his gaze to a stiff Aspen as he continued, “None of my students are giving you any trouble, I hope?”

You had the theory that his question wasn’t really for you, as he eyed Aspen up and down. His thoughts confirmed it, though.

Aspy, you better have not been a pain, I know how you can be.

Said individual was pointedly staring at one of the aquarium walls, pretending to be enthralled with the reefs and fish.

Why do you even care, it’s not like they’re an actual mage. Just, stop staring… Please…

“Yeah, they’ve all been great, don’t worry about it.” You answered, smiling as you noticed the freshman relax.

Yeah, I’ve been great! Hmph! Take that Zully!

Zully? Huh.

Azul smiled back, shifting his weight on his cane. “Good, I’m glad to hear. I apologize for not coming to greet you myself, it seems that someone—”

He directed a glare to Jade, who was still standing next to you with a small smile.

“—tried to lock me in my room, you wouldn’t happen to know who that was, would you Jade?”

“No, I can’t imagine who would do such a thing.” Damn, I should’ve added a spell too. I was in a rush to get to them first. “Would you like me to investigate?”

“WoULd yOu LiKE mE TO INvesTIgATe” Oh shut up Jade, I bet it was you.

“Yes please, that would be quite helpful, thank you, Jade.” Azul gestured for you to follow him. “Shall we?”

“Oh, we’re meeting, right cool, yes!” You sighed in relief as you rushed away from Jade to Azul’s side. “Just us right?”

“Us and Jade.” You screamed internally. “He’s in charge of the schedules, training, and position placements, so he’ll have to be involved.”

Aaah, at least we’ll be together in the same room again. I wonder if you’ll get flustered if I sit too close? Maybe I can get Azul to step out so we can be on our own…

Jade tapped you against Azul’s desk, hands reaching down to caress your thighs, before trailing down and making you wrap your legs around his waist. Your dress was unlaced and shirt unbuttoned to reveal your chest and neck, covered in hickies and bite marks. Your hands were running through Jade’s hair tenderly, holding him close as you shared a deep kiss. “Mmm~ Jade! Hurry, we’re gonna get caught if we—AH!” You yelped as Jade reached under your dress to tear a hole into your tights for easier access. Jade shushed you with another kiss, swallowing a loud moan as his hand worked you. “We’ll get caught if you don’t stay quiet, unless you want to get caught~ Is that what you want? For everyone to know that you’re mine? For everyone to know that the one making you cry out in pleasure is me?”

Your face was rapidly turning red as you tripped over your feet, stumbling as Azul and Jade both reached out to catch you. Instead, you straightened and rushed out of their grasp, looking at Grim with a strained smile.

It’s just for a bit. You can deal with Jade for a bit.

“Okay! Grim, please go take care of the Scarabia students, and tell Kalim and Jamil I said hi. I’ll see you later!”

Hmm? Oh yeah. “Got it! Hehe, I got a whole group of henchhumans to be in charge of now!”

Grim ran off, happy and in blissful ignorance, as you turned to address Azul, “I just remembered, I will have to go to Diasomnia today as well, so I can’t stay for long.”

Azul raised a brow, humming, “Is that so? I thought you didn’t have any Diasomnia students on your roster.”

“They don’t.” Jade answered, fond thoughts bouncing around his brain as he watched you walk.

“I believe they should only have ours, Heartslabyul, and Pomefiore’s freshmen. I’m surprised that you also have Scarabia students, Prefect.”

Are you stressed? Are all the students too much? I can help! Ask me for help and I’ll make sure you’re never bothered by your freshmen again!

You huffed at the suggestion, replying, “Jamil let them take residence with me to have a bit of extra space, since they were getting close to being overcrowded. Silver didn’t want to burden me with more. That’s all.”

“How kind of him, though I have to wonder if it was really a decision all his own, or if a certain prince asked~” Azul let out a musical laugh, smirking at your glare.

“Tsk, please.” You opened your mouth to refute Azul, pausing as you felt a dark, angry presence from behind you.

Hmph, as if they’d need assistance from him! He’s off in Briar Valley while I’m the one here with you, he’s hardly reliable. I don’t like what you’re implying Azul, did something happen between them over the summer that you’re not telling me?! Do I have to ask your mother for your baby pictures?

Slow blinking, you kept your gaze straight ahead, Azul’s words becoming gibberish as Jade continued ranting in his head. He was becoming increasingly more annoyed at the thought of you interacting with Malleus over the summer.

I’m willing to bet that you would’ve enjoyed visiting the Coral Sea instead, hm?

Huh? Seriously?

I hear it’s dreary in Briar Valley, I think the warm waters of the Rosarian reefs would’ve suited your disposition much better!

It’s not dreary, only a bit… you’re one to talk, don’t you live in the cold deep sea? That’s probably drearier than anything else, you can’t even see anything!

I would’ve shown you the perfect sightseeing location at Atlantia! I’m willing to bet my terrariums that he would’ve taken you to see gargoyles.

So? I find them quite delightful, you know?

“Prefect? Is your head in the clouds?” Azul lightly tapped your forehead as he stopped in front of his office. “You seem a bit out of it. Tired?”

“Uh.” You shook your head and stuttered, “No, just lost in thought, let’s get started.”

Azul opened the door to his office, gesturing for you to enter first, as he and Jade quickly followed after. Surprisingly, the whole ordeal was rather smooth sailing, if Jade’s constant barrage of what you could only describe as internal love bombing.

Cute~

Azul had brought out 5 student files, one for each student in your care and gave you the copies of their information. Class and club schedules, student ID numbers, and lots of information about their school before NRC. Interestingly enough, Aspen and Tony’s files were... sparse, with only their student information on the file. But no mention of their life, hobbies, or family before NRC.

I like that dress on you, it makes you look quite posh.

Aw, are you nervous? You always tap your leg when you are, is it Azul? Is it me? HOW CUTE! There’s no need to be nervous around me, darling~ I only wish to make you and every other being in this school know that you belong to me~

You tapped your leg faster before pausing and shifting in your seat instead.

Geez, just how much are you watching me to notice stuff like that?

“Based on their schedules, they should all be able to work their 15 hours throughout five week days.” Azul handed you a few files to look at the class and club schedules of your Octavinelle students. Each did have about 3 hours per day that they were free for a shift.

“That leaves their weekend open for any duties they may have for Ramshackle and club activities. Are there any issues that could occur on your dorm’s end?”

Shaking your head, you looked through the student’s schedules with mild curiosity.

“No, probably not. The Heartslabyul students have taken up most of the chores at the dorm.”

Oh, Tony’s one of the ones in Spelldrive? Heh, ironic.

“I’m pretty sure Riddle instilled the fear of the Seven in them, before sending them off to me.”

Oh, looks like Aspen’s in Pop Music Club? Huh, doesn’t seem like the type. Man, I really didn’t pay attention to their club paperwork…

“My my, that does seem like the Riddle we know.” Azul chuckled, nodding as Jade refilled his cup of tea. “Not surprising knowing how fond he is of you, isn’t that right, Jade?”

“ISn’T thAT riGHt JAde?” Yes, I’m aware, quit mocking me you're not too skinny to make a meal of.

“Oh yes, I’m quite aware. I’m sure you enjoy having such a protective friend, Prefect.” I can be protective! He’s nothing compared to me! “You do quite need it, with all the trouble you’ve gotten into.”

“Really?” You nervously laughed, half-hearted and soft. “I guess? He’s just being a good friend, that's all, I’m sure.”

Azul scoffed, “For being a friend, he does underestimate you. I still remember how you almost took Jade’s head off when we first met. Remember, when you charge in here demanding I free everyone?”

You blinked rapidly in confusion. “What? I never did that, what are you talking about?”

“Oh, you don’t remember? Hah! Jade, they don’t remember nearly smacking your face with a server’s plate!” Azul laughed as you continued to look on in confusion.

Jade smiled, chuckling along. “Oh? I do. Quite vividly, really.”

An image, or you guess a memory, passed through your mind of you, very clearly, brandishing a large silver platter like a weapon. The memory's vision shifted, dodging your hits as you tried slamming the plate into Jade’s face.

“You were quite angry that we took your 3 friends as anemones. A rare sight, seeing as you’re tended hearted, hm?”

Aaaaah! I look at that memory so fondly, you looked so beautiful, angry! Fighting is always the first step to a moray’s heart~

You choked on the cookie in your mouth, frantically reaching and gulping your own cup of tea. Choosing to ignore Azul’s snickering, and Jade’s internal fretting, you nervously gasp-laughed.

“Oh, I guess? Probably why I don’t remember, aha.”

“Perhaps. Back to the topic at hand,” Azul gestured to the schedules and continued, “do you foresee any issues with the shift schedules Jade assigned?”

You looked again, noticing the blocks drawn in a few of the spare spots in blue pen.

“Ah, no, it all looks good.” You looked at the clock, peeking at the time. “Did we cover everything? I’m supposed to be meeting Riddle in about 15.”

Azul and Jade turned to look at it as well, the former clicking his tongue in disappointment.

“Oh my, yes, this has gone far longer than needed.” Azul squinted at Jade. “Jade, I thought you were keeping the time?”

I know you’re lovesick, but please! Your brain isn’t made of sea foam, you know?

“Apologies. I have been quite focused on the schedules, I do have to ensure that they are able to fill in a position at work.” Jade replied, humming as he cleared the table of your empty plates and cups.

I was just so enthralled by my pearl’s loveliness. They’re breathtaking…my love.

You’re not sure what’s worse: the raunchy daydreams, or these. Sentences so full of yearning and devotion that it almost made you feel flattered.

I want to hear what they sound like out of breath, can you even moan with no air in your lungs? How could you when I’m eating them up with my tongue~

Nope. Actually, the raunchy ones are worse.

“Well!” You got up, dusting the imaginary dirt off your outfit. “If that’s all, then I’ll be heading to Heartslabyul. Grim will be bringing the remaining Octavinelle later for training, they all had clubs this morning.”

Azul nodded, holding the VIP Room door open. “That works perfectly. I’ll have Jade escort you over.”

“What? No, no, no!” You laughed, waving your hands and shaking your head. “I’m perfectly find walking myself-”

“Nonsense, we are a dorm of gentlemen after all, Jade?”

Say something this time, I beg. I don’t want to hear you whining about clamming up again.

“Of course, if you will, Prefect?” Thank you, Azul, perhaps I won’t eat you after all.

You stiffened, eyeing the arm Jade held out. With a resounding sigh, you nodded and ever so lightly wrapped a hand around his bicep. You chose to ignore the cheers in Jade’s head.

“Okay, fine. Bye Azul, I’ll see you at the next housewarden meeting.” You waved as you and Jade made your way through the hall into the lounge’s main dining hall. It was fairly full, the Mostro Lounge was always busy over the weekends, and you could see Tony running around with Floyd. He was carrying two trays in each of his hands with ease, balancing drinks with little concern.

What are you doing! Let go of Jade’s arm, you whore! Die die die diediediediediediedie—

You quickly swiped your hand back from Jade’s arm, noticing the small pout he gave at that. From the corner of your eye, you could see Aspen (and the rage that was practically emanating like an aura) seething at you. He was muttering to himself as he angrily cleaned the inside of a glass tumbler. It seemed that he was put at the bar to “train” though based on Floyd following around Tony, who was gossiping with him, Aspen wasn’t actually getting much training in.

That’s right, you better take your filthy hands off of him, you’re a sorry excuse of a mage and an even worse excuse of a human! You’re not even that pretty, you gross little—oh crap you’re staring, look away look away!

Aspen turned a deep lavender, looking down at the glass in his hand like it was the most interesting thing since sliced bread. You gestured at Aspen and suggested to Jade, “It looks like Floyd kinda left Aspen to fend for himself, maybe you should help him out? I can make it to Heartslabyul just fine.”

“Hmm? Oh dear, I suppose you are correct.” Jade sighed, eyeing Floyd as he and Tony leaned against a wall, chatting away.

“Though, I’m sure I can escort you and be back in a reasonable amount of time. It would be rude of me to abandon you so, especially when Azul asked me to do so.”

“It’s not that big of a deal…”

“Nonsense, let’s be off now.” Jade shushed any further concerns of you as he gently pushed you to the exit. He nodded to Aspen as you two walked by, mouthing ‘I’ll be back’ to the young man.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Aspen physically deflate at Jade leaving. Floyd noticed and gave his brother a wink, while Tony briefly frowned, looking between you, Jade, and Aspen.

Just let me be around you a bit longer, my pearl.

You sighed, relaxing as Jade’s hand remained comfortably on your upper back. Though the thought of Jade cornering you in a spare empty room as you headed to the mirror made you warm up, Jade seemed remarkably relaxed around you, for once.

It was weird, him just humming along without any screams or daydreams of fucking you.

Weird…wait no! This is ideal, don’t jinx it! Knock on wood, or he’s gonna think of something! Wood, wood, wood?? AH! It’s all glass and metal here!

“After you, Prefect.” you’d been so distracted that you didn’t notice that Jade and you made it to the lounge doors. He was holding the handle of the exit, motioning for you to enter the bubble forming at the door.

You made a small sound of surprise, rushing forward to push your body through the bubble. You weren’t quite used to the bubble, so It took a bit of effort, which caused you to fall forward. Jade’s arm wrapped around your waist, catching your fall. A small gasp left your mouth as he pulled you flush against his torso, your cheeks warming.

Ah, you’re so soft. And clumsy. You need me to care for you, don’t you?

“Careful,” Jade purred into your ear. “I would hate to see you hurt, though I’d be happy to tend to you if that happened.”

You felt your stomach flip and heat settle as Jade’s hand tightened its grip. If it wasn’t for the warm breath tingling your ear and the rumble of Jade’s chest against your back while he spoke, you’d think this was another one of his fantasies.

I can feel your heart pounding, are you nervous? Do I make you nervous?

Jade leaned farther down, his body nearly covering your own. Ironically, he was nervous himself, if his quick breaths were anything to go by.

You feel so warm against me, I wonder if you’ll feel just as warm when I’m inside…

Oh Sevens, seriously? Now!?

I would make you feel good, give you the most incredible pleasure ever known…

Please, bubble, move faster! Eek! Jade, where are you putting that hand!

Jade’s hand trailed upward, resting just below your chest.

Ah, is this really real? It is!! I can feel your heart.

“Just ask, and I’ll serve. I’m sure you could use the help now and then.”

Just say something, please! I want to hear your voice.

What am I supposed to… god, why am I so flustered?!

Despite your thoughts, you couldn’t find yourself trying to get out of his grasp. Maybe it was due to the nerves, or the way the warmth in your belly almost felt pleasant, but you weren’t sure how to respond to Jade.

“Uh, n-no that’s fine.” You mumbled, shifting as Jade continued to hold you, though it seemed his hand was loosening. “I’m good…by myself.”

But you’re never by yourself, are you? You have many friends, ready to come at your beck and call. Why won’t you add me to your little roster?

“If you say so. Just know I’m always ready to be of assistance.” Jade finally let you go as the bubble finally floated up to Octavinelle’s mirror. It pressed against the now glowing mirror, allowing you to push into the flickering glass of the mirror.

The familiar Hall of Mirrors was comforting, the air filling your lungs as you took a deep breath to calm your racing heart and nerves. Jade followed, though he stayed close to the Octavinelle entrance.

“Ah, I should be heading to Heartslabyul before I run late.” You nodded at Jade as you walked away. “Take care of Aspen, I think he’s nervous.”

You omitted ‘around you’ for Aspen’s sake.

Oh, that’s sweet. Is that so? How can you tell?

Jade smiled as he walked away, “How kind, I’ll be sure to keep an extra eye on him.”

The teal-haired man gave a small wave as he disappeared into a soft light through the mirror.

See you soon, my love.

You briefly watched him leave, before sighing and turning back around.

Geez, that was intense… I’m surprised a that you didn’t freak out more—

GAH! I CAN’T BELIEVE I DID THAT!!!!!!

You brought up a hand to cover the snort leaving your mouth.

Ah, there it is. Okay, I guess you’re a bit funny sometimes…

#twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech #jade leech x reader #twst jade #jade leech x yuu #mochi fic #the private thoughts (not) of a moray #ptm #twst jade x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

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