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miniwheat77 · 11 months

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Give into me. (König x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, rough p in v sex, unprotected sex, König manhandling reader a bit, lot of blood and violence, sex pollen, poorly translated german, (sorry if I missed any.)

This is NOT proofread because I am lazyyyyy. Hope you enjoy :)))))

Your boots make the faintest of sounds as you trek through the forest, it’s dense, the air is cool and it’s humid. It’s something you’ve never experienced before.

You weren’t exactly new to being in the military but you’d had little experience outside of the base considering there wasn’t much war going on as of late, which was a good thing. Until of course another country stuck their nose in business that wasn’t there’s and started one.

You’re in alliance with them, and have to come when they call for you. That’s what friends do.

So here you are, fighting in a war that isn’t yours. In unfamiliar territory. Terrified.

You’re standing close to your Colonel, the massive man is like a shield in front of you. He may be quiet, but he doesn’t hide very easily. He’s a stern man who doesn’t say much. But he offers comfort to you somehow. Being close to him makes you feel better. A whistle leaving his lips has you stopping right in your tracks. Almost running into him. He holds his hand up, motioning for everyone to stop. You don’t know how long you’ve been walking for, or where you’re even going. You’re frozen, and when the first shot rings out, you freeze.

König crouches down from the shots, retreating into the tree line and yelling orders, watching as his soldiers are taken off guard and ambushed. You’re closest to him, finally snapping out of it and jumping out of the line of fire. König grasps hold of your backpack, tugging you into him. “Stay still.” He breathes.

It’s silent.

Your entire group aside from you and König are dead.

You’re staring in shock.

“Konzentriere dich, sieh mich an” he reaches out, holding onto you. “Focus.” He says it again so you understand. “The only way we’re getting out of this alive is to be completely aware of our surroundings.” He breathes. You nod your head. His accent is strong and it makes your head fuzzy. You can hardly focus, ears still buzzing from the gunshots.

Your eyes trail to your mates, who are all dead now. It makes you sick, but this is the harsh truth about the military. You and König manage to slip away unharmed, creeping your way into their base where they are taking refuge. The only way to infiltrate and win is to be quiet and tactical. König’s stealth and ability to stay hidden surprises you. He’s clearly had years of experience. His heart rate stays the same, never elevates. He doesn’t even seem nervous.

Maybe this was the wrong mission for you to come along on. You follow behind him into the building, he’s equipped with a silencer and a knife, which is how he’s killing each of them.

You can’t deny it, and even in the worst time in the world to find someone attractive, he still is. He’s strong and smart. He’s good at what he does.

“Clear.” He mumbles.

You’ve got a knife in your hand. Covered in blood that may or may not be yours anymore. You don’t know. “They’re hiding something here. Time to find out what it is.” He mumbles. You nod your head, following behind him like a lost puppy. You decide you need to stop, show him that you can handle yourself so you branch off. Viewing a couple of the rooms. You don’t see anything, they look just like normal offices to you. Until you step foot into the last one. Your gun is raised, just in case. Pushing the door open. Your eyes widen. “Uh.. Colonel? I think I found what we’re looking for.” You say. He walks in, eyes going wide when he see it.

There are some rats and rabbits in cages, they’re still in tact but there’s something going on. You take a step closer, looking around. Noticing most of the rats have babies in their cages. You look across paperwork, trying to figure out what it is.

König opens up a filing cabinet, it’s full of small silver briefcases. He takes one of them out, opening it up.

There’s 5 small syringes in the briefcases. Bright blue liquid. “Looks like window cleaner.” You smile. Earning an eye roll from him. “You read anything?” He asks. “Reproductive drug.” You nod. He looks confused. “It’s meant to kick your reproductive system into overdrive, meant for people who struggle to conceive. There’s a lot of money in this.” You look at him. He nods. “verrückte Leute” he mumbles under his breath. “What happened to these ones?” He asks. There’s a few rats dead inside of a cage.

“If you don’t.. conceive. You die.” His eyebrows raise, but you can’t see it because of his mask. “Christ..” he mumbles. It’s silent.

Too silent.

A vent being kicked open from above has you both flinching away, hiding behind furniture in the room. You watch above, worried.

You hear the clinking sounds of something falling into the room, landing right in the center. It explodes and blue smoke fills the room. It sends you and König into a coughing fit, exposing you to the drug you’ve just looked at. “Fuck!” He yells. Drawing his gun and firing up into the ceiling. He hears something collapse up above.

“Bleiben Sie sitzen, Sergeant!” He yells. You know what this means, not moving a muscle. You don’t want to die today. Not like the others. Blood begins to drip from the bullet holes in the ceiling, becoming easier to see as the smoke dissipates. König had eliminated your assailant. You stay still, your body starting to feel warm. “Clear.” König says. “For now.” He breathes. He lowers his gun, fastening it back into its holster on his hip. His hands are getting more and more appealing as time passes. Your blood is pumping through you quickly, the only thing on your mind is what he must taste like. What his skin must feel like.

He snaps in front of your face. “Passt auf” his stern voice is enough to make your knees weak. “Sorry Colonel.” You blush, looking down. “We need to find an antidote. Look around.” He says. He’s starting to feel it too, but it’s moving slower through him because of his massive size.

While sifting through papers, your hands are shaky.

The throbbing between your legs is getting harder and harder to ignore and you’re getting distracted. Eyes following König as he sifts through paperwork.

You’re rocking your hips into the chair beneath you, the warmth becoming harder and harder to ignore. “F-fuck-“ you whimper, which draws his eyes to you.

They widen slightly at your appearance. You’ve shed a layer of clothing, all that was left was your shirt and cargo pants. The rest is discarded somewhere in the room. “Are you okay?” He asks. “No- need to find s-something.” A moan leaves your lips. “Anything.” You whimper. Sliding your hips forward again, body begging for some kind of friction. His pupils darken, feeling himself harden in his pants. He needed to find that fucking antidote. Now.

He’s sorting through paperwork, but not finding anything. As he reads across the papers, the only thing going through his mind is the both of you dying at the tail end of a success, he doesn’t want those soldiers dying in vain, for nothing. He stands up, maybe they needed to look in another room. “Come on, wir schauen uns woanders um” he mumbles, pulling you along. The warmth from his hand has your knees buckling again but you catch yourself as he pulls you along. You’ve lost every bit of control you have. You’re seconds away from shedding your pants and relieving the ache between your legs.

He pushes you back into a chair and you tilt your head back, groaning out. König is sweating under his hood, he’s rock hard. He’s desperately searching through paperwork, looking for anything.

Finally, he gets his hands on a paper.

He reads across the paper, but it’s too late.

There are stages to the drug, and you’re both already passed stage 2, which is when the antidote needs to be administered.

It’s fuck or die now.

König sighs. It’s the only choice the both of you have now. “It’s too late.” He breathes. “What?”

“I found the cure but it has to be given sooner. Too late.” He breathes. “So.. what does that mean?” You breathe. “It means.. we give in. oder wir sterben” he breathes. “Fuck..” you whine. You grasp the hem of your shirt, you can’t take it anymore. You need his hands on you. “König, please.” You breathe. “I know you feel it too.” You pant. He moves closer, kneeling down in front of you. “What do you want me to do?” He breathes. “Just..” you reach for his hand, placing it on your own thigh. “Please- fuck me Colonel.” You mewl, pushing your hips forward. He breathes. He chews on his lips nervously. If he does this, there’s no going back.

He pushes his hand up your thigh, higher. Feeling you tense up, pushing your hips closer to him.

“Scheiß drauf” they’re the only words out of his mouth before he closes the distance between the both of you, pulling you down onto the ground and pushing the chair back away from you. He hovers himself over you, tugging his hood off. Right now, he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was feeling how tight you’d be around him. He tugs his gear off, you start pulling the remainder of your clothes off beneath him as well. Once he’s got himself exposed enough, he’s burying himself into you.

The relief you feel seems impossible, it feels like fireworks are going off in your stomach.

You can’t stay still beneath him, squirming. You can hardly stay quiet.

Despite how desperate he was, König was still on high alert, which is how he managed to hear footsteps. He clamps a hand over your mouth, reaching for his gun. He halts his thrusts for just a second. You rock your hips up into him, he flinches at the pleasure. “Ah- Y/N. Stop it for a second.” When you don’t stop, raising your hips into him over and over for any friction, he groans out. “Verdammt, Liebling” he breathes, just then, a man steps into the doorway. His eyes going wide. “What the fu-“ König pulls the trigger before he can even finish his sentence, throwing his gun down and rocking his hips into yours. He grasps hold of you, lifting you up with him. He stands up straight with you. He backs you up into a wall, holding you steady as he he fucks into you harder. He can’t seem to focus on anything but you. Doesn’t care that he’s just killed a man while he’s buried deep inside of you, and it doesn’t seem like you care much either.

“So desperate.. didn’t even flinch.” He breathes. “dreckiges Mädchen”

He wraps his hands around you, squeezing you tight and holding you still as he rocks his big cock up into your weeping hole. You can’t stay quiet, whining out as he fucks into you. “Colonel, please-“ you whimper. “So so good.”

He bites down onto your shoulder, feeling you tense up in his grasp. Another string of moans leaving your lips. You can’t get enough of him, no matter what.

König feels like he could spend hours inside of you. Rocking his sensitive cock into your hole until neither of you can take anymore. Rubbed raw and sore from the friction. He’s getting close, he can barely handle it. He’s got to make you his. Fill you full of him. He grits his teeth. “Ah! Going to cum-“ he gasps. He sits back into a chair, and you lift yourself up onto him, riding his cock through his high. You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you move against him. He cries out, cock twitching hard as he fills you up with his cum. Gasping out at you overstimulating him. You keep riding him, desperate for your own release. He’s sensitive but he’s not the kind of man willing to deny you of an orgasm. Not like this. “Fuck- riding my cock like this.. like a fucking bitch in heat.” He growls. Rocking his hips up into you. Thrusting up as you ride him like your life depends on it.

“Nimm was du willst, I’ll give it to you.” He breathes. A cry leaves your mouth from deep in your throat. One last thrust up from him has you crumbling, sending you spiraling. It’s by far the hardest you’ll ever cum. You raise your hips up once more, sliding back down onto him and halting. Cockwarming him as you sit there, coming down from your high. His hands are still at your hips, gripping you. You’ve still got your head buried into the crook of his neck, panting into him.

When you finally pull away, getting a good look at him, you breathe out. “I’m sorry.” You blush. He smiles. “Nothing to be sorry for. Let’s get the hell out of here, talk later.” He breathes. His English is very blunt, but he’s trying.

You gather up all of your clothing and everything else you’d need, preparing yourselves for exfil. You didn’t know how this was going to work.

As you wait for the exfil chopper, he finally looks at you through his hood. Loving eyes glaring down at you. This mission should’ve never happened. But despite the death toll, despite everything that went wrong. The newfound feelings for your colonel. The baby that was most likely to come from this. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #könig x reader #könig #könig fanfiction #könig smut #könig call of duty #könig mw2

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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months

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DCxDP fanfic idea: Timeline Prevention Squad

Clockwork is trying to catch up on paperwork because even the gods had to do tedious work. He is flipping through pages and pages of time concerning reports when he stumbles across a particular request stuck between three old Speed Force crimes reports.

A request from Mordecai Wayne asking the time accident for help to his original time. It was filed through a ritual of one of his lost temples.

Clockwork gapes at it, suddenly realizing he forgot to follow up and had left Mordecai Wayne - better known as Bruce Wayne - to fling around the timeline.

Clockwork, when he was young, had allowed humans to set up temples and given them direct runes to send their burned parchment to him for requests. Initially, he designed the request ritual to enable humans to help or prepare for future disasters.

Give them a little warning in the form of deviation.

Then, humans turned it into trying to control the future. Or to change what had happened by having altered the past. They started thinking he would move the times to fit their desired outcome.

Tried to offer people sacrifices when he ignored the requests. Clockwork can watch the timelines like an observer over a parade, but humans put on the parade at the end of the day.

It was their free will that gave him a show. And it was this free will that cost lives that shouldn't have ended because of other humans' greed.

He closed his temples, scrambled his runes, and let his temples rot.

Clockwork thought he got them all, but he obviously left behind some crumbs of his old worshipers.

Those crumbs were enough for Bruce Wayne to painfully piece together and redo his ritual to send him a request for aid in his time placement.

He hadn't even read it, having flung it into one of his filing cabinets to look over later and... didn't.

Clockwork snapped his fingers, pulling up Bruce's timeline. He winces when he sees it too late; it's past the point, but luckily, Tim Drake pulled him out and brought him home.

People don't know that Clockwork can't undo timelines- he just makes new ones that stream off his intervention.

The most recent time he stepped in was with Danny Fenton in a universe created due to Merlin asking Clockwork to save his lover Arthur, and thus, certain events did not come to pass- like the finding of Gotham.

He rescued Daniel's family by freezing them just as the explosion happened, allowing the young hero to think his dark future had never come to pass. That was not true.

There is still a world where Daniel's family died in the explosion, and it existed right allowed side the one that they didn't.

He could do the same and step in to prevent Bruce from ever getting hit with the Omega Beams, but that would create six different timelines, which would be a pain to file for. Daniel was only two, and he-

Wait. Daniel.

That's what he could do!

He couldn't make up the fact Bruce Wayne got lost in time and asked for aid. But he could send compensation in the form of one eager gooddoer who would help him in his ultimate goal.

Make Gotham safe.

And who better than a child with a strong sense of justice and the power of a minor God?

After all, Bruce's request wasn't to get back home. He thought he was going to die from the overlapping beams. Bruce thought there was no more hope for him.

Instead his request was

Please allow me to ensure my kids are okay and will be alright once I pass.

He picks up his sticky notes, scrambling a quick message to Danny. He pauses momentarily, wondering if he should admit his mistake, but that would.....ruin his reputation.

He chooses to lie by omission.

Dear Daniel,

Please come to my Keep. I have a mission that requires your assistance in an alternate timeline.

You must help keep Bruce Wayne and his kids safe. Whatever the costs are, as is his request for aid from a higher being.

Daniel couldn't resist a mission that sounded like he was a hero, and it didn't mention who the aid was requested.

To ensure Daniel will never learn he will....tell him that the Waynes could never see Phantom or......or he be trapped there forever!

Yes perfect.

A few seconds after sending the sticky note through a portal, Clockwork senses Daniel pick up the note.

And suddenly, he sees events flash before his eyes. Scenes of Daniel following Gotham's hero. Rescuing them from their worst rouges while Bats. Circling through the nights to stop the more minor pity crimes that they were too exhausted to handle.

Enrolling into Gotham Academy to ensure their civilian safety and status. Getting close to the younger Wayne and even obtaining an internship with Tim Drake to help him at WE.

Then, Daniel gets more substantial and robust due to all the deaths that drenched Gotham. It would be just like a Kryptonian on a planet of a Blue Sun.

It would make him more robust than a yellow sun, and Daniel would flush there!

Clockwork smiles as the visions end. He did a great thing making this suggestion. Phantom will be fantastic in Gotham!

Now, hopefully, that pesky free will won't ruin his plan-

A vision of Daniel being worshiped as a Phantom as different Gotham natives start to believe him, and an unlock god appears.

Clockwork winces, but he figures if no human ever sees Phantom unless he is there for righteous heroism, he can understand why they were confused.

Which isn't so bad-

A different version of Daniel possibly appears in the future. This one shows Daniel in a bright red suit at WE with Tim Drake hyperventilating not too far away. Apparently, he suspects Daniel of being Phantom, but his hormones are getting in the way of his logical thought.

This wasn't so bad as it wasn't a cult. It was just risking Daniel's secret identity. Then again, he could honeypot his way out-

A different future appears. One where Daniel accidentally convinces the Bat children that he's stalking their Father. They think Daniel fancies Bruce Wayne, despite the alarming age difference, and try to block him at every turn.

This is okay; there were different outcomes, but nothing bad.

And it's already been done. He can't change the past, not without making more timelines.

He sighs.

Hopefully, this will all work out. Somehow.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Timeline Prevention Squad #Clockwork send Danny on a fake mission #Danny takes it very seriously #a whole new dimension for him to play in?#yes please #There could be so many outcomes that Clockwork can see #some are crazy

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mo0nfairy · 1 year

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ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART TWO !

summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 5.8k

content warnings :: mdni! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, sexual themes, stalking, gore, nightmares, weapons, breaking and entering, drugging/drug mentions, nudity, kidnapping, noncon touching, jill is a greasy rat basically lol.

jill valentine's yandere traits are . . .

possessive, dominant, & stalker

──── Jill Valentine hates the taste of coffee. Yet still, her kitchen cabinets are full of it.

Littered around her apartment, there are mugs stained with days-old coffee. The caffeinated scent clings to the walls and makes her stomach coil. A mess of documents sits on her cluttered desk. The October wind whistling through the window sends a few pieces fluttering down to the dirty floorboards. 3:57 AM is read on a digital clock in its neon red hues; the flickering lamp light on the desk illuminates the mess of broken pencils, coffee stains, and case files. With an accelerated heartbeat and heaving breaths, Jill hastily analyzes the CCTV footage on her jagged laptop.

Every person, every street sign, every single pixel on the screen. Maybe, just maybe, she'll find you among this mess.

Other tabs display missing persons' documents, reports from private investigators, and checkpoints on satellite imagery. Ms. 'I don't mind a little detective work' has spent every day of the past six years doing this exact thing. Weaving through any bit of information and manipulating every resource she could get her hands on. Everything she does is to try and find the one thing that matters more than anything to her.

Y/N L/N. The name she will never forget.

Jill remembers your sultry body, your delicious gratitude, your sweet blood staining her clothes; she will never forget how you sparked the beginning of her life in Raccoon City. She will always remember how she didn't know what emotion was until she met you and how Raccoon City was the best night of her life because of it. A raw flurry of fuzzy, warm feelings embraced her, as well as the cold fingertips of rage, envy, and fear. It was messy, but it was so, so beautiful.

There is nothing now.

Her worst fear had come alive. To continue to live every day just for the sake of living while desperately trying to fill the empty void within her — it had all come back in a flash. Just when she had wrapped her fingers around happiness, it was torn from her grasp like candy from a baby. And if you had asked where Jill thought she would be six years after that night, the image she would paint for you would be far more illuminative than the life she now lives. A rundown studio apartment infested with rats and cockroaches, but she'd be able to endure any germ-infested danger with the light of her life beside her. Every day would be spent deconstructing your facade and dissecting the beautiful person you are; every day would be spent dragging her fingertips along every inch of your body, blithely taking note of what makes you blush and squirm.

She would be happy. And you would be, too.

Jill is now stuck in a cave. Adorned in darkness and devoid of life. In a city she doesn't know, becoming a person she doesn't recognize — she can't fathom how disastrous her life had become since she lost you. She can't fathom the idea of you not being here with her, to begin with.

Skimming through the fatuous clues laid out before her, Jill takes a peek at the satellite imagery in one browser and something catches her eye. A habilitation, of some sort. Located in the middle of nowhere, overwhelmed with heaps of endless trees. She searches for any further information regarding this strange building, only to find there is no trace of this place even existing. It is certainly odd, yes, but does not relate to you in any shape or form. With that, she lets her curiosity go and occupies her time with more productivity.

Another hour drifts by. Waiting for a returning email from one of the numerous private investigators she hired, Jill reads through medical records in hopes of finding anything reminiscent of you. Maybe by some brush of luck, you'd still be treated for your broken arm six years later. However, this mysterious building still fogs up her mind. How could such a large structure be built with not a single trace existing? Surely, someone would have stumbled upon the property by now, right? Snuffing out her pride, Jill gathers the coordinates and sends them out to Tyrell. With his technology skills, he may be able to uncover something about the strange place. Even though Jill knows in her heart it's nothing but a dead end, it's still something, nonetheless. And after all this time of relentlessly doing the same thing over and over again, she has become desperate.

A sudden flare of lethargy envelops Jill. With her persistent intake of caffeine, this isn't anything abnormal. She's prone to just crashing at her bed, her desk, or sometimes, even onto the floor. With drooping eyelids, Jill folds her arms on the table and rests her head against them. There's no harm in a little shut-eye, right?

What she didn't expect is to be abruptly woken by a gentle tap on her shoulder. And she most certainly didn't expect to find you standing there beside her. Saccharine-sweet smile, skin clean of any zombie-induced grime — you're at her side wearing an old S.T.A.R.S. hoodie with your upper thigh peeking out of your sweatshorts (inevitably sending a flare of heat to Jill's core). In your hand is a cold beer, a prize for Jill after the hours of hard work she has endured at her desk. And she is just in pure awe at the sight of you. She discards the beverage in favor of pulling you into her lap. You swing your arms around her neck like a newlywed bride with that damned, heart-stuttering smile of yours growing from the sudden act of affection.

Jill's eyes peer down to your hips. Her rough fingers fidget with the elastic band of your shorts, subtly asking you to let her hands wander further. Her touch wanders beneath the hem of the ragged sweatshirt you were wearing. When her hand makes contact with the warm skin of your stomach, a gasp escapes her chest at the intimate contact. You gently place your soft hand atop hers, causing her vision to go hazy with clouds of lust, devotion, and rapture. You're here; you're alive. Her sweet, adoring, blue butterfly has returned to her and Jill can't handle the sheer euphoria that comes from the revelation.

It isn't until she feels your chest begin to stutter from silenced coughs does she finally return her focus to your face. Only to find your eyes had gone milky white, your skin growing purple in rotting hues, and decomposing gashes opening themselves all over your body as they gush out with puss. The wheezes protruding from you accelerate into harsh gags. A splurge of red-hot blood then spurts from your mouth and onto Jill. She has no time to revel in the burning fantasy of being covered in your bodily fluids, she can only stare in complete horror at what has befallen her beloved. You then push yourself off of Jill, to where you begin convulsing on the ground like a dying insect. It is horrifying. And to suddenly be without your touch after so long of hungrily basking in it — Jill hates to admit how badly it hurts her.

A sharp cry accompanied by a horrified gasp permeates the lonely air. Reality suddenly washes over her and Jill buries her face into her hands with a sigh of defeat. Another nightmare. Another fucking nightmare of millions. She should've known it'd be too good to be true; she should've known that a perfect life with you by her side was nothing more than a fantasy. And God, does it fucking kill her.

Stepping away from her disordered desk, she walks to the dresser sitting on the other side of the room. Jill digs through the unfolded mess of dirty laundry until she's finally able to dish out what she intended. The old S.T.A.R.S. sweatshirt you had worn in her dream. Despite the loose threads protruding from the hems and gaping holes littered against the fabric, you made it look like a piece of high fashion etched with velvet and silk. She wraps the article of clothing around her figure and snuggles into the article, pretending it's you she is holding in her arms. Jill then crouches down at the foot of her bed, plucking out a dilapidated shoe box from underneath. Inside is a singular item that has and always will remain the most important object Jill has ever possessed.

A bloodied bandage. Covered with dirt and riddled with age, this singular bandage was what she had taken from Kendo's first aid kit six years ago.

She remembers how your skin felt beneath her as she wrapped the bandage around you; she remembers how she slyly slipped the garment into her pocket when Carlos was caught up in tending to your broken arm. Jill presses the bandage to her cheek, pretending it's your comforting hand against her face instead of some tattered piece of gauze. If only she had known what the future had in store for her that night, she would have never let you step foot onto that train. Hell, she would have never let you step foot out of her sight ever again. Until the end of time, however, Jill will continue to search the world over and over again to find you. You are the only thing keeping her alive, after all.

The quick tune of an email alert brings Jill out of her lovesick, grief-burdened daze. She discards the precious cargo in her hands back to its home beneath her bed, then returns to her desk. In the three hours Jill had been knocked out cold, Tyrell had managed to bypass the security system that was "a bitch to get through" (his exact words). In the email, he provided several files that contain security system footage from cameras scattered around the area. Feverishly, Jill double-clicks the links and analyzes the pixelated footage. She knows what she is looking for, and despite the voice of logic on her shoulder whispering of what a waste of time this was, she still persevered.

A hallway filled with bustling doctors, a garden filled with meditating patients, and a cafeteria swarming with warm food and activity. Lastly, the final file shows a library. Unlike the others, the peaceful environment was scattered with little activity. The only form of life in the room was a few faces around who had their noses buried in books. A figure then ventures around the corner of a bookshelf, a stack of books held tight to their chest. Through the mess of pixels, a familiar face comes clear into frame.

You.

Something bright fills her chest. Hope, relief, elation. It bubbles in Jill's heart and paralyzes her entire body. The only thing she can do is stare at the screen with her jaw on the floor. You are her butterfly, beautiful and fleeting. She's been nothing but a worm trying to squirm its way through the soil and into the sky. Now, however, she can finally hold your hand in hers; she can finally fly with you at her side. Her teeth chatter behind her smile as she leans closer to the laptop, watching intensely. You merely bring the collage of books to a lone couch and flip open the page of a new book. Little do you know the sheer effect such a mild action would do to the woman you presumed to be dead. Her thumbs grasp the corners of the monitor, caressing the surface as if it were your skin beneath her.

"I found you... I found you...!" Tears seep from her eyes uncontrollably. Finally, this void within her is filled.

Pure laughter, a sound she hasn't expressed in years, bounces from her tongue with glee. It's as if a symphony of angels had invaded Jill's apartment, pervading the lonely silence with euphonious melodies. They sing and cheer for her success, promises of a new beginning filled with light and laughter tumbling from their lips. It appears as any other CCTV footage you'd see, but to Jill, she has never seen anything so breathtaking, so magnificent. Jill rewinds the footage for what may be the umpteenth time, just to ensure this wasn't another dream she'd inevitably wake up from. Fortunately, it is the truth. And she can't refrain the pure joy from escaping her body.

Despite her heart pulling at her strings in an attempt to give in to her desires, Jill knows she must learn more before she can finally get you back. As desperately as she wants to storm the place, guns-a-blazing and all, being messy with her efforts may send her back to square one. Alone, without the one she loves most. The thought itself sends a cold shudder down her spine. She pours herself another cup of coffee. This will be the last one, she guarantees. From thereon, Jill begins her research into this lion's den. Located directly in the middle of the woods, this mysterious habitat began its organization exactly six years ago. Mere months after the incident in Racoon City, to be precise. With a few more hours of digging, the truth practically slaps Jill across the face.

This "sanctuary" is just a facade for Umbrella.

Even after all these years, that damned corporation still has its bloodied claws sunk into every fraction of Jill's life. They had been keeping survivors of their personalized epidemic safe in this establishment, under the guise of 'healing them through these tough times.' In reality, it was to ensure they kept their mouths shut and Umbrella's mistake could be safely swept under the rug. Seething with rage, Jill asks herself: why not me? Why am I the only exception? The last thing she could ever want is to be held captive by Umbrella of all people, but to be locked up with you? That's a different story.

It doesn't take long for Jill to connect the dots. Her occupation gave her that extra layer of protection against Umbrella. So, she remains untouched. However, with your job as a cashier at a gas station, you weren't as fortunate as Jill. Otherwise, you and she would have spent every day of these past six years at each other's side in euphoric harmony. Jill is sure of it.

The sun begins to set after a long, exasperated day of breaking the immeasurable walls Umbrella had built to protect their precious organization. Jill, heavy-eyed and exhausted, has finally concluded the great mystery that is your disappearance. She takes every penny of her rent money and urgently gives it all to Tyrell in exchange for more security footage. When asked about her desperate efforts, Jill makes the excuse that it is the location of a potential crime scene. And in a way, she isn't wrong. It is about to be.

With footage from every camera of the past month (as well as some good spank bank material for later on), Jill has a firm layout of every nook and cranny within the building. She fawns over the videos of you meditating in the garden and reading the hours away in the library. She also tenses up with jealousy over the clips of you laughing with your friends in the cafeteria and bonding over shared experiences in group therapy. It should be her you're doing all these things with. With a pout, Jill then plans her route on retrieving you. Although she has enough anger within her to tear the entire premise asunder, she is humble enough to recognize the extensive security is out of her element. After hours upon hours of trying to find the best way to carry out her plan, Jill accepts defeat.

As much as she wants to, she cannot do this alone. So, she contacts an old friend.

A simple email that reads "I found them" and Carlos Oliveira is at the door of her apartment within hours. His face sheen with sweat, hands trembling at his side, eyes blown wide in crazed worry. God, it's almost like he ran the entire way here. It isn't until Jill sees his face does the all-too-overwhelming revelation settle. It's time to finally get you back.

Deep in the middle of the woods, Jill and Carlos have nothing but the brimming sunset and heavy-duty flashlights to illuminate their path. A maze of trees and tight security kept the establishment well hidden from any wandering eyes. With swift movements from the two military-trained individuals, they were able to pass all barricades with ease. Out of sight from any cameras and wandering security guards, Jill and Carlos soon make it to a single window that has been left slightly ajar. It was your attempt at enjoying the last gusts of seasonal warmth before Winter arrives. A tame smile forms on their faces at the prospect. You'll be able to enjoy every season forevermore with them at your side. Whether it is your skin glowing beneath the warm haze of summer's heat or cozying up with the other during the harsh chills of Winter. They'll make sure everything is perfect. Just for you.

An ear-piercing screech pervades the late October air as Jill pries the window open. They cringe, wait for the other shoe to fall and bring this plan to its fateful end. But, there is nothing. No blaring alarms there to jeopardize their schemes, no wonderful, perfect you there to run into the arms of your surprise guests and drown them in kisses. Nothing. Continuing attentively, the two manage to slip through the window, where they then find themselves in your bathroom.

Jill and Carlos become entranced with the mere sight of your bathroom and the utilities within. Rested by the sink is your toothbrush, sat beside a tube of toothpaste and accompanied by a clutter of skincare products. Jill shakily brings the brush into her hands, fingers hovering over the bristles with belated breath. Your teeth, your tongue, your spit. Your mouth has been on this item and Jill salivates from the idea alone. Before she can quaff out every bit of you she can garner from the toothbrush, she snaps out of her fantasy and shoves the brush into her pocket. For later use, she assures.

Carlos, however, is trapped tight in his own daze. By the shower, a cluster of damp towels had been leisurely swung upon a towel rack. He takes one into his hands, shivering at the idea of this cloth once making contact with your nude body. Squeezing, the water that seeps from the tight contact and down his fingers causes a pool of vehemence to form within him. Lips trembling in response, Carlos then brings the towel to his face. His warm breath wafted back onto his face as he heavily inhaled the scent still lingering upon the fabric. Oh, Y/N, how he worships you. Carlos imagines how your scent would sit in your body while he drags his lips among the skin of your chest, your stomach, your thighs, and then your-

A harsh smack to his arm brings his thoughts to an abrupt, depressing halt. Just when he was about to indulge his tongue in the taste of what was once on your wet body, Jill had to go and ruin his fun.

The dulcet tune of humming diffuses through the area like a soft fragrance. Whatever libido-stained hysteria these lovesick fools had found themselves in faded away as quickly as it came. Jill feels her heart bloom like a spring flower — your voice. One of your most important attributes her deadbeat brain had so frivolously forgotten. It has finally returned to her. And the way you fill the air with such heavenly sounds is something straight out of a fairytale, the two think to themselves. Like a siren, leading the people who love you more than anything to their inevitable demise. And if they're being honest, the sight of you after six years without you may kill them with its sheer force.

In a way, they were correct. Jill takes a step out of the bathroom and into your kitchen, peering around the corner of a wall to find you on a couch. Your back to her, headphones nestled on your head and book held tight in your hands. Nothing could have prepared her for such a heartwarming, yet gut-wrenching sight. Nodding your head to the tunes blasting in your ears, foot tapping in rhythm against the floor. God, how much more beautiful could you get? How much more can you do to Jill and her sanity by simply existing?

With a deep, shaky inhale, Jill continues with the plan at hand. She tiptoes past the threshold of your living room and ventures further into the kitchen. With gentle, yet expeditious movements, she opens every cabinet and searches through for anything of importance. On the very edge by the stove, Jill opens the cabinet door and finds shelves full of jumbled mugs and different tea flavors. Taking a paranoid glance behind her, she finds Carlos peering around the same corner she had stood behind moments before. And the man is just relishing in the pure sight of you. His eyes drooping and coated in a dreamy luster; his mouth hung agape with the corners curling into a weakened smile. She'd say how pathetic he looked if it weren't for the fact she was in his exact state just seconds ago. With a roll of her eyes, Jill returns to her work in your kitchen.

How clueless you are to what is happening just over your shoulder. Who knew that you catching up on some late-afternoon reading could conjure up such staggering emotions within Jill and Carlos? And who knew that the two people you presumed to be dead had crushed up sedatives and hid them in your teabags?

Mere minutes go by as the two reside in your bathroom, waiting for you to unintentionally complete the next part of their plan. The creaking sound of a door opening halts their enthusiastic exploration of your bathroom. A voice, one that certainly does not belong to you, pervades the air of your home. Apparently, you and this stranger have some plans to go stargazing? Jill and Carlos give a confused, knowing look to each other. Who the fuck is this? Jill buries her unkempt fingernails into the palm of her hand. Clenching her fists inevitably causes moon-shaped scars to form. They're mine, they're mine, they're mine. Her nails soon break through the skin, to where blood oozes into her hands. It seeps down her wrists and onto the white tiles beneath her boots. The faint drum of your footsteps prevents her from acknowledging how she has left a trace of her behind.

Through the crack of the door, Jill finds you entering the kitchen with a thick blanket draped upon your shoulders. Like clockwork, you tread to the cabinet at the far end of the room and begin to make yourself a cup of tea. For the second time that day, Jill gives a harsh smack to Carlos' arm to stop him from inhaling your towels like a depraved junkie and pay attention. The two now watch in trepidation and enthrallment as you go about your nightly routine. Sitting at your rickety kitchen table, watching the kettle steam upon the stove, strolling down memory lane. How can you be so perfect in such simplistic ways?

You inadvertently shape your future by placing the tea bag into the messily painted mug made for you by one of the younglings who survived Raccoon City. A fond smile grows at the thought of them while you pour out the boiling water. You have absolutely no clue what is in store for you by doing this. And to the people standing in your bathroom, it is so endearing.

Taking a small sip as you walk back to the table, a sudden wave of fatigue crashes over you. Your vision doubles, overlapping every perceivable object in front of you into a blurry, distorted mess. The mug falls from your weak hands. It shatters against the floor and the sound reverberates like a blaring alarm. You hear muffled voices, a sharp ringing, and your own panicked breathing. What the fuck is going on? Once your vision goes black, you can barely feel how your numb body splats against the ground. Your hyperventilated gasps decelerate into tame breaths when oblivion finally welcomes you.

The only thing you can do is lay here and hope that when you wake up, whatever welcomes you isn't anything reminiscent of the nightmare you faced six years ago. You hope so.

There are black holes in your memory. Collapsing in your kitchen to being nestled in the backseat of a car. Trying to piece together this puzzle was nothing short of a pipe dream. When you wake, however, you find yourself enveloped in a strange sense of warmth. The senses in your body awaken from your head and travel down to your toes. Almost as if it was rain cascading down a window; as if it was a teardrop coursing down your cheek. From your waist down, you can feel how your nude body is submerged in warm water. You inhale and are overwhelmed by the stench of body soap that perfumes the humid air. Candle lights flicker in their calm hues and bounce against your closed eyelids.

In an attempt to thrash around and escape whatever has taken you from the safety of the sanctuary, your body fails you in your attempts to move. You are completely and utterly paralyzed, much to your dismay. The only control you can accumulate is nothing but a choked whimper that you push out of your throat. The immediate cooing that purrs into your ear from someone behind you causes your blood to run cold. You then sense how your back is pressed against someone's naked chest. The strands of their choppy short hair stick to your sweaty face. Hot breath fans against you as they press long, gentle kisses to your neck.

A bathtub. That's where you have found yourself in. It is romantic, in a disturbing sense. You could almost be convinced this was nothing more than a fulfilling Valentine's Day. A pair of scrawny arms then tighten themselves around your form with possessive constriction. Their chapped lips trail down to your shoulder; their wet tongue adorns the expanse in an array of affection. The intimacy sends a shudder down your skin. Calloused hands grope your chest and indulge themselves in the feeling of your flesh touching theirs, seemingly drunk off of you. The graze of their jagged teeth against you causes a gasp to escape you. A hum of quiet laughter vibrates in the chest of your assailant in response.

"My butterfly, you have no idea how long I have dreamed about this..." The soft tone of their voice lulls you back to sleep. This is getting old, you think once more before unconsciousness envelops you once again.

Jill simply cannot believe it. At this moment, you are here, alone with her. She couldn't imagine a better fantasy if she tried. And in a way, the effect your mere touch has on her made all six years of suffering worth it. Only now, she can scrutinize you completely and thoroughly. As opposed to the zombie-induced nightmare being the only contact she had with you. And your physicality has haunted Jill. She traces the jut of your cheekbone, the curl of your lashes, the texture of your lips. More importantly, she indulges her greedy taste buds in the taste of your mouth-watering skin, your delicious sweat, and your candy-sweet saliva.

Your flavor — never has Jill known she could be transported to such paradisiacal heaven. And never has Jill known she could ever be so... vulnerable.

Vulnerability has always equated to weakness in the eyes of Jill for as long as she's been alive. Trying to swallow the lump in her throat and constrict the overflow of bottled emotions these past six years are certainly no strangers to her. Raccoon City, however, opened the floodgates to a tsunami of revelations. To bask in emotion, to revel in you. Most importantly, to feel you here with her right at this moment. She can discard the facade of a cold heart and thick skin, to where she can embrace the exhilaration that follows with your presence. There will never be a second where Jill isn't thanking the universe profusely for such a wondrous gift.

As much as she disdains the idea of breaking contact with you, the hour spent in such stifling heat would not be good for you. And the prospect of your deteriorating health causes her to persevere through her selfish desires. This doesn't refrain her from being a little too touchy while drying off your body, though. Jill then dresses your unconscious form in a fresh, newly bought pair of fuzzy pajamas (despite the incessant suggestions from Carlos to please have you wear his clothes). The sensation feels like a cloud against your skin that had just been massaged with warm water, loving hands, and ambrosial lotions. So cozy, so cuddly.

With easy effort, Jill nestles you into bed. The late-night brume and heavy rain complement the tranquility within the room, naturally soothing you into a deeper sleep. She then presses a long, sweet kiss to your forehead, whispering a promise of returning soon.

Her gaze and her hand linger on you before returning to the bathroom. While you are now sleeping, Jill sits on the tiled floor of the bathroom and rests her arms against the rim of the tub. Her fingers cascade among the still-wet walls of the tub, shivering over the prospect of your naked self touching the surface just moments before. She takes her index and middle finger into her mouth, lapping her tongue around the digits and cleaning them of any excess of you still left on them. The other hand is used to caress the parts of the bathtub you had sat in before as if she were touching you. And it is just heavenly. Having you beneath her, her tongue tasting every inch of you, all the sounds you would gift her in return. It practically makes her feral with desire.

Shakily sinking her hands into the lukewarm water, it pools in her hands before escaping through the slits of her fingers. Mouth agape, skin gleaming with sweat — the only thing present in Jill's mind is how your flavor has mended with the bathwater. With rapid movements, she scoops some of the water into her palm and slurps the liquid with fervent haste. Six years of her lust-ridden head overcome with these fantasies, Jill has finally come one step closer to turning this dream into a reality. Her eyes fall shut and she lets the reverie flood her body. Wrapping her lips around your sex and adorning it in a mess of her saliva and your essence; every whimper and moan that escapes your mouth making her slick with arousal. After turning your brain into mush, she would then wrap you in her embrace and soothe you to sleep, still preserving the taste of you on her tongue.

Oh, one day. One day...

Birds singing, rain dancing. Once again, it is the first thing you are able to scrutinize once you come out of your state of comatose. The sun has now risen, hidden beneath an array of stormy clouds. Daylight bleeds into the room you have awoken in. A bedroom, as it appears; you are in a bedroom you are oblivious to the location of. With its pristine environment, expensive comforters, healthy plants, and modern decoration scattered around, you can't help but be astonished at how gorgeous it is. A window takes up the entirety of two walls, displaying nothing but miles upon miles of endless forestry. You would assume this was a gorgeous retreat if not for the confusion staining your mind. Have I been kidnapped? The thought bounces back and forth in your brain like a ping-pong ball.

Your original idea of being held captive consists of a dank basement, restraints around your limbs, and a lone mattress on the dirty ground. If you had been kidnapped, it would be nothing as luxurious as this, surely. Had the sanctuary brought you to a new location? Had your friends taken you on some sort of a surprise vacation? What the fuck is going on here!? Trying to venture down memory lane to find out how on Earth you have ended up here, your efforts are unfortunately brought to no avail. All you had done was drink some tea and somehow in the span of twelve hours, it had led you here. The only thing you can do now, however, is find some answers.

Wobbling like a newborn fawn on legs, you try and catch your balance after you attempt to stand. A door stands to the right of you, which you stumble to. Using every fiber of strength in your exhausted body, you try and turn the doorknob. The wall is there to catch you when your body then gives up on you. With a few deep breaths upon collapsing, you fight to regain consciousness and continue to tread forward. You would not let yourself pass out again, you're determined of such.

Upon opening the door, a hallway presents itself to you. The scent of something cooking pervades the air. You only realize you had skipped dinner the previous night when the aroma of natural spices and flavors makes your mouth water. You hear the clanking of pots and pans, as well as the murmur of two strangely-familiar voices. The decorations in the hallway also grasp your attention as you stroll through, tip-toeing past any squeaky floorboards. Numerous other plants sit around the area and picture frames are placed neatly on the walls. The frames are all empty, ready to be filled. It causes a strange chill to course through your body. However, the only thing you should be concerned with right now is receiving some answers. As worrying as it is, the prospect of your kidnapper potentially filling these frames with new pictures of you is irrelevant right now.

Treading forward, you then find yourself on the threshold of the kitchen. And what you find within makes your heart sink to the pit of your stomach.

You catch sight of no other than Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira. At the breakfast bar is Jill, whose legs are crossed and resting upon the surface of the counter. Carlos stands by the stove, stirring something delicious in the pan before him. The conversation between them is cut short upon your entrance and the three of you all stare at each other like a group of deer in headlights. Silence sits like a thick stew.

You're the first to break through the quiet.

"What the fuck?"

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 ۫ you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

THE BONUS TRACK !

❝ RECURRING VISIONS

OF SUCH SWEET DAYS . . . ❞

for anyone wondering, this, this, this, this, and this are what i imagined jill and carlos' house to look like. also, i will delve into characters and whatnot in further chapters. so dw!! and thank u!

2K notes · View notes

seeingivy · 4 months

Text

speak now

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

songs mentioned: the greatest by lana del ray and speak now by taylor swift! (minor mentions: daylight and forever winter by taylor swift)

an: LIGHTS CAMERA ACTION BITCHES!!!

previous part linked here

There’s something strange about showing Eren around an elementary school. Or strange about being around Eren at all.

There’s an overarching hunch, a quiet fear that parrots in your mind whenever you’re with him, stuck in those quiet pockets of time that you feel like he can see right through you, that every secret thought ricocheting in your mind is one that he’s entirely cognizant of - and that he hates it for it.

It almost fills you with disgust. How badly you want to be around him all the time, to be able to read him the way you’re positive that he can read you, just so that you can know what he’s thinking.

Is he upset with the way you reacted? Does he know how grateful you are towards him? Is he consoled by the fact that he’s fully forgiven? Does he care?

Does he think about you as much as you think about him?

The elementary school makes it worse. Almost emotional. Because it’s the fact that even though it’s not your school, it’s exactly how you remember it - so nostalgic that it’s nauseating. Though the colors are less vibrant, almost too dull this time around. The desks are comically small, when they used to be so expansive that you could barely reach the front corners.

“Did you ever collect Box-Tops?” you ask Eren.

He looks at you, face wrinkled in confusion as he shrugs. And the second his eyes lock with yours, you quickly swallow down your gulp of shame - at the lost, almost pinched look in his eyes - as he quickly averts his eyes.

Does he hate you for bringing it up? Does he want to berate you for rubbing in the fact that he had no semblance of a normal childhood?

You take the little jar, the little cardboard slips secured in the glass, as you hold it up to him.

“These are Box-Tops. They’re usually on the top of cereal boxes and granola bars and stuff. You can collect them and bring them to class and whoever gets the most in your grade usually gets a pizza party. It’s a charity-type thing where they get more funds for things like arts programs at your school by turning them into the foundation.” you murmur, placing the little jar in his hands.

“You can’t just…fund the schools properly?” Eren asks, wrinkling his nose.

“Are you crazy, Eren? Why would they ever do that?” you respond, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Eren smiles.

“Figures. D’you ever win?”

“Win what?”

“The pizza party.”

“Oh, maybe once or twice. They usually only buy two pizzas so you get a comically small slice so that it’s enough to go around for everyone. And I had Falco and Colt to share with - we had to split all the Box Tops we collected evenly between the three of us so I always felt lame turning like three or four in.” you state.

Does he think your complaint is stupid? That you should be grateful that you even got to experience it in the first place?

“What if there was an even number?”

“Rock paper scissors. Then Falco started crying when he lost, so we ended up giving it to him anyway.” you state.

“Very on brand.”

Eren smiles - brightly this time - as he sets the jar back onto the top of the filing cabinets and the two of you continue to awkwardly pace around the room. Eren’s overwhelmed with the memory - of Falco sobbing at his first Canadian Christmas when he was asked what he was thankful for - and the consistency makes him warm.

There’s something unsettling about the room - about how foreign it is to him. There’s a weird echo panging in Eren’s chest, somewhat caused by how longingly you seem to be looking at every little detail of the room. Running your hand over the hardwood desks, picking up the box of crayons, almost frowning at the pictures.

The thoughts that run through Eren’s mind are almost paralyzing, that he can barely keep his beating heart collected in his chest, and more awkwardly, that you know and are choosing to ignore it for civility sake.

Are you going to leave him when the show ends? Would you have left him if you lived a different life too?

Are you never going to end up together?

“Did you ever see Falco and Colt? When you were at school? S’that like a thing that happened?” Eren asks, poking around each of the little flyers on the bulletin board.

“Ah. Not really. Though sometimes when I was going to art class and Falco was going to computers or something, we’d kind of pass each other. We’d always be really excited to see each other. When we saw Colt, he always pretended like he didn’t even know who we were.” you state.

Eren can't stop the thoughts.

Do you hate him for bringing up a life that was robbed from you? The security of a school, of a quiet life because he selfishly picked you to be at his side?

Eren hums in response, as you head over to the last wall - the one left untouched by your inspecting eyes - as you fight the urge to smile. There’s little pictures of each of the students, Teddy right towards the top with a big toothy smile on his face. You point it out to Eren as you catch it before him, memorizing the soft look that spreads over his face when he finally catches light of it.

“You ever see Zeke?” you ask.

“Well, we technically watched a movie with him in it? So, that counts?” Eren shrugs.

“That’s right. Having your own parents and your brother as your source material must be so crazy.”

The thought that follows your comment nauseates Eren.

Are you trying to point out how different you are, so much so that you’ll never be able to be together?

“I can imagine exactly how you would be in elementary school.” Eren states, slinging his arm around your shoulder and bringing his face nearly flush with yours.

“Oh yeah?” you ask.

“You’d be like…this girl.”

You inspect the picture, rolling your eyes at the cop-out answer. Each of the little pictures is labeled with their hobbies or their interests, and naturally, Eren’s picked the girl who says she wants to be a songwriter.

“You’re funny.” you respond, sarcastically.

“S’nothing funny about it.” Eren responds.

“You’d be like…this one. He seems like the type of kid who would pull on a girl's pigtails, which according to Mikasa, is something that you actually did.”

Eren’s going to kill Jean.

“That’s just how you get a girl's attention.” Eren responds.

“Is that right? Had something you wanted to tell Mikasa really badly?” you smile.

Eren’s almost embarrassed that you know. That he feels the need to defend himself, to prove his devotion to you even though there would be no reason for him to do that.

“Ugh. Who told you?” Eren asks.

You can’t help but laugh.

“I can’t remember. Maybe Jean?”

“It was two days!” Eren whines.

You’re not sure how the topic came up, but Jean humbled you very fast when you claimed that you were the first person that Eren ever liked. Apparently you weren’t because Eren had sported a two day crush on Mikasa when they were younger, before he ever met you, which left you embarrassed - but also ready to tease him to oblivion.

“Eremika…” you state.

Eren clamps his hand over your mouth, as you quickly shove him off.

“Shut up.” Eren states.

“It’s funny! Mikasa’s getting married and you’re stuck at a five-year old’s piano concert. With seats all the way in the back, mind you.”

Eren rolls his eyes, as he leans back and sits on top of one of the desks. You follow suit, ignoring the little creak, as your legs swing over the top of the desk.

“What was your signature move in elementary school for the boys?”

“Was I supposed to have game as a seven year old?”

Eren scoffs.

“Well, we can’t all be talented.” Eren teases.

“I hardly qualify hair pulling as a game. That’s an annoying way to get attention.”

Eren smiles, leaning forward and curling his hands around a lock of your hair, before he lightly tugs. His face is so close to yours that you can make out the tiniest wrinkles in his skin, marked around his eyes.

“Annoyed?” Eren teases, his voice barely a whisper.

You shake your head, ever so slightly. A jarring movement feels too loud, like he’ll move away at the smallest of breaths, like a deer in the woods.

“Down to my very core.” you respond.

Eren smiles, the wrinkles even more pronounced, as you almost lean your forehead against his, skin ghosting each others. The thoughts are racing at this point, so fast that Eren can barely feel his breaths.

Is he ever going to be in love with someone who isn’t you?

“I feel the need to clarify. It was two days.” Eren states.

“Two days of hopeless pining.”

“Nothing compared to the three years of it that I did with you.”

You roll your eyes, cheeks burning.

He knows. It's written all over your face.

“Nothing compares to a puppy-love childhood crush.” you state.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I get the whole innocence of the puppy-love thing, but nothing pales comparison to the intensity of a teenage dream.” Eren states.

Eren watches your eyes waver and feels his throat constrict.

You know. It's written all over his face.

Thankfully for him, and less so for you, Sukuna ruins the movement. His shouting from the doorway breaks that quiet bubble, quickly pulling you both farther away from each other.

“What the hell are you guys doing? It’s starting in five minutes.”

You and Eren settle into your seats at the back, right by the door, as the lights dim in the little auditorium. They’re a warm golden, the smell of fresh paint tickling your nostrils.

Sitting all the way in the back has you and Eren weaving your heads around all the people crowded in front of you, the tiny cell phone lights illuminating each row.

You catch sight of Lana and Sukuna are aggressively gesturing at Teddy on the stage from their cushy seats in the front row at your left - Sukuna trying to get him to smile for a picture while Lana tries to signal to him to fix his untied shoelaces. The coddling makes your heart burn.

Eren digs into his coat pocket and pulls out a little camcorder that he hands to you.

“For?” you ask.

“Can you record it for me? I just…want to watch him in real time.”

You smile.

“Of course, I can.” you murmur, taking the little camera from him and flipping it open in your hands.

“Don’t record the other kids. I don’t give a fuck.” Eren states.

“Who knew you felt so passionately about kindergarten piano concert etiquette?” you jeer.

“You would be shocked. Lana’s basically out of storage by the time she gets to Teddy.” Eren groans.

You roll your eyes.

“I think it’s sweet.”

Eren wonders if there’s anything you can’t find the good in. His wavering suspicion is that it’s him - that you’re the worst thing he’s ever seen. So tainted that there’s barely any semblance of light left in him.

Eren’s hanging onto the end of your words, wanting to hear the spiral of thoughts running through your mind. Your affinity to look towards the positive, to soak up all the good, to point out all the love in the room - it was something he found himself chasing even though he knew he was barely half deserving of it.

“I just mean…when I was younger, my mom would tell me that my friend’s mom recorded me singing too and then sent it to her. And I was always really touched that they saw me and didn’t think god, it’s another kid I have to sit through. Like no, that’s Y/N! That’s my daughter’s friend.”

Eren deflates. He figures that it comes so naturally for you - seeing the good - because he thinks the law of attraction is real; that like attracts like, that people find what’s similar to them. And that he always seems to be the antithesis to it.

He’s always the exception to your rule.

“And some parents are late. They’re running here from work, or…or they were late because they had another kid to take care of first and…and it still makes the kid feel special, even if they don’t know it.” you whisper.

You twist the camera around in your hands as Eren gives you a lopsided smile, an underlying sentiment you can’t really place mirrored in his features. You’d memorize his expression just to agonize about it later, in the safe confines of your room, but your train of thought is cut off by a tapping on your shoulder.

It’s a little girl - with dark skin and braided hair - barely the age of seven. Her little legs can’t even reach the tan colored floor, her sparkly purple shoes glittering in the dim light.

“Hi.” she states.

Eren leans over, a cautious arm on the small of your back, as you lean your head closer to hers and whisper.

“Hi. Is something wrong?” you whisper.

“Our dresses are matching colors.” she states.

You look down - the white flowers printed on your dress matching her frilly pleats. It’s an painfully relieving breath, as you give her a smile.

“My name’s Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Y/N? Like the pop artist?”

You freeze, freezing cold ice shooting down your spine.

“I wish my mom named me after someone cool. My name’s Grace. It was my grandma’s name.”

You can barely muster out a response, Eren’s fingertips at your side squeezing shaking the shock out of your mind.

“I’m sure your grandma was pretty cool.” you respond, barely registering the words as they leave your lips.

“I mean, yeah. She was old. But no one’s as cool as Y/N L/N.” she responds, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You can see Eren smiling out of your peripheral vision, giving a polite nod to the parents seated at her side, who’ve now caught onto the fact that their daughter is talking to a complete stranger. Eren’s quick to diffuse the situation, holding out a hand to them.

“I’m Eren. This is Y/N. We’re here for Teddy. Curly blonde hair, big brown eyes?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s right. I’m sorry…did you say your name was Y/N?”

You give them a sheepish smile, bringing your hands to the coarse skin above your elbows and pinching.

“That’s right.”

“Our daughter’s a really big fan.” they state.

You smile, looking back down at her dark eyes, this time wide in shock.

“Is that right?” you ask, trying to give her the warmest smile you can.

Her parents lean down closer to her ears, the overwhelming sense of a flowery perfume taking over your senses, as you watch them talk to her, softly.

“Okay. Ask her nicely, okay?” they ask.

Grace gives them an obedient nod, before turning to you and puffing her chest out to you.

“Can I have a hug?”

“Oh. You…you want a hug?”

“Please? It’ll be quick.” she asks, her little voice shrill with a hopeful tone.

There’s a soft sense of elation that spreads through you, your cheeks warm at such an innocent request, as you can barely stop your arms from shaking. You open up your arms to her, as she nearly jumps into your embrace, and you squeeze her little frame as tightly as you can. The smell of strawberries wafts off her hair, accompanied by a soft giggling sound in your ear that nearly brings tears to your eyes.

You look up to find her parents, an awkward pinched smile in their eyes, as you give them a polite smile.

“I promise, I’ll take a picture with her after the show, okay? And if I forget, please come find me and remind me.”

The relief is apparent in their faces - their sickeningly grateful smiles over something as simple as a picture - as you let go and she settles back into the seat next to you.

You have to settle for recording Teddy with one hand, a deathlike grip in the camera, only because Grace refuses to let go of your other hand for the rest of the show.

Eren’s surprisingly really good with kids. Or really, not surprisingly at all, because you were finding it hard to identify something that Eren was really bad at. Because even the mistakes he did make were so painfully endearing, so warmly thoughtful that you could barely accost him for it.

He's making jokes with all the kids - participating in their rock paper scissors contests, playing pranks on their parents, and stealing cookies for them when people aren't looking.

You guys are the last ones to leave the school. But it’s only because Eren’s so enthralled with talking to all the passing people - taking pictures, signing napkins, and making phone calls to all their loved ones - that it makes your chest swell.

The narrowed eyes still make you nervous, an underlying feeling of inadequacy - of embarrassment for hiding out for so long - is all but nauseating, something Sukuna picks up on right after Eren.

He lets Lana take the lead on the pictures and mingling with all the parents, apparently something that was Sukuna’s forté, as he keeps his arm linked with yours, backs cold against the cement wall.

“You know, you can go make your rounds with Lana. I don’t want to ruin your son’s piano concert for you.” you state.

“This shit is overrated.”

You smile.

“You’re lying.” you state.

Sukuna looks over at you, brown eyes fixed on yours, as you watch a smile curl on his face. It’s almost boyish - and it’s the first time that you’re acutely aware of the fact that Sukuna’s probably the youngest one here - living a life so vastly different from yours.

“I am lying.” Sukuna states.

“Do you like it here, Sukuna?” you whisper.

“I’m better at this than I was at the whole - award show, celebrity world thing. People here are really easily impressed.”

“Is that right?”

“I handed a woman a lemonade earlier and she said God bless you. Over a fucking lemonade.”

“That’s just basic human decency, sweetheart. Were you raised by wolves?” you ask.

Sukuna scoffs.

“Basically.” he responds.

You hum in response, watching Lana crouch on the ground and press her cheek to Teddy’s as Eren quickly snaps the picture for them.

“Can I ask you a question?” Sukuna asks.

“Is me saying no going to stop you?” you ask.

“Probably not.”

“Proceed.” you respond.

“So, what did you really do for two years? And don’t give me the same shitty bullshit as last time. I want to know what it was that you did.” he responds, tone unrelenting.

You pause, mulling over the question. You knew it would come soon enough, the utter bleakness of it all, but you suppose it's like ripping off a bandaid. That it'll become softer to talk about after you do it so many times.

“It’s not pretty.” you respond.

“I’ve always thought you were really ugly. It’s hardly a difference for me.”

“Lovely. In a world of boys, you really are a gentleman, Sukuna.”

He grins, nursing the glass of lemonade in his hand.

“To be a woman is to perform. Now, tell.” Sukuna responds.

The truth of the matter is that there’s nothing to tell. Because you didn’t do anything.

“I got home from doing the interview and spent the entire week with Falco and Colt. I-I basically didn’t let them leave my side. Falco slept with me at night, Colt basically watched over me like a hawk.”

It’s a crashing plate, worried eyes, and an embarrassingly debilitating loss.

“And then Falco came into my room one day and told me that The Lucky One sold more vinyls than all of my other albums combined, in one week.” you state.

“Non-fluff shit prevails. I’ve been telling you.”

“I didn’t approve of that album being distributed as vinyl. For physical sales - at all. It wasn’t about the money or the records or- or any of that. And when Falco told me, I-”

Sukuna looks over, at the lump in your throat. He knows the feeling too well - the sweaty skin, the heavy tongue, and slips his hand into yours at his side.

“I broke his phone.” you state.

“What?”

“I took it from his hands and I smashed it. Then my own too. That’s partially why I never called you guys. I didn’t exactly memorize your numbers and I wasn’t in a position where I was going to just ask for them back.” you state.

“Not like you would have called anyways.” Sukuna states.

“I only knew Mikasa was having an engagement party because she sent me a physical invitation. Only knew Marco died because of the news. I-I barely knew what any of them were doing when I was gone, still.”

You bite your tongue, the tiniest metallic taste enveloping your mouth, as you pull the now warm, puffed up flesh away from your teeth.

“I knew that if I came back, it would mean I would be sucked back into it. What’s your response going to be, hint at it with this song, come back like this and…I’d rather lock myself in my house then do that again. I love songwriting, but not enough to sacrifice my dignity. I enjoyed my career but it drained the life out of me.”

Sukuna’s lip twitches. You choose to ignore it for the time being.

“I took up different hobbies. Got a sewing machine, made sourdough from scratch, I even learned flower arranging. But, I could tell that I must have seemed like I was off my rocker or something. My parents and my brothers never really left my side, I could tell that they were always worrying about me, and-and I hated that because-”

Sukuna stops you before you get too choked up, now standing in front of you, his back blocking the sight of you from any of the people milling around the courtyard.

“I know that’s a shitty answer. That I should have been doing something worthwhile. But, but- I was fucking tired. I was done doing all this and I can’t exactly…be a functioning member of society or something. I can barely stand here without people giving me a second look or trying to get a discreet picture.” you whisper.

“I just wanted to know. I’m not giving you shit for it.” he whispers.

You frown.

“You aren’t. But maybe you should.”

You look over his shoulder, at Eren squishing Teddy’s cheeks with his fingers as Lana takes a picture of them - far too close to barely even get the two of them in it together.

“He fought for me when I wasn’t even here anymore. I was moping in my house, breaking plates whenever I got frustrated, and he was still moving forward.” you murmur.

Sukuna pauses.

“Y/N. Don’t do that. I need you to be so careful with what the fuck you do after you leave here.”

The sense of urgency in his voice catches you off guard.

“What?”

“Y/N. It won’t happen if you’re careless. You cannot wallow in your own pity about this, I need you to tread lightly, okay?”

“What won’t happen?”

Sukuna glares at you.

“You and him. You could spend years pointing fingers at each other, who didn’t do what. You won’t get him back if you stay there when he’s moved forward.”

“I don’t want him.” you whisper.

You barely believe it when it comes out of your mouth.

“You disgust me, Y/N.” he states.

“You’ve always had such a way with words.”

“And you’ve always had a lack of critical thinking. Why wouldn’t you want him?”

“Why would he want me?”

“He just does. The same way you just do.”

You swallow hard.

“Fine. Be a fucking idiot for all I care. If you do ever knock some sense into that thick fucking skull of yours, just be careful. Eren knows that he has to prove he cares about you for you to come back to him. You need to know that he barely thinks he’s deserving of anything from you, so much so, that he won’t ever make the move.”

Sukuna doesn’t mince his words. You wish he could have you through every important decision of your life just so you wouldn’t stumble and fall as much as you did.

“Eren’s called the shots since you were fifteen. You’re going to have to call all the next ones. And for the love of god, really. I’m so tired of that fucking freeloader showing up whenever he pleases. And you look really ugly when you look sad, so just do it right please.”

You smile.

“Are you insinuating I’m pretty when I don’t look sad?”

“I hope you fall off a bridge and never recover.” Sukuna responds.

The sniffling cues Eren onto the fact that you’re crying. The air pressure of the plane is overwhelming in his ears, almost so loud that he misses it, but he counts himself lucky that you’ve always been an obscenely loud crier. He peeks his head over the division over your seats and reaches forward to poke your head.

“Hey. You okay?” he asks.

You give him a meek nod. You know for a fact that he doesn’t believe it for one second.

“Can I come over there for a second? I don’t want to talk from so far away.” Eren asks.

“Isn’t that like…illegal? Two people in one seat.” you murmur.

“This is first class, the seat is basically a bed. And there’s no laws in the air.”

You frown.

“Eren. Laws still exist in the air. They’re just local.”

Eren smiles.

“Well, aren’t you a little genius? Scooch over.”

You shift on the seat, pulling your blanket closer to you as Eren very precariously makes his way over to your seat, the two of you almost cramped in the small space. It’s almost funny how there’s barely any room, your foreheads pressed together from the lack of space.

“Hey.” he whispers.

“Hi.”

“What’s wrong, Margaret?”

You shake your head. His hands are warm on your sides.

“Come on. Tell me. I’m really good at fixing problems.”

“I know.”

Eren can’t place what the tone is in your voice - but it comes out all strained and raspy - that it rubs him the wrong way.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” you clarify.

“Which way do you mean it?” Eren asks.

You sigh.

“I mean. You handled everything considerably well, even if it wasn’t easier for you. You…you waited until I was ready to hear it, until I asked to be told your side of the story. And you put it all together, wrapped in a perfect bow with that documentary, and then took me to see Lana and Sukuna too because you knew I’d want to.” you mumble.

“Wrapped in a ribbon. Who the fuck calls it a bow?”

You roll your eyes, earning you a laugh from Eren that’s so loud it makes you laugh too. You reach forward to clamp your fingers over his mouth, muffling the loud sound, as you shush him loudly.

Eren pauses.

“I’m glad it worked. And I had a lot of time to think. You don’t have as much, but…we’ll help you. With whatever you want to do.” Eren states.

You give him a nod, unsatisfied with the answer.

“What were you thinking?” Eren asks.

You fish out the little slip of your pocket, nearly smushing your face into his in the process, and place the little paper in his hand.

“This is…Satoru Gojo’s phone number?” Eren asks.

“Yeah. I got it from Sukuna.”

“For what purpose?”

You pause.

“I’m going to bury Scott Clarkson into the ground.”

Eren’s caught off by the answer.

“You’re what?”

“What answer were you expecting?”

“I’m not mad at it. I was just thinking more…I want to write music again. I’m not a quitter.”

You frown.

“I thought about that. But it hasn’t exactly worked for me like that. I even tried when I was at the beach but I came up with nothing. But that’s not relevant, I don’t need to write music to end him.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess. But it’s better that way. Using exactly what they tried to take away from you to get back at them.” Eren responds.

You smile.

“You’ll help me?”

Eren rolls his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I made it clear that I’d do anything for you. Even this. Especially this.”

You smile. You reach forward, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing hard.

“Thank you. And I get what you’re saying about the music, but it just isn’t happening, so we’ll have to think of something else.”

“I have an idea. When we get back to set, okay? I think it’ll help.” Eren states.

You nod.

“Okay. I trust you.” you respond.

The sentiment sends a shiver down Eren’s spine.

“I don’t know how it’ll go. I can’t promise that it’ll work out the way we want it.” Eren clarifies.

You smile.

“I was trusting you to help me get back into songwriting, not into bringing him down. I’m talking about help into being…myself again.”

Eren’s eyes flicker, down to your lips, and then back up to your eyes. You almost swear that you imagined it.

“Do you think I’m different?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

You pale.

“Do you hate me for it?” you ask.

Eren shakes his head.

“I like you better like this.” he whispers.

Eren reaches forward, tucking the loose hairs back behind your ear, before his warm fingers are secured around the nape of your neck. He does it a second time, looks at your lips, and this time you swear the corners of his mouth are twitching too.

“You weren’t very confident when I met you, almost like you didn’t think you were cut out to do this. Unsure of why you even had a place in the room. Then you went so far away from me, worked yourself so hard, that I barely remember you even smiling at any of us anymore. You were angry, then you were heartbroken, and apparently you broke a lot of plates when you weren’t with any of us?”

You roll your eyes.

“I’m going to kill Falco.”

“Colt.” Eren corrects.

You scoff.

“No way. Eren, he kind of hates you.”

“Kind of? Colt was ready to punch me in the face when he first got to set. Rightfully so.” Eren responds.

“It’s actually not rightfully so. He didn’t even know what you did.” you state.

Eren pauses.

“I know. He got here and asked me first thing what it was I did to you. Then he wanted to punch me in the face when I told him.”

You shrug. You can tell that Eren’s waiting for an explanation - green eyes looking at you expectantly as you give him a nod.

“It felt wrong to talk to him about it. Falco knew you a little bit better, but even for him…they would just start bad mouthing you just to make me feel good. But that would just make me feel worse because…I don’t get it. Hating someone just because things went wrong.”

You crack your knuckles.

“It’s like Ricky. I can badmouth him. He was horrible. He’s a bad person and he literally left me out there to rot just to embarrass me. He did it to Lana, to Teddy. You…I just thought you didn’t like me. I couldn’t really fault you for how you felt. And I loved you. I don't get off on talking shit about you when you were my entire world.”

Eren smiles.

“You had every right to badmouth me.”

“But that’s the thing. I just didn’t want to. Even if things ended badly, you still made me really happy. We still did this entire thing together and-”

“We’ll finish it together.”

You smile, giving him a nod.

“You know when you’re in a relationship and you feel like you get to see a different side of that person? Because you’re so close?” Eren asks.

“Yeah.”

“That’s how you came back to us. Feeling close again. A fresh slate, back to what drew us all to you in the first place. So many things in this industry, in this job are so fake. I mean our job is to literally pretend. You are an overwhelmingly genuine person. Even more so now. You are different. We’re all going to love you for it.” Eren states.

For someone who’s so convinced he’s horrible with words, Eren always seems to have the perfect ones for you.

“Will you leave if things go south?” you ask.

“No.”

“Then we can do this. I’m positive.” you state.

“What makes you so sure?”

You squeeze Eren's hand three times.

“I don’t have anything to lose, Eren.”

When you get back to set the following morning, you don’t miss Connie very loudly whispering with Eren behind you. You’re positive Jean and Mikasa are eavesdropping just as much as you are, their eyes fixed a little too hard waiting for Eren’s response.

Did you guys kiss?

No, Connie, am I crazy?

It makes your heart sink a little bit, but you ignore it as Eren comes up at your side, giving you a bright smile. He reaches for the little glass jar to your left and gives you a wink before he calls for everyone’s attention.

“First things first, Falco. Good job on press. That was one of the funniest fucking interviews I’ve seen in my life.”

Falco laughs, as you turn your head to the side, pretending to do a little bow as everyone pats him on the back, and you look at Mikasa.

“What did I miss?”

Mikasa smiles, pulling up the video at your side.

“Levi’s direction was to not answer any questions about you. Naturally, that was all they asked about so we all decided to coordinate our answers and basically say that we didn’t know you.” Mikasa states.

“What?”

“It sounds stupid, but it was so funny. Some of them started actually believing it. And Falco took it so far, he started pretending like he wasn’t even related to you.”

Mikasa hands you the phone as you play the video, barely containing your laughter at how stupid the video is. Falco’s so confident in his words, so self-assured that it’s making Gabi burst out into laughter, and obviously messes with the interviewer so bad that they can’t even continue.

It makes you happier than it should - their first experience being so overwhelmingly positive.

“And we all wore ribbons in our hair, which didn’t help matters anyway.” Mikasa states.

“Levi’s a menace. He’s milking this so much.” you state.

“That was actually my idea.”

“Oh. I didn’t mean-”

“I know. I just want you coming back to be a big deal. It’s not an easy thing for you to do. You’re going to get every bit of hype for it.”

You smile, reaching forward to link arms with her, as Eren makes a booing sound.

“Are you done? Can I talk now?”

You shove Eren.

“Stop being rude.”

“I’m not being rude. You guys interrupted me.”

“Why were you talking before us? That’s so inconsiderate of you.” Mikasa states.

You laugh as Eren rolls his eyes, handing each of them a tiny white slip and a marker, before he takes his spot next to you and gives you a big smile.

“Y/N is going to write a song. Multiple actually. I want you to write down ideas for her and she’s going to pull one out every morning and read it to us. Then she has to play whatever she came up with, even if it was only one line, at the end of that day.” Eren states.

“Eren.” you start.

“No buts. You guys know the drill.”

You watch as everyone follows his instructions, excitedly whispering to each other as their pens move, and you look over at Eren. He drops his own slip into the cup, the first one, with his name neatly looped on the outside as he gives you a smile.

“I’m not going to be able to write anything.” you state.

“Well, you heard the rules. You’ll have to write something.”

“Eren.”

He shakes his head, handing you his journal, opening it to the marked page as you flip through the sheets.

“I did this a while back, when I was getting back into it. It helps a lot more than you think. And you can ask the person who gave you the slip for help if you really need it, but that person only.”

You take the book for him, watching everyone give you excited smiles as the cup fills up just as fast, and flip though the pages.

“write a song about me and sukuna” And underneath, the lyrics to a song called Daylight.

“write a song about connie’s one year anniversary of being sober” with Levi’s distinct handwriting and the lyrics to a song called Forever Winter scribbled messily on the page.

And the last one makes your throat bob in your chest.

“write a song about y/n”

You read over the lyrics, pressing your fingers against the ink, as you fervently read the lyrics.

We didn't know that we had it all But nobody warns you before the fall Don't leave, I just need a wake-up call

I'm facing the greatest The greatest loss of them all The culture is lit and I had a ball I guess I'm signing off after all

You look up at him, his attention drawn away as he shuffles the cup in his hand to mix up the slips and then holds the cup out to you. Everyone’s watching, waiting for you to pull a piece, as you set the book down, and give them all a meek nod.

There’s a resounding sound of cheers, and an obscene amount of screaming from Connie and Sasha, as you close your eyes and pull out the first paper. You open up the little slip, floored by how random the request is.

“Write a song about upstaging someone's wedding. Connie.” you state.

A resounding smack fills the room - as you look over to find Jean hitting Connie.

“I told you not to put that in.” Jean yells.

“What? It’s funny! Eren said random stuff helps with this.” Connie defends.

“Dumbass. You just had to write something about ruining a wedding?” Jean grates.

“Who the fuck said it was about you, you egomaniac?” Sasha asks, reaching forward to flick his forehead.

“Who else is getting married, dumbass?” Jean responds.

“Why are you so mad? You’re clearly projecting your own personal issues.” Connie states, as Jean and Sasha follow him out of the room, their shouts filling up the quiet air.

Eren turns to you, a bright smile on his face. You want to smack him.

“I’ll see you tonight. Fully written song and all.” Eren states, lightly shoving you as he walks past.

You groan, leaning your head on Mikasa’s shoulder, as you hand her the little slip.

“Eren’s so fucking annoying sometimes. How am I supposed to write a song about this?” you complain.

“You’ll think of something. You’re amazing.” Mikasa states.

“I um…actually got you something. And I had something I wanted to ask.”

You took Sukuna’s words seriously. And had every intention to make amends.

“Really?” she asks.

“Yeah. It’s a keychain.”

You pull it out, the little penguin charm hanging off the end, as she takes it into her hands. It makes your heart swell - the way she carefully turns it over in her fingers, the excited smile on her face.

“Thank you so much, Y/N.”

“It’s kind of stupid but…it’s blue? Like something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue?” you state.

Mikasa’s smile gets wider, her shoulders relaxing as she reaches forward to give you a hug.

“Thank you. I love it.”

“It’s just a penguin.” you murmur.

“Maybe to someone else. But I haven’t forgotten that we watched Happy Feet at midnight the day we were supposed to film the Colossal Titan reveal and almost missed shooting that day.” she states.

You can barely contain your elation this time. That Mikasa remembers the memory just as well as you do. You both laugh for a second before you muster the courage to ask.

“Listen. I want to ask something but I don’t want to overstep so know that you can say no.” you state.

“Okay.”

“I know that we have our own rooms, but I wanted to ask if you wanted to share again? Colt and Porco always snore and…and you have your entire life to share a room with Jean but only a few more months to share one with me?” you mumble, voice nearly shaking.

Mikasa brings her hands to your shoulders, squeezing hard as she can barely contain your smile.

“Really? You really want to share with me?” she asks.

“Are you crazy? You’re like the best roommate I’ve ever had.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, really. Falco kicks, Colt smells, Porco snores, and Eren’s nothing compared to you. You're like a princess compared to them.”

Mikasa smiles.

“Deal. Lets go switch the signs - to their rightful places - right now.”

“What if Jean disagrees?” you ask.

Mikasa rolls her eyes.

“He can choke for all I care.” Mikasa states, linking her arm in with yours as you both pound up the stairs right to the hallway.

You take the marker, scribbling out Mikasa and Jean’s names (and Connie’s comments underneath) as you hand her the marker to do the honors. You both admire the little sign together, arms wrapped around each other, as Eren, Connie, and Jean join you two.

“What the fuck?” Jean asks.

You smile at him.

“Sorry. Not your room anymore.” you respond.

“One could argue that it was never really yours in the first place, Jean.” Mikasa states.

“Dude, you guys are so annoying.” Jean states.

“Did you just call your fiance, dude?” Eren asks, earning him a shove from Jean.

Connie comes up at Mikasa’s side, taking the marker from her hands, and adding his signature comment to finish off the new sign. You look over at him and smile, tugging him into your hug with Mikasa - as you all admire the door.

Y/N-MIKA FOREVER!!!

And underneath, Connie’s lopsided handwriting:

WE’RE SOOO FUCKING BACK

You understand why everyone was crowding you and Eren when they thought you were going to kiss in season two. It’s because you got to set early to make sure you got a good seat for Falco and Gabi’s love confession - so excited that you could barely eat your lunch.

You can’t help but watch them a few feet away from you, nervously kicking their legs on their chairs, as your notebook lays forgotten in front of you.

There’s a group of shitty lyrics on the page, so embarrassing that you shut the page as Eren approaches and takes the seat next to you and Mikasa.

“I wasn’t going to read them, silly goose.” Eren states, lightly shoving you as you tuck the book under your ankles.

“Good. I’d kill you before you tried.”

“Wow. Standing up weddings has you that mad?”

“The opposite actually.” you state.

Eren rolls his eyes as he scooches closer to you, halfheartedly shaking Levi’s hand as he passes. You look over to Falco and Gabi again - the two of them increasingly nervous, Gabi more so for some reason, as you lean over and whisper into Eren's ear.

“Ten bucks this pushes their real love confession ten years into the future.” you state.

“What?”

“Think about it. We had to kiss and it pushed things back basically a year and a half because we got all flustered and confused. Falco’s doing a whole bit, they’re going to be nervous about this for years.” you state.

Eren rolls his eyes, reaching forward to elbow you in the side.

“Bullshit.”

“I’m right! The same thing happened with Hange and Levi.” you defends.

“Rookie mistake, Y/N. Do I know your little brother better than you? He’s not half as pussy as you or Levi.”

“Touché, asshole. If he likes her so bad, why hasn’t he said it yet?” you respond.

“He’s a romantic. He’s waiting for the right time.” Eren responds.

You look over at the two of them, splitting a box of Tic-Tacs, as Levi walks back to his cues and sets up the cameras.

“Think about it. In a relationship, you’re either a Hange or a Levi. You’re either a Jean or a Mikasa. Falco’s obviously more like Mikasa and Levi. And Gabi’s like Jean and Hange. She has to make the move.”

“You’ve got it all wrong. Gabi’s the Levi and Falco’s the Hange.” Eren responds, nearly offended at your statement.

“Are you an idiot?”

“Watch. I’ll prove it to you.”

Eren pushes up off the floor, dragging Niccolo along with him, as they two of them approach Gabi and Falco. You’re not sure what they’re whispering - but you can tell that Falco and Gabi are flustered by the premise - and Eren and Niccolo are far too elated as Eren walks back over to you, this time with Niccolo in tow.

“Hi Nico.”

“Hi Y/N.”

You look over at Eren, glaring at him, as he gives you a sheepish shrug.

“Okay, guys. We’re going to start rolling. Falco, Gabi, you ready?”

“Yeah.” they respond in unison, giving each other a little fist bump as they take their seats on the floor.

“Was no one going to ask me? I’m in this scene too.” Colt complains, earning a fit of laughter from the crew.

Everyone quiets down as the lights dim on the set, the group of you hunching forward, trying to contain your smiles as you look at each other. It’s only then that you’re reminded of how good Falco and Gabi are at acting, the painstaking agony in their voice almost making you shiver.

“I helped make the attack on Liberio happen. I met a wounded soldier at that hospital, and without knowing it was Eren Jaeger, I sent letters from him to his allies using the mailboxes outside the zone.” Falco starts.

Mikasa leans over to look at Eren, mouthing the words “fucking bastard” as you try to contain your laughs. Levi gives the four of you a warning glance, as you muster out an apologetic smile.

“A lot of people died in Liberio. So….it’s my fault that Udo and Zofia died.” Falco finishes.

“I see…” Gabi responds.

Falco swallows hard, a pink blush on his cheeks, as you all excitedly smile.

“Also, I love you. I didn’t want you to inherit the Armored Titan. That’s why I became a warrior candidate. So…so that we could get married…and be happy forever.”

Gabi’s as red as a tomato. You almost feel bad for teasing the two of them so hard but it’s so endearing it makes your heart squeeze.

“I wanted you to live a long life!” Falco shouts.

“What are you saying?” Gabi responds.

“I might turn into a Titan at any moment. I just wanted to get it all out there before I’m gone for good.”

It's silent - leave for Gabi's tears before she quickly stands up. You watch as Gabi aggressively wrestles with Falco, pulling off the little black band secured around his waist, before she throws it on the ground, her chest heaving.

You sincerely hope Levi campaigns for them to win an award for this one.

Levi calls cut, as Hange runs up to the two of them, excitedly cheering them both on as they avert their gaze from each other. Eren’s quick to jump up, grabbing you by the wrist as he pulls you up to the group of them, a devious smirk on his face.

Niccolo’s quick to join his side, the two of them crossing their arms over their chest and smirking at Falco, as he sighs.

“Really, guys?” Falco asks.

“Really. You agreed to it, little dude.” Eren states.

Falco rolls his eyes, nervously eyeing Gabi - who is excitedly jumping up and down in front of a very unamused Levi - before he walks over to her and plants a big kiss on her cheek. The group of you all gasp, Gabi’s skin burning red, as Falco runs away, claiming he needs to go to the bathroom.

Niccolo and Eren are fist bumping at your side and Eren’s turns to you, irritatingly positioned with his hands on his hips, as he smiles at you.

“Told you so.” Eren states.

“What the hell did that prove?”

“It’s simple. I asked Falco if he wanted to play a game of Truth or Dare. Then, I asked him to kiss his favorite person on the cast on the cheek after the scene was over. Told him to run right up to you and do it since I knew for a fact you’re his favorite.”

“Eren, you little-”

“Falco is most definitely the Hange or the Jean of the relationship. Would even go as far to argue that he might even be the boldest.” Eren states.

You groan, the two of you walking past Gabi and Falco near the snack table, a sizable distance away from each other and nearly sweating in the presence of each other. You and Eren shoot them a thumbs up, and Eren continues to gloat all the way back to the house.

At the end of the workday, Eren’s gathered everyone in the main room in a big crowd, doing nothing to help your nerves, as you give them all a smile and loop the guitar strap over your shoulder and sit on the bench.

“Okay. Repeat the request, Y/N.” Eren guides, the group of them all giving you warm smiles.

Mikasa and Sasha blow you a kiss, Porco and Connie with overenthusiastic thumbs up, and Eren’s smile pushing you on.

“Right. The request was ‘write a song about standing up a wedding’ and it was from Connie.” you state.

You swallow hard as you shut the book and place it under the bench and start strumming on the guitar to warm up.

“Be nice to me guys. I called this one Speak Now.”

I am not the kind of girl Who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion But you are not the kind of boy Who should be marrying the wrong girl

There’s a resounding sound of cheers, Connie and Mikasa clapping along with the sound as everyone else follows suit. You can feel your head pounding, your voice slightly shaking as you continue on and the guitar strings uncomfortably burning your fingers.

I sneak in and see your friends And her snotty little family all dressed in pastel And she is yelling at a bridesmaid Somewhere back inside a room Wearing a gown shaped like a pastry

Mikasa scoffs.

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

Everyone laughs, including you, as you shake your head and blow her a kiss before continuing. She makes the little gesture at you - like she’s catching the kiss in the air and tucking it into her pocket. You can feel Jean rolling his eyes at your side.

Don't say yes, run away now I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door Don't wait, or say a single vow You need to hear me out And they said, "Speak now"

The rest of the song goes relatively smoothly, the excitement from the group of them making your heart soar, that block in your throat dissolve.

Sasha’s trapped Niccolo in her arms and has been aggressively swinging him around for the past minute, Porco and Gabi locking their fingers together to do a little swing dance, and Hange, Armin, and Eren bobbing their heads in unison at the side.

The group of them all give you a deafening sound of applause when you finish, aggressive hugs and kisses being placed on your cheeks as they all applaud you - claiming your brilliance - as you feel your cheeks burn with excitement.

Eren’s the last one to approach you, an almost too satisfied with himself smile on his face for the second time today, as you give him your most peachy smile.

“Like it?” you ask.

“Loved it. You’ve still got it.” Eren states.

“You know it.”

“Can I give you one note?” Eren asks.

“Please.”

“The last verse. You have to change it.”

“What? Why?” you ask.

“It’s a good repeat. But I’m more curious…did the guy from the song leave the altar for her?”

You nod, giving him a smile, as you reach for the book, and gesture for him to sit next to you on the bench. You quickly jumble the lyrics onto the page, nearly misspelling half of the words, before you hand it to him for inspection.

And you'll say, "Let's run away now" I'll meet you when I'm out of my tux at the back door Baby, I didn't say my vows So glad you were around When they said, "Speak now"

"Always a sucker for a happy ending. It's perfect." Eren states.

He gives you a glimmering smile, making your heart skip a beat as his hand brushes against yours. Eren pulls out the little slip from earlier today, taping it right above the lyrics.

He gives you a last pinch of the cheek before pushing off the bench, leaving your entire body burning at his praise.

“That’s my girl. I didn’t doubt you for even a second.”

You pause.

"Eren?"

He turns back, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah?"

"Ask me who my favorite person on set is."

"What?"

"Ask me."

"Why would I-"

"Can you just do it?"

Eren turns back, hands at his side.

"Who's your favorite person on set?" Eren asks.

You walk up to his side, standing on your tip toes to press a kiss into the softness of his cheek. You hope that he understands - that you're overwhelmingly thankful for him. For the documentary, the days in Seattle, and the lifeline he always throws you. That you'll always be indebted to him.

"It's you." you whisper.

Eren's cheeks are pink.

"Is that right?" Eren asks, the tone in his voice teasing.

"Don't push your luck." you state.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Eren responds, as he gives you one last cheek pinch before leaving you alone with the piano.

Singing the song, strumming the guitar - it's almost like stretching an old muscle, flexing out the soreness. You're so excited that you reach for the cup on top of the piano to start writing the next one right away. But when your read the slip, you feel your mouth go dry.

you love someone with your entire being, and all they do is tolerate it

And at the bottom, a name scribbled in messy handwriting

Jean.

next part linked here

an: OK GUYS. WE'RE IN THE ENDGAME NOW!!! sorry its kind of boring but we die like men

taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejgg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-morii @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @dreamy-carat @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv @cowgirlikets @dreamxiing @mamamammarga @tangerine-neonlight

pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

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your-highnessmarvel · 7 months

Text

So Much Paperwork

Requested by Anonymous: can you do one with avenger!reader and bucky and they get like either captured by hydra or locked in a room and there sex pollen and they don’t want to get dirty because they’re friends but… eventually they do? ❤️❤️❤️ if you’re not comfortable with this it’s ok!

AN: i’ve never written sex pollen before so bare with me! this is a heeellll of a ride LMMMAAOOOO this is going to spruce up my Bucky masterlist LETS GO

Warnings: smut (oral f!receiving, hand job, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, praising, biting), sex pollen, dub!con action, language, mentions of HYDRA

*gif not mine

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MASTERLIST

When Cap had said it was just a Hydra base, you hadn’t expected to enter a motherlode of enemy information. Opening that vault was like finding a cave filled with gold - every inch of the vault was brimming with sensitive Hydra files, all dog-eared, marked up, or highlighted.

Bucky insisted on going through each and everyone of them. He had you open up each file cabinet, sift through each file, pick out the most interesting of them all, and place them by the door. Thank God you could read German.

“Look at this one,” he called from the other side of the vault, far off in the corner.

You were examining a file on something Hydra called Experiment 4H7, Phase 4. You let the file go before even reading the subject of the experiment and made your way towards Bucky.

He was wearing his familiar all black outfit, the metal arm a stark silver against the vault’s gold and his suit’s black. He looked over his metal shoulder as you approached.

“I’m guessing they’re keeping more red rooms in Ukraine,” he stated, showing you the file. There were a number of pictures of young girls varying from blondes to brunets to red heads, all different heights, all different shades of skin tones.

“Yup,” you sighed, pointing to a line in the file. “That’s a graduate class, I’m guessing, look at that.” You pointed to the German word for Graduation and felt a deep pinch in your belly. These poor women. Unaware that they would be stripped of their rights, of what made them woman.

You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. “I think we should just leave with what’s by the door?”

You stepped back, feeling the tile beneath your booted heel give and fall an inch lower. A metallic sound, like two gears churning to work, echoed loudly in the vault, and slowly, the vault door started shutting.

“It’s a boobytrap!” Bucky yelled, dropping the file and running to the door, his metallic hand out to stop it.

“Did I step on a mine?” you yelled back, panic gripping every nerve in your body.

It felt like time slowed as you looked over your shoulder, soft strands of hair slicking against the sweat on your cheek. You saw Bucky arrive at the door when it had but a few inches left to go, jamming his metal fingers between the closing door and the oval frame.

Every beat of your heart burned as you watched his face flush red, veins in his neck pulsing as he struggled to keep the door just a slight inch open.

And then, overhead, a quiet squirting sound. You felt tiny pinpricks of water touch your cheek and you looked up.

“Bucky.” But his name was lost to the sound of him groaning, grunting, heels sliding against the cement floor, sweat forming on his upper lip - all to keep the door from closing. “Bucky!”

When he looked back at you, the vault door closed with a deafening boom.

“Y/N, don’t breathe in!” he gasped, retrieving his fingers form the door, panting as he made his way towards you.

“Too late,” you said, feeling the minuscule dots of water dampen the inside of your nose, your lips, your tongue. It tasted so sweet.

“Fuck,” he murmured, bending to your rest his hand on your boot, the one still pressed on the loose tile. “Y/N, I don’t think it’s a mine.”

You shivered, something achy climbing its way up your spine, burying deep in your belly. “Why?” you asked, closing your eyes as you felt his metal fingers clamp hard over your booted ankle.

“Because,” he answered. “This was just the trigger for the door.”

You sighed. “Of course, I’m the dumbass who triggers the trap.”

“No worries, doll,” he said with a chuckle, and that nickname, that chuckle, made something sticky and thick slide down your belly, settling comfortably between your legs. Oh no.

“How do we get out?” you asked, finally moving away from the tile as Bucky stood. You met his eyes, towering over you, and your skin suddenly flashed so hot that you feared he could see the heat fuming off your flesh. You sighed, an excuse to get air into your lungs, to fan out the heat invading your bones.

He frowned, bent over to get on eye level with you. “Fuck,” he spat, walking towards the door.

“What?” you asked, suddenly feeling your throat stick, parched, thick with saliva all at once. “Bucky, what’s happening?” You’d wanted your voice to sound panicky, but somehow, it came out... breathy. Like a purr.

Bucky bashed his metal fist into the vault door, but the thing only echoed the sound back, not even denting, not even screeching.

“Fuck!” Bucky yelled, raking his flesh hand through his short, cropped hair.

He looked at you over the expanse of the vault, just a few meters apart, and something inside you ached, like an intense burn that made the fabric of your suit hurt against your skin, feel like hot iron against your nipples, the soft flesh on the inside of your thigh.

God, you needed to get out of this suit. But not here.

“How long until Cap comes for us?” you asked, falling to your knees, heat blasting from your knees to your scalp as you found the floor. Maybe it was cold.

Bucky didn’t answer. He watched you fall flat to the ground, press your heated, sweaty cheek to the floor, chasing any kind of relief from this mounting pain, this heat.

He gritted his teeth and took a step back.

“What’s happening?” you asked again, rolling onto your back. The floor was but a brief relief of the heat, of the pain burning harshly under your skin. You closed your sweaty lids, scrapped your nails against your damp hairline. When had you gotten so sweaty?

You reached up to the zipper of your one-piece suit, ready to tug it down.

“Y/N, don’t.” Bucky’s voice, usually comforting, friendly, guiding - now sounded like a wolfish demand, a famished lion salivating at the sight of bleeding prey.

You breathed in harshly, suddenly, your mind shifting the narrative of who Bucky was to you in a split second. A heartbeat before, Bucky was your superior, your friend who’d been nothing but a guiding force through your life - taking you from the depths of fear and desperation to acceptance. He’d brought you to the Avengers, to Cap and Nat, to a team of people like you - misfits who fit together.

But now. Now the Bucky you knew was shadowed by this new grumbling, groaning wolf.

“It hurts,” you panted, eyes still closed. You reached up anyway and undid your zipper, opening your suit down to your bellybutton, like slicing open a piece of meat.

You heard something fleshy hit the floor, and you opened your eyes, looking back. It hurt to scrape your head against the cement, but you saw Bucky on his knees there, looking at you with something dark and hungry glazing over his eyes.

Your eyes fell back to the ceiling above you, and you opened your suit up, arching off the cement in search of air. Your skin was pebbled with sweat, scorched to the touch.

“If you expose more skin,” Bucky panted, and you realized that he was closer, almost breathing into your ear. “I’m not going to be able to stop myself.”

“What’s happening?” you asked, for the millionth time, feeling an ache start to build dangerously fast in your cunt, throbbing, burning, slicking down your thighs with every beat of your heart. Every rush of blood in your veins was pain, every throb in your hole like a searing demand, an ache insatiable. Even when you wiggled, even when you groaned, clamping your thighs together, turning to your side and trying to find friction.

Your clit was a pained, throbbing mess.

“Doll,” Bucky breathed, and God, that sent another wave of hurt coursing down your spine, snapping in your blood like lightning. You could feel your pussy slick even more at the utter wretchedness of his voice.

You groaned. Shaking your head. “No,” you whined. “Not this.” You’d heard about this - this experiment on something Hydra called sex pollen. They’d first used it in their breeding program they’d started during the second world war, when they wanted more Aryan children. They’d perfected it during the Cold War, and started manufacturing it for breeding camps they’d scattered across barren wastelands to produce more Hydra pawns. And now, they were using it as chemical warfare.

“Bucky, no,” you whined, feeling hot, steaming tears wet your cheeks. You couldn’t do this. Bucky was your friend, your boss even. He was 7 years older than you (although he was technically like, 109 years old, but still). You were a rookie and he, your training officer. Your were his student and he was your professor. This was wrong on so many levels. “How much time does this last?” you asked, shivering, feeling another nauseating wave of need pulse through you.

“I’m... I’m not sure,” he said, struggling to say each word. Like air was unknown to his lungs. Like he was fighting every instinct in his bones.

But just the sound of his voice was enough to make another wave of excruciating pain wash through you, making you groan and wiggle against the floor. That ache in your clit intensified, pulsed painfully.

“Make it stop,” you murmured. “It hurts... so much.”

There was a second of silence until you heard the telltale sound of fabric rustling. Just the thought of Bucky naked, even an inch of skin available to your hungry eyes, made your cunt clench on nothing and you groaned in pain again.

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” he said. “There’s only one way to make it stop.”

You shook your head, shivering. “No.”

Your heart stuttered as another wash of hot, molten lava scorched through your veins and this time, you sobbed, teeth clenching.

“You can die, y/n,” Bucky whimpered and this time, his voice was right there, above you, a hand skimming across your thigh.

You made a whimpering sound at the feel of his hand, even the slightest touch like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over your head.

You opened your eyes and through tear-stained lashed and heavy lids, you looked back, seeing Bucky hunched over you, shirtless and sweating and with nothing but pain in those dark blue eyes of his.

He bit his lip, meeting your eyes, and he nodded slowly.

At this point, your entire body was shivering, sweaty, heating to the point that you thought your body would shut down.

“Let me help,” he said, wretched, rough.

When he applied the entire weight of his hand on your hip, it was like a lightning bolt had exploded under your skin. A moan ripped from your throat, utterly wrecked and rough and gone.

Bucky said something but it was lost to the smoke in your head. He pulled down the rest of your suit, exposing hardened nipples to the air, but it still wasn’t cold enough. You wiggled your hips as he dragged the rest of the fabric down your body, to your legs until he was chucking off your boots and leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

“Doll,” he rasped, pressing his fingers to your ankles, gently scraping up until he was resting both hands on the inside of your soft, plush thighs. “You’re soaked.”

You groaned, panting on the floor, feeling sticky, achy, and on fire. You pressed your hips forward, searching, searching. “Bucky, please.”

“Jesus, forgive me,” he groaned, and when you opened your eyes to meet the white lights above, he pressed a kiss to your clothed clit and you moaned salaciously.

One hand instinctively gripped at the roots of his brown hair, pulling him ever closer. The other clawed at the arm that came to rest over your tummy.

A sharp, bruising knot formed in your tummy when he used one finger to move your thong to the side and he pressed a warm, wet kiss to your bare pussy.

“Fuck, Bucky.” It came as a breath, like this was the first fresh, real breath you’d taken in years.

He groaned against your skin, the vibrations dribbling up your belly, up your spine. Your toes curled as he gave his first few strokes of his tongue, long and harsh, like he was at a watering hole after days of being parched.

“You taste like heaven, kitten,” he murmured, flattening his tongue against your clit and stroking it quickly, little flicks that sent your spine arching, your eyes closing, toes curling against his back.

He gripped your hips in both hands, digging in to his meal, each stroke of his tongue like a spark against your clit.

Your first orgasm wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to quench the heat, to cool the fire raging in your belly. Like a monstrous black wave, the pollen kept your senses awaken.

“Bucky, again,” you whined, closing your thighs against his head, guiding his mouth back to your hole. He kept licking, sucking against your clit.

Your second orgasm was like a temporary wash of relief. You smiled against each wave, hips stuttering against Bucky’s mouth.

“It won’t be enough,” he said, voice wrecked, as he kissed up your thighs, igniting another wave of harsh, hot lava to drip from your belly into your clit. You whined. “I know,” he cooed, his eyes glazed as he hovered over you. When you met his gaze, you could see that he was fighting his own seams, that he was just as fragile and wanting and needing as you were.

You reached between your bodies, skimming your nails down his hard chest, hearing the faint groan that left his lips. You patted down his belly, down until your hand wrapped around the impossibly hard, thick bulge in his suit pants.

He bowed forward, sighing, moaning as you felt him out. Something like confidence, dark cunning, invaded your senses like a drug.

“I need to be inside you so bad, y/n,” he groaned, hiding his face in the crook of your shoulder. Just the weight of his body on your chest, feeling his heat, his every breath, every tremble of his fingers as he clawed at your bare hip, your plush thighs, made you tremble with need.

Hurriedly, he pressed away from you, pushing down his pants until his drooling, hard cock sprang free. He let it flop against your belly, groaning at the feeling, and when you met his eyes, he was nothing but a feral, hungry wolf.

He claimed your mouth in a sudden, voracious kiss, tasting yourself on his lips as he ground into you. Delving his tongue passed your teeth, nipping at your bottom lip, breathing life into you with every stroke of his tongue against yours.

You gripped his shaft slowly, feeling the velvety skin, stroking him in slow, languid movements of your wrist. Your other hand found his hair, pushing his mouth closer to yours, kissing him with fervour and need. His own hands cupped your head, positioned you the way he wanted.

Then his metal fingers closed over your knee, hooking your leg over his hips, and he pulled away form your mouth in a wet, sloppy pop. He breathed, calming himself, but with you clawing at his shoulders, bringing him closer, hands stroking his dick quickly, he couldn’t stop himself. Even if he wanted to. Even if, deep down, in the dark, almost forgotten corners of his mind, he knew this was wrong, wrong, wrong - he wanted to lose himself in you. Just your taste wasn’t enough. Two of your orgasms against his lips wasn’t enough. Kissing you like he’d dreamed of doing so many times in his wet dreams - all of it wasn’t enough.

He fell to one forearm, bringing his mouth to your ear. Your hand still slicking against him. Your mouth kissing against his neck, up his jaw. Your other hand digging nails into the hard muscle of his tricep. Your hot, wet thigh pressed against his bare hip.

“I’m going to fuck you, y/n,” he grunted against your ear.

You nodded, pushing your hips up, towards him. He pulled away from your stroking hand and you felt his tip press at your wet entrance. He shivered when he thrust the tip in, feeling your hole give in to him.

You gasped as he slid in slowly. Now was when you realized just how big he was. How thick and unforgiving his cock was as he stretched your walls, impaling himself into you inch by inch.

It was a painful stretch that made your knees tremble, gripping onto his shoulders for dear fucking life.

“So tight,” he whispered against your ear. “Were you waiting for me, doll?”

His voice was like a sin committed in church.

You whimpered when he pushed in completely, seating himself to the root, until every inch of him was pressed up against you.

“Did you save this pussy for me, huh, kitten?” he rasped, pulling back and thrusting in slowly. He groaned, bowing forward. “So wet, doll, I can feel you dripping all over me.”

Who knew Bucky could be this filthy with his mouth. It made your body snap like a rubberband.

He kissed up your throat, giving you shallow, quick strokes until he could feel your gummy walls relax and when he knew you were ready, he rutted against you like a dog gone mad.

He gripped your hip, thrusting into you until your body was numb, your walls clenching against him, a pressure building just under your bellybutton.

“Bucky,” you whined, sobbed, as he kept hitting that spot in you that made sparks dance along your spine.

“I can feel you, doll,” he grunted, teeth biting into your shoulder. “Come on, darlin’, you’re almost there.”

Your mouth opened in a small ‘o’, spine arching off the floor, adding to the pressure against his dick as your walls clenched impossibly tight against him, fluttering, buzzing, until your orgasm exploded through your flesh like a bomb of sparks and fireworks.

You fell back to the floor, spine loose against the cement, your orgasm spinning through your blood as he kept rutting into you, chasing his own relief.

You weakly grabbed onto his shoulders, pressed your face against his shoulder. “Fuck me, Bucky,” you pleaded. “Fuck me like I know you’ve always wanted to.” Your voice was so small, so wrecked from him, and it drove him crazy, drilling into you without rhythm.

“So filthy, my doll,” he cooed, groaning when he heard you moan against his flesh.

He fell onto you so suddenly, robbing you of air as he ground against you, chasing his own high. And after a few sloppy, shallow thrusts, you felt his cum inside you, his seed filling every inch of your gummy walls until he was dripping out of you and onto the cement.

He breathed roughly, panting, gasping against your shoulder. And suddenly, his harsh hands became gentle on your cooling skin, stroking slowly against your waist.

Your heart slowed, numbness filling you up like a dark, tentative wave. You were finally, finally cooling down, at peace, no more pain or ache or desire making every one of your movements excruciating.

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” Bucky panted quietly, his face still hidden in your shoulder. “I never intended us to do... this.”

You shook your head. But no words formed in your mind, no coherent thought even took place as you just lay there, enjoying his weight, his heat.

“We can’t stay here,” he said. He was so quiet, so gentle. He helped you get dressed in your soiled, cold suit. He zipped you up, did his best to smooth down your hair, tried to get as much of his cum off the floor with his boot. No use.

When he got up and tucked himself back in his pants, tugging them over his hips, you couldn’t help the chuckle that left your lips.

“We’re going to be in so much trouble, Bucky,” you said, almost like if you laughed about it, it wasn’t that bad, right?

He sighed, shaking his head. “Just...” he hesitated, putting his shirt back on. “I couldn’t watch you suffer like that.”

You nodded.

“Cap will come get us,” he continued, almost reassuringly. “We’ll get some rest... shower too, and then we’ll talk about what’s next.”

You leaned against the wall, so tired, so fucked out that nothing else seemed even remotely satisfying except your bed.

“What’s next is a lot of fucking paperwork, Buck.”

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky smut #sex pollen #buckyxyou #buckyxreader #smut #buckyxy/n #buckyxyn #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x yn #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader smut #marvel #bucky sex pollen

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midryss · 13 days

Text

Little Beastie (The Ghoul x Fem Raider Reader NSFW)

Smut with plot PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU'RE A MINOR!

Warnings- Blood play, spanking, rough sex, hair pulling, fingering, p in v, creampie, knife play, addiction, choking, biting, overstimulation, light degrading, night terrors/nightmares

Word count- 10482 Yep it's a long one, you're welcome 😜

Summery-Coming off the chems and trying to turn your life around was a challenge considering you were brought up a raider, but you wanted more out of life. Wanting to escape all the rage and violence, an unlikely alliance with The Ghoul makes you question whether you're truly capable of leaving behind your psychotic tendencies, unless he can tame the beast.

Your lungs burned, muscles screamed, heart thumped hard through the adrenaline but you couldn't stop. Vicious snarls gained quickly on you as the Deathclaw chased you down.

It was just one bad affair after another with you lately. Escaping the clutches of your former raider clan by the skin of your teeth, before foolishly interrupting the dinner of one of the most feared beasts in the wasteland. All in all the past week has been pretty rough, but you were a survivor, determined and resilient.

You swerved and clambered frantically through crumbling buildings in an attempt to lose the beast on your tail. The wounds you had earned just days before from your so called "family" began to weep. There are few who can say they made it out of raider life, mostly because so few wanted to leave at all. It was all they knew after all. Being brought up following their barbaric ways most raider folk never thought twice about the savagery. Like a cult, they had you trapped. Loaded you with chems to keep you high, addicted to the feeling, to all the violence. But as the years went by, you began to refuse the chems and your thoughts became clearer. This isn't the life you wanted.

Of course your attempt at persuading the other raiders to drop the chems fell on deaf ears. You knew it was a matter of time before the "new you" would become another one of their victims. Just another nameless face piled on the bonfire. So in a final "fuck you" to your former clan you destroyed their supply. Making a very narrow escape with only the bare essentials in the process.

Those essentials didn't last long in the blistering heat of the desert. Nor did the ammo you foolishly used up on the Deathclaw you disturbed. Making matters worse you lost the crudely made pipe rifle a while back.

Skidding through the doors of what you can only assume was some sort of office before the bombs fell, you shot a quick glance behind you as the beast pounced.

"Shit!" You dove behind the pile of desks and file cabinets to avoid its clutches. Scanning around the room for something to defend yourself with, your eyes landed on a crate of alcohol at the bottom of a crumbling staircase. You ran for it, bottles clinked together as you used the momentum to pull the crate up to the second floor. Praying for a miracle, you tore rags of cloth from your dusty flannel shirt while scanning the room.

"Thank fuck" you breathed a sigh of relief snatching a little gold lighter off an office desk. Stealing a glimpse out the blown out window, you watched the Deathclaw forcing its way through the surprisingly sturdy walls below you.

"Die, bitch" you mumbled as you dropped your hastily made Molotov's. It let out a furious roar, prying itself back from the wall. Its jaws snapped at you perched at the window above it. You watched it writhe in the flames but to your surprise it wasn't you that killed it, but a powerful gunshot from behind it. You snapped your gaze up to the owner of the gun. A cowboy, clad in dusty worn leather. You tilted your head to the side curiously, squinting for a better look through the rising smoke. He marched over his latest kill through the dying flames and you saw his scarred skin, thick like leather. A Ghoul.

You let your body relax, not at all caring who your saviour was, just that you were alive to tell the tale. Slouching down in a nearby office chair, you rubbed your tired eyes in your palms and released a heavy sigh.

"The fuck do you think you're doin!?"

You didn't bother lifting your head.

What now?

The Ghoul stormed through the office, pure rage written across his marred face. Before you could react, he grabbed you harshly by your tattered shirt and thrust you against the wall.

Confusion was clear in your expression so he explained, frustration and anger laced his voice.

"Been tracking that bounty for days!" His grip on your shirt tightened as you struggled to free yourself "You and your pet just cost me the trail!

"The fuck was I supposed to know!?" You snapped, "I'm just tryna survive."

"Oh Yeah? See if you survive this, Sweetheart!" he brought the muzzle of his pistol to your jaw and you saw red. The psychotic raider in you erupted. Letting out a vicious snarl, you leapt on him like a rabid dog, teeth bared as you defended yourself like a cornered animal.

He didn't shoot. Releasing you from his grip, he brought his now free arm up to protect himself. You clamped your teeth down into the filthy leather of his coat. Initially you were aiming for his neck, not at all deterred by the textured flesh, it's still just skin at the end of the day.

The force of your attack sent him stumbling backwards, seizing the opportunity you hooked your foot around his ankle, forcing him to drop the pistol and catch himself as he collided with the concrete floor. You wasted no time in snatching up the gun and scuttling away leaving him coughing and spluttering. You didn't look back, thinking only of running once again.

You ran clumsily through buildings and across rooftops in an effort to deter The Ghoul from tracking you down. You stole from a bounty hunter after all, you knew he'd be after revenge and his pistol back. Finally you were able to scavenge some resources and re patch your wounds left by your raider buddies. You slowed your pace as you heard sounds of civilization ahead and reflected on the hell of a day you had.

You beat yourself up over that Deathclaw. It could have been so easily avoided had you not been in such a hurry. And that damned Ghoul. Would he really have killed you? Over a bounty!? Surely he could pick up the trail again, it was his job after all.

Through all your wonderings about the Ghoul, a pang of guilt struck you, knowing you had killed for less. Maybe he should have pulled the trigger. Many would say you deserved it for your previous wrongdoings, and you would have to agree.

Shaking your head, you did your best to push the self loathing away. The hardest struggle you faced being clean was the constant guilt, knowing all the shit you've put into the world, when you could have helped rebuild civilization, to create something instead of destroying it.

You focused on the sounds coming from behind a heavily barricaded gate in the middle of the dilapidated concrete jungle. It sounded like a city. You could cry at the thought of being part of a normal community, a small smile crept its way across your quivering lips as you approached the gate earning small nods of greeting from the guards.

With no caps, a stolen pistol and a face that looked like it was dragged through hell, you had no idea where to go from here. Feeling out of your depth in a bustling community of people just trying to survive, you were quickly becoming overwhelmed. Wandering aimlessly you tried to blend in while taking in your surroundings.

Until something caught your eye. A scuffle in the centre of town and a small crowd beginning to gather.

"Fuck off I had him first!" a gravelly voice threatened.

"Like hell you did!" Another replied, equally as angry.

Two men both widely built and decked out in leather armour were about to fight it out over a feeble little man cowering on the ground, his wrists were bound with rope and he’d clearly been beaten more than a few times.

"There's a hell of a bounty up for this piece of shit, I ain't giving up without a fight!"

You froze, wide eyed at the pathetic looking man on the ground.

The bounty

You grinned to yourself, sneaking through the crowd. With enough chaos you could slip the target away and return him to the Ghoul. Strike a deal with him, gain protection while you establish yourself in society, or at least till you get your own weapons and armour.

You slipped an empty bottle from a nearby barrel and launched it at one of the men through the crowd. That did it. Within moments a brawl broke out between the bounty hunters and the crowd. Slipping through the frantic bodies you pulled the target out of the chaos and didn't stop until you were both hidden in a darkened ally.

It didn't take long for the crowd to dissipate as the bounty hunters frantically searched for their prize.

"If you want to keep your balls, come with me!" you hissed as you dragged him by the collar to the patchwork metal walls surrounding the settlement. The boundaries were tall, with barbed wire wrapped around its peak. In a panic you both kicked and tore your way through the most rusted panel available, before scuttling through the tight space.

Hauling your captive from the dust you retraced your steps, running as fast as your weakened muscles could with the weight of the bounty target behind you. It didn't take long for The Ghoul to find you as you stood in the middle of the dusty road, gun to the trembling little man's temple. The Ghoul narrowed his eyes at you, he was pissed.

"Well, look what we have here," he said, surprisingly calm, despite the threatening look in his eye.

"Gonna offer you a deal, Ghoul!" You announced, a slight shake in your voice. You weren't used to bargaining, you hoped you were doing it right.

He tilted his head to the side, a questioning look on his face. When he didn't respond you continued.

"You get the target and your gun back on one condition"

"...which is?" He asked through gritted teeth, he was growing impatient.

"Take me with you for while"

The threat in his eyes was replaced with amusement as he started to laugh. You scowled, nudging the barrel of the pistol harder into the hostage's temple earning a whimper from him.

“Just until I get on my feet” you were stern but there was no denying you were practically begging for help.

"And what if I refuse, little lady? Better yet, what's stopping me from accepting this deal and just killing you, hm?"

You smirked "honour"

He laughed once more, louder this time, almost sarcastically.

"I'm returning what I took from you and I know you have some decency left in you." he stopped laughing and his harsh glare returned.

"Oh, you don't know shit about me, sweetheart"

"I know you could have shot me earlier, but you didn't" His eyes narrowed. Time was getting on and it was only a matter of time before the other bounty hunters would search outside the settlement.

"Look, other bounty hunters are on their way for this bastard right now. So you can either accept and I tag along, or decline so I can blow this fuckers brains out" You hissed the last bit in the captives ear, an almost evil gleam in your eye letting them both know you would do it and you wouldn't lose any sleep over it.

The Ghoul glanced behind you, searching for the other bounty hunters, frustration clear on his face.

"Not givin me much of a choice, Sweetheart. Fine, you got a deal"

You grinned, proudly. Relief washed over you as you tossed the target and the pistol to the floor at the Ghouls feet.

"Pleasure doin business, Cowboy!"

The Ghoul gagged his prize and tied him with his lasso for good measure before laying down ground rules.

"Now if you try to escape or run or do anythin that makes me think you're plotting, I'm gonna let my pretty little companion here take your eyes, understand" His tone was calm and he spoke with a malicious grin, making his threats that much scarier. The little man sniffled but nodded.

You had journeyed in silence for a while and it was starting to get dark. You were growing chilly as the sun began to fall and your torn shirt did little to protect you from the elements. Of course The Ghoul noticed, he knew you were tired, you were dehydrated, hungry and weak but he didn't stop. He wondered how long it would take for you to give in or just collapse, but you never did. Unknown to him you needed to keep moving. You had to keep your mind focused on something other than getting high. The pain helped, kept you distracted, made you feel something. After so many years on the chems, you forgot what it was like to be anything other than numb, fueled with rage and craving violence. The pain was hell but at least it was real.

Hours passed and finally the Ghoul decided to set up camp. The hostage wasn't in great shape either and The Ghoul needed him alive. You sat by his fire still in silence, getting lost in the flames as your eyes started to feel heavy. Your thoughts snapped to the last family you killed on a raid. Innocent blood spilled because of you and your psycho addiction. The shock shook you awake and you noticed him watching you curiously on the other side of the fire. You rubbed your eyes hard.

"I'll keep watch" You announced, the little man had already passed out and The Ghoul smirked.

"Don't trust me to stick around, Darlin?" You looked at him, it was better than telling him you were plagued by nightmares every time you sleep.

"Would you?" You asked, his smirk turned into a sideways grin.

"Clever girl" He lay back, covering his face with his hat. You were alone with only your thoughts and the crackle of the fire. Doing anything you could to stay awake and distract yourself you paced for a while, before drawing crude pictures in the dust with your knife until eventually your eyes could no longer stay open and you slipped into your nightmares once again.

You woke with a start, tears cut through the grime that painted your cheeks. Your heart raced as you looked around wild eyed, slowly coming back to reality. The sun barely broke over the horizon but The Ghoul was already awake. You caught his glance but you were unable to read him. You stood up suddenly, too embarrassed to look at him, for him to see you like this.

Fuck!

Your muscles were tense, every movement felt like you were tearing yourself apart. But the pain, the reminder that you're alive; that you’re free, was worth it. You hissed as you stretched, feeling his gaze still on you. You tried to ignore him, to compose yourself quickly before kicking the bounty target awake. He was flustered as you dragged him to his feet.

“We need food and water” You said, taking in the state of the hostage who was somehow starting to look worse than you. You heard the ghoul kicking the burned embers of the fire behind you, scattering evidence of the camp.

“So scavenge” He said, as if whatever you do is none of his business.

Raising an eyebrow you ask “think I trust you not to leave?” you cross your arms “Gonna need a guarantee, Cowboy”

He sighed, knowing the hostage would die before making it to the client at this rate. But he already lost too much time.

“Lotta work, you are, woman” He tossed the pistol to you “One mag, that’s all ya gettin. You waste it, it’s your problem.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, holstering the gun in your belt. “I’ll not stray far” you assured him. He didn’t really care but you figured you’d let him know his weapon wouldn’t be too far from his side.

The wasteland was just that, desolate, save for the odd farm house. Not even a pitiful rolemat made itself known. After hours of walking with the distant silhouette of the Ghoul still within sight, you had only picked up scraps. The stimpak was useful and you chewed greedily on some iguana bits which tasted foul but at least it was better than starving. What made you return was the increasing amounts of chems you had picked up. You figured the ghoul would have use for them and the further away from you they were the better.

You forced the deviled eggs down the bounty target's throat, letting him know he’d be dehydrated a while before gagging him once again. You were surprised to see the glee on The Ghouls face when you presented him with the jet and mysterious yellow vials you’d found in the wreckage of one of the farmhouses.

“Well, would ya look at that! Not so useless after all” he didn’t waste any time in gulping the liquid like it was holy water.

“Never seen a chem like that before” you exclaimed

“Lucky ya found it, little lady. Been looking mighty delicious for a while now” He grinned maliciously. The shock was clear on your face, accompanied by a surprising blush. You shook off the strange fluttering feeling his comment gave you.

“Don’t know how long we can go without water” You changed the subject

“Next town’ll have somethin” his mood had improved greatly since taking the medicine. The tension between you lifted slightly, making travelling together much more tolerable for the pair of you. You tried returning his gun but to your surprise he allowed you to keep it.

“Give it back when the job’s done. Might need it till then, an I ain’t protectin ya like some damsel”

Finally after hours of idle banter the next town held promise. You found a new shirt and a jacket with lots of pockets, perfect for scavenging. You filled your jacket with as much as you could carry: food, ammo, more chems and finally…

Water!

You wept at the sight. Purified water, finally! You gulped down your share before catching up with the Ghoul, a spring in your step. Your prisoner's eyes lit up as you approached, a canteen full of clear refreshing water. The Ghoul yanked him back as he lunged for you.

“Now that wasn’t very nice, was it?” you feigned offence before tossing the canteen at him.

The Ghoul raised a brow at you “That it?” you tilted your head at him in question “Thought you were the type to have fun before dishing out rewards” he explained

“Sounds like you want me to tease the poor fucker…Unless you’re the type who likes to watch” You slowly drawled, inching closer to The Ghoul.

“Oh, Darlin, I’m more of a doer than a watcher” he stepped towards you, confidently, almost asserting dominance over you. He was close. Closer than you would normally allow but something about him drew you in. He wasn’t like the raider men. He was harsh, cruel and selfish but there was still some shred of human decency in him just like you said and he was unexpectedly charming. You were curious about him, and you found yourself studying his face properly for the first time. His teasing smile fell as you caught his eyes, the way the sunlight hit them made them look like jewels, they were beautiful in that brief moment until he hardened his gaze.

“You askin to be made a meal of, Woman?” He broke you out of your trance, his tone impatient, defensive even, as if he knew you were searching him.

“N-no!” You finally shoved him away.

You forced the trio to move as long as possible until eventually your hostage collapsed. The Ghoul glared at you.

“If he dies, I’ll sell you to raiders! I’m sure they’d love to have their way with a sweet thing like you”

You scoffed “Try it, they wouldn’t know the right way if it shot them between the eyes” He stopped suddenly, tilting his head in question. You smiled innocently in response, knowing you’d said too much about your predicament and hoping to throw him off. He was clearly curious but he didn’t delve any further. The pair of you set up camp under cover of a department store, barricading the door and window with shelves and pulling old moth-eaten pillows and sleeping bags to the middle of the room. Thunder could be heard from a distance and the air began to feel thick, The Ghoul approached a small crack in the window.

“Betcha glad we stopped when we did, darlin” He shot you a “told you so” look and you narrowed your eyes at him as you lit the small candles around the room.

“Radstorm?” you asked, he nodded

Time passed in silence as you both got comfy in the sleeping bag pile. You normally enjoyed the blissful silence but this time it was almost awkward.

“So what’d he do to get a bounty on him?” You asked suddenly. The Ghoul turned his gaze from the chems he was organising to you.

“Mean to tell me you’ve been followin me round like a puppy for a bounty an’ ya don’t even know what he did?”

You thought for a moment “yup”

He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief “You’re a strange little thing ain't ya?”

“I never said I wanted the bounty by the way. But since we’re on the topic, what do you say to splitting it?” He laughed at your confidence and the radstorm outside rattled the boards on the windows.

“Ya lost me the target to start with, cost me time, stole my gun, used my ammo, made the target collapse from exhaustion and you got the balls to ask for a cut? Lucky you’re still breathin, Sweetheart!” he was amused as he called you out on your mishaps and you returned his tone with a small smile.

“I also kept both you and your target alive, remember!”

He scoffed “Fact of the matter is, I don’t owe you shit, Princess. You travel with me under my terms. Don’t like it, then leave” he spat almost daring you to leave. You crossed your arms in a dramatic huff.

“Don’t get bratty now, you chose this” he began devouring the yellow liquid from one of his vials before taking a hit of jet. You watched hungrily, his eyes fluttered closed as he breathed out a satisfied sigh. You couldn’t deny you craved the high he was on. He caught the look in your eye and the slight shine on your lips from where you had unknowingly licked them.

“Dangerous to look at a man like that, sweetheart” he teased. You blinked hard, a light blush dusting your cheeks as you avoided his gaze.

“It’s not…I mean…I wasn’t…nevermind” you trailed off, finding the seams of the sleeping bag you were on suddenly very interesting.

The little red inhaler landed suddenly beside you. You looked at him wide eyed, shocked at his generosity.

“All you gotta do is ask, princess” you picked it up with slightly shaky fingers.

“Oh…Um, thanks…but I, uh don’t…anymore” you were almost embarrassed to say you were clean, it must seem like such a trivial thing to a ghoul.

“Oh…” He realised but said nothing more as you handed it back. He shoved it as well as the assortment of other chems back in his pack to help you avoid temptation. You were surprised at the respect he showed and you smiled at him in thanks. Thoughts about teasing him crossed your mind but you refrained, revelling in the moment of genuineness.

He scanned the room before his eyes landed on scattered bottles in the corner, he let out a long whistle.

He gestured towards the bottles asking if you drank, you thought for a moment before nodding. It had been a while since you drank but you figured you deserved some reward after the shit show that had unfolded recently.

You both shared a bottle of old whisky. It burned your throat and you coughed at its foul taste, but you gradually warmed up to it as the radstorm grew louder. You chatted for a while as you carved a little chunk of wood with your hunting knife. He lectured you on whisky as most old men do but it led you to wonder.

“How old are you?” the effect of the alcohol started to set in as you began to feel fuzzy and more carefree.

He glared at you for interrupting him “How’d you end up with raiders?” he snapped back as if to say I don't ask you questions so don't ask me. You sat up, frowning at him realising you weren’t as sneaky as you thought.

“They were my clan,” you admitted after a moment before falling back onto the soft sleeping bags.

After a short silence he mumbled “Over two hundred, don’t know exactly”

“Woah!” You snapped your head to look at him, “so…you were there when the bombs dropped?” you asked eagerly.

“So this clan of yours, everyone inbred? or just you?” he returned your gaze with narrowed eyes letting you know he wasn’t comfortable with the personal questions.

“Cheeky fucker!” you launched the bottle of whisky, it landed on the concrete behind him with a smash.

“Now, now, princess. Don’t make me punish you for being a brat” The way he spoke in that low gravelly tone mixed with your now tipsy state made your heart beat quicken with excitement. He noticed the way you flustered and he chuckled “How’d a raider end up as innocent as you? Squirming like a virgin” he teased. Your blush deepened. Although you weren’t technically a virgin, your only experience had left you woefully disappointed and you never bothered with sex again afterwards.

“Ain’t drunk enough to discuss this” you admitted stumbling over the passed out captive to the other bottles rolling around behind the tills.

“Come on, princess, indulge an old ghoul”

You bit your lip and grabbed the biggest bottle of vodka on the bench.

“Fine, what do you wanna know?” You asked, removing your jacket and making yourself comfy beside him.

“These raiders of yours…they make you feel good?”

You took a big swig from the bottle before passing it to him. Shaking your head you asked naively “Should he have?” He looked at you, his eyes widened slightly.

“Oh, oh darlin, you poor thing”

“Don’t patronise me, asshole!” You glared in embarrassment but also curious to learn more you continued “Just…answer the question”

He loved watching you get hot and bothered, loved teasing you and your lack of experience.

“Course he’s supposed to make you feel good!” He answered as if it were obvious.

You took another swig getting lost in your thoughts, wondering if you even knew what sex was anymore. What else had you missed out on?

“How long did it last?” he continued

“Not long, like a few minutes maybe. Prolly a good thing considering how bad it was” You found yourself laughing along with him. It was nice having someone to confide in, even if he was teasing you.

“Well, you’ll get no judgement from me, Princess. All you gotta do is ask” he said with a charming smile.

“Thanks, Cowboy…so, that lasso see much use?” you gestured to the rope tied round the snoring bounty target.

He raised a brow “might be a bit too advanced for you, dontcha think?”

“Not for that, dumbass! I meant in fights, bounty hunting, that sort of thing” He laughed.

“It has its uses” he caught your curious gaze, pulling your face by the chin with his fingers, firmly but not too aggressive. “And yes it can be used on misbehaving brats” you gulped as the fluttering feeling returned. The urge to lean in, the urge to feel his lips against yours grew. Maybe it was the alcohol clouding your judgement or maybe his words just made you that excited.

He grinned, knowing he could have you so easily if he wanted, but he was a patient man and he loved the game “Get some sleep, Princess, you’re exhausted” he removed his hand and leaned back against the sleeping bags as you crawled back to your spot opposite him. You didn’t want to sleep, worried about the horrors you’ll see but at the same time, he was right and you didn’t want to be a burden. Accepting the fact The Ghoul would have to face your whimpering and cries in the night you fell into another restless sleep.

You were back home, at your settlement with your clan. Fellow raiders were laughing by the fire, sparring, getting high or fucking. But a deep rich red began leaking through the walls, flooding the settlement fast. You ran for the doors while everyone around you paid no mind to the flood or you. You moved so slow, frustration caused tears to roll down your cheeks and the gates were forever out of your reach no matter how hard you tried to run. The liquid rose up higher until eventually you could taste it, it spilled into your throat, the familiar metallic taste.

Blood

You thrashed around wildly, panic took over and suddenly brightness blinded you.

You blinked through the sudden white light of dawn. The Ghoul was on top of you, pinning your wrists beside your head, his chest heaved like he’d just been fighting, blood splattered across his chest. You relaxed under him, not realising how tense your body was and you heard a clink of metal hit the ground as your grip on the knife eased.

You were both speechless, so many questions whirled through your mind and finally the metallic taste hit you.

Fuck that familiar taste of blood, of victory. You were ashamed at how much you loved it, how much you still craved violence. You thought it was the chems at first but this feeling, this primal urge to slaughter…maybe it was just you. A raider, a criminal.

He tilted his head at your slight smile. He was utterly confused by you, enthralled almost as you lay beneath him, dishevelled, breathing heavily, coated in sweat, his blood staining your plump lips.

“Fuck” he hissed as he leaned in, unable to resist the urge to taste himself he slowly dragged his tongue across your bottom lip. Your mind spun, still dazed from your night terror, not yet completely aware of what happened.

He pulled away, releasing his grip on your wrists “lotta fuckin work you are, princess”

You felt the weight of him lift as he made his way to the quivering target who had been watching in horror at the animalistic transformation you went through in your sleep. Lifting your body from the ground you winced at the stiffness in your limbs. You licked the spit he left behind from your lips and rubbed your eyes trying to gather your thoughts.

“What happened?” You asked as he began dragging the makeshift barricades from the door.

“You tell me, darlin. Been restless all night, cryin and thrashin round like a caged animal” He pulled the shelves down, a cloud of dust enveloped you as you stood to help him.

“But this” he gestured to the bleeding gash across his chest “this was a result of waking a damn beast” He grinned as you blushed from embarrassment. “Shoulda known better than to wake you” He jested as if it were nothing.

“I ain’t a beast…least I’m tryin not to be.” You followed him into the light of the morning sun, shielding your eyes.

“Making backwards progress there, sweetheart. Wasteland turns people to killers, not the other way round”

“Just tired of destroyin things, y’know. Tired of bein a raider…” you trailed off not really sure how to explain your feelings. Spending so many years swallowed by anger, you weren’t sure how to express yourself any other way.

“Not what it looked like to me” he scoffed “the way you licked my blood, smilin all the while mind you. Looked damn near feral to me.”

You were glad his eyes were focused elsewhere as you lowered your head, knowing you should feel ashamed but something in his tone made you almost proud, like he was complimenting you. You bit your lip as the jumbled images in your mind started to slot into place. The way you pounced on him, knife in hand when he woke you, the adrenaline rushing through you as you straddled him, slashing as if your life depended on it. The taste of his warm blood on the knife. The worst part is, had he not flipped you both over and pinned you to the ground, you would have licked the wound.

“Sorry, I cut you, cowboy”

He laughed “The fuck you apologisin for? Lemme tell ya, not much surprises me anymore, but you…” he turned to look at you “you keep me on my toes, beastie”

You frowned at his new nickname “Y’know beastie’s not your best one”

He shrugged “Suits you more than Princess”

You rolled your eyes, but wondered if you would ever tell him your name, whether it would even be worth it. You didn’t plan on travelling with The Ghoul for long so names were never a priority, and he felt the same. The sense of anonymity felt like protection, like if all else failed at least you were never tied to one another.

You continued your routine of scavenging, while The Ghoul marched ahead, only this time he gave you his pack.

“Fill it with all the chems and valuables you find” He ordered, you weren’t really sure what was considered valuable but you did your best, jumping from building to building picking up all sorts of bits and bobs. You felt energised, despite the nightmares, a few hours sleep and opening up a bit more to The Ghoul had helped lift a heavy weight off your shoulders.

He waited for you with the target by the tall wire gate of your final destination. He let out a long whistle upon seeing his full pack.

“Hooo, now that’s what I like to see!”

“Me or the pack?” you teased

“Both, sweetheart” you smiled, enjoying the new dynamic between you. He was no longer as harsh with you and you had relaxed a little more around him.

“So what happens now?” You ask.

“Now we take the payment”

You followed behind him as he strolled through the gates, tugging on the lasso that kept the bounty target close. The familiar sound of his spurs faded into the sound of the settlement. It seemed smaller than the previous one yet somehow busier, The Ghoul watched as your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

“Wow!” you whispered in awe. Farmers had stalls set up in the middle of the dusty road, selling various produce, brahmin and travelling merchants wandered the street to trade, lights hung from building to building and purified water poured from pumps in the ground. He noticed you drifting away from him, getting caught up in the chaos so he clamped his hand on your shoulder and brought you back to his side.

“Careful, Beastie. Don’t want you getting overwhelmed” he whispered. The nature of your condition was unpredictable, recalling the same feeling you had the day you met The Ghoul, biting him in a defensive frenzy. The Ghoul took to calling it feral, neither of you really understood it yet, but the last thing either of you wanted was to be exiled. Particularly as this was one of few settlements that accepted ghouls.

“Maybe we need a safe word” You suggested, sticking close to his side but still looking around wildly, taking as much of the hustle and bustle in as you could.

“You fucked once and think you’re an expert, huh?” he teased

“Not everything is about sex, Ghoul!” you sighed.

You strolled through the town, finally reaching an old police station in a quieter part of town. He took the lead and you watched as he spoke with a man in the biggest suit of armour you’d ever seen. You hadn’t noticed your jaw drop till The Ghoul pressed his index finger to your chin and pushed it back up. You had never seen power armour up close, knowing better than to face an enemy with such strong defences. It was so much bigger than you expected, and intimidating too.

The man in the armour completely ignored you as he opened a safe on the wall behind him and presented The Ghoul with a bag of caps. In return The ghoul released the target from his Lasso and shoved him towards the man in the armour.

The Ghoul tipped his hat to him and gestured for you to follow.

“Think you deserve a reward, Darlin. Whaddya say?” Your eyes lit up.

“Can I get a gun? Oh! And some armour? And can we get some food, I’m starving!” you rambled in your excitement, wanting to see and experience everything and to your surprise, he let you.

“Hold your horses there, sweetheart, one step at a time.”

You followed him through town noticing the locals giving the pair of you a little more space than everyone else, some cast scowls and muttered cruel words under their breath as you passed by. The Ghoul didn’t seem phased by the obvious resentment people had for him. Feeling suddenly defensive you glared back at those who cast you intimidating looks.

“Easy there, Beastie” The Ghoul caught onto your silent threats and guided you towards a very questionable looking bar. The lights flickered above the door which was shoddily patched together after what you can only assume was many years of bar fights. The windows were smashed in and the walls were riddles with bullet holes.

“Just like home” you mumbled as you followed him to the bar, he laughed at your pessimism.

“Don’t be picky now, Princess” he warned as he gestured with his hand to the Mr Handy behind the bar for two drinks.

“You a regular or somethin?” you asked, scanning the building, pleasantly surprised to see the roof still on tact. There were few patrons, but none paid The Ghoul any mind. You on the other hand were new. Those who weren't passed out, watched you closely with your Cowboy companion. You shot them warning glares, as they eyed you up and down.

“Somethin like that” he followed your gaze “As much as I’d love to watch you go feral on them, I'd like a drink first” The cowboy passed you an unlabeled bottle, you assumed it was whisky, the burn in your throat was familiar.

“I knew you liked to watch, you freak” you joked as you slouched against the bar. His confidence in your ability to fight eased your mind and you found yourself starting to relax.

“Careful, Beastie” he grinned “they're no match for you but I'm a whole different monster” his tone darkened as he tested you.

“Oh really?“ you took the bait with a smirk “You sayin I can't handle you, Cowboy?“

He scoffed, “Darlin, I would break you, and you know it” he turned to see you biting your lip gently, squirming in the bar stool, avoiding his gaze. He chuckled, before tossing a handful of caps at the Mr Handy barkeep and paying for a couple of rooms for the night. You took another mouthful of the liquid fire and grimaced before taking your room key “Gonna get cleaned up” You slid your bottle closer to your companion, hinting for him to keep if safe for you before hopping off the barstool.

“Mind the peeping toms” he called as you made your way upstairs, you laughed in response hoping he was joking.

Your room was small and underwhelming. Only a bed, bath and small chest of drawers which were barely standing occupied the space, but at least it was clean and had running water. It was more than you had as a raider, there was even a little bar of soap. You rummaged through the drawers as you let the bath fill with water, hoping to find some towels or spare clothes but you found only bedsheets.

“It’ll do” you mumbled, shaking the dust from the sheet. You began undressing, tossing the discarded clothes into a bucket to clean as you soaked. The water was cold but you didn’t mind, the contrast against the sweltering wasteland heat was pleasant. You let out a long sigh as you submerged yourself in the tub, feeling content for the first time in a long while. Strange, in such a short time you and the ghoul had warmed to each other more than you had expected. You were reminded of his teasing at the store as you drank together.

All you gotta do is ask

You were embarrassed at how easily you opened up to him, and how curious you were. You had made it clear how clueless you were about sex, you scarcely even pleasured yourself, making you wonder how much you had missed out on. The foreign tingling feeling in your belly returned as you remembered waking from your nightmare, straddling him and the way his blood tasted on your knife. You shuddered as your hands drifted over your body under the water. Not really sure where to touch, you closed your eyes, imagining what The Ghoul might do. His textured flesh would feel every inch of you with confidence, every touch would have a purpose, a reason, he would start with your breasts, groping and pulling your nipples until you whined then he would work his way down…

A slight scratching noise made you pause, snapping your eyes open. You listened hard hearing the faint sounds of the town outside before it happened again.

Mind the peeping toms

You glared daggers at the wall where the scratching came from. The wallpaper was peeling and small cracks and bullet holes painted the length of it. Grabbing the bed sheet you wrapped it around your naked form and took your knife from the bed, listening as the scratching stopped. It was probably nothing, it could have been a cat or something in the walls but you didn't want to take the chance. Turning your back to the wall, you slowly began removing the sheet as seductively as possible until the scratching came back, vigorously.

“Fucking creep!” You shrieked, covering yourself with the sheet once again before plunging your knife into the wall. It was flimsier than you expected, just a thin layer of rotting wood which your knife sliced through with ease. You heard a surprised yelp and the creep scruffle away but you weren’t satisfied. The feral rage built up inside you again as you tore your way through the wall, the sheet barely providing coverage as the water from your body seeped through. He was startled, caught with his buckle un done, his jeans barely pulled up as he tried to dash for the door but you were faster, plunging your knife into his shoulder as you dragged him to the floor, releasing all your rage in a frenzy of knife slashes and unhinged verbal abuse. Everything became a blur and you didn’t even notice The Ghoul until you were being dragged, kicking and screaming away from the body.

“I warned ya, beastie” He had one arm tightly wrapped around your waist and the other gripping your knife hand as he lifted you back to your room. He shook the knife from your hand before tossing you onto the bed, pinning you to the mattress. He waited as you thrashed under him for you to tire yourself out. He smirked as the bed sheet now drenched in blood twisted around you, just barely covering your nipples as your arms were pinned above your head. You were panting heavily, growing weak from fighting against the Ghoul and your vision started to become clearer.

“There you are, Princess” he cooed as you came back to your senses. You began to relax under him, licking the blood from your lips, he groaned as he watched you, never releasing his grip from your wrists.

“Did you know” You started, through heavy breaths “You taste different to other men” he chuckled as you continued to surprise him.

“That so? How’d he taste compared to me, Beastie?”

“Disgusting!” You didn’t hesitate, showing revolution in your expression. His confident grin made your belly tingle again and he released your wrists from his grip, gliding his gloved fingers down your arms. You shivered at his touch

“You weren’t by any chance teasing that peeping tom, were you? After all I did warn you.”

You blushed and turned your face away from his fiery gaze, remembering the filthy thoughts you had of the Ghoul as you touched yourself, knowing a stranger was getting off on it.

“Didn’t think you were serious” you pouted, he brought his gloved fingers to your chin and forced your eyes to meet his. He dragged his thumb across your lips and you responded by bringing your tongue out to meet his thumb, licking the tip of the leather, letting him know how needy you were. It tasted like him, like gunpowder and metal but you craved more, just a few more drops of his blood. Your breathing quickened once more and your eyes had a wild look in them as you resisted the urge to bite

“I told ya, sweetheart. All you gotta do is ask”

He wanted you to beg, to submit to him and you would if it meant tasting him again.

“Can I taste you again?” You asked in a hushed whisper, but he was already removing his gloves.

“On one condition” he brought his now glove free hands to your bare thighs gently pulling your legs apart to fit himself between them. You gasped at his warm touch, his skin just like you imagined, leathery and firm.

“I wanna taste you too, Darlin” You nodded your head in response to his request, desperate for more. You watched as he reached for your knife on the floor and brought it to the palm of his hand with a devious smirk plastered on his face.

“Open wide, my little Beastie”

You obeyed, sticking your tongue out as he sliced the blade down the palm of his hand. Drops of warm crimson liquid landed on your face and tongue. He hovered his hand over your lips for a moment before moving it down your throat to your breasts where your hardened nipples poked through the thin fabric. His blood seeped into the fabric and he watched your chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. He curled his fingers over the thin fabric before searching your eyes for consent. The way you looked at him, pleading with dilated pupils was more than enough for him. The cool air pricked your skin and you squirmed in embarrassment, unable to look at yourself. You couldn't bring yourself to see what he saw, all the scars and bruises, your ribs and collar bones visible from malnourishment and years of addiction. You watched his eyes darken as he groaned at the sight of you.

“Fuck, Darlin, look at you…perfect” you were surprised he praised you so much considering how damaged you felt. He admired your body from above for a moment longer before smearing his blood across your lips and down your throat, leaving his prints all down your chest. His movements were rougher than you expected and you arched your back into his hand as he kneaded your breasts just as you thought he would. You licked the blood from your lips and let out a small moan as he pinched your nipples. It felt so much better when he did it.

Feeling a little braver and wanting him to share in your pleasure you picked the knife up from beside you and glided the blade across your collarbones, inviting him for a taste.

“And to think you were the one calling me a freak. Look at you know, filthy little thing” his tone became almost a growl as he took the knife from you, gently pressing the blade against the soft flesh of your breasts before carefully slicing. You inhaled sharply and flinched away from him but he was quick, only leaving a small cut and the cold sharpness of the blade was quickly replaced by the warm wetness of his tongue. You gasped and panted beneath him, throwing your head back against the mattress as he teased your nipples with his fingers and tongue. Grasping his shoulders you pulled him closer, signalling your want for more. He chuckled against your skin

“So needy”

You moaned in frustration.

“Look at me, Princess” You hesitated but did as he asked, your mouth opened and eyes grew wide at the beautiful sight before you. He was panting, hat tilted slightly casting a perfect shadow across his face. His eyes were overflowing with lust and your blood painted his lips and chin beautifully. He smirked

“Tell me what you want”

“...Y-you” you barely recognised your own voice as it whispered desperately for him.

“C’mon Princess tell me” he drawled as he brought his face up to your neck, nibbling and licking, awaiting your response.

“P-Please, fuck me” you moaned.

“Good girl” he growled before biting your neck, his hat tumbled from his head and onto the floor as his actions became rougher, more impatient. You cried out in pleasure as your body shivered, your grip on his shoulders tightened and you arched your back, desperate to feel more of him.

He attacked your neck with his teeth as his hands grazed your thighs, you spread your legs wider to give him access and he smirked against your blood smeared skin.

Growing tired of his teasing you thrust your hips up to meet his, feeling his hardened cock restricted in his pants. He groaned, thrusting himself against your wet folds again before dragging his fingers down your thigh. He pulled away from your neck to watch your face twist in pleasure as his fingers slid the length of your folds before inserting a finger. You released a long moan as you felt him slowly slide his rough finger in and out.

“fuck, you're so wet, Sweetheart. I turn you on that much?”

All shame abandoned you as you thrust your hips into his hand, all you thought of was him, wanting to feel him, to let him use you.

“y-yes, please…more” you whined, moving your grip from his shoulders to the fabric of his shirt.

“Aww well since you asked so sweetly, Princess” he slid a second finger inside you, stretching you as his movements grew quicker and more forceful.

“fuck!” Your moans bounced off the walls and the tingling feeling in your belly grew. Your body tensed and the grip on his shirt tightened as pleasure soured through your body. You had just barely gotten used to being stretched by his second finger when he suddenly added a third. Your eyes widened and you let out a pleasured gasp at the sudden intrusion. He was growing impatient and his fingers were not as gentle as they once were. Your soaked pussy clenched around his fingers as the pleasure built into something almost overwhelming but to your dismay he pulled out.

“n-no, please… S’too good” you whined desperately, grabbing his arm to guide his hand back to your aching cunt. His touch was intoxicating, everything he did was better than you imagined, you had never felt anything like it and you needed more.

“Oh, Darlin” he loved the effect he had on you, making you drunk on pleasure, knowing he was the only one who made you feel so good. “You cum only when I allow it” his eyes narrowed and his tone was dark, he was so much more intimidating than before but it excited you. He smeared the blood from his palm up your neck and you leaned your head back to allow him access, squeezing gently at the sides of your throat a slight smile graced your lips as you heard his free hand unbuckled his belt. Your arms fell from his shirt as you brought one hand to play with your tits and the other to mimic his movements on your pussy.

“Like it rough, little slut?” he growled as he watched you play with yourself, his grip around your neck tightened as he freed his cock from his pants, stroking the length of it. You couldn't find the words to respond, your thoughts only focused on the heightened pleasure shooting through you.

You wanted so badly to cum, to finally feel release but he wouldn't let you. He roughly grabbed the hand that was stroking your pussy and pinned it above your head.

“Not yet, Princess” he cooed as he brought the hand around your throat to the back of your head. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, guiding your head up to meet his fingers, sticky with your wetness. He traced his thumb across your lips and you brought your tongue out to meet it, moaning at the taste of yourself on his leathery flesh. You hoped his focus was entirely on your face as you crept your fingers back to the wetness of your folds, but he knew. He glared harshly at you for disobeying him. Snatching his thumb from your mouth he pulled you onto your knees hard by the hair.

“I warned you, Darlin, you cum when I allow it” You hissed at the sudden pain in your scalp.

“hands behind your back” you obeyed. “good girl, tongue out” he gave you short orders and after obeying each one he made sure to praise you.

He guided your head down to his cock, saliva dripped from your open mouth, sliding from your tongue onto his cock. He was bigger than the raider but not frighteningly big, and despite the mottled texture of his skin you could still see thick veins. You took the hint and slowly ran your tongue around the tip. He kept you steady by your hair but allowed you to go at your own pace, not wanting to push you too far. After tracing small circles with your tongue you took him gradually into your mouth, gently bobbing your head feeling the base of him with your tongue. He tasted familiar, like his blood there was a distinct metallic taste to his textured flesh and you loved it. You could feel your pussy dripping from anticipation, your fingers intertwined behind your back just like he asked. “atta girl” he groaned as he began to rock his hips back and forth. Feeling a little too confident you tried to take him into your throat but you struggled, frightening yourself as you gagged, he pulled himself from your mouth with a chuckle.

“Too eager, Sweetheart” you looked up at him, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as you pouted.

“You can make it up to me by spreading those perfect legs” you didn't need telling twice. Lying on your back you raised your arms above your head showing him your obedience, waiting for your reward. He slapped his cock against your clit a few times before rubbing it up your soaked cunt, earning an excited moan from you as you thrust your hips up, grinding against him.

“Please…” you begged. It was shameful how much you craved him but you didn't care, your thoughts were focused only on him filling you up, on finally chasing your release.

“such a filthy little slut” he growled as he slid himself inside with almost no resistance. You threw your head back against the mattress once more. An animalistic moan escaped you as he finally filled you up with his fat cock. You were tight but not too tight, gripping him perfectly as he slowly pulled back then slid himself deep inside again, savouring every inch of your pussy squeezing him.

“Fuck! ” he hissed as he picked up the pace. Pleasure rippled through your body, and your jaw hung loose letting out shameless animalistic sounds. You allowed his fingers to invade your mouth, twirling your tongue around them messily, saliva dripping down your chin as you moaned in ecstasy. He kept your gaze locked with his as he pounded into your pussy mercilessly. The grooves of his cock rubbed against your walls and you spread your legs wider inviting him deeper.

“Think you can handle more, Princess?“ he groaned,almost begging to be rougher with you. He slid his fingers from your lips allowing you to moan a breathy “yes” in response. Almost immediately he sat upright on his knees grabbing you tightly by the hips and pulling your body up to meet him with a hard slap. The new angle filled you perfectly as you arched your back to accommodate his length inside you. Your eyes rolled back as waves of pleasure crashed through your body, you grabbed fistfulls of the bedsheet beneath you as your orgasm crept closer with every hard thrust.

“P-please, let me cum” you begged

“Go on, Princess, cum for me” that was all you needed to send you over the edge, you screamed as you drenched him, squirting over the fabric of his shirt. Your body trembled as you pussy tightened around him, squeezing his cock as he continued to thrust into you.

“atta girl“ he praised riding you out of your high before pulling out, you whimpered feeling empty without him but it didn't last long. He dragged you by the ankles to the edge of the bed and flipped you on your front bringing your hips up so you were standing over the rusty bed frame. You were still reeling from your first orgasm, your legs wobbled and you weren't prepared for him sliding forcefully back inside your swollen cunt from behind. You let out a surprised gasp at the new position. He somehow felt bigger, reaching a new depth of your soft cunt which sent sparks of pleasure through you. You arched your back to accommodate his length, throwing your head back, your jaw hung open releasing lewd sounds you didn't even know you could make. His grip around your hips was tight, fingernails dug into your flesh, the pain was perfect, matching the burning pleasure in your gut.

Your legs barely held you up as he fucked you over the bed, overstimulated and almost unable to keep up you moaned incoherently, trying to tell him how good it felt. Your fists clenched the bloodied bed sheets beneath you as you thrust your hips back to meet his. Suddenly he brought his bloodied hand up from your hips and cracked it across your ass cheek with a hard slap. You let out a surprised moan at the sudden pain but found yourself asking for more.

“fuck, you really do like it rough, don't ya?“

“A-ah! Y-yes!“ you whined, bringing your fingers up to stroke your clit. You felt filthy, touching yourself as a Ghoul fucked you but the thought of your controversial behaviour only heightened the pleasure.

“Such a good little slut, you like it when I use you?”

“yessir!” you whined as he thrust hard into you, making sure to fill you up with all of his cock. His hand smacked your ass again, the stinging feeling of the spanking mixed with his dick pounding relentlessly made your body tense up as you felt yourself approaching the edge once more. Unable to keep yourself upright anymore you shoved your face into the bloodied sheets, taking in the metallic taste as your jaw clenched around the fabric. You let out muffled moans as your legs shook violently. He grabbed you by the waist with both hands once again, pulling your ass back to meet his strokes so hard you bounced on his cock over and over until your legs gave out and your cunt clenched around him. He didn't let up, pounding you into the mattress as your body twitched and your muscles gave out. You were exhausted, your pussy was sore, your cum dripped down your legs, drenching his pants and you loved it.

“Knew I’d break ya, Darlin” he laughed, sliding out of your cunt to manoeuvre you. You couldn't respond, your mind was cloudy. You let out a small whimper as he threw your legs back on the bed pulling them together, he straddled your bright red ass cheeks and slid inside you one again. You lay gasping and moaning as he rode you, pleasure spiked all over your body. You felt him everywhere, his hands groping every inch of you, his touch felt electrifying.

“Just a bit longer, Princess, you feel so fuckin good!” he praised and you smiled weakly at his words. Hoping to please him more you brought your arms behind your back. Reaching for your ass cheeks you groped the soft flesh, pulling them apart for him to see himself fucking your pink cunt.

“good fuckin girl” he growled as your cunt squeezed his throbbing cock. He was close, his thrusts became messy and his breathing became heavy.

“F-fuck,” you moaned as the new rhythm sent spasms through your body, another orgasm approached. “please…” you begged, but you couldn't get the words out. You gripped the soft flesh of your ass cheeks harder, stretching your pussy wider, feeling the grooves of his cock abuse you.

“Cum inside” you cried as the last tidal wave of pleasure flooded through you. Your pussy clenched around him as he fucked himself to completion in your wet hole.

“fuck!” he growled, leaning over and biting your shoulder as he pumped his seed deep inside you. You moaned at the blissful pain you felt as your pussy milked his cock. He slowly pulled back leaving just the tip in before pushing his length back inside, forcing his cum deep within your sore cunt until he was satisfied.

He finally released you from his grip, sliding from your abused cunt and tucking himself back in his pants. You hissed at the stinging sensation from his radiated cum and lay completely immobilised on the mattress. Fluids dripped from your folds and down your thighs, blood sweat and saliva covered your body.

“gonna need some radaway” you broke the silence with a weak voice. He collected his hat from the floor with a chuckle before looking over your broken form with pride.

“Maybe a stimpak too,” he suggested. You smiled.

“Mind if I travel with you a while longer, Cowboy?”

He sat on the end of the bed with a chuckle “Stay as long as you want, Beastie.”

223 notes · View notes

onmywayend · 22 hours

Text

SH|You are mine (M)

Mafia boss Seonghwa x Dragon hybrid Reader

"Mr. Park, this is a list of hybrid breeds available on the market." Seonghwa took the file handed to him by his subordinate without any expression on his face and flipped through the pages without reading the descriptions. Seeing a hint of dissatisfaction on Mr. Park's face, his subordinate began to panic, fidgeting like an ant on a hot pan.

"That's it?" Mr. Park's face was filled with displeasure, his eyes bursting with repressed anger. However, he controlled his emotions and didn't unleash his frustration on his subordinate.

"Yes… Yes, these are the only hybrids available in the market." his subordinate stammered nervously, unable to speak clearly, and beads of sweat began to form on his forehead.

"Can't you understand my orders?" Mr. Park coldly stared at his subordinate who was constantly apologizing. Although his face showed no signs of emotion, his gaze was so sharp that it felt like he could tear the person in front of him apart.

"I wanted the strongest and most ferocious hybrids, not these little kittens and bears!" He threw away the documents in his hand, scattering the papers all over the floor like a chaotic white carpet.

The subordinate quickly picked up the scattered documents from the floor, apologizing without looking up, and then hurriedly left the room. "Tsk… a bunch of useless people." Seonghwa drank the red wine placed on the table, the icy sensation not dampening the anger in his heart at all.

It had been months, and he still hadn't found the hybrid he desired ─ a dragon. It was just a rumor, no one had ever seen a real dragon because they were extinct. Yet, there were always rumors about hybrid breeds that claimed to have seen dragons in the past. Although he didn't know if they were true or not, Seonghwa firmly believed in their existence.

His obsession with dragons was well known within the Mafia world, and everyone just thought he was a fool lost in a fantasy world. His room was filled with dragon decorations, even his clothes, his villa… you could imagine that there were traces of dragons everywhere. Perhaps his sincerity towards dragons had touched the heavens because one day, he finally met the dragon he had dreamed of ─ you.

"Wanna join us, Seonghwa?" Hongjoong, one of the strongest mafia leaders and also Seonghwa's best friend, invited him to a black market auction once again.

"Again? I've already gone ten times this month, and none of them had what I wanted."

"C'mon Hwa! Maybe this time you'll find the dragon you want!"

"You say the same thing every time."

"But this time I have an extraordinary intuition, trust me."

"Fine." Seonghwa couldn't resist Hongjoong's request and once again drove to the remote black market auction.

A mysterious and solemn atmosphere pervaded the surroundings of the auction. Tall ancient stone columns stood in the hall, and large black curtains hung from the dark red ceiling, casting a dim light and creating a mysterious ambiance.

The auctioneer, a mysterious middle-aged man, dressed in a luxurious black feather coat, had sharp eyes and a cold smile. He waved a mysterious black auction baton in his hand, occasionally tapping the table to guide the auction.

In the showcase area, treasures were displayed in glass cabinets, shimmering under the dim lights. Rare treasures, magical artifacts and various forbidden items attracted the attention of the spectators. However, Seonghwa had no interest in these treasures; instead, they wore down his patience. He sat with his legs crossed, pursing his lips in dissatisfaction, and whispered, "Is this your extraordinary intuition, Kim Hongjoong?"

"Well, just wait a little longer! It's not here yet!" Ha! If Seonghwa really got angry, he would definitely suffer. With that in mind, Hongjoong felt just as anxious as Seonghwa's subordinate. The auction continued, and Seonghwa's patience was already wearing thin; he straightened his clothes, ready to leave.

"Hey, Seonghwa! Where are you going? It's not over."

"I'm leavi─"

"And now!! This is our final item up for auction! Or should I say, a living creature! Here we are!! A dragon hybrid!" The host dramatically unveiled the red cloth covering the cage, revealing you huddled in the corner, trapped in the cage. Your pitiful appearance broke hearts but gave rise to a terrifying desire for conquest.

Upon hearing the word "dragon," Seonghwa's face suddenly lit up with joy and surprise, as if he were ready to jump up in ecstasy.

"The starting price is ten million─"

"One hundred million!!"

He walked directly towards the stage, crossing over the other spectators, and shouted out a staggering number before the host could even finish his sentence. The host was ecstatic, pounding the table frantically. "Sold!"

He knelt in front of the cage, his eyes shimmering, his face showing a smile that was about to burst into laughter. Your expression, on the other hand, was one of fear as you tightly wrapped your tail around yourself, trying to stay away from the man in front of you. Your eyes conveyed sadness and terror, devoid of any dragon's majestic presence.

"It's okay, my little dragon. Everything is alright! I will shower you with my love." He smiled indulgently, his eyes warm but filled with endless lust.

His words were not empty promises but real commitments.

You found yourself in a grand estate, far removed from the typical confines of a cage. There were no bars, no metallic scent in the air. As you looked around in awe, you were led to a luxurious bath by a group of women who washed away the dust from your body, replacing it with the sweet fragrance of flowers.

"Ah, you've arrived, my dear." The man greeted you as you entered the room, seated elegantly at his desk with crossed legs. He was the most striking man you had ever laid eyes on.

"Are you the one who purchased me?" you inquired timidly.

"Yes," he confirmed.

"Master, how may I be of service?" You recalled the teachings of the black market lord - as a slave, your purpose was to please your master. There was no room for defiance, only unwavering loyalty.

"No, that is not what I want," he replied.

"I beg your pardon, master." You immediately knelt, unsure of your transgression but willing to accept fault as per the 'rule'.

"No, a dragon should not cower like this." Seonghwa approached you slowly, noticing your trembling form. He must have been ready to strike you.

"I apologize…" you began, bracing for impact. However, instead of a blow, he gently patted your head and knelt down in front of you. His gaze held a mix of tenderness, concern, and a hint of frustration. How could a dragon hybrid, known for its courage, exhibit such timidity?

What had the black market done to you?

"Shhh, there is no need for apologies. You have done nothing wrong,"

"But…" You tried to speak, only to have his finger gently silence you, his touch grazing your cheek. Blushing, you realized how close you were, enveloped in his breath and the intoxicating scent of flowers that surrounded him. You tentatively brushed his palm, savoring the unfamiliar sensation of his soft touch.

"Hm, so cute," he remarked, offering you a rare compliment.

"No one has ever said that to me."

"How could they not? You are beautiful, my dear." Leaning in, his finger traced your lower lip. "I will shower you with my love. That is my promise." He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, testing the waters, showing his desire but not imposing it.

Your cheeks flushed deeper, eyes wide with a mix of excitement and apprehension, yet you made no move to resist. The overwhelming rush of emotions left you feeling as if you were floating on air.

"Tell me if you want more."

"Yes, my master."

"Don't call me master, call me hwa." He said before left your chin and kissed your red lips. Your lips touched gently, soft and warm, and endless sweetness flowed between your lips. You wrapped around his neck as he slid his hands under your thighs, picked you up, and placed you at the bed.

"You're burning up, Y/N. Do you have a fever?" He placed his hand on your forehead, feeling the heat radiating from your body. A look of concern crossed his face as he realized how high your temperature was. Suddenly, you grabbed his collar and kissed him, surprising both of you with your boldness.

"Mmm…I feel so hot, your scent is intoxicating…I can't control myself…"

"Are you…going into heat?" It dawned on him then, the reminder from the auction host about your upcoming rut. He knew he should have prepared for it, ensuring you had everything you needed. Seonghwa wanted to help you, to take care of you. He just didn't anticipate how sensitive you would be, how a simple kiss could trigger your heat.

"It's okay, love. I'll take care of you." He drew you close, your bodies pressing together as he kissed you passionately. Closing his eyes, he savored the softness of your lips against his, feeling a rush of warmth flood through him. You responded eagerly, parting your lips to deepen the kiss. Your breaths mingled, creating a sweet and heady sensation. His hands tenderly caressed your hair, your cheeks, before settling on your waist.

"Have you done this before?"

"Yah…"You nodded. "They had put me in the cold water tub for a few days to cool me down…" "No, no. I am not saying this." His brow furrowed once more, a surge of anger bubbling up inside him. He was well aware of the inhumane methods employed by the black market, yet the idea of you suffering was something he simply could not bear.

"Did I say something to upset you?" You trembled, haunted by memories of your former master who would unleash his fury on you in fits of rage. Seonghwa, however, seemed different, kind-hearted and gentle.

"No, it's just… have you had sex before?" "No," you replied softly, trailing off. "This is a nice way to relax without having to soak in a bath." He paused, meeting your innocent gaze. It was clear that he was the one struggling, not you. His desire stirred within him, causing him to grow hot and breathless. Your gentle touch drove him to the brink of madness.

"Are you sure you want this? You can say no if you're not comfortable." Your eyes widened in surprise, never expecting him to give you the option to refuse.

"Does it feel good…?"

"Yes, it does," he assured you. Leaning in, he kissed your lips once more, his expression filled with tenderness.

"Please. I want this." You wrapped around his shoulder and pulled him closer.

"As you wish, my dear." Pressing his body against yours, he felt the rhythm of your breaths syncing. His arousal nestled between your thighs, creating a delicious friction against your lower core. The sensation was so pleasurable that you instinctively parted your legs, granting him greater access. He couldn't believe his eyes as he removed your silk pajamas, revealing a chest marred by scars and bruises that tugged at his heartstrings.

Bowing his head, he tenderly traced his tongue over your scars, as if seeking to heal them. His kisses trailed down to your nipple, where he suckled and licked, eliciting soft moans from you as you wrapped your arms around his head, swept away by the wave of new sensations.

Both of your clothes were thrown to somewhere, lying naked and making out on the bed. He sat up straight and aimed at your entrance. "Tell me if it hurts, hm?" As he entered you, a rush of excitement caused your juices to flow, creating a sensation of intense pleasure. "So wet for me," he whispered into your ear, his movements slow and deliberate, allowing you to adjust to his presence inside you.

You arched your back, closing your eyes and forming a soft 'O' with your mouth as the unfamiliar yet satisfying feeling of being penetrated washed over you. Your shy moans were met with his encouragement to be louder, igniting a fire within you.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you urged him to go deeper, the wetness and tightness of your core driving him wild with desire. His groans mixed with your moans, creating a symphony of pleasure that filled the room.

"I can't hold back, you feel too good," he confessed, increasing the pace of his thrusts, each one sending waves of pleasure through your body. His words of admiration fueled your passion, making you feel desired and perfect in his eyes.

With a swift movement, he repositioned you on your side, promising comfort as he entered you once more. The new angle intensified the sensations, leaving you dizzy with pleasure as he continued to move with a fervor that matched your own.

"Ah~hwa~"As the sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, you boldly called out his name, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. In that moment, everything felt perfect, as if you were made for each other in this dance of passion and desire.

"Say my name again or I fuck you harder." He looked at your bouncing chest and met your innocent yet lust gaze, his cock twitched as all of the heat rushed to the tip. Sperm flowed out a bit and mixed with your juices. This feeling was incredible.

"Hwa, please." "Shit!" He flipped you over and thrust from behind. You arched your back and threw your head, moaning from the endless pleasure.

"Such a good girl."

"Th…thank you…hwa…"

"Oh? You like praise, huh? You are sucking me in, did so well, babe."

His chest pressed against your back, intertwined with your fingers, kissing your nape and leaving so many bite marks. You turned your head and kissed him. His movement grew more intense, the speed reaching an indescribable level but not painful at all. Your groaning and moaning became choppy as if something grabbed your throat and made you breathless.

"Knot…" You murmured. You knew it was impossible for a human to knot but your most intimate space was already wide opened. You needed him to cum, cum in that space to calm you down from the rut. "Please…hwa…cum inside me." "Of course, my darling." He flipped you over and placed you both legs on his shoulder, gripping your kneel and pushed as deep as possible…

You nested in his arm while your back was pressing against his chest. He left a trail of kisses on your face and neck, giving you the best after care. His cock was still inside you then his sperm would not flow out.

"Does it hurt?" You shook your head and he pecked at your head.

"You won't be in the cage again, I promise." Your tears welled up in your eyes and you turned your head.

"Thank you, hwa." He smirked and caressed your cheek.

"Don't cry, everything is alright." He gave you a deep kiss before pulling out and flipping you over.

"You are mine, only my little dragon." He leaned down and fucked you again.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez oneshot #ateez smut #ateez x female reader #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez imagines #ateez seonghwa

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