I was inspired by this hilarious Reddit comment to write a short Destiel ficlet—
With his head lying on Dean’s chest, Cas can feel his husband’s breathing deepen as he starts to doze off. So Cas sends him off to bed with a promise of being right behind him. It only takes a few minutes to rinse off their plates from dinner and add them to the dishwasher, but Dean’s completely asleep as Castiel enters their bedroom. Cas smiles fondly, he never gets tired of seeing him comfortable and relaxed, a far cry from the tense and anxious sleep he used to witness in hotel rooms scattered across the country.
Cas sits on the end of the bed to remove his socks, causing Dean to stir and grumble out something unintelligible. In moments like these, Cas is grateful that life has calmed down enough that Dean’s “angry” sleeper status has downgraded to merely a “grumpy” sleeper. There’s more complaints, but less guns, so it’s a fair trade. Cas changes into a clean t-shirt and pulls on a pair of Dean’s pajama pants before pulling back the covers on his side of the bed and sitting down. The mattress dips under his weight and he hears Dean mumble something. “Hmm??” he asks distractedly, pulling out his crosswords book from the nightstand.
“No, thank you.” Dean repeats. Cas’ eyes narrow in confusion, but a quick glance at Dean makes it clear that he’s talking in sleep, so he turns back to find his pencil. Suddenly he feels one of Dean’s hands find his hip and begin to push him away. “That’s my husband’s spot.”
Cas smiles, “Dean, I am your husband.” he laughs out as he reaches down to grab Dean’s hand and stop the ineffective attempts to push him away. Dean jerks his hand away and exclaims, “Excuse me! I’m married.”
Laughing in earnest now, Cas shifts and begins to lie down next to Dean to soothe him, but Dean reaches out again and pushes Cas’ shoulder. “I’m spoken for, pal”
“Dean!” Cas exclaims with a laugh, losing his balance. He reaches back to steady himself using the nightstand, and almost knocks the bedside lamp onto the floor, barely saving it as he jumps out of bed.
Cas rights the lamp just as Dean lifts his head and looks around blearily. Seeing Cas, he says “C’mere buddy, I saved you a spot.” and sleepily pats the bed next to him.
“Thank you, babe.” Cas says as he lies down next to Dean, “You’re a little aggressive in your faithfulness, but it’s very much appreciated.” Smiling, he places a hand on Dean’s cheek and kisses him, marveling at how lucky he feels to be loved by the man he once thought he couldn’t have. His crosswords forgotten, he snuggles in close and settles in to get some rest.
Prompt: You fell asleep in Yelena’s arms and Yelena does everything in her power to make sure you stay there. Even if it means silently fighting the avengers.
A/N: sorry if this is short. I kinda thought of this at 11pm and I have to be awake in a couple of hours.
You were fast asleep in her arms, head laying on her chest, hands resting around her waist. The warmth you radiated and the tingling feeling every time you breathed sent shivers down Yelena’s spine. There was no way in hell she was going to ruin something so peaceful like this.
Well, your teammates begged to differ. Sam calls out for you from across the hall. The moment he comes into view, Yelena pulls out her knife and throws it at him. It barely misses his cheek as it sticks to the wall behind.
Yelena could only mouth her words. “She is sleeping.” Her expressions were clearly angry towards the Captain.
When Sam eyes you laying on Yelena’s shoulder, a grin spreads his face. He raises his hand to apologize before walking away.
Yelena sighs in relief, as she watches Sam disappears from the hall she turns to look at you once more, making sure you were still fast asleep. To her happiness, you were. She gently cups your cheek, looking at every single feature on your face trying to memorize it. The way your face relaxes when you sleep creates a twinkle in her eyes, a feeling that causes the ends of her lips to curl up into a smile.
It only seems the moment gets ruined once more as footsteps start trailing towards the area. Her guard is immediately up, the knife ready to be launched if that person dared to make a sound.
Unfortunately, the person who decides to walk through was none other than Natasha. She had a sly grin on her face when she sees her little sister cuddling with you.
Yelena mouths back, glaring harshly. “Don’t you dare.”
If Natasha was someone like Steve, she would’ve let the two of you live in peace. But because Natasha was always acting like a little shit around her sister, Yelena knew this was going to end up in a night.
“Leave us alone!” Yelena mouths.
Not even bother to whisper, she points at the two of you. “What, Yelena? I can't hear you?”
“Natasha!” Yelena hisses through her teeth.
“Yes, that’s my name.”
It takes all of Yelena’s power to not lurch at her sister. For if she did, she would definitely wake you up and she would lose the warmth on your chest.
“I’m happy to see that you two still have all your clothes on.”
“Stop-“ Yelena keeps hissing.
“I know you’ve thought about it before. You have a dirty mind anyway-“
“Natasha, stop.” With each word, Yelena’s voice begins to get progressively louder and louder.
“I’m just saying-“
“Эта сука,” Yelena grumbles.
“Language, Lena! That’s so foul!”
Yelena only boils over, throwing a knife right at her sister. Luckily Natasha dodges it in time as it hits the back wall with a loud thud. A thud so louder that your evened breathing hitches and your eyes shoot open. Great.
“Oh no, you woke Y/N up!” Natasha replies.
Yelena glares heavily at her sister. Meanwhile, you were trying to understand what the hell just happened.
“Lena?” You call.
Natasha had already walked away by the time Yelena could point fingers.
“Sorry, детка.” She says. “Natasha was just being annoying. I tried to make sure you didn’t wake up.”
You life her head from her chest, running your eyes to adjust to the scene around you. “Don’t worry, Len. It’s not your fault Natasha inherited the annoying geek that all the avengers have.” You quip jokingly.
You try to wiggle away from her, but she only pouts, holding you by the waist, preventing you from getting up. “No!” She pouts. “Stay here! You were so comfortable.”
You lightly giggle at her response, turning your body so you take her hands from your waist. “Lena we’ve been on the couch for two hours.”
“That’s not enough time!” She complains.
“Oh come on. Who says we’re not going to stop cuddling,” you reply. “Let’s just take this to my room? We can cuddle there and there will be no one to bother us. I can have FRIDAY lock the room too.”
Yelena’s eyes light up. “Really?”
You gently place a kiss on her nose. “You act like we’ve never done this before.”
“Shut up,” she says. “I like your cuddles.”
You help pull her up from the couch. But before you could lead to the room, she pulls you in for a kiss. You instantly melt into it, arms wrapping around her neck.
“I love you, Yelena.”
“I love you most, детка.”
Thanks for reading this short one! Sorry if I haven’t posted much this month, I’ve been slowly readjusting to uni and time isn’t as readily available as it used to be. But I tried my best. Anyways, I hope you have a great day/night, and may you always stay safe. If you need anything, I’m always right here! :) -Bolts
Can’t Survive w You, Can’t Survive w/out You has been plaguing my mind for days now AHHH
I’m a huge sucker for The Mentor figure in pretty much every single story ever—but @tf-decepti-stories ‘ Oculus takes the cake and sm more :’)) he’s just so sweet and nice and he’s just been SO good to Op oh I love him dearly
they were kind enough to let me take his descriptions and run with it so I can put a face to the name! So much brainstorming,,,I obv had way too much fun I’ll definitely have to recycle some of those headshots >:33
Would you be interested in writing a snippet about a somewhat arrogant but powerful protagonist who attracts the attention of the villain, and because of this, the villain attacks their city in order to draw them out again, but the protag's allies blame hero for it because they were being so arrogant to the villain, and because protag feels guilty about it, they agree to be captured by the villain in agreement that the villain will stop attacking their city? ;)
This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't painted a target on our back!
The accusation echoed in the hero's head as they watched the villain touch down on the opposite side of the ruined square. The villain seemed the only clean thing, pristine compared to the rubble and dust and ash that surrounded them all. They all but sauntered closer, hands tucked into the pockets of their jeans.
The city guards shifted on their feet, exchanging glances, fingers brushing against the soothing tokens of their weapons. That was what the guns were, after all, against the villain. Tokens. Trinkets. About as effective as taking a plastic toy sword onto an actual battlefield.
"As per our agreement-" the mayor began, once the villain was in earshot.
The villain held up a hand, fingers a careless waggle to dismiss such insignificant words.
The mayor stopped talking.
The villain's attention stayed locked on the hero, studying them for a moment. Then. "Kneel."
The hero's face burned. "I don't think-"
"Yes, dear. That much is obvious to everyone."
The hero ground their teeth hard enough to hurt.
A whisper, sharp as a hornet's sting, rustled through the small team chosen for the handover and the more daring press who hovered on the edges with their cameras and recording equipment. All live.
The villain didn't bother to so much as raise a brow in the crackling silence that followed, simply observing the hero.
The hero's fists clenched, but they folded, dropping to their knees. Head bowed. They hoped the public, and the villain, would take the last as a sign of subservience - of playing along with the deal - more than hiding. The latter, though more true, felt cowardly.
"Tell them you were wrong to try and fight me," the villain said.
"That wasn't our deal." It came out raspy. "I just said I'd let you take me." The last part came out louder, more defiant, as if the villain couldn't have taken them if the hero didn't let them.
It wasn't a lie, the hero didn't think, even now.
The villain took a step closer, leaning down to press their lips to the hero's ear. "You want me to do that in front of everyone, gorgeous? My, my.”
It took a second for the hero to even register what the words meant, because they were so busy forcing themselves to hold still, to not try and attack. A choked sound left their throat.
The villain, when their eyes met, didn’t even have the decency to look mocking. There was no smugness. Only the inevitable conclusion, the inevitable victory, as if the hero’s loss wasn’t even worth gloating about.
“I was wrong,” the hero said, “to try and fight you.”
“Why?” For all the world, the villain genuinely sounded like they wanted the hero to learn the error of their ways.
“Because people got hurt.” The shame and guilt of it crumpled in the hero’s throat. “People I promised to protect. I failed them.”
The hero shot a glance back at their allies, hoping someone might step up, might remind the villain that the deal wasn’t humiliation. It was surrender.
No one said anything, not even those who the hero had considered their closest friends. If anything, they looked like they approved, like the hero was the one being justly punished. As if it hadn’t been the villain who decimated their city! As if the villain wasn’t the true monster here. Still, the hero had agreed, and helped orchestrated the deal, for a reason.
They would hand themselves over, not try and escape or kill the villain…and in return the city and everyone in it would be safe.
That didn’t mean they knew what the villain wanted them to say though.
The villain sighed, and let go of their chin. They pivoted on the spot, addressing the surrounding crowd, the cameras, the world.
“Because,” the villain said, spreading their arms, “you were arrogant. Because you thought you could challenge me, and win. Because.” They turned to the hero again, and there was something vicious to their tone now, “you are a big fish in a tiny pond and it’s about time you learned your place, don’t you think?”
There were many things the hero could have said: you wouldn’t have gone to all of this effort if I was the nothing you are trying to make me out to be, or are you done, yet?, or I suppose it takes one to no one, doesn’t it?
They said none of it. Because their city, their home, was a smouldering wreck and the hero had never meant for it to happen, but it still felt like all their fault. They looked down at the hands, grimy from battle still, and felt the tears well up.
The villain sighed, and when they spoke their voice was one more cordial, pleasant even, as they addressed the silent mayor still dumbstruck with terror.
“Pleasure doing business with you.”
They signed the papers, and whisked the hero away.
It was only when they were alone that the villain deigned to look at the hero again, and that strange something was back in their expression.
“Because,” the villain said softly, and cupped the hero’s face in the back of the jet, “the world does not forgive the mistakes of powerful people, and its heroes even less so. Because we are strong, and they hate it. Because to crucify a god for their sins and their salvation is all they know and it is a bad way to go.”
“Just like you told me it would.”
“You should never have wasted your time fighting for ants. They are inferior.”
The villain let go, leaned back in their chair, and smiled.
note from silver: this was not written by me but my lovely 🔑 anon!!! I had zero involvement and am just posting on their behalf ❤❤❤❤❤❤ and i would just like to say omg. omg its very good. so all praise should be directed at them!! [but u can send my way and ill post so they can see :)]
nothing i do better than revenge.
pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader
***= time skip
cw: 18+, mentions of cheating, brat reader, mean natasha (comes with her own warning), mdlg, mommy kink, d/s themes, choking/breath play, impact play (face slapping & spanking), crying kink, face riding, strap on use, orgasm denial, degradation, pet names, implied legal age gap, strong language
you had long forgotten about the consequences of what you were about to do, because all you cared about was revenge. you knew they were cheating on you, with someone you didn’t even care to think about. but it didn’t matter right? you loved them, or you at least did. the only advantage you had right now was that they had no idea that you knew.
you approached their house and braced yourself for what was likely to happen. you weren’t there for them, no. their mother, natasha, was always incredibly sweet to you, arguably too sweet. but you could hardly say you cared. you felt the effects she had on you every time her eyes lingered on you, every time she was obviously making excuses to be close to you, to touch you, every time she called you “honey, angel, sweetheart” your heart sped up so quickly, it made you dizzy. you had known for a while how you felt about her, it was obvious. but naturally you pushed it away, of course you did. at least now, what you truly wanted makes for perfect revenge.
“hi sweetheart!” natasha said excitedly when she saw it was you at the door. walking through her house, you heard her call out “they’re not here, is that okay? you can wait for them if you want.” you attempted to resist her offer, but it was quickly followed with her worry and fear that something had happened.
“they cheated on me,” you finally admitted. natasha’s shoulders dropped as she let out a sigh. “i’m so sorry, honey. if there’s anything i can do-“ you quickly cut her off, trying to change the subject to anything but them. “it’s okay, honestly. i’m not even here for them.” natasha raised an eyebrow at you as she leaned against the kitchen counter, “oh? then who are you here for, sweetheart?” she responded, smirking at you. ”oh, i, uh-“ you started, struggling to explain. natasha walked over to you and grabbed your chin to look at her. “come on, y/n, tell me why you’re really here. i know you didn’t come all this way to talk.”
in all honesty, you didn’t know where to begin, but you knew there was no getting out of this, “i just noticed some things about you, things you do” you felt natasha smirk at you again. “oh yeah? and what do i do, sweetheart?” you let out a nervous laugh at what seemed to be her favourite pet name. “that, you call me things like that and you always stare at me- i just thought-“ you felt natasha move impossibly closer to you, “such a clever girl, aren’t you? did you figure that out all by yourself?” she chuckled at the way you responded, all flustered and blushed. something in you couldn’t stop ranting before it came out, when it did, it was too late to backtrack. “i just- i think about you a lot, i can’t stop actually. i can’t stop thinking about touching you and-“ the words came out so quickly, you could barely make sense of them. “so,” she began. “let me get this straight, you came all the way here in hopes that i’d fuck you?” you could try and deny it but you knew it was pointless. you knew exactly what you wanted and so did she.
“would it be so bad if i did? you asked so softly, you doubt she even heard. gripping your hips and pulling you into her, natasha starts kissing and biting your neck softly, “no, sweet girl. it really wouldn’t.” you have to remind yourself to breathe, as this whole ordeal feels like a dream. it’s hard to believe you actually went through with it. natasha’s hand gets lost in your hair as she pulls your head back to look up at her.
“do you want this?” she said softly, and you quickly responded with “yes. i want this, i want you.”
“good,” she sighed. because once i start, i don’t think i’ll be able to stop.” you stared back into her eyes and whispered, “i don’t want you to stop.”
you left natasha’s house in the early morning, before she woke up. it felt like the right thing to do, but you couldn’t stop thinking about her all day. the teasing, the biting, the way she praised you, the way she had you whimpering “mommy… please, mommy i need it” over and over again. you were certain that the previous night was ingrained in your brain forever, and you adored every minute of it.
but right now, you had more pressing things on your mind, like exactly how this revenge on your, now ex, partner would go.
you felt natasha’s hand grip your shoulder and drag you to her car. you had just performed, a rather fitting, song in front of your ex partner, natasha, and most of the townspeople. your song of choice was “i fucked yr mom,” and maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea, but it did get you what you wanted.
once you arrived back in natasha’s house, you knew it wouldn’t be long before she snapped. she took you by surprise as she pinned you against the wall with her hand around your throat. you barely had a chance to speak before she did. “what the fuck was that, huh? what the fuck are you playing at?”
“didn’t you like it, mommy?” you said with your eyes gleaming up at her, leaving her trying to calm herself before she spoke again. “you know exactly what i’m talking about, princess. you can’t just do shit like that.”
“oh can’t i? you didn’t seem to mind when i was-“ you spoke out, but was quickly cut off by her slapping you across the face. “this is not the time to play games with me, little girl. i’m gonna give you one chance to-“ you interrupted her with something that resembled “when will it be time for that, then? cause this is really boring.” she almost looked offended, shocked even, that you were talking to her in such a way. you honestly don’t think you’ve ever seen her angry. definitely not like this, or directly at you. her sour mood could be felt from all around her, everything about her demeanour screamed “i’m furious and you’re making it worse for yourself.” granted, you probably should’ve stopped there, toned it down a little. but for some reason, you just couldn’t. you had to see how much it would take for her to snap. you wanted to see how far she was willing to go.
you watched as she tried to compose herself, taking deep breaths and almost trying to block you out. “when the fuck did you become such a brat, huh? i bet you thought about this every single time you came here, didn’t you?” you genuinely contemplated submitting for a second, but where’s the fun in that? “i don’t know, natasha. can’t you figure it out yourself?” you responded, blatantly yawning and mocking her. you knew you’d fucked up when you were met with her sweetest smile, “if you’re not in my bed and ready for me in two fucking minutes, this entire city is gonna know my name.”
it felt like an eternity before you heard natasha walk upstairs, and towards you. you figured that was a part of her plan, keep you waiting and needy, right? she definitely knew the effect she had on you, and knew how to use it to her advantage.
you knelt in the middle of her bed, and she seemed somewhat pleased that you followed at least one of her orders. apart from that, she continued to ignore you, shuffling through drawers. finally, she turned to pay attention to you, and gripped your face to look at her, “look at that, my little brat can obey me.” she almost scoffed at the sight of you, “you’re pathetic, you know that?” “not really, are you about to enlighten me, natasha?” you snapped back.
“you’ve got everyone fooled, haven’t you, angel? they all think you’re so fucking innocent. i guess only i know the truth.”
“worked for you didn’t it? so what’s that then, natasha? you’re boring me again.” you watched as she reached for something you couldn’t see, “you know what, if you wanna act like a brat, i’m gonna treat you like one.” she huffed, before she put you over the edge of the bed, and cuffed your hands behind your back. “oh, fuck.” you mumbled in reaction. “see, here i thought that you were a precious, innocent little thing. turns out you’re just a whore for mommy’s attention.”
“aw, natty, did you figure that all out by yourself? you retorted, repeating last night's words back to her.
natasha’s hand came down on your bare skin with a slap, making you let out a whimper. “oh pretty baby,” she started. “let’s see how much of a brat you are when you’re all red and raw for me. you’re gonna count every single one, angel.”
she pulled you back up close to her chest, whispering “and trust me, sweetheart, we can keep recounting all night if you feel like messing up.” you accidentally let out another whimper, much to natasha’s amusement. “something to say, baby?” you couldn’t see her face, but knew she was almost laughing at you.
“are you gonna count for me?” you let out a small mumble that she couldn’t hear. “what was that? speak up, brat.”
“yes mommy!” you sounded so desperate, you both knew it. but what you didn’t know was how much natasha wanted this, had waited for this. you looked so perfect to her, bent over her bed and tied up just for her, and her alone. she knew getting you to submit to her would be oh so easy. sure, you’ll put on the act of the disobedient slut for a while. but she knew it was just that. an act. one that she will gladly force you out of.
“twenty!” you exclaimed, with tears streaming down your face, after she spanked you over and over again. “please, it’s too much, mommy.” natasha hummed and undid the cuffs, “aw, my poor baby. did mommy make you cry?” she cooed while turning you on your back. she had removed most of her clothes at this point and pushed you down onto the bed. she stroked the hair out of your face before asking, “can you tell me your colour, angel?” “green, mommy. i don’t wanna stop.” you whined. “that’s my good girl, because i am far from fucking done with you yet” her response made chills go down your spine, and you watched her straddle your face. “now, you’re gonna be a very good girl and make me cum before i even think about touching you, am i clear?”
“yes mommy, wanna make you feel good.” you whined, and natasha chuckled at how pathetic how sounded. “what? no bratty remark?” she teased before lowering down to your mouth. as soon as she did, you could swear this was heaven. her pussy looked so pretty glistening above you, you were almost proud of how wet you made her. you gently licked and sucked her clit, “cmon my slut, i know you can do better than that.” she groaned. you licked long stripes through her folds and became completely lost in her, the way her thighs lightly squeezed your head, the way she gripped your hair, the way her taste and scent was intoxicating. she was perfect, you were sure of it. she began to buck her hips and grind against your face once you sped up your pace. “oh fuck, angel, that’s it, right there, don’t stop.” she rambled, as if you would ever stop. “you see what happens to bad girls that disobey me?” she said, tightening her grip on your hair. “bad girls get used like mommy’s toys until they learn to be good again.”
“oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, princess. you wanna mommy to cum all over your pretty face? you gripped her thighs and pulled her pussy even closer to you as you sucked her clit, “oh my god, right there, don’t you fucking stop. i’m gonna- fuck!” she moaned and whimpered as she came above you. you continued licking and sucking her pussy while she rode out her high.
natasha climbed off you and reached for something. once she was back in front of you, she had a strap attached to her hips, and smirked at you as you whimpered at the sight. “see something you like, princess? she teased. you looked up at her and nodded, with heavy eyes and slightly open mouth. “you look so pretty like this, sweetheart.” she hummed, lightly slapping your face “mommy’s pretty slut.”
natasha teased your slit with the strap, not quick pushing in yet. “you’ve been such a bad girl, haven’t you? i’m almost disappointed in you.”
“please, please mommy, i need it.” you begged. “oh, now you think you have the right to beg? i guess you’re dumber than i thought.” she teased as she pushed the strap all the way into you, making you whimper loudly.
“i’ve barely started, angel.” she cooed. “put on such a big show for me, and the brat can’t even take mommy’s cock. how pathetic.“
“no, no, i can take it, i swear, please! please give it to me, mommy.” you pleaded. natasha let out a low growl at your words, and began to thrust her strap deep into you. “where did my brat go, honey? you had such much to say earlier.” she was taunting you now, she knew it too.
“i just- fuck! please mommy, i’m so close. i just wanted your attention i swear.”
“oh i know, baby. you’re just a whore for mommy’s attention aren’t you? she continued to rock her hips into you, knowing exactly how close you were. “do you wanna cum, sweetheart? you wanna cum for mommy?” she asked.
“mhm yes, please mommy. please let me cum, i want it so bad.”
“no.” she abruptly pulled her strap out of you and stopped all her movements, making you whimper. “why did you do that, mommy?” you whined.
“why? did you really think i’d let you cum that easily? after the stunt you pulled tonight, you’ll be lucky if you cum at all.” natasha leaned in close to you, and whispered “show me how desperate you are for it.”
“no mommy,” you whined. “don’t wanna beg, please just fuck me.” she almost laughed at how pathetic you were. “i could fuck you all night, honey. that doesn’t mean i’d let you cum. now, come on, princess. don’t make a fool of yourself, tell mommy how badly you need it.”
“please give it to me, mommy, please. i’ll be your good girl, i promise. you don’t understand how badly i needed your attention, how badly i needed you. i won’t be bad ever again, i swear!” you could almost sob in desperation, you needed something, anything. “shhh, love. i’m right here, let me take care of you.” she whispered, before filling you all the way up with her strap. “mommy, it’s so so good, please i need- fuck” you whined, barely able to speak anymore.
“what, precious? what do you need?”
you tried your best to speak through breathy moans, “please play with my clit, mommy i need it” and natasha quickly obliged, circling your clit with her thumb. “oh my- fuck.” you gasped. natasha’s title left your lips like it was a damn mantra. you were completely intoxicated by her, the only thing left in your head was “mommy mommy mommy.”
“want you to cum for me, sweetheart. make a fucking mess on my cock right now.” she commanded. the world around you collapsed as you came, and you shook so hard, that you clinged onto natasha for any kind of stability. you felt her move around you, but couldn’t make out where she was, until you felt her lay next to you and pull you close to her. “there are you are,” she smiled softly at you. “hi mommy” you responded in a whisper. “hi precious girl, are you doing okay?” “yes mommy, i’m so good. can we sleep now, mama?” natasha pulled the blankets over the pair of you and placed gentle kisses on your forehead. “of course we can, sweetheart.”
you knew tomorrow would come with all of the questions, and none of the answers. but all that mattered was that you had natasha, and she had you.
Summary: Penelope Garcia goes on sabbatical for a month and her replacement shakes Aaron Hotchner up more than he cares to admit..
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x (fem!)reader!
Warning: FULLY SFW FLUFF
Includes: Fluff, kisses, flirting, soft, smiles, emotions, sweet boy Aaron Hotchner, soft Hotch, Aaron Hotchner needs a hug, a touch of Kevin slander pfft
Word Count: 3.6k
A/N: This is posted on my ao3 (ssahotchswife)! Hi guys!! I hope you’ve all been having a good week so far and I hope it only gets better. Enjoy some fluff on this fine Wednesday! AO3 LINK
The BAU without Penelope Garcia was like a kindergarten class without a teacher: Pure Chaos. Garcia deserved the break, however, that’s why it hadn’t been a hard decision at all for Aaron to sign off on her time-off request. A month without the only real thread tying the team together – Aaron was worried. Of course, the team literally couldn’t function without a technical analyst, so they were bringing in a temporary substitute for Garcia, though no one could ever replace her skills in the Batcave. And Aaron really wasn’t looking forward to dealing with Kevin for a month.
The morning had already started off a little rocky; Jack woke up feeling sick and cried in Aaron’s arms until he fell back to sleep from exhaustion. He really had considered staying home from work, but he needed to be there to go over the basics of the job with Kevin. Jessica had basically had to shove him out the door to go to work, and he knew he wasn’t going to be the most pleasant man in the world that day. If he didn’t dislike Kevin so much, he might have felt bad for the guy that he had to deal with Aaron’s piss poor mood all day. But it was only Kevin.
Aaron’s day steadily got worse as he got stuck in traffic, dropped his coffee on the parking garage floor, and got stuck in the elevator with Erin Strauss who lectured him about the BAU’s budget and the temp coming to fulfill Garcia’s post for the entire ride up to his floor. The rest of the team was already in the bullpen by the time he stomped towards his office, he could feel the raised eyebrows and quiet whistles of the team behind his back as he shut himself into his office and wished for a lock on the door.
He’d barely gotten settled into his desk chair when a soft knock sounded on the door. Knowing it must be Kevin, Aaron shouted for him to come in, never taking his eyes off the file in front of him on the desk.
“I’m sure Garcia has already told you a lot of what to expect with this job,” He said.
“Oh, sir, I don’t think –” Aaron’s head whipped up at the sound of your voice. His eyes widened when he didn’t see Kevin standing in front of his desk, but instead saw you. Nervous, beautiful you.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.
“I’m – um – I’m the temp?”
He tried not to profile you, knowing it could make people even more nervous around him, but it was hard not to. The way you’d phrased your job title as a question, the way you shifted from foot to foot nervously, the overly professional way you’d dressed. An overachiever, likely straight out of college or maybe grad school, used to being praised for your work by superiors. You were pretty, very pretty, but Aaron didn’t think that was his profiling skills saying that, not when the confused furrow of your brow made his heart flip. Odd.
“T-they sent me straight here after HR,” You said, clearly uncomfortable with silence. “And told me to speak with Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner.”
“Right,” Aaron said. “We were expecting Kevin.”
“I don’t know Kevin,” You said, sounding apologetic for whatever reason.
“Lucky you,” Aaron mumbled under his breath, blinking in surprise when you let out a soft chuckle at his words. “What’s your name?”
“(Y/n), sir, (y/n) (y/l/n),” You said, blinking up at him when he stood from his chair and moved to stand in front of you.
After a moment, you offered up your hand for him to shake. Surprise flooded in his veins at your strong grip. Maybe your lack of confidence earlier had simply been a response to the surprise of your new boss potentially not knowing who you are. The corners of your lips curled up into a little smile as you pulled your hand back. Aaron had to fight to keep the smile off his own lips at the adorable smile on yours.
“Follow me,” He said, walking out of the office, not needing to turn to know you were trailing behind him.
Down in the bullpen, he noticed the curious gazes of his team watching you. And, of course, he noticed the way Morgan leaned back in his desk chair and grinned up the stairs at you. Aaron couldn’t understand, nor care, about the flicker of irritation that fanned in him at Morgan’s clear attraction to you.
“You can meet the team later,” Aaron said, glancing over his shoulder at you.
“Okay,” You nodded decisively.
Aaron unlocked the door to Garcia’s lair, chuckling when he saw the bright pink letter left on the desk for you from the analyst. Stepping back, he let his eyes roam over you as your eyes widened with wonder at the sight of so many computers displayed before you.
“Wow,” You breathed. “Whoever this Garcia is, she’s a genius.”
“She’s something,” Aaron huffed out a laugh. “Do you need anything else before you get started?”
“No, sir,” You said with a smile. “But thank you.”
“Please, (y/l/n), call me Hotch,” Aaron said.
“Oh,” You said, blinking in surprise. “Right. Hotch.”
He lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching you ogle over Garcia’s set up. Aaron couldn’t help but smile softly seeing you be so impressed and excited at your new workstation. After a moment, he left you alone to fiddle with the high-tech equipment in front of you.
Back in his office, Aaron worked at his paperwork for hours, though his brain wasn’t exactly in it. Every time his eyes slid up to the photo of his son on his desk, a wave of guilt and concern would crash into him. He should be home with his little boy, checking his temperature, rubbing his tummy, kissing his forehead. But he was here, he was always here. It was hard for him not to be mad at you about it – sure, he knew rationally that it wasn’t your fault, but he was here instead of with his son because it was your first day.
At some point he heard you greeting the team, your voice friendly and anything but the timid, stammering woman who had walked into his office this morning. Sure enough, right on schedule, the insecurities started eating at him. Why were you so nervous to talk to him? Was he that unapproachable that even just being near him made people nervous? His bad mood was back again, giving him a headache that lingered until nearly everyone was gone from the office.
It was almost six when he heard the familiar soft knock on his office door, calling for you to come in.
“Hi,” You said with a little smile as you entered.
“Something I can help with?”
Oh – uh – yeah,” You said, your eyebrow twitching in confusion at his annoyed tone. “I just need your signature on this intake form.”
“Right.” Aaron scratched out his signature on the paper you handed him.
“S-sir – I – Hotch,” You started. “Is everything alright?”
“I just – you seem upset,” You said. “Are you alright?”
Aaron sighed, realizing what an ass he was being to you for absolutely no reason. It wasn’t your fault he was still here – it was this frustrating paperwork that he was still working on.
“Yeah, it’s – I’m fine,” He said.
“Well, that was unconvincing,” You shrugged. Aaron huffed out a laugh without thinking about it, looking up to see you biting your bottom lip through a smile.
“It’s my son,” Aaron said quietly. “He’s home sick and I can’t stop thinking about him.”
“You want to be home with him,” You observed.
“You better get moving then,” You smiled. “Traffic can be heavy at this time.”
“I have a mountain of paperwork to get through –”
“I’ll help,” You said, plopping into the chair across from his desk. “We can get this done a lot faster with the two of us.”
“You don’t have to –”
“I do now,” You said, looking at the picture of Jack on his desk with a smile. “This little cutie needs his daddy to come home.”
“(Y/n), really,” Aaron said. “You don’t have to help me.”
“I know,” You nodded, grabbing half of the stack of papers in front of him. “I want to.”
Aaron watched you, guilt roiling in his stomach at how nice you were being when just moments before he was blaming you for his still being there. In silence, you worked together, finishing the paperwork as quickly as you could. Every so often, he’d glance up at you, noticing the way your tongue stuck out of the corner of your mouth in concentration. Occasionally, you’d look up at the same time, smiling at him when you noticed he was smiling at you.
By the time you were both packing up to head home, Aaron was surprised how fast the time had gone. He didn’t usually enjoy working with others in silence, he found the quiet to be more deafening than if someone were standing in the corner screaming at the top of their lungs. But with you it was different – everything with you was different.
“Get out of here,” You smiled softly as you shrugged into your coat. “Go home to that beautiful boy. Oh – a little lemon juice in water with a pinch of baking soda will help his upset tummy.” Aaron looked up at you, confused.
“How did you –?”
“You held your hand over your stomach quite a bit today,” You bit your lip. “I just figured it was sympathy pains for your son – or maybe guilt that you’re here and not there. Or both.”
Aaron stared at you, dumbfounded. Your eyes widened for a moment, blinking rapidly.
“I – I’m sorry, sir, I don’t –”
“No,” He said, stopping your apologies in their tracking. “No, that’s – you’d make a good profiler, that was spot on.” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over his eyes.
“Hardly,” You huffed out a laugh. “I could never do what you all do.”
“What do you mean?”
“Staring evil in the face,” You practically shivered. “Even the small amount of paperwork and research I did while trying to do Penelope’s job today was a lot for the heart.”
Aaron was quiet for a moment, thinking your words over. Your brow quirked together lightly, your eyes casting immediately down to your shoes before finishing up packing your briefcase.
“You should take care of it,” Aaron said quietly.
“Take care of what?”
“Oh,” You breathed, sounding relieved. “Right, well.”
“Good night, (y/l/n),” He said, holding his office door open. “Drive safe.”
“Good night, sir,” You said. “I mean, Hotch.”
Aaron smiled at you, a real smile – one this office hadn’t seen in a long while. He watched you walk down the stairs towards the elevator, glancing over your shoulder at him as you hit the button and entered the metal doors. You lifted your hand in a wave, a small smile on your face, and before he realized what he was doing, Aaron raised his own hand to wave back to you – butterflies setting flight in the pit of his stomach. It had been many years since he had gotten butterflies.
He got them again later that night when he was home with Jack, holding the cup filled with water, lemon juice, and a pinch of baking soda up to his son’s lips. It was only ten minutes later when Jack smiled sleepily at Aaron from his side of Aaron’s bed, telling him that he felt “much better, daddy, much much better” before squeezing his stuffed animal and letting his eyes close to fall asleep.
The next morning, Aaron brought you a coffee as a thank you for helping him the night before and for helping his son. You’d seemed flustered by the gesture, but incredibly grateful as you accepted the hot drink. If he wasn’t mistaken, he saw you grin down at the cup, tracing your fingers over the looping script of your name where it was written on the cup when you thought he wasn’t looking. But that’s the thing: he was always looking. He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from you for a moment if he could help it. Strange.
For the next month, you settled into a sort of routine, attempting to keep up with the team as much as Garcia typically did. Obviously, it wasn’t exactly the same, but no one faulted you for that – least of all Aaron. Especially when you seemed to linger in the office late until everyone else had left before slipping into Aaron’s office to help him with his paperwork.
“You really don’t have to help me every night,” Aaron said one night while you worked together, feeling guilty, as though he were taking advantage as you.
“Oh – I – am I bothering you?” You asked nervously. “I can leave you alone if you –”
“No,” Aaron said quickly. “I like the company – I like having you here.”
He watched as you smiled down at the paperwork you were fluttering through, feeling a smile of his own cross his lips. Butterflies again. Damn butterflies.
You were steadily becoming Aaron’s best friend, though he would be an idiot to say that his feelings for you were simply platonic. He hadn’t felt this strange charge of romantic feelings for another person in a long time – since Haley. It was foreign, and strange, like putting on pants that were a size too small. But it also made him feel alive – it made him happy to know he still had human feelings.
The problem was, every time he had convinced himself that you felt the same way – pointing to the way you joked with him, or smiled at him, or watched him when you thought no one was paying attention to you as his proof – he noticed the nervous way you moved about him and talked himself out of taking you into his arms at one of your late-night paperwork sessions and kissing you like he’d wanted to for weeks. And he was running out of time.
When your last case with the team came, Aaron felt the dread settle in his stomach. It was a case that required you to accompany the team with them on-site, which clearly excited you if the sparkle in your eyes when you climbed the jet was to be believed. And apparently, fate was on his side when the team paired off for room assignments, and he ended up with you. Dave had given him a knowing smile – clearly, his mentor could still read him like an open book – the Aaron had pointedly tried to ignore as he watched you twitch nervously in the elevator. The team had arrived late at night to sleep and join the police department in the morning. He’d thought of telling you now, telling you that he was falling in love with you, but Aaron’s heart dropped with every nervous glance you threw at him as you neared your shared room.
By the time the door swung open, revealing the single queen bed in the middle of the room, Aaron looked at you only to see you looking away in what appeared to be a nervous embarrassment. He sighed, feeling frustrated, and simply followed you into the room, dropping his things on the side of the bed you hadn’t claimed.
“I’m going to take a quick shower,” You said, not looking him in the eye.
Before he could get a word in edgewise, you scurried off to the bathroom with your go-bag and shut the door behind yourself. Being a morning shower kind of guy, Aaron dressed in his pajamas and sat on the bed. He called Jessica and asked after Jack, he sat and thought about you, he looked over the paperwork of the case, he stared at the bathroom door through the mirror and thought about you.
When you finally stepped out into the room once more, you practically jumped at the sight of him still awake and sitting up in bed.
“Are you really that afraid of me?” He asked, hating how whiny it sounded.
“I’m not afraid of you,” You said, the words almost sounding like a question.
“Are you sure?” He asked. “You’ve seemed nervous all night.”
“Oh,” You said, chewing on your bottom lip. “Yes, well, that’s – it’s not what you think.”
“You’re scared of me – not because of who I am, but because I’m your boss that you have to share a room with.”
“No,” You said quietly. “I promise, I’m not afraid of you, Aaron, it’s just – you’re very intimidating.”
“I didn’t use to be,” He sighed, trying to ignore the slip of his heart when you spoke his first name, flashes of who he was before this job, before losing Haley, time spent with his son streamed through his mind.
“Who did you used to be?” You asked with a little smile, dropping down onto the bed and sitting across from him with your legs folded under you.
“The type of guy who could walk through a grocery store and not wonder if my child and I just passed a serial killer,” He said quietly. “A man who smiled freely and easily.”
“You smile when you’re around me,” You observed.
“That I do,” Aaron sighed.
“Why is that?”
Aaron paused, remaining silent as he considered your words. Your brow furrowed in the middle as it often did when you were waiting for his response, once again he was struck by the desire to lean forward and kiss the little wrinkles between your brows.
“You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met,” He responded finally. “You – you’re good for me.”
“Well,” You grinned. “You certainly know how to compliment a woman.”
Aaron smiled tiredly at you, looking down at the way your hands fisted in the white cotton comforter. When he looked back up to your eyes, they were filled with concern as you looked at him.
“Why are you nervous then?” He asked. “If you’re not afraid of me.”
“Well,” You said. “I guess I wasn’t entirely truthful earlier, I am scared.”
“Oh,” Aaron said, his heart dropping lower than it had even earlier.
“But not of you,” You assured him.
“Then of what?”
“What I feel for you,” You said, after a moment. “H-how strong my feelings are for you – how sad I am to be leaving this job where I get to see you every day.”
He was quite literally shocked into silence – that didn’t often happen. Nothing in the world had prepared him to hear his every thought and feeling regurgitated to him from the woman he couldn’t seem to let out of his mind.
“Please say something,” You whispered.
“I just – (y/n), you have no idea how glad I am that this is your last case,” Your eyes widened as he spoke, and he would have laughed if he didn’t feel so serious at the moment. “With you in another department, I can ask you to have dinner with me when we get back to Quantico and not feel any guilt as your boss.”
“Oh,” You laughed lightly. “I see.”
“I would love nothing more,” You grinned. “As soon as this case is done then, you and me – us – this can happen.”
Aaron couldn’t think of anything to do but smile at you, certain you could hear the heavy pounding of his heart in his chest. All he wanted was to reach out and kiss you. Once the case was over, as soon as it was done, then he’d have you in his arms.
“Aaron,” You murmured quietly. “You seem tired.”
“I’m exhausted,” He said. “To the bone, I’m just – I’m exhausted.”
“Then sleep,” You whispered, leaning in and pressing the gentlest kiss between Aaron’s eyebrows.
As you moved your face away from him, Aaron leaned back in towards you to capture your lips in a long kiss. When you separated a few moments later, your face reflected the surprise that he was sure was on his own face.
“I – I’m sorry –”
“I’m not,” You whispered, kissing him quickly. “But I am tired, and so are you.”
“Not tired enough to give this up,” Aaron smirked, making you smile.
“Sleep now and I’ll kiss you good morning when you wake up,” You said, holding up your pinky between you. “Promise.”
Aaron looked down at your pinky with a little smile, reaching his own hand up to lock his finger around yours. He used his grip around your finger to tug you in close for another kiss – now that he’d gotten a taste of you, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to give you up.
“You better take care of my heart, Agent Hotchner,” You whispered against his lips. “And I’ll take care of yours.”
“With my life,” Aaron said quietly, letting you tug him down to lay on your sides facing one another.
Your eyes were the last things Aaron saw before he drifted off to sleep, his pinky still curled between yours with your hands resting against the mattress between you. He hadn’t given a pinky promise in years, but he was nothing but grateful that he had given you one last night when he woke the next morning to you brushing the hair out of his eyes and leaning in for a chaste kiss to his lips. Only Penelope Garcia would know when the team got a look at the new spring in Aaron’s step, that her choice of replacement for herself had done her job correctly – you’d done the job that you’d been hired to do and you’d done the job that Penelope had known you could do better than any other after she met with you the first time: make Aaron Hotchner smile.
Taglist: @xstaywildmoonchild @stiles-argent24 @chelseyjoyce @torykjamie @wonderousnerd @doctorstethoscope @gspenc @geeky-daughter @aaronhotchie @enilledam @joyclubie @txtdreamss @madamsnape921 @hotchology @art-and-thoughts @rubym13 @anxious-enby @willowrose99 @themoontoyourshine @averyhotchner @ssareidbby @ssamorganhotchner @jillys-feral-fandoms @ssahotchie @hushedlove @goldensonlyangel @angelic-kisses13 @multifandom-nsfw @hotchnersgirlfriend @meghannnnnn @ssahotchnerxx @cheasy-peasy-lemon-squeezy @itsmytimetoodream @usemelucifer @zetasaturno99 @silvermercy @0callme-mimi My taglist is 18+, if you want to be added you’ll need to confirm that you are 18+ or have it in your bio. Thanks for understanding!
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; drugging, fingering, loss of virginity, creampie, blood, blowjob, violence.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. It features Brock Rumlow. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Synopsis: You can’t shake just one night.
Note: Okay well someone said Getaway but with Brock Rumlow and I said fuck me. So here we go, it’s gonna be a series.
Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya.
Waking up is slow and painful. Your head is filled with concrete and your limbs are heavy like bricks. Your lashes flutter and your eye water as a gasp escapes you. You don’t know this place. The walls are painted a matte shade of grey and the shadows cast add to the darkness, the sun blocked out by thick curtains.
You turn your head and groan. You know the man next to you, vaguely. His name tugs at your mind for a moment and you mouth it, ‘Brock’. Through the haze, you recall his introduction but what followed is indecipherable. Only quick flashes of the bar, the street, a car, then the bed, and his body on top of yours.
You know what happened by the pain deep in your gut, the tenderness of your thighs as you gather the strength to move. You sit up and the pang that goes through you has you cupping your still swollen cunt. You remember his voice, the words on his tongue, “that’s a tight fucking pussy.”
Revulsion courses through you and you drop your legs over the edge of the mattress. A tight grip closes around your arm and keeps you from standing. The deep, gritty snores have stopped and his voice slice through the air and into your chest.
“Where’re you going?” he growls as he yanks you back.
“Let me go,” you whimper and struggle with him, “please--”
“Sweetheart, don’t go running out on me like that,” he sits up and grabs your neck, forcing you around to face him, “I know I fucked you good but you’re not some slut who skirts out without saying goodbye, are you?”
You search his dark eyes, the harsh angle of his jaw and the curl of his lips as he snarls makes you shudder. He squeezes your throat as you try not to crumple entirely. “N-- no?”
“Good,” he snaps the band of your bra, still around you though it’s slumped to your waist, “now let’s make this a good fucking morning, sweetheart.”
He pushes you onto your back and knees your legs apart as he moves to pin you beneath him. He shoves his hand against your cunt and you whimper as he spreads your lips and dips his middle finger into you. He growls and shifts his hips until his tip meets his knuckle. He pulls his finger out only to fill you with his cock. Your legs bend and your back arches as your eyes wet once more.
“Owww,” you croak as you slap his shoulders and your fingers curl against his firm muscle.
“How the fuck are you still this tight?” he thrusts and sends a shock through your hips, “I did my best to loosen you up, sweetheart, I promise--”
“Ah, please, stop,” you beg, “it hurts--”
“You just relax and it’ll feel fine,” he puffs as he ruts into you, flesh clapping loudly in the still room, “goddamn, my dick feels fucking huge in you.”
You hold in a whine as you clamp your lips shut and close your eyes. You smell his sweat as the tears trickle down your temples and into your hair. You squeeze his shoulders as he speeds up and plant your feet on the mattress as you try to ease his intrusion.
“Oh, goddamn, tell me-- you’re on-- the fucking pill, sweetheart?” he pants as he pounds harder and harder. You feel as if you’re going to break as you let out your agony in groans and grunts.
“N-N--Noooooo,” you murmur as he rams into you and a warm deluge flows around his thick cock. He spasms but carries his motion as he fucks his cum into you.
“Too fucking bad, isn’t it?” he pushes off of you and sits back on his heels, “you better get something.”
He slaps your thigh as his cock bobs in front of him, slimy with his own cum. You cringe and close your legs, wincing at the pain that ripples through you. He climbs off the bed and stretches his arms above him as he cracks his neck. You watch his bare ass as he disappears through a door.
You wipe your tears away and edge off the bed. You look around for your clothes, strewn in a heap at the foot. As you bend to pick up your panties, a shadow colours your peripheral.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he crosses his arms, unashamed of his nakedness below. Dark hair weaves across his chest and forearms, a trail leading down to his pelvis, “get in here.”
“Wh-- I gotta go--”
“You told me last night it’s your day off,” he sneers and you shy away as he marches towards you. He grabs your arm and rips you up to your feet, “now don’t try to pull any shit.”
He drags you, your feet slapping off the floorboards to the door and flings you ahead of him. You nearly hit the sink as the shower hums loudly behind the curtain. He brushes by you and steps behind the plastic, the metal rings chiming in your hungover ears. You press along your hairline as you try to still the reverberations.
“Well, fuck, sweetheart, you need me to tell you what to do next?” he calls through the curtain.
You hesitate before you reach back to unhook your bra. Your hands shake as the padded garment lands on the floor and you step closer to the tub. You step over the lip and nearly slip as you put your foot down. You catch yourself on the wall as he basks in the steam, hot water rolling over his shoulder and spattering your front.
You shiver and he reaches back, pulling you around him in the tight space to put you ahead of him. The stream hits the crown of your head as he grips your hips and kicks your feet apart. He slips his hand down and roughly plays with your clit. You squeak as he teases the sensitive bud, sending sparks from head to toe.
“Sweet little thing doesn’t even know how much she needs it,” he snarls as his hot breath adds to the heat of the water, “isn’t that right?”
“I don’t… know,” you murmur, “please--”
“Please what? Fuck that pussy again?” he nearly takes you off your feet as he rubs you raw, “already?”
He bends his knees and nuzzles your neck as he pokes around blindly. He prods against your entrance and snaps his hips, impaling you in a single motion. You press your hands to the tile as he has you on your toes and sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder.
He hammers into you, your feet slipping on the porcelain as he’s egged on by each torrid thrust. He pulls you back as he grips your hips and hammers into you without relent. As you lose your balance, he follows you down as the faucets cuts into your hairline and your elbows hit the floor.
He stays inside of you as he plants his knees on either side of you. His large hand spreads over your back as his other kneads your ass, the water flowing over your bodies in a squelching mess. You brace yourself on the porcelain as he pummels you, the pain pulsing through every inch of you.
A streak of red stains the water around your head, your blood salty as it passes your lips. The hot blood seeps from your scalp and singes your skin. You close your eyes and whimper as you long for it to be over, if it ever does end.
You’re almost stunned when he does let you go. There’s no pretense, no formality, he just tosses your clothes at you and growls.
You dress frantically and snatch up your purse, your jacket on one arm as you race out the door. He barely seems to notice as the wood slams in the frame and you scramble down the hall of the strange building.
Your disbelief follows you like a fog. The world is dull around you and you can only feel him and what he did to you. You get to the end of the first block before you wretch into a dingy old street bin. Pedestrians pass by unaffected, the city forges on around the usual strays.
You wipe your mouth with your sleeve and seek out a cab amid the endless rows of yellow. You’re far from home, you know that much, but still have no idea where you are. You give your address and brace for the high fare. Anything to get away, to be safe again.
But not before you hit the pharmacy. There were ways to fix a problem before it started. If you were going to forget that night, you would wipe every trace of it away.
Life went on. It’s eerie how you can just keep going when everything is irrevocably shattered. At first, you count the days, each passing quicker but not easier. You spend your nights between wakeless thoughts and all too real nightmares. The days you go to work are a blur, you’re running on fumes and muscle memory. You hardly function between hour long showers and tasteless meals.
Several pass and you lose track. A week, maybe? Two? You can’t say.
That day, you’re kept late as one of the residents passed several nights before and the others want to hold a celebration of life. You stay and cry for Sandy but soon enough you’re not sure the tears are just for her. You leave without a taste of the cake and head out into the wet New York evening.
You reach your building, the smell of street meat makes you nauseous and you struggle to open the heavy metal door. You climb the stairs until you’re out of breath. The elevator is too slow and broken more often than working. Besides, you need the exercise.
You unlock your door and stop short as you enter. The lamp beams a yellow orb around the front room as you hear the television blaring. You peek around the corner in confusion and grip your keys tight. The remote’s on the splintered coffee table and the pillows looks as if they’ve been tossed around. You pull back and raise your hand as a figure emerges from the kitchen.
Brock catches your hand and smothers your scream before you can stab him with your keys. He pushes you against the door as he hushes you. You kick your feet as your eyes round. How did he get in? Better yet, how did he find you?
“Sweetheart, calm down, I was just grabbing another beer,” he says as he eases his grasp slowly, watching you as he draws away. Your keys drop as you blink at him dumbly.
“Don’t tell me you’ve moved on already,” he winks as he backs up into the kitchen and pulls open the fridge. He pulls out a bottle of beer and adds to your confusion. You don’t buy beer, “brought my own but I’m willing to share.” He holds up a finger, “one. We both know you can’t handle more than that.”
“What are you doing here?” you gulp out at last.
His eyes narrow and jaw squares. He swigs as his nostrils flare and he plunks the bottle down on the counter. He weaves his fingers together and cracks his knuckles. You wince as you watch the gesture nervously.
“That’s a shit way to say ‘hey, miss you, nice to see ya’,” he snarls, “so let’s not start off on the wrong foot.”
Your lips part as he swipes up his beer and you back up as he brushes by you. You don’t dare to ask him to leave and you sure as shit can’t tell him. He got in here once, he can do it again. He can do much worse than that.
You put your purse down and pick up your keys to toss them on top. You hang your jacket and eye him anxiously as you peel off your boots. You hover along the wall as you watch him, his legs wide as he drinks his beer and chuckles at the tv.
He stretches his arm over the back and glances over at you. He gives you a grin and tilts his head.
“Well, you gonna say hi,” he slips his hand down and unbuttons his fly, “if you’re just gonna stand around and stare, I got something for you to do.”
You shake your head and sidle along the wall. His beer bottle clinks and he snaps his fingers.
“It wasn’t a suggestion,” he barks, “now, sweetheart, it’s been a while and my cock fucking hurts.”
“N-no,” you utter, “no, I can’t. I don’t… want to--”
He stand so quickly you trip and hit the wall. He storms around the chair and grabs your jaw, squeezing it meanly as he drags you back with him. You latch onto his wrists and writhe in his grasp, your head pounding from his vice like hold on you.
“I am trying to be nice, sweetheart, just like you are,” he snarls, “you’re too sweet, huh?”
You stumble with him and he turns to flop down on the couch and you bend with his descent. His hand moves to your throat and he chokes you, just a little, just enough to make your throat catch.
“You’re in the way,” he rumbles, “so get on your knees.”
You grab onto his legs and get down as he says. You’re shaking terribly as he rescinds his hand and pushes down his zipper. He rubs the front of his jeans before he reaches into his boxers and lifts his hips, pulling himself above the elastic. He’s hard, veiny, and thick. He wiggles his dick and grasps the back of your head.
“You ever use your mouth at least?” he asks as he forces your lips against his tip.
“No--” you answer and he quickly angles inside as your lips parts.
“Ah, another first,” he pushes your head down until he pokes your throat, “don’t worry, I know what to do, you just--” he urges you further until you gag and claw at his jeans, “relax. You’re gonna make yourself sick.”
He sinks down your throat and your body tenses completely. You hold back the wave of vomit but panic as you can’t get any air. He guides your head back and you suck in a breath through your nose before he shoves you back down. Your eyes roll back as tears stream out and saltiness taints your tongue.
He bobs your head up and down, his groans swirling around you tauntingly as you struggle to keep breathing in time with each descent. His hand hooks around and he feels your throat, his cock bulging out against his palm.
“Fuck, sweetheart, I can feel me in there,” he moves you faster as your spit smears across your lips and cheeks, “almost as nice as that pussy.”
You reach up and clasp the front of his shirt. You want him to stop. You’re dizzy, you’re sick, you're scared. He starts rocking his hips as he works your mouth up and down his length, his low growls strangling you along with his hand.
“Mmm, get ready, sweetheart, I been holding this in a while,” he huffs and you feel the sudden flood deep in your throat.
You cough and he pushes you off of him, his come bubbling up over your tongue and dripping from your lips as you sit back and cradle your hand beneath your mouth. You sputter as he chuckles and watches you, pinching the base of his cock as he shudders.
“Damn, we gotta work on that, sweetheart, can’t have you making a mess,” he says, “speaking of.”
He looks down at his glistening dick and you hold back a wretch. You stand on wobbly legs and cross the room to grab the tissue box from the side table. You take a few of your own and offer him the rest. He takes the box as you spit up into the kleenex.
“Well, you got a good meal in ya, didn’t you?” he snickers, “but I’m starving.”
“What?” you hold back another gag as your stomach curdles.
“I’m hungry, sweetheart, so why don’t you cook me a lovely dinner,” he says as he bunches up the tissue, “and get me another beer, huh?”
“I…” you quiver and look down at the wad of tissue in your hands and how they shake. You swallow and wipe your face tears with your sleeve, “what do you want?”
“Surprise me,” he says as a ‘zip’ follows, “don’t worry about dessert, I already know what I want.”
(for @christchex because I truly believe her to be #1 Sanders supporter)
The damn kids are keeping something from him.
None of them are good liars at the best of times, but every time Sanders shows up when Michael’s friends are around, suddenly they go real quiet. At first, he writes it off as stupid youthful hormone shit. It’s probably something to do with that Manes boy that Michael doesn’t want to talk about.
Only, then Alex Manes starts coming around, Michael’s a lot happier, and the weird behavior keeps going.
Something’s up, and it’s something Michael’s actively not telling him.
“You know, I ought to fire you,” Sanders says one Sunday, when he and Michael are working on the sunflower fields.
Michael scoffs, glancing up from the seeding mechanism he’s been working to fix, but he avoids meeting Sanders’ eyes. He’s known this boy since he tripped out of a pod and he knows when he’s about to be lied to. “I’d like to see you try,” he mutters, but his curiosity is sparked. “Why are you bothering to do that when most of my time is volunteered?”
“Because you and your friends are keeping something from me.”
“We’re not,” Michael lies.
“You’re a terrible liar, boy,” Sanders warns, but he lets him get away with it. Just this once, he lets him. Michael waves him off and grabs his bundle of sunflowers to take back to the Airstream.
He doesn’t say what or who they’re for, but Sanders knows. It’s the Manes boy, who’s been lurking around and grinning like an idiot all the time.
With Michael gone, Sanders is left to consider what it is that’s being whispered about behind his back. There’s enough alien secrets in this town to fill a gossip rag, but Michael’s been fairly honest with him recently, even if he’s been trying to hide how gone he is over his thing with Alex Manes.
The truth is this -- he’s an old man.
The boy he used to be is a memory and a distant one at that. He’s taken Walt and locked him away behind mountains of bottles and liquor. There’s so much trauma related to those days that he actively works as hard as he can to forget it, and that’s why it takes him so long to realize that maybe he actually knows a bit more than he realizes when it comes to one of those alien secrets.
The secret they’re keeping comes to roost soon after.
Well, roost ain’t exactly the word.
“They still allow relics like you in this place?”
When Sanders had still been a child and had been happy with Miss Nora and Miss Louise, he’d always recalled their tension around the man they called Jones. They tried to keep it a secret from him then, too, and it’s irritating as hell that history’s repeating it-damn-self.
“Relics like me belong more than you do around here,” Sanders scoffs, tossing the wrench into the toolbox.
“I’m looking for Michael.”
Sanders turns to take in the look of him. He blames his age on the fact that Max Evans never made him feel that icy chill down his spine to spark recognition. All those years with that face in front of him and he never remembered Jones, not until the alien himself busted out and started scaring Sanders all over like he’s a kid.
He’s not a kid, though. He’s an old man tired of this bullshit and he’s not about to let an asshole push him around.
“Michael,” Sanders says sharply, “ain’t none of your business.”
“He’s none of yours either,” Jones says calmly. “Besides, you’re right. It’s not business. It’s family.”
It comes back in fits and starts. Miss Nora’s discomfort with Jones’ hand on her shoulder, but the possessive way Jones held onto her. The way Jones had always seemed more occupied with one of the pods. The possessive and keen look in his eye when he’d looked at Walt dismissively, like a human child that Nora took a liking to could never pass muster.
There’s only one explanation that Sanders sees, but as far as he’s concerned, it’s crap.
“You’re not that boy’s father,” Sanders scoffs. “Or, you might be by blood or whatever alien junk flows through those veins of yours. That boy needed a father growing up and I sure as hell didn’t do the job well enough, but at least I’ve been here. At least I’ve been trying. That’s a hell of a lot more than you can say.”
He’s an old and very stupid man, seeing as he knows how much Jones can hurt him.
That raised alien hand glowing furiously red is a bad sign, but Sanders decides that if this is how he’s going out, defending Michael is the way he wants to go.
“I might have been late getting my act cleaned up, but I still gave him everything I could. I’d die for that boy,” Sanders vows. “For my kid.”
Jones scoffs, amused by Sanders’ loyalty like it’s a joke, but then, he always has been an ass, hasn’t he? “Funny you should say that, because today’s your lucky day for getting what you want.”
He approaches swiftly, but before he can seal that glowing hand on Sanders’ chest, he just … stops.
Sanders refuses to blink. He’s going to stare down his death as long as Jones wants to kill him, which is why he doesn’t notice that he’s being held in place by someone else’s alien powers.
“Try,” Michael Guerin snaps at Jones, where he’s holding a bundle of sunflowers in one hand, and holding Jones in place with the other. “You’re not gonna like what happens to you.”
Sanders is pretty sure Michael’s bluffing and that when it comes to these two, Michael’s not the one with the upper hand.
Still, Jones is playing some kind of long game, because he steps back and lifts both hands up, stepping back and away. “Just two old friends catching up,” he insists, a look in his eyes that says he’s coming back to find Sanders when Michael’s not around.
Still, he goes. He goes and he doesn’t look back, leaving Sanders to exhale, slumping over the pick-up truck he’s been working on.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Michael demands. “Taunting him like that? He’s an evil dictator! He’s…”
“Yeah, yeah, I got the gist decades ago,” Sanders cuts him off. “All I know is what he’s not, and that’s any kind of father to you. Because I might not be the world’s best Dad, but when it comes to it these days, he doesn’t get to swan in and make you feel like you owe him anything. He doesn’t get to make you feel like you belong to him.”
This is all getting too damn emotional for him, but he wants to make one thing clear.
“I know I didn’t manage the way I should’ve, but if anyone’s a father to you these days, it’s me.” With that said, he gives a firm nod, and hopes that he’s not going to do anything embarrassing like start crying about it.
Well, he might not, but Michael’s struggling to keep it together, by the looks of it, so maybe that’s exactly what it is he needs to hear.
“What the hell are you doing back here anyway?” Sanders grunts, when the awkward silence drags on too long.
Michael clears his throat, gesturing to the Airstream with the flowers (and conveniently wiping at his nose). “I forgot some papers that I wanted to go over with Alex,” he says, “Lucky I did, or you would’ve been alien dust.”
“I got a few tricks up my old sleeves,” Sanders promises, even if he doesn’t have them yet. “So. You and Alex Manes, huh? You ready to admit to me that it’s a thing yet?”
Michael wrinkles his nose, but he’s clearly not thinking about Jones anymore, so Sanders considers it a mission accomplished.
“How about you start worrying about how much of a thing it is when Alex needs to come get permission from my Dad to marry me,” Michael quips, and he sounds free and happy and brazen and goddamn high.
It’s the most that Sanders could ever hope for.
“That likely to happen anytime soon?”
Michael shrugs, ducking back out of the Airstream with the papers. “You know I don’t do things slow.”
“Don’t I ever,” he mutters. “Just warn me before I got alien grandchildren running around the damn scrapyard, will you? The place needs to be alien-proofed.”
The look of sheer glee on Michael’s face settles something in Sanders’ chest. He knows he’s happy. He knows he’s settled. He might have missed too many damn years when he was younger, but at least he’s trying now.
“Go on,” Sanders encourages. “Go be with your friend,” he teases.
“You gonna be okay?”
“I’ve survived worse,” Sanders promises. “Now, get,” he insists, and watches Michael leave the scrapyard, off to woo his paramour.
As for him? Well, he’s got a hell of a long drive ahead of him to get to the reservation if he wants to pick up some pollen, but after tonight, Sanders figures he ought to protect himself. He’s got a family to worry about, after all.
i keep forgetting to post things here but a question: how do y'all ficwriters come up with your ideas for fics? like i've been sitting here at my desk for like thirty minutes trying to come up with an idea for a fic i want to make and the gears are turning but nothing's happening
They haven't even stopped at their hotel yet, too excited to see the beach for the first time. Dean parked the Impala wherever he found a spot, not caring that they were both still dressed from the dinner they just had, and followed Cas out towards the ocean. Reaching over to take the hand Cas held out to him.
The sun was setting, beautiful pink and oranges covered the sky making Cas look like he was glowing as he walked a few steps ahead of Dean. The sand pilling into their shoes didn't stop then from finally reaching the water.
Cas stood staring ahead at the fading sun, eyes close with a small smile that grew when he took a deep breath of ocean air. His arms spreading as if he was about to let his wings loose and he was getting ready for take off. Though, Cas wouldn't just leave him like that. Not anymore.
Dean watched for a second before taking his camera out, aiming it at his husband. "Turn around, Cas. Let me see that smile!"
Cas turned to face Dean, the ocean a beautiful background as he recorded his husband smiling up to the sky. Spinning as a low chuckle shook his shoulders and Dean watched in amazement. Watched as his husband was finally free to feel the sun on his face without fear.
Dean walked in long strides to grab his husband and pull him into a kiss. Feeling finally free to love and be loved. To live and be happy.
Hi Hi! Can you do a Tommy x moobloom!reader with bee wings. Where Tommy stumbles upon reader hanging with a swarm of bees in flower field or something similar? Sorry to bother you if your requests aren't open :')
Summary: Reader is sitting in a field making a flower crowns when Tommy comes and claims it's his field. Fluff ensues.
You sit in a flower field, your fingers nimbly weaving together a flower crown. You feel at peace, like you always do in this biome.
The gentle breeze combined with the fragrant smell of flowers and the peaceful buzzing of the bees conversations makes you feel safe. To you, it's the image of tranquility.
You pick another dandelion and add it to the crown, full of cornflowers and multiple colors of tulips.
You start humming, a small tune your mother used to sing to you before she passed a few years ago. It adds to the serine scene around you.
A butterfly lands on your head and you giggle. A bee lands in your lap and you gently pet it's fuzzy back while you weave the crown. It hums contentedly. Another bee lands close to your legs and you put down the flower crown to scratch the soft fuzz on his back.
The bee in your lap starts to wiggle, so you take your hand off her back and she flies away. Another bee immediately takes her place, and you notice the air around you is full of the buzzing of the bees.
All you can see is their soft bodies, spindly legs, small black eyes, and translucent wings. You laugh and gather a few into your arms and hug them. Your own translucent wings start fluttering happily. It feels nice to be part of a hive again.
After a few minutes of being swarmed by the bees you softly shoo them away. At their dissatisfied buzzes you roll your eyes light heatedly. "I've given you all more than enough cuddles, I want to finish my flower crown."
Out of the corner of your eye you see a figure approaching. You hum, knowing the bees will protect you if you need them too.
The figure keeps approaching, and the closer he gets you notice that he's tall and blond, with small fuzzy little raccoon ears poking out of his curls. He looks to be around your age, but better taken care of than you. He settles down next to you. "What are you doing here?" he asks.
You look at him. "Um," you say eloquently.
"This is my field, bitch."
"Says who?" you ask.
"Says me." He hesitates a moment, then places a sign that says 'TOMMYS FIELD'.
You aren't entirely sure what the fuck is going on, but, hey, you're willing to roll with it. "Sure it is." You turn to the bees who are looking at the new person on the field with distrust. "Pst," you whisper to the bees, adding a slight buzz into your words so they understand you. "The new guy, Tommy, he loves cuddles. He can give you some while I finish my crown."
The bees happily hum and start swarming Tommy. Underneath their drone you hear a muffled noise, which you identify as Tommy. "What the fuck. What the fuck did you do," he pauses. "God damn it I don't know your name. Fuck, uh."
"Y/n," you laugh. "Okay okay guys," you say to the bees. "He's done. I'm almost done with my crown anyways, I can give you guys pets."
The bees fly away from Tommy, landing all over you, and you laugh while you pet a few of them.
"What the fuck did you do bitch?" Tommy seemed to have calmed down a bit now that the bees had stopped swarming him, but he still seemed shaken. Which, you could understand. It must have been a bit jarring for bees to just randomly swarm you.
"Well," you smile. "First, my name is y/n, not bitch. And I just told them you wanted some cuddles. They're very cuddly."
"What the fuck are you. You're clearly a hybrid," Tommy gestures at your bee wings. "But what's," he gestures vaguely at the buttercup on your head. "That. And what type of hybrid even are you?"
"Ah," you pull a face. "I was wondering when you'd ask that. I'm a moobloom and bee hybrid. And human of course. My father was a moobloom hybrid and my mom was a bee hybrid. So I can talk to the bees, have a few nonhuman traits," you gesture to your bee wings, the buttercup on your head, and your yellow cow tail which is gently flicking under the grass.
"Oh," Tommy responds, slightly surprised. "I've heard of mooblooms before, but I thought they went extinct a long time ago."
You nod. "Yeah, they went into hiding a long time ago, considering how much players hunted them."
"That fucking sucks," Tommy finally sits down next to you, weary of the bees.
"Agreed." You finish up your flower crown, and place it on your head. You immediately start on one for Tommy, getting the feeling that you two would be fast friends. You and Tommy sit and talk for hours, your personalities immediate clicking. You talked about everything, from your pets and friends to your favorite color. When the sun started to set you got up and started to set up camp, ignoring the trail of yellow flowers that spawn behind you where you stepped.
"What are you doing?" Tommy had gotten up and followed you.
"What does it look like?" You ask, not mad but slightly annoyed at Tommy for not seeing the obvious. "I'm setting up camp for the night. I need somewhere to sleep."
"Oh hell no," Tommy looks aghast. "You're not sleeping out here. With the amount of mobs? Fuck no. You're coming to stay with me and my family. You don't need to stay long, but at least stay the night."
You sigh, thinking over the offer. "Okay," you agree. "But only one night."
You end up staying for much more than one night and Phil ends up adopting you
Thank you for reading and requesting!
If you’d like to submit a request please read my rules (which can be found here) first
Billy and Steve had been getting closer after the whole 4th of July happened, especially after Steve had started to help Billy with his recovery and it had brought up deeper feelings for both of them as they spent more days and nights together.
And now after dancing around their feelings for four total months, they had finally confessed.
And it had led them to where they were now, which was in Steve’s bed with both of them shirtless while hesitantly exploring each other’s bodies as Steve leaned down to kiss Billy softly for the first time.
Billy’s body still felt sore after everything, but he slowly moved his arm down Steve’s waist the best he could and pulled the other closer to him which made a happy moan escape from Steve while he himself slowly dragged his own hand down Billy’s chest, over his scars.
”Are you… are you sure you’re not hurting?” Steve had panted out after breaking away from the kiss.
”Yes, Harrington.” Billy had murmured back deeply as he laid down on the bed again so he could look up at Steve better with a small smirk on his face.
Steve had given him a nod after a moment and then gotten on his knees to remove his sleeping shorts while Billy pulled his own underwear down to free his already hard and leaking cock.
He hadn’t felt attractive in months. He had gotten paler and his body was full of healing scars that sometimes still hurt like a bitch - especially if he tried to work out - but the way Steve’s big brown eyes had taken his naked body in with such a softness and the way his eyes had almost turned fully black after seeing his cock had made him feel good.
Like himself again.
(And even a little smug too, which he hadn’t felt in a while.)
Billy had given his lap a small pat which made Steve slowly move so he’d be sitting on top of the other’s thighs with his legs spread open and once he got on top of the other, he had to bite back a moan when Billy’s hands grabbed his thighs and squeezed them roughly.
”Now… get yourself ready and ride me, Steve.” Billy had demanded roughly.
And that’s what Steve did. And continued to do it after two rounds because it all just felt so good and right.
The sex wasn’t anything rough or hard that Steve would’ve expected from the Billy that he knew a year ago.
It was soft, intimate and loving and they had held hands the whole time without taking their eyes off of each other as Steve had bounced up and down on Billy’s lap.
It was their first time together.
A time that they’d never forget and a time that changed everything.
Summary: TVA Loki realises what is missing from his new life; you. With the multiverse now branching endlessly, he searches for you. Soon enough he realises that when two people are meant for each-other, finding another you may not be so simple.
A/N: This could be considered as linked to my fic A Moment in Time. I am planning a part 2 of this also, with a slightly more hopeful ending! Thank you for all the support!
To begin with it had been easy to ignore the strange, scratching spot in his chest. Sure, there was something missing, but it had seemed a minor complaint at the start. He hadn’t even been sure what it was and had often discounted the feeling as some strange side effect from being pulled out of his own reality.
As time had gone by, as strangely as it seemed to in the confines of the TVA, the scratching feeling had expanded. It had spread throughout his entire body, feeling more painful now than aggravating and he had been forced to turn his full attention to the cause. What he discovered he tried to ignore for as long as he could manage; you were missing.
He had known you rather briefly; considering his long lifetime you were a mere blip in his life. Somehow, however, this blip had become a constant buzz in the back of his mind. Everything became a reminder of how you were nowhere to be found.
Soon enough, he resolved that he needed to fix it.
It seemed a simple fix, with the multiverse in utter disarray it would surely require very little effort for him to find you. Or, at least, a version of you. Loki needed to choose carefully; he doubted the other versions of himself would be pleased to find that he had whiled away their version of you. Dealing with himself, however strange that phrase may be, was not something he wanted to be forced to contend with.
So, he needed to find a version of you who was without a corresponding Loki. Supposedly, the multiverse was infinite; his task should be impossible to fail.
To begin with, he took himself through a multitude of universes where he had suffered an untimely demise or otherwise simply did not exist. Without a Loki to get in the way, he would have a clear path at finding you and winning your attention.
The first few didn’t work. It always seemed to be the case that you didn’t exist there either. The apartment he knew you to live in was occupied by a multitude of others; an elderly lady who smelled of dog hair, a young couple who seemed to eat nothing other than takeout, and a young woman who played music with a thumping base that angered all her neighbours.
None of them were you.
He didn’t mind too much, he was patient after all. He was no longer trying to convince himself that he hardly cared to find you, his mind now shifted into working overtime considering how exactly to approach you. Wondering which phrase he should spin to win that curious glint in your eye. The one that told him how intrigued you were with him, despite the way those around you would flutter about with empty warnings of his danger. You had listened, but it was never enough to keep you away entirely.
After the tenth reality without even a suggestion of your existence, even his patience began to wane. Where were you?
As hope was beginning to boil into agitation he tasted success.
As much as he tried to quash it, his excitement sent him rocking back and forth on his heels before he sent a confident knock echoing through the hallway. The sound of your footsteps echoed from beyond the door, coming closer much more slowly than he would like, and he sent a hand slicking his hair back. The handle shifted and the door opened with a whining creak and… oh…there you were.
Hungrily, his eyes drank you in and he doubted he steeled his expression quickly enough for you to miss the smile the sight of you brought him. Any attempt at aloofness now would be wasted.
The relief you brought him was almost shocking in its intensity; but the distraction of you prevented him from paying it any mind. Stupidly, he hadn’t come up with a greeting.
“Hi,” you smiled the word up at him, left hand allowing you to lean against the door. “Can I help you?”
He almost wanted to scold you for opening your door so carelessly to someone who, to you at least, was a complete stranger. The urge to charm you won the battle, however. “I’m sure you can,” Loki told you, lowly, licking his lips as he looked down at you, “may I come in?”
Instead of the darkening of your eyes that he had hoped to incite, your eyebrows shot up and you stifled a laugh. “I’m sorry,” you let out, right hand pressing against your lips as though to keep any further laughter from bubbling out. “What – what did you need?”
That… was not what he had expected.
Eyes narrowing at you, his mind ticked over incessantly – trying to work through some kind of response that would alight the witty repartee the pair of you had once shared.
Looking at you now, however, he realised his previous excitement had been replaced with something more intense – something that pushed him to be more honest than he could ever remember. Longing, that he had never quite noticed the intensity of before, was boring into him.
Sharing the truth with you would likely prove a mistake. It had been hard enough to wrap his own mind around the concept of a multiverse, and his mystical experiences stretched far beyond your own terrestrial one, but he wanted to rush to some conclusion where the two of you picked up right where he had left you.
“This might sound strange,” he began – dropping all pretences of playfulness in his rush to connect with you, “but this reality-“ Your laughter sliced through his attempted explanation and he felt his eyebrows crunch together as he tried to work out what was wrong with this version of you.
Taking apparent pity on him, you answered his silent question. “Let me guess,” you told him, stepping forward to look up at him with such a winning smile he almost lost his breath, “you’re a Loki from another dimension and as crazy as it sounds we’re meant to be?”
Stuttering, he cleared his throat with a shake of his head. “Uh-well,” he forced himself to maintain a steady tone of voice even as the surprise of your foreknowledge shook him entirely, “’meant to be’ isn’t quite how I would put it.” Forcing his usual smirk into his words, he sauntered a step nearer to you – confidence usually bolstered through his figure at your nearness but now he felt as though you had somehow swallowed up his boldness and claimed it as your own. A weapon you seemed to be wielding expertly against him.
“Although, I know you find my presence magnetic,” the lowness of his voice detracted from the nerves obvious in his darting eyes.
You laughed in his face.
It wasn’t a cruel laugh, you clearly weren’t mocking him, there was a lightness behind it. The lilting noise warmed him, despite the frustration it brought. “I’m sorry,” you told him again, hand on his arm squeezing lightly. “It’s just… you’re not the only Loki who’s come here. There’s so many of you now.”
This was getting out of hand.
“What?” He asked shortly, frustrated that he clearly didn’t understand this situation as well as he had previously thought.
A flat smile met the sounds of his frustration and you stepped aside to beckon him inside. “Come in.”
He obliged immediately. Stepping through your doorway his gaze swept over your apartment – searching for details that would reveal this new version of you to him. It was neat, much like the apartment his version of you had kept, except there were more books stacked upon the shelves. His version of you preferred to read on a tablet, heavy tomes not suited for the large amount of travel you were often forced to endure.
“Would you like a drink?” Your voice pulled him back to you and he shook his head no. At his rejection you jumped straight into an explanation of your own. “Okay, well, we’re not sure what but… something strange must have happened recently.” You began, sitting on your rickety coffee table, the coffee rings he had expected replaced with coasters in this reality. “There’s been a few of you, turning up and looking for me.” A wry smile curved your lips as you spoke, eyes following his movement as he sat across from you.
“Where are they?” It seemed an appropriate question. He certainly wasn’t planning on leaving you, he had worked so hard to find you and couldn’t imagine giving you up now. Why would other versions of himself feel any different?
Thrumming your fingers against the table, you chuckled with a shrug. “This wasn’t their reality, they’ve got their own versions of me but…” your fingers traced the grain of the table as you finished, “they just got a little lost on their way back.”
Between the lines of your explanation he found a truth that gave him his way in. “Leaving you here all alone?” The question was posed as he leaned forwards, one arm resting against the table as he pushed closer.
“Not quite,” you told him, an excitement lighting your eyes as you tapped down at your phone. Sliding the phone over the table towards him, you averted your gaze with a rosy flush overtaking your cheeks. “See?”
Letting his eyes linger on the colour warming your cheeks, he took hold of the object you had handed him without looking down. Your gaze met his, flicking pointedly to the phone in his hand. Following this silent instruction, he turned his attention to the screen.
A bright smile of yours shone up at him, the glaze in your eyes signifying inebriation, your figure tucked beneath the arm of a taller woman. Confused, he narrowed his eyes. He looked over your surroundings, looking for whatever detail it was you were expecting him to notice, but the background was so blurred with the movement of the photographer that any detail was lost.
Looking back up at you, he raised his eyebrows. “And what is this?” The question was posed slowly, he was becoming concerned that this version of you was unable to follow the twists and turns of your conversations.
If the expression upon your face were any indication, you were having the same thoughts about him. Standing up, you made your way around the table to stand beside him. With a hand on his shoulder you rooted his entire attention towards you even as you gestured for him to look back at the photo.
“Look,” you pushed, the tone of voice enough to make him obedient. The photo shone up at him just the same as it had before, he still could not decipher the meaning. With a single pointing finger, you drew his eyes to the woman embracing you.
Raven hair fell past her shoulders, slicked back and looking almost wet. Pale skin clashed with red lips that were pulled up in a half smirk as she looked down at you. Eyes that he was sure would be green were cast away from the camera, looking down at you.
“That’s,” he started, cutting himself off at the disappointment of yet another version of you lost to him, “me.” He hadn’t thought to check for a female version of himself.
He looked up at you, nodding down at him without seeming to understand the impact of what you had just told him. “We met a few years ago,” your eyes moved past him, fixing on some faraway spot on the wall. “It took a lot of time, you guys don’t warm up to people that quick y’know.” A laugh rumbled your chest. “But we learnt to trust each-other.”
You looked back down at him, eyes widening with realisation as you seemed to notice the tightness of his expression. He knew even this version of you well enough to recognise when your voice softened into reassurance. “Your version of me is out there, from what I can gather every version of me has a version of you,” you made a twisting gesture with your hands as you continued, “and vice versa.”
If you had thought those words would help, you were wrong. The realisation that he had left his version of you, that you had been pruned because he had had the audacity to go off script, and that there was no other version of you that would belong to him in quite the same way; it left him feeling unbalanced, as though the world had been sent off kilter somehow.
His lips twisted as he looked back down at the photo. The screen had gone blank, where he had hoped to find your smiling face he was left instead with his own reflection. Where was he supposed to go now?
“You’ll find them,” the timbre of your voice was now only making it worse.
Pushing the phone away, so harshly it nearly slipped off the edge of the table, he stood harshly. The chair he had perched on almost teetered entirely backwards to slam into your carpeted floor. You stepped back, patience pouring from you – more evidence that you were accustomed to a Loki of your own.
“And how do you suppose I do that?” He seethed at you, stepping forward to jab an angry finger at you. “My reality was pruned, destroyed, so where - pray tell - is my version of you?”
Faced with this first question you couldn’t answer, you recoiled. “I-I don’t know.”
Emptiness replaced the scratching in his chest as he looked over you once again. He hadn’t noticed it before, too full of anticipation with seeing you again, to realise what was missing.
When he first met you, his version of you, there had been sparks in the air between you. He had felt like his hair must be standing on end every-time you had come close, a warmth spreading through his body like a comforting ember at your nearness. He had once thought or even hoped the feeling would go away, but now he wanted nothing more than to look at this version of you and feel that same buzz.
But there was nothing.
His version of you, the version that fit him perfectly, was not here.
You were not anywhere.
He had seen that damned tesseract at his feet, picked it up without a second thought, and had unknowingly left you forever.
The door slammed heavily in his wake as he hurried from your apartment. Hurried from the building. Hurried from this horrible revelation that had been so unknowingly forced upon him.
Summary – [You’re the problematic heiress of your father’s blooming crime den who’s getting her fifteenth bodyguard this month. Everyone warned Jeongguk that you’re crazy but he’s up for a good challenge.]
Warnings – smut, sexual tension, blowjob, handjob, praise, sub! jungkook, dry humping, teasing, sexual fantasies, mention of masturbation
Word Count – (4.3k)
Taglist: @safi4x, @yzkyzkuniverse, @staerryminimini, @unicornbabylover, @mwitsmejk, @agustdjoon, @jinscharms, @preciouschimine, @taeshuworld, (Interact with this post if you want to be part of my taglist or send me an ask!)
You roll the seasoned chicken around your plate with your fork. The rice feels plain to your tastebuds as you fiddle with your phone, not even your beloved online poker could get your mind to relax and enjoy your late dinner like you intended to. It’s unlike you to be so affected just because of some pervert diplomat but it has been the third incident this month.
It was the first time that someone stood up for you though. Your previous bodyguard didn’t bother to make sure you felt safe and even now when you think back to the death glare Jungkook shot that Chinese businessman throughout the whole deal it makes a tiny smile dance in the corner of your mouth without you knowing.
The house is quiet anyone is either in their room resting as you’re well into the night or out doing something for your father. The staff went home around 10 like always.
Your father is out drinking with an old friend and Jimin as the head of security with other bodyguards are out as well to ensure his safety. Taehyung offered to keep you company sensing your decreased mood but you declined it’s his sister’s fifth birthday party today and you would have felt bad if you hogged him all to yourself on an important date like this.
Jungkook is probably in his room. While you try not to pry into his habits since it would mean that your interest runs deeper than your professional bodyguard and protected relationship you can’t help but notice some things. It’s inevitable as you spend most of your time by his side even if he’s a mere shadow of you during the day while you do your tasks as the future queen of the L/N Dynasty as your father likes to call it.
Normally after you give him the go that he can have the rest of his night for himself he leaves for a few hours to go to the gym. At least you assume he’s going there since he always seems to wear casual clothes and there’s an unmistakable gym bag in his hand and once he’s back he’s covered in sweat and the shower goes off after his door closes behind him. The walls are thin this is how you recognise the pattern of his routine as of late. You’re always in your room when he comes and goes but it doesn’t mean that you’re not attentive.
This time however you’re not between the familiar four walls of your room. You pull out a wine bottle from one of the cabinets and sigh when you see that you’ll need a corkscrew if you want to drink tonight. You search around the kitchen for one but it looks like you won’t be drinking anything without the help of something to open up the bottle.
You hate the idea that you have to disturb Jungkook with something as insignificant as this when you already said you won’t need his services as he doesn’t get time for himself otherwise but you really need that glass of wine. So you find yourself pacing in front of his door contemplating if you should just forget about it and go to sleep.
Screw it. It won’t take long anyway. You patiently wait for him to open the door once you found the courage to knock.
”Are you alright? Do you need something?” You’re stunned into silence when Jungkook appears. He’s taller than you that leaves you face to face with his bare chest.
You take a long step back to get in a comfortable distance and just after you ensured you backed away respectfully that you look up at his face. His hair is dishevelled and damp from his shower, you try not to focus on the fact that he’s standing in front of you with just a towel covering his modesty tightly wrapped around his waist.
”I- I’m sorry! It’s n-not important anyway forget I was even here.” You internally panic as you catch Jungkook’s brows furrow in confusion, you avoid making eye contact with him and are about to make a run for it to the next door that’s yours when he catches your wrist and pulls you back to stand before him.
”What is it? It's surely not nothing if you’re here. Why are you embarrassed?” This is not the right time to admire how sparkly his doe eyes are as he sizes you up with a confused but cute head tilt. You make the mistake of letting your eyes wander lower than his face taking in his firm chest and strong thighs while his skin glistens with the droplets of water from his shower. He was clearly going to get dressed when you carelessly knocked on his door. He probably thought that it’s an emergency this is why he opted for opening the door rather than telling you to wait.
”Y- You’re naked! Of course, I’m embarrassed! Get dressed first it’s nothing important really I just wanted your help for something but forget about it I c- changed my mind.”
You turn your gaze to the side knowing that if you continue to ogle at his perfect body the blush that you’re fighting against to appear on your skin will probably take over.
”Fine. Wait here, don’t go anywhere.” He lets go of your wrist to grab the doorknob but doesn’t move for a few minutes to make sure you’ll follow his instructions. Once you nod your head he closes the door most likely to comply with your wishes and put some clothes on.
Jungkook dressed in the first things he could grab from his closet to not make you wait for long he’s done within mere minutes he didn’t even care to comb his hair even though he’s sure it’s all over the place.
”So what do you need my help for?” You avoid looking at him altogether this time that just further deepens the confusion. He’s never seen you so shy before, you’re always so professional and quiet except when you’re with Namjoon.
”It’s stupid. I told you to just forget about it.” Jungkook finds it irritating that you don’t even give him an ounce of your attention. Something possesses him when he hears your stubborn answer. He can’t keep the itch out of his fingers not to put his index under your chin to guide your face to look at him with a simple tilt.
”Y/N. Just tell me.” Your breath hitches when he uses a warning tone. Hearing your name spoken by him shouldn’t make your eyes glaze over with a feeling you rather not put a name to it.
”I wanted to drink some wine-” You start explaining before you cut yourself off mid-sentence. Realising how stupid it sounds when you say it out loud. Jungkook is having none of it though as he grips your chin a little harder to prompt you to finish what you started.
”I can’t open it and I can’t find the fucking bottle opener. I told you it’s stupid, you probably think that I’m an entitled bitch, even more than before, to disturb you for something so insignificant as this.”
You sigh as you let it all out, letting your eyelids flutter closed in the process to avoid looking into his eyes. You can’t move away as Jungkook still has a close grip on your chin to tilt your head upwards.
”Where’s the bottle?” Jungkook’s question, not just only makes your eyes open in an instant but you look at him with wide eyes.
He completely ignores the last part of your sentence since he doesn’t want to lie to your face and say that his initial opinion of you was anything different but also doesn’t want you to think that he still thinks that way. He knows that you’re still that crazy chick who bet your previous bodyguards body parts but he also knows that you didn’t do anything crazy since he become your protector.
He learnt to respect you and you did the same. In the beginning, Jungkook was just as an entitled jerk as you were a crazy chick.
”In the kitchen.” You answer, still stunned that he didn’t try to mock you in any way.
”Lead the way petal.” You desperately try to keep your reactions at bay at the sudden nickname. Jungkook never addressed you as anything else but Miss Y/N before.
Maybe it’s the late night or the lack of sleep since he was awake memorising the casino’s layout for next week’s event that he let this little slip up. Things between you were better than before, it was still professional but the silence was not awkward or unnerving as before.
If Jungkook can be honest with himself he would say that he even liked being in your close proximity. He liked watching you play online poker on your phone when you were bored or waiting, grinning with each win or see you fool around with Jimin and playing pool in the game room. He liked watching you work out as well.
Seeing the sweat glisten on your skin as your chest heaved due to the strain in your lungs after an intense session with Taehyung. It took a lot of self control on his part to stop his body from improperly reacting to you.
He would never tell anyone but he rubbed a few out in his bathroom panting your name quietly knowing how thin the walls are but on days when he felt a little bold he would let a few moans slip with the intent that you’re listening. He imagined you in different positions each one more compromising than the previous one. What he doesn’t know is that you fantasised about him too.
Why wouldn’t you? He’s breathtakingly handsome and caring. He made you soak your underwear countless times when he showed off his strength or opened the door for you.
You like to be in charge but you truly wouldn’t mind if he wanted to bend you over the counter at this moment in your kitchen all the while anyone could just walk by and catch you.
Your thoughts turned more innocent as you watched Jungkook use a lighter to push the cork out of the bottle. He explained that the heat creates pressure building up in the bottle that pushes the stopple out. He even went as far as to pour you a glass.
When you offered him another glass so he can join you you wholeheartedly thought that he’ll draw the line yet again.
Politely say no and go back upstairs into his room but he surprises you with a nod. He took a seat next to you a lot closer than he normally would and started to sip on his wine while a show went on on the tv before you. It felt oddly domestic to sit with him and watch some tv, something that you haven’t done in a while.
It was an old comedy that got you immersed as soon as you could properly focus on the plot and not dwell on the warm body pressed to your side. You’re unable to ignore how your thighs are firmly pressed against each other, the couch is big enough to fit four people at least. He really doesn’t have to sit this close to you but you’re not complaining at all. Your heart flutters when Jungkook drapes the comforter that was folded on a nearby chair around your shoulders.
The bottle is on the glass table in front of you completely empty. After the first one Jungkook opened up another bottle of the same red wine and by the end of it, you could feel how the liquid warmed up your cheeks. You’re a bit tipsy but nothing you can’t handle. Jungkook seems to be in the same state since he doesn’t realise how his hand landed on your naked thigh under the warm blanket.
You’re only in your nightshirt and some cotton panties as originally you planned to go to sleep as soon as you ate dinner. It’s been a long time ago that you had sex and the wine circulating in your system made you hornier it didn’t help either that Jungkook’s thumb started to draw on your skin. It looked like he’s focused on the show but secretly he was looking for any sign of discomfort. When he heard the hitch in your breath he dares to slip closer to the edge of your panties line.
The front door suddenly opened and both you and Jungkook jumped on the couch. He removed his hand from under your blanket like your skin burnt him. Jimin and your father came into view as the head of security guided your drunk father into the estate while the old man leaned his whole weight on his employee.
You stand up immediately to get a closer look, everything seems fine as you look him over for injuries but when you can only see the deep crimson cheeks and the strong smell of alcohol on your father’s breath you heave a sigh of relief.
Jimin looks between you and Jungkook. His eyes next land on the two finished bottles of wine and hears the tv going in the distance that lets him know what you two were doing before they arrived. He arched an eyebrow when you were still inspecting your father missing Jimin and Jungkook’s silent interaction entirely.
”I’ll get him to bed. Do you mind If I join you two later? We can watch a movie.”
You nod your head without looking up from your father as he blabbers on and on about that he had a good time catching up with his friend.
You smile and listen before Jimin grips your father’s waist and tugs him in the direction of the stairs. You say your goodnight and kiss his cheek that puts a rare smile on your father’s face. It’s been a while since you saw him so carefree. He’s always a lot chattier when he had a drink or two.
”Do you have popcorn?” Jungkook turns to you once Jimin and your dad go up.
He tries to not show his frustration about getting interrupted. He really wanted to touch you and he was sure you would have let him if the front door didn’t open that moment when he was about to reach your clothed core.
You’re tipsy and still turned on but you push it to the side as you rummage through the cabinets searching for anything to munch on while you three watch a movie, now that Jimin will join you there’s no way you two could continue where you left off.
Maybe it’s for the best, you don’t want things to get awkward between you and Jungkook once this night ends. Jimin probably sensed that something was going on and decided to watch you two so you don’t do anything you’ll regret later.
You pull your legs up this time when you curl under the blanket sitting between Jimin and Jungkook the popcorn is in your hands so the two boys can reach it as well.
Halfway through the movie, the slight buzz in your head disappears sobering up entirely.
Unfortunately, the heat Jungkook ignited in you with his touch didn’t disappear along with it. Sober, tipsy or drunk you want him to touch you. It felt like the movie will never come to end whilst all you wanted to do is go to your room and shove your hands down your underwear. You broke up with your boyfriend two years ago and no one touch you since. You’re always busy so you never felt the need before to have someone by your side for a very long time. Until now.
”Let’s finish this another time. I’m tired and I’ll have to wake up early tomorrow.” You tell the half-lie to Jimin as in fact you need to wake up early but you’re not feeling tired at all.
You just want this spontaneous movie night to be over so you can be alone with Jungkook and see if he’s still up for touching you or even better, letting you touch him.
Jimin’s room is at the other end of the estate far away from your room. No one really stays at this wing just you and your father but his room is far enough not to worry about him.
Not that you otherwise have to, considering how drunk he is, the old man is probably out like a light until tomorrow morning.
To your relief, Jimin doesn’t seem to catch onto your plan or ignores it knowing that you’re stubborn enough. It doesn’t matter which one is it though once he’s finally out of sight.
The tv is turned off, the living room is enveloped in comforting silence, you stall pretending to straighten up the room, waiting. Collecting the popcorn on the couch that had fallen out of the bowl.
You’re bent over the armrest as you pick them up one by one. Intentionally letting your nightshirt ride up on your thigh revealing your black panties for Jungkook to see as he watches you clean up.
”Tell me. Are you doing this on purpose? Do you feel this? This is what you do to me.”
Jungkook is right behind you when you hear his raspy voice finally giving in. Both hands planted on your waist to guide your hips back to meet with his front, rubbing his erection onto your ass shamelessly. You bite your lip to stifle a moan you’re still inside the living room. If you get caught you’ll have to stop and you don’t want to stop. You don’t know how far Jimin is as well, you need to be careful no matter how hard it is to pull away.
”Bedroom. We can’t get caught Jungkook.” You whisper the words into his mouth. It’s the closest the two of you got to a kiss but not quite.
”Yours or mine?” His pupils are blown out when you find his gaze. You’re caught off guard when he rolls his hips right into your core not waiting for your answer. You can’t stop the moan before it’s too late.
”Mine.” You tell him. Even when he knows the meaning behind your words his mind wanders to a different kind of meaning that makes his skin crawl pleasantly.
You need to get into your room before this escalates. You let him hold your hand tightly as he pulls you behind him up the stairs and into your bedroom seemingly on the same page as you. It’s arousing to see the otherwise patient man lose it to get his dick wet.
”I want your cock in my mouth.” You confess that has been on your mind and in your fantasies for a while.
Jungkook shudders when he hears the desire in your voice like you will die if you can’t have him down your throat right now. His cock is throbbing at the promise of your warm heat and perfect lips wrapped around his shaft. He wants that too maybe even more like you do.
You’re surprised to feel him shake under your fingers when you pull his pants down. You kiss his hipbone to calm him, slowly guiding him to sit on the edge of your bed and encourage him to get comfortable as you lower yourself down to your knees between his parted legs.
You caress his inner thighs with your hands to keep the mood up as you lean to kiss him for real this time with teeth and tongue. There’s nothing innocent in it as you moan into his mouth at the taste of popcorn and expensive wine you both consumed.
”Talk to me. Do you want me to touch you? I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want me to.” He was so confident while rubbing his aching cock on you in the living room, however, his demeanour changed when you offered him pleasure.
Your mind is a mess of desire but you could still recognise that he’s becoming anxious when it comes to receiving and not giving.
”I- I want it!” Jungkook moans when you palm him over the fabric of his underwear.
Gentle as you rub your palm up and down the length of his cock, caressing the leaking tip with your fingers. The last item that comes between you and his straining erection is getting darker with his precum as you spread the wet patch with your hands.
”J- just be gentle, please.” He adds later as a shy afterthought. You didn’t think he’ll succumb to you so naturally as soon as you start touching him. It’s clear as day that he’s anxious to give up his power even though that’s all he can think about wanting to do but something holds him back to fully enjoy it. Submitting to you makes him anxious.
While you don’t know what kind of sexual encounter made him fear to give in to his desires you’re going to make sure that he enjoys every second of it with you.
”Tell me if you want to stop any time and I will.” Jungkook nods his head, his eyes shyly meeting yours, it’s the most intimate moment that you’ve shared with someone in a while.
You can see it in his warm brown eyes how he lets his walls down in front of your very own being and trusts you with making him feel good.
You blow air just right below the wet patch on his underwear, your mouth is close enough for him to feel the heat of it on his clothed dick. Close enough to tease but too far away to give him pleasure. You build up his anticipation by letting your tongue flick out and lick his length. Jungkook’s getting frustrated to see your mouth work on him but he can’t feel you properly because of his underwear being in the way.
Observing the frustrated furrow of his brows you give in after another lick and order him to lift his hips off the bed so you can remove the last fabric that conceals his perfect body from your hungry eyes.
Jungkook’s eager to follow your instructions as he lets you pull the fabric down his legs. The way his hands are gripping your bedsheets tell you that he wants to wrap his hand around himself to relieve the ache between his legs so bad he has to physically hold back and deal with the feeling of his hard length hitting his lower stomach.
You don’t want to make him upset so you refrain from teasing him any more than this. It seems like you’re not the only one who was deprived of another partner’s touch since he’s so sensitive to anything that you do to him. You start with licking the head of his cock where he’s most sensitive and move downwards soaking his length with your saliva mixed with his precum that oozes from the slit on his tip diligently.
”I’ll get the lube from my desk, I’ll be back in no time, ok?” Your desk is behind him where he won’t be able to see you so you make sure to reassure him you’re not leaving him hanging in case he’s still feeling insecure. Jungkook nods again, seemingly lost his voice after you started working on his cock.
You kiss him again since it looks like to make him feel at ease.
”You’re doing so well. I like hearing you, seeing you like this. You’re so beautiful. Muscular and firm in all the right places.” You encourage him to moan louder when you smooth the lube all over his length, pumping him languidly to ease him into the feeling before you tighten your hold around him and go faster.
”And your eyes. Those beautiful doe eyes. I think that’s my favourite part of you so far even though everything about you is beautiful. I want you to keep them open so I can gaze into them. Will you keep them open for me?” You caress his cheek with your free hand while you never let your pace falter with the one on his length.
Tears are gathering in his bottom lash as he complies, watching you obediently when you finally take his cock into your mouth, keeping your eyes locked. Moaning at the taste of his salty precum that you lap up with a circular motion of your tongue.
”Where do you want to cum?” You come up for air and to ask him what he wants. You work your hand around him in slow drags as your other takes care of teasing his tip, giving him all these different sensations that will eventually lead him up to the point when he can’t hold his need to cum.
”In your m-mouth! Please!” You take him back into your mouth, bobbing your head faster, going down deeper than before. Giving him the feel of your throat tightening around his length, swallowing while you try to control your breathing and keep your nose touching his lower stomach. It doesn’t take long until he releases his seed in your mouth.
You keep just the tip inside as you lick and suck, drinking every last drop of his release focusing on the sweet noises he lets out for you as you prolong his high.
You clean his softening length with tissues that you gathered from your bedside table and watch him in case he’ll suddenly jolt up and start panicking but it seems like he’s still coming down from his high as he pants softly, eyes closed and for the first time completely relaxed on your bed.
”Fuck. I’m tired.” Jungkook chuckles, his voice is raspy from all the moaning. You’re pleasantly surprised that he’s not panicking at all or telling you that this was a huge mistake like you thought he would. He’s very uptight in his work and mixing work with personal matters is a recipe for disaster, however, you can’t seem to find a single bone in your body to care anymore. You don’t regret doing this with him.
Hi, I don't know if you're still taking requests but, could you write on this? It's a Purge night in the city, and all the Villians are gathering up to do some real damage. As it's the purge night, and any crime they do, they won't be getting arrested or anything for it. So this time, all the villians have gathered up together to take their revenge on [Hero]. And it was [Hero] who beat them up, locked them up, and all for all the crimes they ever did. And now, they all seek vengeance. And [hero] is unaware of the catastrophe that's about to come onto them.
Just when this attack was getting planned, [villian] heard about it, and their heart went still. They ARE a part of that group that's going to attack on Hero, and they have to do all that they can, to save them from this.
You don't have to answer if you find it weird tho! It really is😂💀
this is not weird at all, anon. it’s a great idea, so thanks.
The hero sighed, looking down at the pavement as they walked. They just wanted to go home, stumble into their pajamas, and go to sleep. Unfortunately, they were hardly even halfway through their patrol for the day. So, it seemed that they had a long way to go. Sighing dramatically, the hero kept walking, occasionally glancing around for any suspicious activity. Honestly, they felt like a police dog-being sent to do whatever the agency wanted. Seriously...
Suddenly, they felt someone crash into them, sending them falling into a nearby alleyway. Groaning, they pushed themselves to their feet, and looked around to see what had hit them.
The hero whipped around, dread coiling in their stomach when they realized that the villain was standing in the dimly lit alleyway. Grimacing, they took a cautious step backwards, frowning when the villain matched that with a step forward.
“Hi,” the hero replied hesitantly, looking around the deserted alleyway. It was pretty dirty, surrounded by grimy brick walls and garbage bags littering the ground. “Was that you that crashed into me?” they asked, lightly kicking the garbage bag in their path.
“No, that was the raccoon in that dumpster,” the villain remarked in annoyance, disgusted expression on their face as they took another step into the dirty alleyway. The hero glanced over to where they were pointing, rolling their eyes as they saw the raccoon scavenging through the trash. “Yes, I crashed into you,” the villain huffed. They made a show of brushing off their coat and pants, and the hero had to resist the urge to roll their eyes. Instead, they voiced their thoughts.
“Why did you feel the need to tackle me off the street?”
“You don’t know,” the villain muttered to themselves in disbelief. The hero looked at them blankly. “Of course you don’t- you absolute idiot.” They continued to swear colorfully, calling the hero names they hadn’t even heard of. Some of them were quite creative, the hero had to admit.
“Know what?” the hero asked, immediately regretting asking when they saw the villain facepalm. They swallowed their pride and listened silently as the villain began to explain.
“Every villain ever is after you right now,” the villain said, gesturing emphatically. Their eyes were wide, and they seemed to be searching the hero’s face for some sort of reaction. It almost looked like they were... concerned? No, the hero thought to themselves. The villain doesn’t do concern. “And by every villain, I mean literally every villain except me.”
The hero swallowed hard. “What- why?” they exclaimed. “What did I do? I’m just doing my job, it’s nothing personal-” they broke off, realization setting in. “Wait... except you?”
“Uh no- no, that’s not what I said,” the villain stumbled. “I’m just letting you know. I’m just the messenger,” they continued, voice cracking. The hero took a mental note of the way the villain fidgeted, eyes flitting around as if they couldn’t make eye contact with them.
“Still,” the hero squinted at the villain. “You didn’t have to tell me. You could’ve just let me get jumped by this villain group, so. why didn’t you?” They were struggling to understand why the villain would tell them, help them-
“Um,” the villain answered eloquently. The hero stared at them, eyebrow raised as they waited for their response. “You know.”
“Just spit it out,” the hero snapped, adrenaline coursing through them. The villain flinched at the sudden outburst, before clearing their throat awkwardly.
“Yes, well,” the villain tried to say. “I just- I need you. You balance me out. Without you, I wouldn’t really be much of anything, I guess.” The villain had the grace to look embarrassed, cheeks flushed.
The hero stared at them in silence. Was that really what they meant to the villain? Was their relationship truly that complex? Yes, it is, they thought to themselves.
“It’s your choice,” the villain shrugged nonchalantly. “Either you come with me willingly, or, well... unwillingly.” What did they just say? Willingly or unwillingly?
“It doesn’t sound like you’re giving me a choice,” the hero whispered, shoving their hands in their pockets to hide their shakiness. What would they do? What could they do?
“Nope, no choice, really,” the villain agreed, clapping a hand on their shoulder. “So, I suggest you walk with me now. Unless, of course, you wanted to go the alternative route...” they smirked, reaching into their pocket and pulling out an ominous-looking syringe.
“Okay, fine,” the hero acquiesced. The villain grinned at them, before placing their hand on the small of their back and leading them out of the alleyway. The hero followed, against their better judgement.
“So, where are we going?” the hero asked, trying to distract themselves and steel their nerves. “Your secret base? Ooh, a lair? That would be cool-”
“My house,” the villain replied, glancing at the hero with a strange expression on their face.
Annabeth loved her friends a lot, but she decided a long time ago that her favorite nights were the ones with Percy.
They had done it all. The midnight drives, the parking somewhere randomly and staring at the stars, the getting drunk together in their rooms, the eating at IHOP at 1 am. She loved it with any of her friends, but it was something else entirely with only him by her side.
Maybe it had to do with the fact that she had been in love with him since sophomore year. Maybe not. Who knows?
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; drugging, fingering, loss of virginity, creampie, blood, blowjob, violence.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. It features Brock Rumlow. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Synopsis: Reality sinks in.
Note: What am I doing? You tell me because I still don’t know.
Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya.
You stare at the empty plate as the knife and fork clink in the grease left behind. You spent the better part of the last hour pacing, one moment your eyes peer desperately out the window and the next you're looking at him. Your fear engulfs you as you wring your hands and search your panicked mind for an escape.
"All done, sweetheart," Brock announces, "not half bad."
You hesitate and he gestures to his bare plate impatiently. You cross the room and take it from the coffee table, careful not to get too close. You go to the kitchen and rinse it off, in no hurry to finish.
"Leave that for later, sweetheart," he calls and his deep timbre fills your tiny apartment, "come on out here."
You turn off the tap and dry your hands. You peek out into the front room as you round the corner and his gaze meets yours. He rubs the cushion next to him and pats it.
"Well, I'm ready for dessert," he smirks, "and that dinner earned you a treat."
"I…" you clutch your hands together, frozen in fear. You remember that night and how much it hurt. You still have a scar from the faucet along your hairline.
"Sit," he says firmly and jabs his finger into the couch, "let's get one thing straight, I don't repeat myself."
You swallow through your dry throat and near him. You sit stalk straight and stiff beside him, your sweaty hands gripping your knees to still the trembling. You stare at the television, a blurry haze in your skewed mind.
"Now, let's loosen you up," he reaches over and hooks his fingers under your thigh, the scent of him permeating your nose, "looks like we gotta start all over."
He pulls your leg towards him and you slip back against the couch. He drags you sideways to face him as you land on your back. You yelp in surprise and grasp the arm above your head as he grabs the top of your pants. He tugs until the zipper splits and the button pops off.
"Dammit, just relax, sweetheart," he sneers as he tears your pants down your legs and flings them away, "I got something special for you."
He gets up on his knees and spreads your legs around him. You whimper and turn your head as you try to hide your fear. You feel so weak. You know you have no chance against him, he's too strong, but it makes you no less pathetic.
He pushes up the tee shirt above your chest, the crest of your company crumples at your shoulder. He covers your bra with his large hands and squeezes, the plain cotton thin beneath his calloused fingers. He hums as he fondles you, folding down the cups to pinch your nipples until you squirm.
"You got nice tits," he says as he runs his thumbs around your nipples, "if you weren't so fucking tight, I'd think this whole sweet thing was a lie… but you're nice, aren't you sweetheart?"
"I… don't know," you breathe as you dig your nails into the seam along the couch arm.
"Yes," he says as he bends over you, "I ask you something and you say yes."
"Yes," you gulp out, "yes, I am… nice."
"Mhmm, you are," he pushes his face between your tits as he jiggles them around him, his nose tickling you.
You gasp as he nips and bites as you, growling as his teeth sink into you. There will be marks, like the one he left on your shoulder. You close your eyes as he leaves a thrumming trail down your stomach. His hands crawl along your thighs as he pushes them apart and he bites you there too, making you squeak.
He slaps your hand away from his hand as you reach down to stop him. He growls and nuzzles the crease of your leg, his stubble scratches your skin and sends tendrils up your back. He traces a finger along the edge of your panties and pulls them aside. You tense as you feel his hot breath on your cunt.
"Please," you murmur.
"Oh, you don't have to beg me," he grits, "but I like to hear it."
Your eyes flutter open as he bows his head and you watch him in shock between your legs. His tongue delves between your folds and he drags it up from your entrance to your clit. You gasp at the cool sensation as he makes deliberate swipes with his tongue.
"Mmmm," his dark eyes peek up at you and he presses his lips to you, suckling on your clit. You cry out at the cluster that gathers on your core as his tongue dances around your bud.
He pulls away with a pop and you wince. He licks his lips and hovers over your cunt tauntingly, "you are fucking sweet. Hmmm, so fucking wet for me after walking around like you're scared. You fucking tease."
He dips his head again and laps at you sloppily, humming and snarling loudly as he does. Your thighs press against his head as your back arches and you grasp at the top of your rumpled shirt. It's so overwhelmingly good you can't help but moan and writhe.
You feel your wetness along the edge of your panties as he keeps them twisted against your thigh. You pant as you lose yourself in the torrents of rolling pleasure and hit the cushion as the tension breaks at last.
You cum into his mouth as he greedily drinks it up. But he doesn't stop. Even as you can't stand it and your clit throbs from his tending. You bury your fingers in his dark hair and he covers your hand with his, urging you to push him deeper. He growls and it rumbles through you richly.
A second orgasm piques and your feet arch and cramp. You quiver and huff as your eyes well with tears. The ecstasy turns to agony as you're overstimulated to the point of pain.
You cry out as he forces another climax from you and hugs your thighs as he keeps his mouth firmly on your cunt. He pulls you with him as he sits up and drags your shoulders along the cushion. Your neck bends awkwardly as your weight rests there and you're cradled upside down against his torso.
He relents at last as he lifts his head and his tongue circles his lips. He growls as he pushes his hand down your stomach and gropes your chest.
"That's what good girls get," he says, "go on, get those panties off and turn around."
He drops you as he backs off the couch and unzips his fly. You numbly stand and roll your damp panties down your legs. As you straighten up, he grabs your tee shirt and rips it over your head, your arms catching in the fabric before he can untangle it. He tosses it and yanks on your bra. You unhook it and he swiftly pulls it free
He snaps his fingers and points to the couch. You stumble against it onto your knees and he nudges you against the back. He continues to undress, his clothes piling on the floor as you shiver in anticipation.
He kneels behind you on the couch and pushes his fingers against your cunt. He presses his tip along your entrance and nearly takes you off the cushion as he thrusts into you. You hang your head as the pain scours your body.
He moves one knee to the outside of your leg and does the same with the other. He stays inside you as he pushes your legs together and you feel fuller than ever. His large hand creeps up your neck and he forces your chin up as he squeezes.
His impatience is plain as he bucks into you without pause. The noise of his intrusion reverberates wetly around the room as he crushes you against the sofa. You bite your lip as you struggle to focus on the blank wall before you.
He forces your head back against his shoulder as his grip tightens on your throat and his heavy breaths surround you. You whine as he plunges deeper and harder with each tilt.
"Sweetheart, I can feel how much you missed me," he rasps as he snakes his other hand down your pelvis and teases your clit, "oh, yeah, I can feel you hanging on like you're never gonna let go, hmmm?"
You babble as you cum, fingers curling around the couch cushion. The shame laces through the bliss and leaves you paralysed as he lets go of you. You fall against the couch completely as he grips your hips and pounds into you.
"Fuck it," he snarls and leans back as he spills into you with slick, sloppy strokes.
He eases up and wraps an arm around you as he sighs. He pulls you with him as he turns and splays out over the couch, his cock slipping just a little as you feel his cum leak out. That would be another humiliating trip to the pharmacy.
"Goddamn," he huffs as he brings his hands up to cup your tits, "that was some good dessert."
Brock gets up before you can get your head on straight. Groggy, you watch his shadow dress as he leaves behind a huddle of empty beer bottles on the coffee table. The door snaps shut and you blink as you sit up.
Still on the couch after a night trapped beneath his weight, you’re sore and strung out. You slide onto your feet and spend a bit too long in the shower. You catch the late bus to work, nearly nodding off on the bus as you resign yourself to a cup of the thin coffee served in the home’s cafeteria.
You’re barely able to lead the residents through that day’s origami tutorial before you get into the breathing and stretching exercises. Many of them do the arm extensions and leg raises sitting down but you find the routine helps shake away a sliver of your funk even if the pangs remind you of your restless night.
When you finish, you get out your pass for your venture to the next residence. Your sessions rarely last more than ninety minutes so the agency sends you all over the city. Your downtime on the bus gives you time to catch up on your podcast although that day you can’t quite follow the narrative.
When at last you get home, you dread what awaits you. You drop your keys before you can unlock your door and when you manage to get inside, your apartment is empty. Lifeless and dark, you flick on the light and peer around. The beer bottles stand where you left them that morning and the couch still shows the signs of the previous night’s excess.
You tiptoe to the bedroom to peek through the door. Nothing. He’s not there. You sigh and deposit your coat and shoes on the rack. You enter the kitchen and pull open the fridge. You take out the last bottle of beer and read the label. You don’t have an open so you bend a butter knife to get the cap off.
You take a tentative sip of the hoppy beer as you go out to the living room but can’t bring yourself to sit on the couch. To watch tv in the very spot he did the night before. To think of you on your knees, with him in your mouth, letting him do all that and what did you do about it?
Scared. Pathetic. Weak. That’s what he means when he says you’re sweet.
You go to the bedroom and put the beer on your dresser and strip away your uniform. You fold your legs up in front of you and open up your ancient laptop to buffer up the newest episode of your weekly indulgence. You can’t focus as you expect him to show up at any moment.
When you finally succumb to the fatigue weighted down by the beer in your stomach, you slump onto the pillows and sleep with a crick in your neck. You wake up and the room is still dark. You sit up as a strike of terror hits you. Is he there?
You look around in the dark, your laptop dead by your elbow. You close it and slide it off the narrow bed. You lay back but can’t shut your eyes. You stare at the ceiling as your insides turn to jelly. You wait and listen. Any moment now.
You finally pick up your sister’s call. You’ve been skirting her for almost a month after you tell her you were stood up. You didn’t bother reading her texts after that. Always excuses, always your fault. But your phone shakes as you come out of work and wait at the stop for your bus.
“Hey, about time,” she sneers from the other end, “I’ve been calling you forever. Are you mad at me?”
“No, I’ve been busy,” you say, not entirely a lie, “working a lot.”
“Mmm, you need to get a better job,” she rebukes, “anyway I was going to tell you about Trevor.”
“You mean the ass who left me in that bar?” you utter as the bus pulls up.
“Oh, he didn’t stand you up,” she says as you climb on the bus and show your pass. You head down the aisle and grumble into the speaker, “he’s just got out of the hospital. He got jumped that night.”
“What?” you frown as you turn to sit and grunt as another body quickly claims the seat next to you and closes you in. You’re speechless as you look over at Brock, you didn’t even notice him following you, “jumped?”
“I’ll send you his snap story, you won’t believe it, some guy right outside the bar, drags him into the ally and… well, he didn’t wake up for a few days,” she says, “and you know, he even said he’s sorry for leaving you hanging.”
“Oh, well, I’m sorry that happened to him,” you have a bad feeling as Brock watches you, “tell him I said that. Um, I’m on the bus, I can’t really hear you.”
“Alright, well, pick up next time,” you can hear the roll of her eyes, “and don’t worry, I won’t try to set you up anymore.”
You hang up and Brock snatches your phone from you. He turns it over in his hands then scrolls through your apps and messages. He doesn’t say a word.
“What are you… doing?” you ask.
“Hello to you too,” he say as he holds out your phone between two fingers, “you really are oblivious, aren’t ya, sweetheart?” you shake your head and take your phone. You quickly tuck it away in your purse, “I stood at the stop for ten minutes and you never even saw me.”
“Sorry to me? Nah, you gotta be smarter,” he crosses his arms and you find yourself further pressed to the wall of the bus as his arms bulge, “I don’t want you gettin’ hurt… well, that’s not totally true.”
“How did…” you trail off and look out the window at the streets, the apathetic city passing you by.
“How did I find you? I never lost you, sweetheart. I want you to think about that,” he drops his arms and shifts in his seat, “I had some business and I travel a lot but don’t you fear,” he reaches over and strokes your cheek with his knuckle, “I’ll always come back.”
It happens again. Your hands tremble and your heart pumps furiously. You cling to your purse to keep from showing it. You nod and glance over at him.
“I don’t… understand,” you whisper.
“Now, I don’t want you getting the wrong idea, so let’s clear it up,” he lowers his voice as he snakes his arm over your seat, “it’s nothing like love, I barely like you, but I like fucking you, so you let me and no one else gets hurt.”
Your breath catches. ‘No one else’. You swallow and your lips part as you gape at him.
“You keep that mouth open and I’ll have to put something in it,” he warns, “now that blond kid, he looked sharp, almost as sharp as you. It wasn’t hard to guess who you were waiting for, but he just wasn’t right. You really think he could make you cum like I do?”
You suck in your lip and chew it nervously. Your eyes sting but you hold back tears and peek around the bus. No one seems to notice your discomfort.
“Now don’t pretend like you didn’t enjoy yourself,” he says, “I know you’re thinking of it right now and I’ll be honest, I liked it too. You got a fucking delicious pussy, sweetheart.”
You lower your head in embarrassment. You can’t believe what he’s saying, can’t believe he’s found you in the middle of the city like this. You squeeze the handle of your bag and shudder.
“Now, don’t be scared, sweetheart, I’ll remind you just how much you want it too,” he tugs a hank of your hair and leans in to smell you, “I’m gonna break that fucking couch.”
The little voice was impossible to ignore. Not that Aelin would ever ignore it to begin with, but the cheery little cry echoed through the palace halls and rang with such intensity that everyone would know who was speaking and who would respond.
Aelin smiled as she quickened her pace and turned down one corridor heading deeper into the castle, desperate to follow that little voice.
She'd spent the better part of the morning in meetings and training sessions and the like. It wasn't as though Aelin disliked her duties as Queen. Most of the time she loved it. She loved knowing her home was safe, her home was happy, that her home was hers.
Yet sometimes, it was the hardest duty she would ever fulfill.
Especially when it felt like she never had time for her mate or her daughter.
“Ma, ma, ma.” The chant continued with a litany of song. Aelin shook her head amazed at how loud the girl was, even with Aelin’s Fae senses--her daughter was quite energetic. Every day Maira was becoming more and more like Aelin, so of course she was loud and brazen and confident. All at the age of two.
She found herself in a familiar part of the palace while following the mate bond. She tugged on the cord that stretched between her and Rowan. A chuckle ripple down in response.
Whatever her mate and child were involved in, Aelin was sure it was no good. But she couldn't resist as she snuck toward the great hall.
Typically the great hall was only used for major gatherings or visits from foreign dignitaries that weren’t Dorian or one of their other friends.
At the moment, the hall was empty except for the hanging chandeliers. Wide stained glass windows took up one wall and allowed for a scintillating array of color to lapse in the room. Greens and blues and yellows and reds all came together in a lovely display.
As magnificent as it was, Aelin had eyes only for one thing.
Rowan stood in the center of the hall, moving slowly from side to side. In his arms he held the small form of their daughter on one hip.
“Da, dance,” Mairi said.
“Aye little one,” Rowan murmured his deep voice soft but still strong enough to them through the room. “We’ll dance and show, Mumma.”
Aelin watched as her mate spun in a circle causing Mairi to break out in a fit of giggles.
“Again,” Mairi said and Rowan obliged. Again and again.
“Mama! We dance,” Mairi shouted suddenly.
Aelin froze, instantly outed by her snooping.
“Look at you little princess,” Aelin called out with a grin. She shouldn't have been embarrassed by the scene but there was something about watching her mate dance with their sweet babe that had Aelin’s heart in a stumble.
“Fireheart,” Rowan greeted, his eyes bright as Aelin moved across the stone floor.
“Well who knew you were so talented, dear king,” Aelin teased as she reached them. She gave Mairi a tender kiss on the forehead before reaching up to capture Rowan’s mouth with hers.
The warmth in her chest burned hot and Aelin placed a hand on Rowan's cheek melting into him
“No kisses!” Mairi yelled urgently. Her little hands tugged desperately at her parents to push them apart. “Dance!”
“Dance?” Rowan repeated. “We've already danced, little love.”
“Again,” Mairi declared, her blonde curls bouncing in her face. She pouted and despite her bright green eyes she looked exactly like her mother. “Again. With mama.”
Aelin ran a hand over her pregnant belly and laughed. Mairi seemed to sense things would be changing and that she would be sharing her parents' attention.
It was strange, Aelin had decided, to think about their growing family. To have another babe so soon. A miracle among the fae to be sure and yet Aelin couldn't help but feel overwhelmed at the thought of having another child in her care. And while she already loved the baby growing in her womb she continued to doubt her abilities as a mother.
A small draft of air chilled her neck. Far too direct and distinct to be from a window left open. Aelin narrowed her eyes at Rowan.
He raised a brow in response.
Rowan pulled Aelin close with his free arm, close enough that Mairi was nearly squished between them, but the girl didn’t seem to mind at all. Rather she hummed happily and snuggled deeper into her father’s chest. Slowly, Rowan began to move in a lazy sort of dance. One of unpractised steps and uncounted measures.
“You are incredible,” Rowan murmured, looking down at her. “An incredible Queen, and incredible Mate, and an incredible mother.”
Aelin blinked back the inevitable tears that threatened. Her emotions had been rampant ever since the start of the pregnancy and now was just as bad.
“No talking, dancing,” Mairi said. She wiggled in Rowan’s arms emphatically.
Chuckling, Rowan spun the three of them again keeping the turn easy and light for Aelin’s nausea.
“Mama,” Mairi murmured, sleep already coming over her.
“Yes, little princess?” Aelin whispered back.
“Love you.” The little voice had lost the gusto from earlier and began winding down.
Aelin didn’t bother trying to hold back the tears in her eyes. “Love you.”
Rowan pressed a kiss to her forehead and hummed softly, a familiar tune that Aelin often played on the piano he had gotten her long ago. Aelin pressed her forehead into Rowan’s shoulder and sighed. She couldn’t help but marvel at what the fates had given her, that after all this time she had found peace.