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#it's good he tries though that's the important part
roseghoul26 · 3 days
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Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader
Synopsis: After being captured by The Ghoul, he had dragged you through the hot desert of the Wasteland. You were so thirsty, and you’d do anything for a drink of water. And you meant anything. Tags: Smut, Practically No Plot, Humiliation, Begging, Spit, Blowjobs, Throat Fucking, Thigh Riding, Biting, Hate Sex(?), maybe OOC The Ghoul but I think I got it right, Not Beta Read, there's still consent because i can’t write severe noncon Author's Note: i had so many “why am i writing this” moments yet i still finished it i’m so sorry. 
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You don’t think you’ve ever been this thirsty in your life. 
Scratch that, you don’t think anyone’s ever been as thirsty as you currently are. 
Even though you had no saliva left to swallow, you tried anyway, your throat feeling like sandpaper. It caused you to cough, earning a disgruntled noise from the ghoul currently holding you hostage. 
The Ghoul. Infamous bounty hunter and the cruelest person you’d ever met. Of course, you only found out who he was after he captured you. You’d never even heard of a ghoul until a few days ago, your sheltered life in Vault 14 withholding information about the surface to you. 
You wished you were back home, suffocating as it was. At home, you wouldn’t be forced to walk countless miles under the boiling Wasteland sun. At home, you wouldn’t have a lasso around your neck, preventing you from running off. And even if you did manage to somehow escape the rope confines, you’d seen how accurate of a shot he was. He’d kill you before you managed to keep a foot away from him. 
You glanced back at him, The Ghoul, who had his sawed-off shotgun casually trained on you. He seemed unaffected by the heat, by the sun beating down on your faces. His hat made sure of that, and you supposed that you didn’t have to worry about sunburn if all your exposed skin was melted by radiation.
It had been hard, looking at him at first. After spending your entire life surrounded by “normal” humans, it was a shock seeing him for the first time. You’d seen burn scars before, sure, but never this severe, every inch of him covered in them. Of course, that wasn’t the most off-putting part. That had to be the complete lack of nose, an empty socket where the cartilaginous appendage should be. 
It unsettled you deeply, but you found that you couldn’t stop looking at him, a sick part of your brain enjoying it. You didn’t dare delve into that part of your mind right now, though, your current circumstance is significantly more important. 
He had stopped you in Filly, and after a brief discussion had decided that he was taking you with wherever he was going. You had no say in the decision, and even when you fought and kicked and screamed he still managed to get you bound. A few people tried to help, not because they cared about you, but because they had also wanted to get their hands on a “Vaultie”. Apparently, you were worth something to them up here, a commodity of sorts. It made your skin crawl. You’d gotten firsthand experience, then, of how good of a shot The Ghoul was. 
How you longed to be back in the stuffy Vault, working as a teacher to those kids. As annoying as they were, at least they weren’t currently threatening your life, or making you walk to who the hell knows. You’d take that over this any day. Hell, you’d take latrine duty with overflowing toilets every single hour over this. 
You fixed your attention back in front of you, the endless stretch of sandy dunes in front of you broken up by partially destroyed houses and skeletons of buildings. Your feet were in incredible amounts of pain, every step feeling like you had fifty pounds of bricks attached to your ankles. And that thirst, never ending, overwhelming thirst you felt nagged at you, consuming every thought of yours. You’d take anything to drink now, even that definitely radiated puddle you’d passed hours ago. Or was it minutes? You couldn’t tell.
You knew dehydration had long since started affecting you. You were no longer able to form sweat, and you were certain that your body was slowly cooking from the inside. You were almost certain it would be a better fate than whatever The Ghoul was leading you towards. 
You hadn’t even realized he’d stopped until you felt a sharp tug at your throat, nearly toppling you on your ass. You heard him chuckle as you steadied yourself, and you shot him a glare. Even faced with death, you weren’t going to let yourself be treated like this. “We’re stopin’ here,” he gestured to a dilapidated building to his right.
You had been surprised when he spoke the first time, not expecting a southern drawl. You’d never heard an accent like his before, only ever hearing them on the Holotapes your Vault would play for movie night. You’d also believed them to be fake, or to have died out with the rest of humanity. You had to admit, the one good thing to come out of this whole experience was hearing his voice. 
Momentarily confused as to why you were stopping, your eyes focused, and you realized that the sun was half set. You’d learned rather quickly that it was suicidal and stupid to travel across the Wasteland at night, after an almost perilous encountered with what you assumed to once be a bear. You’d barely escaped with your life, climbing a tree until the creature grew disinterested and found new prey. 
You almost wished it had torn you apart then. 
Apparently you were taking too long, and you felt another tug at the rope, pulling you closer to him. “Ain’t got all day, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. The name was anything but sweet, saying it with so much condescension that it made you flush angrily. At least, that’s what you told yourself. 
Grumbling something under your breath, you stormed past him, another low chuckle leaving him. “Nothin’ good is gonna come from that mouth on ya,” he threatened, waving the gun at you in a go on motion. 
The shifting sand nearly caused you to stumble as you ducked into the house through a window, and your eyes struggled to adjust to the low lighting. Holding your breath, you listened for anything else in the house besides the two of you, and when you were met with only your heartbeat, you continued further in. 
Entering what used to be the living room, you saw a large couch, still in relatively decent condition, and luckily free of decomposed bodies. Any wood furniture, however, had already decayed, leaving only fragments where they once stood. You realized that if you were to sit on the couch, it would probably crumble under the weight.
The Ghoul entered behind you, and you made your way down the hallway, checking each room for anyone or anything that could do you harm. The first room was a bathroom, sand filling the bathtub like it was water. Out of desperation you almost tried to turn the handles on the sink, lift the seat of the toilet, do anything for a drop of water. But you refrained, not willing to stoop to that level yet. But you could feel that you were close. 
The next room was a large master bedroom, completely destroyed from when the bombs fell. Sand covered everything, and the walls had practically caved in, leaving you exposed to the outside. There was no where you would stay there willingly tonight. 
The third and final room was also completely devoid of life, but the empty crib in the middle of the room had you gasping, and you heard the click of a gun behind you as The Ghoul prepared for anything. You quickly shut the door. “Nothing, sorry,” you managed to croak out, and you heard him scoff.
However, you saw that he did manage to catch a glimpse of the room before you closed the door, and in those still human eyes you saw something flash through them. Sadness? Longing? Anger? You couldn’t tell, but you sure as hell weren’t about to ask him about it. 
Living room it is, then. Heading back to the original room, you watch The Ghoul sit on the couch, right in the center of it. It held, surprisingly, but you could hear the wood groan in warning. Spreading his legs, you watched him tilt his head back, a content sigh leaving his mouth. 
If you had the energy to blush, you would’ve as you watched him, finding yourself having to look away. Maybe dehydration was messing with your brain, the way you thought that was attractive. What the hell was wrong with you, you thought. 
Thirst quickly chased those thoughts away, and you attempted to lick your dry lips, your tongue mostly sticking to them instead. You were about to go explore the bathroom until you remembered the rope around your neck. 
Like he could read your thoughts, you watched him regard the lasso in his gloved hand. “You gonna run off on me if I take this off, sweetheart?” 
You shook your head, excited to have the irritating rope no longer chafing your neck. “You’ll kill me before I could,” you responded, voice barely a whisper.
The Ghoul barked out a laugh. “Damn right I will.” He considered your response for a moment, and you fully believed that he was going to keep it there. That was until he stood, almost inhumanly fast, approaching you with long strides.
Holding your breath, you felt his tug the rope off your neck, those eerily human eyes never leaving yours as he did. You flinched when you felt one of his leather-clad fingers brush over the irritated skin. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, mostly because of fear, but also for another reason that you refused to name. 
With a satisfactory smirk, he looped the lasso back onto his belt. You quickly exhaled when he stepped away, eliciting a coughing fit, which was dry and only irritated your throat more. Fuck, you were so thirsty. 
The Ghoul sat back on the couch in that same lounging position, and you debated sitting on the floor in front of him, but you feared that if you rested now then you’d never get back up. You watched him set a lantern on the ground, the weak oil based contraption the only source of light in the entire room. You didn’t ask why he didn’t start a fire; you also learned to not do that early on too. 
So you remained standing, even though your feet screamed for relief. You ignored them, shifting to try and alleviate the pain slightly. Rubbing your neck, you could feel that he hadn't once taken his eyes off of you, and it was making you increasingly unnerved. “You gonna stand there all night?”
You crossed your arms. “Yes.” You tried to sound defiant, but it came out more like an airy noise.
“Suit yourself, then.” He rolled his eyes, making a show of getting comfortable on the couch. “It’ll be a long night for you, that’s for sure.”
Swaying, you leaned your back against one of the barely-standing walls, screwing your eyes shut. You occupied your thoughts with memories of home, trying desperately to ignore the pain. You were mostly successful, that was until you heard the sound of a canister being opened. 
Curious, you opened your eyes back up, nearly falling to your knees when you saw him drinking from a circular canteen. You must’ve made some noise, because he was now smirking at you. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and you watched a droplet of precious water trail down his scarred chin, dripping onto his dusty clothes. 
“See somethin’ you want, sweetheart?” He was unabashedly cocky with his tone. 
You son of a bitch, you thought, glaring daggers into him.
“Now, now, no need to be like that,” he chuckled, taking another sip. “Just tell me what ya want.”
He wanted you to ask for it. He wanted you to be at his mercy. Groaning, you rest your head back against the wall. You don’t think you’ve ever hated anyone as much as you hated The Ghoul. Any humanity left in him had been stripped away, leaving behind a cruel excuse of a human. Despite that, you couldn’t deny the way your heart continued to patter in your chest as he stared at you expectantly, that cocky attitude doing things to you that would leave anyone who knew you horrified.
“I…” you tried to talk, but your voice proved to be too scratchy. Clearing your throat as best you could, you tried again, ignoring the way he looked at you like a predator would his prey. It was similar to the bear from earlier, but you’d take that now over the ghoul in front of you. “I need water.”
He tsked, crossing a leg over his lap. “And here I thought you Vaulties were raised with manners.”
It took everything in you to not just snap at him, but that would leave you without any water. “I need water, please,” you gritted out. 
The Ghoul shook his head disapprovingly. “Shame,” you heard him mutter, before he was slowly pouring the water out onto the floor behind him.
Sheer panic tore through you, and if you were able to form tears, they would be in your eyes. “Wait, wait, wait,” you pleaded, your voice cracking and breaking, and you lunged forward. The click of a gun had your blood going cold, but he at least had the decency to stop pouring. You held your hands up, taking a few steps back.
Registering that you weren’t going to attack him, he lowered the gun, but he still kept it on his lap. If he had any eyebrows left, you’re sure one of them would be raised, waiting for you to continue. 
“I’m- I’m sorry,” you stammered out, keeping your hands in the air. “I just… Can I please have some water? Please, I-I… I need it. I’m begging you… please.” You wondered if he could even make out your words. 
You watched his eyes travel up and down your body, and he cocked his head. “Are you?” You made a confused noise, and he chuckled lowly. “Are you beggin’ me?”
One problem that you always had at the Vault is that you never knew when to shut your mouth, and what you said next certainly made it clear that you hadn’t learned yet. “You want me to get on my knees, then?” You had meant it sarcastically, and you immediately regretted it when his eyes went dark. 
You heard the creak of the couch as he planted both feet on the ground, leaning forward until his elbows rested on his knees. His guns barely stayed in his lap, but he didn’t seem to care. “Now that you mention it… yeah.”
Humiliation warmed your cheeks, and you nearly let your pride stop you from sinking to the floor, but then you saw the way the canteen hung precariously in his hand. Damn it all. Taking a deep breath, you lowered yourself slowly, unable to look at the man, not wanting to see his victorious reaction. The sand shifted beneath your knees as you rested on them, but you could barely feel the relief your feet finally felt.
“Can-”
“Closer,” he cut you off gruffly. “And I want those eyes on me.” His voice had turned husky, and you realized he was enjoying this. Were… were you enjoying this too? You honestly couldn’t tell.
Wordlessly, you obeyed, shuffling forward until your knees bumped into his shoes. Your ears burned worse than they did out in the sun, and you wished it would just explode and incinerate you right now. “Eyes up, sweetheart,” he practically purred. 
You took a moment to prepare yourself before you were looking at him through hooded eyes. The brim of his hat cast a shade over his face, and you could only see the hungry glint in his eyes matched with a predatory smirk. Oh, he was loving this, and you couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze, heat pooling in your belly that was quickly doused by shame. 
“Can I please have some water? Please? I- I’m really thirsty and… just a bit. Please.” 
His grin grew more as you begged, and you sagged with relief when he brought the canteen closer, no longer dangling over the back of the couch. “See, that ain’t so hard now, was it?”
“I’m sorry,” you found yourself apologizing, for what, you weren’t quite sure. You weren’t too upset about it, though, especially when he brought the canteen to your lips. 
“Head back,” he ordered, and you did, your neck straining at the angle. You swore you heard him groan when you parted your lips, never breaking eye contact with him. The water was disgusting and acidic, but damn if it wasn’t the best thing you’d ever had the pleasure of drinking. He poured it into your mouth, and you desperately swallowed every single drop, the dryness in your mouth and throat instantly being quenched. 
But it wasn’t enough, and you couldn’t help the disappointed noise you let out when he ceased the pouring. “More, please,” you found yourself whining, any remnants of shame tossed out the broken window you’d climbed into.
“Manners, Vaultie,” he growled.
“Thank you, thank you,” you repeated like a mantra, and The Ghoul let out a pleased hum. Thirstiness still clung to you like a second skin, but you felt better than you had moments ago. Some of your energy had returned, and you felt like you were no longer in the grasp of death. 
“You want more?” He asked, and you immediately nodded.
“Please,” you whispered, and you saw something almost wicked pass over his features. 
“Don’t worry,” you felt one of his gloved hands sneak around your back, collecting a handful of hair and tugging, forcing your head back even further. You cried out, a mix of shock and pain. “You’ll get more. Just keep that pretty mouth wide open, just like that.” His normal drawl had turned into an almost rasp, and you shuddered. 
You watched as he took a swig for himself, but he didn’t swallow, keeping the water in his mouth. Confused, you closed your mouth, but as soon as you did you felt him pull hard at your hair. Obediently, you opened it back up, a shaky exhale leaving you.
If he had a nose, it would be currently pressed up against yours. He adjusted so that he was practically towering above you, and man did the angle kill your neck, but you didn’t dare complain. With increasingly widening eyes, you watched as he slotted his mouth above yours, not touching, but you could still feel the heat from his body. 
You nearly flinched when you felt the water hit your mouth, fighting every instinct that told you to shut it. The act was filthy and degrading, but you’d be a liar if you said it wasn’t getting you incredibly aroused. Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming suffocating; it hadn’t even felt this bad when you were outside. 
As he sat back on to the couch, his lips glistened in the dim light, stray remnants of water still coating them. As you held the water in your mouth, he frowned disapprovingly. “Do I gotta spell it out for ya?” He shifted forward again, grasping your face. “Swallow.” 
When you did, he let go, tapping your cheek lightly. “Atta girl,” he cooed, and you sputtered, cheeks growing warm. Shifting where you sat, you tried and failed to relieve some of the tension in you. You thought you were subtle in your movements, but his sharpshooter gaze locked onto it immediately. 
He laughed, a mix of surprise and condescension in one. “This gettin’ you turned on? Maybe you ain’t all that innocent, Vaultie.”
You eyed the half-hard tent in front of you. “I’m not the only one,” you grumbled out, and he laughed again. 
“I ain’t the one on my knees, sweetheart.”  Scoffing, you watched him lean back again. You expected him to say something, do something, but he simply watched you with anticipatorily. Something shifted in the atmosphere, and you realized he was putting the situation in your hands, wordlessly asking you how far you were willing to take this. 
You needed this. You needed him, as bewildering as it was for you to admit to yourself. 
Desire running deeper than that for water coursed through your veins, and you nodded. “More.” You both knew that you weren’t fully talking about the canteen in his hand. 
“Good answer.” Before you could even register, he was gripping your face again. Fingers pressed into your cheeks harshly, opening your mouth back up. Taking another swig, you expected him to repeat what he’d done last time, but you were startled when you felt his lips on yours. 
It was a strange kiss, his closed mouth against your open one, but it didn’t stay like that for long. His lips pulled apart, and without needing further prompting you swallowed another precious mouthful of water. You could feel that bastardly smirk against your mouth, and if you were anywhere near being able to create a coherent thought you would’ve said something. 
But you didn’t, you couldn’t. It was like you were caught up in some haze, but you were sent out of it when you felt his tongue sweep into your mouth. You’d kissed a few people, sure, but never like this. It elicited a startled noise from you that had him pulling back an inch, and you had to fight yourself to not chase after his lips.
“Never had that before?” He chuckled, and he found your following silence an adequate enough answer. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”
He didn’t even give you a moment to react before he was crashing his mouth back against yours. It was all tongue and teeth and it had you moaning, and you felt the grip on your face tighten. Your head spun, and you tried to keep up with his movements, but you ended up just letting him take over, moving his mouth against your however he’d like. 
He nipped at your lower lip with his teeth, and your hands shot out, no longer able to just keep them idly in your lap. You found purchase on his thighs, the sinewy muscles tensing under your touch. But the grip on your face tightened more, almost incredibly painful. Your eyes shot open, alarmed, and a pained noise left you. 
He had pulled away again, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths, but he was glaring down at you. “You better watch those hands.” Even though his voice was husky, the threat didn’t make you any less terrified. 
You were confused, and you watched his eyes trail down to his lap where your hands were. Unable to move your head, you had to strain your own eyes to look down, and sheer dread washed over you when you saw his gun still in his lap, your hands a mere inch away from it. 
“I- I wasn’t… I didn’t… ” you gasped breathlessly. “I didn’t know! I- I’m sorry! Please.” Out of all the times you’d begged and pleaded tonight, this time had to be the most genuine. Immediately retracting your hands back to your lap, you awaited his response tensely. What you failed to notice was the way his eyes darkened as you groveled, his pants growing tighter.
His gaze returned to your face, and out of the corner of your eye you watched as he moved the gun from his lap into his hand. You half expected him to point it at you next, but you let out a very audible sigh of relief when he set it on the couch beside him. It was completely out of your reach now, but he could still easily grab it. 
He loosened the grip on your jaw, still holding it, but no longer digging into your flesh painfully. “I won’t stop you next time,” he growled, and it took you a second to register what he was saying: he won’t stop you next time because you’d be dead as soon as you began to reach for it. 
You nodded as best you could. “Good,” he’d lost the threatening tone, but his voice was still gravely and raspy. “Now, where was I?” His eyes flicked down to your lips, and you sure they were swollen and shiny. “That’s right.”
Like nothing had happened, he returned to his ministrations, teeth grazing your bottom lip again. You hesitated when you set your hands back on his thighs, gaining more confidence when he didn’t stop you. In fact, he was actively encouraging your explorative touches, a pleased noise rumbling his chest as your fingers trailed up his thighs. 
Another swipe of his tongue and a particularly harsh bite had you gripping onto him, barely able to find purchase on the thick material of his pants. You desperately needed air, but he held his grip on your jaw, seemingly unaffected by the issue you were having. Did ghouls need to breathe? It seemed like they didn’t, because he had yet to tear his mouth away for air once as he first kissed you. 
As your hands reached his belt, it was then he finally tore away, a groan leaving him. Sucking in as much air as your lungs could handle, you ran your touch across the prominent bulge. You felt the hand on your jaw go lax, falling to his lap. “You gonna take care of that?” He was giving you another out, giving you an opportunity to stop you from doing something you could regret. 
Rationally, you knew you should stop here, and pretend like this didn’t just happen. You knew the version of you from the Vault would do that. But this new part of you, exposed to the Wasteland and the savagery of the surface world found that you wanted to continue. Besides, you were probably going to end up getting killed in the next few days; why not have some new experiences before your time was up.
You didn’t respond, you simply began to undo the buckle of his belt. You couldn’t get the thing off of him, so it just rested open on his thighs. “Oh, you’re filthy,” he chuckled, spreading his legs even further apart while leaning back against the couch. “Go on, sweetheart. Let’s see what that mouth’s good for.”
This also wasn’t your first time in a situation like this. You’d only ever done it once, but you apparently weren't too terrible at it, as he frequently requested for a second time, but you always turned him down. You kinda wish you hadn’t now, wishing you had more experience now, but a part of you knew that this was about to be incredibly different from anything you would’ve experienced in the Vault.
With hands that you prayed weren’t incredibly shaky, you pulled down the zipper of his pants. He kept his eyes locked onto you the entire time, darkening even more as the unzipping noise hit his ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him, no matter how hard you wanted to. Something about his expression had you locked in, and you shifted again. 
“Don’t let me stop ya,” he rested his arms along the backside of the couch, and you realized you’d just been sitting there. Steadying yourself, you slipped your hand into the confines of his pants, underneath the waistband of his briefs. You heard him let out a small hiss when your fingers brushed over his cock, and you desperately wanted to hear him make more noises like that.
It took a bit of maneuvering before he was free, head brushing against his navel. The skin was pocked like the rest of his body, which you were expecting. What you weren’t expecting was how long he was, much longer than your previous encounter.
Before you could let nerves disarm you, you moved closer to him. Bracing your hands back on his thighs, you kissed his tip, and you heard his hiss again. Sneaking your tongue out, you ran it up his length, pressing another kiss when you reached the top. “Don’t tease,” he growled, tangling his gloved fingers back into your hair. 
When you took him into your mouth, he let out a noise that sounded like a laugh and a sigh, the grip on your hair growing painful. It didn’t deter you, rather it drove you wild, and you took as much of him as you could. When he hit the back of your throat, you had to stifle the urge to gag. Taking the rest of him in one of your hands, you began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks. 
You couldn’t see the way his eyes locked onto his cock leaving and entering your mouth, but you could hear the small grunts he made in tandem with the movement of your head. He kept his hips surprisingly still, but his fingers were somehow getting even tighter, as if all of his restraint was being poured into his grip, and it was on the verge of snapping. “You can take more.” It wasn’t a question, and you felt his press down on the back of your head when you had him fully in you.
Startled, you tried to make a noise, but the vibrations just went straight to his cock. He groaned, louder this time, and he didn't let up. “Relax,” he bit out, and you tried. You really did. Taking as deep a breath you could, you forced your muscles to relax, your hands going back to his thighs. Tears sprung to your eyes as you really tried not to gag, but a garbled sound still left you as he pushed himself further down your throat. 
“Fuck,” he drawled out, “just like that.” It felt like five years had passed before your nose was finally pressed into his skin, his cock fully sheathed down your throat. Tears dripped onto his skin, but he didn’t seem to feel them. Your scalp stung as he lifted your head up, and you took in a shuddering breath, your lungs screaming for air.
You didn’t have a long reprieve before he was shoving you back down again, and even though the intrusion wasn’t new it still caused you to make an awful noise. It took him pulling you off again for you to realize what he was doing; he was fucking your mouth, using it for his own pleasure like you were just a toy. The realization had you moaning, the discomforts becoming an afterthought as he chased his pleasure, your own growing. 
Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming unbearable arousal tightening in your core, and you snuck a hand down between your legs, trying to touch yourself through the thick material. It didn’t help, but you still tried anyway, desperate for any sort of relief. The Ghoul laughed, not letting up the way he moved your head. “Oh, sugar, is suckin’ my cock gettin’ you bothered?”
Your head spun, the new nickname and the crude words making you dizzy, and you let out what you hoped was a confirmatory sound. He only huffed in response, and you could tell that he was starting to get close to his release. His hips had started to buck, albeit slightly, and his groans had turned to unintelligible moans. 
He cursed again, and you were barely able to glimpse his head roll back, hat hitting the ground. He didn’t care, continuing to fuck your face, and you desperately ground against your hand. “So good, fuck,” he panted, and you let your eyes flutter shut.
They shot open when you heard him moan your name, but you had little time to appreciate the way he said it. He pressed down hard on the back of your head, holding you there, your nose pressed flat against his body. A plethora of curses fell from his lips as he came, his cum spurting deep down your throat. 
He let go, hands falling to his sides, and you removed yourself, coughing and gasping for air. Your cheeks were wet with tears, your jaw aching, but it was the best pain you’d ever felt. He stared at you with lustful eyes, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. 
Holy shit. You were tired, but you wanted more. But you weren’t expecting him to do anything else tonight. This wasn’t a partnership; he’d gotten his release. You’d need to deal with it on your own. 
So caught up in what you were expecting, you gasped when you felt his lips graze the corner of your mouth. His hand cradled your cheek, leather growing damp, and you felt his lips brush the tears that had fallen on the other cheek. You realized he was licking your tears away, and when he registered that you noticed he chuckled, muttering something about not wanting to waste water. You let out an airy chuckle in return, still not fully wrapping your head about what had and what is transpiring. 
“Guess one good thing came from that mouth,” he teased, referencing his earlier threat. He tugged you up, and you stood with knees shaking like a fawn. You’re certain you looked like a mess but he either didn’t care or really enjoyed it. 
You really had no idea what was going to happen next. You observed him with wide eyes, and you couldn’t help the bewildered look when you saw him stroking himself, still rock hard like he hadn’t just come. He chuckled when he saw what had caused you to react. “One good thing ‘bout bein’ a ghoul,” he rasped. “Stamina.”
His own raked down your body, honing in on the way your thighs pressed together, and they flicked back up to your own. “Take it off.”
You didn’t have to be told twice, the zipper on your suit quickly becoming undone. Even though the air was hot, it still felt nice against your hot skin. He didn’t blink as you undressed, eyes clocking in every new inch of exposed skin. Tugging it down your shoulders and off your arms, you let it fall to the ground, the material pooling at your ankles. 
Left in only your bra and underwear, you kicked the Vault-Tec suit off your feet, and you stood there, unsure. “All of it,” he continued, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
As you reached for the clasp of your bra, you watched him lean forward slightly, eyes watching you like you were the most delicious meal he was about to devour. Tossing the garment beside you, you reached for the waistband of your underwear. He raised a hand, making your halt, your fingers barely looped under the band.
With two fingers, he gestured you forward, grinning when you complied easily. His hands batted away your own, and you felt he begin to peel it away himself. He was almost eye level with your navel, and you felt his breath caress your stomach. It was like he was unwrapping a present, the way he ripped it down your legs, and it fell around your ankles like the suit. 
You were hardly able to kick it away before he pulled you onto his lap, your hands bracing against his still clothed chest. The couch made a very audible noise, on the virgo of collapsing, but neither of you seemed to hear it. One of your legs straddled his thigh, your bare center pressed against his pants, no doubt soaking the material.
 “You’re wearing too much,” you found yourself commenting, and you felt him chuckle. He took his hands off your waist, holding them in front of you so you could clearly see him take off his gloves, tossing them by his gun. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, realizing that that was all you were getting from him. 
You weren’t complaining, though, when his bare hands touched you for the first time. Along with the marred skin, his fingers were calloused, years and years of harsh life, fighting, and shooting making them so, but they were the best things you’d ever felt touch your soft skin.
He seemed to be having similar thoughts, humming appreciated as he felt your body, fingers dancing up your sides. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, and you sighed as he continued his exploration upwards. Worn hands cupped your breasts, fingers toying with your perked nipples, and you unconsciously pressed your chest forward. “Look at ya,” it felt like he was mostly talking to himself, “you ain’t gotta mark on your body.” You felt his mouth graze your breasts, lips ticking you as he spoke. 
You jumped when his teeth made contact with the delicate skin of the top of your breasts, and he chuckled. Moving lower, he took one of your nipples between his lips, his hand making sure the other one was receiving the same attention. His tongue flicked, sucked, and the occasional nip had you crying out, jolts of pleasure shooting through your body. One of your hands settled on the back of his head, the other sneaking back between your legs.
With that surprising speed, he caught your wrist, not even tearing his mouth away from you. You let out a noise of complaint, and you could feel him grin. His hands left your breasts, settling back on your waist, and you felt him begin to rock you back and forth on his thigh. With every rock, your clit ground against the tensed muscle, and you let out small moans, small waves of pleasure crashed through your body.
When he felt you begin to move on your own, he let go, returning his touch to your breasts, playing and massaging them as you got off on his thigh. His mouth trailed up your body, leaving a trail of small kisses and ginger bites, your once smooth skin now slightly indented. Having been worked up for a while, you felt that you were growing close to release, his ministrations bringing you closer. 
He was at your neck now, and he bit particularly hard at the thick tendon there. He laughed when he felt your hips begin to rock harder, and you felt his tongue smooth over the bitten skin. “I-” you tried to speak, but an airy whine from your throat cut you off. Your thighs were trembling, and you could feel the damp patch that had formed on his pants, but you couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed right now. 
“You close, sugar?” Not trusting your voice, you nodded instead. “Fuck, yeah you are. C’mon, let me feel ya,” he groaned, mouthing at your neck. 
It only took a few more rolls of your hips before you came, his name tumbling from your lips as a loud cry, pleasure igniting all your nerves. Your stubbed nails dug into the back of his head, and he growled. Your whole body was trembling as you rode out your high, only ceasing the movement of your hips when it became too overstimulating.
A shocked laugh left you, and you slumped forward. That seemed to be the last straw for the couch, the furniture collapsing beneath the two of you. It nearly caused to tumble off his lap, but you felt his hands secure under your thighs. He stood, holding you like you weighed nothing, and your legs instinctively wrapped around his body. 
He eased you to the ground, the sand digging uncomfortably into your skin, causing your back to arch off the ground to avoid feeling it. You couldn’t help the gasp you let out when you watched him shrug off his jacket, tucking behind you wordlessly. These small glimpses of humanity you’d seen from the Ghoul, like when he saw the crib, or when he gave you a way lead you to believe that maybe he wasn’t as bad as you originally believed him to be.
Well, you still hated him, and you were still his captive, but you realized that he wasn’t a complete monster. It was moments like this, where those high walls he’d built to survive in the Wasteland began to crumble, and you could see glimpses of the man you assumed he once was.
He didn’t give you much time to reflect, though, because his lips were crashing against yours, and all thoughts disappeared. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, and you could feel his cock pressed against your folds. He didn’t press in though, and you whined against his lips, moving your hips as best you could to try and get him to move. “Whatdya want, sweetheart?” He murmured, nestling his head in the crook of your neck. 
“You,” you gasped out.
“I’m right here,” he chuckled a bit, and he still didn’t move.
Groaning, you ground against him again, trying to get him to just push himself into you. He groaned, yet he still didn’t move, his resolve stronger than you anticipated. “Fuck me, please,” you choked out, and you could see him smirk in satisfaction. 
He didn’t respond, and you felt him press into you, sheathing into you with a single thrust. Similar noises of pleasure escaped both your mouths, and your fingers wove into the fabric of his shirt, desperately trying to find something to grip onto. He stretched you out so well, and you gasped when you felt his hips press against you. He was so deep inside of you, father than any other person you’d taken to bed, and it overwhelmed you in all the best ways.
“Sugar, you feel incredible.” You babbled something in response, and you hated how proud he looked. He didn’t give you time to adjust before he was setting a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours. The sound of skin on skin and your cries of his name filled the room, and you swore if you gripped any tighter on his shirt that it would rip.
Small puffs of air tickled your neck with every thrust, whispers of your name hidden in the gasps. Fingers dug into your waist, most likely going to leave marks in the morning, your once smooth skin littered with marks of him. You couldn't see what your body looked like right now, but you had a pretty damn good idea, and the picture you visualized in your mind had you clenching around him, causing him to falter, albeit it only for a second.
Despite the slight overstimulation you were feeling, you could feel another orgasm begin to form, slowly but surely. Letting go of his shirt, you grasped at his face, pulling back up for another breath-stealing kiss. You were so caught up in the way he continued to thrust into you and the way his mouth slotted against yours that you failed to notice the way one of his hands left your waist. 
You broke the kiss with a startled yet pleased nosed when you felt his fingers begin to work at your clit, rubbing fervent circles into the sensitive nerves in time with the thrusts of his hips. “Cum on my cock, sweetheart. C’mon,” he groaned out, and your head hit the ground, barely softened by the jacket and the sand. 
His name had turned into soft pants, unable to form a coherent thought as he relentlessly fucked you. The added stimulation brought you closer to the edge, and you tried to let him know you were getting close. “Go ‘head, lemme feel ya,” his accent had been cranked up to a hundred, and in any other situation you would’ve found that funny. 
With a final cry of his name, you came again, your vision going white as you temporarily spaced out, the pleasure too overwhelming. When you came to, he had pulled out of you, leaving you empty and shivering. You watched as he stroked himself a few more times before he came all over your stomach.
It was only the sound of breathing in the room now, both of you just staring at each other as you calmed. Relaxing on his coat, you watched as he stood, tucking himself back into his pants as he did. Closing your eyes, you focused on your breathing, jumping when you felt a cloth on your stomach, wiping away his release from your skin. 
He didn’t say anything, tossing the cloth to one of the corners of the room when he was done. He placed your clothing beside you, before sitting and resting against the collapsed remnants of the couch, head rolling back. 
Groaning, you broke free from the post-orgasmic haze you were in, sitting upright. Both pleasure and pain still lingered in your muscles, making your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Slipping on your undergarments, the dampened fabric of your underwear was incredibly uncomfortable, but you gritted your teeth and ignored it. After putting on your bra, you debated putting on the Vault-Tec suit, but the idea of putting it back on made our overheated body cry. 
The Ghoul watched you as you redressed, thinly veiled desire and interest flicking in those eyes. You were now sitting upright on his jacket, and you got up onto your knees, freeing the garment and holding it in your arms. Scooting towards him, you held it out to him with shaking arms, almost like a peace offering. His eyes didn’t leave you as he took it, setting it beside him.
Before you could decide that it was a bad idea, you sat down next to him, shoulders brushing. If he was surprised, he did a good job of hiding. Exhaustion returned, and you felt your eyes begin to flutter close, head bobbing as you struggled to stay awake.
It was your turn to be surprised when you felt him pull your shoulder down, resting your head in his lap. You were even more surprised when he draped his jacket over your shoulders, the material thin enough to not overheat you. You glanced up at him with wide eyes, but he avoided your gaze, staring at the half-standing wall in front of him.
“Rest. We’re leavin’ at sunrise.” His voice was hoarse, back to that commanding tone from earlier. 
Getting as comfortable as you could, you let your eyes shut, sleep beckoning you. You had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow, but as you felt his fingers comb delicately through your hair, you knew that he was no longer going to be following his original plan for you.
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fillinforlater · 1 day
Text
On her jeans (Part 3 of 3)
Male Reader x Kim Minji, Hanni Pham, Danielle Marsh
Length: 4606 words
Tags: Daddy kink, anal galore, blowjob, face fuck, blindfolded, 4some, pearly gates, spitting, spanking, cursing, humiliation, missionary anal, analpie, ass eating, rimming
TW: kinda rough, pure, stupid smut, ass eating, eating cum out of ass
-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3-
(A/N: the most likely final part of the On her series. This fic is very mindless lmao. Important announcement at the end.)
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“Yes, Daddy, that feels so good!”
Hanni’s enthusiasm is almost limitless. No matter how often you’ve ordered her to your office or your apartment or some secluded bed and breakfast, she never let you down. No, the only thing ‘down’ is the momentum of her hips whenever she rides you on the couch, her beautiful ass turned towards you. She loves to make it wiggle when your cock fills her cunt.
You take delight in such a sight and give her the good-girl-spanks she deserves. Hanni craves them as much as she craves your eyes, seeing nothing but love in hers. There is nothing stopping her from leaving, you never demanded the same things from her then you did from Minji. But where Minji lacks endless love and desire for you, Hanni fills these gaps and then some. 
“Oh my God, Daddy, you-you’re gonna make me cum again!” Hanni’s throat is sore from her moans and screams (and the rough face fuck you gave her earlier). “I-I can’t hold it!”
“Why would you hold it?” you ask her and pull her back against your bare chest. “Ruin yourself all over me, you slut.”
You give her thrusts, quick, not too strong and that is all she needs. Her effort was remarkable but in the end she wants you to fuck her over the edge. Hanni’s pussy convulses around your cock, tries to milk it and you are about to give in when your cell phone rings. 
“Fuck,” you curse and pick it up while dropping a powerless Hanni to the carpet floor. “Who is this?”
“Yo, have you turned on the TV?” the person on the other end, some former manager of a group you were interested in, asks. “Today are the MAMA awards.”
“And? They’ve been the same for basically forever. And you know I don’t have any control over—”
“Oh no, another group has won.” You can hear the smirk on his lips. “I bet you’ve heard the song and the group—some of them are under your wings, I assume?”
For a moment you are confused, then it dawns on you brightly. “You could say that,” you respond calmly and look at one of those who are under your wings—though under your cock fits better. “Let me be honest, I did not think that they would make it this far.”
“Their success is unheard of, they must have paid you really well,” he continues knowingly. The kind of business you do is in a paradoxical state of infamously known and also a dark secret in the industry. It’s a tightly knit conspiracy where every wrong step, every wrong turn can cost you basically everything. 
“Maybe they have to offer me something new, a MAMA win does not come around very often.”
#
“Congratulations on your win. I bet this is part of every trainee's dream” Sent by you
“Thank you, Daddy~ It definitely is, but I’m certain we couldn’t have done it without you “ Sent by Hanni
You smirk and scroll through your gallery. There is a picture you’ve saved, a picture of something you want. Some people screenshot what they want from social media apps or shopping sites—you will do the same right now, though your picture does not include a product one can buy. 
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“I found this picture of you and one of your friends. She is very attractive.” Sent by you
“I know, Danielle ist so damn pretty <3” Sent by Hanni
“Her prettiness equals probably two MAMA awards…” Sent by you
That should do it. Hanni is probably stunned right now. If Danielle is next to her, she probably looks at her—your terrible influence deeply rooted in Hanni’s mind—and she will see what you see: another object for your desire, another girl you can train to make your personal fuck doll, another idol sold by her bandmate. Unlike Minji, Hanni might actually like the idea. 
You wait patiently as she ponders, typing, then deleting message after message until she settles for a simple text that makes this unhinged, lustful being inside you lose any and all control.
“Daddy deserves his reward as soon as possible. We need just 20 to 30 minutes~” Sent by Hanni
With a victorious sigh, you throw away your smartphone. It audibly cracks on the floor, but you don’t give a fuck. Phones can be bought again, but what you will get, no one can buy. These next twenty minutes will feel like hours and every second beyond that will make you lose your mind. Atleast, that is what you would have to assume if it weren’t for someone suddenly sneaking into your apartment. 
Timid, quiet steps. The person is not wearing shoes. You hear the door fall shut, gently and suddenly, she stands in your doorframe. As if your life was a script, written by a higher being which, for some reason, likes your story to be filled with as much sexual fulfillment as possible, Minji has decided to come visit you. 
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“Hello, Daddy,” she coos, catching your gaze with the way she presses her frame against the door frame. Her two piece outfit with all its white frays perfectly merges with said door frame, the warm light making it look like she could disappear in your walls. “I’m sorry for not announcing myself, but may I come in?”
“That depends,” you say, trying to act not-too-happy about her convenient timing. “It’s nice to see you barefooted and in this pretty outfit—but you need to approach the right way.”
“Of course, Daddy.”
Minji gets on her knees. She begins to crawl over your wooden floor and seeing her eager eyes has you riled up. Instead of waiting for her to unbuckle your belt, you open it on your own and let your pants drop when her face reaches your crotch. Minji moans gently and presses her face against the massive bulge in your boxers. She’s not really teasing you. It’s more of a ceremony, because Minji quickly proceeds to pull down your boxers with nothing but her teeth.
“Daddy, it’s so big and beautiful,” Minji says in all honesty, her idol persona washed away by her own horniness. “May I service you with my mouth?”
“Stick out your tongue,” you order and Minji follows. You slap your tip on the exposed wet muscle and watch her faintly smile at how excited you seem. “Looks really good, how could I say no?”
No warning and just a moment later, you are buried to the hilt in Minji’s throat. She gags violently, her head tilted backwards and her wide eyes quickly release a torrent of tears. You don’t comment on it, watch on with a cold, resting bitch face and begin to fuck her face roughly. It’s hard thrust after hard thrust; not too fast though, because you want to see the submission steadily grow in her eyes.
“Fucking good, so much better since you started taking my cock like a premium whore,” you hiss and reach for the sides of her head. She locks eyes with you and through a sea of tears, you can see that she is happy. Still happy. “But it won’t be enough. I need more, another hole, and I’m not talking about your pussy. I know that you are dripping from there, but I’m going to split you open somewhere else.”
You pull out and watch Minji try to catch her breath, shocked, weak; she gets no time to recover however. You grab her hair and slide back into her not-awaiting, but slave-like throat. She takes your pounding even as it forcefully removes her faint mascara and leaves her a drooling mess. It’s Minji’s masterclass in deepthroats—a fitting end, because you will fuck something else today.
After many harsh thrusts, too many to count, but enough to have Minji at your complete mercy, you pull out. She bends over, tries to keep her composure and breathe, but you won’t allow this. She has to look at you and understand what you desire. You slap her face and spit at it. “Don’t avoid me, look at me!” you shout and Minji is tiny. A kneeling tiny bitch who follows your commands. “I will fuck your ass, do you understand?”
“Yes, Master,” Minji cries and puts her forehead to the floor. “Tha-Thank you for the award, Ma-Master. Please, a-abuse my ass.”
Not that it tugs at your heartstrings or anything—but instead of just fucking her in this state of complete devastation, you help her up, to her feet and cup her cheek firmly… almost gently. Minji still sobs, barely able to look up at you.
“You are here to thank me with your ass? That is actually adorable and very thoughtful of you.”
“I-I thought, because Master hasn’t fucked me th-there yet, and because he probably did with Hanni already, I—”
“Oh, I understand, but Minji—” You lean down to her ear and whisper, while your hand travels down her bare midriff into the dress and finds her folds, soaked in arousal. “—we are already past the Master stage. And you underestimate my greed, my desire for more, infinitely more. Don’t worry about that though. Get on the couch and show me your cute little asshole.”
“O-okay. Thank you, Daddy.”
As Minji lays down and wiggles off the bottom part of her dress, you get a bottle of water-like lube from a drawer in the living room table. These bottles are always nearby because situations like this have occurred quite a few times in your life. More than you can count, enough to make you the biggest villain for every girl group fan.
When you pour the lube on your cock, you inspect Minji and her cute posture. She is on her back, legs spread and in the air, while her fingers keep her butt cheeks apart. Her ring twitches and it twitches more when you rub lube all over it. Minji mewls, and mewls some more when you push a finger past the first tightness to lube the inside as well.
“You are a bit stiff, you need to loosen up or else it will hurt.”
“Isn’t it supposed to hurt?” Minji asks in all honesty. “I’m okay with Daddy hurting me, as long as he feels good.”
You have to hold back or else you would’ve laughed at her innocent expression and the confused fear in her orbs. You align your cock with her ass, not to immediately force yourself inside that hot, tight hole, but to teach Minji how to take you well.
“If you relax, Minji, I promise it will feel good. Weird at first, probably too big, but the more you loosen up and let your asshole become a source for pleasure, it will feel great.”
“Hanni probably already knows this,” Minji mumbles in shame. You quickly reach for her jaw and put a chaste kiss on her lips.
“To be honest, I haven’t even fucked her ass before, so stop worrying. Take deep breaths and stay re-laxed.” With those final words, you wait for Minji to follow your instructions—breathe in; breathe out—before you push your cock into her brown hole.
“Oh Daddy, fuck,” Minji groans, right into your face and you love how her hands start to hold onto your back, your arms as you push more cock into her. “You are so, so big!”
“There is still more, but you are doing a great job, Minji,” you respond calmly, lifting up her ass a bit to penetrate her deeper. “Soon, you’ll love this more than anything.”
“Daddy!” Your cock is fully inside her and Minji seems to go crazy, her head thrown back into the couch, her mouth releasing loud moans rapidly. Her anal cavity squeezes you tightly, tries to wring you and it’s insanely impressive. She takes you fully on the first go and slowly catches herself. “I-it feels weird but soooo—”
“Good, right? I can feel you relax, so I will start to fuck you for real now. Congratulations, you’re not a butt virgin anymore!”
Minji weakly laughs and then gasps when you drag your cock mostly out of her ass just to push it back in, deep, to the fucking hilt. You watch as her eyes open wide, then narrow, then close, all in the rhythm of your pumps. Her cunt drips more juice too, she cannot deny the pleasure.
“Daddy, why, why do you feel so good?” Minji screams. “Why, your cock—you made me your butt slut!”
“You’re a natural at this, most of your kind quickly become addicted.”
“Make me addicted, Daddy! Please, use this hole and make me—”
You reach underneath her frayed top and pinch a hard nipple, while your teeth go for her lower lip. You can feel her insides combust, her ass clenching around your cock, her pussy convulsing around nothing, yet it is enough to make her cum. Minji is orgasming from just her ass, but she tries to hide it. 
“There is nothing to be embarrassed about,” you laugh and begin to fuck Minji harder, her ankles in your firm hands. “Cum with your ass and be mine forever. You cannot escape anyways, so why would you want to? Don’t run from the pleasure, because I won’t stop fucking you until—”
Suddenly, you hear a key in the lock of your front door and someone whispering. Then quiet steps. Minji grows tense but you just smile at her, reassure her that there is nothing to be scared off. “Oh, you know these two, don’t worry~” 
“Huh?”
You look up and spot the first girl, Hanni, who smirks when she sees you. She puts a finger to her luscious lips and winks. You get her idea and press your palm on Minji’s mouth to keep her quiet while you slowly thrust into her tight ass. The young girl is visibly shocked that you just continue, but her shock grows even more when she spots the second girl.
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“Unnie, this is weird. How long do I have to wear this blindfold?”
“Just a little bit longer~ We are almost there, just a few more steps.”
Hanni guides the blind Danielle, a beautiful, skinny girl dressed in what you assume is a stage or award show outfit. Either way you love how exposed her midriff and collarbone are. Danielle’s skin is flawless and her face looks even better than in pictures or videos.
The two get closer. Hanni is now behind the taller girl and guides her by holding her hips. The two seem familiar with this kind of intimacy. You quietly pull out of Minji’s butt and luckily, she stays quiet in this tense situation. 
“Dani, we have arrived,” Hanni giggles and wraps her hands around her friends’ tiny waist. “I have a present for you, but you have to get on your knees and guess what it is~”
“Unnie, if it’s your pussy again—we already did that! And if you want to fuck, you can just ask!”
You raise an eyebrow at Hanni who is clearly nervous and sweating. She got caught fucking with a second member of her group without your permission. You can’t really blame her. You can’t wait to stick your cock into that tight body and fuck Danielle’s mouth with your fingers. But for now, you let Hanni finish her game.
“This time,” she continues and kisses Danielle’s shoulder. “It’s something different. I have found the biggest, most beautiful cock because I know you would want to suck one of those someday.”
Danielle’s pale skin starts to burn with a deep red. All of her blood seems to go to her face. She starts to lose focus and whimpers a bit, especially because Hanni becomes more touchy, hands on her chest, her tummy, her ass.
“H-how did you know, Unnie?”
“You are really, really bad at hiding your dildo’s, Dani. I found like four of them. One still had your saliva around it~”
Danielle puts both hands to her face and lowers it in shame. Everyone in the room can still feel the glow of her blush through her fingers. You stroke your cock once, amused at the situation, but also tired of waiting. Hanni notices and continues her plan quickly.
“Look, Dani, I’ll show you how to do it.” Hanni lowers herself in between your legs. For the first time, you check out her outfit. Odd, you remember it from some performances a few months ago—does it really matter when she immediately goes to suck you, throat you even? “Oh my, it tastes so good! I wonder why that is?”
You point to Minji’s still exposed asshole and Hanni smirks knowingly. Poor Minji did not dare to move a single inch this entire time but now with Hanni’s loud gagging filling the room, she can stop being quiet and move her hands to cover up.
“U-unnie, are you really sucking it?” Danielle asks the obvious, still in disbelief. “Is it a real one, like, are you sucking a boy?”
Hanni pops you free from her perfect lips and makes sure to taste all of the lube and Minji’s ass from your manhood with her tongue. She cleans you passionately, from sac to tip until you finally give her a bit of precum. 
“Dani, he is a man, a Daddy. Trust me, he is very good looking and his cock is even better~” Hanni’s voice is so lewd, it feels cursed with her adorable visuals. You relish in her compliments and brush her black strands back behind her ear. “Kneel next to me and I show you.”
Danielle kneels down, her small frame taking the spot in between your legs next to Hanni. She is still confused though. “But Unnie, how can you show me if I’m not allowed to remove the blindfold?”
Hanni rolls her eyes and without warning, grabs Danielle’s face and pulls her into a kiss. The younger girl flails in surprise, finds hold on your thigh, but somehow she can’t hold onto it for long. Maybe the thought of a stranger really seeing her like this makes her lose grip on the situation—a good thing in your book.
“Ha-Hanni-unnie!” Danielle shrieks when their lips disconnect. “Why, why did that taste so good?” 
“If you want more, you need to suck and clean his cock like I did. Here, open your pretty mouth and be a good girl for Daddy~”
“You say weird stuff—ugh, hng!”
You groan softly when Hanni not-so-softly pushes Danielle’s face down your cock. A new, sensational throat engulfs you. Of course you expected violent gags and tears coming from behind the blindfold, how could you not. Hanni is literally forcing Danielle to deepthroat you for the first time. Her dildo training seems to have paid off however: Danielle is a lot more composed, measured even and makes sure to keep her teeth off of you. 
Soon, she finds her own pace and bops up and down your shaft, using her tongue from time to time without yet knowing where it actually feels good for you. It’s hard for her to learn when she can’t read your facial expression, so she just guesses and sucks and bops her head. It makes it all the more impressive how she can keep up with you and do a better job than Minji did on her first try.
“Hanni-unnie,” Danielle immediately shouts after getting her mouth off of your dick. “That was very mean of you, like, what the—”
You interrupt the young, angry girl by giving her blindfold a tug and watching it fall off of her dazzling, still flushed features. You smirk down at her as she watches up in awe, her eyes inspecting you like you did to her earlier.
“Oh, he-hello, sir,” Danielle says and tries to be formal while your cock is still on her lips. “I’m sorry we just walked into here and… about this.” She points at your hard shaft which you take in your hand and poke against her soft cheek.
“Don’t worry about it, you beautiful thing. In fact, I should be sorry about this right here.” You point next to you, where Minji tries to cover up her pussy. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“You, you had sex with Minji-unnie? Like, i-in her vagina?”
“Oh Dani,” Hanni coos and puts a hand into Danielle’s red top. “You don’t know how good a real cock feels in your pussy. Way better than a dildo.”
“Stop being so lewd, Unnie!”
“But you two are wrong,” you interrupt them and look at Minji, who valiantly fights through her embarrassment. There is nothing to be embarrassed about though; she did great taking your cock in her ass. “We had anal sex just now, and I think I speak for us both when I say that it was awesome.”
Hanni pouts at the thought of not yet having you in her ass while Danielle is both struck by horror and thrill when she cross-eyes your cock and then switches to look at Minji’s butt, which you uncover for her.
“Minji-unnie, was it really that good?” Danielle asks with wide open eyes.
“Yeah, how was it?” Hanni adds and involuntarily adds pressure for the leader to answer.
“I-it was… the best.”
A moment of silence and awkwardness for Minji until Danielle jumps up and pulls down her black skirt. Another unexpected turn, she seems to be ready to go asap. “Sir, can you—would you have sex with my butt too?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” you try to play it cool and reach for the bottle of lube. “Turn around, we need to get you ready.”
“Here, let me help you, Daddy.” Hanni gets a hold of Dani’s ass as soon as she spins around and spreads the cheeks apart. Dani gasps at first, but then giggles when she finds her Unnie to be already naked. She starts to kiss Hanni’s skin while you put the nozzle to her beautiful, clean ring and push lube inside. Danielle shudders while Hanni looks on with jealousy. It will be her turn soon enough though. 
“You have a gorgeous body, Dani,” you compliment her before grabbing her waist and pulling her onto you. “You are so light, I think I need to try a new position with you. Are you down for that?”
“Sir, I—if it’s not too crazy, I think I can do it. But remember, this is my first time.”
“You have to be relaxed, Dani,” Minji suddenly adds and stands next to her, not covering her private parts anymore. “If you are tense, it’s going to hurt—when you are loose however, Daddy can fuck you so good, it will feel like heaven.”
“O-okay then, I think I’m ready.”
You nod and lay down on the couch, Danielle on top of you. She rests her back on your strong chest and your hard cock searches for her tight asshole. Luckily, Hanni is there to help align your tip with it (not before sucking it of course). Dani takes deep breaths instinctively and with your primal instinct to fuck, your cockhead disappears in her ass.
“Oh fuck, that looks so hot!” Hanni coos.
“Stop staring, please,” Danielle whimpers and you feel her incredible texture convulse around your aroused phallus. No, she definitely gets turned on by this, so you’ll make it even better.
“Hanni, keep staring,” you order. “Oh, and make your mouth useful on my ass. See it as punishment for having sex with Dani without my permission.”
“Yes, Daddy, I’m sorry Daddy.”
“Sir, isn’t this too lewd?” Dani asks while you begin to rock her thin body up and down your cock like it’s a fleshlight. 
“Minji, how about you lick Danielle’s pussy. Make yourself familiar with it.”
“Yes, Daddy, she tastes really sweet and is quite… wet.” Minji smiles and you get what she means. Her mouth is promptly on Dani’s clit and now the two are moaning in unison. Your thrusts into Dani’s ass become harder.
“Oh dang, so much in my a-a—, I mean butt,” she whispers and you look at her face. “Sir, you are one lewd bast— person. Making young girls do this stuff. Aren’t you a bit too old for us?”
“Maybe that is why they call me Daddy,” you respond, the humor lost because your expression remains stern even through the pleasure. “Don’t hold back, curse as much as you want. This is no tv show or live stage. Get used to this cock, because I won’t stop after this one time.”
“I won’t either, you fucking bastard.”
Your lips meet in a haze, then you decide to give it your all. You fuck Dani hard, force more and more curse words out of her good-girl-mouth. Her cunt is forced against Minji’s eager lips, while you make sure Hanni is covered in your musk—though she kinda seems to enjoy serving your ass. Even after all this, she might still be the best baby girl out of this trio.
“Yes, fuck, yes, you fill my tiny ass so good! Fuck me with your big fat cock, give me that cock, open me so wide until I—”
“You horny bitch.” You yank down her top to reveal tiny tits, jiggling a little at your every thrust. Her skin is glowing, she is in complete heat. Danielle is a nymph with a tight ass and a pussy so wet, she can save someone from dehydration. You want to test your theory, if her orgasm is as explosive as you want it to be.
“My Lord, I’m so going to fucking cum, I will cum! Make me squirt, make me fucking, ahh!”
Like a fountain, Danielle’s juices paint Minji’s face, cover her hair and even Hanni below. She also doesn’t stop, not with your endless thrust into her ass. She is like an infinite source, eventually filling Minji’s mouth and marking Hanni as a dirty, rimming whore covered in girl cum.
“That was so good, Sir—”
“We are not yet done!” You squeeze Dani to your chest so she cannot escape and start to violate her ass some more, to the point your entire cock stretches her in all directions. For some reason, you feel like you could breed this hole for two eternities, but for now, one massive load has to be enough. 
With your final, deepest of thrusts, you force all of your seed into Danielle’s tight ass-pussy, fill it up and make sure she is tight enough to keep it inside for now. Pulling out is hard but rewarding, and hearing, feeling her pant on top of you is heavenly. 
“It’s so deep in me, fuck,” she moans and you bite her cheek. 
“Push it out of your slutty hole, you naughty bitch. 
“Hanni, Minji! Get ready for your daily load!”
The two girls are under our spell, not questioning anything you say and stick out their tongue underneath Danielle’s butthole. You pull back her heels to give them more space and with an blissful, erotic expression, Dani lets her ass be gaped. Your creamy white cum oozes out of her and Minji and Hanni greedily eat it all up, even getting their tongues into the completely overstimulated girl and cleaning her butthole.
“Shit, this is so lewd,” Dani whimpers and you put a hand around her throat.
“After I fuck Hanni’s ass in a rough Doggy, my heel on her face because I know she loves that, you will eat my cum out of her ass too. And don’t lie; I know you will like it.”
Danielle grins, licking her lips in excitement. “You are such a nasty bastard, Daddy.”
(A/N2: here is the very short version, I'll release a longer announcement later this week probably. I have decided to quit for a while, maybe forever but that is still in the stars. I can still write and I kinda like it, but this endless cycle of horniness and unhinged smut is killing me. I also need to focus on life/studies. More on that later this week. Love you all, peace out.)
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sweetmoonlight7 · 15 hours
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22. Evoke
@jegulus-microfic | April 22: evoke | word count: 579
To Regulus, Christmas time had always been a tad bit draining.
The lights, decorations, the music. The ways the halls were filled with fading laughter all around him. It evoked a feeling of longing, of missing, so strong it wrapped around his lungs. This time of year was supposed to be warm and bring out happy memories, but he didn't really have any.
Even a place like Hogsmeade, a fairytale-like place that was full of so many people and strong emotions, was so draining.
That’s why he felt so reluctant to accept James’ invitation to spend Christmas with his parents and his friends. Maybe it was a mix of not understanding the holiday, or maybe it was his obvious family issues that he had growing up.
He agreed, though. Of course, he did. He loved James, and he did want to spend this time with him. There was just a not so small part of him that was worried about how it would go.
For good reason he supposes.
It wasn’t like this was bad, though. He just felt a bit… out of place.. but that wasn’t the biggest feeling he was getting.
Really, he just felt overwhelmed.
He tried to look at Sirius for help, for direction… but Sirius looked so in his element like he had always belonged in a place like this. He wanted to convince himself that it was because Sirius got out earlier than him, but he wasn’t so sure about that.
The only time he had been in a situation like this was when his parents would organize parties with their friends, and that…was nothing like this.
Those events were always filled with stress and judgment from everyone in the room.
Here everyone is so…united? But not to hurt or judge. They are a real family, even though most of them are not even related.
It was difficult, sure.
Looking out there, Regulus felt like he was dreaming.
Every single person that was important to him, who had managed to make his life better, was there. Having fun, enjoying the holiday.
And although it was overwhelming, he loved it. It didn’t feel draining or like it was taking away from some imaginative something he thought he should have. It made him feel at peace.
He looked around and saw his brother by the fireplace with Dorcas and Marlean.
The twins and Lily are over in the dining room, helping Monty with something.
Finally, he looked around and found James.
He was sitting by Remus and Mary, his mom occasionally bringing them drinks or passing by to say something to them.
James also looked in his element but in a different way. Not liked he belonged but like he harbored the environment to make everyone else belong.
This was perhaps one of his favorite things about James, the way he made everyone else feel seen.
He must have been staring for a long time because when he finally came out of his thoughts, James was staring back at him, a small smile climbing up the corner of his mouth.
It didn’t take long after they made eye contact for him to walk over and wrap his arms aroundRegulus’s shoulder.
This holiday… It was hard for him. He couldn’t start from the beginning. He knew that, had tried it before, and had only been disappointed by the results.
Being here with James, though, as overwhelming and new as it was to him, it was perfect.
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glorestarz · 2 days
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enter— kazuha kaedehara !!
status: unedited
synopsis: you died, and kazuha, your lover, is still in mourning.
cw: talk of death and grief
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according to elizabeth kubler-ross, when we are dying or have suffered a catastrophic loss, we all move through the five distinct stages of grief. we go into denial because the loss is so unthinkable, we can’t imagine its true. we become angry with everyone—angry with survivors, angry with ourselves. then we bargain. we beg, we plead. we offer everything we have. we offer up our souls in exchange for just one more day. one more minuscule day, seconds even. when the bargaining has failed and the anger is too hard to maintain, depression soon follows after; despair. until finally we can accept. accept their fate. we let go, we let go and fall into acceptance.
the very worst thing of grief is that you can’t control it. the best we can do is try to let ourselves feel it when it comes. and let it go when we can.
he was all too familiar.
kazuha had read that somewhere once and when he read the letters scrawled onto the pages he’d have never thought he would experience the stages so soon. twice even. as he would now, two shabby graves sitting side by side.
his lone figure stands before the two gravestones, his stout silhouette cast in stark relief against the fading light of day, the angry ball of fire sinking below inazuma’s tempestuous waters yonder.
it was a nice day out. it was peaceful, water lapping at the shore. you’d both have liked it.
the air is heavy with the scent of loamy dirt, sea salt and freshly cut flowers, the green stems he twiddled absent-mindedly within his calloused fingers. a familiar scent upon the wind.
the brooding, oppressive stillness deepened. not a breath of air stirred the sprays of the copse, which slept motionless as though carved in stone. how ironic. even the distant chorus of bird voices were hushed. the only sound was the gentle rustle of strayed leaves underfoot.
before him was the slab of cobblestone with its chiseled, looping inscription of your name. tomo’s was there too, no doubt. a singular sword wedged through the ground, marred by cracks and fissures that sprawl haphazardly across its weather-beaten blade, the once sharpened edges softened with the age of time. it had been a long time ago after all.
yours was newer. unlike tomo’s, you had little to nothing to your name; this was the best he could do under the span of time he’d be visiting there. maybe you would have liked it, he can’t recall.
and as much as he liked to idle, to remember what you would’ve said, stagnancy would do him no good (being a wanted criminal and all), no matter how much his heart ached and wept for you.
nothing can fully blunt his homesickness but at least, here, he can visit freely without any on-lookers. it was a simple pleasure being with you both here. and when his heart aches, he quietly tells himself that you will talk tomorrow. of course tomorrow never comes. but he still tries his best. he missed the little mundane talks.
this time around, he had brought you flowers, glaze lilies to be exact. they were quite a hassle to find, hidden in liyue’s golden rolling hills, but you loved them so he couldn't just come empty-handed, isn’t that right [name]?
“they dug up the corner of jing’s place. putting in a new road.” he started, shaking his head, crouching down to place the flowers before you; their vibrant colors stood out against the muted tones of the packed ground.
his muscles squealed shrill in protest of the movement. his muscles were tired. all of him was tired.
“you’d hardly recognize it now.” his gaze is soft as it is distant, staring pensively into the distance with a serene expression on his pallid face, lost in memories that dance like shadows across his mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the life he once shared with two of the most important people in life who now lay beneath the earth. that part of his life will always be his favorite.
he doesn't know how long he spent staring.
“that’s all i had for you today, i’m sorry if it was a bore.” as he spoke, his voice is barely above a whisper, the words catching in his throat like fragile leaves carried on the wind’s breeze. both of you would have been bemoaning about how uninteresting his days were. those conversations spun tirelessly in his his head. on silent days like this, he missed you both a little louder.
his gazes returned to you. you were shorter than him now, buried deep in the ground.
with one last gentle touch, he traces the letters of the inscription, his fingers lingering on each curve and line as if seeking to etch them into his memory. his touch tender and reverent, the stone cold beneath his fingertips.
[name], his [name], goodbye.
“a pity that i can't reside here for long.” he straightened himself out from his squatted position. “i’ll be bidding farewell now. and i expect you two to get along in the my absence, yes?”
he wore a placid smile on his thin lips as he turned heel back to the crux.
no response, of course. he’s fine with that. next time then, tomo and [name].
there were five stages of grief and— they looked different on all of us. but there are always five. denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and lastly acceptance.
life went on somehow, but it was never the same again. though, he will not hopelessly wait around for you. he will continue his life, making new memories. still, wherever you are he hoped the skies were bluer, the colors are brighter, the hills are higher, and the world was kinder. to you both. and while you're there, there was no need to worry about him, the nostalgia will keep him company.
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epicbuddieficrecs · 18 hours
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Fic rec for my BFF, pt.2 : Seasons 4-5
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Here's the next part of my "fic rec for my BFF who's watching 9-1-1" series, covering seasons 4 and 5!
Season 4
To Build a Home We Deconstruct Our Rituals by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
Post-S4, Marriage of convenience | 44K | Explicit
After the shooting, Eddie realizes he needs to put some things in place. Like who will get his assets if he dies. Who will speak for him if he ends up in a coma. What might happen if his family contests Buck's guardianship. Luckily, he's got a simple easy-peasy solution that won't result in insanity, catastrophe, or heartbreak: Marry Buck.
Eddie: Let's get married! In a platonic way! 😆
it's blue (the feeling i got) series by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck
Post-Shooting | 4 works, Complete | 37K
don't want no other shade of blue but you (Post-S4E14 | 11K | Teen): “You can’t go see your son like this.” That gives Buck pause. “He’s not—he’s not my son.” “Isn’t he, though?” she says. And part of Buck wants to argue, but a bigger part of him thinks, isn’t he, though? Not by blood, sure, or legally, but in all the ways that matter, Christopher is as good as his son. if your cascade ocean-wave blues come (Post-S4, Getting Together | 16K | Mature): “You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?” Ana sounds disappointed, but not all too surprised.“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Sorry.” “It’s because of Buck,” she says, barely a question. “Isn’t it?” “Um,” Eddie says, because he doesn’t really know how to answer that when Buck is flipping pancakes at the stove three feet away from him. in my eyes, my heart, my soul (Fluff | 2K | General): “We made you pancakes for Father’s Day,” Christopher says. Eddie watches the expressions that cross Buck’s face. Surprise, confusion, then a careful kind of joy like he’s beginning to put together exactly what Christopher means.  “For—for me?” Buck asks, so quiet Eddie barely hears it. “Yeah,” Christopher says. “I want you to be my other dad. If… if you want to be.”  the blues, and then purple-pink skies (Established Buddie, Secret Relationship | 8K | Teen): OR: three times Buck and Eddie (think they) manage to hide their relationship, and one time the truth comes out.
Stucky has Post-Winter Soldier recovery fics, Steddie has post-Upside Down recovery fics, and Buddie has Post-Shooting-Buck-moves-in-with-the-Diazes fic! 😆
this must be the place by euadnes/ @kananjarus
Canon Divergent, Post-Shooting | 75K | Teen
Every life altering event is often led up to with a series of other important events. In this case, there were at least three: An unstoppable fire. An afternoon spent underneath a blanket of California blue sky. But firstly, and maybe the most important of all: There was the impeccable aiming of an ex-sharpshooter. Or, the Buck is also shot by the sniper AU that no one asked for.
Benign Fatality by EtoileGarden/ @etoilegarden
Time Loop AU, Season 2-4 | 23K | Teen
Eddie noticed it like this; Sometimes, when Buck’s done a day too many times, he forgets that this day might be the real day, the one that continues on into the rest of his life. It’s exhausting dying and waking up just to go die again. And the thing was, when a death was to do with work, he knew he could just ask to be man behind, or not go into work, but - but who would he be condemning to die in his place if he didn’t go in and try to avoid it? Maybe no one, yes, but maybe someone. Buck repeats days until he doesn't die in them, has an underdeveloped sense of self worth, and Eddie is the one who wants to step in with him.
Amazing fic, such an interesting concept!!
i don't swim and you're not in love by hattalove/ @hattalove
S4, Post-Buck Begins | 32K | Teen
She turns to Eddie and says something else, but Buck is busy fighting the headrush he gets at the sound of Ana Flores calling Eddie and Christopher 'the boys'. Like they belong to her already. God, what’s wrong with him? What is this? or, eddie cooks, chris domesticates a slug, and buck tries to figure out why he hates his best friend's girlfriend. to everyone's immense shock and surprise, it goes badly.
A Classic by the always amazing hattalove!!
everything (nothing) has changed by bizarrestars
Post-S4, Love Confessions | 48K | Explicit
Buck breathes for a moment, then sets his shoulders. "Eddie, there's something I have to tell you." "Do you?" Eddie asks flatly, still alarmed and doing his best to hide it. "I would've never guessed." Buck swallows. "Eddie, I love you." "Are you softening the blow, or buttering me up? Because, I've got to tell you, I'm still very worried regardless," Eddie tells him. "No, you don't understand. I love you. I'm currently in love with you," Buck says as evenly as possible, and even then, his voice wobbles precariously there for a moment. He exhales. "You don't have to worry about it, though, because I've processed it and decided to—to find relief in telling you before moving on and moving forward." Eddie stares at him. No response at all. Well, at least he's not freaking out. Or: After Eddie gets shot, Buck confesses his love. From there, things get a little out of hand.
Literally only just read it but the idiocy in this is CHEF'S KISS 😘👌 (#eddie said: get over me??? youre gonnna get over ME??? dont think so, <- love this tag 😂)
Those Two Firefighters by DarkFairytale
S4 to S6, Social Media/Outsider POV | 64K | Teen
#thosetwofirefighters starts to gather a following on social media, as everyone tries to figure out if those two cute firefighters from the 118 in LA are a thing or not.
Just a fun crack-y "social media" fic with some outsider POV mixed in (plus some 911LS!)!
Stuck on Fast Forward (Throw Away the Blueprint) by extasiswings/ @extasiswings
Post-S5, Friends with Benefits | 42K | Explicit
“Sounds like the problem is you think casual sex with a stranger or finding someone new to date are your only options.” Eddie’s brow furrows. “Aren’t they?” “I mean, there’s always…someone you already know. Who you’re already comfortable with.” “Because my pool of male friends who are single and who would be interested in having sex with me has so many options?” “Well, I don’t know about many, but you only need one,” Buck points out. “And who would that be?” “Me, of course.” [Or: Frank gives Eddie therapy homework, Eddie misunderstands the assignment, and Buck is just a really supportive friend...right?]
Have some more FWB, as a treat 😌
Season 5
The Aftermath of Liberation and Love Confessions by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress
Post S5E9: Past is Prologue, Coming Out, Getting Together | 17K | Teen
After a very long year of one terrible thing after another, Eddie has a brand new life strategy. It’s called not giving a shit. There’s the fire of a challenge in Buck’s eyes and a clench in the set of his jaw, and come on, it’s not as if Eddie forced Buck into dating the reporter. Not like he pays it any mind whatsoever. It was doomed from the start. She’s not good enough for him. She’s a terrible fit for him. Buck’s clearly been miserable for months. Still, Buck says, “Yeah, Eddie. Why don’t you teach us. What would you say if you were professing your love?” You mean something besides, “In the event of my untimely death, I made you legal guardian of my child”? In which Eddie comes out, sexuality is complicated but coffee is not, Buck makes an excessive salad and is also roasted, everyone has a love confession, and December is the most dramatic time of year.
Eddie not giving a shit is A Mood 👌 worth reading just for the scene from the summary 😆
Courtship Behaviors of the Southern Coastal Husbro by Mad_Lori/ @madlori
Post-S5, Queer Platonic Relationship, Getting Together | 49K | Explicit
“I want you in my family, I want us to be a family. Officially. A family can be a guy, his son, and his best friend, right?” Buck’s lower lip was trembling. “You’re really asking me to be your…what, now?” “Frank called it ‘platonic life partners.’” Buck looked stunned, and also…hopeful. “We could really do that?” - Buck and Eddie decide to become platonic domestic partners and co-parents. They are 100% super normal about it and absolutely nothing is awakened in them, except a mutual annoyance at being referred to as "husbros."
Love love love this series!!!
everything's coming up milhouse by hammersmiths/ @bucktommys
Post S5E10: Wrapped In Red, LAFD Liaison Eddie | 10K | Teen
LAFD Updates (@L*A*F*D_Metro) LAFD Alert: Red-level traffic on Gardiner Road this morning. If you are trying to get into the city centre consider taking Westerley Lane. buck 🔥🔥 (@firebuck) so true bestie or, Eddie mans the LAFD Twitter account. Buck tries to be supportive.
THE Twitter Eddie fic <3 just a funny social media fic but it's real cute!
let's hear it for the boy by hattalove/ @hattalove
Post-Season 5, Eddie Coming Out | 56K | Teen
in which eddie attends a self-empowerment group for gbtq men to supplement his therapy, and is empowered to: forgive himself, say "i'm gay" to his own reflection in the mirror, accidentally adopt an adult, make fried rice, and tell his straight best friend that he's in love with him. not necessarily in that order.
Such an amazing Eddie character study/coming out fic, so good <3
The Best Lie is a Truth (My Best Mask is My Face) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
Post-S5, Fake Relationship | 43K | Explicit
The Buckleys are celebrating their 50th Anniversary, and Maddie and Buck are both expected to come. To take the heat off Maddie, Buck impulsively blurts out that he's seeing someone new. Obviously, there's only one solution: bring Eddie as his fake boyfriend, pretend to be in love with him, and survive the weekend with minimal bloodshed. No problem, except for the, uh. "Pretend" part. Oops.
Excellent fake relationship fic!! it's got it all! Pining! Practice kissing! There was only one bed!!
Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania/ @hmslusitania 
Post-S5, Missing Presumed Dead, Amnesia | 44K | Mature
“We’re here for our grandson,” Helena says. “Chris is still sleeping,” Buck says. “I meant, we’re here to take him back to Texas,” Helena clarifies. “Yeah,” Buck says. He’s too tired, way too tired to be tactful. “Over my dead body.” An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed. While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.
The angst is SO GOOD!!!! A re-read favorite.
Plus or Minus by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress
S5 | 10K | General
"Chris said you were crying. You came home, hugged him, and cried more than he’s ever seen.” Eddie considers for a moment but then shrugs and continues neatly stacking mugs in the cupboard. “It happens. Sometimes. I’ve been told I’m supposed to let it out instead of bottle it up. So. There you go.” “Why are you cleaning out the kitchen? Why is my stuff in boxes?” Eddie slows, then stops. “Figured you’d want it back.” It’s quieter. Pained. When he says it. “I haven’t decided anything. So unless you’re kicking me out—” “Buck. Come on.” He’s not angry or snapping. It’s still quiet, and somehow that hurts even more. He’s resigned and defeated, and Buck is a scooped out, gutted, hollow shell. “I know how this ends the same way you do. You want to be loved, you want to be married. You’re going to leave. Might as well…” His voice cracks before he can finish and get it under control. “Shouldn’t drag it out.” ~ Taylor is offered a job across the country and asks Buck to go with her. Buck has to figure out if he wants to start over or if he has a reason to stay right where he is.
The notes on my bookmark are: pining so good it gives you chest pains 🥺
Canon Divergent/AUs
Even in Winter There is Eranthis by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
Inspired by Hades&Persephone, Mythological AU | 45K | Explicit
Buck is supposedly a god. Supposedly. But he's got no idea what his domain is or what role he plays in Olympus. When he meets Christopher, a young boy lost and trying to find his father, he helps Chris get home - and ends up accidentally binding himself to the Underworld. Now bound to Eddie, the god of the dead, Buck must spend half the year with him in the Underworld while winter reigns above. But even as something grows between them, there are still trials to endure. Just because the gods are not mortal... does not mean they cannot die.
my words are paper tigers by hattalove/ @hattalove
Time Loop, Canon Divergent | 20K | Teen
He wakes up with Eddie's arm thrown over his waist. There's a pit in his stomach as soon as he opens his eyes, because the alarm is on again, the same radio station, the same song. The sunlight streaming into the room is buttery-soft, brand new because it's early. The alarm is ringing so they can take Chris to school. And— He reaches out for the bedside table on his side of the bed they share, clumsily unplugs his phone one-handed. The screen lights up to a familiar wallpaper, and it's right there, just above the top of Buck's head: Wednesday. or: buck breaks up with eddie, even if it means losing a part of himself, because it's the right thing to do. the universe decides to test that conviction.
I fucking love time loop fics!!! 👌
Hot Ghost Problems by ebjameston/ @ebjameston
Canon Divergent, S2, Ghost Buck, Witch Eddie | 41K | Teen
Eddie is the newest firefighter at the 118. Buck is the ghost haunting the 118. Unfortunately for both of them, Eddie's also a witch and needs to put Buck's spirit to rest, because that's what witches do. Turns out, Buck's spirit? Super not interested in being put to rest. Very interested, however, in flirting with Firefighter Diaz, who is just trying to survive his candidate year. (Also turns out, Buck? Super not dead.)
I know you love witchy vibes and I really enjoyed this one! There's also a great podfic if you like that.
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lulublack90 · 2 days
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Prompt 21 - Dystopian AU
@wolfstarmicrofic April 21, word count 979
CW- Death by gunshot
The Earth was dead. Nothing grew apart from genetically modified mushrooms. The planet’s water was so toxic it had to be run through filters repeatedly to make it even halfway drinkable. The once beautiful green country Sirius lived in was now brown.
The HOB owned everything. They owned the food, water, phones, housing, and vehicles. Whatever you could buy. Somehow, it all led back to The HOB. 
Sirius lived in an old block of flats that had been converted to house hundreds of occupants. His room was a small pod. It was barely tall enough for him to sit up in. He did, however, have a shelf, which most people would kill for. It’s the little things in life. 
Most of the Earth's inhabitants, at least those with money, had bought passage on the gigantic space cruisers. They were cities in the skies, set to blast off into outer space to protect the elite from the Earth’s final days. 
Sirius had helped to build these beasts, but apparently, he wasn’t good enough to be part of the crew. So he spent most of his time in a local garage helping to fix the vehicles of the same posh prats that would be leaving.
One such vehicle had an issue that took him the entire day to sort out. He pulled out a stack of paper real-life paper from the air filter box. The customer brushed him off when he came for the vehicle, and Sirius was left with the papers. 
That night, he pored through the papers. He didn’t understand half of it, but he understood enough to know this was important. Sirius decided he needed to show a friend of his what he’d found.
“It’s, it’s, it’s amazing. Sirius, The HOB, has been hiding this from everyone. It’s not too late to save the Earth!” Marlene exclaimed as she typed some complicated equations into her computer. 
The door burst open, and armed guards flooded into the small space. They raised their guns and shot Marlene before she could even open her mouth. Sirius ran. 
He didn’t know how he got out of that room, but if he had to guess, they probably hadn’t expected him to move. 
Sirius had always been fast, and he used the adrenaline coursing through his veins to run as fast as he could. The men were right behind him, though. He dashed around a corner and found himself on the airfield with the space cruisers. 
He raced towards the nearest one and, with the knowledge only someone who’d helped build one, opened a secret hatch in its belly and wiggled into the cramped space. 
He gulped in air as he tried to catch his breath. The hull was so dense. He had no idea if the men were still there. He’d have to leave it for a few hours at least before he tried to escape. 
With the adrenaline wearing off and nothing but his thoughts to keep him company, he let the misery of Marlene’s death wash over him and focused on how it was his fault she was gone. The tears that fell from his eyes were thick and hot. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. 
Suddenly, a horrendous booming rumble blasted his eardrums. It took him precious moments to realise the ship was about to launch. He tried in vain to open the hatch, but once the engines were engaged, all external doorways were locked down. 
The noise got louder, and he screamed as his eardrums tried hopelessly to block out the noise. He crushed his fists to them and felt the ship begin to rise. 
The booming got worse, and he was crushed into the floor as the behemoth gained speed. He felt his bones rattling and shaking as the ship fought against the Earth’s gravitational pull. 
After what felt like an eternity, everything stopped. He knew there would be the gentle thrum of the engines if his ears could actually pick up sounds anymore and that the ship wouldn’t feel like it was moving at all if his body wasn’t still trembling. 
He reached his hand above him and unlocked the internal hatch above him. He dragged himself up into the corridor. It was made for crew and never meant to be seen by the paying passengers. He wandered along it, having no idea what he was going to do. He didn’t have permission to be here, and he didn’t put it past some of the employees on here not to just expel him into the void. 
His ears popped as he walked down another corridor, and he regained some of his hearing just in time to catch the sound of boots walking towards the next bend ahead of him. He flew through the door beside him and waited for the footsteps to disappear. 
Sirius glanced around the room he was in. It appeared to be sleeping quarters, and compared to his tiny pod, it was huge. Two full-sized beds, built into the wall in bunks, a door that probably led to a washroom and two sets of drawers. 
Before he could plan his next move, the washroom door opened, and a tall shirtless man wrapped only in a towel, with beads of water running down his chest, walked out into the room. 
“Oh, hello. I didn’t think I had a bunkmate.” He reached out a hand. “I’m Remus.” Sirius tentatively took it and shook it. 
“Sirius,” He introduced himself. 
“Well, hello, Sirius. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 
Sirius forgot all about the previous hours of his life. He’d have to find a way back to Earth and figure out a way to get the information out that would save it so that Marlene’s death wouldn’t be meaningless. But right now, all he cared about was the man with the honey eyes beaming at him.     
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andradrawsstuff · 19 hours
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An in-depth character analysis of Skipper: pt 2
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So, tv Skipper is a bit of a contrast to movie Skipper, as I stated in my MASSIVE ramble in part 1 💀 Even though he’s so different, he does have his quirks and some decent character development. It’s also great to see how much Tom’s voice acting evolves over the seasons and I thank him so much for putting his heart into it 🥺
This is also going to be a long one I am so sorry, I tried
This version of Skipper started off pretty similar to his movie counterpart as the show was finding its footing, but soon evolved into his own version of himself as the series went on. In early season 1, we see Skipper be somewhat down to earth and have quite an honourable attitude. He’s not super shouty-screamy and we see him being pretty domestic, which is probably because season 1 is pretty slice-of-life compared to the other two seasons.
I think the main points to mention here are in Happy King Julien Day and Assault and Batteries - in hkjd, despite all sorts of interruptions Skipper gets a little angry, but doesn’t really act upon it, he just minds his own business. Eventually he confronts Julien, but remains civil throughout the entire thing. In Assault and Batteries, he takes the batteries but does so sneakily to minimise confrontation. And when Julien chases him, he doesn’t fight. Throughout the entire episode (and a good bit of the show), he remains somewhat civil and tries to minimise confrontation with Julien. He’s also pretty sweet at the end when he offers a high five like bro that’s adorable I can’t-
We also get to see some decent character development for him in season 1, as there’s a lot of Skipper-centric episodes. In Needle Point, Skipper realises he should take the shot so that Private doesn’t get sick - he takes accountability for his actions, and his conversation with Private is pretty sweet. I love that you get to see Skipper being sweet (especially with Private) in the series, since they’ve had the time to show a bit of his vulnerable side here and there.
But I think that the most important character development point in Skipper’s story is Miss Understanding - Since the start of season 1, Skipper was pretty sexist and it gets so bad that he thinks he can’t do anything he did before because he’s a girl. He eventually saves the guys and the episode comes to a resolution.
But here’s the thing, not once is he sexist after that (Unless I’ve missed a few things here and there but I think he genuinely learns his lesson) which makes me think that his sexism is intentional on the writers part bc they do make it a point that it’s wrong, so w tpom and it’s pretty neat and rare for an early 2000s show to cover. This is why I love love love season 1 Skipper - he’s flawed but in a realistic way and he usually makes an effort to fix his mistakes. He’s also quite nonchalantly chaotic like in the movies, whereas in later seasons he’s more aggressively chaotic if you catch my drift? Idk how to explain well lmao.
As for his other traits, he’s pretty paranoid and egocentric, but still as suave, sassy and sarcastic as movie Skipper. He’s defo got a lot more of an “I’m right and you’re wrong” attitude than his counterpart and is a fair bit grumpier which is pretty funny. He’s got a bit of a hero complex here (eg. Treasure of the Golden Squirrel) and at first he’s arguably more chaotic good than neutral compared to the movies, but it’s not such a big change that it makes it bad in any way. I mean, he still kinda has it out for the humans and chooses violence without a second thought which is hilarious to me 💀
As the series progresses, Skipper starts to get increasingly paranoid and aggressive, and a lot of his negative traits start to show more. In early season 2 he’s fine but you can tell when the writers were starting to lose the plot both with the characters and stories in late season 2. It kinda feels like his character took a 180 turn and went backwards, but honestly it’s not that noticeable and I just happen to love analysing these things. I mean, it also happens to Kowalski, who around the same time starts becoming a bit of an asshole and gets worse in season 3 - in Snowmageddon, he’s rlly dismissive of Private and Fred.
I think Skipper also ends up suffering what I like to call the “Sabrina Spellman treatment” because he starts making mistakes and refusing to take accountability, usually pinning the blame on someone else without repercussions. I guess it’s the only real “problem” I have with his character in the series but honestly it’s just something that tends to happen as shows go on for a long time and it’s not all that bothersome. But the thing is, he starts getting better again in season 3 and he gets more character development (eg. Snowmageddon where him and Marlene work rlly well as a team and Antics on Ice where he’s pretty much doing everything for Private 🥺) so idk what happened there 💀
Overall, tv Skipper is still a loveable little guy and I find it so funny when he gets angry out of nowhere, my fav crazy Skipper moment being the one where he swears he’s never gonna end up in Hoboken and starts screaming his lungs out 💀 (absolutely top-notch voice acting as always ofc).
But with this, I hope that you’ve enjoyed my ridiculously long character analysis and feel free to tell me your thoughts, this is all just my opinion after all :)
If you’re somehow still reading this I congratulate you, you get a gold star ⭐️
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clowndensation · 7 months
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trying to explain charoum cries during sex like okay so it's not that charoum has never felt an honest emotion, it's that he's just inherently disinterested in contextualizing his emotions in an authentic way, and so the single time he genuinely feels something and is unable to sublimate it into a performance to further an agenda, he immediately gets so overwhelmed by the experience he collapses in on himself and it all ends up leaking out of him.
and it just so happens that this happens while astarion is attempting to seduce him.
so by the time charoum settles back into himself again, and is better able to channel his emotions into something productive, he now has one single core memory of feeling something, genuinely, as himself, with absolutely no ulterior motive behind it. and he links that experience with astarion. which does (un)fortunately link them together tighter than charoum has ever been bound to anyone else in his life. which should be fine for them.
#it's like. the thing with alfira happens. charoum is shaken up by it (and his lack of control over himself) but otherwise feels fine.#good even. he lied his way through something and feels good about it - even though he doesn't necessarily like that he killed her.#it wakes up a part of him that was otherwise lying dormant and helps orient how he feels.#and then a couple days later astarion propositions him.#because astarion literally doesn't give a shit about alfira and doesn't even consider for a second that someone dying in camp is a reason#to stop his plan to seduce charoum into keeping growing attached to him.#and it goes fine! it's all going fine! but then charoum lets astarion bite him (because he genuinely finds that hot. they both know this.)#and suddenly charoum's in this immediate physical moment and there's blood and there's a body on him and his heart is pounding#and he's flooded with completely uncontrollable emotion - the same way he was filled with a completely uncontrollable compulsion to kill#and he panics. and he cries.#which freaks astarion out (though he won't admit it) which makes charoum panic (which is a reaction he doesn't understand)#and he tries to play it off and say they can just keep going through it. which. astarion obviously handles. not well.#and so he responds the way he always responds when he's uncomfortable - which is to say extremely biting and callously#and it's just. genuinely an entire mess. at some point i'm just gonna write a fic about it i think#anyways charoum cries during sex real and true and important.#charoum
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ilxiu · 4 months
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i hate having to babysit other's emotions
#at the beginning of the year we gave my brother a switch lite since i upgraded to an oled#we were not rlly expecting him to get into it since he's always been into one of those play station bros but he really loved it#and got a bunch of games and it's kind if become his main game consile#we bought a regular switch secondhand but in very good condition for xmas so my brother can play on the tv and stuff#he's always been a fan of shell mods so i was planning on replacing the shells and gift it to him all decked out#now my dad also has a regular switch and he's very rough with his electronics#i've had to replace his rails and joycon parts a couple of times bc every time he plays fall guys and it's slow he blames it on his control#and disconnects and reconnects his joycons very roughly and blames that it's broken (even though it isn't)#anyways i was planning on replacing the shells on my brother's gift today to wrap it#and my dad has a bit of an attitude that maybe he should get the newer switch (even though all important parts in his were replaced)#and says my brother is not gonna appreciate it since he's kinda dirty with his electronics#basically complaining that he's gonna get stuck with the bad switch even tho they are the same#i TRIED telling him that my sister and i already planned to give this other switch to my brother#and if we were to switch both consoles then should something go wrong/not work then i would have both of them whining to me#since im the go to tech person in my family#of course my dad didn't even listen to what i had to say and prefers to play the victim and isolated himself in his room#and just like#why do i have to deal with a literal toddler ??? this man is in his 50s
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kamaluhkhan · 3 months
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THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)
read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)
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pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)
word count: 8.5k
summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.
warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!
author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it ♡
♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo
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(i. you have a sharp tongue)
fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.
"you'll get used to it."
luke sat up to see you climbing through the window. 
you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer. 
“the shitty mattress?”
“i meant the whole chaos of cabin 11, and the way things work around here in general. if you can get used to the shitty mattress, all power to you.” 
your tone was friendly enough, playful even. you smiled at him so comfortably it made luke nauseous. 
“good to know.” he tried to smile back at you, but his heart wasn’t in it. “i’m luke, by the way.”
“yeah, i know. i’m —”
“y/n!”
you seemed entirely unfazed as the blond who called your name stormed over to you. you rolled your eyes, something only luke could notice, before turning to her.
“someone stole my candy.”
“i’m very sorry to hear that, maddy. gotta be careful around here.” your voice dripped like poisoned honey, deceptively innocent and sweet.
maddy was not having it. she huffed at you. “it was you, wasn’t it?”
“that depends. did you cheat at poker last night? again?” 
some of the chatter throughout the cabin paused, heads turning to listen in. 
“what? n-no!” 
“then you have your answer, maddy.” you exaggerated a sigh, as though you had already won the fight and were annoyed that she came back for more. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a new camper to show around.”
chiron had already given them a tour, but luke didn’t protest when you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the window with you. your hand was warm in his as you dragged him along to the corner of the cabin where a poorly made ladder waited for you. 
“come on.” you started climbing, and only stopped to look down when you realized luke wasn’t following you. “best view of camp. trust me.”
a shiver passed through luke. trust didn’t come easy to him. he also didn’t particularly want to return to a stuffy cabin where all he would do was count reasons he did not want to be there.
 so, luke followed you. he sat down next to you on the roof and looked out at the sun shining on his new home, but he couldn't help but be slightly bitter. the gods had gotten all of you into this life of endless danger and battles and monsters, and this was all they had to offer in return: a summer camp. 
it just didn't seem fair. 
there was something else he noticed then. what was it that chiron had said? camp half-blood was supposed to be a safe haven for all demigods. 
“i don’t get it. there are only twelve cabins, but aren’t there, like, a million other gods?”
you straightened your posture then, and turned to luke with a newfound interest. 
“camp half-blood only has cabins representing the twelve olympians. apparently, they’re the only ones important enough to have children worth recognizing, and they can’t even do that half the time,” you explained, impertinence laced throughout your words. it seemed like something you could never quite get off your chest. 
every  demigod knew that the gods didn’t appreciate sarcasm. they  didn’t particularly like being called out on their bullshit, either.
you didn’t seem to care; you even rolled your eyes up at the sky, as if challenging zeus himself. 
“anyways, that’s why the hermes cabin is so crowded. it takes in campers who are unclaimed or whose parent doesn’t have a cabin at camp. like me.”
“so, who’s your godly parent?”
you fiddled with the leather cord on your neck. it held a few clay beads like the other campers, but there was one silver charm he noticed only you wore — scales, by the looks of it. you clutched onto it.
luke realized that, despite your own advice, maybe you resented having to get used to the way things worked around here, and having to hide your resentment. maybe that was worse than having to sleep on an uncomfortable bed for the rest of your life.
"nemesis. goddess of revenge."
"that's....hardcore."
you scoffed and moved on to twisting the silver ring on your index finger. "a lot of people take it that way, and i think it scares them a bit.”
“so that’s why you’re extra nice to new campers, huh?” 
“no, i was just in a good mood today.” you smirked.
“guess i was just lucky, then.”
luke couldn’t help but smile at your laugh — sharp, biting. you nudged your boot against his sneaker, which shifted you closer to him, shoulders practically touching. 
“what people don’t understand is that it's more about balance, you know? you do good things, and good things happen to you. at least, they should. you do bad things and….” you pulled out an outrageously big bag of candy, dropped it between you and luke, and winked at him. “you face the consequences.” 
“that makes sense.” luke leaned over to grab a handful of gummy bears. “like karma.”
“yeah. exactly.” 
you bit the head off a red bear, both of you chewing in silence before you added:
“by the way, i’m sorry about your friend.” you swallowed and caught luke’s gaze. 
chiron warned him that word would travel fast around camp about what happened to thalia, and luke had prepared himself for anything — anything but your reaction. there was no pity in your eyes; instead, there was a hint of rage, as though thalia had been your friend, too. 
“she deserved more.” 
luke’s eyes caught the glint of a knife strapped to your belt. he took another handful of the candy you stole, and he thought about the fire and fearlessness behind your words, and, despite everything, it felt right to be with you then and there. 
“yeah,” he finally whispered back. “she did.”
we all do. 
neither of you said those words, but the suggestion was there, and it felt like a promise. 
(ii. you hold on to every stupid, little detail)
“slow down, tiger.” 
your voice echoed throughout the arena, and if luke had been fighting a real opponent, it might have gotten him killed. instead, he just stopped mid-swing, sparing another straw dummy from losing its arm. 
“left hand,” you noted as you walked past him towards a bench. “you, my friend, are in need of a break.”
luke loosened the grip on his sword. the only time luke fought with his non-dominant hand was when he had overworked the other. he must have switched an hour ago, but judging by how heavy his arm felt, it could have very well been two.  
his curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked through. he could feel a dull pain behind his eyes, and luke was worried that if he stopped to catch his breath, he would pass out. or, even worse, have to face the reality of the shitty news he’d gotten early that day. 
“come sit with me,” you urged. “you’re exhausted, tiger.” 
luke bristled at your nickname for him. 
sure, luke loved that there was something only you called him, a secret kept between you in plain sight, but it was also a reminder that it was harder to hide behind the hero act when you were around.
everyone else at camp figured the nickname was a playful attempt at calling him strong and charismatic. the truth was that luke once told you that his favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes and that he would dream of playing sports as well as tony the tiger. for better or for worse, like most things, you wouldn’t let it go. 
case in point: if it was anybody other than you trying to get him to take a break, luke could have just brushed them off with a charming smile and continued swordfighting until his arms fell off, but in the two years since meeting you, luke had never met anyone as stubborn and convincing. like him, it seemed you were willing to fight and shed blood to get your way. luke was never really in the mood to make you bleed, even when feeling like he could burn the entire world down, so he usually gave in to your demands.  
as soon as he sat down next to you, you handed him an orange flavored energy drink — his favorite. anything other than water was hard to come by at camp without the enchanted goblets in the dining pavilion, or the right connection in the hermes cabin. he ran out of his stash the other day, but you must have noticed and gotten one of the stoll brothers to smuggle more in. 
“thanks,” luke said, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through him when your fingers brushed together briefly. 
 the two of you looked out at the sword arena, and all the straw dummies that luke had destroyed. you wait for him to take three big gulps of his drink before speaking again. 
“i guess chiron and your dad decided you weren’t ready for a quest.”
luke exhaled sharply. “how did you —”
“the only time you’d skip out on capture the flag is if something really shitty happened.” you looked down at luke’s clenched fists, and that seemed to be all the confirmation you needed. “you promised annabeth you'd be there, and it's not like you to let her down."
fuck. he had completely forgotten that tonight was annabeth's first time as team captain. this entire week, she had been prepping a winning strategy. it wasn’t like annabeth needed him to win, but luke was her big brother, and he should have been there. you were right — he had let her down. 
the realization made luke’s day go from bad to worse. 
"i told her you were helping a new camper with an emergency. she didn't believe it, but she adjusted her strategy and we still won.”
“well, thank the gods everything worked in the end,” luke grumbled. 
“don’t thank the gods,” you quipped. “thank annabeth chase for her brilliant mind, and me for covering for your sorry ass.”
when luke didn’t indulge in your usual playful banter, you moved closer to him and brushed some curls away from his eyes. your skin warmed his forehead, and the small gesture made him feel better than he had all day.
“look, i’m not going to give you some bullshit inspirational speech about how the gods don’t get to define what a hero is, or how you don’t need a quest to prove that you’re worthy of being one. we’ve each been through that before, and i have a feeling this won’t be our last time, either.”
“then why are you here?” the question came out harsher than luke had intended it to.
“because she’s trying her best to hide it, but annabeth is really hurt that you didn’t show up for the game. i figured the least you could do is suck it up, come to the campfire, and make her those signature luke castellan s’mores. you could probably use one, too, since you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” 
you were right, again. luke was exhausted, he was furious, but most of all, he was starving.  
later that night, luke sat next to annabeth and vowed to make her as many s’mores as she wanted. you’d gone to sit with the hephaestus kids, trying to convince beckendorf and nyssa to join your cabin’s post-campfire party at the beach, even though they had to work in the forges early the next morning. 
when chiron made his weekly speech, congratulating the winners of capture the flag and thanking the gods for keeping everyone safe, you and luke caught each other’s gaze from across the fire. you rolled your eyes and luke bit back a smile as you turned back to beckendorf. he noticed your knees were practically touching. did you sit that close to everyone? 
luke was looking at you for so long that the marshmallow he was roasting fell into the fire, despite annabeth’s warnings. she handed him another one. 
"you should tell her how you feel," annabeth said. "stop being a coward." 
whether it was the smell of burnt sugar, the heat of the fire, or annabeth’s comment, luke started to feel dizzy. he did his best to shake it off, asking annabeth for a play-by-play of her strategy earlier that night, but he couldn’t quite get rid of the thought of you. 
(iii. you don't care if your clothes are stained with blood)
“i just….i can’t fucking believe you, luke.”
“i don’t get why you’re so upset — you’ve never cared about quests before.”
luke was hoping to break the news to you after capture the flag. unfortunately for him, word travels fast around camp. 
annabeth had the two of you scouting the east side for the flag, while she and some other athena kids took the west. you hadn’t found anything so far, which meant that you’d spent the better part of an hour bickering over luke’s choice of companions for his quest. a choice that included charles beckendorf and chris rodriguez, and purposefully did not include you, much to your fury.  
before you could continue arguing, luke heard the sound of footsteps approaching. he looked over to you, and you already had your shield and sword at the ready. 
a few red defenders emerged from the trees. one charged at luke, but you stepped in so he could deal with the other two. one of his opponents went down fairly easily, but the other put up much more of a fight. metal clashed behind him as you kept fighting as well. you might not have been as skilled a swordfighter as luke, but he knew that you could hold your own, at least until he was finished with the person in front of him. 
luke parried his opponent’s strike, causing them to take a step closer. he was preparing to disarm them, just as he heard you yelp and stumble to the ground. it only took a millisecond of his attention, but it gave his opponent the opportunity to elbow him in the face. luke felt a crack upon impact, and pain radiated from his nose; he powered through. 
he had to finish this fight, and he had to do it fast. you needed him. 
his ears were ringing as he finally knocked over his opponent, kicking away their sword and keeping his foot on their chest. luke turned around to see you having turned the tides, the blade of your sword dangerously close to your opponent’s neck.
you locked eyes with luke, and you both understood — it was time to go. the two of you ran through the forest, as far away as you could before having to stop and catch your breath.
luke removed his helmet to get some air, and dropped his weapons. you did the same. you looked at him, brows furrowed.
“your nose.”
luke licked his lips, tasting blood. the triumph of winning that last fight overshadowed the ache of his potentially broken nose. in fact, he liked the image of a ruthless warrior emerging from the glory and gore of battle, that even though he did not bleed ichor like a god, he still had power. 
you, on the other hand, didn’t look impressed. instead, you stepped forward and offered the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the blood. 
“you don’t have to —”
“i know you think you’re a badass walking around all broken and bloody, but you shouldn’t deny your admirers your pretty face,” you teased. 
it was no secret that luke had numerous admirers around camp, a fact you loved to tease him about. he was sure that you relished in how flustered that made him. all you had to call him was pretty boy, and luke could be reduced to a blushing mess. 
it was pathetic how much power you had over him.
“besides, i wouldn’t have gotten out of that last fight if you hadn’t taught me that disarming technique earlier. i owe you. it’s what we do. we take care of each other, right?”
he couldn’t argue with that.
a few moments of silence passed as you cleaned his face. something shifted as you worked, the flirtatious grin fading away. when you pulled away, your sleeve was stained a dark crimson. 
“just tell me honestly,” you finally murmured. “why don't you want me to join your quest?” 
luke was genuinely taken aback by the softness of your voice, now devoid of its usual fire. you wouldn’t meet luke’s eyes, but being that close to you, he noticed they were slightly glazed over.
he had expected you to be angry at his decision. he expected you to yell and argue and try to change his mind. luke hadn’t expected you to be so hurt. so broken. 
he hadn’t planned on it, but luke decided to tell you the truth then.
“look, karma, if you come with me, my heart wouldn’t fully be in the quest. i’d be so caught up in….well, you.”
a pause.
“is that a bad thing?”
“not usually, no.” 
you smirked a little at that, and luke’s heart skipped a beat. it also made his decision even clearer. 
“but i need to be focused for this. i need….” he let out a deep sigh. “i need to prove myself. this is my first real chance, and i can’t fuck it up.”
you met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, your signature spark of confidence returning.  
“you won’t.”
you reached a hand up to play with his necklace. luke hadn’t noticed how close you’d gotten until your fingers started tracing over those four clay beads. it made his entire body burst into flames.
“i’ve been wanting to do something for a while. and, aphrodite save me, it might be really stupid, but —”
luke took a lucky guess as to where you were going, and crashed his lips against yours. aphrodite knows that he'd been wanting to do that for a while, too. 
he often got drunk on the adrenaline of battle, the glory of winning, but nothing was quite like the rush of kissing you for the first time. 
it was messy and urgent, both of you aware that, at any moment, you could be interrupted. your noses were bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. the metallic tang of blood lingered on luke’s tongue, but neither of you seemed to care. you even bit his lip slightly, as if you wanted more. armor sat heavy and cold between your chests, preventing you from getting closer. luke had never loathed the protective gear more. 
he made up for it by lodging one hand underneath your jaw, and snaking the other beneath the celestial bronze, beneath the cotton of your shirt, admiring how your pulse quickened under his thumb when he grazed the soft skin of your stomach. you tangled your hands into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. he groaned and felt you smirk against his lips. 
luke had kissed a few people before, sure, but never like this: like a knife to the gut, and if you pulled away, luke would surely bleed out and die. 
it wouldn’t be a hero’s death, in the traditional sense, but at least he’d die happy. 
how many heroes could claim that?
when luke ran out of air, feeling like his lungs were burning, he had to pull away. 
you glanced down at luke’s kiss-bitten lips, then back to his eyes. luke flushed under the intensity of your gaze. 
“just promise me something, tiger,” you whispered, voice hoarse. 
“anything.”
“come back alive.”
luke leaned forward and placed another kiss on your lips, this one much gentler than before.
“i promise.”
(iv. you love like a scar that won't fade)
the nightmares were getting worse. 
luke woke up in a cold sweat, taking gulps of air in an attempt to steady his breathing.
“luke.” 
your whisper did little to quell the pit of dread growing in his stomach, but it did enough to bring him back down to reality. 
he was at camp half-blood (fuck the gods of olympus), in the hermes cabin (fuck you, dad), in a bed next to yours (fuck, if he could tell you what — who — was going through his head, he would).
“i’m…i’m fine,” he murmured back, voice catching slightly on the lie. 
like clockwork, you shifted from your bed to his, slipping under the covers. it didn’t matter that it was a hot summer night, and the minute your legs touched his, he could feel himself starting to overheat. 
your thumb brushed over the thick edge of his scar, up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye. it had been a year, living with this reminder. a reminder that he had failed, just as much as his father and the olympians had failed him. 
luke tried to pretend that he didn’t come back from his quest as a shell of who he once was. after all, it was meant to be his shining moment as a demigod, meant to gain him all the glory and father’s praise he once wished for. 
what a fucking joke.
every morning, luke would crawl into a different skin. he welcomed new campers and taught sword-fighting. he laughed with chris and his other siblings and strategized with annabeth for capture the flag. he would be the easy-going, charming, skillful senior counselor who respected the gods and honored them in everything he did. 
again: a fucking joke.
nights were different, though, with you so close to him, you who could always see right through him.
every night, luke was a fourteen-year old boy again, with so much rage and resentment he didn't know what to do with it. 
of course, you were always you - a bleeding heart underneath layers of armor. you didn't care about fate, or the gods, or the titans. you cared about justice, you cared about what was right and fair. 
most of all, you cared about luke.
“you were screaming,” you told him, voice barely cutting through the soft snores and sleeptalkings of your other cabinmates. 
“sorry,” he managed. looking at you in the dull moonlight, luke noticed the deep shadows under your eyes. 
“it’s fine. you just….you scared me, tiger.” 
your hand still rested on his cheek, and for a second, luke hoped you would kiss him, but you didn’t. instead, you told him to try and get some sleep, and sank further into his bed before closing your eyes. 
for the hundredth night in a row, luke hoped you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest as you fell asleep next to him.
since coming back from his quest, luke didn’t have it in him to suggest being anything other than friends, and you didn’t push it. there had been a few....moments between you, sure, but nothing more.
luke thought you might have changed your mind, because who would want to be with a bitter, worthless, wannabe hero? then again, that voice haunting his dreams…. luke could change that. 
but, at what cost?
(v. you protect people as ruthlessly as a starving dog)
luke could hear you talking to percy jackson outside. though he couldn’t quite determine what was being said, as much as he tried.
you entered the bathroom and instantly caught luke’s eyes in the mirror. you were wearing your faded pyjama shorts with cartoon crows, and a flannel shirt that luke had a sneaking suspicion might have been his. you smiled at him before setting up at the counter, one sink between you. 
“what was that about?” luke asked after spitting out a mouthful of minty toothpaste.
“oh, nothing.” you were searching through your toiletry bag for something, and seemed to come up short. “hey, do you have any extra dental floss?”
luke threw some over to you. as you effortlessly caught it, he noticed your knuckles, bruised and bloodied.
“what happened?” 
you finished flossing and briefly examined your hands before pulling out your toothbrush. 
“it’s not a big deal,” you assured. “some ares kids were picking on percy, and then they started pushing him around, like, really pushing him around, so….” 
“....you decided to send them to the infirmary.”
you squeezed some toothpaste on your brush before continuing. “i don’t need you to lecture me about how i shouldn’t be fighting with other campers because i’ve been here longer and i should be a good role model. you know what a good role model does? not let kids beat up other kids and think the worst punishment they’ll get is no dessert for a week.”
luke watched carefully as you jammed the toothbrush in your mouth and brushed with such force, he was worried your teeth might dislodge. he knew that you would shed blood for someone you loved, and that you didn’t particularly care if you had to break rules in doing so, because you believed that what was written was not necessarily what was right. 
in fact, luke loved that about you.
no, it wasn’t the fighting that luke cared about — it was who you were fighting for. 
percy was a good kid, he really was. luke just didn’t want you getting attached. 
“i wasn’t going to lecture you. i’m guessing chiron already did?” 
you nodded and spat out what looked like a combination of toothpaste and blood. you rinsed your mouth until the water lost its pinkish hue. once you were done, luke continued his train of thought.
“i just didn’t realize you cared so much about him.”
“about percy?” 
luke could tell that he didn’t have your full attention. you were packing your stuff back up, accidentally tossing luke’s dental floss into your bag, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.
“yeah. the kid’s only been at camp for three days, and you’re already acting like his guard dog.”
you finally turned to luke and glared at him. 
“maybe. but percy’s sweet and he doesn’t seem like the type to put up with bullshit. he’s been through a lot, and annabeth seems to like him, too. as far as i’m concerned, percy’s one of us, and i’m not going to let anyone push him around.”
luke raised an eyebrow at you. “he’s sweet?”
“yeah. like, just now, he gave me some blue raspberry jelly beans as a thank you. said his mom used to work at a candy store. he also wanted me to apologize to you for him. he feels bad about beating you in sword-fighting earlier.” 
you scoffed, like you resented luke for having to apologize to him on percy’s behalf. you definitely did not appreciate that guard dog comment. luke clenched his jaw, seething over what you had just said. 
satisfied with his reaction, you gave luke that nauseating smile of yours, tilted your head towards the exit. a truce, because you never liked to fight with luke for too long, and a order, because you knew luke would always follow. 
the two of you began walking back to your cabin in the warm mid-june air. 
“i wouldn’t say he beat me,” luke huffed. “it was beginner’s luck.”
“sure, tiger. it was beginner’s luck that disarmed the best swordsman we’ve had in the last 300 years.”
you nudged luke’s shoulder with yours, but he recoiled from your touch. 
“are you trying to make me feel worse?” luke tried his best to avoid snapping at you, keeping his tone measured.
“i’m just saying that maybe the kid has natural talent and that doesn’t make you any less talented. there’s no need to get jealous.”
luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion. 
to be clear, he was not jealous. it’s just that luke had spent years of blood, sweat, and tears getting to where he was then, and percy jackson had just gotten to camp. 
and, to be even more clear, luke was not jealous of how you were already defending percy with your whole body and your whole heart, the way you did for him. 
by then, you reached the front of the hermes cabin. luke could already hear the commotion of what he would need to deal with as soon as he walked in. the burden of being head counselor, one he approached with an elastic smile that could snap at any moment. 
you tugged on luke’s sleeve before he could open the door. 
“hey. are we okay?”
luke looked down at your fingers grasping the fabric of a sweatshirt he was just realizing was yours. your nails were painted a dark red, now chipped after a week of wear. you had begged luke to paint his nails then, and once again, he gave in. he even started to like the purple you had chosen just for him, so deep it was almost black. the same color you were wearing the first time you and luke met.
he smiled at the memory — a real smile, no plastic — and then smiled back up at you.
“we’re fine, karma.” and he moved to enter the cabin. luke could hear the threat of an argument bubbling up, what sounded like a petty one over a prank gone wrong.
“wait.” you tugged at his (your) sweatshirt once more. “there’s something i wanted to talk to you about, about tomorrow night—”
“annabeth called a meeting during free time.”
“yeah, i know, it’s just —”
“she’ll run through strategy for capture the flag then.”
“one of the aphrodite senior campers asked me to the campfire,” you blurted it out, and luke decided to ignore the sound of a fight breaking out from behind the wooden door.
what in the name of hades were you talking about?
“they asked you out? like…like a….” luke didn’t even want to speak the word, scared it would make it real.
“a date,” you said casually, as if that one word didn’t rip luke’s heart in a million pieces. “i said yes.” an admission that took all those pieces and set them on fire. 
sure, in the seven years since you and luke met, you’d each talked about boys, about girls, about dating and kissing them and going further. but there was something about this one that felt different. something about the way you told him.
“but, listen, i wanted to let you know it’s not —”
“good for you,” was all luke said through gritted teeth before someone started calling his name again, louder and more urgently, and he had to duck inside.  
(vi. you taste like burning cherries and righteous anger)
your team had won capture the flag, of course. the biggest news of the evening, though: percy jackson was the son of the sea god. 
he was a forbidden child, the hero of the great prophecy. 
everything was falling into place. 
all luke should be thinking about is kronos’ plan, and his role in it, and how a world without the gods of olympus was that much more in reach.  
unfortunately, for the time being, he was so consumed by you. 
you, from across the campfire, sporting cutoff denim shorts and fresh wounds from the game earlier. you, who had wrapped your knuckles in gauze, concealing their bruising, fixed the chips in your nail polish and stacked rings on your fingers. (for the record: luke had gifted you the one on your left thumb.) you, with dark lips that whispered too closely and laughed too loudly with a child of aphrodite— jordan li.
you hadn’t so much as looked at luke since congratulating each other on another win. when chiron announced his weekly gratitude to the gods at the start of that night’s campfire, you didn’t punctuate your resentment with your usual eye-roll or biting remark. you were too busy giggling at something jordan said.
luke wanted to be the one to whisper jokes in your ear. he wanted to be the one you left lipstick stains on later, along his jaw and down his neck. he wanted to be the one who kissed the blade mark on your shoulder and the bruises on your knuckles. 
and yet, hours passed and it seemed that the thought of luke had never so much as crossed your mind. he found himself at an after hours party with a few senior campers on the beach. a lethal recipe: a poorly crafted bonfire, some contraband drinks and you in jordan li’s lap, playing with their hair and pretending luke castellan did not exist. 
meanwhile, luke had katie gardner’s full attention. she was talking to him about the strawberry season, potentially leaning a bit too close into luke’s personal space, definitely flirting with him. 
luke could have done a lot worse than the head counselor of the demeter cabin, who always smelled like fresh lavender, whose eyes were the bright green of spring grass and whose lips tasted like golden honey. 
the problem was that luke only wanted you, and his eyes kept sliding over to where you were kissing jordan’s cheek, and he accidentally called the girl he was kissing by your name, which did not make her happy. 
katie threw her drink in his face, told him to wake the fuck up, and walked away.
a chorus of gasps and chuckles erupted as luke stood there, diet coke and vodka seeping into his shirt. the commotion seemed to capture your attention, because you suddenly appeared next to luke, an empty bottle of cherry soda in your hand.
“rough night, tiger?” your voice, that nickname, made luke sick, his face twisting into a frown. you don’t seem to notice or care. instead, you switched your bottle with luke’s and took a sip.
“looks like you were having a pretty good time,” luke practically sneered. “where’s your date?” 
 “they went to bed.” you swallowed a mouthful of beer, grimacing at its bitterness. “gods, this is terrible. you and i should go on the drink run next time — we have better taste.”
“so, are you and jordan like a thing now?”
you gave luke a smile he didn’t quite understand, but made his stomach churn in ways only you could. “would that be a problem?”
“of course not.” he answered way too quickly for that to be true. 
“let’s get out of here,” you suggested. “i think katie is about this close to strangling you with a tree branch.”
luke glanced over your shoulder to where green eyes glared back at him. 
nowhere could luke find it in him to care. he wasn’t even sorry. he just shrugged, took the bottle back from you, took his first sip all night. luke almost gagged (because of course you were right, and the stoll brothers had better fake ids than they had taste) but he suppressed it. 
“no. i’m good.”
biggest lie he ever said. like there wasn’t anger caught in his throat and jealousy swelling between his ribs.
“go find jordan,” he taunted. “kiss them, show them a good time! isn’t that the reason why you got all pretty?”
you narrowed your eyes at him carefully. your nostrils were slightly flared, and luke took a bit of pride in being able to rile you up.
“look, we haven’t really talked lately, and i think we should.”
“go find jordan,” he mocked once more. “almost all the aphrodite kids are here, and i’m sure you can be quiet enough to sneak into their cabin and if you want a quick fu—”
“luke.” you clipped his name, obviously getting to the limit of your patience with him. “if you want to stay here all night and be an asshole, you’re welcome to. you should know, though, that your happy-go-lucky hero mask is starting to crack and i don’t know if you could deal with the fallout from it shattering completely.”
you leaned in close and whispered that last part, very aware of the chattering that stopped and the eyes that watched the pair of you anxiously. luke was usually good at hiding that part of himself who wanted to burn the world down. 
in ways you didn’t realize, you were right: he couldn’t risk revealing it, not now.
not yet. 
“do whatever you want, castellan,” you spat out his last name, the combination of letters foreign in your mouth.“i’m leaving.”
luke should be proud of himself. he waited a whole two seconds before following you like a stray dog. 
luke didn’t know if he’d ever felt you that enraged by him, and it horrified him. it also made him hungry for more. 
“i’m not sure that jordan would want the two of us alone together at night,” he shouted after you, words echoing into the starless sky.
“gods, enough about jordan!” luke practically ran into you with how fast you turned around to confront him. “i was helping them with that stupid aphrodite tradition!”
“you….” luke faltered, all the snark leaving his body. “what?”
luke remembered silena beauregard once explaining the rite of passage to him: to prove themselves, a child of aphrodite had to make someone fall in love with them, and then break their heart.
“why…why would you agree to do that?”
you had reached the dining area by then, and you sat on one of the steps leading to the pavilion. luke stayed a few feet away, looking at you cautiously. 
“jordan and i are already friends, and they figured a fake relationship would be the way to avoid anyone from actually getting hurt in the process.”
“you seemed so…so into it, though,” luke stammered, the memory of you in jordan’s lap, laughter bubbling from your lips, still fresh.
“it’s called acting, dumbass.” the camp didn’t rely on electricity, but there were enough torches around that luke could see you roll your eyes. “anyways, i was trying to give you a heads-up last night, but you wouldn’t listen.” you took a deep breath. “and, honestly, i didn’t push it because….i figured i should test a hypothesis.”
a hypothesis? you’d known annabeth for too long.
“what hypothesis?”
you hesitated. 
“it doesn’t matter. fuck, this was stupid,” you muttered, and without another word, stormed through the dining pavilion, a short cut to the hermes cabin. your footsteps fell heavy against the marble, and luke’s not far behind. 
“what hypothesis?” he asked again.
nothing but rushed footsteps.
“what hypothesis?” luke finally yelled.
third time was the charm, because you stopped in your tracks and faced luke once again. a fire burned in the bronze brazier, where campers were forced to offer up portions of your food to the gods at every meal. its roaring seemed to captivate you, and the flames danced across your face, illuminating all your curves and edges.
“i’m angry at the gods,” you stated. 
this caught luke off guard. from the day the two of you met, luke knew you shared that feeling. you’d gotten quieter with your rage as you’d gotten older. luke supposed he got better at hiding it himself, as well. 
“i’m angry at the gods for letting bad shit happen even if they can stop it, and for building this world in the fucked up way they did. i’m angry at your dad for the way he’s treated you, but — you, luke castellan.” you finally met luke’s eyes with a gaze so sharp, luke almost felt himself bleed. “i’m also angry at you, and not just for your bullshit tonight.” 
your admission felt like a punch to the stomach, and luke was left with no air to breathe.
did you know?
“you haven’t been the same since your quest,” you continued, words slow and deliberate, the way you spoke when you were worried your voice would shake. “and i’ve come to terms with that in the past few years, but you….you’ve never tried to ice me out before. you’ve been acting distant since december, and it’s been driving me insane. do you realize how much i miss my best …..” you swallowed the word friend. “how much i miss you?”
luke hesitated, because what could he say? i know i’ve been distant, but i’ve been busy trying to start a war between the gods. sorry babe! 
would you hate him, if you knew? 
you had to have known that, despite the distance, luke missed you. for tartarus sake, in the last two days, he’d driven himself mad at you calling a fourteen year old boy sweet, and he was about to combust at the image of you dating someone else, with little care as to the collateral damage. 
"you can't just avoid me, makeout with katie fucking gardner, and then….” you trailed off, hiding your face in your hands. whether it was to hide embarrassment or tears, luke wasn’t sure.
a smirk spread across luke’s face at the revelation that he hadn’t been the only one jealous at the bonfire that night. it lit luke up with the confidence he needed to not completely fall to his knees in front of you, beg for your forgiveness for everything he’s done.
“why do you care if i make out with katie fucking gardner?” 
as he waited for a response, luke walked towards you until your back hit one of the marble columns. 
“why do you care if i’m with jordan fucking li?” you clenched your jaw and looked right through luke. a clear indication that you wanted him to break down first; it wouldn’t be you who yielded this fight.
“because i want to be the one you’re with.” at that point, luke was so close to you that he swore he could hear your heartbeat. he reached out and played with the hem of your shorts. “why do you care if i make out with katie gardner?”
“because.” you drew in a sharp breath when luke’s fingers brushed underneath the denim, across the warm skin of your thigh. you closed your eyes. “don’t make me say it, tiger.” 
the desperation in your voice made luke want to do unholy things with you, to you. luke knew you didn’t think of him as a saint, and you never expected him to be one. the reality was that you weren’t much better, either. what was essentially an altar to the gods burned bright next to you, but it seemed neither of you had ever cared less about it than in that moment. 
luke would watch olympus fall. he would dethrone the gods and watch their glass castle shatter and find glory in a new world. in the grand scheme of things, he was willing to lose this battle.
in fact, he would have rather betrayed the titan lord himself than waste another second not kissing your lips. 
so, he kissed you, and you kissed him back with such force, such hunger, it was ungodly.
no, you certainly weren’t a saint — but you were divine, in the most brutal, intoxicating way. in the way you shuddered when luke lodged a leg between your thighs; in the way you threaded your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer; in the way the metal of your rings burned through the skin of his hip, right to the bone, which made him shudder, and you smile triumphantly against his jaw.
the more he tasted your smirk flavored by cherry soda and the ashes of nearby flames, the more he felt your feral teeth against his neck and your wicked nails digging into his shoulders, the more you tugged on his curls, the more luke thought: maybe. 
maybe you would give into your seething resentment, live up to those eye-rolls and snarky comments that got you in trouble with chiron, on the edge of hot water with the gods. maybe you would join the titan army. maybe, just maybe, this time, you would follow luke.
and yet — maybe wasn’t enough if it meant he could lose this. luke wouldn’t risk it, not until he kissed every battle scar and bruise on your body, and you did the same to his. 
“wait.”
it was the last thing luke wanted to do, but he complied. he took the opportunity to appreciate the chaos he created: your shirt in disarray, your lipstick a mess, your chest heaving and desperate to catch a breath. 
“i promised jordan that we’d keep up our charade for a week, two at the most. do you think we could keep this…” you tightened your fist around the fabric of his shirt. “a secret until then?”
luke responded by pressing his lips to yours once more, because there were definitely worse secrets to keep.
(vii. you wouldn’t hesitate to make him bleed)
luke had just left percy jackson to die.
he should be leaving camp, now, but he needed to see you one last time. 
the universe works in mysterious ways, because you were out on a run through the forest, and you crossed paths before he even had time to wonder where you were.
“hey, tiger.” you smiled as if this was a regular afternoon. the two of you would teach your afternoon activities, sneak away during dinner so luke could kiss you in that spot that made you gasp. “wanna join me? i was just wrapping up, but i could be convinced to go longer.”
for a second, he was tempted to. very tempted. 
“i don’t have much time.”
you seemed to notice luke’s sullen mood and you dropped your playful demeanor. 
luke explained: the messages from kronos in his dreams, him stealing the lightning bolt and helm of darkness to start a war between the gods and framing percy. the plan to destroy olympus that luke had pledged his life to.
percy was surprised at what luke had done, and luke could imagine that the rest of camp would be, too. luke was the golden boy of camp half-blood, everyone’s big brother. 
you, on the other hand, didn’t express any sense of shock. 
“luke.” you said his name like you weren’t quite sure it was poison. “i’m going to give you five seconds to tell me that you’re joking.”
five seconds of silence passed. you took a few steps back from luke.
“i….i should have told you sooner.”
“yeah,” you scoffed. “you should have. but, you didn’t. did it feel good, having the titan king whispering sweet nothings in your ear? all the lies about how this war is the only way to get the glory you so desperately want? it’s fucking delusional.” 
“it’s not delusional—”
“yes, it is!” you glared at him. “you’re on the wrong side of a war you made the mistake of starting.”
luke straightened his posture, thinking about how hypocritical you were being. 
“isn’t this what you’re all about? revenge, karma. your mom will probably join us, too. don’t you want to see the gods finally get what they deserve?”
“not like this. i can’t believe how desperate you are, to believe that kronos is going to make everything right. it’s pathetic,” you spat. “i’m not saying the gods don’t deserve to be taken down a notch. their fucking obsession with power and glory….it’s sick and twisted, but i don’t think your titan king is any better. i don’t think you are any better.” 
“it’s time that the gods fall. this is the only way, even if it isn’t perfect,” luke countered. his voice was firmer now as he absorbed your anger. your mother was the goddess of revenge, but you clearly didn't understand the sacrifices, pain, and blood that was required to make the world a better place.  
luke just needed to convince you.
“we’ve talked about this for years,” he continued. “nothing is balanced! there’s no justice here, for anyone.  we can build a better world where we don’t have to burn our scraps and throw ourselves at monsters to get attention. we can fight together like we always have. y/n, i love—”
“don’t,” you snapped. “don’t you fucking dare. you should have died on your quest.” your voice laced with venom. one hand gripping the knife you always kept on your belt. “that dragon should have fucking sliced through you and saved us all the trouble.”
something pricked in the back of his throat, down to his stomach.
“you don’t mean that.”
“i do,” you promised. “at least you would have died with all of us thinking you’re a hero instead of the traitor you really are.”
you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance. 
“i’m not going to fight you,” was all luke could say. he noticed your hand tremble, and you tightened the grip on your knife to prevent emotion from slipping through your invisible armor. 
in that moment, you have could slice through luke, and it would hurt less than everything you just said, less than the murderous look you were giving him, like he was just another monster you wouldn’t think twice about sending to tartarus.
luke didn’t even have a chance to unsheathe his sword before you charged at him, but he quickly had you pinned to the ground, the tip of your own knife pointed at you. he hesitated. the blade pressed harder against your cheek than he intended, enough to break the skin and let a few droplets of dark crimson escape. 
“please come with me,” he pleaded. you didn’t answer, but you did seem surprised by the softness of his voice. 
a few moments passed, the celestial bronze still between you. luke waited for you to see his way, to yield to his proposal.
you didn’t. instead, you took advantage of the situation. you wrapped your leg around his and flipped your position. in the process, you regained possession of your knife. without the hesitation that held luke back, you sliced through his cheek, deep. luke bit his lip to suppress a groan, tasting blood. your gaze set his whole body on fire as he waited for your next move. that was when you glanced down at his camp necklace, and the new clay bead added to commemorate this summer.
a turquoise trident.
“percy told me he was on his way to see you,” you realized. “what did you do?”
luke didn’t answer. he knew then that a choice ran through your head. 
and it stung, just a little, watching you sprint away through the trees in a last ditch effort to save percy’s life. 
there was a small, pathetic part of luke that wanted you to choose him, even if it meant you would have plunged the knife into his chest.
5K notes · View notes
yzzart · 5 months
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Love your Tom blyth fics an unhealthy amount!!! I’m picturing reader and Tom being all lovey dovey at the premiers but playing it off as really good bestfriends UNTIL she goes to kiss him on the cheek and in instinct he turns his head to kiss her on the lips so they just say fuck it and hard launch there and then x
"An unplanned situation."
pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader
summary: a small gesture, with a sweet intention, revealed a promising secret.
word count: 1.359!
notes: i started this request in the morning and only had the opportunity to finish it a few minutes ago, forgive me for that, anon! — i hope you like it and of course, feel free to share ideas with me!
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"Y/N, look here!"
Another request, among others, screams and countless flashes, was directed to you; being, theoretically, almost impossible to identify who had demanded your image. — There were so many voices mixing, not to mention the music in the background, but, you tried your best to pay attention to most of the cameras.
However, it wasn't anything you weren't used to; something that has already been normalized in your life.— And during the premiere of The ballad of songbirds and snake it was no different, and it was splendid; simply perfect. — Not to mention, the feeling of gratitude that grew in your chest.
Cameras and cell phones captured your every movement, your poses and the way your perfectly chosen dress was valued and highlighted on your body. — And how it matched the color palette of the film. — Everything was being recorded, at the exact moment, posted and commented on all social networks.
You had the opportunity to meet, talk and take photos with some of the cast. — It was so pleasant, the company and unity that everyone developed during the filming of the film was inexplicable and so adorable; you were grateful to have worked with so many talented people. — There were some people who were absent, until now, in your eyes, but you would definitely meet them again on the carpet.
And, of course, your eyes roamed the decorated room, matching the elements of the film, and crowded in search of a specific person. — It wasn't exaggerated words to say that you were starting to feel uncomfortable because he was missed; and the cameras recorded it. — Silent questions, which would be written, formed in the minds of the presenters and photographers.
Your boyfriend had yet to appear on the red carpet; perhaps he is giving a quick and curious interview or greeting someone. — That's what was going on in your head.
You and Tom had a secret relationship, ever since you met behind the scenes, in front of the world and all the cameras that may exist in it; something that was so risky and at the same time adventurous. — And that, as incredible as it might seem, you knew how to disguise it in front of your fans; even though they gradually became suspicious with comments, interactions and behind-the-scenes photos.
They were either smart or you and Tom were too far over the line. — This question was not important or essential for the moment. — And you considered each other best friends for interviews or responses to comments; you tried your best.
And so, Rachel sent countless screenshots of tweets, which talked about or mentioned the relationship between you and Tom, to you. — It's impossible to deny how funny it was.
Persisting in continuing to look for him and for a few seconds, your eyes meet his blue and so charming irises. — Its shade of blue was a magnificent and beautiful combination; something you would never get tired of admiring. —And there was no other thing, or anyone, that could take his eyes off you.
As if the only thing that mattered at that moment was you. — And everything around him simply disappeared.
"There you are!" — Tom walked towards you, easily as there weren't so many people on the carpet, and an enthusiastic smile forming on his lips; also accompanied by cameras and intense flashes. — "And so beautiful!"
Holding a part of your long and dazzling dress so as not to hinder your steps, you met him, and without wasting any time, hugged him. — A common gesture, and not so different or strange, for the spectators; so, you thought. — Tom's arms went around your waist, holding your protectively for a little while, while your arms positioned themselves around his neck.
Tom's fragrance, which you liked so much, filled your nose; it felt so good, and you felt your eyes weaken, contaminated by it. — And the british man was aware of that.
"You look perfect, always." — The older man distanced himself, just a little, and brought his face closer to your ear, wanting only you to hear. — "The most beautiful woman that has ever crossed my eyes." — The lenses probably captured a reddish pigmentation on your cheeks and it was not part of your makeup.
You placed one of your hands on his chest, and looking directly into his eyes; that shone at you, and it wasn't just because of the influence of the lights in your direction. — Tom's gaze was sincere, and passionate, intensely fascinating you. — He conveyed what he felt most with just his eyes.
And that was one of the facts about him that you were passionate about and recognized very well.
"Oh, shut up!" — Raising your hand and resting it a little away from your mouth, you laughed a little embarrassed and looked back at the cameras; remembering that they remained there and you knew that later you would see your interaction with Tom on some social media.
Again, a thing and situation you were used to.
"Look at that camera!" — A voice mingled among others, which requested the same request, asking you to take some photos together; something that would feed news, fans and press.
At no point, minute or second, did you and Tom remain distant or apart from each other; always a few steps close, hugging each other for photos and certain looks, completely indiscreet. — Even during brief interviews, as Blyth mentioned you or your character's work, you were silently watching. — One of the interviewers even commented on how cute she thought it was.
Tom's hand was on your waist, holding and almost covering you, making a quick caress in a few seconds and one of your hands was still resting on his chest; and you continued, of course, to be the focus of the cameras.
Quickly, with the intention of changing your pose and trying something new and also to take advantage of the fact that Blyth's face was almost close to yours, you decide to place your pigmented lips on his cheeks. — Such a cute and friendly gesture, and so common. —But, automatically and hastily, Tom turned his face away at the same time, without having in mind what you were, in fact, planning. — God, it was a shock; an absurd and completely intense shock.
For the first time that night, in that place and on those cameras, your lips touched Tom's lips. — It was very quick, good and surprising; and that definitely left a cold, freezing air in your belly accompanied by a desperate feeling in your mind. — Rumor has it that smoke was coming out of his head. — It was a peck, a quick and simple kiss.
When you separated, hurriedly, your eyes met Tom's once again; who were a little wide-eyed, expressing surprise. — Looking for something to say or do, just like you. — And you watched his lips curve into an almost smile, as if he was trapping him.
Shouts of enthusiasm and some possible whistles echoed throughout the immense place, along with some looks and expressions of surprise at what had happened. — And some people were worried if they had recorded the exact moment, of course. — Your fans were probably commenting frantically about what happened.
You really didn't know what to do but at no point did you move away from your boyfriend — now, official to the public — and keep your hand on his chest; as if it were, in fact, planned.
"A nice way to reveal it, huh?" — Tom laughed, relaxed and without a feeling of discomfort or uneasiness, he still had his hand on your waist; and he still squeezed you, then leaving you with another caress. — "I think." — He didn't look at the cameras, his orbits focused only on you.
They have always focused on you, regardless of what is actually happening; and that will never change.
"A nice way to reveal." — You repeated your words, but, as an affirmation and certainty; maybe, seeing how relieved Tom was, and not showing some kind of distress, your chest calmed down and you felt safe.
And soon, you and Tom became one of the most talked about topics on social media.
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smoft-demons · 2 months
Text
MC falls asleep on him
_______
Lucifer:
‘…?!’ Is what Lucifer is thinking as your head drops onto his shoulder.
You had cajoled him into doing some of his constant paperwork in a bigger chair for a change. So there’s room for you to sit next to him! You’re not even demanding his attention, or the spare time that he doesn’t have, you’re being very considerate, you just wanted sit next to him, that’s all, you had promised!
Lucifer caved, because he is very soft for his human—even though he’s loathe to look like it. You were in fact being considerate… so he had brought a stack of relatively low-importance papers out of his office, into the living room.
You were sitting on a couch together, him with his stack of administrative papers and you with a homework assignment. You finished yours quickly, so you ended up playing a game on your DDD as you lean against him.
He checks on you periodically out of the corner of his eye. He’s relaxed though—as relaxed as Lucifer gets. This is peaceful. Meditative, almost. He’s happy. All his brothers are elsewhere, his tasks are not too overwhelming, he gets to have a nice, calming afternoon sitting in companionable silence with his favourite housemate…
A sudden weight falling on him jolts him out of his trance. Your cheekbone thunks against his shoulder. He blinks. Processing.
In quick succession, his brain goes like ‘..?!’ then ‘it is mid-afternoon why are you sleeping’ and ‘have we been overworking our human?’ and ‘aww. MC really does trust me that much.’
He adjusts the way you’re situated so you’re more comfortable as he finishes up the last of his work. When he’s done, he takes a moment to just observe. To appreciate your trust in him. Also, to congratulate himself again for his part in the creation of the exchange program, because it brought you into his life.
(He tries to ignore the stubborn twinge of nostalgic heartache he feels as well. You’re reminding him so much of Belphie, from back when his relationship with him was good. He’d never admit it, but he misses having his babiest brother fall asleep on him like this.)
Lucifer gathers up his papers, then picks you up, being careful not to jostle you too much. Let no one ever say he doesn’t take good care of his human. He carries you to your room to put you to bed. Clearly you need the extra sleep. Or… well, he tries to. You’re holding onto him pretty insistently.
He expects himself to feel irritated, but… no. He can’t help but feel a little smug, actually. It’s cute, you’re cute, you don’t seem to want him to leave you. So… fine. He’ll oblige. For a short break.
(An hour or two later, you’ll wake up to the smells and sounds of dinner being prepared. You’re… not under your blanket? No, you’re covered by Lucifer’s ridiculously long coat. It’s warm, soft. It smells like him. In this moment, it’s impossible to miss how loved you are.)
_______
Mammon:
The first time this happened (in your room, watching movies without any of his brothers for once), Mammon was stunned. He had frozen up, stuttered some nonsense to no one in particular, then quickly slapped his free hand over his mouth as he realized he would wake you if he didn’t immediately chill out.
Now though? You’ve been in his life for a while. He’s your oldest friend here. Those movie nights had become a habit, even though it remained rare to have one with no one else joining in. So this has happened a lot, and he’s gotten used to it. He doesn’t react so outwardly anymore, not unless one of his brothers show up to make fun of him.
If they try it, Mammon is rather aggressive about shushing them. At first, because he hated to be so obvious about how much he cares about you, but now that he’s a bit more used to it, it’s because he doesn’t want them to disturb you. He feels like he’s protecting you by keeping his brothers from waking you up. Sometimes, he’s the one who wakes you up by telling them to shut up just a bit too loudly, or silently gesturing for them to be quiet or go away a little too enthusiastically.
His brothers roast him even more for that. Poor thing.
Time and time again, you pass out on his shoulder. During a movie, mid relaxed hangouts with various groups of the brothers, in the rare times when hanging out solo with Mammon is a relaxing low-energy affair, while studying, during the lunch break at school, even in class sometimes. His heart warms, and he can’t help but smile at the familiar feel of you conked out on his shoulder again. He doesn’t even mind if you snore.
Mammon is usually such a loud, high energy person. Neither you nor him finds anything wrong with that of course, it’s one of many lovable things about him. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t like being able to just chill with you sometimes though. It’s nice.
Eventually, he gets familiar enough with this that he’s willing to move you around to get more comfortable. With time, he learns exactly what ways he can move you without disturbing you. So most of the time when you fall asleep on him, you wake up in some other position. Sitting in his lap, lying down with a sleeping Mammon wrapped around you, being carried to another room, propped up against his side in your next class, being hugged like a teddy bear in his room, etc etc.
He never questions why you’re tired. He just lets you pass out on him. He wants you to be in the best possible condition, and he will happily take all the time with you he can get. He takes this to mean that you also want all the time with him that you can get, that you would rather stay with him than go to bed when you’re tired because you would rather not be separated from him. Just like how he feels about you. Why else would he be in your room as often as he is?
You trusting him enough to sleep on him all the time makes him feel like he’s being a good guardian demon, like he’s as precious to you as you are to him.
He’s a fan of all the free cuddles he gets out of this, too.
_______
Levi:
You’re in Levi’s room with him, set up very comfortably as you’re marathoning an anime together. You’ve been at it for hours though, you’re already a bit sleep deprived, and you’ve seen this one a few times already. You can’t stop yourself from nodding off. Your head drops onto his shoulder.
Levi freaks out.
“afgshrjdxssh—WH-!” He flails. You immediately snap awake again. “You—uhh-!” He shoves you away in a panic, then immediately changes his mind, pulling you back in, then freezes for a moment before letting go of you to flap his hands frantically. “Nonono stay—wait no, you don’t want to—I mean, you don’t have to—I mean, get o—uhh! Um! I mean! S-stay if you want, but I don’t care if you don’t want to—!”
You blink slowly at him a couple times. Trying to parse his contradictory sputtering. You’re tired, you’re not working at full brain power. You figure he means something along the lines of: ‘ooo I’m Levi, I have bad self esteem and I can’t believe you want to touch me, but I want you to, but I can’t say that because I cope with feeling unlovable by acting all tsundere because that way I feel less pathetic, love you though!’
You know. Standard Levi stuff. You love him so much—and you’d be very happy if he started therapy.
For now though, you just grab his arm and pull him closer to you again. You bury your face in his shoulder. This time, it’s unmistakably a deliberate move. Wordlessly telling him that you do in fact love him enough to want to touch him.
It’s like his body just took a screenshot! He keysmashes out loud.
Slowly, he calms down. He puts one hesitant arm around you. You don’t move. He can’t tell if you’re already asleep again or just pretending to be, but either way you seem to be comfortable.
Soon enough, he finds himself smiling like an absolute dork. This… is actually very effective reassurance. He feels all warm and fuzzy and loved. He likes holding you.
It’s reminding him of TSL fluff fics he’s read where absolutely nothing happens except Henry and the Lord of Shadows cuddle. A way for him to experience affection vicariously through a character he relates to and a character he loves, when he really wants hugs himself but can’t have any.
He squeezes you softly as his heart warms. He squishes his cheek against the side of your head.
“I love my Henry..!” Levi mumbles to himself, under his breath. He has no way of knowing if you heard that, which is why he said it out loud. It’ll be a while until he gets the nerve to say it when he knows you can hear.
_______
Satan:
He is HONOURED, he is OVERJOYED, he is MELTING, he is… very carefully remaining perfectly chill.
It’s the same type of happiness as when a cat decides to sit on you out of nowhere. He’s been chosen!
He is SO happy you trust him so much!
He had been reading, as usual. You had been sitting next to him, as usual. You had gotten tired, and without a moment of hesitation you had buried your face in his shoulder and fallen asleep.
He carefully contains all the joy this gives him, so he doesn’t disturb you. He wraps an arm around you, plants a soft kiss on your head, and goes right back to reading.
If you sleep fitfully, he’ll stroke your hair to soothe you.
When you wake up, he’ll ask if you had a nice nap. He won’t make any moves to make you get off him. If you choose to anyway, he won’t react outwardly, because he doesn’t want to discourage you falling asleep on him again. He wants this to happen lots more! So he’ll just smile at you and go back to his book.
But if you don’t choose to leave, he’ll shift you entirely into his lap to make you both more comfortable. He can hug you properly like this. If he’s sure you’ll be comfortable with it, he’ll kiss your forehead before going back to his book. He’s very happy to keep you there.
_______
Asmo:
Predictably, Asmo’s gonna take ALL the pictures of this!
A few in which he doesn’t look at the camera, as if they were candid shots. Some where he’s posing cutely, a couple where he’s kissing your head, a bunch of various angles of your sleeping face. What can he say, he thinks the way your cheek squishes against his collarbone is just precious.
A bit less predictably, he posts none on devilgram. No, these are just for him.
…maybe the best ones are for the group chat. He’s gotta show off his cute human to someone, it may as well be to his brothers. They’ll appreciate you properly. He’ll share after you’ve woken up, though. He doesn’t want anyone barging in to disturb you.
He’ll share the pictures with you as well if you ask, of course! What he will NOT do, however, is risk you deleting them! He’ll back them up first. He’ll store them in a hidden album if you’re shy about them, but he’s not deleting them!
Well, unless you’re genuinely uncomfortable. Then, okay fine. But please let him keep at least one? You’re so cute!
He’ll be more affectionate over the following days. Trying to be next to you all the time, inviting you to his room at every opportunity, pulling you to sit next to him. All because he hopes you’ll fall asleep on him again. Or just lean on him like that, and let him cuddle you. Please, he’d be SO happy!
_______
Beel:
Beel is so used to this behaviour. Belphie falls asleep on him all the time. He’d be the most chill about it.
As if it’s routine, he’ll secure you in your position with his arm, so you can’t fall and get hurt. He’ll rub your back and hum softly to you to help you relax if you don’t seem to be sleeping well. Beel is warm and soft and big and comfy, like the giant teddy bear he is at heart. He’s considerate and gentle. He’s always really sweet to you, and that doesn’t change one bit even when you’re unconscious.
When he inevitably gets too hungry to stay where he is, he’ll just take you to the kitchen with him. It’s no problem, he does this with Belphie all the time. It doesn’t matter how much you weigh, Beel can carry you easily. He thinks nothing of it.
He can cook one handed too if he needs to. He’s got practice—also because of Belphie. He’s chilling, he’s comfortable, there’s nothing unusual about this at all to him.
If the kitchen noises wake you up, he’ll apologize and share his food with you. He’ll tell you outright that he’s happy to let you use him as a pillow whenever you want.
(Also, he makes a mental note to drop you off with Belphie instead of bringing you along to the kitchen and risking waking you up again next time)
If it doesn’t wake you up, no problem! That’s what he expected. He just carries you around as he does what he needs to do around the house. He’ll put you to bed properly if he needs to go outside of course, but otherwise he’s bringing you with him.
When you wake up, he’ll put you down if you somehow indicate that’s what you want. If you don’t though, he just… won’t. He likes holding you. He’d do it so often if he thought you’d like him to.
_______
Belphie:
…Welp. The table has turned, hasn’t it.
People don’t fall asleep on Belphie while he’s awake too often! He’s not usually conscious to experience this! He likes it though. He thinks you’re being so cute.
9 times out of 10, Belphie will take this as his cue to cuddle up to you and join you in sleep. He can always be tempted into a nap. He’d make sure this the comfiest, nicest, most restful nap you’ve ever taken. He’d make sure you feel so safe and loved. You will NOT be disturbed on his watch.
On the rare tenth time, when Belphie isn’t tired, he might whine about being trapped. When one of his brothers points out that he can move you very easily, he glares at them. He maintains that it’s illegal to move when you’ve been chosen as someone’s pillow. When it’s pointed out that he’s perfectly capable of waking you if he really wants to get up, he looks affronted. He would NOT do that, he says. Do they think he’s completely heartless, he asks.
Well. He wouldn’t do that unless he’s feeling particularly bratty. He’d totally do it to any of his brothers… but he’s soft with you. He loves you. Be so for real, do you think he’d really ever pass up an opportunity to cuddle you? No way. He can go shopping later.
He won’t tell you that though. He’ll bitch about it to your face, complaining until you agree to go shopping with him next time, all the while refusing to let go of you.
He already was not hesitating to fall asleep on you, but he somehow gets more shameless and constant about it. Since you’re doing it too, it’s your thing now. You’d be a hypocrite to complain now.
Yeah, he couldn’t be happier about this. Please sleep on him all the time. Enable him even more! He’ll make sure you won’t regret it.
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lqvesoph · 23 days
Text
She’s WHOSE daughter??? || LN4
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lando norris x webber!reader
summary: Quali day in Melbourne also means some secrets are being spilled…
part 1 | part 2 | part 4 | part 5
masterlist | taglist
Part 3
The flight to Melbourne was only about three hours. Three hours that Daniel spent sleeping while Lando and you talked about god and the world.
He told you a lot about his family, his parents and siblings and his two little nieces. Your heart swelled a little at the pictures of him holding the two girls on vacation last summer.
You glanced over at Daniel and then turned your gaze to the British boy next to you.
"So, I was thinking-"
"So, about today morning-"
The two of you started at the same time, chuckling and looking down. "You go first", you quickly said, wanting to hear what Lando had to say first.
"About this morning, I… I really like you. I feel like I know you, which is pretty strange considering the fact we haven’t known each other that long. But I wanna get to know you more because… I really like you", he spoke, shyly glancing at you, only to find you smiling at him.
"I would love that, Lando", you smiled, reaching to grab his hand and interwind your fingers. "Can we please keep it low when people are around though? Because I really need to tell Oscar first before he finds out from stupid gossip pages and I don’t think his home race is the place to tell him that I’m dating his teammate", you chuckled at the last sentence.
Lando nodded in understanding and pulled your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles lightly. "That’s totally fine by me", he smiled, dropping your interlaced hands back into your lap.
*~*~*~*~*~*
"What on earth are you doing here??", your best friend called when he spotted you lingering in the back of the Mclaren garage. He quickly signaled his engineer that he’d be back shortly before walking over to you.
"You’re not even wearing any sort of Red Bull colour", Oscar stated after he looked you over once, mustering the white summer dress and lack of Red Bull hat.
"C’mon, I can’t go ‘round parading Red Bull as an Australian at the Australian Grand Prix, especially not when my best friend who’s also Australian drives for a different team", you chuckled, your eyes finding Lando’s for a second who still stood in front of the computer, looking at data along with his engineer. He sent you one of his adorable little smiles before shifting his attention back to work.
"I think this is honestly the first time you’ve ever stood inside here for more than 5 seconds and without me forcing you", Oscar chuckled.
Before Oscar could drag you to his side of the garage, Lando showed up behind him, a wide grin on his face.
"And who do we have here, Red Bull’s princess in papaya", he smirked. Your smile immediately brightening at the sound of his voice. "Well we’re not as far as me actually being IN papaya, I’m colour neutral today", you replied, making Lando raise his eyebrows before pulling his Mclaren hat off and pushing it down on your hair in a quick motion.
"Heyy!", you protested with a giggle and tried to slap his arm away. "That looks way better, wouldn’t you say Oscar?", the brit laughed and turned to his teammate, whose invisible question mark was getting bigger and bigger.
Thankfully his race engineer called him back before he could pose any of his million questions. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t still keep his eyes on the two of you, catching the gentle squeeze Lando gave your hand, that held on longer than necessary.
📍Melbourne, Australia
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tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri, danielricciardo, ybsf
yn.adams: Feels great to be back in Australia and especially at Albert Park!! Quali up next🏎️
comments:
landonorris: Loads of papaya right here🧡
> landonorris: Even a papaya sunset🤭
> fan: How did he convert her over to McLaren???
> fan: That d must me hella good if she’s willing to change teams…
oscarpiastri: How am I only posted once???
> fan: Oscar asking the important questions!!
> fan: Fr tho how did she post Lando 3x??
danielricciardo: I’m sorry, is that papaya I see there??
kellypiquet: You look absolutely gorgeous!!
> yn.adams: Luv uuuu
ybsf: THE BEACH PICTURE!!
liked by landonorris
fan: That’s a lot of papaya for you, miss🤨
fan: Posting Lando 3x in one post…
fan: Daniel with the truck LMAOOO
fan: Not a single photo from the Red Bull/RB garange🫣
> fan: Lando be turning her into a Mclaren fan
load more comments…
*~**~*
Your heart swelled with pride when you saw Lando jump up to P4 on the leader board, your smile just slightly getting bigger. You clapped your hands a few times, celebrating Max’s pole with the other crew members but secretly also Lando’s good starting position for the race tomorrow.
You quietly hushed out of the garage to walk down the paddock to Mclaren, waiting for Lando to arrive.
"Heyy!", he called with a laugh. You giggled and opened your arms for him. His curls were slightly damp from the sweat but you pushed your fingers through them anyway as his arms wrapped around your waist.
"I’m proud of you!", you muttered for only him to hear and felt him smile and squeezed your hip. "Thank you", he smiled and pulled back.
"You wanna come inside?", Lando then asked, nodding towards the papaya hospitality. You hesitated for a second but nodded and resisted the urge to grab the driver’s hand.
He smiled for a few pictures and waved at fans before opening the door for you.
"Lando, debrief is at 6", Jon reminded Lando before said boy grabbed your hand and dragged you towards his driver room.
He pushed the door shut behind you and unzipped his orange race suit, the black fireproof coming to show.
"These are so hot", you muttered, letting your intrusive thoughts take over as you trailed your fingers along his chest. Lando chuckled and pulled you closer by the waist. "You wanna take ‘em off?", he joked teasingly but the glint in his eyes told you he really wouldn’t mind if you did.
You chuckled and pulled his lips on yours, his tongue finding its way into your mouth shortly after. Lando pushed you back until the back of your knees hit the couch and he let you down on his carefully, all while letting his hands roam up and down your body.
You whined when he sucked the gentle skin on your neck, his hand coming to rest on the back of your thigh. You put your hands on either side of his face and pulled him back up so your lips could touch again.
"Lando, have you seen- oh wow, that’s why you didn’t come to congratulate me!"
The door opened, making you push Lando away from you and scrambling up to sit straight on the couch.
Oscar stood in the doorway, putting his hands on his hips. "Respect, mate. I didn’t think you’d be brave enough", he said, turning his gaze to Lando.
You squeezed your eyes shut, praying that your best friend would keep his mouth shut.
"Huh?", Lando asked, a confused expression gracing his face. "Just because Mark has always been against his daughter dating drivers, I mean I tried when I first met her but respect mate", Oscar kept talking, now crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Mark?", Lando questioned, his confusion growing as the seconds passed. You silently begged Oscar to finally quit talking but he didn’t catch on.
"Mark, her dad? Mark Webber", Oscar explained, now confused as well.
"Your dad is Mark Webber?", Lando called, turning his head to you.
Just then your phone chimed with a new message.
dad: What’s going on with you and Lando?
taglist
please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist or text me if you want to be taken off x
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Text
I Like How You Are With Me - LN
Summary: Lando wants to keep his relationship out of the public eye for now. So he only sees his girlfriend between races, but he enjoys every second with her. Going home to her this time, he realises how badly he wants to make sure he doesn't lose her.
No part 2 requests please
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Lando sighs as he gets off the jet and jogs down the steps to the awaiting car on the tarmac. Y/n is waiting for him in the passenger seat, but as soon as she sees him getting out. She climbs out and moves moving to hug him.
"Hey." Y/n greets softly as Lando smiles and leans down kissing her softly. "How was the flight?"
"It was good. How has everything been over here?" He asks making her look at him for a moment.
"Pretty good. Not quite the excitement of a race. But I managed to end up needing rescued at the gym by some guy when I tried to lift some weights without a spotter." Y/n smiles shyly since Lando had been on her about having a spotter and she insisted she was fine without one.
"See why it's important to have a spotter?" Lando states in his own way of saying I told you so as they throw his bags into the boot, moving to get into the car with Lando climbing into the driver's seat.
"It never happened before...I think the guy who saved me was more scared than I was." Y/n murmurs then sighing and smiling. "So anyway, what do you want to do now you're back? We can...rest...or you can rest and I can keep myself busy, or we could go on a walk. You know that random field in the estate. They've put little ponies there and one of my neighbours told me that the owner is find with people feeding them-or we could make some plans with Max and P? Golf! We could go play golf."
There's some element of amusement there. Y/n had never played anything beyond mini golf before she started dating Lando and that much is obvious in the way that she plays golf. Lando has tried to help her every time, but the improvement is miniscule.
"I'll be seeing Max tomorrow. For now...I think McDonalds and rest." Lando grins making her smile. "We can have a cheat day."
"Cheat day? I eat McDonald's like every other day." Y/n snorts earning a laugh. "I just hit the gym daily for like 2 hours so I don't look like it. My cholesterol is probably like ready to flatline me any day now."
"Shut up." Lando laughs shaking his head at her.
-
Lando loves the domestic bliss of his relationship with y/n. She gives him a proper home to come back to. He really believes it's endgame with them.
"Breakfast!" Y/n beams with pride while Lando looks at the banquet style breakfast. "And before you panic about me ruining your super strict, super healthy diet. Just pick at bits. I told the nursery across the road that I would have some food for their picnic. So leftovers will not be wasted."
"What if I wanted to eat it all?" Lando teases earning a deadpanned look before he sighs moving to hug her back. "Alright, tell me what's what."
Y/n begins telling him what is her favourite of what she made, from some banana pancakes to a mini English breakfast. Then Lando decides to piece things together while y/n picks at a food, actually treating it a bit like a buffet.
"So what do you want to do?" Y/n asks as she sits down at the island with him only to smile as he pulls the chair closer and pulls her legs over his lap.
"Business meeting on the golf course with Max. But P is busy, so if you don't want to come then that's ok." Lando smiles knowing that usually P and y/n will keep each other entertained while Max and Lando speak business for Quadrant.
"No. I want to come." Y/n smiles pausing to pop a piece of bacon into her mouth then speaking again. "I need to improve my game if I'm ever going to own you on the green. You two can get into all the Quadrant stuff and I'll work on my swing."
"That sounds like a good plan to me." Lando nods making her grin. "I'm going to be judging your game though."
"You always do." Y/n hums then yawning a little.
-
Lando watches trying to avoid a full grimace as he watched y/n position herself.
"Do you think she'll throw the club again?" Max asks from beside him since on more than one occasion, y/n has accidentally let the club slip out her hand and almost taken both Max and Lando out.
"Shh." Lando mumbles focusing on her.
Only the wind ruins the silence before y/n finally swings and the club swooping through the air and hits the ball with a popping down.
"Holy shit." Max whispers as they watch probably the best hit of the day. Lando slaps his hand on Max's stomach in shock as they wait for it to land and when it does, it's a hell of a lot closer than either of Max or Lando's balls.
Both the men shoot forward cheering and Lando begins tossing y/n around as she squeals in excitement over her success.
"Baby, that was amazing...I think you just beat both of us by a mile." Lando states then looking at Max as a thought hits him. "Have you two been practicing or something without me here?"
"No." Y/n giggles before pecking his lips. "But it was really good?"
"Yes."
"Yey!" Y/n beams clapping her hands. "And I managed no injuries."
Lando hums before they move to continue.
It doesn't take long for them to discover that it turns out that the one hit was all she had in her for good swings that day and the rest consisted of her missing, getting frustrated and eventually kicking the ball into the hole.
"Yey! We're done. Let's go eat." Y/n smiles since Lando and Max had managed to get their balls in the hole quite a while ago.
"Still marriage material?" Max jokes as y/n collects their balls from the hole while they sit at the golf cart.
"Oh yeah." Lando confirms making Max pull a face and nod in kudos.
After leaving the golf course and heading for food the two finally return back to y/n's apartment since Lando generally just stays there when he's back in the UK.
"Y/n..." Lando mumbles as she pulls off the golf outfit.
"Lando..." Y/n teases before she mumbles an apology. "Go on."
"Do you hate me for hiding the relationship?"
Y/n seems to almost choke on her breath and cough a little before frowning.
"Sorry. Did you just ask if I hate you?"
"Well-not hate me, but does it annoy you?"
Y/n sighs pulling on a t-shirt to make sure that she's not completely naked while she talks to him since this is clearly a serious conversation.
"Baby...do you know how happy I am with you? I love you and you could keep me away from all public appearances and not even mention you're in a relationship. So long as you aren't cheating on me, I'm perfectly content on how things are. I promise you." Y/n smiles while Lando nods. "Where's this came from?"
"I've just been thinking. I love coming back and being...normal with you but...I don't want things that...I would get worried about in your position to become things that you might worry about." Lando explains hating how messily he worded it.
"Lando, listen to me ok?" Y/n smiles looking at him smile. "I'm not worried. I'm not going to be worried unless you give me reason and so long as you don't change from how things are right now. Then you won't give me reason."
Lando smiles not realising how much he needed the reassurance. Whatever he's done to make sure she feels secure in their relationship, he clearly need to make sure he keeps it up. Even if he doesn't know what it is...he'll just have to not change anything.
"You know...I heard you tell Max that I'm marriage material even after my embarrassing attempt at golf." Y/n states poking his rib while he begins to flush. "You're marriage material too, even if that's not something we need to worry ourselves about for quite a while. But I'm glad we're on the same page."
"Me too."
Y/n smiles hugging Lando softly before he leans forward kissing her with his hands moving down to nudge under her t-shirt and grab her arse, pulling her closer against himself.
"When do you leave again?"
"You've got me for a few more days...sick of me already?" Lando teases while she grins.
"No, just deciding how much more we can fit into that time around whatever work you need to do."
"No work. Just you and me...maybe a visit to my family so I don't feel guilty and so they don't chew on my ear for being back and not seeing them." Lando grins earning a nod. "But we've got plenty of time for me to see them."
"And what are we doing with the rest of that time?"
"First? I think I'm going to take advantage of the fact you're only wearing a t-shirt. Then after that, I'll think of something." Lando hums leaning down and just stopping short of kissing her as he speaks. "Does that sound ok?"
"That sounds perfect." Y/n confirms then laughing when he scoops her up and hikes her legs up around his waist, finding herself laid on the bed underneath him in seconds.
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 8 months
Text
How to train your pet Human pt.2 (Yandere!Alien X GN!Reader)
part 1, part 3
CW: Abduction, imprisonment, yandere themes, death, pet/owner relationship, tickle torture, humiliation, sexual themes, angst
"There they are~" Kirtch bent to pick (Reader) up, lifting them easily like a child and carrying them with one hand under their butt. (Reader's) face scrunched up in embarrassment. They were wearing an ugly shirt, both baggy and synched tightly, flowy around the body but locked in place like a neck corset at the top and wrists. When Kirtch first presented the tacky gift, (Reader) had ran to hide, forcing Kirtch to wrestle the outfit onto them.
With all of the unnecessary buttons and ties, (Reader) was incapable of taking it off themselves, and was now sulking.
"I have a lot of duties today that cannot be completed in my office, so I thought you might enjoy coming with me so you don't have to be couped up alone." Kirtch gently knocked his forehead into (Reader's).
'Escape chance, escape chance, escape chance-' "Yeah, that sounds nice." (Reader) tried to contain their excitement, consciously aware of their heart beating loudly in their chest.
"Wonderful! I've packed a couple of toys to keep you occupied if you get bored, as well as snacks." He replied happily, seeming so pleased with himself as he briskly walked down the hall from his bedroom towards the main hall. The two passed by many other aliens walking up and down the corridors, none of whom seemed to be the same species as Kirtch. Everyone wore the same cloak, standing them out from the creatures in the shopping district, a uniform slightly lighter in color than Kirtch's. Most would pause while walking to rub a hand over where their noses should have been, and Kirtch would raise a hand in response.
"What are they doing?" (Reader) whispered.
"It is a sign of respect. I am their superior, so if they are not in a rush to get somewhere they are greeting me."
Fear tickled (Reader's) spine. "Are you guys in the military?"
Kirtch laughed, a high pitch clicking sound that almost sounded like a broken music box. "No. I'm just an upper level leader in our trading company."
They arrived in front of a decorated wall, and Kirtch squeezed (Reader) a little while smiling. "Now this is a very important meeting, I need you to be as quiet as possible, okay?"
(Reader) huffed. "I'm not a child."
"I know you aren't. You're a very sweet pet, who is most definitely a grown adult human."
They felt humiliated. It had been almost a month since they were bought by Kirtch, and they did everything in their power to not anger him or appear as though they needed "release". (Reader) constantly watched and waited for the perfect escape attempt, while fighting off Kirtch's affections in as non threatening a way as possible. Like they were emulating a cat. (Reader's) skin burned, but they held back their tongue.
The wall opened, revealing a board room (at least that's what (Reader) assumed it was), a bare room only decorated with a long table surrounded by stools. Kirtch sat (Reader) on the floor and pulled out a sack from the inside of his cloak. While they didn't want to immediately act the part of a good pet, (Reader) was curious as to what was in the bag. The first thing they pulled out, however, was a taxidermied cat. (Reader's) eyes widened, and they couldn't contain their anxiety, shaking as they stared into the cat's glass eyes. Was this some kind of threat?
"Do you like it? I've been meaning to buy you more human toys, so I thought you would appreciate a stuffed animal." Realizing that the 'gift' was not malicious, the nervousness immediately dissolved into mental fatigue.
"Oh. I get it. Stuffed animal. Yeah." They put the animal back in the bag, hoping Kirtch didn't think their exhausted smile was permission to buy more dead bodies.
More aliens entered the room, greeting Kirtch before taking their seats. (Reader) couldn't understand what the meeting was about, since they were all speaking in Kirtch's native tongue, but their voices and faces were tense. The meeting went on for well over an hour, but (Reader) found it surprisingly entertaining, dubbing over their conversation inside their mind like Mystery Science Theater, chuckling with how wild their hand movements were. It was very human of them.
(Reader) fucked up, accidently snorting at one of the angrier aliens. Although they didn't understand the language, one of his sentences sounded awfully like "Pineapple farts", and with how intense his face was, it made it seem like he was describing how his ass felt. Their sound was so quiet it was almost inaudible, but the alien still noticed and spun his head in (Reader's) direction so quickly his exoskeleton creaked. (Reader) bit their lip to hide a smile, turning away from the conference to pretend to munch on their fruit (?) slices.
The irate alien began ranting louder, and (Reader) caught a word they had heard from a few of the underlings they had been introduced to. Bah-blk. Human.
Shit.
They snuck a glance towards the group very slowly to view Kirtch's expression, worried they may have angered him by interrupting the meeting. And indeed, his almost perfectly flat face was pulled into a scowl, but it wasn't aimed at (Reader).
"(Reader), pet, could you come here for a moment?"
His voice was light and smooth, as it always was when speaking to (Reader), but Kirtch's face was grave as he refused to break eye contact with the alien in front of him; said alien's shell glistened like he was sweating under Kirtch's glare. (Reader), not wanting to be punished later, left their spot on the floor and shuffled over to their owner. Kirtch pulled (Reader) into his lap the second they were within his reach, still staring daggers at the poor alien across the table.
He spoke to the offender, holding (Reader) lovingly with one arm as if to make a point. The man was panicked, waving his arms and sweating profusely, sounding apologetic. It wasn't enough, whatever it was he was saying. He referenced (Reader) as Bah-blk again, and then he was dead.
Before (Reader) could understand what it was that Kirtch had pulled out of his robe, a soundless shot was fired across the table, green blood splattering across the wall as the alien's head was pierced by some kind of projectile.
Everyone turned away, unsurprised by the killing. It was a lukewarm reaction, as though this wasn't the first time they witnessed someone die at Kirtch's hand. The body fell, head slamming into the table with a wet thud.
(Reader) didn't know what he had said, but to kill him... It was jarring. The young adult hadn't payed any attention to the tears dripping down their chin until Kirtch wiped them off. The roughness of his hand startled (Reader), making them flinch away from his touch.
For the rest of the meeting (Reader) couldn't pry their eyes away from the dead body lying across from them. It was a nightmare seemingly without an end, staring at a corpse while his murderer held (Reader) tenderly, rubbing his thumb on their side absentmindedly while discussing business with colleagues like it was a regular Tuesday.
If (Reader) was more aware, they would be disgusted with themselves for not fighting Kirtch as he picked them up to go back to their room, but they just wanted to go back to the safety of their *bed*, and couldn't force their brain to focus on anything else.
The bed was more like a twin sized pillow nestled in a metal cage, but it was soft and felt secure, like when (Reader) was young and thought that hiding under their blanket would protect them from the shadow people in their closet.
"Are you alright, (Reader)?" Kirtch asked, his voice full of concern.
(Reader) curled up, pulling the blanket tight over their face.
Kirtch sighed, and crouched down by (Reader's) bed. "(Reader), please don't be upset with me. If this is about my colleague, please know that what I did was necessary."
"Murder is never necessary."
"He tried to accuse me of not being.. as invested in the job as I should be. And that the reason for my lack of dedication was you. He used very strong language." Kirtch placed a hand on (Reader's) back. "I told him not to disrespect you. Yet he continued."
(Reader) began crying, shaking under Kirtch's touch. "Are you saying that I'm the reason he's dead?"
"Oh, pet.." Kirtch sighed again, pulling (Reader) out of the fetal position and into his arms. "I've always been incredibly interested in humanity. When I was a young child, there was a 'book' in my father's study about primitive species, and that's how I learned about humans. Did you know that you and I experience life differently from one another? Our brains function differently. We have different pain receptors; our brains' physiology are almost nothing alike; the diseases humans are capable of developing simply for existing are concepts we've never had to worry about. Even how we perceive the color spectrum, humans are so unlike any other sentient species I have met."
"I was so fascinated by Earth, especially by humans. We are not allowed to visit Earth as it is a restricted area, so much of what we know is recorded knowledge from captured defectors. My chances of meeting a human were next to none. Then, we had to dock in Dol-Hu, a shady planet only inhabited by criminals and those in hiding. And wandering through the market, I saw you."
"The one thing I've always wanted, for the past seventy years, I recognized you as a human immediately, even though you were so much cuter than I could have expected. You're so soft, and fragile, in comparison to my armoured flesh. You were bent over, but I knew from descriptions I had memorized what you were. As one who has always loved Earth, I am fluent in every Earth language we know of, so I was excited to communicate with you. I was so eager to have a piece of humanity. And now here you are."
(Reader) rolled over, their heart clenching painfully as they looked up into Kirtch's sadly smiling face. "I wonder what I look like through your eyes."
Their heart began doing somersaults in their throat as the tears continued flowing.
"You may have been the only human I've ever known, but I can say with confidence that you must have been the best humanity had to offer. I only want to give you the best life possible."
(Reader) wrapped their arms around Kirtch's midsection, sobbing loudly. His body didn't bend or squish under the full strength of (Reader's) embrace. And that was how (Reader) fell asleep, crying themselves into a nap.
When they awoke, they were alone, lying in the bed with the cat tucked into their arms. (Reader) left the room to find Kirtch at his desk, working on paperwork. The giant heard (Reader) behind him, and turned his attention on them, smiling as he held out his arms in an offer to pick them up. And much to his surprise, (Reader) willingly entered into his embrace, and allowed him to set them on his lap without pouting or making a fuss.
"I have a few more documents to look over, then I can play with you, okay?"
"Okay." Their voice was quiet and monotone, (Reader's) mind still fuzzy from crying so much before falling asleep.
"Are you still upset? Is there anything I can do to make you happy?"Kirtch laid down his work, trapping (Reader) in his arms.
"No.. you can continue working."
"You're more important than my work. I consider your unhappiness to be a crises."
Worry began to prick at (Reader's) skin. "I'm really fine, we don't need to play!"
"Need?"
Memories of the day (Reader) was bought flashed through their mind, causing them to go red and hot as they started to squirm in Kirtch's embrace. "I-I- didn't mean it like that!"
One hand left (Reader's) body to grab something from Kirtch's desk. "Don't fret, I recently purchased a new toy I thought would bring you joy."
(Reader's) eyes bulged out as they froze in anticipation, their heart hammering in their chest. But what Kirtch retrieved did not appear safe to go near any genitalia, a strange contraption formed of multiple thin prongs on a handle. Embarrassed that they had assumed something sexual was about to happen, (Reader) bit the inside of their cheek, puzzling over the strange discomfort they were feeling. "What's that?"
Kirtch raised (Reader's) shirt, and dragged the device across their skin, causing an involuntary shudder. It tickled.
"Ah! No!" (Reader) accidentally laughed, trying to push Kirtch away. He trailed the toy from their pelvic area visible above their pants to their left armpit. The light tingling sensation forcibly clenched their stomach muscles as they let loose a howl of laughter.
They couldn't breathe correctly, laughing so hard that their spasming abdominals made it feel like they were choking. But they couldn't stop, begging Kirtch to "knock it off" while their cheeks hurt from the smile they had. That damn toy tickled every inch of their body, not even noticing when Kirtch removed their pants. They kicked futilely, unable to break free from the assault. Their sensitive skin was almost becoming painful to the touch, but the laughter only got louder.
"pleASE! KIRTCH, stop!!" (Reader) heaved. Their whole body felt tender, highly reactive to each touch. Which made them aware of the fact that the only thing separating them from Kirtch's lap was a thin pair of underpants. With how they had been writhing on his lap, they were relieved that Kirtch didn't seem to have a dick that could become aroused from such movements.
(Reader's) smile fell. I have no idea how Kirtch's species reproduces. Maybe he can get erections, but he won't get one for me because he sees me as a pet. An animal. Their heart turned to concrete as it dropped out of its cage.
Kirtch halted his attack when he saw (Reader) go limp. "Are you tuckered out, pet?"
(Reader) tried to slide off his lap like jelly. "I'm done playing. I want to go back to bed."
"Alright, my stubborn little grump, what is it now? You were all smiles but a second ago, so what is it plaguing your mind?"
They tried to scrunch up their nose to prevent more tears from sheepishly forming. "I'm not a pet. I'm a human. I want to be treated like an equal!"
Kirtch's smile was replaced by a hurt scowl. "Is it so unpleasant being my pet?"
"No!" (Reader) interjected, not understanding why it pained them so much to see Kirtch upset, "I just want to, I just.. I don't know. This is confusing, and it feels.. weird. You're really nice to me, and sometimes it feels like... but then other times you treat me like I'm a cat. This isn't what I want. Either be a bastard and treat me like an animal or treat me like-" Their words caught in their throat. Treat me like what?!
A fearful kiss was placed on their forehead, ghostly with hardly any pressure. Kirtch's hands trembled on (Reader's) sides. "All I wish is to adore you for the rest of your life."
He pulled (Reader) into his chest, petting their back in a comforting manner. "I'll give you anything you ask for, I'll do anything you ask of me. Just to keep you happy, with me. You are all that I've ever wanted. All I wish is to care for you, and spend all my attention on you. If there is anything you want, please ask me. I need you to love me."
(Reader) felt so confused. Like a squid was destroying their gut, everything was uncomfortable and scary. They knew that Kirtch viewed them as a pet, he loved them how (Reader) loved their family dog as a child. But when they heard him begging for their love, it made them wish for an odd moment that he wasn't an alien. That (Reader) was sitting on their boyfriend's lap right now, a strange human man who sometimes infantalized them but only out of affection. Why couldn't this be simple? Why did (Reader) want him to kiss them right at that moment?
"I want to go home. I want to meet someone kind and fall in love." (Reader's) words stabbed Kirtch in places he never knew could hurt.
"I can't do that, (Reader)..." Kirtch's embrace constricted almost painfully tight. "You're all I've ever wanted. You can't ask me to let you go. I'll take such good care of you, you'll see. I have the rest of your life to make you fall in love with me."
They sat there, holding one another in agonizing silence, both loving each other in a way that they couldn't explain. The way their brains functioned didn't just mean that Kirtch could see a wider range of colors than (Reader), but the way their species experienced love was too vastly different for the other to comprehend. Despite Kirtch wanting to own (Reader), that was the greatest love he had ever felt, since his species did not pair bond and only mated when two beings agreed amicably that they wished to procreate. He knew that humans felt many forms of love, love for a mate, love for their offspring, love for a friend.. but to something that never felt any of those forms of love, Kirtch couldn't understand the difference between them.
"I love you, my little pet. And I will always love you."
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whore-ibly-hot · 3 months
Text
"A Servant and His King."
Yandere!Fae-King x Fae!servant x. Fem! Reader
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18+ Minors DNI
Warnings: Dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, coercion, fae related hijinks, basically monster fucking, oral (fem receiving), loss of virginity, clit play, p-in-v sex, power dynamics.
(A/N): Part two to a non-smutnfic about Puck, based off of puck from 'Midsummer Nights Dream'. Can be read with or standalone.
Part one (not required to understand)
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A brief gust of wind and leaves rattles the shutters of your small cottages window, not sounding out of place when mixed with the usual sounds of the forest. However, the gust turns softer as it gently brushes against the shutters, causing them to open slowly with a creak.
A pair of feet land nimbly upon the wooden dresser across the room from your bed, a shadowy figure squatting down with a grin. The figure hops down, making its way to your bed, where you sleeping form lies blissfully unaware of the intruder.
Groaning, you are soon roused from your slumber by a light pressure on your wrist, and your eyes flutter open. You gasp, seeing the being before you and trying to pull away. "
"W-who are you! Stay awa-" a finger is pressed softly to your lips, the figures face coming into view as the lean forward. Forest green eyes and a set of familiar pearly whites greet you.
"Shh! No need to fear, only Puck is here." He coos, kissing your wrist once more, pressing the soft flesh to his lips. "Sorry to frighten you, little mortal. I would never mean to upset you, but I couldn't very waltz in through the entrance to your humble abode, especially given your mother's feelings about my kind." He lays his lithe body across yours, head on your chest as he looks at you with glee.
"Why are you here, Puck? It's late, I must rest." You say, though you don't resist the fae boys touching. "Sleep is important for humans."
He scoffs. "I know, but I have something more important than your human need for sleep. My king, Oberon, leader of the seelie court wishes to meet you." He pulls you up by your shoulders, a hand fixing your nightgown which begins to slip from your shoulder.
"T-the king?" You're just a human woman, a peasant. You've never even met a human noble, much less a faery king. "Why? Puck, I'm not, I can't! Now? I'm not dressed properly, I'm a human, I-"
Once again, a finger is placed against your lips. Invading your space as per usual, Pucks forehead is pressed against your forehead, nose to nose. "Shush, little mortal. Please, the king loves me. I am his jester-servant, his beloved Puck! We've shared many a-" he chuckles. "Amourous night together. He knows if your good enough for me, then your good enough to meet him. Don't discredit yourself, you are so much more than some mortal maid I take in the woods for a night of passion." He makes her sit up, and tries to slip her out of the bed. "He'll love you, my sweet. It's only proper I introduce my new beloved friend to my closest companion, ruler, and my king." You allow him to pull you out of your bed, and into his lanky form.
"Mmph, Puck. I can walk." You groan, trying to wriggle from his grasp. He tsks with his tongue, and shakes his head.
"No, no, no. Don't whine, don't go away. Be good. It's a long stroll all the way to the spring we're going to, just relax." He cackles. "You humans are so indecisive. Just a moment ago you were whining, 'Puck, no. It's too late, I'm a human, I need my sleep.', now you won't let me carry your frail, tired self to see the king. Make up your mind."
You roll your eyes, but suppose he has a point, and allow yourself to melt into his warm embrace, shoulders flush against his pecs.
As he slips back through the window and dances through the glen, weaving through trees and brush like a gust of cool night air, he soon arrives upon a clearing. Smooth rock reflect moonlight, as the water resting atop them comes from the babbling freshwater spring that rests at the edge of the rocks. A figure, imposing and much more muscular than Puck's is sat on one of the rocks, admiring the water.
Puck gently sets you down with nimble hands, kissing your ear lightly. This causes you to squeak and push him off.
"Stop it, Puck! I-im about to meet a king and your acting like we're lovers! Like your an enamored schoolboy!" You exclaim, and his hands only wrap around your waist from behind, playing with the cloth there.
"And here I thought we were lovers..." He feigns a sad face and a pout, before jolting forward and taking you with him by the waist. "My king!" He yells.
The imposing figure looks over, causing you to freeze, mind not really in synch with body as Puck drags you forward. The king is truly a thing of beauty, rugged and piercing as if he were carved, not from stone, but from the wood that made up the forest which he called his domain. He wears a fur pelt around his waist, covering his only upper thigh and not leaving much to the imagination. His is decidedly hairy, and though beautiful is as rugged as a human man of the woods is expected to be. He has dark curls of hair not unsimilar to Puck's, but not as long. His eyes are a deep brown.
"Ah, Puck, my fair servant friend. I was almost afraid you had planned to trick me, having not shown yet." The king muses, legs spread casually and a hand resting against his chin.
Puck gasps, hand to his chest as if hurt. "Never, my liege. Well, at least not to you." Puck coos, sitting on the rock and curling up to the man's calve. The king runs his hands through the curls of the fae man, and you are taken aback by the sensuality of their interaction.
The king looks up. "And you, little mortal, must be my Pucks new favorite thing, hmm?" He asks, head tilted. You nod nervously as the man waves you closer. You bow, and he grins. "Good, good. I assume she knows who I am then? I am King Oberon, of this enchanted woods and over all of the seelie court. Though, my servant here told me you knew little to nothing of our people when asked you about us, so I doubt you'd know what the seelie court is."
You shake your head. "No, sir. All I know-" you glance at Puck, who is practically purring at his kings touch. "All I know is what Puck has told me. That you are powerful, and to be respected."
Oberon grins at this. "That is all you need know. Come here, allow a king to gaze upon you." His hands begin to wander, cupping your face. His large fingers prod your plump lips, your cheeks, and tilts your chin downwards to look at him from where he is sat. Then, the hand is on your shoulder, playing with the straps of your upper garment, then at your chest. This sudden touch in such an intimate place causes you to jolt back. Oberon raises a brow.
"I'm sorry, sir. That is, that is just a very intimate place for humans. It's for sensual matters, when between two adults." You try to explain. Puck sighs, leaning his head on Oberons knee while the king chuckles.
"I am aware. It is intimate and sensual for fae too. That is why you were being touched there." He says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Now, you are only more confused.
"Well, intimacy of those matters between humans happens between a-a married couple, and even then, it should not be openly discussed. A woman like myself couldn't, shouldn't ever bee with a stranger like that, not even a suitor before marriage!"
"I have heard humans are... less indulgent in the passions of life than fae. All those awful, boring rules. And yet you kill your leaders and revolt because your miserable? Perhaps. Eing unable to express those urges is why." He laughs, and Puck joins in. He sense your confusion and continues. "Fae do not believing in brief enjoyment and indulgence. We live life to the fullest. Our liquor is stronger yet we drink more, our food is richer, yet we all eat like kings. And most of all, we indulge in the passions of the flesh with each other more than your little mind could take. I think if you had the opportunity, you'd see it was the best way to live." He muses.
To your suprise, he suddenly moves Puck up from his calve to his lap, holding the thin man by the waist as Puck grins wickedly. "You see, me and my servant here are close, emotionally and physically. We have enjoyed many a night of passion, without the watchful eye of my queen, of course." There is some bitterness in Oberon's tone at the mention of his queen.
"You... you indulge in passion with those, of the same gender as you, o-often?" You ask. It is not wrong, you are just so suprised and curious. You are not even supposed to think about a man pleasing a woman, let alone a man and another man. It is such a foreign idea.
"Mhmm. Being a king is hard for his majesty, and Puck... I, am happy to help him with his desires. My king cares for me, and I care for him." Puck says, before gasping and cutting off. You blush, seeing Oberons hand has slipped below Pucks leafy loincloth, hand stroking Puck manhood. He focuses only on the tip for now.
"I am suprised seeing as you are so shocked by how touchy and sensual fae are, seeing as you bedded my dear servant." Oberon says, and you immediately shake your head.
"No! I've never, me and Puck did nothing together. We drank a little, but he took me home." You exclaim, and look st Ouck for answers. He's too busy letting out soft whimpers and moans as Oberon moves his hand the full length of Pucks cock, paying attention to his bulbous tip.
"Is this true, Puck? I find it hard to believe, my servant can't keep his hands to himself. I suppose this makes you seem even more special to me, that my Puck would wish to see you again so desperately, and rave about you to me even if he had not bedded you yet. That begs the question though..." He leans in to Puck's ear. "Why did you lie to your king?"
Puck groans, brows furrowing. "M' sorry, your majesty! I knew you were so busy, and if I told you I had found a mortal capable of giving such incredible pleasure, you'd be more likely to come and see what a treasure I had found." He stammers. The king shakes his head, slowing his movements on Puck's cock.
"You know better than to lie to a king with a temper, Puck."
Puck cries out, bucking his hips and trying to chase that friction against his kings rough hands. "N-no sir! Trust me, I know if she'd just indulge, the mortal would be wonderful! She... she could be our mortal, not just mine! Please sir, I'll be good, she'll be good, don't stop." He begs.
Oberon sighs, still frowning in Pucks direction but intrigued nonetheless. "Alright, mortal girl. I yell you, if you would only let go, indulge just a bit in the pleasures of the fae, you would live a better life overall. And, should you please a king of the woods, perhaps your... what is it your mother does? Herbs? Perhaps they would see a better yield. An enchantment perhaps?" He offers.
You gulp, body hot with both arousal at the sight before you and anxiety. "I couldn't. What would the people in town think, I-I would be outcast!"
"Who would know? Even if someone were to find out, no one would believe a quiet gardeners daughter slept with a wicked spirit." The king teases, tongue poking out from between his lips slightly. He pulls you to him, and you offer no resistance. "For an untouched maiden, I assure you there is no one better to introduce you to a world of pleasure than the king, and his most loyal servant."
As he says this, the moaning Puck latches his lips onto your neck, continuing to moan as he sucks the soft flesh. You gasp.
"Oh, oh, gods." You squeak, the sensitive skin of your nape never having been touched, much less kissed in such a way.
"No gods, here, mortal. No angels or demons, only fae. Only the spirits of nature." He leans into your ear, kissing the shell. "Only your king."
Soon, a rough hand gets your skirt pooled around your knees, kneading the fat of your thigh and preparing to spread your legs and allow the fae king and his srmervant a view of the untouched treasure that lies there. You shiver as the cold air brushes across your stomach, you've never felt so exposed.
"See, highness? I told you, she's the perfect, pretty little mortal. Tease her, please? For me? I want to see her face as she experiences pleasure for the first time." Puck begs.
Oberon raises a brow and the request. "Such demands from a liar who has already been granted mercy, and is still being pleasure bu the hands of a king." He pulls his hand from Ouck's cock, causing tears to well in the edged faes eyes, having been denied his release.
"Majesty-"
"Enough. I will allow you to tease and prep the maiden, so she may except you king. Before you say anything, be grateful I don't only allow you to watch, or send you home." Puck whines, but grins a little inside. He knows the king enjoys his presence to much to remove him from this sensual scene.
Oberons large hands keep your shoulders flat against the warm stones of the spring, while Puck, still hard beneath his tented loincloth, crawls unceremoniously up between your thighs.
"What are you doing, Puck?" You whisper out softly, looking into his dazzling green eyes. He smiles warmly, pressing his cheek to one of your thighs.
"I assure you, maiden, my wicked tongue is not only good for japes and jabs." He coos. You are still confused at what he could mean, until the two thin fingers parting your folds are replaced with a hot, wet muscle. Puck licks a stripe teasingly up your center, savoring the flavour but eyes never leaving your face.
Oberon smiles down as he watches your face contort and wrinkle at the new sensation.
"Puck, y-your majesty, what is- oh, what is he doing?" You ask, trying to form a coherent sentence at the odd feeling of pressure and friction against both your clit and your entrance as Puck explores your folds.
"It's called cunnilingus, maiden. Fae have many ways to pleasure each other, but many enjoys the feel of one's mouth on their most intimate areas." He chuckles as he watches Puck tasting you curiously. "Sometimes, I find filling his mouth is the only way to quiet him." Puck giggles, and the vibrations make your legs quake.
Soon, the muscle invades your entrance, as Puck is now groaning almost as much as you. It's a gentle stretch, but both Ouck and Oberon know it will be necessary for what the king is to do later. Your aroused and needy clit is not forgotten by the fae pleasuring you, as a free hand comes to tweak it gently. The feeling is overwhelming, and soon, that knot inside you snaps, and you feel a high you've never known. It feels as though currents, waves run through your body as your maidenhood spasms around Pucks tongue.
He removes it, but continues to lap at your spent clit, tasting the juices of your climax. Oberon smiles.
"Was he good, maiden? Did you first touch by a man satisfy?" He asks. You can only weakly nod. "Ah, answer, maiden. Your being addressed by a royal."
"It was... it was very good, m-majesty." You gasp out. You look away at the sheer lewdness of the sight and Oberon crashes his lips to Pucks so that he may taste you on his servants lips.
"She was a divine nectar, my liege." Puck groans, pulling away from the kiss and now trading spots with his king. Now Puck lays by your shoulders, playing with your locks and kissing your neck and jawline while Oberon moves into place.
His chisled body places itself atop you, his sheer size dwarfing you and removing the moonlight from your body, casting a large shadow. You gulp.
"I... I've never done-" he chuckles, cutting you off.
"I'm aware, mortal. All that talk of purity led me to that conclusion. But, you won't be that innocent for long. I will be gentle, but it will hurt at first when you accept me into your sweet cunt. It's all part of the process."
You tense a little at the feeling of something hard, much more rigid than Pucks limp tongue, prodding at your entrance and folds.
"M' scared." You admit. This seems to soften the sensual yet cold king, and he sighs. Even Puck gives him a sad, wide eyes look. He leans down.
"Don't worry, mortal. I will be as gentle as any man has been with a woman. My Puck was never one to be nervous, but I have had lovers in the past who were. I will take care of you." He says.
Puck holds your hand and nuzzles his cheek to yours to provide a semblance of comfort. "It's true. The king is a fair and gentle lover when he wants to be. Don't worry, my friend." He assures.
Oberon strokes your thighs to relax soon, and soon the tip enters your weeping slit. You whine, the intrusion burns a little, especially as he adds a few inches every so often. But, he is slow, and talks you through it.
"Shh, it's alright. Your taking me so well, especially since I am endowed with more than some. Such a good mortal girl, it will feel good once you've stretched to accommodate a fae's cock." He coos.
As he begins to gently thrust, the slightly pain gives way to a burning pleasure. You whimper, his thrusts rocking your ads back against the stone of the spring. His large, curved tip is hitting the right spots, cervix getting pounded by the large man of the forest.
"O-oh, shit! Oberon, please- please, m-more! I need all, all of you in me!" You cry, and he chuckles.
"That's your womb speaking. This is your first time, you couldn't possibly accommodate all of me. But I will give you what I think, ugh, what I think you can take." He thursts become rhythmic, rolling in and out of your stretched tunnel, as Puck holds you steady and plays gently with your chest.
Oberon humps against you a few more times, moaning at Pucks encouragement. "She is so close, sire. I can tell, she's all tense and red, come on! Give it to her, let her take you. Please." It's clear Puck is still needy from not having gotten his release earlier. Still, he seems satisfied watching the king fuck his newest treasure.
"Mortal, mortal. You squeeze like a vice, such a warm, needy cunt. You needed this, to feel such pleasure, didn't you? Needed a cock to fill this cunt?" He moans. "It was fate, wasn't it, Puck? Finding this maiden, all alone. It was fate for you to be brought to us." Puck nods as his master continues.
"Your majesty, I'm gonna- its happening again." You cry, and his pace doesn't slow.
"I know, I know. I'm, fuck-" one last thrust sends the king over the edge. He groans, feeling your tunnel convulse around him as his thick white cum fills you. Puck plants quick, overwhelming kisses across your face as you climax, secretly wondering what you would look like if you bore the king's child.
Soon, Oberon pulls out, and you lay there, trembling and on the verge of sleep. Puck leans down and plants a final kiss upon your lips. He smiles.
"Sleep, little mortal. It's okay, you are safe with me and my king. I'll return you to your bed, pretty one." He strokes your hair softly, until your tired eyes close and stay closes. He sighs, and looks at the king. It's clear he could go for a fee more rounds.
"Majesty, our poor mortal needed this so badly, her body was on fire for it. We can't... we can't well let her go back to her little cottage, all alone in the dangerous wood with no one to please her. She's trusting, and she broke all the rules of interacting with fae so quickly, what if a worse one came along and-"
"Puck!" Oberon exclaims, making the imp jolt and go silent. Oberon sighs. "I am not a fool. I know how much this unique mortal has captivated the two of us. You need not convince me to take her back to my palace. As fair as Titania will be concerned, she is a plaything for you, correct? I will not have her cursing this treasure." Oberons muscular arms cradle your slumbering form.
"Majesty, I know of your endurance. Perhaps when we get back to the palace, while our maiden rests, I may please you." Puck asks, eyes wide and innocent.
Oberon scoffs. "All this acting because I didn't allow you to finish, Puck?" Oberon says, seeing through Pucks facade of goodwill and selflessness. Puck pouts.
"Isn't it tempting, though?"
"Perhaps."
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