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the-californicationist · 5 months

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they help you practice

Team 141/Reader - Gangbang TW: explicit consent given, polyamory, vaginal sex, anal sex, face-fucking, double penetration, spitting, come as lube, bulging, Ghoap sex, bukkake, degradation, orgasm control. Let me know if I missed one, I'm sorry. Proceed with caution, please.

You let yourself into his office, shutting the door behind you, and stood before him at a sharp parade rest, waiting to be informed about your fate.

“Sergeant, thank you for coming. There is no need for formalities. This is just a chat.”

You moved to a more relaxed rest and nodded.

Price continued,

“This is going to be quite the ask. Would you be willing to perform duties which are…outside of your current scope?”

“Yes, sir,” you responded just as you should have, as you were trained to, but Price was hoping you would understand exactly what you would be getting yourself into.

“I need you to go undercover to a Konni restaurant cover in Minsk…as bait. Am I making myself clear?”

A pause. But, to your credit, you didn’t flinch. You did raise an eyebrow and ask a clarifying query,

“What kind of bait, sir?”

“Our next target, Dimitri Sokolov, will be at the Black Pearl bar in Minsk tomorrow, and we won’t get a better chance to lure him away from his bodyguards. He almost never makes public appearances, so he must be making an exception. Sokolov has,” he paused for a moment, trying to find the words, making general, suggestive motions over his own chest, “particular tastes in his women. You just so happen to have the right profile for the job. Again, this is not an order, Sergeant. I need to know if you’re willing to accept.”

“Yes, sir,” you tried to appear fully in control. You knew your breasts were large, but you had never been asked to use them as a weapon. There was a first time for everything, you supposed. You would do anything to help the team.

The captain loved your composure. He knew you would be perfect for the job.

“Good. Let's brief the team.”

Price walked with you down to the meeting room at the end of the hall and found Soap, Ghost, and Gaz sitting in the desk chairs every way except the way they were designed, lounging over the furniture like big cats, melting into the various surfaces they encountered. They fixed themselves when the captain walked in.

“Gentlemen,” Price opened, “this is our bait. Her code name is Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”

You nodded politely and resumed a semi-formal rest position.

The men had noticed you around the base but hadn’t been formally introduced. You were a desk rider, but still, you were hard to miss. The baggy military clothing had almost managed to conceal a bounty of soft curves, but your lush body persisted beneath it, and the outlines of your feminine form made heinous suggestions in the fabric. Unfortunately for them, you didn’t hang around the gym or the common area enough for them to have generated a fully accurate image of your enticing body, but they were certain it was delicious. They watched you like peckish wolves. Waiting hungrily, shifting in their seats in anticipation. For what, you weren’t sure.

“Rabbit is going undercover for us to take down Sokolov, Vladimir Makarov’s new shipping controller. He has a particular penchant for,” Price paused just long enough for anyone to understand his true meaning, “certain types of women. Rabbit fits the mold, so all she needs is the gear and the training.”

Price cut open three large cardboard boxes to reveal slinky dresses and a number of questionable garments.

“I’ll need to try them on,” you offered, “Do you want me to get changed, Captain?”

“Sounds good. Come back in when you’re all set,” he smiled, enjoying the view as you left the room.

Ghost crossed his arms, clearly with quite a mouthful to share and but refusing to. Gaz stared down at the knife he was playing with, bashful. But Soap would not be cowed, and as soon as you left, he said,

“Feeding her to the sharks like bait, Captain? I dinnae ken any of us was so expendable.”

“Soap,” Price warned, “the sergeant is more than capable of handling -”

“I wasnae askin’ about the lassie’s capabilities. Send her in to slit his throat with a knife in her hand, for all I care. But to send her in unguarded, unarmed? No. It’s not right,” Soap crossed his arms.

“He’s got a point, Captain. Why take the risk of losing an operative?” Ghost spoke coldly.

Price furrowed his brow at their short-sightedness,

“And do what, exactly? Have the Russians scurry back underground at the first hint of an assassination attempt? We’ve failed that mission three times, boys. I’ll not have this go south again.”

“I’m sure she is capable, Captain. But, is Rabbit committed to this plan?” Gaz asked.

“Sure,” Price tried to sound reassuring, “we spoke in my office. She agreed to come down here. Besides, she’ll have you three as backup. You won’t let anything happen to her.”

Gaz did not seem convinced. All three soldiers wore a scowl on their faces, and even though Ghost’s was obscured by his mask, his body language communicated his displeasure. Price carefully ashed his cigar to renew the glowing tip, taking a long drag while they waited for you to return.

You were back without too much of a delay, but when you walked in, your colleagues were visibly stunned. They didn’t recognize you at first. A short black dress had replaced your camouflage fatigues, showing off miles and miles of smooth, shining skin. Your thick thighs stretched the silky fabric, and your ass threatened to escape from the edge of the dress with every step you took. Your new heels clacked sharply against the cold concrete, making your legs flex and tense, showing off your well-formed musculature. You did not miss squat day very often, apparently.

But, the assets you were trying to use for this particular mission were the real stars of the show. Your heavy breasts battled against the low dip of the dress, providing a deep display of cleavage, hinting at pink perky nipples hidden just below the line of the black silk. Your tits jiggled as you struck the floor with each careful step, making the room full of men breathe a little heavier at the sight.

Soap’s big mouth betrayed them all,

“Christ in Heaven. There you are, bonnie.”

Ghost backhanded him hard on the shoulder. Price glowered.

You had put on a little more makeup than might be socially acceptable in an office setting, making the suggestive outfit complete. Finally, as you stood at the head of the meeting table, you took out your task force regulation braid and pulled your fingers through your hair, breaking up your long waves as they spilled down your neck and back.

You smiled,

“Well, do I look the part?”

Price coughed, inhaling too much smoke on accident. Gaz hadn’t moved since you walked in the room. He just stood there, dumbfounded, arms held at an odd angle as if frozen in time. Ghost cleared his throat to save them,

“Yes, Rabbit. You clean up very nicely, don’t you?”

“Well,” you sighed, “this is sort of the raunchiest outfit I found in the box. I was going to go with something a bit more casual, but I thought I’d better be noticeable if we’re going to nail this asshole.”

Gaz finally came out of his locked state, aghast,

“Noticeable? Sweetheart, this is more than noticeable. Goddamn.”

“You think it’s too much? I don’t really know what would get his attention,” you shrugged, looking shy as you confessed, “I don’t get asked out very often.”

“You could go out with me, lassie,” Soap edged his way closer to her, slinking around the table, “We’d have a hell of a time, so we would.”

“Don’t listen to Johnny,” Ghost stood in front of him a bit, snaking an arm around your cinched waist, “He thinks takin’ his birds to the dog races is a good date idea.”

“Well, isn’t it?” Soap protested.

Gaz grabbed your hand tenderly, examining your fingers like they were a precious work of art,

“Maybe you could come with me to Berlin next weekend, babes. There’s a killer music festival going on, and we could have a really good time. How does that sound?”

“Boys,” Price interrupted, “I’m sure she has plenty of work to finish here; can’t just be galavanting off with you muppets. In fact, why don’t you stop by my office after this mission, bunny rabbit, and we can work on your projected shipment dates together? You know, I used to be a logistics man, myself.”

Ghost rolled his eyes at the Captain,

“Please, logistics? You drove a truck back and forth on base delivering food to the canteen twenty years ago. I’ve read your file.”

The men all started talking over each other, forgetting your presence in favor of coming out on top of the dog pile. You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons.

Slipping one skinny strap down your shoulder, you spoke through the din,

“You know, this dress can be strapless. Do you think Sokolov wants it up…” you locked eyes with Captain Price, seeing his throat swallow hard as he watched you in the silence you had created, “...or down?”

The other soldiers were stunned, unable to look away as you slipped both straps off of your shoulders and tucked them into your dress. One strap was still partially visible, and Ghost slowly moved one gloved finger up your arm, tracing your skin lightly, and finished tucking it in for you. He lingered, caressing the side of your breast as he removed it.

“You gonna be able to seduce this Russian bastard, Sergeant? Or, do you need some practice?” Price asked with a low, threatening tone.

The whole room held its breath waiting for your answer. The four men towered over your short frame, casting shadows over you like black spells, hoping you would relinquish your control over them. All of their eyes watched as you slowly, achingly lifted a hand and traced it up Gaz’s canvas pant leg, stopping when you discovered the heavy head of his cock, hardening down toward his knee. With the back of your hand, you pet it like a skittish animal, reveling in its smoothness and warmth. Your eyes found his as they fluttered, blood rushing through his body in a panic,

“I think I could use some practice, Captain.”

You felt Gaz’s rod leap at your answer. He bent down to kiss your mouth, slanting his lips fiercely against you.

Soap came up behind you, gripping your ass through the silk of your dress roughly,

“We’ll help you, lass. We’ll help you practice, won’t we, boys? Jesus, you smell so good,” he buried his face in your neck and sucked against your skin.

Ghost found your other hand and held it tightly, using it to steady you from Soap and Gaz’s assault. Price moved Gaz out of the way, earning himself a glare, and peeled the dress off of you in one fell swoop, revealing the expanse of uncovered skin underneath.

“Holy shite,” the captain breathed, whispering his lament, “Sergeant, where are your knickers?”

“I guess I forgot them, Captain,” you blushed, batting your eyes up at him, doing actual damage to his psyche.

He didn’t have much time to savor the moment though because Ghost was shoving him out of the way to pick you up by the thighs to lay you on the table. The giant knelt between your legs, pulling you by the knees until your ass was hanging off of the low wooden planks. He lifted his mask just enough for you to see him lick his lips over sharp, white teeth before feasting on your wet folds, letting the cloth of the balaclava hide most of his efforts.

Ghost created a soothing, yet electrically wet warmth in your core which made you keen loudly, only to be muffled by Price’s smoky kiss. You could taste the burned tobacco on his tongue and your skin was scraped by his thick mustache.

Gaz’s voice got your attention. He had freed his cock from his pants and started to stroke it, standing by your side and playing with your breasts with his free hand as Price savaged your mouth. He tugged on your nipple and told you,

“You know, Rabbit, you’re going to have to really put yourself out there tomorrow. Show him these gorgeous tits of yours. Make him think you’re hungry for his cock,” Gaz rubbed his head, hard and hungry for you, “Can you do that? Let us see how good you can be, princess. We need you to ace this mission”

You felt Ghost dip his hard cock between your pussy lips, distracting you from Price’s tongue in your mouth. You broke the kiss and looked up at Ghost, dazed, into his masked face,

“I promise, sir. I’ll be good,” you looked around at all four of the men, reaching out to grab Soap’s cock that he was stroking for you, “Will you show me how?”

You didn’t give Soap time to answer. The Scot gasped as you devoured him, sucking him down into your throat, making yourself gag as he fucked your throat in and out in long thrusts. He tangled his fingers in your hair. Ghost matched his rhythm below you, pounding his cock into your wet hole. You thought you could feel something on his dick. Was he pierced? You could see your slick gleam on his lips and chin where his mask was still askew.

“Yeah,” Ghost smiled haughtily, “you like those piercings, don’tcha baby?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond. Price pulled your head away from Soap’s dick, kissing your mouth lewdly again before giving you an order,

“Open your mouth wide for me, love.”

You obeyed. Then, he spit onto your tongue, warm and bubbling, before shoving your face down onto his own fat rod. It made your lips burn with its cruel girth, even though it felt relatively soft, and you thought fleetingly that there was no way your poor little cunt was going to be able to take him, Ghost was big enough to be filling, but the captain was carrying around a true weapon.

He pulled your head off of him roughly, watching as the strings of drool connected your tongue to his cockhead, growling in short, lustful breaths.

“Alright, boys. Make sure she’s good and ready for me. You know the drill,” Price barked, and then he was gone.

The drill? You looked for him, confused, and only found Gaz, who was now slapping his long dick on your cheek, knocking for entrance. He let you take his head into your mouth, having a much easier time than you did with your captain. You bobbed your head up and down dutifully, not realizing just how long his cock was until he tried to force it into your throat. He held you down for a moment, moaning shamelessly, before releasing you to let you breathe.

“You alright, babes?” He laughed.

You nodded, moaning. Ghost took himself out of your wetness and pulled you off of the table. Soap hopped up to lay where you were, and you moved to ride him, making sure to get right to the edge with him to let Ghost back in. You’d never taken two men at once, much less four, but there was a first time for anything, and you were a quick learner.

Spearing yourself onto Soap felt like someone had created a warm, custom, living dildo just for you. He was a perfect fit, and you both cried out in pleasure from the sensation. Ghost slapped your ass, hard, and you screamed, clenching around Soap’s cock. Soap moaned darkly.

“Keep suckin’ that big cock, baby. Need to teach you how to multitask,” Ghost threatened as he bent to eat your asshole, wiggling his tongue into the tight rim to gain entrance.

He started to fuck you with it, his long wet muscle moving in and out as Soap thrust himself up into you, hitting your g-spot every single time like magic. You took Gaz back into your mouth and tried your best to take him deeper into your throat. Every time you did, you would gag, and your muscles would involuntarily clench, and the whole room would moan. You started to come, feeling yourself flood around Soap, whose mouth had latched onto one of your nipples, suckling like he was trying to feed from you.

You could see Price out of the corner of your eye. He had lit another cigar and was smoking it, stroking himself, still not at his full capacity. You were scared of him. He looked like some sort of demon, breathing fire, and his cock was as big around as your forearm. He wasn’t as long as Gaz, nor as delightfully curved as Soap, but he made your legs shake without even touching you. When he did touch you, rising from his chair when he wanted to fondle you, pinching a nipple, pulling your hair, forcing your head down on Gaz, it lit you up like you were kerosene and he was the match.

Suddenly, Ghost’s tongue was gone, only to be replaced by his heavy head. He was going to fuck your ass, and there was nothing you could say to stop him. You’d only done anal once or twice before, and you knew it might hurt. He went so slowly that you could feel each and every piercing as he popped them into you, one by one. Then, as he pulled back out, you felt them pop as each one went through you again, raking himself in and out gently, as careful with you as he could be. When you were more pliant, he began to throw his weight into each thrust, and Soap started to groan below you from the sensation.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Johnny boy,” Price threatened, his voice full of stern warning.

You weren’t sure what he was warning him about until Soap pulled his cock out of you and came all over your stomach, Ghost’s thrusts making the fluid smear between you two, rubbing your bodies together. Ghost pulled out next, and you felt his hot, thick ropes spray onto your ass cheeks, melting down your thighs.

Gaz abandoned your mouth and took over for Soap, feeding himself inch by inch until he found your end, leaving some of his cock out in the cold. He fucked you faster than the others, not caring to move out of the way as Soap rolled off of the table, whining like a whore the whole time.

Captain Price came around to your face, holding your chin in his hand, looking down at you without pity,

“Garrick’s got a long cock, don’t he, love? You’re being so good for my men, such a good girl. Sweet little slag, hm? You’re going to do so well on this mission. Those areholes won’t know what hit ‘em.”

He grabbed your hair fiercely, hurting your scalp, forcing you to turn and look back at Gaz. Price took a long puff from his cigar, blowing it past your face,

“Baby, he could fuck you for a hundred years. He’s not gonna come until you scream his name.”

You heard Gaz moan louder at Price’s suggestion, so you did. You screamed for him over and over, not caring who might have heard you, begging for him to come in you.

“He’s not allowed to come inside of you yet, love,” Price kissed your open panting mouth, “But, don’t worry. It’s about to be my turn, and you’ll be feeling my fuckin’ come drip out of your cunt all night long.”

Price’s voice made your blood run cold with fear. He wasn’t making threats. Those were clearly promises. Predictions of the future. His cock was tucked back into the band of his pants, but it lay in wait there like a serpent, eager to strike.

Your heart pounded in your chest as Gaz pulled his long shaft all the way out of you, his come shooting onto your lips and ass, feeling him use his hand to rub it into your skin, making you sticky. Your captain gave him a warning look, and you realized they had done this sort of thing before. Perhaps many times before. As you watched Soap and Ghost comfort each other, breathing close together, touching themselves, you wondered if they ever fucked each other as well. Picturing the four of them rutting into each other made you hungry, deep in your belly, starving to witness such an act.

Finally, it was your captain’s turn. The look in his eyes made you tremble. You knew he wouldn’t be cruel, not on purpose anyway. He wasn’t a heartless man, but he wasn’t one to hold himself back from what he wanted either. You knew that he would fuck you the way he wanted to, as hard as he wanted to, no matter how much complaining you might do about how his cock would stretch you out - even to the point of pain.

“On your back, love. Legs up. Spread that pussy open for me,” he commanded.

You did as he told you, opening yourself up shamelessly, letting your folds spread wide.

He walked around the table to gaze upon your form, staring at your pink flesh like it was a hot meal, and he was starving. He moaned, rubbing his hand across your sticky mons,

“Mm, that’s my pretty little Rabbit. Now…” he paused for effect, sinking three fingers into your hole roughly but ever so slowly, twisting his arm as he did, corkscrewing his knuckles into you, “...I want you to understand that there’s a reason I’m last in line, love.”

You cried out from the pressure of his huge hand. It felt like you were going to tear. Then, after a few hard thrusts, he released you. The emptiness you felt was heartbreaking. You looked for him, pleading with your eyes for him to return to you. He pulled his cock free from his waistband, unable to connect his finger to his thumb as he wrapped around it. You whined involuntarily, something animal in you recognizing its fate.

“Shh, baby, I know,” he drug out his voice, “I know…”

He positioned the heavy shaft on top of your body, measuring himself from base to tip, reaching your navel. As he slapped it against you, it made a loud thudding noise, slamming into your muscles like a fist. Price was so heavy. You’d never even imagined a man could feel like he was pure, warm, thick marble. Your pussy seemed to understand the panic you were feeling, flooding itself, preparing for the upcoming invasion.

“I’m so fuckin’ eager for you, love,” he slapped you again, quick taps right to your swollen clit.

Then, he put his head inside of you, squeezing himself in. He left it inside of you and started to pump himself with his hand. Between the vibration from his fist and the fact that it felt like you were sitting on the end of a steel bat, you couldn’t hold back your keening, loud and high-pitched.

Price began the steady, slow march forward, swelling harder and harder by the moment, making your walls feel like they might break. It seemed as if all the blood in your body was rushing down your belly and up your legs, hurrying to your core.

Your eye were wild, full of your fear, tears forming at the corners of your eyes,

“I can’t, please! I can’t. It’s too big, fuck…”

Price didn’t stop. He just kept feeding himself in and pulling himself back out, wetting his cock’s skin with your soaking hole.

“You can, and you will, love,” the captain growled, “Now, shut that pretty mouth and take it.”

Your cheeks were wet and your eyes burned, he was so deep within you that it felt like he was thrusting into your throat. You couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly, Soap grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, using his tongue to lick your skin,

“It’s alright, bonnie. I’m here. Breathe with me, lass.”

He bent down to kiss you, but he didn’t quite connect, letting his lips graze yours featherlight. Soap breathed in and breathed out in steady, measured beats. You felt yourself begin to relax. It had such an immediate effect that you heard Price groan, able to slip himself a bit deeper than he had done.

It was like a chain reaction, the more relaxed you became, breathing with Soap, feeling him suck and lick your nipples softly, the more Price was able to squeeze himself in.

Finally, you felt his hair at the base of his cock, thick and curled, and as he sighed, he settled inside of you, impossibly pressing against your whole body, making a clear outline of himself in your lower belly. He rubbed it, almost fondly, and you felt every inch of him throb against your walls, his head bullying your womb.

You cried out again from the strain. Ghost and Gaz joined Soap. Gaz began to suckle from your breast on your left side, fondling himself as he did so, getting hard again. Ghost was at your head on the end of the table, and he bent to kiss you, upside down, his tongue running all the way down your throat, long and slippery against your own.

He pulled away, petting your cheek as Price began to grind himself into you,

“You alright, Rabbit? You enjoying your captain’s cock, hm?”

“Mm hm,” you whispered, whimpering through your tears.

Ghost smiled, and his straight, white teeth looked menacing as he did, sharp, wolf-like,

“I know you are, babe. You’re doing so well. Look at him. You can see him inside of your cunt.”

He lifted your head by your hair, showing you the grotesque shadow of Price’s heavy rod as it shoved itself into you. You reached your hands down to it, feeling it through your skin. It was so unique. His size wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced, and your body was sending confused signals of passion, your orgasms coming in shattered, broken waves. Feeling incomplete. Too powerful, and yet drawn out like the last note of a symphony.

As you touched him from the outside, Price moaned aloud for the first time. It shocked you. You looked up at him, managing to meet his eyes.

“Fuck,” you moaned, “You feel so good inside of me, Captain.”

“Mm, yeah?” He replied, using his hands to press yours down onto his cock, making you gasp, “You like it, baby? I’m gonna make sure you never want anybody else.”

Price reached down and grabbed you by the throat, scaring away Soap and Gaz. He lifted you up, making his dick fit inside of you that much tighter with the change of angle. Then, he began the true performance. He thrust himself in with fast, punishing strokes, slamming himself into you. You were sure you would bruise, and you felt dizzy, almost like you’d pass out.

Soap was at your side again, holding your hair away from your face,

“Look at you, lassie. Such a good girl for your captain. Takin’ that cock so damn well. Can’t wait to be back inside you, girl.”

He kissed your cheek, palm massaging his dick which was back to full mast, eager again.

“Alright, Johnny,” Price grinned, “Since you asked so nicely.”

Without any strain whatsoever, Price lifted you up by your hips and held you in the air as he fucked you, bringing you around the table so that Soap could position himself at your asshole. Ghost’s earlier efforts had made it ready for him, and you could very acutely feel how much he was throbbing to be inside of you, pulsing as he fit against Price.

“Ungh, fuck, lass,” Soap groaned as he began to thrust into you, pistoning with the captain, “He’s got you so tight for me.”

“Yeah? It feels so good. Mmm…” you whimpered, feeling more full than you’d ever been.

Johnny was holding your breasts as Price lifted you up, brutalizing your pussy. Every thrust felt like an electric pulse, making you cock-drunk and mindlessly pliant.

They worked in tandem for what felt like eons, pistoning in and out with each other. Eventually, after he had felt you come, Soap addressed his captain directly,

“Sir, I’m…please, sir, can I?”

“Can you what, soldier?” Price grunted through gritted teeth, testing his sergeant.

“Can I come, sir? Please, Cap…”

“Yeah, Johnny. C’mon, mate. Let her feel it.”

“F-fuck! Fuck…” Soap groaned, pushing himself flush against your asshole, pumping his come into you.

He caught his breath while he was still in you, kissing the nape of your neck, and then he pulled away slowly. He helped Gaz replace him, holding your ass wide apart so his comrade could position himself inside. And just when you thought your poor pussy would have room to breathe, Gaz’s incredibly long shaft was piercing your hole again.

You felt him sigh, his breath against your neck. He took over holding you up, and Price praised him,

“That’s it, Garrick. She’s all yours. Take it.”

Gaz reacted to his words in a way that made you rethink their entire dynamic. Then, you remembered how he had come when you said his name. He seemed to get harder and harder the more Price praised him, and you wanted to give him that same validation.

“Gaz,” you whispered, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder, “It’s so big, baby. It’s like I can feel you in my throat. Oh, Gaz. Gaz!”

“Mm,” Price put his mouth to your neck, groaning, “That’s it, love. Tell him how much you like that long cock.”

“So much, Gaz. It’s so good,” you added.

Then, Price took his left hand and wrapped it around the back of Gaz’s neck in a moment of surprising intimacy. As Price kissed the front of your throat, Gaz kissed your shoulder and nape. You felt like a peeled fruit being shared between them, a ripped rind, your juicy flesh being split in two; two halves of a ripe orange.

Gaz lasted longer than Soap had when he fucked your ass, but Price’s attention seemed to spur him on. His movements were slippery, and you could feel the remnants of Soap’s come frothing around your entrance, easing his efforts.

“Captain,” Gaz whined, desperate for more of that approval.

“C’mon, Kyle. She’s ready for you. Good lad.”

The use of his first name made Gaz thrust up into you with a feverish pace. He cried out as he came, hard, into you. Feeling him fall back out of you made you imagine the tendrils of a giant kraken, seeming to travel forever just to remove himself from your body, slithering out of you with a terrible squelching noise.

Gaz let Price hold you again, and you turned, expecting Ghost. Price laughed at you, chuckling softly,

“Missing your masked man already?”

You looked at Price, feeling raw and used, waiting for an explanation,

“He’s a little…preoccupied.”

Price laid you back on the table, letting you turn your head to see Ghost, buried in Soap’s asshole up to the hilt, furiously jacking him off, slamming into him a little too roughly for your liking. It was violent, but Soap seemed to be enjoying himself beyond measure.

Your pussy, though, disagreed with your assessment, clenching around Price’s cock while you watched Simon abuse his friend’s hole.

“Mm,” the captain moaned, feeling your muscles react, “You like that, love? You wanna be fucked rough like that?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer. Price wrapped your legs beneath his chest in a full mating press and wrecked you, pounding into your body like a giant fist. You felt your bones shudder beneath his behemoth form. Just when you thought you might puke from how overstimulated you were, you felt him pause. Then, your pussy felt like it was leaking, and it was. Price’s come just kept milking its way out of you, his cock pulsing inside, making your walls throb.

When he finished, he kissed you on the mouth, almost lovingly, reverently. He started to slide out of you, being extremely careful, and you’d never felt so empty in your entire life. It was as if you’d never be full again. You found yourself whining, whimpering for Price to return.

“That’s right, pretty girl,” Price smiled, “Never gonna want anybody else, are ya?”

You smiled, shocked and in considerable discomfort. Gaz scooped you up off of the table, cradling you, sitting down with you in his lap in a large chair. He reached down for some water and handed it to you, helping you recover.

Price was standing with his hands on his hips, panting from his exertion. Ghost and Soap were connected like two hounds, locked together, the Scot cock warming his tall lover, groaning on every exhale.

“Well, what do you think, lads? Do we have a winner?” Price asked.

“Yeah, we fucking do, Cap,” Gaz pet your head, moving your sweaty hair out of your eyes.

“Fuck yeah, mate,” Ghost growled, pawing at Johnny again, rabid for him.

“Hear that, bonnie?” Soap managed to ask, still moaning in little breaths as he was being speared by Ghost, “Got yourself a new permanent assignment.”

Price walked over to you, grabbing you by the face and kissing you once more,

“You belong to us now, love. Perfect little slut.”

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#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #task force 141 #tf 141 #task force 141 x reader #141 x reader #feral friday #afab reader #Female reader #x female reader

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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 1 year

Text

How does it look? Ah, it’s an improvement

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

AN: Ok, so another gap between updates, but for everyone that's still here, I hope you guys enjoy it, your comments and asks give me life 💕

Part 6 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

In the days after your little run in with König at the gym, things had been tense with the guys. So much so that until you could find time for a ‘covert’ date, you’d tried to avoid him like the plague. Of course that meant that he was open to attack from the rest of your team, but you figured, what harm could they really do? Well as it turned out, after finally lifting your self imposed ban, he’d said they’d been on him like bloodhounds.

Apparently there was no limit they would reach to defend your honour, not that it needed defending in the first place (but you couldn’t tell them that). After a mixture of the guys trying to warn him, threaten him, jump out at him, knock his tea off of the counter and throw his food in the bin, they’d made it difficult for König to do much of anything around base. Your mind had buzzed in a near constant state of anxiety, waiting to see what they’d do next.

Luckily for your frayed nerves and König’s safety however, they stopped being as harsh to him as time went on. In only a couple weeks in fact, they’d stopped attempting to jump him and threaten him away from you, and instead took to glaring at him and giving him what you called the ‘school girl treatment’. Sure, bitching about him and saying they couldn’t wait to put Ex Nihilo in the ground once and for all so they could flush out KorTac wasn’t particularly helpful for team morale, but it meant that you didn’t need to worry about your lover getting shanked anymore.

If you were being honest, you couldn’t help but feel he deserved it a little given it had been his bright idea to rile you up in the first place. That’s what you get for trying to show off in front of Ghost. However that didn’t mean you didn’t still worry for him, far from it. You were practically biting your tongue off whenever König would happen across your path.

“Didn’t anyone tell you the love of your life aint in your chain of command Soap?”

“Oh shut the fuck up!”

You snorted as Soap shot you a glare. He’d momentarily distracted himself from pinning Ghost only to end up rolled over and under the heavy frame of the Lieutenant - who he’d only just managed to hold down himself. His body landed on the ground with a thundering crash, and at the very same time he let out a small ‘oof’ you held your hands at your mouth and tried to hold back on the stream of laughter threatening to burst out. Not that that was any use, you were breaking in no time, squealing like a kid. Served him right for getting cocky. He’d been leaning hard into Ghost, his eyes level and lips caught in a ridiculous smirk.

“Looks like the next rounds on you again, Johnny boy!” Ghost chuckled, releasing Soap before he snapped something.

“No! No, no, no, I call bullshit on that,” Soap huffed, jumping to his feet like a jack in the box. “The only reason you won was because that little dick couldn’t keep their mouth shut.”

Your fellow sergeant held an accusing finger up at you, his face going pink in anger. Sore loser. You gasped in mock offence then proceeded to shoot him your best puppy eyes and shrugged, perfecting a show of innocence that would make an angel weep.

“Me?”

“Yes you! Love of your life’s not in your chain of command’,” he echoed, pitching your words up like a little girl. “Fuck off!”

“I don’t sound like that,” you sniggered, watching as his face got redder. “Don’t be a sore loser Soap.”

Soap hit the mat just shy of his thigh, pounding it as if it were a way to wage revenge, working himself up as you and Ghost continued to laugh like hyenas.

Ghost eventually joined your side, he picked up the water bottle he’d abandoned by his workout gear and took a long gulp, huffing as he lowered the bottle back down. Ghost’s breathing was laboured and you could smell the sharp stench of sweat coming off of him in waves, apparently even with your intervention, that hadn’t been an easy victory. You knew that well enough yourself, you were only barely able to beat him sometimes, he’d earned his nickname just as much as you’d merited yours.

“I almost had the bastard this time!” Soap huffed, slumping. “If it hadn’t a’ been for you.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better I’ll pay for it,” you offered, rising to your feet. “Given you both go get a shower, you guys fuckin’ stink.”

Soap smirked at that, his eyes regaining their lost spark as if he’d been given a jumpstart. You didn’t care for it.

“Really? I don’t think I smell too bad,” Soap said, his voice taking on an edge again. “C’mere, let me make you really pay for it!”

“Wait, what are you- ew! No! Get away from me!”

You squealed as Soap made a dash for you and hopped out the way from his grabbing arms, jumping away like a scared cricket. Unfortunately he was blocking the exit, forcing you into the corner of the room, keeping you on the edge of your toes while he held his arms up, torturing you with the threat of a hug. It took everything in you to keep track of where the mats were and not to slip on the shiny wooden floors, squeaking with every step you took as you frantically traversed the hall.

“It’s just like you said Sneaky, can’t fraternise outside my rank. Guess that just leaves you!” He laughed, making another unsuccessful lunge at you.

“I’m sure Gaz…is around here somewhere,” you said, breathing hard as you continued to duck and dive from him.

Despite Mactavish’s best efforts, you still managed to elude him. When he leapt for you, you strafed away and even when he’d successfully grab your arm, you’d break his hold before he could wrap you in his stinking death grip.

You were so close to the exit now. You’d danced your way there, too busy walking backwards and throwing Soap off of your intentions that you were taken unawares when you backed into something solid where an empty doorway should’ve been. It was only when two familiar big hands drew round your frame to steady you, that you realised exactly who you’d bumped into.

“Careful Sergeant,” König said, his voice surely thick with a grin. “I see training in the 141 is as rigorous as ever.”

You sigh, taking a cautious look over at Ghost who has his eyes locked on the offensive figure behind you. Even as Ghost stood there smelling like week old laundry he’d acted as if König had dragged putrid roadkill into the room and asked him to take a bite.

“You wanna test how good our training is, König?” Soap barked, puffing his chest out like a cartoon gorilla.

You rolled your eyes.

“No thank you, I’m afraid I’d get terribly bored.”

“Funny,” Ghost said plainly, tilting his head. “Maybe we could find out how interesting you find us once you let go of Sneak. Could make sure those dirty mitts don’t linger too long again.”

You could feel his fingers dig into your skin, and with just a cursory glance up to the slits in König’s mask, you knew he hadn’t been meaning to clutch onto you for so long. Though, even in your haste to be subtle you didn’t miss the wink he gave you when he let you go, or the way his fingers brushed against you like falling silk. Clearly someone had been missing you. Probably as much as you’d missed him.

“Apologies,” he’d said, not able to resist whispering after, “lucky for him he doesn’t know where these ‘mitts’ were last weekend.”

You choked on your next breath and turned so that your back was to the others before they could see your haunted expression. König was becoming a master of landing you in the shit. Even as you tried to glare at him, your paranoid mind wondered if they could see your body buzzing with worry.

“Why are you here, König?” you asked, voice shaking with a hundred different emotions.

Even under the darkness of his full hood, König’s eyes sparkled with mischief and you didn’t miss the playful raise of his brows. He was continuing to wage war on you, even when you giving him the ‘stop fucking with me’ look. He was going to hear about that later.

“Curiously enough, Price sent me. He wanted me to tell you to come to his office.”

Everyone’s breaths were collectively stolen from the room.

“Price? Price asked you to talk to Sneak for him?” Soap said dubiously, first to ask before anyone else could.

You were too busy wondering if he’d figured something out.

“Funny isn’t it?” König said, his gaze squarely fixed on you. “He was in a rush to sort something and unfortunately for him, I was the only one around. I think you’re being sent off on a mission.”

You didn’t miss the way his voice dropped in disappointment. If you were going away with Price then it was anyone’s guess how long you’d be away for. Last time he’d spirited away with Gaz he’d disappeared for days, and come back afterwards sagging like a melted ice cream. Whatever you’d be doing, it’d likely tire you out just as much and even if you were to come back through the weekend you’d likely be beat just the same. With that in mind, you knew it was unlikely you’d get to carry out your fun weekend plans with König. That meant it’d be a whole week’s wait until you got to meet with him again.

Fuck.

“Oh…thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course. Can’t ignore an order from the Captain.”

The ‘unfortunately’ didn’t have to be said, it hung in the air between you two like black clouds of smoke. It took everything in you to ignore him from then on, turning instead to your things and stuffing them into your pockets. Your ears burned as they traced his footsteps fading from the doorway, and your chest grew heavy knowing you’d be missing him like hell until you could see him again.

“Fancy that, Price going against his own orders,” Ghost said, folding his bulging arms over his chest.

Always looking for a fight.

“Fuck, probably didn’t even ask that cunt. The thing probably ate the guy that was actually supposed to come get Sneak,” Soap sniggered, finally emerging from his huff.

Oh yeah, they’d taken to calling König names now as well. They particularly enjoyed comparing him to a horrific bug monster which, even as childish as that was, was a little entertaining to you given you knew how much he hated that particular film when you’d tried to show it to him. He didn’t care for monster flicks.

“I don’t think he’d lie,” you shrugged, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Really? I think he’d stab his own mother just to get a giggle,” Ghost snorted.

Clearly you don't know him very well. You laughed even in spite of knowing that what your Lieutenant said wasn’t remotely true, maybe even because you knew how ridiculous it was. They had a lot of fun making him out to be a raging sadist when as far as they were aware he’d done no worse than them on the field. König would stab himself before a hair on his mothers head came to harm, he practically gave half his wage just to make sure she ate well every month.

“Maybe. Even so, I better go see what Price wants. Must be deadly urgent if he was desperate enough to send König,” you said, heading back toward the exit.

“True. Sure you don’t want a reassuring hug before you go?” Soap asked, making a move like he’d come bounding up to you.

“Nope! Not even if this is the job I die on,” you called, speed walking down the corridor before he got any bright ideas.

-☠️-

Just as König had said, you ended up pulled away with Price on reconnaissance. Now, while you’d much rather have been curled up in a hotel room with König and living out your lazy weekend plans, it turned out being away wasn’t all that bad. For one thing, Price was practically his old self with you again and for another it was good to get away from the rest of the 141.

Constantly having to listen to them verbally disassemble the man that you were secretly in love with was a lot and it took everything not to sit there and defend him sometimes. Even then that would just result in an uproar about how you let people treat you. At that point you’d take Price’s steady quiet presence and occasional rumbles about coffee and football anyday.

“You seeing anything Sneaky?”

Price’s hushed voice crackled over your comms, the tiny earpiece was flooding with interference from the busy market. Crowds of people swarmed and overflowing stalls that were bursting with goods, with salesmen boasting about their produce and wares like it was the last day on earth to buy anything. The heat beat down on your back and your outfit did little to help with the glaring sun, one of the pitfalls of wearing baggy clothing to conceal weapons. Your scent mingled with the rest of the sweltering bodies that bumped your sides and moved around you, but most of all you scented the rich foods and the old antiques that filled the stalls. Your senses were going wild, overstimulated to the max.

“Not a fuckin’ thing,” you finally muttered.

You’d been sent out to intercept a meeting between two Ex Nihlio members, according to intel gathered from KorTac earlier in the week they were supposed to meet by one of the spice stalls. It was your job to route them out and figure out if they knew anything about Rousseau’s whereabouts. Only issue was that you were drowning in spice stalls. Both you and Price had taken turns dressing up like tourists with your big nikon cameras and neon bags and were playing a game of spot the terrorist cell with only a prayer that you hadn’t already missed them.

Price was taking his turn up on the roof, nestled conveniently in a skillion like a bird of prey about to strike, watching and waiting with his binoculars up and gun at the ready. You felt safe knowing he was with you, his mumbled words of reassurance kept you sane as you traversed the labyrinthian pathways over and over and had to pretend to take an interest in various trinkets.

However, you’d been on the streets for a couple hours now, you knew that soon enough you’d have to swap again and it’d be your turn to play sniper on the roof. That was - If your aching feet were anything to go by. You sighed and took a look around, deciding to do one last sweep around the stalls before you joined Price and relieved him of his position.

“Hold on Sneak, turn around - don’t be obvious,” Price said, voice coming in low and grizzled from disuse.

You froze in your spot and swallowed, committing yourself to your new task, taking a moment to look through your pockets before palming a warm penny. With a fake gasp, you sent it rolling behind you and leaned down, walking a few paces so that you could retrieve the penny off the ground while looking around for the source of Price’s interruption. When you looked up to the row of stalls across from you, you saw what he’d tipped you off on.

“Try to get in close.”

Situated next to an array of autumn coloured spice piles, were two men wearing dark shirts and trousers, talking hushedly to one another. While you couldn’t be absolutely sure that they were Ex Nihlio, you knew that it didn’t look like they were there to shop. You glanced away from them for a moment and set your sights on a curio stall next to them, stepping almost silently over the gritty path until you reached your target.

Their voices were low, coming in softer than a light breeze, but still you managed to catch a little of what they were saying and you knew the receiver would too. You tilted your head toward them, trying to give Price the best chance of hearing them too; all while you picked up a tiny bird figure barely bigger than one of your digits and held it to your eyes. You softly ran your fingers over the wood like you might bring it to life somehow and turned it this way and that, inspecting it carefully - it was important to make your fascination with the object look convincing.

“Your orders are clear, you are not allowed to move forward.”

“But we have everything in place, we’re ready! I don’t understand.”

The men were tense, their voices strained as they endeavoured to stay quiet.

“We have to be more reserved now. Ever since…he was taken and the tourists were found, things have been different. Plan’s changed.”

“What! because his-”

“Quiet! Not another word. This visit in itself was a courtesy only extended to you, we’ve had to stop everything we had planned, things have changed.”

“I don’t accept that. We have to keep the momentum going or we won’t be taken seriously.”

You breathed out quietly, watching as the stall owner started approaching you and you let a smile melt onto your face, trying to keep up the dumb tourist charade. The woman looked keen as she approached, face reminiscent of a fox’s with her eager golden eyes and high cheekbones. Her lips were curved into a grin and she hunched over the counter tactically surveying her eyes over your form. She was probably anticipating someone stupid, someone that could be easily fleeced.

“It’s a nice statue isn’t it? Are you interested in buying?”

“Uh, yeah I think so, it’s really cute,” you said with a short unsure laugh, trying to keep your voice low enough for Price to hear over. “How much is it though?”

Regrettably for her you weren’t going to be the easy mark that she’d assessed you as. Nevertheless, you still hoped to god she wasn’t going to ask for too much. You’d figured before setting out that you needed to buy some stuff so that you could blend in, but you hadn’t brought an awful lot and you’d already gotten some pastries and drink with the paltry change. Plus the little swallow, for all its tiny size, was very detailed, it’s little carved tail and wing feathers and dark wood would surely drive the cost up. Then there was also the fact that there was no way you’d be able to just accept the given price, you’d have to negotiate so that you had a reason for sticking around.

While you desperately strained to try and hear the argument ensuing between the two men next to you, you weakly haggled with the woman giving her numbers that her lips upturned like a direly unamused theatre mask. Eventually though you both reached an agreement and the little figure was yours, but now you had to work out your next move.

“‘We are from nothing, and we will fight each day until they can never reduce our names to the dirt again’- remember when that was our calling? Remember when we committed to a cause that day, does that mean nothing to you? We must act now!”

“It must mean nothing to you, if you are willing to risk everything just for a moment of glory.”

You didn’t have to struggle to blend in much longer.

A loud shot rang out above the swathes of people around you and suddenly the entire market descended into chaos and terror, people ran and screamed and hid; fleeing like pigeons. You looked over to where the two men had been and saw only one now as he rushed away into the crowd while the other lay dead and bloody on the ground. The man’s pupils were tiny pin pricks staring emptily into the glaring sun, all life torn from the deserted vessel of his body. He’d gone back to nothing after all.

“Price, I'm going after him.”

You tore your eyes from the dead man and chased after his killer, trying desperately to catch up as he faded into the crowds. You weaved and ducked, trying to remain discreet even still as you traced his path and took advantage of the wake he left in the crowd. He was like a speedboat tearing through choppy seas, disgruntled people were pushed to the side and made to move as he bulldozed through and gave you plenty of opportunity to follow.

“You need to stop, Sneak. We don’t know if he has friends hiding around the area! Do you hear me? Stop! Sneak, how copy?”

Price was too late. You’d collided with the man already, strategically shoving him into an alleyway and underneath your body. You both breathed hard, groaning as your knees and his back made contact with the hard ground, but neither of you could afford to feel it for long. He fought his way up, reaching for a knife he’d stowed in a thigh pocket and attempted to plunge it into you before you disarmed him, smashing his wrist against the wall and pounding it with your other.

“I got him pinned down, we’re in the alley a few streets up, he’s fighting back pretty hard,” you growled, thoroughly out of breath from trying to subdue the squirming screaming man.

“That’s not what I ordered!”

“Well what are my orders now?” you asked, gritting your teeth as you punched the man, narrowly missing being hit first.

Price didn’t speak for a beat, the silence was tense as you fought to subdue your target, filled with your gasping breaths and struggling bodies scraping against the grit like sandpaper. You could practically feel the steam that was pouring from Price’s ears coming in through the earpiece, sweat was pooling all over your body, exertion and heat were kicking in. After a moment, your captain finally responded through gritted teeth, his voice crackling all the more as you realised that he was on the move.

“Coming to you now. Hold him there.”

Easier said than done. You felt like a bull rider as you bucked around on top of the stranger trying to subdue his movements with as little force as possible. While it was important to make sure he was kept down and kept quiet, you couldn’t do too much damage or it was worthless even stopping him in the first place. Clearly this man was in contact with Rousseau or at least someone very close to him, so it was of the utmost importance that you brought him in lucid and ready to spill. Or rather spill after some convincing, the look in his eye was that of a man that wouldn’t give you any satisfaction for nothing.

His teeth were bared at you like an animal, one of them metallic and glinting in the sliver of light that emerged through the darkness. His eyes were wild like a feral lion. There was something about his face that terrified you in that moment, the sheer determination to kill you, the will of a man with conviction in his cause to tear you down. You had the upper hand though, finally you’d been able to reach the pistol you’d secreted away at your side and pulled it on him, holding it against him with a soundless ultimatum.

“Get the fuck off me! I’ll have your eyes for this, fucking scum!”

The man ranted and screamed, but even still you weren’t deterred from your task. You kept him pinned down with the gun snug at his temple, praying that Price would be there soon. Luck wasn’t on your side that day though, rarely ever was, suddenly you were sailing onto your back. Stars filled your vision, light melting as the sky faded far away. It was somewhat reminiscent of what you’d seen happen days before, Ghost on top of Soap after his failed victory, Soap stuck to the ground like a monkey under a tigers paw.

“Are you alright?” a voice asked.

Someone that you didn’t recognise, an accent you couldn’t place.

“I’ll be fine! Finish them off and let’s go,” your target responded.

You winced, expecting that to be your final moment, the last thing you ever heard was a dismissal of your efforts. Through the murky darkness two eyes flashed through your head, two crystalline pools that opened like planets in the empty space of your mind. In your mind, König looked back on you smiling, his watchful gaze always reminding you of an angel while he loomed over you, bare chested and warm just like he’d been at the hotel.

Had that been your last though you would’ve died happy, you decided.

Though you weren’t going to die that day, not yet. Another gunshot blasted through the atmosphere, ricocheting in your ears, but as you were still around to hear it and you weren't lying there in blinding pain - well not any more than you’d felt before the gun fired - you deduced the man had missed. Instead another man’s scream rang out and a flurry of footprints followed, scraping to get away.

You opened your eyes, finally able to see again, but felt blinding pain replace your stolen vision. It coursed through your skull and rattled through your back, making you hiss as you sat up and stradied yourself on your scraped up hands. Colours and shapes swelled and swirled before your eyes before condensing and becoming clear. Price took form in front of you seconds later, his hands tight on your shoulders as he grabbed you and gave you a look over, running his hand gently over your head as if you were his child.

“What the fuck did I tell you?” he muttered, eyes narrowing harshly as he realised you were ok. “You had no idea who else was there and wouldn’t you know it - who should show up, but one of his little friends”

“I…I already had him before you said to let him go,” you groaned, blinking furiously as you tried not to let the darkness at the edge of your vision take over.

“Is that right? Well, well done to you and your fucking initiative,” he groaned, “Look at you, you look like you’re going to fall apart. Are you ok, can you see?”

“Feels like it too,” you said, smiling weakly. “I can see, things just got hazy for a second there…Did you send the rest of the team after them?”

Price rolled his eyes, the bags under them looking pinched as he kept looking you over. Another group of soldiers had been kept on standby, ready to swoop in and drive you and whoever you might capture, but it didn’t look like Price was thinking of them then. He was focused on you, kneeling across from you and surveying for any changes. He let go of your shoulders, instead propping you up against an old crate that sat abandoned in the alley.

“Course I sent them,” he said eventually. “Don’t think they’ll catch up though.”

“Fuck,” you hissed, feeling the full weight of the blow to your head.

“How bad’s the wound?” you asked, wincing as your fingers came away from it with blood.

“Not bad. Not good either though,” Price deadpanned. “I’ll walk you out of here in a minute. I just want to make sure you’re going to stay awake.”

“Walk? You mean we can’t call an Uber?”

Price didn’t see the funny side of your joke, he shook his head and ran a hand through his beard, taking extra time to scratch as he reached the thicker sides. He was deep in thought, trying to process what had happened, and work out where to go from there. There was a look in his eyes he always got when he was catastrophizing, and you could tell he was in full crisis mode. His steady hands and stiff posture only served to throw off people that didn’t know him well enough.

“What is it?”

“Two of em’ have seen your face now.”

You had already thought of that.

“I know,” you said quietly, finally looking away from him.

Neither of you said anything else for a second. You focused in on the crowd behind you instead, the people that still rushed through the streets trying to avoid a silent threat that had already run far from their paths. Their voices and scampering feet echoed and danced through the alleyway, distracting you from your pain for a moment. Thought still coursed through you in the background, remained swirling through your body like a snake constricting around your brain and back.

“We need to get you out of here and get you to a medic.”

You nodded, you wouldn’t fight him on that. A medic would have pain killers. You tried to rise on your own, gripping the rough wooden crate like a lifeline, but found yourself almost collapsing again until Price rushed to your side and held you up, grunting as he bore your weight. Through the vignette of your fading vision you could see the tight lipped grimace he was giving you and knew you were probably sporting a similar look of your own.

“Don’t try to move on your own, let me help you,” Price growled.

“You gonna carry me all the way back to car?” you asked sceptically, remembering how far you had to go.

“Can’t bloody well leave you. We don’t know if that bastard’s got more friends hanging around.”

“You could stick me in another alley and bring the car closer?” you asked, already knowing what his answer would be,

“Not a chance. C’mon, get moving those feet. That’s an order!”

Stubborn.

You grit your teeth and felt the pain shoot through your back and curl up in your stomach as you moved. You knew you hadn’t broken anything, but you were still feeling the effects of getting winded and the weeping head wound wasn’t helping matters either. Bile rose in your throat at the thought and even as Price kept his arm slung tightly round you, you felt your feet waver and drag across the ground, felt your mind struggling to keep going as your body began to give up.

“Talk to me. Don’t give out on me now,” Price demanded, his breaths coming out punchy like wind hitting a sail.

“Talk about what?” you laughed, wincing with the movement.

“Anything. Keep yourself focused, talk about anything.”

“Ok,” you conceded, thinking for a moment as you were dragged through an empty street. “Why’d you send König to come get me the other day?”

“Really? That’s all you could think of?” Price scoffed.

You were in too much pain to feel any shame or hesitation about pushing. In fact, it was the perfect time to bring up König because there weren’t going to be many other chances for you to leverage a head wound to discuss the subject. It was the perfect thing to direct your energy on and keep you upright.

“You’re the one that told me I wasn’t to speak to him again,” you said measuredly. “It made me wonder why you’d send him to speak to me.”

“He was the only one around and the General wanted us gone ASAP.”

“You could’ve messaged.”

“I needed to make sure you knew to come right away.”

“Are you saying I’m not reliable?” you grinned, almost tripping on a fallen basket because you were so pleased with yourself.

You and Price stopped just before your feet could stumble over the fallen produce and rerouted around it, huffing with exertion. Price’s back was sweating just as much as yours and once again you found yourself cursing at the sun, vowing that you would never spend another minute more in the heat if it meant you could be sent to a cold room with a full deck of meds ready at your disposal.

“If you really want to know, I figured I could trust you now,” Price said, readjusting his grip on you. “After all that's happened.”

“Oh really?”

“Well you wouldn’t want to go near him now after what happened would you?”

You had to hold back a bout of laughter, disguising it easily with a cough. If only he knew.

“Suppose not,” you answered.

“It’s better that way…associating with a man like that, you’d only end up at the top of someone’s shit list.”

“You think he’s got enemies?”

“Why else do men like Ghost and König wear masks?” he huffed. “You’d be vulnerable with him, even if he is a one man army. He couldn't protect you if the people he’d pissed off came after you.”

You pursed your lips and looked toward the end of the street, sighing as you remembered the car wasn’t that far away. The last thing you needed when you were trying not to go wobbly was Price making you doubt König. Instead you faced forward and kept on marching, narrowing your eyes as you fought off the darkness.

-☠️-

“Are you absolutely sure that you like wearing that shirt?”

You laughed as König hovered above you, pausing in his assault on your neck so that he could play with the hem at your neckline. His hemline rather.

“You said you wanted to look after me this week, didn’t you?”

“Well yeah, but not at the expense of my only clothing,” he said, smiling at you with narrowed eyes.

You rolled your eyes at him and kissed him, planting your lips firmly on his so as to silence his protests. All was right in the world again. You’d been dismissed for a week because of your head wound, something about you having suffered from a concussion before so you were being forced to take leave and had decided to spend your time wisely. In other words, telling Price you were going to visit family, when in actuality you were shacked up in an airbnb close to the base so that König could come visit you and stay the night.

Eventually he broke away from you and shook his head, rolling off the bed and causing an earthquake, causing the springs to groan and for the mattress to shake like jelly beneath you. You watched him as he stood and stretched. His body illuminated by the streetlamps outside the windows, the dull yellow contrasting harshly with the dark blue shadows that snaked over his taut muscles, meeting like intertwined fingers at his ribs.

“Is it because it's the Rammstein one?” you asked, sitting up to admire him easier. “Because I’m taking good care of it.”

He shook his head again and made his way to the door.

“I know you’re taking good care of it. I just don’t have a lot of shirts to wear,” he explained, disappearing for a moment.

You huffed and folded your arms, obscuring the blocky logo in the tangle of your intertwined limbs. The guilt trip wasn’t going to work, this was your shirt. You felt like you’d earned it after you’d forgotten home comforts and stayed in a stranger’s house all to be with him. Not that he wasn’t taking fantastic care of you.

You watched as he came back in with a couple glasses of water and set them down on each of your respective bedside tables and disappeared again so he could grab two bowls, walking in with steam obscuring his face. You unfolded your arms, forgetting all about your upset and took in what he’d brought you. He’d heated some soup for you both and ensured that you were propped up nicely before placing yours in your lap, joining you at your side so that he could eat his. The smell of parmesan and vegetables drifted into the air, forcing your stomach to growl in anticipation.

“Thank you, König,” you hummed.

The soup was delicious. It was unmistakably from the Italian deli that König knew you liked to frequent as a treat and you’d deduced he must’ve been earlier in the day to pick up a takeaway just for you. Even if he were being a stickler about his clothes, he still remained sweet and ensured you had every little comfort you could want for while you recovered.

Truth was, you hadn’t really felt that bad once you’d been patched up and given a few Codeine. The pain in your head had dulled to a low thud and more than anything it was background noise to the host of other complaints you could make about your battle torn body. Though König wouldn’t hear of it. He demanded that you stay in bed as he fussed around you and cuddled you like a sickly kitten. It was a wonder you were allowed to even roam the apartment by yourself with the way he coddled you, a miracle you weren’t wrapped in cotton wool and shrunk into his pocket for safe keeping.

“Why is it that you’d want to wear one of my dirty shirts anyway?” König asked, breaking the silence.

You snorted, only just swallowing the spoonful of soup you’d taken and shrugged, a coy smile weaving its way onto your face.

“It smells like you. Makes me feel safe,” you said finally, only a smidge embarrassed.

“And what do I smell like?”

“I dunno…just like you,” you shrugged. “Manly I guess, and I can smell that stupid cheap citrusy soap you use.”

“Don’t belittle my soap just because you like to buy the best,” he retorted.

“That’s right, practicality over frivolity…How German,” you said with a sly smile.

He froze mid spoonful, just about to eat another before he paused and shot you a withering side eye. You’d delighted in finding out another way to tease him, getting to play with him all you wanted while you recovered.

“You call me German one more time, I’m taking the shirt off your back and leaving you naked to fend for yourself,” he said simply

“Oh c’mon, you’d never do that.”

“I just might,” he smiled, taking his last spoonful and letting the cutlery clatter to the empty bowl. “You know the difference.”

“In fairness you did live there for quite a while until you moved back again.”

“Yeah, and that's an even better reason for me to enjoy being Austrian.”

“Such a mean man, poor Germany!”

You playfully shoved at his thigh with your foot and giggled when he caught it in his hand and threw it back. It sent you both laughing and soon you abandoned your soup bowl onto the table and took your little game to the next level, diving onto him before you were promptly flipped onto your back and pinned under König, resuming your usual position.

“Poor Sneak,” he laughed ominously. “Still hellbent on defending the Germans?”

“If I say yes are you gonna do that thing I hate?”

“Only one way to know for sure.”

You huffed out a breath and weighed up your options, deciding if it was really worth being tickled just to keep teasing him. In the end, you didn’t get to decide, you winced as you felt a firework of pain burst through your head and closed your eyes for a second, bunching them shut like you could forget about it behind the darkness of your closed lids. Suddenly you were grateful you were lying down surrounded by the soft topaz sheets.

“Are you ok? Did I hurt you?” König gasped, stroking his thumb over your cheek.

“I’m alright, it wasn’t anything you did,” you assured after a second, taking in a deep breath. “I think it’s time for me to take my meds actually. Is it after eight thirty?”

König leaned up from you and rooted around for his phone. You prayed you were right.

“Yeah, Eight forty. If you sit up, I’ll get them out for you.”

You followed through with his request, inching up the covers and seething with every little jarring shake the bed gave you. It felt like your head was going to burst into a confetti cloud with the amount of pressure that was building. You couldn’t wait till the headaches were done with.

“Here, take these,” König murmured, handing you the pills and your forgotten glass of water.

You threw them back and drank down a big gulp of water, focusing on not choking as you swallowed them as fast as you could. This was one of the worst pains you’d had with it since it’d happened. Stars twinkled at the edge of your vision until slowly, after a little breathing and König stroking your back, you were able to open your eyes and stare back him as he watched you those big doleful eyes of his.

“I’m alright now, it’s ok,” you smiled, trying to reassure him.

“Mm, it’s far from ok,” König hissed, staring harshly to his side for a moment. “If I ever get my hands on those who did this to you, they’ll be sorry.”

You widened your eyes a moment as his fury sunk in and both of you stared at each other for a tense minute. You sat hoping your understanding of the situation might be infectious, wishing he’d accept that they’d just gotten the upper hand. What happened wasn’t personal. He shook his head and let the heat escape him, the fire left his eyes and deflated him, leaving him staring down at the bed a moment until you spoke again.

“I know how I’d feel if it were the other way around,” you sighed, knowing he’d need a little reassurance you weren’t going to run terrified. “But you don’t need to be angry for me. I’m fine, this’ll all be better in a few days, ok?”

He didn’t speak for a second, not until he looked back up at you.

“Ok.”

“Good. Now, c’mere and give me a hug so I feel better.”

His smile returned, curving back onto his lips like magic. You smiled in turn and watched as he put your meds back in the drawer by your bedside, but frowned when he paused and stared inside. He chucked the foil packet back in its place but reached in and retrieved whatever had caught his attention, bringing it front of you in the palm of his hand.

“What’s this?” he asked curiously.

You tilted your head and smiled as you realised it was the wooden swallow you’d unpacked from your bag earlier and shrugged.

“It was the bird I got from the market that day,” you explained. “I found it when I was going through my bag today and chucked it in the drawer.”

He raised his brows and brought the little figure closer to his face, admiring the fine details of it not dissimilarly to the way you’d stared at it in the market. You tilted your head as you watched him and bit your lip, watching the way his eyes took in the little bird with an intense fascination.

“Why don’t you keep it?” you offered. “And then you let me wear this for the rest of the week.”

You rolled your shoulders, showing that you wanted to keep the shirt. König chuckled, but after pretending to be deep in thought about it, sporting a deep frown and a pursed lip, he eventually nodded.

“I suppose I could allow that… we can have shared custody. I get the bird one week and then the shirt for the next,” he said, coming to rest by your side with his arm outstretched, making the bird fly in looping patterns in the air. “Deal?”

You laughed to yourself, but nodded, settling into his warm chest with a satisfied sigh.

“Sounds like a good deal to me.”

Next Part Here

#König #König x reader #konig x reader #konig #könig fanfiction #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare fanfiction #mw2 #a rocky start

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stxrvel · 1 year

Text

the outbreak pt. 2

summary: you've kinda been into therapy and turns out it worked?

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4k

warnings: nothing really, i think. this is actually kinda fluffly. i was in a good mood.

note: i didn't planned on publishing the second part so soon, but i had a lot of free time and a mind running wild. still didn't liked that much how this chapter turned out tho. hoping i could make another part to see what happened to my girl wanda! see you guys in the next fic, love yall. the feedback is always appreciated! thank u for reading.

(if a part 3 never appears, just know this is an open ending)

part 1, extra: 1.5

“So, how've you been doing these past few weeks?”

“You don't have to make small talk to me, Natasha. I enjoy the silence.”

“I ask genuinely. I barely even see you in the halls of the Complex. We only really talk on missions and we've had three since that happened.”

“Don't worry about me.”

“I just want to know how you're doing.”

You turned your head to look at the woman sitting next to you. The uncomfortable leather chair you two were in did nothing to appease the constant headache you'd been having these past few days. Natasha watched you with an arched eyebrow and her hands in her lap. You knew she was right, everyone was always right when it came to you. Apparently Bucky was right when he said everyone knew but you, and that spectrum extended to everyone always seemed to know how you were doing if only by the movement of your eyelids.

That's why you had begun to avoid people.

You spent more time in your room and in the Complex gym, doing research assignments for Fury that involved leaving the building, the three missions with Natasha (fully mandatory and against your will) and sometimes in the lab with Bruce when he needed someone to hold his canisters full of chemical liquids.

Fury and Bruce were the only people you tolerated lately. No funny looks, no awkward questions, no innuendo; just what they needed and goodbye.

But, that time, you did have to go out with Natasha. You weren't given the option to come on your own and it was understandable. A little bit. Even though you were trying to make amends for what you had done, not only on the mission a few months ago but also for what you had done to yourself for years, you didn't know that recovery meant you had to have a watcher on you at all times.

And what's worse, that watchman came with a bird.

“I'm fine, Nat,” you replied to her liking finally.

A short laugh from across the room caught your attention.

“Tell that to the tantrum you threw Fury so we wouldn't come with you.”

You gave Clint Barton a hard look, almost lying on the other longer couch as if he were admiring the earth from a cloud. He had one arm over his eyes which he had raised slightly to give you a mocking look, and one leg bent so that his foot was on the couch.

“I didn't throw a tantrum.”

“Fury, please, I know how to take care of myself. I don't need two bodyguards behind me all day. I'm fully capable of getting there and back on my own.”

Clint's poor imitation of your voice caused you an undercurrent of irritation, but you easily made the decision not to let it come out against him. It turns out that sometimes you could just shut up instead of exploding against others, crazy, right?

“First, I don't talk like that.”

“That's right. Lousy imitation, Clint,” Natasha had your back.

“Second, I only asked him once to let me come alone. I didn't beg him like a fool.”

“Sam told me otherwise,” Clint countered and you frowned. You felt the smile on his mouth.

“Sam's an idiot.”

“Sam's on Bucky's side,” Natasha mused.

And then, an awkward silence.

That was something you hated and still couldn't get used to. When people would say Bucky's name around you, the atmosphere would get strangely tense and suddenly everyone would go silent. It felt strange at first, but when Wanda did it you understood what was going on.

“Stop doing that,” you grumbled with a grimace. “I'm not fucking marble. I'm not going to crack from hearing his name.”

“We didn't say anything,” Natasha spoke again, her innocent little dove expression getting on your nerves.

Count to ten, Y/N, don't forget…

“You guys always go silent after you say his name like he's going to spontaneously explode. We're adults, you know? There are things to get over.”

“Wow,” you heard Clint mutter.

“Shut up, bird.”

Clint made a negative, game-like sound when you gave an incorrect answer.

“Three points off. Natasha and Clint are in the lead,” the man snorted as he rose from his position on the couch. You couldn't do more than give him another look, waiting for him to evaporate into thin air.

Natasha stirred next to you looking around at her surroundings, the dark colors of the room almost absorbing all the natural light coming through the few windows that were in the building.

“You haven't talked to him yet?”

“No.”

“Do you plan to?”

“I don't know. Maybe not.”

“Why?” Clint inquired, suddenly more interested in the subject.

“Because I don't feel like I give a s-”

Clint made the sound again.

“Two points off.”

“Clint,” Natasha reproached him with her tone of voice and the aforementioned only flashed her a smile. “It's been several weeks since you were last together. And you've had a lot of improvement-”

“That's debatable.”

“… don't you feel ready to talk to him?” Natasha questioned, completely ignoring Clint's intrusion into the conversation, again.

“I really don't know,” you admitted. “She told me I'm on the right track too, but just the thought of seeing him again after all those things he said… that I said…”

You sighed. Your gaze focused on the dark floor, a bluish-green hidden behind a black carpet with red, the most horrible carpet you had ever seen in your life.

“It scares me. I don't think I can do it.”

The woman let out an affirmative sound from her throat and the room became silent once again.

You almost let your mind begin to wander into memories, conjuring up the times when you felt like you were on top of the world when you were really about to hit rock bottom. But you quickly focused on where you were and what you were going to do there.

You were going to pick up Wanda. You had wanted to do it alone because it had been several weeks since you had last seen her. The last thing you told her was that you were going on another mission with Bucky and that you hoped it wouldn't end as badly as the argument you had that half the building heard. After that, she left.

She had made the decision to come and talk to Stephen Strange and had told you a few days before you left on what would be your last (official) field mission. She left the Complex the day after you left and all you had heard from her since then was that she was fine, that Strange hadn't locked her in a dungeon and that she was learning many things about her magic, especially how to control it to have power in things like her dreams. You still didn't know what those lucid dreams she had been having for a while had been due to, but judging from the letter you had received yesterday where she asked you to go to the Sanctum Sanctorum, it looked like she had gotten some kind of response.

When you told Fury what you were going to do, he didn't hesitate for a second to say that he would ask the Wonder Duo to accompany you. Clearly you balked, not as many times as Sam and Clint implied, but you didn't expose any more complaints to the Director's authoritative voice.

So, there you three were. Waiting for the wizards to appear from somewhere as you waited in one of the most horribly decorated rooms you'd ever seen.

“Sorry for the delay.”

The new male voice that echoed in the room startled you. You cringed and turned your head every which way until you came upon Strange's figure standing at the entrance to the room, not far from where you three were standing. Natasha and Clint remained unperturbed and you suppressed your desire to complain about the intrusion. You were the only one who hadn't heard him coming, apparently.

“Y/N!” you heard Wanda's voice.

You shot up from the uncomfortable couch the moment you saw her emerge from behind Strange's body. Quickly, you met halfway and melted into a big hug. You shifted from side to side trying to keep your strength and tears held back because of how much you had missed her.

“You look great!” was what she said to you the moment you parted.

“Don't lie to her, Wanda,” Clint exclaimed, and shortly you heard Natasha hiss in his direction.

“I've had better days.”

“I can't believe the day is here already! You have to tell me everything. What happened on the mission? What happened with Bucky?”

Again, the unpleasant silence.

“Why are you two making those faces?”

Wanda was watching the Wonder Duo right behind you and you couldn't help but let out a big exhale.

You turned to look at the only person who really gave a damn about your life.

“Thanks for everything, Strange.”

The man nodded in your direction. “It was my pleasure. Hopefully everything will be better from now on.”

Wanda waved goodbye to him as you turned around and pointed the other two people in the room toward the exit.

The other goodbyes were short and you were soon finding yourselves exiting through one of the portals opened by Strange, where you met the entrance to the Complex head on.

“Ah, magic. It makes life so much simpler,” Clint commented before starting to walk in the direction of the common room.

Natasha had the decency to bid you farewell and followed the bird's path at a tight pace.

“I thought they were going to join us,” Wanda mused, watching their figures walk away.

“No, they were just my nannies.”

“Nannies?” you saw her frown.

You watched the grimace on her face and almost have the urge to ask Sam to come give her a rundown of what had happened in the last few weeks since that last mission, but you mentally pulled back and offered a small smile to the confused woman in front of you.

“We have a lot to talk about.”

---

“Have you eaten today?”

The haze that clouded your mind slowly disappeared, your head barely registering the movements your body made to stay conscious. The soles of your shoes were too hard for your liking and you'd had to go sit down while you waited for Wanda to return. You didn't know how long it had been since that, but it seemed to be long enough for Steve Rogers to approach the cafeteria table where you were sitting with a tray containing the day's food.

“You look like you could use some of this.”

The blond gently pushed the tray until it was on your side of the table, and the smell of beef stew didn't take long to reach your lungs. It smelled good, to be honest. You looked down at the food and moved your hands to grab the silverware.

“Thank you.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm just waiting for Wanda. She went to talk to Fury.”

“I saw her coming in. She said she had a lot of things to tell.”

“She told me exactly the same thing.”

��And did you get to talk about anything before she left?”

You glanced at the fork in your left hand before looking up and meeting Steve's unconcerned face. You had learned very quickly that it wasn't too hard to get to know the captain in your position as opposed to how unreachable he looked to the rest of the population. He was a rough and tough man, but he would do things like bring lunch to a female shipmate who had a blank stare and sit down and try to chat with her.

He was good. Steve was good.

But he wasn't sneaky.

“If you want to know the verdict, talk to Strange. He's a close friend of Tony's.”

The man only sighed, his shoulders slumping in time with his breathing as if he'd been in alert mode all day.

“I didn't mean to sound so…. opportunistic.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You didn't sound opportunistic, Steve, you're just bad at trying to hide your curiosity,” you expressed with a small smile, but the man didn't look convinced by your words. “She's fine. She looks fine. She sounds fine. Whatever they had done, talked about or practiced, it surely paid off. I don't think you have anything to worry about.”

“She looked really scared before she left. You didn't see her. She asked me several times to communicate with you because she didn't know if it was a good idea to do that anymore.”

“She asked you that?”

“Yes. But the mission was very delicate, we couldn't risk it.”

You nodded in your direction, your gaze wandering back over the food.

“I just want her to be okay,” Steve mumbled and you almost missed the way his face contracted. His blue eyes found yours. “She's been through too much throughout her life and now this. It's like a joke of the universe.”

“She'll be fine. She has us. If she needs strength, she'll have plenty.”

Steve smiled, and then you took your first bite of beef stew.

You grimaced.

The blond frowned.

“Was the smell better than the taste, again?”

You nodded with your mouth full. Your hands went to the glass of water in the corner of the tray and you didn't hesitate to down the meat with all the liquid in it. You were almost never lucky enough to taste good lunches in that cafeteria.

“FRIDAY,” you heard Steve say.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Can you order a 12-inch tuna Subway on whole wheat bread with all the vegetables except the bell peppers and olives, please.”

“Right away, Captain.”

“That wasn't necessary,” you turned to the man as his gaze focused on yours.

“You can't go without eating.”

“I would have been able to place the order.”

“Mmm, really?”

“Of course! Do you think I waste the opportunity to spend Tony's money every chance I get? Even, I would have ordered more.”

“Oh, seriously?” Steve had a mischievous grin on his face and you furrowed your brow at his strange expression. “FRIDAY, make it three.”

You half-opened your lips.

“Sure thing, Captain.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“What's with the attitude? It's Tony's money, isn't it?”

You hadn't heard that kind of boldness from Steve very often, and when it happened it was a complete event to witness. The man was a stickler, everyone knew him that way. He didn't understand the word rest and most of his free moments were only used to keep reconsidering attack strategies. Steve wasn't one to let loose and go with the flow very often, but when he did it was something to be enjoyed.

“You know he doesn't mind, right?”

And the moment was over.

“No? I thought he still hated me from lying to him about the book.”

“Uhm…” Steve fumbled over his words and you were amused at the way his features scrunched up. “He doesn't hate you. He was just angry. Besides, it's been a long time, he probably doesn't even remember that.”

“I think he's going to remember that until he dies.”

“Steve.”

You froze in place.

Abort mission. Abort mission. 911. Mayday, mayday, mayday.

Steve looked over your shoulder and then back up at you, your eyes on the embroidery of his brown jacket. You tried to keep your expression composed and sent him a smile of assurance that even you couldn't believe. But you couldn't do anything else. You couldn't break down at that moment. Besides, he would most likely ask the blonde to come with him and Steve would go. You wouldn't really have to deal with anything.

“He's really coming,” you heard Steve mutter in your direction.

Your face scrunched up in confusion, and you watched his expression of poorly disguised panic. You had told Steve only once, days ago, that you weren't ready to talk to Bucky at all. And, apparently, he had made it his problem too.

“Are you busy?”

You heard Bucky so close that a shiver ran through your body. It had been weeks since you'd last heard his voice. On that mission.

“No, I was just talking to-”

“Captain.”

But what was this, the all-call-Steve-at-once festival?

You sank back in your seat when you recognized the Director's voice. If he was there, it meant Wanda must be coming with him, and judging by the contractions in Steve's face, going from confused to incredulous to dumbfounded to flushed, your friend was most likely waving him out of there.

“A word, please,” Fury spoke again, and Steve barely let a second pass before he sprung out of his chair like a spring. He gave you a look and you could almost see the apology written in his eyes.

“Buck, I'm sorry- I mean, wait here for me.”

“What?”

“I won't be late, I promise.”

“I can wait for you in the living room…”

“No,” Steve contradicted him sharply. You caught a glimpse of his stiff expression out of the corner of your eye. “Wait for me here, can you?”

You didn't hear an answer, but you guessed it was positive when you saw Steve's face a little more relaxed. He looked back at you and barely gave you a nod before he started walking toward the exit. You turned in your seat to see him, and barely caught a glimpse of Wanda's triumphant face before she hid behind the back of a naive Fury as she saw your gaze on hers.

That woman really had no idea…

The chair Steve was occupying shifted and Bucky appeared in your field of vision. He was looking anywhere in the cafeteria before he was looking at you. And well, that was good, it gave you time to analyze what you had missed in those weeks without any communication.

He clearly looked calmer. Even though you two were forcibly put in an uncomfortable situation, he didn't seem to mind too much. He looked a little tense, you could barely make out a twitch in his jaw, but other than that he was pretty relaxed.

You didn't know how to interpret that.

The last time you had thought about seeing Bucky again (which was that very morning when Natasha brought it up) you thought that one of you would run away without even a second's notice. It seemed that the only one too scared about that reunion was you. Surely Bucky hadn't thought about it for a single moment since the last time you were face to face.

And his hair. He had cut his hair much shorter than last time. Its ends were directed to the ceiling and you could no longer mess it up if you ran your hands through it. It would rearrange itself in seconds. His eyes were still the same, clear and bright as the clear sky, his expression just as stoic and unperturbed, his body leaning slightly to one side with his hands clasped in his lap. Almost everything about him remained the same except for his hair.

And except he couldn't look you in the eye.

You looked down where the tray with the stew was still intact. You didn't have anything else to distract you with so you grabbed a vegetable and popped it in your mouth.

Turning your head away, you missed Bucky's gaze on your face analyzing the grimace of disgust you were trying to hide.

You swallowed hard and grabbed the water bottle so that it almost slipped through your hands. It was empty.

You almost threw up on yourself.

“Are you okay?”

You met his gaze and froze. His wary eyes were on your face.

“Yeah.”

“Doesn't look like that food is good.”

“Because it isn't.”

You shook your head and pushed the tray away from your personal space once and for all.

“Why don't you order something else?”

“Steve already ordered me something.”

“Oh.”

And silence.

You usually enjoyed the quiet moments, when no sound flooded the surroundings other than your own breathing and the ramblings in your head. You could really enjoy your solitude and the quiet it brought with it. But this silence didn't come with solitude, it came with tension, strain, uncertainty.

You didn't know if you felt you should say something or if you felt you should run away. If you stayed you didn't know what to say to him and if you left you didn't know under what excuse.

Bucky's light eyes met yours again after wandering his gaze for a while around the room.

“Wanda's back,” was what he said.

You nodded.

“We came with her this morning.”

“Yes, Steve told me.”

“We don't have to do this, you know.”

His neutral expression turned chaotic for a moment. Then he went back to being unflappable as if nothing.

“We don't have to do what?”

“This. Talk like it's nothing. It's awkward.”

“Ah. You find it awkward?”

You furrowed your brow at his genuine curiosity. For a moment you thought he was being sarcastic, but his eyes detailed your expression intently, waiting for an answer.

“Don't you?”

“Why should I?”

“Can you stop answering with questions, please.”

Bucky averted his gaze. He repeatedly ran his hands over his jeans.

“I'm sorry. If it makes you uncomfortable I'll keep quiet.”

“Still, you don't answer my question.”

“It's not awkward for me,” he finally said, his slightly tilted head pointed in your direction. “It's just normal small talk. Between two people.”

You hummed a nod and your head moved in sync.

“It's easier for you to pretend nothing happened.”

Bucky shook his head, attentive. He narrowed his eyes and it didn't go unnoticed the way you tensed your shoulders as the words left your mouth.

“I never said that.”

“It's just what I can glimpse.”

“What you think you see is not true. I'm not trying to feign insanity.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot you're an expert at knowing what I think,” the words left you before you could process them and give them the proper filter, and you were sure Bucky had noticed the way your composure wavered for barely a second. If he had, he chose to ignore it.

You saw him twist his lips and lower his gaze, as if he suddenly felt distressed even though he wasn't the one who should be worried about something like that.

“You're angry.”

“And why would I be, according to you?”

“Maybe you were expecting a different reaction from me. You don't like what I'm giving you.”

You let out a laugh. “I never thought arrogant was your type.”

Bucky took in your gesture and mimicked it. Seeing a smile on his face after so long brought back images you thought you had sent far out into the ocean of your mind. Maybe you didn't feel your heart racing as it had so many times before, but you definitely felt something different from the fear and dismay that normally accompanied his memory. Even though you didn't want to accept it, you couldn't help but stretch a little towards that new sensation.

“I was joking. I have no idea why you're mad.”

The small smile on your face disappeared, and you allowed your head to wander down the paths of self-healing and self-improvement. Perhaps it was situations like these that your therapist always referred to. Stealthy confrontations that you usually used to avoid like rain, were the perfect moments to divulge a kind of self-reflection and improvement. To, perhaps, make known the emotions and thoughts you used to suppress and keep to yourself, the reason you had ended up that way to begin with. That was supposed to be what people normally did, to talk about their feelings…

So you just let it out.

“I'm not angry. I think I feel… embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed about what?” Bucky cocked his head to one side, his eyes scrutinizing your face as if trying to figure out if you were being serious or not.

“For confronting you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, Bucky. Here's to having you face me and confirming once again that you were right,” you rolled your eyes and took the moment to look anywhere in the cafeteria but into the blue eyes that wouldn't leave yours. “You were always right, I guess. No one else stood up to me like you did and I still lied to you looking you in the eye, wouldn't you feel the same way?”

The movement he made as he shrugged his shoulders drew your gaze, and met you with such a frightening familiarity that you felt old memories and feelings creeping up from the back of your mind to return to the surface. His calm gaze and tension-free body was what you had always been used to, and at that moment it was what you were seeing.

You didn't know how much you missed him until you saw it again.

“It's possible, yes.”

“The point is, knowing that doesn't make it any less complicated. In fact, it's a little harder to cope with. Being aware of the embarrassment… makes you more embarrassed.”

Bucky let out a short laugh. Your gaze didn't leave the way his corners turned up and then how his shoulders moved and his chest contracted in sync with that laugh. You hadn't noticed until that moment the change in the atmosphere around the two of you, much lighter and cozier, not at all hostile and toxic compared to the last few times you were together after the argument.

Mmm, maybe you were liking all that stuff about therapy. To be honest, up until that point you had discerned very few results, although some were quite important. Like, for example, you were able to keep your mind clear of self-destructive thoughts for longer, or that you could look at your past actions and reflect on them, determining clearly what things you were doing wrong and why it was wrong to do them. And there were many, many of them. Not just with the people around you, but more so with yourself.

However, in that moment, having Bucky in front of you and having been able to not only carry on a conversation for more than a minute with him, but also having been able to admit to him how you had felt and show true regret for what happened, you were able to understand that the change was much bigger than you had initially sized it up to be.

“It's serious. It complicates the process for me. That's why I didn't want to see you.”

He nodded without wiping the smile off his face. You could sense the understanding emanating through his gaze and, by the way he straightened his body, you knew he was going to give voice to the thoughts going through his head. Bucky usually kept his opinion of people to himself, he wasn't one to go around highlighting qualities in others unless he was asked or it was necessary for him to say so. Because of this, you could learn to tell when he was going to keep quiet about it and when he was willing to let it all out.

“Still, if it makes you feel any better, I can see you've come too far. Six months ago you wouldn't have said that to my face. I probably would have heard it from Sam who heard it from Clint when he eavesdropped on some conversation of yours with Wanda.”

You were really glad about what he just said, but…. what the fuck?

“Clint eavesdrops on our conversations?”

Bucky went blank. His features froze and the tension emanating from his body enveloped you both.

“Well… I only heard it once. Clint had said he'd upgraded the device for his hearing and was hearing three times as many things as he should. Among those things, he could hear you talking to Wanda in the next room.”

“I don't believe it.”

“There's nothing to tell you for sure that he did it again.”

“And how long ago was that?”

“Mmm, two years, I think.”

“Did he ever say anything to you?”

Bucky didn't answer for a few seconds, his gaze seemed lost in yours, with a solidity and strength too forceful for your tolerance. You suspected the answer was positive, but received the opposite.

“He only told me what had happened. He never told me if he understood anything he heard.”

“Uhm, you're good at getting out of tight spots.”

He gave you another one of those smiles that felt like home.

“I've had years to practice.”

The silence that followed his words was much more welcoming than before. You seemed to be able to move around the masses of air so freely that all the tension in your body could disappear in a gentle breeze.

“I'm sorry this was uncomfortable for you, but it was good to see you. And hearing you.”

“It wasn't that uncomfortable.”

“You're squeezing your legs under the table.”

You looked down, surprised, though you shouldn't be. Bucky had always been good at reading your body language. It was almost like it was his way of communicating. And yes, you were.

“You rocked from side to side. Your hands never stopped clenching in your lap. You were uncomfortable.”

“Still, I don't regret what I said.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

You had a duel of glances and you longed for that comfort you had been missing for so long. During those almost seven months of barely seeing him and not speaking to him, you had learned to appreciate the little moments in life. And you were surprised to think that before you thought you were living your life as you were doing at that moment, the present, but you were not. You learned the cruel difference between existing and living, and it wasn't hard for you to deduce why you had had such complicated moments in your life some time before.

You had never lived anything. You went through your life as a tourist and many times you weren't even in the picture. You tried so hard and constantly to convince yourself otherwise every day that it ended up tiring you out emotionally, and in the process taking everything out on the one person who tried to reach out to help you.

“Buck!” Steve's exclamation echoed throughout the cafeteria, just on time.

You turned to see him in the doorway, his raised hand gesturing for the man in front of you to follow him. Bucky stood up, but didn't leave before turning a glance at you with a warm smile worthy of summer.

“I hope to keep hearing from you more often.”

“We'll see if you're worth it.”

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joonlaksme · 8 months

Text

October 10th

Bang Chan x Pegging

Contains: afab reader, reader is a bit cocky, a little degrading, fingering (f and m receiving)

Word Count: 2.4k+

Kinktober Masterlist

“You know the drill…” And then you snort at your joke, “Heh, drill. I crack myself up sometimes.”

Chris turns from the box in your closet to raise his eyebrows at your inappropriate comment. Was that really what you were thinking about right now? To be honest, how much worse could it get? He’s known you long enough to be aware that this is just how you are sometimes. You do nothing but stare back at him, a subtle smile on your face. You seem to be satisfied with the joke you’ve made and the totally ruined mood. He opens his mouth to say something.

“I…Okay.” Although, Chris is tempted to end this relationship, whatever this is. He shuts his mouth because he’s feeling particularly horny today and no one really moved their hips like you did. Trust him, he knows. He fears he might change your mind if he says something snarky in return.

Maybe it’s a mixture of the close relationship the two of you have had since you met in college and how he’s never been able to suppress the huge crush he’s had on you. Sure, he remembers meeting you and getting to know you but it was nothing like love at first sight, given how good looking you are. He’s not sure when it started but something about you pulled him in. He’s not sure how your friendship developed into this.

This has been going on for longer than he expected it to.

He would just have to give you a certain look and your conversation would drift away. Your lips would shut and your fingers would walk up his bicep. The day would always end with his back arching and a moan so ear ringing, you’d laugh. You’d follow with something along the lines of calling him “such a baby” or calling him cute. It didn’t help how big headed you were, mocking him. You were aware of how your looks and your hips affected him. Maybe he was into the way you treated him during sex.

You rest your body on your bed and lay your head down on the plush of your pillow. Patting your lap with your free hand, you place the other behind your head. Your eyes light up when he meets them because he knows what’s going to happen. You’re relaxing…which can only mean one thing.

Chris shifts his boxers to the side so he can be more comfortable in the tightness of them. When you lay on your back or when you sit up on your headboard, it’s an invitation to take a ride. You know that he loves riding your strap, no matter how much his legs scream in exhaustion. He thinks of it as something akin to leg day at the gym. However no matter how much he favors it, you don’t let him do it as often as he likes to. One of the reasons to consider is that when he rides, he rides hard. The back of the dildo you use always ends up hitting your clit and by the end of the day, it’s way too sensitive and there’s strained marks on your thighs. He bounces so hard that it’s inevitable. Baby just gets too excited. You never came from him riding you but you’ve been close numerous times. It’s like he purposefully wants to tease you.

Why does Chris like riding you so much? Well, he can’t help but get submerged in the ocean that is your moans. They’re so pretty coming from your lips. You’re constantly on edge and it fills him with some sense of control. Not the control of being a dom but control of his feelings and your pleasure.

“I know I’m gorgeous but why look when you can ride, hm?” You usher impatiently. It’s not quite demanding but a chill tune up his spine with your tongue licks across your lips like you’re ready to eat him up.

Chris had been in a daze for a moment, thinking of the many ways this could go.

When he finally attaches the strap-on to you (you raised your hips to help but didn’t bother standing up), he’s eager to get on top of you already.

“Ah ah ah.” You stop him.

You hand lands under his thigh to keep him up as he gets on you, wanting to lower himself while looking at your face. He’s close to you, desperately wanting a kiss but holding himself back at your command.

“Don’t want you to get hurt. Turn around and lemme see that ass.”

Your words are a bit too vulgar for him and he’s close to laughing but instead, he gets the message. He lets out a disappointed huff. Gets up and pulls off the garment that’s been restricting him ever since he got in your bedroom. When he climbs back on, he’s on all fours on your lap, ass facing you. He’s looking back at you to see any signs of your approval. You’re left speechless for a bit, watching the way his hole puckers desperately, just waiting for your thrust.

You reach out with the free hand and use your thumb to press in before spreading his hole open. He lets out a breath he’s been holding as if he’s been waiting for some type of touch from you for eons.

“Can I ride you now? Please?” He wiggles his ass at you and your grip slips away.

You land a slap on the plump flesh, and he moves away from the sting with a little moan. It makes a nice sound; the ache lingers just the way he likes it and he might want you to do it again.

“You’re so cute when you beg me like that.” You mumble. You caress the red mark you made on his ass with your thumb.

It isn’t great for his heart, suddenly calling him cute like that.

“Come and sit on this cock. ‘s all yours, baby.” Your words are a bit slurred at this point, getting more and more closer to lust-drunk. You love watching him like this, he knows.

He takes a deep breath and pushes himself closer to the dildo, the toy resting right between his cheeks. He raises himself after a moment and presses his hole to the tip but doesn’t quite sit down. Just the feeling has his mind drifting off into the clouds. He’s anticipating the feeling of it filling him up and he thinks he might cum as soon as it hits his prostate. That doesn’t stop you from pulling him down by his hips and entering him in one fell swoop. The shock is great and it gets him more than it would if he inserted it himself. The way his back arches is visually delectable and you can’t help the moan that pierces from your throat, the same time as Chris.

He has to take a deep breath now and stay still. He doesn’t think he’ll last long.

“Start moving. We don’t have all day, Channie.” The way your hips try to grind up to his, causes shocks of pleasure to wave through his body. He couldn’t possibly even think about moving right now. He’s too sensitive and he might cum before the fun even starts, thinking about how embarrassing that would be. “I’m sorry, did I stutter?”

You get kind of mean the more you get into it and it’s only a matter of time before you’ll start calling him names.

He rocks his body but it doesn’t help the way he feels it in his stomach. The dildo really fills him up perfectly. He presses his abs, feeling so full.

“That’s a good slut. C’mon.” You encourage him, not moving anymore but just observing the way his ass slides on your strap. It enters slowly and once to the very bottom, he lets out a grunt and lifts himself up again.

His hands land on your knees to hold himself so he can ride you properly.

“I m-might cum.” He slows his movements even more, stiffening as his thoughts drift off to something else so he can hold himself back. “Fuck…”

You slap his other cheek this time, taking him out of his thoughts and back to earth. When he looks back at you, it’s such a lovely sight that he has to hold his cock.

“I didn’t say you could stop. I had high expectations from you.” You sound a bit disappointed.

Chris trembles. He knows you’re just messing with his head but that doesn’t stop the need to want to make you proud of him. All he has to do is move a little faster. So, he starts quickening his pace. His glances back at you give him just as much pleasure as the strap because he can see the way your mouth is ajar, caught in a trance from looking at his ass. When you do look away, you reach for the lube in the bedroom drawer beside you. Then Chris is surprised when you push him off your strap, an amount of strength he didn’t know you had.

You suck your teeth when you see his pout.

“You’re such a baby. I’m just getting it wet for you. Do you really like my cock that much?” And then you scoff with that snarky smirk of yours and a similar attitude to pair.

You pop open the bottle in your hands. Lube coats your fingers and you jerk off the dildo to cover it. Then you wipe your fingers on his hole. Your finger slips in with barely any resistance and then you hook it, hitting the exact spot he’s been abusing this whole time while riding you. You can’t help the smile on your face as you thrust your finger. He rocks his hips to it but it’s not enough and he doesn’t wanna cum to this.

“Wait!” He says out loud, grasping his dick again.

“Is there a problem?” You feign ignorance but stop like he says and pull your finger out.

Chris takes this as an invitation to sit back on you. This time, it’s more slippery and wet. It’s easier for him to set a faster pace than he had before and he wants to cum so badly but his refractory period is terrible. If he came now, that would be the end of today.

“Y/N…?” It’s a mixture of a moan and a way to get your attention.

“Y-yes, Chan?” You stutter and it fills him with glee. You rarely stutter unless you’re really turned on. This is what gives him the confidence to ask his next question.

“Can I finger you while I sit on your strap?”

Then your hand lands on his hip, stopping his movements. “Shit, what’s gotten into you.” And he looks back to see your face again. Your expression is scrunched up but not in disgust. It’s more like you’re so overwhelmed with pleasure. “Just wanna feel how wet I am, or somethin’?”

Chris won’t deny that’s one of the many reasons but he tells you his main reason. “I just…really want you to cum on my fingers.”

You thrust up, catching him off guard. His yelp as he catches himself on your knee satisfies you. “Oh yeah? Go ahead and push my panties to the side.”

He sits up and does as you say. At his angle, he doesn’t have a great sight of your pussy but he knows exactly where to go. A finger slides between your folds before breaching your hole and when you shift your hips up to take more of his fingers, your cock grinds on the spot he needs you the most.

The noises that follow are far from holy. He gets another finger in you, crooking them to find that rough patch. He knows he’s found your spot when you’re moving your hips up and down.

“I can’t-“ His moans cut him off from saying what he wants to say. He gets louder as he gets closer and closer to his climax.

You’re too distracted to come up with anything snarky so instead you reach over and take his cock in your hand. It comes to life in your grip and Chris has to stop his movements so his brain can zero in on the pleasure you’re giving him. His eyes shut immediately. Your hips keep moving for him, all the way inside of him before shallowly pushing your body into the mattress and repeating that motion. It seems to be doing the trick because it’s only a matter of time before his eyes are glazing over and he’s cumming all over your fingers. You milk him for all he’s worth before his dick softens in your grip.

Just when you think everything’s done, it’s not. His fingers are still stuffed in you and now his goal is to make you cum, no matter what.

“Channie-“ You can’t help your voice.

He shifts his body so the dildo still rubs your clit but with this extra stimulation, there’s no way you’re lasting long.

You shake in your orgasm, fireworks bursting behind your eyelids when you clench them close. Waves of your climax shut on his fingers so tight that his dick hurts because he’s imagining it’s not his fingers but something else instead.

He slowly pulls out then lifts with his aching legs off of your strap. He flops on the side of you on your bed, out of breath and hips achy.

Your clean hand lands on his back, comforting circles rubbed with your thumb. He wants to fall asleep but your voice stops him from doing so. “We gotta clean up.”

You wipe your fingers off with nearby pocket tissues. You take Chris’ hand in yours and wipe them off as well.

“Thanks for that, again.” His voice is muffled in your pillow but you can make out his words. You aren’t sure if he’s talking about you wiping off his fingers or for giving him another good fuck.

You detach the harness from your legs and waist and place the things to the side. Your hand is in his hair soon after, playing with strains and losing knots with your fingers. He turns his head to look at you and his heart beats out of his chest. You’re leaning on your hand and softly smiling at him. It’s that type of smile that’s full of care.

Then he begins to think, maybe he does have a chance after all.

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201 notes · View notes

daydreamtofiction · 4 months

Text

Thou Shalt Not Covet // 11: Communion

Contents | Part 10 | First Person Version [AO3]

Summary: (Priest!Benedict x Female Reader) With fresh starts and awkward family dinners, things seem to be changing for Ellis.

Word Count: 5.6K

Warnings: Strong language, irreverence, dark humour, sexual references, discussions of death and loss. Readers must be 18+

You could hear them through your bedroom door; Gina's voice fluctuating between hushed indignation and histrionic sobbing, while Alfie gave little in return besides the occasional mumble. You wondered about all the times you'd heard them talking before; the sudden silence when you'd enter a room, the laughing and teasing you never thought to question. Had they been talking about you in those moments? Whispering declarations of desire to one another and finding thrill in the risk of being caught?

You heard a door slam shut, their voices fading to a distant drone as you zipped up your jeans and pulled on a t-shirt Gina was always trying to steal. You never understood why she wanted it so much; it was plain, boring, the neckline beginning to fray on one side. But maybe it wasn't about the t-shirt at all. Maybe the only reason she wanted it was because it belonged to you.

You brushed the wet hair out of your face with your hands, the act instantly transporting you back to last night; how it felt to rake your fingers through Father Benedict's rain-sodden curls. You shivered, shaking it away quickly before moving around the room, scooping up whatever you could and dumping it into a large gym bag on the bed.

The process felt mechanical, void of any grief or attachment to the possessions that anchored you to this place. You zipped up the bag and looked around at the rest of your things; mementos from times you no longer cared to remember, photographs of people you never truly knew, wallpaper you'd been so excited to put up and a bed you'd shared with someone who wasted three years of your life.

You stepped into a pair of old, worn-in trainers, the leather so soft and slackened that you didn't even have to untie the laces anymore. Slinging the bag over your shoulder, you made your way to the door, turning the handle and pushing it slowly in an attempt to stop it from creaking.

You successfully made it to the top of the stairs before the door behind you swung open, making you huff in defeat.

"So that's it?" asked Alfie with a slight lisp, his mouth swollen from Father Benedict's punch. "You're just off, then?"

You turned to look up at him. "What else were you expecting? Even if Gina hadn't kicked me out, do you really think I'd want to stay here?"

he shook his head. "It's like you don't care."

"Oh, well I'm sorry for not reacting to you cheating on me in a way you find acceptable."

"I don't mean- I just- You haven't even given me a chance to explain-"

"I have no interest in hearing you try to justify this, Alfie. If you and Gina wanted to be together, you could've just said so instead of doing this to me."

"But it's not like that between me and G."

"Not like that? I walked in on it!"

"I mean I don't want to be with her! You were pulling away and she was... there. It was a moment of weakness that just spiralled-"

Gina emerged from the room, elbowing Alfie as she stormed past him, mascara like ink blots across her cheeks.

He looked over at her as she marched into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her, then back down to you.

"How many times?" you asked.

He rolled his eyes.

"Go on, how many moments of weakness are we talking?"

He dropped his head, refusing to answer.

You nodded, pressing your tongue to the inside of your cheek. "Can you at least tell me... Were you safe?"

"Yes," he replied weakly.

"Condoms?"

"Yes."

"Every single time?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Well thanks for that, at least."

You turned, hoisting the bag back up your shoulder and continuing down the stairs.

"So you can go and let Father Bellend know he's not going to catch anything from you," he muttered.

You stopped, shuddering at the realisation that you'd told him; the words you'd spat at him like venom now trickling down your spine.

"I just said that to piss you off," you said.

"Wait, so you didn't sleep with him?"

"No!" You hoped you were convincing, unable to tell beneath the bruises and swelling if he was buying it. "How insecure do you have to be to feel threatened by a priest?"

"The same priest who did this?" He pointed to his face.

"You deserved it."

You finally made it down to the bottom of the staircase, glancing over your shoulder to see him still standing at the top.

"D'you know, Mara never liked you," you began. "I always thought she was just being a bitch, judgemental, too stuck up to give you a chance. But it turns out she was the only one who could see right through you."

Daylight clung to the horizon, casting a golden hue across a blushing sky. The days since you'd left Gina's house had grown warmer, brighter, with mild breezes and longer evenings, as though the earth itself was rejoicing in your newfound freedom.

You stepped off the bus with a sigh, thankful to escape the humid air of squashed passengers and closed windows. The walk to your mother's house was short, so you made the effort to slow your pace, making it last that little bit longer to steal solace wherever you could get it, even in the five minutes between bus stop and front door.

She'd been surprisingly tactful about the whole thing, welcoming you back when you turned up on her doorstep two nights earlier, making up the bed in your old room and leaving you to settle in without prying; no questions, no judgement, no classic mum-isms you'd come to expect from her. Maybe she was secretly happy to have a fledgling back in her empty nest, careful not to do anything that may make you fly away.

You reached the house as a car pulled up outside, its large tyres mounting the kerb with a gentle bounce. You raised your hand in a subtle wave as you made your way to the front door, rummaging for your keys inside your large, overfilled tote.

"Did you just get off work?" Mara called out as she climbed out of the passenger side.

You nodded, watching as she made her way around the back of the car. She didn't seem surprised to see you there, which meant your mother had told her. The thought made you groan internally.

"What are you doing here?" you asked.

"Nice to see you too," said Nathan with a slight laugh as he emerged from the car.

"Dinner," said Mara, as though it should have been obvious.

She unclipped Soleil from her abundance of safety straps and seat belts, before hoisting her onto her hip and making her way up the path to meet you.

"How was work?" she asked.

"Eh." You shrugged, finally pulling out your keys. "Spent the day staring at pictures of babies in silly outfits."

"Sounds cute."

"That's one word for it."

The front door opened straight into a spacious living room. Perfectly tidy as always; cushions plumped, surfaces dusted, vacuum lines still visible in the rug. Since the divorce, your mother had taken to redecorating every few years. You always assumed it was a way of erasing any evidence that your father once lived there, but you were starting to think she just got bored easily. Right now, she was fond of the colour silver; opting for glittery wallpaper, velvet curtains and a large mirrored coffee table in the centre of the room. It was headache-inducing, yet there was something oddly comforting about it at the same time.

"Oh, she mustn't be back yet," said Mara.

"Back from where?" you replied as you hung your bag over the banister.

"She said she was going to the church to pick up all the stuff."

"The church?"

"Well, the pub next door to it."

"Oh." You swallowed, your mouth turning weirdly dry. "What stuff?"

"Banners, bunting, that big balloon arch. We didn't have time to take it all down after the christening on Sunday so they stuck it in the back for us."

"Ah." You gave a distracted nod and made your way across the room.

"Where are you going?"

"I just need a drink."

You walked into the kitchen, pulling a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water. The door opened behind you as you gulped it down. You wiped your mouth and glanced over your shoulder, forcing a bright smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"So," said Mara, lifting the lid off the slow cooker and glancing inside. "Mum said you're staying here for a little while...?"

"Mhm."

She paused, leaning back against the counter with folded arms as she waited for you to elaborate. Instead you stood there quietly, rolling the cold glass over your warm cheek.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" she pressed.

"I moved out," you replied simply.

She lowered her head slightly, staring at you beneath a heavy brow.

"What?"

She parted her lips to speak, but a noise from the living room caught her attention; the front door opening and closing, your mother's voice singing a cheerful greeting.

She gave you another dubious look. "You're going to tell me what happened."

You rolled your eyes and put the glass in the sink before reluctantly following behind her.

"So this... dinner thing, do you do this regularly then?" you asked.

"Maybe a couple of times a month."

"Why have you never invited me?"

"Would you come if we did?"

"Probably not."

"Well there you go."

Mara stopped suddenly in the doorway, making you bump clumsily into her back. You were ready for her to berate you for it, tell you to watch where you were going. But instead she gave a high-pitched 'oh', reaching back to grip your arm.

You furrowed your brow and peered over her shoulder into the living room, the air immediately evaporating from your chest as your gaze locked on a set of glacial eyes.

He was carrying a large plastic storage bin, the weight of it evident in the whitening of his knuckles as he hauled it through the door. The lid lifted slightly, a single yellow balloon escaping and rising to the ceiling.

"Father," said Mara, confusion laced in her cheery tone. "Well this is a surprise."

"Hello," he said. "Nice to see you all again."

You remained in the doorway of the kitchen, eyes wide, watching as your mother directed him to put the box on the floor. He was stiff in his movements, his gaze darting to you every few moments, the discomfort clear on his face.

"You're a godsend," said your mother. "Do you mind helping me with the last few bits?"

"Of course not." He smiled, making his way back outside.

"I'll do it, mum," you said quickly, hurrying across the room. "You sit down."

"Oh, okay, thanks love."

You wiped your palms on your trousers as you rushed down the path, catching up with him as he opened the boot of his car. Another balloon escaped, he caught it before it floated away, stuffing it back inside a bin bag and twisting it closed.

"What are you doing here?" you hissed, leaning in and grabbing a box filled with table centrepieces.

"I ran into her outside the church," he replied. "She needed help with all this stuff, I couldn't just leave her to struggle."

"Yes you could."

He rolled his eyes. "Relax, you haven't told them anything, have you?"

"Of course not."

"Then it's fine. Help me get this inside and then I'll leave."

You gathered the rest of the decorations. He reached up to close the boot, stopping to look down at you.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You haven't text, so I assume everything was alright after I left the other day?"

"I haven't paid my phone bill, remember?"

He breathed out a laugh, shaking his head softly.

"But no, it was fine," you sighed. "I said a few things, packed and came here. Uneventful, all things considered."

He nodded and closed the boot with a heavy slam, hoisting an obnoxiously large display of balloons and flowers over his shoulder.

"How's your hand?" you asked.

He laughed again, looking down at the faint bruising on his knuckles. "It's fine. Was worth it."

You glanced up at him, eyes falling immediately to the slight smirk across his lips; a smirk that held entirely new meaning now. You'd kissed those lips, felt them on your skin. Those lips had tasted you, parted to let out the most divine moans.

He arched an eyebrow. "Ellis," he whispered sternly. "Stop looking at me like that."

It sounded like a reprimand, but you knew it was more of a warning; a reminder that nothing innocent ever came from those looks.

You conceded, clearing your throat and making your way back into the house.

"Why don't you stay for dinner?"

This was it. Your punishment from the heavens.

Father Benedict let out an appreciative sigh. "Oh, no, I-"

"Come on, I insist," said your mother. "You came all this way to help me, it's only fair."

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Consider it a thank you, especially after everything you did getting the christening sorted so quickly."

"I er..." he blew out a long breath. "I really don't want to impose-"

"Nonsense! Go on, sit down."

She gestured towards the dining room before disappearing into the kitchen. Mara waited until she was gone before letting out a laugh, turning to Father Benedict with an apologetic smile.

The silver theme had bled into the dining room; sparkles and mirrors and crushed velvet cushions on each chair. You wandered around the table, stopping at Cain's chair and making an elaborate sidestep to avoid it. Mara rolled her eyes at you, sitting down with Soleil in her arms as Nathan pulled up a chair beside her. You slumped into your seat, pressing your lips together firmly as Father Benedict sat down directly opposite you.

"She's hungry," Mara muttered, reaching to open her blouse. "You don't mind do you, Father? It's not offensive or anything?"

You rubbed your eyes. Ah yes, just what this nightmare of a situation was missing, you thought, my sister's left tit.

"No, not at all," he said politely. "I think it's beautiful. The breastfeeding, I mean, not your... erm..."

"Jesus Christ," you mumbled under your breath.

Your mother pushed the door open with her hip, walking in and placing a large pot in the centre of the table. "Beef stew, help yourselves. Father, can I get you anything?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm good, thank you."

"Are you sure? Anything? Condiments? Extra bread? Something different to drink?"

"Just sit down, mum," said Mara. "Leave the poor man alone."

She raised her hands in surrender and sat down at the head of the table.

"Sorry about her," Mara added, turning to Father Benedict. "I think she's got a bit of a crush on you."

He chuckled, and you shuddered at the thought.

"He's a handsome man, Mara." She turned to Nathan. "Isn't he."

"I couldn't possibly comment," he replied.

Everyone laughed, even your own face broke with a smile.

It was astonishing, how one person could be so charming, so charismatic and endearing that everyone he came into contact with was left in awe of him. And it was you he'd chosen. This man, who was so delicious that the flavour of him lingered in the mouths of people who'd barely had a taste, had wanted you, worshipped you, fantasised about you.

You.

Everyone made smalltalk as they ate, the sound of cutlery clinking against dishes filling the brief silences between conversation. You'd never been good at smalltalk. But then again, you'd never been particularly good at 'big talk' either; preferring to melt into the background, nibbling on a piece of bread as you took in the mundanity of everyday chatter around you.

"So go on then, why've you moved back home?" said Mara, bringing you back into focus.

You glared at her, pausing for a moment before shrugging. "I broke up with Alfie."

"After the christening?"

"Mhm."

"What happened?"

You picked up your spoon and swirled it in your stew, pushing a chunk of potato around the bowl as you spoke. "Caught him cheating on me... With Gina."

Your mother gasped, Nathan's eyes widened in shock.

"That fucker," Mara spat.

"Mara," said your mother, nodding towards Father Benedict.

"Sorry," she said.

"It's alright," he replied. "He does sound like a fucker."

Everyone laughed quietly, easing the tension around the table.

You exchanged brief but intense eye contact with him. He turned his head quickly, exposing the edge of a love bite from beneath the collar of his jumper. You bit your lip, holding back a smile before spooning stew into your mouth.

"So yeah," you mumbled as you chewed. "It is what it is."

Mara's eyes narrowed. You could tell she was sceptical, trying to work out why you weren't more upset. Her gaze darted between you and Father Benedict before she relaxed back into her chair.

"Gina text me that night asking if you were at mine," she said.

"Yeah, I walked out after I caught them."

"Where did you go?"

"A friend's. So mum, I was wondering if I'd be okay to stay until I sort out a place to live."

"Of course," she said.

"What friend?" Mara pressed.

"Does it matter?" you replied. "Why did Gina say I'd left?"

"She didn't. Conveniently left that part out. Why did you go to a friend's house and not come to mine?"

You shrugged. "Because we don't do that."

"What?"

"Come to each other for things."

"You can come to me for things."

You furrowed your brow in confusion. "Wh-"

"How are you going to move everything out of the house?" asked your mother.

"I've asked Dad if he can drive me over in his van at the weekend."

"God this is just awful." She placed her head in her hands. "What are you going to do, Ellis? You've got no money."

"Cheers, mum."

"And I've not got the funds to help you get a place of your own. Do you think your dad and Nicola could help?"

"I don't- no, I'm- I'll work something out."

"Mum," said Mara. "You're embarrassing her in front of the clergyman."

Father Benedict dropped his head with an awkward laugh. "It's fine. This is nothing compared to some of the things I've heard in this job."

"Ooh like what?" your mother leaned closer.

"If you can think of it, someone's probably confessed it to me."

"Wow." She rested her cheek on her fist, studying his face. "Is that why you wanted to be a priest? All the gossip?"

He cleared his throat and set his spoon on the edge of his bowl. "Well, actually, I er... I had a brother who passed away-"

She gasped. "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry. You know, the girls lost a brother as well. Cain, my eldest. He was only twenty-four."

Mara shuffled uncomfortably in her seat.

"How did he go?" your mother continued. "If you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh, he... He had substance abuse issues," he replied. "Sorted himself out towards the end though, got clean. But by that point he'd already done so much damage, his body just... gave out."

You felt a pang in your chest, his voice so soft and sincere you could almost hear the heartbreak.

"I'm sorry." She reached over and placed a hand on his for a moment, her fingers resting over the bruises on his knuckles.

He smiled, seemingly grateful for the comfort. "He was religious towards the end. It made me start looking at my own faith after he passed."

She nodded. "Y'know when we first lost Cain, I contemplated going to church a few times. But the way he died, it was so... brutal. I couldn't fathom a god would let that happen-"

"Mum," Mara groaned, almost pleading for her to stop.

"Ellis was thirteen," she continued obliviously. "Decided she wanted to do gymnastics, but the place was so far away she wouldn't be able to make it there after school unless someone drove her."

Mara let out a huff before handing the baby to Nathan. "She's full, I'll be back in a minute."

You watched as she rose from the table, walking out as your mother continued to speak.

"Mara was the one who usually took her, but she was busy on this particular day so Cain did it instead. Anyway, on their way home he lost control of the car. The pair of them were in terrible shape. They had to cut you out from the roof, didn't they Ellis."

You exhaled a long, slow breath.

"Obviously she survived, thank god. But Cain wasn't wearing his seatbelt."

"Gosh, I'm so sorry," said Father Benedict.

You stood up suddenly, brushing your hair out of your face. "I'm going to get another drink."

Mara was stood in the kitchen, staring out of the window at the darkening sky, tongue pressed to the inside of her cheek. You closed the door behind you and let out a sigh.

"Is she still going on about it?" she asked, eyes fixed on the window.

"Mhm."

"Fuck sake," she whispered. "She just talks about it fucking constantly. Anyone who'll listen. The poor guy only came to help with decorations and now she's dumping all the family trauma on him."

"He doesn't mind. He's good with this kind of stuff, always knows what to say."

She finally looked at you. "What did you mean when you said we don't come to each other for things?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and shrugged. "I don't know. We just... don't. Not like proper sisters."

"Proper sisters?"

"You know what I mean. Sisters who aren't nine years apart. Who don't have a huge elephant following them into every room."

She returned to looking out of the window.

You licked your lips awkwardly before making your way towards the fridge. "After Cain died-"

"Ellis," she groaned.

"Just let me... After Cain died, I snuck into your room a few times when you were out and read your diary."

She spun around. "You did what? Why?"

"Honestly? I always felt like you wished it would've been me instead of him. But I knew you'd never actually say that out loud. So I'd skim through looking for my name to see if you wrote it there instead."

She stood there, speechless, lips parted in stunned silence. "You actually thought I wished you'd died in that car?"

"If it meant he got to walk away from it instead-"

"Well that's not true. Of course it's not fucking true. I- well, let's get one thing straight, if we're wishing for stuff I'd have just wished for no one to die."

"Fair."

"But no. Ellis, Jesus Christ, no. I know I've not been the best sister in the world, but bad enough for you to think I wished you weren't here? Really?"

"Well I don't think that anymore. But it's hard, I mean, why would I go to you for things when I spent the majority of my life feeling like you resented me?"

Her shoulders slumped, a defeated breath leaving her.

"Do you know, I think it actually bothered me more that you just never wrote about me at all," you said. "Ever."

"There isn't enough paper and ink in the world, that's why."

You laughed softly, turning to pour yourself a drink.

"Can we just get rid of the elephant?" she asked.

"Hm?"

"Tell it to fuck off. Leave us alone."

You turned back to face her, thinking for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. I'm not sure how you tell an elephant to fuck off, but we can give it a go."

"Okay. Good." She paused. "Do we hug now or something?"

"I'm not really a hugger."

"Thank god, neither am I."

You took a large gulp of your drink. She watched you quietly, eyes burning into you.

"Are you really alright? About Alfie and Gina?"

"Yeah. I actually am. I think I finally understand what people mean when they say it feels like a weight's been lifted off them. I feel lighter."

She smiled.

"We should probably go back in," you said.

"Yeah. Get back to Mr tall dark and handsome."

"Mara."

"What?" she laughed. "Do you know he hasn't stopped looking at you all night?"

"I think he just feels awkward."

"Hm."

"He's a priest. Even if... I don't know, there's just- It's not..." "Who knows, maybe he's secretly well up for it."

You laughed. "Yeah, maybe."

She walked towards the door. You followed behind, stopping when she turned to whisper.

"Just do me a favour, whatever you do, don't get pregnant. Your hair falls out, you can't cough without pissing yourself and your sex life goes down the drain."

"Well if you're pissing yourself all the time, it's no wonder."

She glared at you, but it only lasted a moment before a smile began to emerge.

Mara warned you not to get pregnant. And if that wasn't caution enough, watching forty nine-year-olds running wild around a church would definitely do it. They were loud, boisterous, ignoring their exhausted parents as they bounced from pew to pew.

A headache was taking root behind your eyes, every screeching voice and thud of little feet making it worse. You were beginning to think June lied when she said she was visiting her niece in Wales, maybe she just wanted to avoid doing this.

You stood near the doors of the chapel, handing out pens and taking attendance as each family arrived. Father Benedict walked up and down the aisle, welcoming them with smiles and high-fives, asking parents to spread out, though not many seemed to listen.

You kept glancing over your shoulder at him, as though you couldn't help but steal a quick peek whenever his back was turned. He was wearing a pair of black trousers and a snug-fitting fleece jacket, his white collar peeking out of the top. It had been four days since the night you spent together, yet the look on his face when you took that collar off was as fresh as the moment it happened, even down to the popping sound it made as you tugged it away from his neck.

He checked his watch before turning on his heels, strolling leisurely towards you.

"How are you getting on?" he asked, glancing down at the attendance sheet in your hands.

"Just making a mental note to take my contraception later," you replied, looking around as a group of kids chased each other from one side of the chapel to the other.

He laughed. "They're fine when you know how to handle them. Watch."

He turned around and cupped his hands around his mouth, his voice loud and commanding, echoing in the steepled roof. "Okay everyone! I'm going to begin, so I want children sat with their parents please!"

The children immediately fell into order, their ruckus fading to a quiet hum as they rushed to sit down.

You bit your lip; the way he could control a room with nothing but his voice stirring something deep inside you. He walked down the aisle to the altar and turned to face them all, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"Welcome, everyone. Thank you very much, as always, for coming. I know these preparation sessions can be a bit of a pain when we're all so busy, but it is so important for the children to be attending, especially as their first holy communion is just around the corner."

'What's that?" a young boy with a freckled nose asked, pointing to a small brass font on the wall.

"Holy water," you replied, chin resting on your fist as you sat at the back of the chapel.

"What's that?"

"A sanctuary lamp."

"What about that over there?"

"A hymn book."

"And what's that?"

"That's just a radiator."

"Oh."

"Bradley," his mother shouted. "Come on, leave the lady alone."

It was the longest hour of your life. Father Benedict had sent the children on a scavenger hunt around the church, challenging them to tick off as many items as they could find. But for some reason, most of them were more fascinated with you. They came over in waves, small groups of curious eyes asking you random questions, touching your things or trying to trick you into identifying everything for them.

You checked your phone. Ten minutes. Just ten more minutes.

"What's your name?" a soft, delicate voice asked.

You looked up to see a small waif of a girl standing next to you, the biggest brown eyes you'd ever seen gazing at you in wonder.

"Ellis," you replied.

"I'm Dot."

"Dot?"

"Mhm." She nodded, hugging her work book close to her chest. "Are you Father Benedict's wife?"

You gave a soft laugh. "No, just a helper."

"Oh okay." She paused, looking down at her feet. "I think you're really pretty," she finally said.

Your mouth fell open slightly; the compliment somehow meaning more coming from a child.

"Thank you. I think you're really pretty too."

She smiled, a set of deep dimples forming in her cheeks before skipping away.

Maybe a kid or two wouldn't be so bad, you thought. No, god no, Ellis. Remember what Mara said about peeing yourself all the time.

The session ended ten minutes late. You sighed as the final few families left, your headache already beginning to ease in the newfound silence. You closed the doors, leaning back against them dramatically for a moment.

"You survived!" Father Benedict's voice echoed across the vast, empty space.

"Next time I volunteer myself for something, remind me of tonight," you called back.

He chuckled, taking a set of keys from his pocket. "Can you lock those doors for me?"

You nodded before letting out a pathetic shriek as the keys came soaring through the air towards you. When they landed at your feet, you looked up to see him laughing, covering his mouth with his hand.

"What about me makes you think I'd be good at catching?" you shouted.

He continued to laugh, picking up a box and disappearing into the back.

It was eerie being the only person in a church; the slightest movements seeming to echo, every piece of art staring directly at you. You locked the doors and began cleaning up, weaving through the pews collecting pens and forgotten booklets, the occasional sweet wrapper.

You wandered down towards Father Benedict's office, tapping your knuckles against the open door and stepping inside.

"Some left over booklets," you said.

He was crouched at a small filing cabinet, fanning his fingers through a drawer of papers. "Oh, thanks," he said, glancing over his shoulder at you. "Just throw them on the desk."

You walked over and threw them down as instructed, hovering for a moment, like something inside you didn't want to leave.

"A little girl thought I was your wife," you said with a slight smirk.

He stood up, brushing the stray curls out of his eyes. "Really? That's quite cute actually."

"Mm. She called me pretty and I nearly cried."

He smiled, walking over to the desk. "She's not wrong."

You kept your eyes on him, watching his hands as they fanned out the booklets, his jaw clenching as he peered down at them.

"Anything else you want me to do?" you asked.

He presses his lips together in thought. "No, I think that's everything. You're relieved from duty."

"Thank god."

"I appreciate you helping out tonight. I know it's a bit... awkward."

"Is it?"

"Well it's the first time we've been alone together since..."

You looked around the office, setting your sights on the couch for a moment before returning to him.

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Don't even think about it."

"I didn't say anything."

He moved slightly closer, lowering his voice. "Ellis, it is taking everything in me to behave myself."

You gazed up at him, a thousand comebacks flitting through your mind. But in the end, you chose to yield, nodding gently and stepping away. "I'll get going then."

You left the office, pulling the door closed behind you with a disappointed huff. It was harder, somehow, to leave empty handed after knowing what it felt like to get every last piece of him. But you hadn't come here for that; you came to help, and now it was time to go.

"Fuck sake," you whispered, halting halfway down the hall when you realised the keys were still in your pocket.

You turned around to begin walking back, but the sound of the office door made you slow to a stop.

Father Benedict stepped out, his eyes falling on you. "You have-"

"The keys, I know," you laughed, taking them out and hurrying over to him.

He took them from you and slipped them into his back pocket, looking down at you with a heavy, pensive brow. You swallowed hard, eyes flitting to the love bite peeking over his collar. You wanted to reach out and touch it, run your fingers over the place your mouth had been, the flesh you'd marked as yours. But you resisted, breathing steadily, waiting for him to speak.

"Fuck it," he finally said, and in one swift movement, his hands were on your face.

He pulled you into a hard, aggressive kiss, spinning you around and pressing you back against the wall. You gasped into his mouth, fingers immediately finding his hair and grasping it tight.

His breath was hot, hungry, overflowing with need and frustration. You felt his hands move from your face to your neck, fingertips pushing into the soft skin of your throat as his body pressed firmly into you.

When he finally broke away, he kept his face close; forehead resting against yours, panting heavily into your open mouth. You moaned softly, chest heaving in an attempt to catch your breath as you stared up at him in awe.

He always said you had a way of looking at him. But the way he was looking at you right now; nothing but fire.

*Tags: @evelynrosestuff @thealleydog @lexlexigogh @allie131313 @simpingbestie @ironstrange1991 @witchoftheages @hiddendiary @swds @jyessaminereads @withalittlehoney @hunterofshadows04 @slytherindoctorsat221b @diabaroxa @phoebe221 @hai-kbai @downtownshabby @dara-of-qui-zi @unfilteredmoonchild @classicrebound @bigratbitchsworld @aphroditesdilemma @bloodyxsaint @ployavengersog1 @spectaclebitch @paola-carter @veryladyqueen @gordorio @shjl15 @thedaredevilsgirl @howardtonypotts @ceccille @wllsfer @thelostsmiles @vi0letdaze @stanfanfiction @king-kongbebe-blog @sof38 @doctorscarletwitch @rmoonstoner @intrappolatatrairicordi @ehuether @dragonqueen89 @estheticwh0re @Lfp10836

*If you would like to be tagged in the next part, please comment below, or feel free to add yourself to the tag list here

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 9 months

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Hello! I hope you're having a good day!

Could you perhaps write a Shinsou! Reader in RoR? Like, when they're being introduced, Heimdall is saying stuff that makes them sound like a terrifying adult with powers to control anyone with just a word so the fighters think that someone big and strong shows up, then Reader walks out with their training clothes and capture gear, noticeably NOT an adult, just barely a teen with heavy bags and a smirk. The human fighters are enraged but reader just shuts them up before they begin the fight.

Once the round begins, reader instantly begins to insult the god they're fighting, riling them up as the god answers the question and loses control of their body, standing still as reader smirks again and tells them to give up the fight, shocking everyone when god actually does.

-The lights dimmed, a spotlight on Heimdall as he pointed towards humanity’s door, “For humanity- no other has been able to gain control of a fight faster than this next opponent!! Able to win matches without laying a single blow on their opponent!!”

-The arena was curious, wanting to know who could do such a thing, gods mummering in worry as well as curiosity, matching humanity who was curious, as no names were coming to mind of such a warrior.

-Heimdall smirked, hyping you up even more, you couldn’t help but smirk lightly at his words, making you sound like a fearsome warrior. You lifted your hand to your hair, ruffling lightly in embarrassment as the doors slowly opened.

-Heimdall pointed at you as the lights came back on, “For humanity- Y/N!!” unlike the cheers you were expecting to hear, the stadium was quick to fill with shouts of outrage and anger, seeing a teenager.

-You looked nothing like a warrior, wearing your high school gym uniform with your capture weapon around your neck, something that was given to you by your mentor while you were back on earth; large bags hung under your eyes, showing that you were tired looking, but the most distinctive feature- you were a teenager!!

-Why was a teenager fighting?!

-Many quickly turned on Brunnhilde, both gods and humans, angry that she was making a child fight, but you were quick to speak, “Shut up. I don’t see any of you willing to fight- if you’re not going to take my place- then shut your mouths.”

-Your words stunned everyone, seeing that you were rather crass and bristly, but when you heard no other complaints your shoulders shook softly in laughter, seeing that you were proven right.

-Your opponent looked angry, seeing that his opponent was a child, he didn’t want to fight a child, not wanting to be deemed a brute for doing so.

-As the match started you charged in, no intention on landing any blows, but you got in close to dodge his blows, almost like you were playing with him, angering him.

-You smirked, “You talked so much crap before I came out- didn’t you say you were going to easily win?” he didn’t answer, swiping again and humanity was impressed with your skills, you moved like a trained warrior.

-You managed to use your capture weapon to pin his arm back, “Do you give up?” he glared harshly at you, offended that you would suggest such a thing, “Of course not!!”

-He then froze as you activated your quirk and everyone froze as you released him, but he didn’t move and you spoke, “Give up the match.”

-He lifted his hand, as if his movements were not his own as he spoke, “I forfeit the match to Y/N!” the crowd was stunned, seeing your abilities as humanity was quick to cheer and while the gods were upset that they lost, you both walked out with your lives.

-Zeus knew that you could be dangerous if you wanted to be, but you didn’t seem interested in becoming a threat as you released your quirk, and your opponent realized quickly what you had done, stunned, before he left, vowing to train harder.

-Brunnhilde ruffled your hair lightly as Goll hugged you, congratulating you on your win which did make you smile before Brunnhilde told you that she had your favorite foods sent to your waiting room as you could relax now.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror brunhilde #ror zeus

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reallyromealone · 2 years

Note

Can I request Aizawa A/B/O with his male omega mate? Like maybe Alpha Aizawa forgets something important at home so his darling mate brings it to him and UA goes crazy not knowing he had a mate? (If not I completely understand. Also if knowing my age is important for request I'm 20 turning 21 in a few months)

IMPORTANT PAPERS

Aizawa x Omega male reader

⭐Warnings⭐

Fluff, omegaverse, male reader

A/N:Age isn't important unless it's nsfw content then I would recommend looking at my rules for that lol

And you sure can my dude

Also I am very anti all might and no I don't accept criticism on my feelings

(Name) was a bit confused as he was directed to 1-A, the halls empty as students were in classes and such as he made his way to the classroom only to see a sign that said "at gym Gamma" on it in his mates messy handwriting causing (name) to sigh and continue his journey to find his mate and not get lost in the maze of a school.

When he made it to the gym he was hesitant to open the door but eventually cracked it open "I'm..I'm sorry to interrupt but is this 1-A?" (Name) asked hesitantly to the students who stood around all might who looked confused behind the large grin "yes can we help you?" All might boomed out, something that would startle (name) if he wasn't already used to his mates close friends "I'm looking for Aizawa... Is he here?"

All the young alpha and betas looked confused, this didn't look like a hero at all if anything he looked like a house husband not to mention the Omegan collar he wore as omegas weren't really in the hero industry and if they were they masqueraded as betas.

"And why would you need him?" All might asked the omega with a slightly raised eyebrow "oh! Well you see he forgot some papers and lunch... So I brought them for him! Do you know where he is?"

"Well whatever you have you can leave and can be given to him when he returns, you may leave"

"I'm sorry but I can't do that" all might wasn't expecting the Omega to just outwardly reject his words, holding the papers close "he told me anything should be given directly to him"

"Well I'm sure he would prefer these papers to be with a pro hero instead of some Omega"

And the room halted at that, the dismissive tone and blase attitude that made (name) stare down at him "if that's the attitude you will have I will go and find him"

"You can leave the papers"

"Absolutely not, he said they have to be given to him directly if he forgets anything"

"I understand but if those papers are so important they should be with a pro hero"

"Pro hero or not these aren't going with you and I'm sorry"

"Who even are you? How did you get into the school"

"He's my mate"

The room halted as Aizawa walked in annoyed but proud of his mate for standing his ground and knowing if things escalated his students would step in "mate?"

"Sho!" (Name) perked up and trotted to his alpha happily "you forgot those papers and your lunch" (name) said happily as he handed the items to his alpha as instructed "I knew I was forgetting something..." Aizawa said as he took the contents "did you have any troubles?"

"Not many, I did get a bit lost after getting Nedzus directions to your class but it wasn't too hard"

"That's good"

"Can someone explain what's going on?"

Aizawa sighed at the blond before looking at his class "this is my mate (name) yes he is an Omega and yes when the dorms are built he will be coming with me"

"Aizawa it's highly unprofessional to have your Omega walking around here! This is no place for them!"

Aizawa glared down the number one hero before spitting out venomously "refer to him as if he's second class and I swear to god"

All might for once knew to keep his mouth shut as the class swarmed he mates "what's your name?" "What's your quirk?!" "Are you really mates with our teacher?!" "Are you also a pro?!"

(Name) looked a little overwhelmed at the students swarming him but put on a smile none the less, he just challenged the 1 one hero, answering a few questions from pups is nothing!

"One at a time problem children" Aizawa said loudly to the students who quieted down, the teacher already knowing he's not gonna get out of this without them learning something about him.

"Well to answer your questions, my name is (name), my quirk is (quirk) and he's my mate yes and no I'm not a pro"

All might looked annoyed at the omegas presence but chose not to say anything as the students looked at the new person with awe "how did you two meet?" Mina asked starry eyed and before (name) could answer Aizawa shut it down "alright back to class!" He grumbled and led his mate out by the small of his back "they're so lovely" (name) said softly and Aizawa rolled his eyes "get home safe ok?" "I will sho" (name) said softly as they kissed gently, Aizawa watching his mate leave with a warm heart.

#bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #mha x male reader #mha x reader #aizawa x male reader #aizawa x reader #omega male reader #omegaverse

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lil-elle · 6 months

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Hi please i am begging for a funny duo imagine with seeun PLEASE POOKIE PLEASE

HEHEHEH OF COURSE

Height Difference

group: xikers

pair: seeun x gn!reader

genre: fluff, crack

word count: 705

content: (short reader btw), frenemies with way too obvious crushes on each other

a/n: I'm short guys so this makes me giggle and kick my feet like crazy you have no idea

You stared up at Seeun with a glare on your face, his long arm outstretched above him, and what exactly was in his unreachable hand? Your phone.

“What's wrong, shorty? Just grab it.” He smirked down at you, clearly amused. This wasn't uncommon for him, in fact you'd be surprised if you could go a whole day without him using his height advantage against you in some way. Today it was to tease you.

“I swear to God Park Seeun, I'm about to climb you like a jungle gym.” His smirk grew wider, revealing his gums in a way you hated that you found charming.

“Waahh, who taught you to speak like that?” He squinted, leaning down slightly to speak closer to your face.

What you didn't notice at the time was his ears, slightly red at the tips, heat slowly spreading down to the back of his neck. The last thing he'd do, however, is allow you to notice that.

“It's too early for this, you glorified telephone pole.”

He'd allowed his arm to slack slightly, unable to hide that it was getting tired. You saw an opening and jumped, grasping blindly for his hand, to which he quickly stretched his arm out straight again, making it unreachable once again. You sighed dramatically.

“Wow, if looks could kill~” He teased, switching the phone from his right hand to his left, as if he'd caught on to your plan.

You scrunched your face up, racking your brain for a new strategy.

His smirk dropped a little as you took a step back and you could practically see his mind working to figure out what you'd do next. You spun around on your heel, walking away from him and you could hear an amused chuckle come from behind you.

“Given up?” he questioned, slight confusion in his voice that he was attempting to mask with a teasing tone.

Once you'd gotten a good amount away from him, you suddenly turned again before sprinting directly at him. You watched as his face went from confusion to shock, eyes wide and eyebrows high on his forehead. He stepped back a little, but it was too late.

“OH SH-”

You barrelled into him like a steam roller, taking him down like a lumberjack to a tree and landing straddled over him. You plucked your phone from his grasp, looking down at his bewildered face and feeling completely victorious.

“I'll take that, thank you!” You giggled, relishing in your victory. It was only when you opened your eyes and looked back down at him that you noticed the position you were in.

Your thighs were placed on either side of his waist, putting all of your body weight on him. His thick black hair, usually neatly tamed, was dishevelled. Most embarrassing of all, was that you finally noticed the pink tint spreading from his ears to his cheeks as he lay frozen under you. You couldn't help but stutter as you tried to play off the rapid beat of your heart from the lack of proximity between the two of you.

“B-bet you feel…pretty s-silly now, huh?” You chuckled awkwardly as he finally managed to clamp his open mouth shut, his adams apple bobbing nervously.

You heard footsteps approach, your head snapping to the sound instantly to see Junmin and Yujun approaching, Junmin with an exasperated expression and Yujun with a wide and yet somehow mischievous expression.

“THEY'RE GONNA KI-” Junmin quickly clamped his hands over Yujun's mouth, the smile he had still reaching his eyes.

Seeun's face became impossibly more red and you hurriedly stood and put a dramatic amount of distance between you and him. You watched awkwardly as Seeun sat up, his face, neck, and ears still redder than the setting sun, his expression dazed.

Junmin finally removed his hands from Yujun's mouth, rolling his eyes.

“Let's go love birds, we have a photoshoot to get to Seeun, get out of your pyjamas.”

“U-uh yeah…” He stood up, dusting himself off mindlessly and walking around the corner into his room.

You could've sworn you heard muffled screaming come from behind his door, but your mind was much too muddled by the stark memories of what just happened.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

@hyunromi @chocoeon @hyunukitty @minjaezed @ihyeokzu @cake1box

#xikers #xikers fanfic #xikers fluff #xikers imagines #xikers x reader #xikers seeun #seeun #park seeun #seeun x reader #xikers crack

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allocnddits · 11 months

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SWEAT FOR ME e.r.

an: an anon asked for this one, so hope you enjoy it masterlist

wc: 1k

warnings: PinV, female reader, fingering, bj

Edvin had recently joined a gym and scheduled his exercise to match your working hours, meaning that every night when you got home from work you had a little less than an hour alone before he came over.

In that time you usually just watched the news or something on netflix but tonight, as soon as you settled on the living room couch, your phone lit up with a notification

edvinrydings added to their story

You opened it innocently, thinking it would be a picture of sunset or a repost, but it was much better. He had posted a mirror selfie showing off his gym progress. his pale skin was flushed and his hair was covered by a backwards cap. You stared at the story for a little longer than normal before you heard a key at the door.

“It’s open” you warned. He walked in and took off his shoes before bending over the arm of the couch, where you laid your head to give you a quick peck on the lips.

“No, no, no, don’t hug me” he complained when you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’m all sweaty and disgusting. Need a shower first, ‘ll be right back “

You nodded as edvin walked to the bathroom, taking his shirt off on the way. You could’ve waited for him to come out but with the things you had in mind, he’d be sweaty again in no time. So your only option was to join him. You started taking off your clothes, leaving them right on the couch before sprinting completely naked to the bathroom.

Edvin was unbothered by your presence in the room – given the fact you had been living together for a couple of months. You stopped to put your hair up in front of the mirror before stepping into the shower with him.

“Mind if i join you?” you hugged him from behind, hands on his chest and head on him back.

“Never" he turned around to face you, dropping his hands to your waist. "missed you this morning" he kissed your lips, a slow and passionate kiss as you took your hands up to his already wet hair.

"Missed you too" you said before kissing down his neck.

"The place was pretty boring without you. I even took otis out twice. thanks for the coffee by the way, yours is much better than mine" you rolled your eyes at his stupid chatter.

"Edvin"

"Yeah?" he looked down at your annoyed face.

"Shut up, will you?" he nodded, finally letting you concentrate on your work. Kissing back up his neck to his jaw, you left a hickey right under his ear, your hand rubbing up and down on his hardening dick as his roamed around your body.

In a couple minutes you had him against the wall, rock hard in your hand as you sharred what was possibly the hottest and most passionate kiss. His hands had a tight grip on your waist as you sped up your movements. You turned the shower off, preparing to get down on your knees. The tiles were hard and cold, but you couldnt care less, you just wanted to have him, pulsating in your mouth.

"Fuck, baby" he moaned at the sensation of your warm mouth in contrast to the cold water that covered you just seconds ago.

You worked his tip with your tongue, the taste of his precum hiting it as you went down the shaft. One of your hands managed the part that wasn't in your mouth as the other traveled down your body and played with your clit. You looked up at him, but he was already lost in satisfaction, head thrown back as his hands swung loosely on his sides. You took them in yours, guiding them to your wet hair and letting him know what to do. Your left hand met the side of his right thigh as he started to drive himself deeper into your mouth. As soon as you took all of him comfortably in, he pressed your face against he pelvis, your nose hitting his groin as you swallowed a gag down. You gladly took him, breathing through your nose almost calmly untill he decided it was enough.

At that point, you were already penetrating yourself with your fingers, leading to an ocasional moan against Edvin that drove him insane. His hands were all over your hair and your bun had already fallen, making it stick on your wet back. You picked up your pace after the deep throat and took your free back to his base, pumping it in the speed.

"älskling, wanna cum inside you, please" he spoke in broken words as you took him down your throat again. You looked up at him as you stood, getting back on your feet.

"You don't need to say please everytime, honey"

He just kissed you, taking his hands down your ass. You turned your back to him, supporting your weight on the wall as you teased him by swinging your hips side to side. Edvin guided himself to your hole, slowly penetrating till you felt his thighs hit the back of yours. He took his hand down to your clit, massaging it in circles as you waited for him to get used to the feeling of your insides. In a couple pf seconds he started to slowly fuck up into you, picking up his pace as you turned your head back to kiss him.

"Älskling, really don't wanna ruin this but I'm so close, need to cum"

"Let go, honey" you wispered against his neck, soon feeling his release fill you up.

He took a few seconds to get himself together before turning your back againt the wall and penetrating you with his fingers. You threw your head back as he hit all the right spots with the curling of his fingers. As one of your hands held on to your boyfriends shoulder, the other traveled down your own body to meet your clit. Edvin's finger's movements combined with the circling of your own against your clit made you cum in no time.

Edvin took his wet fingers up to his mouth, sucking them clean, tasting you both on his tongue before kissing you, just so you could taste it too.

"Fuck, I should sneak into your shower more often" you smiled

"You should" he kissed your smile way, turning the shower back on "Now let's finish it"

#edvin ryding #edvin ryding imagine #edvin ryding x reader #young royals #a writes

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shortpplfedup · 9 months

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Only Friends Character Rankings Episode 5

It's The Date Episode! And honestly, fucking outstanding. The core six pair off and spend the day lying to themselves and each other. It's mostly cute and sweet but the undercurrent of shit about to hit the fan hangs over the entire episode. It's sort of the calm before the storm. Last week, Boston held onto his top spot in the viewer rankings for the second week in a row, with Ray and Nick rounding out the leaderboard. Can the most miserable bastard in the world do the hattrick? Here's this week's winners and losers.

🔺1. Top (2)

Why don’t you try Lasik? A friend of mine had it, and they said their eyesight is so much better. But now that I think about it…I don’t want you to get it now. I like you better looking like a nerd.

Look, ain't nobody more surprised than me, but this man legit got every goddamn thing he wanted this ep. Top putting on the perfect man act (and I am more convinced than EVER that it's an act) was fascinating to watch. Studiously ignoring all the various signals put out by various other men all day, knowing Mew's eyes are on him. The fucking INSTAGRAM COUPLE PHOTO. And then the knockout blow: when he looked Mew dead in the eye and said 'I love you' I said out loud OH YOU MANIPULATIVE MOTHERFUCKER WELL PLAYED. Do I think Top has bad motives towards Mew, no. I just think he likes the idea of Mew a lot more than he actually likes Mew. And now that Mew's given up that bussy, I'm counting down to Top finding a mistress to give him some variety.

🔺2. Nick (3)

-You’re acting weird. -Weird how? I’m just… I’m just shuffling up my style.

Speaking of getting everything you want, Nick looked like he won the lotto when Boston started talking about settling down. Never mind that Nick is doing ALL of Boston's work for him. Never mind that 3 separate people have now told Nick that Boston ain't shit. Nick is euphoric. Nick has ascended. Nick is doodling 'Mr. Nick Boston's-last-name' in his Trapper Keeper. Nick is going to the gym and dressing more upscale. Nick is giggling when Boston asks to spend the night instead of fucking off as soon as they finish fucking. Nick is headed for a crash so great I'm SALIVATING.

🔺3. Boston (6)

I feel like I should stop sleeping around for a bit. It’s been feeling so empty lately. In the end, I want to have sex with someone I can… talk to for a little, you know? Like, have great sex, have good chats, and…someone I can get affectionate with. Right now…there’s only you.

Told y'all you can't keep a bad bitch down for long and Boston's already bouncing back. He might have had a moment of weakness and tried to be nice for exactly one day, but Nick getting drunk and stoned and running his mouth about how cute Sand and Ray were activated his asshole glands. He smelled happiness and said NOT ONE FUCK OF THAT ON MY WATCH. Boston is that Marie Kondo gif, he fucking LOVES mess no matter how much he goes on about hating drama. He will always poke the hornet's nest. Shutting the fuck up was free, but he just COULDN'T. And thank god, because Ray punching him in the mouth was like 3 of the 5 top things that happened this ep.

🔻4. Ray (1)

-That’s a nice top. Where did you get it? -This thing? It’s secondhand.

Whew Ray's day slummin' it was so classic I shed a tear. I can't really adequately describe his facial expression through the whole day, but 'condescending amusement' is closest. His enjoyment of Sand's company is very real, as are his attraction and hints of affection, but he absolutely does not consider that man his equal, and that's why he doesn't even consider the 'boyfriend' label. No matter what Ray's feeling, Sand's demi-monde, not part of his world. He likes that Sand treats him like he's special, he likes that Sand seems to always want him around, he likes that Sand will take care of him, but he'll never take Sand seriously. This would be true even if he wasn't in love with Mew, but being in love with Mew makes it all worse. Pathetic, I love it.

🔹5. Sand (5)

I work. I save up money. I sleep. I dream. I go to bed alone, wake up, and go to work. Until…he came along. It’s like somebody presses pause on all my 24 hours. Next thing I know…I’m living my 25th hour. Ray’s extra hour.

Oh SAND. I've been saying from jump this is hurting most because SAND KNOWS BETTER. When Sand called Ray his 25th hour I wanted to SCREAM because BABY BOY YOU KNOW BETTER. This dude is either drunk or hungover all of those same 24 hours you are grinding out a living, but you wanna spend your birthday with him because he makes you feel sparkly. He stays sneering at how you ain't got no money and work 17 jobs, but because he does it with a twinkle in his eyes you're blind and deaf all of a sudden. He told you HIS MOTHER DRANK HERSELF TO DEATH and you pour him another drink. I ain't feeling sorry for Sand anymore, he did this to himself.

🔻6. Mew (4)

-Does this mean I passed your test? -Yeah. You’ve convinced me that you really only have eyes for me.

Mew really tried to play a player and ended up playing himself instead. Like, in one way he's won: Top's his boyfriend, and honestly very likely to stay that way. But Mew should have been careful what he wished for because 'boyfriend' and 'faithful lover' are two very different things.

⭐7. Sand's mom

You keep nagging at me, you know that? Who between us is the mother, exactly?

WE AIN'T MET THIS LADY FOR NOTHING! My Sand/Top half brothers theory LIVES!

⭐8. Summer

Sorry to chat you up, but I’m alone, after all.

Poor girl's a hottie but didn't stand a chance.

#only friends the series #bless this mess #only friends weekly character rankings #i support gay wrongs #only friends #only friends series #bl meta series

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sebstan2020 · 4 months

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Repaying the Debt

Chapter 6

Violet Williams, a typical rich daddy's girl who did nothing but spend his money and hang our with her girlfriends. Her life couldn't be better. But that all changes when her father gets in trouble with New Yorks biggest and most ruthless mob boss, James Barnes and she finds herself repaying the debt of her father.

Violet gasped as she stared up at James underneath her golden bangs, heroes blinking in both horror and fear. Was he being serious, or was he just saying that to scare her, to throw the fear into her to make her behave? Surely he wasn’t. But his tone sounded so serious that she shuddered, and his dark eyes gazing at her intensely made the notion even more believable. But was this her doing? She had only meant it as a joke—to rile him up, annoy him, and get on her nerves—to frustrate him so that he would just throw her back into that small prison room and leave her be. But her thought process for that was clearly wrong, and she wished she hadn’t said anything. She wished she had kept her big mouth shut. She had quite clearly given him even more of a reason to spank her, to punish her, and to teach her a lesson. It had slipped from her mouth, and James was going to take that opportunity.

He was quick with his movements, yanking her from the floor by the scruff of her neck with a ball of frazzled hair, wrapped around his long, slender fingers, and forcing her over to the large couch placed to the side of his office. It was smooth leather, dark, and rich, with gold legs. She managed to get a good look at him, dressed in a suit of all black, finely tailored to his body and size, tightly fitting, and of expensive taste. His rich cologne flooded her senses, almost drugging her, and a few strands of his dark locks had fallen in front of his forehead, adding that little extra spice to him. She screamed as he overpowered her so easily, barely even having to lift his arm to drag her across, forcing her into the desired position for her punishment. He seated himself down on the couch, legs spread, to place her between them. her chest laying flat across his thigh, with her legs dangling underneath. She scrambled for freedom, clawing at his leg, the carpet, and the couch, but she was weak, like a feather. Her life of shopping and manicures was no use for her now. She should have spent more time at the gym bulking up in case handsome mafia men kidnapped her for a debt owed.

She was in the perfect position for James. completely exposed, her ass slightly turned up to give him a full view of it, a hand gripping the clump of hair to keep her still. His power loomed over her; his simple position sat on the couch while she was kneeling before him, able to grab and restrain her at anytime while she wiggled and squirmed with no ounce of release.

Violet was unaccustomed to disciplining. She had gone her whole life doing whatever she wanted without a care, without someone to give her any direction or guidance. Growing up, she had always been a good girl until she reached her teens, where she acquired a taste for fashion, beauty, and money. Her bratty attidude was born at the age of fifteen, sassing at her father for suggesting that she do her homework instead of talk to her friends all night long. Over the years, her father had given up with her, trying to enforce some structure and rules around the house but realising nothing would work on her. It was best to let the monster live rather than fight it every day. never had he gotten physical with her or even touched the idea of punishments.

But James was not her father. He was not going to tolerate this kind of behaviour. He was not going to allow her to behave this way without learning from her actions and facing the consequences. She was in dire need of some discipline, and he was more than happy to administer it. It had only been two days, and she was already trying to escape, disobeying his warning that if she did, he would punish her. Bad girls need to be punished, and he was already enjoying the sight of her draped over his thigh.

She squirmed with heavy breaths until she realised that his grip was too strong and she wasn't going anywhere. For a while, James just sat and watched her, tugging her ever so slightly back into position without a word until she huffed and calmed down. His smirk grew evil, and his voice spoke softly.

"Good girl," he murmured, and Violet swallowed, her eyes wide with curiosity. Suddenly, his large hand pushed itself inside the grey joggers, sliding them down her smooth, buttery skin. The touch of his hand set off electric shocks, and she squirmed even more as she felt exposed and vulnerable, her ass completely on show except for her thong panties that she was still wearing from a couple days ago, a reminder of the night she was taken.

This was truly happening. She had hoped he was just going to scare her with the thought, threaten her that if she didn't do as she was told, the next time he really would punish her, and then send her back off to her room. but she was wrong again. In a split second, her thong was yanked down, and she truly was exposed, the cold air hitting her sensitive mound and her thighs pressing together as if to conceal herself somehow, but nothing could be hidden from him.

A firm tug on her hair kept her in place, and she yelped a little, swallowing a lump of saliva at the back of her throat as she felt his fingers trail up her leg across her smooth ass, laying there for what felt like minutes.

"Now you're going to tell me why I'm punishing you," he said smoothly, his voice low and dominant and serious, and Violet scoffed under her breath, trying to hide her face from her cheeks heating up. Was he still being serious? He was treating her like a child.

"Fuck you," she whispered, trying to keep her voice quiet so he wouldn't hear her, but the sharp tug on her hair yanked her head up in full view, her mouth opening wide with a wince indicating otherwise.

"I suggest you answer me, or this is going to be worse for you," he scolded, and she took a deep breath. She hadn't realised she was gripping onto her leg for support, and when he didn't drop her head from his craned position, she gave into his demand.

"Because I tried to run away," she squeaked, and James softly chuckled, the vibrations in his throat sounding close to her ear.

"That's right, you disobeyed me trying to escape like that, and now you need to be punished. Bad girls are punished and good girls are rewarded, and right now you need some serious discipline." His voice was husky and intimidating, and Violet was clinging to his every word.

"I'm going to spank you, and after each one, I want you to say thank you, sir," he ordered, and Violet snorted, shaking her head. She wasn't going to be defeated in this and subjected to this submissive behaviour.

"Yeah righ-Ahhh!" His hand came down in a loud smack, flesh on flesh, a burning sensation tingling straight away as his hand made contact with her bare ass, fingers gripping into the skin, and Violet jolted from the impact. The cold of the ring on his thumb dug into her flesh and left a distinctive mark. It was harsh and painful, like nothing she had ever felt before in her life. Her eyes immediately began to water, and she fought with every ounce of strength left in her body. but she should have learned from the first time James was too strong and had the upper hand here. With a swift motion, his foot pressed on her flattening hands on the carpet, a perfect polished dress shoe pressing into them to keep them still and out of his way. How he managed to so easily get her in this position, she didn't know, but she was stuck now. The thick soles dug into the backs of her hands, crushing every finger and bone.

Another smack came, and she winced, trying to lean forward away from his dangerous palm, and another tug on her hair meant he was waiting for something.

"I'm waiitng Violet," he warned, and she huffed. There was no way out of this except through it. With a quiet, grumpy voice, she said the words he was aching to hear.

"Thank you, sir." Another smack came immediately as her words were spoken and his lips pressed to her ear.

"I can't hear you," he teased. another smack, and Violet groaned, gritting her teeth together.

"Thank you, sir.".

James smirked, raising his hand and smacking it back down on her now-red ass. It didn't take long for it to heat up, with her skin warm and tender and the flesh turning bright red. It was tingling as if she had been burned with a hot pan, her flesh sensitive and fragile. After every spank, she spoke the words he wanted to hear, humiliation settling in early on in her punishment.

James was enjoying it too much, his cock turning hard beneath the tightness of his pants and his body heating up under his suit. The pain in her hands was nowhere near the same as her swollen ass, and the spanks just kept coming. She eventually settled into his leg, allowing her discipline to be administered thoroughly and consistently. There was a lone tear in the corner of her eye, and she sniffled it away, wincing as the last few spanks were the most painful. Her ass felt like it had been set on fire, the feeling almost turning numb to the point where even a gentle touch was too harsh for her.

She thought it was over when Unitl James proceeded to end with a nonstop string of spanks, one after another, as he scolded her further.

"So when I tell you, Violet, that you're not to escape and that if you do, I will punish you again, even more than this, are you going to do as you told me?" He asked, staring down at her, and she whimpered, pulling at his grip for release.

"Yes," she cried out, but he wasn't satisfied, and he kept on spanking her.

"Yes, what?" he gritted.

"Yes, sir," she assumed, was the phrase he wanted to hear, and she was finally right about something. He grinned heavily, fighting the urge to slip his hand further down. He'd love to feel her sensitive mound, dip his fingers into her slick pussy, and tease her some more, but this was a punishment, not a reward.

"Are you going to be a good girl and obey me?" He raised a brow, tilting his head slightly even though she couldn't see him, but she nodded her head fast. In the time it took him to get her into position and administer the spanking, she was like putty in his hands. Her fighting spirit had run off and left behind a submissive brat in need of discipline and order. She was broken, and he was pleased.

Violet had never thought she'd let a man break her down like this and succumb her to this whimpering, obedient girl, letting him take order and control over her. She was a strong woman in her day-to-day life, always getting what she wanted. but in minutes she was forced down and made to surrender, and James found every second of it thrilling and arousing.

"Good girl" He placed his hand on her ass, his now gentle touch giving her ass a sting even as he barely touched her. He stayed still for a moment, watching as she caught her breath, brought herself back to reality as she clawed her way out of subspace, and wiggled under him. He finally released the pressure of his foot from her hands, bringing back the blood and feeling to her fingers. She flexed them, although the pain was worse when she did that, and James shuffled to pull up her pants and joggers, covering up her disciplined ass.

With a tug, he yanked her head back, forcing her to arch her back as she stared into his dark oceaon eyes, a gasp escaping with a stutter as she looked up.

"Now let's get you back where you belong.".

Chapter 7

Hey I hope you like this chapter, let me know what you think in the comments

@charmed-asylum

@pattiemac1

@thischubbydumpling

@blackwood-bodecker-housewife

@mrs-bucky-barnes-73

@kandis-mom

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#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes fanficiton #bucky barnes smut #mob boss bucky barnes #dom bucky barnes #mafia

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bellysoupset · 2 months

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For the 🏳️ anon, who asked for Airsick Bella.... Here we go, with LOADS of fluff and sexy talk.

-------------

"Have you seen my bikinis?" Bella asked, rummaging through her messy side of their wardrobe. Luke was sprawled on the bed watching the replay of last Sunday’s football game, having already finished packing, since his side was neatly folded and he could get a bag done in under 30 minutes.

"You really don't need those," he smirked and Bella rolled her eyes, crouching down to open a drawer.

"Oh yeah, you're gonna be real happy when I'm flashing strangers- Aha!" She held up a bunch of bikinis strung together and didn't bother untangling them, throwing the items on her side of their suitcase, "now I need a hat."

Lucas smiled fondly at her, Bella wasn't even bothering to hide just how excited she was with them finally leaving for a honeymoon. After nearly ten months since they had gotten married, Luke had been over the moon to slip her the tickets, three weeks before.

She had even requested time off work, something Bella never did, normally insisting she could work from anywhere. Luke had seen her work from the hospital waiting room far too many times to count.

Their flight was Friday morning and it was only Wednesday night, but Lucas had everything ready already, from his suitcase, to their documentation, to their travel guide, hotel... Everything he could think of, he had managed and micromanaged, except for Bell.

Just glancing at her messy process of packing made his skin crawl, so he opted for not saying anything and waited until she finally zipped it up, taking far more shoes than he even thought possible for her to wear.

"You know we're going to a tropical island, right?" Lucas grabbed Bella's waist when she circled the bed in order to grab her jewelry, "I don't think you're gonna get any use out of the combat boots."

"You never know, it rains a lot in tropical places," Bella shrugged, falling against him on the bed, but keeping to the task at hand, sorting through the bunch of silver rings she had, "I'm taking it."

"Okay," Luke rolled his eyes, closing her jewelry box, "I want attention-"

"You're gonna have tons of attention, once we're there," Bella scoffed, squirming when he rolled them on the bed and pinned her down, "skull or snakes?" she raised the rings in front of him.

"Skulls, they're cuter," Luke pushed her hand away from his face, busying himself with kissing her neck, "so we’re taking a chastity vow until we land in Malé?"

Bella snorted at that, picking her earrings, moving her head slightly so he could continue to kiss her, "chastity is a strong word, I've always wanted to be a part of the mile high club."

Lucas laughed, pressing his mouth to her collarbone, "oh yeah, so we can get barred at the customs," he nibbled on her earlobe, "my wife the genius."

"Tonto," Bella scoffed, finally putting away all the items and planting a hand in the middle of his face, pushing him off of her, “help me pack, Luke.”

By the time Friday finally rolled on, Luke was feeling nearly sick with nerves. They had driven to Portland the night before, in order to avoid the maximum amount of fatigue possible, given the trip ahead of them was stupidly long. Their flight went to Philadelphia, where they caught a 10 hours long flight to London, stayed over the night and then in the morning caught another flight, this one 20 hours long, to the Maldives.

Luke had genuinely considered talking with Kit about the private jet, but just the off hand mention of his father’s name had Bella shutting down in a way he didn’t like. It didn’t used to be like that before Christmas and he wasn’t entirely sure what had changed since Bell promptly shut down any attempt of bringing up the topic.

Besides, as Jonah had pointed out to him while they chatted in gym, the private jet would need to do all the stops for fuel too, it’d only cut about five hours of their schedule.

“What’s in your mind?” Bell asked, as they strapped in for the first, shorter flight. Only two hours for Philly.

“Control freak bs,” Luke scoffed, leaning in to plant a kiss on her cheek, “my brain won’t stop.”

“I thought therapy was helping,” she teased him, turning her face for a proper kiss, “nothing is going to go wrong, it’s just plane trips. Very long, very tiring, but just plane trips.”

“Uhum,” Luke leaned in to plant his lips on her temple.

Since they’d be bored out of their minds, Bella had brought an old ipad, filled with movies. Luke leaned back his chair, frowning as he recognized the opening shot of the movie.

“Jaws? We’re going to a tropical island and you want to watch Jaws?”

“I like to be prepared,” Bella grinned, snuggling against his shoulder, “you did say we could swim in the ocean and that there’s a shark dive.”

“And you want to watch Jaws before swimming with the sharks?” He raised his eyebrows, clicking on the screen and then going back to the list of movies, “you only brought deadly animals movies… Tsunami movie… Isabella, what the fuck!”

Bell slapped his hand away, putting the movie back on, “it's good for you, builds character.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it does,” he said sourly, focusing on the movie.

The connection to the London flight was uneventful, Luke spending it updating their friends about their current location and taking his own paparazzi pictures of Bell, as she sprawled on the first class lounge, not a thought given to the dirty looks thrown her way.

He loved her.

“This is bigger than our house,” Bella snorted as they got in the plane and to their seats. For this flight Luke had splurged with first class tickets instead of regular ones and a private suite, since it was 10 hours long. Bell dropped her carry on in the large space between their seats, which were large like single beds, “really. Honest to God, bigger than my childhood room.”

Lucas knew for a fact this was pretty much true. He rolled his eyes, kissing the top of her head, “and private too, didn’t you want to be a part of the mile high club?”

“Now where’s the fun if it’s all private?” Bella teased him, falling sit and letting out a sigh, “I bet they have cameras everywhere here… Oh man, champagne? I feel like a princess.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her antics, sitting down as well and indulging Bell as she sat criss crossed next to him and continued to talk non stop.

Three hours into the trip and at least three glasses of champagne each, the instructions of “stay in your seats” were out of the window. Bella had climbed on his lap and she had her arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him and letting out a happy sigh as Luke squeezed her ass over the jeans, when suddenly the plane lurched.

It was so sudden that Bella bit on his lip with force enough to draw blood and Luke pulled back with a shout.

“Bell!”

“Oh my God-” Bella whined, grabbing his shoulders, big blue eyes wide in her face, “what the fuck was that!?”

“Just a drop, Bella,” Luke glared at her, wiping the blood with his thumb, “it’s fine, relax…”

“Don’t tell me to relax,” she scoffed, but leaned in to kiss him again, bumping her nose with his, “sorry about your lip…”

“Uhm, kiss it better?” Lucas grinned, leaning further into his seat and planting a hand on her nape, pulling her in. He felt her smile against his lips and Luke was starting to feel suffocatingly warm, face tingling with how horny he was, when the plane lurched once more, this time around continuing to shake violently.

Bella let out a sound he wasn’t sure he had ever heard her do before, a whimper-cry, and hid her face on his neck, “Luke!”

“It’s okay, baby, it’s just turbulence…” He hugged her close and Bella squeezed him with all her force as the plane shook again.

“We’re getting nerfed down from the sky because of these stupid, expensive, gigantic cabins,” Bella whined, getting out of his lap and putting the seat belt on, a couple seconds before the red sign popped on the opposite wall.

The plane lowered once more, before going up, and even with the private cabin, they could hear the other passengers squeal. Bella’s face had gone from healthy tan to olive white and she was clutching the arm rests of her seat.

“I don’t wanna die on my honeymoon,” she whimpered, closing her eyes, “Luke-”

“It’s just turbulence,” Lucas planted his hand over hers, “I promise you we’ll not fall from the sky, this is fine…”

“It doesn’t feel fine!” Bella squealed as the plane kept shaking. She moved their hands, so she could squeeze his fingers and Luke cringed, Bell had quite the strong grip.

He leaned in, completely ignoring the shaking and going up and down that was causing his stomach to freeze, “talk with me, baby.”

“I- I can’t, we’re going to di-die…” Her voice shook under the weight of tears and Lucas scoffed, planting a kiss on her temple and squeezing Bella to him with his free hand. Over their heads, the lights went out.

“No, we’re not. Have I ever told you about our flight to Hong Kong when I was fifteen?” he leaned in and Bell shook her head, staying quiet to indicate she was listening, but still not opening her eyes.

“Dad was touring there and it was my birthday, so mom packed us both to Hong Kong,” Luke smoothed over the important stuff, leaving out the details. He hadn’t wanted to go to Hong Kong and his mom was actually going there for a business trip, not for his birthday. In fact, he wasn’t sure they had remembered it was his birthday until two days had passed, “and the flight was terrible, let me tell you. But we landed without any trouble, it was just clouds-” without any trouble because his mom had been knocked the fuck out by the wine, “we all got there in one piece. We’re gonna get to London perfectly safe too.”

“And- and your birthday?” Bella asked in a small voice. Luke wiped the tears off her face.

“I got to watch dad play, it was great,” he lied smoothly. He had spent it in the hotel room just outside the stadium his father was playing, puking his guts up after such a horrid flight, while his mother bossed her entire staff around.

Bella nodded, letting out a shuddery breath and the plane eased up the shaking. She sat up straight, leaning back on her seat and wiped at her face, while the overhead lights turned back on.

Lucas smiled at her, “see?”

“I’m gonna puke,” Bella groaned, ignoring his soft smile and Luke snorted, before realizing her lips had gone a terrible shade of white.

“Oh, you’re serious?”

“Yeah-” Bella cupped her mouth, “Lu-”

Luke scrambled to find an airsickness bag, but in first class these were hidden somewhere – it was not pleasing to imply rich people puked – so he settled for the champagne bucket, removing the bottle and holding it under Bell’s chin just in time to catch the first mouthful of sickly champagne vomit.

She hugged the bucket like a pro, so Lucas abandoned it, in order to hold her hair back with a hand, planting the other one on her forehead to help her support it. Bella let out a loud moan, echoing in the metal bucket, and he kissed the top of her head.

“You’re fine, it’s a lot of ups and downs…”

Bella sighed, pulling back and resting her forehead to the rim of the bucket, while Luke waited a second to pull back, “you good?”

“Think so…” she rasped, so he got her a water bottle from the huge dispenser under their seats. She took it with shaky hands, sniffling once more and took a small gulp, as Luke ignored the sign to stay with their seat belts and got up, to reach for his own carry on.

“Wendy told me to bring these-” he went through the contents in order to find the sea wristbands and Bella frowned, seeming exhausted as she turned to look at him… Only for the plane to drop once more.

“Fuck,” Bell groaned, lurching for the bucket, while Luke fell flat on his back on the ground, his backpack hitting his chest. He hugged it tightly, waiting until the plane stopped shaking in order to get back to his seat, and once he did he realized Bella was fully crying.

“Stay-” she let out a little burp, forcing up a pathetic gush of liquid, “in your fucking seat, Lucas.”

“Sorry,” he rubbed her back, “sorry. You don’t have to worry, I’m fine.”

Bella raised her head from the bucket in order to send him a bleary glare, her blue eyes even more blue due to the tears and the fact they were red rimmed, “I fucking hate flying,” she declared, turning back to the bucket once more and Luke cringed in sympathy.

“I know, I know, next time we travel we’ll go somewhere closer,” he promised, pushing the curls away from her mouth and rubbing back.

#mywriting #isabella martinez #isabella martinez-atwood #airsickness #sickfic #emeto #motion sickness #🏳️ anon

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shina913 · 1 year

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On Tilt, Part 3 | KNJ

On Tilt, Part 3

Definition: a poker term for a state of mental or emotional confusion or frustration in which a player adopts a suboptimal strategy, usually resulting in the player becoming overly aggressive.

On Tilt Masterlist

Pairing: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞

Genre: idol!AU; strangers-to-FWB-to-lovers; toxic relationship; angst; fluff; smut

Warnings: unhealthy/toxic relationship dynamic; cussing; vulnerable confessions; alcohol consumption; explicit and suggestive sexual conversations; jealous!Namjoon; Namjoon at the gym; ttam-Joon 😅; ass-slapping (not in a sexual context); drop of fluff; unexpected boners (I think that's it?)

Summary: You’ve said time and time again that you wouldn’t lose yourself to him. You were in control now. You were going to make better choices. For a minute there, you were able to keep up with it. It wasn’t ‘til Namjoon’s extended break that you found yourself falling into old habits. Will you ever learn to quit Kim Namjoon?

Word count: 4.6K words

A/N: This was supposed to be short...and then that All Day Part 2 vlog happened and now it's 4.4K 🤡 Also, pay no attention to OC's workout gear...I just thought it looked hot but I have some doubts about the support here. Buuuuut for interest, I thought it would be a good add-on and I love Rihanna's other stuff from her line, otherwise 😂 Anyway! Please enjoy and know that my inbox and DMs are open. Would love to know what you think 😘

“God damn…are you planning to kill him with that outfit or what?”

You guffaw at Lani’s question, nearly messing up the wing on your eyeliner. Namjoon hasn’t given you a hint as to where you were headed tonight but he asked you to dress ‘nice’. You picked a black, ruched, long-sleeved body-con mini dress with a deep-plunge neckline.

“Calm down. It’s just dinner,” you say while finishing your makeup.

“Ooohh…and you’re on the menu. Got it,” She teased, motioning to your partially exposed cleavage.

You turn and throw a balled up tissue at her in jest. “I most definitely am not!” You turn back to your mirror. “Besides, I told him that we’re having none of that until…we establish some ground rules. If he wants to be with me, I want to see a bit more effort on his part,” you reason.

“Are you putting the kitty on lockdown or what?”

You snort at her comment but your expression turns sober almost immediately after. “I just want to know whether this can work without sex being on the table the entire time.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, Lani starts cackling.

You squeeze your eyes shut and wrinkle your nose. “Damn, that came out wrong.”

After recovering you clarify, “Anyway! What I was actually trying to say was that…I want to see if there’s more to this.”

Lani paused and turned serious in a matter of seconds. “Well, you started off as good friends, right? That’s promising.”

You twisted your lips wryly. “Yeeeaah, until we fell into bed. Add him being this superstar idol and it gets more complicated. I just want to know if there’s something else that would hold us together. And if there isn’t…then I’m completely wrong and maybe I’ll wake up and realize that I was being delusional this whole time,” you finish quietly.

Lani comes up from behind to wrap you in her arms. You leaned into her hold, giving her forearm an appreciative squeeze. She was one of your oldest, most trustworthy friends. “I understand,” she says softly, recalling your conversation when you confessed how you really felt about Namjoon.

“Do what you need to, but remember to be good to yourself, too,” she reminds you.

You cocked your neck sideways at her, face wrinkled in confusion. “What are you talking about? I am good to myself,” you chuckled.

She released you from her hold and sidled next to you. “I meant, if things don’t go as you hoped they would, you shouldn’t blame yourself.” With that, Lani gives you a quick peck on the cheek then leaves your room.

Though her parting words sounded ominous, you couldn’t deny that you were banking on the thought that this would all work out in your favor. You loved Namjoon and wanted to be with him…but it wasn’t that simple. Namjoon hasn’t shown any signs of slowing down in his career at all. There may be a group hiatus but solo efforts were underway.

If work would start to ramp up for him, where would that leave you?

******

Namjoon’s face reflects on your wine glass while you watch the crimson liquid swirl around it. He’d been on the phone for the last ten minutes.

The evening started off promising. Lani was right–you practically had to fight him to keep his hands off you until you reminded him of your agreement. Five dates. And depending how those dates go, maybe you’d consider getting into bed with him again.

It was going to be a challenge, though. Just as you’d throw down the gauntlet, he was happy to pick it up. He showed up looking just as mouthwatering–dressed in a simple black suit with a crisp, dress shirt, top two buttons undone. Although his brushed-back hair made you feral, you had to stick to your guns.

He cleared out the entire back room of a restaurant, all wait staff signing NDAs.

His phone kept buzzing through the first course, which he mostly ignored. Once they brought in the main course, he couldn’t mute the incessant ringing any longer. He apologized to you before answering it.

He glanced at you nervously while you silently munched through your side order of fries and distractedly scrolled through your phone.

“Jon, Jon, listen bro…can we just work this out tomorrow when I stop by the studio?...Yeah…I know but it can wait. We’ll take care of it first thing, the second I get there. Alright…Yeah, thanks. See you then. Bye.” He hung up then sighed. “Sorry,” he says to you immediately.

You peered up from your phone’s screen and gave him a small smile. “That’s alright. Work is work,” is all you say.

He shook his head, reached for your hand across the table and held it. “No, I should have just sent it to voicemail. I told my assistant to field all of my calls because I wanted our night to be free of interruptions.”

You wanted to say something snarky but you held back. At least he didn’t cancel on you and he really tried to ignore his phone since you arrived. Acknowledging his effort, you relax your tense posture. “It’s fine. You’ve got a lot going on with the album and stuff. Besides, I never asked you to stop working on my account.”

“I know that,” he says quietly. “I just wanted this date to be perfect for you.”

You smiled softly at his sincerity. You then leaned in and reached up to brush some errant strands that fell over his eye. “Joon, if I wanted ‘perfect’, I wouldn’t be doing this with you.”

His breath caught for a moment before his mouth curved into a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He leaned in to plant a kiss on your lips.

It started off as a soft, melding of your mouths, which quickly turned into hunger. He cupped your face while you curled your hand around his nape to pull him closer. It was almost second nature.

He kissed you deeply, tonguing your mouth in that same leisurely, spine-tingling manner he did when he was between your legs. You once thought he could make you orgasm with his kiss–if you stayed at it long enough. Everything about him turned you on–from the way he looked and felt beneath in your hands to the way he would watch and touch you. He was always greedy for you and you were the same way towards him.

But you abruptly wrench yourself away, leaving him bereft. He tries to pull you back in but you pressed your hand to his chest to stop him.

“As much as I want to,” you chuckled. “I don’t think we should.”

Nodding gently, he backs away. “Are you sure that 5-date rule is non-negotiable?”

You threw your head back in laughter. “You proposed the 5-date rule–not me!”

His mouth falls open at your accusation. “Only because you initially wanted 10,” he nearly shrieks. “It was a compromise!”

Your stomach contracted amidst your giggles. “That’s right…laugh at my pain,” Namjoon says sarcastically.

On your last conversation, you agreed to go out on 10 dates before having sex with him again. He reluctantly suggested a mid-point. Ever since you both started messing around, every interaction with him always ended up with your bodies tangled up in bed.

This was going to be a difficult challenge–not just for him but for you, as well. You loved touching him as much as he loved his hands all over you. Physical contact between you was virtually essential whenever you met. But since you’d asked him for more, you also needed to find out if there was something else to this relationship other than the physical and sexual aspect of it.

“I’m sorry, Joon,” you apologize after finally catching your breath. “But I just think that we really need to try and spend quality time together…without actively fucking,” you reiterate.

He sighed then raked his fingers through his hair. “I know, I know. I’ll try to keep things under control,” he huffed under his breath before taking a long slug of his whisky.

“Thank you,” you say with a sympathetic tone before smiling at him.

The rest of dinner goes smoothly. Unlike what you had initially feared, conversation between you flowed freely and naturally–even when sex was out of the equation. Neither of you missed a beat, laughing and joking about anecdotes about your friends and work.

The evening may have hit a hurdle but you both got over it quickly. It made this effort all the more promising for you.

******

“Can I see you again tomorrow?” He asks when his car pulls up to your building.

“While I would love to say ‘yes,’ I have to finish up some things at the office…which will probably go into the night since the end of the year is right around the corner,” you say with regret.

You then stretch the kinks in your neck. “Plus, I really need to get a workout in. I’ve been putting it off too long.”

“What time do you need to head to the office?”

“My team expects me to be there by 11.”

His eyebrows twitched as the gears in his head started to spin. “Can I propose something to you?”

You purse your lips hesitantly.

“Now, hear me out,” he gently offers. You stared at him for a few beats then eventually acquiesce.

“What if you come by my place? We can work out together in the morning at the gym in my building. I can get breakfast delivered, it will be completely chill. Two hours, tops! You can bring a change of clothes and shower back at my place. Then we can head out together.”

You were already apprehensive about being photographed at his place but showering there? Being in a state of undress while either of you are in the same space? Your 5-date rule would go up in flames in a heartbeat.

He assures you that he would behave himself–even suggesting that you lock the door so he wouldn’t attempt to join you.

“Still though, wouldn’t that be…risky?” The dorms were more private when you used to meet and hook up there back then. You’d only been to his new place three times. The second time you were there, a photographer was hiding in the bushes. The record company had to buy their photos in order for them not to be posted onto tabloids.

The last time you were there was before Namjoon and his bandmates left for their most recent tour that just wrapped up. At that point, you’d agreed not to meet there again whenever he was back in town for breaks.

“Security is much better now,” Namjoon explains. “The loading dock out back was redone and it’s more private than it was before. It’s incredibly difficult to get a photo or footage of whoever is coming in and out of the building unless they hang from the street lamp or tree.”

“Don’t underestimate the will of a very eager photographer,” you say sardonically.

He shook his head. “I promise, it’s secure.”

“What about my car?”

“I can have a driver pick you up from here and bring you to my place. They can drop you off at your office, too.”

He seems to have an answer for all of your concerns, but you didn’t want to hog his driver’s time if he needed him. “Joon, I don’t–”

“It’s fine, really. When you’re done with your work, the driver will be at your disposal. I figured you’d be too tired to drive from downtown and back here.”

He had a point there. There were times when you wished your car would just drive itself especially on long days. “What about you? How will you get to work and back?”

“I’ll ride my bike,” he says simply. “So…what do you say?”

You roll your eyes. “Two hours and no longer than that, okay?”

He nodded emphatically. “I swear!”

You agreed and mouthed your thanks. Before stepping out of the car, you share a chaste kiss–a far cry from the tonsil hockey incident earlier this evening. You step out of the car and watch the black SUV pull away from the curb.

When you enter your apartment, your phone buzzes with a text. A smile crept on your face after reading it.

[Namjoon] 10:40PM: Car will pick you up at 8AM. One down, four to go! Sleep tight, beautiful. 😘

******

The company car was right on time the next morning. And just as he promised, the loading dock was practically fully enclosed. You felt more at ease after seeing it for yourself.

You entered the security code that Namjoon sent to you which activated the elevator’s keypad so you could push the button to ascend to his floor. That was another upgrade from the last time that you were here.

Shortly after you push his buzzer, you hear his front door click open. He comes down to the hallway, already dressed in workout clothes to greet you with a quick kiss.

“Did you find everything okay?”

“Yeah. You weren’t exaggerating about the new security measures,” you say after he pushes the door shut.

“We have a lot of high-profile residents so–the property managers stepped it up. It was a good move on their part. Besides, with the rent that we pay every month? Shit…should be worth the upgrades.”

“Are you ready to go?” You ask, clutching your water bottle and gym bag.

“Yeah–I just need to put my shoes on then we can head to the 5th floor, where the gym is.” He adds that you can leave your bag that contains your change of clothes and that his assistant would come by with breakfast all set up while you went about your workout.

******

Since you hadn’t been to the gym in a while, you weren’t planning on a high-intensity workout. You mainly wanted to be able to stretch out your muscles while getting a good sweat session in. Admittedly, part of that stemmed from frustration brought on by this temporary celibate period but you had to stay focused if you wanted things to work with him.

“What…the…hell…are you wearing?” He nearly punctuates every word in a low, husky tone.

You hadn’t noticed him standing right behind you after you hung your oversized zip-up hoodie on one of the hooks conveniently placed by the treadmill.

“Gym clothes?” You answer as if the issue wasn’t obvious to you.

He took another look at your sports bra. “There’s no way! That is a poor excuse for a top. You look naked!”

You laughed, not understanding what the big deal was. The top showed off a little more cleavage but it was the keyhole cutouts that sat strategically over the swell of your breasts and the criss-cross straps in the back that had him agitated. “You’re overreacting,” you say dismissively.

“And these pants? What the–”

You groan and roll your eyes. The matching high-waisted leggings had strategic stitching that hugged your curves in all the right places.

Ignoring him, you step onto the treadmill, your feet resting on the sides of the machine while you key in your settings on the screen. “Let’s just warm up, okay?” You say before sticking your wireless earbuds in and blasting your workout playlist. You set your phone into a secure slot then step onto the treadmill, starting with a brisk walk.

He poked his tongue against his cheek in annoyance. Scowling, he punches his settings into the machine next to you. Seconds later, he pulls his shirt off and tosses it haphazardly on the bench behind him before stepping onto the treadmill.

The view of his bare chest distracts you causing you to nearly miss a step, but you hold onto the railing and quickly recover. He gave a victorious smirk and began to increase his speed setting. You mirror him after hitting your stride and break into a jog as well.

Guess you weren’t the only one working out certain frustrations.

After twenty minutes you slowed to a stop, finally risking a glance at Namjoon, who was still running fluidly. He was watching the news on the mounted screen, but flashed a smile while you wiped the sweat off your face. Feeling parched, you took a swig from your water bottle and moved to the other machines, picking one that gave you a clear view of him.

Ten minutes later, he moved to the chest fly machine, making sure to keep you in his line of sight. You’d occasionally brush against each other when switching positions within the facility. You watched him work out quickly and efficiently. Thank goodness you had the gym all to yourselves this morning because you just kept ogling at him. He looked so…primal and it didn’t help that you also knew exactly what was underneath those shorts.

Shaking your thoughts away, you moved to pick up a yoga ball to do some crunches before you end your workout.

When you finish, you sit up and idly rock your hips while sitting on the yoga ball to cool down. Distantly, you hear the doors open while your playlist switches tracks.

The newcomer smiled as he approached. You see him linger a bit even after you acknowledge him so you pause your music and pull out one of your earbuds.

“Hi,” he greeted you, with a winning smile that showcased perfect white teeth. “Never seen you around here. Did you just move in?”

“No,” you reply. “I’m just visiting.”

He gives a small nod. “I’m Seokmin, by the way.” He extended his hand, and you shook it after giving your name.

Upon hearing his name, you knew he was familiar except you were a bit behind on your celebrity gossip so you couldn’t quite place him at the moment.

“So,” he began, “Are you here with company?”

“Uhm…” You scanned the room and Namjoon was nowhere to be found. You assumed he might have gone to use the gym bathrooms.

Without missing a beat, Seokmin continues to chat you up. “You know, they recently opened up a smoothie bar down at the lobby in case you wanted to check that out. There’s a separate code for that but I can give you mine, if you want?” He winked.

Just then, Namjoon appeared by Seokmin’s shoulder. “That won’t be necessary,” he said, coming around and behind you to slide his arms around your waist possessively. “I’ve already given my girlfriend permission to have full access to the amenities here.”

The word girlfriend reverberated in your ears. Though you were still working to establish your relationship, it still didn’t stop you from thinking that the distinction had a nice ring to it.

“H-hey, Namjoon,” Seokmin straightened and took a step back, then bowed. “I’m sorry, I had no idea she was with you.”

“‘S’alright. It's not like that's ever stopped you before, huh.” He says in jest, while smacking Seokmin in the arm in a bro-manner. Namjoon had a big smile on his face but you could practically hear the anger threatening to burst out of him.

“But we like to keep things private, so I trust you’ll be discreet about this? You know, a little quid pro quo?” Namjoon gave him a knowing look and an outstretched hand.

Suddenly, a lightbulb goes off in you and realization sinks in. Seokmin was a K-drama actor who was recently on the tabloids for cheating on his pregnant fiancee. Jia and Lani could not stop blabbing about it.

As they shook hands, you give Namjoon's arm a gentle squeeze in an effort to calm him. “C'mon, Joon, he was just being welcoming,” you say.

“Yeah, he’s very welcoming indeed,” he says with a hint of sarcasm. He absently hands you your sweater and water bottle.

His hair was soaked with sweat and his bare chest was slicked with it as well. He looked like a god. And you’d never known that a sweaty man could smell this good. Your dirty thoughts are interrupted when he slips his shirt back on and turns his attention to you.

His hands stroking down your arms, he says, “Ready to go, baby?” He didn’t wait for you to answer but you felt his lips on the crown of your head. “Catch you later, man,” he says curtly.

You smile politely and wave goodbye as you walk away. “Nice meeting you!”

Seokmin gave a tight smile. “It was great to meet you too.”

Namjoon muttered after you stepped into the elevator. “Fucking asshat. He wouldn’t stop staring at your tits.”

You lifted a shoulder noncommittally. “What can I say? They’re nice tits.”

He made a low growling noise. You stifle a grin to hide your amusement. That was payback for his little striptease earlier.

But he takes you completely by surprise when he slaps your bottom hard, leaving behind a stinging sensation through your pants. “Next time, I’m bringing an extra shirt to cover you up.”

“Since when has the way that I dress been your business?” You quipped as you got off his floor and entered his unit.

He caught your wrist while you both lingered in the hallway. “Since I made a promise to make you a priority,” he answered.

You blinked profusely in surprise.

“Look, I know I haven’t done the whole relationship-thing in a long time and I’m a little rusty at it. But I meant it when I said I’d work my ass off to keep you,” he says firmly. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d see that I’m trying my best here.”

A pang of guilt hits you and you turn apologetic. “You’re right. I’m sorry. And yes, for the record, I see and appreciate the effort you’re putting in,” you acknowledge.

“I don’t want anybody else so…you’ll have to forgive me if I start getting territorial.”

You returned his gaze. “Joon, I would never,” you say apologetically, referring to your little exchange at the gym with Seokmin.

“I know you wouldn’t,” he answered. “I just know him a little too well, unfortunately.”

He was well-aware of Seokmin’s messy behavior. Even so, Namjoon typically kept his head down. Seokmin was a big boy and it wasn’t like Namjoon to stick his nose in other people’s business. He only hoped that his neighbors afforded him the same courtesy.

Jerking his head sideways, he beckons you towards the kitchen and his face visibly relaxes. “C’mon, there’s a large triple mocha that’s got your name on it,” he smiled.

******

“So this counts as date number two, right?” He asks while he sipped on his iced Americano.

You scrunch your eyebrows after biting into a pastry and disagree. “What? All we did was work out! That hardly counts as a date,” you scoffed, downing the rest of your coffee.

“And now we’re sitting here, having breakfast and a conversation!”

You let out a disappointed sigh, “But a gym date, though?”

He laughed. “I thought that the whole point was for us to spend time together without actively fucking?” He arched a questioning eyebrow at you. He gestures at the breakfast spread that his assistant set up, “Wouldn’t you think that this counts as quality time?”

You pucker your lips, thinking for a few beats. Jia and her boyfriend considered sitting on the couch and watching their favorite show together ‘quality time.’

Sure, this may not have been like a date-date like last night but he was making a conscious effort to move things around in his schedule so he could spend time with you.

You thought back to the old days when you’d hang out in his dorm, sitting side-by-side on his bed while you read books. At that point, he only had a little over 12 hours before he and his band moved onto the next city for another show.

“You’re right,” you agreed. “Date number two then.”

He gave a small pump of his fist in triumph. “I’m glad you said that because you’ll probably hate me after I tell you this.”

“What is it?” In the back of your mind, you had a feeling that he probably needed to fulfill a company schedule locally or he had to jet off somewhere.

“After today, I have a packed schedule. I’m under a deadline to finish this album so we can get it mastered by the end of the month. Meaning,” he sighed heavily, his face faltering, “I won’t be able to see you again… for the next two weeks, at least.”

Hearing that made your heart sink but you had to be realistic. You didn’t want Namjoon to put you ahead of his career. All you asked for was to have a place in his life. Not just as a booty call or a fuck-buddy, but for him to be actually committed to you. Part of that was him being more open to you about his schedule, when he previously was evasive about it.

“I appreciate you telling me,” you replied. “Then we’ll just make plans whenever you’re done.”

“Y-you’re not mad?” He says tentatively.

“No,” you smiled. “I’d be pissed if you ghosted me for two weeks without telling me! I just want you to communicate.”

He nodded, “From now on, you’ll always know where I’m at. And…if for some reason I can’t get that message to you myself, I’ll make sure that someone in my staff tells you.”

Your heart soars, making you get up from your seat to sit on his lap–much to his delight.

Could you love this man more than you already did?

You curled your arms around his neck and captured his mouth in yours. “Thank you,” you say to him.

“No need to thank me. I want to do this.” He pinches your chin gently.

You sit in silence, just gazing at each other. The longer you stare at him, the more you seriously consider tossing out your 5-date agreement and letting him take you on his couch right this second. You wished that you didn’t have to go to the office today and that he didn’t need to go into the studio.

His thumb brushed over your lips and touched his forehead to yours. Inhaling sharply, he says, “Alright, I think I need a shower,” before gently sliding you off him. He had a pained expression on his face.

“Again?” Before you sat in his kitchen, you took turns in his shower. You trusted him enough that you didn’t need to lock the bathroom door. In turn, he stayed true to his word and gave you your privacy.

He rose from his chair. “I know. But I need a cold shower before we head out.” It was only then that you noticed him cupping his crotch.

“Oh my god,” your hand flies to your mouth. “I’m so sorry…” You say as he tries his best to cover up his hardon.

“It’s fine. I’ll be done in 10,” he waves you off. You shout out more apologies while he waddles awkwardly to his bathroom.

The next two weeks would be difficult but you thought it might be a good break, considering being in the same room always cranked up the tension between you two.

The good thing was that Namjoon was being more open about how he felt. And while you were ready to scream out the L-word to him, you decided to save it until you felt absolutely sure that neither of you were going to drop the ball. You were making good strides by taking it slow and things were far better than they used to be. For now, you could rest on those thoughts and count the days until date number three.

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