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#clearing out posts that have been in my drafts for months
winter-seance · 10 months
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The Umbrella Academy 3.08
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snickerdoodlles · 2 years
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i haven’t rly been online much lately in a combination of being rly sick, rly busy, and generally just rly tired, but i have been making drafts of random thoughts so i’d remember to return to them when i did have the energy to properly write them out
except i haven’t been paying attention to the actual number of drafts i’ve been building up, and i just now realized i have 461 of them
help
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joelsgreys · 3 months
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softness
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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summary: Joel’s a little unsure of doing skin to skin with his newborn daughter.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. established relationship. (TW) PREGNANCY. mentions of premature birth, minor descriptions of childbirth, mentions of birth weight, it is implied that reader is breastfeeding her baby, semi accurate medical journal research, girldad! Joel, mentions of scars (Joel), mentions of insecurities and anxieties, if i missed anything, please let me know! NO MENTION OF READER’S AGE. NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER. no physical description of child except for her hair color/type. very minimal editing.
word count: 3.5k
a/n: i had this outline sitting in my drafts and i decided to finally just write it out and post it. it ain’t much, but it’s honest work. it is part of the safe and sound universe.
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She’d made her entrance into the world early.
About four or five weeks, the commune’s doctor thinks.
Without ultrasounds, it’d been a guessing game.
And a fucking terrifying guessing game at that.
For several months, all you could do was hope.
Hope for a smooth pregnancy.
Hope for a safe labor and delivery.
Hope for a strong, healthy baby.
When you went into labor earlier than the doctor had predicted you would, all of your hopes shattered, the pieces falling around you like shards of broken glass you couldn’t put back together even if you tried.
“No! No, it’s too soon! It’s too fucking soon!” you’d cried out, the sheer panic setting in and seeping into your bones as a warm, clear liquid dripped down the insides of your legs and pooled around your bare feet. You had been in the kitchen making Ellie breakfast and packing her lunch for school—one second you’re standing there in front of the food pantry debating with yourself on what vegetable to throw into the kid’s lunch bag with her sandwich and the next you’re calling out for help as an intense pressure nestled itself between your hips. It wasn’t until you heard a faint popping sound and then felt the gush of fluid between your thighs that you’d realized what was happening. An unmistakable first sign of labor, you’d experienced your water breaking. “This can’t be happening, it’s not time yet!”
Joel, who by some stroke of sheer stupid luck had the morning off from patrol duty, instructed Ellie to run upstairs and gather some clean clothes along with a pair of boots and the warmest coat you owned that still fit. November had brought along the first snowfall of the season—the frigid temperatures outside were anything but kind and the clinic was on the opposite side of the commune, a fifteen minute walk he wished you didn’t have to make in your condition. “I know this is real fuckin’ scary darlin’ but y’need to stay calm. I need you to stay as calm as possible. Y’think that you can do that for me, sweetheart?”
He’d been just as terrified, but he masked it well.
On the outside, he kept a calm, collected composure for your sake and for Ellie’s too, shoved aside his own fears so he could be the support you both needed, act as the glue that held yours and his little family unit together should anything were to happen. But on the inside, he was scared shitless, to say the least. He couldn’t be certain he would have the strength to hold himself together if something went wrong, if he lost you—or his unborn child.
Admittedly, it had taken him a few months to come to terms with the fact that he was going to be a father again at this stage in his life. The thought of him changing diapers at his age was one he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around—but the moment he felt that first little flutter of movement one night as you lay curled up against his side fast asleep, something shifted. That night, he had stayed wide awake, his large hand splayed over your belly in hopes he would feel that little flutter again.
“Joel, I’m really fucking scared. What if it’s too early—”
“Baby, look at me.” He reached up and gently took your chin, holding it between his thumb and index finger as he coaxed your gaze to meet his own. “S’gonna be okay,” he’d assured you, softly. “If this is happenin’ now, it’s because she’s ready, alright?”
For a split second, that panic had ceased.
“She?”
Confused, Joel’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”
“You just referred to the baby as a she, Joel.”
“I did?”
“Yeah—just now.” You’d stared at him with curiosity and took a step back, cradling your belly in both of your hands. “Do you think we’re having a girl?”
Sheepishly, he had shaken his head at you.
“No, I just—m’sorry. I ain’t all too sure why I said that.”
He truly, honestly hadn’t.
It’d slipped before he could even think about it.
But his accidental slip had been right.
After thirteen hours of grueling labor in Jackson’s small clinic, you’d given birth to a little girl, the sound of her loud wailing filling the whole room like a sweet melody eliciting a sob of joy from you and a shaky sigh of relief from Joel.
“Holy shit, she’s here! She’s actually fucking here,” Ellie breathed, her eyes going wide. Her arms were still wrapped around one of your legs—despite you warning the teenager about what she would see, it hadn’t stopped her from volunteering her assistance in the childbirth process. She watched on in a mix of both fascination and disgust as Dr. Porter, a woman in her sixties who served as Jackson’s sole physician, lifted the infant and immediately placed her onto your bare chest to clean her off. “This has gotta be the grossest, most amazing fucking thing I have ever fucking seen in my life.” Gently, she set your leg down onto the bed before walking around it to stand beside Joel. His hand was stroking your hair, his dark eyes trained on his crying newborn daughter. It was the perfect moment for Ellie to run her mouth and tease, “You’re not gonna cry, are you, Joel? I’d think you’re a lot fucking tougher than that, old man.”
“Shut up,” he’d muttered under his breath, putting an arm around her and pulling her against his side. He almost couldn’t believe this was now his life—a life he would have never even known if he hadn’t flinched twenty years ago when he had pulled the trigger.
Though she’d been born a few weeks prematurely, Rosemary Miller was deemed to be healthy—a tad underweight, but nothing to be worried about just yet, according to Jackie, the commune’s nurse. At about four pounds, eleven ounces, Rosemary was the tiniest thing you’d ever seen and somehow even tinier when Joel would cradle her in the palms of his large hands. Despite the fact that you’d been reassured that the baby’s low birth weight was nothing to be alarmed about, you and Joel had been advised it was best if you didn’t take her home until she gained a few more ounces and tipped the a scale at what the books state is a normal birth weight of five pounds, eight ounces.
“We just would feel better if she were here at the clinic where we can closely monitor her weight,” Jackie had said upon seeing the crestfallen look on your face. “Besides, you tore a little and you need time to heal as well, you know.”
Left with very little choice, you’d agreed to it.
“I’m losing it,” you say with an exasperated sigh as you stare up at the drab, gray ceiling. It’s been three days since you had given birth and all you want to do is take your daughter home. In an effort to lift your spirits, Maria had tried to warm the place up and make it feel more comfortable for you. She had swapped out the rough, scratchy bedsheet the clinic provided for you with a soft, knitted blanket she had made herself. She also took it upon herself to pack you a bag with your own clothes, a couple of books to read, and your favorite polaroids of Joel and Ellie. While it had been incredibly sweet of her to do for you, you still wanted out of that clinic sooner rather than later. “I miss our house. I miss our bed. I miss our kid.”
Joel, who’s sitting in an old, worn leather armchair tucked over in a corner of your room next to the frosted window, raises an eyebrow at you and then juts his chin towards Rosemary, who is swaddled up and sleeping soundly in the plastic bassinet beside your bed.
“Our kid’s right there, darlin’.”
You lift your head off your pillow and glare at him.
“I’m talking about Ellie, Joel.”
He chuckles and leans forward in his chair. Next to him sits a brown stuffed bunny rabbit—Ellie had traded a precious comic book for it and gifted it to the baby the same afternoon she was born. 
“She’s been comin’ to visit every day after school.”
“It’s not the same,” you pout, shaking your head.
Joel sighs and glances at the cot that he had been sleeping on for the last few days—truth be told, he misses the house too. His back certainly misses the bed. “It ain’t the same,” he agrees, tiredly. His face is worn with exhaustion. Despite you insisting that he go home and get some proper rest, he’s too stubborn to listen and only leaves the clinic to take a shower and change his clothes—and to check on Ellie, who’s got a bad habit of not doing her homework unless you or Joel nag her to get it done. “M’real sorry, darlin’. But you heard what they said. Baby’s gotta gain a little more weight before we can take her home.”
Even from where he’s sitting, he can see your eyes glaze over with tears of frustration. Since the baby was born, you’ve been very sensitive, more so than when you’d been pregnant—something he didn’t think was even possible.
“If she keeps on eatin’ the way she’s eatin’ we’ll be home by the end of the week,” Joel adds in an effort to cheer you up. “Besides, you need to heal before we make that long walk across town and back to the house, sweetheart. S’not like I can just pull up the fuckin’ minivan and drive you girls home like back in the day, y’know?”
You wrinkle your nose at him. “Ew, Joel. We would not have a fucking minivan.” Dabbing at your eyes with the back of your hand, you can’t help but laugh at the thought of Joel Miller behind the wheel of one of those things. Then, you realize how endearing it would be to watch as he’s loading up Rosemary’s car seat into the van, the muscles of his broad back flexing underneath his shirt as he pulled on the straps to make sure it was safe and secure. You’d climb into the backseat with her and on the way home, you would ask Joel to swing through the nearest burger joint drive through because you’re fucking starving and in need of a proper meal after being subjected to boring, bland hospital food. You shoot him a small smile. “On second thought, that doesn’t sound all that bad. Maybe we would.”
Suddenly, there’s a light knock at the door.
“Come in,” you call, careful not to be too loud.
Dr. Porter walks into the room.
She had been a primary care physician prior to the world ending, according to Maria, who a couple of months ago had given birth to her son while under Dr. Porter’s care. Maria had assured you that, even though the woman never trained in obstetrics, she always went above and beyond for all the mothers to be in the commune. She dedicated her spare time to studying, lost herself in medical books she found on the shelves of the town’s library—kind of like the one that’s currently tucked underneath her arm.
“Hi there mama,” she greets, her eyes shining brightly behind her coke-bottle glasses. Wearing jeans and a sweater, she doesn’t quite look the part—maybe she’d worn a white coat once in her life, but now it was only the old, silver metal stethoscope she had draped around her neck that gave her profession away. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“I’m okay,” you say with a shrug. “Can’t complain.”
Over in his corner, Joel can’t help but snort.
Ignoring him, you add, “Bleeding’s slowing down.”
“Good, that’s good,” Dr. Porter tells you. “And how about this sweet little girl?” She smiles and makes her way over to the bassinet, keeping her voice low. “She eating well?”
“She is. Her last feed was about two hours ago.”
“How’s she sleeping?”
“Like a rock.”
“And you’ve been doing skin to skin as well?”
You nod. “Yes, before and after her feedings.”
“That’s perfect.” Dr. Porter beams at you with pride. “Keep it up and do it as often as possible. There are a ton of benefits of doing skin to skin with her. It’s one of the most incredible things that a mother can do for her baby. Actually—” She pauses for a moment and pulls the book out from under her arm. “I have been doing a bit of research and as it turns out, there are also benefits if dad does skin to skin with baby as well.”
Joel stiffens slightly in his chair. “S’cuse me?”
“I found this book in the library. It talks about all of the benefits of fathers doing skin to skin with their newborn. It was written some time in the nineties and studies were still being conducted, but I really believe they were onto something.” She hands you the book. “For being preterm, Rosemary’s healthy, but it doesn’t do any harm to try whatever you can to make sure that she builds up that immune system and stays healthy, especially now that winter’s here.” Flashing you a smile, she informs you, “I went ahead and folded the pages for you and made some notes. There’s a few benefits in it for Joel as well. Could be worth a try.”
After telling you she’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you and to weigh the baby, Dr. Porter excuses herself from your room, quietly closing the door behind her.
Curiously, you open the book to the first page that she’d folded for you and start reading the first passage out loud.
“Ongoing studies have found skin to skin between father and child have similar benefits to those that come from skin to skin between mother and child. It regulates the baby's body temperature, blood sugar, and stress levels.” You pause and look over at Joel, who appears thoroughly unimpressed. “It also helps to regulate the baby’s heart rate and breathing rate. Joel, this is incredible! I think you should—”
“No.”
Joel winces. He doesn’t mean to sound so curt.
Your face falls. “Why not?”
“That’s for mothers,” he grumbles. “Y’know, for feedin’ the baby.”
“It’s for much more than just that.” You shake your head and flip over to the next page, scanning both the text as well as Dr. Porter’s notes. “It says here that it also helps the baby pick up their father’s natural scent and promotes bonding.”
“Sweetheart, I can bond with her just fine with my fuckin’ shirt on, there ain’t no need for me to—what in the world are you doin’?” Perturbed, Joel watches you as you take a handful of your blanket, throwing it off yourself. He jumps up to his feet the second he realizes that you’re about to get out of bed. “Don’t—”
“Oh relax, Joel. I should be moving more anyway,” you say, wincing as you sit up and swing both legs over the side of the bed. It isn’t so much pain as it is discomfort—everything had been shoved up and out of place for months, after all. As soon as you stand, Joel’s there at your side, one hand on your arm and the other on your back, trying to guide you back onto the bed. You lightly swat him away with your hand. “Joel, stop fussing over me! I’m fine!”
“Baby, y’need to lie down right now—”
“Take off your shirt.”
His hands fall away from you and his eyes widen.
“What?”
“Take off your shirt and go sit down in the chair.”
The blood drains from his face and he pales. 
It’s not that Joel doesn’t want to do it. He does.
He’ll do anything if it’s for his daughter’s benefit.
Still.
The idea of laying his innocent little baby girl on him without his shirt on—it’s uncomfortable. His chest and stomach are littered with several scars. Rough, raised patches of skin that serve as reminders of a brutal past he doesn’t want her finding out about, not for as long as he can fucking help it.
Rosemary deserves to be wrapped up in softness.
The softness of your smooth, blemish free skin.
The softness of the blankets you’d knitted for her.
The softness of the stuffed bunny Ellie had given her.
Joel?
He isn’t soft.
Nothing about him is soft.
Even holding her in his hands for the first time had been something of a battle. Hands that once snapped necks and slit throats didn’t deserve to hold something so pure and innocent.
“This sounds really promising, Joel.” Slowly, you make your way over to the plastic bassinet, ignoring the dull ache between your thighs. With your back to him, you carefully begin to unswaddle the baby. You try not to wake her as you peel off her warm, knitted onesie and matching socks, leaving her in nothing but her teeny, tiny cloth diaper. Gingerly, you pick her up and turn around to face him. “If Dr. Porter thinks we should try it, then it’s for a good reason, don’t you think so?”
Joel swallows harshly.
“What is it?”
“S’just that I—I’ve got scars everywhere, y’know?”
Your expression instantly softens for him. “Joel, you’re her daddy,” you remind him, gently. “She’s not going to care about things like that.” Pausing, it suddenly occurs to you that it’s not just about his scars. It’s about something else, something that runs so much deeper for Joel. He’d done what he had done in order to survive, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t live with the shame—the guilt and the regret. Rosemary begins to fuss awake and you lightly bounce her in your arms as you assure him, “She isn’t going to care about your past or what you’ve done. Her love for you is going to be as unconditional as yours is for her. She’s going to love you no matter what, Joel. I can promise you that.”
His jaw clenches and his lips press into a tight line.
Rosemary starts to cry—she’s cold, no doubt.
The old heater in the clinic hardly runs.
And when it does, it breaks down.
“Joel, please,” you beg over her wails. “Just try it? For me? For her?”
Sighing in defeat, Joel shrugs out of his jacket and he tosses it aside. With trembling fingers, he begins to unbutton his green flannel shirt—his long sleeved thermal henley comes off next and then he takes off the cotton t-shirt he wears underneath for an added layer of warmth during the winter season. As he stands there shirtless, he shivers and his flesh erupts with goosebumps. “Wait,” he mutters as he watches you take a step forward. He drags the armchair away from the window. He then sits down, his heart racing and the anxiety flaring as he gives you a subtle nod of his head. “Okay.”
You walk over to him and place her on his bare chest.
The second he feels Rosie’s soft skin on his, there’s a shift.
It’s similar to the one he felt when he first felt her move in your belly.
He calms and his heart slows—his nerves dissipate. 
And Rosemary stops crying.
She scrunches, curls up on his chest, and yawns.
Grimacing, you lean over and pick up his flannel shirt. “Here,” you say, draping it over them as a makeshift blanket. “How’s that feel?”
“Think she likes it, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, his fingers delicately brushing over her soft tufts of dark brown hair. His touch causes the newborn’s lip to curl and he catches a glimpse of the prominent dimple in her left cheek—the same dimple Sarah had inherited from him, Rosemary had inherited too. There’s a dull ache in his chest, but somehow, he still smiles as she peers up at him with sleepy eyes. “Hi, Rosie Posie. S’me, babygirl. Your daddy.”
Rolling your lip between your teeth, you stifle a giggle.
“What?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at you.
“She’s not the only one who seems to like it.”
Joel chuckles, admitting, “S’pretty relaxin’.” He presses his nose into his daughter’s curls and inhales deeply, relishing in the warm, sweet milky scent of her. After a minute, his smile falters slightly. “Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you really believe it?”
Your brow furrows. “Believe what?”
“That she’s gonna love me no matter what.”
“Of course I do.”
“How can you be so sure ‘bout it?”
Carefully, you perch yourself on the arm of the chair and press a gentle kiss against his right temple, your lips brushing over his scar. “Because I just am, Joel.”
Somehow, he believes it—he believes you.
Joel tilts his head back, puckering his lips.
Grinning, you give him a chaste kiss before standing. “I’m going to see if I can get a nap in before her next feed,” you tell him, padding back over to the bed. “Do you think you’ll be okay with her for a while, just the two of you?”
“I think we’ll be just fine,” he murmurs, gingerly stroking Rosemary’s silky cheek with his finger. “Yeah. We’ll be just fine, won’t we, babygirl?”
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divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎
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Reminder; Don't Forget
(Scrap)
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❥Park Seonghwa x fem reader
➯a/n: i want park seonghwa to be mean to me while wearing a tank top, that is all ➯a/n: i'm going to start posting drafts that haven't been touched in over a month so they don't just collect dust, enjoy ya filthy animals
✃ "You need a reminder of who's good girl you are."
✫彡wordcount: 2.7k
(>ᴗ•)♡´・ᴗ・`♡genre: YANDERE SMUT (hinted mafia/crime au)
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: THIS IS A DARK FICTION. EMPHASIS ON DARK FICTION. i do no condone pretty much anything seonghwa does in this fanfic. this is very dark, the darkest i've gone so if you are uncomfortable with that check out something else. we have here: dark/yandere/savior complex hwa, degrading, unsafe physical restraint, choking, destruction of personal property, shaming, dubcon, extremely possessive behavior, some ddlg themes, slapping, praise, yelling, captivity, crying, knifes thrown at reader as a punishment(none hit!!), threats of violence, manipulation, mind break, hair pulling, mention of edging, face humping, throat fucking, messy bj, not proof read
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
"Did you forget your place, hm? It certainly seems like it, acting like a slut when you're mine!" His grip on your neck tightens, a chuckle leaving his furled lips as you grab at his tank top desperately trying to force out apologies through the pressure he puts on your wind pipes. "What, you can't even say that you're sorry? Another's man's number in your phone and you can't tell me you're sorry?"
Oh he's evil, he loves to see you squirm. And squirm you do: pushing against his heavy weight on your hips and clawing at his arm as your lungs beg for air.
He lets go, arms crossing his chest as he leans back nonchalantly, every bit of his weight in your lap as you heave. "Hwa-seong...Hwa, I'm s-sorry! I thought, thought, it'd be okay hes just a f-friend-"
   "You thought," he laughs cruelly, "are you even capable of that? Dumb little girl," he slaps your jaw, lightly, but it still makes you face the wall with a look of defeat.
"I think for you, is that clear?" You nod, tear stained cheeks gleaming in the light.
"Hey, am I clear?" he shouts this time, making you jump.
    "Yes! Yes, Hwa, clear..."
   "There's my good girl—" He brushes back your hair, cooing as you lean away, "you're the prettiest girl I ever laid my eyes on, and you think men don't see that? You think they're blind? Or are you really just that naiive, pretty baby?" His cool finger tips trail down to the blooming bruise on your neck, pressing softly to make you whine. "Give me your phone."
   He's up and off your body in a second flat, letting you catch your breath as you slowly manage to pull yourself to your knees. He doesn't press you to hurry or yell, he doesn't do anything but sit back in the bean bag chair he gifted you for previously good behavior and watch you like a hawk. His legs spread and hands on his knees, resisting the urge to snatch you up. When you turn and see him on the other side of the room, you simply outstretch your arm with the old prepaid phone he provided you with a few weeks ago. "Bring it here," he commands lowly, eyes tracking your every move as you slowly move towards him on your knees- having no energy to stand.
He spreads his legs further, a silent instruction. You slot yourself between them and hold the phone to him tentative, shoulders relaxing as he takes it. "Thank you, beautiful. See, isn't it easy when you listen to me?" He unlocked the phone quickly, eyes flicking to you darkly when you go to take it back. "Got something to hide?" You shake your head, looking down as he takes your hands and places them on each of his thighs. "Don't move."
So you don't, simply breathing deeply to replenish your abused lungs while he combs through your phone with a fine toothed comb. You know you haven't done anything truly wrong, but it seems like he has different definitions to you.
"Good girl..." He whispers to himself as he sees the message of you shooting down the idea your friend tried to corrupt you with, to go out without him. "Stupid, but good..." He continues as he reads through every message with the phone number of the man. He monitors everything you do, it was only a matter of time before he got around to checking all of the numbers in your phone and their owners.
"Aw, you really are just naiive, huh? My poor little angel. Cant even tell when someone's trying to take you away from me-" He tuts his tongue, setting the phone down on the floor. When you go to pick it up, he kicks your hand away. "Sorry, Baby, you can't be trusted with big girl stuff yet. Gotta learn first." He smashes the device beneath his booted heel, a squeal passing through your lips at the loud metallic crunch.
"Hwa!" A pouty whine comes before you can stop it, tears welling up in your eyes all over again. When he cocks his eyebrow up, you cower between his legs, stuttering quietly. "Sorry, m'sorry..." He swipes the destroyed phone to the side with his boot before tapping your hip with it. You shuffle quickly, untying his shoes with a shaky breath.
"I know you get bored baby, but I can't have others corrupting your mind. I'll get you some new books, maybe even a TV for in here if you're extra good." You whisper a soft thank you, and a promise you will be as you set his shoes off to the side neatly.
"Look up at me, Doll. C'mon don't be angry," you look up at him as softly as you can, a groan of affection bubbling past his throat, "there's my pretty little thing." You rub your fingers on his jean-clad legs in an attempt to ground yourself as he looks down at you like a predator that's spotted it's next meal.
"Aren't you so happy you have me to take care of you? Who knows what others would do to that pretty face of yours— not to mention that pretty cunt."
A heat immediately finds it way to your face, and he laughs deeply. "Oh, please, don't be coy. You know as well as I do that if I didn't take you out of there that that little hole would be ruined in an hour. I saved you."
You hide your face in his lap, mind racing. It's true that he's more gently than other people you've had the dis-pleasure of encountering in his line of work. But that doesn't make him any less over bearing and obsessive. His possessiveness bordering on ownership. Sometimes you're truly thankful he scooped you up before anyone else could touch you- other times you curse him for it.
He rubs the back of your head gently, leaning up in the slouching chair, like he can sense your thoughts. "You aren't going anywhere, Baby. You're mine- until the day you die and even after that. Even God himself couldn't pry you away from me. You are mine. Do you understand that?" You nod into his lap, a quiet 'yes,hwa' muffled by his jeans. "Such a sweet thing," he whispers before gripping your hair and pulling you up, earning a gasp.
That glint in his eyes- "Hwa, wait, wait—" he did no such thing, standing up with his clothed crotch in your face, pulling your hands up to his belt.
"You need a reminder of who's good girl you are-"
"No-"
"No?!" He laughed in disbelief, nails digging into your scalp as he makes you look up at him, the stretch of your neck uncomfortable as he cranes it up. There's a sharp hunger in his eyes, "you're so cute -so, so, so, cute when you're defiant... but I'm not in the fucking mood. Get your ass up," he tugs you up by your hair, ignoring the sharp yelps that tremble past your lips.
     "Ple-ase don't take me downstairs! I'll be good, I'll be good!"
    "It's okay baby, we aren't going downstairs," he positions you back to the wall and backs up, pushing you back when you try to follow and apologize. "I'm too tired." The glimmer of hope is stomped out as he unlocked his side of the nightstand. "You can take your punishment here."
   "Hwa... I'm real sor-" A skinny throwing knife that thuds into the wall next to your head shuts you up quick, a squeal replacing your pleas.
   "Been looking after you so much, I'm rusty-" He throws another with a groan, hiding his smirk as you jump, "stay still baby, I'm out of practice." You can't help but duck as it thunks into the wall just above your head.
     "Stand up straight!" His booming voice shakes you to your core, and you stand as straight as you can manage with the knot forming in your gut. You grip the wall with your finger tips, looking down at your feet so you don't see the sharp objects coming. You've found that it's less fearful that way.
Knife after knife is thrown, each dull thump making you twitch as they're buried into the drywall in the outline of your body.
When they finally stall, his sock clad feet come into view, his curved knuckle lifting your chin. The flame in his eyes has faded to a simmer, an almost fond one. "Are you done being a brat? Or should I let my hand slip next time I need target practice?"
   "I'm done..." you speak with a gulp, body still frozen against the wall lest you move and graze against the blades.
He seems to sense your thoughts once again, cooing softly as he notices your tense shoulders. "C'mon, sweet girl," he carefully pulls you straight out from the wall and twirls you around.
He wraps his arms around under yours and grips your shoulders, holding you close to his chest and resting his chin on your head. "Your life in my hands... Such a delicate thing you are." You eyes trail over the outline of your body, traced with throwing daggers. "If you just behaved, I wouldn't have to scare you. It's the best way for you to learn, my love. That fear you feel when we go downstairs, when I have you pinned up- that's the fear you would feel every waking moment without me. Just be a good girl, and let me protect you..."
"...Okay, I'm sorry, Hwa... I don't know why I act out," You don't know if you're telling the truth anymore. It is even acting out? You sometimes think you have a right to.
Maybe— "Maybe you like it when I'm mean to you."
You don't know what you would have thought, but that wasn't it. You think he likes being mean to you. He always finds a reason to punish you: whether it be with bone chilling fear or being pushed to your sexual edge and then repeatedly denied.
    Some days, he's softer with the sexual aspect of his obsession with you.
He turns you back around and shoves you to his knees, right back into his clothed bulge where you started. "I want to claim you, I'm going to claim you. Every part. Take it off now before I decide to skull fuck you." Your breath hitches in your throat, lip trembling at his threat, knowing full well he will follow through.
Today is not one of those days, you realize.
You hands quickly find their way to his belt, unbuckling the golden buckle and letting it dangle, the button undone next and the zipper followed. He didn't bother to kick his jeans off, or even pull them down. Only his cock out, twitching to life infront of you inpatiently. "You belong to me, I'm gonna get that through your thick skull" -he flicks your head- "even if I have to use my cock."
He rubs against your cheek, sighing out in pleasure at the feeling of your hot embarrassed face. "Say my name," he whispers deeply, eyes swirling with an unreadable mix of emotions.
"Seonghwa," you pant out shyly, eyes closed as you feel him rutting against your face, his pre cum smearing on your cheek bone. His grip is continually becoming softer, loving as he lewdly humps your head. Your hands find purchase on his sock clad feet, helping you lift up your body into him. "Seonghwa," it comes out as a moan, and a thick groan comes from him in response.
He steps back just an inch, looking down at your tear stained face, his fresh pre-cum glimmering on the side of your face.
His full lips curve into a smile, his previously angry facade fading as quick as it came when he busted in the door earlier, while he lifts you to the bed and lets your head hang.
He's even beautiful when viewed upside down-
    "You make it hard to ever leave your side, pretty girl. I could spend the rest of my life buried in any of your gorgeous holes, I love you so much."
"I love you, Hwa. I-" Your breath catches in your throat as the words tear through your throat. "I do want you to claim me, I want to know I'm yours." One of your hands seems to sprout a mind of its own, wrapping around the base of his thick and smooth girth. "Let me take care of you, and you take care of me."
A groan dies on his lips, shuddering as you slowly stroke him, the words you speak shooting through his heart and down to his balls. "Let me be your good girl. Please, I know I can!"
The fear he instilled in you just moments ago festered into a need to please, to solidify your place by his side so he would never leave. He never would dream of it- leaving you. You are his heart and soul personified. You hold his entire being in your hands, and you have no idea.
"Yeah? Gonna be my good girl again? Make it up to me?" His heart flutters as you nod enthusiastically, your mouth opening wide for him and tongue lolling out."Fuck, that's a good girl," he spreads his legs around your dangling head, slim fingers gathering yours to your chest and holding them ever so softly as he slips right down your throat.
The hot, velvety skin encasing him makes him moan loudly, squeezing your hands to ground himself and keep himself from fucking your skull like his life depends on it. But, oh, how he wants to—
"Good fucking girl, that's it, just like I taught you," you gulp around his overwhelming length, eyes closing as you focus on breathing through your nose, the smell of his body wash somehow soothing to your fried nervous system.
   He holds himself back as long as he can, thrusting in your throat slowly and basking in the warmth of it. But as your saliva builds, nowhere to go, and the wet and lewd squelch of your throat grows louder, he can no longer do that. He intertwines his fingers with yours and lets you squeeze tightly, a soft growl letting you know his arousal is at a peak before he loses all control-
   His hips draw back and slam into you, the head of his cock poking at the very depth of your throat and making you gag, and the noise just stirs him on, going again and again and again to hear that sweet sound of you choking around him. Sticky saliva tainted with the white of his pre-cum drips from the corners of your stretched mouth, dripping up your face. It seems like the onslaught will never end, but he has bigger plans for his building release.
     The moment your throat is free of his cock, you draw in a large gasp, all of the wetness in your mouth dripping like a waterfall, letting you heave as he watches with dark eyes. Not that you can see the lust driven look on his face, if you were to open your eyes you'd be blinded by spit and cum.
  He discards his pants and top as he lets you catch your breath, cooing all the while about how good you just did for him. He uses the softness of his tank top to wipe away most of the filth on your face, and you finally peek your eyes open as you feel him lift you.
   You swear there's hearts swirling in the darkness of his eyes as he scans your messy face, a permanent smirk plastered on his features. "Pretty girl, you're such a mess for me," you can only pant in response, leaning into the palm he places on your cheek as he lays you down right-side-up, letting your head collide with the soft pillows.
The moment he put a pillow under your back, you knew you were in for a long ride.
And by the end of it, you wouldn't forget who you belong to.
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miniwheat77 · 9 months
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Seductive. (Captain Price x Reader.)
!CW! NSFW, smut, p in v sex, rough sex, age gap, (let me know if I missed any)
(Summary): Reader takes some advice from a friend on base and seduces her Captain.
(This has been in my drafts for forever, I hope you like it.)
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Your eyes narrow as you look upon her, very clear fake laugh leaving her lips as she places her hand on his shoulder. He doesn't notice, but you do. You can see the look in his eyes as she does, what she's doing. It's working. She walks away from him and makes her way over to you. You're sitting at a table in the mess hall, sandwich in hand.
“What are you doing?” You ask your only friend on the base you worked on. Her name was Katy, the only tolerable female on base. She might've been a little bit of a barracks bunny but you usually ignored that. She was nice and funny and you got along with her quite well.
“What?” She says. “You’re totally trying to seduce him.” You laugh. After witnessing her chatting up your commander. “Yeah? So?” Your eyes widen. “What the hell. You whore.” She shoves you. “Oh come on, don’t be such a prude.” She rolls her eyes. “Katy. You know you can’t have relations on base.” You chuckle. “What they don’t know won’t hurt em.” She smirks. “You’re not interested in anyone at all?” She asks. “No.” You say, confused. “Lame. I was going to tell you how to get what you want.” She smirks. You roll your eyes. “I’ll let you know if I ever need your expertise, but you know I’m leaving soon.” She scoffs. “I know. It’s bullshit, you’re supposed to stay here with me.” She pouts. “It’s only for 6 months and I’ll be back.” You chuckle.
You’d been recruited for task force 141, and you were leaving in a couple of weeks. She was very upset that you were leaving but you were excited for something new. After finishing up lunch, the both of you returned to your posts. You weren't sure how you got recommended to be in task force 141, you hadn't even met anyone apart of it besides the few time's you talked to Laswell, but it wasn't her task force. It was different and you weren't sure if you were ready for it.
The two weeks leading up to the day you were leaving, were crazy. Almost every single day Katy convinced you to go out, you spent almost 2 full weeks hungover at work. It was awful, but it was some of the most fun you’d ever had. The time seemed to drag on, you were nervous and excited at the same time for something different. You were waiting on a bench patiently for your helicopter to arrive, the one that'd be taking you away. Katy was sitting next to you. Talking to you before you'd inevitably leave. She was worried but she'd never show it. She was good at hiding her emotions. She had been through a lot before she entered the military, so she was good at concealment. When the helicopter arrived, she gave you a hug and you finished your goodbye's to the other few acquaintances you had on base. They were sad to see you go, and they were worried as well. 141 went on some crazy missions and they were worried about you. "Don't get dead." Katy smiles, you could see the hurt in her eyes.
She was upset when you left but she’d be okay. She had guys on base to keep her company while you were gone anyways.
The ride to the base task force 141 was on took quite a few hours. They were off in the middle of nowhere in Iran. Working toward eliminating Hassan Zyani. The Iranian terrorist.
When you arrived on base, it was pretty early in the morning. "Hi." A man smiles. He's attractive, very attractive. You smile and take his outstretched hand. Shaking it. "I'm Captain John Price. It's nice to finally meet you." He smiles. His accent takes you a little off guard, forgetting that this base is going to have Military from all over. "Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N." You smile. He nods his head. "I've heard a lot about you. A lot about how sharp you are for your age." He smiles. "Really? I didn't know that people talked about me." You chuckle. "Oh they do. It's nice having you here Y/N, I'll show you around.” He spins around on his heels and you know you'll fit in just fine here.
Your first few weeks with 141 were busy. Nonstop missions, always up to something. If you weren’t out on a mission, you were inside of an office helping people out with research and all kinds of paperwork. You spent a lot of time with your Captain and Laswell. They enjoyed your company and your expertise with technology. Your relationship with each of the members of 141, and those in alliance with 141 were close knit. You got along so well with everyone right away and they took you in as one of their own. Joking and playing with Soap, but knowing he’d ring someone’s neck for you. Slight gestures that always made Ghost smile under his mask. Sharing sweets with him, laughing when he didn’t like it and would spit it out. Catching him smoking with his mask slightly lifted. Him threatening to kill you if you tell anyone. His eyes would darken and he’d glare if someone said something slightly aggressive to you. Playing small pranks on everyone with Gaz, he was like your evil twin. But the couple times Price got stern with you he was always there to help the situation. Usually a “take it easy cap, she’s new.”
But you didn’t really mind when he got stern with you. If you needed correction, you’d take the advice.
The only thing that really started to bother you, was the growing feelings you felt for your Captain. You didn’t figure he’d go after you, significant age gap, the job you both worked in. It just seemed impossible. You wondered if he was married but ended up asking if he had any kids and he said no, he’d never even been married. Your heart jumped. Literally wanted to beat out of your chest in excitement. He was single. Your only concern now was the significant age gap. If he didn’t mind, you definitely didn’t mind.
You spent many nights up late, daydreaming. You thought about the way he smelled, the way he has to taste on your tongue. The way his facial hair would scratch at the skin between your legs. You were groggy most days but managed to hide it. Your Captain always kept everything professional with you. He never gave you a reason to have such a growing crush on him despite his protectiveness. He was a little rough around the edges, raised his voice sometimes, very stern. You day dreamt about that too, how rough he could be. His calloused hands moving with the curves of your body. Sometimes you had to excuse yourself to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face, get him out of your head. But not even an ice bath would take away the growing heat you felt between your legs when you thought about him. You suffered like this for longer than you liked to admit. Longing stares at him during meetings. Constant concern about him on missions. It was getting a little dangerous how you felt about him.
You sat on the edge of your bed. It was pretty late at night. You were running out of options. You had one left, and you were growing desperate. With a sigh, you pull your phone out. Quickly dialing her number.
“Hey Katy.” You smile as she answered. “Y/N! Hi! How is everything?” She asks. “Everything is great, but I need advice.” You laugh. “Oh? With what?”
You take a deep breath, standing up and stepping further into your room to ensure nobody would hear you. “Do you remember when you said to ask you, ‘when I wanted to get what I want’ you remember that?” You say. She squeals through the phone. “You like somebody? You’re going to try to seduce them? You whore.” She laughs. “Yeah, if I told you who it was you’d probably freak.” She looks confused but you can’t see it. “What?”
“It’s my Captain.” She gasps. “Y/N! You little minx!” She laughs. “Just.. tell me how to do it.” You breathe. “Okay okay.” She laughs.
“First, start being friendly. When he makes a joke, put your hand on his shoulder, on his knee if you’re sitting next to him. You can fake a laugh, but don’t be obvious.” She says. “I’m listening.” You smile. “Your base isn’t that strict right?” She asks. “No?” She smiles on the other end of the line. “In the morning, before you put your uniform on, go out to get coffee. I’ve done it before in just a tank top and shorts. But you have to track his pattern so you know where he’ll be. Make sure he’s in the room, you don’t wanna seduce the wrong one yknow?” She laughs. “When you’re training, just wear a sports bra and shorts. Tight shorts. Ask him to help you train, and don’t be afraid to make some suspicious noises when you’re working out.” She smirks. “When you’re stretching, whimper. They like that.” You’re laughing. “You seem to know a lot about this.” You laugh. “Of course I do.” She rolls her eyes. You take a deep breath. “Start with those, and I’ll think of some more.” She giggles. “Okay. You’re a life saver.” After some more sly words from her, you talk a little more about everything going on. Once you’re done, you say your goodbyes and hang up.
The nervousness you felt in the morning after the conversation with her was almost too much to bare. You made your way into the mess hall, shorts and a tight tank top just like she said. You knew your Captain didn’t sleep all that well so he was always the first awake. You make your way into the kitchen, your eyes burned from being tired but you needed this. Needed him to pay attention to you. When you step into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes tiredly, his eyes nearly bulge out of his head. He has to stop himself from choking on his coffee. He had never seen you dressed like this before. He has to kick himself for acting like a horny teenage boy, it was pathetic. You don't notice anything different about him as you finish getting your coffee, mumbling a small 'good morning' to him.
Over the next couple of weeks, you do as she says. When he'd make you laugh in any way, you'd put a light hand on his shoulder or thigh if you were sitting next to him. You'd come out nearly every morning in something revealing. He didn't seem to show any interest in you which sucked. You started to think maybe he just wasn't interested in you, but after more conversations with Katy, she said to keep up and not let up quite yet. To keep doing it for a while. So you did. It didn't take much to do it anyways.
“Morning Captain.” You say tiredly. “Good morning.” He smiles. He breathes out. He didn’t expect this, the way you looked under your gear. “Why are you awake so early Ah?” He asks. “Didn’t sleep good. Was thinking about working out but Soap is usually my spotter and I know he’s not awake yet.” You sigh. You laugh, sitting across from him at the table. You needed to try something else, so why not this? John perks up. “I could spot you if you need help.” He breathes. He’s trying not to sound too eager. “Oh I’d hate to ask you to do that..” you say innocently. “Oh, it’s no problem. I don’t mind.” He smiles. “Okay. I’ll go get changed and I’ll meet you in the gym?” He nods his head. “Sounds good sweetheart.”
You walk quickly to your room, changing into an even more revealing outfit. You wait around in the gym, doing your usual workout routine. When your Captain comes in, he freezes when he sees you. Sports bra, even tighter shorts. He breathes out, trying to collect his thoughts. Was he really this deprived? Thinking this way about you?
He sets all of his belongings down and makes his way over to you. “Ready?” He asks. Standing over the bench press. You nod your head. "You've stretched already right?" He asks. You nod your head with a smile. You lay down and get adjusted onto it. You grasp the bar, lifting it off of the rack and beginning to lift it up. “Let me know when it gets to be too much.” He says. You nod your head trying to breath through it. Katy’s words echo in your ear.
You start small, small breaths of air leaving your lips, and you get a tiny bit louder, very small moans escape your lips and you don't notice anything at first but as your whimpers got louder, breaths of air leaving your lips with each raise you do, you finally catch it. John stepping back. Having to adjust his hardening cock. The tightening he felt was uncomfortable and he couldn’t take it. You notice this action, having to stop yourself from smiling. It was fucking working.
Katy you devil.
You hang up the bar, struggling a little as you did so. “Did good Y/N.” He smiles. “Thank you, I’m trying.” You laugh. Your body had a slight sheen of sweat. He could see the way your cleavage looked. Beads of sweat. You probably tasted so sweet, he wanted to run his tongue along your skin. He has to shake the thoughts away. So dirty. It was fucking working. You were so surprised. John works out alongside you for only a few minutes longer before excusing himself to go do 'work' which you knew wasn't true. He was rock hard and needed relief, or at least to get away from you. The moment he leaves the Gym, you're picking up your phone to give Katy a call.
When she picks up, the first words out of your mouth are "It fucking worked!" to which she laughs. She asks if you hooked up but of course you say "Not yet." following this up by telling her what had happened with the Gym.
"Maybe you should surprise him in his office if that's where he went. Might walk in on a little something." She laughs. You laugh, shrugging it off. After a little more conversation, you make your way to his office. Maybe she was right. Maybe you might. As you approach you don't hear anything. But you think, he might hear your footsteps and it would be awkward for you to walk away, it'd seem suspicious. So without thinking you come up with some kind of lie and walk right into his office. Your breath leaves your body, a gasp leaving your lips. He gasps out, eyes going wide as he rushes to cover himself up. "Fuck, I'm so sorry." You gasp, rushing to cover your eyes. "I'll.. I'll come back later." You mumble. You step out and he groans in frustration, he needed to catch you before you got away.
He scrambles up to follow after you. Opening up his office door. “Wait- Y/N!” He calls after you. You stop immediately, turning around. “Come here.” He breathes. You nod your head immediately, following him back into his office. “I.. what did you need darling?” He asks. His face is blushing red, and he slicks his hair back, he hadn’t even put his hat on. “I.. I was…” you pause for a second. He’s standing right in front of you, hard. Little beads of sweat on his forehead. You glance down, backing up into his office door and closing it behind you. “I was going to ask if you needed any help. But I guess you answered my question.” You smile. His eyes widen at how forward you’re being, but he’s not going to deny this. He’s breathing hard, he seems nervous.
He takes a step forward and smashes his lips against yours, pushing you back into the wall behind you. He’s got a tight grip on you as he kisses you, teeth knocking against yours with the force of his lips moving with yours. He reaches for the shorts you still have on, pushing them down your legs. Once you’re bare, he lifts you up by your thighs, walking you over to his desk and sliding some of his paperwork off to set you down onto it. “Such a fucking temptress.” He breathes. He leans into you and you hold onto him by his neck, kissing him again. He’s got his hand wrapped around your lower back, hips rubbing into yours. The seam of his pants is stimulating you, making you moan out. He unbuttons them, unzipping them and pushing them low enough to expose his cock. Your eyes widen slightly at him. He spits in his hand, lowering his hand to slide it over your hole, earning a gasp from you. He slides his cock right into you, filling you completely full in one thrust. He clamps a hand over your mouth as a cry is about to leave your lips. “Stay quiet for me darling.” He chuckles. He holds it there as he begins fucking you, your body lurching with every hard thrust he takes. He raises your thighs higher up on his hips, pushing you further back into the desk, until the cold wood is pressed right up against your back. You clutch the edge of it, trying your hardest to stay quiet as he hammers his hips into yours.
“Been such a fucking tease-“ he grits his teeth. Holding onto your thighs. “Walking out there in basically nothing in the morning.. wearing those tight clothes- fuck.” He tilts his head back. Groaning out. “I didn’t think it’d work.” You look up at him, lazy smile on your lips. “You seduced me?” He smirks. You bite your lip, staying quiet. He snorts. “Bad girl hm?” He rubs at your clit with his thumb, and you tilt your head back once again. “Bad, bad girl.” He growls. Your knuckles are turning white with how hard you’re holding onto the desk, a death grip as he pounds you. He pushes a hand down around your throat, pushing down on you lightly. “You didn’t have to work too hard at it baby, just didn’t think you’d go for an old man like me.” He chuckles. “Oh… you have no idea.” You smile. You bite your lip lightly, gripping his wrist. He grits his teeth, he’s getting close. He draws his hand back, squeezing your breast, earning a whine from you. “Rub your clit.” He breathes. You look up at him, raising your hand. “Gonna show you how good I can make you feel.” He breathes. He pulls you closer to him, holding your thighs at a good angle. Instead of full thrusts, he starts grinding his cock into you perfectly. He rubs right up against the spongy spot inside of you and a cry leaves your lips.
He wants to tell you to quiet down, but he doesn’t care who hears anymore. You’re his, all his. “Oh my god-“ you cry out, letting your head rest back on his desk. “So tight on me sweetheart.” He grits his teeth. He keeps the steady pace, and your legs shake slightly as he pushes you closer to your high. “I- I’m gonna cum Captain.” You breathe. He smiles, “cum for me baby, that’s a good girl.” He growls. “Keep rubbing your clit.” He breathes. He’s right there too, praying you’ll cum before him. You tilt your head back, body lurching forward as you reach your high, and once he knows he’s ridden it out for you, he starts thrusting again. It only takes a couple until he’s spilling into you with a groan. You’re breathing hard as he helps you up, standing between your legs still.
“You’re a bad girl you know that?” He laughs. You smile. “Just for you though, Captain.”
“Good. Because I’m going to keep you to myself.” He laughs.
This was just the start of something scandalous.
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hyuckiefluff · 9 months
Text
drunk in you | mark lee
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pairing: mark lee x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers word count: 1.9k ish warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing, suggestive language, reader is down bad for mark (aren’t we all), implications of drunk sex summary: was Mark Lee’s new haircut really the drop that would tip the glass over and make you spill how you really feel about him?… Well, the haircut and also the alcohol. author's note: i’m backk!! srry for disappearing for *checks calendar* two months lol this has been sitting in my drafts since mark cut his hair aaand i wanted to post it for his bday so let’s pretend im not 3 days late! HAPPY BDAY MARKIEEE <33 it’s a bit short cuz i felt like i’d have to make a second part if i wanted to add smut to yknow fully get into it lol idk but consider this a little teaser and if it doesn’t flop I’ll post a second part :)
part 2
A sudden burst of bright light pierced through your closed eyelids, jolting you awake from the deep sleep you were in. As you gradually became aware of your surroundings, you couldn't ignore the soreness in your muscles and the strange stickiness between your legs. However, it was the foreign hand resting right on top of your ass that sent alarm bells ringing through your mind. Your eyes shot open, and regret instantly washed over you as a pulsating pain hammered at your head.
"What the fuck..." you groaned, attempting to focus your blurry vision and make sense of the situation. Upon looking around, you realized that you were in the guys' dorm, more specifically, in Mark's room...
Then it hit you like a ton of bricks.
If you were in Mark's room, then that hand... and the body it belonged to, had to be...
Oh my god, what happened last night?
8 hours earlier…
Drinking with your friends after a grueling week at uni wasn't anything out of the ordinary for you. In fact, it'd be weirder if you were cooped up at home worrying about midterm grades instead of laughing your head off at whatever Jeno just blurted out. First sign that you were drunk, the boy wasn’t even that funny. His neck and ears were flushed crimson, a clear sign that he, too, had indulged in one too many drinks. And there was Jisung, practically glued to Jeno's side, oozing a whole lot of gooey affection that he would vehemently deny once he sobered up. 
Renjun and Haechan were locked in a heated argument on the floor, their voices rising in the air over some trivial matter that would probably be forgotten by morning. Surprisingly, though, they seemed to be the least intoxicated among you. 
Meanwhile, Jaemin was frantically rummaging through the kitchen, his frustrated groans and curses echoing throughout the room. It was clear that his search for more alcohol was proving to be a fruitless endeavor.
Beside you, Chenle was on his phone, engrossed in a replay of the Warriors game. At first glance he doesn’t look drunk, but you knew better. If he were truly sober, he'd be shouting and cursing at his phone screen, venting his frustrations as his beloved team struggled to keep up. Instead, he was lazily sipping from his nearly empty cup while his glossed over eyes remained glued to the screen.
Mark Lee was the only one missing from the group. You sent him a few voice messages letting him know that if he didn’t arrive in the next 10 minutes you would eat his portion of the kimchi jiggae you’d ordered earlier. He responded within seconds with a funny GIF that showed a man running and tripping.
Mark stumbled through the door just a few minutes later. He was soaked from head to toe, his hoodie covering most of his head. He was panting and his shoes were muddy and wet, he got rid of them in the entrance and looked up, clearly out of breath.  But you were already stuffing your face with his food anyways. Whoops. 
Though as soon as he pulled down the hood a chunk of food went down the wrong pipe. You coughed uncontrollably, your chest heaving as you desperately tried to regain your breath.
"Dude!! Are you seriously eating my food?" he exclaimed.
But when he noticed your struggling state, his words trailed off, replaced by genuine worry. "Yo, are you good?" he asked, walking closer to you and patting you in the back.
You managed to nod weakly, staring up at him. 
"Why’re you so late? Oh, new haircut?" Haechan chimed in from the floor.
"Yeah... what's the verdict?" Mark asked, turning his head to the side to better show off the lines of his undercut, his gaze lingering on you. 
So many thoughts raced through your mind but you were unable to form a single word. Mark had had long hair for quite some time now, and it was you who had encouraged him to let it grow. You enjoyed styling it, braiding it, and adorning it with charms—Mark gave you the freedom to do whatever you pleased with his hair. You had grown fond of his long hair, especially after helping nurse it back to health from the damage caused by bleaching and dyeing. Yet now he was sporting short hair and an undercut with edgy designs on the side, and you couldn't help but openly ogle at him. 
He looked hot as fuck.
It’s true that you harbored feelings for Mark that went beyond friendship but you were always able to hide it well and it worked out better this way for both of you (or that’s what you liked to believe). Needless to say you liked him a lot and had for a while so the sight of his new look had sent your emotions spiraling. He showed up merely minutes ago and you already felt so weak at the knees and your brain was fuzzy even though you hadn’t drank that much yet.
"Don't like it," you muttered, hoping your words would deflect attention from the clear shift in your expression. Turning around, you sought refuge on the couch next to Chenle, placing the bowl of food aside. Your stomach was turning weirdly, making it impossible to swallow another bite.
You scolded yourself inwardly for being so dramatic. It was just a haircut. But, god, he looked so good.
In an attempt to calm yourself down, you chugged your cup with soju and let out a big groan after emptying it. The sound catching Chenle’s attention as he peered curiously from his phone. You offered him a closed-lip smile, prompting an intrigued eyebrow raise from him.
Mark was awkwardly standing on the same spot. He was a bit taken aback by your sudden coldness. He definitely picked up on your strange reaction the moment he walked through the door. But he brushed it off.
"Okaay… Well I was late 'cause I was getting the good stuff," Mark explained, his frown replaced by a grin as he pulled out a beer from the bags he was carrying.
"Let's goooo!" Jaemin yelled, returning from the kitchen right on cue as if he some sort of alcohol detector. He eagerly snatched the bags from Mark and made a kissy face to the boy.
The tension eased a bit with Jaemin's infectious enthusiasm, and you decided to not focus on whatever Mark was making you feel right now. The drinks were here, and the good times were about to roll. You made a mental note to sort out your feelings later.
~
Alcohol definitely did not make your situation better. The more you drank the harder it was to keep your thoughts at bay. Mark was now sitting on the single couch in front of you and every little expression or movement he made had you either biting your lip or pressing your thighs together.
Talking about thighs… the shorts he was wearing displayed his muscular legs in a way that was making it quite impossible for you to not devour them with your eyes. God, your brain had turned into that of a hormonal teenage boy. Were you seriously staring at his thighs and imagining how it would feel to ride them?
Haechan came over to you and filled your glass with more Soju. You downed it as soon as he was done pouring it, earning you a weird look from Chenle who had been eyeing you ever since Mark arrived. 
"Okay, what's with you?" Chenle mumbled, the words escaping his lips just loudly enough to capture everyone's attention. Considering you had the noisiest group of friends, all eyes turned your way, including Mark's.
Mark seemed to be getting tipsy; you could tell by the way his big, expressive eyes shimmered even more than usual and the faint blush that adorned his cheeks and neck.
"Hmm?" you managed to reply, your gaze still fixated somewhere on Mark's face. You were completely unaware of the intense amount of attention you were giving him, but Chenle, who was relatively more sober than both of you, picked up on it.
"You're literally looking at Mark like you want to eat him," Chenle chuckled, teasingly calling you out.
"Yeah, what's up with that?" Renjun asked, suddenly intrigued by the topic.
"I am?" you replied, sounding genuinely confused, though your heart raced with thoughts you were about to voice out loud. "Uhm… yeah I kinda do..."
An audible gasp followed, and you knew without looking that it came from Haechan.
Mark's expression remained unreadable, his half-lidded eyes locked on yours, revealing no discernible emotions. Was he weirded out? Normally, you might have felt self-conscious about blurting out something like that, but alcohol had significantly lowered your inhibitions.
"That's a wild thing to say," Haechan interjected with a mix of shock and amusement. "Do you actually wanna tap that?" He pointed at Mark, who was still gazing at you.
"Very much so," you replied nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather, even though you were openly talking about hooking up with your best friend in front of all your other best friends.
"Why don't you come here then?" Mark's words caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but notice the way he shifted, his legs spread invitingly.
You burst into laughter assuming he was only joking to tease you. However, the lack of a reaction from him made you realize he was dead serious. Your eyes locked on his own, reflecting the same desire you had been giving him just moments ago.
The idea of getting up and walking to him, straddling his lap, and kissing him flashed through your mind.
But the moment was interrupted by a voice that snapped both of you out of your trance. "Gross!" Jisung whined, hiding his face in Jeno's back, the older one lazily laughing and patting Jisung's thigh. "Okay, c'mon, I think we've all had enough to drink," he declared, getting up, with Jisung clinging to him. Chenle follow suit also giving you two a slightly disgusted stare.
"Yeah, one more drink for me, and I'm afraid the kimchi jiggae I had earlier might end up all over the carpet," Haechan chimed in, rubbing his stomach before disappearing upstairs.
Renjun also stood up and playfully messed up Mark's hair while saying, "By the way, happy birthday."
You glanced at the table clock and realized it was already 12:01. You had been so excited about Mark's birthday earlier in the day, but the alcohol and the tension between the two of you made you totally forget about it. Gathering your courage, you approached him. He remained sprawled with his legs out, but now he looked up at you, his lips slightly wet, distracting you momentarily.
"Happy birthday, silly," you smiled and awkwardly patted his head, hoping he didn't notice how you pressed your thighs together, trying to ease the uncomfortable ache between your legs.
"What did you get me?" he suddenly asked, and you blinked a few times, your brain struggling to register the extremely flirtatious tone he used.
When you didn't respond immediately, he continued, "Because I can think of one thing I want the most right now," lightly grazing your leg with his hand. You didn't flinch or move away.
"R-really? What is it?" you found yourself stuttering, a reaction that would have made you cringe if you were more sober.
"Come here, and I'll show you," he smirked and with little protest from you, he pulled you onto his lap.
a/n: i have a smut scene ready for this (well it’s in my brain but I’ll squeeze it out if u guys want that second part) soooo comment or simply like this so i know the audience wants it
also yes i did change the title of this but pls disregard that lol
© hyuckiefluff
part 2
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genacity · 11 months
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Hi there 🫢
So I just had to write a letter… and I had to put it in an envelope (obvi) and it was one of those envelopes that you have to lick to seal.
Now imagine Scaramouche being ur roommate, and he sees you lick the envelope and his thoughts run WILD
I had to share this cuz idk 💪
🎐anon
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nsfw / suggestive scaramouche & the envelope; ANON THIS IS CRAZY WHY ARE YOU SO SMART
i am literally shaking. your last request was so good but this one takes it all 💯 HOW DO YOU THINK OF THESE THINGS
i was thinking of making this an entire fic by itself but i have other drafts i need to clear so you get whatever the hell this may be sorry 😰
you and scaramouche had been roommates for a few months now. he wasn’t the sweetest person in the world; but he payed his share of the bills, had a stable job, and had contributed to the house enough to be able to label him as a decent roommate.
the both of you never seemed to bother each other very often unless it was about the house. maybe the occasional “good morning” or “see you later”, but other than casualties, you never seemed to speak much.
maybe that was why you didn’t expect today to be so different than the rest. today, you had to head down to the post office to send a thank you letter to one of your family members. you had just graduated college recently and since they had send flowers and some money to “treat yourself” (you knew it would just go towards taxes anyways), you concluded that it would be basic courtesy to send a card back at the least.
you stood over the kitchen counter writing out the last of your letter to your extended family. your wrist ached with fatigue as you signed your name next to the love at the bottom of the card and put the pen aside, reaching over to the envelope you had put next to you.
scaramouche walked into the kitchen past you to slide a mug under and press a few buttons on the coffee maker. “what are you doing?” he had asked, the buzzing of the machine behind him making you lick your teeth to hold back the outward cringe. ‘that coffee maker must be old,’ you thought. ‘we should buy a new one soon.’
“just writing a letter.” you said flatly, picking up the envelope and turning to face scaramouche to engage in small talk.
scaramouche raised his eyebrows. “to who?” he inquired. you blinked and looked around for a moment; never had he held a conversation out with you for this long. this was definitely a first. “just some family that came to my graduation.” you murmured, lips occupied as you brought the envelope in your hands to your tongue to lick the seal.
you stuck your tongue out to glide it across the sticky part at the top, the taste of plastic lingering as you wet the seal. your eyes were too focused on the envelope to assure you didn’t cut your tongue (it’s happened before) that you didn’t notice the growing expression on your roommate’s face.
scaramouche’s eyes widened at the sight of your long tongue extending from your lips, carefully licking the adhesive and sealing the letter shut. his lips parted slightly, chest heaving with heavy breaths as his grip against the counter behind him hardened.
he could only stare, frozen in place as you finished the letter off with your stamps of choice and signing the address on the front. you said something to him, but he couldn’t hear you; the only thought in his mind your tongue and what it could do to him.
wait— what? what the hell was he thinking? you were his roommate; just some lowlife he shared an apartment with. but as much as he bashed himself internally, the image of you bending him over this counter right now, using that careful tongue of yours to please him was all he could see. vision foggy as his lips pressed themselves into a line, the sound of the coffee machine behind beeping snapped him out of his thoughts.
“scaramouche, hello? have you seen my—” “no!” he snapped, snatching the mug from the machine and rushing off to his room. your eyes trailed him confusedly. what was wrong with him? matter of fact, what was wrong with you?
you watched him rush away, eyes falling to the evident bulge in his pants before he slammed the door of his bedroom.
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unangelic-thoughts · 2 months
Text
Imagine this: jealous! rafe when you’re ward's personal assistant
[A few notes: 1. Rose doesn't exist in this AU. 2. This is a really rough draft, literally just wrote it and posted it so haven't had a chance to proof read it but I was honestly so desperate that I just had to write somethinggg 3. I hope you can pleasurably indulge in the same way I just did imagining this? :)) <33 love y'all with the same filthy minds as mine)] *spoiler alert* you fuck them both xoxo
you've been spending a lot of time with ward, working from the office and his home since you got the job as his personal assistant nine months ago
he's always made it clear that you're welcome to help yourself with anything in the kitchen or have a dip in the pool
one hot day you decide to take advantage of that and bring your swimsuit to his house
after finishing up on important but boring paperwork, you ask if you can take a dip and ward is more than happy about it
you swim as he sits at the edge of the lounger, talking to you about the new partnership deal he's working on
you notice the way his eyes flick down to your breasts, it makes you feel good, he's a handsome man after all
you plead with him to join you in the water, but he declines despite the evident want in his eyes so you splash him, egging him on
the glass doors swing open and out comes rafe, his arm around a pretty girl's shoulders
he's surprised to see you, especially with so much of skin on show and with his dad right there as if this is a completely normal and professional occurence
but then again, since when has his dad ever cared about professionalism anyway?
he only looks at you once, making a point to not let his eyes wander to you again
you watch as him and his dad make small talk and then him and his girlfriend(?) are gone
unbeknownst to you, rafe heads to his room and peeks at you through his blinds
he watches as you step out of the pool, water dripping down your breasts and thighs, it gets him real hard
that is until ward wraps a towel around you, his fingers caressing your shoulder and all rafe wants to do is yell at him to not touch you
you can feel someone's stare but as you look up to where you think it's coming from, he swiftly steps away and walks up to the girl he brought home, eva, and kisses her fiercely - wanting to block out any thoughts of you
at the company event, a week later, he doesn't fail to notice his dad's hand on your lower back or the way he leans a bit too close to you when you talk
it infuriates him every time you direct that sweet smile of yours towards ward. that should only be for him, no one else and especially not his dad
he corners you later that night as you walk out of the bathroom stall
it takes you by surprise, his broad chest right up against you as he looks down at you
"you should be more careful" he says
"careful?" you frown in confusion
"of my dad. he's not a good man" his hands rest on his hips
you stare up at him with doe eyes, a chuckle escaping your lips "oh really?"
"he's dangerous. a pretty, innocent girl like you shoudn't be getting involved with men like him" rafe looks you up and down, taking in the shortness of your dress
"and what type of men do you think I should be involved with?" you ask, a smirk on your lips
he raises an eyebrow as if to say 'isn't it obvious?'
at that, you laugh and roll your eyes
"you know, people would say that you're the dangerous one" you state honestly
his right hand reaches up to stroke your cheek "not with you. i would protect you from anything bad"
"that's really sweet of you" you say sarcastically
"but i don't need protecting" you shove him and walk past him to join the others outside
unfortunately for rafe, seeing him so jealous of you and his dad only makes you want to provoke him further
so you do what any other innocent girl would do
you get his dad to fuck you on rafe's bed just as he comes home from his late night gym session
ward is ecstatic about it, because 1) he's wanted to shove his cock inside you from the moment he saw you in that tiny bikini and 2) he knows that him and rafe have grown apart and what better way to bond than getting to share the same hole?
you're on all fours, your hands fisting rafe's fresh bed sheets as ward pounds you from behind
rafe walks in and as soon as his gaze lands on the two of you, he drops his gym bag on the floor with a thud
you and ward both turn to look at him, continuing to fuck as if there's been no interruption at all
rafe is absolutely seething with anger "what.the.actual.fuck?" he asks through clenched teeth
"hey son! are you joining in?" ward asks in the same way he would ask him if he wanted to play golf
"a-are you fucking kidding me right now?" his hands are fisted into balls. if this were a cartoon, he'd have smoke coming off his head
"i'm really not. as the saying goes, sharing is caring. what's mine is yours, son" his dad replies with a sweet smile on his lips
rafe's cold gaze turns to you then "and you're okay with this?"
you nod innocently at the same time as ward says "it was her idea in the first place"
rafe stands by his door in shock but you're staring to lose your patience
"rafey, baby, can i please have your cock? please?" you plead just as ward hits your sweet spot and you gasp in pleasure
he fucks you harder as you stare into rafe's blown pupils before involuntarily shutting your eyes, feeling yourself reaching closer to your orgasm
a moment later rafe's ripped all of his clothes off and lays on his back on the bed next to you
you open your eyes when he forcefully grabs your arm so that you're now straddling his lap, causing his dad's cock to slip out of you
you don't get to miss the sensation for long however, because rafe brutally shoves his girthy shaft inside your swollen pussy
your hands go onto his chest to steady yourself, feeling his defined pectorals
ward spits on your ass and slowly buries his dick inside your second hole
it makes you want to scream, but you bite down hard on your lower lip
they thrust into you in unison, you have never felt this full, never felt this kind of bliss
rafe takes your tits in his hands, then brings each nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking them with his tongue
you're so close, so so close
tears fall down your face at the overwhelming sensations in your body caused by the two men
rafe notices, looking concerned and asks if you're okay as his hands cup your face
you nod, "just keep fucking me, please. don't stop"
relief washes over his face and he kisses you deeply but softly, a complete contrast to how he's splitting you open
you kiss him back, your tongues dancing together
ward places two digits on your clit, it makes you whimper in rafe's mouth
and as they both frantically slam into you with their hands all over your body, you come completely undone
your body convulses between them and your legs begin to tremble
you're soon overstimulated by it all but they keep going
they thrust in and out, in and out, as you squirm, completely trapped between their two bodies
before you can register any of it, warm cum fills up both of your holes at the same time
they grunt in unison and you ponder at how similar father and son really are
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reaveries · 1 year
Text
▬  𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲
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gif credit to @robpattinsongifs (much higher resolution on their account)
summary: late-night visits from your definitely human boyfriend
pairings: edward cullen x fem!reader
word count: 1.6k (approximately 7 minutes reading time)
a/n:  I’ve had this baby marinating in my drafts since January, when I was going through my bi-annual Twilight Renaissance. I was actually in the middle of writing a RE2R Leon Kennedy fic today and decided to put on a twilight playlist, and then I just knew I had to finish this one. It’s my first *published* non-RDR fic heehee (I have so much in my drafts, it’s insane). Anyways, enjoy (pardners)!
masterlist archive of our own
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It’s that dreadful time of year again. 
The sun is making its curtain call as students from the nearby elementary school trip over themselves running home. Little girls and boys have sticky remnants of lunch peeking from the corners of their mouths and the grass is still slick from morning showers. But dusk is impatient in February, and its eagerness is encouraged in a town hidden beneath perpetual overcast nine months out of the year.
The school children ran past her window minutes ago when the sky had been painted brilliant indigo. Now, when she looks up the only thing left to see is her own dark reflection and the warm orange glow from a candle on the sill. Its tall flame stutters, collapsing and rising with the damp breeze. 
A page turns, disrupting the otherwise quiet room. The only other noise that can be heard is a soft pitter of water dripping onto the floorboards from a coat hanging off the closet door. 
She reaches for a mug sitting on the corner of her nightstand and promptly sets it back down upon finding it empty. It returns to its spot atop crumpled receipts and library hold slips belonging to the growing stack of books accumulating dust at her bedside. These books tower over the permanent nightstand residents: lazily discarded beaded necklaces, a sample bottle of floral perfume from Christmas, two little ceramic bunnies purchased from an antique mall in Port Angeles last summer, car keys, and drugstore chapstick. It might be worth convincing her to let go of some of these post-object permanence discoveries, but that is a matter for another time.
In a desperate attempt to comprehend the words she’s reading, she rolls onto her back and extends her arms straight in the air so the book hovers a foot from her face—a change of perspective to freshen the mind.
It does not help. 
No matter how much she shifts or squints, the antiquated prose remains stubbornly uninviting. She can’t fathom why anyone would willingly subject themselves to something so archaic and convoluted and furthermore, recommend it as one of their favorite novels.
With a huff, she adjusts the headphones at her ears, hoping the music will clear her mind. But despite her best efforts, the book slowly drifts closer to her chest and her eyelids grow heavier as the music lulls her into a dreamless sleep. 
When she wakes to cold fingers grazing her jaw it’s impossible to tell whether she’d fallen asleep or if she just blinked. The weight of the headphones gently disappears as they’re pulled off and set down on the nightstand. She grumbles incoherently and stretches out her legs, not unlike a cat after a long, difficult day of lounging around. Her eyes begrudgingly flutter open and immediately find him only inches away. He’s watching her, peering down with a twinkle in his amber-colored eyes.
“Edward…” she whispers.
“Dracula,” he says, eyebrows raised as he makes the observation. “I thought you didn’t like Gothics.”
She reaches a finger into the book on her chest and folds the page over before tossing it carelessly into the sea of knitted and quilted blankets at the foot of the bed. With the haze of sleep still clouding her eyes, she smiles sheepishly up at him.
“I’m trying.”
He chuckles lightly and brings his hand to her hair again, brushing stray strands off her forehead and tucking them behind her ears before leaning down to place a chaste kiss above her eyes. Though his lips are soft, the icy touch of his skin sends a shiver down her spine. He’s always cold; a result of his anemia, he says. However, the downpour that's dampened his hair and clothes to his skin has chilled him even more so.
In an effort to sit up, she raises herself onto her elbows and catches a glimpse of the bright red digital numbers on her bedside clock.
“You’re late, you know,” she chides, watching him settle uncomfortably at the head of the bed. He sinks down among the pillows, their plushness contrasting humorously with the stiffness of his demeanor. He reaches behind his back and tugs free a stuffed rabbit lodged between him and the headboard, then sets it down softly beside himself.
“I had to make a quick stop. I hope you can forgive me,” he says in a hushed voice, so as not to make too much noise in the resting house. His eyes flit towards the nightstand and she follows them to see a new item sitting amongst the disorder. A tall styrofoam cup with steam rising thinly from the lid. Coffee. 
The mug she just finished sits right beside it. She’d considered brewing more but that was before being rendered unconscious by Bram Stoker nearly an hour ago. Her heart swells at his thoughtfulness, but a more pressing question comes to mind before she can voice her gratitude.
“How did you even climb up here with that?” She asks, reaching for the cup with both hands.
“I’m very…agile.” There’s a look in his eyes that tells her there’s more to it, but she chooses to ignore it for now with a shake of her head.
The taste is immediately harsh, significantly more bitter than how she makes it herself. Any trace of a smile dissipates and is replaced with a pronounced look of disgust.
“Good God, Edward,” she exclaims. “Decaf? What did I ever do to you?”
He laughs and takes it from her hands, leaving her still reeling from the unexpected taste. “As much as I love staying up with you, you need sleep,” he says, a hint of sternness in his voice. “You didn’t get any last night and you don’t hide it well.”
He says the last part sweetly, tilting his head to the side and following her motions with his eyes, watching her pick up the stuffed rabbit by its cotton paw.
“Don’t hide it well?” She repeats, the indignation in her voice contrasting with the softness of the toy as she raises it high into the air and brings it down against his chest with a soft thud. “Well maybe I wouldn’t have to hide anything if you—weren’t—keeping—me—up—all—night!”
With every word, the rabbit hits his forearms poorly attempting to shield himself from the blows. Edward grins as she attacks him, the soft toy barely making a sound against his arms. He watches as her hair falls across her face in the midst of the unrelenting attack, the warm glow of the candle casting a soft halo around her.
But then, his amusement fades as he sees the exhaustion in her eyes. 
He gently takes the rabbit from her and sets it aside before grabbing her arm mid-swing and pulling her into his chest. She sighs heavily and surrenders, relaxing against him. "I’m sorry," he whispers, his lips brushing against her hair. “I’ll let you rest tonight.”
Despite his tender words, a residual half-baked frustration lingers inside her. “How did you manage to stay awake in class?” she mumbles into his sweater, the words muffled. “I mean, you didn’t get any sleep either.”
He chuckles, as if privy to some inside joke.
“Well, someone had to take your notes for you,” he says, his fingers trailing through her hair in a soothing motion. “And besides, you looked so peaceful drooling away.” 
She looks up at him, a hint of a drowsy smile playing at the corners of her lips. “I did not drool,” she insists.
He grins down at her, his eyes alight with fondness. “Of course not.”
She groans and buries her head into his chest, to which he responds by encircling his arms around her waist and pulling her closer.
“I’m never falling asleep in front of you again,” she grumbles.
His chest rumbles beneath her cheek as he laughs. “Alright, angel.”
He shifts his hand from the crown of her head to the curve of her back, tracing languid circles over the fabric of her t-shirt as the room fills with a comfortable silence. The rain outside grows heavier, tapping against the glass with a more insistent force. Her body is warm against his and he can feel the steady thumping of her heartbeat as if it's his own. A few minutes slip by, and he senses her breathing even out and deepen. Without disturbing her, he reaches for a nearby blanket and drapes it over her, then turns his gaze to the candle on the windowsill.
“Sweet dreams,” he whispers, as the dwindling flame fades out of focus. 
This is his favorite part of the day.
Vague arrays of soft, muted hues and shapes swirl around in his vision, overtaking the warm surroundings of her bedroom. They morph into recognizable figures after some time, and he can hear them speaking when he focuses. For the most part, they sound as if he’s underwater and they’re conversing on the shore. But every now and then, a clear phrase emerges.
Suddenly, the floating shapes assimilate into a figure resembling him and he realizes what this dream is. It’s a recurring one he’s particularly fond of. He settles in and pulls her closer as the scene ebbs between reality and distortions of the unconscious mind. 
He can’t remember how he used to pass the night hours before he met her. Books, records, films--looking back, they feel hollow compared to nights spent like this. Part of him hopes he’ll never know what it's like to want for this. But these dreams, and her thoughts in the waking hours, assure him he won’t ever have to find out.
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fiveht · 2 months
Text
Proof of life (Adore pt 3)
Hello my sweet angel babies ♥️
I'm not going to be able to adequately express my gratitude for the steady stream of love (and concern, sorry) I've been receiving over the past couple of months. I'm so sorry I've been AWOL, it will definitely happen again. Because see, for me, I usually have to make a choice between social and creative fandom participation. My battery is small, and takes a long time to charge.
Thank you to everyone who's left comments and asks and DMs since I've been gone. I don't think I can respond to all of it, but rest assured those messages ping my cold, dead heart every time I see them.
So I'm gonna go out on a limb here. I did this same thing months and months ago, when I was working on Head Over Feet, and let me be clear: posting even a single word of a WIP goes against my every instinct and principle as an author. I am someone who likes to finish an entire story before I post any of it, and on top of that, I am NOT a fast writer, so the expectations that I'm setting up here might not be advisable. But I did it before and managed to finish the thing, and I want to give you guys something in exchange for being so unbelievably awesome, so here I am again.
This will probably be the only time I mention this story in public until it's finished and posted, and inquiries about my progress are unlikely to help with the writing process, I'm just saying. I reserve the right to change every last word of this before the final draft, and I also reserve the right to fall off the face of the planet and simply never finish it, as much as I will strive to prevent that from happening. Please be patient with me.
Anyway, here is my paltry offering to say thanks for the love: the (VERY rough) first ~1300 words of the third instalment of The Adventures of Soft Daddy and Danger Twink.
Sirius secures his handheld shower head to its holder at the edge of his clawfoot tub, and steps out carefully onto the bathmat. He shivers in the cool air outside the shower curtain; it's about twenty degrees below zero outside, so even if he could afford to run his ancient radiator at full blast, it probably wouldn't help much.
He dries himself off and checks his reflection in the mirror, turning his face this way and that as he tugs his hair out of the bun he'd piled it into to keep it dry during his shower. There's no need for makeup tonight, not when he's not even planning to put on clothes.
It's incrementally warmer when he steps out into the main room of his apartment. He gathers an array of splayed text books and notes from his bed and dumps them carelessly onto the couch, then closes his new laptop and places it delicately on the coffee table. It's the most expensive thing he owns, save for the Gucci backpack currently sitting in his wardrobe with a three-inch berth around it like his shoes and other bags might somehow contaminate it. It's weird owning rich-people stuff when you are still, objectively, broke as fuck.
He perches on the edge of his bed and sets his phone to charge, because his battery doesn't even last a day anymore, and he's going to need it this evening. He tucks it in next to his pillow and picks up his new toy.
The plug isn't much larger than the one he already has. A little longer, which is appealing, but no wider, so it shouldn't be a challenge to get it in comfortably. He disconnects it from its charger and hefts it in his hand, feeling the added weight from the electronics inside.
He picks up his phone, and hesitates when he sees the notification waiting for him.
Rieka: let's go out tomorrow
Rieka: the fact that we haven't been drunk since the term started is criminal
Rieka: we've had two chem labs and zero drinks
Sirius purses his lips, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. There's a fine line here, and he hasn't quite found it yet.
Me: got plans
Me: raincheck?
So complete avoidance is the best strategy, right?
Rieka: booooo 👎
He sighs, but at least she's not asking for an explanation. He opens a different conversation then, pushing all thoughts of Rieka Lupin into a tidy, sealed compartment, not to be opened during certain activities with a certain relative of hers.
Me: i'm ready
Me: are you in your office?
Daddy: Yup, I've got a few minutes
Daddy: Want me to call?
Instead of answering, Sirius hits the call button himself.
"Hey baby," Remus answers. His voice is already smooth and honey-sweet, and just from that, Sirius knows he's planning to lay it on thick tonight.
"Hi daddy," Sirius says with a smile. "Should I put it in now?"
There's a low chuckle over the line. "Are we feeling eager?"
"Always," Sirius says, laying back on his bed.
"Use the good lube I got you, it's gonna be in there a while."
He switches the call to speaker, and snags the bottle from his nightstand. "I threw out the old stuff, you've got me ruined for cheap lube."
"Only the best for that ass," Remus says, and Sirius can hear his smirk.
He gives the plug a liberal coating, running his fingers along its shape, his dick twitching just at the feel of the silky-smooth silicone, at the anticipation of what's about to happen. He spreads his legs wide, drawing one knee up to give himself easier access.
"Take it slow," Remus says, succinctly heading off Sirius' impulse to just shove the thing inside himself in one go. "Rub the tip against yourself, so you're nice and wet."
Sirius shuts his eyes as he obeys, sliding the slick end of the toy over his entrance. "Okay."
"Are you going to be a good boy for daddy tonight?"
"Uh-huh," Sirius says, teasing the very tip of the plug in and out of his hole.
"Tell me how."
"I'm not gonna touch."
"You're not gonna touch, and you're not gonna come."
"Yeah," Sirius says. His cock is starting to harden as his body tries to draw the plug inside. "Can I put it in, daddy?"
"Slow," Remus reminds him, "Slide it in nice and slow for me, baby."
Sirius catches his lip between his teeth and tries to push the plug in slowly, the way he knows Remus would do if he was here. 
The shower has left him relaxed and more than ready, and it's hard not to take advantage, just press the toy in to its limit because he can. But he's working on his patience -- under Remus' careful tutelage -- so he shuts his eyes and tries to savour it, the tease of the plug's rubber tip at his entrance, the slow stretch as he eases it past the slight resistance before he sighs, and his body eagerly accepts the intrusion.
"Mmmm," Sirius sighs as he settles the base of the plug flush against his entrance, shifting his hips and feeling the constant, dull pressure against his prostate.
"How's it feel?" 
"Good," Sirius says, splaying his legs out and just enjoying the pleasant fullness. It's been almost a week since Remus last fucked him, and that's just way too long. Christmas really spoiled him. He tugs the blankets up around him, because it's going to take some time before his body temperature is high enough to fight against the chill in his apartment.
"Have you tried out the settings at all?" Remus asks him, and Sirius picks up the phone, switching off speaker and holding it to his ear.
"No," he says, grinding his ass down against the bed to test the plug's reach inside him. "I thought you'd rather do the honours."
Remus hums, and Sirius hears the phone shifting in his grip. "I'm gonna turn it on, okay? Lowest setting."
"O--" Sirius stutters as the plug buzzes to life inside him, nestled snug against his prostate and sending little zings of pleasure down his legs. "Fuck that feels good. That's the lowest setting?"
"It is," Remus confirms. "Want to run through them all, see how high it goes? Or would you rather be surprised?"
"Mmmm, surprise me."
"Surprise it is," Remus says, and Sirius hears shuffling papers in the background as he prepares for his night class. Psychology 1001, Thursdays, 7-9:30PM. Two and a half hours of a lecture that Remus swears he's given so many times he could recite it in his sleep, so why not give himself something fun to focus on while he goes through the motions? 
Being privy to all of this brilliant, upstanding man's secret perversions is a privilege Sirius does not take lightly.
"You can turn it off from the app if you need to," Remus is saying, "Or you can call me and I'll switch it off. My phone's on vibrate, so I'll see it right away."
Sirius smiles to himself. "Got it," he says, though this is a rehashing of the rules that Remus had laid out when he'd brought the plug over last weekend. He'd called it a "late Christmas gift", as if he hadn't already given Sirius several thousand dollars worth of presents on Christmas morning.
There's more rustling over the line, the squeak of a chair. 
"Tell me again how you're going to be good tonight."
"I'm not gonna touch myself, and I'm not gonna come." The toy is still buzzing away inside him, making everything a little fuzzy at the edges. 
"Tell me why."
"'Cause daddy's in charge, even when he's not here."
"Good boy."
Sirius squirms with pleasure, his cock smearing a little drop of fluid on his belly as the toy hums insistently at his prostate.
"I have to head out," Remus says. "How do you feel?"
"Good," Sirius says, his abs tensing as he shifts his legs and the angle of the toy changes. "Excited."
"Me too," Remus says softly. "I'll talk to you soon, beautiful. Send me some pictures." With a low beep, the call disconnects.
215 notes · View notes
xoxoavenger · 1 month
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How to Break a Heart
pairing: Luke Castellan x Fem!Aphrodite!Reader
summary: Y/N's mother gives her a deadline on when she needs to break her first love's heart, but Y/N isn't in love. Luckily Luke has a plan to fool the goddess; they'll pretend to be in love, and Y/N can break his heart. But these plans never go accordingly.
word count: 4341
warnings: betrayal, no comfort but there is still fluff for most of it
notes: luke castellan has taken over my life i have like 9 drafts so we'll see how this goes (i'm always scared to post for a new character so any love is appreciated greatly)
part 2
masterlist
"How did it go?" Luke asked as Y/N walked out of the Aphrodite cabin. Her mother had requested an IM with her, and Luke had waited outside for her. Y/N didn't look too happy, but she never did after a talk with her mom.
"She thinks it's time." Y/N said, and as much as he wished he could read her mind, he had no idea what she was talking about.
"For what?" He asks, following as she begins to walk into the woods. It's clear she just needs to be on a walk to be away from everyone else, but she's letting him tag along.
"She said it's an embarrassment that I'd become an adult and still hadn't broken my love's heart." She says. "But I haven't fallen in love with anyone yet, and I don't wanna break some innocent person's heart." She stops talking when they reach the river, sitting on the wet ground. He thinks about his pants real quick and then sits next to her, wanting to give her his support.
"She gave you a time limit?" Luke asks, knowing the answer. The Aphrodite kids didn't usually go on quests, but this was a quest of its own. She knew the gods couldn't resist making things more difficult.
"Yeah. Four months. As if I could fall in love with someone in that time, let alone here." She grabs a rock and throws it into the current, the splash barely touching them.
"Maybe you don't have to." Luke whispered, looking at her. She turned to him, brows furrowed as she rested her head against her bent knees.
"I don't think my mom is gonna let it slide any further than she already has. The truth is, I've been putting this off for years. She's wanted me to break some pour soul's heart for two years now. Every time she's visited me, it's always 'what about that Hephestas boy?' or 'that Apollo kid looks so nice now.' I don't wanna know what she'll do if I disobey." Y/N admits, taking a deep breath.
"That's not what I meant." Luke smirked, causing Y/N to frown.
"What are you talking about, then?" She asks, sitting up and looking at him face on.
"If we pretend that we're in love - I mean, put on a whole show that convinces the whole camp," Luke says it quietly, as if Aphrodite may be listening to them right now.
"Then I can 'break' your heart and please my mom without actually hurting anyone!" She says excitedly, watching as Luke nods. "You're a genius!" She cried, throwing her arms around Luke. She was so happy to have this weight lifted off her shoulders. He held her back, and it felt nice for a moment.
"So, what's the story?" Y/N asked, leaning back and pulling her knees up and leaning on them gently now, instead of hiding behind them.
"We just have to pretend to be dating. I invited you over here to ask you out, so we'll walk back to camp holding hands." He said it so simply, she just nodded.
"What about kissing? Won't they get suspicious?" She asked, making Luke chuckle.
"We can figure that out later." He told her, and she just nodded. "For now, we only have to convince our friends."
"And the olympians." She shrugged.
"Only your mom. The rest of them won't care." Luke told her, standing up. He reached out a hand to help her up, and she took it. He then switched hands to hold her's, interlacing their fingers. Y/N had held hands with many boys, being a daughter of Aphrodite, but for some reason Luke's felt different. She was holding the hand he used to fight with his sword, calloused but somehow smooth. She looked at him, and for a moment she wondered if this would work. It was crazy to lie to a god, even if the goddess was her mother. Could she really pretend to be in love and break his heart? Would they still be friends afterward?
Luke squeezed her hand and smiled, and she felt relief flow through her. If there was anyone who could pull this off, it was Luke.
"We got this." He told her, and she nodded.
They walked to camp, hand in hand, and Y/N knew immediately that this idea would work.
"Oh my God!" Her sister Silena called, immediately seeing Luke and Y/N. "Uh, I knew it!" And Y/N pushed down the urge to roll her eyes. She could have come out of the woods with anyone and Silena would have claimed to have seen it coming.
And just like that, everyone knew they were together.
For about a month, they got away with just hand holding, hanging out a little more than regular, going on a couple night walks. But on one of their night walks, Luke brought up what she had been thinking.
"We have to kick it up. If we want people to think we really fell in love in four months, we have to be inseparable." He told her.
"Silena has already caught on. We have to make it look like we got caught doing something." She had been thinking about it, not wanting to go there, but they both knew there was no way around this. They had to make it believable. Everyone had to believe them for this to work.
"The Hermes cabin." Luke nodded, but Y/N furrowed her brows.
"But your cabin is like, never empty." She told him, concerned.
"Anyone who finds us in the Hermes cabin will tell everyone immediately. And we will get found basically as soon as we're in there." He had definitely thought about this.
"We'll get in trouble." She tells him, looking to the side at the water.
"Us getting in trouble for getting caught in a cabin alone together?" He smirks, squeezing her hand. "Yeah, I'm sure your mom will be really angry." When she turned to him he was smiling, and she couldn't help but smile back.
"You're a genius." She almost kisses him, because that's what she would do in the situation, but then she remembered they're not actually dating. She was almost embarrassed, but then she realized.
"We can't do this without ramping our relationship up a bit." She tells him, and he thinks for a second. He turns to the trees, and the smile is on his face once more.
"The younger kids are watching." He whispered, making her blush. Of course their younger siblings would be watching their romantic walk. "If it's okay with you," He mutters stopping and turning to her. He takes her other hand. "I can kiss your cheek. Or we," She drops is hands and grabs his face, bringing his lips to hers. She knew they'd have to kiss in front of everyone sooner or later, and clearly Luke was freaking out a little bit. She felt his hands go to her torso, high above her waist but just a little below her bra line. It made her heart race just a little bit.
Their lips moved in tandem, much more than any first kiss she's ever had before. She forgot everything as one of her hands slipped from his face to his chest. One of his slipped to her lower back, the other going to the back of her head. They broke for one second to reposition, but for some reason it was too much for her. She curled her fingers into his orange Camp Half-Blood shirt and brought him closer once more. She could feel him smile as he curled his fingers in her hair to position her better.
All too quickly, they separated. Y/N blinked a couple times, trying to clear her brain.
"I think they got the hint." He tells her, and she could only stare at him and try to figure out what he just said.
"Yeah," She whispered, realizing he was talking about their rouse. Of course, the only reason they had kissed was to get the camp talking. "They'll definitely be talking about that."
She didn't want to think about how upset she was, or why she was upset. This was fake - everything with Luke was fake.
"We should head back before Chiron comes and puts us on probation or something." She said, watching him nod. She let him lead her back to her cabin, where he gave her a kiss and a wink outside her door.
She was in trouble.
~
The next day, they met up to watch the kids make friendship bracelets. Luke had already made a deal with Travis, and no one noticed when the two left.
"We have a couple minutes until everyone comes in." He tells her, and she nods. He walks over to his bed, the single one in the corner of the huge cabin. Y/N has never seen it completely empty, and when she looks around it seems too quiet.
"How do you wanna," She mutters, heart pounding. She's nervous, and it's obvious.
"Hey," His voice is quiet, and she looks over at him. "We don't have to do anything that you don't wanna do." His hand goes to her har, pushing her hair out of her face a little bit. She had to force herself not to look away.
"We have to." She mutters, a sad frown on her face. They both knew she didn't have a choice for this.
"But we can just get caught alone." He assures her, sitting back on his bed. Y/N stays where she is.
"No, it has to be more. We have to convince everyone." She is convincing herself too, that she has to do this. She doesn't go on quests, and this isn't even courageous. This is something her siblings do for fun. She can do it for her mother.
"Okay," He tells her, grabbing her hands. She's about to ask how they should be set up, but then there's footsteps on the stairs. Before she can think, she practically pounces on Luke. She's straddling him, pressing him against the bed. Their hands became untangled and his go to her waist, lower than their first kiss. She hears the door open, and her heart freezes.
What are they doing?
Before she can mess up the entire plan, Luke leans up and presses their lips together. She doesn't know what to do with her hands, just letting them hold her up while Luke's venture under her shirt.
"Oh my gods!" Y/N and Luke separate with wide eyes. They were planning on getting caught, but not by her.
"Annabeth?" Luke whispers, turning to see his sister in the doorway, hand over her eyes.
"Shit," Y/N curses, getting up. She realizes her shirt is all scrunched, so she pulls it down.
"What a weird camp." The kid next to Annabeth says. Y/N notices him for the first time, a short kid that looked like he was enjoying this drama. He has to be new, because she's never seen him around and definitely never with Annabeth.
"This is strange." Ananbeth crosses her arms and squints. Y/N feels like she can see right through them.
"Oh, Chiron is not gonna be happy." The kid says, smiling. Before Y/N can argue that neither of them would tell the centaur, he walks up behind them.
"That assumption would be correct, Mr. Jackson." She has to remind herself that this was the plan, that they wanted to get caught.
"Chiron," Y/N says, looking up at him as he walks into the wide door frame. Annabeth and the kid move to let him in, also showing Y/N and Luke the amount of people behind him, waiting to see the
"This is unexpected from you two." He says, and Y/N can feel herself second guessing this plan. She doesn't like to be scolded by Chiron. Luke grabs her hand as if he knew what she was thinking.
"We're sorry, Chiron." Luke started, taking a deep breath.
"But we're not kids anymore," Y/N starts, the confidence coming from no where. "And sometimes we need time on our own." She can feel everyone's eyes on her, including Luke's.
"We can talk about this in the Big House." Chiron was clearly peeved, but she knew he couldn't get that mad. Everyone knew why Luke and Y/N stayed even though they were the oldest campers; they would be dead in the real world.
"You're up to something." Annabeth says as everyone leaves.
"I'm always up to something." Luke smirks before looking at the new kid. "I'm Luke."
"I'm Percy." The kid says, looking over at Y/N.
"Y/N." She nods, a small smile on her face. She looked at Annabeth, who knew something was up. She had to ramp it up.
She put a hand on Luke's shoulder and kissed his cheek, squeezing his hand and leaving. It had to be enough for now.
~
As it turned out, Annabeth went on a quest a couple weeks later, so they didn't need to worry about convincing her. But Luke was practically sick with worry for her wellbeing, and Y/N wasn't much better. Her deadline was coming up, and she was actually dreading it.
She was enjoying Luke's presence, enjoying the touches and the attention. She knew it was her mother's powers making her feel this way, but part of it was just her. She actually looked forward to waking up and going to see Luke. She thought about the night that they had fallen asleep in the warm sand, his chest cushioning her head. His arms were around her, and when they were caught in the morning she didn't even care about Chiron's second warning. Luke had snuck them desert anyway.
It helped calm her down from worrying about the kids on a quest, the fate of which would in turn decide the fate of Camp Half-Blood. She hated the feeling of war in the air, the campers fighting. Luke's comfort helped that situation as well. He would always grab her close, making her anxiety calm down and her mind quiet. She had taken to hanging out with him away from everyone's eyes, aside from plans to get caught. They would lay in the strawberry fields, looking at the clouds. Sometimes she would fall asleep, giving away the fact that she couldn't sleep in her own bed at night. As soon as Luke realized this, he made the Aphrodite cabin swear to secrecy when he would sneak in. They were great at keeping secrets when it helped their sister's love life, and her health. She had gotten so used to Luke sleeping in her bed, it was weird to think there was a time when he wasn't.
The first time it happened, she had almost jumped out of her skin.
It was right before the kids left, when everyone started to get uneasy about the Lightning Bolt. She had made a random comment that day when her and Luke were sitting on the dock, because she was too tried from her lack of sleep. They had been 'dating' for two months now, and even before she would tell him these things as his best friend. She had almost fallen asleep with her head resting against his shoulder, and he had shaken her awake. She stumbled to her cabin, not even wanting to tell her siblings about the night, but she couldn't sleep.
Everyone knew she had problems sleeping, so they tried to be as quiet as possible. They let her keep her window open, even though it dried their skin. And though her body was absolutely begging her to sleep, her mind wouldn't turn off.
She jumped out of her skin when she heard Luke's low voice.
"Thank the gods your window is already open." She shot up, heart racing. She looked over to see Luke climbing in. "And also thank the gods you live on the bottom bunk." His voice was so quiet she could barely hear, but at least she knew her siblings wouldn't hear. She knew they would never tell Chiron, since they loved a good relationship.
"What are you doing?" She asked, eyes wide and a smile playing on her face. His scar shown in the moonlight as he sat on the windowsill, taking off his shoes. He handed them to her, and she put them down gently on the ground before lowering himself down on her bed.
"I'm gonna help you sleep." He told her, looking at her in a way that made her heart race just a little. Even in the little privacy, where no one could see them, he was caring for her.
"You don't have to." She turned her head down, feeling self conscious in her bonnet. He smiled at her.
"I want to."
The two settled in, Y/N lifting up the covers for Luke to come under. They switched positions so she could sleep next to the wall, his arms around her immediately. She felt so secure and safe in his arms, more relaxed than she had felt in weeks. He settled his face against her head, giving the softest kiss to her forehead. So soft she was questioning it as her mind drifted away.
When she woke up, she was in his arms. The sun was up, and it was much later than she had woken up in the past month.
"Tell him I went on a walk. And she's sick." Luke was whispering, his voice rumbling in his chest that Y/N was laying against. Given the small size of the bed, they were entangled. Her legs were fused with his, her torso stuck between the wall and Luke's body. Her hand was entangled into his sleep shirt, and she didn't untangle it because that would have given up that she was awake. And she wanted to stay like this a little longer.
And she was enjoying the warm light and the nice morning.
"You know he'll come in here anyway." A boy was saying, but Y/N didn't want to listen. Without thinking, she rubbed her face into Luke's shirt, trying to get more comfortable. She rubbed a leg against his, shifting and sighing.
"If you wake her up," Luke's voice sounded venomous, and it made her start to smile a little. Her head felt so light but also so heavy in a good way. She didn't think she could feel that way.
"Fine, I'm gone." The guy said, and Y/N heard his footsteps walk away. She stretched for a second, settling down so that her leg was thrown over his and she was more on top of him than against the wall. Her hand relaxed, still holding onto his shirt but not as tightly.
"You awake?" Luke whispered so quietly for a moment he didn't think she heard him.
"No." She said quietly, feeling her breathing even out.
"Alright." He brushes his hand against her back, soothing her even more. "Let me know when you're awake."
~
All the Aphrodite kids were working overtime to make sure that Chiron never found out that Luke was sneaking into the cabin and also to keep the Hermes cabin from snitching. And also from keeping the harpies from killing Luke. 
It was a full-time job. 
They usually slept in Y/N's bunk, because her siblings just wanted her to be happy. They all knew that she was supposed to break someone's heart, but they tried not to talk about it. No one else knew about the deadline. 
"Can you tell me how you got your scar?" Y/N asked one night, tracing the mark as they laid in bed. She had been getting so much sleep with him that she was able to stay up a little bit with him now and whisper low enough that no one else could hear.
"You don't wanna hear about it before it before you go to bed." He whispers, eyes going dark and hand grabbing hers, stopping her from touching it. Her heart drops, and she feels like a little kid scolded. 
"You never told me." She mutters, not wanting to push but wanting to know. They'd gotten so close now that she wanted to know everything about him before she no longer had an excuse to be around him all the time. 
Oh gods, how was she going to sleep without him? 
"You're already overthinking." He whispers, and she just huffs and tries her hardest to turn from him while his arms are around her and she's also stuck between him and the wall. For a moment she thought about throwing herself over him and getting up, just to prove a point, but she knew that was taking things a little too far. 
"I just wanted to be there for you like you are for me." She knew that didn't have nightmares like most demigods did; at least, if he got them, he hadn't had any since he'd been with her. But she also knew no one could deal with everything on their own, and if he wasn't telling her, who else was he telling? 
"I'm okay." He tells her, settling in and making her start to get comfortable again. She stretched, leaned against him and let her eyes close, trying to forget about his scar. 
Something about the conversation rubbed her the wrong way. 
~
The kids returned and the war was avoided, and now Annabeth seemed to have her own relationship problems. It made Y/N relieved, then sad, because she remembered that her own relationship was fake. In a few short weeks, she would have to 'break' Luke's heart. But that was in the future, and she could put it off as long as she could. She didn't want to have to break his heart, because she had a feeling it would only break her's.
Everything had been going great until her mother showed up.
This time, it hadn't been an IM. This time, her mother was waiting for her in the strawberry fields where she was supposed to meet with Luke.
"Mom?" Y/N asked, not sure if she was seeing correctly. Her mother's beautiful face brightened, and Y/N just blinked. She had never met her mother in person.
"My favorite child." Her mother said, making Y/N's eyes widen. She thought Silena was her favorite child. "I am so proud of you."
"What?" Y/N had been planning on talking to Luke about their breakup tonight, but her mother thew her off.
"You've broken the most talented swordsman's heart! The pain, oh, it almost breaks my own heart." Aphrodite put her hands over her own heart, and Y/N just furrowed her eyebrows.
"But, I haven't broken Luke's heart yet." Y/N says, thinking about how weird Luke had been acting when he asked to meet her there. She thought it was about them breaking up, but what if it was something else. Could he tell that she had fallen?
"No?" Her mother looked genuinely confused. "I sense such distress, such a hole of love in his heart." Y/N had never seen a god confused, and she didn't like this.
"Something's wrong." Y/N muttered, flinching when fireworks began to be set off.
"Yes," Her mother said gravely, grabbing her daughter's hand. "I will help you find him and set this right." She said it as if Y/N was supposed to break his heart over the pain he must've been feeling. Before she could protest, her mother was teleporting her. She ended up in front of Luke in the forest, her mother no where to be found. Luke looked angry, his sword was pointing right at her. It was actually pressing lightly into her chest, which made no sense. Luke would never do that.
"Y/N?" He asked, eyes widening. The anger melted away a little bit, but he still didn't look like the version of him she knew.
"What are you doing?" She asked, watching him lower his sword but not his guard. His eyes caught on something behind her, and she turned.
Percy was standing there, eyes wide and scared. He had his own sword in his hand, arms lifted in defense.
"Get out of the way, Y/N." Percy said, sounding older than his twelve years. It scared her, seeing this kid forced to mature.
"What are you doing?" She repeated, turning back to Luke. His expression had hardened slightly, but it still wasn't as angry as he had been when she first showed up.
"You don't want any part of this." Luke's voice was deep and dark, and Y/N felt her heart drop to her stomach.
"What have you done?" She rephrased, eyes wide as the fear sprinkled through her body in cold waves.
"What I had to." Luke said, as if that explained everything. "The gods are against us. They need us, but they don't care about us. I mean, have you ever even spoke with your mom is person?" He was trying to use her, and it hurt her feelings.
"I just did." She said quietly, turning fully to Luke. "And she told me you were heartbroken." She reveled at the shock that washed over his face.
"She must have been feeling someone else." Luke answered, and Y/N just shook her head.
"Luke, please." She walked toward him, grabbing his free hand. "We had something. We were pretending to date but you can't tell me you were acting the whole time." She felt tears in her eyes now. "Luke, I love you." She whispered finally. Filling the silence was the wind in the trees, the distant sound of fireworks. But not Luke's voice. He stayed quiet for a moment.
"It'll pass." He tells her quietly, tilting his head.
He might as well have stabbed her, the words hurt so bad. Using her shock, he threw his sword up, and not even letting go of her hand he caught it the opposite way, using the bottom to hit her head and send her to the ground.
"Goodbye," He muttered as he let her hand slip from his, stepping over her to face Percy.
Y/N could hear the breaking of her heart as she let her eyes close. 
//
tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler
171 notes · View notes
httpswritings · 5 months
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The Great War — Katie McCabe x Reader
Additional info: Story inspired Taylor Swift’s The Great War. I’m in my Katie era, but I’m also planning on writing about other players, especially Alexia, which I have like four ideas to write about. We’ll see. I also have a draft of Ruesha x Katie inspired in Moth to a flame by The Weeknd, but I’m doubting about posting it or not. Maybe in the future I’ll write a Caitlin x Katie fic, but I don't have a clear vision of them yet to properly write about them.
Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, throwing up and therapy, sensitive topics overall, avoid reading if you find them triggering. Angsty Katie.
Word count: 1691
Right after Katie ended her relationship with Caitlin Foord, she met Y/N. After some time, they got into a relationship together. They enjoyed every single second of the magical connection they seemed to have. With the passing of time, Katie became more and more anxious about her relationship with Y/N. She doubted she could be what Y/N deserved, even though her girlfriend took her time every day to remind Katie that she's never been as happy in a relationship as she was with her.
«My knuckles were bruised like violets
Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked»
Two heartbreaks in such a little time, with both her Ireland National Team's member Ruesha and girlfriend of seven years, and her Arsenal's teammate Caitlin Foord, who was her girlfriend during half a year, made the Irishwoman insecure about her ability to love, to trust, to have a happy fairytale ending. Katie knew these thoughts would damage her relationship with Y/N, but she couldn't help but to spend most of her day tracking every single detail that built her relationship to the obsessive point where she felt absolutely sick of herself.
«Spineless in my tomb of silence
Tore your banners down, took the battle underground»
When she reached her limit, she told Y/N about what was going on. Y/N responded well and helped Katie, and it started well. Really well. But after some time, Katie fell back into a cycle of doubt and anxiety, and those sensations kept growing when she noticed any change in Y/N's mood, as she took it too personally. This made her re-experience in her mind those moments of stress while she was with Ruesha or Caitlin.
«And maybe it was ego swinging
Maybe it was her
Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur»
Y/N tried to understand her, she tried and tried but eventually, she reached her limit.
“I want to help you. I really do. But I can't continue like this. I'm not Ruesha, nor I am Caitlin. I am aware that being in a new relationship it's difficult for you, so maybe we should take things a bit slower. I don't mean to take a break, but maybe I should go back to my flat. We will move on slower than we did before, but I do think it's the only way to work it out.”
«All that bloodshed, crimson clover
Sweet dream was over»
“Yeah, maybe you're right´”, that was Katie's only response. Y/N limited herself to sigh. That night, Katie slept alone in her bed. Her body reacting to the cold sheets and crying herself to sleep.
«My hand was the one you reached for
All throughout the Great War»
Sweet morning messages from Y/N, “Good morning, baby. Do good at training today! Love you ;)”
Surprise visits from Y/N, lovely gifts, usually handmade ones, brought Katie to tears as she felt endlessly loved.
«Always remember
Tears on the letter
I vowed not to cry anymore
If we survived the Great War»
Katie prayed for things to get back as they were during the first months of the relationship. The feeling of her not being a good girlfriend to Y/N haunted her even in her sleep.
«You drew up some good faith treaties
I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone»
Y/N suggested going to a therapist together, but Katie was unsure about that. She thought that if she couldn't quite open to her girlfriend about her feelings and thoughts, she wouldn't be able to talk about what was bothering her to a therapist. Such a huge contrast between the two parts of the relationship that drew them even more apart.
«You said I have to trust more freely
But diesel is desire, you were playing with fire
And maybe it's the past that's talkin'
Screamin' from the crypt
Tellin' me to punish you for things you never did
So I justified it»
“No, I'm sorry, but I'm not doing this. I feel uncomfortable talking to a stranger about our issues.”
“I know, baby, I was just suggesting it. Let me explain you why. We are aware of having some problems in our relationship, but we don't really know how to get through it. We've tried and things keep getting worse. Maybe talking to someone who's out of our relationship can make this whole situation clearer for the both of us.”
«All that bloodshed, crimson clover
The bombs were close and
My hand was the one you reached for
All throughout the Great War
Always remember
The burning embers
I vowed not to fight anymore
If we survived the Great War»
Katie took some weeks to meditate Y/N´s idea. She was terrified of being judged by the therapist they would talk to. Even more scared of Y/N realizing she didn't do any good to her. Eventually, she agreed.
“Maybe she's right. People attend therapy sessions. It's normal, Katie. It's normal”, she said to herself.
«It turned into something bigger
Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed»
Katie was not new to getting help from a therapist. She was very open about her mental health in different areas of her life, whether that included football or not. The first time she attended a therapy session was when she was a teenager. It went well, so did the first sessions with Anna, Katie's and Y/N´s psychologist.
Making progress is not a linear process, and making mistakes is a part of the success. Mistakes are a victory in themselves, it means that you're still trying. One day, Katie had an individual session with Anna. Anna felt it was Katie's time to open about her two past relationships; a young adult romance that lasted for more than half a decade and a short but intense romance of one year after a breakup.
It was a slow conversation filled with many pauses from Katie.
“Are you gonna tell Y/N what I'm telling you?”
“No, Katie. This stays between me and you”, said Anna.
As Katie told her her experiences in love, she broke down.
The wall she had built, in order to avoid being hurt and judged, collapsed in that therapy room.
“Don't be afraid to cry. You have nothing to prove to me nor to Y/N. This is about you and your healing process. Y/N will help you and accompany you, but it's crucial for you to work on yourself, especially being a public figure.”
«Your finger on my hair pin triggers»
As Katie arrived home, she unlocked her phone and asked Y/N to come over.
“I've asked Anna, and she told me it was a good initiative and a great way of gaining some independence in our relationship, leaving her out of it for a while. Don't feel obliged to!”
“I am exhausted, baby. Work was something else today, and I’m a little bit irritated because of it, lol. Maybe another time? Love you.”
As Katie was about to spiral, she remembered Anna's advice. She breathed deeply. Y/N was setting her boundaries. She trusted Katie enough to tell her the truth and not to make any excuses. She felt tired from work. Y/N is not mad at her. She didn't do anything wrong. Everything’s okay.
«Soldier down on that icy ground
Looked up at me with honor and truth
Broken and blue, so I called off the troops»
The next day Katie woke up to a text from Y/N.
“Good morning, princess. I had a great sleep, what about you? How did you sleep? I’m up to seeing you today if you feel like it. Love you.”
Still slightly asleep, she smiled.
“I can't wait to see you today, beautiful girl. I had a good sleep, too. Good to have the bed all to myself ;))”
She frowned after sending the text with that joke at the end.
“Breath, Katie, let these useless thoughts pass. Both you and Y/N feel comfortable teasing each other”, said Katie to herself.
“Ha, ha, really funny. We both know you missed having me snoring next to you.”
“How do you know?!?!”
«That was the night I nearly lost you
I really thought I lost you»
As Katie was preparing herself to go out with Y/N to have lunch, she remembered the night where Y/N left her house.
She doesn't freak out to the thought of it, but instead she does an exercise of introspection. She sees herself in her mind, almost throwing up, completely emotionally depending on her girlfriend while pushing her away and bottling up her feelings.
«We can plant a memory garden
Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair
There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair
And we will never go back
To that bloodshed, crimson clover
The worst was over»
Now she looks at herself in the mirror. She sees herself, Katie, as the woman who knows that she's loved, and she's deserving of being it. The woman who respects her girlfriend’s boundaries and doesn't freak out at the tiniest change that she perceives. The woman who's going to take her girlfriend out to have a good time having lunch, not worrying about anything but what order she's going to have.
«My hand was the one you reached for
All throughout the Great War
Always remember
We're burned for better
I vowed I would always be yours
'Cause we survived the Great War
I would always be yours
'Cause we survived the Great War
I vowed I would always be yours»
As they arrived home back from the restaurant, Y/N walked towards Katie.
“I’m so proud of you, baby. You did this. You are doing it every day. I’m so excited to see where our relationship leads us to.”
As Katie sobbed, she softly laughed, “It’s nice to cry sometimes. God, I feel so relieved. I’m so proud of myself, too, of us! Thank you for being there for me, Y/N, thank you. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life as your girlfriend.”
“Even when you'll wake up to my snoring?”
“Especially when I'll wake up to your snoring.”
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shiny-jr · 10 months
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🕷 impersonator [ miguel o’hara ] 
– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.
– Note: It’s literally just a very small Miguel post to get it out of my mind. I’ve been wanting to write something with him for a while now, and I had a totally different draft with a whole story idea that would’ve lasted a few chapters, but ultimately I scrapped the whole idea and just decided to do something small. It ain’t much, but it’s honest work.
There was something wrong about being used to placate an unhinged man who called himself a hero. Maybe it was the passionate look on his anguished face whenever his red gaze was fixated on you, or the despair that seeped into his tone when he whispered sweet-nothings, or it was just your common sense that saw all the blaring red flags, but you knew this was wrong. Miguel may have declared to everyone that he was a good guy, a hero, quite possibly even to the point of deluding himself, but some of his choices were morally questionable, and criminal at best.
The glowing red sticky strings he used to form webs were probably stronger than the thin strand of what was left of his sanity. It must’ve been some sort of last-ditch effort by his fellow spiders to present you to Miguel O’Hara, perhaps to appease his growing anger and extremity. It’s like they had offered you up on a silver platter. You, who was shockingly similar to a loved one he lost in his own dimension. You were the poor pitiful bug caught in a spider’s web, with no hope to escape.
And at first, you hadn’t even realized your fate was sealed, you were already trapped. In your own dimension, he showed up. You knew Miguel, he was a scientist at Alchemax who was a bit of a nerd despite not looking like one, and he played soccer on the weekends. And yet, after months, you finally realized this wasn’t your Miguel.
Your Miguel would gladly partake in back-and-forths where you poked fun at each other, but that stopped and he began to give compliments to you of details he never once noticed before.
Your Miguel would peer at you through the lens of his glasses and smile while resting his head on the table, but he stopped wearing his glasses and instead he stared at you intensely while only smiling whenever your attention turned to him.
Your Miguel had brown eyes that looked like honey in the sun paired nicely with his pleasant smile, but recently his eyes looked almost red at night and when he smiled he displayed fangs.
On top of all this, he seemed to forget certain dates you had planned and sometimes the names of friends and loved ones escaped his memory. The first time this happened, for a split second, you swore you saw his expression drop and his eyes widen as an ominous frown appeared on his face. But when you blinked, his expression was back to normal, a relaxed smile on his lips. He brushed off his mistake and calmly explained that he remembers now, it just slipped his mind for a moment. Was it your imagination seeing that dark expression on his face, or was it real?
What was once fleeting affection with Miguel, like awkward glances where you accidentally made eye contact, or brief and shy kisses on the cheek, also began to change drastically. It all quickly morphed into something more intense. Gazes full of desire that glinted in those dark red eyes, deep kisses that you always stopped on the very point of no return, murmurs of promises to protect you that were said in a strangely solemn tone.
It became clear that something was wrong. The man you once loved wasn’t the same, as if he were a completely different person. This Miguel was not someone to be crossed. You would soon learn that once you confront him and claim to know he wasn’t your Miguel. Well, this Miguel had tried to smoothly integrate himself into your life. However, since that didn’t work, he could resort to other methods. Afterall, as Spider-Man, he had a reputation of being effective and forceful if need be.
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scmoobly · 7 months
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Wanna Be Yours | Bucky Barnes
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: Even months after Bucky had rescued you from HYDRA, you still had a separation anxiety that made you paranoid when he wasn't around. And so did Bucky.
Content: [bucky being unable to stay away from you] [Comforting] [minor pining for each other] [alluding to s³x]
Warning: Mild mature themes
A/N: first buck fic😍✋️That I'm posting anyways. Not saying my draft isn't full of horndog shit BUT PLEASE PAY ATTENTION THIS PART IS IMPORTANT. Please watch this bucky edit before reading. It'll give you a visual of this fic. I'll leave the link in the comments as well so it's easier to copy. Okay, enjoy ♡ https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNMdKCFQ/
Not proofread, Sorr :)
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"Bucky."
"Hmm." A low grumble echoed from the other end of the call, the familiar rattle of his metal arm easing the anxiety in your chest.
"I miss you."
"I'm working." He responded with the same monotonous effect. He'd been dispatched on a mission nearby, along with Natasha Romanoff only about 20 minutes ago.
She was a glorified babysitter that Steve had assigned to accompany Bucky just in case he got himself in trouble.
As grateful as you were that they'd helped Bucky save you from HYDRA, you weren't that well acquainted with the avengers to know their relationship with each other so the fact that you were left at the tower alone while Bucky was out with someone else just didn't sit well in your stomach.
"I miss you." You repeated mechanically into the phone. It was a habit hard to kill even though it had been months since you'd been freed from the shackles Pierce constricted you in. You were no longer a soldier, but it wasn't like you could just turn off or forget years of torture.
When there was no response, you opted to repeat yourself another time before he interrupted you. "I miss y-" "I know."
You heard a soft sigh from the other line, a few minutes of silence passing before it disconnected with a distorted click.
10 minutes later
The door to Buckys bedroom swung open, revealing you sitting in front of it with your legs curled up to your chest, the same inexpressive look in your eyes as they looked up at him.
"How long have you been sitting here?" His brows knotted, and his forehead creased revealing a hint of worry. "Since you left." You answered to which he could only respond with a deep exhale.
Bucky walked closer to you, crouching down to your level before gently sliding a few strands of hair behind your ear, his thumb caressing the skin of your cheek with caution.
Leaning into his touch came much easier to you than most things. Having Bucky close was your only source of comfort after he'd rescued you. His presence grounded you in a whole new world that felt like it was caving in around you.
A world where no one knew who you were but him, and you depended on him to not forget yourself.
"Let's get you to bed." Before you could say anything, Bucky had already hooked his arms around your body, lifting you up with almost zero effort. Your own found their way around his shoulder, eyes glued to his stone cold expression as he moved you nimbly over to the bed and set you down.
"Are you hungry?" He questioned further while reaching for the covers to which you'd responded with a light shake of your head.
"Just missed you." A low hum erupted from the depth of his chest.
Pulling the covers over your legs Bucky sat himself down beside you on the edge of the bed, leaning his back against the headrest before stretching his hand out in your direction, lacing his fingers through your hair.
Forget the Avengers. Your own relationship with Bucky was a mystery, if not anything else. One thing was clear, though. You were definitely not friends. At least you didn't want to be.
The years you'd spent being tortured and trained at HYDRA's base was something only he had the capability to understand. Naturally, your heart ran to him to seek any kind of empathy or comfort, but you'd both been wrung so tight that any sense of emotional sensitivity had been drained from you almost completely.
It took him a long a while, but he'd warmed up to the Avengers, finding his old best friend in Steve, a good companion in Sam, and a supportive team in everyone else.
However, it wasn't so easy for you. Bucky was all you had, and you'd worried your dependence on him in trying to fit back into society would someday become too much of a burden. The vehemence of your affection for him seemed to be concealed by the expressionless look on your face and the thought that he would someday choose to want someone who showered him with love unlike you.
Little to your knowledge, Bucky had his own apprehensions when it came to you. He'd thought being around the Avengers who'd protect you at any cost would make you feel more comfortable and safe. That it would help you open up.
That was the reason he had insisted for you to stay at the tower after the rescue mission. Well. Half of it anyway.
He couldn't stand the thought of you being alone the way he was, holeing up within the dark confines of his room. As hypocritical as it was, he cared too much to see you turn into the version of himself that he'd barely managed to escape.
You deserve to feel the warm flutter of happiness in your body. You, more than him. More than anyone.
That's why he'd rushed back to the tower halfway through his mission after you'd called, leaving Natasha to deal with the aftermath.
He could almost still feel the wind on his face from how harshly he'd revved the engine of the Harley Davidson Street 750.
"Bucky?"
You whisper softly while looking up at him, your doe eyes making him take in a deep breath. "Y-yeah?" He didn't realise how long he'd been staring or how close you'd gotten, your breaths mingling with each other, caressing the others' skin and sending shivers up and down his spine.
Close. Too close.
Too close not to do anything about it.
His metal arm that had been stroking your hair slid down to hook around the back of your neck, the cold vibranium thumb tracing circles on your jaw, and you couldn't help leaning into the touch, sucking in a breath, you closed your eyes in contentment.
"Bucky.." You purred, your cheeks filled with unfamiliar heat. Blushing? Bucky was making you blush.
Meanwhile, Bucky seemed to be awestruck as he blinked in disbelief. "You.. smiled." It was brief, a very small one, but he definitely caught it, and suddenly he couldn't think of anything more beautiful than the sight of it.
He wondered what it would take to see your lips tug upwards just a little more. To hear you laugh if he was lucky enough.
Buckys mind was clouded. Filled with the image of heaven that you'd graced him with, and suddenly he was closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to your own.
"Smile for me, doll."
Your eyes widen when his lips finally pressed against yours, knocking the wind out of you. However, it only took a few seconds for you to melt into the sensation. You had been craving it after all.
Your body began to curl up in an effort to be as close to him as possible, fingers grazing the outline of his stubble. A muffled whine slipped from your lips, causing Bucky to chuckle into the kiss before parting only slightly, an adoring look in his eyes. One you couldn't fathom was meant for you.
"Somehow, that was even better." He cooed, sliding his hand down your arm, the side of your body before resting on your hips, giving it a little squeeze.
"Come here, babydoll." He murmured with a feverish look in his eyes, using both hands to hold onto your hips and move you to straddle his lap. The pet names only served to make your ears burn hotter.
As soon as he'd settled you on top of him, you could feel how tight his pants had grown around him. Your chest heaved up and down as the alien feeling of arousal bubbled in your stomach and in between your thighs, making you squirm and let out little mewls.
"Shh, shh.. calm down, sweets. I have you." It felt like his lips had been taped into a smile. He wanted to ingraine the faces you were making in the deepest part of his thoughts. "I'm right here." He continued, leaning close to leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck, pausing at your shoulder to breathe in your scent before continuing down your collarbone, your arm all the way down to the back of your hand.
"You smell intoxicating. And you taste even better." Your breathe hitches for the millionth time. There was nothing you could think to say in response to his sweet words. Your silence was fine with him, though, because you displayed your innermost feelings on your face, and it was all he needed.
With both hands, he pressed your hips down onto him, eliciting a gasp from you. "Mm. And those delicious sounds you make. You must be an angel given human form because you make me feel like I'm in seventh heaven-" Bucky huffed out the last bit, his own chest heaving in anticipation.
You'd already showed him more emotions in that very second than you had the last few months you'd spent with him, and he was more than eager to explore what more he could pull out of you..
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Idle Hands
I'm clearing out my drafts, so please enjoy this super short one shot. I'm not all that happy with this, but I've been working on it for months, and if I kept working on it, it was never going to get posted.
Contains: Historically inaccuracy around coconut oil and rum, fluff, smut (P in V).
933 words
John gets bored on your spa vacation.
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When Tommy suggested you and John go to one of those new fandangled spa resorts by the sea to take a break from the rush and smoggy air of Birmingham, you knew it would be a change. What you didn't know was how bored you were going to be, one can only soak in the Grecian pool so much.
When you returned from your spa treatment, John was lying on one of the couches in your room, naked under the towel wrapped around his waist as he read the Birmingham Times, looking disinterested. You walked behind the loveseat and wrapped your arms around his body as he twisted himself to kiss you. He pulled back with a smile and took a deep breath. "You smell like that fancy rum we give to the Toffs at the Eden Club, the one from the Caribbean."
"Yes, I just spent the last hour getting a coconut oil massage." It was nice, but even a trained masseuse had nothing on John's strong, capable hands. You made the short journey around the seat and sat next to him, but he grinned and lifted you onto his lap. "What are you doing?"
His eyes filled with mischief as he placed his hand on your thigh. "I got lonely without you."
His calloused fingers grazed your inner thigh, his trigger finger the roughest as they slowly slid closer to the leg opening of your loose linen shorts. "I'm sorry, Dearest. You could have come with me. They did have a couples option."
He started running his fingertips up and down your leg, from your knee to just inside your shorts and back again, before letting out a sigh. "I'm bored shitless, love. There's nothing to do here."
You raised an eyebrow. "Nothing? I can think of a few things."
The way he grinned and tilted his head told you the game was on, and a bulge radially grew in the towel as he pulled you into a kiss. You couldn't decide whether to remove his towel or your shirt, and the room filled with laughter as your hands collided midair in the rush to choose. The towel fell away as the knot came undone, and a moment later, his hands found your bare skin.
He palmed your breasts as his lust filled eyes raked over your body. "You're so fucking beautiful." He pushed himself up and pulled you further onto his lap as his lips found yours with force, his teeth meeting your flesh as his hand moved to your lower back to press you to his hard cock. The kiss turned softer as his other hand made its way to your core.
He smiled into the kiss as his fingers ran through the mess between your legs. He swallowed your moans as he zeroed in on your clit and dug your nails into his ample bicep as your head fell against his chest. He was infuriating sometimes; his need to take his time and enjoy it like he was walking through an interactive art gallery made you far more desperate than you were willing to admit. "John, please, you had your fun this morning, have mercy on me."
His chest rumbled with a chuckle, and you fought the urge to sink your teeth into his plump lower lip as he brought his fingers down to your entrance. Just as you were preparing to protest again, he pulled his fingers away and grabbed his cock before rubbing it up and down your slit. "Well, hop on Love." He held himself steady as you slid down and settled into his lap.
You stayed still, adjusting to his size as one of his hands landed on your lower back while the other found your cheek. His fingertips brushed your cheekbone as you started to rock your hips, and his nose bumped yours as affection poured from his mouth. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest as he took over the pace and you buried your head in his neck as your nerves lit up like the night sky during a bomb run.
He hit his stride, and an inferno followed the path his hand made from your back to your clit as he rubbed it in tight circles while your breath caught in your chest. Your teeth found the junction of his neck and shoulder as the sparks of pleasure grew overwhelming while the steady pressure of his cock on your G-spot made your thighs twitch against his firm body.
He was grunting like an animal, snapping his hips up at the end of each stroke to kiss your cervix before pulling out almost all the way and starting again. Your nails dug into his skin and opened your mouth to warn him of your oncoming fall over the edge, but he already knew and took you in a searing kiss as he pushed you over it. Your world spun as you landed on your back and he folded you like a pretzel as used all his leverage to slam into you.
It was so much it almost ached, but just as you were about to try to beg for mercy between desperate breaths, you felt him pulse inside you, and his weight collapsed on top of you while his chest heaved and his hips stuttered with aftershocks. He took a deep breath, and you felt his lips fall all across your face in gentle kisses. "You right, Love?"
You nodded. "I'm great. Are you still bored?"
He chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, I'm great too."
Fin
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heartofwritiing · 4 months
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Safe with you
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paring: (siren) clinic!wilbur x fem!civilian!reader
summary: reader does stupid things to get siren’s attention.
author’s note: I am completely obsessed with siren. every couple months he works his way back into my brain and takes over. this is a little darker than my usual stuff so feel free to skip it, I just felt like trying to write something different for once. this is so shit. i found this in my drafts from a few months ago. i needed to post something so, throwing this at you enjoyyy 🫠
warnings: please read the warnings before reading. reckless regard for safety, suggestive content, unhealthy obsession, alcohol, stalker behavior (both reader and siren) no spoilers for the fic if you haven’t read it, if I forgot anything let me know, unedited!
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You knew it was wrong, so, so wrong. He was a villain, a terrible person in every way. but the small voice in the back of your brain told you otherwise. You couldn’t deny the pang in your heart that told you the opposite. For once your heart and brain were getting along on one subject.
It was late on a Saturday night. People on the upper east side of the city were out after another exhausting week of work. Getting drunk, laid, whatever.
Only a month ago it was a night like this you met him.
Wandering home late from a company party with coworkers at a bar. It was stupid to walk home alone, especially in this city. With all the criminals running rampant, and the heroes and villains getting into public brawls that caused city-wide damage, it was a wonder why anyone still lived in L’manberg. For many people, it was home, including yours. You never imagined living anywhere else, you grew up in this city, and it was all you knew.
A man had followed you for two blocks and you only noticed when you could hear his footsteps padding behind you. You had never been so scared of what this person might do to you. Trying to lose him by turning down a busy street, then getting turned around and ending up in an alleyway. The man had cornered you against the wall of one of the buildings.
Then he was being yanked away from you roughly. Another figure had appeared, dragging the man away from you before he could do anything. Scrambling away and mumbling incoherent words, he didn’t even look back twice. He ran and disappeared around the corner.
Allowing a shaking breath to pass your lips in relief, you began to thank whoever your savorer was when you finally got a look. He was tall, he dawned a dark trench coat and fingerless gloves. You caught the eye of the dark blue bandana that covered his eyes and it clicked in your brain. After watching countless news broadcasts it became clear and unmistakable who he was.
Siren.
Part of the supervillain group known as the syndicate, he was the most feared apart from The Blade and Zephyrus. The ability to control minds made him unpredictable. Unexplainably, he didn't seem to frighten you like the man who was following you. Siren's odd behavior fascinated you to a degree that since then almost every night you've skipped taking the bus and chosen to walk home alone in the dark. Determined to find him. It was foolish despite something inside giving you a rush to see him again.
For two weeks, you waited for him to show up and help you in dangerous situations. You got into trouble two more times, but each time you saw him, you felt better because you knew he would be there for you.
Tonight was no different. You had purposely gone into the bar with a mission to find the sketchiest man you could. Luckily, you didn’t have to look very far since there were creeps everywhere in this bar already giving you stares, licking their lips like you were an object, something they could take. It made your stomach turn, but you sat down two seats away from one guy who was drinking what looked like a rum and coke.
He eyed you up and down, his gaze lingering on your legs. You internally grimaced but kept your act up of seeming like you liked this man's attention. You ordered a drink and began to sip it slowly through the straw when a presence sat beside you.
A knowing smirk pulled at your lips, the plan worked.
after a about a minute of chatting the stranger put his hand on your thigh. bold move.
“what do you say we get out of here?”
So you pay for your drink, slip out the door with the stranger, taking off down the road as he pulls you into a dimly lit alley way.
He presses you against the rough wall of the building, hot breath fanning across your neck as he leans in. It makes bile rise in your throat the reeking smell of rum lingering on his tongue. He tries to whisper something seductive in your ear, it doesn’t even come close to being sexy. His words slur and his hands wander down your body.
Before you could try to push him off, he’s being yanked away in the blink of an eye and shoved to the opposite building wall with a grunt.
A tall figure stands tall over the stranger, and your breath hitches in your throat.
“We just keep meeting like this, don’t we sweetheart?”
Siren had the man from the bar pinned up against the opposite wall with a hand wrapped around his throat. You could practically see the creep's face shade growing purple by the second, Siren's knuckles white with his grip tightening, all while giving you a sickly sweet smirk that made your knees buckle.
The man from the bar was still struggling to breathe as you and Siren had your little exchange. You had completely forgotten his existence until he made a strangled noise. Your eye shifted over to him before they moved back to Sirren again.
"Please, don't hurt him, he didn't get the chance to do anything."
Without even looking away from your gaze Siren released the man as he slumped to the floor clutching his throat, sputtering out coughs. The guy had taken off before you could even blink.
Siren inched closer to you with a swaggering step that made your breath hitch. You could make out his features faintly through the glow of the street light casting against his jaw, handsome, just as you remembered him. Taking him in as he towered over you. His hair was longer than the last time you saw him, and a scar was healing over his cheek. No doubt from the fight two nights ago with him and Dream that was broadcasted on the news. Still, he was as handsome as ever.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been up to.” Siren's voice modulator makes his voice sound rough almost like he was warning you.
Your heart pounded in your ears, mainly from the adrenaline and anticipation of seeing him again, you swallowed and tried to keep your breathing steady.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you tried to play it coy, but he could probably tell if you were bullshitting.
“Don’t play dumb, you think I didn’t notice all those times I found you in a situation you couldn't get yourself out of was by accident? I know you’ve been looking for me, sweetheart.”
How would he have known?... unless.
"Have you been following me?" your voice sounding annoyed.
Siren scoffs and shakes his head in disbelief at your words.
"If you think I have time to babysit, then you clearly have no idea what really goes on in this city after dark."
"that still doesn't answer my question."
His lips were thin.
"let's just say I've kept an eye on you." he says. "weren't sure if you were hired by the heroes committee to find out information for a while, but turns out you're just a civilian with a death wish."
It seems like he was talking down to you and treating you as if you were a child. Maybe for good reason. He should turn around, and leave you in this ally like he did last time. However, there seems to be a force preventing him from moving away from standing just a few inches away from you.
“I mean what are you thinking? Don’t you know how stupid it is to get yourself into trouble like this? you could get hurt, or even worse end up dead.” his words are sharp. "There are other villains out there that would take advantage of you sweetheart, and I don't say that lightly."
He was right. You were this fucking dumb. All to get the attention of a supervillain.
“I wanted to see you again.”
You can’t see his eyes due to the fabric covering but you’re sure he’s blinking at you in surprise. His mouth parted in shock, like a fish out of water before his lips hardened into a snarl again. Never once had you noticed him falter like that. Even for a moment.
He leaned over you before he spoke.
“Forget about me. Go back to your civilian life and stop trying to find me.”
Your eyes narrow at him. Pushing away from the wall to stride towards him until you're tilting up to try and be level with him, but his tall height makes that challenging.
“Don’t you think I’ve tried? I can’t stop thinking about you. Ever since you saved me all those weeks ago. I couldn’t understand why,” you took a step closer. Siren wanted to back away, but something was keeping his feet glued to his position. “why, would a villain of all people help someone like me? maybe, I am dumb, maybe I'm insane for thinking all those times you helped me you actually cared about me in some sick twisted way."
You can feel his hard stare under the mask. He says nothing as you go on your tangent. Your breath heaving, tears streaming down your face. Maybe it was better before you knew him. At least you wouldn't feel pathetic for crying over someone who disregarded you as nothing more than a fool with misconceptions.
"I'm sorry I burdened you with my stupidity. I was delusional to ever think a person like you could ever change.”
“A person like me?” his tone was challenging.
He looms over you walking closer until your pressed back against the wall, trapped.
“You don’t understand what a person like me has to do in order to survive.” he spits.
Pushing off your toes, you grip the back of his neck and pull him into a searing kiss. You just had to know what he tasted like. Shocked, Siren didn't move. Your soft lips pressed to his, your hands threading through his hair made him lean into you. He couldn't deny how intoxicating you were.
Practically throwing yourself at him. Your hands carded through his soft curly locks, slipping under his silk bandana almost uncovering his eyes. Siren didn’t care in the moment. He kissed you back with just as much frustration and passion. His hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer as he groaned into your mouth when you parted your lips to let him in. The taste of him had you reeling and seeing stars. Everything you had yearned for since the moment he saved you all those months ago.
When he had separated himself from you, disconnecting your lips you couldn’t breathe.
When you finally open your eyes in a flash he was gone.
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taglist: @trashcanduck @ax-y10 @mysticalsoot @idontreallyexistyet @loonalvjy
if anyone wants to be added or removed please let me know!!
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