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satoruhour · 9 months

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HIS FAVOURITE W— STUDENT !

a/n: dilly / @crysugu i am losing the pwp war i needed the lore to be in this HELP. anyway !!! professors bc i cannot stop my mind from spiralling while starting my university classes — im not entirely proud of this but eehhh ….

wc: 4k

warnings: ultimately semi-public sex for all, unprotected sex, cumshot, standing doggy, brief oral (m receiving), brief f! masturbation, brief fingering (gojo), geto is a professor who is also a camboy, camgirl!reader, f! and m! masturbation, mentions of bad dragon’s cumtubes, brief fingering, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink (geto), pussy slapping, spitting (on yo pussy), pet names, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, tit play, fingering, implied f! masturbation (nanami), mentions of murder, stripper!reader, riding, degradation, calls you ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, calls you ‘mama’ once too, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, slight face-fucking (toji), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

professor gojo was… an interesting teaching figure. he didn’t have a set way of doing lectures or tutorials, nor was his feedback on assignments entirely coherent, but he was fun and unorthodox. he was also hot as fuck, as you’ve heard from your friends, but you never really got the deal even after seeing his photo on the university website or from miles away entertaining some starstruck student. his classes were always left with no vacancies, too, only able to see what your friends meant after stepping foot first into the lecture.

you were a tad bit early, greeted with gojo sitting at the front with his legs propped up on the desk as he shot you a nonchalant greeting and you think maybe you should’ve signed up for another lecture group, but then he speaks and the air is knocked out of your chest. professor gojo is charismatic when he teaches about art, design and media, captivating everyone with the stark white hair and blue eyes, but he’s clever with his glances because you aren’t realising he stares at you more than anyone else.

aren’t you in your second year? how did he not see you anywhere last year? why did you just sign up?

the smiles he gives you are sweeter than others, the words more sugar coated with lilts in his voice and you’re chastising yourself for not being any different from everyone else, soon turning into the girls who ask for extra tutoring sessions and sidling up to him on campus — at least you’d get the full experience.

“oh! sweetness, what are you doing here?” you’ve managed to get gojo just as he leaves his office, standing outside for quite some time thinking if you’d really want to do this. several lecturers and professors have already walked past asking if you needed anything, but no matter how much you wanted to say professor gojo’s name, it always turned into something like waiting for a friend.

“oh— uhm, professor gojo, just wondering if the grade for that major project is really set in stone?”

gojo makes a show of thinking, but you know you’re asking for the devil himself when he replies yes with a stifled grin and you’re asking if the two week period of appealing works for the major you’re in.

“you can submit other collaterals as an appeal but it might either boost your grade or bring it down,” the professor leans down with a sick smile on his face, because he’s had so many people outside just like this, nervous from his advances and yet not going through with what they thought they could do. but this time it’s you, the you who he imagined taking on his office desk or even in a lecture theatre for everyone to see, who wants the words to fall from your lips just so he could be your knight in shining armour.

“is there really no… other way to appeal?” you swallow when gojo switches the position and gets you in exactly where he wants you: your back facing his office, his face dangerously close to yours while his eyes slyly catching the way your thighs rub together.

gojo smirks to himself when you knock down yet another cup of stationery on his desk after “discussing” ways you could improve your grades, nails making unsatisfactory noises on the wooden desk while he can hear your cunt gush around him, made obvious from the squelch of your hole and he’s muttering praises into your neck from behind.

“this what you had in mind, baby?” just another girl in his roster, getting ruined just for a grade that wasn’t even that bad. what you didn’t know is that you were the only girl, getting professor gojo so hard in lectures and tutorial classes just from the sight of you that to finally have you — it’s a sweet reward. you shiver when his hand reaches to your front to rub at your clit and you’re grasping at nothing as moans leave your lips.

“y-yeah, professor—” gojo is filthy, lewd, lifting your leg to prop up on the desk just so he could get deeper in you, your pussy everything he imagined and more as he continues to fuck into you. you’re warmer than his hand, than some hookup’s mouth from the club, clenching around his cock so tightly his hips stutter.

“f-fuck, angel, tryna snap my dick off?” you let out an incredulous chuckle at that, hips moving back to meet his while the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fill the room. your juices are coating his length so well, too, that gojo’s eyes lock on your cunt that sucks him in over and over again, the spread of your pussy lips just amplifying his moans. the other spreads your cheeks and sighs at the translucent ring of cum at the base of his cock, hips fucking up to hit your sweet spot that you’re cumming with a shock down your spine — so hard, so deep, so intense that you’re jolting from the orgasm with whimpers of his name. gojo never truly is done with you after pulling out to cum on your ass, however, and you aren’t either.

there’s a thrill that runs through his veins when you back him up onto the sofa, a glimmer in your eyes that suggest you’re as intoxicated on him as he is on you, a sultry gaze taking over your shyness from earlier before he’s pushed onto the cushions.

“thank you for the meal, professor,” you giggle and gojo swears he’s reached his death when your mouth first closes around his still sensitive tip and he whines loudly, hearing your fingers fill your drooling cunt as your hand squeezes out leftover cum from before. a hand runs through your hair and your cockdrunk face is enough for him to see white—

professor gojo thinks you look heavenly between his legs.

✶ GETO

you sigh echoes throughout your dorm room, ending the stream and collecting your keep for the day as you grimace at the mess you’ve made on your sheets. it’s not like it wasn’t pleasurable, but on some days you’re wondering how long you truly need to serve gross men on the internet for it to be enough to pay off your university fees. sure, there were a few attractive people who commented and tipped you, but that was the extent of it. it’s not long before you can only think about cleaning up and taking a big fat nap, but a video in the sidebar catches your attention.

it seemed like a casual stream — no script or planned storyline apart from a heavily tattooed arm taking up half the screen, his pelvis just slightly off the thumbnail. he was faceless, too, filming rather from the chest down which was also inked, something that sends a chill to your core.

it’s only later when you’re slipping your dildo back into you as you watch this stranger pump his cock, guttural groans and slick noises filling your airpods that you realise the dragon wrapping around his arm looks awfully familiar. you’re so blissed out by pleasure, focusing on the needy moans that the man lets out before he cums with a grunt, so much cum leaking out from him. you’ve reached your high too, but you have no time to admire the stranger because it seemed like he was in a hurry, but not before you’ve caught a glimpse of his lip ring.

you know why he looked so familiar, now, standing in front of him in his office while his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, something he doesn’t do often. geto suguru doesn’t wear his lip ring in lecturers either, and now you think you know why because they match the video you’ve seen just last night. you aren’t even entirely sure why you were called in, and you think maybe it’s because you “accidentally” sent a friend request, but you’re taken aback when he asks you if you’ve already selected a tutor to be your mentor throughout your major project.

“surprised? i sent out the email a week ago, love.” you try not to let the name get to you, and the confession lingers at the tip of your tongue.

“y-yeah! i saw it, professor geto, just—”

everyone was no stranger to professor geto’s striking looks, always turning heads with his unconventional gauges and long hair that probably should’ve landed him in a modelling agency in the first place. except, he’s opting instead to teach linguistics, a fitting major for him to talk of the history of language and its formation of it, even slipping in some latin and greek to show its origins but you can hardly listen when all you can focus on is the tight pull of his shirt around his body while his hair falls around his face and you think maybe it was a bad time to think if his hair falls out of his bun while he rails someone. you hope soon it’ll be you, just so you can confirm it for yourself with no other reason involved (you’re a fucking liar).

geto clears his throat and you swallow and the flex of his forearms only distract you further, the dragon on his arm seemingly laughing at your torment as it moves along his skin — the other doesn’t miss your dilemma, staring at you for your answer with a dark stare and enjoying the effect he had on you. your brain doesn’t respond fast enough, though, and you’re blurting out the first thing as you watch the curve of his mouth turn in either distaste or satisfaction; you weren’t sure.

“i saw you stream yesterday—” and you slap a hand over your mouth, wanting to run immediately, but you didn’t expect him to smile after a moment of recognition, making the connections to your account until his mouth falls open just a little.

“you’re the little cutie who sent me a request last night, aren’t ya?”

as he asks the question you hoped he wouldn’t ask, you find there’s nothing on your mind except maybe seeing his tattooed arms wrap around you — and you did. they looked so much better up close, leading from one thing to another in that stuffy office soon they’re looking especially good with how he’s currently dragging the tip of his cock along your folds, collecting your slick as you hold onto his biceps after confessing sin after sin about you from—

“i’ve jerked off to your videos.” a burn on your cheeks when geto sets you on his office table, palms leaving hot trails along your thighs and skin. he lets you play with his bulge, hands probably forming bruises on you from how you relieve the tension in his pants.

“the way your cunt wraps around that dildo — makes me wish i was there fuckin’ your pussy instead.” a gasp and a moan when he preps you with both fingers as he sucks hickeys into your neck and plays with your tits, pinching your nipple that has you clenching around him.

“didn’t miss how you like to be bred in your videos too. think maybe you need some real cum, princess,” geto’s button up shirt is pried open by now, trousers just barely pulled down below his hips because he has a lecture in about half n’ hour. though, he wanted your pussy all to himself and if 27 minutes was all he was granted, he was going to make full use of it. geto groans into your hair when your legs wrap around his middle and he’s reeling at how he’s been watching your videos for the longest time and yet, nothing compares to having you fall apart by his hands.

a quick glance to his watch tells him fifteen minutes, eyes flitting back to the squelch of your cunt around him and he smiles smugly at the whimpers he knows so well. he’s sure it’s imprinted on his brain by now but his dick still jumps at the many variations you’ve let out during the 27; he’d commit every single one to memory. “professor— s-shit!”

geto angles his hips up, the curve of his cock hitting that spot just right that your back arches and you let out a drawn out moan, “yes, baby?”

“w-wan’ your cum in me, suguru,” you’re pleading with a drunk little smile and your face is twisted into such pleasure he’s only seen through pixels that geto cums almost immediately with a pained laugh seeing the real thing, hips stilling as he fills you up, up, up to the brim with hot, white semen that geto feels embarrassed to climaxing so quickly. but what can he do? when his favourite camgirl and student asks to be bred, it’s only natural.

how could he possibly say no?

✶ NANAMI

“does that mean the poem is written from the cross’ perspective?” your hand shoots up in hopes of interpreting the text correctly, but also because, just maybe, that you wanted to impress a little someone at the front of the lecture theatre. beside you, you can hear the gasp of your friend along with the eyes of various other students. “sort of like— personification?”

nanami points to you with his glasses that he’s long removed, a small smile on his face. it’s not like you’re trying too hard, but of course you know your shit fairly well. you always have in every class, it was just a bonus you were so attractive that all nanami could think about was spreading your legs right on this desk. “yes, almost. anthropomorphism, something that was very common in poems or works written in old english.”

you were sceptical about professor nanami at first, especially since he was a lecturer who was transferred here from overseas only three months ago and is technically quarter of a white man, but he held command of the japanese language well enough for you to understand, both in speech and concepts. you were more interested in the lecturer himself though, piqued from the moment he explained his grandfather was danish and you turn to your friend, explains the blonde hair, doesn’t explain how he’s so insanely fine, giggling quietly to each other the first day.

as for your major, it was texts after story after poem, but you enjoyed it alongside giving your own input in class — something you knew would help your participation grades. you’ve raised your hand in more ways than one, always coming up at the end of lectures with a question, stopping him in hallways to show him the book you were currently reading. so that’s why you were confused when you were called to the front of the lecture theatre after everything’s over. it couldn’t be bad, right?

it wasn’t bad, it was much better, especially when nanami’s got your legs on either side of him on the lecture theatre desk while he takes his rightful place between your legs — somewhere he’s always longed to be. both the front and back doors are locked, with only your soft, muffled moans filling the room. but nanami has no shame, slurping up the juices that drip from your pussy loudly, possibly staining the desk below him. he’s cared before about the condensation of his drinks but when it comes to your sweet, sweet cunt? he doesn’t give one fuck.

“taste so good, sweetheart,” nanami moans wrapping a forearm around your thighs and just eats. he flicks his tongue over your clit, while the other hand goes up to squeeze at your tits, kneading and playing with them while you’re still at awe at the man on his knees, at how you’ve gotten one of the hottest professors in the university eating out of your pussy like it’s the last meal on earth.

you’re snapped out of your daze when nanami lands a few slaps onto your pussy, brown eyes boring holes into your skull. but this stare is different, as opposed to glaring down the mischievous boys who can’t stop making noise, this is…

“pay attention when i eat your little pussy, angel,” the demanding tone has you shivering, a small grin stifled when he nods in deserved approval and continues his assault. fingers slip in before you have time to react and your head is thrown back so hard it bumps against the wood but you don’t care, clamping down around his fingers. nanami’s pace is unforgiving, sucking hard on your clit while he pumps them in and out.

“feel good?” nanami asks through slurps as he catches your eye, licking one last stripe before gathering his saliva into a ball and he spits onto your clit, sight so lewd you clamp around his fingers. he admires how the way the glob of liquid runs down your cunt and mixes with your arousal that he can’t wait for it to be his cum instead.

“better than…” your voice trails off when he rubs in his spit, a thumb on your bud while he continues to move his fingers and your thighs are already trembling from how nanami knows all your sweet spots in such a short period of time. nanami simply chuckles at your sensitivity, meeting you halfway as you sit up to feel his lips against yours and he whispers against your lips—

“what were you gonna say, baby?”

you’re heaving for oxygen as he adds a third finger and you’re just hoping he’d show you his fucking dick already. hot breath fans across your lips and you smile to yourself seeing how your words affect him.

“better than fucking myself with my fingers thinkin’ it’s your cock, prof.”

✶ TOJI

it was nine in the morning, and toji could already feel a headache forming from the amount of absentees in his class, simply sighing before pulling up the details for today’s lecture, eyes unknowingly looking for you in the large lecture theatre. he finds that you’re already looking, clad in a cardigan and tired eyes — no doubt from trying to reach his deadline earlier than usual. toji found that you liked to do that, the first one to always submit your essays and assignments, so that’s why he knows what game you’re playing at when you’re asking the difference between first, second and third degree murder when you already know their definitions.

he would know — you got full marks the other time.

“hm?” toji only hums when he sees your enthusiastic face and a quick look down to your lower half shows how your legs spread naturally for him. the professor only licks his lips before he spots your underwear, entertaining you for now as you stare on earnestly, while nothing is actually entering your brain. that’s okay, though, you’re smart.

toji can count on one hand the amount of times you manage to catch him off guard, but he didn’t expect both of those times to be on the same day. it was a busy night at the club, trailing behind professor gojo, bored, until the clock hits 11 and the shift changes, some dancers retiring for the night whilst others make their way out. they emerge with pumps and skimpy outfits, but toji still hasn’t found someone worth wasting his loaded bank account on until you’re stepping out in a corset and garters and toji whistles lowly, eyes travelling up your person unforgivingly before he hears a small gasp.

his curiosity is piqued at the small noise, only to be greeted with your widened eyes and taut muscles at having seen your professor at the strip club you work at, but with a clap from somewhere backstage your body moves naturally into a professional stance, and perhaps a little more sluttily than other days.

your professor was hot, of course you would work twice as hard, twisting your body around the pole while you show off your assets — things you were covering just this morning in professor toji’s lecture. he taught criminology, a minor that you were trying out in your second year of uni and if it didn’t work, you’d drop it, but no matter how much you complained about the class, the green eyes that bore into yours in lectures always seem to ask you to stay. you never really knew whether he was looking at you or not.

at least now, you’ll make him.

toji’s hands tightened around the wad of cash he planned to waste tonight, all put on hold just from watching the way you put your body on display. he wouldn’t have imagined seeing you tonight at the strip club he let gojo drag him to, but he’s almost glad he’s here when you seem to be only dancing for him, all focus on the other patrons lost.

your eyes are still locked with toji’s, reminding you of the times in the lecture theatre where green was all you could see, a smile creeping on your face when one of your girlfriends behind you whispers that the man with the black hair and tight shirt wants a private session with you.

that’s all it took before you feel toji’s hands on your ass later in the private room, pulling you to his front with a smirk. “what’s a sweet girl like you doin’ here?”

you roll your eyes as you feign annoyance. your heart was pounding along with the music, finally being able to feel his toned body from the front., “cut the crap, prof. you booked me for a reason. what, here to talk about my grades or something?”

“what? can’t see my favourite student?” you scoff with a small smile.

“and how did you know i work here?”

“i didn’t, but seeing you work that pole,” toji grins, landing a smack on your butt before grinding his very obvious, large bulge on you and he’s loving the way it seemed to stimulate your clit, “i need ya to show me what i’ve been missing, mama.”

toji groans later while you’ve got his cock in his mouth, on your knees in front of him while you’re fisting the places you can’t reach. you take most of him easily, feeling the tip of his length reach the back of your throat. there, your eyes flick up to him, doe eyed and pleading. it isn’t long before you feel his hips bucking into your mouth and the cute twitch of his cock in your mouth, moaning around him as you knead his thighs, dragging him closer with what little strength you had.

“dirty fuckin’ slut, huh?” toji mumbles out breathlessly, tightening his grip around your hair before you start bobbing your head again, a plethora of lewd noises alongside the slurp of your saliva and his pre-cum mixing only makes your panties wetter and sends your cunt clenching around nothing. “who knew my cutest student was such a whore?” your head reels at the degradation, sucking in your cheeks even more while you slobber over him. toji swears under his breath when your tongue sweeps over his tip, collecting his pre-cum.

“it’s s’big in my mouth, professor,” giggling, you bob your head faster as the other’s noises increase in volume, and he’s left to tap the side of your skull, causing you to tilt your head in question. the vibrations of your moans has him grinding into your mouth, shutting you up until he’s cumming down your throat with a loud groan. toji spills so much into your mouth that you have to swallow twice, pulling on your jaw as you show him the remnants of the cum still on your tongue.

“’m sure they have it somewhere in the conduct about professors not having sexual relations with a student,” toji chuckles when he sees you peel off your underwear, eagerly wrapping his arms around your waist. “or even something about cutting corners to get your grades up…” it’s a little soft, trailing off when he feels you drag his tip along your pussy and he’s mesmerised with how your dripping folds accommodate him easily.

you pout in dramatics, thighs tightening around his when you take inch after inch of him before you’re bottoming out. there’s a deep sigh coming from you before you’re moving your hips lazily, a certain slur to your words that already show you’re drunk on your professor’s cock and toji only smiles.

“yeah, but my grades are perfectly fine,” you whisper with a small whine when toji squeezes your ass, something he never thought he’d get a taste of.

“plus, we’re not in the classroom now, are we, professor?”

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osaemu · 5 months

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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ IS IT OVER NOW? (IT ISN'T) ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: all good things come to an end, including your relationship—but don't worry, broken hearts can be mended, but only if you're both willing to try.

contents: fem!reader. you two break up and make up! you guys fight/break up over something that coulda been resolved with better communication. kinda suggestive ending, maybe i'll drop a part two if this does alright. satoru announces your break-up on his stream. longest fic i've posted so far, 4k words (kms).

author's note: the long awaited angst has finally arrived.. big thank you to @screampied for beta-reading!! tagging @yunymphs who read it early and @sutorus + @kentopedia who i both miss very much!!

ever since you first joined satoru on his stream, it’s gotten way more popular than either of you could’ve ever expected. before he brought you onto his live, he was averaging about eight thousand views per stream. now, his average was well over fifteen thousand—and that wasn't even including the publicity he got from other websites. when satoru accidentally left the camera on while you two made out, you two went viral on twitter. and when another user tried to swipe him away, the clip got over a hundred thousand views on youtube.

at first, satoru didn't mind the change his stream was going through—in fact, he welcomed it. but lately, things have been… different.

last week, while satoru was playing in some competition, he won first out of hundreds of equally proficient players. had it been anyone else, their comments would've been filled with congratulations and good job's, but in his case, all satoru got were messages asking where you were. that wasn’t the first time—ever since that very first day, when you showed up on his stream, satoru’s audience has entirely shifted. and honestly, if you were in his position, you'd be a bit annoyed. anyone would be.

but you had never expected that it would be so big of a deal that you and satoru—the "cutest couple on the internet"—would break up over it.

you walk along the chilly, suburban sidewalk up to your boyfriend’s house. satoru had just sent you a message asking if you could come over, and like always, you answered with an immediate yes. a flock of crows fly by, raven feathers providing a stark contrast between them and the pale gray sky around you. it’s gray and gloomy, but not unpleasant.

a sweet, romantic song plays in your ears as you knock three times on satoru’s front door. his familiar voice calls out “coming!”, and you can hear his footsteps grow louder and louder until he swings open the door. satoru smiles down at you, cheeks already rosy from the cold winter air. “hey.”

you tilt your head and smile back at him. “that’s all i get? hey?” you huff, walking into his living room behind him as the door closes behind you. “d’you have any hot chocolate? i’m freezing,” you say, licking your lips. satoru turns and pauses, an unreadable expression on his face. “satoru?”

after a moment, your boyfriend snaps out of it. “oh, yeah, sorry,” he says ruefully. satoru rubs his eyes with one hand and uses the other to open the door to his bedroom, and as you follow him in, you’re hit with a blast of warm air. “i’m just kinda tired, but yeah, i have some hot cocoa in here. c’mon.”

“anything i can do for you?” you offer, sitting down on the corner of his bed. you’ve been to his house so many times that it feels like home—maybe even more so than your own place. everything about satoru’s room is comfortable, from his plush chairs to the faux-fur blankets draped over every single piece of his furniture. you could probably fall over at any given point and it wouldn’t actually hurt—you’d just land on something soft and/or fluffy.

but that wasn’t all that made you so in love with his home. it was just the way it felt—words couldn’t describe the way everything was just so right and just so perfect, and you really did hope that you’d never have to see a time where you wouldn’t be able to spend time with your boyfriend here.

it really is a shame that all good things had to come to an end. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as satoru finally told you why he called you over. unlike nearly every other time, it wasn’t because he missed you or wanted to cuddle—it was quite the opposite, really.

“i don’t think this is working.”

six words that shattered the life you had come to know and love.

“is this a joke?” you try, an unnerved smile spreading across your lips against your will. he doesn’t reply instantly, which is so out-of-character for him that it makes you stiffen up. “satoru, this isn’t funny—”

“i’m not kidding,” satoru murmurs, looking away. he refuses to meet your eyes, and some part of you is still desperately trying to find reason in the chaos that’s slowly taking over your mind. how could it be that everything was just fine two minutes ago and now it’s anything but that? did something happen? did you say the wrong thing? did you—

“it’s not funny,” you insist, still somehow clinging onto your slowly-dwindling hope. maybe you’re in denial, but still, you were sure that everything was fine—no, that everything is fine. there was no past-tense, right? how could the glass home you’d built with your bare hands just crash down at the throw of a pebble?

satoru finally meets your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s no amused glimmer in his eyes, no “just kidding” in sight, and even worse, you can’t even see an ounce of the love or adoration you’d come to grow so attached to in just a couple months.

“what happened?” you whisper, miraculously managing to keep yourself together. you’d never forgive yourself if you just started crying over a breakup you weren’t even sure was happening—what little’s left of your pride is holding on. you allow yourself to wrap your arms around your chest, curling into your own embrace.

satoru doesn’t reply for a long second. right when you’re sure he just won’t reply, he does, and it all comes spilling out in a messy stream of words. “it’s just… i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep going online and seeing everyone on my stream talking about you. i love you, i really do, but it’s just—” satoru shakes his head frustratedly. “i don’t know how to say it, but you know what i mean, right?”

your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. “you’re breaking up with me because you’re tired of seeing me?”

“no, fuck,” satoru groans, running a hand through his hair. his previously cool and collected demeanor starts to fall apart as he takes a step back. “i don’t know how to explain it, but— shit, you wouldn’t understand.”

you swallow and start to stand up, still willing to try. “then help me understand, satoru, i—”

“you’ve seen the comments, and you’ve seen all the posts on twitter,” satoru says, tilting his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not your fault, but i really just can’t stand everyone disregarding me and turning my own stream into a youtube channel starring you.”

his words sting like alcohol in an open wound, and you fight the battle of your life to prevent the thousands of tears hiding behind your eyes from being visible. even so, your voice wobbles ever so slightly as you say “that’s a bullshit reason to break up, satoru—”

your boyfriend—is he even still your boyfriend?—scoffs and shakes his head, stumbling back and falling into his chair. "for you, it isn't. you wouldn’t understand. for me, it's like everyone's just... invalidating the three years i've spent on this shit. and i can't do it anymore, i just can't."

you blink slowly, backing away towards his bedroom door. "what does that mean?"

satoru exhales a bitter laugh and turns away, the back of his chair facing you. you think you can hear him take a soft, shaky breath as the room falls silent. neither of you make a sound before satoru turns back toward you, a blank look on his face.

he looks up at you, azure eyes devoid of the sparkle you've become so familiar with. satoru smiles sadly, but to your dismay, there's no real emotion behind it. it's almost like he's already accepted it when he says, "it means we—" he pauses and looks away. "this is over."

you reach out toward him, desperate to hold on to him—to the invisible string that ties you and satoru together, but he's just out of your grasp. "satoru, it isn't even that big of a deal, why are you—"

satoru turns and fixes you with a stern glare, and just like that, the string that kept you and satoru together for months, maybe years snaps, and you're left with a limp strand of what it once was. taking the hint, you walk out of his room in a daze, hardly noticing the way he says "i'm sorry".

and the worst part? he said he still loved you. but apparently that wasn’t enough.

satoru has every right to be annoyed that his stream is only growing because of you—his stream was the way he made money, and after all, it was never meant to be about you.

and maybe he was never meant to be for you either.

the walk home is cold and lonely. you slip a hand into your pocket—the pocket of satoru's hoodie, which you should probably return to him—and extract your earphones. it probably isn't a good idea to wear both outside as you walk home, but you do it anyway—this day can't possibly get any worse.

a soft voice murmurs words of sorrow and encouragement in your ear as the music takes you to another world. maybe this—the breakup—was meant to happen. maybe it was a mistake to date a boy with thousands of fans.

as soon as you get home, your phone dings softly. you pick it up and frown when you see it's from toru. you'd have to change that name later.

toru: idk if u blocked me already but i still have a lot of ur things, do u wanna come pick them up later?

toru: or i can drop them off tmrw ig

you miss the way he used to text you—with an obnoxious amount of exclamation points and an even worse amount of emojis. now, it's like all of the flavor's gone from his words, and it hurts. that's when it actually settles in, that this is really over. it hurts like an icicle being driven straight through your heart, and it stings like one, too.

satoru's texts are left on delivered for five whole minutes before you reply, and it's only with an "i'll come by tmrw". he likes the message less than a minute later, and you're left to wallow in your misery alone until you finally drift off to sleep.

the next morning, you open your phone to a notification alerting you that satoru’ll be live on stream in ten minutes. curiosity kills the cat, but in this case, maybe it’d be worth it to see what he tells his viewers about your breakup. after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell them—he always had something to say about you, and he’d probably rather tell them for sure rather than let them come up with ridiculous theories on their own.

so you hastily make a new account using some email account you haven’t touched since middle school, trying a couple different passwords until you remember the one that works. the website hits you with a hundred questions, asking you about your favorite games and who’d you like to subscribe to first. you choose satoru, albeit after a second of hesitation. two minutes later, sparklingzebra672 joins your ex-boyfriend’s stream. you wait a second, holding your breath as the live loads. a brief moment later, satoru’s painfully familiar face appears on your screen.

“hey guys,” satoru says, forcing a smile on his face. even from behind a screen, you swear you can feel his eyes on you. “how’s everyone today?”

the already unstable smile on satoru’s face falls when he opens the comments and gets greeted with a flurry of where’s your girlfriend’s. had you been anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way satoru’s eyes dulled ever so slightly or the way he curled into himself, but being the girl who once knew him best, you could tell.

“oh, she won’t be back on here for… a while,” satoru starts, dancing around the topic. he leans back against his chair and tilts his chin up, azure eyes focused on the ceiling. “we broke up.”

nothing could’ve prepared you for the way satoru’s comments explode. it’s almost like you can hear the shocked gasps coming from all fourteen—no, twenty thousand viewers as the words nobody thought would ever they’d hear from satoru are spoken.

suguru-geto: holy shit im so sorry

toji-fushiguro: wait wtf r u kidding?? that's fuckin crazy

yuuji-itadori: omg i thought u guys were together forever :(

inumaki: chat is this real??

satoru shrugs, averting his eyes from the hundreds of comments pouring in, but you scroll through and read them all. everyone, even satoru’s haters, seems genuinely shocked. in fact, had this not been your own breakup, you would’ve been one of them, begging and pleading satoru for more details.

“yeah, we did,” satoru murmurs, eyebrows furrowing just enough for you to read his expression. now that you’re looking closer, you can see the subtle redness underneath his eyes—had he been crying too? and maybe you’re imagining it, but his hair seems a bit dishelved too. your ex-boyfriend shrugs, forcing his face back into his usual lighthearted expression, but it’s not fooling anyone.

satoru scowls at the new flood of comments asking him why you two broke up. some people are already hypothesizing—maybe it’s because you got jealous of his fame, or maybe he got sick of you. maybe you left him to go date some other streamer, or maybe—

“i’m actually gonna end the stream here, ‘cause i don’t really want to deal with all of this right now,” satoru says with a frown. his eyes are narrowed irritably as a couple users protest, still begging for more details. “you guys know that i’m a real person with my own life, right? fuck off.”

and just like that, the stream ends. you’re left with a blank screen and a message saying that satoru’s ended the live, so you shut your laptop. your stomach turns as you groan, just remembering that you have to go over to his place later to retrieve your things, and somehow, you’d have to pretend that you didn’t just stalk his stream to see if he’d say anything substantial about the breakup.

a couple minutes after the stream ends, your phone blows up—every mutual friend you and satoru have is messaging you about what he said, but you can’t bring yourself to open any of them. except for one.

suguru: r u ok?

you: yeah ig

suguru: do u want anything?

satoru’s best friend’s question catches you off-guard—there are a lot of things you want. you want this whole situation to go away. you want the world to disappear. and most of all, you want satoru back, without the online world attached.

but suguru can’t do any of those things, can he? so you leave him on read.

somehow, you fall back asleep, tossing and turning in your bed without satoru’s steady arms to accompany you. a couple hours later, you wake up again, wincing from the dim sunlight that pours through your windows and directly into your eyes. it’s just past five, so you figure that you might as well go down to satoru’s house and get your things. better to do it now than drag it out for an uncertain amount of time.

the walk is shorter than you remember, but maybe it’s just the absence of music pouring into your ears that makes it seem that way. you watch the wilted autumn leaves flutter in the wind, falling down onto the sidewalk like pieces into place. once upon a time, you had walked these very streets with satoru—it’s a fond memory you remember only all too well.

when you finally step onto your ex’s doorstep, the door opens before you even have a chance to knock. and there he is—the boy who’d once been the love of your life. satoru looks down at you with an unreadable expression. “hey.”

you think you’ve seem this film before, and you didn’t like the ending.

satoru spares you from having to reply by opening the door wider and beckoning you inside. “i already put most of your stuff into a couple boxes, but i thought you’d wanna check on your own. just in case i forgot something.”

you nod and walk past him, not trusting your voice to be steady. this was harder than you expected—much harder. in fact, you’re practically on the verge of breaking down when you step into satoru’s room and look around and see just how different it looks without the touches of you everywhere.

the fortnite poster you’d given him as a joke for the second anniversary of his stream was gone from his wall, and so were the two mini succulents that used to sit on the corner of his desk. the white cat plushie that used to rest on his pillow was gone, too—probably stuffed somewhere in one of the boxes outside his bedroom door.

after nearly a minute of looking around, you decide that whatever satoru possibly could’ve missed wasn’t important enough for you to have to stick around any longer.

you turn and start to exit satoru’s room so fast that you nearly crash into him when he suddenly appears in the doorway. “shit, sorry about that,” you mumble, trying to walk around him. but of course, because the universe is actually praying on your downfall, you and satoru both walk the same way at the same time. you awkwardly try to go around each other, and eventually, the humiliation is over.

“so, you got everything?” satoru asks, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets. you nod, bending over to pick up one of the two boxes. it’s pretty heavy, but not unmanangable. you just don’t really seem to know if you’ll be able to carry both back home at once.

“oh, uh, i’ll be right back,” you say tentatively. a flash of confusion appears in satoru’s eyes, so you clarify, “i’m gonna go grab my car. that’ll make it easier.”

satoru’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “no, it’s alright. your place isn’t far from here at all, i’ll just take the other and walk back with you.”

“no, really, it’s alright.”

“it’s the easiest option, ba—” satoru cuts himself off, stopping himself from calling you baby for the first time since you two had started dating. “sorry.”

“let’s just go.”

the walk back to your house is brutal. you walk side by side with satoru since the path is wide enough for you to do so, and you two just keep bumping into each other. had you still been dating, satoru probably would’ve dropped the box and scooped you up instead, kissing your cold face to warm it up. of course, that would’ve added five minutes to your walk, but it would’ve been better than the tense silence dividing you and satoru right now.

the wind whistles around you, brushing at your skin and making you shiver with every gust—there’s nothing more you’d like than to go home, plop on your couch and cry while watching the titanic for the hundredth time.

after what seems like three hundred awkward hours later, you and satoru finally make it to your house. “thanks,” you say quietly, setting down your box in front of the door.

satoru places his next to yours and slips his hands back into his pockets. he nods and replies, “no problem,” but still doesn’t leave.

you cross your arms, and tilt your head, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “umm, do you need anything else?”

satoru coughs tensely and shrugs. “oh, uh, not really, just—” his eyes drift down to your top, and your face grows warm when you realize you’re still wearing his hoodie.

“shit, my bad,” you mumble, internally cringing and resisting the urge to say every curse word you know. could this day really get any worse?

well, at least satoru looks equally as embarrassed. he shakes his head and gestures for you to keep it on. “it’s fine, it’s kinda cold anyways. keep it.” satoru hesitates, shuffling his feet before continuing, “if you want something… to remember me by.”

what you say next was done entirely against your will. “do you still love me?” you ask suddenly, not sure what otherworldly force prompted you to do so. you instantly regret it when satoru’s face goes even redder, and you can tell it’s not from the cold the way his blush spreads to his ears.

“i— uh, i mean—”

“answer me, satoru, i think i have a right to know.”

he looks away and mumbles something about needing to go back home, to feed his fish or something (he doesn’t have a fish), and you grab his hand just as he starts to turn away. “please, satoru, i need to know,” you breathe, squeezing his hand harder when he flinches.

ten silent seconds tick by, but you still don’t let go. so satoru sighs, a soft white puff of air coming from his lips. “yeah.”

your heart breaks again.

“then why did you—”

“because i don’t know how to do this,” satoru says, blue eyes darting all over the place. “i love you, i really do, but i just can’t— i don’t like having thousands of people thinking that i’m only worth looking at if i’m with you, it’s annoying and it pisses me off and i don’t want to accidentally take it out on yo—”

you cut him off with a kiss, ignoring the way he yelps a little in surprise. but thankfully, he doesn’t push you away—instead, his arms instantly wrap around you and pull you closer into his warm, warm chest. satoru’s lips are a little dry, but still minty as ever from the peppermints he’s constantly munching on. he kisses you back like a man starved of affection, and when you two finally break apart, his eyes are just as hungry.

“you idiot,” you whisper, trailing your fingers through his hair as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “you shoulda just talked to me about it first.”

“i know,” satoru mumbles, looking down bashfully. “‘m sorry.”

“you should be.” you pause, watching satoru’s lips curve into a pouty frown. “i’m sorry too,” you murmur, and he looks up, confused. “i should’ve seen this coming.”

satoru shakes his head and presses his lips to your forehead, lingering for a couple seconds before pulling back. “i missed you.”

“i was gone for less than a day, satoru.”

“oh, so you didn’t miss me?”

“i did,” you admit, exhaling a puff of air when satoru smiles smugly. “shut up, it’s not a competition!”

“yeah it is, but fine, you win,” satoru gives in with a dramatic sigh, reaching down and twining his fingers with yours. his hands, which are significantly bigger than yours, instantly warm you up. “but only ‘cause i don’t want you to break up with me next.”

“i hate you, y’know that?” you grumble, leaning into his side and letting satoru kiss the top of your head. he hums in agreement, reaching out and opening your front door.

“i’m sure you do, baby. now c’mon, let’s get inside n’ warm up. i wanna make it up to you,” satoru says with a grin, bending over and scooping up both boxes.

“oh, yeah? how do you plan to do that?” you challenge, going inside first and holding the door open for satoru. once he’s inside, you close the door and instantly get pinned against it by satoru, whose hands are already creeping underneath your clothes. “satoru, your hands are col—”

he cuts you off by pressing his equally cold lips to yours, smiling against your mouth as he tugs at your clothes. “i know, baby. but i’ll keep you nice n’ warm for the rest of the night, i promise!”

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kissitbttr · 6 months

Text

a very tired miguel who gets home from work and gets babied by his woman

It's close to 9pm as you're lying on your bed. keeping your focus on the book you're reading, one that you failed to keep as a part of your routine due to your busy schedule with work. being a fashion designer has it's perks but it also has its dark sides too. especially when it comes to dealing with snobby ass clients

as you are about to flip to another page, you hear the front door opened. keys rattling against the ceramic bowl with a loud sigh follows after. a soft smile appears on your face soon as you realize who it is

“miguel? Is that you?” you softly call out your husband’s name while putting the book down.

"si, mi amor" he appears shortly by the doorway. your tall and handsome fiancee adorned in an unbuttoned white shirt that showcase a bit of his chest and paired with black trousers. a simple work attire but never fail to make your knees wobble. the sight could put any Greek Gods known to a man to shame.

your heart breaks a little seeing how tired he looks. his eye-bags are coming off too strong. a constant reminder on how he has been working himself far too hard despite you telling him to take it easy. but that's just how he is, stubborn.

"how's work my love?" you ask, watching him undress himself, revealing his exposed toned chest before putting the clothes away with the rest of his dirty ones in the bathroom. "I take it, it wasn't a good day?"

"you could say that" he replies tiredly, grabbing a pair of sweatpants off the chair and slipping it on. "trying to get ahold with the new recruits is a fucking job, Peter's been getting on my nerves and I'm working on advancing the technology we have right now in order for it to be easier to identify every single anomaly's DNA we've come across to. But the amount of hypotheses and research I've done are nowhere near close to how I want them to be."

"i would ask Tony Stark for help but que cabron esta muerto" he breathes out a sigh, pinching the thick skin between his brows. "I'm drained, mi amor... i can't fucking do this shit everytime--"

"no hey.. stop" you shake your head, hate having to see your man fronting a distressed look in his face. “come here, Miggy” you pout at him patting your chest for him to lay his head,

he sighs heavily. plopping into the bed and carefully lays himself on top of you. pounding head finding comfort in the warmth of your chest, snaking his big arms around your waist.

you put your arms around him, locking him tightly as your soft lips kiss his forehead making him purr.

“my pretty baby. exhausted aren't you? hm?” you ask in a cooing tone. he hums -- which sounded like a growl to you-- with a nod before nuzzling himself closer. “oh my poor poor baby... my handsome man. always working himself to the bone” another kiss on the forehead

“come up a little closer, hm?” you ask as he barely shifts his body. too lazy and far too comfortable in your arms like this for him to move.

you run your fingers through his soft hair, moving a piece that’s covering his forehead. looking down to see him close his eyes, yet not sleeping.

it’s so funny to see how this freakishly large- broad man who always seems to bring a cold presence that scares everyone off at work—which is technically true— then turns into a huge softie and a love puddle for you in a split seconds.

it’s truly a privilege that you’re the only one who gets to see and feel this

“look how cute you are, baby… do you know how cute you are, hm?” you coo at him, lips kissing his nose and the sharpness of his cheekbone. trying your best to console him in hopes of washing his stress away.

he lightly shakes his head. “no” a curt reply rolls of his mouth, drawing your body closer to him if that's even possible.

you pretend to gasp dramatically at his answer. fingers still stroking his hair lightly. “you don’t?! oh no! we have to fix that! you’re the cutest *kiss* most handsome *kiss* hardworking *kiss* man I’ve ever known” showering him with compliments in between kisses. he breathes out a small chuckle that muffles against your chest.

it’s obvious that miguel rarely gets treatments like this, he’s no one to shy from things but you're his only exception. the only person who truly can get him blush like a little kid when he's shown the slightest bit of affection.

“who’s baby are you hm? are you my baby?” a smile graces your lips as your eyes casting down to his pretty features.

“me. I’m your baby” he mumbles, tightening his grip around you. "always be your baby"

inspired by @webslingingslasher their frat!peter work yall is making me [REDACTED] please go take a look!!

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara blurbs #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff

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luveline · 6 months

Note

gorgeous can we get bombshell reader and Spencer May be the first time he’s snappy with her bc he’s stressed and she’s just so taken aback and May be even tears up? And then just a fluffy ending with Spencer apologizing

thank you for requesting! fem, 2.2k

Spencer Reid is extra kissable when he's frowning. Button up and no suit jacket, sleeves pushed past his elbows and hair on the shorter side, he holds a certain confidence in his hands where they're tucked in his pockets. Sure of himself, and clearly agitated.

You're always on his side; you don't think twice about easing into the conference room to see what's wrong.

"Hey," you say with a slight lilt to your tone. You're always on his side, and always flirting. "What's wrong?"

"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asks.

Not mean. Not light. Somewhere in the solid middle, his gaze loyal to the laptop on the desk he stands behind. You step close enough to smell the subtle scent of his cologne, wondering if he can smell your perfume in turn, and if it's one he likes. You try to touch his hand and he takes the desk into his grip instead, leaning forward, out of reach.

"That's not what I meant to convey," you say, still flirting. You're not stupid, you realise his mood, but you're hoping it's somebody else's fault. "But if you aren't happy to see me then I'd definitely suggest there was something wrong."

"I'm just trying to figure something out."

This close, to your own credit, Spencer usually trips up. He's been getting better as you've grown closer, your 'torturing' —as the team likes to call it— only prompting the occasional blush or stammer. You don't flirt with Spencer to torture him no matter what anyones says and you never have, you flirt with him because he deserves to be complimented. He's andsome, intelligent, and courageous. What others might miss you see in blaring neon lights: he's a catch. You intend on making your intentions known, and if that means playing the long game or the slow burn, that's okay. You like to dance.

You put yourself between him and the laptop screen. He can still see it if he cranes his neck, and he does. "You look a little tired, handsome. Looking at a screen all day will hurt you in the end. Neck aches, shoulder cramps, eye strain. Though I can't help with the latter, the former…" His arm is solid under your hand, your fingertips running along the ridge of a stark vein.

He doesn't quite flinch away, but he moves quickly enough to startle you, lamenting, "Could you give me some space, please?"

That's all well and good, you rush to do as he's asked and step back because the very last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable and his voice is frankly acidic, but everything is moving too quickly, you're not as aware as you should be —you smash your hand backwards into a cold cup of coffee and knock it straight into the lap of Spencer's laptop.

"No," you gasp, grabbing the cup before the entirety of it can empty. Coffee wells between the keys and you go to grab it to– well, to do something.

"Stop it!" Spencer shouts, voice sharp as a knife. "You always do this," —quieter, venomous— "you can't help yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I would answer you if I had the time. I'll be busy rescuing my hard drive before an entire month of work is wasted thanks to your dire need for attention."

He slips around you and stalks out the door, coffee dripping from the corner of his laptop in a sorry trail that shines in the fluorescent lights.

Your first rush of tears are driven by indignation; it was an accident, you didn't mean to do that, why would you ever do that? But the second, more encompassing rush is a hot mixture of shame and guilt. What have you done?

You take a hesitant step toward the door but don't bother following him. I'll make things worse, you think, bringing a hand to your face. Makeup marrs your hand as you wipe your cheeks. You stare down at the stains for a long, long time.

I'll apologise, you think eventually, rubbing at the mascara like soot on your palm. Just as soon as I look okay again.

You don't want Spencer or anyone to see you upset. You wear your makeup and your confidence for yourself, not to hide any insecurity but to embolden yourself, to be yourself. But to get to your desk you'd have to leave the conference room bared as you are, and you'd have to face Spencer, and the second option brings more tears.

This is all so messy, and it's your fault.

I'm such an idiot. I'm exactly what he thinks of me.

You sit in the chair furthest from the door with a pack of tissues from the cubby and rub your hot cheeks dry, streaks of mascara in the shapes of your fingertips like soot left behind. It's sitting that gets you —the shock of tears at being shouted at by someone you care about amplifies into a distress you can't explain. It's stupid, it's stupid. You press your face into your hands and curl in on yourself at the table, ears ringing. I'm so, so stupid.

—

The inside of Spencer's lip is bleeding, metallic on his tongue. He's white hot annoyance all the way to Penelope's office, choked as he tells her he needs her help.

"Spencer?" she said. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He realises what he's done. "Please, Garcia, can you do something? I really need to go."

He doesn't hear her response beyond her surprised but emphatic Sure, spinning on his heel to walk back the way he came. He rubs at his temple, moving between a slow trudge and a speed walk as he assesses the damage of what he's said. What did he say? your dire need for attention.

Your sniffing is something out of his fucking nightmares. Who does he think he is? You're sitting exactly where he left you next to that half empty coffee cup, a tissue scrunched in your trembling hands, visible in the small glass window of the door. You must be thinking of what he's said to have missed the sound of his footsteps, or perhaps he's left you too upset to want to look up.

He sees the moment a sob works through you, watches you hold your breath in a painful effort to keep it down, raising the tissue to your eyes and catching your tears before they fall. You're doing a lacklustre job despite your efforts, the oily shine of mascara iridescent on your cheeks. Or maybe that's tear tracks. It's hard to tell.

Spencer fights with himself. He doesn't know if deserves to come running back or if it would be more fair to send JJ or Derek in to comfort you.

"You made your bed," his mom would say, not without affection. "You have to lie in it."

Spencer squeezes his eyes closed to push away the memory, surveying the damage he's done carefully as he crosses the threshold back into the conference room. Your head lifts at the sound of the door, your stammer visible before you speak, "Spence– Spencer. Is your laptop okay? Did I break it? I'm so sorry."

Gideon would tell Spencer to be nicer. Hotch would say Reid in that stern shade of voice that's half disapproval and half fondness. They'd both tell him to be better, but neither of them have ever had to see you as you look now, tearstained and sorry, eyes wide with worry but shoulders tense. He has his role models, and yet none of them could possibly give him a way to apologise that could ever make up for they way he's made you feel.

Little dramatic, Morgan would say. Start with a hug, loverboy. Can't go wrong with a hug.

He should ask but he doesn't, a second transgression against you. Spencer pushes past chair and the sodden circle of carpet to your chair, pausing in case you're going to tell him to shove it. You lick your lips. "Did I break it?" you ask, as though resigned for a yes

He can't temper that amount of self-hatred on you. It doesn't suit you. He much prefers you the way you like to be, confident in everything, flirty and funny and soft, in both touch and touches. He takes your face into a careful hand, tilting it toward the light and weary of your shallow exhale. "I…" He begins and ends, stroking your tacky cheek with his index finger, as though brushing away an eyelash. If it were real he'd say make a wish, and you would wish for him or some similar sweetness, salacious smile to boot, or earnestness fit to fill a mountain. I wish you'd realise how pretty you are and stop denying me the pleasure of a beautiful boyfriend, you'd croon.

His fingers collect at your jaw and slip behind your ear as he cleans your skin with the side of his thumb. You lean into the touch, slashing his hesitancy in two.

"Sorry," he says, pulling your head toward his neck gently as he leans down to hold you. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please. Don't be upset "

"I'm an idiot–"

"No," he says, with the facts to back his denial. "I'm an idiot, I should never have upset you like this–"

"I broke your computer, it's just like you said–"

"I shouldn't have–"

"–I'm so needy I could've ruined all your hard work," you say, wriggling with guilt like you attempt to pull away.

Spencer really doesn't want to let you go now he has you, not until he's sure you'll stay in one piece. "If it's ruined, it's my fault for failing to back it up."

He should tell you that he's sorry for what he said. He knew it wasn't right he moment it escaped him, to speak to you like that, and accuse you of what he did. He basically called you selfish, uncaring. He implied it and worse, and for what? An accident? A mis-step that he practically forced you into?

"I never should've said that to you," he says, breaking his hug to crouch in front front you, searching blindly for your hand as he holds eye contact, looking up. You deign to frown down. "And I walked away. And you're crying," —his voice fries with sympathy— "because of me."

Your hand is limp in his. "I'm sorry," he says.

"It's okay." You sniffle and nod, lips struggling into a smile.

"It's not okay."

"Well, I hit your coffee over, so we're even."

"You accidentally spilled my drink, you didn't deserve to be mocked."

"Spence…" Your eyes half-lidded, you wince down at the cradle of his hand where it holds yours. "Did I break it?"

"I don't know. I got to Garcia's office and I knew I did the wrong thing, so I came back."

You swallow audibly. "I just wanted to make you feel better."

"I know, angel." He stands again as your eyes well with tears to hug you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry. That was all me, okay? I shouldn't have snapped at you."

What follows is agony. Spencer patting your back through a panicked bubble of tears, wretched in knowing he caused it, and worse is the look you give him as he wipes your messed up make up away in want of a mirror, like you're grateful.

"Does it look really bad?"

"N–no. You look really pretty," he says.

"Are my eyes puffy?"

A little. "No. You look great." He can't apologise anymore– it won't help you feel better now, it'll just assuage his own worry. What you need is a different reassurance. "It's hard not looking at you, sometimes, you look that nice. But you know that already."

"I don't mean to do that. I didn't mean to."

Spencer puts his hand above your heart. "I know you didn't. I really, really shouldn't have said it. I was being cranky and I struck out like a kid."

"...You're not just saying I look nice to get back in the good books, are you?" you ask.

Spencer leans in, nearly nose to nose with you. "Of course not."

You tilt your head as though you might kiss him. He knows you won't and he's delighted anyways. It means you're feeling okay. He's nearly forgiven, or, at the very least, you're not actively upset. "I thought I liked seeing you pissed off, but now I'm not so sure."

"It's not a good look on me," he murmurs. "But it looks great on you, if you want to get angry with me."

"Well now I can't. I know it's what you want."

"Can I give you a hug?" he asks.

You drop all your acts and slide your arms around his neck. He wraps you up slowly, one arm at a time, careful to put all the pressure exactly where you like it.

"That feels nice," you mumble.

He bends into you and rubs your back. "Yeah?"

"Don't," you warn.

He draws a shape into your back with his fingers, slow, tiny things that make you squirm. "Don't what?"

"You're tickling me." You don't sound unhappy about it.

"What?" he asks. "I can't hear you over the sound of me being a huge jackass. Sorry, angel."

Your giggle is honey into his shoulder, sticky and sluggish as his circles turn to stars.

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

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waitimcomingtoo · 6 months

Text

Two Normal Arms

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Synopsis: when Peter breaks his arm, he notices he gets a lot of attention from you. So much attention that he prolongs the broken arm as long as he can

Masterlist

Peter had a strict no texting while swinging rule.

That rule was broken one night on patrol during a particularly heated back and forth text conversation with Ned over whether chili was a soup or an entirely different category of food. Peter didn’t feel like waiting until he got home to respond, so he texted with one hand while he shot webs with the other. His eyes were glued to his phone as he went to grab a web that wasn’t anywhere close to where he thought it was. He went crashing to the ground, landing right on his right arm. He heard the crunch loud and clear and let out a little whimper. Peter peeled himself off the pavement and pulled his mask off to look at his arm.

“Well that’s not good.” He mumbled when he saw the curve in a place his arm didn’t typically curve.

He knew there was no way he could swing home with the arm but he was too far to walk. He looked around and realized he was in your neighborhood. He’d been to your place once before when Tony first bought you an apartment and wondered if he could find it again by memory. He ran up and down the block until he spotted a window with a light on near the top floor of a building twice the size of Peters. He could see a little Iron Man flag in the window and took a leap of faith that that was your apartment. He cradled his arm to his chest and gingerly climbed the side of the building until he reached the window. He used his head to knock on the window and sighed in relief when he saw you running to open it.

“Peter? What are you doing up here?” You whispered.

“I’m sorry. I would never bother you at home but I got hurt really badly and I can’t swing.” Peter winced and held up his arm. You could see exactly where the break was and put a hand over your mouth.

“Oh my God. Come in.” You said as you wrapped an arm around him and helped him inside. You helped Peter sit down on your couch before sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

“Let me see this.” You said and gently moved his hand away from his arm. It was bent in an awkward way and resembled an “s”, something you didn’t know arms could do.

“Is it bad?” Peter asked you.

“One second.” You smiled sweetly and calmly walked into the next room. When you returned, you had a forced smile on your face.

“It’s not bad.” You answered him.

“You went over there to gag gagged, didn’t you?”

“I did. I’m sorry.” You cringed. “Broken bones gross me out.”

“Oh shit. You think it’s broken?” Peter asked and held the arm up. It limply hung in the air and you gagged again.

“Peter, honey, it looks like a fish hook.”

“Yeah. That’s probably not good, right?” He asked as he looked at it.

“I need to get you to a hospital.” You decided and grabbed your car keys.

“A hospital? That won’t be necessary. There’s no need for all that fuss. Can’t we just wrap it up and call it a day?” Peter laughed nervously.

“I don’t think so. I can put bandaids on your other cuts but this needs to be looked at by a real doctor.”

“You said you’ve seen every season of Greys Anatomy right? Can’t you just put on an episode and do what they do?”

“All they do is have sex during work hours. We can’t do that right now.” You shook your head as you threw your coat on. Peter stopped panicking for a second and felt his face heat up.

“But later?” He asked. You playfully rolled your eyes at him and set your keys down.

“Hang on. We gotta get you out of those clothes.”

“Really? Now?” Peter gulped and grabbed his shirt with his free hand.

“Well we can’t get checked out as Spiderman without the doctors seeing this pretty face.” You teased and cupped his chin before walking towards your room.

“Oh. Right.” He blushed and touched his chin.

“I’ll grab some of my stuff.” You called from your room. You returned shortly with a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. Peter pressed the button on the center of his suit and shimmied out of it before making eye contact with you. You gulped and quickly turned around to give him some privacy. Peter blushed and stood up to shake the suit onto the floor. He gingerly stepped into the pants and pulled them up with one hand. When it came to the hoodie, he knew there was no way he could put it on with one arm.

“Um….” He said as he struggled to get his head in the hoodie.

“You need help?” You asked over your shoulder.

“Yes please.”

You laughed and turned around to help Peter get dressed. You pulled his head through the opening and laughed when his messy hair stuck straight up.

“Thank you.” Peter smiled shyly as you fixed his hair.

“Anytime.” You smiled back.

“I kinda hate that your pants fit me.” He said sheepishly and looked down at the pants you had given him.

“Why? I think you look great in my clothes.”

“Oh. Well thank you.” He blushed. “You’d probably look great in mine.”

“I don’t know if I have the muscles to fill out your suit.” You sighed and nodded towards his discarded suit.

“It doesn’t have to be the suit. You’d look good in just my T shirt.”

“Just your T shirt?” You asked coyly, making Peter go bright red.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He quickly explained.

“We can put your theory to the test later. Let’s get your arm looked at first.” You said and pulled him towards the door. Peter gulped and made it all the way to the car before stopping in his tracks.

“I can’t go to the hospital.” He blurted. You stopped and looked at him and we’re supposed to see the embarrassed look on his face as he cradled his arm.

“Why not?” You asked him as you put your hand on his shoulder. Peter looked at your hand before looking into your eyes and sighing.

“My aunt would never be able to afford it with her new job.” He admitted. “We’re barely making rent as it is. I can’t put this on her.”

“So don’t.” You shrugged. “Put it on my dads card.”

“I can’t just charge my medical bills to your dad.” Peter laughed uncomfortably.

“Sure you can. He won’t even notice. And if he asks about the card, I’ll just tell him I was shopping.” You insisted and pulled Peter towards your car.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” He shook his head and stayed where he was.

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. Actually, I’m forcing. Get in the car.” You insisted as you opened the passenger door. You playfully pushed him into the car and buckled his seatbelt for him. You then climbed into the drivers seat and started the car.

“Thank you.” He smiled shyly when you looked over at him.

“Of course. You can trust me, Peter. I’m your friend.” You smiled back and started to drive.

“Right.” His nodded as his smile faltered a little at the word “friend” but he didn’t say anything. By the time you pulled up to the hospital, Peter was in bad shape. His arm was swelling and causing him more pain than he had ever felt. You opened his door and helped him out of the car, feeling the way he was barely able to hold himself up.

“Hey, Y/n?” Peter winced and held on tight to you.

“Yeah, Peter?”

“Do you think you could lift someone my size?”

“Maybe. Why?”

“Because I’m about to pass out.” He said right before collapsing onto the ground.

When Peter woke up later in his hospital bed, he felt a whole lot better. So much better, in fact, that he didn’t even notice the giant blue cast on his arm. He didn’t know if it was the morphine he had been given or fact that you were sitting at his bedside with your hand that was keeping him pain free.

“Hey, Peter.” You smiled softly at him and brushed the hair off his forehead. Peter sat up a little in his bed and smiled back.

“So pretty. You look nothing like your dad.” He said sleepily.

“What was that?” You laughed even though you had definitely heard him.

“Want jello.” Peter said and licked his dry lips. You held his cup of water to his lips and helped him drink as the doctor came in.

“Oh, good. He’s awake.” The doctor said.

“Woah. What happened?” Peter asked ad he noticed his cast.

“We had to do surgery on your arm to set the bone back into place. You’ll be in a cast for the next six to eight weeks.”

“I didn’t know your favorite color so I picked blue. I hope that’s okay.” You explained sheepishly.

“Blue is great. Thank you.” Peter smiled at you as he slowly felt more with it.

“It’s a good thing your girlfriend brought you in when she did. You had free fluid in your arm. It could’ve been much worse if you hadn’t come in right away.” The doctor told him.

“Oh. She’s not my-“

“Thank, doctor. Is there anything we should do now?” You cut him off as you turned to the doctor.

“He’s safe to bring home. Just keep the arm elevated and don’t get it wet. I can prescribe some pain meds as well.”

“Thank you. And could we get some jello too please?” You requested.

“No problem. I’ll be right back with that.” The doctor smiled and left the room.

“You broke your wrist, elbow and radius bone. Which I just found out is the bone in between your wrist and elbow. Who knew it had a name? But that’s why the cast goes so high.” You explained to Peter once you were alone.

“Damn. That’s a lot of bones. No wonder it hurts.” He said and shifted uncomfortably in the bed. It didn’t actually hurt that bad, but he liked it when you were worried about him.

“Oh no. It does? Can I do anything?” You asked and brushed his hair back again. Peter blushed and smiled softly as he looked into your concerned eyes.

“Just keep holding my hand, please. It helps with the pain.” He said and faked a cough for added measure. You fell right for it and squeezed his hand.

“It’s gonna be okay, Peter. I won’t leave your side. But do you want me to call your aunt?”

“No, this will just freak her out. I’ll tell her tomorrow.”

“Okay. You could crash at my place tonight if you want. I’ll drive you home tomorrow so we can tell her together. I wrote down everything the doctor said since you were still knocked out.”

“Wow. Thank you.” Peter smiled in appreciation when you showed him the list you had made. You smiled back and put the list down on his bedside table before looking at him. Peter was gazing at you intently because he could tell you had something on your mind.

“I like the color you picked.” Peter said to cut the silence.

“Oh, thanks. I was gonna go with red but I always thought you looked best in blue.” You said without looking at him. Peter blushed at the casual compliment and tilted his head to get you to look at him. You finally did look into his eyes and smiled softly.

“Peter, could I….”

“Yes?” Peter sat up eagerly at your question.

“Sign your cast?” You finished your sentence and he sat back in his bed.

“Oh, sure.” He agreed. You pulled a sharpie out of your bag and wrote your name on the front of Peters cast. Peters face reddened when he saw how big you had written it and he looked at his cast proudly.

“First one.” You smiled and put the sharpie down.

“Probably one of the only ones that will be on here.” Peter chuckled.

“Oh, really? Maybe I should add something else then.” You said and picked the sharpie back up. Peter couldn’t see what you were drawing until you gently turned his cast towards him.

“Do you like it?” You asked timidly. Peter looked at his cast and saw that you had drawn a big heart around your name.

“I love it.” Peter blushed. “Thank you.”

“Of course. It’s an honor to be the first.” You told him. “Oh, and I went by the tower while you were sleeping and grabbed some of your clothes. The doctor said I can take you home once you can stand on your own.”

“I feel great, actually. Thanks for getting the clothes.” Peter thanked you as he got out of his bed. He got changed in the bathroom and met you in the room once he was done. You helped Peter get signed out before taking him back to your apartment.

“Stay here. I’ll make up the bed for you. Can I get you anything?” You asked as you helped Peter sit on your couch.

“Could I have some water please?”

“Of course.” You cupped his chin before going to get him a glass of water. Peter would be lying if he said he didn’t love the way you were babying him because of his injury. You returned with his water and sat beside him on the couch.

“Is there anything else I could get you?”

“I would love to shower. But I can’t get my cast wet.” Peter frowned and looked at his cast.

“You don’t have to.” You said and got back up. You returned shortly with a black garbage bag and held it up to show Peter.

“You’re a genius.” He smiled and got up from the couch.

“I aim to please.” You shrugged and opened the bag up. Peter went to put his arm inside but you stopped him.

“Um, you should probably take off your shirt before I put this on.” You said sheepishly.

“Oh. Right.” Peter replied and tried to take his shirt off, which proved to be difficult with only one hand. After watching him struggle for a bit, you grabbed the hem and helped him take it off. Peters face reddened as you pulled the shirt over his head and he smiled softly. You did your best to keep your eyes on his as you tied the bag around his arm and tried not to look at his body.

“There. That should protect it from any water.” You said as you never broke eye contact.

“Thanks. That was really smart.” Peter said quietly. You stayed staring at each other for a little too long before you snapped out of it.

“The bathroom is the first door on the left. Shampoo and conditioner is all in there. And I have extra towels under the sink.“ You said as you stepped away from him.

“Cool. Thank you.” He smiled once again before walking to the bathroom. Your garbage bag idea worked perfectly and he was able to clean himself without getting any water on the cast. He dried himself off to the best of his ability with one hand and stepped back into his boxers and sweatpants from before. That’s when he realized he had left his shirt out in the living room with you. Peter gulped and fixed his hair in the mirror before going to find you again.

“Hey. All clean?” You asked when he came back into the living room.

“Yep. Could you take this thing off of me?” Peter asked and held up his arm.

“Sure.” You gulped and went over to him. You put on your best performance of pretending he wasn’t shirtless and glistening from the shower as you untied the bag and pulled it off. You made eye contact once again and quickly looked anywhere but his naked torso.

“Do you need help getting your shirt back on?” You asked and hoped the answer was yes.

“It’s okay. I think I can do it. You’ve already done so much.” Peter said as he grabbed the shirt. He managed to get one arm and both shoulders in before realizing he had no way of getting his cast through the shirt.

“I’m stuck.” He whined, making you laugh a little. He had his good arm sticking out over his head and his shirt riding up like a crop top .

“Aw. Look at you.” You chuckled and carefully pulled his broken arm through the shirt.

“Thanks. Again.” Peter laughed as well now that he was dressed.

“You’re very welcome. Now follow me. I’ll show you your bed.” You said and brought Peter to your guest bedroom. You had set it up for him while he was in the shower and put lots of extra pillows so he would be comfortable.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” You turned to him to ask. Peter looked down at your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes.

“Um….” He trailed off and looked over at the bed.

“How about some sleep?”

“Yeah.” He laughs through a yawn. “That sounds really good. Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Anytime, Peter. Goodnight.” You squeezed his arm before leaving the room. Peter stayed frozen in place for a minute and tried to touch his arm where you hand had just been, then remembered it was broken.

Peter woke up the next morning to the sweet smell of pancakes. He got out of bed and noticed that the pain in his arm had almost completely gone away. He flexed his fingers, something the doctor mentioned that he probably wouldn’t be able to do for a while, and realized his arm was probably mostly healed. He decided not to mention that discovery to you as he went to go find you.

“Good morning.” You smiled at Peter when he walked into your kitchen.

“It’s a very good morning. Hi.” He smiled back as you handed him a cup of orange juice.

“Sit. Eat. I can cut it for you if you need.” You offered as you put a plate of pancakes in front of Peter.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to.” Peter smiled gratefully and picked up his fork. He went to pick up his knife and remembered his arm was in a cast.

“Hm.” He hummed when he realized his dilemma.

“Here. I got it.” You chuckled and took his fork. You cut Peters food up for him as he watched you with a dreamy smile. He’d never gotten this much attention from you before, or any girl for that matter. He was starting to think this broken arm was a gift from God.

“After breakfast, I can take you home and we can tell May together.” You offered as you got up and grabbed a spray bottle and a comb from the bathroom.

“Thank you. For everything. You’ve done so much already.”

“Please. I’ve barely done anything.” You scoffed and proceeded to wet his hair and then comb out his bed head. Peter turned to look at you with his newly styled hair and you sheepishly put the comb down.

“Okay. I see your point. I just like to take care of people. And I feel bad that you broke your arm. I’m sorry if I’m doing too much.” You explained as you sat back down.

“That’s okay. I’m not used to be taken care of like this. It’s kinda nice.” Peter admitted without looking at you.

“I think it’s nice too. To look after you.” You replied. You looked into each others eyes for a moment and exchanged a smile. Peter finished up his breakfast and got back into your car to go tell May what happened. As you explained to her everything the doctor had told you, all May could focus on was the pretty girl Peter had brought home.

“Wait, sorry, who are you?” May interrupted with an excited smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Y/n Stark. Peter works with my dad. He got hurt on patrol and my apartment was as close by.” You explained.

“It’s so nice to meet you. I’m so glad Peter had such a lovely girl to take care of him. And that he knew where your apartment was. Because he’s been there before?” May asked and clasped her hands under her chin.

“Oh my God.” Peter groaned and hung his head. “It’s not like that, May.”

“Peter’s a friend.” You chuckled. “But I was happy to look after him.”

“Well I appreciate that. And I know he does too. He talks about you all the time, you know. I just didn’t realize it was you. He didn’t tell me how pretty you were.” May added.

“May.” Peter said warningly.

“Oh, thank you.” You laughed awkwardly. “Well, I should probably get going. See you later, Peter.”

“She’s cute.” May said once you were gone.

“She is. But you’ll probably never see her again because you just scared her off.” Peter groaned.

“I don’t know. Don’t think I don’t see that signature on your cast. It’s gonna take a lot more than an overbearing aunt to scare that girl off.” May said coyly.

“Wait, you really think so?” Peter asked.

“I’m just saying. I wouldn’t go to that length for just a friend.” May shrugged. A smile crossed Peters face as it occurred to him this broken arm might have been exactly what he needed to get you to like him back.

Peter walked into campus next day with his cast in a sling. He went to the table he usually sat at between classes and saw Ned already sitting there.

“Hey dude. You never texted me back last- OH MY GOD.” Ned screamed and pointed when he saw the cast.

“Calm down. I’m okay. I just broke my arm.” Peter said with a huge smile.

“Uh, why do you seem so happy about it?”

“Because Y/n Stark took care of me.” Peter whispered excitedly as he sat down.

“Wait, Tony Starks daughter?” Neds eyes widened. “What?! How?”

“I couldn’t swing so I had to go to the nearest apartment I could find, which was hers. She drove me to the hospital and got me clothes while I was in surgery. Then she brought me home and let me sleep at her place.” Peter explained.

“You slept at a girls place?” Ned’s jaw dropped as he grabbed Peters shoulders.

“I know! I wish you could’ve seen it, Ned. She was so worried about me so she did everything for me. I’m talking combing my hair, cutting my food, she even helped me get dressed. Honestly, I think she might like me.”

“That’s hilarious.” Ned laughed. “Good thing you didn’t break your funny bone. Oh my God, wait, did you?”

“No, dude. I’m serious. You should’ve seen her. She was all over me in a way she never has been before. I think this broken arm is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Peter!” Your voice came from behind Peter so he and Ned turned around in confusion.

“Woah. What’s she doing here?” Ned asked and shook Peters arm.

“I have no idea.” Peter replied as a smile broke out on his face.

“Hi. I hope it’s okay I showed up like this.” You said as you sat down beside Peter.

“It’s totally okay. I’m happy to see you.” Peter said and leaned on his good arm to stare at you.

“I know it must be hard to do things for yourself with only one hand, so I thought I would bring you lunch. My dad mentioned that you always eat all the peanut butter when you’re at the tower so I made you a PBJ. Do you like those?” You asked him.

“I love them. Thank you so much. This is so nice of you. You didn’t have to do that.” Peter said and touched your arm.

“It’s okay. I wanted to. I also cut you up some apple slices and packed a juice box.” You said and showed Peter was else was in the lunch bag you had brought.

“No way! I love apple juice.” Peters eyes lit up when he saw the juice. He reached for him but you put your hand on his arm.

“I got it.” You smiled at Peter and put the straw into the juice box. You then held the juice box up so that he could sip it, all while Ned watched in disgust.

“Oh my.” Ned mumbled.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” You asked Peter.

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“I figured since you can’t go on patrol while you’re healing, you could come hang with me at the tower. My dads been working on some new technology and I think you’d be a great help.”

“Yeah, yeah that sounds awesome.” Peter grinned and nodded his head.

“Oh, good. You said yes.” You smiled timidly. “I could pick you up after class?”

“Sure. I get out at 4:25.”

“I’ll be here. See you later, Peter.” You squeezed his arm and got up to leave.

“Did you see that? This arm is a goldmine! She’s never been this interested in me!” Peter exclaimed once you were gone.

“No girl has!” Ned said with equal excitement.

“This is even better than the spider bite. I hope I never heal.” Peter sighed happily and looked at his cast.

“Can I sign it?” Ned asked and fished in his backpack for a pen.

“Of course.” Peter smiled and moved his cast towards Ned. Ned gently held Peters arm in place and tried to write on the top of his cast above his elbow.

“Ugh, it’s too curved. Can you flex so I can get a solid surface?”

“No, I can’t flex my broken arm. And your name is just three letters. Is it really that hard?”

“I wanted to draw the blue amongus guy. Please?” Ned whined.

“Fine.” Peter rolled his eyes and flexed his arm the bets he could to give Ned a flat surface. When he did this, the cast cracked in half and fell in two pieces onto Peters lap. Chalk from the inside filled the air, making Peter and Ned cough as they waved it away.

“Oh shit.” Peter said and flexed his arm back and forth. Sure enough, it was perfectly healed.

“Dude!” Ned coughed. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to do that.”

“My arm is healed. Damn it!” Peter groaned and slammed his now healed arm on the table.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Ned asked as he drew an amongus character on one of the halves of Peters cast.

“No. My broken arm was the one thing making Y/n pay attention to me. Without it, she’ll want nothing to do with me.” Peter sighed and rubbed his face.

“Maybe you could break your other arm?” Ned suggested. “Or both arms?

“I’m not gonna break my arm on purpose. That’s too crazy. I just need a new cast.” Peter said as he began to brainstorm.

“Maybe not. Maybe you just need some tape.” Ned said as he held the two halves of the cast together. Peter looked at the two halves and smiled as he formed a plan.

Peter texted you that he’d meet you at the tower instead so that he could rush home to work on his plan. When you opened the tower door to greet him, the first thing you noticed was that his cast had been wrapped in duck tape down the middle that was then colored with a blue sharpie. You could see spots of wet Elmer’s glue around the obvious crack, despite the sling Peter had placed the arm in.

“Hi!” He greeted you.

“Hey, you. What happened to your cast?” You laughed and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing. I just scuffed it a little.” Peter lied and pulled it deeper into the sling.

“Uh huh. Come in.” You chuckled skeptically and led him to the lab. You held the door open for Peter and noticed him touching it with his broken hand as he passed through. You were already skeptical and decided to play with him a little.

“This is so cool. Your dad never lets me in here.” Peter said as he looked around the lab in awe.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Come sit.” You smiled innocently and patted a chair at the lab table that wasn’t pulled out. Peter pulled it out with his broken hand and sat beside you. You eyed him curiously and he gave you an awkward smile. You decided not to expose him just yet and let him help you with a few things around the lab for an hour. He was beyond excited just to be there and you didn’t want to ruin it just yet.

“Can you figure out this formula for me?” You asked and handed Peter a marker.

“Sure.” He smiled and went to the whiteboard. He started writing with his broken hand and you watched with an amused smile.

“You should probably use your other hand.” You said, making Peter freeze.

“Oh. Right.” Peter forced a laugh. “I keep forgetting it’s broken. Which it definitely is. You saw it.”

“I did see it. Does it still hurt?” You asked and touched the sling.

“Oh yeah.” He lied. “Real bad.”

“Aw. Poor baby.” You pouted and brushed some hair off his face. Peter gulped and blushed under your touch as he made a fist with his broken hand. You noticed him moving his supposedly broken hand and decided to tease him a little.

“You know, it’s really a shame your arm is broken.” You said and took a step towards him.

“Why?”

“Because we have the place to ourselves. We could’ve had a little fun together. But obviously we can’t, with your broken arm and all.” You replied and watched his face carefully for a reaction.

“A little fun?” Peter gulped again as you got even closer.

“You know….” You smiled coyly and walked your fingers up his arm.

“No.” Peter swallowed. “I don’t know.”

“Come on. You’re telling me you haven’t dreamed of fooling around in one of the giant rooms in this place?” You asked and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“And you’re saying that’s what we would be doing? If my arm was healed?” Peter asked with wide eyes.

“Uh huh. Too bad it’s not.” You sighed dramatically and took a step back. Peter looked down at his fake broken arm and contemplated telling the truth.

“Yeah. That’s too bad.” He mumbled.

“Hey Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Catch.” You said and tossed a paper weight at him. Peter caught it with ease in his broken hand, making his cast break in half again. You raised your eyebrows as Peter squeezed his eyes shut.

“Shit.” He whispered.

“Don’t feel bad.” You chuckled. “I knew you were faking it the second you walked in.”

“You did?” Peter sighed and pulled the cast and sling off.

“Come on, Peter. Duct tape?”

“I know. I’m not a craft boy.” Peter admitted with defeat.

“I can tell. So what’s with the fake cast?” You wondered as you folded your arms.

“The first one was real. I swear. But it healed quicker then I thought it would and I didn’t need it anymore.”

“Then why would you tape the cast around your healed arm?”

“Because I didn’t want you to know it was healed.” Peter mumbled, just barely audible but you still heard it.

“What?” You laughed. “Why not?”

Peter sighed again before looking into your eyes. You looked at him expectingly and he knew there was no way out of this.

“Because then you won’t hang out with me anymore.” He said with a sad smile.

“What?” Your smiled faded as your arms dropped.

“Before I broke my arm, I had trouble getting you to even look my way. But that night in your apartment, I never lost your attention. Not even once. And then you showed up at my school and met my friend and I guess I liked that so much that I wasn’t ready to let go of it yet. So I taped my cast back together to keep your attention a little longer. I’m sorry.”

“Peter, I didn’t do all those things because you have a broken arm. I did them because I like you.” You said as walked back towards him.

“You do?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “Even though I have two normal arms?”

“It’s something I’m willing to look past.” You smiled teasingly. Peter smiled back before winced and gripping his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

“I kinda triggered the injury when I broke the cast.” He grimaced and moved his shoulder in a circle.

“Aw. Do you want me to kiss it better?” You laughed sarcastically.

“Yeah. Can you?” Peter replied with equal sarcasm and held up his arm. You moved his arm down away from his face and leaned in to kiss him. Once Peter processed what was happening, he was able to kiss you back. He wrapped his now healed arm around your waist to pull you in, feeling the dull ache he got from moving it but deciding it was worth it.

“Any better?” You asked once you pulled away.

“Much.” Peter smiled and went to kiss you again.

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

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dreaming-medium · 1 month

Text

No Contact

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Word Count: 7.6k

Tags: ANGST with a happy ending, amnesia, memory loss, grief, pining, yearning, hurt/comfort

Summary: It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen. You weren't supposed to be in that car, but you were. When you lose your memories from the incident, Chan is ordered to stay away for your recovery's sake; but it takes a larger toll on him than anyone could have imagined. Until one day, he just can't take it anymore.

A/N: inspired by this post. Angst ahoy <3 I had too much fun writing this. Maybe I like writing emotions. Enjoy <3

—————————————————————

No contact. That’s what Chan was told was best for you. That’s what was going to help your healing process.

No contact whatsoever. No texts, no calls, no little surprise visits. No fucking contact. None.

He was told it would just hurt you if he talked to you— that he would just make it worse. That you would only become more confused and upset. It would be absolutely detrimental for him to see you.

Hell, it might even make you worse.

It’s killing Chan slowly. Every single day feels like torture for him. The days get exponentially worse. He feels like a hollow shell of his former self, like the wind goes through him when he steps foot outside. It feels like his shoulders are permanently sagged forward.

But the worst part is that you don’t even know it. You don’t know how he’s collapsing inwards like a dying star.

It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen in years. A friend was driving you home that night; Chan had begged to be the one to pick you up, but no, you said it was fine, the friend was heading that way anyway. Why make the unnecessary trip?

You told him he needed sleep. Always putting his needs before your own. You always did.

He should’ve put up more of a fuss. He should’ve put his foot down. He should’ve already been outside the house in his car with the passenger seat warmer on by the time you left that stupid party.

He should’ve gotten out of the car and opened the door for you and had a cold bottle of water waiting in the cup holder. He should’ve kissed you on the cheek and asked you all about your time. He should have been there.

But he wasn’t.

A drunk driver slammed into the passenger side of your friend’s car at a speed that you shouldn’t have even survived.

Miracles do happen, though. But what a price to pay for a miracle.

For as long as he lives, Chan will never forget the sheer panic and terror he felt when the call came in from your mother. You were already at the hospital undergoing emergency surgery.

He was the last to know.

After all, he wasn’t your emergency contact. He’s only your boyfriend.

Was. Was your boyfriend. Was? Is that the right word? He isn’t. But he is. There was no breakup.

Is that what he’s going through right now? A breakup?

You’re not on a break. But what is this? What is this loss? This severance is so horrible.

It’s fucked up. It’s a fucked up, amnesia induced breakup.

Memory loss is a funny thing. Doctors scratch their heads and shrug their shoulders without any answers. The brain is a tricky thing.

Chan did what he was allowed to in that hospital. He sat in that stark white room under those harsh LED lights and he waited until you were awake. He even waited much longer after that because only two visitors were permitted inside your room at a time— and he wasn’t about to force his way in and kick one of your parents out.

He let your sister go in first. He even let your cousin go in before him. But when it was finally his turn…

He never got to see you.

“The last five years?” Chan asked with a tight throat. Did he even have any more tears left to cry? How is there any liquid left in his body?

“She says doesn’t remember anything, Chan.” Your mother’s voice was just as hollow as his. “She was asking about her freshman roommate.”

A doctor stood in between him and your mom. “It’s best if we don’t throw everything at her at once. Amnesia victims rarely never get their memories back, but we’ve found that it needs to happen organically. Seeing her will overwhelm her and that could stunt the healing process.”

Chan’s mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out at all. His heart may have stopped.

Does that mean…?

No…

“He can’t see her at all?” Your mother asked quietly. “Not even to visit? He doesn’t have to mention he’s her boyfriend, he can just say that he’s a friend, or a coworker, or—“

The doctor cut her off. “No contact. Not until we’re a bit through recovery and she’s starting to get her memories back.”

Chan was suddenly in a chair.

When did he sit down? The Doctor’s hands were on his shoulders and he was looking down at him with a sympathetic stare.

“It’s not forever, son.”

Chan was only able to nod. His mouth was so dry, the back of his neck felt clammy. His head was spinning.

Books often speak of moments as ‘Earth-shattering’. Of moments so catastrophic that the planet stops spinning on its axis and time stands still.

He gets it now.

The doctor spoke a few more words to your mother before walking away. She looked down at Chan sadly.

Your mother sat on the chair next to him and wrapped him up in a hug. His world was falling apart around him. You were slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t even see you.

Hot tears poured down his face while he sat there with his head in his hands. Why does it feel like he’s losing you? Why is this the only way? Why are these the cards that are being dealt?

Why didn’t he pick you up from that fucking party?

“She loves you, Chan… she’ll come to her senses, I promise, I promise.”

It’s been two months, one week, two days and eight hours since he’s talked to you. That long since he’s known peace. Since he’s known any sort of comfort.

You’re the last thing he thinks about before he closes his eyes at night and the first thing he thinks about in the morning. No matter how many times he wakes up and feels the cold bed next to him, it never dulls the ache in his chest.

It’s not a healthy mindset, he knows. And it’s not that you were codependent on one another, that’s not it at all. You were just… ripped away from him.

Food has no taste. The sky isn’t as blue as it used to be. Clouds don’t make fun shapes like they did with you by his side. The stars are still in the sky, he thinks, he hasn’t had the guts to look at them.

God, you love the stars so much. You always talked about how pretty they are— how absolutely breath-taking you think the universe is. Chan would simply listen, he would always listen. All he ever wanted to do was listen.

How is he supposed to look at anything the same way? How is any day supposed to be normal when half of his life is suddenly missing. What’s the point of making music if you’re not there to listen to it?

5:00 PM is the hardest hour to get through. You don’t open the door to his apartment when you get off work. You don’t tell him about the things that happened during your shift.

He can’t leave little snacks out on the counter for you to eat when you get home like he used to.

Mice would get to it before you did.

His lonely apartment is slowly losing your smell. He could spray your perfume, sure, you keep a bottle at his place, but it’s not the same. You somehow made the scent sweeter by letting it linger on your skin.

All of your old toiletries are still there where you left them. Your spare toothbrush has been bone dry and untouched since 9:28 AM that morning. Your shampoo bottles are still half full and waiting for you on your shower shelf.

It had rained a few days before your accident. You had started a puzzle on his dining room table that day– you told him it was the perfect rainy day activity. It was a picture of different comic book covers. It’s now collecting dust. Unmoved and unsolved.

Just like him.

It was a battle and a half to throw away your leftovers from two nights before your car accident. He felt like he was throwing away your normal life, your tiny domestic traces.

He didn’t want to cleanse you from his life, but you were washing away. Your ghost was eroding with time.

Your spare car keys are still hanging on the key ring. Your rain coat is on the third hook draped right over your work bag. Even your phone charger is still plugged into the wall on your side of the bed.

Did you know you forgot to put your favorite gold earrings on that night? You left them on the nightstand. They’re still there, don’t worry. Right next to the glass of water you drank half of.

Do you even remember them…? He got them for you for your first Christmas together.

There are so many signs of a life interrupted integrated so deeply into his.

You’re a clock whose hands stopped suddenly at 1:24 AM.

This sort of haunting is unbearable. You’re not a phantom in his life, though. You’re something so unattainable that he had once but it was taken away with empty promises of return.

It’s like you’re a shiny diamond hidden away beneath lasers and traps like in those stupid, cheesy spy movies you love so much.

Do you know what he would give to watch one of those with you in his arms right now?

Chan feels like he’s banging on the glass of a one sided window, screaming for you to remember him. Meanwhile you’re on the other side only staring into a mirror, trying to pick up the pieces from before.

Your mom sends him updates on your condition all the time. He knows that you started working at the local library about three weeks ago.

You had worked there in college before graduating and getting your last job. It was one of your favorite jobs you ever had. That library was so special to you.

To him too.

It’s the library where he first met you.

The same library Chan finds himself in front of now.

He shouldn’t go in. He can’t go in. He absolutely should not go inside.

Bang Chan you should not and cannot go inside this library. Under no circumstances should you step foot inside this building where your other half is working.

Absolutely not.

The door emits a soft ding when he opens it. Electronic. Quiet. Peaceful.

There’s a certain type of silence that sits in a library. It’s closer, thicker— warmer. It’s an expected silence. They’re supposed to be quiet.

Chan can hear his sneakers take every step on the carpeted floor. There’s no one sitting behind the front desk; that’s where you usually were.

His eyes look all around, but there’s no sign of you anywhere. A few people toddle around the shelves.

There’s more soft beeping coming from the self checkout. That’s new. They didn’t have that when you worked here years ago. You probably hate it.

On the day he met you, you were wearing a pair of dark green pants and a black long sleeve shirt. Your hair was clipped behind your head and pieces were falling over your face.

Chan was only in the library to look for the bathroom. He was on his way to lunch with a friend, but he just had to stop somewhere. The library was the closest option.

When he had heard the sound of books falling, he investigated and found you in the center of the carnage, the glasses on your nose sat crookedly and you rubbed your head.

Your eyes met. He was a goner.

How disgustingly poetic that he finds himself here now. Where he really shouldn’t be. He was quite literally prescribed a restraining order against you.

Chan meanders around with his hands in his pockets, the silence getting louder and louder the further he gets inside.

Maybe you’re not working today?

No one is anywhere to be seen. He’s checking down all the aisles but he doesn’t see you anywhere.

Maybe it’s for the best that you’re not here. He’s not supposed to see you anyway. He’s breaking the doctor’s rules by doing this anyway.

He needs to leave. He needs to get out of here.

His feet stop in front of the very aisle where he saw you for the first time.

Empty.

You-less.

If he thinks hard enough, Chan can picture you in front of him, laughing quietly with the most adorable, embarrassed blush on your cheeks.

What a moment.

Is it possible to spend eternity in that moment? Obviously internal clocks can be rewound, paused, flipped every which way; can he go back to that day? Can he go back to the day where every single poem suddenly made sense?

He would take any day, really, any day that had you in it. Birthdays, holidays, late night dates, Hell, he’d even take a day where he only saw you when you dropped off a drink for him in his studio.

Anything, he would take anything just to see your smile bloom on your face while he watches.

“Can I help you find something?”

His breath catches in his throat, it feels like he’s physically punched in the chest. That voice. That beautiful, melodic voice. He hasn’t heard it in person in months, only in videos he had on his phone.

Slowly, Chan turns to face the source of his favorite pitch.

His throat immediately tightens.

There you are. You. Beautiful you.

Standing right there. Looking at him like a complete fucking stranger.

“I…” his voice is hoarse. Chan can feel the tears in his eyes begin to form. He didn’t think this through, did he?

You’re staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to say anything. You’re waiting, come on, Chan. Speak up. Say something.

Looking up at the shelf, you look back down at him with a smile. “A history guy, hm?”

No.

“Yeah.”

You giggle. “I always had a thing for History.”

He knows.

“Really?”

“Mhmm.” You respond with a grin.

Specifically Ancient Rome. He knows.

You continue. “Specifically Ancient Rome.”

Chan nods and clears his throat. His palms feel so sweaty. His chest is almost panting. Every single cell in his body just wants to lunge forward and wrap you in a hug.

He wants to bury his face in your neck and sob while you hold him. He wants to tell you that he missed you so much. He wants to tell you how your pillow is losing the scent of your shampoo. He wants to tell you that he’s been DVR-ing your favorite show so that you can watch it later. He wants to tell you about his day. He wants to kiss you until you’re breathless. He wants you to hear the new song he’s been working on.

But—

“If you need anything, let me know.”

You start to walk away.

Chan feels his heart physically break. It’s happening again. He’s on the other side of that one way mirror. It’s happening again! No, no please.

His eyes widen, the words get caught in his throat. Fuck, Y/N, please!

“W-Wait!” he says quickly.

You turn around with a curious look.

“The Odyssey,” he blurts. “Where uh… where can I find it?”

Your eyes light up. “Oh, I love The Odyssey.”

He knows. You collect different translations of it.

“I collect different translations of that book, here I’ll show you where it is.”

With a little hop in your step you lead him towards all the classics.

He watches you like you’re an oasis in the desert— maybe it’s because you are. You’re what he’s been crawling towards for two months.

You lead him all the way to the shelf where the Odyssey lives. Your nimble fingers reach forward and grab one of the copies.

Green nail polish. You still paint your nails green. You picked that habit up a year after he met you.

The memories have to be there, Y/N, they have to be. Chan bought you that first bottle of green nail polish as a joke on Saint Patrick’s Day.

Y/N, please.

“This translation is my favorite,” you whisper and hand him the book.

Chan smiles sadly and takes the book from you, unable to meet your eyes. He knows if he gazes into those gorgeous eyes that he’ll lose it. He’ll fall to his knees and cry.

“Thank you,” he whispers back.

You stand there for a moment, he can feel your eyes on his face. He always has been able to tell when you were looking at him, it’s a little, secret superpower.

From foot to foot, your weight shifts.

You only do that when you’re confused. Why are you confused? Y/N, are you confused?

“I’m sorry…” you start, sounding so unsure. “You remind me of someone…”

It feels like a defibrillator was hooked up to his chest. Chan’s eyes widen and he finally looks up at you.

You’re looking at him so carefully. He can see the gears turning in your head. Your tongue pokes out of your lips and wets them.

Y/N, please.

“I just… I can’t figure out who. Do I… do I know you? I was—” You stop yourself.

Fuck. Fuck! What was he supposed to say? Fuck!

Chan wants to scream. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and cry that he’s your soulmate, that he’s the person that knows you better than anyone else in this world.

Yes, you do, you do know him. And he knows you. He knows how you take your coffee, what movies make you cry, what color jell-o is your favorite.

He knows that you never wear matching socks and you always lift your feet when driving over railroad tracks.

He knows that when you were 6 you ran into the corner of a cabinet and that’s how you got that scar next to your eyebrow.

Chan knows that your entire life you wanted to be an author but you’re so scared of failure that you decided not to chase after it.

He knows everything.

“I just have one of those faces, I guess.” It comes out of his mouth so strained.

You stare back at him so carefully. Do you see right through him?

“Maybe,” you say slowly. You don’t believe him. He knows that tone. You absolutely do not believe a word he’s saying. “Are you sure?”

Chan swallows, he grips the book in his hand tighter. The lump in his throat almost doesn’t go down, more tears prick at his eyes.

“I would never forget a face like yours,” he chokes out.

Your eyes widen and you blush, looking to the side with a smile. You always were a sucker for cheesy compliments.

After thinking for a second, you reach into your pocket and take out a little slip of paper.

“Here,” you say after scribbling something down. Holding it out, Chan sees it’s your phone number. He has it memorized. “If you ever need more books to read… or find… call me.”

Chan takes the paper with a racing heart. He gives you a smile, his dimples showing. “I think I will,” he whispers to you.

Another few moments pass of you just staring at him before you nod and giggle nervously. “Well, I gotta get back to work, so..”

Chan nods and moves to the side. You walk past him.

Your perfume curls around him like a blanket and he craves that sweet serenity he finds when he holds you close and breathes you in.

Three steps after you pass him, you turn around. “Oh, I didn’t catch your name.”.

“Chan,” he answers softly.

“Chan,” you repeat. It goes right through him.

Your voice. Your sweet, beautiful, melodic voice. Finally, he heard you say his name again.

“I’m Y/N,” you whisper to him with a friendly smile.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Chan has to physically force the word ‘meet’ out of his mouth.

“You too, Chan.”

And with that, you were gone, retreating back into your fortress of papyrus.

—————————————————————

A bad idea was going into the library that day.

An even worse idea was texting you the day after to ask how your day is going.

And then an absolutely fucking idiotic move was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with him.

And the worst part? You said yes.

So, now here Chan was, standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom getting ready for what you thought was a first date, but to him was just a dinner date.

How is he supposed to do this? He’s not, that’s how.

Chan fiddles with his bracelet right before his phone rings.

His heart drops when he sees the caller ID, your mother.

“Ah, fuck…” he whispers before grabbing his phone. Of course you were going to tell your mom, you tell your mom everything.

“Hello?” he asks warily into the phone.

“Hi, Chan,” she says slowly, she sounds nervous, why does she sound nervous.

“How are you? Is everything okay?”

“It’s Y/N…” Her voice lowers. Chan’s heart drops. “Before you panic, she’s okay! It’s um.. she’s getting ready right now… for a date…”

Chan isn’t moving. Yes, he knows you are. He knows it. But words won’t form in his mouth.

“Channie.. I’m starting to wonder if that doctor isn’t right.. I can’t stand the thought of her finding someone else when you’re waiting for her… I tried to talk her out of it but she just seems so floaty and happy. God, I feel sick to my stomach.”

His jaw clenches. Now or never.

“It’s with me,” he blurts.

Your mom goes silent. Then a huge sigh comes out of her mouth.

“I wish I could say I’m angry,” a little laugh follows it. “I think I’m only angry that you didn’t say something.”

He tells her everything, down to the way he pretended not to know you.

“Well, you’re going to have to tell her eventually.” Your mom sounds unsure, herself.

“Or maybe she’ll remember me.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

Chan sits down on the edge of his bed. His eyes are staring at the wall, unfocused.

She’s right. What if you don’t?

“Then, I’ll just … do it all again.”

Silence greets him on the other side of the line. Another tiny laugh comes from your mom. “I always knew you two were perfect together. Just like two magnets, you always come towards one another.”

—————————————————————

“I’ve never eaten here before,” you say with a chipper smile on your face from across the table.

Yes, you have.

“Really?” Chan asks, taking a sip of his water.

“I pass it all the time and always wondered how the food was.”

He looks back down at the old menu.

This restaurant was more than special to him. It’s where he took you on your first date. It’s an old fashioned burger joint with the greasiest, most delicious French fries in town.

The first time you guys came here, you talked and talked until the place closed. And even after that, you drove around and talked until it was late.

“I’ve been here a few times, it’s really good. The milkshakes are some of the best I’ve ever had.” Chan’s sweaty hands fiddle with the menu.

He’s more nervous now than on the first date.

“What’s the best one?” you ask with a smile.

A small laugh comes out of his nose. “The peanut butter one.”

It was your favorite.

“Yeah but then you can’t have any,” you say so nonchalantly, looking down at the menu.

His eyebrows knit together. “What?”

“‘Cause of your allergy.”

He stops.

You stop.

He has a peanut allergy. Chan has a peanut allergy.

His lips purse like he’s going to say something but you beat him to the punch.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “I… I don’t know why I thought that.” Your hands grip the menu a little tighter. “Maybe I’m thinking of someone else?”

Chan shakes his head. “No, no, it’s okay. I… I do have a peanut allergy. Maybe I said something before?”

You stare at him for a long second before looking back down at the menu once more. “Yeah… um. Maybe.”

He definitely did not say something.

Dinner continues on. Chan listens to you talk and pretends he’s never heard your stories before and he tells you ones he knows he’s said before.

The entire time, you were beaming at him, just like you used to before the accident. Your face never loses its constant happy glow. He’s not sure that the muscles in your face know how to frown.

You’re the last two people in the restaurant. The staff doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe they recognize you both. Maybe.

A lull dips into your conversation. Both of you know you should leave. Neither wants to. Especially the broken man sitting across from you.

Chan takes the last sip of his drink. The bill has been paid for about an hour at this point. You’re looking down at your lap with a pink flush on your cheeks.

You bite your lip and look up at Chan carefully.

“Are you… are you sure I don’t know you, Chan?”

He stares at you. Did you know that you always bite your lip like that when you’re confused?

“I just… I really feel like I know you. There’s just…” you pause, trying to find your words. He knows you want to tell him about the accident. He knows you want to say it but you don’t want to weird him out.

What the fuck is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to tell you?

“Something happened to me a little while ago, my brain’s been… fuzzy since then,” you explain shyly. “I know you said you don’t know me but I just… I can’t help feel like that’s not true.”

Chan’s jaw clenches, his knee bounces anxiously underneath the table. His head turns to the side in his typical nervous tick.

Your mother’s words echo in his mind, his tongue suddenly feels like it’s swelling to the size of his mouth— making him unable to speak. Should he tell you? Is it now or never?

“I don’t mean to make it weird, Chan.”

He licks his lips and opens his mouth.

Your phone rings.

A sigh of relief comes from deep within Chan’s chest.

Reluctantly, you pick up the phone and hold it to your ear. “Hello? …. No, I didn’t know…. Yeah, of course…. Sure… Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

Just as quickly as you answered the phone, you hang up.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “Someone called out of work for tomorrow, they need me to come in.”

“Do you need to get going?” Chan asks, looking down at the time. It’s well past 10 o’clock.

A sad smile crosses your face. “I mean… probably.” The time on your watch flashes back at you. He can tell you don’t want to go home yet.

“Come on, Y/N, I’ll walk you home.”

Chan’s already standing up from the table, picking his jacket up off the back of his chair. You watch his movements and slowly get up, your movements screaming reluctance.

—————————————————————

It’s three dates later when the two of you are walking down the street towards your house. It’s only a few blocks from here, but you both decide to take a tiny detour through the local park.

“I have to say I’m a little excited to meet your friends,” you giggle. “I hope that’s not weird.”

You already have.

“It’s not weird at all. I’m sure they’d like you.” Chan nudges your arm with his elbow, his hands staying in his pocket.

“Changbin sounds like a blast.”

He was your favorite before.

“The two of you…” Chan thinks over his words carefully. “The two of you would definitely cause some mischief.”

And you have.

A tiny lull of comfortable silence falls over the conversation.

Both of you meander towards the swings. A cold wind blows through the air but neither of you react to it.

With a tiny giggle, you sit down on one of the swings and hold onto the chains on the side.

You are just so… you. You’re just your authentic self. Amnesia or not, you haven’t changed a bit. It’s so charming.

“I can’t remember the last time I went on the swings.” You start to move your body back and forth, not too much but enough to get the tiny thrill the toy brings.

Chan walks up and stands next to you, his hand coming out and grabbing at the chain of the swing next to yours.

The brightest smile stretches over your face.

God, it really doesn’t take a lot to make you smile, does it? He guesses that means it doesn’t take a lot for him either since he smiles when you do.

He can’t help it.

He watches you move back and forth, the cold breeze kicking up a bit more and blowing dead leaves across the sidewalk.

“What’s wrong, Chan? Allergic to swings?” you tease.

He rolls his eyes with a smirk. “No, I just far more enjoy watching you have fun.”

Your cheeks flush. If he didn’t know you, maybe he would’ve chocked it up to the cold. But he knows the difference between your blush and the elements now.

“You’re a smooth talker, Bang Chan.”

“It comes easy with you, Y/N L/N.”

Another laugh from you.

“Shameless flirt.”

He puts his hand on his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch! I just speak the truth, that’s all. Not my fault I like seeing you blush.”

Every word that comes out of his mouth feels so natural. If he really thinks about it, he’s in a weirdly unique situation. Not many couples get to start over, to feel those butterflies again. But here he is, his palms starting to get sweaty as he imagines kissing you.

Would you call it a first kiss? Maybe.

It has been four dates. It wouldn’t be.. inappropriate to kiss you, would it? The two of you kissed on your third date a few years ago.

He wants to kiss you so bad.

Should he? Shouldn’t he? God, why is this so hard?

Chan reaches out and grabs the chain of your swing, pulling it to a very gentle stop.

“Uh oh, fun police,” you tease and look up at him with a grin.

Looking down at you, Chan allows his eyes to look over every detail of your face that he already had memorized. You haven’t changed at all except the new scar on the side of your forehead from the accident.

It’s the same eyes, same nose, same chin that he fell in love with so long ago.

The same asymmetrical eyes that you’re so self conscious of but he loves. Your hair is wind blown and splayed every which way. It adds a childish charm to your features.

Very carefully, Chan moves his free hand down to cup your cheek. His warm palm soothes your ice cold face. He hears your breath catch in your throat at his touch.

His thumb swipes over your cheek, fingertips run down the soft lines of your jawline. Eventually his thumb ends up under your chin which he tilts up.

Your eyes sparkle. They somehow capture the light of the lamps around the playground. But they’ve always done that.

You’re always so enchanting.

Is this a good idea?

Is kissing you the best option?

But does he even have the strength to stop himself now?

Almost three months without feeling your lips on his has been torture, and here he is, with you in his hands and there’s still this nagging feeling that he should stop.

One look into your eyes quells that anxiety.

Your eyes keep flickering down to his own lips, the shaky breath you let out is hot against his fingers. Everything feels warmer compared to the air outside.

He can’t take it anymore.

Chan leans down and presses his lips to yours. They’re warm and slightly chapped.

But, my god, he’s never felt anything this heavenly before. It’s like his entire body unwinds. Like a fire was lit inside his stomach.

He moves his hand to the back of your head and keeps your lips pressed against his. Your head tilts to the side slightly. It’s just like he remembers.

It’s just the first kiss, he can’t let himself get carried away. He can’t.

He can’t let his fingers wind through your hair. He can’t melt into your touch on his cheek. He can’t let himself drown in your lips.

But he is.

He’s letting you consume his very soul in one kiss.

How can something feel so healing yet hurt so badly at the same time? It’s like you’re ripping open a wound and bandaging it at the same time.

No matter how hard he tries, he can’t bring his lips away from yours. Your hand slides down to caress his jawline with those soft, manicured fingers.

Your lips open and close over his like mirror images. The feeling shoots straight down into Chan’s gut. It’s like the first time for him all over again.

Those butterflies are going insane in his stomach. Your scent kicks up in the wind and he can’t help but take a large breath through his nose.

God, he can’t stop himself. It feels too good.

His hand moves from the back of your hair to cup your cheek and bring you closer.

He immediately stops.

Why is your face wet?

Chan pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you with concern written all over his expression.

You’re crying. Why … why are you crying?

Your eyes open and you look at him confused.

“Chan?” you whisper. You’re confused too. What?

“Why are you crying, Y/N?” he asks with a thick voice.

Your eyes widen and your own hand comes up to swipe at your cheeks. Sure enough, you’re met with tears.

“I… I don’t know,” you say so quietly. “I-I’m not sure.”

Chan starts backing away, your eyes snap to focus on his. Your hand shoots up to grab at his to keep him there. You’re still so confused.

Emotions are flying through your eyes. It almost looks like someone is clicking a light switch on and off in the back of your mind. A lightbulb is flickering in your soul like a dying neon sign in an old shop window.

Every muscle in your face is twitching.

What’s happening?

“Channie—“ your own voice cuts off by a sob.

Chan’s heart jumpstarts. You haven’t called him that… not in two months… that’s what you and your mother called him before the accident.

Are you…? Are you remembering? What’s happening?

Please.

Slowly, your hand falls from his.

Chan stays there, unmoving like a statue. What’s happening inside your mind right now? It looks like you’re reaching and reaching for something that you can’t quite put your finger on.

He's watching you struggle. It’s like when you can’t remember a word. It’s right there. It’s on the tip of your tongue.

You gulp, your eyes leave his and you look down at your lap. The dirt crunches under your feet as you shuffle your shoes around.

Chan swipes his thumb over your cheek, brushing away the tears. He’s biting back his own.

“It’s okay—“ “I’m sorry—“ are both said at the exact same time.

He knew it was coming. He knows you. But you don’t know him. Not anymore.

But you do.

“It wasn’t the kiss. I—“

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

You know him.

“Chan, I really loved the kiss.”

Chan. Not Channie.

He brushes his thumb over your lips. “It’s okay,” he repeats gently. “You don’t have to explain.”

His other hand comes up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes slide shut at the sensation.

Your bottom lip quivers and you pull it into your mouth and bite it. With a tight swallow, your throat bobs.

“It happens sometimes,” you whisper. “It’s from the accident I had.”

Chan continues to soothingly rub your skin with his thumb. Slowly, he kneels down to be in front of you rather than leaning over.

The dirt is cold on his knee. It seeps through the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t care less.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” he whispers back to you.

You shake your head gently, your hands folding in your lap. “No, no. I… I want to tell you. I need to tell you. It’s been happening more and more whenever I’m around you. It’s like every touch, every word you say bounces around my brain and makes me feel the worst case of deja vu.

“Every time I’m with you I feel like I’m trying to recall a dream I had last night but I just can’t remember what it was.”

You’re rambling. You only ramble when you’re overwhelmed and scared.

“Chan, every time I’m with you it feels like some part of me is screaming to be let out.”

Your eyes open and you stare right through him. Chan feels his heart squeeze and almost stop completely. Despite your best efforts, the tears keep coming.

“I was in a car accident a few months ago. I had such a severe concussion that I lost the last five years of my memory.”

How is your voice so even?

Chan’s jaw clenches. Fuck fuck fuck.

He knows. Yes, Y/N. He knows. Fuck, does he know! If anyone fucking knows, it’s him.

“I—“ he starts but you cut him off.

“Please,” you choke out and take a deep breath. “And since then I’ve been getting bits and pieces of my memory back. Sometimes they’re in large chunks, other times they just … come back.

“When I try to think about my life before the accident. There’s this… person there. Someone important. Someone so, so important that it physically hurts me to think about how I don’t know who it is. They’re a constant. And I love that they’re a constant.”

Your hand comes up to clutch at your jacket right over your chest.

More tears come out of your eyes. The whites get more pink the more they flow.

“But I know them. I do! I know them like I know the back of my hand. I-I know they love music. I know they take milk and sugar in their morning coffee. I know they don’t get enough sleep at night.”

Louder and louder your voice gets as you grow sadder and sadder. The sobs between thoughts wrack your chest.

Him. You’re talking about him.

Chan’s hands hold your face gently. His thumbs can’t keep up with how much you’re crying.

Nothing has ever hurt this bad.

You know him. You just don’t know it’s him.

Nevertheless, you continue. “I remember that they have the most obnoxious phone alarm in the morning. I remember the passcode to their phone is 032518. I know that they have this one black sweatshirt that I love to steal even though it’s their favorite.”

Chan’s own eyes begin watering, he can’t stop it. You know him. You know him. You’ve remembered him this whole time and you didn’t even know it.

You reach up and grab one of his hands and place it on your heart. Underneath your jacket, he can feel your heartbeat thudding violently against your chest.

That same heartbeat he’s been dying to listen to while you play with his hair and tell him about your day. The heartbeat he would give anything to hear as he falls asleep. His throat gets tighter and tighter.

“I’ve been surrounded by bits and pieces of a ghost and no one wants to help me. No one will tell me anything, and I’m so confused, Chan. I can tell that there’s something that everyone is avoiding telling me.”

A gust of wind picks up through the playground. It nips at his cheeks. It’s now he realizes how many tears are falling.

A sob tears from his throat.

You grip his hand tighter.

“Tell me It’s you, Chan.” You’re begging. You’re actually begging while keeping his hand pressed against your heartbeat.

“Tell me that you’re the person that I see in my dreams. Tell me you’re the one that loves when I draw hearts on the bathroom mirror after I shower. Please tell me that you’re the one that loves the smell of lemon cookies but can’t stand the taste.”

Oh, god, Y/N.

“Tell me that you’re the one that wanted to pick me up from the party that night but I said no.”

He breaks.

He breaks right down in front of you. Every single ounce of self control leaves his body and he grabs you out of the swing, yanking you towards his body and holding you against his chest. The emotions that were being kept at bay come out like a raging storm.

He falls backwards into the dirt, you come crashing into him. Your arms wrap around him at the same time he wraps around you.

Chan buries his face in your neck, one hand on the back of your head and the other firmly around your waist.

Wails leave his mouth as he holds you to him. They’re deep and come from the very depths of his soul. The wound that’s been open for months is bleeding.

Every lonely night. Every dinner where he cooked for two instead of one by accident. Every long day he came back to an empty apartment. It’s all coming out.

You’re crying just as hard as he is, both of your hands gripping the back of his hoodie like a lifeline.

Your body in his arms is like a piece of a puzzle. Like he’s the dusty one sitting on his dining room table and you finally came in and finished it.

Weeks and weeks of grief come crashing down on him. He can’t lie anymore. Not to you. Never to you.

“It is me,” he cries into your neck, his hand running over the back of your head, feeling your hair slip through his fingers. It’s just like he remembers. “It’s all me, Y/N, It’s me.”

Your cries get louder, your body starts shaking in his arms.

“I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he cries harder. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much. I missed my girl. Oh my god, I’ve missed you.”

Chan can’t pull you close enough, he can’t get you close enough to his body. You shift around and press yourself into him.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry I didn’t pick you up that night. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m so sorry you got hurt.”

Every ounce of grief is surfacing and clawing its way out of his throat.

“I’m sorry I had to lie to you these last two weeks. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was so broken without you. I broke the doctor’s orders. I needed to see you, Y/N.”

Despite how hard he has you gripped against him, you manage to pull away slightly. You sit up in his lap and look down at his red, tear soaked face. His eyes are puffy and his chest is sputtering with sobs.

Both of your hands cup his cheeks and swipe away the tears the same way he did for you only a small bit ago. There’s a sad smile on your face.

“Please don’t apologize, Channie, it’s okay. I forgive you.”

Channie. You called him Channie.

He cries harder and buries his face into your chest. Your arms immediately come around him and keep him there, fingers threading into his hair.

You’re still crying. Both of you are.

“I know you were just doing what you were told to,” you whisper into his hair. He can hear your voice reverberate in your chest.

All he can do is cry.

Months of build up led to this moment. Endless days of going through the motions just for the next to be as dull and tedious led to him falling into you in the middle of a playground at night.

The only thing you do after that is hold him. You press kisses to the top of his head and whisper that you forgive him over and over.

Each one adds a stitch to the wound, shutting it.

You’re finally in his arms. You’re finally back where you belong.

“I missed you,” he says again, his cries dying down. He doesn't know what else to say. There's so much he wants to tell you, but everything dies on the tip of his tongue.

“I missed you too, Channie. My heart missed you so much.”

He sniffles and looks up at you. You pull your sweatshirt sleeve up and wipe away his stray tears gently.

“Every day it just felt like something was missing. It was you. You were missing.”

Chan can’t find any words to say. He just stares at you.

"I don't care how long it takes to remember, or even if I never do. I need you by my side for it, Chan."

His eyes sparkle at you for a moment but he leans up and captures your lips with his once more. It feels even better than the previous one.

The two of you relish in the contact, holding each other close and clinging to the closeness of it all.

It's taking everything within Chan not to start crying again. He's worried than any moment now, he'll wake up and this will all be some cruel dream.

But when you pull away from his lips, and he opens his eyes-- you're still there. You're still in his arms and smiling at him like you always did.

The burn is soothed.

“If you think about it,” you start with a tiny smile. “We’re lucky— in a way.”

His entire face screws up, even more confused. “Lucky?”

“How many people get to say they fell in love with the same person twice?”

Chan blinks twice before it feels like his entire body thaws.

You and your glass half full attitude. He’ll never fucking get enough of it.

His arms wrap around you again, bringing you down into his chest. You let out a breathy giggle

“You’re never leaving my sight,” he breathes out. “Never again, baby, never.”

“I don’t ever want to, Channie. I never will.”

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz x y/n #bang chan #bang chan fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #bangchan fanfic #bangchan x reader

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 1 month

Text

The Widow's Shadow

Natasha Romanoff x Enhanced! Stark!Fem!Reader

Summary: Tony and Pepper adopted you at 13 and now at the age of 18 a beautiful woman named Natalie Rushman walks into your life just as things start to heat up as your powers get displayed for the world to see.

Word Count: 10.5K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, just basic smut nothing crazy. R is innocent and it's her first time, Natasha at times refers to herself as Daddy, mentions of death (a car accident), R is orphaned,

A/N: I spent so long on this. It takes place during Iron Man 2 when Natasha is undercover as Natalie Rushman.

The lights in the room were dim, with only the boxing ring illuminated in the center. The rhythmic thud of gloves against pads filled the air, accompanied by the grunts and shouts of those sparring. Your heart raced as you adjusted the grip on your boxing gloves, the anticipation building up inside you.

Then she walked in.

Natalie Rushman. Or at least, that's the name she gave. With her fiery red hair, confident stride, and those piercing eyes that seemed to look right through you, she was a force to be reckoned with. She exuded an aura of mystery, and you were instantly captivated.

Your attention wavered, and in that split second of distraction, you stumbled. Your fist, meant for Happy, met nothing but air as you lost your balance. The next thing you knew, you were on the ground, your chin throbbing, and the metallic taste of blood in your mouth.

"Damn it," you muttered, spitting out the blood, embarrassment flooding over you.

Before you could gather yourself, Natalie was by your side, a small cloth in hand. The gentle touch of her fingers as she dabbed away the blood sent shivers down your spine. "You should be more careful, cupcake," she said, her voice dripping with concern and a hint of playfulness.

“Cupcake?” your heart fluttered.

"Yes, I'm just clumsy sometimes. Don't worry about me, uh..."

"Natalie. Natalie Rushman," she introduced herself, her lips curling into a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat.

"Thank you, Ms. Rushman," You managed to say, your cheeks burning.

As she was called into the ring by Tony, you made your way over to Pepper, your adoptive mother. Sitting down in front of her, you tried to regain your composure, your mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions.

"What is he doing?" You asked, trying to divert your attention from Natalie's impending spar with Tony.

Pepper sighed, shaking her head. "About to cause us a lawsuit more than likely."

You chuckled, the tension in your chest easing slightly. But as you watched Natalie effortlessly dodge Tony's advances in the ring, a newfound determination took root within you. You needed to know more about her, to unravel the enigma that was Natalie Rushman.

The tension in the room shifted as Tony and Natalie engaged in their intense staring contest. You couldn't help but watch, the air thick with anticipation. After what felt like an eternity, Tony finally broke the silence, stepping out of the ring with a smirk.

"Happy, spar with her," he commanded, leaving Natalie and Happy to face off. You couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and curiosity about this mysterious woman.

As Happy began to give instructions, Natalie's attention turned toward us. "Rule number one, never take your eyes off your oppon—"

Before Happy could finish his sentence, Natalie moved with lightning speed, effortlessly taking him down. It was a display of skill and strength that left you in awe. The intensity of the moment had a certain allure, and you couldn't deny the fascination that welled up inside of you.

However, your admiration was cut short as Pepper freaked out. You could see the concern in her eyes, contrasting sharply with Tony's impressed expression. It was clear that Natalie possessed a level of expertise that few could match.

As Natalie left the training area, Tony, sitting next to Pepper, turned to her with a grin. "I want one," he remarked, referring to Natalie.

Without thinking, you blurted out, "Me too." The room fell silent for a moment, and you became acutely aware of the disapproving glances from your parents—not because Natalie was a woman, but because she was about eight years older than you.

You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. "I mean, I want a trainer like her. Someone who can handle themselves like that." You tried to backpedal, but the amusement in Tony's eyes and the stern look from your mother told you that your slip hadn't gone unnoticed.

Little did they know, Natalie Rushman had already left an indelible mark on you, and the journey into the world of the extraordinary was just beginning.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun bathed the Italian Grand Prix track in warm hues as the three of you strolled into the restaurant for lunch. The aroma of rich Italian cuisine filled the air, creating a backdrop to the high-energy atmosphere of the race.

"Mr. Stark," her voice called out, and your heart skipped a beat. There she was, Natalie Rushman, in a dress that accentuated every curve, giving you a smirk that sent a wave of excitement through you.

"Ms. Stark. Hello, how was your flight?" she greeted, her eyes locked onto you.

"Good, it was excellent," Tony replied before you could get a word in. You fought to conceal the disappointment and joined your parents as they went to grab drinks offered to them.

Natalie took the opportunity to brief Tony about someone wanting photos of you three. You found yourself pulled between your parents for the impromptu photo session, the camera flashes blinding you momentarily. As the bickering unfolded behind you, you tried to maintain a composed façade.

"Stark, you're a magnet for trouble," Natalie quipped, her gaze never leaving Tony.

"Yeah, but I love it," Tony retorted with his signature smirk.

While your adoptive parents argued about the unexpected presence of Natalie, it became apparent that Pepper was just as surprised as you were to see her here. The tension in the air was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that Natalie Rushman was intricately woven into the fabric of your lives, bringing a mix of excitement and unpredictability. Little did you know, this encounter in Italy was just the beginning of a series of events.

The atmosphere in the restaurant was electric, filled with the buzz of conversation and the clinking of glasses. As you settled into the corner table, Tony's casual request for the specific seating sent Natalie off to make the arrangements. You couldn't help but watch her go, your eyes tracing the graceful sway of her hips with a sense of admiration.

'Damn, she's beautiful,' You thought, feeling a warmth spread through you. The age gap that had seemed so significant earlier now felt inconsequential.

You were lost in your thoughts when you felt Pepper's gaze on you. "Did you know about this?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"No ma'am, Dad didn't tell me anything about this," You replied honestly, your eyes still lingering on Natalie.

Caught up in the moment, you decided to shed your jacket, feeling the confines of the suit weigh heavily on you. Beneath it, your black vest and light blue button-up felt more comfortable, hugging your frame just right. You rolled up your sleeves to your elbows, revealing the tattoos that adorned your arms.

You couldn't help but notice Natalie's subtle glances in your direction as you settled back into your chair, your posture relaxed yet confident. Resting your elbows on the table, you clasped your hands together, the pose unintentionally showcasing your tattoos and muscles.

You glanced over your shoulder, catching Natalie's eye. This time, it was her turn to look away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. The playful exchange sent a thrill through you, and you couldn't help but smile.

The restaurant's ambiance was suddenly punctuated by a sense of urgency as Pepper scanned the room, her eyes widening in disbelief as she spotted the TV screen. Following her gaze, you saw what had caught her attention—a news report showing Tony getting into some sort of altercation.

"Uhhh, Mom..." You hesitated, pointing to the screen, your voice tinged with concern.

"Oh, you've gotta be..." Pepper's voice trailed off, her worry evident. "Where is Happy? Natalie?" she muttered, scanning the room once more.

You shrugged, feeling a sense of unease settle over you. "I'll go check, see if I can find them. If not, I'll go stop him myself," You offered, determined to help.

Pepper's warning glare stopped you in your tracks. "No use of your powers in public," she whispered through clenched teeth, her concern for your secret identity overriding any immediate action. “I have enough going on with your father right now Y/N/N.”

You rolled your eyes, frustration bubbling up inside you. Shoving your hands into your pockets, you sighed, "Yeah, yeah... I know, Mom." The weight of your powers felt like a burden in that moment, the desire to help conflicting with the need for secrecy.

Walking away, you couldn't help but dwell on the constraints that held you back. You had this incredible power at your fingertips, yet you were forbidden from using it when it mattered most. The internal struggle was real, and you grappled with the complexities of your identity, torn between the desire to do good and the necessity of maintaining your carefully guarded secret.

The urgency of the situation propelled you to take action. Without wasting any words, you found Natalie just around the corner and swiftly grabbed her wrist. She reacted defensively, ready to strike, but you caught her fist with your own, feeling the subtle itch of your tattoos, a primal instinct to protect yourself kicking in.

"Just me. We have a situation," you stated firmly, guiding her back toward Pepper.

As we approached Pepper, Natalie's attention shifted to the TV screens displaying Tony's predicament. Pepper wasted no time in questioning Natalie's knowledge of the situation. "Did you know about this?" she asked, her tone demanding answers.

Natalie looked up at one of the TVs, a nervous energy radiating from her as she wiped her hands on her dress. "No, this is the first I'm hearing of this," she assured Pepper.

Concern etched on her face, Pepper inquired about Happy's whereabouts. "Where's Happy?" she pressed.

"He's waiting just outside," Natalie responded promptly. "Go get him. I need him."

Natalie rushed off to retrieve Happy, leaving you standing there, eyes fixed on the screens. "What are you doing, Dad?" You muttered, your left arm itching, a physical manifestation of the unease and frustration building within you. The unpredictability of your lives was becoming increasingly apparent, and you couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of the challenges that lay ahead.

"Y/N. Go, now. We'll meet you there." The urgency in Pepper's voice snapped you into action. Without hesitation, you sprinted toward the race track, your focus razor-sharp as you navigated through the crowd. As you passed Happy and Natalie, you shouted over the noise, "I'll meet you down there! Get to the car with Mom!"

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you approached the unfolding situation. Every second counted, and you couldn't afford to waste any time. The man on the track posed a potential threat, and you needed to intervene before things escalated further.

As you reached the edge of the track, you assessed the situation, formulating a plan of action. The safety of the racers and spectators was paramount, and you braced yourself for whatever challenges lay ahead.

The air crackled with electricity as the man on the track wielded his arch reactor-powered tendrils with lethal precision, slicing through the race cars as if they were mere toys. Your heart pounded in your chest as Tony's car took the hit, flipping over in a terrifying display of destruction.

"DAD!" Your scream echoed across the track, the fear and urgency evident in your voice. Without a second thought, you vaulted over the fence, your tattoos coming to life, swirling patterns of black smoke enveloping the two of you as you helped Tony out of the wreckage.

"Dad, are you okay?" You asked, your voice trembling with concern.

Tony's resolve hardened as he steadied himself, his gaze locked on the mysterious man. "Yes, Y/N/N, I'm fine. We need to stop him. This isn't how I wanted your debut to be, but it looks like it's time. I'm going to get behind him and try to knock him out," he declared, determination burning in his eyes.

You nodded, the gravity of the situation sinking in. As the smoke began to dissipate, you positioned yourself as the distraction, ready to confront the man and protect your family. The tendrils lashed out at you, crackling with energy, but your tattoos responded instinctively, deflecting each strike with calculated precision.

The standoff intensified, the track becoming a battleground as we clashed with an unknown adversary. But amidst the chaos, a newfound sense of purpose surged within you. You were ready to embrace your powers, to stand alongside your father and defend your legacy against those who sought to harm you.

The screeching of tires and the roar of the engine filled the air as the car skidded to a halt, Happy and Pepper finally arriving on the scene. The sight of the man slamming into the fence was a welcome relief, albeit a brief one.

"Get in the car, now!" Pepper's voice cut through the chaos, her urgency driving you into action. You didn't hesitate, quickly climbing into the car as Tony and the man continued their struggle.

The tension inside the car was palpable, Tony's stubbornness clashing with the immediate need for safety. The man's relentless pursuit of the Ironman suitcase added another layer of danger, and you knew you had to intervene.

Seizing the moment, you grabbed the suitcase and hurled it out of the car, clearing the way for Tony to finally subdue the man in a climactic showdown. The sense of relief was overwhelming as the police arrived, taking the man into custody and securing the arch reactor.

As the adrenaline wore off, Pepper's concern shifted to you, her hands checking for any sign of injury. "Are you hurt, Y/N/N? Does it hurt anywhere? Are you okay?" she asked repeatedly, her voice filled with worry.

You tried to reassure her, but the repetitive questions only intensified the throbbing in your head. "Mom, I'm fine, really," you said, doing your best to quell her concerns.

The atmosphere in the penthouse suite was thick with tension and emotion as Pepper and you returned from the chaotic events at the race track. The concern in Natalie's eyes was evident as she greeted you, her hands gently resting on your arms as she assessed your well-being.

"You aren't hurt, right?" Her voice was filled with genuine concern, sending a wave of warmth through you. She cared, and that realization was both comforting and exhilarating.

"I'm fine, but thank you. I just need some Tylenol and a hot shower," you replied, trying to mask the lingering adrenaline and fatigue.

"I'll get both ready for you, Ms. Stark," Natalie offered, her voice soft yet reassuring.

Retreating to your room, you collapsed onto the bed, the events of the day weighing heavily on your mind. Your tattoos continued to shift across your skin, a visual reminder of the power and responsibility that came with your abilities.

Lost in thought, you were caught off guard when Natalie suddenly appeared beside you, her proximity sending your heart racing. Your eyes locked, and you found yourself mesmerized by the intensity of her gaze.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Her whisper was barely audible, the concern evident in her eyes.

Caught up in the moment, you found yourself flirting with the boundaries of your relationship. "I mean...my lips kind of hurt...maybe you could kiss them better," You teased, throwing caution to the wind.

For a moment, Natalie looked taken aback, the implications of kissing Tony Stark's daughter weighing heavily on her mind. But the pull between you two was undeniable, and she leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a soft, electrifying kiss.

The world seemed to fade away as the two of you lost yourselves in the moment, the electricity between you igniting a spark that neither of you could deny. In that instant, you realized that your feelings for Natalie ran deeper than you had ever imagined, and you couldn't help but wonder what the future held for the two of you.

But for now, in this fleeting moment, you were content to savor the warmth of her embrace, the promise of what lay ahead lingering in the air as your lips met once again in a passionate kiss.

"My parents will kill both of us if they find out about that." You say sitting up. The post-adrenaline haze hung in the air as you sat up, the realization of the impulsive kiss sinking in. As you took the pills and downed the glass of water Natalie brought you, she playfully remarked, "Good girl." A shiver ran down your spine at her words, a mixture of surprise and amusement at the unexpected response to a simple act.

"I'll keep that reaction in mind for later, but for now, your shower is waiting for you. I'd join you, Ms. Stark, but I think they'd realize I was gone," Natalie whispered with a mischievous smile.

"Y/N. You can just call me Y/N or Y/N/N," you corrected, scratching your arm as a small smile played on your lips.

"Okay, Y/N/N, well, enjoy your shower and try not to think about me too much," Natalie teased, purposefully bending forward as she got up. The suggestive move caught you off guard, and you felt a sudden wetness between your thighs, a heat rising within you.

You stormed off toward the shower, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The day had taken unexpected turns, and Natalie's playful banter only added to the complexity of the situation. As you stepped into the shower, the warm water enveloping you, you couldn't shake the lingering sensations from your encounter.

The atmosphere inside the plane was heavy with tension, the hum of the engines providing a constant backdrop to the somber mood. The news reports filled the cabin, discussing the events at the race track and speculating about Tony's actions and the existence of your powers.

"Child with toys," you grumbled, rolling your eyes at the dismissive tone of the reporters. The urge to defend your father and your family's legacy was strong, but you bit your tongue, choosing to retreat into your music instead.

Inserting your earbuds and selecting a playlist on your iPod, you closed your eyes and let the music wash over you. The familiar melodies provided a welcome escape, transporting you back to the intimate moment you shared with Natalie, the soft touch of her lips still lingering on yours.

Lost in thought, you found yourself yearning for the comfort and excitement of that stolen moment, a brief respite from the chaos and scrutiny that surrounded your lives. The complexity of your feelings for Natalie weighed on your mind, the unexpected connection leaving you yearning for more.

As the plane soared through the night sky, you allowed yourself to drift, the memories of your kiss and the promise of what lay ahead providing a glimmer of hope and excitement amidst the uncertainty of your lives.

The tension in the living room was palpable as Pepper and Natalie juggled their respective phone calls, their voices filled with a sense of urgency and concern. The events of the past few days had taken a toll on all of you, and the need for damage control was evident.

Rhodey's unexpected arrival added another layer of complexity to the situation, his stern demeanor contrasting with the chaos unfolding around you. Natalie's attempt to keep him away was met with a united front from Pepper and you, your synchronized response catching her off guard.

As Natalie's eyes narrowed and she mouthed a warning, you couldn't help but smirk, a chuckle escaping your lips as you shook your head in amusement. The playful exchange only heightened the tension between you, the unspoken connection growing stronger with each passing moment.

Walking on thin ice had never been so exhilarating, and you found yourself eagerly anticipating the moment when it would finally break, allowing you two to explore the depth of your feelings and the possibilities that lay ahead.

The anticipation for Tony's birthday party filled the air as you got ready in your room. Opting for an edgy yet stylish look, you adorned yourself in an asymmetrical black techwear skirt, a matching crop top, and thigh-high stockings with garter belts. Chunky Doc Martens completed the ensemble, and you threw up your Y/H/C up into a slightly messy bun. Dark makeup accentuated the tattoos that adorned your legs and covered your body.

Lost in your reflection, you didn't hear the door open and close. Only when Natalie appeared behind you, her arm snaking around your waist, did you realize you weren't alone. Her proximity sent a shiver down your spine as she whispered in your ear, "Who knew you could pull off suits and pretty skirts, cupcake."

A playful comment lingered in the air as you met her gaze through the mirror. Your breath caught when she continued, "I could just eat you out...I mean up." A suggestive bite of her lip followed, and your cheeks flushed with heat.

Her promise for later hung in the air, leaving you at a loss for words. "Once I get your dad all ready for his party, I'll come find you so we can have some fun of our own, okay, cupcake?" You could only nod, words escaping you in the face of the unexpected intensity of your exchange.

"Words, cupcake," she purred, her hand grazing your ass and squeezing slightly as she kissed your cheek. A shaky breath left you as you managed to stammer, "Y-yes, Natalie."

She smirked, letting her presence linger before sauntering off. You watched her leave in yet another alluring dress, feeling a magnetic pull as desire surged through you.

The pulsating beat from the party below seemed distant as you found myself alone with Natalie in your room. The bottle of vodka in your hand was both a comfort and a reminder of the chaos surrounding you. The weight of the world's scrutiny, the questions about your abilities, and the expectations tied to your identity as Tony Stark's daughter pressed down on you.

Natalie's sudden presence broke through your thoughts, her voice drawing you back to the present. "Hmmm last I checked you aren't 21, Ms. Stark," she remarked, her eyes locked onto yours. You took notice that she had changed since earlier now wearing a cheetah print slip dress.

Caught off guard, you tried to justify your actions. "Look, it's been a week, you know this. I just need to not think about everything for a bit, okay?" Your voice was tinged with frustration and vulnerability, the raw emotions bubbling to the surface.

Natalie's raised eyebrow and confident stride toward you sent a jolt of electricity through the air. Placing the bottle down, she closed the distance between you, her hands resting on your hips as she leaned in, her voice husky and seductive. "Well, if you don't want to not think for a bit...I could certainly help you with that. I am your assistant, after all."

The subtle shift in her voice, the hint of an accent, and the intoxicating proximity sent your heart racing. The line between assistant and lovers blurred, leaving you breathless and longing for more.

"No, you're my parents' assistant," you countered, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But Natalie's words and actions had already ignited a fire within you, the tension between you was palpable.

Her response, dripping with desire and intensity, pulled you in further, your resolve crumbling with each passing second. "You're their precious daughter, how could I not take care of you?" The closeness of your bodies, the warmth radiating between the two of you, elicited a soft moan from your lips, your voice betraying the desire coursing through me.

"Natalie..." you whispered, your voice filled with longing and anticipation, the promise of what lay ahead leaving you eager and breathless as your worlds collided, opening the door to a connection neither of you could deny.

The world seemed to fade away as your lips met, the intensity of your connection deepening with each passing second. Natalie's hand found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss grew more passionate. Your hands instinctively cupped her cheeks, your bodies moving in perfect harmony as desire took hold.

The sensation was electrifying, every touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Before you knew it, the two of you were tumbling onto the bed, your bodies entwined as the passion between you intensified. The softness of the sheets beneath you, the warmth of her body pressed against yours, all added to the overwhelming sensation of being lost in the moment.

When your lips finally parted, the look of surprise in Natalie's eyes mirrored your own feelings. But before you could react, she flipped you, her strength and confidence evident as she pinned you against the bed. The feeling of her thigh pressing between your legs sent a shiver down your spine, a gasp escaping your lips as pleasure surged through you.

Your eyes locked, the intensity of the moment leaving you both breathless and eager for more. Her husky voice and commanding words spurred you on, igniting a fire within you that you never knew existed.

"Move your hips, cupcake. Ride my thigh," she whispered, her lips finding yours once again in a passionate kiss.

The encouragement and guidance from Natalie gave you the confidence to explore new sensations, your body instinctively responding to her touch. As you began to move your hips, the pleasure intensified, a soft moan escaping your lips as the rhythm between you grew more intense.

The experience was exhilarating, the connection between you deepening as the two of you explored new levels of intimacy. Despite your lack of experience, Natalie's guidance and the undeniable chemistry between you allowed you to lose yourself in the moment, embracing the pleasure and excitement of the unknown.

Every touch, every kiss was a testament to the passion and desire that had been simmering beneath the surface, now fully unleashed as the two of you surrendered to the intensity of your connection. Lost in a world of pleasure and longing, you allowed yourself to be guided by Natalie, trusting her to lead you on a journey of discovery and fulfillment.

The intensity of the moment reached its peak as Natalie's words and actions drove you closer to the edge. The sensation of her hands on your hips, guiding and encouraging you, sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, each touch amplifying the ecstasy that was building within you.

"I'm so glad you wore this skirt; it's so much easier to play with you," she murmured, her voice filled with desire and anticipation.

Her words, combined with the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving together, pushed you closer to the brink. The feeling of being on the edge, teetering between pleasure and release, was exhilarating, and you found yourself whining in desperation, craving the release that was within reach.

"N-Nat..." you moaned, your voice filled with longing and need.

"Go on, cupcake, cum for me," she whispered seductively, her eyes locked onto yours as she urged you to let go.

The intensity of her gaze, the warmth of her touch, and the intoxicating rhythm drove you over the edge, your body trembling with pleasure as waves of ecstasy washed over you. Your tattoos seemed to come alive, moving across your body in sync with the waves of pleasure, a visual testament to the intensity of the experience.

"That's my good girl. Just like that...ride it out, baby girl," Natalie whispered, her voice filled with pride and satisfaction.

You opened your eyes, the world coming back into focus as you met Natalie's gaze. Her pupils were blown, the green barely visible as desire and satisfaction radiated from her. You could only imagine that your own eyes mirrored hers, the connection between you deepening as you shared a moment of pure ecstasy and intimacy, lost in the intensity of your connection.

The sudden interruption jolted you back to reality, the remnants of your intimate moment with Natalie quickly fading as the house shook with the force of the impact. Instinctively, you both ran towards the main floor, your concern growing as you heard Pepper's voice.

"Natalie!" Pepper's voice echoed through the chaos, her tone filled with urgency and concern.

"Mrs. Potts," Natalie responded promptly, her professional demeanor coming to the forefront.

The tension in the room was palpable, Pepper's eyes narrowing as she looked from Natalie to you, her concern evident. Before she could say more, the floor erupted beneath us, Tony and Rhodey crashing through in a display of raw power and conflict.

"Go!" you urged Natalie and Pepper, your tattoos coming to life as you stepped forward, ready to intervene.

The look of concern in Natalie's eyes tugged at your heart, but you reassured her, "Go...I'll be fine." With that, they retreated, Happy guiding Pepper away while Natalie disappeared in another direction.

"Stop fighting, you two! I will separate you!" You called out, your shadowy tendrils extending from your body, ready to intervene.

"Don't get involved, Y/N/N. This is between your father and me," Rhodey warned, his voice filled with determination and resolve. As he was don in the War Machine suit.

Despite his words, you couldn't stand by and watch as the two men you cared about most clashed in a battle that threatened to tear them apart. The power surging through you, the determination to protect and intervene, drove you forward as you stepped between them, ready to do whatever it took to stop the fighting and restore peace.

The adrenaline coursing through your veins began to wane as the immediate threat subsided. Exhausted, you released your grip on Tony, your muscles aching from the effort it took to restrain him. His intoxicated state only added to my frustration and concern, the gravity of his actions weighing heavily on you.

"What the hell was that, Dad!?" You shouted, your voice filled with anger and disbelief.

But Tony was lost in a drunken haze, his words slurred and unintelligible as he mumbled to himself. The reality of the situation hit you hard, the realization that his actions had not only put himself at risk but also jeopardized the safety and well-being of everyone around him.

"You ruined my night..." you muttered, the disappointment and frustration evident in your voice.

Thoughts of Natalie filled your mind, the connection you had shared was overshadowed by the chaos and conflict that had erupted. The uncertainty of whether you would see her again weighed heavily on you, the hope of exploring your newfound connection clouded by the events that had transpired.

The morning brought a new day, but the lingering tension from the events of the previous night weighed heavily on you. Tony, still in his suit, took you to a breakfast spot for some donuts, attempting to break the silence and ease the tension that hung between you.

"You really messed up last night," you stated bluntly, taking a bite of your bear claw.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up and eat your breakfast," he retorted, a hint of regret in his tone.

As the two of you enjoyed your breakfast on the rooftop, Nick Fury approached, interrupting your moment of relative peace. You used your smoky tendrils to descend slowly, greeting Fury with a smile.

"Fury," you acknowledged, the familiarity in your interactions a contrast to the strain in your relationship with your father.

"Little Stark," Fury replied, a smile crossing his face as he hugged you. Tony eventually joined you, and the three of you headed inside to continue your conversation.

Sitting in a booth with your father and Fury on the opposite side, you were taken aback when Natalie appeared, clad in a skin-tight black bodysuit. Your mouth fell open as she smiled at you. The unexpected presence of someone you thought you might not see again left you momentarily speechless.

"We've secured the perimeter, but I don't think we can handle it much longer," she reported to Fury.

"Huh...you're fired," Tony declared, a hurt expression crossing your face.

"Oh, that's not up to you," Natalie retorted, her words cutting through the tension.

"Tony, little Stark, I'd like you to meet Agent Romanoff," Fury introduced.

"I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D shadow. Once we knew you were ill, I was tasked to you by Director Fury. Finding out you had powers was just icing on the cake," Natalie explained, her gaze lingering on you.

The revelation about Natalie's true role left you unsettled. As you looked away, a sense of dissociation washed over you—a defense mechanism you hadn't employed in a long time. The complexities of your newfound powers and the tangled web of relationships and secrets threatened to pull you further into the abyss, leaving you grappling with the uncertain path that lay ahead.

The weight of the recent events and the complexities of your relationships left you feeling isolated and overwhelmed. Holed up in your room, a wave of depression washed over you, casting a shadow over everything. A knock at the door interrupted your solitude, but you didn't feel like engaging with anyone. Despite your lack of response, the door opened.

"Go away, Dad. I don't want to talk," you called out, assuming it was Tony attempting to breach the walls of your solitude.

"Oh, I'm not your dad, unless that's something you're into," Natalie's voice cut through the air. The unexpectedness of her presence caused you to shoot up, facing her as she stood just past your door.

"What do you want?" you asked coldly, your guard up as you braced for whatever conversation or confrontation might follow. The uncertainty of where you stood and the weight of your emotions made it difficult to predict the nature of your interaction.

"I want to talk if you'll let me," Natalie's voice was soft, but the weight of her words hung heavily in the air.

"Why should I? Everything I know about you is a lie, Natalie! Oh wait, that isn't even your name!" Your voice trembled with anger and hurt, the betrayal you felt evident in every word. "I gave myself to you. You were my first, and it was all a lie!" Tears welled in your eyes, the pain of the deception cutting deep.

As Natalie stepped closer, you felt a surge of emotions, your tattoos reacting to your heightened state. "Don't," you warned, the tendrils of smoke-like energy emanating from your skin, ready to defend and protect.

"You wouldn't," she challenged, closing the distance between us despite your warning.

"I said don't." Your voice was firm, the energy around you intensifying as you braced for a confrontation.

But instead of a clash, Natalie's arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug as you broke down. Your knees buckled beneath you, and you clung to her tightly, the weight of your emotions overwhelming. Smoke from your tattoos clouded around the two of you, a physical manifestation to how clouded your mind felt.

"You lied...you lied to me..." you sobbed, your fists weakly pounding against her as the tears flowed freely.

She held you close, waiting patiently for the storm of emotions to pass, her presence a source of comfort amidst the chaos of your feelings. The pain of the betrayal lingered, but in that moment, the connection between you offered a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty and pain.

"I had to, and I know you have no reason to trust me, but I'm going to tell you something, something no one else knows about me. Can you look at me, Y/N/N?" Natasha urged, her voice filled with a vulnerability you had never heard from her before. Gently, she tilted your chin upwards, her eyes searching yours as she saw the hurt reflected in them.

"You're right, my name isn't Natalie. I go by Natasha now, but my real name, not a spy name or anything like that. The one on my original birth certificate is Natalia," she confessed, her voice soft and sincere. "Though I change names around, I've always been..."

"Nat?" You interrupted, the realization dawning on you.

She was caught off guard but smiled warmly, "Yeah, always, cupcake."

You searched her eyes, looking for any sign of deception, any hint that this was another lie. But all you found was sincerity and a depth of emotion that mirrored your own. The journey to rebuild trust would be a long one, but in that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope.

"It's going to take time for me to fully trust anything you say, but for now...please just...stay with me," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion as you clung to her tightly.

"Whatever you need, cupcake," Natasha replied, her voice filled with determination and resolve. Slowly the smoke dissipated around you, your mind clearing up.

Leaning up, you captured her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, the connection between you reigniting as you slowly explored the depths of your feelings. Despite the challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead, the bond between you remained unbroken, a testament to the strength of your connection and the hope for a future built on trust and understanding.

The atmosphere in the lab was thick with anticipation and nostalgia as Tony and yourself delved into the trunk of his father's belongings. The weight of the legacy left behind by his father loomed large, the contents of the trunk a tangible link to the past and the future.

"So this is all the stuff Grandpa left for you," you remarked, sorting through the items before handing a blueprint of the arc reactor to Tony. His fingers traced the lines and annotations, a sense of reverence in his touch as he studied the intricate design.

Setting the blueprint aside, Tony began to sift through his father's old journal, his eyes scanning the pages filled with calculations and theories. The depth of knowledge contained within the pages was staggering, a testament to his father's genius and the groundbreaking work he had undertaken.

"Hey, Dad, there are some reels of film. We should watch them," you suggested, your curiosity piqued as you handed the reels to Tony.

Nodding in agreement, Tony set up the projector, the soft whir of the film reels filling the room. As the images flickered to life, we were greeted by the familiar face of his father, his voice echoing through the years as he spoke passionately about the arc reactor and its potential to change the world.

As the film played on, revealing insights and revelations about the arc reactor's design and functionality, Tony and you were drawn deeper into the legacy that had shaped his family's destiny. The blend of past and present, the convergence of old knowledge and new possibilities, served as a poignant reminder of the responsibility you carried and the legacy you hoped to uphold.

Together, you continued to explore the contents of the trunk, each item a piece of the puzzle, each revelation a step closer to unlocking the mysteries of the arc reactor and fulfilling Tony's quest to perfect it for his own life force and well-being. The journey ahead was filled with challenges and uncertainties, but in that moment, you were united in your determination to honor the legacy of the past and forge a path forward into the future.

As the film continued to play, a poignant moment unfolded as Tony's father addressed him directly. The atmosphere in the lab grew still, the weight of the words hanging in the air as his father spoke with a sense of purpose and conviction.

"I built all of this for you, Tony," his father's voice echoed through the years, a heartfelt message from the past. "Someday, you'll understand it all and be able to pick up where I left off."

The sincerity in his father's words resonated deeply, the realization dawning on Tony that he was part of something far greater than himself, a legacy that spanned generations. The mention of his father, limited by the resources available to him at the time, added another layer of complexity to the narrative, highlighting the sacrifices and challenges faced by those who had come before him.

As the film continued, revealing more insights and revelations about the arc reactor's design and functionality, Tony was faced with the daunting task of carrying forward the legacy entrusted to him. The responsibility weighed heavily on him, but the belief and confidence his father had placed in him served as a source of inspiration and motivation.

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“It was an illegal seizure of trademark property.” Your mother spoke on the phone as you lounged on the couch in her office, the news once again playing on about Iron Man and talking about you. How young you are and how reckless it is of your adoptive father to allow you to use these enhanced powers. A scoff rolls off your tongue as if he truly had any control over you. You had mostly stopped paying attention to the droning anchorman when two words slipped out of a small girls mouth who was being interviewed.

“When I grow up I wanna be just like the Shadow Queen!” You shot up straight, watching the television and ignoring the fact that your father just walked in carrying the one thing your mom is allergic too.

“Did you guys hear that!?” You asked excitedly calling over the couch that you now perched backwards on and interrupting the conversation they were having. Both looked at you and then the news on TV which now had the headline ‘Shadow Queen: Is This Child Endangerment?’ Pepper let out an exasperated sigh and Tony smiled.

“You are not pulling anymore stunts. Natalie and I are still trying to do damage control.” Pepper spoke and you could hear how over the topic she’d become ever since Italy. You deflated a bit back into the couch until Natasha walked in. Her eyes flicked to you a smirk on her face as she walked up to Pepper.

“Wheels up in 25 minutes. Will Ms. Stark be joining us?” Natasha asked and you smiled.

“Yes she will be.” You answered, jumping the couch. “Oh and Natalie dear can you get me a meeting with the press? I’d like to make an official statement as Shadow Queen.” Both Pepper and Natasha looked at you.

“Absolutely not.” Pepper spoke.

“Sorry mom. I need to do this. I know you and dad both think I’m a kid still. I’m not. I’m not the same girl dad found. I’m an adult now. I’ve watched both of you for so long now and I need to do this for myself. I need the world to know who I am.” You look from your mom to Natasha who doesn’t offer any guidance as your eyes wander back to your mom who lets out a sigh.

“If it’s not your dad it’s you causing me a headache.” She was rubbing her temples. “Just go get ready for the flight. Wear something nice.”

“Do you need anything else boss?” You heard Happy call and when both Pepper and Tony tried to answer, Tony looked around the room at the three of you.

“Oh I see I lost all the kids in the divorce.” He laughs, but Natasha stays focused on Pepper and you stay focused on Natasha. You see Happy shake his head in your peripheral. “No.” Natasha’s focus moved from Pepper to out the floor to ceiling windows of the office before her eyes flickered back to you. Her expression unchanging. Tony cleared his throat, catching your attention. “Are you blending in well here, Natalie? Here at Stark Enterprises?” Is he serious right now? You think to yourself as his tone shifts. At the mention of her name Natasha turns her head towards Tony. Her head tilting down ever so slightly as if to say stop, but Tony being who he is continues. “Your name is Natalie, isn’t it?”

“Dad.” You catch all three of their attention. “Did you hit your head or something?” You ask sticking your hands in your pockets. “Her name hasn’t changed since we met her. Natalie. Natalie Rushman. Remember?” You tilt your head to the side almost as a little warning. Your tattoos shifting ever so slightly that catches Tony’s attention.

Pepper got up while the two of you talked, taking with her the papers she had just signed. “Y/N/N, hurry up. Go change I’ll meet you and Natalie on the plane.” You smiled at your mother as she left the room. Natasha began to clean up her desk waiting for Pepper to be gone before speaking,

“I’m surprised you can keep your mouth shut.” There was a bite to her voice that made you shiver and smile.

“Boy, you’re good. You are mind-blowingly duplicitous. How do you do it? You just tear things....You’re a triple imposter. I’ve never seen anything like you. Is there anything real about you? Do you even speak Latin?” Tony rambled and as Natasha started to leave, following behind you she spoke out in Latin,

“Which means? Wait. What? What did you just say?” Tony asked spinning around in his chair as you wait by the door for Natasha who spun around on her heels to answer him.

“It means I’m fucking your daughter.” She turned back and grabbed your wrist as the two of you left, your mind sputtering.

“What the hell Nat!?” You finally managed out as the two of you stopped at your room to change. An outfit already picked out by Natasha you assumed.

“You think that he’ll actually take that to heart? He called me a triple agent and asked if anything about me is real.” You went to say something, but she stopped you with a kiss. “Shhh cupcake. Get dressed in the outfit I picked.” Her breath hot against your lips and no matter how much you wanted to fight it. That wouldn’t happen as she helped get you undressed.

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You, Pepper, Happy, and Natasha arrive at the Expo. It’s all too loud and noisy for your liking, but you stick close to Natasha. You brush your arms together every so often and a gentle squeeze here and there from her when she can tell you’re getting too tense.

Your tattoos have ben shifting all night. Something wasn’t right and you make mention of it to Natasha when she asks what’s wrong. The markings adorning your body shifting along and Natasha who was already keeping a close eye on things seems to double down.

The three of you sat in the audience watching as Justin Hammer revealed his latest ‘invention’ which was just a rip of of the Iron Man suit making your blood boil and your tattoos itch as they crawled around your skin. You had begun itching at your arms until Natasha’s hand found yours. Your fingers intertwining with hers as she she your hands down on your lap. Keeping her eyes on the stage. You looked at her and then your eyes flicked to Pepper who was too wrapped up in the blatant rip off of Tony’s suit.

Everyone around the three of you clapping as he showed off each set in a different style for each branch of the military. “That’s a hell of a lot better than some cheerleader, let me tell you. But as revolutionary as this technology is, there will always be a need for man to be present in the theater of war.” You roll your eyes knowing just how badly things could go if they start adding anything remotely close to robotic tech like this into the mix of war. It should be nowhere near the battlefield, but idiots like Justin don’t know and don’t care about things like that when money is involved. “Ladies and gentlemen, today I am proud to present to you the very first prototype in the Variable Threat Response Battle Suit and its pilot, Air Force Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes.” As Justin stepped back leaving both Pepper and yourself in shock two quiet “What!?” came out of your mouths.

Rhodey was slowly lifted up in the Mark II suit he had taken a few days prior. You grit your teeth at the man who you practically considered an uncle turning against your father. As Rhodey came into full view you could tell modifications had been made to the suit and it looked a bit bulkier all around with a gun coming off the right shoulder. “For America and its allies, Hammer Industries is reporting for...” Justin didn’t get to finish his sentence as a rumbling started to approach catching everyone’s attention.

You knew what it was as soon as it came into view, your dad, in his suit. Coming right up and touching down in front of Rhodey. You stood up, un able to sit any longer, but you felt the tug back from Natasha. You looked back at her and exchanged looks for a moment before she slowly let your hand go after giving it a tight squeeze.

Everyone was standing up to clap so luckily it went mostly unnoticed until your tattoos moved off your skin pushing you up and landing you just behind your dad. He turned only slightly, but gave no other acknowledgement.

“We got trouble.” Tony stated walking towards Rhodey.

“Tony, Y/N/N there are civilians present.” Rhodey mentioned and you looked behind and back at him like, ‘yeah I know’. “I’m here on orders. Let’s not do this right now.”

“Give them a wave.” You heard Tony state as you walked up to the two men. You turned around giving a smile and two peace signs, letting your tattoos slowly dance around you.

“Hey, all right! Yeah!” Justin pushed past you trying to recapture the audience attention.

“All these people are in danger.” You heard Tony speak, but didn’t react as you were still looking at the crowd. “We gotta get em outta here. You gotta trust me for the next five minutes.”

“Yeah, I tried that. I got tossed around your house, remember?” Rhodey reminds and you turn to the two men finally.

“Listen I think he’s working with Vanko.”

“Vanko is alive?” Rhodey asked and you were questioning the same thing. Tony moved you back to just behind Rhodey as he stepped up to Justin.

“Where is he?” Tony asked Justin.

“What?”

“Where’s Vanko?”

“Who?”

“Tell me.”

“What are you doing here, man?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Rhodey spoke.

“What? What is it?” You ask looking up at Rhodey. Suddenly the gun on his shoulder is pointed at Tony along with the civilians. Your mind races knowing Pepper and Natasha are there too.

“Is that you!?” Tony asks in a panic.

“No, I’m not doing that. That’s not me. I can’t move. I’m locked up. I’m locked up.” Rhodes was panicing as the robots behind you also started to move.

“Dad. I’ve got this.” You called out moving just behind Rhodey. “Help Rhodey.” Almost all the tattoos came off your skin, acting as a barrier to stop the the robots from hurting anyone as they started to fire. Though you felt the hits through the markings you stood tall. As your dad and Rhodey took off into the sky so did the robots. Leaving you there.

“Fuck not being able to fly.” You grumbled, but your tattoos moved instinctively to protect the civilians from the falling glass. You coughed up blood from all the gunshots and glass. Trying to look over the crowd for your mother and Natasha. Finally finding them and moving yourself to them.

Your tattoos came back into you. Your skin feeling like it was on fire as you came up behind Natasha. She grabbed onto when you fell against her.

“You did a good job cupcake take a break. Daddy’s gotta take care of something.” You looked up at her in confusion before she arm barred Justin into the table. “You tell me who’s behind this. Who’s behind this?” Natasha practically growled and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.

“Ivan. Ivan Vanko.” Justin groaned.

“Where is he?” She asked, tightening her hold.

“He’s at my facility.” As soon as she had the information she let go. Walking away from Pepper and you followed close behind.

“Don’t follow cupcake.” Her voice was stern, but you weren’t about to listen.

“I’m coming with you. I took this guy on once before. I’m coming with you and I’m helping.” Natasha stopped turning on her heels. She looked down at you. Her face was harsh and took your breath away, but you didn’t back down.

“I can’t loose you.” Natasha’s voice was flat.

“And I can’t loose you. So either we go together or I hold you here with me.” She raised an eyebrow in a challenge before turning once more and continuing on.

The two of you made your way outside, Happy caught your eye in the crowd of people trying to escape. “Nobody’s answering the phone. What’s going on?” He asked quickly.

“Get in the car. You’re taking us to Hammer industries.” Natasha called out and Happy looked to you for confirmation. You gave him a nod as Natasha got in the back seat, you climbing in passenger.

Happy drove frantically after you had gotten out of the crowd. Luckily because of the Expo and the time of night the streets were rather clear.

“When we arrive, I need you to watch the perimeter, Happy.” You looked back at Natasha, watching as she took her hair down. “I’m gonna enter the facility and take down the target.” Natasha started undressing and you looked away, a blush covering your cheeks as you noticed Happy looking. He started swerving and your tattoos moved up blocking the view as your girlfriend changed. You exchanged a look with Happy before his eyes returned to the road.

“Go ahead Nat. You’re good.” You called out to which you got a ‘Thanks cupcake.’ in return as another look with Happy is exchanged. “I’ll explain when half of New York isn’t in danger, okay?”

When we pull up to the building Nat has changed herself into that skin tight one piece she had on when you found out her true identity. If half of New York weren’t in danger you’d probably take her-

“Stay in the car Happy.” Nat called out as the two of you got out.

“I’m not staying in the car.” Happy called back.

“I said stay in the car.”

“What are you wearing?” Happy asked.

“Don’t ask. Just stay here Happy. Nat and I got this.” The two of us slipped inside. Working out a small plan before actually starting to attack anyone the two of you happened to come across. As you watched her in action for the first time you were simply amazed by her movements, her agility, just everything about her and you were lucky enough to call her yours?

Just as you were getting lost in thought one of Vanko’s guards came up, but the black tendrils of your tattoos came out. Wrapping around the guards throat just until he passed out from lack of oxygen. The two of you taking down guard after guard as you make your way to Vanko. Natasha pulled out two pistols as she kicked the door in, but Vanko was gone. Just two more of the guards hanging from the ceiling.

“He’s gone.” Natasha stated.

“Fuck.” You cursed, your hands balling into fists as the tattoos moved and itched. Natasha pushed further into the room. Getting up to the computer and started typing as you came up just behind her and to the side. Watching what she was doing. “Are you hacking back into Rhodey’s suit?” You asked getting a short ‘mhmm’ in response. Your eyebrows knitted together. “I didn’t know you could hack.” She threw you a look over her shoulder, a smirk playing on her lips.

“There’s a lot you still need to learn about me cupcake.” It was the way she worded it that made you smile.

“Tony.” Natasha looked at the screen where you could see your father’s face. “Got your best friend back.”

“Thank you very much Agent Romanoff.” Tony saying a meaningful thank you was something you hadn’t heard in a while.

“Well done with the new chest piece.” Natasha commented. “I am reading significantly higher output and your vitals all look promising.”

“Yes, for the moment, I’m not dying. Thank you.” Tony spoke through the comms and you smiled, wrapping and arm around Natasha.

“I’m happy to hear another parent won’t be dying on me.” You joked, but Natasha looked at you and narrowed her eyes.

“Dying? What do you mean? Did you just say you were dying?” Pepper’s face popped up on another monitor, butting into the conversation.

“Is that you? No, I’m not. Not anymore.” Tony replied. You and Natasha exchanged looks and decided not to get involved for the moment.

“What’s going on?”

“I was going to tell you. I didn’t want to alarm you.”

“You were going to tell me? You really were dying.” As the bickering went back and forth a few moments longer before Natasha interrupted finally.

“Hey, hey. Save it for the honeymoon. You got incoming Tony. Looks like the fights coming to you.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat nervously in an abandoned warehouse Fury had set up in. He had asked for you first; alone. Which made you nervous, your leg wouldn’t stop and all the tattoos moved around, twitching incessantly at your anxiety. You looked at the monitors Fury had set up and the news once again talking about ‘Shadow Queen and Iron Man.’ A hard dry swallow came along with it at the moment.

A few manilla folders sat on the desk in front of you with the S.H.I.E.L.D logo and all caps just underneath it, AVENGERS INITIATIVE followed by an empty space and then PRELIMINARY REPORT. Suddenly Fury’s hand is in front of you pushing the folder back onto the table, making your tattoos come off your body and stopping just before you hit him.

“Fuck! You scared me Fury.”

“Sorry little Stark. Just don’t need you lookin at that just yet.” You slowly nodded at him, licking your dry lips. “I don’t know if you’re ready for it just yet.” Your brows knitted together.

“Why don’t you tell me first, then we can figure it out together.” You offered and he laughed.

“You trying to negotiate with me little Stark?” A smile cracking on his face.

“I always negotiate. You know who my parents are don’t you?” You raise an eyebrow, but you aren’t expecting the answer you receive.

“Y/D/N Y/L/N died at at 32 in a car accident caused by your powers awakening. Y/M/N Y/L/N died at at 29 in the same car accident. The three of you were on your way into the city to go see a play on Broadway. You weren’t too interested in going and as you started to throw a tantrum over staying back at home with your nanny a sudden burst of energy came out of you, manifesting in what you now call your tattoos. After they came out of you, you accidently tore through,”

“STOP!” Your tattoos shifted uncomfortably at the memory you hadn’t thought about it in a few years. You had buried it away, pretended it never happened.

“You tore through both your parents ending their lives in an instant.” Fury finished and you felt bile rise up that you swallowed back down. “Then the injuries you sustained which were minimal due to your tattoos protecting you you had been left to your father’s best friend and originally your Godfather, Tony Stark.”

“Please...stop. I don’t need my life rehashed.” You pleaded.

“Look at this. Agent Romanoff’s assesment of you.”

“Is...is that really?”

“Read. It.” You sighed and took the folder opening it. Skimming through,

“Okay Y/N Stark takes much after her adoptive father in many aspects, but had many caring tendencies to look after and take care of others even at the young age she is. She is kind, caring, and loving to those around her even when she’s just met you.” You carry on reading until you see it. Y/N Stark a.k.a Shadow Queen has a lot of heart and could be a liability to herself and others due to her caring nature.” You read the last line again. “No. No that isn’t fair. She’s saying that becasuse she doesn’t want me out there! She’s saying this because she cares about me. She told me she can’t loose me and this is her way of trying to stop me!” You slammed your hands down and stood up.

“I know. She told me her reasoning. Told me it was the one time she couldn’t put her feelings to the side. I’ve known Romanoff for many years now and never has she had trouble putting her feelings to the side. So I am giving the yes.” You looked up at Fury.

“You are?” You asked a little shocked.

“Yes. I am. Do not make me regret it little Stark. You’ve trained for a long time and now it’s time for you to stand in the spotlight. Little girls are already looking up to you.” Fury patted your back letting you know you could leave. You had to go talk with Nat about this.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So he still let you join?” The two of you were laying down, she was on her back and you snuggled into her side. For once you two were both in comfortable clothes. Her hair down and slightly messy with a tank top and sweats. While you were in leggings and an old iron maiden t-shirt. Her fingers running through your hair.

“Yes. I’m still not happy you tried to stop me.” You grumbled against her.

“I know and I still stand there on it.” You roll your eyes and bite at her shoulder making her moan out. “Hey. Behave.” She reprimands and pushes her fingers against your lips. You willingly take those instead. “I don’t want you risking it out there for the wrong people or reasons.” You nodded in understanding. “I can’t lose you.” Her voice was soft and her eyes bore into you. You let her fingers go, cupping her cheek before leaning up and kissing her. It was a soft kis where you two moved your lips against each other slowly and just enjoyed the moment before you pulled away.

“You won’t lose me. I promise.” You placed your foreheads together as she accepted the answer for now though you knew she’d still always worry. You’d never let her know just how worried she made you. She’s a black widow, but she was still a human with no enhancement unlike you. Your tattoos were instinctive to protect you and those you care about. “I’m not going anywhere Tasha.” You reassured her with another kiss as the two of you melted into each other, finally getting to just enjoy each other after the past month of activities that had occurred and you were hopeful for more time like this with her for at least a little while before Fury called up one of you. You could only hope though.

#ley writes #ley speaks #ley masterlist #natalie rushman #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x you #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #black widow x you #natasha romanoff x female

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just-aake · 9 months

Text

Widow’s Charm

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha finds herself falling for Tony’s new lab assistant and weapons technician.

Warnings: fluff

Words: 3322

Natasha walks down the hallway towards Tony’s lab, holding her widow bite gauntlets in her hand. Typically, she would have just sent them down to be repaired, but an unexpected mission came up which means she needs them fixed sooner rather than later. Reaching the entrance of the lab, the doors slide open for her as she enters.

“Hey Tony, can you fix–,” Natasha stops when she notices someone else working in the lab.

You look up from your work table at the new voice in the room and see the Black Widow staring at you curiously. You have been working at the Avenger’s Compound as the new weapons technician as well as Tony’s lab assistant for the past few months.

Since then, you’ve met all of the other Avengers already except for the mysterious Black Widow, though you have repaired some of her equipment that she had sent down previously.

Tony tells you that she prefers to keep to herself, which you can understand. You settled with the fact that you may never meet her in person, so it is a small shock to see her standing in front of you.

Putting down your tools, you wipe your hands on your apron and walk over to her. Extending your hand to her, you give her a polite smile as you introduce yourself.

“Hello, my name is Y/n L/n. I’m the new weapons technician and Mr. Stark’s assistant in the lab. How can I help, Ms. Romanoff?”

A small surprised smile forms on Natasha’s face at your words. Intrigued to learn more about you, she raises her hand to yours in greeting.

“Hi, you can just call me Nata–.”

“No, no, no!” A voice yells from down the halls outside of the lab.

Tony comes rushing into the lab, breathing heavily. Looking around frantically, his eyes widen at the two of you. He rushes over to you quickly, grabbing you by the shoulders, and pushing you away from Natasha and out into the hallway.

“I need you to go get the thing from Pepper,” he tells you.

“What thing?” you ask in confusion as you turn back around to him.

He gives you a brief wave before pressing the button on the side, shutting the lab doors in your face.

For a moment, Tony remains standing by the door, tensed as he purposely avoid looking at Natasha. Then, in the next second, his entire body suddenly relaxes, and he moves casually over to his workstation.

“FRIDAY, what’s the plan for today?” Tony asks.

“The parts for the new repulsors arrived today, sir,” the AI voice replies.

“Great, get those plans pulled up for me, will you?”

Natasha blinks at the lab doors as she tries to process what just happened. She turns to Tony, looking for an explanation.

“What the hell was that Tony?” she exclaims.

Tony looks at her with his eyebrows raised.

“What was what?”

“You just suddenly pushed Y/n out of the room.”

Tony's mouth presses into a tight line as he gives her a confused look. “Never heard of her. Was there somebody here FRIDAY?”

“No, sir.”

Tony nods back at her with a satisfied look.

Crossing her arms, Natasha was about to argue when the lab doors opened up again.

Pepper walks into the room towards Tony.

“Y/n said you told her to get a ‘thing’ from me?”

Tony lets out a groan as he hangs his head. Sighing, he gestures to Natasha.

“Y/n met Natasha.”

Pepper lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Really, Tony? We talked about this. You can’t place all the blame on her.”

Natasha raises her hands to get their attention. “Can somebody please explain to me what’s going on?”

Pepper turns to her, a small apologetic look on her face.

“Tony thinks you are the reason why his assistants keep quitting.”

Natasha frowns at the accusation. “How is that my fault?”

Tony scoffs in disbelief. “FRIDAY, pull up the timeline.”

A holographic screen pops up between them showing the past year with certain dates highlighted. Tony points to one of the earliest dates in the year.

“Avery Grayson. She met you on her second day on the job. A week later she asks you out but you decline. She turns in her resignation the following week.”

Natasha raises her eyebrows at the information.

“That doesn’t prove—“

Tony interrupts her, “Quinn Turner. She confesses to you a month after your first interaction. Gets turned down too and then quits three days later.”

Tony brings up the two most recent dates.

“Same thing with Riley and Harper. It’s a pattern. They meet you, fall for you, get rejected, and then quit.”

Natasha looks over at Pepper, silently asking if he was serious. In response, Pepper gives her a resigned nod as she rubs her head tiredly.

Tony gets her attention when he points at her accusingly.

“Do you know how hard it is to find competent people who know how to handle this level of equipment?”

Natasha lets out a huff of disbelief, crossing her arms. She remembers his previous assistants. To be honest, most of her interactions with them were completely professional. She didn’t get close to any of them personally or showed any romantic interest, which made each of the confessions surprising to her.

Still, this doesn’t explain what he was trying to do with you. She raises her eyebrow at him.

“So your plan was to what? Hide your new assistant from me forever?”

“Not forever. Just until I can find someone for her so that she doesn’t fall for you.”

Natasha rolls her eyes at his ridiculousness. Focusing back on her original intention, she places her widow bite gauntlets on the work table.

“Can you just fix these for me? I have a mission in a few hours.”

“Fine, but you stay away from my assistant,” he warns.

Natasha heads toward the exit and waves her hand, dismissing his words. It’s not like she intends to make you fall for her, but she has to admit that she is interested to learn more about you.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

You look up from your sketches at the sound of the lab door opening and see the Black Widow stroll into the room. You give her a smile in greeting.

“Welcome back, Ms. Romanoff. Are you looking for Mr. Stark?”

She walks over to your workspace, leaning slightly against the table as she looks at you.

“Actually, I was coming to see you, and you can just call me Natasha. We got interrupted the last time we met.”

Nodding your head, you laugh softly at the memory.

“Pepper explained to me what that was about.” You give her a teasing suspicious look. “So are you here to make me fall for you?”

Natasha gives you an amused smile. Most people don’t usually get comfortable around her so quickly.

“Only if you want to,” she says nonchalantly.

You chuckle at her response.

“Unfortunately, you won’t be hearing a confession from me soon. I like my job here.”

Natasha feels a tinge of disappointment at your words, her smile dropping slightly. You don’t notice though since your attention had drifted to the widow bite gauntlets on her wrists.

“Speaking of, did you want me to take a look at that?” You can see that there was some damage from a fight probably during her recent mission.

Glancing down, Natasha shrugs. “I can do it later myself.”

“Well, that explains why I don’t see your stuff across my desk that often.” You raise your hand out to her anyway.

She stares at you curiously before slowly placing her hand in yours.

You let out a small laugh at her action. “This is nice, but I actually want the gauntlets.” You hold her hand gently in yours before turning it around to reach the clasp on the weapon.

Natasha tilts her head as she observes you. You were focused but gentle as you worked, and you didn’t show any signs that you were intimidated by who she was. In fact, you were pretty cute as you scrunch your face in concentration. She decides to tease you a little.

“You know, I don’t usually let people take things off my body until at least the second date.”

You remove the second gauntlet from her other wrist with a start before you see the teasing smirk on her face. You let out a small huff before refocusing your attention on your table.

“I see what Mr. Stark means when he said you were charming.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And what else did he tell you about me?”

“That you didn’t like meeting new people, though now I think that may have been a lie.”

Natasha shrugs before leaning in a little closer to you.

“It’s sort of true. I just prefer to meet people that I’m interested in.”

You turn away from her to hide the smile on your face, pretending to look for some tools.

The lab doors slide open as Tony walks in while reading the tablet in his hand. Looking up, he sighs sadly when he sees Natasha next to you.

“Did she get to you already?”

You give him a reassuring look. “No confessions from me. Natasha just needed some things fixed.”

Tony stares at the two of you doubtfully before pointing to Natasha.

“Don’t you have reports to do or something?”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha stands to leave. She turns to you with a soft smile.

“I’ll come visit more often now that I know you exist.”

You bite your lips to hide your smile as you watch her leave.

As Natasha exits the lab, she hears Tony’s voice call out.

“FRIDAY, can you restrict her access to the lab?”

“I’m afraid Ms. Potts has already denied that request, sir.”

Natasha smirks at the AI response. She should get something for Pepper later as thanks.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

As she said, over the following weeks, Natasha visits you often in the lab. Sometimes with some equipment that needed to be fixed. Other times just to talk. Later, when she finds out that you usually eat your lunch in the lab, she would also join you if she had the time.

You look up when you hear the doors open, already knowing who to expect. Natasha walks in, waving the take-out bag in her hands.

You groan in relief at the sight of her. “You are a lifesaver.”

You stand and grab the food from her eagerly before moving it to an area where the two of you can eat.

Natasha sits on the edge of your work table as she watches you set out the food.

“Well, I know how you get absorbed into your work and forget to eat,” she tells you knowingly.

Her eyes glance at the papers on your desk that you were previously working on. Most of them had rough sketches of designs for some of the equipment of the other Avengers. Her name on one paper catches her attention. Picking it up, Natasha examines the details curiously.

At the sudden silence, you glance up at her. You do a double take when you realize what she was looking at.

Over time, as you worked on her equipment, you’ve noticed that her current suit’s belt doesn’t hold much ammo or gadgets, so you had sketched some ideas that you had for her.

“That’s just some ideas of some upgrades that I had. It’s not really anything worth looking at.”

Natasha shakes her head in disagreement before handing the paper back to you.

“I like it. I’m sure Tony will get you the parts that you would need if you want to work on it.”

“Really?” you ask her, astonished.

She nods at you reassuringly before pushing you back towards the food.

“We can discuss it later, but first, let’s eat.”

A few weeks later, you completed your first prototype, and you were excited to show Natasha and test it out.

Natasha admires the new belt on the table. It was still slim and compact, but she can see where you had added extra slots for her weapons. You also included her signature red symbol on the buckle.

You were practically buzzing with excitement.

“I just need to see if there needs to be any more adjustments with the sizing.”

Without thinking, you grab her hand to pull her closer to you. You move quickly as you remove her current belt. Taking the new belt, your hands wrap around her waist as you grab one end before bringing it to her front and snapping it into place. You fidget with the belt, checking for any snags or looseness, totally absorbed in your work.

Natasha’s initial surprised expression melts into an amused and fond look on her face as she watches you. You were adorable when you concentrated on your work, and honestly, she’s not sure how much longer she can hold in her feelings for you.

After performing your final checks and detailing little changes that needed to be adjusted, you suddenly froze when you realized Natasha hadn’t said a word since you started.

Your eyes widened, mortified when you see your current position. Your body had moved closer to Natasha’s when you were making adjustments. One of your hands was still placed atop the belt while the other was resting against her stomach, and you could feel her toned body underneath your hand. You swallow nervously as you look up at her.

She tilts her head at you as you continue to stare at her.

“Everything okay?”

The closeness between your bodies was making it hard for you to think. Eventually, you were able to get your brain to function enough to respond.

“Yeah…all good.” You unconsciously lick your lips out of embarrassment.

You see Natasha's eyes flick down to your mouth at the action, and you feel your face heat up even more. You should definitely step away from her now. As you go to move, Natasha’s next words causes you to stop in surprise.

“Would you like to go out with me?”

Your eyes widen at her question, and you see a hopeful expression on her face as she waits for your response. Instinctively, you want to say ‘yes’ and close the distance between you two, but you stop yourself, hesistating.

Natasha sees the conflicting feelings on your face, so she decides to ease the pressure a little with some teasing.

“You know, according to Tony’s theory, since I’m the one who confessed, a rejection would mean that I would need to quit my job.”

You can't help but laugh at her reasoning before giving her a playful smile, teasing back.

“Well, we can’t have the Black Widow quitting over a failed confession.”

Natasha places her hands on your waist, pulling you in closer. She tilts her head at you in question.

“I haven’t failed yet. Technically, you never gave me an answer.”

You move your arms to wrap around the back of her neck as you pretend to think about your decision.

“So I still get to keep my job?”

Natasha nods reassuringly. “For however long you can stand working with Tony’s ego.”

You give her a fond smile.

“Then yes, I would love to go out with you.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Tony was throwing you a party to celebrate your first anniversary since working with the Avengers and him, even though you insisted that it wasn’t necessary. He disagrees, saying how nobody has lasted this long, so you relented.

Naturally, you went with Natasha as your date since you have been dating her for several months already. The only problem is that you forgot to update Tony about your new relationship.

When the two of you enter the party, Natasha leans down and whispers next to your ear, “I’ll go get us something to drink.”

With a light touch against your back, she walks away toward the bar.

You are lost in your thoughts as you admire her walk away, so you are startled when Tony slides in front of you, excitement in his eyes.

“Y/n! Good, I found you.”

You smile at him, used to his frantic energy by now.

“Hello, Mr. Stark, was there something that you needed?”

He waves his hand dismissively at you.

“This party is for you, and you’ve been working with me for a year now. I’ve told you to just call me Tony.”

You give him an apologetic look before asking him curiously.

“You said you were looking for me?”

Tony claps his hands at the reminder.

“Yes, I want you to meet someone. She’s a nice person, has a great personality, and she works as a pilot.”

You raise your hand to try and stop him. “I already have some—“

“Oh, here she is!”

You give him a tight smile as the woman approaches the two of you. Tony pats you on the back in encouragement, turning to leave.

“Alright, I’ll leave the two of you alone.”

“Wait, Tony—,“ you try to stop him, but he rushes away. Turning back to the woman, you give her a polite smile as she introduces herself.

Meanwhile, Natasha was standing at the bar, waiting for your drinks.

“I am the greatest boss ever,” Tony exclaims, sliding in next to her.

Natasha rolls her eyes at his words. Deciding to indulge him while she waits, she asks him to explain.

“How’s that?”

“I just found the perfect date for our favorite weapons techie.”

Natasha frowns when she realizes what he said. Turning around to look at where she left you, she sees that you were currently talking with a beautiful woman.

Her posture relaxes when she reads your body language. You had a polite smile on your face as you listened to the woman, but she could see how tense your body was, and your hand at your side kept fidgeting with your dress.

“Now I don’t have to worry about her falling for you,” Tony says smugly.

“No, we wouldn’t want that,” Natasha smirks as she turns back around to grab the drinks that the bartender just placed in front of her.

Tony notices the two drinks in her hands and raises his eyebrows at her.

“You have a date?”

“Girlfriend.”

Without explaining further, she heads back toward you. By the time Natasha reaches you, the other woman was already turning to leave, nodding at Natasha in acknowledgment.

You let out a breath of relief as Natasha comes back to your side. Thankfully, the woman was understanding when you explained the situation to her.

Natasha hands you your drink as she returns her hand around your waist, pulling you against her. She sighs in disappointment as she watches the woman leave.

“Here I thought I had the chance to be a hero and save you.”

You give her a teasing smile. “Maybe next time.”

Natasha presses a soft kiss to your lips in response before pulling away.

You tilt your head curiously at her. “What was that for?”

Natasha gives you an affectionate look.

“First, because I love you.”

Her expression shifts into a smirk.

“Second, is Tony freaking out?”

You look over her shoulders at the bar and see Tony gaping at the two of you, pointing accusingly at Natasha while Pepper holds him back from rushing over.

You turn back to her, giving her an amused look.

“He’s going to lock you out again.”

Natasha just shrugs, unbothered. “He can’t keep me away from you.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively at you. “He also can’t stop you from visiting me in my room during your breaks.”

You push her lightly before bringing her face close for a kiss.

When you accepted this job, you never thought you would end up in a relationship with the Black Widow. Then again you never imagine that she would end up falling for you.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romonoff fluff

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toji-girl · 2 months

Note

31 & 37 for that smut prompt thing, but with Midoriya. You know that broccoli headed little angel is nothing but a savage in the the sheets

SJKns YES!! I love him so much! I will always think of Izuku the sweet-faced man who is so good to you, but in the bedroom? I feel like he can be such a dom or sub, whatever you want that man will be! this is not my best work djn - prompts

tags: 18+ only content - mdni + fem reader + Izuku got dusted with sex pollen + overstimulation + kitchen sex + creampie + all characters are over the age of 21

Monday started off like most days.

You woke up before your husband to pack Izuku some lunch for his shift, then you bid him goodbye with a hug and kiss that he always treasured and asked for more because he never knows if he's making it back home to you or not, so he's extra with his affection.

However, it wasn't a normal day though, during your self-care routine your phone vibrated on the bathroom counter, it was your husband.

He never called during the day unless it was super important, but if you ever rang him then he'd answer, Izuku prefers to send a quick text to tell you he was thinking about you, but this? This is new.

Jabbing the screen you answered it and wiped off your cream face mask. "Hey babe, you okay?" You asked leaning into the mirror.

On the other side of the phone you could hear him breathing raggedly, your name rolled off his tongue hoarse and thick.

"Is the front door unlocked?" Izuku asked ignoring your question.

After you wiped your face off you made your way to the front door making sure it was unlocked for him before going to the kitchen in need of something to drink. "It is yes, what's the matter Izuku?"

Instead of getting an answer he hung up on you which only made you more confused, then a few moments later you heard the front door.

Heavy footsteps sounded throughout the house that came closer to you. "Izuku?" You called out a little worried and confused about why your husband was acting like this until he finally showed himself.

He stood tall and strong like a willow tree leaning against the doorframe breathing raggedly as he stared at you, his chest rising fast as he closed the distance between the both of you.

His fingers curled into the fabric of your dress as he buried his nose into the crook of your neck as got you naked, his lips following no pattern as he peppered you with wet kisses while groping your ass.

"Babe? What is going on?" You asked with a slight gasp as he kneeled in front of you to tug your panties down. With your hands on his shoulders, he looked up at you with pink cheeks and wild eyes.

Izuku leaned in to inhale the musky scent of your pussy on bare display for him, his tongue lolled out to taste you as his hands stayed glued to your ass. "Villian." He muttered giving you half an answer.

With his mouth suctioned to your cunt there was no way you wanted it now anyway as you leaned against the counter to stay upright as you spread your legs hoisting one up over his shoulder as your fingers threaded through dark and green hair tugging slightly with a moan.

His tongue stroked over your clit over and over again bringing forth a type of pleasure that made you dizzy with it, all you could do was focus on the pressure he was using to bring you to climax.

As you stared down at him he looked like a feral man when he pulled away to lick his lips cleaning up your slick with a soft growl as he stood to his full height to rip his uniform off quickly. "Deku!"

Usually, when you used that name he would look at you like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar but this time he ignored you as he shredded the material until he stood stark naked in front of you.

Scars that looked like lightning were scattered along his body from years of training, now at twenty-eight years old he only gained more from his time in UA. Your eyes widened at his erection that stood up.

"It's so big. How the hell are we gonna make that thing fit?"

His cock was bigger and thicker, curving a little to make sure it hit the perfect spot to have you creaming, the head was swollen and dripped with thick pre-cum, something you'd never seen before.

Izuku wrapped his fingers around the base and jerked himself off as he turned you around making sure you braced yourself before he pressed the tip against your fluttering hole. "A little bit of patience."

With the sex pollen that was dusted over him and the group he was in, it seemed that Izuku got the worst of it and he didn't have time to shower like everyone else did, and right now he didn't have any patience, his mind was swimming with one thing only: you.

He rested his hands on your hips once he pushed inside while leaning forward to nuzzle his head against your shoulder as he thrust all the way in. "Feels so good, gonna drown myself inside your pussy."

His voice came out gravelly as he rutted against you like a virgin not really thinking about anything else but the way your warm silken walls hugged him tight made his stomach ripple with pleasure.

You spread your legs wider for him feeling him go even deeper if that was possible making you gasp and push against him grinding down on him fucking yourself now as he transferred the pollen to you.

The both of you fucked each other like wild animals snarling and mating, his fingers curled into your dress again ripping the fabric until it hung around your frame in shreds with missing chunks.

Izuku pounded you from behind his hips were sure to bruise your ass and you both were going to be sore tomorrow as he hunched over you more kissing and biting at your neck and panting your name.

You lost count of how many times you came coating his dick in w a white creamy essence that he begged you to suck clean then he'd eat his loads of cum from your gaping cunt until you were empty.

It was only right that he filled you up again.

"I'm not done with you. Get back here." Izuku growled pushing himself back inside you to rid of that pollen that made his blood boil when you attempted to pull away for a moment.

#💌incoming #I was having problems ending it #I hated all of them difjiert so I chose this one #izuku x reader smut #deku smut #Deku smut #Izuku x you smut #Izuku smut #izuku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha smut #my hero academia x reader

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michelleleewise · 10 months

Note

Can I have a story where reader has a huge crush on loki (reader won't admit they're inlove tho) and wants to be his in every aspect? She doesn't want to confess because she knows she'll get rejected and knows she's not his type. Though reader maybe sneaky, they forget that loki can sometimes read minds. They play this cat-and-mouse game it may or may not lead to smut 👀 I kind of had this idea by listening to "I Wanna Be Yours" by Arctic Monkeys. Thank you so much <3

Hiiiii!!! I'm sorry this took so long to get to!!!! But thank you so much for sending it to me!! I hope you like it!!! 💚💚💚

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Thinking of You

Pairing: Avenger Loki x female reader

Warnings: swearing, mild yelling, mind reading, self esteem issues, NSFW, masturbation, mildly rough sex (nothing graphic), if I missed anything let me know!! 💚

Summary: Everytime you see Loki your thoughts run wild....unbeknownst to you, he can hear them too...

A/n- sorry this took so long!!! It's probably terrible, I'm a bit rusty......sorry!!!!! 💚💚

"No the other way." You urged into the coms, swiping between screens on the computer screen like a maniac trying to guide the team to where they needed to be. "Y/n, where is it!?" Tony yelled into his earpiece making you wince "there is no need to yell Stark" You heard Loki's smooth voice sound in your ear making you sigh "that's easy for you to say Rudolph, you aren't surrounded by agents." Tony said when you heard an explosion echo into you ear. "Do stop complaining Stark." Loki said when you heard a grunt sound through Loki's coms "you are becoming rather insufferable." He continued making you giggle "I swear laufeyson, when we get back..." Tony started when you heard Thor's booming voice join the conversation "would you two please desist with this nonsense!" Thor yelled making you jump.

"Yes, please silence yourself stark....now darling which way do we go?" Loki asked into his earpiece, the low timbre of his voice sending a shiver up your spine "i...I...let me see" you said searching the map again "take your...umph...time darling, no rush." Loki purred into your ear as you heard a thud on his end. "Ok, everyone needs to get to Loki's location, that's where the serum is." You said pulling up everyone's position, "aaah, Right again I see." Loki laughed into his earpiece "shut up Loki." Thor bellowed into his coms "come now, jealousy does not suit you brother." Loki mocked making you laugh "something funny agent?" You heard Tony snark into the coms "no sir, sorry." You said looking down at your hands.

You listened as the team completed the mission, bickering the entire time. If you were honest you weren't sure how they didn't kill eachother everytime they went on a mission. "Alright, back to the jet everyone." Tony said. "I thank you for your assistance lady y/n." Loki purred into the earpiece making your cheeks heat up "y...you welcome Loki "Alright romeo let's go...shutting down coms, see you back at the tower." Tony said as the line went silent. You took a deep breath pulling your earpiece out when Nat walked over leaning on your desk "quite the sweet talker isn't he?" She asked making you giggle "well they do call him silvertongue." You said trying to not look at her "yeah, makes you wonder what else he can do with his tongue." She said as you stood up "Natasha!" You whisper yelled making her laugh "oh come on, we all know how you feel about him." She said as you grabbed a stack of files quickly turning "I don't know what your talking about." You said making your way to the filing cabinets.

"Y/n, why don't you just talk to him?" She asked following you "I do talk to him." You snapped hoping she would let it go "you know what I mean y/n." She scolded crossing her arms "because..." you sighed setting the files down "because there will never be a universe where he feels the same." You said opening the filing cabinet "you don't know that, the way he talks to you..." She started when you slammed the drawer shut "I'm not stupid nat, he's just being polite...letting his princely charm ooze out of him. I've seen I him do it at parties." You said closing your eyes "I'm not special, he doesn't like me and he never will...why would he?" You asked walking back towards your desk "um, your funny, smart, witty.." nat said continuing to follow you "plain, ordinary...boring." you huffed grabbing your bag "y/n seriously..." you cut her off lifting your hand "no, he doesn't know...he'll never know." You said walking towards the door, stopping in the doorway "I...I don't think I could handle that rejection." You said before walking out heading towards your apartment

You spent the next few days chained to your desk, stacks of mission reports to go through and file from the last mission. Looking up rubbing your eyes seeing you had worked past your lunch "I need a break." You sighed closing the file you were working on as you stood up. Grabbing your coffee mug you made your way to the break room and the espresso machine Tony had recently installed. After choosing what you wanted you leaned your head against the cabinet waiting for the machine to do its thing, praying it would hurry when what nat said the other day ran through your mind does everyone really know....am I that obvious? You thought when the loud beep pulled you from your thoughts. "Thank god." You breathed bringing the cup to your lips taking a small sip you closed your eyes feeling the caffeine touch your soul "mmmhhh." You moaned with a sigh.

"Now that is a sound I could get used to." A deep voice behind you said, your eyes shooting open as you turned seeing Loki leaning against the doorway his arms crossed, the buttons of his white shirt straining against his chest "l...loki w...what are you doing here?" You asked setting the cup down "oh, some nonsense of starks." He said pushing off the doorframe sliding his hands in the pockets of his tight black jeans "something about not completing my reports." He shrugged taking a step into the room "o..oh, um he didn't say anything to me." You said fidgeting with your fingers "well let's be honest, when have you known stark to be organized?" He asked making you laugh "so, naturally I came to you to see if there were any...discrepancies." He purred coming to stand in front of you, his cologne wafting between you making you sigh god he smells good you thought hearing loki laugh "do you like the cologne? I just purchased it." He asked smiling "oh...yeah! Your...rrr I mean it...it's good." You stuttered watching his smile widen

"well darling, if you wouldn't mind may I....come with you?" He asked, the baritone in his voice stirring something inside you I'll be coming later you thought remembering all the nights you touched yourself at the thought of his large hands roaming your body, his deep voice whispering how much he wanted you in your ear. You bit your lip seeing him raise an eyebrow at you "er...um sorry...what were you saying?" You asked wringing yours hands "Darling, i was asking if I could come and look at the reports." He said smiling again "oh! Right...yes absolutely!" You said shaking the impure thoughts from your head as you stepped around him and headed back towards your desk. You sat down, digging through the stack of files until you saw "Laufeyson" pulling it out "ah, here it is." You said freezing feeling a hand on your back "you forgot your coffee my dear." He purred setting your cup on the desk "oh, thank you Loki." You said feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Now, let's see shall we?" He asked, taking the file from you He sat it down on the desk in front of you, his one hand sliding to the back of your chair as he leaned his large lithe frame over you, feeling the heat from his chest against your arm. "Hmm..." he hummed flipping through the file page by page, his scent ingulphing you as your mind raced at his proximity to you, the way his forearms flexed with each page turn, your eyes tracing the veins running down to his... "I do not see any issue, do you darling?" He asked when you tilted your head up towards him, your nose almost touching his as he leaned closer "i...um...." your mind going blank as your eyes met his, you couldn't help stare into them. They always reminded you of a forest after a storm, the deep green and blue swirling in a maelstrom as powerful as the man they belonged to but at this closeness you could see specs of gold shining in them.

"Loki..." you whispered, your eyes shooting down to his lips they look so soft you thought when you felt him lean closer "y/n." He breathed when you looked back into his eyes "i..." you trailed off, feeling like your heart was going to beat out of your chest "tell me darling." He whispered as he hovered over you his eyes never leaving yours "i..." you tried again, your mouth going dry feeling his finger tuck your hair behind your ear "hmm?" He hummed expectantly the tip of his nose touching yours "agent y/l/n." You heard from across the room making Loki shoot straight up as you jumped "a..agent hill, morning...er afternoon." You stuttered watching Maria walk in "and what do we owe the pleasure Loki?" She asked nearing your desk "oh, I was only ensuring my report was accurate, I would hate to make miss y/n's job harder then it is." He explained, freezing feeling his finger slowly trail up your arm. "Well im sure the agent has it under control Mr. Laufeyson." Hill said coming to stand on your other side "yes, she does. So I will take my leave...perhaps I will see you later agent." He purred as you looked up at him seeing him smile "o...ok, bye Loki." You smiled back as he bowed slightly before walking to the door.

You sat staring at the file Loki had been going through when you felt Hill nudge you "oh my God, what was that about?" She asked sitting on the edge of your desk, her stern demeanor vanishing "i...I don't know." You said looking up at her "well he looked like he was about to eat you." She laughed making you laugh with her "no, he just wanted to go through his report." You said setting it back on the pile "riiight, even though he's never had an issue with them before." She said crossing her arms. "I...well maybe he...umm." you stuttered trying to think of a reason "dude, just accept the man wanted to eat you like a cream filled donut." She said making you laugh "what!? No he doesn't!" You urged hearing her laugh "well apparently you didn't see the look on his face." She said hopping off the desk. "Look, all I'm saying is maybe he likes you too." She shrugged walking to the door "no he doesn't, he's just being nice." You said grabbing your cup "uh huh...whatever you say." She winked as she walked out.

You sat back sipping your coffee trying to process what had happened when you heard your name called, looking up seeing Tony "Hey kid, I just wanted to check and see how those are coming along." He said pointing at the reports "fury is down my throat about them." He laughed as you looked up at him "oh yeah, they're almost done." You said setting your cup down "oh, and Loki came by like you asked." You said grabbing his file "i didn't ask him to come by." Tony said crossing his arms "yes you did." You said looking back at him "no....I didn't." He argued making you sigh "you sent him down saying there was an issue with his reports." You argued back tossing the file down "I hate to break it to you, but I didn't send him down here, I haven't even talked to him in days." He said making your eyebrows furrow "just have them done by tonight ok?" Tony asked as you nodded looking back down at your desk. "If Tony didn't tell him to come down here.." your thoughts trailed off as you looked up at the clock seeing it was already almost three "shit.." you sighed pushing your thoughts aside grabbing the next file getting back to work.

It had been a couple weeks since your last interaction with Loki, but you couldn't get it out of your mind, it was beginning to drive you crazy. You were sat at your desk tapping your pen on a stack of files remembering the way his eyes stared into yours, how close he was to you, frowning remembering the lie he told you "Hey y/n, I need you to have Thor fix this." Maria said setting a piece of paper on your desk, seeing it was one of his mission reports "oh? What's wrong with it?" You asked picking it up "look at the description." She laughed as you looked down at that section seeing a simple "we won" written "I've told him that's not adequate but..." She sighed shaking her head. "Could you please have him actually write what happened?" She asked as you nodded "yeah, I just gotta find him." You said standing up "I believe he's in the training room, good luck." She smiled walking out. "Of course he is." You sighed walking towards the elevators.

You took a deep breath grabbing the handle of the door you pulled it open seeing Thor sparring with Steve as you walked in "Thor!" You yelled getting his attention seeing him smile at you as he walked over "Lady y/n, what can I do for you?" He asked setting his hammer down "you didn't fill out your report from the last mission." You said holding the paper out to him "you have to write a full description." You said holding your pen out to him "I do not see why, we won that's all that is important." He said grabbing the pen "just write something to make Hill happy." You laughed crossing your arms "very well, give me one moment." He said walking to the benches sitting down.

You looked out into the training room seeing Natasha on the treadmill, Steve had gone over to the punching bags, and then your eyes landed on Loki, dressed in black gym shorts that gave you full view of his muscular thighs, accompanied by a black tank top that was so tight you were surprised he could move, biting you lip watching as he sparred with Bucky. Your eyes traveled up seeing his long hair pulled back into a low bun, sweat making a few loose strands stick to his forehead as he pivoted and swayed, avoiding all of Bucky's attacks with the grace of a dancer. "Fuck...." you breathed, crossing your foot over the other clenching your thighs together trying to hide your arousal as bucky lunged at Loki when his large hand grabbed his throat, planting his foot behind bucky he threw him to the mat on his back kneeling next to him with his hand still on his throat god he could choke me anytime you thought biting your lip when Loki's eyes suddenly met yours making you jump.

His eyes didn't leave yours as he stood up, extending his hand to bucky pulling him up you watched his bicep flex, the veins in his arms bulging as Bucky got to his feet goood...I want trace them with my tongue you thought feeling your face heat up, arousal pooling in your stomach as your eyes met his again seeing a darkness in them you never had before "Lady y/n." Thor suddenly said next to you making you jump "apologies, I didn't mean to startle you." He said as you clutched your chest "no, it's ok." You said taking a deep breath "I have finished your report." He smiled holding out the paper "oh, thank you thor." You said quickly grabbing the paper "are you ok? You look a little flushed." He said as you ripped your pen out of his hand "yes! I'm fine." You said glancing over seeing Loki still watching you "i...I gotta go, see you later." You said quickly turning and walking towards the door, one last look back seeing Loki's eyes still on you making you shiver as you walked out.

You made your way back downstairs gripping the pen and paper in your hand, walking into Maria's office you slapped it on her desk "there." You said turning around "you ok? You seem...off." She said making you turn back to her "yeah! Totally fine!" You rushed out "I'm gonna call it a day, I'll see you tomorrow." You smiled before walking to your desk shutting everything off heading back upstairs to your apartment. Walking in you closed the door behind you leaning your back against it "Dammit Loki." You sighed closing your eyes, the friction of your clothing against your core making you moan "bath...a bath sounds good." You said rushing into the bathroom you turned the water on adding the bubbles as you pulled your clothes off before easing into the hot water.

You leaned back, closing your eyes you pictured the broody God, his eyes....his smile...."loki.." you whispered sliding your hand down your stomach, you gripped the side of the tub as your fingers slowly slid over your folds, biting your lip as you slowly moved your fingers down to your entrance dipping them inside you rocked your hand back and forth, imagining they were Loki's. "God...Loki..." you moaned moving your fingers faster, feeling that familiar tightening in your stomach "mmm....haaaarder...." you breathed picturing Loki's eyes staring into yours, his hand wrapped around your throat "fuuuck..Loki." you cried out feeling orgasm wash over you, squeezing your thighs together you slowly slid your fingers out.

You took a deep breath still feeling unsatisfied "ugh, that usually works." You sighed sitting up rubbing your temples. You groaned, grabbing your body wash you cleaned yourself up before getting out of the tub, the ache still very present in your core. Looking up seeing it was almost ten "Maybe I'll make some tea." You said to yourself slipping on your sleep shorts and a bright green tank top pulling your hair back before opening your door and making your way down to the kitchen. You slowly walked in releasing a breath seeing it empty and dark "good, everyone must be busy." You said walking in grabbing the kettle filling it before setting it on the stove.

You opened the cabinet seeing all the coffee mugs on the top shelf "freaking giants" you mumbled lifting you knee onto the counter pulling yourself up freezing hearing someone clear their throat. You slowly leaned back, peeking out from behind the cabinet door seeing Loki standing next to the counter by the door, wearing the white shirt that would cause your death, his hand in his pocket as he tilted his head "h...hey Loki." You said smiling nervously "evening y/n, may I ask what it is your doing up there?" He asked when the kettle screamed. You cleared your throat watching him move it and turn the burner off. "Well, you see....I couldn't sleep so...tea." you laughed as he looked back over to you "and all the mugs are up there." You said pointing to the top of the cabinet "ah, I see." You heard him say as you reached up grabbing a cup.

You went to put your foot down on the floor when your other knee slipped causing you to drop the cup as you fell back off the counter when an arm wrapped around your middle pulling you backwards, you back hitting solid muscle looking to the side seeing Loki smiling down at you. "Your cup my lady." He said lifting his other hand you looked at it seeing your cup dangling from his finger "t..thank you." You stuttered lifting the cup from his finger. "You really must be more careful my dear." He purred when you felt his thumb sliding up and down by your rib, slowly moving up towards your breast "i...I should finish the tea." You said pulling away from him walking to the stove. Stop it y/n, he's just being nice you thought shaking your head when the cabinet door slammed making you jump, turning to see Loki's hand on it.

"Loki...are you ok?" You asked as he turned around "no y/n, I'm afraid I'm not." He said taking a step towards you. "I...I can get bruce...or thor?" You asked stepping back as he came closer "I'm afraid neither of them can assist me." He growled continuing his advance as you walked backwards through the kitchen, loki right on top of you "um..well I could.." you trailed as your back hit the table "these games have exhausted me y/n." He said coming to stand in front of you his chest inches from yours "I don't know..." you started when he leaned forward planting his palms on either side of you caging you in "do not lie to me y/n," He said sternly making you shiver "l..loki i..." you sighed looking down fidgeting with your hands when he leaned forward freezing feeling his breath on your ear.

"I love your eyes as well." He whispered making your head jerk back looking at him "i...you..." you stuttered as the realization hit you "yes dear, there are times i can read your thoughts." He said as your eyes widened "h...how much is sometimes?" You panicked seeing him smile "well, it comes and goes, but depending on how...hard your thinking they make it through." He purred as you looked down, embarrassment flooding through you "y/n look at me...please." He whispered as you took a deep breath "Loki i..." you were cut off by his lips gently touching yours before he quickly pulled back checking gauging your reaction as you stood speechless. You must have taken too long to respond as panic flashed in his eyes as he slowly stood up "i...I have over stepped, I apologize." He said taking a step back, the loss of contact kicking your brain into gear.

"Wait." You rushed out fisting the front of his shirt you pulled him back to you, rising up on your toes your lips crashed into his, your other hand sliding across his side to his back pulling him closer moaning feeling his tongue slide along your bottom lip, his hand cupping the back of your head as you parted your lips hearing him groan as his tongue slipped inside tangling with yours. God his lips are soft you thought when you felt his hands slide across your sides to your back moving down his palms cupping your ass squeezing making you moan into his mouth as he lifted you up setting you on the table. Stepping between your parted legs he pulled back slightly as he kissed along your jaw, tilting your head back feeling his lips wrap around your earlobe "l..loki..." you moaned when his hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you towards him groaning feeling his erection press against your thigh.

God, fuck me..please fuck me you thought screwing your eyes shut feeling his teeth nip at your pulse point "say it." He growled, the husky tone of his voice making you shiver "w..what." you breathed when he pulled back looking into you eyes, his hand gently gripping your chin "I want to hear you say it." He growled his jaw clenching as he watched you with an intensity that sent electricity up your spine "i..I want..." you stuttered seeing his eyes darken "yes..." he encouraged rubbing his thumb across your lips "i...want you Loki." You whispered seeing him smile as he leaned down to your ear "do you want me to fuck you y/n?" He breathed as you gripped the table screwing your eyes shut "y..yes...please." You said, opening your eyes meeting his "norns..." he whispered as he lunged forward his lips crashing onto to yours, his hand going to the back of your head as he guided you down onto your back.

Arching your back feeling the cold wood through your thin tank top "I need to feel you...now." loki growled against your lips as his other hand slid up your side to the bottom of your shirt "as much as I love seeing you in my colors..." he trailed off standing up his hand slipped out from under your head joining the other, hearing a loud rip you gasped feeling the cold air hit your bare skin, looking down seeing your shirt ripped in half "gorgeous." Loki purred placing a large hand on your stomach, his finger tips ghosting over your skin as he slowly slid it up to the valley of your breasts gently pushing you back down. "One more thing." He smiled when you heard another rip, feeling your shorts and panties pulled from you. "Norns....you truly are magnificent." He purred as he wrapped his hands around your thighs sliding you to the edge.

"Loki...." you moaned feeling his clothed cock press against your core "I know my dear, be patient for me." He groaned lifting his hand a green light swept down across him, shivering feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance "are you ready love?" He asked making you look up, his smile melting your insides as his thumbs rubbed small circles on your thighs "y..yes....please loki." You whined laying back stretching your arms above your head "mmm....we'll have to look into that." He growled as he leaned over, his large body hovering over yours as he pushed his hips forward, stretching you slowly as he entered you. "Gods your...mmm tight." He groaned, bucking his hips forward making you gasp as he bottomed out.

"Holy fuck." You cried out digging your nails into the table as he leaned further over you, his eyes meeting yours "are you ok dear? Do you wish to stop?" He asked, concern lacing his tone as you stared up at him "God no!" You rushed out wrapping your legs around his middle, a deep rumble coming from his chest as he laughed "loki?" You asked wrapping your fingers around the end of the table "move...now" you demanded shifting your hips "as you wish." He growled as he planted one large hand next to your head, the other gripping your hip as he slowly pulled out, leaving only the tip in before slowly pushing back in.

"H...holy...." you moaned as he set a steady pace, burying his cock further inside you then anyone ever had God, he's ruined me you thought when he suddenly snapped his hips hard against yours jolting you up the table "that was the idea my dear." He growled "my cock will be the only one that can satisfy you." He said gritting his teeth as he slammed into you "Loki!!" You cried out gripping the edge of the table "the only pleasure you will find is impaled upon me as I bury myself in your perfect cunt." He said, his fingers digging into your flesh as he set a brutal pace, the table shifting under his thrusts as he consumed you. "F...fuck! Loki...ahhh....i.....im...." you cried out as his tip hit that soft spot deep inside you "are you going to come my dear?" He groaned, sliding his hand under your shoulder pulling you to him as his pelvis hit yours "y...yes....God Loki!" You yelled feeling the familiar tingle in your abdomen.

"Come y/n...come on my cock." Loki gritted as he thrust hard into you as your orgasm slammed into you screaming his name as he continued his unforgiving pace "w..whose cunt is this?" He growled digging his fingers nails into your shoulder "y..yours..." you moaned feeling another building "who....n...norns...who do you belong to?" He moaned screwing his eyes shut as you squeezed your legs around him "y...you Loki...only you!" You cried out as he bottomed out, holding himself there you felt him release deep inside you triggering a second orgasm as he slumped on top of you laying his forehead on your shoulder, his warm breath fanning your skin as you let go of the table, a hand going to the back of his head running your fingers through his hair, freezing feeling him stiffen.

Why did i do that...I shouldn't have done that you thought as you pulled your hand away "y/n?" You heard Loki ask but your thoughts drowned him out i....I should go...this was probably a one time thing... "y/n look at me." Loki's voice rang out again as you tried to slip out from under him what am I going to cover up with....I need to get back to my.... "y/n!" Loki yelled making jump, your eyes shooting to his "apologies, I did not mean to yell but you were lost." He said as he grabbed your hand helping you sit up "now, let me make one thing perfectly clear." He said raising his hand again, the same green light traveling across your skin as your clothes reappeared "you...are mine now." He said leaning forward "you are not a one night stand, you never were...you deserve much more then that." He said as you looked down fidgeting with your fingers "you deserved to be treated as a queen, a goddess...my goddess." He said brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face

"so y/n, will you alow me to take you out?" He asked as you looked up at him "m...me? You want to date me?" You asked laughing but seeing Loki looking more serious then you ever had "I um...I'd like that Loki, very much." You said seeing him smile "how about we go to my chambers and you put on one of your midgaridian films and we can talk more hm?" He asked making you smile "that sounds nice." You said sliding off the table as he held his hand out, placing your hand in his He linked your fingers together as he guided you down the hallway to his room "loki, does that mean your my...boyfriend?" You asked as he smiled down at you opening his door "you may call me whatever you wish, as long as you are mine." He said as he waved you ahead of him "I'll always be yours....my king." You said walking through the doorway "mmm....now that will get you more then you bargained for." He growled following you "oh, I'm counting on it." You smiled closing the door behind him.

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keeplcving · 3 months

Text

art deco.

(young president!coriolanus x young!f!plinth!reader)

summary: the president takes notice of Sejanus’ much younger sister, at one of his galas, and cannot let her go.

cw: plinth!reader, innocent!reader, virgin!reader, sejanus lives (and is still friends with coryo), age-gap (coryo is 28, reader is are 18), strabo is a shitty father, sweet!coryo (but only to you), heavy smut, creampie, soft sex, pet names (little one, little dove, darling, etc), cuddling, lmk if i missed anything!

Your eyes adjusted to the darkness inside the Presidential Mansion, a stark contrast to the still-setting sun outside. Your arm is tightly linked with your brother, Sejanus’ arm, as you make your way to the table. You don’t know anyone at this event, not really.

You’re far too young, the next youngest people at the gala are brother’s age, and even still, Sej is 10 years older than you. It makes you feel queasy, knowing most of these men in attendance are nearly old enough to be your father, and they are all staring at you.

Staring at you like you’re a fine piece of meat, and they’re starving for a taste.

You sit down next to your brother, and quickly survey the other guests seated at your table. Clemensia Dovecoat, Festus Creed, Livia Cardew, Persephone Price. All your brother’s age, no one younger. You want to shrink back into your seat, become invisible.

You have no idea why your brother invited you to attend this Gala with him, but you have a feeling it was not with the purest intentions. As you graduated from the Academy, both your parents and your brother were pushing for you to find a suitor, to further better the Plinth name. Frankly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to give a damn, you were far more worried about being successful at the University to find a husband.

“Hello.” A familiar, yet unfamiliar voice breaks you from your reverie. Coriolanus Snow, or should I say President Snow, you think. You couldn’t lie to yourself, he was a very attractive man. Having been very young when your brother began bringing him around to your family’s manor, you only had some vague memories of Coriolanus, however, he has been a close friend to Sejanus, so he’s been around your vicinity for years.

I wouldn’t mind marrying him, your thoughts betray every fiber of your being, who you are. You are an independent woman, you don’t need a man, you need to do well at the University, and score a job. Not fawn over the President of Panem. Oh well, you think, he wouldn’t want anything to do with someone as young as me.

“Hello, Coriolanus.” Your brother greets him warmly, then lightly touching your arm, “I don’t know if you remember my sister, Y/N, but I’ve invited her as my guest tonight.”

“Hello, Mister President.” You say, wanting to roll your eyes at the pomposity of the statement you just spoke. You quickly scanned Coriolanus, and you were not disappointed. Blonde hair slicked back, beautiful blue eyes, a tight crimson suit that perfectly accented the muscular frame you were sure was underneath it.

“No need for the formalities, Ms. Plinth, just call me Coryo.” He responds, giving you (and your body) a quick glance in return. You want to blush at his actions, but you restrain yourself.

“Then call me Y/N, Coryo, Ms. Plinth is much too formal for me.” You bite back, cracking him a smile. He returns it, before turning to your brother.

“Mind if I borrow your sister for a dance, Sej?” He asks your brother, missing the wicked glare that Livia sends you. You’re not sure why she’s upset with you. You knew the President was a single man, which was a rarity in the politicians in Panem. But, you’re no where near his age range. He wouldn’t want you like that, right? He would want someone like Livia, perfect and his age.

“Of course not, thank you for being so kind to her. She’s a little overwhelmed with the gala, as is to be expected. She’s never been to one this formal before.” Sejanus tells Coryo, and you smile weakly, standing up, wobbling slightly in the heels that were a little too high for you.

Coriolanus rounds the table, grasping your hand lightly in his much larger one, leading you to the dance floor in the center of the room. He circles his arms around your waist easily, and you reach up to circle yours around his neck. He begins swaying you gently in time with the music before opening his mouth to speak.

“I don’t remember Sejanus mentioning that he had such a beautiful sister.” He whispers to you, leaning his head down so you could hear his words. He was well over a half a foot taller than you, even with you in your heels. That thought was dizzying.

You blush in response to his words, ducking your head. But you don’t stay that way for any more than a moment, as he brings two of his fingers under your chin, before lifting your chin up, to meet his gaze. “I mean it, dove. You’re simply stunning.”

The flattery was almost too sickly sweet, but you relished in it. “Thank you, Coryo.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say, you had never been in a situation like this. Sure, the boys from the Academy thought you were pretty, but they were nothing compared to the President of Panem.

“You are very welcome, darling. Tell me, how old are you? I cannot remember your dear brother ever mentioning your age.” There it is, you thoughts begin ruining the moment, he will no longer be interested in you once he finds out you are so young.

“I just turned eighteen, I am set to become a student at the University in the fall.” You look into his eyes, expecting to see something, a wavering of interest, anything. But instead, you see nothing.

“I see.” Is all he says, continuing to sway to the music, holding you. His grip tightens lightly, as more people make their way to the dance floor, like he doesn’t want to lose you to someone else, some other man. Like anyone would dare attempt to snatch you away from the President of all people.

“I was expecting you to be a bit older,” He continues, giving you another look, throughly analyzing every part of your body, “Especially when Strabo mentioned to me a potential love match in his darling daughter.”

It’s like a bomb has gone off, shattering your world around you. Of course he wasn’t really interested in you, foolish girl, you think. It was set up, so you could finally find the suitable husband your father had been discussing since it had been deemed socially acceptable to do so.

“A potential… what?” You spat out, not harshly, just in surprise. You couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Love match, darling. But, you may be just a bit too young for me.” He tells you, shattering your heart just a bit. You knew he was too old for you, no matter the attraction you felt for him. Not to mention that your father was simply trying to better the position of the family name by attempting to marrying you off to him.

You weren’t sure what to feel. You wanted Coriolanus, in ways a woman of your social standing shouldn’t. Especially given the age difference that was present between the two of you, however, there was no denying his pure masculine beauty. There was still that thought in the back of your mind that by engaging yourself with Coriolanus, you would be pleasing your father and his wishes for you. In this moment, you knew everything you felt about Coryo would override the disdain you had for pleasing your father.

“I’m not too young.” You almost whine back at him, a light pout forming on your lips as you stare into his impossibly blue eyes. You didn’t want him to see you as too young, you wanted him to see you as just another woman. Who cares that he was nearly ten years older than you?

“Is that so, princess?” He chastises you jokingly, before continuing, “You said you were eighteen, right?” He waits for you to nod, then resumes, “Well, do the arithmetic, little one. If I am twenty eight, and you are eighteen, that leaves us with a ten year difference.”

“I don’t care about that Coryo.” You find yourself frustrated. You wanted him, especially after all of the praise he had given you. Right now, in this moment, the ten years between the two of you didn’t matter. “I find myself rather attracted to you.” You tell him, honestly.

“Is that so, little one?” He asks, smirking at your words. He knew he could mold you into the perfect little wife, so young, so innocent still, unlike the women his age, who already knew what they wanted and simply wanted him for the money and glory that came along with marrying the President.

“Yes, please. I want you. My father was right, about the potential love match. Please, don’t leave me to marry some other man that isn’t twice the man that you are. I know I am young, but that doesn’t matter. I’m old enough to know what I want. Please, Coryo.”

You beg him, not sure exactly why you wanted him so bad. You had just really met him after all. But he was so attractive, so powerful. Something about him enticed you, and you didn’t want to let it go before anything could even potentially happen, before you could see where it progressed between the two of you.

“If you’re so sure, little one. However, this is a conversation we should have somewhere more private, away from prying eyes.” He tells you, raising your hopes ever so slightly. He wasn’t outwardly telling you no, and that you were absolutely too young for him.

Silently, he seizes swaying instead turning you so that you are pressed tightly to his side, one arm firmly grasped around your back, the other arm falling to his side as he led you out the doors to the ballroom, further into the Mansion, and into what you could only assume was his bedroom, gently closing and locking the door behind him, not unnoticed by you.

He is silent for a moment, before speaking, “You mentioned other men. You are going to be mine, little dove. No other men matter to you. I’ve been aware of your age this whole night, and your father and I have been discussing this chance meeting between us for some time now.”

You want to feel disappointed, or disgusted. Your father and Coriolanus, going behind your back, planning your future without a say from you. Planning when you would meet, when would be the right time. You had so many thoughts swirling in your head, it was overwhelming.

“How. Long.” You spat out at him, visibly upset. You wanted him, sure. But if he had been going behind your back, and truly knew of you well before you knew of him, you weren’t as sure. It felt almost predatory, knowing you were barely legal.

“Just over a year, darling.” His words made you want to vomit. Before you were legal. Your father, planning a marriage to a man ten years your senior, when you weren’t even legally able to be married, or have intercourse. You started to sway on your feet, feeling faint. You couldn’t believe it.

Coriolanus reached out a strong arm, steadying you, before grasping your hand and pulling you to sit on the edge of the bed. With you sitting, and he standing, the height difference became even more pronounced. You had to crane your neck to meet his eyes, even when you did not want to.

“A year.” You started, thinking for a moment, choosing your next words carefully. “My father has been meeting with you for a year, to discuss marriage. When I wasn’t even legal!” You yelled at him from your seated position, not feeling stable enough to attempt standing.

“I know it’s wrong, little one. And I am sorry. I only learned of you not being eighteen last night. This entire time, up until last night, I thought you were already eighteen, or older. Your father never mentioned your exact birthday, only that you were of marriage age.”

Your rage for Coriolanus dissipated, the only anger that remained was for your father. You couldn’t take it out on Coryo, who didn’t know you were underage for most of the planning, not until it didn’t matter. He was just as innocent as you.

“It’s alright.” You kept your statement concise, not sure what else to say, without bursting out into tears. You could already feel them welling in your eyes, and you begged them not to fall.

The tears didn’t do unnoticed by Coriolanus, who looks taken aback at the thought of you crying. “Don’t cry, little one. It’s alright, I assure you. I am going to give you some space, and some time alone. You are to wait here, however. I am not forcing you, but I would prefer we continue this conversation when you are ready.”

He leans down, and presses a small kiss against the crown of your head gently before making his way toward the door, grabbing the knob.

“Wait,” You start, tears starting to fall at the thought of him leaving you alone. “Stay, please.” You beg.

“Sweetheart, I can’t. I need to give you space to think. I don’t want to force this upon you.” He tells you honestly, turning the knob.

“But why?” You state, petulant like a child. The child that you still practically are. “Just stay here, with me. I’ve already made up my mind.” You say, standing back up onto your feet, making the few steps to the door, grasping his upper arm gently.

“I can’t.” He says simply, not moving. He looks almost conflicted on right or wrong in this moment. Your lip begins to wobble, as you think about him leaving you.

“But why, Coryo? I already made up my mind. My father may have hid the truth about my age from you, but I want you. Please.” You plead with him, willing him to stay in this room with you.

“I’m way too old for you, my love.” Coriolanus stops turning the knob, though. Standing, waiting for you to speak again. He had to at least partially hear you out, and he wanted to know your rationale.

“And what if I don’t care if you are far too old for me?” It was your last feeble attempt at getting him to stay. If he wanted to stay, it was up to him now. You weren’t going to plead with him, he was a grown man.

“I can see how much you would prefer it if I stay.” He says with a sigh, pulling you into his arms, his warm embrace surrounding you with a feeling you had never acted upon before.

“Coryo,” You whisper, “I want you. I want you so bad.” His eyes widen in surprise at your words, confused on what exactly you meant by wanting him.

“What do you mean, little one?” He doesn’t get the chance to do anything but whisper back that sentence before you were leaning up on your tiptoes, and your lips pressed against his, hard. He doesn’t fight you, quickly kissing back.

He adjusts you so that your back is up against the door, and your fronts are pressed together tightly, without breaking the kiss. He runs his hand along the curves of your waist, before bringing his hands to cup your ass lightly. You let out a gasp, and he uses that to his advantage and slips his tongue into your mouth, tongues tangling.

He then drops his hands to below your knees, sweeping you into his arms, and carrying you back to the bed. He disconnects the kiss, with a whine falling from your lips, lightly setting you down on the bed.

“Are you sure, little dove? I can stop if you aren’t sure.” You appreciated his concern in this moment, but all you wanted was him. You vocalized that to him, and he smiled. He pulled you, so that your feet were dangling off the edge of the bed, where he was still standing. Getting down on his knees at your feet, he gently unbuckled the heel, and removed it from your foot, one foot at a time. As he removed the shoe, he ran a hand over the soft skin, before pressing a kiss to the sole of your foot.

He kissed his way up your legs, up to your thighs, being met with the skirt of your dress. He flipped the skirt up, over your hips, and met your eyes again as his hands made their way to the edge of your underwear.

“Still alright, little one?” He asked, thumbs in the band of the underwear, waiting for permission to pull them down. You nodded at him, with a weak grin. Coriolanus smiled back at you, before pulling the panties down your legs, over your ankles.

He spread your legs, so that your wet heat was visible to him. He grinned, before leaning down and licking a teasing stripe up your pussy, You moaned lewdly, legs closing around his head, locking him in place. He continued his broad licks, eventually moving to circle your clit until you were twitching. He stuck his tongue inside of your hole a few times, and that was enough. You gushed around his tongue, quickly becoming overstimulated and pushing his head away.

As he brought his head out from between your thighs, you noticed his face was covered in your juices, and you laughed. He cracked a smile at you, allowing you to breathe for a few moments together. He gently helped you to your feet, to your confusion for a moment, until he spun you so that he could unzip your dress.

Once you were fully bared to him, dress gently placed on a chair in the corner, he began to undress for you. The suit jacket first, then the button up, revealing his pale yet well formed chest that had you licking your lips in anticipation. His shoes were toed off, and socks removed too. He leaned in and kissed you sweetly before removing his slacks and boxers, cock springing up, very obviously hard, the tip nearly purple as he looked at you.

You felt intimidated. You were a virgin, and his cock was so long, and so thick. You knew it was going to hurt, and you hoped he wouldn’t let it hurt you too bad.

“Coryo,” You whispered, “I’m a virgin.” He stopped, and looked you directly in the eyes.

“That’s alright, little one. I’ll be careful, so so gentle. I promise.” He tells you earnestly, and you smile at him, nodding. You trusted him, he had never lied to you before, not willingly.

He gently pushed you back onto the bed, before climbing on top of you, his strong forearms next to your head. He grabbed his cock, positioning it with your hole, before gently beginning to push in.

You flinched at the intrusion, body wincing at the pain from his cock splitting you open. Tears sprung back into your eyes, and he stopped pushing in, giving you a moment to adjust. He kissed you, making out lightly for a moment.

“You can keep going.” You said, breaking the kiss. You hissed as he kept pushing, but eventually, he was fully sheathed inside of you, and the sting had dulled down to a pressure inside of you. You looked down, and you could see a faint outline of his cock on your stomach and you smirked.

“Look, darling.” You directed him to where you were looking and he smirked back at you.

“Look at you, little one. Your body is taking me so beautifully.” He responded beginning slow, thrusts in and out, keeping tempo.

“Please, Coryo. More!” You begged him, and he began thrusting faster, pressing into a spot inside of you that made you see stars. You moaned loudly at that feeling, his cock slamming into it every time he thrust back in. You couldn’t stop letting out little noises of pleasure, it felt too good. He let out little grunts too, praising you for taking him so well, being such a good little girl.

“Rub your clit for me, darling.” He directed you, breathing becoming heavier, thrusts more erratic. You could tell he was close, but you wanted to orgasm with him. You rubbed your clit harshly, moaning, and tightening around his cock.

“I’m so close!” You cried out, circling faster as he continued to pound in and out of you.

“As am I, little one.” He grunted back. “Come for me, darling. I’ll come for you.”

You allowed yourself to come, soaking his cock with his juices, and he spurted deep inside of you. He groaned as he pulled out, immediately missing the tight warmth of your cunt.

“You did fantastic, love.” He tells you, falling nearly on top of you, worn from the excursion. You gently scratch his scalp with your fingers, soothing him.

“I should be telling you that,” You laugh, continuing to massage his head.

“You are mine now, darling.” He grunts, completely blissed out, resting his head on your chest. “Age does not matter to me, little one.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling you.” You rolled your eyes, smiling at him. “I am to be yours, forever.”

“Mine.” He agrees. You don’t say anything back, basking in the afterglow. After tonight, you know that your future plans have shifted, and you couldn’t find it in you to care. You still had that independent woman in you, but now, with a powerful man by your side. You’d found yourself a wonderful man in the President of Panem, and you didn’t plan on letting him go.

#coriolanus snow fic #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x y/n

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downbadf0rficppl · 3 months

Text

someone's there

Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: When you walk home from the office, someone seems to be following you home. Your best friend is not happy about that.

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Stalking/Stalker-Ex BF, Domestic Abuse, Anxiety, Angry!Bucky, Protective!Bucky, Panic Attack

Repost

You stepped out of the office, pulling your coat tighter around you against the night. It was mid-November and New York was getting colder and colder every day that passed by. You were excited about Christmas - it was one of your favourite times of the year. The lights that went up from apartment to apartment, the tree and ice rink in Rockefeller center that you and your boyfriend - Nathan - visited every year, you and Nathan driving up to Boston to meet your family. Well, your ex-boyfriend.

You'd broken up a month ago. He'd been laid off about a year ago and taken up drinking to fill the time. Nathan was not a very nice drunk. He'd yell and throw things when he was angry, which was most of the time when he was drunk, and then beg you to come back, saying that he needed you and that he'd clean up his act as soon as he got a job. You had a well-paying job - secretary to the Avengers - but Nathan was always the higher earner of the two of you. You could hardly sustain his lifestyle on your job, but you stayed. Why? You had no idea.

Nathan was a smart guy, he got picked up by some major firm headquartered in Manhattan just over a month after he got laid off. He was back to his old routine of leaving the house at 6 and coming back by 8 - you hardly saw him anymore.

And much to your dismay, the drinking didn't stop. Sure, he slowed down. He couldn't risk ruining his reputation at his new workplace. So he limited the drinking to after work. But he never stopped.

The throwing vases became throwing punches, the yelling became constant threats, consoling words became consoling sex.

You did well to hide the new bruises from your colleagues, although your act was not good enough to fool everybody. You'd let your guard down in the toilet, rolling your sleeves up to wash your hands, just as Natasha Romanoff. Yes, Natasha Romanoff aka the Black Widow aka the world's best assassin.

She didn't mention it there, but you were called to a meeting with her soon after. She sat you down with a glass of water and asked you a simple question: "Are you safe?"

Your wide eyes and trembling figure gave you away.

Nat implored you to break up with him or to at least come and live at the compound for a while - just until you figured out what you wanted to do.

You turned her offer down, stating that you were fine. You'd be fine. She fixed you with a stern glance, but even Natasha Romanoff couldn't force you to do something you didn't want.

Bucky, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He'd noticed the bruises long before Nat had, and gone out of his way to try and make your life easier. He sent you less paperwork to file, fewer menial tasks to do, and even put in a request for you to be moved to the New York office. In his eyes that meant you'd be further away from Nathan.

The next week, you both moved to Manhattan.

The bruises started to get darker, and more visible around your body. You dropped the short-sleeved dresses and low necklines in favour of long-sleeved turtlenecks with trousers.

Bucky worried for you. The dark rings around your eyes, the ghostly pallor of your skin. He was determined to save you. The only issue was he had no idea where you lived. New York was a big enough place that he'd never run into you. He knew you didn't live in Brooklyn, but that was about it.

The night where it all came to a head was after a Stark Gala. There was a group photo, where Bucky's arm rested on your hip while your arm rested on his. Nathan was pissed. He'd been sitting on the sofa when you came home, the photo open on his phone and a half-drunk bottle of whiskey in his hand. He pushed you into a wall and slapped you, his rings cutting into your face. He yelled every manner of words in your direction, calling you a 'slut' and a 'whore', and telling you that you were worthless. You cried, fresh bruises forming on your neck where he gripped you and blood dripping down your face.

You took his berating for the next few hours until Nathan retreated onto the sofa, sitting down and muttering under his breath. You opened your mouth, trying to defend yourself. Wrong move. Nathan stood up, even more agitated than before. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey that was almost finished and brought it down on your head.

The next thing you remember was waking up to 4 white walls. You were in a hospital, your hand being gripped tightly by someone. You tried to escape from the vice-like grip when a thumb ran over your knuckles. You knew those hands.

"Bucky." You whispered, your eyes still adjusting to the light. Your voice was sore from disuse, but the way that Bucky's eyes lit up, you would have thought that you were singing a love song just to him.

The calmness in your heart faded as soon as your brain caught up with you. You tried to convince Bucky that he needed to go but he shushed you gently.

"Shh. Don't stress yourself out. You're safe. I promise." The red rings around his eyes gave him away. Bucky had been crying. Over you.

You held his hand tightly that day. And the day after. And even the day after that. You weren't sure if you would ever find the strength to let go.

By the time you were out of the hospital, you'd moved back to Upstate New York - Bucky had made sure that you would never have to set foot in the city again if you didn't want to.

You returned back to work as normal - the restraining order you had filed against Nathan made your mind rest easier. The whole team was happy to have you back and smiling again, but they made sure to check in with you a hell of a lot more than they used to. Clint would swing by with an apple, and accidentally leave it at your desk - the first time, you'd felt bad and tried to return it, but you quickly caught on to his tactics. Nat would bring up game nights and movie nights, begging you to come, even if it was just you both.

But most of all, Bucky. Every day, you'd wake up to a text from him, wishing you a wonderful morning and spewing some inspirational affirmations for the start of the day. He'd bring you coffee, made just how you like it, as soon as he was back from his morning run. He'd spent a while perfecting the drink - making sure it was exactly to your standard. He'd walk you to your apartment for your biweekly 2pm therapy sessions (that he'd set you up with after he had realised how much difficulty you were having sleeping), and then off to lunch at some random hole-in-the-wall spot that he knew you would love. He'd call you as you got home, making sure you got home safe, and then a goodnight text to fall asleep to.

To others, his persistent need to be around you would be stifling. But after 4 years of having your needs be put lower than the damn cockroaches in the walls, it was nice to feel wanted.

You set your life up - personal bank accounts, new social media - anything to separate that part of your life from your new one. You got a new phone (courtesy of Tony, who insisted on buying you the latest iPhone, no matter how hard you tried to convince him that he didn't need to do that because 'where on earth would you find the money to pay him back?' He scoffed at that, "I'm a billionaire hun, I think I can afford to buy my secretary a new phone). You went to get your haircut, the shorter length was something you knew Nathan would have hated.

You'd walked into the compound the day after you got it cut, worried that no one would like it as much as you did.

As soon as you made it to the kitchen, you heard a loud wolf whistle. Nat was sitting on the sofa with Sam, and they both cheered loudly as you posed for them.

Bucky's jaw dropped as he walked into the kitchen. You were still showing off for Nat and Sam - you hadn't seen him walk in.

He walked over, reaching behind you to get a pod for the coffee machine, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "Looking good, Doll." His hot breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine.

You smiled up at him, before grabbing an apple and heading back toward your desk. You glanced back at Bucky and your eyes drifted downwards to a very large and very prominent issue. You stifled a giggle before getting back to work.

You'd continued to tease Bucky for a while, inconspicuous brushes and a few comments here and there. Enough to make him flustered, but not enough to make him suspicious.

He continued being the perfect gentleman. Helping you when you needed him to, being there when no one else was.

You started your normal journey back home, getting out of the compound was sometimes a tedious affair because of the thousands of security gates between the compound and the outermost gate. Given that this is where the Avengers live and train, it's justified. Still tedious though.

It was a quarter mile from the compound to the bus stop that took you home - you didn't like driving, especially in the frost and the dark. You put your headphones in, picking back up on the podcast you started this morning. It was an interesting one - some new True Crime podcast that your best friend had recommended to you.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you walked through a dark and lonely street. You gripped your bag tighter around you and sped up. There was someone following you.

You glanced behind you, your eyes catching sight of brown hair and a blue t-shirt. It had Palm Springs emblazoned on it. Funny. You'd bought Nathan a similar t-shirt a few years ago.

You fished your phone out of your pocket, quickly dialing the one person you felt safest with.

"Doll?" Bucky picked after the first ring.

"Bucky, cred că cineva mă urmărește." You said, your voice loud enough that the other person could hear you were on the phone.

"Tell me where you are, Doll, I'll come and get you." You could hear Bucky pulling on a jacket and grabbing his keys.

"Umm, cred că sunt aproape de Joey's."

"The pizza place?"

"Da, îl văd de unde sunt." The footsteps behind you seem to be getting louder, but you forced yourself to remain calm, "Am să te aștept acolo. Vă rog să veniți repede."

You ducked into the pizza place, walking straight up to the counter. By now, you were sure of who it was - but Nathan didn't follow you into the pizza place. Maybe you were just overreacting. Joey's was mostly empty, with a few teenagers here and there - probably camping out after some house party that got shut down.

"Same as always, kiddo?" Joey asked, and you nodded with a slight grin. You and Bucky came to Joey's Pizza Place a lot - Bucky used to say that it felt like home. You were inclined to agree.

"No metal man with you today?" Joey enjoyed teasing Bucky. His dad, also named Joey, had fought alongside Bucky in the war. Joey had grown up on stories of the greatness of the Howling Commandoes and it had been one of his greatest pleasures to serve him pizza every time they came.

"He's coming - got caught up in traffic."

"Busy men, huh?" You giggled at that.

The door opened again. You turned around to find yourself face-to-face with someone you hoped you'd never see again. Nathan's sister.

"Thought I'd find you here, bitch."

June stalked over to you, her face filled with rage. She had been good friends with you before Nathan and your relationship started going wrong, but when you had confided your pains with her, she'd turned her back on you. Blood is thicker than water. She'd called you names before - filling your comments with every vile comment she could think of, texting and emailing you death threats, anything to remind you of just how broken and damaged you were.

Before you knew what was happening, her hand collided with your cheek. The whole place burst into action.

Joey jumped around the side of the counter as June hurled insults at your face.

You tried to push her away as she swung at you again, but her hand hit your shoulder.

Joey pushed you behind him, as one of the kitchen hands stepped out to pull June back.

A teenager was on the phone with the police.

You tried to cover your ears as the noise built in your head.

The door swung open, letting in a draft.

Boots on the linoleum floor. Familiar boots.

Sirens.

"We were in the neighbourhood, Sergeant." Something about a noise complaint.

A hand pulling you into a firm chest. Tears streaming down your face. Your favourite voice whispering sweet nothings, stroking your hair, begging you to calm down.

"You're doing so good for me, Doll, just keep breathing." Bucky's pulse was steady under your hand. Slowly, your breathing evened out and you lifted your head to meet Bucky's eyes. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around you to stop you from collapsing.

You stayed in Bucky's embrace while the police wrapped up - June was being taken to the local PD for the altercation and also driving under the influence. Bucky told you that Nathan had also been arrested for violating the restraining order. Your heart sunk.

"I'll never escape him, will I?" You whispered to Bucky, as you sat down in your favourite booth to eat.

"You can, and you will," Bucky reassured you, squeezing your hand in his.

You ate your pizza in relative silence after that - most of the shop had cleared out with the police. Joey gave you your pizza for free, along with a tight hug on the side. He told you that you'd always be safe in here, "although metal man seems to have that covered." Bucky glared at the nickname, making you both laugh.

You walked hand-in-hand to Bucky's motorbike - his fingers ghosted over the bruise on your cheekbone from the slap as he fastened your helmet on your head.

"It's nothing, Buck. I've had worse." Bucky gave you a pointed look, "Too soon?"

He threw his leg over the bike and you settled behind him, resting your cheek on his spine. "Forever is too soon for my liking."

You smiled at that and nuzzled further into his back.

"Where to madam?" He said, putting on an exaggerated British accent. You leaned up to whisper in his ear.

"Take me home, Buck."

fin.

buy me a coffee

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky fanfic #buckybarnes #bucky #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes comfort #bucky barnes #no y/n #bucky angst #bucky x y/n #tw panic attack #tw ab*se

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bi-writes · 3 months

Text

bestfriend!rooommate!simon finds out you've been lying.

more bff!roommate!simon (part 8/?)

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, mean!simon (verbally), size kink (simon can move the reader easily, described as much bigger), praise kink, the mask doesn't come off, oral (m!receiving), fem!receiving touching, cumplay, soft!dom!simon, reader uses simon to get herself off (because there is no universe in which simon doesn't return his girl's favor), pet names (including pet and kitty)

you lied.

if simon had his gloves off, his knuckles would be stark white from how hard he was gripping the mail in his hands.

neither of you had checked your mailbox in a while--simon had only returned a few days ago from the harsh winter of northern russia after weeks away, and you seemingly had been busy with work. so busy, simon noticed very quickly, that you spent morning to late at night in your red and white uniform, coming home in the dead of night just to crash and do it all again the next morning.

now he held all the letters in his hand. stacks of them, with angry red stamps bleeding into the white of the envelopes.

NOTICE

WARNING

PAST DUE

LAST NOTICE

he stopped breathing for a moment. he spread the letters out on the table, flipping through each of them. he didn't open them, of course but these were all your bills. cell phone, last month's half of the rent, credit cards, your name written on the back and ugly red warnings pasted over it.

simon had spoken to you while he was gone. he had called you once, twice at least, and all he remembered was your soft voice telling him you missed him, to be careful, that you screwed up a new cookie recipe that you promised you would perfect before he got home.

you hadn't said a thing. your voice had been even and gentle as always. your voice had been comforting, saying only encouraging words. if simon was honest, your voice put him at ease; you always told him something to calm him, something to uplift him.

"i'm so proud of you, simon."

"i hate that you're gone, but there's no one else that could do what you do."

"um...hah...love you. be careful."

you hadn't said a word. your voice didn't reveal an ounce of the stress and the weight that must've been hanging over your head. there was no falter in your words, no strain as you spoke. just pretty, perfect, beautiful you, easing simon's demons while you battled some of your own.

simon crumpled one of the envelopes in his hands. it was thick with papers, but he still forced it into a ball, tossing it back onto the table angrily. he gripped the edge of the table, white knuckling it until he heard the key in the lock.

it was quiet as you came inside. you shut the door and locked it behind you, setting down your bag and taking off your jacket. it was morning; you had worked the night shift. your eyes were drawn low, tired and a dull. you said nothing as you toed off your shoes, letting your sneakers settle under the table. it was then that you noticed simon just sitting there, still, with his hands folded in front of him.

and all of your bills scattered around him.

you sucked in a shaky breath, looking up into his eyes. they were trained low, on the letters surrounding him, but he glared, boring a whole through them. he didn't know where to focus his anger; you were precious, you could do no wrong, you were soft and warm and his, and it wasn't your fault that everything was so expensive, that you were struggling.

but it was your fault that you hadn't said a thing--that you hadn't asked for help.

"simon, i...i-i can explain."

"no. y'r not gonna talk, luv." you had never heard his voice this way. so low and gravelly, an eerie lilt to it that reeked of disappointment and somehow betrayal. "y'r gonna sit down. now."

simon roughly pulled the chair from beside him out, an unspoken command for you to take a seat. your bottom lip trembled as you slumped into the chair, watery eyes avoiding his.

"how long?"

"simon--"

you jumped as he slammed a hand down on the table. the entirety of it shook, the papers ruffling and the dishes clattering loudly.

"a few months! a-a few months, just--"

"no!" simon snapped. "y'lied to me. y'lied to me! i asked! how many times have i asked?! how many times have i looked you in the fuckin' eye and asked you if everythin' was in order, how many fuckin' times?!"

you couldn't keep it in. the tears were hot, running down your cheeks and putting salt on your lips and a dryness in your throat. you were embarrassed. embarrassed that you needed help, ashamed that you were being scolded like a child, afraid of his loud voice and his terrible anger and the way he looked at you. when you decided to live together, you weren't meant to be his burden. you didn't intend to be his problem.

"i-i'm sorry, simon--i'm sorry..." you met his eyes. "i'm taking extra shifts. i-i'm gonna pay the bills, i-i'm gonna make it right, i-i swear--"

"is that what you think this is?"

he narrowed his eyes at you, two dark slits, and then as if a switch flipped, it was gone. his face softened, his eyes widening, and the tension seemed to dissipate just enough to let you breathe a little easier. you couldn't decipher this change, and you couldn't read what was in his eyes, not this time. all you could was sit there and try not to let your cries make any sound.

"do y'think i'm angry because y'didn't pay? is that what y'think?"

you shook your head, shrugging, not understanding his question.

"what...what other reason is there, s-simon?" you hiccuped. "i screwed..." more tears, they wouldn't stop falling, "i-i screwed up, simon, i-i'm so sorry, i-i--"

you jumped when his chair screeched against the floor. he stood up fast, taking a step to round the table to crouch beside your chair. he looked up at you, making himself smaller, and you looked down.

"simon, i'm sorry--"

"stop! stop fuckin' apologizing, fuck," simon interrupted you. his voice was gentle, trying not to scare you, and you closed your mouth, taking in deep, shaking breaths to try and center yourself. "'m angry because you didn't talk to me, luv--" your face fell when he reached up, two gloved hands cupping your puffy cheeks, "--why didn't you say anything? why didn't you tell me? why didn't you ask me for help?"

you sniffled, reaching up and caressing his wrists gently. you played with the edges of his gloves, your fingers skimming the hem of his sleeves and just barely teasing the bare skin under it.

"simon...how could i?" you asked, as if it was obvious. "after everything that's happened...after everything we've been through...h-how could i ask that of you?" "how could you not?" simon spit back, and when you tried to pull away, he tightened his grip on your cheeks. "no, no--look at me--" he rose up on his knees, pressing your forehead to his, "look at me."

your expression was pained, struggling to do as he asked, but eventually your eyes fluttered, meeting his own, and he grunted as he gripped the back of your neck and held you there.

nowhere to go. nowhere to run. no one else.

"y'r not my problem. not my burden," he muttered. "y'r m'responsibility. mine to take care of."

"i-i don't want you to have to do that--"

"what the fuck do y'think this is?" he breathed. "what we have, what this is, this is forever, has that not gotten through y'r bloody head?" you whimpered when he shook you a little, his hand in your hair as he pulled it tight. "y'r as good as mine. not up for discussion."

you swallowed hard as his hands came down, wiping the tears off your face. he brushed your hair back and away, so he could see you, and you smiled at him sadly, eyes glossy and bright.

"'m gonna take care of the flat from now on, yeah?" simon murmured. "'m gonna take care of everything."

your body visibly relaxed. your shoulders fell, your body sinking a little more into the chair, and there was something sweet in your eyes--something hopeful. simon's tone was definite, and there was no room for arguing. you nodded finally, leaning in slowly, pressing a delicate kiss to where his lips would be under the mask. his thumb swiped over your cheek, falling to trace the line of your jaw, and then you both closed your eyes at the same time.

there was an understanding here. it was as if simon was washing you clean--something refreshing and warm and gentle running down the length of you, rinsing whatever was hurting you right down some sort of sickening void that had gripped you so tightly. and he did it so easily--he did it without even blinking.

and it was easy. simon never hesitated with you. his money rotted in an account anyways--it sat and stared at him, reminding him of the kind of hell he had gone through just to get it. it reminded him of the half of him that was someone, the half of him that he hated, the half of his being that came from a wretched, horrid, terrifying thing that manifested itself somewhere in his blood.

simon was half of something foul, and maybe he couldn't make up for the part of him that he didn't think was human, but he could make up for this, make up for you, make up for whatever half of you had left you here. because that was what you deserved--you deserved to be taken care of, you deserved not to worry, you deserved to sleep in soft sheets and eat until your belly was full and smile so much that your cheeks ached, and if simon had to become someone else just to give it to you, if simon had to die and come back again, then that was exactly what he would do.

simon had died once already. simon had seen it--seen how empty and unfulfilling and quiet it had been. simon had seen another side, and you didn't belong there. you belonged somewhere warm. somewhere a little noisy, a little bright, familiar.

it hadn't always been this way. when simon first met you, it hadn't been a good day--simon wore bruises, and you wore blood, and it was in that instant moment of understanding that made it clear you would be bound forever.

something invisible threaded you together. and simon had pulled himself out of his early grave, and after he had done it, you were the only thing that remained. and he hated himself--he hated himself for thanking some unspoken thing, because his entire family was gone, but you weren't gone, you were still here, there was still sunlight in your eyes and laughter in your voice and you were still warm.

it should've tasted sour to be grateful for it. he wanted to hate himself for this feeling. he deserved to die again and not return, but then he wouldn't get to see you anymore, and the selfish part of him, the other half of him, would never give you up willingly.

this love was visceral. this love was going to kill him. he was going to die with you on his mind, but maybe that would be the only thing worth really dying for.

because there you are. big, pretty eyes gazing up at him--fuck, why does she look at me like that?

why does she look at me like i mean something?

why isn't she afraid?

why can't i push her away?

what the fuck is wrong with me?

his beautiful girl. his pretty little roommate. the woman with flowers for eyes and silk as skin and a mind filled with starlight. the sweetheart pushing him to sit, forcing him backwards, getting on her knees in between his legs. and then her hands were on his thighs, sliding up against the rough denim as she laid one side of her face against it, those petals in her eyes trained on the way that his pants seemed to get tighter with every drag of her delicate fingers up his thighs.

and then she was pushing up his hoodie, exposing the relaxed muscle of his stomach, and then she was kissing it. soft lips warming the solid middle of him, a knowing smile growing on her face as she felt him twitch and jump and grunt. and then those beautiful eyes were looking back up at him, her neck tilted back as she undid his jeans and nestled the hem of them just low enough for her to reach in and fuck--

you knew simon was beautiful everywhere. you knew that there was no part of him that wasn't perfect. you couldn't remember being particularly religious, but kneeling in front of him felt like devotion--and you had much to confess.

he was thick, heavy, a weight in your hand that had you drooling without so much as seeing him. you were looking at the red tip of him with eyes half-lidded, and it took everything in you not to take him all at once. but this was simon, this was your version of perfect, and you needed to show simon how much you felt because words were not enough.

words would never be enough.

you started slow. you dipped your head, your eyes flicking up to watch him as you caressed the base of him with a wet kiss. you squeezed your legs together when you noticed his dark eyes roll back into his head for a second, a pained, pleasured reaction, and then you did it again.

a soft lick, the edge of your tongue sliding over a protruding vein on the underside of his length, and you closed your own eyes for a moment to revel in the deep groan that simon uttered. you sighed deeply, keeping your thighs squeezed together to relieve the sudden ache between them, before flattening your tongue and guiding it up his length. simon cursed under his breath, his hands gripping his thighs tight--but one of his hands flew to the back of your head when your greedy little mouth sucked the tip of him into your mouth.

you moaned softly, tasting the edge of him, something so simon and pleasant. a little precum, warm, flowing onto your tongue. you whimpered when you felt his fingers tangle into your hair, gripping you for stability as you sucked him in.

"christ, luv--" just the sound of him so pleased was enough to have you dripping, "fuck--'s so good, 's perfect--"

she was so beautiful. she was perfect. of course she would be good at sucking him off, of course she would have the prettiest tongue and the warmest mouth, and of course she would have one hand wrapping around the base of him as the other slipped between her legs--

"fuck--y'r gettin' off on this, yeah?" he grunted, his eyes flashing with something dark. "'f course you are, such a good girl--"

good girl, good girl, i'm a good girl--

just as slow as it began, as quick as you became. one moment you were cool, composed, watching simon's eyes and listening to his voice as you tried to memorize what pleasure sounded like when it came from him, and the next moment you were sliding him further into your mouth, drool dripping down your jaw as precum spread across your teeth. he was so big--so much to take, but the strain in your jaw tomorrow would have to be a welcome side effect to making lieutenant simon riley cum down your throat.

so sloppy, what a mess you were making. simon's hand now cupped the side of your head, your hair in some makeshift updo as he guided you along his length. the sounds were filthy--soft, slobbering noises as you took simon just a little further down your throat, your tongue being careful to tease the slit of him, slipping between the fold of it to illicit the most gorgeous of moans out of him.

"fuckin' hell--the mouth of a fuckin' angel--"

"such a pretty girl...such a pretty sight...makin' such a mess, sweetheart..."

"y'like it, yeah? y'like it...y'r so pretty...s'pretty, luv, nnngh--th's it, just like that--"

and now you were bouncing pathetically onto your hand. you pressed your hand into the floor, trapping your thighs over it as you tried desperately to grind down on something as you sucked warmly on simon's length. just as you let out a frustrated whine, simon's boot knocked your hand out of the way, slipping the steel toe of it right there, right--oh!

you cried out as the tip of his boot pushed right up against your cunt. the perfect spot, right against your aching clit, because simon never missed--simon always hit his target, whether it was between the eyes of some muppet who had his gun aimed at johnny or exactly where to touch his girl to make her drool. and drool she did--with her mouth stuffed full of him, with her slick wetting her thighs, with that look in her eyes that could make any man lose his fucking mind.

and simon was losing it, he was crazy. he soothed the back of your neck, grunting and hissing and wetting the fabric of his mask with the way he spat and cursed for you. but how could he help himself? the most beautiful girl in the world was on her knees, looking at him like she was at the alter. confessing her sins, receiving her absolution, taking every bit of it like the good girl she was, is.

he was so pretty. he tasted so good. you could only see his eyes, but it was more than enough, you didn't need anything more. the way he scrunched them open and shut, the low drawl of his voice as he said your name--he was perfect. his cock filled your mouth so nicely; he was using you, but you didn't feel used.

you wanted this. you wanted him. you wanted him to put you between his legs, wanted him to finally feel something other than that sick, twisted ache in his bones.

you lifted your hand, the one that had been buried between your thighs, and you cupped the underside of him with them. the wet, sticky warmth of your fingers had simon choking on a breath, hissing when you began to work the length of him that you couldn't fit in your mouth.

"jesus fuckin' christ--!"

his chest was heaving, rising up and down as he scratched at your scalp and cupped the underside of your jaw. then he bent low, smoothing a gloved hand down your throat, needing to feel the way it constricted, the way you swallowed, the feel of your skin and the vibrations as you whimpered and moaned around the thick of him.

you were suckling so sweetly, letting pools of drool and precum slip past your lips and drip along your chin, your hands, against his boot. simon was getting close--you could tell by the way he tugged on your hair and the faltering of his breaths. and he was talking--talking so much, blubbering.

"aye, sweetheart--th's it..."

"fuckin' hell...nnnghh...feel like bloody heaven..."

"...see you in m'dreams, luv...aghh! fuck--fuck, fuck, fuck--"

you didn't think there was anything more attractive than watching simon lose control. but you weren't doing much better. as you sucked the salt from his cock, you slid your hips over his boot to relieve the ache between your thighs even just a little. you thought maybe it was a pathetic sight, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. you fit your cunt right up against him, nestling the tip of his toes against your clit so you could rock back and forth, soaking the leather with you.

simon grunted, chuckling a bit to himself as you watched you suck a little harder, a little sloppier, move your hips a little messier. you were like a sweet, doe-eyed puppy--all big eyes and soft mewls and nothing inside your head except suck, suck, suck--

you whined when he came into your mouth. you held out your tongue, massaging the middle of his cock as he dripped along your mouth, your lips, under your tongue, against your chin. and like the messy little girl you were, you kept suckling on the tip until simon gripped you by the back of the head and lifted you up off the ground, grunting as he roughly manhandled you into his lap.

"little kitty can't help herself...what a fuckin' mouth on ya..."

and then his fingers were gathering the cum on your face and slipping it back into your mouth--just as the fingers on his other hand plunged inside of you.

he was deep, thick gloved fingers taking up even more space, stretching your pulsing, gummy cunt as you gripped his shoulders and cried. little tears coming down your face as you chased that blissful high, begging simon to give it, give it, you need it.

it didn't take much. just a few rough touches of your puffy clit, and you were soaking his gloves, whining as you pressed your cheek to his and mumbled how good he felt, how everything hurt so nice.

a pounding, aching thing that was gone in a matter of seconds, throwing you in a pleasure-drunk mood, with your head rest against his shoulder and your breaths coming out heavy and languid.

your eyes fluttered, but your vision was just clear enough that you could see simon lift the front of his mask. you caught the line of deep scar, something a healed and vicious against his pretty face. then it was gone, replaced by the sight of him slipping his gloved fingers into his mouth and sucking on them, pink tongue coming out to taste them as he slurped at the gooey mess you made on them.

you saw the slightest hint of a smirk before the fabric came back down again.

"'s alright, pet--" simon's voice was low, a drawl to it that made his accent a bit more pronounced. and just as your eyes fluttered shut completely--

"'m right here, kitty."

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