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plutoswritingplanet · 2 months

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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt. 2

a/n: re-uploaded cause tumblr wouldn't show it in the tags for some reason Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con, Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atriedes, Horny Violence, and some angsty family relations (lmao)

Summary: The courting becomes more and more complicated, as both you and the Na-Baron discover something about each other.

Part.1, Part 3. Part 4.(finale)

- He's a beast.

Lady Jessica stops in her tracks, her hands sliding gently across the fabric of your nightgown. It's your Mother, that puts it out on the table next to your bed. But the person, who turns back towards you with an unreadable expression, is most definitely not her. You're talking to a Bene Gesserit sister now. A freezing chill runs up your spine, and you start picking at the skin around your fingernails, a nervous habit you've picked up a long time ago.

- Have you forgotten all that I have taught you? - she asks, turning to face you fully, in the dimly lit space of your bedroom

Subconsciously you retreat into yourself, body leaning further away from her, as if that distance might save you from whatever unpleasant revelation will most likely fall upon you. Lady Jessica takes a deep breath, her lips pulling back into an easy, soothing smile. In the past, you would look for expressions such as this, fish them out for comfort. Now, as you look upon your Mother's face, it all seems to be a trap made specifically for you.

- Men like him, beastly men, are the weakest ones - she explains, taking slow steps towards your hunched form - They need the power and the blood to feel worthy of existing, which makes them easy to manipulate. Keep them pliant under your hands like fresh dough.

She sits beside you, your mattress dipping under her weight, and your eyes are immediately drawn to your Mother's elegant hands, folded neatly in her lap. You wish you could put your head there. Have her pull your running thoughts out with gentle caresses. A hairbrush lays abandoned on the vanity in front of you, and silently you contemplate, whether you'll ever have the opportunity to have your hair brushed by her.

- You must find his weakness, what drives him to do what he does. And then control it.

- I don't want to control my husband - the words spill out of your lips, before you have the chance to stop them - I want to love him, to support him. To give him children he'll love, children I'll love.

Tears fall in heavy waterfalls down your cheeks. You haven't had the luxury of a good cry since your betrothed had arrived, and it feels divine. Letting your body shake and shiver, wrecked by uninhibited sobs, as your Mother looks down upon you, torn between the two roles she must fulfill.

The more you've thought about your situation, the more hopeless you felt. The Harkonnens will never let you see your family again, you're sure of it. You'll have to deal with all the horrors of Giedi Prime entirely on your own, with no support from your husband, no friends, no family. And your children, as they are sure to come, will be taken away from you. Thrown into the black and white, until there's no love left in them.

The Emperror is a cruel man, you think. An execution would've been a kinder end.

- Why did you have to make me a Daughter? - the way your voice breaks in desperation fills you with shame - Why couldn't you give Father another Son?

You know you've overstepped, as soon as the accusatory tone registers in your brain. It is far too late by then, and the hands, which just moments before you've fantasized about running through your hair, grip you tightly. Your Mother's face, a constant image of beauty, twists into something darker, something you don't recognize, and you gasp, as her dull fingernails dig into the skin of your wrist.

- Your Father has Paul - her voice is barely above a whisper, blue eyes stabbing you with the intensity of her gaze - I gave him a son, because he asked for a son. Because I loved him enough to give him one. And he can have him. He can fill him with lessons of male leadership, of short-sighted plans. You. You are my Daughter. You are mine, and I've trained you well enough to conquer this task.

A hopeless pit settles itself in the void of your stomach.

You've always known your destiny would be to marry well, to further House Atreides' legacy. And yet, somehow, there was a sliver of hope, treacherously worming itself into your brain. Your Father had Paul, the perfect heir. Surely, he could send him off for the greater good and leave you to your own devices. Let you find someone to care for you, someone you'd do anything for. The thought sits in the pit of your stomach, turning your insides in shame. Still, you can't shake the sinking feeling, that if the universe was kind, you would've been born a Son.

Your Mother, or more likely, the Bene Gesserit, stands up, a cold chill filling the space where her body used to sit. She regards you once, a stern, unwavering gaze.

- Wear black tomorrow.

Perhaps, you'll die in your sleep tonight. Perhaps the universe will bring you this small mercy.

*** Perhaps you did die.

Through the haze of dreams, you can see him. Bare, as the day he was born, body gleaming white in the darkness of your room.

You can't move, can't see his face, and when he approaches, every single one of your muscles tense. You shift under the covers, cold tendrills of fear engulfing you entirely. He comes closer, moves like a wild cat, stands at the foot of your bed.

The need to run is overwhelming, but your body refuses to listen, as slowly, torturously slowly, he climbs on top of you, defined muscles moving under his skin in a way that reminds you of some cursed demon, rather than a man. His scent fills your nostrils, a mixture of something heady and metalic, and, like a little child scared of the dark, you try to hide your face under the covers.

This demon version of your betrothed sits down, sculpted thighs squeezing around your sides, and with rising panic you realize, he's slowly choking the life out of you. A fitting end, a welcomed one. Perhaps it would be better to die right now, before you discover what atrocities he plans to commit on your body and mind, after you're wedded.

Then, his hand reaches behind his back, full lips pull upwards, exposing blackened out teeth. You barely register the glint of his sword, not until he holds it high up, above his hand. You're not allowed a moment to wallow in your confusion, as your future husband brings the weapon down, sinking it with brutal force into your beating heart.

You awake screaming.

***

In the morning, you pull a black tunic over your head, remnants of your dream clinging to you like an unwanted shadow.

Every move of the silky fabric against your skin feels like a small defeat, and with your head hung low, you make your way towards the dining hall. Truly, you're not hungry, stomach turning and twisting, a steady presence of nerves keeping your body on edge. Your attendance is required however, such are customs, and it is entirely too eaarly for another lecture about your behaviour.

As you enter the room, your mask of tired indifference slips just for a second, a mixture of fear and anger flickering in, and out of existence.

There, opposite of your Father you can see him. Your future husband, the love of your miserable, ending life. Slow horror washes over you, as you suddenly realize that this demonic, otherwordly version of him, which visited you in your nightmares is just how he looks. He greets you with a polite inclination of his smooth head, and you consider not showing any outward sign of repulsion, a small victory on your part. Your Mother doesn't think so, but you dodge her sharp eyes in favor of greeting your brother.

It doesn't go unnoticed, the way Feyd Rautha's eyes drink in greedily the sight of you embracing Paul. His gaze lingers on your smile, and he raises his cup to his lips, scrunching his nose ever so slightly at the unfamiliar drink he's been offered. You want to ask, if they have coffee on Giedi Prime, but the question is forcefully swallowed down. You will not talk to this man. He will never know anything more than contempt from you. Curse your Mother's words, you'll fight this battle every day, on your own, if you have to.

- My Daughter will show you around the training barracks after breakfast - Duke Leto announces, and you freeze with a cup of coffee half-way to your lips.

- Will I? - you ask, trying to control the edge in your voice.

- Na-Baron has made inquires about a place to train - your Father explains, giving you a meaningful side eye - You'll accompany him.

The coffee tastes like rot in your mouth, and you place your cup down with a note of finality. You won't look at him, you don't have to. That knowing smirk could be felt through the very particles flowing in the air, every single one laughing at your predicament.

Despite your best efforts, the breakfast comes to an end, your family slowly rising to attend to their duties. Your Father, ever the cordial man, bids his farewells to the unwelcomed guest. Your Mother does the same, albeit sounding more honest. Paul lingers as long as Lady Jessica allows him, until he is forced to retreat by a slender hand tugging mercilessly on his elbow. A gesture both of you know intimately from your childhoods.

Before you know it, you're left alone with the pale imitation of a man. He arises slowly from his seat, smoothly making his way towards you, each of his footsteps echoing in the dining room.

- Shall we, my Lady?

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his offered hand, like a white spider living just outside of your vision. With a shudder, you slip out of your chair, trying very hard not to touch him, and failing immediately, when his broad chest nearly pushes you back into your seat.

He smells nice, your brain betrays you, the scent bringing back images from your night terror, causing an involuntary shiver to run up your spine. With averted gaze, you turn to leave, ignoring his still extended hand. He follows you like a shadow, catching up to you in no time, as you slide through the corridors of the Palace. It's uncomfortable, to say the least, walking with him behind your back. His eyes bear into you, a prickly feeling at the base of your neck making you roll your shoulders.

It follows you, as he follows, right to the very destination. All in blessed silence, a small miracle to save this already dreadful morning.

The men, launging about at the training barracks freeze in their spots, and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, when Duncan Idaho catches your eyes. His skin has a beautiful, warm tone, highlighted by the morning sun flowing into the room through the windows. You nod, he nods back, an unspoken understanding blooming between the two of you. There could be no suspicion of any closer bond, lest this engagement would be called off. A result, perhaps favorable to you personally, but your family would never live down the shame. And you would never jeopardize Paul's future, no matter how hollow yours looked.

- You have a warrior's body - your betrothed comments, as he inspects the blades laid out on a small table - Do you train here as well?

Small talk, you could do small talk. With a sigh, you tear your gaze away from Duncan, and turn to the Harkonnen, forcing something resembling a polite smile to bloom onto your features.

- Yes, I do - you answer curtly, eyes falling onto elegant, white fingers, sliding over a shiny metal blade.

- It is not a common practice here, is it? - he looks at you, eyes gliding over your stature - Women being trained to fight?

Suddenly very much aware of your body, you cross your arms on your chest, hugging yourself tightly. You don't miss the way his gaze seems to linger on the low neckline of your tunic, and with bitterness on your tongue you wonder, has this man ever felt ashamed.

- Not common, but it does happen - your voice betrays your emotions, a sharp edge settling over your tone, causing the man to arch an eyebrow.

Finally, he settles onto a chosen blade, bringing it up to the light and with laser focus observing the way particles dance on the steel surface. Then, he looks back at you, catching you in the act of observing the prominent, lean muscles on his neck. You ignore the knowing smirk and will your blushing cheeks to suddenly become devoid of color.

They don't, of course, and you scurry to the side of the table, to fiddle with the rest of the weaponry. Your favorite training blade is there, and instinctually, your hand reaches for it.

- Train with me.

The request catches you off guard, and you shoot him a questioning look, one he deflects with a nonchalant shrug.

Your muscles flinch, as you drag your hand back from the blade.

- It would hardly be appropriate - you counter, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your tunic.

To that, he tilts his head, light eyes studying you for a longer moment, until you truly feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny.

- And suddenly you're worried about what the court says? - he cuts you off, before you have the chance to ask, just what exactly does he mean by that - Perhaps you're too soft to fight me.

- I know what you're doing - you point an accusatory finger at his chest, and the man smiles, blackened teeth peaking between his full lips.

- And what am I doing? - it's hard to ignore the teasing timbre in his voice, and you swallow thickly.

- You're trying to get under my skin.

Shivering under the expected cruel glint in his eye, as another, most likely filthy innuendo purses his lips, you turn to him fully, a serious expression on your features.

- I've seen you fight, Na-Baron - his jaw tightens at the sound of your voice curling around his title - I know you're a force to be reckoned with, I'm not scared to admit that.

He straightens, regards you with furrowed brows for a longer second, until, yet again you start to fidget under his gaze.

- Perhaps then, you're scared you'll hurt me - the mere idea is so preposterous, your head snaps in his direction - If I had known, you liked me that much...

- That is entirely not true, and you know it - you deflect again, although annoyance begins to paint your voice.

Then, his hand shoots out, gripping your arm and pulling you closer. Air seems to thicken around you, as you look up at him, with surprise quickly morphing into outrage. His breath mingles with yours, and you can't seem to look away from his eyes, pupils nearly drowned in the overwhelming blue of his irises.

- Stop hiding, my viper. Fight me.

The command, spoken in a harsh whisper just shy of your lips, turns your insides into molasses.

His taller form leans down to tower over yours, an intense expression settling over his sharp features. Close to excitement, much too close to desire, even closer to a murderous curiosity. Your throat feels entirely too dry, and before you can stop yourself, you swallow thickly, tongue darting out to lick your lips. His eyes snap almost immediately downwards, and your heart stops beating. You can't see anymore blue in his irises, only black. Darkness covers his eyes reflecting his thoughts, and you feel like you have to flee right now, before something terrible happens to you.

So you do just that. Ripping yourself away from his closeness, you return to the table, hand finding your chosen blade without really looking.

Another flash of black teeth, as the Na-Baron realizes what you're doing, and the both of you enable the shields surrounding your bodies.

The gathered soldiers watch on, as you march towards the center of the room, determination filling every step to the brim. Duncan gives you a look, which you choose to ignore. You can't think about him now, not when you have your honor to defend against this Harkonnen monster of a man.

Feyd Rautha rolls his shoulders, discards the thin fabric of his dress shirt, and once again you are stricken with his almost god-like physique. The blade looks like an extension of his hand, as he weighs it and slashes the air in front of him. Then, he fixes you with a challenging expression, as if he expects you to do the same, to try and best him at some shameless display.

You decide to keep your clothes on, blade held high, ready to strike.

He jumps from one leg to another, and immediately an orchestra of alarm bells rings out in your brain. Should a man really be this excited at the prospect of fighting his future wife? Should you be this excited? Questions without answers, and before any of you make a move, another one absent-midedly floats to the surface. Just how much can you hurt each other, before the wedding is concluded? How much you'll inevitably hurt each other after?

The darkness he has brought on the ship with him must be contagious, because despite your better judgement, you smile. A sharp smirk, that makes your eyes look less like a human and more like a wild animal. And he drinks it all in, as he begins to circle you.

You'd never show him your back, never again. He's a tried and true predator, the only instinct he has, is a killer one. A fact you quickly get aquatinted with, as he unleashes a series of lightning fast strikes your way.

Immediately you realize, that small show of cruelty he organized at your grandfather's theatre was nothing, compared to what he could truly do. And still, you suspect he's holding back, as you barely dodge a nasty stab, right under your ribs. Another one is blocked against your sheild, and before you have a chance to collect yourself, third one sends you back a couple of steps.

He doesn't let you get away, with confident steps pushing you further and further out of the center of the training floor.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Duncan Idaho stand up from his place. Thinking back to your last training session, you shudder bitterly. "Never fight in anger" is easy to say, when you're not forced to marry, bed and sunsequently give children to the man you're fighting.

Panting and sweating, you give Feyd Rautha your all, twirling in place, sliding on your feet. A different kind of choreography, which seems to work surprisingly well, with his almost animalistic force. Gurney taught you how to be powerful, how to land strikes which were as effective, as they were cunning. Duncan, on the other hand, taught you how to dance. So that's what you do.

Finally, you manage to grab at his free hand, locking your feet between his and bringing him closer to your blade. It stops just short of his artery, blocked by his dagger, the clash of metal reverberating through the halls.

The smirk he gives you is beyond nasty, and forcefully, you push away from him, as if the very idea of skin to skin contact repulsed you. And it does, it truly does, especially now that adrenaline mixed with frustration boils in your head.

- Again - you snarl his way, assuming your fighting stance.

- As my Lady commands - his voice has a natural growl to it, made even more prominent by the exertion of the fight, and he twists his body into a perversion of a curtsy.

This time you're the one to attack first, ignoring your menthor's words and relying on pure rage to guide your steps. A stab to his thigh, which he deflects with seemingly childish ease. Your tunic slips through his fingers, as you slide under his arm. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his blade, when he hides it into his belt. Confusion hits you suddenly. Was he giving up, why was he hiding his weapon? None of the questions get answered, as a foot curls itself around your ankle.

Your balance leaves you with a gasp of surprise, and soon, your back is on the floor, Feyd Rautha following closely behind. Your heated gaze meets his, as one hand wrenches the blade from your grasp and pins both your arms above your head. The other one supports his weight, as he hovers above you, light bleeding behind him in an unfitting image of a halo.

Your chest heaves, sweat rolling down your collarbones, and the Harkonnen doesn't even try to hide the way his gaze follows a stray drop of salt, as it disappears between your breasts.

- You fought well - he complements in a hushed tone, and you writhe desperately under his body.

The night terror rears its ugly head again, as you feel his tighs press onto your sides, almost as if he wants to shape your flesh into the imprint of his body.

- I think I prefer you like this - he whispers, face coming closer to the exposed column of your neck - You belong under me.

That's what does it. Your face twists into an expression of equal parts disgust, and fury. You won't give him this victory, you'd rather die. Legs tangle themselves around his calves, and you use all your strength fueled by the burning need to fucking hurt him.

The world spins, two bodies rolling on the floor, and suddenly you're on top of him, legs biting into his hip bones. While one hand supports your weight on his naked shoulder, the other finds the dagger hidden in his belt. The surprised gasp, which leaves his lips feels like music to your ears, and you don't even try to fight the awful smirk splitting your mouth.

The shield on his neck glows an angry red, as you press the tip of the blade down, right under his bobbing Adam's apple. He swallows, for just a second letting you see the mask of self confidence slip. He has quite long eyelashes, you notice, as his eyelids flutter, a low hum reverbating through his chest. Eyes that are neither blue nor completely black drink in the sight of you. The halo of your hair, the snarl on your lips, the curve of your waist, where one of his hands settle.

Missing all of this, too enraptured by your own fury, you push the blade further down until it pricks his alabaster skin. He hisses through his blackened teeth and you want more, you want him to scream. A thin streak of red begins to flow down his neck, and God help you, it looks like art.

His grip on your waist tightens, all five fingers digging into your flesh through the thin tunic. Feyd Rautha bares his teeth at you in a cruel smile, one that makes you question whether you're the one in control.

And then his hips roll upwards.

A barely noticable movement, easily mistaken for a spasm of the muscles, but you know better. You can read it all from his expression, his pupils blown wide, the quickened breaths of air slipping past his lips. From the quickly hardening length pressing against your inner thigh.

Your stomach flutters with a well known feeling, and that terrifies you more than any pain-motivated erection ever could. Because he sees it, he sees the beginning flames of desire taking root in your center, and the realization looks like ecstasy on his face. Humiliation washes through you, fills you completely. There is no awkward blush on your face, no. All you feel is white, freezing terror, as all your defences seem to crumble all at once.

Like a scared animal, you're off of him in a split-second, and he doesn't chase you, as you all but run from the training barracks. Doesn't have to, he already has everything he needs.

#my writing #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune part 2 #dune 2024 #they try to silence me again on tumblr dot com but i won't let them

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diejager · 6 months

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how does a (monster AU) phoenix! reader sound? ...I kinda imagine 141 (except price) getting a heart attack when reader takes a bullet and bursts into flames and then a heap of ash, and then (im pulling a harry potter description of pheonix but its ur choice) the most ugly bird or something pokes their head out of the ashes and they're like '...oh'.

I remember watching Fawkes burning and turning to ash before he popped his head out. So adorable.

Ashes Cw: burning, death, rebirth, tell me if I missed any.

Ghost knew when someone was lying, able to sniff out a liar within a mile. Your dimmer smile, shorter laughter and exhaiusted expression, nothing seemed to make your days better than a warm bump of tea once or twice a day to sooth the ache in your bones and the strain in your muscles. He’d approach you with a clear mind, wanting to get to the bottom of your sickness, why you’d occasionally cough, voice weak and breathy until it cracked. You told him you were fine, that it was just the weather affecting you, but he’d seen this kind of sickness before, a cold that sunk into the bones and clogged every sinuses with intent —sick and vulnerable.

He wasn’t alone in this thought, Alejandro and Gaz shared similar doubts, coming forth to Price with their fears rather than sneaking around like he did, but Price had waved them off, telling them that it was a seasonal thing, you got sick from time to time and rose back from it as if death failed to catch you. This did not seem like something simple and mundane, Ghost could see death follow you like it followed him, it was ever present, so much so that Alejandro and Horangi - the two with the weakest nose out of the four - could smell it ooze off you like a dark miasma plaguing your body.

It seemed as if the both of you shared something that the others weren’t privy to, a low whisper in the dark that they failed to catch or the secret you shared through confidentiality higher than even a colonel. The captain knew you before you joined them, forming a tight connection through past trauma and fuck ups. Perhaps that’s why Price seemed almost chipper about your saddening state.

It seemed that Ghost was kept in as much darkness as the rest, the higher ups had kept it hidden from him, from König and from Alejandro who should’ve had the jurisdiction to have access to your documents. Especially after seeing you burst into flames after being shot in the neck by a surviving sniper (Ghost was quick to shoot him down), body gone in a coud of ash and dusted feathers. He panicked, but he wasn’t the only one to rush towards what remained of you. Despite their panicked mumbles and frantic thoughts, Price had reassured them that it was normal, that you were still alive —all they had to do was wait a few seconds for you to reappear.

Appear you did, a small, ashen head, beak the length of a child’s thumb, small ad brittle, big, rounded eyes blinked at them, narrowed in confusion until you called, a tiny croon from a chick’s throat. You shuffled your way through the mess, featherless wings flapping as you hopped towards Price, who quickly met you half way, picking you up with one nimble swoop.

“Look at you,” Price cooed, pressing his thumb to your forehead, feeling the soft, newly grown feathers that glowed white, “About time you burned, yeah?”

“Fuckin’ hell,” it was the only thing he could answer with when his mind was building up these theories, every little thought in his head went to understand what and how you were made. It was as close as Soap’s Steamin’ bloody Jesus or König’s dumbfounded Was.

“Is that why you told us not to worry, Captain?” Gaz’s ability to think clearly in adrenaline-inducing moments was a blessing, able to restrain his unending thoughts to connect two together and conjure up a sentence - a few words, a mumble or a plea - to understand whatever happened to you. “What happened?”

Price let out a deep rumble, a laugh from his belly, deep and amused, a striking contrast to their worried frowns. He handled you softly, petting and pinching at the young feathers growing on you while he turned you around, showing them how Price held you with such careful ease and soothing smile. Ghost doubted that Price didn’t have any prior experience in caring for you, seeing how loving he was with you —like a lover caring for his sickened, or a dragon guarding his treasure, Ghost wasn’t sure which one was right.

“Hunter’s a phoenix, “ he smiled softly, eyes gleaming with too much glee, a silent laugh at their sudden bewilderment, approaching you slowly to admire you themselves. “They burst to flames every three years or so, the last one was around five years ago- long overdue for a reset.”

Soap and Horangi were the first to attempt to touch you, the excited dog and the curious feline, tentatively poking at you with a finger until you pecked it, annoyed by their incessant jabbing. You let out a shrill cry from your throat, small and hilariously fierce for something so small and fragile. You crawled to the ends of Price’s fingers, wings flapping to urge them to pick you up instead of pointing a finger and cooing at you as if you were an exotic animal. You somewhat were —exotic, that is.

“A wee thang, aye, Cap?” Soap awed, cradling you in his palms, you weighted so little, as light as a feather on Gaz’s wing.

“Ugly as a rat too,” Horangi snickered, making light of the situation that had made their hearts stop.

You screeched, shaking your head wildly at him, his shoulders bobbing while you showed how offended you felt by acting out, an angry, little chick putting on a show of aggression and courage. His dark thoughts receded, Ghost’s fears and demons falling back into the depths of his mind when his eyes met your beady ones, round and doe-eyed, your age shining through the innocence of a newly-hatched. It made him wonder how you’d look once your feathers grew out, would you be as majestic as the stories portrayed phoenix did, with your great wings and great strength, feathers bathed in the sun’s warm embrace and tipped with the power of undying flames of power. Phoenixes were seen as symbols of immortality, resurrection —of life and death. Untouchable by death and favoured by life, you would live in a cycle of ashes and flames, embers cracking until it softened to flickers, a soft, gentle flame ready to yield to nature.

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srvbryn · 4 months

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Luke Castellan. Wounds

Luke Castellan X Apollo!Daughter!reader

Summary: In which Luke got small wounds and he's being stubborn as hell

"I don't need your healing magic power ugh" "yes yes you do <333"

A/n: "I can change him" "remember who the real enemy is!" I might join him instead and I'm trying aaaah 😭

Luke Castellan lay in his makeshift infirmary, his usually vibrant eyes dulled by sickness.

Annabeth, had insisted on a medical check-up, much to his stubborn resistance.

The camp's medic, not daring to face Luke, had reluctantly agreed to let (Name), the daughter of Apollo, tend to him.

"(Name)," Luke rasped, his voice a mere whisper. "I don't need your healing powers. I'm perfectly fine."

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by his defiance. "Sure, Luke. That's why you're lying here looking like you went a few rounds with a cyclops."

He managed a grin. "Maybe I did. It's just a scratch."

She shook her head, a small smile on her lips. "You're impossible, Luke."

As she examined him, he couldn't help but notice the warmth in her hands and the calming aura that enveloped her.

It was a stark contrast to the cold atmosphere of the infirmary.

"You're lucky Annabeth forced you into this check-up," she remarked, her fingers over his forehead. "You wouldn't last another day without proper care."

"I don't need anyone to take care of me," he mumbled, though his resistance was losing its edge.

"Oh, I can see that," she teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "That's why you're practically glowing with health."

He rolled his eyes but didn't protest.

There was something about her presence that eased his discomfort. Maybe it was the gentle way she treated him or the fact that she was the only one he tolerated when he was at his weakest.

"You know," he began, his voice a bit less strained, "I might consider getting sick more often if you're the one taking care of me."

She chuckled, a melodic sound that filled the infirmary. "Nice try, Luke. But I think once is more than enough for everyone involved."

Their banter continued, the atmosphere lightening with each exchanged word.

As she administered a healing concoction, their eyes met, and a silent understanding passed between them.

"You're not so bad when you're not plotting world domination," she teased, a soft smile gracing her features.

He grinned, the playful glint returning to his eyes. "World domination is overrated anyway. I think I'd rather have someone take care of me like you do."

She chuckled again, the flirtatious undertone not lost on either of them. "Well, don't get too comfortable. This is a one-time offer."

"Shame," he replied with a mock pout. "I was starting to enjoy being pampered by the favorite daughter of Apollo."

As the day turned into evening, (Name) continued to stay by Luke's side. The infirmary, once a place of discomfort, became a home of shared laughter and a connection that went beyond the demigod duties.

In the quiet moments, as Luke drifted into a restful sleep, (Name) couldn't help but admire the vulnerability beneath his tough exterior.

And so, in the warm glow of the infirmary's lamps, the daughter of Apollo watched over the fallen hero, silently acknowledging that sometimes, even the strongest warriors needed a healer's touch to mend both body and soul.

#luke castellan x reader #pjo tv show #i love him #i want him #luke castellan #pjo #charlie bushnell #percy jackson #Spotify

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writersblockiskillingme · 6 months

Note

Hi, I didn’t see a what not to request thing so ignore this if your not comfortable writing death - but can I request Coriolanus Snow x reader who is a tribute in the games but dies and there’s nothing he can do about it. Just pure angst.

The Fall Of Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader

Summary: She was just supposed to be a pawn in his games, a way to get the Plinth Prize. He wasn't supposed to care. She was just a tribute, after all.

Warning/s: angst, death, kind-of-psycho Snow, Snow in love, crying, probably some spelling and/or grammar mistakes

Author's note: So Snow's actions and behavior may be a little out of his character here, but that is because I made him helplessly in love with reader. I hope this is okay. Enjoy!

The red chair where he sat now seemed to uncomfortable to sit in.

Coriolanus' already strong grip on the armrests of the chair somehow just seemed to tighten, he felt certain that he will probably brake the wood out of which the chair is made of. He felt cold sweat dripping down his forehead as he felt the uncomfortable feeling of shivers going down his spine.

His breathing became raspy, his academy's red uniform somehow became tighter around his neck. He felt like he was grasping the last strings of air in the room crowded with the other mentors, he felt like he was breathing just for the hell of it.

His chest started to squeeze so much it started to hurt him.

He couldn't get the air to tear through to his lungs, and for the first time in a long time Coriolanus' vision became blurry with tears.

He knew that she would be dead either way. She was from District 12 for God's sake! She was the weakest target. Her lack of throat-slicing, bloodthirsty, violent nature was going to be her downfall the moment she stepped into that arena.

She was quite small, weak even, but not like that was surprising to him. She came from the loser District. She was somehow a person who wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone kill someone. Even if it was a stranger.

He knew all of this, therefore he didn't have any reason to be surprised.

Yet it felt like he was going to choke on the uncomfortable, unbearable even, feeling of something in his throat as he felt cameras moving onto his face to capture the moment where a tribute lost a mentor. Or rather mentor losing their tribute. But this wasn't like the times before, with the other mentors, with his classmates, that left the room before him.

He knew that this is different. He felt it.

Coriolanus Snow was aware that he was supposed to have the control of his emotions like many times before.

Right now, what he was supposed to do is what was expected of him to do. Look into the camera and wave it off. Play it off as if he was just happy to be here. To play a modest, charming, bright and above all young Capitol citizen and to lean over toward Lucky Flickerman's microphone, that was already showed into his face, and to answer the questions with a charming smile pressed onto his face.

Yet he couldn't even look away from the screen on the wa in the middle of the room, let alone answer Lucky Flickerman's questions like many before him.

He watched her dead body on the floor in the middle of the arena with a shaky breath that left his lips without his permission.

Lucky Flickerman's questions rang next to his ear.

It seems like he was repeatedly asking him something yet Coriolanus somehow never heard him. Every noise in the room came into his ears as a form of beeping.

His vision blurry even tho he tried to stop it.

The only noise that seemed to constantly increase its volume is his ragged breathing.

Coriolanus watched as another tribute grabbed her body by the ankles as he started to drag her over to the pile of bodies that belonged to other deceased tributes.

Coriolanus watched her laid out hand dragging itself after her, her hair everywhere as one single tear slid down her eyes that were still open.

Haunting him.

Why didn't he do more? What didn't he save her? Why didn't she win? She should have won...

She should have won.

Coriolanus Snow didn't know how it happened and why was it happening.

He suddenly stood up, his hand gripping something in the pocket of his uniform, and without even spearing one glance towards Lucky Flickerman, Clemensia who tried to grab his shoulder before he did something stupid.

He didn't spare a glance at anyone for that matter as his legs carried him away from his chair, away from the room, away from the look of her dead body.

He walked out of the room as fast as he could, trying not to look at any cameras.

He pulled the handkerchief that she used before she was violently thrown into the games to fight for her own life.

It was still wet from her tears.

He felt his own tear dropping onto the handkerchief, mixing with her tears. The tears of his now forever lost tribute.

Coriolanus Snow promised something to himself that day.

When he gets married one day, he will do it out of profit, out of perhaps mutual interest, not out of love.

Never out of love.

Love he had for his tribute brought him here. It brought him this tight feeling in his chest that, no matter what happens or what he does, he can't get rid of.

As he wiped one lost tear with her (his) handkerchief, he promised himself to never loose control ever again.

Yet he knew one thing. Those eyes, hair and smile would haunt him forever, as long as he was alive, but he will gladly remember it. The last thing, along with the handkerchief, he had left of her. His love, his tribute, that died in the arena.

TAGLIST:

@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944

#imagine #fic #the hunger games #thg #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #angst #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader

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kinopio-writes · 2 months

Note

Hi! Would you be willing to write something for Adam with a sensitive reader?

Everyone knows that he is loud-mouthed jerk, even reader, and she loves him regardless, but one day he crosses the line and says something particularly mean that makes her cry. Like REAL mean. To the point that he pauses because he did not think before speaking (or, well, less than usual lol)

I'm happy with whatever format you feel like using! Thank you!

A/N: I will be more than delighted to write that for you. But would you excuse me for a moment? AHHHHHHDISJDIOEOFJSKXJND—I’m sorry; I love this idea so much. Reading ‘Adam with a sensitive reader’ got me hooked instantly. But I’ll go over that in the headcanons, along with the general stuff. And I’ll add a oneshot at the end that plays the exact scenario of Adam taking it too far.

Holy sh!t. I made it so that the reader being sensitive is their greatest but also weakest point and it turned out pretty angsty. Has a bit of hurt/comfort, though. Did I go overboard? Maybe. That’s why it took so long. Sorry, anon.

Words: 2,328 (edited the end a bit because it didn’t sit right with me)

Warnings: Sex is mentioned (only a bit, surprisingly), Angst, Adam being Adam

———

Adam w/ a Sensitive!Reader

• ha, this man is also sensitive himself

• well, sensitive about himself

• he feels his own emotions strongly, so he’s not the caring, easily able to pick up on other’s feelings and empathize type of sensitive

• you, on the other hand, are on the opposite end of the spectrum compared to Adam

• so you experience other people’s emotions just as strongly as yours

• you easily know what makes someone tick

• you’re selfless

• you’re able to admit your mistakes and apologize

• you’re respectful and actively listen to people when they talk about themselves

• you don’t push people down to make yourself seem better

• you try to make everyone feel good and comfortable

• you’re everything he isn’t

• because you fit in Heaven perfectly

• you deserve to be there

• and Adam knows that he doesn’t belong (subconsciously at least)

• you’re able to draw people in just for being yourself

• and he’s envious of it

• so he demeans you and is snarky about everything you do, and every time people give you praise or affection, he tries to divert the attention to himself or just stares at you with utter hatred from afar

• although all of that is just when he hasn’t even had a conversation with you

• after a while of being around you, he’ll cling to you because you give him the reassurance and validation he oh-so craves (he acts as if he didn’t hate you before. What do you mean? You two were always buddy-buddy!)

• you acknowledge all of the things he puts his worth to

• heck, you hang out with him—you sometimes even initiate it—willingly, and you’re genuinely interested in everything he has to say

• but he‘ll only hang out with you where no one recognizes you (so you don’t get all the attention)

• terrible transition here, but he notices that you mimic people’s expressions often

• he definitely makes fun of you for it

• and also mocks you

• up until he realizes that you do the same thing to him, too

• which is fine and all, if only you didn’t do that when he’s upset

• well, you mimic him when he’s joyous as well, but he (already subconsciously) expects you to. I mean, why wouldn’t you? He’s fucking hilarious!

• so you copying his negative emotions just stands out more

• and he…doesn’t like it

• that’s only really what he doesn’t like about you

• and the fact that you hog all the attention

• and the fact that people see you as perfect…

• buuut what happens when he gets to see a new side of you that isn’t exactly upholding that image?

———

Your phone lit up from your bedside table, brightening your otherwise dark room along with the soft glow of your halo. You only moved your eyes to the light, not wanting your tears to spill and dampen your pillows.

You had an inkling as to who was texting you this late—if the fact that your phone lighting up several times in the span of 5 minutes had anything to say.

When the texts stopped pouring in after a few seconds, you heavily sighed, wings ruffling. You resisted the urge to rub your face as you went to grab your phone.

HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) ARE YOU UP? (2:35) I’M BORED (2:35) GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE (2:36) IF YOU’RE UP (2:37) ARE YOU? (2:38) DID I TELL YOU THAT BITCH WITH THE HUGE TITS GOT FIRED TODAY? (2:39)

Figured. Of course, it was Adam. He was the only person you knew who’d be awake at this ungodly hour. And the only person you knew who’d disturb your peace if it meant curing anything that ailed him. Which was now about boredom, it seemed.

You read a few of his texts displayed on your lock screen before tapping one of the notifications and opening the app, scanning the rest of the unread messages.

Adam was going on about ‘that bitch with the huge tits’—her name was Tiffany, you were sure—and how she was rumored to have slept with an archangel to assume higher authority. He also went on to complain about how he didn’t have the chance to bed her anymore since she was basically deemed an outcast and that he couldn’t be seen with someone like her.

You frowned, not believing any of it, but you didn’t have time to think about it enough when he began typing again.

SO YOU’RE AWAKE (2:43)

You barely finished reading the new message when another one popped up.

DON’T IGNORE ME BITCH (2:43)

You frowned deeper, quick to type out a reply.

i’m not (2:43) i was just reading your texts (2:43) don’t worry (2:43) i’ll be there soon (2:44)

When he stopped typing, you placed your phone back on the nightstand, sitting up on your bed as you carefully wiped away your teary eyes. You hugged yourself for a moment, wings functioning as a cocoon while a hand tugged on your hair.

Today had been draining—both mentally and emotionally. Just like the day before, and the day before that. But you didn’t want to think about it, lest you start to cry some more and smear your face with tears this time. What mattered was that everyone was back on their feet again.

Since you didn’t bother changing into your sleepwear when you got home, you only checked your face in the mirror to see if your eyes were puffy or not. You then took in deep breaths, holding up your drooping wings before putting up a charming smile.

You couldn’t stay in the bathroom for long, quickly leaving to tread the path to Adam’s.

•••

“BOO!” Adam’s masked face suddenly peeked from the corner of his hallway, earning an indescribable scream from you as you jerked back. He burst out laughing, brows creased in confusion but also amusement. He couldn’t even make fun of you for getting scared. “What the—what the fuck was that scream?”

Recovering rather quickly as you blinked, you only smiled at him. You were expecting him to wait for you on his couch as his front door was left unlocked, but you weren’t complaining; his action took away any drowsiness you just had.

When Adam didn’t hear you laugh with him, his laughter subsided as he opened his eyes to look at your face. He raised his brows and placed the back of his hands on his hips. “What’s up with you?”

Shit. There was no way Adam was seeing through you.

“Nothing; I just love hearing you laugh.” You heard a tiny squeak in response. “Anyway, what did you make me come over for? Surely not just to scare me.” You moved past Adam and tightly crossed your arms, entering his spacious living room.

“Pshh, fuck no. You’re so easy to spook. Though that was a first. Didn’t know you could hit high notes, (Name).”

You didn’t know what to say to his…compliment? And sort of insult? Was it really either of them? Should you thank him? But in a sarcastic way? No, you weren’t known for being sarcastic, so he might think you were being genuine and look at you weirdly. And it would also seem highly egotistical.

Not as if Adam had much to say about that…

You tugged at your hair when you caught yourself with those thoughts. Shit, that’s so rude! You can’t think that! You shouldn’t think that!

You settled on an awkward chuckle, making yourself appear smaller as you averted your eyes to his TV space.

It was different, certainly. The modular couch pieces were rearranged into a pit sectional. And it looked as though he had chucked a bunch of pillows and one large blanket as an afterthought. It appeared messy, but at least it looked cozy.

“What’s this?”

“Hm? Oh, well, since you were taking your sweet ass time coming here, I thought to switch things up a bit.” You flinched when his head appeared right on your shoulder. “What’d ya think?”

“It looks super comfy.” Adam wore a goofy grin behind you as you walked closer to the area and noticed that he already prepared snacks on the low table. “Is this a way to say you wanna do a movie marathon?”

“You know it, baby.” He flew past you and landed on the sofa, patting the space beside him with a smile you just couldn’t reject.

•••

Heaven’s natural light beginning to peek through the open windows indicated that it was already dawn. Thank goodness you didn’t have work today.

You two—or rather, Adam—had settled on watching the film series, Die Hard. Every single one. You didn’t mind, but you didn’t understand why Adam invited you over if you two were just going to rewatch the film series for the eighth time.

He had also been pretty immersed in the large screen in front of him, so he hadn’t attempted to converse with you ever since the first movie started. In all honesty, he could have just watched them all by himself.

But you didn’t question it. This time was the same as the last seven, after all. You always concluded that maybe he just wanted someone to watch movies with, no talking necessary. Even if the no-talking part sounded a bit out of character.

Was it though? Because he did that quite often. For instance, he constantly brought you along to whatever mundane errands he had to do during the weekdays and never really talked with you unless he found something cool and pointed it out.

Although, the earlier times you tagged along with him on his errands, he kept yapping his mouth off about the ‘totally awesome’ things he does. He talked about music, his own albums, his band, women, sex, and himself as the first-ever man.

As time went on, however, the talking was replaced with silence. You wondered if he just ran out of things to say or if he found it unnecessary to talk anymore.

You also sometimes wondered what was going through his head when he thought you didn’t see him glancing at you while he was doing something he believed was boring.

The sound of Adam’s stomach rumbling broke you out of your train of thought.

You both looked at each other blankly as if either of you were to blame.

He blinked to break the eye contact between you. “(Name), I’m hungry.”

You snorted, facing ahead. “You ate all of our snacks before the first movie even finished.”

“Don’t blame me.” He hugged the pillow he held tighter. “I’m still fuckin’ hungry, though.”

You hummed as you reached for your pocket. “Do you want me to—oh. I…I forgot my phone.” You frowned. You never forget to bring your belongings.

Adam merely stared at you, unblinking.

You averted your eyes and held your legs tighter. “Uhm, We could get delivery if you want. Can you lend me your phone?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He casually tossed you the device before laying on his back and looking up at you. “I’m down for anything.”

His phone hit your knee before you could catch it, silently landing on the cushions. “Are you sure?” You picked it up, opened his unlocked phone, and stared at his basic home screen.

He didn’t really use his phone that often to know that it could be changed. He only really used it to fetch one-night stands or occasional dates, text, play music aloud, look at outdated memes, take random blurry photos, and right now, order delivery.

“Totally.” His crow’s feet displayed on his mask as he puffed out his cheeks.

“Because last time you said that, you didn’t like what I had to pick.”

“That’s because the 5 ʼn 2 is so fucking overrated!” he suddenly started to complain. Your wings ruffled. “Jeez, I swear, every fuckin’ time I take a chick out and ask her what her favorite eatery is, basic bitches always go, ‘Oh, bREaD & fIsH, ceRTAinLy’ or ‘bReAD & FiSh’S a cLAsSIC’” He used his hand as a puppet to imitate their words before waving it. “Like, helloooo? Can’t you see the joint that’s literally on the other side of the street’s a hundred times superior? It’s cheaper, too, unlike Bread & Fish. Overpriced ass. You get me, right—?”

“Then you pick!” Adam jumped at your volume, and your eyes widened upon noticing yourself. You quickly gave back his phone as you turned your face away from him, and he slowly took it with a weird look.

“Shit, chill, (Name). The fuck’s up your ass?” He kept his gaze on you before turning to his phone.

While he was serious about his opinions of your bland tastes, he didn’t think it was that personal. Your preferences were the same as everyone else and that was boring. He was just being honest. And you usually didn’t take the things he said that seriously.

“Adam, I’m sorry,” you spoke up after a moment of silence and ran a hand through your hair. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“ʼs not a problem.” He was still a bit weirded out, but he was willing to shrug it off.

You insisted, however, “I mean it. I’m not mad at you.”

“Okay…?” he muttered when he saw a notification pop up from Lute. Her message consisted of how some of the exterminators got into a quarrel during roll call and the ones involved got injured in the process. She said she was going to discipline them.

Adam did not want to know what she meant by that and was most likely not going to stop by their place today.

“Really. I’m not. Sorry. It’s just that yesterday’s been…”

“Uh-huh…” At this point, Adam was not listening to anything you were saying. But when he still heard the static noise that was your words, he groaned. “Look, sweetie, I really don’t give a fuckin’ shit about your fuckin’ apology, ʼkay? I don’t fuckin’ care. Now what do you want?”

You saw Adam’s confused yet concerned expression after he looked up from his phone and immediately noticed that you were starting to cry. You instantly turned your face away as you carefully wiped your eyes.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m not crying because of you.” You didn’t know if that was true. You didn’t know if you were crying because of his words or were crying because of everything else.

That was the first time he ever used a sweet petname for you in a long time. He only ever used that to demean or mock other people.

Shit. Stop thinking—you were going to cry more. But even after carefully wiping your eyes away, new tears kept flowing. You couldn’t stop. This was humiliating. You wanted to disappear. You didn’t want anyone to witness you in this state. It was mortifying.

“Shit.” Adam’s voice came out panicky as he held his hands out towards you, but he hesitated. Hesitated in what, he didn’t even know.

He…didn’t think you could cry.

Adam didn’t know what to do; this emotional shit wasn’t his thing. He couldn’t ask you to leave, he knew that much, but he didn’t want to leave himself. This was his place. Why should he leave?

So, he did the only thing he could do in this situation.

You suddenly felt something warm envelop you.

You didn’t look up, but you knew it was Adam. You could feel the texture of his robe on your hands and the side of your face. You could feel his hands on your shoulder blade, but you couldn’t quite feel his arms on you.

You stopped wiping your eyes for a moment.

No one had ever hugged you before when you were sad.

No one had ever let you be sad.

Adam heard you sob.

Fucking great. He made it worse. What the fuck was he supposed to do then?

But when he went to unwrap his arms, he felt yours slip around his midsection, pulling him closer than before as he grunted from your firm hold.

So you wanted to be hugged? Alright. Whatever.

Adam slowly hugged you back after you muttered a ‘sorry’ and loosened your grip.

The next seconds were silent, so when he heard muffled words coming from you, he looked down. You also looked up moments later when he didn’t respond, realizing he must’ve not heard you.

Your gaze softened as you two held eye contact, and with teary eyes, you smiled. “Thank you, Adam.”

Something about his expression changed, but before you could stare any longer, you felt a hand behind your head push you back to his chest as the arm on your back held you tight.

“Yeah, whatever…”

#hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #kinopiowrites

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arminsumi · 7 months

Text

SANCTUARY

💗 GOJO さとる

warnings : angst, some fluff (?), satoru is such an asshole on the exterior 🥹, not proofread

the strongest... falling in love with the weakest. he's bullied n teased u about being the weakest, a weakling; "how did they let someone like you into jujutsu tech?"

he's so mean and condescending. he trails alongside u on missions. he asks "hey, bet you missed me" when he intrudes on missions that you very nearly had under control. he watches you from the bleachers as you hopelessly practice martial arts with suguru. he steals your quiz papers when the teacher isn't looking.

but of course... he has ulterior motives. his exterior is just a big act, he's really just a teenager who belongs in the drama club.

he's sticking to ur side during missions to protect ur "stupid weak ass". he's always popping his face into a scene to make sure that curse doesn't escape, cuz otherwise he has to listen to you getting another reprimanding from yaga. satoru's the one who asked suguru to teach you martial arts every day, encouraging his best friend to grill the movements into your brain. and he steals your quiz papers to quickly rub out all the wrong answers you filled in, and correct them so that tomorrow you're met with a baffling A* grade.

he's doing everything he can to keep you from being expelled.

yet he stands in front of you, hands lazing in his pockets, taunting you about being a shorty who can't fight for shit. "you're one of those fucking weaklings i have to protect..." he says bitterly, through gritted teeth... but he doesn't mean it how you interpret it. he's so upset with the world, and how he has to work hard to protect someone who deserves to be born into an idyllic paradise.

when you're making that defeated frown, looking helpless on the floor after losing to a curse, he glares over and yells "what are you doing... get up." and he forces you to get on your feet.

he's confusing, isn't he? how he tells you in the school corridors on hot summer days, "you're too weak to fight for yourself." and then when you're unconscious after encountering a special-grade, he clutches your body protectively and sobs, "are you crazy? why wouldn't you call me... hey, keep your eyes open..." he's furrowing his brows at you, expression angry not because you're weak... but because this world treats frail people terribly and he hates it with all his soul. he doesn't want to see you fighting. he doesn't want to see you practicing jujutsu. he doesn't want you to ever see another curse's morbid face again.

he's determined to turn the world into a sanctuary for you. that's what he puts in his wedding vows to you, when the two of you reach the age of 25. and he doesn't break it, he doesn't falter, he always keeps good pace and drains and exhausts himself in order to mold the shape of the world to fit someone as soft as you.

"i can't believe something as soft as you was given to me from such a hard world."

i'm gonna make it better, baby. i'm gonna build a new world for you. one that doesn't try to hurt us. until i can achieve that goal, i hope my embrace can act as your sanctuary.

#🥡.takeout #gojo #gojo angst #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo saturo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo fluff #satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader

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ghouljams · 8 months

Note

Viking soap! Viking soap! Viking soap!

Grrrrrrrr Yes ok yes because I am feral for this idea and you're partially engaging a special interest of mine.

You spot him at the same moment he does you. A flash of blue eyes reflecting the shallow river, long hair shorn short on the sides, the fur the edges his clothes marks him as easily as the paint on his face. A viking. He stands as quickly as you step back, his eyes fixed on you. If he's here there must be more at your village. You know well enough that these men don't travel as solitary creatures.

You turn and run towards your home. You hear the crash of him through the forest behind you giving chase. Even knowing the land as well as you do the terrain is uneven, the roots are made to catch your feet, and the branches are low to obscure your vision. You don't have the deer's advantage of darting movement to keep you out of reach. Each step you can hear him getting closer, until you feel his hands grab you.

The man, the viking, catches you around your middle. You kick and scream and make every effort to batter him with your fists, to make yourself difficult prey. You've heard enough stories about what these men do to know you want no part of it. He lifts you, hauls you up off the ground as you fight and twist.

"Would you be still, I'm not going to hurt you," The man tells you in gaelic. You freeze at the familiar tongue.

"You're a liar," You push at him, claw at his grip, "why would you chase me if you weren't hunting me?"

"Why would you run?" He asks, grabbing your wrists to pin them against his chest. You glare at him, your chest heaving as you gather your breath back. He's handsome, for a viking. There's something sort of rakish about the stubble on his face and the set of his brow. "Did I do something to scare you, bonnie?" It's not an honest question, he knows full well why you'd run.

You keep quiet, keep your glare level with him. An easy task with him holding you up, his arm hooked around your thighs. His head tips back to look at you with a smile. "Aren't you pretty," He whispers, hardly phased by the run or your anger. When you don't respond he seems to find his head again, his smile dropping to something more serious.

"Fine, courting later, business now." He sets you back down, keeping a tight grip on your wrists now that you've proven yourself a runner. "I'm here to negotiate a trade, I need an escort," He explains, though you would think a man needing an escort would have a shorter handle on the ax at his hip.

"A bad liar," You amend your previous statement, tugging at his hold.

"Fine," He relents, "I want an escort. Escort me." He insists, tugging you against his chest again. You're really getting tired of bumping into him.

"Why? So you can lead a raiding party back as soon as I turn around?" You spit.

“To what end?” The viking asks, tips his head to the side, his eyes hard on you, “What use do we have for dead healers?”

You stop your struggling, stunned. He’s not wrong, but he speaks to an understanding of your village you hadn’t expected. How much did this man and his company know about you? How many scouts had walked your paths, watched your neighbors work? He’s right, dead healers are useless, but so are port healers. Vikings are only as strong as their weakest man, wouldn’t they prefer to keep healers on hand?

“You said-” You swallow, “You said you were here to negotiate a trade. What- A trade for what?” He looks away from you, and you have your answer. You were right to run, he’s here for one of you.

“Let’s go,” He doesn’t pull you, but you follow him anyway. Your mind races, thinking through the people your elders would offer up. Who was the most skilled, the most expendable, weighing what you might get in return. What couldn’t these vikings offer you? Safety, rare goods, money, animals, friendship. Invaluable intangible things that would aid all of you, for whatever price they set. It’s still only the illusion of a choice.

Your wrist is still held tight in his grip as you walk beside him. An escort, what a joke. You’re not going to put in a good word for him or do anything more than act as a pass for him to walk your streets. You’re busy working on your escape plan when you smell it.

Smoke, just as you step clear of the forest.

"Gods," the man breathes, both of you standing on top of the hill at the edge of the forest, watching your home burn. Your eyes grow wide watching the fleeing shadows of raiders, the sacrifices of you kin. What are they doing? Why would they- A mass of fire belches from the center of your village, the man covers your eyes, shields you from the heat of it with his cloak. The tattered tartan catches your attention, makes your heart pound in your chest. You recognize it, Mactavish. He was one of you.

"We have to go," He tells you. You try to pull yourself free, scream for your family down the hill. He catches you around the middle again, hauls you back into the safety of the forest.

"Tell them to stop," you beg. Your sobbing pleas fall on deaf ears.

“Those aren’t my men,” He doesn’t set you down, transfers your squirming to his shoulder with a grunt and keeps his pace. You can still see the lick of flame and smoke through the trees. The only home you’ve ever known, gone in an instant and all you can do is watch. The forest grows thicker around you as you lay against the familiar unfamiliar tartan and let yourself be carried off like a spoil.

#I'm gonna close the ask box if y'all keep giving me aus #Just so you know this would be a slow burn like Knight Ghost #but I have a few scenes in mind #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap modern warfare #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap x you #soap x reader #john mactavish #john mactavish x you #cod x reader #x reader #this fic brought to you by De Selby parts 1 and 2 #viking!soap #I should rename my medieval to just historic

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xlatiwritesx · 3 months

Text

Serious, serious | CL16

A/N: an F1 imagine 🏎️ !!! Yes, yes, I’m into F1 finally, so I of course had to write something and who else would it be than THE Charles Leclerc. Ngl, this isn’t my best work but I just had to get this idea out of my system 😵‍💫. Hope you guys enjoy it !!

Words: 1.6K

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: after your first serious scare being an F1 girlfriend, you’re rewarded with a new found emotion.

…

Time is a funny thing. Humorous, at times. It goes fast or slow as it pleases. Chooses its pace to get on your weakest nerve.

For instance, the past three months flew by. Meeting him, texting for the first time, your first date, your first kiss, attending his first race, getting to know his friends.

It felt as fast as blinking an eye. Or as fast as you were falling for him.

"A Ferrari car is off the track!" The commentator's voice boomed through the TV speakers. You jumped to your feet from the leather couch you were sat on.

"Oh no" the commentator said soon after. Soon after Charles' car crashed into the concrete wall alongside the track.

Your heart fell, your breath quickening at a dangerous rate. You shut your eyes, reminding yourself of what Charles always said to you.

"Crashes happen. All the time. These cars, though, they're meant to protect us. So, crashes aren’t as dangerous as they seem in F1"

"He's okay" you whispered to yourself. However, when you opened your eyes, everyone's face didn't confirm that, though.

"Right?" You asked, looking around the Ferrari unit. Everyone was frozen, eyes glued on the screen that showed smoke coming out of the crashed Ferrari car.

Charles' car.

Your legs moved before you even decided. You ran so fast. Faster than any car still racing out there even though the world seemed to crumble and break into pieces.

You gasped for air, the wind making it colder than usual. You reached a half empty Ferrari station. All those screens deserted. You barely held yourself up. You wondered how bad was it that half the team had to go to the scene.

"Crashes are normal in Formula One. Almost inevitable"

Not when it's the guy that you were realizing meant much more to you than you thought. The thought terrified you. So much terrified you all of a sudden.

"How do I get there?" You didn't realize how panicked you were until you heard yourself speak. The man stared at you in confusion.

"How do I get to the crash?" You urged. You couldn't believe you were saying that.

"Ma'am, you can't just go-“

"No, no! I have to!" You could feel your eyes well with tears.

"It's Charles Leclerc! Hurry!" A group of paramedics ran to their veichle. You ran after them.

"Ma'am this is not allowed-"

"Please!" You begged them.

"I'm sorry, this is for authorized-"

"Y/n!" You turned around, desperate to believe what you were hearing.

"Carlos! Carlos, please tell me he's okay" you ran to the only person that you felt would care enough to tend to your worries.

"They're taking him to the hospital" he sighed, bowing his head, his fingertips barely holding his helmet.

"W-why?" You stuttered. He finally looked at you.

"Let's just go"

You silently followed Carlos to his car after he quickly changed out of his suit. The drive to the hospital drove you insane. So many questions. Wondering about so much, too much at once.

As soon as Carlos parked outside the emergencies, you ran out of the car and through the glass doors, not caring about all the chaos going just outside of them.

"How serious is it?!"

"Do you think Leclerc will be able to go back to racing?!"

"Will he be there for the next race?!"

It was a lot. Too much, even. You wanted to scream them away. Tell them that this wasn't the time to ask all those questions with bright cameras and microphones everywhere. To respect the other patients' and their families' privacy. But you care more about Charles right now. So you kept running until your hands hit the edge of the counter.

"Charles Leclerc just came in" you breathed. The nurse widened her eyes at your state and just pointed to where he was.

You got to his bed in no time, him just lying there, unconscious. You immediately held his hand and the waterworks began. Carlos walked into the curtain closed space and stood in front of the bed, leaning on the edge.

"Hey" he called so quietly. You just kept crying.

"I don't recommend dating a Formula One driver if you'll cry this hard every time he crashes" he said casually. You stopped sobbing and looked up and to your left. You glared. Carlos shrugged.

"Just saying" he said, looking away.

"Carlos!" You whined. He looked at you, but you just went back to looking at Charles.

You noticed some bruises already forming on his hands. You held it tighter. You felt like time was not moving. It just dragged on and on. Carlos stood there. You sat there. Charles laid there. Just like that. For eternity.

"You didn't eat anything. What do you want?" Carlos' voice reminded you of his existence. You slowly turned to look at him, your tears barely dried on your face.

"How can you be so…chill?" You asked. Not in annoyance. Just out of pure curiosity. Carlos frowned at you for a second, before breaking into a fit of laughter. You stared at him blankly, your hand still holding Charles' tightly.

"I'm telling you! This sport is not for the faint of heart!" He waved a warning finger at you and you frowned at him. This time in annoyance.

"We just" he sighed when he stopped laughing, only a smile left behind from it.

"We get used to this. To seeing it. To being victims of it" he said ever so casually that it terrified you. It was terrifying the things passion makes a person do. How far people would go for what they love.

"I'm getting food and you will eat it. Charles would kill me if he woke up to a starving you while I was just hanging here. Deal?" He raised a brow at you. You hesitated, but Carlos kept his gaze. You finally nodded.

"Good. I'll be back in a bit" he said before leaving. You watched him go and something warm filled you. Gratitude.

You were grateful for him staying with you. With Charles. Not all drivers care enough to do that, unfortunately. You didn't notice the smile on your face until a few minutes later. When Charles spoke.

"What's so funny?" He mumbled. Your eyes shot to his and you stood up in an instant.

"Charles?!" You exclaimed, tears filling your eyes for the millionth time today. He just blinked, wincing.

“Who won the race?” He asked, still trying to find his voice.

"Oh my god" you covered your face, walking away from his bed in disbelief.

“Seriously?!” You spun around, crying. You wanted to fight even harder when a smile slowly took form on his tired face.

“Charles do you know how terrified I was?! And all you’re worried about is who won that race?!” You kept scolding. He placed one arm behind his head, still watching you in amusement. You breathed heavily, not bothering to wipe your tears as you crossed your arms over your chest.

You watched him laying there, smiling with his arm under his head, giving him better view of your tear-stained face.

“You know what?” He spoke. You had to walk a step closer so you could hear him clearly.

“I don’t want to know who won the race. I want to know how on earth did I get this lucky” he started.

“Yeah! I’m so glad it just cane down to some bruises. And, and, you’re awake, and you’re talking, and you seem okay!” You rambled, now sitting by his side on the edge of the bed. He chuckled softly at you missing what he meant, raising a hand to wipe your tears, then tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Right when I realized what was happening, there was one thought that kept echoing in my mind” he whispered, suddenly all serious. Your heartbeat quickened, not enjoying the memory of watching him crash and not knowing what he was feeling or if he was going to be okay.

“I just kept thinking ‘fuck. I didn’t get to tell her I love her’” he confessed. You raised your brows slightly, surprised at the sudden confession. You’ve been together for three months now and neither of you had said it, yet.

But there it was. And it felt like the world that crumbled after the race was patched and stitched back to perfect, pristine condition.

You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips. Charles smiled as well, his heart monitor exposing how important this moment was to him.

You leaned down and wrapped your arms around his neck carefully, holding him tightly to make up for all the fear of losing him. For all the fear of him not feeling the same way.

“I love you, too, Charles” you whispered.

You held each other for as long as it took for your flushed cheeks and racing hearts to quiet down, giving your new found feelings some sense of privacy.

Once you pulled away, your faces met, less than an inch apart. Charles leaned in. You were grateful there was no heart monitor on you, or that would’ve been the end.

“So, I didn’t know which is your favorite, so I got all flavors-“

Carlos’ voice sent you flying to your feet. Charles sat where he was and pierced his lips shut, staring at nothing in particular.

Carlos’ eyes danced between the two of you and he broke into a grin when he realized.

“I think it finally happened?” Carlos asked, hinting at what you both just confessed to one another. You glanced at Charles just to catch him glancing at you. He cleared his throat and you held back a smile.

“So now it’s serious, serious?” Carlos asked excitedly.

“Serious, serious” you both answered.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc ferrari #formula racing #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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givemefevrr · 2 months

Note

I just read your dom!enha post and jake ?? mr sim ?? the thought of him being possessive ??? ugh I'm the weakest soldier out there !! him seeing you run into your ex and just have a simple convo yet he gets moody af for the few next days without telling why he's suddenly like this then all this ending up in an angry sex ?? pleaseeeeeeee write it in your words I can't do this myself !!! love you in advance

- 🌷 anon

Is It Him or Me? (NSFW)

Pairings: possessive dom!Jake x fem!reader

Warnings: jealousy, possessiveness, light angst, rough sex, angry sex (all consentual), swearing, fingering, edging (?), cum eating (?), teasing, begging, overstimulation, kissing, dry humping, biting/marking, facials, pet names (baby, pretty girl, etc.), Heeseung is your ex

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Jake is a great boyfriend. He absolutely adores you, and whenever you are out together, he always holds your hand and steals kisses whenever he can. And that's exactly what is occurring right now.

Standing in line at a cafe, waiting to order, you couldn't help but giggle and squirm as Jake nuzzled into your neck, peppering your skin with soft, tickling kisses. Jake had been talking about bringing you here for months, as this was his favorite coffee joint, which he used to work at all through high school. It's on the other side of town, so it was a bit of a trip. But he chose the perfect day to bring you.

"Stop it, Jake, that tickles," you playfully protest, gently pushing him away amidst your laughter.

With a grin and sparkling eyes, Jake teased, "But you love it when I tickle you," punctuating his words with a lingering kiss on your cheek.

Suppressing your laughter, you swatted at him. "Not in public, you goof," you replied, noticing amused glances from others in the line.

Jake chuckled, intertwining his fingers with yours as he turned his attention to the menu. "So, what are you in the mood for?" he asked, excitement radiating from him–practically making him vibrate.

"Hmm, what would you recommend, Mr. Barista?" You asked, scanning the menu before smiling up at Jake.

Eyes lighting up, Jake exclaimed, "Vanilla latte, of course! That's what I'm getting. Their vanilla lattes are the best. Well, at least when I worked here, they were."

You scoffed at his pride but ultimately decided on the vanilla latte.

But then you saw him. The bell atop the door chimed, a gust of wind blowing into the cafe upon their entrance. The familiar man seemed to recognize you, too, as he locked eyes with you and walked over.

It's your ex-boyfriend.

It's not like the two of you left off on bad terms, but you guys haven't talked or seen each other since the breakup, making this incredibly awkward.

"Hey," your ex greeted, approaching you with a friendly smile.

You glanced at Jake slightly before answering, the boy paying little attention to the conversation. Responding with forced nonchalance, you exchanged pleasantries, hoping the conversation would end soon.

"I didn't expect to run into you here," your ex continued, "It's quite a trip from Hillsdale, huh?"

It's weird, considering you both live in the same town, yet he coincidentally showed up in the same cafe, almost 45 minutes away, at the same time as you.

"Yeah, it's just a day trip," you nod.

He nods, too, the awkwardness becoming increasingly more apparent the longer the conversation continues.

"So, how have you been? What have you been up to? You look good," he complimented, looking you up and down.

"Ah, I've been great. I finally got a temp job for that marketing company downtown," you smiled softly, proud of your achievements.

"That's amazing! Yeah, I work at a car dealership about 10 minutes away from this place now. What a coincidence, though," he chuckled, finally becoming aware of Jake standing beside him. "Who's this?"

"Oh, Jake. This is Heeseung," you glanced at Jake once more. "My ex," you added a bit quieter, noticing that you'd caught the attention of other people around you.

You could feel Jake's grip on your hand tightening upon hearing that Heeseung was your ex, but he said nothing–masking any discomfort with a forced smile.

"Heeseung, this is my boyfriend, Jake." Heeseung looked like a deer in headlights, an embarrassed flush rising on his neck as he let out a matching embarrassed laugh.

"Oh, my bad, man. I didn't even know," he laughed, sticking a hand towards Jake for a truce.

Jake wore a small, forced smile and shook Heeseung's hand. "You're all good," he replied.

"Well, I'll leave you two be." Heeseung looked back at you. "We'll have to catch up again sometime," he said before walking to the back of the line.

After he left, there was a silence between you and Jake. You leaned into his shoulder slightly, cuddling up to him, as cuddles always made him feel better. Feeling uncomfortable, you broke the silence and said, "Well, it was nice seeing him again, I guess."

Jake nodded but didn't say anything, his grip on your hand tightening as you both stood in line at the cafe.

When it was your turn to order, you excitedly ordered the vanilla latte Jake recommended. However, Jake didn't even bother getting anything for himself, even though this was allegedly his favorite place. He put a twenty-dollar bill on the counter and mumbled for the cashier to keep the change, around $15. He just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

As your drink was being made, you and Jake waited by the to-go station. When the kind barista boy handed you your drink and said, "Have a great day. I hope you enjoy the nice weather," you reached out to take it.

But Jake beat you to it, grabbing it from the boy and handing it to you instead. "Let's go," he said, practically dragging you out of the cafe.

Trying not to spoil the date with his attitude, he suggested walking around the city to enjoy the weather.

He bought you some light pink and blue flowers from a small vendor, seeing you croon at them, knowing they were your favorite kind.

Next, you walked across a footbridge over a stream, asking Jake to take a picture of you with the beautiful view in the background. You walked, thinking about how Jake had the privilege of taking this beautiful path home from school every day.

Finally, as the sun set, you both decided to stop at an ice cream shop. The shop's perimeters had a swinging chair facing a small body of water with fishing docks along the edges. You two sat on the swinging chair with your ice cream in hand, Jake having chosen not to get anything for himself once again.

He had been trying to make the day fun by buying you flowers and taking you to these nice places from his childhood. But even as he handed the flowers to you, you saw his expression falter. Even as he walked across the bridge with you, he hadn't even told you that story about him taking the bridge path home from school–you made that up yourself to fill the gaps of what wasn't spoken. And even as he sits with you now, he sits on the other side of the swing, resting on his chin in his hand on the armrest. His sulky mood and his distance are so unlike him.

Jake had tried not to ruin the date, but his emotions were still visible despite his efforts.

You leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, thanking him for the "wonderful" day. But he remained quiet, fidgeting with his hands and avoiding your gaze.

And he said nothing on the car ride home as well, only having a hand attached to your thigh as he drove silently.

–

Jake was certainly in some sort of mood, as his behavior persisted for the next few days.

He became increasingly distant, his temper flaring at the most minor inconveniences. If he ran out of milk for his cereal, he'd fly into a rage to the point tears would well up in his eyes as he curled up on the floor in frustration for hours.

He seemed to withdraw from you completely, barely initiating hugs or kisses like he used to. You tried to talk to him and understand what was happening, but he remained tight-lipped, shutting you out of whatever bothered him.

Almost every night ended with him laying in your lap, upset at something to the point he's shaking, and you running your hands through his hair to try to calm him down. He'd eventually fall asleep in your lap, only to be up and gone elsewhere before you woke up in the morning.

Then, one day, something happened that pushed Jake over the edge. It was one of those nights you found yourself playing with his hair, trying to soothe him as he wrestled with his inner demons.

It was almost bedtime, and you wore only one of his baggy t-shirts and underwear, as you usually did for bed. You were on your phone, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, when a notification popped up. It was from your ex—he was trying to follow you.

You hesitated, reading it, and weren't planning on accepting the request, yet Jake must have thought otherwise. He tensed up upon seeing the notification.

And moments later, he was sitting upright, his arms practically caging you between him and the couch cousin, kissing you roughly, placing your phone on the floor. You weren't against his sudden switch-up, as you haven't gotten a kiss from him in almost a week now.

You opened your mouth as he asked for entrance, tonguing at your lips. And as he deepened the kiss, he began moving, causing you to chase his lips, following his movements. He lifted you off the couch, carrying you to your room, refusing to let go of your lips, and once he met the edge of your bed, he immediately plopped you down and crawled on top of you, kissing down your neck, sucking and biting dark marks into your skin.

"I fucking hate him," Jake grunted into your neck, his voice muffled, and you barely just caught what he said.

A lightbulb lit up in your head. Ah, that makes sense.

"Is that why you've been in such a mood lately? Because of one interaction I had with Heeseung, who I haven't thought about for years?" you asked, lifting his head up from your skin.

Jake's eyes bore into yours, filled with anger and frustration. "Don't say his name," he commanded, his mood worsening. So, you decided not to press the issue further, realizing that mentioning Heeseung's name only fueled Jake's anger.

Jake ducked back to your neck, lips trailing down. His kisses became more urgent as he pushed your shirt up, revealing your skin underneath. His hands roamed up the sides of your body, his touch desperate and needy. You could feel the intensity of his emotions in every kiss, every touch.

Jake continued to kiss down your chest, his movements almost rushed. His hands roamed over your back, slipping up the back of your sports bra.

"Off–" He grunted, already pushing your shirt up and off your shoulders along with the bra, leaving you only in your underwear. "Take it all off."

His mouth immediately connected back to your skin, biting your shoulder and kissing all the way down to your chest, where he took his time marking you up. You ran your fingers through his hair, gently guiding and reassuring him with your touch. Despite his roughness, Jake's actions were vulnerable.

His hands gripped your hips and thighs and squeezed roughly, his fingers definitely leaving bruises. You tugged on his shirt, to which he willingly took it off, yet eager to return to your skin.

"Mine…" Jake kissed down your chest to your stomach, mumbling the word repeatedly. "You're mine. Say it." Jake's voice was low, his gaze on you dark, staring at your body with pure rage and hunger.

"I'm yours," you giggled. You had never seen him like this before and found it slightly endearing.

But he wasn't having any of that. "This isn't a fucking joke. Say it." he scolded, gripping your face and effectively grabbing your attention. "Say that you're mine and not… not his…"

Yet with the way he squeezed your cheeks with one hand–pushing your lips out, making you look stupid–there was no way for you to coherently do as he asked. But you try nonetheless.

With a whimper, looking right into his blown-out pupils, you said, "I'm yours. O-only yours, I promise," as best you could.

His possessiveness only turned you on more, and you could feel yourself growing wetter with every touch. Satisfied with the response, his lips crashed back down onto yours hungrily. He growled against your lips, letting go of your face and using that hand to roam down your body, his fingers hovering outside your panties.

You squeaked into his mouth, thrashing slightly as his thumb rubbed hard at your clit, overstimulating you.

He pinned your hips down on the mattress to prevent you from squirming, continuing his administrations with a sick grin on his lips. You watched his face as his anger turned into lust, fueled by pure jealousy. You grabbed onto his shoulders, pulling him closer as you rocked your hips against his hand.

Smirking, he added more pressure to your clit, causing you to try to writhe even more.

"More," you whimper almost inaudibly.

"Hm?" Jake asked, as if he didn't hear you. But with the look on his face, you could tell that he did. "You want me to stop?" You whimpered softly, shaking your head and reaching for his hand.

Despite that, he stopped touching where you needed it the most, earning a whine and more squirming, even though he's not touching you anymore.

"N-no, please don't stop," you whined, reaching for his wrist and pulling it back to your heat.

He just looked at you condescending as you humped his hand, and if you were in a normal state of mind, you would have had enough social awareness to stop–but you were far too horny right now.

"Please," you begged again, looking up at him with eyes glossed over with need, your hips bucking against his hand as you desperately tried to get more friction.

Jake smirked at your eagerness before giving you mercy, pulling your panties off and sliding a finger inside you, making you gasp. He grunted in response, returning to trailing hot kisses on your skin. You could feel his teeth grazing over your skin, knowing that by the time he's done, you'll be covered in bruises for days.

And that only turned you on even more.

"Oh god–" your breath hitches in your throat, your fingers gripping the sheets tightly.

"You like that, don't you, baby? My fingers inside you?" he purred, watching as you twitched and whined beneath him. "You love how I make you feel, how I can make you fall apart with just my fingers."

"Yes, so good– Fuck," you moaned, arching your back in pleasure as he added another finger and began to thrust harder and curl his fingers just how you like it, stretching you and filling you in a way that only he could. His other hand pressed against your lower stomach, the pressure making you even more sensitive.

"He doesn't know how to fucking touch you like I do," Jake rasped, his voice laced with arrogance. "I know just by the way you came so hard the first time I fingered you–there's no way that fucker has made you cum before. Only I can make you feel this good."

You could only nod wordlessly, unable to form a coherent sentence. Jake loved every second of it, the smug smirk never leaving his face. Your hands reach down to his sweatpants, trying to undo them.

"You want it so bad, don't you?" He cocked his head to the side, almost condescending. You frantically nod, hoping he'll just give you what you want like he usually does. And you get hopeful with how Jake chuckles darkly and pulls his pants down a bit, exposing his throbbing cock.

You mewled a bit as he pulled out his fingers and brought them to his lips, licking them clean with a satisfied look. He positions himself at your entrance and leans over you, his face inches from yours. But his following words crush all hope, and you know you'll have to do more begging. "Do you want me? Or do you want him?"

"You," the desperation in your voice was clear and urgent. "Please. I don't want Heesueng, only want you. Just you–"

But before you can finish begging, Jake slams into you, filling you completely.

"Didn't I tell you not to fucking say his name?" His hands grip your hips tightly as he starts to pump into you, pulling you back onto him with each thrust. He doesn't hold back, his pace rough and frantic with all his pent-up rage and jealousy.

You let out a moan, arching your back. Jake was rough, and it was shocking. But oh, it felt good. It felt better than anyone you had been with before. Jake knew your body so well and knew exactly how to make you lose control.

You dig your nails into his shoulders, neither caring about the deep red marks as you press into his skin. Your walls clench around him, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge of sanity.

Jake's voice breaks during one of his moans. "C-can't believe he saw you like this before. I f-fucking hate him. Only I'm allowed to see you like this," he pants and his movements become sloppy, holding your hips down tightly as he continues to fuck you mercilessly. And his movements continued to get more and more desperate, his words becoming incoherent as he kept mentioning your ex.

You could feel the familiar coil in your stomach tighten as you were pushed closer and closer to your breaking point. "P-please, m' gonna–" you gasp, clenching your teeth together as Jake's cock hits just the right spot inside you.

He uses a hand that was holding your hip to rub circles over your clit, trying to coax you to your orgasm. He then moves his other hand back to your lower belly, pressing down on it hard, like he did earlier. He hadn't done this before tonight, but you wish he had because you can feel his cock pressing against all the right spots even more now. You can't help but feel a bit jealous yourself, wondering who he learned that from.

But regardless, the added stimulation sent you over the edge, your body shaking as you came hard around Jake's cock, pulling some stray swears from him.

But Jake wasn't done with you yet. He kept fucking you, even as you rode out your orgasm, pushing you into overstimulation. You could barely form a coherent thought as he continued to pound into you, his own release still building inside him.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he grunted, his thrusts becoming shorter and rougher. "My pretty girl. I'm gonna cum all over your pretty face."

And with one final hard thrust, he pulled out, maneuvering himself to jerk off over your face.

You were cock drunk at this point, and your face must have shown this, as Jake chuckled deeply. He cooed, brushing his hand on your cheek and wiping away tears you didn't know had fallen. "Awe, who did this to you? Who's got you all fucked out like this?"

And you finally made out a broken "you" through your whines and panting.

"Yeah, that's right," your response makes his grin widen, seemingly with pride. "Me, not him," Jake spoke as if trying to convince himself more than you.

It only takes a couple more tugs before his hot release splatters across your face, his moans and deep laughter mixed with one another as he comes down from his high.

When he's done, he crawls to lay next to you, seemingly a whole new person.

His puppy-like personality is back, wearing the loving smile he always has when looking at you as he wipes his cum off your face with the corner of your sheets.

Afterwards, he peppers your face and lips with soft kisses, speaking equally soft words. "I'm sorry, baby," he nestles up next to you as you do the same thing, a small smile on your face, still kind of out of it. Was that too much? I've just been so moody lately because of…yeah."

"No, I just wish you'd talk to me and not let everything build up." You pout, placing your palm on his cheek before snorting out a laugh. "Not that it wasn't amazing. I've never seen you so possessive–it was hot."

He giggled at this, too, a soft blush rising in the apple of his cheeks.

"But really, talk to me next. You aren't okay after something like that. Okay?"

"Gotcha," He scoffs before peppering you with kisses all over again.

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Ahh!! I guess your my first anon 🌷 :)

Also, apologies for the insane word count, I yap a lot as you can tell 😅

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augustinewrites · 5 months

Text

[twenty-two minutes to midnight]

hange zoe is a special brand of stupid.

at least that’s what levi thinks as his friend says, stupidly, “if neither of us are kissing anyone at midnight, i guess i’ll have to kiss you, levi.”

levi ackerman makes it his special mission to be as far as possible from his friend before the clock strikes 12. when it comes to hange, his ever-scowling lips are for critical judgment and insults only.

“pass,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes when they pout at him.

“but what about all those times you asked me how to—”

“this conversation is over,” he deadpans, emphasizing his point by walking away.

but levi has learned long ago that there’s no walking away from hange. they drags themselves up and away from the table to follow, throwing a heavy arm around his shoulders. “why not though? are you planning on kissing someone else tonight?”

their tone is teasing, but their eyes give them away. hange’s fishing for a specific answer.

“no,” he answers much too quickly to be nonchalant.

his friend just smirks. “she’s here, you know. erwin said she just got back a few weeks ago.”

“i had no idea.” (he already knew.)

“she’s still single.”

“i don’t care.” (he might care.)

they hum thoughtfully. “so you wouldn’t mind if i kissed her instead?”

levi doesn’t answer this time, shoving his friend’s arm off his shoulder and trying to disappear into the party.

erwin’s parties were always too big, in his opinion. he packed his penthouse apartment to the brim, and how anyone had this many friends, he had no idea. at least the sheer amount of people would allow him the opportunity to slip away, maybe hide in some quiet corner wearing a scowl that could repel the bravest souls.

(and if he hides, there’s no way he’ll run into you, right?)

[twelve minutes to midnight]

by merely thinking of you, levi’s mother would probably say he was tempting fate. his mother was almost always right, loathe as he was to admit it.

because, yeah, it’s barely twenty minutes later when he spots you across the room, sipping champagne while chatting with miche and hange.

you have your back to him, but he knows that it’s you. it’s instinct— the way his eyes linger down the familiar shape of your body. he traces each curve draped in blue silk the way his hands once did.

levi could go over there. he could tell you that you look gorgeous in that dress. he could tell you that he misses you, needs you, loves you…

but then miche would make that face, and hange would fail to bite back that smile, and levi would have to block both their numbers and all their social media accounts again.

he could tell you these things, but he’s never figured out how. levi likes to handle things on his own and refuses to show weakness to anyone.

so he turns on his heel and heads in the opposite direction instead, towards the kitchen to look for a drink. he wasn’t really one for alcohol, but he needed it tonight.

he’s frowning over the various bottles when erwin appears, a knowing grin on his face. he has a habit of materializing out of nowhere when levi’s at his weakest.

“looking for anything in particular?” the blond asks.

“just a beer,” he mutters.

erwin hums, contemplative, then lists various drinks. “let’s see. there are have craft brews, ipa, winter wheat—”

levi makes a face. when the fuck did beer get complicated? “what the hell is a winter wheat?”

“it’s beer, levi,” he chuckles, shooting him an amused look. it lasts a second too long, and is followed by, “you saw her, didn’t you?”

“what does that have to do—”

“are we talking about levi’s love life?”

“no, we’re not,” levi snaps, shooting miche a warning glare that his dumb friend chooses to ignore.

“come on, we’ve known about your crush for years now,” the man continues, judging him slightly. “remember when you got drunk on hange’s birthday?”

“ah, yes,” erwin sighs, as if he’s recalling a particularly fond memory. “when you announced that you sorely missed—”

“oh my god. i hate my life,” levi mutters, turning on his heel and making his escape as the two grown men giggle like schoolgirls. he grabs the most expensive looking bottle of liquor, yanking the cork out and tossing it onto the counter.

“maybe you’ll hate your life less if you get laid!”

levi flips them both off before slipping out onto the balcony, content to hide out here until the countdown is over. the door slowly slides shut behind him, muffling the mellow music and cheery laughter inside.

he sets the bottle he’d swiped on the parapet, looking out at the twinkling city lights. these parties were much too suffocating, full of bright-eyed people that seemed keen on conversing with him no matter how reproachful his gaze.

he doesn’t turn around when he hears the door slide open and shut behind. he already knows who’s followed him outside.

winter here provides a crisp cool, but levi doesn’t mind, slipping his suit jacket off and tossing it onto a patio chair. you don’t seem to mind it either, bare back pressed against the parapet as you smile over at him.

“you didn’t say hello,” you murmur, leaning towards him. levi steals a glance at you, eyes wandering down the column of your neck to the tempting plunge of your neckline.

“hey,” he grunts, holding out the bottle he’d swiped in offering.

you accept it, taking a small sip. your face immediately pinches in displeasure, causing levi’s to crack with a small grin.

“how’s your night?” you ask out of nowhere.

“bored,” he answers stiffly, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the patio. “though i don’t suppose you actually care.”

you chuckle at that, your amusement barely audible over the breeze. you both know that’s not true. “just making conversation.”

“you’re pretty shit at it.”

the air between you both is suddenly hot, but levi shivers at the brush of your fingers against the corded muscle of his arm. your touch burns like fire across his skin as you murmur,

“shut me up then.”

his gaze falls to your mouth, pulse thundering in his ears as he leans forward and closes the distance. levi moves on instinct, locking a hand around your hip and pulling you closer. he swallows your surprised gasp with a kiss, but you don’t pull away.

he kisses you softly at first, each touch and movement of his mouth hesitant as he tests your boundaries. your hands move up his chest, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt collar and somehow pulling him closer, kissing him back with a fervor that makes him dizzy. your insistent mouth parts his lips, sending tremors through his nerves and awakening sensations he wants to feel again. it’s a good kiss. not bad for the first one you share in front of your friends (who are all gathered at the window) announcing your relationship as the clock the strikes midnight.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot x reader #aot fluff #levi ackerman x you

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ravenromanova · 7 months

Text

I fucking hate you

Parings: Bucky x Female avenger reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, Mean Bucky (only for a little). SMUTTTTT DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18+! Daddy kink, Metal arm kink, Praise kink, Hate fucking, Breeding kink, Unprotected sex, Oral (m and f), Fingering. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE

Summary: When you and Bucky are forced to have a therapy session after a mission gone wrong you two find another way to let the anger out.

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The sound of the clock ticking mixed with a pen tapping against a notebook drives you insane as you stare at the wall. It’s been thirty minutes of silence with neither you or Bucky daring to speak first. In your eyes this session was pointless. He was the one who fucked up the mission and yet youre paying for it by having a therapy session with him.

The mission was a simple intel mission… or it should’ve been until Bucky went off the rails and got the both of you captured. Luckily you were able to get yourselves freed before anything bad happened. But nevertheless you were told by Fury and Maria that you two needed to fix the issues between you. Honestly you didn’t hate Bucky as much as you led on but he could be such an insufferable asshole sometimes.

He would constantly pick on you like a small child, belittle your powers and abilities, and not to mention he would constantly ditch you during missions. So since he wanted to be an asshole you decided that being a petty bitch would get him to stop… You were very wrong and that just seemed to make it worse for you.

All in all you were completely infatuated with the super soldier but it was clear he had no interest in you. So you kept up the petty bitch act and that just meant the two of you were constantly at war with one another.

“This is a waste of time, It wasnt even my fault the mission got fucked up so im not even sure why im here.” You state crossing your arms looking at Dr.Raynor.

“The reason youre here y/n is so you and James can work through whatever it is going on in hopes that you two start getting along” The older woman says with a slight shake to her head.

“I wouldn’t have a problem with him if he wasnt such a dick” Your words made Bucky whip his head to look at you with a scowl on his face.

“Oh im the asshole? What about you huh? You’re a fucking pest and not to mention the weakest one on the team” He scoffed looking back at raynor.

“THE WEAKEST ONE? The only thing special about you came from a fucking test tube” You retort feeling yourself about to explode from rage.

“Oh so that’s how we are gonna play this?” He asked cocking his head to the side with a smug smile.

“You act like youre tough shit when in all reality take off the arm and take away the serum then what are you? A amputee with a military background.. You aren’t that special” Your words hit a part of him he didn’t know existed anymore.

“Okay enough you two!” Dr.Raynor said before Bucky had the chance to respond. “This is ridiculous! Throwing insults back and forth wont help whatever is going on between you two” She continued and you and Bucky huffed.

“It definitely makes me feel better knowing miss priss over here gets knocked down a few pegs” He mumbles under his breath.

“Okay that’s it! I’m fucking done. I cant do this shit anymore. You wanna hate me? fine. Guess what? I fucking hate you too” You said standing up abruptly and slamming the door as you exit the room.

Bucky and Dr.Raynor both looked at each other and sighed. “Why cant you just be honest with her?” She asked him making him roll his eyes.

“I dont know what youre talking about” He shakes his head making the older woman groan.

“Dont play dumb James. We both know how you feel about y/n you are just to chicken shit to tell her” She retorts raising her eyebrows at the solider.

“You’re a terrible therapist” He retorts shaking his head at her comment. Yes Bucky was madly in love with you but he didn’t think you’d feel the same after his past and how he’s treated you.

Ever since Bucky had come back from being blipped he found it difficult to readjust to life yet again. So he did what he always did he threw himself into his work. Avenging became the only thing he did day in and day out. He had met you during a meeting when you were introduced as the newest Avenger. You were all bright and bubbly towards everyone even him.

Naturally he avoided you not wanting to taint the sunshine that shined from within. But despite him being a dick to you, you still smiled at him during training, said good morning whenever you saw him in the mornings. You were just always sweet to him for some reason even though he had never shown you kindness. Well that was until six months ago when one day you were just as bitchy to him as he was you.

For some reason that hurt Bucky more than he thought possible. He didn’t think he would miss your sunshiny attitude until it was gone. The two of you started fighting amend arguing over everything for the past six months. The entire team was annoyed by the sudden escalation in you and Bucky’s relationship. Normally he would just be cold to you and that was it. But now you’ve started fighting back which was a surprise to everyone since you were normally so quiet. Bucky missed the ray of sunshine you used to be but he also didn’t want to taint you with his presence.

But nevertheless Bucky kept up his whole thing of messing with you and you started being bitchy right back, which was why the two of you were forced into therapy together.

“Go tell her how you feel James, That’s youre homework for the week” Dr.Raynor said breaking Bucky out of his thoughts.

“And if i dont?” He pushed tilting his head. The woman looked at him then sighed.

“If you dont ill make sure you and Peter are assigned on the same missions for six months” She threatened and Bucky’s eyes widened at the thought of being stuck with parker on missions.

“Okay okay no need to do all that” He said standing up and putting his hands up in defeat. The older woman laughed to herself as she watched Bucky walk out her office.

Bucky had left the office to go and find you but had no luck. He had looked for you in all of your normal spots kitchen, living room, game room, your room but you weren’t there. It wasnt until he decided to check the training room that he had found you. You were at the punching bags hitting them as hard as you could to get out your anger.

“Y/n?” He said softly as he approached you carefully not wanting to startle you. You had turned around to face him with your chest heaving and your face sweaty.

“What Bucky?” Your voice dripped with venom as you spoke. Bucky had ran his hand through his hair sighing a little.

“Look i just wanted to say im sorry” He said and you looked for any hints of sarcasm or anything in his eyes but found none.

“I’m sorry im gonna need you to repeat that” You brought a hand to your ear acting like you didn’t hear him.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole. I never meant to hurt youre feelings doll” Bucky repeated but this time adding in a nickname that made your heart race.

“i-its okay” You stutter out not really fathoming the fact that Bucky is apologizing or that fact that he used a nickname to address you instead of an insult.

“No its not- i-i just dont know how to handle my emotions properly and i took it out on you when i shouldn’t have” His hands didn’t their way to your hips as he speaks. Your eyes go to his wands on your waist and then back up to him.

“It’s okay Bucky i get it” You say as your hands find their way to his shoulders. Bucky’s flesh hand moved to cup your face as he looked into your eyes making you melt. He slowly rubs his thumb against your cheek making you smile and lean into his touch.

“Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?” The question comes out shaky when you speak.

“Because it wasnt until you said that you hated me that i realized i fucked up and treated the one person who has never looked at me like a monster like shit. And i couldn’t stand the thought of you hating me.” He said honestly and for the first time you could see genuine emotion in his eyes.

“And whys that?” You ask stepping a little closer to him with a small smile.

“Because im in love with you” Bucky admits bringing you into a passionate kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss earning a small groan from him. The two of you get so wrapped up in each other you forget to come up for air.

“I-I love you too” You admit after you catch your breath making him smile. Bucky then picks you up and you wrap your legs around his waist. He then carries you out of the training room and takes you to his.

When he brings you back to his room he lays you down on the bed before getting on top of you. He slots himself between your legs as he brings you in for another heated kiss. You moan into the kiss as you feel his hands roam all over your body. Bucky’s hands find the hem of your shorts and pull them down your thighs not breaking the kiss.

“Please” You whisper against his lips feeling his metal hand graze your dripping core. He sits on his knees and takes off you shirt then bra before sucking on your nipple. You throw your head back in pleasure letting out a moan.

“Oh fuck” Bucky takes his metal hand and finds his way in your panties and starts playing with your clit. “Yes daddy” You whimper breathlessly feeling the cool metal come into contact with your heat.

“Oh you like that kotenok?’ He asks after he releases your nipple with a pop. You nod your head and whisper a ‘Yes’ and start bucking your hips against his hand.

“Please please fuck me” You beg moving your hand down to his clothed crotch.

“So needy” He mocks unbuckling his belt and drops his pants on the floor before taking off his boxers and shirt. Once he’s fully naked in front of you, you cant help but stare at his reddened cock standing at attention for you.

You sit up so you come face to face with the red tip and wrap your hand around the base of his cock. His eyes go wide and his breath catches in his throat when you lick the pre cum off his slit.

“So good” You whisper before you hollow out your cheeks and take him into your mouth. His hands instantly find their way into your hair trying to resist fucking your throat. You tap his thigh letting him know he can use you as he pleases.

Bucky then grips onto your hair tighter and starts to thrust into your throat. “Fuck kotenok” He whines feeling your tongue graze the vein of his cock. You open your throat as much as you can so you can fully take him and sink down to the base of his cock.

“Fuck- i-im gonna cum if you keep doing that” He grunts feeling your throat open and close around him. His thrusts gets sloppy as he feels himself about to finish. He abruptly stops thrusting and pulls himself out of your throat making you whine.

“As much as id love to make you swallow id much rather breed that pretty pussy” Bucky says wiping the drool off your chin making you nod your head. You quickly get on all fours in front of him and wiggle your ass making him smack it.

“Yes daddy” You moan in delight feeling his metal hand come into contact with your soft skin. Bucky smirks and smacks the other cheek making you moan happily.

“You like that baby?” He coos rubbing the red marks he’s left making you shiver.

“Mhm” You nod backing your ass up against his cock. He takes the sign and slowly eases himself into you before bottoming out.

“So tight” He groans pulling out then thrusting back in. You scream in delight feeling his thick cock stretch you out. You weren’t a virgin in the slightest but Bucky had definitely been the biggest you’d ever taken.

“S-So big daddy” The words come out broken as you feel his tip kiss your g-spot.

“You can take it baby. Take daddy’s cock be a good girl and take it so i can fill you up. Would you like that? Do you want me to breed you and make you a mommy?” He asks wrapping his metal arm around your neck bringing you up to get a new angle.

“OH FUCK YES” You scream at the new angle feeling him in a new way. The thought of Bucky breeding you makes your eyes roll back and your brain go fuzzy. “Please-please fill me up daddy” You bed as his thrusts get harder.

“Oh i will kotenok dont worry” He says squeezing his hand a little around your neck. You never thought in a million years you’d have all your fantasies come true but fuck were you loving it.

“G-Gonna cum daddy… can i cum?” The question is choked out making Bucky smile.

“Yes baby cum for me im right behind you” He said and that’s when the coil in your stomach snapped and you came all over him. Feeling your warm walls clench down on him sent him over the edge, and he wrapped his flesh at around your stomach holding you close as he came. Bucky’s thrusts slowed down as he fucked his cum into you ensuring none would leak out.

“Fuck baby” He groaned in your ear giving you kisses up and down your neck and collarbone. “You did so good kotenok” Bucky praised slowly pulling out but still holding you close. Once he pulled out he laid you against the pillows and settled in between your legs again.

“T-Thank you daddy” You said in a fucked out haze trying to catch your breath. Bucky kisses from your chest down to your thighs and then settles his face in front of your pussy. He spreads your wet folds with his flesh hand before leaving a kiss on your clit.

‘Too sensitive daddy-cant-please-“ You protest trying to close your thighs but failing as he holds them apart.

“Just wanna taste you baby” He whispers giving your thigh a kiss. Not trusting your voice you opt your nodding and letting him do what he wants.

He slowly licks a stipe from your hole to clit making you whimper and cry out. Bucky groans at the way you taste and starts eating you like a man starved. His lips wrap around you clit and starts sucking lightly making you claw at his back.

“Yes yes yes” You chant feeling another orgasm about to rip through you. He picks up the pace and starts sloppily eating your pussy making you feel like never before.

“Gonna cum!” You scream arching your back off his bed and gripping the sheets as you finish on his tongue. Bucky groans in satisfaction and licks you clean before bringing you into a messy kiss.

“So fucking good” He praised after he broke the kiss. You smiled at him and feel back against the pillows in a haze. You felt the bed dip and you saw Bucky walk into the bathroom and grab a wet cloth. He came back to the bed and cleaned you up while telling you how good you did.

“You’re so perfect” He whispered in your ear laying down next to you. You crawled over to him and laid your head on his chest looking up at his pretty blue eyes.

“Not too bad yourself” Bucky laughed at your comment bringing you in for a loving kiss. “I could get used to that” You said with a cheeky grin on your face making him roll his eyes in faux annoyance.

“You better because now youre stuck with me” He said giving you a wink. The thought if being ‘stuck’ with him gave you butterflies and make you melt even more into hin.

“I think id be okay with that” You said pretending to think about it making Bucky laugh. He ran his hand through your hair and admired your beauty. In all of his 106 years on this earth he never thought he felt this way about someone. That was until you.. And he’ll be damned if he ever lets you get away again.

~The end~

I do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other cites

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lemonlover1110 · 9 months

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𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 3] Bugging Question

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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst

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Acting as if you think everything is okay overwhelms you. As okay as things can be while you’re getting a divorce. Toji swears that he’ll sign the papers tomorrow morning, and for now you’re cuddling. You’re hearing some light snoring from his part, and you can’t fall asleep. Not because you’re bothered by his snores, you’re already used to them.

You might be pregnant. You’re thinking about that possibility, and the fact that you don’t know what you’d do if you were. That’s why you didn’t ask Toji to stop at a pharmacy on your way back home. You don’t want him to know because you have no idea what you’re going to do and you know Toji’s hopes of you staying together will go up if you find out that you’re pregnant.

“What would you do if I was pregnant?” You mindlessly ask, knowing that your husband is fast asleep. You so badly want to stay, and you need to find an excuse to do so. But no good excuse is coming up, you have no reason to stay. It’s selfish to want a pregnancy to have an excuse to stay with him. You know better.

Toji doesn’t love you, that’s why you’re leaving. If you have a baby, things will get worse. You can’t have a kid to try and fix this worthless marriage. Reasoning isn’t in your mind, you just want to stay with the man you love so badly.

“I’d be happy…” He’s sleep talking. Occasionally you say something while he sleeps and he answers, yet when you ask about it in the next morning, he doesn’t remember anything. He doesn’t mean it, he’s babbling, but there’s a smile on your face.

“You would be? I thought you didn’t want kids.” You don’t know why you keep talking. His embrace tightens, and you feel yourself about to cry from happiness. It’s absurd. You’re delusional, you just want to stay with him. You have no idea why you’re slowly changing your mind after watching the movie.

“You know I love you.” He mutters, and you’re about to wake him up. You don’t want to get a divorce anymore. You take a moment to think about it, should you really wake him up? Maybe you can wait till tomorrow morning when you’re not so desperate to try and keep this all together. You find yourself weakest at night because his body is right next to you. You hear his heartbeat, his breathing, you take his scent, you feel his warmth; it’s hard not to be weak when your heart is heavy with love and he’s telling you that he reciprocates it.

You’re sure that in the morning you’ll be thinking the same exact thing. You need to stay with Toji. Until he mutters something else, and it isn’t your name. And the tears that are in your eyes spill, but they’re no longer tears of joy, on the contrary, they’re now tears of agony.

No matter what happens, you’re leaving.

You try to wiggle your way out of his arms, but his grip is too strong. You get away from him by mere inches, but he doesn’t waste any time in pulling you back so your back is pressed against him again.

You sigh.

Toji is gone in the morning, which doesn’t surprise you since he usually leaves to go to work early. You sit up on your bed, slowly gaining consciousness. You walk to the bathroom, and do your morning routine. You luckily have the day off since you knew you were moving out, you talked to your boss about it. You’ve been anticipating this day.

You think about your foolish thoughts of the previous night, your tired brain wanting to stay with Toji. Never in a million years will you stay with that man. You think that you’re over him, as soon as you can you’ll jump into the dating pool. Granted, you’ve completely forgotten about the fact that you possibly might be pregnant.

You go into the closet to grab the suitcases that you have packed, and you find them on the floor, one of them open and stuff has been taken out. Toji must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed, but you don’t care. You have time before he gets home. You can redo that suitcase, and you can neatly pack it up.

You change out of your pajamas into another comfortable outfit, after all, you are moving out. You grab your phone and look through your contacts, wondering who you can call for help. You don’t have your own car, and you want to avoid calling a taxi. Not only that, you have a lot of luggage and after moving there you have to go shopping for furniture. You don’t even have a bed to sleep on.

Everything could’ve been planned out much better, but you want to desperately get out. You barely have time to think anyway, so you won’t beat yourself up about it.

Your eyes land on a specific contact that you don’t know all that well: Shiu Kong, Toji’s friend and his best man at your wedding. You’re not too sure how they know each other, but you know that they’re friends. That’s all you know. You don’t have too many people to rely on, which is why your finger hovers over the contact. The only other person you can try to call is pregnant and you don’t– Fuck, pregnancy. Shit shit shit.

You have to take a test but you can’t do it here. Just thinking about that possibility makes your stomach churn. You want to be a mother but this situation is less than ideal. You can’t think about it, you have to focus on the task at hand. Which is why your finger clicks on the contact and you call him. The phone rings over and over again, and just as you’re about to hang up, he picks up the phone.

“Hello?” You nearly forgot how his voice sounded. You’re sure the last time you saw him was on your wedding night– No, it was a little after you moved into this apartment. Still, it was so long ago. He gave you his number in case any issue came up, and granted, you’ve never used it. “Who’s this?”

You tell him who you are, and it earns a laugh from him. He never really thought that you’d be using the number, but here you are. You feel a lump in your throat and with every passing second you get more and more anxious. Apart from Megumi, no one really knows about your separation from Toji. You hate saying it out loud, but you have to. “You live in town, right?”

“Uh… Yeah, what’s up?” He asks.

“Have you talked to Toji recently? Did he tell you what’s happening?” You question, and you hear a hum from the other side of your phone. You’re biting your bottom lip, asking yourself just how stupid you are. You were ready to do this alone but suddenly you’re scouring for someone to support you, and funnily enough, you landed on one of Toji’s friends. You sigh, “Can you do me a favor without contacting him?”

“Sure.” He doesn’t really hesitate which you appreciate.

“Are you too busy with work? I need to borrow you. It’s important.” You say.

“Guessing I’m your last resort.” He asks and you agree, trying to laugh it off. You don’t really have anyone to rely on. “Let me guess, you’re finally moving out.”

“I am.” You answer, and thankfully you don’t have to talk much before he tells you that he’ll be here. You hang up the phone and walk out of the room to the kitchen to try to eat something before your day officially gets started. There’s nothing too appetizing, you’re not doing the grocery shopping anymore which means Toji has taken over. It’s fair to say he’s horrible at the task. There’s only ketchup, mayonnaise, leftover rise and some other leftovers which you’re too scared to open.

You look into the pantry to find something else, and you only find some saltine crackers, which you take and begin to eat. You can’t be too picky right now. Just as you’re opening the pack, you notice some papers on the dining table, and you walk over to check what it is. You’re assuming it’s some paperwork that Toji has to sign, you overheard Megumi tell his father how he was planning on joining the baseball team and how he needed Toji to sign a couple of things and whatnot.

You feel your heart drop at what you find. You’d expect to find it on your nightstand, not on the dinner table. He just left it there for Megumi to see as well. And you have no idea why you’re about to cry since you’ve been begging him to sign those papers.

As you see the divorce papers, you realize that even though you’ve been trying to convince yourself that you’re done with Toji, that you don’t care anymore about this marriage or him, you still do. You very much care even though you’ve been trying not to.

You begin to cry, grieving a marriage that was never even worth it. You love him so much that it pains you. You bite down on your lip, holding back a sob as tears roll down your cheeks. You try to make yourself feel better by remembering all the bad times you’ve spent with him. Bad times were most prevalent in your marriage, so this shouldn’t be too bad, right?

So many insistences pop into your head where you’ve been begging for his love and you end up being an afterthought. It should make you feel better that this is happening, but you’re not; you’re devastated yet also bitter. Bitter because even though Toji claims that he loves you, he still couldn’t say your name.

You might be devastated, but the more you think about it, the more relieved you are.

It’s clear that you’ve been crying when Shiu picks you up. He doesn’t bother to ask much as he puts your luggage in the trunk and the backseat. He’s quiet when he drives to your new apartment, when you drop off your luggage, when he takes you shopping for new furniture, and when he’s finally about to leave you at your house. He helps you bring the boxes of unarranged furniture into the apartment and when he’s about to leave, he asks the question that you’ve been dreading hearing,

“Are you okay?” It earns a nod from you. You’re busy, you have to arrange a lot of furniture and then you have to go out to get yourself something to eat. He then asks, “Do you need any more help?”

“If you want to stay and arrange some furniture with me.” You try your best to smile at him, and he rolls up his sleeves. You never really thought Shiu meant when he told you that you could rely on him, but he proves himself as he helps you arrange the furniture. He’s doing most of the work on arranging the furniture while you try to help him.

“It’s a nice apartment… Small but nice.” Shiu says because after spending hours by your side, he’s tired of the silence. You hum in response, and it’s obvious you won’t continue the conversation. He hates the silence. There’s a question that bugs his mind but he knows better than to ask.

When he’s almost done arranging the bed frame, he tells you, “I think we forgot to buy you a mattress.”

“I can’t believe I forgot that.” You chuckle. Your mind is all over the place. You’ll just sleep on top of blankets for the night or something like that. Unless Shiu wants to go shopping with you again. Shiu’s phone rings and he stands up from the floor, excusing himself outside to pick up the phone.

You’re looking around the place, and you think about the possibility of pregnancy. Where would you fit a crib? How would you handle a baby? You have no idea what you’d do, and you’ll try not to think about it for now.

Your stomach growls, and you stand up as well. You pull out your phone to look up places near you to eat, and as you look at all the different places and you decide what you crave, you miss how Shiu is back in the apartment. When he speaks up, you jump a little since you’re startled. You end up clearing your throat before you ask him,

“Are you in the mood to eat anything?” He ends up shaking his head.

“Let’s finish here first.” He responds, and you awkwardly smile at him.

“I want to thank you for helping me out, Shiu. I know that we’ve barely talked, and I know that you’re Toji’s friend too.” You begin, watching as Shiu opens another box.

“I gotta say… I’m surprised this is all happening. Especially since you’re both… You know…” Shiu says as he pulls out all the pieces in the box. You tilt your head to the side and you ask him,

“Since…?”

“You both love each other.” He tells you, and you roll your eyes. It’s all a lie, Toji doesn’t love you. He continues speaking, “But I knew this would happen eventually. Toji has never been a great husband, doubted he’ll be good as a second husband.”

“Yeah… He sucks.” You really can’t say much, knowing that speaking about it will end up in you in tears. Plus you doubt that Shiu wants to talk badly about his dear friend. “Is that why you told me I could rely on you?”

“Partially so.”

“You should’ve told me before I got married.” Or before you got pregnant… At least that’s what’s popping up into your head at this moment. You try to laugh.

“Would you have not gotten married?” He asks, and you end up sighing. You wouldn’t have stopped yourself. You wouldn’t have listened to anyone, especially when Toji assured you he loved you.

When there’s no response he says, “Let’s get something to eat.”

You don’t talk about anything important with Shiu at lunch. You take the opportunity to stop at a pharmacy to shop for what you need. You tell him you need something for your period, and Shiu doesn’t bother to ask questions.

“I’ll wait for you here.” Shiu says, and you nod in response. You rush inside and try not to run as you look for the pregnancy tests. When you finally find them, you run to the register to buy them. The cashier takes forever to do everything, and you’re so close to just throwing cash at him and running to the bathroom to take it.

You’re more and more impatient with each passing second, you can’t wait till you get home to take the test. When he’s bagging it up, you snatch the test out of his hands and run to the bathroom to take it. You can’t take too long, knowing that Shiu is waiting for you. If he asks about anything, you’ll say you had to change your pad or something.

This can’t wait another minute. You still have so much more to do, you have no idea when you’ll get home. Your eyes skeem over the instructions and you wipe down the seat before you do as the instructions say.

Your hands are shaking while you do everything. Your breath hitches and you’re trembling even more. You hear as the bathroom’s door opens and closes, and you’re scared of making a sound while people walk by.

You’re wondering why this is happening. You’re usually very careful, especially with Toji of all people because for some reason he doesn’t get a vasectomy although he doesn’t want more kids. You take a pill every single day to avoid this situation. Maybe under all the stress you forgot to take it once or twice which is a grave mistake considering you’ve ironically been having sex with Toji more than ever. Maybe you should’ve gotten an implant or an IUD, you wouldn’t be scared like this if you had either of those birth controls.

You’ll be fine. You close your eyes for a moment, and you take a deep breath. You’ll be fine. Totally fine. When you open your eyes the test will be negative. You know that when you open your eyes– You inhale before you open your eyes, and you see the results. Your eyes well up with tears as you wrap the test up with toilet paper before you throw it away. You walk out of the bathroom and try to contain your tears as you walk to Shiu’s car.

“Everything okay?” He asks when you get into the passenger seat. You can’t look at him as you hum in response.

“Heavy flow.” Is all you have to say, knowing that he won’t ask questions. He begins to dry, and you assume that he’s going to the closest place that sells mattresses. You agreed at lunch that you’d get a mattress and that’d be all. After that you’d be on your own.

Your head leans on the window, and you’re trying not to think about what you’re going to do next because you’ll end up bursting into tears, and you don’t want to explain anything to Shiu. You clear your throat before you tell him, “I really want to thank you for today, Shiu. I had no idea what I was going to do.”

“I told you that you can count on me, did I not? I’m a man of my word.” He says.

“Nothing like Toji.” You murmur, and he decides that he didn’t hear it. You feel the car come to a stop, and you furrow your brows before asking, “Why–”

You look at the building, and you scoff. You have no idea why you weren’t expecting this. You look at Toji, holding a bouquet of flowers, and you turn your head the other way because you don’t have the heart to look at him right at this moment.

“Can we just go please? I don’t have anything to talk to him about.” You say as Shiu rolls down the car window. Of course he isn’t on your side but he also doesn’t have to do this.

“Hi.” You hear Toji as he walks to the car door.

“Talk to him, at least one last time.” Shiu unlocks the car door. You glare at Toji and then at Shiu. You sigh before you open the car door.

“I doubt this is the last time we’ll talk.”

#toji x y/n #toji zenin #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #daddy toji #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x you #dilf toji #toji fushiguro x you #toji fanfic #toji fic

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blondeboyfriend · 1 year

Text

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Vash the Stampede x reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] I turned this thirst into a fic. [ SYNOPSIS ] Vash starts emitting sexy pheromones that leave you desperate for his cock. [ WORD COUNT ] 2.5k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, porn without plot, dubcon, vaginal sex, rough sex, size kink, mild dumbification, plantfucking, body horror/weird plant biology, oral sex (m receiving), vaginal fingering, nipple play, Vash has a biting kink, self objectification (does that even make sense?), knotting, creampie, cockwarming.

It was just past midnight. The moons were looming high in the sky, illuminating the desolate land surrounding the town you and Vash had taken refuge in. Your face was pressed against the window, gazing out into the sandy void.

“You see the sky tonight?” you asked.

Vash didn’t bother responding. You turned around and saw his dejected form.

“You’re lookin’ more wistful than usual.”

He was sprawled out on the bed, leaving you little to no room. The lodge you were holed up in only had a single room vacant and of course there was but one measly bed. It was a good enough sized one though; it could definitely provide comfort for you and the gangly mess of a man you called a travel companion.

Vash merely sighed in response to your question and stared up at the ceiling.

His gaze was flat, not a hint of sparkle to his blue-green eyes. His sweet face was held hostage by a delightfully adorable pout. Thoughts of biting down on his bottom lip swirled around you, leaving you flustered and throbbing. You hoped whatever was troubling him wasn’t too serious because otherwise your current state would be disrespectful.

“What’s wrong?” you prodded, taking a seat on the bed. You tried to sound as dry as humanly possible.

He turned his head towards you and gave you the weakest, most pathetic smile. A smile that inspired no faith in what it sought to imply.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he answered sweetly.

You glared at him. “Fine. I—Well… I guess I’m going to sleep.” You paused awkwardly. “Goodnight.”

Vash scooted over, granting you space on the mattress. You crawled into place, not bothering to cover yourself with the musty bedding. It smelled too much like sand.

You rolled onto your side, your back facing Vash. You held yourself in a fetal position in hopes it would keep you warm. In a perfect world you’d just snuggle up next to him and leech off the heat his body seemed to radiate. But you didn’t live in a perfect world; you lived in a sandy, inhospitable land.

“Are you cold?” he asked. Such a perceptive one he was.

“A little,” you lied.

“Get under the blankets then,” he suggested.

“No. They smell like sand and… I don’t know, like, armpit sweat.”

He let out a tiny laugh. “I can’t argue with you there.”

You wriggled your shoulders in discomfort. You wanted to curl up next to Vash like a kitten, but with his current mood it just didn’t seem feasible. The last thing you wanted to do was annoy him so you would have to bear the drafty room on your own. It would only be for a night; you could handle it.

However after about five minutes of shivering in painful silence, you turned over and faced Vash. He was on his side, facing you. His eyes were shut, his dark lashes catching the moonlight streaming through the windows.

You gently nudged him. “Hey.”

He briefly frowned, but stayed asleep.

You nudged him once more, this time much harder.

“Vash!”

His eyes shot open and he jerked back.

“Ouch! Why are you being so aggressive?”

“I have a question,” you said, giving him puppy dog eyes.

“Ask away.”

“Can we spoon, or snuggle, or something?”

“Uh—”

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I know you… are like… You’ve got something on your mind and I don’t wanna—”

The radiant grin he gave you calmed your nerves. He pulled you into his embrace, wrapping his arms around you. Your face was buried into his neck. He smelled like freshly washed linens, undercut by a strange earthy, honey-like scent, a creamy florescent. The chills that cursed your body melted away in his presence.

“Thank you,” you muttered, voice muffled by Vash’s sweet skin.

You inhaled deeply and pressed your body up against his. He felt tense, like his muscles were frozen in place.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you asked.

“It’s stupid,” he whined.

“I don’t care.”

He paused and took a few slow breaths, preparing himself for the question he was about to pose.

“I really like you and—”

“You wanna fuck me, huh?” you asked, your face adorned with a cat-like grin. You had never been so forward before, but something seemed to possess you.

“Of course I do.” He groaned. “But I can’t because… it’s complicated. And intense.”

“Is that supposed to be a deterrent?”

He rolled onto his back and hid his face behind his hands.

“It’s just different, alright?”

You crawled on top of him, unable to help yourself. His aura was whipping you into a frenzy, the lovely scent emanating from his skin growing stronger and luring you in.

“I like different,” you purred.

He gulped. “I should tell you—”

You didn’t let him speak.“I don’t care what happens.”

Vash blushed. “Let me finish.”

You groaned but relented. “Fine. But be quick.”

“I haven’t, uh, you know… in a while. And when that happens my body produces these pheromones that are supposed to attract a mate.”

“A mate?” you asked, voice wavering. You liked Vash and wanted to fuck him, but mate implied somewhat of a large commitment.

“No! Not a mate! It, well, it makes people want to—”

“Fuck you?” you asked, biting down on your upper lip.

He nodded. “And they kinda… drive me crazy too.” He tacked on a nervous laugh. “Sometimes I can’t control myself which isn’t fair because, well, whoever is… uh… they do whatever I want them to.”

Your cunt was growing wetter by the second.

“So that’s why I want you to use me so bad.”

His eyes were wide, almost sparkling. His cheeks were rosy and the scent emanating from him grew stronger.

You felt as if the room was enveloped in a sensuous haze that seeped into your skin, flowing through your veins. It was consuming you, eating away at your thoughts, leaving behind visions of Vash tossing your legs over your shoulders and driving his cock into your weeping cunt. Your body was growing warmer, almost unbearably so. Every inch of you ached for him. You would know no peace until his body was lording over yours and filling you up with his cum.

“I just.” He averted your lingering gaze. “It’s embarrassing. I hate getting like that. When I do all I can think about is pinning someone down and fucking them until they can’t see straight.”

“That sounds amazing,” you said dreamily.

Your manner of speaking was much more provocative than it usually was. Your tongue seemed to linger on the letters, leaving each one coated in a honey-like tone. There was almost a hint of a tumultuous moan when you said “aammmaaaaaziiingg.”

Vash looked uncomfortable, but willing. His hands were gripping the sheets as if he was holding on for dear life.

“I know you want me,” you teased, rocking your hips against his. “I’m not lying when I say you can do whatever you want to me. You need it. I know you do.” You cupped his face in your gentle hands. “Let me help you. It’s what I’m here for.”

He laughed. “It’s not, but…”

“Hush,” you said, grabbing a hold of his cock.

It was swollen, begging for release.

You lowered yourself down and pulled down the soft, worn cotton pants he liked to sleep in. His cock sprung up, standing completely upright. The tip was engorged and pink. You rubbed it with the pad of your thumb and watched as Vash winced. His brows knitted together in ecstatic agony.

A few thick veins snaked around his shaft. You ghosted your fingers over them and reveled in his desperate whines. You looked up at him with starved eyes, darkened by your devotion and desire. You ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft. You grabbed ahold of his cock and stroked it while you rolled your tongue against the tip, savoring the sweet taste of his precum.

He let out a low groan as you pumped his leaky cock. He placed his hand on the back of your head and gently pushed down. You dropped your hand and decided to let your mouth do the work.

Vash eased your head further down, until the entirety of his length filled your mouth. Spit was trickling from the corners of your mouth and tears crept out from the corners of your eyes. He began to thrust, sending the tip of his cock into the back of your throat. You were steadfast and breathed through your nose, fighting your gag reflex.

“Your mouth fe—feels so good,” he stammered.

You placed your hands on his muscled thighs to push yourself off of his cock, but you felt what appeared to be downy feathers sprouting from his skin. It threw you off for a moment before you remembered what you wanted to say.

“Wait until you feel my pussy,” you bragged.

His eyes almost seemed to glow. He gave you a boyish smile before pushing you onto your back with a swiftness that left you in awe. His hands wandered down your body, pawing at your clothes, desperately trying to take them off. Your body felt electric as he undressed you. Each time his warm, slender fingers grazed your skin your body pulsed with delight.

He kissed your neck before letting his sharp canines graze your tender skin. You hummed in delight, and laced your fingers through his silky hair. He rutted up against your body, the tip of his cock teasing your clit. You whimpered every time it made contact.

He left a trail of kisses down your neck and chest, stopping at your breast. He flicked his tongue against your nipple. He sucked on it, holding it between his soft lips. You relished in the sound of him lapping away. You held onto his shoulders, feeling spiny quills erupting from his scapulae.

“Vash,” you whimpered. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond. The quills from his back grew longer and denser. You pricked your finger on one of the sharp tips. You winced in pain and moved your hand down to the small of his back. You watched as the spiny quills became more feather-like. They were pale and iridescent and they left you transfixed. They were so beautiful. They soon covered his back and made their way down his arms. You ran your hand down the length of them. They were soft and sleek, like nothing you had ever experienced before.

“So pretty,” you muttered.

Vash lifted his head from your breast.

“Hm?”

A cluster of eyes has formed in the middle of his forehead. It disturbed you briefly, but the feeling of his cock throbbing against your thigh was enough to make you forget about it.

“Nothing, nothing,” you said, stroking his cheek.

You kissed him, pushing your tongue past his teeth. He held you close and you felt like your body was melting into his. You wanted to become a part of him. He slid his fingers into your cunt, spreading apart your folds. You groaned in frustration. His fingers weren’t enough. You needed his cock.

“Please just fuck me,” you whined, breaking the kiss.

He looked up at you with all of his dazed eyes and wordlessly nodded. He slowly guided his cock inside you. You gasped as your cunt stretched around it. You buried your face into his neck, hoping to mute your cries of pleasure. His thrusts were gentle and deliberate. You could feel that he was holding back.

“Is it too much?” he asked, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You shook your head. “More.”

He gave you a concerned look. “More?”

“Yeah. Fuck me like I’m a whore.”

Vash nearly choked on his own spit.

“C’mon,” you purred. “You know you want to.”

“I can’t. It’ll be too much.”

“My body can take it.”

He frowned. “I could really hurt you.”

“I like it when it hurts,” you said, tightening your cunt around his cock. You kissed him again and held his bottom lip between your teeth. “I’m your toy. You can do whatever you want to me.”

Vash looked at you, holding your gaze, clearly weighing his options. Once he made up his mind an impish grin made its way across his face and he lifted your legs over his shoulders.

His thrusts were significantly more intense than they were previously. He drove his cock into your cunt with a fervor you had never experienced. His cocktip pushed up against your cervix, sending a sharp sensation to your core. You became a panting, moaning mess. You were falling apart at the seams, your body as limp as a doll’s. Vash was able to manipulate your body with ease, essentially folding you in half, leaving your knees close to your face.

You looked up at him as his wings spread out, nearly engulfing you. It was hard to believe this was the same Vash you wandered the desert with. You never would have thought the doughnut eating dork could be so feral. You knew he wasn’t a human, but his true nature being so alien never occurred to you.

As he fucked your limp body into the mattress, you felt your orgasm begin to bloom in your stomach. Your breathing became labored and all you could think about was coming all over his cock.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he growled.

“Uh-huh,” you moaned.

He picked up the pace, his thrusts growing more and more frantic. The room was filled with a symphony of his grunts and whimpers. You were lost in his presence, completely enamored and consumed by it. Your vision blurred and you saw nothing but white as you came. A deluge of fluids dripped from your cunt and coated his cock. You felt like you had ascended to heaven, leaving No Man’s Land in the dust.

Vash continued to thrust as his cock swelled inside you. Spurts of his slippery cum filled your cunt. He exhaled deeply and allowed your legs to fall to the side and laid down on top of you. The two of you tried to catch your breath and let the rapture you were entangled in fade away.

“I’m sorry,” he said bashfully, lifting himself up.

His cock was still buried inside you.

“Why…” You struggled to find your words. “Why are you… sorry?”

“Because! I didn’t want you to ever see me like this. I look like a freak.”

You ran your hand along his wings and made an effort to make eye contact with the cluster of ones on his forehead.

“I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“You’re just saying that because you're high off my pheromones,” he scoffed.

You giggled. “Maybe. But you’re still very pretty.”

You rubbed the short feathers that had sprouted along the apples of his cheeks. He sighed in relief and nuzzled his face into your neck. His cock continued to throb inside you and likely would for a while. You didn’t mind though. Laying under Vash, shielded by his wings from the harsh world outside, was all you could want in such a harsh and unforgiving world.

#vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #trigun smut #vash the stampede smut #trigun x reader #.fics #.trigun #.vash #reader insert #x reader

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