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loganlermanstanaccount · 11 months

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Show me where it hurts (part 1)

Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.

warnings: no warnings for this chap, pg-13, swearing and canon level violence. smut next chapter xoxo

a/n: this is a combination of 2 asks and this post I saw on here a while ago: flirty/ snarky fem reader, Miguel during a ""rut"" (I don't know if it counts as a rut really, but its to do with his animal instincts/DNA) and Lyla playing matchmaker. I had so much fun writing this, enjoy :D

(i wrote this pre seeing spiderverse 2, so i think characterisation is a little off, esp for Lyla, apologies! I'll fix it in my upcoming fics)

edit: I use the term "bichita" which I have been informed can be read not as I intended in Spanish. I'm not a native speaker so I want to apologise in advance. I'm doing more research for my future fics and leaving this up as a testament to my stupidity. Spanish speakers, feel free to correct me / clown my ass in the comments. My bad guys :(

wc: 3.6k

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You think Miguel is avoiding you.

One of your closest friends, giving you the runaround for months, it seems. Calling the two of you close friends is a little extreme, sure. You've only known O'Hara for two years, and been in love with him for slightly less than that, thank you very much. And yes, he refuses to call you by anything but your last name. And the last time you saw him he wouldn't so much as look at you, but that was besides the point.

"..the point," You tell Lyla, in between exasperated bites of cereal, "... is that aren't elite forces of spiderpeople supposed to, you know, have some spiderpeople kick ass once in a while? And where exactly is our fearless leader? I haven't seen O'Hara's scary ass in weeks, and I'm starting to miss it."

She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it.

"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"

"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow.

"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.."

He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here."

"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?"

"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?"

"I don't have time for this-"

"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?"

"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans.

"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks."

"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now."

This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching.

"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-"

"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."

"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."

He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "

Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!"

When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall.

"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly?

Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out.

~~~

Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big.

He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing.

Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm.

"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain.

Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies.

"What happened?" He strains.

"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-"

"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"

"Sit, bichita," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"

Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye.

"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-"

"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."

Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple.

"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."

When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile.

You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you.

"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."

You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."

"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."

You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?"

He shrugs. " 'Course I was."

"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does.

"Famous last words, bichita." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now.

He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?"

"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan.

"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"

"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact.

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-"

"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-"

"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"

"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-"

"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "

He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it.

"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"

Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.

"I don't… I d-don't…?"

"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?"

Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to.

"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."

"Miguel-"

"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."

"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts."

Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."

You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears.

"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."

You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down.

~~~

The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning.

The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before.

You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now.

"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"

"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home.

You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time.

The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear.

"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."

"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?"

"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"

"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."

"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."

"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."

"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?"

You hum.

"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"

"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."

He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?"

"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me."

"Naturally…"

"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."

"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"

"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."

"Shit."

"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."

"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "

"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me."

" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."

"Good to know. I'll see you around."

He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard.

Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes…

You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.

On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate.

"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you.

"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding.

"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?"

"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."

"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?"

She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."

Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?"

"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."

You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?"

"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."

"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?"

She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters."

"Did I do something? Not just today but… last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"

"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word.

"I'm a little confused, Lyla."

She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface.

It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head.

Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…

"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "

You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla."

"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."

Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning.

"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?"

"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."

"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."

"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."

"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this."

"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"

"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."

The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."

"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you."

With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.

#miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #across the spiderverse #kat_writes😼#this gif is fucking crazy btw

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drchucktingle · 3 months

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Chuck, how do you deal with people who are rude about you and your work? I write queer romance and I want to put my writing out there for people to read, but I'm a very sensitive person and I know it will be hard not to take insults personally and let them affect me. I don't want to let that stop me from expressing myself and sharing my art, but I'm scared!

very good question buckaroo. i am a good example of this as pretty much EVERYONE was rude about my work for many years calling it 'so bad its good' (it is just good) and 'terrible photoshop' (i think it has a great and instantly recognizable style) and 'intentionally stupid premises' (i dont think there is anything stupid about sex being fun and whimsical and playful). even these days the reaction of the VAST majority of buckaroos who discover chuck have this reaction AT FIRST, and then learn to appreciate the tingleverse in a more sincere way over time.

all that is to say BEING DOUBTED HAS WORKED OUT VERY WELL FOR ME. art that changes meaning over time can be very powerful, so if someones initial reaction to my trot is one thing and then it evolves into another thing, well that is just good art. while it can feel bad to get a bad review, i would say a bad review just means you have entered a realm of tension and change and discord and WE ARE TALKIN ABOUT ART BUD so that, in itself, is very exciting.

i think of what i do as 'punk writing', and a big part of that means pushing against preconceived sensibilities. not many other authors will proudly say 'there SHOULD be some spelling errors in my erotic shorts because i wrote it in a day and edited it once. that is the FEELING i want to create', but that is my way. by creating what is in my soul i KNOW i am going to bother some buckaroos and that is okay.

now i am NOT assuming you are also doing punk writing (that is okay of course we all have our own styles. what i am doing with tinglers is pretty rare), but it still stands to remember that there are 7.8 billion people on the planet of this dang timeline and some of them are bound to be bothered by your creations. that is not a problem, that is just part of baring your authentic self.

the other thing to remember is theres no REAL right or wrong in art. it can be analyzed in different ways and i tend to look at it in a way of comparing intention to result, but even THAT is not strictly correct. therefore any bad review of something you make is not actually BAD it is just someones information and feedback for you to take or leave. a one star review is just another opinion, it is no more right or wrong than your own opinion, and that is wonderful. it is freeing.

if i see a bad review of my own book, lets just say CAMP DAMASCUS for instance, i do not get upset because i know this: that reviewer is not wrong. camp damascus is five stars for me, but it is one star for someone else AND THAT IS OK. THAT IS THE WAY IT SHOULD BE. THAT IS GREAT ART. also MAYBE THEY KNOW BETTER THAN I DO. just because i wrote the book does not mean i am the authority on it, and the conversation and tension between those that enjoy something and those that despise it is a creative act. the audience engaging with your work is just your art emerging from its cocoon and saying 'here i am. lets see where i flutter off to now'

do not fear the river of this timeline sweeping away your creations and carrying them where it will. this is inevitable, but it is also beautiful and freeing. you cannot swim against it and that is okay bud, because YOU HAVE ALREADY WON. you have already created something and given a piece of yourself back to this timeline and that is a great honor and privilege. it is literally all there is

by creating ANYTHING you are proving love is real, and that is something to be proud of

#buckaroo lifestyle #art #creation #chuck tingle

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darknight3904 · 4 months

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You're a Liar

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴋᴇʟᴇᴛᴏɴꜱ ɪɴ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ' ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇᴛ.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ / ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ꜱɴᴏᴡ (ʜᴇ ɪꜱ ʙᴀᴅ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ)

ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ꜱᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ. ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴛᴅ ꜱᴏ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴅᴀᴇᴍᴏɴ/ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ ʙʀᴀɪɴ ʀᴏᴛ.

Mornings might just be your favorite time of day. The way the sun just barely peaked through the curtains and shimmered its way across the bedspread made your shared room with Coriolanus look simply divine.

Mornings might just be your favorite time of day. The delicious scent of bacon and freshly cooked pancakes wafted through the mansion and under your closed door. The promise of fresh orange juice and perfectly hot coffee was enough to rouse anyone from their slumber.

Mornings might just be your favorite time of day. Coriolanus is still asleep beside you. Curly hair is splayed on the pillow, free from whatever styling gel he put in it. His face is relaxed and peaceful as you run your fingertips across his forehead and down the bridge of his nose. The stress of being president is gone from his face when he sleeps and that's how you know, mornings are your favorite time of day.

"I can feel you staring at me."

His voice was still muddled with sleep, deep and scratchy as he batted at your hands trying to keep them off his gorgeous face.

"I'm appreciating the art in front of me," You smile as he finally opens his eyes.

"Your hands on my face are making my nose itch." He says grabbing your right hand and gently squeezing it as he sits up beside you.

You hum a tune of acknowledgment and take in his appearance. Coriolanus' pale skin was a wonderful sight to behold as the blanket slipped and fell into his lap.

"You're staring again." He says playing with your fingers

"An incredibly attractive man seems to be missing his shirt, can you blame me for staring?" You state a playful smile pulling on your lips.

Coriolanus lets out a snort and gets out of bed with a grunt. Long red scratches adorn his back as you watch your fiancee walk across the room towards the bathroom, ready to scrub last night's activities off himself.

Yes, mornings were your favorite time of day. You had warm sunshine, delicious food, and Coriolanus by your side.

But, most of all, mornings were your favorite because you weren't alone.

Coriolanus never truly wanted to leave the bedroom he shared with you. Even now as you groaned and begged him to just lounge around the mansion with you, he wished he could go back to when he felt your soft fingertips brushing the bridge of his nose. He had woken up beside you, cleaned himself, and eaten a wonderful breakfast, now the next step was simple. The next step was attending to his duties as the President of Panem and leaving you to your day in the south wing of the mansion. Despite the tempting idea of staying with you, he knew you'd be eagerly awaiting him, tonight at the dinner table, ready to listen about his day. It was the perfect daily routine and Coriolanus never wanted it to change.

He could feel the press of your lips on his lingering hours later as the newest Head Gamemaker listed detailed plans for the games that were two months away. Dr. Gaul's death had been a blow to the way the Hunger Games functioned as a whole. Now, Coriolanus wasn't sure if the new man chosen for the job was truly the correct choice, he didn't have any of the ruthlessness Gaul had. Sure, he could've stepped in but how would he run the country and dream up deadly traps and mutts for tributes. Sure, he probably could've but that meant so many hours of overtime and leaving you to sleep alone in those overly soft sheets you had hand-picked for your shared bed. This new game maker would just have to do, he didn't want to imagine your sad little face if he didn't sit down for dinner with you each night.

The hours after Coriolanus left you at the breakfast table were terribly boring. There wasn't anything for you to do anymore.Sure, you could've gone shopping or gone to a local park but you hated doing all those things alone. Coriolanus had convinced you that running your Father's weapons company would be overwhelming for you and managed it in your name. As far as you knew it was doing well and was providing many jobs for people in the districts. Everything else in the mansion was tended to by an army of maids and butlers, who were ready at the snap of a finger. So, here you sat in your sunroom that Coriolanus had built as a special place just for you.

You had taken up painting nearly a year ago but your long days of solitude had caused you to quickly run out of inspiration. Now, the paints and easel sat, awaiting your touch but your creativity was gone. You missed Coriolanus and he wouldn't return for another hour. Surely dinner was nearly ready and you wished you were sitting with him, listening to whatever he had spent his day doing. Perhaps you should start a new book before he returns. That'd give you something to tell him about when he did come back.

Maybe the extensive in-home library here would have a book about a lonely woman, wishing for her lover. Maybe there'd be a book all about her and how she spent her days without him and how to pass the time. Maybe, there'd be a book all about her mornings with him and how she never wished for them to come to an end.

It was during these long days that you felt like the loneliest woman in all of Panem. Moments like this made it feel like you were a delicate china doll, only removed from her case to be admired for a few spare moments before being placed back on her shelf.

Two Years Later

Watching. It was something you had gotten good at over the past few months, especially since Coriolanus stopped allowing you to leave the grounds of the mansion. You watched as the boy you grew up with and danced at countless galas faded from view. You tried to welcome the man who sat across from you eating his dinner but it was had more and more difficult as the weeks bled into months and months turned to years. Coriolanus even seldom kissed you now. It hurt even though you knew it was for your own safety. He had admitted it one night in the darkness of your room as he lay beside you. Poison had created sensitive sores in his mouth. You wished he'd stop using it, surely there had to be other ways to do away with enemies.

You felt as though you were withering away, your days were so tedious and you often found yourself eagerly waiting at the dinner table for Coriolanus. Your long days were spent in isolation and you rarely spoke to the staff of the mansion. That didn't stop you from racing to the dining room when the sounds of Coriolanus' return sounded through the halls. Some days it felt like you were a child waiting to tell their parent about their day.

Tonight, it was like your words were falling on deaf ears as Coriolanus was paging through a book while nibbling at the food that had been placed in front of the two of you. Your engagement ring was a dazzling silver as you played with your fingers, wishing he'd look up from whatever knowledge that book might've held.

"Coryo..." You began

"Yes?"

His tone wasn't what you had hoped for. He was annoyed that you were interrupting whatever was on the page in front of him so you didn't elaborate on what you had wanted to say.

Watching. It was something you had gotten good at since there wasn't anything else for you to do.

It was raining the day you found them. You had spent most of the day lounging around and working with the wedding planner Coriolanus had hired so you wouldn't have to do all of the work yourself.

It was nestled in an old shoe box, covered in dust, perfectly hidden behind Coriolanus' clothes on his side of the closet. At first, you had thought it might have been more of Sejanus' things that Coriolanus never gave back to Strabo. Instead what you were met with was worse than a dead boy's things. There, wrapped up in a silky orange scarf sat a single golden earring and an envelope. You swore you could smell lingering perfume on the scarf as you opened the envelope.

It felt like your hands were burning when you finally looked at them. Surely they weren't real. Right?

Two pictures sat in your hands. One of Lucy Gray Baird on some unknown stage, a black guitar in hand. Her pretty dark curls were pulled back and behind her a small group of blurry faces were muddled together, unrecognizable due to the poor lighting. You felt a lump of anxiety and anger swell in your throat when you moved on to the next picture. It was taken as if the subjects of the photo had no knowledge of the camera. Lucy Gray sits on a dilapidated-looking couch with your Coriolanus beside her. Her face was partially obscured as she pressed her lips to his cheek and Coriolanus was smiling, his one arm wrapped securely around her waist.

How long had it been since he smiled like that at you? Perhaps it was even before the reaping that had brought her to the Capitol. When was the last time you saw a truly genuine smile from the boy you grew up with? You wondered how you had missed the way his boyish smiles had transformed into those cruel smirks he donned when things went his way.

Jealousy and sadness burned in your stomach as your mind raced. How long had it been since these photos were taken? It had been nearly 7 years since her games. Coriolanus' head was clearly buzzed in the photo with Lucy which meant it was after he was forced by Highbottom to leave the Capitol. How many times after his return to you had he assured you that nothing had happened between them? How many times had you believed him and his sweet words and actions? How many times had he lied and betrayed you all for another girl who mysteriously disappeared?

Betrayal is what you felt as you pocketed the pictures and slid the box back into its spot behind his fancy coats. Tears were pricking at your eyes as you dressed for dinner, Coriolanus would be back soon and you would confront him about the pictures once he was seated across from you at that dinner table you had sat at hundreds of times.

Dinner is silent as you pick at the cut of steak that was placed on your plate. Coriolanus is talking about how he's on the hunt for another head game maker and how annoying it is but you just can't help but not care. The table that separates you from him makes it feel like a huge ravine has grown between the two of you as you tune him out.

15 years is how long you've known Coriolanus Snow. In those 15 years, you had never dreamed of doing what you were about to do as you removed the pictures from where they sat hidden under your pretty skirt, a floral pattern Coriolanus had picked for your 27th birthday a few months ago. Your heart ached as you slid them across the table to him.

"I found these today. In our closet. Wrapped in your mother's scarf with a gold earring."

You finally have all of Coriolanus' attention as he swallows his food and stops his complaining.

"I thought you said it wasn't romantic. You promised me it wasn't."

Coriolanus glances down at the pictures and reaches out to brush his finger across the one with him and Lucy Gray on that couch.

"You promised, Coryo."

Your voice was breaking. Damn it, don't cry!

"I know I did."

He finally speaks. You wondered what was going through that ridiculously complex mind as he fumbled for his words.

"Then why did you lie? I would've listened if you had just told the truth to begin with." You honestly say.

It's true, you would've heard him out. Maybe you wouldn't have taken him back but you would have at least listened.

"I wasn't thinking straight, okay," He says " I should've told you. I should've gotten rid of that stuff years ago. I don't know why I didn't."

"Yes, you do." You sigh "You love her Coryo. Even now, you're looking for Lucy Gray. That's why you keep me here, you're scared I'll run off like her."

"No, no that's not it. I just...want you to myself." He reasoned

"If that were true you'd let me leave."

"Why do you need to? Everything anyone could ever wish for is right here in this home." He points out, you don't miss the way his fist is clenching, his nails digging into his skin.

"I haven't left the mansion in two years!" You cry, blinking back tears "I feel like some prize you've won and caged up! You don't even let me attend galas anymore."

"You hated those galas. All the nosey reporters and their questions were something you hated. Do you want me to apologize for doing you a favor? I won't. I've done nothing but make your life easier." Coriolanus says

"Yes, you have made my life easier, you've eliminated all challenges I might come across by keeping me here, like a doll." You agree, tone dripping with sarcasm

"Look, if you want you can go to the next gala with me. It's in a week I'll get a designer here tomorrow morning to make you a nice dress." Coriolanus sighed, clearly tired "I don't want to argue with you about petty things"

"Good, then we can argue about these photos." You say, ready to finally hear what he had to say.

"I don't love her. Maybe I did at some point but none of that matters now, I came back to you didn't I?"

Maybe I did at some point.

Hot tears fell from your eyes as you looked down at your feet. How could you be so stupid? Why didn't you see it sooner?

The sound of Coriolanus getting up and walking towards you had you wiping at your face and unattractively sniffing as you tried to fix your runny nose. You didn't want him taking your tears as a sign of weakness. He couched down beside you and pulled your chair out so you were facing him.

"Stop crying." He commands placing his hands on your thighs.

Another fresh set of tears falls from your eyes and Coriolanus brushes them away.

"You're a liar." You say, your voice barely a whisper

"I'm not...I want to be here, with you. I'll let you go back out on your little shopping trips and attend galas, shitty reporters and all."

It's tempting, to agree and let everything perfectly mend itself. But as you glance at the pictures that fell off the table and Lucy Gray's face stares back at you, you feel your heart sink to your feet again.

"You're a liar." You say, this time your voice comes out strong as you push his warm hands from your face

Coriolanus gives you a hard stare but lets you pull away from him.

"You can't even apologize for seeing her." You point out

Coriolanus looks guilty as he disgests your words.

"What happened between the two of you?" You asked

"She ran off, I think. I also had some personal issues after Sejanus was killed. She offered for me to go with her, I almost did." He says

You let out a soft hum of acknowledgment as Coriolanus remains in front of you, on his knees, fiddling with the end of your skirt.

"I don't think I ever really loved her. I think it might've just been the idea of possessing her that I liked." He admits, eyes on the floor

"And how is that different than us now?" You ask

Coriolanus' eyes snap up to yours when the question leaves your lips.

"It's different because...we're us...We grew up together, darling. You ate Tigris' cabbage soup and gave me lunch when I didn't have money for my own."

You swallow the lump in your throat and stand up. Coriolanus immediately rises, not interested in being so much shorter than you. You know what has to come next but you're not sure if you're strong enough to do it. Your actions will close the chapter of a book 15 years in the making.

"Coryo...I think I want to go home." You say looking up at him, fresh tears pool in your eyes.

"You are home. You're with me." He says reaching out and taking your hand in his

"No, I mean...to my family's home. I want my mom, I miss her." You admit, pulling your hand out of his.

Coriolanus' face is confused as you look down at the gorgeous ring he gave you at his proposal. It looked so perfect on your hand when you woke up just this morning but now it felt like a death sentence as you sighed.

"I think you should have this back too..." You say as you slip it off and hold it out to him, "I'm sorry about things ending like this, but if you can't even apologize, I don't think I can stay."

Coriolanus' confusion quickly morphs into anger as he looks at the ring in your hand.

"Put it back on. I'm not letting you walk away." He says, upset

"Coryo, don't make this difficult." You say taking the ring and placing it into the pocket that sits just above his heart in his button-up shirt.

You begin to walk towards the looming archway that marks the entrance to the dining room but you're blocked by an angry Coriolanus Snow, tears in his eyes, fists clenched, and his mouth set in a cold line.

"You're not leaving. I won't let you."

Part Four

Series Masterlist

Taglist:

@10ava01

@i-dont-know-make-it-cool @bxtchopolis @anneliese500 @kitscutie @kiselasmetana @wpdarlingpan @miglielia @anneliese500

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@ffioncandy @marihoneywk @earth-to-lottie @julesandro @arzua10 @wotcherpeak

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#the hunger games #fanfic #coriolanus snow smut #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #katniss everdeen #mockingjay #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #lucy gray baird #tom blyth #rachel zegler #coriolanus snow fluff #sejanus plinth #thg #tbosas #coriolanus snow x fem!reader

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artist-issues · 5 months

Text

Disney doesn't need to change "the formula." That's the last thing that Wish proves.

What Wish proves is that "the formula" only works when you know why the ingredients are in it, and you use them the correct way.

The Princess Character is meant to wish for only half of the movie's message, and go through an adventure that teaches her what the other half is; what her dream was missing. Ariel dreamed of understanding but she was missing love. Tiana dreamed of achieving her goals but she was missing faith. Jasmine dreamed of freedom but she was missing trust. Belle dreamed of adventure but she was missing being understood.

The Villain is meant to highlight the opposite of the movie's message. Jafar gets what he wants through trickery and manipulation; that's the opposite of Aladdin's "truth will set you free" message, and he gets imprisoned in a lamp. Scar thinks being a King is having his way all the time and can't learn from his past of living in Mufasa's shadow; that's the opposite of The Lion King's "Let the past remind you of your responsibility to selflessness." Gaston loves only himself and is always obsessed with appearances; that's the opposite of Beauty & the Beast's "true love is found within a heart of self-sacrifice." That's what makes them such good villains. (and that clear direction is what drives good villain songs, since Magnifico's is what everyone is talking about)

The sidekick is supposed to compare/contrast with the main character's qualities. Abu is a greedy thief, which is what everyone in Agrabah thinks Aladdin is; when he scolds Abu and teaches him selflessness, it shows us who Aladdin actually is. Flounder is easily frightened and looks at the glass half-full; when Ariel coaxes him and leads by example, we see her bravery and positivity reflected in Flounder's tiny character arc. Timon & Pumbaa do whatever they want all day just like young Simba always dreamed of; when Simba goes to live with them, he finds that "getting his way all the time" makes him forget who he really is and feel empty.

The setting is supposed to show off the characters and highlight the movie's message. Rapunzel's tower is designed to be pretty on the inside because of her influence; if it were too dark and prison-shaped, we'd wonder why she didn't work up the courage to leave sooner. Just like how Quasimodo has made his corner of the bell-tower beautiful, too; they're taught the world is cruel and they're not strong enough for it, but they make their own worlds beautiful enough to hint that that's wrong right from the start. Ariel's grotto is shaped like a tower with no roof so that she only has one window to the forbidden Surface, and it's the light that comes from that forbidden world into her dark grotto which literally makes her able to see human things differently. Tiana's apartment has no interesting features except her father's picture, a perfectly made bed, a drawer with no extra outfits but stuffed with tip money, and only two dresses; both of which are for work.

None of that is happening in Wish, because they didn't know why the formula ingredients are there. Disney needs to understand and return to the formula the right way; forgetting it was what got them here.

Asha learns nothing to add to her dream, unless you count "the power to grant wishes is in me." Which you shouldn't, because we didn't even know she was confused about that until the animals sang a song that was completely off-topic and she had the chance to jump in and sing "I'm a Star!"

Magnifico does not demonstrate the opposite of Wish's message effectively because his character has nothing to do with a philosophy against making wishes, and everything to do with power. (He is the strongest character in the film. But because the message and core concept of what wishes are are so bad, that's not saying much.)

Valentino, and Asha's friends, do not highlight anything about her character through compare/contrast. Valentino is brave and all over the place. Her friends are seven-dwarfs parodies. Happy, Doc, Sneezy, Dopey, Bashful, Sleepy, Grumpy. None of that contrasts with Asha's vague characterization of "cares too much." None of it compares to that characterization, either.

The setting is empty. There are no interesting details that teach you something about any of the characters. None in Asha's home, none in the neat-and-tidy one-dimensional forest, none in the Rosas square, and none in the bland, empty castle. Magnifico's study is the closest anything gets; there's a loose concept that all of Asha's friends have to work together to open the roof, and take a leap of faith to weigh the pulley system down. Unfortunately, none of these characters is shown struggling to work together, OR to take leaps of faith, at all, before this point.

The ingredients of the formula are in Wish. They're just not being used correctly. This is how not to use the formula; it's not the formulas fault. If it ain't broke. They should never have let people convince them to try and fix it.

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smutoperator · 4 months

Note

Will you write M Reader x Ryujin and Somi threesome fun ?

Gym Intruder

Shin Ryujin, Jeon Somi x Male Reader

Tags: acrobatic, arguing, armpit fetish, deepthroat, dry humping, facial, gym, threesome, titfucking, weather, workout

Word count: 4843

In the last stages of Itzy's comeback preparation, Ryujin decided to hit the gym for one final time. You were both doing exercises at the gym and noticed each other. Despite the cold weather, Ryujin was wearing a very small outfit. You were the only two people there, so you decided to talk to each other.

"Hi, Nice to meet you, you told her. "What's your name?", you asked. "Ryujin, nice to meet you", she said, extending her hand for a handshake. From the start, you were looking at her hot body. "You seem a little anxious; what's going on?", you asked her. "You know, my group has a comeback in a few days, and I need to hit the marks on the gym; lots of performances are coming, and we already did lots of preparation", Ryujin replied. "I think you're doing a great job", you told Ryujin. "If you need some help, just call me", you said. "I'd love to have some help", she said.

You started coaching some exercise for her as a way of getting to know her better, as you held her armpits while she was lifting a weight, showing her the correct posture, and giving her some instructions as if you were her gym trainer. "Like that?", Ryujin asked, repeating some movements, receiving a negative response from you. "So, why don't you just show me the proper way?", she asked. "Sure, my pleasure", you continued. "Could you put me in the right position?", she asked. "Sure, you should bend your butt like this and put it in an upward position while getting yourself on all fours", you told Ryujin, already having in mind what it would look like if you stretched her out in that position. "That's going to keep your core stable", you said, caressing her back. "You should also put this elbow up and free your armpits", you continued.

"So, like this?", Ryujin asked. She knew you were into something, as she made a motion where her ass started bumping against your hips. "That's it", you answer affirmatively as she starts dry-humping you and giving you a huge boner in spite of the below-zero weather outside. "Hmmmm", she said, before getting surprised by a little spanking of her ass cheeks you gave her. "You're doing so well", you said. "Sure, that does feel good", Ryujin said. "Is there anything I can do to help you as well?", she continued. "You know what, I want to get some intense exercise; you could definitely give me some help", you said.

"Sure, I'm ready", Ryujin told you, her hands already searching for that bulge underneath your pants. She quickly got herself on her knees and started taking your shorts off. "Ooooh, I didn't think it could get this hard in such cold weather", she said. "But I can make it better", she continued as she started sucking your pole off, her perfect dick sucking lips fitting like a glove as she took it in her warm mouth, heating it up and making it grow inside her. You groaned at each move as she quickly deep-throated you. After she pulled out, you slapped your cock on her face for the first time. "Holy shit", you said, impressed with her skills.

It turns out throating was Ryujin's best specialty; she had sucked way bigger cocks before but tried to make sure you grew to the size she wanted. "I can't believe we are doing this", you said, shocked. "There is no one around us; we can do anything you want", she said, continuing to suck you out. Her hands were so firm, and her mouth was so good. She quickly went to give your balls some love, and after a while, you bent down to kiss her cock-sucking mouth. As your length grew thanks to her work, you finally got the courage to hit deep in her throat with a facefuck.

After a while, you drew Ryujin closer to you and stared, humping your cock against her milky thighs. "So sweaty, you should check it on a summer day", she said, flaunting her assets. You slapped her cock against her thighs and kissed her before letting Ryujin sit down and fucking her face again, then kneeling yourself to lick her sweaty armpits. "They are still dirty; lick them harder", she ordered as you obliged, sweeping them before taking your cock and sliding between them. "Yes, baby, hump that cock in those fucking pits", she said. "You're getting my pussy so wet", she continued as you kept humping. "Hot sweaty workout in the gym the cold winter, that's amazing", she kept going.

You gave Ryujin another facefuck, getting your cock ready to slide it between her armpits shortly after, giving her kisses as you rubbed it against her pits. However, your fun wasn't about to last for long, as you noticed a blonde woman running towards the gym you and Ryujin were inside. You had to quickly pull your cock back in your pants and pretend nothing had happened as the young woman approached. "Oh shit that was close", Ryujin said, getting herself back into a regular workout position.

Somi arrived at the gym already showing off her bare legs and nice cleavage. "Hi", you asked her. "I wasn't expecting you to come"; it's so early in the year and too cold outside", you continued. "Hey, Somi", Ryujin replied. However, she didn't say anything. It seemed like she wasn't in a good mood and just came to the gym to distract herself. Somi started doing some push-ups and squats as you too positioned themselves behind her. Ryujin, however, wanted to continue, grabbing some ropes and bending her butt over for another dry humping session. As Somi kept squatting, she then turned around and noticed you guys flirting close to her. You two made eye contact, but she ignored you as you moved your body against Ryujin's as if you were pounding her in a standing doggy position.

"I think it would be better if we kept a straighter position", Ryujin said, bending over further and taking her shorts off, keeping only her thong on. You noticed it was the same thong her groupmate Yeji wore at some performances, wondering if Ryujin had planned this all along to the point where she even stole her underwear. "Let me check your form, Ryujin", you said. "Yes, you need to check it right here", She grabbed your head and moved it against her ass, moaning as you pulled "her" thong to the side, and you started eating her pussy. In the background, Somi kept doing her individual workout, picking up some weights from the deck, and still ignoring your presence in the room. "That's perfect; it feels so good", Ryujin complimented your skills as you moved up and also took a bite of her ass.

After a while, the noise both of you were making was too much for Somi to ignore. She turned around and noticed Ryujin was only wearing her thong down low, showing her legs even more than Somi. "Oh yeah, just like that", Ryujin continued as you kept eating her pussy and her ass smothered your face. "I think we need to get this workout more intense, don't you think?", she then asked, looking at your bulge and removing your pants again. If Somi was so keen on just ignoring them, Ryujin decided she was just going to give no fucks about it. "Time to stretch out", she said to you as you started to slap her cheeks with your cock.

"Stretch me out, baby, oooohh", Ryujin demanded as she moaned when you inserted your cock in her pussy, closing her eyes and grabbing the equipment. The thought of being stretched out in front of someone else was very much a fantasy she had had for years. "Oh yeah, that stretch is good, just like that", she continued. Your thursts were very slow; you didn't want her to scream just to let out some soft moans. You then grabbed under her shirt and started massaging her tits, noticing she had no bra on (probably another thing she learned from her leader, didn't she?). "That's exactly how I wanted to work out", Ryujin praised you as you increased the pace.

Somi surely looked very immersed in whatever exercise she was doing because she continued to ignore you two's degenerate perversity despite it getting hotter and filthier. Ryujin now moaned as if she were in her own bed, but Somi remained unresponsive. Maybe she was aware of everything and just wanted to talk shit about Ryujin behind her back to her fellow idol friends. However, that was about to change. Somi finally turned around and looked straight into Ryujin's eyes while she was being stretched out. "What are you doing, bitch?", she rispidily asked. "We are just working out", Ryujin said promptly, as if she were being caught committing a crime. "YOU ARE IN THE FUCKING GYM, RYUJIN; HAVE SOME MANNERS; YOUR FUCKING TITS ARE OUT IN THE OPEN", Somi screamed at her, very upset.

"But it's so hot in here", Ryujin gave a poor excuse, which Somi sniffed as bullshit with ease. "Seriouly? It's below freezing out there". Even a stereotypical dumb blonde wouldn't get fooled by Ryujin's antics. You just watched them argue while putting your pants back on. "You're not serious about your career, Ryujin, doing this with a comeback looming", Somi scolded her. "Says the person who has one every two years", Ryujin replied. "Calm down, girls, let's not argue", you tried to intervene. "I was just training her", you continued. "Training? You're just a pervert who should get fired", Somi continued. "Oh, Somi, can you please calm down? Let him show you what he can do. I've felt better today than I have in weeks; this comeback really stressed me out", Ryujin said.

"Then show me what you have under those pants", an angry Somi demanded of you as you slowly unzipped. Despite their arguing, you still hadn't lost any of your erection. "We are really focused on stretching it out", you said, shaking your naked cock in front of Somi's intimidating presence. "Look at him", Ryujin said. "God, it's this big in that cold; I've gotta give him some props", Somi replied. "She is not as big as those bulls you took on those trips to Europe, but you should check it out to see if it fits your demanding standards", Ryujin said to Somi, who then clapped her hands and walked in your direction, letting your cock slap her belly button a bit before grabbing it.

"I'm calling bullshit; you're not a trainer", Somi says to your face. You try to argue in the opposite way, but she's having none of it. "Look at this big bulge, Somi; it's so nice and muscular", Ryujin laughs. "I guess she should try it", you reply. "I kinda like that; it's very nice and rigid", she says as she puts the tip of your cock in her mouth for some tasting. "Wow!", you exclaim as she sucks you off. It was your lucky day to get two great cocksuckers. "Let me clean your sweat off while you do that", Ryujin tells Somi, taking her shorts off and eating her pussy while she keeps sucking your cock.

"That's good", you praise Somi's cock sucking shills while Ryujin dives into her pussy, giving it some rapid tonguing. Somi moans with your cock in her mouth as both of you stimulate her holes. Just like with Ryujin, you give Somi's cock sucking mouth a kiss as she keeps handling your pole. Ryujin eats Somi out and gives her ass some spanking as Somi dives back into your cock. After a few moments, she stands up with her almost naked body in front of yours. Except for one part. Saving the best for last, Somi takes her shirt off and then pulls her black bra to the side while still keeping it on, showing you her massive tits. She isn't much shorter than you, which gives you both perfect eye contact as you kiss.

Somi is now sandwiched between you and Ryujin as both of you stimulate her as hard as you can. Ryujin kisses her neck while your tongue dives deep into hers. Down low, both of you finger Somi's perfect pink pussy. You then kiss Ryujin, who gives an idea: "We could both suck that big, hard pole together if you want to". You lie down on one of the equipments and let them do the work. Ryujin takes the tip, and Somi takes your balls in a classic POV blowjob. They then lick your cock from top to bottom before stopping at the tip and sharing it. "I think she likes it", Ryujin says. "Your eyes are beautiful when sucking that dick", you tell both of them.

Ryujin gives you a deepthroat that makes you hold yourself against the equipment. She quickly identifies it as your weakness and keeps moving, sucking your soul with her mouth. After a while, she gives Somi the opportunity to lead. Identifying it, you demand, "Give me those tits", humping your cock up and down Somi's milky melons before she even starts to wrap them up against that pole. Somi spits on your penis head and then presses her boobs hard against your shaft, tightening and clenching her tits like if it was her pussy already. The devilish smile Somi gives when performing a titfuck turns you on so hard. She knows that's her best asset and proudly uses them to milk men dry. Her titjob is very fast-paced and gives men no room to breathe. When she finally takes control, a sudden rush of blood flows to your cock to meet her demand for big, thorbbing meat sliding up and down her milk bags. "Yes, baby, I know you love those big tits wrapped around your cock like that," Somi whispers. "He's getting spoiled", Ryujin says as Somi moves towards deepthroating your shaft.

"Oh, it feels so good", you say. Ryujin nods in agreement as she watches Somi from above. "Your turn", Somi tells Ryujin, who wraps her left armpit around your cock. "Yes, fuck those juicy armpits", she demands as you thrust into them. "They are all sweaty and nasty," she continues, using your cock like a cleaner. "Now that's a workout!", she exclaims as Somi laughs beside her. Ryujin quickly dives back into your cock once she finishes it, sucking it without using her hands. This time, her deepthroat is so intense that your legs shake to the point where you're forced to pull out and not nut in her mouth right there.

"I think she's gonna please you for a while", Ryujin smiles at Somi as she kisses her. You get up and get a nice look at their bodies side by side, the shorter and toned Ryujin with a little bush between her legs contrasting with Somi's milky white big tits and snow-esque skin with her unshaved pink pussy. You move in Somi's direction, humping your cock against her ass and spanking her Wasian butt, which makes her moan. "Oh God", she says. Ryujin climbs on a pair of ropes to get closer to your height (not a problem for Somi) as you hold her waist. She then spreads her legs and lets her body get suspended in the air for you to have free access to her pussy. "Just like that", Somi incentivizes her as she watches you eat Ryujin out while she faces the ground.

You give Ryujin's ass a little spanking before she climbs out of the rope, letting Somi take her turn. "Look at this nasty sweaty ass", Ryujin says, talking about Somi's rear. "Look at that", you marvel at Somi's pink slit as she spreads her legs, diving at her folds while Ryujin rests on Somi's butt. The wasian slut moans a lot as she enjoys your workout of her clit. "OH GOD YES, OH, OH, OH", Somi screams as your tongue licks her pussy while Ryujin joins in and licks Somi's asshole. You tongue-kiss Ryujin as you two share a taste of Somi's holes. "Eat that pussy and suck on that clit", Ryujin keeps telling you, making Somi scream even further before you spank her ass and signal the workout is over. Somi gleefully smiles, ready for the next one.

"I want more", Somi says. "You want some of that dick, don't you?", Ryujin asks her. "YES!", Somi quickly replies. You slap her long legs as she climbs back up the rope. "Put it in there for her", you ask Ryujin, who guides your pole into Somi's entrance, sliding it inside. "Oh my God", Somi says, her body now twisted sideways as you insert your cock in her. "Spread that ass for me", you order Ryujin, who grabs Somi's cheeks and spreads them. Oh fuck yes", Somi moans while holding herself by the rope as you stretch her tall, thin body out. "I knew you would love this", Ryujin brags as she stimulates Somi's erogenous zones up top, licking her pits and kissing her neck and mouth. "Oh, you're so right", Somi answers back as they kiss each other.

"Now that's a good workout", Ryujin says as Somi screams with you pumping harder into her pussy. You kiss Ryujin as she laughs at the once-angry Somi, now looking completely overwhelmed by your cock. "She loves that", Ryujin plays with Somi, who can only answer "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes". Ryujin sucks on Somi's tits as you keep pounding her with her left leg up in the air. You spank Somi's ass as you push deeper, and Somi continues to scream. "Just the way she likes", Ryujin says. "You're gonna make her cum", she continues". "Stretch that hot body", Ryujin keeps going between more kisses. "OH FUCK!", Somi screams as lots of juices flow out of her pussy. You tap her ass and pull out of her so Ryujin can taste them out of your cock immediately, leaving just a few for Somi. "God, you taste so good in that fucking cock", Ryujin tells her.

"Now is my turn", Ryujin says as she finishes kissing Somi. She takes her sneakers off while you kiss Somi yourself, climbing on the rope for some acrobatic missionary pounding. "Ohhhh yessss", she says as you line up to insert your cock in her wild pussy, her back resting on Somi's boobs. "Oh yeah, stretch that fucking pussy. Give that pussy a workout", Ryujin says in between laughs while Somi licks her nipples. You slap your cock on Ryujin's entrance before going back in and pushing harder. "I wanna cum, I wanna cum all over that cock", she says. "Spank my pussy, make me cum", she asks Somi, who stares, fingering Ryujin's clit. "FUCK ME, OHHHH. OHHH, MY GOD YES", Ryujin screams. It doesn't take long until she is the one coating your cock with juices, as they now reverse roles and Somi licks them from your pole.

"I have a naughty idea", Ryujin says as she recovers from her orgasm and kisses Somi. You have a few moments alone with the big tit wasian, grabbing her nipples and caressing her hair as you kiss her. "Don't you wanna fuck her and her perfect body more?", Ryujin asks you as you spank Somi's ass once more. She then sits on a ballance ball as Ryujin ties her ankles in the air and spreads her pussy for another pounding. You take Somi in a piledriver position as Ryujin stimulates her friend's big tits with lots of nipple sucking. Somi screams as you fuck her hard and deep from the start, your cock bulging under her fit body. "OH MY GOD! IT'S SO GOOD! she yells as Ryujin kisses her tits once more and then fingers her wet cunt as your cock stretches Somi out. "Oh fuck, I love it", Somi says before begging for God once more. "That's a good stretch", Ryujin says. "Oh God, make my pussy cum", Somi begs as Ryujin fingers her once more, and you hit her deep, making her reach orgasm once more.

"Let me taste that dick", Ryujin says as Somi's legs are still shaking, enjoying her nectar once again. You too overstimulate Somi, as the pounding of your cock is perfectly syncronized with Ryujin's magical fingers, only stopping to fuck Ryujin's face every time Somi releases her wet juices. "Damn, it's so fucking wet", Ryujin talks about Somi's dripping cun. "Ah, ah, ah, ah", are now the only words Somi can utter. Ryujin pinching her nipples and you hitting her cervix make Somi's legs close as Ryujin once again tastes her juices. "I want some of that dick", Ryujin smirked at you with Somi still on top of that ball. "You were always right, Ryujin; I shouldn't have been angry at you", Somi apologizes as you stick your cock back inside her, mating her against the floor for one final time and finishing the exercise with a spank to Ryujin's butt.

You help Somi get back on her feet as Ryujin waits for her turn. You spank her slutty ass and lie on the floor, lining your cock against her pussy while Somi sits hers in your face. Smacking your balls into her entrance, you pound Ryujin from down low while Somi fingers her pussy as you also eat her out. You pump Ryujin fast, making her juices flow out very quickly. Somi climbs out of you and tastes it as soon as Ryujin pulls out for the first time, while you finger Ryujin's pussy as she's suspended in the air. "How does that pussy taste?", she asks Somi. "Nasty", Somi replies as she spits on your cock and gets you ready for a second round, to which you pound Ryujin at an even faster pace. "Don't fucking stop. Harder! Nice and deep. Just like that", Ryujin tells you as Somi fingers her cunt. Not only don't you stop, but you increase the pace, hitting Ryujin as hard as you can and stretching her pussy all the way up to her cervix. Ryujin continues to moan under Somi's watchful eye until a spasm hits her.

"OHHHHH SHIT!" Ryujin prepares herself to cum again, taking control as she starts to bounce frenetically on your cock until she cums. Somi didn't even wait for her to recover; she was sitting on your cock as soon as Ryujin pulled out of it, giving it a hot cowgirl bounce with her legs spread at a 120-degree angle. It surely surprised you that Somi was capable of such a cock-breaking bounce, going so fast to the point that your cock slipped out of her pussy. Ryujin soon joined the fun, licking Somi's butthole as she kept riding your cock faster and faster, with extra help from Ryujin as she kept pushing Somi's ass down. "Work it, work that fucking ass, squat on that big dick", Ryujin demanded of Somi, who obliged. After a few more bounces, Somi pulled out and tasted herself, sucking your cock with her body still arched while Ryujin licked her legs. The Itzy girl then throated your boner once more.

Ryujin climbed back on the rope, making out with Somi as you prepared your next move. With her bodies still bumping against each other, you inserted your cock back into Ryujin's pussy from behind. "Oh yes!", she exclaimed and started moaning close to Somi's face, kissing her while you clapped Ryujin's cheeks hard. "Oh yes, use that fucking pussy", Ryujin demanded as you picked up the pace, Somi grabbing her by the waist. You got really rough with her, pounding Ryujin relentlessly for a few minutes, to the point where it made Somi jealous. After you finished, Somi asked you to put her on the abdominal bench, as you too ganged up on her with Ryujin eating her pussy while you fucked her face and then her tits. "Wow, you made a mess of this pussy; I need to clean it up", Ryujin said as she kept diving into Somi's vagina.

"Hmmm, Somi, you're making me so jealous by taking all that dick for yourself", Ryujin said as she pulled out your cock from Somi's mouth to taste it too. "Ohhhhh, fuck!" you exclaimed. No matter how many times she had done it, Ryujin's soul-sucking blowjobs always surprised you. Ryujin then licked Somi's sweat from her neck, which gave you room to go back into Somi's throat. That upset Ryujin, who "punished" you with another masterful deepthroat. "Ahhhh, that's impressive; your mouth is so fucking warm", you told Ryujin after she finished.

Ryujin turned the heating on the gym up, turning it into a greenhouse in the middle of the cold Seoul winter. "It's about to get hot in here", she said as you were about to put Somi on all fours and fuck her pink pussy in doggy. Rtujin picked some water that had not frozen and poured it on Somi's back and butt, making her shiver, before serving you some. "Come on, baby, you need some to fuck that pussy the best you can", Ryujin laughed while finishing herself to drink it, while Somi twerked her ass against your hips. Ryujin then spit the water on Somi's butt just as you picked up the pace and started pounding her harder. "Smack that slut", Ryujin ordered you as she spanked Somi's ass. "She wants it", she continued as you went rough against the Wasian whore while Ryujin showered Somi with another bottle of water.

"Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes" it was all Somi could say as Ryujin kept playing with her. "Turn this slut's ass red", Ryujin kept demanding as you pounded Somi hard. "Use that pussy like a fucking animal. Make her cream all over that fucking cock", she continued. "Are you gonna fucking destroy this pussy?", Ryujin kept going, not satisfied until you absorbed her anger and took it out on Somi's tight fuckhole. "AH. AH. AH. AH. AH", Somi rapidly screamed as you intensely boned her.

"Oh, you're all wet", Ryujin said to Somi just as you finished this routine. "How did you get so wet?", she laughed as you fingered Somi's pussy and spanked her ass. She lied herself on the table, ready to get pounded, as Somi got on top of her. You teased her pussy, grinding on her a few times before going in. "That pussy is ready to swallow that dick all the way deep", Ryujin claimed just as you started pounding her. "Oh shit!", she screamed and groaned as you pumped her. "Give me that good fucking stretch", she continued as you groped Somi's tits. "Yes, yes, yes, oh fuck", Ryujin kept moaning. Somi fingered herself as she watched you two fuck, coating her juices on Ryujin's belly. As Ryujin kept pushing, the harder you fucked her, the more you spanked Somi's ass in front of you. Craving for Somi's pussy, you pulled out of Ryujin and got back to destroying the Wasian cumdump, making her tits bounce as Ryujin grabbed them down low.

Ryujin licked Somi's bouncy boobs like a maniac as you kept destroying Somi's pussy. "Oh, you're dripping all over me", Ryujin said as Somi squirted all over her body. She was so needy, you switched back to her fuckhole, with Somi helping by fingering her pussy. "You like it? You like that pussy? Then stretch it out just like that. I want your cum so fucking bad", Ryujin kept talking as she sensed you were close. "I'm going to need that protein shake after such a workout", she said. "Let's go, baby; give it to us. Ohhhh, you like those nice, tight, sweet pussies?" she kept going. "I could go all day, fuck my hot, sexy body", she kept saying, sending you over the moon. "Harder, give it to me; use me until you fucking cum", she continued.

"There you go, there you go; fuck me hard and deep just like that", Ryujin said as you picked up the pace, her body bouncing on the table waiting for your protein shake. You manhandled her until her legs started to shake. As she came for one final time, you and Somi kissed her, but you held yourself for the final climax. You pulled out of Ryujin and let Somi drain your balls instead, as she sucked and jerked your cock one last time until you nutted all over her beautiful face. "Let me taste that cum; I'm gonna lick you", Ryujin said, as she scooped the semen out of Somi's face into her mouth, then swapped the cum with Somi. "Wasn't it such a workout? Now you believe in this equipment. Could he be our trainer for the next time?", Ryujin asked. "Every time", Somi replied. "I think you're gonna be our trainer for a long time", Ryujin said, as they licked your instrument one final time before heading back to their dorms.

#itzy smut #somi smut #ryujin smut #female idol smut #kpop smut #male reader smut #girl group smut

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𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬, 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦

summary: After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.

parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader

word count: 6.5K

warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum

a/n: this work is for @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge! My prompts were "enemies to lovers" and "Again! Please, again!" I am incredibly thankful to Suz for letting me participate. I haven't been able to participate in a challenge since forever ago 😅 ALSO! This is my first time writing enemies to lovers, as well as curvy!reader! even though i'm curvy myself, i hope i did okay ♥ This work is not beta-read. all mistakes are my own. If any mistake is glaringly obvious, please feel free to message me and let me know! p.s. I listened to a lot of PVRIS + Nothing But Thieves writing this, can ya tell? p.p.s. the amount of willpower and struggle with my muse it took to finish this is... a lot. i think she scratched my cornea at some point.

If I’ve missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!

gif by @unearthlydust | dividers by @cafekitsune | warning banner by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist title from: You Know Me Too Well by Nothing But Thieves Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚

Bucky Barnes has always hated you, and you have always hated Bucky Barnes. At least since you first met, that is.

Being the newest recruit– and only sharp-shooter– to grace the S.H.I.E.L.D. Direct Action Team’s roster since signing on the Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, the hostility was almost immediate from the second you walked in your first day.

You couldn’t help cringing– which would be quickly followed by raging annoyance and a slight migraine– without remembering your first time training with Bucky. He made it crystal clear he didn’t trust your previous experience or trainers, let alone your sniper training. Within the first week he ground your spirit into dust with his leather combat boots, quashing any attempts to defend yourself. And it’s not like you weren’t familiar with his history, either; he’d broken every single last sharp-shooter that came to the team before you, a hardass ex-assassin with an introverted mean streak who happened one of the top snipers in the United States Army during World War II. Old dogs certainly can learn new tricks, though, and it was extremely apparent when it came to Bucky Barnes.

When you finally had enough midway through the third week, you snapped at him after he corrected you for the umpteenth time on your foot positioning, pointedly informing him you weren’t built like you could take on a goddamned semi-truck with one hand.

Once you finished, he silently handed you a pistol and challenged you to a shoot off. One-handed. You considered it a tie. Tony considered the training range off-limits until he got government permission via S.H.I.E.L.D. to replace every single shooting target and torso dummy in the compound– including the extras.

After that, the two of you weren’t allowed in the gym, on the same mode of transportation, in the infirmary, or the training range without someone else to supervise with a tranquilizer gun at the ready and within arm’s reach of said supervisor. More often than not, though, the ‘someone else’ was either Steve or Natasha– depending who won the coin toss before training that day– and the tranquilizer gun wasn’t really more of a tranquilizer gun than it was a slight sedative to calm each of you down enough for either Steve, or Nat, to drag you out without kicking and screaming at each other. Granted, it only happened one time– a workout competition-turned-sparring match that lasted the better part of four hours– but everyone else agreed to keep it around. Just in case.

You learned, however, exactly how much ketamine it took to down a raging super soldier with a vibranium arm. You couldn’t help but make horse whinnies under your breath every time you passed Bucky in the compound for at least a week.

With a year of domestic missions underneath your belt, S.H.I.E.L.D. constituted you ready to travel with the DA Team on international missions and operations. You were elated, excited to prove your worth and wit to everyone; especially Bucky, because maybe then he’d be at least keen enough to start showing you a drop of respect.

Then there was the fallout of when you both learned you’d be sent on the next mission. Together. Albeit with Natasha and Clint– but together.

Fury said he didn’t have a choice. Tony claimed it was out of his hands. Natasha, while protecting a cowering Steve from the flames and daggers shooting out of yours and Bucky’s glares, flat out told you, “either you both learn to work together, or neither of you are working DA missions again,” adding, with gritted teeth and a pinched bridge, “The whole team thinks you’re a fucking pair of walking time bombs. I don’t wanna use the damn ketamine gun again.”

The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to Turkey with your rifle, wits, and the waiting promise of separate hotel rooms upon arrival.

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

A reddened sun dipped over the Istanbul skyline, swathing the city in shadows. Dusk was imminent as you ascended the rusted fire escape and stepped onto the roof of the abandoned building; the dilapidated outside was perfect enough to designate it as the main stake out location. You sighed in awe at the view, catching the remnants of the sunset while pausing for a brief break before switching into ‘work mode.’

“Stop fuckin’ around, get into position,” Bucky said through your ear piece. Shit. You forgot he could see your video feed via the harness crossing over your chest and the cameras Natasha set up on the roof and the building next door.

“Sorry, Sarge, thought I’d enjoy the view before I dome some fuckin’ war criminal from a thousand yards away,” you huffed. The line went silent, save from what sounded like very faint cursing amidst the static. You rolled your eyes, swinging the gun bag off your back, unpacking and assembling and loading, preparing for working on yet another thrilling Saturday night.

You silently prayed the hotel had a decent bar with decent hours.

Dropping into a prone position, you were thankful for the custom-fit tac suit that hugged your body as your hips and thighs scraped against debris littering the roof as you positioned the scope of your rifle, placing your hand delicately on the trigger.

“In position,” you muttered, adjusting into a more comfortable, ready-to-bail position in case things went south. When you shot prone, it felt as if the mission at hand weighed just a bit heavier than others. More unbearable. The tactical suit and additional weapons attached to your aching body rivaled that of cinder blocks chained to your legs, weighing you down to the ocean floor in an attempted drowning while you tried to stay above water.

It's never gotten easier, but it's never been harder.

The past two days had been filled with inconsistent sleep, hiding out, and keeping watch, all while under the watchful eye of Bucky. Bucky, who was watching you from inside the stakeout building, who threw a super soldier temper tantrum about having to figure out the ‘nonsensical logistics’ of how to stream a fucking live video feed, who barely bothered to say a word to you while meeting Natasha at the location that morning– aside from graciously allowing you to borrow his weapons cleaning kit.

“You didn’t bring your own?” He cocked a judgmental brow at you, looking you up and down like a creature that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. Steely sea-blue eyes met yours, sharp and bright. Challenging. The collar of your tactical suit had instantly tightened.

“Figured we both use the same stuff, might as well bring the one to save space,” you shrugged, cocking a hip.

Bucky’s eyes flitted to your pronounced curve before you straightened, swallowing.

“Fine. Go nuts,” he sighed reluctantly, gesturing for you to sit in the guarded seat across from him. You sensed his piercing gaze follow you, feeling the same heat creep up your neck and cheeks just like all the other times he watched you. You chocked it up to an intimidation tactic, because it sure as hell worked.

You shook Bucky out of your brain. You needed to stay focused.

“Copy. Target is en route to position, t-minus two minutes. Make it clean and make it quick.” Natasha's voice was cool, calming you and the usual racing thoughts in your head during these types of missions. You preferred her over anyone else to be your spotter since your first time out in the field, but this time she was assigned to be the plant, luring the target away from the rather innocent party-goers so they wouldn’t be splattered with brain matter and skull fragments courtesy of you.

Though, you had to admit, in the right scenarios, that was one of the more satisfying things that came with being a sniper.

“Don’t fuckin’ rush it,” Bucky chimed in.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Copy, Nat, just keep dangling the carrot.”

“You know I’ll do more than that. Out.” You could hear her wink.

Two minutes might not seem like much, but missions like these can make it feel like a lifetime. Part of you hoped Bucky watched every second. The other half hoped you could smack the doubtful smirk off his stubble-ridden face– the same exact one he had whenever he watched you train. It was like he wanted you to fail. Like he was expecting it, anticipating it.

You pinched your wrist. Now was not the fucking time.

You brought the scope closer to your face, targeting the window Natasha would be bringing the target in front of. The crosshairs helped even out the scene while you lined up the shot right between the bedroom’s curtains. You readied yourself, focusing on breathing and controlling the rise and fall of your chest, steadying your bottom half. You blinked, then, and through the sights you spotted the golden shimmer of Natasha’s dress reflecting off the room’s low lighting. Finger on the trigger, delicately squeezing as the target’s head entered into the crosshairs, stepping unknowingly into the middle of your aim, mere seconds left to live, left until he rots in his deserved place in hell.

Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Pull.

The target dropped in mere milliseconds as the shot reverberated throughout your body, the sound thankfully muffled by your ear pieces and the silencer. The recoil of the rifle dug into your shoulder, fighting against the rest of your body anchored by stiffened muscles. You exhaled, shaky, still, pushing the scope from your face and resting your head on the cool metal of the stock, allowing it to sear into your burning forehead.

“Confirmed kill. Target down. Meet you back at the hotel, over,” Natasha’s breathless voice crackled into your ear.

“Copy. On my way down. Bucky do you–”

White hot pain suddenly seared through the back of your skull, slamming you face-first into your rifle. You clutched the back of your head, whipping around to be greeted by the dark void of a gun barrel. You froze, blood draining from your face, stomach free-falling as your gaze traveled up to meet crazed eyes and a twisted face. The man– your assaulter– was clad in black with hints of a tattoo running up his neck like blackened veins. No doubt the symbols hidden under his collar belonged to the syndicate run by his boss. The boss you just killed.

He snarled, yellowed teeth glistening in a maniacal grin. “You’re going to pay for that, little bitch,” he spat and nodded to your rifle as he shoved the barrel in your face. The metal practically branded you like marking a cattle for slaughter.

“Try me, prick,” you gritted through ringing pain and a locked jaw, snarling at the man as you rose, slowly, the barrel unmoving as the gun followed your position.

His grin widened. He began pushing you backwards towards the edge of the roof. Quickly, you kicked your foot out, catching his ankle and grabbing his wrist, pointing the gun at the darkened sky as you clawed at his fingers to release it from his grasp. A deafening shot rang out as you wrestled, sending an elbow straight into your jaw that shoved you away. He aimed for you again as you pulled a knife from your waistband, hurling it at any limb you could hit. It nailed him in his thigh, deep enough you knew it hit bone. He dropped the pistol in favor of his leg, allowing you enough of a break to kick the gun off the roof, sliding it off the opposite edge and down the fire escape.

You stood. You noticed the flicker, the fire, in the man’s eyes as it raged, burning brighter than the streetlights below. He yelled as he lunged, knocking you down again. Hard. Lungs deflated, pain seared through your spine, leaving you sputtering and gasping, grasping desperately for anything: his arms, his legs, your knife, your knife in his leg. Your head spun from the impact, rage and bile boiling in your stomach as arms and legs kicked and thrashed. The man grabbed you by your hair as if to scalp you, limping his way to the edge of the roof, dragging you along inch by inch. You deadened, going limp, hoping to make it that much harder for him to drag you with a knife in his fucking femur. Your stomach dropped as the wind picked up and the distance from the fire escape grew farther away. You knew what was in store: a five-story drop onto the hard street below.

With impressive strength for a man who was actively bleeding out– and bleeding all over you– he swung you around by the fistful of hair in his hands, dangling your bottom half off the edge of the roof. You fought the panic beginning to set in, thrashing your feet around in an attempt to find some sort of foothold as your hands scrambled to grip the ledge. To add insult to injury, he slammed your head down, skull and jaw dropping with a dizzying thump. A gruff laugh erupted from his chest, and he spat at you. You glanced hesitantly over your shoulder. The world stretched and morphed the longer you looked; your eyes saw a fifty-foot drop while your brain saw a thousand foot death sentence. You willed your sore neck to turn back to the man, only to fight the scream that bubbled up your throat at the sight of a miniature pistol pointed execution-style at you. You ceased any movement, eyes widening, grip tightening on the inch-thick ledge of the roof that held you from becoming a human pancake.

“Looks like you’ll pay after all, bitch!” He grinned, cocking the pistol and preparing to fire. As he squeezed the trigger, as you squeezed your eyes shut, there’s a muffled shot, and then a warm, oozing feeling running down your face and neck. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, greeted by the sight of the man’s jaw slackened as his eyes began to roll back in his skull. A singular bullet wound centered on his forehead leaked brain and blood and bits of bone. He’s shoved over, body falling like a rag doll and spilling onto the roof. He’s quickly replaced by a seething, panting Bucky with a pistol pointed where your would-be-killer stood. Your eyes widened as your chest constricted, fingertips grinding against the edge as your arms burned and begged to be pulled to solid ground. He lowers the gun, lips parted, eyes boring into your soul like he’s seen a ghost.

“Sar–Bucky, I’m fuckin’ slipping here!” you yelled as your left hand began to give way to gravity. The entirely reasonable request seemed to piss him off even more as he cursed, dropping his gun and grabbing harshly onto your arms, yanking you back up. He dropped you onto the roof in a heap. While your muscles screamed and you hacked up your lungs trying to regain normal oxygen levels, the annoyance you harbored for Bucky returned just as quickly as the gratefulness you had for his rescue faded once he turned his back on you, heading to the fire escape.

“Thanks, Bucky, but Jesus fucking–”

He whipped around, blue eyes flashing crimson– a warning sign to choose your next words extremely carefully.

“Clean up n’ get the fuck down. I’m leaving with or without you in ten fucking minutes,” he seethed, fists clenching onto the fire escape bars. You winced at the groaning sound the metal emitted as he bent it out of place, imprinting his palm prints into the bars.

“Bucky, I– What do–” you stuttered. Thoughts were racing as you looked between him and your would-be murderer decaying in his own drying blood a few feet away. You looked back at him. His eyes, swimming with something unrecognizable, mixed with fear and anger plaguing his features– like he remembered something so vivid, so real, that he was reliving it again.

“Just,” he turns his back to you, voice shaking, “get down here.”

He disappeared, leaving you to clean up the mess.

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

The back alleyway was lit with a single, softly glowing flood light that led out to the busy streets. Bucky, who was already waiting for you with a furiously tapping foot, surveilled you with a stuck-snarling lip as you jumped down from the fire escape. The gilded plates in his hand leading up under his sleeve glinted with the violet-tinted vibranium.

There's a moment, a beat, shared between you as you stood to look at him. You stared at one another, gazes unwavering and refusing to break, to blink. The shadows surrounding you began to move as if they were dancing on Bucky's face, sharpening his jaw, his features. He stayed on you, eyes flitting ever-so-slightly over your form.

Your face burned.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Take a fuckin’ picture why don’t ya?”

You rolled your eyes. “Could say th’same for you.”

He grumbled something– probably cursing you– under his breath. As he opened his mouth to hurl an insult your way, both your phones pinged.

♦ Natasha: Taking last flight out of IST. Jet coming early AM. Lay low. Don’t kill each other. Please. Talk soon.

You swallowed a groan.

“Fuckin’ great,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for you to hear.

“Uh, okay. Fuck you, too, then,” you shot at him defensively. Knee-jerk reaction. Pinching the bridge of your nose and kicking yourself, you dropped the subject. Not the fight you wanted to pick at that moment. “Let’s– let's just call a cab and get to the hotel.”

“No. I have a bike. And we’re going to a safehouse.”

“Bucky, it's dark enough, my bag is–”

Suddenly, he was much closer than a mere second before, backing you up against the wall of the stakeout building. He beat you in height by a decent amount, but him towering over you really put it in perspective. His broad shoulders heaved, vibranium arm whirring in overdrive as he jabbed a plated finger at you, his face inches from yours.

“I. Don't. Fucking. Care,” he stabbed each word into your sternum. “Bike’s down at the other end of the block. We're taking it, or you can fuckin’ walk. Doesn't matter to me.”

You wanted to take his finger and break it.

You glared, focus shifting between his startlingly bright blue eyes and the strange closeness of his face to yours. It was like you were seeing him– like, actually seeing him– for the first time in high definition. All of his details– the small scars by his hairline, the slight crookedness of his nose, crow’s feet and worry lines beginning to etch themselves into his skin, the indent between his brows– overwhelmed you as your eyes darted all over his face. You snapped back to his glare and were suddenly very conscious of your own facial expression that failed to rival his. You set your jaw and furrowed your brow.

You doubted it was convincing.

“Fine.”

He stepped back and started striding down the alleyway with you at his heels. Your grip on the straps of the gun bag burned your palms as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s annoyingly long strides. At the intersection between the main street and two shops sat a garage; it appeared closed for the night, but was still open to Bucky, apparently, who pulled a key out from under an unsuspecting plant. He unlocked the large metal door, lifting it to reveal a tiny space that was barely big enough to house the large motorcycle and a workbench scattered with parts and tools. He strolled in like he owned the place and grabbed one of the helmets hanging off the motorcycle’s handles, handing it to you with an outstretched arm as he saddled himself onto the bike. You looked from him to the helmet, mouth agape and brow arched in confusion.

When you didn’t take it, he rolled his eyes and shook it at you.

“C’mon, we don’t have all night.”

“When the hell did you–”

“I’ve got my ways. Now c’mon, put the damn helmet on,” he huffed, leaning back on the seat. His thick thighs clenched and straddled the gunmetal-body of the motorcycle. You held back the shiver that ran up your back as you crossed your arms, hip cocking out in defiance. In the briefest of pauses, Bucky stilled, and you swore you caught his eyes scanning down your body, your curves and full figure, before snapping back up to meet yours. He scoffed, smirking to himself and shaking his head.

“The fuck are you laughin’ at?” Your face turned hot, prompting your arms to hug tighter over your chest. You felt off balance.

He said nothing and tossed the helmet to you. Your arms uncrossed and reacted much faster than your brain did as you barely caught it, slipping it on. Pointedly sighing, you relented and climbed onto the bike as Bucky put his own helmet on, sliding the visor down. In the shortly-live silence, your breathing echoed his, the air weighing heavy with anticipation. You were suddenly hyper-aware of every single little touch, every tiny movement made, every breath taken– like a bucket of ice water getting splashed on you, you were present for what felt like the first time that night.

The bike roared to life and Bucky leaned forward to fit his body closer to the handles.

“Might wanna hang on,” he yelled over the noise. You hesitated, probably for a second too long for Bucky’s liking as he looked behind you and rolled his eyes (you knew he did, even behind the stupid visor.) He reached behind his back and grabbed your wrist, pulling you against him and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your free arm followed suit, tightly embracing him, heart pounding in your chest at the sudden act. You lurched forward as he rode out of the garage and began down the street; the location was a mystery to you, other than you knew it was one of the regular S.H.I.E.L.D. approved safehouses in Istanbul.

Weaving through the other bikes and cars, you couldn’t help but lean closer into Bucky, watching the lights and sights pass by in a blur. Fingers fanned over his abdomen as you held on, feeling the firm leather tac jacket against your skin– which became firmer upon pressing into him and feeling like you were palming a brick wall. Knees fit together at the sides of the bike, shifting ever-so-slightly whenever he braked or shifted. Worst of all, as you hugged your chest into his back, you had a front-row seat in viewing the way his broad shoulders twisted with laser-like precision as he drove.

It took every ounce of energy not to let go and fall off the bike.

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

The four-flight trudge up to the safehouse– more like safeapartment, actually– was a miserable one, especially with twenty pounds worth of gear on your back and a highly impatient super soldier on your ass telling you to “hurry the fuck up.”

“Again: ‘m not built like a fuckin’ freight train, here, Bucky,” you panted as your legs struggled in rounding the fourth and final landing. He didn’t bother to wait for you, instead turning wordlessly off the landing, heading down the hallway to the door with the keys jingling against his vibranium hand. You caught up to him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he fumbled with the sticky lock, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his hands moved. The way the vibranium prosthetic moved as fluidly as his flesh and bone, the way the plates glinted in the dimly lit hallway, the way his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own.

Bucky swung the door open, pulling you out of your trance. He flicked on a light switch to reveal a small apartment complete with a cramped living room, couch, small T.V., and an open kitchen in the back. A hallway diverted off to the left, presumably to the bathroom and–

“It’s a one bedroom,” Bucky muttered, stepping into the apartment. You looked at him incredulously.

“You– you’re kidding, right?” you asked, closing the door behind you and dropping your bag off to the side.

“No. Why would I?” Bucky turned to you, cocking a brow with hands set on his hips, revealing his undone tac jacket and the tightest fucking dry-fit shirt underneath. It was practically a second skin, hugging against his abs you felt earlier. You stared slack-jawed at him like he didn’t just hear himself speak.

“Because there’s only one fucking bed?”

“Yeah. And I’m taking it. You get couch duty,” he stated matter-of-factly. His crooked smirk prodded at your nerves.

You scoffed and mirrored his stance. “What? No! I did the work today, you sat around and just… watched.”

His face hardened. “I sat and just… watched?” he repeated, tone challenging you as he took a step forward.

You swallowed. “You heard me.”

One second, you were ready to hurl another choice word at Bucky. The next, you were slammed against the back of the door. Hard.

Bucky had rushed you, grabbing your arms with bruising force and forcing them up, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. You yelled in protest, failing to squirm out of the cage that was his body.

“Look at me right fuckin’ now,” he demanded, lips curling into a snarl and bared teeth. His voice turned, a complete 180. Dominating, commanding, enraging. When you didn’t obey instantly, he slammed your wrists against the door again.

“Look at me!”

“No! Fuck– Get off me!”

With your feet still free, you started kicking him, eliciting what sounded like a growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. Bucky passed your wrist in his metal hand off to his flesh one, pinning both hands above your head while shoving a thick thigh between both of yours– right against your core. An uncontrollable yelp escaped from you as he pushed. Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and it took every bit of control to stop yourself from clenching your thighs together automatically. The fire Bucky ignited only grew, imaginary flames roaring in your stomach and racing up your limbs. His prosthetic hand snaked up your neck and squeezed your chin, squishing your cheeks and lips, forcing your eyes to him.

You felt lightheaded. Bucky– fuck, nobody– ever grabbed you like that; like you belonged to them. To him.

“You’re gonna listen to me, and listen good,” he shook your face, “I saved your fuckin’ life tonight, ‘member? When you were defenseless and as good as fuckin’ dead on that roof? You made me shoot that piece of shit point blank. You made me almost shoot you.”

His voice shook and he looked away, biting his lip then coming back to you. “I fuckin’ saved your life when you should’ve saved your own. If it’d been any later– if I’d been a second later–” He steadied a breath, shaking his head and scoffing a laugh. He focused back on you with wildly electric blues. “I saved your life. Therefore, I get the goddamned bed tonight. Got it?”

You stared at him for a second longer before nodding gently. The energy building between you was enough to burn the entire building down if someone lit a cigarette. A smirk slowly bloomed across your lips. He released your chin, hand sinking down to rest against your collarbone.

“Is that all, Sergeant?”

His Adam's apple bobbed.

“What did you just call me?” he whispered, sliding a vibranium palm around the column of your neck, plated fingers resting on your pulse point. He twitched. Inches.

“You heard me.”

The air, thick in the apartment, felt charged.

“Needja t’say it again. Can’t hear too well,” he slurred, licking his lips. Eyelids fluttering, hands squeezing. Centimeters.

“Whatever you say,” you lilted. Millimeters. “Sergeant.”

Lightning struck. Everything ignited, setting fire to both of you as Bucky’s lips seared into yours. Hard, sloppy, desperate as tongue and teeth swapped secrets like old friends. He was unexplored territory, yet he felt so familiar. His prosthetic slowly relented the grip on your wrists, dropping to your shoulder, sliding down your chest where he greedily groped and slid over every last peak and dip of your body: tits screaming for release from your suit; hips jerking in short bursts at his every movement. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, forcing your thick thighs to spread wider as his own pushed further against your arousal.

“Been–” Bucky smacked your lips, kissing hungrily across your cheek and biting down your neck, “Shit– Been wanting this so– long, fuck–” He pressed into you, his cock harder a gun in his waistband. You couldn’t hold onto the intensely lust-filled moan that spilled from your throat much longer. Bucky grinned against your neck, lapping and sucking and marking your skin like he owned you. Like he could do whatever he wanted to you.

And you let him.

“Gotta get this shit off you,” Bucky mumbled into your neck as he shed his own jacket, face not leaving your skin. Rough hands grabbed onto you and ripped away the buckles and buttons of the jacket that kept your body from him. A deep groan rumbled inside his chest as he threw the top half of your suit to the side, drinking in the beautiful sight of your body, hugged in all the right places by the cami that was riding up your stomach while your tits gasped for air, spilling out, fighting against your sports bra.

“Holy–fuck, holy shit.”

Bucky Barnes was speechless. And you were the reason why.

He stopped as your wrists came down from above your head and fell down your frame.

“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

Your heart stopped.

“You’re telling me.”

Another charge surged and you threw yourself at Bucky, sending both of you stumbling through the living room. Hands grasped and groped. Fingers busied themselves with removing clothing, undoing pants to throw one way and stripping shirts to toss another. You were magnetized to him, carding through his cropped chocolate hair, hooking your arms behind his neck– which was still bare and practically begging you to mark it in every way you knew. Stumbling over an end table, knocking into the wall that led down the hallway, dragging one another to the bedroom only to pause when you whined at Bucky to shut the door.

Both of you were near-naked, relishing in each other’s skin by the time you made it to the bed, falling on it with him on top of you in a heap. Bucky hiked you further up the bed, dropping you onto the several pillows that made it feel like Cloud 9. You looked up at him straddling your hips with legs that seemed to spread wider the further down he sat. Eyelids fluttered while your pupils adjusted to the dark bedroom. What lay before was a scene out of your wildest fantasy.

Bucky sat back on his hips, hair spiking out in wild tufts, cock aching to break free from the confines of his briefs as he stared back at you hungrily. His tongue jutted out to wet his lips, dragging the bottom half back into his teeth while his lust-blown pupils trained directly on you. You truly hadn’t registered the god-like, sculpturesque muscles leading down his chest and over his rippling abs that finished in a very defined ‘V’ below the waistband of his briefs. The veins bulging in his arm and hand were enough to send you spiraling. Everything before you left you speechless. Wanting. Needing.

Bucky slid painstakingly slow hands over your hips, up your waist, your ribs, slipping curious fingers underneath the hem of your sports bra. He didn’t rip it off like you expected, however.

He looked at you. Really looked at you. “You–” his Adam’s apple bobbed, “y’know this’ll change everything. Right?”

You nodded, eager, confident. “Yeah. I– I know.”

“You wanna do this?” He tugged harder.

“Yes.” Another tug. Your tits begged for release.

“And you… got protection, er–” he hesitated, cocking a brow.

“Pill. I–I’m on the pill,” you breathlessly assured him. You added with a shrug, “I assume you didn’t bring any…”

He scoffed a laugh. “You weren’t exactly on my list of things t’do.”

“Well I hope I’m a top priority, now.”

“Number fuckin’ one.”

The elastic tore as he ripped the fabric, finally releasing your breasts from their constraint. Bucky discarded your ruined bra and turned back to you. His hands gravitated automatically to your chest, kneading, squeezing; thumbs and index fingers on both sides felt around for your nipples and pinched the sensitive buds, eliciting a squeal from you and another rush of arousal flooded your core.

Bucky hummed while locking his lips onto a pointed peak, mouthing and nipping and sucking. You mewled, running a hand up the back of his head and through his messy hair. His vibranium hand started downwards, sending your senses into overdrive as metal fingers teased the hem of your hipsters that met the crease in your thigh. He released your swollen nipple with a pop.

“Fuck you’re soaked, baby,” he moaned. Tugging your hipsters down your legs, he returned to leaning back on his hips. You’re breathless, panting, melting before him as he palms his thick erection. The girthy, leaking head poked over the waistband, aching to finally meet you. To feel you.

He stripped his briefs off, springing his cock free. You couldn’t tell if the uncontrollable moan that escaped from your lips was because of how mouth-watering he was or the thrilling worry that flooded your mind at the thought (and soon-to-be very real act) of fitting him– all of him– inside you. You glanced at him, catching the way his eyes darkened into something sinister, something hungry and uncontrollable. His jaw hardened as he pumped himself, leaking precum droplets onto your thighs.

“Get on your fuckin’ stomach,” he commanded. You obeyed, willing to do anything in your power to quell the iron-hot ache that made your pussy throb with want. The second your palms hit the mattress he grabbed you, hands bruising your love handles and ass as he yanked you back to him, shoving your face down into the pillows. With your cheek pressing into the mattress, face squishing into your elbow, all of the oxygen was pulled from your lungs. A beat of silence filled the void between you before a loud SMACK followed by a stinging pain radiating from your ass.

SMACK. “That was for the back talk.”

SMACK. “That was for scarin’ me t’night.”

SMACK. “And that was for makin’ me have to wait this long to fuck your stubborn ass.”

Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and onto the sheets as you chewed your lip, trying (and failing) to dull the harsh, hot pain. Hands gripping your hips, bruising and rough, he yanked you back to meet his front. His cock jammed in between your cheeks as he grinded on you, kneading your ass to mold around him.

“You’re gonna take me,” he rasped, low and throaty. “All of me.”

You felt him line himself up with your entrance, his girthy head poking and prodding at your entrance. A beat. Hesitation from both of you before he finally snapped forward, plunging into you, filling you, stretching you wider than you could’ve imagined. Once inside, he paused, shifting inside you, cursing breathlessly at the perfect fit. You groaned and desperately shifted your hips in silent hope that Bucky would fucking move. The stretching, the fullness, everything gnawed at your insides that were begging for release. For pleasure.

“F-fuck Bucky, please–!” He slowly, painfully, rolled his hips in small, dragged-out thrusts before pulling out of you with the most self-control you’d ever see from him and jamming right back into you.

“Fuck! Again! Please, again!”

He obeyed you; his hips gradually began to pick up speed, thrusting erratically into you.

“Gimme your arm,” he gritted between hissed curses. Your brain was on a three-second delay between hearing him and when you started to twist; too slow for Bucky’s liking, he growled, bending– and, in turn, stuffing himself until his base scraped your ass– to grab your arm, pinning against your back with a stern hold. The pain, the pleasure, the all-of-it fanned the flames inside you, growing hotter and hotter and threatening to implode.

“‘M so close, baby, so–” he gasped, “Fuck, where do I–?”

“Back,” you answered, muffled against the sheets. “My back, I– ah!” You clenched around him, locking him in place as the implosion erupted within you. White-hot flashes of intense pleasure shot through your veins like a lethal shock. You screamed. You trembled. You felt the most all-consuming release rock you to your core, all while Bucky drilled into you harder, faster, his own coil on the brink of snapping. His hips began to stutter into you while you rode your high, mewling when it was time to pull from you in a hurry, his fist furiously pumping the last few seconds. A pleasured cry came from his body as hot ropes shot onto you, painting your skin in warm bursts, cum pooling where your spine arced. He groaned. Fist slowing in pumps, he fell onto the covers next to you in a heap as you cautiously lowered your back.

For a minute it was just your labored breathing echoing one another. The smell of sex lingered in the air, the distant sounds of the streets below and within the quiet building were muffled by the walls of the bedroom. It felt like forever before the bed shifted. Bucky stood, fumbling around on the ground for his discarded briefs. Kneeling back onto the bed, you flinched at the suddenly soft touch of fabric as he cleaned you up, wiping your skin until satisfied. He tossed the boxers back onto the ground somewhere unseen, rolling over back to his place next to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips, biting it back as you flipped over to look at Bucky, who was already staring at you with a soft smile.

“Thanks.”

He shrugged in response. “Looks like we both needed it.”

You nodded. “Does this mean ’m still sleeping on the fuckin’ couch?”

“Hm. No, I’ll let you off the hook,” he said, grabbing the covers and pulling them over you both.

“I think I like being off the hook better than being on it.”

“Mhmm, sure,” he hummed. The covers shrouded you as he placed a metal hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb in soft circles as he pulled you in for another electrifying kiss.

1K notes · View notes

fureliselost · 6 months

Text

Dpxdc twin au in which Danny and Damian are fraternal twins

It's a classic "the Fentons misunderstood Danny's name and registered him as Daniel" but they accidentally transe Danny's gender and Danny never corrects them. Strangely, Danny likes it.

Eventually, the Fentons figure out, but Danny says he doesn't mind and they go with it.

(note: In this Danny is kinda nb/transmasc/gender weird, gender is neutral to him and he's fine with being called whatever, although male pronouns are the ones he uses the most)

Cut to Danny being dragged by Vlad to a gala (Vlad can be good but annoying in this idc) and Vlad is proudly displaying his "godson".

Duke: Hey, Damian, did you see the kid Vlad Masters brought?

Damian: I thought father said he wouldn't go into business with Masters.

Duke: He still attends for appearances. (Shrugs) Anyway, got any twins you didn't tell us about?

Damian: Yes.

Duke: 'Cause that guy looks just like—what?

Damian: I said I have a twin you don't know about.

Damian explains to the batclan that Danny was sent on a mission (as punishment) to keep track of the Fentons, since they studied "Lazarus Water". And then they forgot about it. The last time Damian heard of Danny was right before the accident.

On Danny's side, he knows Damian will be there before he goes — he's kept track of his twin's public persona (and vigilante life). He'd been doing a great job of not interacting and keeping from being spotted, as was protocol for if two agents ended up on the same field — he knew Damian wasn't an agent anymore, but assumed the protocol still applied. He knew, the moment Duke Thomas spoke to him and then went straight toward Damian, that he'd failed that protocol.

Now, Damian was trying to convince him to leave the League.

"Daniyah, there is another way."

"I know there is another way," Danny replied, "Except I told you about it for years and you never listened." During the years away from his family, Danny had missed them, his memory softened the feeling of anger at the way his twin always moulded his ideals to whoever ruled him. "We aren't supposed to be speaking, I'm still an agent, I'm breaking protocol by being here."

They'd sneaked off to a room along with Damian's siblings, who watched attently and and silently. "You don't have to be an agent anymore."

"Yes, I do." Danny spat, "You don't seem to have realized, but some of us don't have the privilege of being the favorite. I never had the privilege of being saved."

Damian scowled, "Being saved is not a privilege."

"It isn't," Danny agreed, "You're just forgetting that when you got freedom in reward, I got sent on a mission as punishment. You're still free and I'm still being punished, so I'm not sure you understand exactly what my position is." He moved to leave, "I'm not a damsel in distress, and I don't need your furry parade to save me."

#dp #eli rants #eli fics #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc

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catcze · 6 months

Note

not particularly a request if u don't want it to be but as a fellow wriothesley enjoyer I wanted to share this idea

fontaine is based off of france right? so the thought of wrio being able to speak french and absolutely using that to his advantage to be a flirt has been driving me insane. he would be INSUFFERABLE (especially if his s/o isn't fluent) and I'd be loving every second of it

(also love your works <3 it's the main fuel that's been making me so horrifically down bad for him)

OH ?!!? MY GOD ?!?! HEHAKJDJ FUCK I HAVE TO WRITE THIS I CANT NOT !! It's a little short and a little sweet, but i hope you like it!

(Translations listed at the end! I used google translate, so if there's any mistakes, please feel free to correct me!!)

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

Wriothesley has started to say things to you on the regular— but for the life of you, you can't understand. It starts first on a slow day. You're lounging in his office, reading a random book you've plucked from his shelves. He's just looking through some papers, doing nothing too important.

Then, Wriothesley glances up from his papers, lets his eyes fall on you. "Tu me rends si heureux."

And you're furrowing your brow in confusion, staring at him. It's a phrase form his mother tongue, that much you know. But you're not sure what it actually means. The way his smile is a bit too mischievous, you don't think that he intends for you to understand, anyway.

"I'm... sorry?" You ask. What else can you say? You're pretty sure from his insufferably smug expression that he's not going to tell you what it means anytime soon. At the very least, you're pretty sure he's not shit talking you to your face.

Your eyes narrow.

Probably.

He can see the question on the tip of your tongue, the suspicious glance you cast his way. Wriothesley just chuckles and goes back to the papers on his desk.

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart."

The next time, he does it as you're having dinner across from each other in the cafeteria. Your meal is halfway done, having been practically shoveled into your mouth. It probably paints an unflattering picture, but you're too hungry to really care. Resting on the table, he's stubbornly gripping your hand in his own, fingers intertwined. Even though it made eating much more difficult, Wriothesley would scowl and reach back for your hand whenever you tried to take it away, so you just considered it a lost cause.

Lost in filling your stomach, you're almost don't hear what he says.

"Je ne peux pas imaginer le reste de ma vie sans toi." Wriothesley mumbles, thumb stroking the back of your hand tenderly.

You narrow your eyes again, a silent question.

Wriothesley just smiles secretively and raises a hand to his mouth, miming zipping up his lips and locking it with a key, then tossing it away. He winks at you, and you roll your eyes. No answers today, apparently.

"Are you ever going to tell me what it is you've been saying?" you ask once you've swallowed your food.

"Mm. Maybe one day. If I feel like it." And he's grinning again— the cheeky one that he wears whenever he one-ups you, that showcases his dimples and his teeth. You kinda want to punch him, but it also makes you remember how handsome he is when he smiles.

"Fine," you grumble, sighing. You busy yourself once more with your food. "Keep your fucking secrets. See if I care." You do. A lot, actually. You're very curious now.

Wriotheley just smiles and lets you eat.

But he slips up, one evening. To be fair, it's late at night after a hard day's work. Both of you are exhausted— a tangled mass of limbs and sheets on your bed, both of you halfway asleep already.

Your head is cushioned on his chest, nose pressed against his collarbone, and his arms wrapped around you. Wriothesley's nose is pressed into the crown of your head, breathing in the smell of your hair. His breaths are deep and slow, and you can tell without even looking that his eyes are fighting to stay awake. You're no better, though.

Just before you nod off though, you can feel the brush of his lips against your hair. "Je t'aime. Je t'aime tellement," he says quietly, lips brushing the strands in affection. If you had just been the slightest bit more asleep, you might not have even heard it.

But while you may not be fluent in his language, may know little else aside from the most basic of phrases, you recognize that one. It's hard not to, when it's arguably one of the most popular phrases from his mother tongue. Je t'aime. I love you.

Something gooey finds its way into your chest, and the blood rushes through your body as you're overcome by the sheer sweetness of the man you're laying on. Slowly, you crane your neck up to face him, and can see the slight widening of his eyes, the quiet oh shit that runs through his head.

"Is that what you've been saying?" you ask, voice just as quiet as his. Wriothesley hesitates, arms tightening their hold on you.

"... generally, yes."

You smile gently, scooching up enough to press a kiss to his jaw, then to his lips, giggling when he leans down to make it easier for you. You bury your head into his neck then, resting your cheek against him. "I love you too, Wrio."

Translations:

Tu me rends si heureux. — You make me so happy. Je ne peux pas imaginer le reste de ma vie sans toi. — I can't imagine the rest of my life without you. Je t'aime. Je t'aime tellement. — I love you. I love you so much

#astronetwrk #「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #cw gn reader #genshin impact #wriothesley #also !! thank you so much for loving my works ily ♡♡

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angelkissiies · 1 year

Text

pretty little things

abby anderson x reader x ellie williams

cw : modern!au , hockey!abby , dealer!ellie , ditzy/girly!reader, mentions of drug use, polyamory, threesome, degradation, praise, use kink, dumbification, mind breaking, subspace, oral (f!receiving), slight mean!dom energy, other things ? maybe ? NSFR

wc : 5.1K

a / n : kinda went a little crazy with this one. my bad ! if you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, SQUINT

“Hi, Ellie.” You smiled, holding your skates close to your chest as you leaned against her door frame. You were no stranger to the girl, a long-time customer, but also a close friend. Those words didn’t quite equate to the situationship you found yourself in, considering that you were already taken by the captain of the hockey team, not that she minded.

The brunette bit back a smile, turning her key in the lock before pushing the door open, turning on her heel to look at you. “What did I tell you about pretty girl discounts? Bad for business.” She teased, waving you in with a playful eye roll, her words were empty- seeing as she found herself rarely charging you. “Usual?”

You practically skipped into her room, bubbling with excitement as you placed yourself onto her futon. “Actually, I'm not here to buy-,” You paused, recanting the statement before continuing. “Not yet at least.” You come here with a mission in mind, well, more so a request.

“What’s going on with you, doll?” She asked, raising an eyebrow as she pressed the door closed, dragging her conversed feet on the carpet as she came to sit in the chair adjacent to you. Her hair was tossed into a messy half-up half-down bun, making strands fall and frame her face as she leaned forward to assess the situation further, hands rubbing on the rough material of her jeans. “Is it Abby? Is she not cool with this anymore?”

It was something she’d come to fear, seeing as most girlfriends wouldn't be so willing to let their girl get with someone else, though the past few months had flown by issue free- Abby joining the two of you on outings when she was able to. Given the history they had with each other, it was tense but bearable, Ellie finding ways to push down her attraction to the burly blonde- though secretly hoping that she’d make another move. But, she never batted so much as an eyelash to the triangle you three had going on, it terrified Ellie at first- thinking that somehow Abby was going to find a way to scare her off campus, seeing as she knew about her dealing. That day never came, which made her suspicious of the way you were acting now.

You placed the skates down on her couch, leaning forward in a way that crinkled the pristine white of your uniform- making it look yellow in the sunlight. “Actually, it’s quite the opposite.” You hummed excitedly, eyes darting down to her lips momentarily before you corrected yourself, moving back up to meet her hazy eyes. “We talked and..” You trailed off, gauging her reaction.

“And? And what?” Ellie huffed, brows knitting together.

You giggled quietly, lowering your voice as if someone could hear you. “She wants to make it official. You, me, her. Together.” You gushed, an excited smile splayed across your blushed lips. It was something you’d been talking to the both of them about forever, knowing the residual feelings they both held for each other after their not-so-secret fling freshman year, so to say you were excited was an understatement. “We’re gonna have dinner at my place tonight, to talk it over some more.” You spoke the last part like an offer, not wanting her to feel obliged to come if she wasn’t ready.

Ellie gulped slightly, her lips parting as she searched for the words to say. It had been so long since she’d even considered the option of being in a polyamorous relationship with the two of you. It crossed her mind, of course, seeing as you tended to bring it up, but she didn't think it was possible- mainly the fact that she just assumed Abby hated her. It made the most sense in her mind, why wouldn't she hate her? Ellie was the reason she was outed as a lesbian, not that it was completely her fault but ‘let's fuck in the locker room and hope nobody comes in’ definitely had something to do with it. That was the end of their fling, the feelings just left to rot away- though in Ellie’s case, they did quite the opposite. They ended up growing into something untameable. “A-are you sure? That’s really unlike her-,” She began, only to be cut off by your hand coming to rest on top of her now sweaty one.

“She asked for this specifically, I didn’t bring it up.” You clarified, watching as her emerald eyes lit up at the statement, though she quickly tried to cover the reaction by looking away. You bit back a smile, squeezing her hand gently. “Please come?”

She nodded, almost too quickly, making herself dizzy as she stood with you. “Okay, yeah, I’ll come.” She spoke, giving your hand a small squeeze, shaking her head slightly as she tried to snap out of the anxious haze she’d dropped into. “Uh, anyways, you said not yet– should I bring a couple tonight? Is Abby,” She paused, words tightening as she said her name. “Uh, still cool with it?” She glanced towards the couch, where your skates rested, before grabbing them and holding them out towards you.

You gave her a smile, nodding as you took tiny back steps towards the door– the sharp beeping of your watch now telling you, you were late. “Yes, please. That would be great, Els.” You hummed, taking them and practically bounding to the door, sliding out before you could let yourself get more distracted. The small squeak of a ‘thank you’ echoed as you disappeared down the hall, leaving the brunette in silence.

What the hell?

The day passed unreasonably fast, Ellie doing everything in her power to slow it down, resorting to working on physics homework– which only made things worse. For once, she actually understood the lesson and suddenly she was left with a stack of finished papers and a dinner date in half an hour. Her anxiety shooting through the roof as she paced her bedroom, a pocket full of weed and throat full of bile– there was no way she saw out of this. As much as she wanted, needed, to believe that Abby really wanted her again– something inside of her was convinced this was still some kind of sick joke, a prank orchestrated in rebuttal to the hell she’d ended up putting the blonde through.

A buzz lit up her phone in the dim light of her room, the message reading ‘Are you on the way? I’m making dinner now. Abby’s gonna be getting here in like ten minutes, her practice ran over.’

Ellie’s heart leapt, pushing her into action, as her feet carried her into the living room– grabbing the nearest jacket and leaving her dorm in a rush of panicked puffs of breath.

‘Yeah, leaving now! See you soon, doll.’ She rushed, heart hammering as her shaky hands fumbled with the lock on her door, finally managing to click it into place before speeding off down the hall. It was a fifteen-minute walk to your place off campus, making her internally kick herself for waiting so long, now having to be the last one arriving– something she knew Abby would notice.

Fifteen minutes, which meant 900 seconds for her to change her mind and turn around.

899..

Your practice had gotten cut short that afternoon, allowing you to go shopping and gather all the necessities for dinner– for that you were thankful, so as you bustled around the kitchen in a pair of shorts and a– painfully small, as your mother would say– baby tee, it was all coming together just as it should’ve. The smell of the cake you’d started baking on a whim filling the entire house with a soft vanilla scent, making you hum in appreciation. It was a welcome distraction, allowing you to focus on something other than the growing anxiety in your tummy as you awaited the arrival of your girls.

As if clockwork, the front door lock snapped out of place and you heard the heavy footsteps of none other than Abby coming down the hallway. “Pretty?” She called out, a bag of sports equipment tucked under her arm. “Man, it smells really good in here.” She commented, turning the corner to halt in the doorway of the kitchen, letting the bag come down onto the floor with an obnoxious ‘thump.’ “Oh wow.”

You turned on your heel, a smile pulling at your plush lips as you beckoned her inside. “How was practice, Bee?” You asked, wiping your hand on the half apron hanging around your waist before reaching out to her– pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. “Missed you!”

The blonde chuckled, pulling you impossibly closer, resting her head atop yours. She released a tense breath she’d been holding all day, the situation at hand being the reason she’d been made to stay so late at practice. She’d been so in her head, she’d caused the team to fall behind, therefore she opted to stay behind for everyone and pick up– that usually being a team effort, but she took it on in an attempted apology. “Missed you too,” She sighed, strong arms holding you flush to her chest. “Practice was good, long is all.”

You nodded, pressing a tiny kiss to her chest as you pulled away to look up at her. “Are you sure you still wanna do this? We can wait if you’re not ready.” You reminded, taking in the lines of stress pulling at her eyes. “Ellie is practically shitting herself about this, so nobody would be upset.” You chuckled, alluding to the mess of a text you’d received just before Abby arrived– something about being stuck behind some college tour and being sorry for being late– not that you minded, you thought it was cute.

Abby perked up at your words, taking a small gulp as she imagined the girl on her way over. There was nothing else she wanted quite like to call this all off, the idea of actually getting a chance to tell Ellie how she felt sent a wave of nausea over her, it had been so long that she’d begun to fear that the girl had lost the feelings they shared– that was scarier than anything that could’ve come out of tonight. “H-how did she seem?” She asked, words falling upon deaf ears as a knocking echoed down the hall– making her stomach lurch.

“That’s Els!�� You giggled, tearing yourself from her grip. “Could you put something on the tv? So you guys won't be bored while I finish up?” You practically skipped down the hallway, slippers almost making you slip as you lost traction, quickly making a move to fix the flyaways that fell from behind your ears before jerking the door open to reveal a slightly damp Ellie. Your mouth fell open, reaching out to pull her inside as you noticed the heavy rain that had begun sometime between Abby’s arrival and Ellie’s.

She quirked a small awkward smile as she shuffled inside, instinctually kicking off her waterlogged converse. “Hey,” She began, glancing around inside for Abby before settling back in on you and the, now, contemplative look on your face.

“C’mon, there is absolutely no way you can stay in those clothes. You are gonna get so sick.” You tutted, practically dragging her from the door and to your bedroom across the hall. If there was one thing you knew about the girl, it was that her immune system reminded you of that of a victorian child– frail and pretty much useless. “You can borrow my clothes, okay?”

Ellie opened her mouth to object but decided against it as a chill entered her spine, not wanting to fall victim to another cold. Yes, the idea of wearing pieces from your– mostly– pink wardrobe was unsettling. But no, she wasn’t about to say that to you– she knew it would hurt your feelings. So she watched as you dug through a basket of folded clothes on your bed, freeing a (thankfully) non-cropped white shirt and a pair of cookie monster printed pajama shorts– pushing them towards her with a triumphant smile.

“These will definitely fit you! So, change and then meet in the living room? Abby’s putting something on to watch.” You hummed, stepping back to the door to give her some privacy. “If you need some new socks, you know where they are.” With that, you backed out, letting the door come to a soft close behind you.

The girl took a small breath, digging the baggy of pre-rolls from her pocket– thankfully double-bagged to account for the weather. “Shit.” She hissed, tossing them down on the plush white of your blankets– the contrast almost enough to make her laugh if she wasn’t so nervous. She shrugged herself out of her shirt, letting it fall to the ground with a moist plop. This was the worst day for this, not only was she late but she was now stuck wearing a pair of your pajamas– she almost threw up at the idea of Abby seeing her like this. Sure, it wasn’t her fault but as she wrestled with her jeans– she could've sworn her subconscious was laughing at her. “How the fuck did this happen.” She spoke into the empty room, sliding into the shorts you’d given her and letting them hang on her hips loosely.

She ducked down to peer into your vanity mirror, exhaling in a short puff before navigating to the door– hand beginning to gain a tremor. This was it. Leaving this room meant accepting whatever fate was awaiting her outside. “Shit, shit, shit.” She whispered as she opened the door, exiting the room and b-lining to the living room.

Abby was mindlessly scrolling through movies you’d saved to her watch list, hair now released from its tormenting braid. “Pretty, are you sure you don't need any help?” She called out, feeling useless as she just sat unmoving before the rapidly flickering screen. “I really don’t mi–,” Her words were cut short as she watched Ellie appear in the doorway. “Hi.”

She froze in her step, giving the blonde an awkward smile. “Hey, Abby.” She said simply, tugging the ends of the shirt down further to account for the lack of coverage on her legs as she glanced around for a place to sit– but only coming up on the cushion beside the burly woman. “Do you mind if i–?” She asked, nodding towards the space next to her.

“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead.” Abby responded, scooting over to give her some more space, tearing her eyes from the girls in fear she might see right through the ‘chill girl’ act she was putting on. Her hands came to rest on her lap, the remote almost completely forgotten, wringing her fingers together anxiously. “Nice outfit.” She joked halfheartedly, giving a small nod to the tiny cookie print poking out from under her shirt.

Ellie let a small laugh pull from her lips, the anxiety easing slightly as she found some common ground. “Yeah, thanks. It’s sesame street couture.” She clicked her tongue against her teeth, pulling her legs up to cross under her as she sat down. “Probably should’ve brought an umbrella but, you know.”

The blonde nodded, biting the inside of her cheek before responding. “Or, uh, you could call me.” She offered, glancing over towards the girl for a second– their eyes meeting. “I could pick you up next time.”

She felt her heart clench, a sudden urge to explode entering her stomach. “No, no. That’s okay, I don’t want to bother you.” She could’ve died on the spot, the breaking in her voice betraying her private thoughts, face flushing. This was so stupid, she felt so fucking stupid, here Abby was being the most relaxed person alive and she was stumbling over simple sentences just by being in the girls' vicinity.

“It’s no problem to me, really, just call.” Abby pushed, eyes shifting down to the girl's lips before she corrected herself— snapping back up to meet her eyes. Something inside of her felt familiar, an age-old ache that arose in her chest at the lingering glances and nervous laughter “Ellie, I—,”

“Abby—,”

They both paused, incredulous laughter falling from their lips at the coincidence.

“Sorry, you go first.”

“No, no. I insist.”

Ellie reached over to punch the girl playfully on the shoulder when her wrist was caught in Abby’s hand— the sudden change in her approach sent a lump into her throat. Did she do something wrong? Was she moving too fast? “Oh, I’m sorry,” she began, coughing slightly to dispel the tension that now surrounded them. “I didn’t mean to—,”

Abby couldn’t resist it anymore, using her grip on the girl's wrist to jerk her forward— their lips crashing together in a surprised mess of spit and teeth. She’d gone so long under the anxiety of being around Ellie that she’d begun to forget the longing she had for her. Though, upon seeing her it was like that spark had relit itself— sending an undying hunger into her stomach as she begged for just a single taste of what their love was. “Fuck, sorry.” She huffed, trying to pry herself away from the stunned girl before her.

The brunette watched, bewildered, as Abby inched away from her lips— hands moving up to secure in her black t-shirt. She pulled her back down and onto her lips, muscles relaxing as she finally realized how badly she needed her. This was what she’d been searching for— no amount of girls or parties or weed had ever filled the gaps in her chest like she could. She sunk back against the arm of the couch, hands moving fervently across the solid surface of her chest, lips bruising from the force of the kiss.

You’d finally taken the cake from the oven, its slight golden color making a pleased smile arise on your lips as you replaced the empty oven rack with a small casserole dish containing what was going to be the night's dinner. Your fingers hovered over the dials, lip pulling from between your teeth as you clicked it to 400 degrees, hoping that it could be done in thirty minutes.

The house felt a little too quiet all of a sudden, making your brows knit together as you considered the possibility that Ellie had left. Surely that wasn’t the reason for the silence, you’d have heard the door— right?

You abandoned your post in the kitchen, untying your apron and leaving it on the counter as you stalked into the hall— glancing down towards your bedroom door. It was closed, as it usually was, but it occurred to you that you hadn’t heard Ellie come out. Maybe she got cold feet, you reasoned, tiptoeing down to the room and giving the door a small knock.

Silence.

“Ellie?” Nothing.

You pushed the door open and took in the emptiness of the room, eyes landing on the pile of wet clothes she’d left on your floor before letting a soft breath of relief fall from your mouth. She was still here. You locked in on the baggy of pre-rolls you’d asked her to bring and your face lit up, bouncing over to the bed to pick them up before practically running down into the living room.

You’d not had a second to speak before your eyes widened, landing on the two girls in a messy battle for dominance. The sight sent an ache directly into your cunt, your legs unconsciously squeezing together as you tried to silently back out of the doorway. That was until you tripped over the edge of the carpet and landed— loudly— on the plush chair near the door.

Abby’s head snapped up, her eyes blown with a primal lust as her lips pulled back into a slight smirk. “Little pervert, aren’t you?” She teased, flushed face coming back down to peer at Ellie— who was catching her breath. “We have an audience.”

The brunette pushed herself up on her elbows to look at you, tongue darting out to wet her lips as she smiled. “Let’s not disappoint her then.” She spoke, eyes eating up the slight tremor in your legs as you clenched them together tighter. “Let’s give her what she wants.”

Your face burned bright red, the transparency of your actions making you feel dumb under their gaze. Yet, even as they tore their attention from you— divulging back into their desperate pursuit of each other, you couldn’t stop the ache growing in your stomach. “M’god.” You choked out, quiet enough to avoid drawing their attention off of each other. You could feel the warmth spreading in your panties, fabric sticking to your cunt uncomfortably as you rubbed your legs together.

Abby was right, you must have been a pervert. No normal person would get this turned on at the sight of two girls kissing. They weren’t even doing anything, just kissing— and here you were, shorts beginning to feel damp from how wet you’d managed to get just from the sight. Your hand inched closer to your waistband, unable to shake the overwhelming urge to touch yourself, feeling beyond filthy.

You felt eyes land back on you, your hand stopping just as your fingers broke the waistband and tore your mindless gaze from the flexing of Abby’s arms as they caged Ellie beneath her.

The girl had a devious look in her eyes, giving you a small nod of encouragement as she watched your fingers disappear under the fabric of your shorts— nipples erect under the exposing t-shirt, it was like you were made to be seen. “Fuck, she’s so pretty.” Ellie panted, scooting up to a sitting position, Abby’s knee putting delicious friction on her cunt as she shifted. “Look at her, Abby.”

Abby’s eyes lifted to take you in, a familiar flush in your cheeks as your fingers came into contact with your slick. “She gets wet so fast, bet she’s soaked.” She stated, fingers tensing in the upholstery of the couch. If it was up to her, she’d have you wedged between the two of them already, but it wasn’t just up to her anymore. It was up to them.

“You like seeing us together, silly girl?” Ellie asked, her hands coming to cup Abby’s chest, using her two fingers to roll her hardened nipples.

The blonde hissed, a broken moan slipping from her mouth as she broke her gaze from you and redirected it to Ellie. There was a moment of silent communication, a couple beats passing before Abby spoke. “Come here, pretty.”

You whimpered slightly, fingers slipping from your shorts as you scrambled to get back onto your feet. When Abby spoke, you listened. “Y-yes?” You said quietly, bright eyes glazed over with lust as you tried to soothe the pulsing in your stomach.

Ellie leaned back, opening up the middle seat to you, her body trapping you on one side— Abby’s trapping you on the other until you were flush against both of them. “How would you like,” she began, pushing your hair back from your neck— dipping down to press a couple opened mouth kisses to the burning flesh. “— to have us both, right now?”

Your eyes widened, your mouth opening and closing without a sound coming out. There was something so dizzying about the situation, making your mind leave your body as you glanced between the two of them.

“C’mon, pretty baby, gotta use your words.” Abby’s hand snaked between your legs, cupping the soaked crotch of your thin shorts, a sinful groan escaping her lips. “Just say it and you won’t have to think anymore, promise. We’ll take care of you.”

The feeling sent a pang of desperation into your cunt, causing you to nod fervently. “Yes, pleasepleaseplease.” You gushed, hands coming to ravel in Abby’s stretched t-shirt, mind swimming as she dipped down to catch your lips in a kiss.

You felt hands everywhere. Having the two of them touching you in sync was like winning some type of sexual lottery— feeling their hot touches burn into your skin. You shouldn’t have been so easy, so messy, for them and you knew that very well, but you couldn’t help the mindset that seeped in with the slightest glimpse of their dominance. It was a drug.

Ellie’s hand dipped under the hem of your shorts, and then your panties, before coming to drag two fingers over your swollen clit. She pulled her lip in between her teeth, stopping disgustingly pornographic noises from leaving her mouth as she felt her hand get coated in your arousal. “Good fucking god,” She scoffed, letting her fingers begin to massage the puffed ball of nerves. “You could be a pornstar, doll.”

Your hips bucked into her fingers, craving more of what she was dishing out. A small gasp caused you to break your kiss with Abby, the noise eliciting from the girl behind you stuffing two fingers into your cunt. Your walls contracted around her at the sudden intrusion, slick dripping down her palm as she drove her fingers in and out of your drooling cunt. “Oh, god, Els.” You whined, letting your face fall flush with Abby’s chest.

The blonde paused for a moment before a wicked idea came into mind, her body peeling itself from yours as she stood up by the couch— unbuttoning her jeans. Her fingers moved quickly, discarding them by the coffee table before winding her fingers in your free-flowing hair and pushing you down onto your hands. “Such a dumb girl,” she tsked, settling onto the couch in front of you with her legs propped open, fingers dragging down to pull her soaked panties to the side. “You think you can make me cum, pretty?”

You nodded quickly, chest heaving as you crumpled under the pressure of Ellie’s fingers in your pulsing hole. “C-can. I can.” You shuddered, feeling the girl's fingers curl into your g-spot. The sight of the girl in front of you was enough to make your mouth water, her fingers now spreading the sticky folds for you.

“Show me.”

Ellie could’ve cum herself from the sight. Your back was arched in a way she’d only ever seen in porn, mouth now latched onto Abby’s weeping cunt as you struggled to eat her out through your whiny moans. It was like a wet dream she’d conjured up had actually panned out, the sudden realization that it was real making her clench around nothing. “Fucking hell.” She groaned, grabbing your free hand to force down her own boxers— your curious fingers coming to press into her clit. “Goddamn it, gentle, stupid.” She hissed, her words coming out harsher than she intended— but considering the way you clenched around her fingers, she took it as a good sign. “You like that? Want me to be mean to you?”

Abby’s eyes rolled back at the desperate licks reverberating with moans, the sensation going directly to her clit. Her hands wound in your hair, hips grinding down onto your mouth. “Yeah, she fucking like that.” She choked out, legs trembling. “Stupid girl likes to be bullied, gets her wet.”

You were seeing stars, the combination of Abby’s arousal on your tongue and Ellie’s fingers in your cunt were enough to overstimulate you into an empty space of submission. You struggled to keep up on Ellie’s clit, faltering with every hard thrust of her fingers, though you kept being snapped back into pace with the buck of her hips against your hand— allowing yourself to be used by them for their pleasure.

“Just like that, doll.” Ellie rasped, guiding your fingers into her own cunt, practically riding them with how hard her hips were jerking.

You dipped your tongue into Abby’s slit, using your nose to nudge her clit, feeling her thighs tense around your head. It was her telltale sign that she was close, hips jerking up to grind against your face.

A sharp moan rolled off of her lips as she squeezed her thighs together, trapping you in her cunt as she came, her cum coating your mouth and chin.

Ellie ground down against your digits, feeling the band rising in her stomach, chasing the climax she so desperately needed— her slim fingers driving in and out of your cunt despite the floaty feeling filling her head as she grew closer to orgasm. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.” She groaned, her head falling back as she fucked herself on your fingers, cunt pulsing.

You felt Abby’s legs relax, her flushed face coming into view as she panted— eyes cast down to take in the sight of you. “Good girl,” she praised, raising her hand to wipe the cum from your lips with a swipe of her thumb, before bringing the digit to her lips and tasting herself— making you whine. “Keep being good ‘n make Ellie cum.”

You nodded, eyes completely blown as you curled your fingers into her spongy spot, tongue darting out to collect the slick remaining on your lips. The feeling of tightness grew in your tummy as your body trembled under the pressure, a bubbling sensation beginning to spill over as your fingers spasmed inside of her— mouth falling open as your cunt clenched her slim fingers in between soft walls.

Ellie gasped, thighs clenching around your hand as her band snapped, a gush of liquid soaking your hand as she leaned against the back of the couch slightly for support. “Oh, fuck.” She sputtered, hair sticking to her forehead with sweat.

You slumped slightly, arms giving out beneath you, making your face come to rest on Abby’s bare thigh as she rubbed your hair gently. You didn’t dare to speak, fearing the words would come out as meaningless babble, eyes fluttering with contentment as you felt Ellie’s fingers slip from inside of you.

“Wait,” Ellie spoke suddenly, making a show out of taking a deep inhale, her face going pale. “Does anyone else smell that?”

Abby perked up, adjusting her underwear as she took a deep breath. “Oh shit!” She half laughed, sliding out from beneath you to dart into the kitchen. Much to her dismay, her speculations proved to be correct— a thick trail of smoke coming from the oven. “Ellie, uh, grab my phone and order in... I don't think this is salvageable.” She called into the living room, using your discarded apron to waft the smoke out of the room, making sure to click the oven off.

Your eyes went wide, sense returning to you in the shock of the moment, searching around frantically as you dropped from subspace. “Dinner! I-I ruined dinner,” You began, looking up to the girl as she spun you around to face her— hands cupping your cheeks. “Els, I ruined it.”

She shook her head, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “No, doll. You didn’t ruin anything.” She affirmed, the pad of her thumb caressing your flushed cheeks. “You fixed something much more important.”

“I did?”

“Yeah, you did.”

4K notes · View notes

indecisive-capricorn · 28 days

Text

Priorities || Miguel O'Hara x Wife Reader

WARNINGS: Loads of fluff, a few mentions of blood, mentions of pain, slight angst, children, Mama O'Hara in action, Baby O'Hara, stubborn Miguel O'Hara, father Miguel O'Hara, etc.

SUMMARY: Miguel got injured after a mission and you insist for your stubborn husband to go to the medical center.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I got all of the medical information, especially the teething one, from the internet, so take it with a grain of salt since I didn't do much research on it. If it's wrong, please tell me and I'll correct it as soon as I can. :) And I know I'm a little late to publish this but I had to rewrite it twice because it kept on not getting saved.

MASTERLIST: Feel free to check out my other works! :)

"She won't like this," Lyla remarked as she observed Miguel who was focused on tying the wound on his arm with a bandage. He didn't respond to Lyla's words, leading her to point out, "That cut isn't small either. It'll bleed right through the bandage if you keep it for long."

Miguel merely grumbled in response, feeling discomfort from his wound, while Lyla studied his wounded arm, concerned about the potential of an infection.

"I'm only going to check on the recruits' reports for a minute," Miguel voiced under his mask, before narrowing his eyes at Lyla, "and don't tell her about this. She already has enough to worry about."

Lyla rolled her eyes at Miguel's command, but surprisingly, she stayed silent instead of pestering him to tell you about his recent injury. It was unusual for her since Lyla would usually insist for Miguel to update you about everything after he had finished his missions, especially if he got injured. However, Miguel made no comment about it, not wanting to jinx his luck or change Lyla's mind to not pester him about it like last time.

When Miguel went into his office, expecting to see a large pile of reports on his desk, he was instead met with the sight of you standing in front of his desk, holding the baby car seat that carried your sleeping baby boy. Miguel would usually be in awe at the sight of his little boy and his beautiful wife, and he would have done so at that very moment. However, it was impossible for Miguel to not notice the intense glare you were shooting at him, telling him that he had fucked up.

"Whoops! I forgot to tell you, she's already in your office," Lyla said casually, her tone nonchalant, as if she had known about your arrival and purposely chose not to tell Miguel. And he couldn't shake the feeling that Lyla did do it on purpose.

Miguel cursed in his mind and made a mental note to find a way to get Lyla to notify him of your arrival at HQ in the future, although he knew it would most likely fail due to how much she adore you over him.

"Miguel O'Hara," your voice was sharp and stern yet it was laced with concern as well, your eyes glancing back and forth between his face and his wound, "why aren't you at the medical center right now?"

"I need to check on the reports, cariño," Miguel stated, already expecting your disbelief and the scolding you were going to give him for his stubbornness. Before you could voice your protest to Miguel, he interjected, "I was only going to take them and check it in the medical center while they treat me."

That wasn't Miguel's original plan though. He had intended to put off going to the medical center for as long as he could to continue working, possibly only going to the medical center at the last hour of the day. That way, you wouldn't scold him for not treating his wound and ban him from going on missions for a while, which you have done in the past. You can be a really scary lady at times. Although he was very intelligent, Miguel tend to be obsessed with finishing his work at times to the point that he would dismiss his wounds and insist that they were only "small scratches".

They weren't just "small scratches".

And knowing your husband's tendencies, you found it hard to believe that he had planned to take the reports to the medical center with him instead of continuing his work in his office. Raising an eyebrow, Miguel was prepared for you to question him about it. However, instead of pressing further on the matter, you surprised Miguel by asking, "And have you eaten yet before your mission?"

"Of course I have—" Miguel paused mid-sentence, suddenly realizing that he hadn't eaten anything before the mission. In fact, the only thing preventing him from experiencing gastric pains was likely the peanut butter and jelly sandwich you had made for him that morning. However, at that moment, Miguel also realized the reason you had come to headquarters- he had forgotten to bring the homemade lunch you had packed for him before he left for work.

Tilting his head slightly to the side, he caught a glimpse of the lunch box you had brought for him on his desk, along with a small note containing your usual declarations of love for him, which never failed to bring him motivation. He cherished these notes, keeping them secretly tucked away in a special place.

"Mi vida, how long have you been waiting for me?" Guilt began to brew in Miguel's stomach, knowing that you wouldn't mind waiting for him to return from his mission just to catch a glimpse of him for a moment.

You shook your head gently. "I didn't mind waiting," you responded back, avoiding his question. The mission had stretched on for more than three hours, and with it already being around three o'clock in the afternoon, and the fact that you weren't one to delay meals, Miguel knew you had likely been waiting for almost three hours for him as well.

Before Miguel could respond, he felt something trickling down his arm. Looking down, he saw blood seeping from his wound. You quickly rushed to Miguel's side and inspected the injury, a frown forming on your face. "We have to go to the medical center now before it gets infected," you firmly said, taking no arguments from him. "The reports can wait. It won't be the end of the world, amor. Peter and the others will take care of it."

Miguel nodded and gently took the baby car seat from you with his uninjured arm, though you tried to protest, insisting that he was in no condition to carry anything and that you were perfectly capable of carrying baby Benjamin yourself.

As he carried Benjamin, Miguel felt a wave of guilt wash over him for forgetting to bring the homemade lunch you had worked so hard on to work, especially since you were barely getting enough rest lately from taking care of Benjamin who recently began having teething pains and became increasingly restless due to it.

Miguel had done his best to help soothe Benjamin's teething pain whenever he could, even taking a few days off work to care for him alongside you at home. However, he eventually had to return to work, as the Spider Society needed him physically for missions as well. At first, Miguel wanted to hide his injury from you to avoid adding more stress, but he knew you would find out about his wound eventually.

On the way to the medical center, Miguel made sure to be mindful of his steps, not wanting to wake Benjamin up. The last thing either of you needed was for him to wake up, especially since the poor baby was already struggling to sleep due to his teething pain.

When Miguel arrived at the medical center, the spider-healer in charge was slightly surprised to see him, knowing how stubborn he could be and how he sometimes insisted on treating his own wounds. However, it made sense to the healer when you arrived alongside him. The spider-healer pulled aside a chair for Miguel to sit on while they began treating the wound on his arm.

Throughout the treatment, Miguel remained quiet, only grunting slightly as the healer worked. You watched the healer's movements carefully, placing a comforting hand over Miguel's to soothe him. A moment after the healer was finished stitching Miguel's wound up, Benjamin began to cry from the baby car seat, slowly waking up from his slumber.

Miguel's eyes softened as he watched you lift the crying baby from the car seat, cradling him close to your chest. You rocked Benjamin gently back and forth, murmuring soft words of comfort as you rubbed his back soothingly. Benjamin's cries gradually softened, feeling warmth from his mother's embrace.

"Did you have a nightmare, Benji?" You asked the seven month old in a gentle tone, as he lifted his head from your chest, his eyes looking around his surroundings until he stopped at Miguel. With a soft noise, Benjamin leaned towards his father, seeking comfort in his arms.

Miguel's heart swelled with warmth at Benjamin's action, and he carefully accepted him into his arms, mindful of his stitched arm. Despite the caution, you could see Miguel's eyes sparkle with love and adoration as he held Benjamin close.

Miguel chuckled affectionately as Benjamin grabbed a handful of his dark hair with his tiny hands. "Did you miss me, tesoro?" he asked Benjamin, his voice filled with warmth. In response, Benjamin babbled happily, his tiny hands still tightly gripping Miguel's hair.

"I'm sorry for not telling the truth to you, mi amor," Miguel apologized to you sincerely, his voice laced with regret. With Benjamin now distracted by the toys you had brought, Miguel took a moment to express his remorse, gazing into your eyes for forgiveness.

He reached out, gently grasping your hand, his thumb rubbing over your knuckle in a comforting gesture. "You were already stressed with Benjamin, and I didn't want to worry you any more with my injury," Miguel explained softly.

You sighed, expressing your concerns gently but firmly. "Miggy, I'm always grateful for how hard you work for our family, and I understand how important your role is in the Spider Society. But I sometimes get worried that you're not taking care of yourself properly at work like you used to, especially after what happened today," you frowned, knowing that Miguel's old work habits were hard to shake off.

As you intertwined your fingers with his, you continued, your voice filled with genuine care, "You getting injured worries me a lot, but what worries me more is the way you brush off your injuries and continue pushing yourself as if nothing happened."

Worry was evident in your eyes. "Please promise me that you'll prioritize your health over your work and treat your wounds properly after missions. And if you're struggling to remember to eat and drink, I can come by here everyday and remind you about it. I'm still on maternity leave, remember?" You added with a reassuring smile, showing him how much you care about his health.

He squeezed your hand gently. "I remember, and you're right. I promise to take better care of myself for you and Benjamin," He leaned in to press a tender kiss to your forehead, feeling grateful for your love and care.

Benjamin, ever the adorable child he is, wiggled his way between you and Miguel, continuing to babble joyfully. With chubby fingers, he repeatedly pointed to his cheek, a clear invitation for you and Miguel to leave kisses.

"Do you want a kiss too, Benji?" you cooed, your voice filled with affection and awe at the little boy's action. Without waiting for an answer, you peppered Benjamin with kisses all over his face, earning delighted squeals of laughter from him.

Miguel couldn't help but chuckle, staring at you and Benjamin with a smile, as he was silently thankful for the chance to have his own family again.

#atsv miguel #spiderman #marvel #imagines #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 99 #spiderman x reader #miguel 2099 #miguel atsv #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #fluff #spiderman fluff #miguel o hara fluff

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magerightsmagefights · 3 months

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I know people tend to forget Wyll a lot in this fandom (I wonder why. What Could Possibly Be Different. Can you spot the difference?/s) but I'm genuinely surprised at the lack of Durge x Wyll content. Especially if you're going Redeemed, there's that inherent flavor of "My lover cannot know the truth, I am horrible and they would hate me, they would be correct to hate me." And with Wyll it's just... so juicy, he's so pure and shining, and Durge is so filled with filth and misery that there's barely a person left underneath.

Idk, as a femme romance reader I've spent so many years reading the "love redeems" arc where a FMC plays beauty to an MMC beast, in every genre, medium, budget, etc. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but beauty and the beast as a story structure has never done it for me.

until it's reversed, apparently, because Wyll as the beauty to Durge's beast needs to be injected directly into my veins like yesterday. All the other companions are good and sweet, don't get me wrong, but their reactions are coded like 'i accept you,' where Wyll to me comes off much more as 'we will heal you.' He doesn't have any funny little quips about you trying to bite him, no innuendos, no "I Will Put You Down" a la Laezel, he's just... so good, and he believes in your inherent goodness, he so easily sees "you" and "your urges" as wholly seperate entities he would step between if he could.

Speaking of which!! The coronation scene, when everyone finds out you're Bhaalspawn? I never see anyone talking about Wyll's reaction compared to other companions getting angry (even Dark Shadowheart will yell at you) because Wyll seems to be the ONLY PERSON who immediately separates you(the person he knows) from you(the person you used to be). Astarion isn't angry, he even appreciates your scheme freeing him from Cazador, but he also kinda falls into the whole "I will talk to you as if you are the exact same person who did these things, this is Your True Nature and I feel positive about it."

Wyll's reaction feels like the only one saying "You WERE that," instead of "You ARE that." It also feels like the only one that kinda-sorta acknowledges Durge's actual amnesia, because he doesn't treat this revelation like a betrayal the way the other "good" companions do. They be saying "The real evil was hiding within our ranks all along" like wym hiding? Durge didn't know either, how tf they supposed to tell you?

Wyll doesn't even blink. Once he knows what you are, his No.1 priority is reassuring YOU about it. The fact you're Bhaalspawn isn't a betrayal; it's a Horrible Burden and he's sorry you have to bear it, but there have been others like you who were good, who overcame, and your blood isn't who you are. His first instinct is to offer hope, to reassure you that there's a way out, he believes so hard that your urges are a defeatable enemy and he's ready to fight them with you.

(I also fall into the Durge And Gortash Fucked camp, and I cannot overstate the tastiness of Durge waltzing into the coronation of their ex, the Worst Man Alive, while bringing along their new boyfriend, the Best Man Alive)

Idk, I've just never engaged in a romance where I played the part of the Beast. As much as people rag on pure, princely archetypes, I don't actually see them that often. I genuinely don't remember the last time I read/saw a male lead behave like Wyll, but I've seen plenty of Astarions, Fenrises, Rhysands, etc. Romance loves a fixable MMC, but so rarely an MMC who wants to do the fixing.

Anyway. Justice for Wyll or whatever. I can only cross my fingers that future DLC will include more romance content, because we all deserve to have a Beauty for our Beast sometimes.

#bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate spoilers #the dark urge #bg3 durge #durge bg3 #wyll ravengard #wyll x durge #bg3 wyll #baldurs gate wyll #durgewyll

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moonydustx · 30 days

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Can I be your favorite?

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Summary: In search of information, Law meets an archaeologist who brings all his insecurities and jealousies to the surface. Warnings: porn with practically no plot, explicit content, smut, jealousy, possessiveness, almost declarations of love. Law and F!Reader already have a "relationship" (depending on your point of view, it could even be part of A not so funny story). Despite bringing some canonical details, it diverges a little from the story. A/N: a few days ago an edit with this song appeared on my fy and it just stuck in my head and this idea came to me. Minors do not interact | +18 only

Requests open | one piece masterlist

Law seemed increasingly interested in the search for the Poneglyphs. It was the third island you visited that he knew where to find certain information. This time, only you and him disembarked from Polar Tang, the justification was that it would be something quick, just finding an informant.

You just didn't expect such information to be with an archaeologist. A beautiful, blonde and hot archaeologist. Law had already told you about her and how fame preceded her, how she liked to use men to her advantage and pleasure. That immediately set off an alert in your mind.

"What is she doing here?" was the first thing the woman said when she saw you entering the bar, which was the meeting point. "From what I remember, I said I would exchange the information in exchange for you coming alone, Mr. Surgeon of Death."

"You'd trade the information for money, Arine." he corrected her. "She's the strategist of my crew, I need her in these types of meetings."

The woman turned her nose in your direction and took Law by one of her arms, leading him into the bar. Just by the atmosphere of the place you knew that the woman had a certain influence there. Glances – both drawn and protective – danced around Arine. In a way, it made you feel out of place, it was as if you had the wrong clothes, the wrong hair, everything wrong, just a mere figure following the two of them.

At one of the tables further back, the woman sat down, almost merging her body with Law's, forcing you to sit on the opposite side. You even tried to avoid it, but her meek tone of voice and the hands that made a point of touching Law in every gap made a gray cloud of jealousy appear in you. As much as you ended your nights in the captain's room and were woken up by his kisses, you knew that nothing had been established. He was free to even be with the disgusting blonde in front of you.

Law, on the other hand, noticed the ignorance of the woman in your direction. The unwanted touches on him, Arine's provocative voice, but the information she brought matched what he was looking for, besides the fact that if he disagreed with the woman and ended up getting into an argument he would be putting both of you at risk.

"So..." the blonde's voice sounded more irritating than usual. "I don't believe you came just looking for information. The island is huge, I believe there is a favorite thing for you to do." even from across the table, you could see her throw her legs over Law's. "Or someone's favorite."

"My favorite thing here is you and the information you can give." he spoke harshly, immediately noticing the unfortunate choice of words.

That was the limit for you. Okay, there was no way she could know the history between the two of you, but you weren't obligated to watch Law make the slightest effort to get out of that situation. Your hands slammed harder than you expected against the table as soon as you stood up, attracting both of their attention.

"I'm going to get a drink." your eyes remained fixed on Law's and soon you turned your back to both of them.

Law could read the jealousy in your eyes as soon as you walked away, he knew he would need to invest his time in correcting it. He watched Arine get up and call you. He could have sworn you would kill the woman right then and there.

"You there." Arine poked your shoulder. "Get a drink..." she started, speaking louder so everyone would think everything was okay. "And get out of here. I believe that my Law is not very comfortable in the presence of his employees. You are hindering my efforts to taste him."

"What?" your voice came from your lips in disbelief. It wasn't possible that you were listening to that, as much as you wanted to finish her off, your priority was to help Law with the Poneglyphs. "Yes ma'am."

You turned your back on her and went to the bar, ordering a dose of whatever strong shit they could offer you. You wanted to disappear, just erase your mere and insignificant existence at that moment. A hand touched your waist and you looked hopeless. Just another asshole in that place.

Law watched Arine return, with a malicious smile on her lips and throw her body on top of him again. His body tensed with hatred at each touch from the woman. You wouldn't touch him like that in public, why would she have any right?

"Where do we stop?" she asked and before Law could respond, he watched a man approach you and touch your waist.

"I need to go." Law started to get up, but was stopped by the woman.

"Don't worry about your pet, my man will take good care of her. Even simple little things like her deserve a good night." Arine said close to his ear. "I have a hotel a few meters away, we can have our good night there."

Law only lasted a few seconds of the woman speaking, while the scene unfolded in front of him. The man remained glued to you, his hand remained on your waist but the disgust was clear in your eyes. Law was tired of it. He turned towards Arine and, pretending to fall for her charms, he ran his hand down the woman's leg.

"Is he your trusted man?"

"The best I have." she replied, proud of finally making Law give in. "Your little pet will like it." His hands went down to Arine's calves and as soon as he reached the small dagger he had seen hidden in her boot, he pulled it out and stuck it on the table. Soon after, Law allowed his powers to create a blue beam on his hand and the sharp object.

"Get him away from her now." Law snapped. Anyone watching from afar would never have imagined that he was about to kill a man. "I'd hate to have this show up instead of his necklace."

The woman whistled and snapped her finger twice and the man released you immediately, to Law's relief. Maybe you weren't the only person who let yourself be consumed by jealousy.

"You value your pet too much."

Law took the knife from the table and brought it to the girl's throat, noticing that the bar immediately stopped to watch them.

"Keep her out of your damn mouth." Law threw the dagger on the table and took out a small bag of berris from his pocket. "Our treaty ends here."

"It is a shame." the woman handed him a small card. By damn irony, it was the same hotel you two were at. "Come see me if you change your mind."

Law left the woman talking to herself and looked around the bar. You were gone. He considered returning the dagger to the woman's throat and asking if she had anything to do with it, but something told him no. The only answer he had was that you had gone to your base point, the hotel.

After flirting, asking you to go somewhere else and even threatening you because the man had a "job to do", just like that the man let you go. Trying not to understand the situation and moving away from that madhouse that was the bar, Arine and all the idiots involved, you returned to the hotel.

The first thing you did was take off your shoes. Why get ready for a damn meeting? Just Arine's presence made it clear that you were no match. You couldn't stop thinking about where Law could be, what the two of them could be doing. "My only favorite thing here is you" Law's words were still echoing in your mind when you heard a few knocks on the door.

Without bothering to think, you opened it, finding Law apparently without much patience.

"Are you ok?" he asked, entering the room.

The hurt consumed you and seemed to suffocate the angry words that surfaced and died in your lack of courage. But despite everything, he was still there and not with her.

"May I ask why you're pouting?" Law closed the door behind him, watching you cross the room and sit on the bed.

The sight of you with your arms crossed and a pout - just like a tantruming child - was cute but it was clear that something was bothering you and Law knew exactly what it was. He just wanted to press your buttons and see how far your hatred for Arine would go or if something had actually happened and he would need to start a hunt.

"I'm not pouting." As much as you wanted to go on a silence strike, you knew it would be immature - and maybe even wrong.

"Now you're doing even more." a barely audible laugh left his lips. The man placed Kikoku against the door and started to watch you. "I think I have a hunch what this is about."

"Of course, dear Arine must have told you." the venom in your voice gave away everything Law needed to know.

"Why did you disappear? Did that idiot do something?"

"I hated that place." you just responded, finding Law looking at you in a worried way.

"Not what I asked."

"Long story short, he wanted to fuck me, but I'm not that good."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Captain, I don't want to talk about it." You stood up, heading towards the door but a hand stopped you from continuing. "Besides, you should be wasting time with Arine."

"Are you really going to fall for her conversation?"

"I heard you." you just said. "Your favorite girl, in fact, she's the one who asked me to leave. You wouldn't feel comfortable with her "tasting" you in front of your employees." you imitated her tone of voice.

The cynicism in your voice as well as the bright line in the waterline of your eyes created an alert in the doctor's mind. Perhaps Arine's manipulation had gone too far, Law was beginning to consider it a bad idea to have given in - or at least pretended - that the woman's charms didn't even come close to what you did to him. His hand let go of yours, only to let you reach the door. Before your hand touched the doorknob, it was covered by Law's, which locked the door. He needed to make it up to you and he didn't want to be interrupted by it.

"Please don't do that. I hated her as much as you did." he turned you around, coming face to face with you. "There's no need to be jealous. What can I do to make it up to you?"

"I don't know." you let your face fall to the side his hand touched you, appreciating the small gesture. Law could manipulate you however he wanted, you would gladly accept it. "I just wanted to be pretty like her. You know, be your favorite."

Law could have replied that you were the most beautiful woman there - and for him, in all the seas, but he preferred other methods to convince you. Not allowing much time for you to continue mumbling, his body pressed against yours, his hand cupped your face and his lips collided with yours. His tongue passed under your lips, causing you to open them and give Law space to take you. It was like a fight for air and to ward off all those bad feelings that night had brought you. Impetuously Law invaded your mouth, purred against your lips, finally after that horrible night he could take you.

Your hands reached his shirt and unbuttoned it button by button, throwing it to some deserted corner of the small room. Wetness accumulated in your intimacy as you allowed your hands to pass over Law's abdomen, going down until you found a hard volume. Your fingers began to press against him, drawing small patterns on the tip of his dick.

"Do you want to taste it? You know, only you can." he whispered, hearing a please escape your lips. "Get on your knees."

You promptly followed his orders. Feeling your hands itch, you placed them on his thighs and allowed your lips to run along the coarse fabric of his jeans. In your field of vision you can see two tattooed hands unbuttoning the piece without any rush. Law watched your lips change the fabric of your jeans for the black underwear that covered them.

"Are you that eager?" again, the same low tone, the same teasing behind his voice.

His cock appeared in your field of vision and in a slow counterpoint to your anxiety, your tongue just slowly slid along its entire length, from base to tip. One of your hands reached the base, giving you space to cup his balls in your lips. Law's hand that was holding him against the door went down to his cock, taking it from your lips.

"Don't be mean." He pointed the tip at you, sliding it over your lips. "Do you remember how to ask it to stop?" He took one of your hands and placed it on his leg again. Two beats: a pause for breath, three beats: stop immediately.

You just nodded, opening your mouth and batting your eyelashes in Law's direction. The innocent look, the anxiety that was clear in you, the invasion was sudden, Law had already put up with too much of your provocation. His hand joined your hair, pushing you against the wall as he thrust deep into your throat, starting slowly and quickly increasing the speed.

"Is that what you want?" the tattooed fingers got even more tangled in your hair "It's only yours, take it all in"

The air seemed increasingly rarefied and your eyes stung with some involuntary tears at the same time you could feel your panties getting even wetter and your voice producing involuntary moans, your body reacted to the grunts coming from the man above you. Your eyes met Law's and you found one of the most beautiful scenes you had ever seen. A little sweat accumulated on his face, his chest rose and fell euphorically and his eyes focused on you. As if it were still possible, Law, noticing your gaze lost in theirs, stuck his dick even deeper into your throat.

"Fucking beautiful." he murmured, taking his dick out of you and watching you catch your lost breath. With his hands still stuck in your hair, he pulled you to your feet again. "The most beautiful woman, all mine."

One of the few remaining tears ran down your face and you felt it burn even more when Law slid his tongue over your cheek, licking it and erasing it from existence. All mine his voice whispered again. Leaving his clothes - and consequently you - behind, Law walked to the bed, sitting down and looking at you from afar. Even with the distance you could still see Law lost after you sucked him. His eyes danced over your body.

"Come here, take off your clothes for me, please." damn it. Hearing Law ask you for something silly, eyes still shining from watching you suck him was a little too much for you. You walked over to him, stopping between the man's legs. The first thing you took off was your blouse, followed shortly by the skirt and panties you were wearing.

"And you still ask if you're my favorite." Law murmured something that you suspected was just his thought, still trapped in a trance.

"Am I?" you used the same teasing tone he usually used, as he had just a few minutes ago. Your legs passed through Law's body, wrapping around his waist. Using equal strength for both of you, Law pulled you and lay down on the bed. “Law…” your warning tone appeared as you saw him pull you away from his dick, towards his face.

"My favorite, my only, the most beautiful..." he listed unpretentiously "What do you need to understand?" He started kissing your thighs, which were already around his cheeks. "Let me prove it to you."

Law pulled your hips down, your pussy falling over his lips. You had to suppress a scream when you felt his tongue travel all over your vulva, stopping at your clit. His hands settled on your thighs as you tried to roll against him, looking for more friction. The suppressed screams soon began to escape your lips in low moans every time you felt him slide his tongue inside you.

Law was usually methodical, he took as long as he needed to make you cum but now it was different. You could feel your even wetter pussy while Law grunting beneath you as squeezed you even tighter and sucked your clit without worrying about the mess made on his face. The precipice seemed just seconds away when he stopped, taking you off of him and placing you back on his hips. His lips were dripping with your honey as was his chin and your legs were still shaking from the orgasm that was behind you. Law's hand went up to his hair and took off the last piece of clothing on his body: the hat, placing it on your head.

"You know you are mine, just mine, just as I am yours." his hands slid over your breasts, going down and pulling your hips, fitting your entrance to his cock. "Ride me, take what's yours."

"Fuck Law." you moaned softly, feeling every inch of him fill you.

You could feel wet, but it was never enough when Law entered you. When you reach the base of his dick, you can feel him grunting along with you, his hands tightening the skin of your ass even more as his hips press into you.

You started slowly, your hands resting on Law's chest while your hips rose and fell millimeters, not wanting to move away from the feeling of being filled by him, of having every inch of your pussy filled. As the speed increased, your moans began to echo throughout the room and one of your hands involuntarily went up to your mouth, covering it.

"No, babe." Law pulled your hand and, with the other, held your two arms behind your back. "We're not in Polar Tang, I want to be able to hear you scream, at least today."

His feet planted themselves on the bed and Law began to move his hips against yours. He thrust hard, the noise of bodies coming together was as loud as your moans and you could also hear the words coming out louder and louder from his lips.

"Your little pussy is squeezing me so much, so good." He used one of his hands to find your breast, squeezing the nipple between his fingers and hearing you scream.

"Harder, please love." the word that escaped your lips worked as fuel for Law.

The hand holding your hands let go and your body fell against his chest. One of Law's tattooed hands got tangled in your hair while the other circled your back and attached itself to your waist. Sweet whispered nothings and screams of pure pleasure echoed throughout the room, leaving your lips and falling into Law's ears like pure delight.

"Fuck, cum for me babe" Law's lips found the sensitive spot below your ear. "I want to see my girl soak me."

The words were enough for you to feel your vision turn white and your body soften in Law's arms, while you used his name as a mantra. Without waiting for you to recover, Law held you on his lap, still inside you and took you to the nearest wall, starting to thrust into you mercilessly again.

"It's too much, please."

"Just a little more." Law murmured, his face stuck in the back of your neck, biting every piece of exposed skin. "Just give me one more."

"Damn, right there." Your voice was thin and broken, almost inaudible. Law hit the right spot inside you and in your limited field of vision, you could see the red tone on Law's skin just below your nails. "L-Law! I'm feeling something... Damn Law!"

Law could feel his dick getting wet as he watched you having a squirt that from your reaction he believed was the first time. His name sounded like the hottest thing he had ever heard and when he saw your pussy gushing he couldn't control himself and came, filling you with his seed, that would be a worry for later.

"I-I..." you started to speak to even that seemed too much for you, and you just let your head fall on his shoulder.

Feeling your body weak, Law guided you back to the bed, allowing you to lie against his body. The tattooed hands drew something invisible on your skin and your breathing was labored. "The wall... the neighbors..." you tried to list, still feeling weak. When you looked up to see if Law was listening to you, you found him smiling mischievously. "What are you thinking?"

"I heard we have an interesting neighbor here at the hotel." the pieces fell into place, making your face burn in embarrassment.

"She's going to hate me, even more."

"If it helps you, she already hated you." Law explained, caressing your cheek. "In the bar, she was the one who told that guy to talk to you."

"Ah, that doesn't make me feel any better. You mean a guy only hit on me because she asked?"

"What does that mean?" He seemed indignant and you quickly tried to correct yourself.

"I was already feeling ugly, that didn't make it much better."

"Do you need one more to understand how beautiful you are?" you knew exactly what Law was telling you about and you felt your face burn with shyness. "She's just a frustrated person, don't worry about anything she told you."

"Sour, damn blonde." you mumbled, earning a laugh from Law, who whispered your name softly, catching your attention.

"You know you're the only one, right?" he asked and you nodded. "And that you are amazing and beautiful."

"You're also the only one." his eyes followed your smile, as you snuggled into him. "And incredible, beautiful, strong. If I keep listing them, I'll end up putting you to sleep." you laughed, seeing Law acquire a more serious expression. "A coin for your thought"

"I-I... I lo..." he could remember what you had called him, he knew very well the feelings he had for you, but it seemed so difficult to bring them to the surface.

He still remembered when he allowed himself to actually feel that way for someone and watch those people leave him. Law knew he couldn't bear to see you go through the same thing. Taking him out of his daydreams and the speech stuck on his lips, you reached out to reach Law's forehead and place a small kiss, before then cuddling up to him again.

"I know. And so do I." you had your own fears, your own traumas and fears, you understood his fear.

For now it would be better this way, if your love remained between the two of you.

#fiction #reader insert #one piece #no use of y/n #requests open #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law #law x you #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #mdni #smut #trafalgar one piece

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primofate · 3 months

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Hello! I love your works! 💕 For request how about some fluff with Kabukimono/Kunikuzushi who wasn't abandoned by Ei and he lives in her temple? The reader is personal maid that takes care of Kuni and she has a lil crush on him ? Kuni is not aware of warm feelings he feels for her too! If it's not in your taste that's okay! I wish you and your family to always be healthy!

Oh God, this is so interesting I might get carried away. This is the problem with me and requests I find interesting. I just spend all my time working on ONE request lollllll. I'm so weak, I apologize.

Thank you for sticking with me, by the way. Appreciate the support.

Premise:

Kunikuzushi calls Raiden by "Ei" and sees her more of a sister than a "mother"

He houses the electro gnosis and it hasn't been taken away

Reader is a vision holder, but is not a fighter. More of a healer/support type of person.

He has his own quarters in Tenshukaku but for the purpose of the story his main home would be Shakkei Pavilion

Reader is not the only maid/servant he has.

I'm assuming that Kunikuzushi is way softer than "Scaramouche", but inherently there's still a hint of mischief and trickery in his ways.

Warnings:

I think I may have taken this too far and she's hardly a personal "maid" anymore >_> sorry I hope you still like it.

Story and headcanons start here:

The traits of a Kunikuzushi in love

Does not treat you like a maid.

"What're you doing?" he asks, eyeing the tea you place on the table, then darting up to meet your confused expression.

"...Giving you your daily tea?" You squeak out. You'd been new to the job. Probably a month or two in, and this was one of the daily routines that you had to do and prepare for. Every day was a different blend of tea, sometimes he requested for certain ones. You didn't think there was anything different about the way you did things today.

"Yes, thank you," he adds, but still stares straight at you. "But I meant why are you leaving?"

You blink. It feels like an eternity of silence passes for you didn't have an answer, but he fills it with his voice once again. "Sit down and join me, there isn't anything else for you to do, is there?"

Awkwardly, you slide onto the free zabuton adjacent to him. He calls for another maid, who enters with her head bowed. "...Kindly get another teacup for Y/N,"

"Oh, no, that's alright. I don't need--" you start, but the maid exits and Kunikuzushi abruptly starts talking again. "Ei says that you were hired to be my personal maid,"

You shift in your seat, still not certain about what you're supposed to do in this situation. "Yes, Young Master,"

His face curls into distaste, something about the title makes him uncomfortable but he doesn't protest. "In that case there isn't anything else for you to do except to cater to me, correct?"

You only think for a second. "...That would be...technically correct, yes,"

He hums and continues with what he was doing beforehand, practicing brushstrokes with black ink and parchment paper. "Then join me for tea, and let me know if my handwriting has improved,"

2. Gets irritated when you're on a day off

"Is there something wrong?" Ei asks, her eyes still closed. She peeks an eye open to look at Kunikuzushi's slightly annoyed expression and furrowed brows, then closes her eye again.

"Not at all, sister," but his tone is flat and he had not taken another sip of the tea served with his breakfast today.

There's a few seconds of silence followed by a hum from the Raiden Shogun. "...Then what is the ominous presence coming from your person, little one?"

There's a soft grunt, followed by shifting, a small sigh and a sort of huff. Ei is surprised every day by how much expression Kunikuzushi shows. She had always thought he was fragile, but perhaps he was slowly building his own personality. She finally opens her eyes when she hears a sort of mumble directed at her, she asks for it to be repeated again, as she hadn't heard it clearly.

"...This isn't how Y/N makes my tea," He looked to be a spoiled prince at that moment and it takes a lot for Ei not to break out into a chuckle at his statement.

"There's no way for them to always be around you, Kuni. Y/N deserves to rest from time to time," she states, starting on her own breakfast. There he goes again with that tiny huff, but he doesn't complain more, and opts to keep his mouth shut.

3. is more energetic when you're around--and his sister finally notices

The training session started rather early today. Though you sat on the sidelines watching Ei and Kunikuzushi battle it out, you had gotten used to the clash of electro against electro by this point.

At the beginning it was rather frightening, the sheer amount of power the two of them combined had. You were once scared to be struck by lightning on accident, now it was almost comforting to be around.

"You seem to have more reserves of energy on certain days," Ei exclaims as she sheathes her sword to mark the end of training. You might have imagined it, but you thought her eyes flick over to you for the fastest second.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, sister. It's just like any other day," Kunikuzushi slightly pants, catching his breath. You take that as a signal to stand and bow, then entering the training ring with a cloth in hand.

You scurry over next to him, and offer the cloth for him to take. He takes it with a slight smile, "Thank you, Y/N," and you nod in response.

"I have your change of clothes ready at the hot springs," you say and he always feel a sense of relief that you've got things under control and ready for him, specially after a long training session.

He thanks you again, and excuses himself. "I'll see you outside then, I won't be long," he promises, despite the fact that you've always told him he can take his time to freshen up.

He disappears first, and you bow towards the Raiden before turning to follow him.

"Y/N," the Raiden calls out to you just as Kunikuzushi leaves the room. You stop in your tracks and turn back around. You almost know what she's about to say.

"...Don't forget, what you were tasked to do, when the time arises," The Raiden whispers. There's a sort of melancholy in the way she says it but a definite determination in the way you answer.

"Of course, your grace,"

4. Feels a sense of insecurity when someone else shows interest towards you.

Despite your title being a "maid" you didn't wear the same purple uniform that all the servants were made to wear. You were still in uniform, but it was a rather official looking garb than what most had.

"It'll be a long meeting today," Kunikuzushi warns you. That was part of your duty now, tagging along wherever he went, and it was just something that he specifically asked you to do.

Diplomatic meetings were held from time to time, this time with a clan head. He was younger than you thought, with a good head on his shoulders. It was something about the import and export goods in the port of Ritou, something that you weren't concerned with, and something that you usually tuned out while waiting for the meeting to end.

Kunikuzushi doesn't quite know why he subjects you to such boring tasks. You could've stayed back at the Pavilion, but what exactly would you do there. It was just a different type of boring.

Contrary to what he thought, you hadn't found it boring at all. In a sense it was your job to watch after him and his needs, and so this was all part of your required tasks.

When the meeting was adjourned everyone stood to bow at each other, it wasn't at the last moment that the clan head acknowledged your presence.

"...Excuse me, though it's been a great chat and I do appreciate your grace's presence today...I'd been wondering," he motions a hand toward you, "if it was possible to grace me with your name,"

You stand there dumbfounded at first, until you realize he was talking to you. "Oh, me? I...am..." you hesitated because you didn't know if it was respectful for someone as low as you to even open your mouth. Each person in the room had their eyes on you now. Everyone, except Kunikuzushi, who had stared the man down as if trying to drown him in an endless gaze, answers for you.

"...This is Y/N," he looked to be thinking about what to say next. "...I'm indebted to them for looking after me all this time,"

"Ah," the clan leader pipes up, tearing his gaze away from you.

Ah what? You wonder. Not completely following the conversation. However, the next thing you know the clan leader had apologized, and Kunikuzushi abruptly turns and starts walking, leaving you to hurriedly follow after him in a slight daze.

5. Thinks about your well being

"Y/N, are you aware that I house the gnosis in my body?" he asked you one day.

"Yes, since the beginning, my lord," you don't know what brings this topic up. The gnosis was almost never talked about.

In the study, there's a moment of silence as he continues to practice his brush strokes. Each flick of his wrist is more precise than before, and you had the mind to compliment him.

"...If the day comes that someone attempts to take it... That's the only time I'd want you to leave me be. Do you understand?"

Your shoulders tense up for only a moment, your eyes tacked on to the calligraphic words he was painting. "...I understand,"

6. Wants to keep you safe

"May I ask your name and affiliation?" You stand at the main doors of Shakkei Pavilion. There are about 4 other servants behind you, standing straight and curious about the commotion.

"Signora, of the Fatui," An elegant looking lady, you thought, but what business could she have here?

"...and your reason for visiting, milady?" You attempt to be polite, offering a smile. Perhaps she was just lost...but that could not be the case, judging from the hoard of armored and weaponed men behind her.

"I heard that there was a person of note residing here," she smiles, her voice is sultry, matching the dress that she wore. She wasn't even trying to hide what she was after now. "I would like an audience with him,"

You turn your head the slightest bit towards a servant and nod at him, he takes the signal and proceeds inside the Pavilion. You turn your attention back to Signora and give her the most pleasant smile you could muster.

"I see. The young master is resting at the moment, I've sent someone in to check if he would like to entertain guests right now...but the chances are low. Perhaps you could come back tomorrow? I'll certainly tell him that you've come,"

"...Don't forget, what you were tasked to do, when the time arises,"

The chuckle that Signora lets out sends shivers down your spine, the men behind her start to step forward. "I'm afraid tomorrow would be too late, we'll welcome ourselves in now,"

"...Picking a personal "maid" was a long process, and you were chosen for a reason... When the time comes, there will be those who will attempt to take the gnosis,"

Signora walks forward, but stops in her tracks as a loud BANG BANG BANG resonates in the sky. Fireworks erupt, one by one, a cascading colour of red, and only red. A particular one stands out as it shoots up into the sky, it makes a loud sound, almost like its whistling and whizzing through the air, before it erupts, a trail of bright red smoke hovering in the night sky.

Signora scoffs and finally grins at you. "A signal fire. You're smarter than you look,"

"And if it so happens that we are far away from each other, you're to send a signal to alert me...From there on, what I need is time. Distract them, as much as you can, and keep Kunikuzushi away, as far as you can,"

"What's going on out here--" At the same time that Kunikuzushi appears at the top of the stairs. You turn to look at him once, and once only. You give him a reassuring smile as he asses the situation, eyes darting to and fro before landing on you.

"It'll be fine, milord," you whisper. He most likely couldn't even hear you where he stood. Perhaps the reassurance was for yourself. The ground rumbles, it feels almost like an earthquake. Vines, trees, roots, branches and leaves erupt from the ground behind you. Your dendro vision shines on your shoulder.

7. Won't let you go

"Y/N?!" Kunikuzushi shouts in confusion as the trees keep erupting. They become taller and taller, higher and higher and he can hardly see you now--

It hits him, what you were trying to do. This was a barrier to keep him inside the Pavilion, and to keep the intruders out. Out there with you.

"Y/N!" he starts running down the stairs as vine after vine weave into each other. He still has a glimpse of your back, but the shrubs and the leaves and the branches are closing in.

8. "Stop!"

The trees are higher than ever, forming a thick wall. His legs stumble, almost rolling down the stairs. There's an open hole left, if he could just reach it--

but roots start to swirl into it, he reaches, but his hand touches nothing but vines and soil. "No!" He looks up and around for an opening of any kind. There's none.

It's a solid wall of tangled trees and plant matter. He pushes into it with a grunt and it doesn't budge the slightest bit. When he stills, it's quiet. It's so incredibly quiet that one would not even think there was something happening on the other side of this artificial wall.

9. "This can't be happening,"

Is it a nightmare? He asks himself.

He reaches deep inside for the hidden reserves of electro energy, attempting to put pressure onto the wall, trying to get it to give in. He pushes hit after hit of electro energy spheres, and hit after hit it budges that slightest bit.

It's working, but not fast enough.

"Pathetic!" He says to himself, the words echoing into nothingness, voicing out how he felt about his own powers.

Had he used his full power before? No. There had never been a need to. Who would have thought he would attempt to because of you.

He pulls not only from his electro energy...now he pulls his energy even from the gnosis, and under no circumstance was he allowed to use the full extent of its power. Ei said it might break him...but how far was he willing to go?

10. "Just hang in there, I'm coming,"

The Raiden would be here soon.

Is what you kept telling yourself, despite your bruised and cut up appearance. It was easy enough to stall the Fatui soldiers. Signora was the real problem, and her pyro affinity was even more of a problem for you.

You find yourself cornered, and the crimson with of flames stares down at you. "I'll give you a chance," she starts, voice amused and perky. "Open this wall, and I'll let you live. It's as easy as that. There's no need to throw your life away protecting the gnosis. You're young, a whole life ahead of you,"

You tip your head up, eyes blurring for a split second, headache worsening. You probably hit your head somewhere during the chaos. "...It's not the gnosis I'm trying to protect,"

Signora frowns in disappointment, but says nothing else. She didn't like wasting her breath. She lifts her hand above your head and you see a flicker of flames.

Then a bright light.

A bright, purple light, engulfing the entirety of the open area. The two of you recoil and block your eyes.

11. "Back away. Don't touch Y/N,"

You're too tired to open your eyes. But its warm and comfortable. The words and sounds just turns into a buzz in your ears.

A snapshot of memories race through your mind, little pictures of everything in your life leading up to today. Yet most of it consisted of your time serving Kunikuzushi. Tending to him when he was sick, pointing at the cherry blossom tree while out on a walk, looking at the lanterns during the festival.

You were not a maid. You never felt like you were. You were a companion.

Then, your eyes snap open. You bolt up on the bed you're resting in and instantly regret the sudden action. "Augh..." you groan, falling back down on your elbows.

On closer inspection, no one else was in the room. It was just you. You slowly put yourself down to a laying position again, staring at the ceiling.

What happened? You ask yourself, coming up with no answers whatsoever.

12. "You...You're alive,"

It all comes back to you when you see him standing by the sliding door, a cup of water in his hand. You keep each other's gaze for the longest time, until he slowly walks over to the chair next to you...and slumps forward to bury his head into your white sheets.

"...Are you unhurt, milord...?" you whisper, for the silence seems so fragile.

"...Physically, yes," he mumbles. "Mentally...I'm...seething with rage and drowning in...something. I don't know what it is, I just..."

You let nothing be said between the two of you for a few more moments.

"I can breathe now," he continues, and you stay looking at the back of his head. "I can breathe now," he repeats. "That's what it felt like. As if I had lost my breath and it was hard to breathe," He picks his head up to glare at poor old you. "and then I'm angry because neither you nor Ei had told me anything about a plan...If it concerns me, I deserve to know!"

You wince at the sudden increase in volume, and he apologizes quickly. "S-Sorry, I'm...just..." again he struggles to find the words that names his feelings. There's so many things at the same time, it was hard for him to comprehend.

You pipe up for him, "Worried,"

He tosses the word back and forth in his head. Is that what this is? Worry? An emotion so crippling that he was unable to do anything else except wait for you to wake up.

"...but why?" He asks himself aloud. You trace the expressions on his face. He doesn't know.

But you do.

You know exactly why he was feeling that way because you feel it too.

13. "Please don't do that again,"

He almost begs you a few days later, when you've made a full recovery. He can't bear it. He can't imagine what worse things could have happened if he nor Ei didn't make it on time.

"Besides, there's no need to... Ei confiscated the gnosis from me..." he grumbles something about a punishment for using too much of its power.

You hum a little, and repeat what you told Signora. "It's not the gnosis I'm trying to protect,"

"...I can take care of myself just fine," he huffs, catching on to what you were implying.

"Oh, then it seems I'm out of a job, young master! A personal maid seems hardly necessary," you were only teasing, but something sort of switches on in his mind. He looks straight at you, and without any hesitation whatsoever,

14. "You are always necessary...Lest I find it hard to breathe,"

This was how he described how he felt, in this straightforward manner yet long winded way. You hide a smile.

Perhaps he'll never understand his own feelings, perhaps he will.

For you, being certain about yours was more than enough.

#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin impact #scaramouche angst #scaramouche fluff #wanderer #genshin angst #genshin fluff

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