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inkbybambi · 6 months

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best friend!simon riley picking you up from a bad date —

words: 2.2k rating: nothing explicit apart from a brief mention of sex, just some light angst and comfort. my blog is 18+ so minors please dni. warning: hurt/comfort, fluff, pet names, insecurity/doubt/worry, mentions of sex, simon is the softie we all know he is notes: originally written for @ghosts-cyphera ♡ we all need a bestfriend!simon in our lives who's so sweet and gentle with us.

one thing you love about simon — besides everything — is how reliable he is. strong, steadfast, there when you need him. even when he’s not physically there — his work taking him away for weeks or even months at a time — you find yourself reading over the messages he’s sent, the little sticky notes he’s left, whatever memento you’ve kept of him tucked away in the drawer in your bedside table.

not that you’ll tell him that.

you hate asking him for favors — asking anyone for favors, really, but him especially. whenever you ask someone for help, it's always accompanied by a long-suffering sigh or a roll of the eyes or some very clear indication that they'd rather do anything else.

except for simon.

which is why you're hesitant to ask him more than you absolutely need to. you don't want to push your luck too far, less he eventually tires of you as well.

losing people hurts, always assuming it's you that caused the problem. you've come to accept this, even if the dark feelings of being too much or a burden claw at the edges of your mind.

but losing simon? you don't think you'd ever get over that.

it's just after 9pm, the sky dark and clouds threatening, with thunder rumbling steadily in the sky. your hand shakes as you fumble your phone from your pocket, trying to hold your tears at bay as you scroll through your contacts.

your call log is all simon.

some appointments here and there, but simon everywhere else.

fuck.

you hiccup, the tears spilling from your eyes as the sky finally opens up, joining you in your mourning.

you don't have any other choice, really, so you click his number before you can talk yourself out of it and walk home instead, bringing it up to your ear as it rings.

he answers before the third ring.

"i'm so sorry to bother you," you sniffle into the phone, before he has a chance to say anything. you take in a sharp breath, blood turning to ice. "am i bothering you?" you sound so meek and small and tired.

“no, dove, you’re not,” comes his calm, reassuring voice. you’re only half-convinced.

"i'm sorry," you begin again. your heart falls to your stomach, convincing yourself that this is his final straw. you're overtaken by a wave of nausea, despite not having eaten anything since lunch. "i didn't know who else to call, and i lost my tram pass, and i don't have an umbrella, and — "

“dove,” he says, his accent soothing to your ears — he's so endlessly patient and kind. you ache.

"i can just walk home, i-i'm sorry," you whimper out, unable to stop the tears blurring your vision, feeling pathetic and weak and so, so alone.

“darling,” he says, a little stern. not angry, never angry. trying to focus you. “what’s wrong?”

“u-um, my date stood me up,” you sniff, swallowing hard. "i waited an hour," you mumble, looking to your shoes. "messaged him too, y'know. but he just. didn't show."

you think you hear simon curse over the line and your heart lurches, feeling like you're about to be sick.

“where are you?”

there's a rustle of fabric, the clink of keys, the heel of his boot walking across his floor. you manage to tell him the name of the restaurant, voice cracking.

“twenty minutes,” he says, and you’re about to protest but he beats you to it. “sit there and be good and patient and i’ll pick you up, yeah?”

"okay," you whisper in agreement, before the line clicks dead and you allow yourself to cry, huddling under the awning as some protection from the rain, now coming down in thick, sharp waves.

thirteen minutes later, the headlights of his truck shine through the dark, pulling up to the curb. you make a mad dash for the passenger door, still getting drenched in the process.

you can't even look at him, hands shaking as you buckle the belt, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

he says your name gently. you take in a shuddering breath and let it out just as shaky, looking over towards him. he's wearing his balaclava, but his eyes — even in the dark, you can make out his beautiful eyes. assessing you, worrying.

"i'm sorry," you croak out. you can't help it. it's burned into your tongue, driven into your mind to make him understand you didn't want to bother him. he doesn't have to forgive you, but as long as he knows, that's enough.

"love," he says, and there's... something in his voice, as he reaches over for your hand, holding it gently in his own. his eyes never leave yours. "'m never gonna be mad about you askin' for help." your eyes flit away, but he squeezes your hand and you reluctantly look back. "you know me better than that," he says, as if he can read the treacherous thoughts swirling in your head, drowning you and making it hard to breathe.

you can only nod, not trusting your voice at the moment. he hums, bringing the back of your hand up to graze his covered lips over the back, pulling out to drive you back.

"this is your flat," you say, fifteen minutes later as he shuts the car off. you were too busy looking at the window, watching the rain drops race down the glass, to notice that he wasn't driving the familiar route to your place.

"yes," he replies, as if it's obvious he'd bring you here. "you really think i'd let you stay home alone?"

his eyes are so fucking bright. it startles you, and you hate how your heart twists and thumps at how intently he's looking.

"i..." you start, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment. his eyes flicker to your lips, snapping away just as quick. "i was gonna eat ice cream and drink shitty, cheap wine," you say.

"as if i don't have either of those things here," he replies, opening the door and effectively ending the conversation. you scramble after him, eager to be inside in the warmth and burrow yourself into his couch.

"go get changed," he says, voice clear as he removes the balaclava and bends to untie his shoes.

you hesitate for a second, until he looks up to you and there's that something lingering in his gaze — the same something that was in his voice.

"go on now," he repeats, softer, and you ditch your shoes and your uncomfortably wet jacket by his.

his flat is as familiar as your own — you could walk through it blindfolded at night and you wouldn't knock into a single thing.

well.

you might knock into a corner or two, but that's not a vision thing. it's a you're a bit clumsy thing. simon finds it endlessly amusing, poking at the bruises that blossom on your skin while you bat his hand away.

his bedroom is familiar as well. which is why you don't think twice before you're shimmying out of your clothes — undergarments as well — and rifling through his drawers, finding your favorite shirt of his and a pair of his boxers.

you take a moment to smell the collar, taking comfort in the scent that lingers. you’ve been dressed in his clothes many times before this but it feels different this time.

as you pad back out to the living room, simon’s already on the couch. your favorite blanket is draped across his lap, two bowls of ice cream and a bottle of cheap wine sitting open, glasses filled far more than you would’ve. but you’ll indulge him, mostly because you have the sneaking suspicion that he’ll have you sleep here anyways.

his balaclava is off. the last dregs of tension drain from you as he looks over to you, face soft in the lowlight of the lamp, tv already ready with a show you’ve watched a thousand times that he watches with you without complaint.

“knew you’d choose that one,” he says with a bit of a smirk as you crawl on the couch, burrowing yourself into his side, his arm slinging across the back of the cushion.

“am i that predictable?” you mumble, a small ‘thank you’ as he hands you a bowl.

he doesn’t answer, but you feel the burn of his stare before he snorts, flicking the tv to start playing, the familiar theme relaxing you further.

the silence with him is comfortable, lingering in a hazy in-between of awake and sleep, empty bowls and mostly empty glasses sitting on the coffee table.

“were you going to fuck him?” he asks, three episodes in, bottle empty.

you blink, not sure if you heard him properly as you pull back to look at him. you can’t read his eyes. something hot twists in your gut.

“i-i don’t know, simon,” you start, the weight of his stare heavy. “maybe?”

he doesn’t say anything and you chew your lip for a moment, fingers curling to play with the blanket. “depends how the date went, i suppose. doesn’t matter much now,” you snort. his gaze hasn’t changed. “why?”

his jaw clicks, taking a deep breath. “you deserve better ‘n that.”

a confused frown pulls at your mouth, unsure how to reply. “i know how to be safe,” you tell him, voice soft.

he seems to be weighing his words in his head, lowering the volume of the show. you feel sick.

dark eyes rove over your face, taking in every minute detail. you bite at your nail, just for something to do.

“don’t think there’s a bloke in the world that’s worthy of ya.”

your frown deepens, breaking your eyes from his, twisting your fingers in your lap. relationships aren’t easy. being that vulnerable with someone isn’t easy.

you never want someone to pay for you, and even the smallest gestures like opening the car door or pulling out your chair feel like it’s too much. you don’t deserve that kind of attention. after a while, they’ll get tired. you’ll become a burden to them like everything else in your life.

it’s easier to be by yourself. the only person you have to worry about bothering is you.

“love.” he tilts his head, eyes trying to catch yours. how hasn’t he tired of you yet?

a hand under your chin forces your gaze up, and you try to shrink yourself against the back of the couch. your voice catches in your throat, words stuck there.

“what’s goin’ on in tha’ pretty head f’yours?”

you swallow thickly, finding it damn near impossible to keep your eyes on his.

“‘s not like it matters,” you start. his brows furrow, but he stays silent. “no one would want me anyways.”

“‘n why would you say that?”

frustration burns the back of your throat. isn’t it obvious? you can barely call him in a dire situation without thinking the worst of yourself. how can he think of you as anything but a nuisance? how could he think anyone else would put up with it?

“you wouldn’t understand,” you say, defeated. you crumble back into the couch.

“make me understand.”

heat flashes at the nape of your neck. he takes your hands in his, cradling them in his warmth. your name sounds so soft in his voice.

“how aren’t you tired of me?” comes your whispered question, nose tingling and eyes threatening to water. you look at him. hesitant. scared.

the silence is loud. his frown deepens. it takes a few painful minutes, but you see the moment something clicks in place.

“you know i’d do anything for you, yeah?”

your lip quivers, sniffling as you beg yourself not to cry.

“because you do the same for me,” he continues. you doubt it, mind going blank of every time he’s come to you for something.

his touch moves to your elbow, tugging you forward gently until he can arrange you in his lap. he slips his hands beneath the hem of his shirt, thumbs rubbing on your hips where the waistband of his boxers start.

you slowly brace your hands on his shoulders. firm and broad and safe.

“you apologize so much. you worry so much.” the tears slip down your cheeks, throat aching, but now you can’t look away from him. one hand moves to cup the nape of your neck, thumb rubbing gently at the skin behind your ear.

“you’re allowed to ask for help.”

you shake your head, a “no” caught in your throat, tears blurring your vision.

“oh, love.” he cradles you into the curve of his neck, arm wrapping around your waist and keeping a gentle hold at the base of your skull. “you have me wrapped around your finger ‘n you don’t even know it.”

he lets you cry into his neck, dampening the collar of his shirt. but his cologne is soothing and you eventually slump against him. you’re so tired.

his lips graze your temple, his soft touch lulling you to sleep. you’ll talk about it tomorrow, but for now you want to stay wrapped up in his arms, held by someone who genuinely loves you.

#ink by bambi #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley/reader #simon riley/you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley hurt/comfort #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #ghost imagine #modern warfare imagine

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rinhaler · 7 months

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step cest, virginity loss and non con with toji pretty please? :3

the contrast between the content ur asking for and then the innocent little :3 face is sending me btw 😩 but u said pretty please so u shall receive!

warnings: 18+ MDNI, noncon, virginity loss, fem!reader, step cest, daddy kink, ddlg, step daddy!toji, no prep, cream pie, dacryphilia, praise, pet names.

words: 1.4k

It’s too much for him.

Seeing how beautiful you’ve grown up to be. You’re so smart and kind, too. He feels like he’s losing you each and every day that he drops you off outside of your university building. He’ll never tire of hearing you express how proud of yourself you are to be the first in your family to get accepted.

But he’s starting to notice a change in you.

You’re wearing more makeup and spritzing more expensive perfume. Your tops are getting lower and your skirts are getting shorter. He notices it all because you’re in such close proximity to him whenever he gives you a ride to your classes. Your scent almost luring him into the deepest depths he can sink. Your naked thighs jiggling in the passenger seat practically begging him to push them apart so he can bare witness to your needy virgin cunt.

And he knows you’re still a virgin.

He hears the phone calls you have with your new friends while you pace back and forth in your bedroom talking about which guys in the class you think are cute. All the while he’s willing himself not to give in to his basic instinct and shove a hand down his pants and jerk himself off to the way you describe what you think sex might be like.

You’re adorably naïve.

You’ve convinced yourself it won’t hurt as badly as everyone says it will. Of course that could be the case if you were to fuck one of the pencil-dicked losers in your class. But it would be different with him. Your first time should be with him.

That’s what he tells himself when he sneaks into your room in the early hours of the morning. He knows you have an 8am class, but you’re such a good girl he’s sure you won’t mind. Hell, he’ll even let you skip it if you behave yourself.

He riled himself up too much thinking about what a fucking travesty it would be if you let some frat boy sully your insides. It can’t happen, it won’t happen. He muses to himself as he sits on the edge of your bed.

Your body slowly reacts to his presence as you blink away at the bleary filter in your eyes. You stiffen slightly when you realise you aren’t alone. When you see a shadowy figure looking down at you, every worst case scenario runs through your head in an instant.

“S’just me, darlin’.” he tells you, your vision comes into focus when you hear the all too familiar voice of your daddy. His hand holds your thigh, soothing you with a simple circling thumb.

“You scared me, daddy…” you sigh, getting comfortable in bed once again. You’re losing the battle against sleep, your eyelids feel heavy as you try to continually fight away the exhaustion. If daddy is here, it must be important, after all.

He’ll keep you safe, though.

You know there’s nothing to worry about with your daddy around.

“Need you to stay still ‘n be quiet for me, yeah? Can you do that?” he whispers. You barely register the sound of fabric being moved as you try and find his eyes in the sea of darkness. You, nod though, immediately proving what a good little girl you are for your daddy.

You feel a chill as he pulls your duvet away from your barely clothed body. It’s like you knew he’d be paying you a visit tonight. He can’t quite see, but wastes no time hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

“Oh, d-daddy?” you speak, quietly squirming a little as he slowly pulls them.

“Thought you were going to be quiet for me, hm?” he reminds you, a gruff tone to his soothing voice. “Be a good girl for daddy, yeah? Let this happen…”

You gulp, nervously, your body freezing at his words as you realise what’s going on. He yanks your shorts away and throws them over his shoulder, you bare cunt on display is making you consider maybe being with your daddy isn’t so safe.

Maybe your daddy doesn’t always have your best interests at heart.

There’s a clacking sound you can’t place. It’s filling the room along with daddy’s groaning. You flinch as you feel the mattress spring back into place before sinking deeper than it had before. Your body is trapped beneath his and you can’t stop yourself from crying. This isn’t how you imagined your first time, this isn’t how you would have imagined any time.

But you’re paralysed.

You’re powerless.

“D-Daddy… I don’t— I don’t… like… this…” you tell him, still unable to stop your tears from falling. You gasp as he effortlessly covers the lower half of your face with the palm of his hand.

You work out the source of that unrelenting clacking sound as he towers above you, furiously touching himself as he prepares to enter your tight heat.

“Of course ya do, sweetheart.” he kisses your forehead repeatedly as he rubs his heavy tip against your virgin slot. You cry into his hand as he begins to push into you at a snails pace. He’d never do anything to intentionally hurt his baby girl. But this is something he can’t control. “This is what little girls like you are made for. Makin’ their daddies feel so good.” he continues.

His emerald eyes are the only thing you can see in the dark abyss of your room. It’s terrifying, how the eyes you had trusted more than anyone else’s are making you want to scream out in fear.

He feels your tears and saliva dampen his hand as he bullies his cock into you. If he had any sort of conscience, he’s sure he’d feel guilty for not even having the decency to prepare you first. But you’re so fucking tight like this. Taking him like such a good girl, swallowing him whole and squeezing around him like he belongs to you.

And besides, no amount of preparation would have readied you for how well-endowed he is.

He rocks his hips into yours again and again, your screams turn to muffled moans beneath his heavy palm as his tip finds it’s sanctuary against your sweet spot. It hurts, fuck, he’s monstrously big and it fucking hurts.

You try to talk to him, words he’ll never understand as his hand stifles you. He isn’t sure if it’s wise to move it. Will you scream and cause a fuss? It’s a big risk. But you’ve always been a good girl. His good girl. So he slowly peels his hand away, your whimpering moans slowly creeping up your airways and running rampant through his perverse mind.

“’m made… made for you? For daddy?” you whisper. He smiles, smothering your voice with an incestuous kiss that neither of you seem to mind. “B-But it hurts, daddy! O-Ow, daddy’s too big for me!” you cry out, a little louder than you’d intended and certainly louder than Toji wanted. He covers your mouth once more, his brutal pace kicking into high gear as he slams his whole weight behind his thrusts.

“Good fuckin’ girl, baby.” he praises you, admiring how your eyes roll over white and your consciousness leaves your body and he pummels everything he has into you. “No one can know about this, got it? You can’t do this with anyone else either. Wan’ you t’be daddy’s special girl… f-forever.” he speaks, hips speech failing as he begins to reach his peak.

He hadn’t expected you to tighten around him, either. He’s gifted you with your first orgasm and your pussy hugging ‘n squeezing around him forces him to reject any concept of pulling out. You have him trapped inside of your previously untainted walls. Thick, white cum coats your insides and he collapses on you as he finishes.

His grunts continue to fill the room. Though they sound like they’re only meant for you to hear as he levels his mouth with your ear. You turn to face him, those familiar green eyes feel so safe again as he looks at you. Like you can trust him with anything. You could tell him any secret and he’d take it to the grave.

But you know better, now.

You know what you are to him.

“W-Why did you do that, daddy?” you ask him, your voice so timid and subdued. You always talk so sweetly to your daddy. He thinks if you didn’t want that, you would be picking a fight with him. You’d be screaming and crying and demanding an explanation. But you’re too sweet for that. You’re too much of a good girl for daddy to do any of that.

“… Because good little girls always let their daddy cum in them first.”

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kalki-tarot · 1 month

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Your First Date with your Fs! 💌

Pick only one picture. Kalki tarot is not responsible for any decisions you make in your life from this reading(s). Use your brain and be mindful.

Please Allow me to tap into your energy.

Tap on Masterlist for more.

Pile 01

For some of you this date may be through arranged marriage or some female member from your family will first introduce you to them.

For others I'm getting that you may have 2 options to choose from, and you choose them after a lot of thinking and introspecting. Because i see you really wanting someone long term.

I'm seeing that your fs could be someone very shy and introverted on the first date, they may not really seem that talkative you know? Those people who only talk when nessecary.

This will take place when you are in some really busy or hardworking phase in your life. Maybe you just started a new job or you are a very busy person in general. The first date can be near water, like beach, seas, lakes etc. This can also take place in an amusement park.

Before the date you will be very anxious about what will happen and what not. Very scattered energy and overthinking is coming from your side. But anyhow, you really look forward to it and future of you guys together. If you last long or not? All these thoughts will cover up your mind.

For some of you, I'm also seeing that you may not be able to sleep a day before the date due to excitement, racing hearts and thoughts lol. You really are very anxious about it.

On the other hand, you future spouse too seems to be a little worried. They are someone who were heartbroken in the past, they were too giving in relationships but never received enough. So these thoughts may resurface and they may start to overthink too. They will be curious to know if you are someone genuine and trustworthy or like their old partners.

Okay, let's see how the actual date will be! I'm seeing that your fs may insist to pay even if they have less amount of money, such a gentleman/woman. The feminine (not gender specific) in the connection may take a lead throughout the date as they may have planned it all together.

I'm also seeing you guys talking about your future visions and goals. All the things you desire to do and achieve in your life. You both may have similar goals or interests which will be very interesting. You may also talk about some intellectual topics like politics or Philosophy.

Your chemistry together would be fabulous. Like two puzzle pieces perfectly joining together and making sense. The date will be very nice, so don't worry about it. Just be yourself and show your true self. I'm also seeing you guys will want to have another date too. You both will look forward to meeting each other again. Lovely!

Pile 02

Wow! This date will be a surprise for you. Your fs won't tell u where they are taking you, as it will be a surprise for you. I'm also getting a scenario where you are literally blindfolded and when they show you the place you get very surprised.

Your fs can be a foreigner for some of you. This date will be in a different location or country than you live in currently. The date will be fun and entertaining. Your fs may buy or gift you a small piece of jewellery to keep as a memory.

The masculine will literally dress up their best on the first date ! I'm seeing someone putting on white shirt and perfume. This date can happen at a formal place like a fancy restaurant or bar. They would want to smell and look their best.

I'm also seeing that you guys may drink wine together as I'm seeing them pouring you a glass. They will talk about what you expect from them and whatever they can provide for you in the relationship. They are someone very selfless and giving.

For the feminines, I'm seeing that she was forced to show up on this date by their friend or family member. She is very busy and had to take out time from her schedule. The feminine will really show up in a silky satin dark purple and shiny dress. She will look very sexy and appealing. The masculine will get swayed by her appearance lmao.

About the actual date, I'm seeing love at first sight. You guys will fall for each other and you will be surprised by how great you two match together. You will be amazed by how different your ideologies are but still you guys do great together. You will take this as a sign as they are the one for you.

One thing specifically I'm getting is that please specify and clear your past in front of your fs on the first date itself. Some people may try to ruin things for you. please be careful and don't lie to your fs about anything. They are very understanding and will understand you.

You should also consider to have another date, as I'm seeing confusion for you. Take things slow and steady.

Pile 03

This date will happen after you've got stable in your career and now you wanna explore love in your life. For some I'm also seeing that you will be in your 30s when this date takes place, take whatever resonates. It's never too late for love.

You may consult your friends or even a tarot reader before the date for necessary precautions because Your mind will feel somehow conflicted and underconfident. But your angels will be supporting you.

Wow, for your fs i can see that they really are in love with you and want to propose you for marriage as soon as possible. It's because they love you so much and don't wanna lose this great opportunity.

They will be daydreaming about you and trying to brush up their flirting skills. They really wanna woo you fr.

You guys can meet in a hospital or a court, some strict and structured place is what i can see. Or their/your profession can be lawyer, doctor, teacher, professor etc.

Your first date can be in a zoo, animal shelter, park, or you can try pottery,painting or some hand craft thing on your first date.

This occasion will heal your inner child a lot. You will finally be at peace and feel like home with your person. You'll feel better and lighthearted. You won't even realize how fast the time passes. You will get this feeling on the first date itself that they are your counterpart, the one you're meant to be with. It will feel serendipitous.

I can also see that your fs has both fire and water signs in their chart prominently.

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onismdaydream · 3 months

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no no i see the vision - nanami teaching yuji patience… discipline. yuuji who’s so eager and excited and nanami just reigns him in, its unspoken but nanami is in charge and when his voice cuts through the moans and whimpers as yuuji gets carried away…..

anon i am kissing u omg thank u...

this is so messy but my brain just kept going ! so um ramble under the cut :3

yeah exactly like. the first time yuji meets you, he absolutely falls in love. doesn't even realize it, he just becomes obsessed with you. you just look so cute and perfect.. soft little dog ears and that cute little tail that always wags so fast... you're so affectionate too, licking and kissing yuji as soon as nanami introduces him to you. because of course, if your owner trusts yuji, then he must be a good person.

i think nanami knows he has to go away for a longer mission, knows that he can't leave you alone for that long, so he asks yuji to do him a favor, to take care of his puppy. not only is yuji eager to please his mentor (i thought i told you not to call me that.), but hes always been curious to spend more time with you, so he easily agrees and finds himself packing his stuff to stay with you. (nanami is not letting his sweet puppy stay with yuji in his own apartment - he's seen how yuji lives)

and because you're so precious to nanami, he takes the time to show yuji how exactly to take care of you - what you are going to expect from the pink haired sorcerer. when you eat and what you like to eat, how to help you bathe and get dressed and how you like your hair brushed, anything to make sure your schedule doesn't get messed up. your owner might spoil you a bit, but can you blame him? (i think nanami just wants to take care of someone, so he does spoil and baby you a bit, but you don't complain one bit)

yuji listens intently to everything nanami says, wanting to earn your trust and prove himself to his mentor even more. he blushes when nanami mentions bathing, though the older man says that you should be able to do it on your own, sometimes you still ask for help - something your owner could never refuse.

the puppy-sitting for lack of a better word, goes relatively smoothly. yuji gives nanami updates for when he can check his phone and on the night before your owner comes home, you video call him. nanami's face instantly relaxes as you come on screen, grinning from ear to ear. you tell him how much you love yuji (not as much as you love nanami of course), hugging his arm and pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek, and you ask if yuji can visit more.

and nanami, never able to say no when you look at him with those big eyes and pouty lips, allows yuji to spend more time with you. it works out because nanami sometimes doesn't have the energy after long work days to give you the attention you deserve and ask for. so yuji steps in. yuji has a bit more free time and a lot more energy to play with you and take you out around the city.

but then, your heat hits you when nanami is at work. he asked yuji to check on you and tell you that he'll be home an hour or so late. yuji finds you in nanami's room, hips frantically humping his pillow as you whine and cry. he immediately calls nanami and tells him what he saw (apologizing because he feels guilty, especially because he might've stared longer than he should've..), but instead of getting berated like yuji believed he would, nanami asks him if he could comfort you in some way. just until nanami could get home and properly take care of you.

thats how you ended up grinding your drippy cunt on yuji's thigh, his cock straining against his shorts as he tries desperately to not lose control. nanami said he could do anything that you asked him to (within reason) but yuji still felt guilty, felt like he was taking advantage of you. you whine and pant, drool falling from your mouth as you get off for the nth time, though it's still not enough. you're about to try begging yuji to fuck you again when nanami comes home, your ears instantly perking up as you hear the lock jingle, though you don't run towards him like yuji expected. no, you keep grinding your hot core on him.

and nanami doesn't stop you either. he asks you how you feel, big hands gentle on your overheated face as you cry out for more, tears springing in your eyes. yuji feels entirely out of place, feels like he's intruding, but you bury your face in his neck and plead for him to help you. "p-please, need to be fucked, yuji, please."

you sound so pretty, how could either of them deny you? so nanami instructs yuji on exactly what you like, his fist around his thick cock as he watches the pink haired sorcerer slide himself into you, his eyes fluttering shut at the warmth surrounding his length. yuji wants to move fast, needs to move fast with the way you're squeezing him, but nanami's stern voice makes him savor it. telling him to go slower, to make sure that you really feel everything yuji's giving you. and yuji always listens to nanami (well, as much as he can..), so he does. he slows his hips, full and lazy thrusts that make each inch feel even longer, each drag against your spongy spot even more intense. nanami tells yuji to spit on his hand and rub your clit, so yuji spits and rubs, keen eyes watching your expressions to find the right movement.

the way your pussy tightens around him when you cum makes him grit his teeth, a hiss slipping through as he tries to not bust his load. but god, you feel so good. you look so pretty, too. it feels like an eternity before your walls relax, letting him slip out. he's done this before, always pulls out and strokes his cock to finish, it's what's expected of him. but nanami's voice stops him once again.

"did i tell you to stop?"

#.asks #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kento nanami #yuji itadori #yuji itadori x you #yuji itadori x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #hybrid smut #perce.doc #.jjkai #.anon #💌 anon

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megumiivs · 6 months

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office hours ♡

T.A.!choso x student!reader

mdni 18+ content

ೃ⁀➷ content: p in v, creampie, praise kink, dumbification if u squint, no plot ¡! ❞

how did you get here, bent over the desk, face pressed into the wooden desk and legs spread open like a whore for him? for choso, your T.A. you had come for office hours for fucks sake. but god, the way he was pounding your cunt was too good to make you care about your grade. the homework in your bag all but forgotten. papers that were previously organized neatly on the desk were messily strewn all over the floor, a result of choso’s harsh thrusts.

“fuuuckkk” he groaned, slowing down and pulling out to look down at the ring of white around his dick. “so fucking good, baby. you’re such a good fucking girl.” he slowly slides back in admiring the way your pussy sucked him back in. god, his head was spinning from the feel of your tight, hot pussy. “taking me so well, baby.”

the praise makes you whine as you tighten up around nothing. he slides his hands over your chest, touching and massaging your boobs as he begins to pick up the pace, angling his hips so he could go deeper. you moan at the feeling, bucking your hips back eagerly to meet his thrusts.

“more, cho, please” you cry out. “don’t stop, dont stop.” god, he was so deep. you can feel him hit your cervix with each thrust. the only thing on your mind right now was his thick hard cock that was filling you up so well.

“ ‘m not stopping baby” he responds, reaching one hand down to rub your clit in small circles. “tight ass pussy. ‘s like you were made for me.”

he lifting your left leg up to rest on his shoulder. he pushes back in, bottoming out with one harsh thrust. god you were so full of him you could feel him in your stomach.

you whine again, the tell tale feeling rapidly approaching. you couldn’t do anything but moan is name over and over and over. what were you even here for again? you didn’t know anything anymore. all you knew was choso. his name was a mantra spilling from your lips.

choso leans forward, mouth close to your ear and whispered, “be a good girl and cum for me sweetheart.”

your vision goes white as the cord snaps and you cum. choso groans when he feels your walls tighten. he fucks you through your orgasm, hips starting to stutter as he begins to reach his own high. he thrusts a few more times before he asks, “where?”

no response. you were truly fucked dumb. “where?” he grunts again, trying not to cum too early.

“inside, choso, inside” you respond with an embarrassing whimper. “please, need you” choso groans at the thought of filling you up to the brim and after two more thrusts, he does just that, his cum spills into you in thick hot ropes, painting your walls white.

“take it all baby.” he pants out, working through his own orgasm. “don’t waste a single drop.”

you dumbly nod, too fucked out to truly process what he was saying. he slowly begins to pull out with a groan and you can feel some of his cum begin to drip out of your pussy before he reaches down and pushes it back in with his fingers.

“fuck that’s hot.” he says. you can’t do anything but lay there on the desk, breathing heavily, body sore and brain fried. choso presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“so what did you need help on?”

lilith’s note: lil test work i wrote instead of studying for my midterm whoops!

#˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ lilith’s love #jjk choso #jjk smut #choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x female reader #choso kamo #choso x y/n

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randomshyperson · 3 months

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R U Mine? - Heart Shaped Series

Chapter Summary: A game of cat and mouse begins between an Avenger and a criminal. But perhaps there are no winners, as they both fall.

Warnings: mentions of typical canon violence, hints of abusive past and unhealthy work dynamics, some superhero routine lore, more shapeshifter power mentions, mutual pining, forbidden relationship, some teasing, (first) kiss and then a lot of kisses and steamy make out, some fluff and comedy. | Words: 6.965K

A/N-> How many references to Killing Eve can one put in a story. And also, references to the Witch's Road comics. This here is the extra chapter about their first kiss, enjoy reading.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Series Masterlist

-&-

Before.

"I know what you're doing."

Three weeks prior, Natasha's sentence would have made her jump with fright. Perhaps she would have tried to hide all those files and lie and lie again, until she could convince herself the whole thing was about the job.

But today? Wanda was tired. She had spent the last few hours stumbling into dead ends, no progress on whatever she was trying to do with all that vague information Shield had on you.

So she lifted her face to the redhead who appeared in her room late at night, two cups of coffee in hand, and chuckled weakly at the statement. It was obvious that the drink was an invitation - perhaps even a sign of 'hey, I'm not trying to start a fight. I want to help,' and Wanda accepted without hesitation.

"It's not like I'm doing a good job of keeping it a secret." She retorts to Nat, who smiles before taking the empty space on the bed. Practically all the Shield files - now labeled Avengers - about you are scattered on the mattress. It's a mess, and to Nat, it makes sense that Wanda hasn't made much progress.

"To be fair, for a first-time Investigation, I think you're doing all right." Says the widow after a sip of her coffee. "You covered your tracks and even used an official justification for researching her. Your mistake was involving Vision."

Wanda sighs. "Let me guess, he talks under pressure?"

Nat chuckles, nodding. Wanda rubs a tension point on her forehead. Taking advantage of this, Natasha gestures to one of the files. "I'm not going to tell you what you can and can't do, Maximoff. But this doesn't seem very healthy."

Wanda gives a sad smile, and Nat expects her to defend herself. But instead, the smaller girl sighs. "I know." She murmurs sincerely, forcing a faint smile at the widow. "But I need this, Nat. It's the first time in months that I've managed to think about anything other than Pietro. And I know it doesn't look healthy, but it's all I've got. I'm an Avenger now. Maybe it's just time to get to work, and arrest villains or something."

Natasha frowned at her, absorbing the confession for a moment before rebutting: "Is that what you want to do with Y/N, though? Lock her up?"

Wanda swallows dryly, looking down. "Of course, Nat."

"You're a terrible liar."

The brunette sighs. "I mean it!"

"And I don't believe you." Nat insists in a good mood despite everything. "Look at all this, Wanda. You've been at it for days. Studying her. Did you even remember to eat anything in the last few hours?" Wanda snorts, gesturing to the breakfast leftovers on the dresser in the corner of the room which makes Natasha let out an incredulous laugh. "Wow, a nutritious example you are."

The witch tosses her hair back. "If you've come here to try to babysit me, please leave."

Natasha rolled her eyes and ignored the other woman's stubbornness. She put her coffee down between her crossed legs and started organizing the files.

"You're naturally perceptive and clever, Maximoff. But you lack experience and practice. You need to put together a timeline and find the gaps." The widow began, and masterfully, all the security camera photos, reports from shield agents, and unexplained crimes related to thieves with no identifiable faces began to connect and make sense. "But I must warn you, I did all this years ago. When I started at Shield, your little friend was already some sort of the goose that laid the golden eggs, or stole the gold for the saying to work."

"She's not my friend." Wanda murmured, her gaze fixed on the files so Natasha wouldn't see her blush. The widow ignored the comment and continued talking.

"My point is that I didn't get very far." Nat says with a sigh. "To be honest, it was an insult to my ego. She was just a kid back there. And she managed to flee much more experienced agents. She had endless, untraceable disguises. She doesn't need to impersonate, you know? She can create faces. It makes her almost impossible to monitor. When we met for the first time, it was she who found me." Nat says, swallowing dryly at her own memories. Wanda's eyes widen softly, listening carefully. "I never told this to anyone, but when Clint first met me, he told me that he felt something. As if he knew I wanted to escape. And when I saw Y/N, I had the same feeling."

"What did you do?" Wanda asked and Nat sighed.

"I couldn't do what Clitn did for me, Wanda, I'm sorry." Said the widow sincerely. "She attacked first. And I had to defend myself. It wasn't just protocol, it was all I'd learned to do."

Wanda frowns. "Why are you telling me all this, Nat?"

The redhead sighs. "Because it's important. It means that she doesn't trust easily, and attacks when she feels threatened. She reminds me of both of us, to be honest." Nat comments, getting a small smile from the witch. "Besides, I want you to be really careful if you do dig into this."

"I will."

"I'm serious, Wanda." Insists the redhead. "Careful not to miss a gun hidden in her dress." She remembers the last official report Wanda made, regarding her first mission, the night she simply couldn't stop thinking about, especially after your secret vision to the compound, and the witch swallows dryly. Nat doesn't mind her hesitation. "Careful in a way that you'll use your powers if necessary."

Without looking the widow in the eye, Wanda retorts between her teeth: "I get it, Nat."

"You're not going to carry this on until you look me in the eye, Maximoff. And swear it."

Wanda's stubbornness falters, and she returns her attention to the widow, looking at her seriously. Nat gives her a small smile as she adds, "It's not just Clint who cares about your safety. We all do. I'm not going to allow you to throw yourself headlong into something dangerous just to escape your grief, Wanda. Swear that you'll be very careful, and you'll walk away if it gets too dangerous."

Wanda is surprised by the tenderness, and a little embarrassed. It takes a moment but she finally nods. "I swear." She says before adding. "I want to help Y/N. Like Clint helped you. Not lock her up, like I said before."

Natasha chuckles. "I know, kid. I know."

With the Black Widow’s blessing, she kept digging those files. And Nat didn't lie, you're untraceable. Every time you meet, it's clear that you've let yourself be found. Even with handcuffs on your wrist, you keep smiling as if it was all part of the plan. Judging by the way you always escape from prisons, later going public that some confidential information for the police was stolen, this is easily confirmed.

The Avengers are getting used to the strange persecution, very much because each of them has their secrets. And just like his protégé, Steve Rogers had side missions to pursue Bucky. It would be hypocritical of him to hold anything against Wanda for being after you.

And Wanda couldn't stop. Even after hundreds of dead ends and ridiculous escapes. She had to meet you, and have less than five minutes in your presence with another twelve agents and the whole Avengers present every fortnight when they manage to track you only for you to escape again. She didn't know why, but she had the impression that you looked forward to these moments as much as she did.

Like a little private game of mouse and cat, only you and her were part of.

-&-

There are a hundred things to do in the Capital of Crime.

The most complete list of gambling games imaginable, right down to a mural of targets to be captured.

All these things are at your disposal, and all you can think about is the new addition to the Avengers team.

Wanda Maximoff was born in the country that fell from the sky around the same time that Baron Strucker was playing Pinky and the Brain with your cells in a secret laboratory of the now-destroyed Hydra. A Stark bomb made her an orphan, and after bouncing from orphanage to orphanage, often expelled for getting into trouble with her twin brother, Wanda embarked on protest groups in search of civil rights until she was finally recruited into a human experimentation program that turned her into an enhanced version of herself. She was the only reason for the first time in your life that you wished you hadn't split with Strucker so soon - If you'd still been his puppy instead of the clients he got, you would have met her. You may have become friends.

"She's doing it again." Xu Xialing whispered to Layla, the two engaged in a game of Beat the Hero - a competition of colored cards that contained electronic figures detailing the abilities of real-life superheroes. It was, in a way, training for possible battles in real life, where they learned about their enemies by playing. The two of them were sitting in opposite armchairs, while you were practically lying on the sofa, drinking with a lost look on your face. According to them, fantasizing for the tenth time in a row about the Avenger you met in Italia weeks ago.

Layla giggled when she saw your expression before turning her face to Xu Xialing again. "You know, they say Maximoff has psychic powers. Maybe Y/N is under a spell."

"A love spell, that is." Mocks the Chinese woman, getting a laugh from the other.

You only came out of your trance of thoughts about Wanda with the bell from the private room you were in. Your face changed before the curtain opened, and Xu Xialing was the first to look at the security guard entering, somewhat annoyed at having her private time playing games with friends interrupted.

"Forgive me for intruding, madam. The Countess is here and requests the Sage to join her." The man said, and Xialing nodded in understanding. She turned to you, but there was no need. With a soft leap from the sofa, you got to your feet and took one of Layla's cards from her pile - you threw it on the board and helped her win the game, taking the opportunity to leave the room while the two of them discussed whether the assisted victory had been fair or not.

The Golden Daggers Club was as packed and vibrant as ever. The next round of betting for the fights was due to start soon, and there were a lot of people shouting their bets to the judges, and joining the fight cages, so you had to make some effort to follow the venue's security guard into the special area of the place - where federal agents were given even more privacy to be around.

Contessa Valentina Allegra de la Fontaine was waiting for you alone, but behind a door with six security guards guarding her. Each of them gave you a look of contempt, but you walked past them without any reaction until you were with Valentina in a room with no windows, every inch of which was covered in priceless works of art, many of them stolen throughout history, which you and Layla recovered together in the service of the Ten Rings.

"You wanted to see me, Countess?" was your greeting, softly snarky. You weren't in the best of moods, especially since Valentina had interrupted your rest.

The woman gave you a false smile from the armchair where she was sitting waiting for you. A closed file and a glass of wine lay on the corner table.

"Oh, what a surprise, after your last defeat, I thought you'd given up on Sage." She comments with a certain venom on your disguise, the same one you wore two weeks ago when you went on what she called a streak of bad luck in the Club's fighting competitions, but which Xu Xialing called a distracted lovesick puppy. You try to disguise your clumsiness by clearing your throat.

Checking that the door is closed, you return to your real appearance and Valentina gives you a small but genuine smile.

"What do you want?" you insist, and in response, she pats the file resting on the table. You sigh. "What's this?"

"Last month has been very busy, but I've finally had time to review some of your late missions reports." She begins and you hide your nervousness, knowing full well where this conversation could end. "I apologize for taking so long to check them, darling. I hope you don’t think I’m jeopardizing your learning progress."

"Stop stalling, Valentina, just tell me what the problem is." You retort grumpily but she chuckles, her fingers tracing the paper before she grabs the file.

“Normally, I trust your experience, but I've heard that you've been particularly... antsy in your last few operations. Of course, you've successfully made it out of all of them, after all, we're having this conversation, but for a master of disguise, the increased number of encounters with the Avengers attracted my curiosity. I thought I'd take a closer look at your original encounters with them, and found an interesting passage in your report on Italy two months ago."

The page is already marked and in the next moment, she begins to read;

"My exit was interrupted by the presence of a new Avenger. A woman, perhaps the same age as me. The new, improved one from Sokovia. Average height, brown hair. Green eyes. Intense. Hypnotizing."

You swallow dryly, looking down at your feet. You're grateful to have control over your own body, or Valentina would be able to watch your cheeks blush.

She continues reading. "We faced each other briefly. The girl doesn't have complete control of her abilities, it was a quick fight. I immobilized her and departed in the getaway vehicle. No disguise was compromised, no other witnesses." Valentina narrates, finally raising her eyes from the file to you. "You know what's funny, sweetheart? The Avengers submitted their own report on Sapienza, and Wanda Maximoff describes the encounter with a Shapeshifter in detail. My question is, why are you lying for someone who didn't hesitate to use her special abilities to show her team your real appearance?"

You're caught off guard. A conflict of emotions rises in your chest, from anger to disappointment. It hurts. It's confusing and suffocating, and you feel the urge to start crying. But none of these emotions floats over your expression, your nails digging into your palm are enough to keep everything well buried.

With a soft sigh, you look Valentina in the eye.

"I don't trust the CIA."

Your boss chuckles, closing the file and crossing her legs. It's not exactly her best lie, but it seems to work on her.

"If this is about the Hydra clean-up in the public sector, I can assure you that we're safe." Valentina says. "Besides, your job is to trust me, Y/N. Not the CIA, or the Ten Rings, or any of your contractors. Only me, dear child, must you trust."

You bite your tongue hard, tears almost escaping this time.

"I just..." You try, not knowing exactly what to say. "There was a conflict, and the girl, she beat me. Effortlessly. That energy she possesses revealed my disguise immediately, I had no chance to try another one. So I made a choice, and I omitted the part that I thought would do me any harm. Isn't that what you taught me to do?"

Right answer. Valentina grins, before sighing and standing up. You don't want her to touch you, but she puts her hands on your arms and you resist the urge to pull away.

"I'm proud of you, you're getting cleverer every day. I want you to be this way, Y/N. Strong-willed, resourceful." She compliments you, her hands moving up to your cheeks. You try to smile, but Valentina squeezes your skin tighter. "That doesn't mean you will lie to me. Understand?" She asks but doesn't expect a vocal response. Your nod is more than enough for her to give you a fake smile and loosen her grip. "You're my most valuable employee. I don't want you to put yourself in vulnerable situations without a reason."

Valentina steps away, and you decide to take a chance.

"She's like me." It's more hesitant than you'd like, but it's enough to make your boss raise an eyebrow at you. Swallowing dryly, you continue. "Wanda and her brother were also Strucker's experiments. We are the same. I thought I could-"

Valentina interrupts with a spiteful chuckle that makes you cringe like a frightened child. "The same? Is that what you think?" She retorts in a mocking tone that makes you feel too ashamed to even broach the subject. Leaning her waist on the table, she looks at you. "I know you've been digging through my files on her, Y/N. I don't blame you for being curious, but by now, I imagine you know very well the conditions of the experiments Miss Maximoff was part of. How she volunteered for all that. How can you say you're the same?"

You hesitate uneasily. "I don't mind that she volunteered. War called for desperate measures. I just... I've never met any other of us. Another who survived the Baron. I've been thinking if I could just see her-"

Valentina bursts into laughter, and you fall silent, concentrating so that she can't see your red ears. "See her? Now what's that, huh? Romeo and Juliet of the supers? What an absurd idea, child!" Refutes your boss, still chuckling as she walks away to the table. She finishes her glass of wine in one long gulp, and to your surprise, throws the file in your direction. You catch the item flat against your chest. "The notes the Avengers made about you are on page 24. Read what she said about you, and draw your own conclusions about who you call an equal. I came here to confirm your mental state, and this conversation was enlightening. I'll arrange an assessment."

"Val-"

"It’s not open for discussions Y/N." She cuts you off, a car key already in hand that makes you groan to yourself impatiently. "You're not going back to work until you talk to Doctor Grand."

She leaves without saying another word and you're left alone with the file in your hands. Without hurrying, you flip to the page mentioned earlier and sigh when you find a photograph of Wanda wearing a uniform with the Avengers crest embroidered on it. Below is her statement about the mission.

You trace your fingers over the passage "An extraordinary and dangerous skill from an equally impressive fighter" but hesitate when you read the passages about how she felt scared and unsafe. About how she thought you were aiming at her. About how she felt she failed by not bringing a high-risk criminal into custody.

Your tears finally fall, staining the page before you quickly wipe them away, closing the file tightly after ripping Wanda's photo out.

It was time to wrap up loose ends and get back to your perfect record.

-&-

In the fake drawer hidden on the floor under your bed - safeguards for someone whose apartment is frequently visited by a two-faced countess - you kept some personal things. Hydra's last record of you, small souvenirs from missions, and a photograph of Wanda Maximoff.

And this morning - and any other morning really - you were supposed to ignore that drawer, leave any weapons at home, put on a presentable outfit, and meet Valentina in the lobby promptly at 10 o'clock. She would take you by car to Dr. Grant's office who would do a standard assessment of your mental state that would tell whether or not you were fit to return to work.

But instead, you took the photo of Wanda out of its hiding place and put it in your pocket. You stood up, walked through your closet, and chose the least flashy backpack you owned. Then you armed yourself with three different types of knives and two pistols in a chest holster, very similar to that of American detectives. And speaking of the police, your drawer of false documentation provided by Valentina was studied without haste until you had in your pockets the identity of a Shield agent who never existed but was meant to be a little tribute to the job you were performing today.

With your disguise ready, you left the apartment two hours before your scheduled meeting with Valentina, and you had barely boarded the ferry when she called you.

"Our appointments aren't something to be skipped, young lady." Stated the woman seriously, but you gave her a weary sigh.

"I don't wish to see Doctor Grant."

Valentina chuckled, as you handed your ticket to the clerk passing in the corridors. On the other end of the line, she then spoke;

"You're not getting away with this, Y/N. I'm not authorizing your return to work until Roland confirms to me that your mental state is stable for you to continue."

You prop your feet up on the seat, switching your cell phone to another ear. "Val, I'm not running away, I promise. I just needed a break. Give me a few days, okay? Reschedule the visit, I'll be there. I'll even be there early."

She pauses thoughtfully, you can hear her breathing. And then she sighs in defeat and you smile. "Okay. If it's any encouragement, your next service is already being prepared. It's something you've never stolen before, and I'd like it to be yours. Of course, if you prove suitable."

A few weeks ago, the temptation would have been too much and you would have turned around and gone to the appointment just to win Grant's approval and be cleared for the job. To prove not only to Valentina, but to the world, and to any other colleague, that you could complete that mission.

But now you let out a short laugh, and that surprises Valentina enough for her to keep quiet. "Reschedule for the end of the week. I guarantee that I'll have Dr. Grant's approval and you'll have your order in no time."

The promise seems to be enough for her, and after another sigh, Valentina hangs up. You put your cell phone away and return your attention to the now-stamped train ticket to New York.

The trip didn't take long, and within a few hours, you were in the bustling city. Especially today, at the inaugural Heroes of Earth celebration event, Manhattan was almost chaotic.

With fans and journalists from all over the world filling the streets that had been closed off for a sort of open-air Comic Con, you had no trouble at all going unnoticed in the crowd. You wore a disguise, of course, but you didn't have to. A few minutes into the fair, you really did look like a tourist, with your Avengers sweatshirt, cap, and colorful glasses.

The knives in your backpack were well hidden under the amount of superhero souvenirs you got.

You were trying to choose between an Incredible Hulk smash-burger or a portion of Thor's worthy chicken when the bell announcing the photo session with the Avengers was about to start.

Your appetite disappeared, anxiety taking over your whole body at once.

It was time to move.

The queue was huge, as was to be expected. At least, most of them were there for the best-known Avengers. Thor wasn't even on Earth, which meant that the other five originals were competing with each other over who got the most autographs. The new members, like Wanda, the Falcon, or Vision, were given presentation stands but had much more free time at the event.

You tried to ignore the pang of pride when you saw that among the new members, the queue of people to see Wanda was the longest. A considerable number of children were very excited to ask her to do magic tricks.

Your strawberry milkshake - Black Widow's Special - almost fell out of your hand when you finally saw Wanda leave the curtains dividing the dressing rooms and join the autograph table.

She wasn't wearing the soft hoodie with the Avengers symbol from the photograph you sneak a peek at almost every night, nor was she wearing the pathetic disguise she wore the first time you saw her. No, somehow, she managed to look prettier. Like all her teammates, she was wearing an outfit similar to the official fighting uniform, probably designed just for the event. With a black tactical outfit covered by a red jacket, the gloves that didn't cover her fingers were probably your favorite part.

Despite her relatively unfriendly uniform, Wanda offered such lovely smiles to the people who came to greet her that you thought the milkshake made you sick, judging by the way your stomach and heart were unsettled.

When the Meet & Greets began, you had to go to the ticket booth and buy a single ticket in cash; to meet Wanda, of course.

It would take place back in the fair's improvised dressing rooms, and after waiting for almost forty minutes, you were finally guided inside. Your backpack wasn't searched, perhaps because your weapons were hidden by Ten Rings technology, a gift from Xu Xialing on your last assignment, and when it went through the X-ray at the entrance, all they detected were the countless fair toys you had acquired. And the knives hidden in your body, well, it's obvious to say that when it comes to changing aspects of your anatomy for any situation, passing a security search was quite easy.

"Miss Maximoff will be here in a minute. She had a little problem with her costume, the children who came in before you caused a little milkshake accident."

One of the organizers informed you, and you gave her a kind smile, commenting that the Black Widow special was essential, even if it might cause minor accidents. The employee chuckled before going to answer a call on her communicator that could have been your intentional flooding of one of the toilets to occupy as many of the staff as possible.

Wanda's dressing room was the most intimate environment of hers you've ever been in. It didn't have many things, of course, but for someone who only had access to government documents, it was paradise.

Curious fingers traced all the belongings you could reach, from more comfortable pieces of clothing for her to change into during the event, to different types of tea and books, until you found a music device.

The password protection on a Stark Industries MP3 player made you laugh to yourself. "What a distrustful little witch." You murmured affectionately, stowing the item in your jacket pocket and moving over to the schedule board.

You had already read the row that marked the start of the Meets, probably described there and in all the other dressing rooms, when your gaze caught a small notebook forgotten in one of the armchairs.

You got the chance to take it in hand and smile at the sketches on the first few pages before the item was suddenly lifted and pulled out of your hand.

"Sorry, but this is private." Wanda grabbed the item out of the air, but you stood there, static like a frightened animal, unable to breathe properly under her gaze. She seemed to realize that she had been too harsh and huffed out a laugh, the notebook clutched tightly against her chest. The sound made you swallow. "I shouldn't have kept you waiting, I guess you got bored. Sorry about that. Let me put this away, and we can, um, get started."

She didn't use magic to return the book to a safe place, you didn't know that yet, but Wanda was still learning to trust her powers. And if she could help it, she usually didn't use them.

She approached you, to put the book away in a bag that you didn't have a chance to peek into, and the sudden movement made your body react in alarm. Your back hit the schedule board, and Wanda frowned, stopping in her tracks with an almost hurt look on her face.

"You don't have to be scared. I'm not going to hurt you, you know." She murmured with the tips of her ears red. "I'm just going to put my notebook away, you see." The backpack floated towards her with a tug, and Wanda hardly met your gaze after that. She tossed the bag into a corner of the room and fiddled uncomfortably with the edge of her blouse.

She was no longer wearing the outfit she'd worn before, she was wearing a comfortable set, too soft and domestic for you to be calm-minded about anything.

You forced your brain to work because you thought the whole thing was getting ridiculous.

"I'm not scared." Your voice comes out very hoarse, so you clear your throat. Wanda raises her eyes, finally, and the green irises make your cheeks warm. You don't hide it from her. "As a matter of fact, I'm not the one who usually gets scared when we meet, am I, Maximoff?"

Taking the time she needed to understand, you removed your colored glasses and cap, your face changing back to its original appearance. Wanda sighed shakily as soon as she recognized you.

"Hi, Y/N." She greeted, too sweet for you to do anything but smile shyly, forgetting for a moment exactly what you had come for.

"Hello, Wanda." You tried to sound just as gentle, but you must have done a poor job, to blame it on your body that doesn't seem to be working properly. Wanda swallows dryly, her hands moving slowly in the air. You watch the unhurried gesture - the way her fingers draw the air, and how the items of disguise float away to the armchair, and in your hands appear handcuffs that don't prevent you from moving them, and don't hurt either. The most you feel is a tickle.

"I've come all this way, just for you to put me in chains, little witch." You try to tease her, and you think it's a victory the way Wanda tries to hide a smile, approaching with her head down until she's close enough to touch you.

Her hands should be gripping the magical handcuffs, but instead, they hold yours. Wanda sighs.

"You can't be here." She whispers, meeting your eyes, and you think it's ridiculous that you made any plans at all. You could never do anything to harm Wanda, and that was just the truth. "Then why are you?"

Unlike her, you don't hide your smile. You shrug as if your heart wasn't thumping in your chest, and revel in playing with Wanda's buttons.

"I was in the neighborhood. Wanted to say hi." Your casual reply makes her snort impatiently.

Her hands release yours, and you raise an eyebrow at Wanda's audacity to start searching you.

"Wow, take me on a date first, love." You joke, but despite the new color her cheeks acquire due to the joke, the fond nickname, Wanda doesn't stop. She gropes in your pockets, reaches into your jacket, and grimaces with disapproval at every illegal item she finds. The false documents, the Shield badge, the guns. The MP3 is in the front pocket and Wanda gets a little closer to reach it, enough so that you have to lick your lips trying to control the instinct to break the distance. She just looks so kissable and smells so good.

She offers you an incredulous look at the stolen item, which floats back to the table as she gropes for the other pocket. Finding the train ticket, she lets out a short laugh.

"Six hours of travel is not being in the neighborhood." She comments, raising her eyes to you.

"What do you want me to say?" You retort with a little smile, discourteously glancing between her eyes and her lips. "That I couldn't help myself and had to get on the first train to see you again? That I can't even go back to work because I can't stop thinking about you?"

There's this thing that Wanda's eyes do. The pupils get huge, and the green darkens. And she looks at you as if you were something to be devoured in every detail as if you were worth admiring. As if you were worth any of her time.

She speaks again, so low and hoarse that you wouldn't be able to hear her if you weren't close.

"Your thoughts are loud. Are you always so hard on yourself?"

You swallow dry, caught off guard. Your hesitation makes Wanda sigh. She looks ready to apologize when you nod.

"It doesn't matter, every time we bump into each other, you make me feel different. Better. You look at me as if you can see more. What do you see, Wanda?"

She sighs deeply, and her hands move to touch your face. It's too gentle, and affectionate in a real and true way that you never experience. Your body goes rigid, not knowing how to handle the tenderness, but Wanda doesn't catch any request for her to stop touching, so her hands continue to hold your cheeks.

"I can see your anger, just as I can see your fear. I see the thief, and the murderer, but I can also see only you. No disguises, no lies. The person you are underneath it all." She says, swallowing dryly as she lets her gaze fall to your lips. "This is the person I let get away. And the person I'd like to meet, if you'll let me."

Your chest is heavy with confusing feelings. Your traumas beep in unison, your defenses beg you to push Wanda away and flee before the rest of the Avengers decide to show up.

But instead, you return watery eyes to Wanda and gasp softly; "Why? Why do you care?"

And Wanda tries to lie. "I think you could use a friend."

You chuckle dryly, pulling away from the touch. "Hard pass." You mutter, but Wanda doesn't let you move away entirely. She decides to risk everything.

She grabs your chin and tilts your face towards her. It's a miscalculated kiss, you both flinch and gasp at the first contact of your lips and being taken by surprise makes you lose your balance in the middle of the movement to get away from her.

You fall into the armchair, and Wanda should apologize, but she doesn't even bother. She pushes your tense shoulders and straddles your lap, this time, when her mouth meets yours, it's much hungrier and more determined.

The handcuffs disappear into thin air with the first gasp that leaves her lips, and you waste no time in grabbing her waist, roughly pulling her down and holding her tight against you as your mouths move together. It's a passionate kiss full of urgency, charged with all the tension you've built up.

Your tongue slides into her mouth without warning, more experienced than Wanda, you manage to get a whimper out in no time. She wants to shrink away from the sound, but your hands slide down to grab her ass and pin her down onto your front, and suddenly all she can do is moan.

It seems absurd that you've gone a lifetime without kissing Wanda Maximoff when you both seem molded to do this with perfection.

You don't even move apart to breathe, a battle of restless hands and hungry mouths panting against each other. Wanda begins to grind herself into your lap in search of friction and you let out a sound you didn't know you could make.

Everything is suddenly so hot that Wanda doesn't hear her surroundings. She doesn't hear the curtain or the footsteps. But she definitely hears the machine man's surprised exclamation.

"Oh, forgive me, Wanda." Vision's back is turned the second he catches a glimpse of what's happening in that armchair.

Wanda jumps away as if she's received a jolt, and you groan in displeasure at the interruption. Despite the way every cell in your body seems to be vibrating with euphoria, you manage subtle changes in your face that prevent the Synthesized from recognizing you if he decides to turn around. "I didn't mean to interrupt-"

"Vis, please leave." She demands with ragged breathing, her face bright red. Wanda looks neither at you nor at Vision.

The man clears his throat, stuttering. "Of course, Wanda, I'm so sorry." He says, but although he mentions leaving, he doesn't. Stopping just before the curtain, he risks a glance over his shoulder. "There was a forced distraction with criminal indications in the western sector, the fair has already been interrupted. The captain has asked everyone to gather for a patrol check, in case there's an attempted attack. I just wanted to warn you. It would be appropriate to send your... friend away." explains the machine, exchanging a quick glance with Wanda before leaving the dressing room.

You'd like to kiss her again, but Wanda sniffles at Vision's departure and you frown in a mixture of concern and confusion.

"That's why you're here, isn't it?" She deduces annoyed. "To try a bloody attack on a children's fair? God, I’m so stupid. You’re obviously using me to distract your partners-”

But you stood up with an impatient sigh for the anxious and nervous conclusions of an avenger who has been caught in the act.

You grab Wanda again and kiss her hard enough for her to lose her balance, and she ends up pressed against the schedule board, and then the coffee table, each kiss more desperate and heated than the last.

Your thigh presses between hers, and Wanda practically meows at the friction. You love how responsive she is to your touch, and you try to push a little further under her clothes, quickly addicted to attracting more sounds.

And you're almost to the edge of her bra when you're interrupted again.

"Jesus, Maximoff, what the hell is going on here?" Unlike Vision, Natasha Romanoff is much more serious and determined to put an end to the whole thing. And she cares little about what was happening against the table. You hide the change in your features on Wanda's shoulder, while also trying to control your own breathing, somehow much more aroused than before. "We're working, Maximoff. There may be terrorists on the perimeter and you're here, well, I'm not judging, I'm just saying there's an appropriate time for everything. I'm sure your friend will survive if you let go of her mouth for a few hours. Who knows, maybe next time you can meet in a more appropriate place?"

When you finally look at Nat, you can see that she's hiding a teasing little smile. You're glad that Wanda is making friends.

And unlike you, who doesn't mind having been caught not once but twice by the Avengers, Wanda looks like an embarrassed tomato who nods quickly while her magic does the work of adjusting your half-open clothes and leaving the objects you bump into in order again.

"Of course, Natasha, I'll send her away. I'm sorry." Wanda practically pushes you out, dragging you to a more secluded area at the back of the dressing rooms.

She tries unwillingly to resist your eager hands or the quick but intense kisses you steal from her on the way.

"You have to go." She struggles to gasp, her hands pushing your shoulders to stop the whole thing or she wouldn't be able to think.

Wanda with her hair disheveled after a proper make-out session, her face flushed and her lips swollen is too much for you.

"Fuck." You gasp and she swallows.

"What?"

You don't know what to say, nothing seems enough. She's awakened something in you that you didn't know existed. Suddenly, the idea of staying away from her seems an impossibility.

"When will I see you again?"

She frowns at the question, laughing nervously. "We shouldn't have seen each other even today."

But your hands pull her by the waist. "Nonsense. We should definitely do this again.” Your lips trail down her jaw, to the sensitive points on her neck that you're trying to memorize. She sighs, and struggles to keep her eyes open, but only for a moment before she pushes you away again, laughing shyly.

"Please, darling, I need to get back, my job-"

"There's no attempt attack, I flooded a toilet so I'd have time to see you." You clarify quickly and Wanda has to shake her head and laugh incredulously.

"You're nuts."

"Honestly? Yes. I think I've figured out what was wrong with me over the last weeks. You’re driving me nuts, Wanda Maximoff. I can't stop thinking about you." You retort quickly, not caring about the irregular beating of your pulse, nor the way she blushes heavily. "I need to know when I'm going to see you again."

She looks back into the dressing rooms and can see that Natasha is coming out through the curtain. She approaches you at once to give you one last intense kiss and whispers goodbye on your lips as you part.

With every inch of skin that Wanda touched vibrating and your heart pounding in your chest, you only remember to regulate your powers and return to a disguise a good few minutes after she has disappeared from sight, and hope that no security cameras saw you there.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #heart shaped series #wanda maximoff series #elizabeth olsen x reader

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slaybestieslay946 · 3 months

Note

Hey! I love ur blog and I saw ur accepting requests for luke castellan, (I’ve never requested a fic before so I’m sorry if I’m doing this wrong lol)

Could I have a fic where reader comes to camp in the middle of the night after getting attacked by monster(doesn’t matter which monster) but after they’re in camp and moved into the Hermes cabin they’re distant and angry because theyre pissed off at the world and the gods. Luke being luke though doesn’t give up on trying to make the reader feel at home and tries his hardest to get them out of their shell. UNTIL reader gets claimed by Zeus and gets moved to the lonely Cabin 1 and can’t sleep so they go back to Hermes cabin and Luke lets them sleep in his bunk w him and fluffy ending of such

Damn that was a lot it’s totally ok if u don’t want to do this!

Thank you!!!

I really love this idea, and I'm so glad you love my blog! Hope you enjoy!

Mystery Girl

MASTERLIST

word count: 2700

pairing: luke castellan x zeus!reader

warnings: minor depictions of violence, readers kind of a bitch but like not really.

a/n: reader is so unbothered i kinda aspire to be her

Late at night, you stumbled through the camp's threshold, leaning on Aspen, your protector. He was equally leaning into you, and you couldn’t tell whose blood it was soaking threw your shirt, yours, or his.

You could see a few buildings at the bottom of the hill, and a few of them had lights on.

“Help, please!” You shouted, weakly raising your arm to catch some sort of attention.

Aspen did the same, his exclamations a mix of real words and pained bleats.

Eventually, people began emerging from the buildings, rubbing their eyes in exhaustion, trying to work out what was going on. You and Aspen continued to shout for help, shuffling slowly down the hill, praying that you wouldn’t bleed out before you reached the bottom.

Finally, someone seemed to realise you were in trouble, and a boy about your age began jogging up the hill towards you. His face was mostly calm, and he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, halting when he saw the blood on your clothes and the used spear in your hand.

You instinctively let go of Aspen, and rushed forward to seek help.

“Please, help me.” You pleaded desperately, losing your balance and stumbling forwards towards him.

“Alright, alright.” He said, catching you by the arm and holding you steady, before shouting down at the campers below, “These two need to get to the infirmary! Someone wake the Apollo cabin, yeah?!”

He then turned back to you, holding you steady by the arms and trying to assess the damage.

“It’s alright, yeah? You’re safe now, we just gotta get these cuts checked out, hm?”

You tried to nod, but found you couldn’t move your head, or your body. You tried to speak, tried to tell him that Aspen needed help too, but your mouth couldn’t move either.

And then your vision went black.

When you woke up, you thought you were in heaven. It smelt nice, homely. Not that you really knew that home was supposed to smell like.

It was warm too, and you felt yourself sighing contentedly. If this really was heaven, then you didn’t mind being there all that much.

After a while, you decided it was time to open your eyes, maybe go and explore the afterlife.

But when you tried to sit up, you felt a sharp jolt of pain that snapped you back to reality. You let out a small hiss in discomfort, lowering yourself back into the bed.

Slowly, the memories began to come back to you, leaving school, Aspen forcing you onto a road trip, nearly getting killed by a monster, and finally passing out on the hill of a ‘camp’.

Heaven sounded preferable.

You took in the room. It seemed like any old house, a dresser in the corner along with a wardrobe and old floral wallpaper that even covered the ceiling. Until you noticed another bed beside yours, with Aspen asleep on it, and one beside his.

You remembered the words of that boy who’d run to you, and you figured this must be the infirmary.

“Hey, Aspen.” You whispered, turning your head to the side and trying to ignore the sting of your injuries.

“Aspen!” You called again, raising your voice, but still he didn’t hear you. He must still be asleep. Lucky bastard.

You huffed, sinking fully back into the pillows and waiting for someone to arrive. Thankfully, it didn’t take long, and soon enough a young boy was coming in, holding several canisters of liquid.

“Oh, you’re awake,” He grinned, “How’s the pain?”

“Bad.” You replied, groaning at the thought.

He chuckled, “Not surprising. You got some nasty scratches from that monster. Here, drink some of this, it’ll fix you up.”

He offered one of the canisters to you, and you took it, regarding it with a certain amount of suspicion.

“What’s this?”

“Nectar. It’ll help, trust me.”

You relented, deciding that it was worth the risk if it would get rid of some of the throbbing in your back.

And he was right, almost immediately, you felt soothed, and as you drank more, you began to feel energised, like you could conquer the world.

“What did you say this was? Nectar?”

“Yep. Food of the gods.”

“Where’d you get this stuff?”

“Oh, we get shipments from Olympus every month. You won’t find that at your local grocery store.”

“Woah, woah, woah.” You held up your hands to stop him for a minute, “What do you mean Olympus?”

The boy's eyes widened, and some kind of realisation struck him.

“I don’t think I should be the one to break this to you.”

Just a few hours later, everything had been explained to you, and you were kicked out of the so-called ‘Big House’. Nice of them to do that, considering a centaur had just dropped the bombshell that you were the child of an ancient Greek god.

To be fair though, you probably should have clocked that something was up when you were being chased by a mythical beast, but then again, you did have your hands full.

Now, you were sitting on the front steps of the porch, waiting for some kid to show you round the camp.

“Hey, mystery girl! Good to see you’re feeling better.” A voice called out, and you looked up to see the very same boy who had come to your aide on the hill.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I’m all good.”

“Cool. Nice to meet you, by the way. I’m Luke.”

“Y/N.”

“Right, so, I’ll start the tour.” He declared, flashing you another bright grin which you feebly returned.

He started the tour off at the dining pavilion, then showed you the amphitheatre, then the strawberry fields, the archery range and the lake.

Finally, he introduced you to each of the cabins, skipping over the empty cabins 1, 2 and 3.

“And this,” He gestured to the eleventh cabin, “Will be where you’re staying.”

“Woah.” You said, stepping back, “What do you mean staying? I can’t stay here.”

He looked at you blankly, “You don’t really have much of a choice, mystery girl.”

“Yeah, I do. I can leave whenever I want, you can’t do anything about it.”

“You wanna get killed by a monster? Because if I remember right, you came awfully close a few days ago. That’s why you can’t leave.”

“Well I guess I’ll just have to take that chance. Appreciate the tour and everything, but I’m going.” You then turned on your heel and began to walk away.

There was no chance in hell you were staying in this camp, and if it had to be over your dead body, then so be it.

However, your desertion was halted by Luke grabbing you by the hand and pulling you back.

“I’m not kidding, Y/N. You’ll die as soon as you step past that barrier. Just,” He sighed, seemingly exasperated, “Stay for one night. It’s not that bad here once you get used to it.”

You glared up at him, weighing your options. He seemed pretty serious about this.

“And you can’t leave Aspen when he’s still in critical condition?”

That broke your resolve.

“Fine. I’ll stay until Aspen wakes up. Show me my bunk.”

He grinned, and turned back to Cabin 11, showing you inside.

Turns out, Aspen waking up wouldn’t be such a close deadline as you thought. As it turned out, he’d been hit by some kind of poisonous claw from the monster, and had been put into some kind of coma.

So now, as prior to your agreement with Luke, you were stuck here until he woke up. Which could be next week, or next year for all you knew.

And yeah, you felt bad for the guy ‘cause he was in a coma, but it was seriously messing up your plans of leaving camp.

Because you hated camp.

The Hermes cabin stunk, and it was constantly noisy. Probably because there were so many people in there all the damn time.

You also sucked at most of the stuff around camp.

You weren’t exactly nurturing, so it was a no to the infirmary and the strawberry fields. You were an awful shot, and when you had a go in the forges you dropped a mallet on your foot. You were still recovering from that one.

It seemed the only thing you were even slightly good at was fighting, mainly with the staff Aspen had lent you during the fight with the monster outside camp. Still, you weren’t great, unlike Luke who had insisted on taking you under his wing.

He sat with you at every dinner and breakfast, and always seemed to be there when you turned a corner, or found a moment of peace.

Yes, it was very kind of him to try and settle you in, but it was pretty futile, considering all you had wanted to do ever since you woke up was leave, consequences be damned.

The one saving grace to your boredom was capture the flag. Luke had told you about it on your first day, and it was a game you remembered playing as a kid, and really enjoying. Apparently they ran a game every month, and this coming Sunday would be your first time playing.

The day of the game arrived, and for the first time in your two weeks at camp, you were in a decently good mood, and of course, Luke took notice of this.

“What’s got you so happy, mystery girl?”

“Nothing. Besides, why do you keep calling me that, you know my name now, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but you're just so private and mysterious. I’m surprised you even told me your name.”

“I wish I didn’t, Castellan, maybe you wouldn’t be here to bug me all the time.”

“Ouch, don’t be like that. You know I’m great company really.”

You didn’t reply to that, instead rolling your eyes at him and returning to the task of tightening your armour, struggling a bit with the straps.

Luke quickly came to your aid, much to your chagrin, helping you adjust the breastplate so it fit properly.

“Thanks.” You sighed reluctantly, quickly stepping away from him to grab your spear.

“No problem.”

Soon, the game was well underway, and you quickly realised that you had been given possibly the most boring job, that being guarding the perimeter. Not that you could really blame your team leaders, you were the newest member and logically the most inexperienced. But still, you’d been hoping for something a little more exciting.

Every now and then you heard the odd shout further on in the woods and raised your spear, but you never actually caught sight of anyone from the opposing team. Or your team for that matter.

You really had been given the short straw.

After another hour of standing there, you were about ready to quit all of this completely, throw off your armour and escape camp, agreement with Luke be damned, that was until you heard hurried footsteps, and someone panting heavily coming from behind you.

You quickly whipped around, to see a girl from the Ares cabin, holding your flag, standing about 50 feet away.

Then you heard another step of footsteps, and there was Luke, around the same distance away, holding the opposing team's flag.

You really didn’t want to be caught in the middle of something this exciting.

They both began to run towards the threshold at top speed, and you stayed standing between them, unsure of what to do. Should you step back and let Luke do his thing, or should you step in to stop the girl. She looked pretty terrifying.

You whipped your head side to side, continuing to debate, and in the midst of your dilemma, you realised the girl was much closer to you than Luke was. Fuck.

You had to stop her somehow, but you obviously could just slash blindly at her, you didn’t want to behead her.

And then, suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck a nearby tree, falling directly in her path, and she leapt back to avoid it, stumbling and also falling to the floor.

Luke kept running, swerving around the fallen tree and onto your team's territory, cheering as the red flag shimmered and turned blue, and the conch sounded.

You quickly ran over to the girl, clambering over the tree in an effort to help her up.

She looked up at you in shock and confusion, but her eyes seemed to be focused on the space just about your head.

“What’s wrong?”

She pointed above you, “He claimed you.” She stuttered out.

You looked to where she was pointing, and saw a lightning bolt shining above your head.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”

Of course you had to be Zeus’ kid. Just your luck, a forbidden child, with some stupid prophetic destiny.

If you ever met your father, you’d be sure to give him an earful about his part in your conception.

Almost immediately after capture the flag, you were announced to the camp by Chiron, and then promptly herded into the empty cabin 1.

And you never thought you’d say it, but you missed cabin 11. Sure, it was a mess, and the kids in there didn’t know how to shut up, but at least it had some semblance of life, unlike your new home. It was barren, and empty, and you hated it.

It was even worse now that you had your own permanent bed. Before you’d had at least a pipedream of leaving camp and going off on your own again, but now that was entirely gone. Chiron would never let you out of his sight ever again, not now that you were a child of the ‘Big Three’. You were so screwed.

You tossed and turned for hours in bed, unable to sleep in the unfamiliar environment, and, strangely, uncomfortable with the crushing loneliness you felt.

You’d never felt lonely before. Your whole life, you’d been pretty much alone, but that was by choice. This time it was by force, and you felt isolated from everyone else at camp. Suddenly you regretted your refusal to make friends.

So, your feet naturally carried you to the only person you could kind of call a friend, and you weren’t surprised when you landed outside Luke Castellan’s window.

You gave it a light tap, and he opened his eyes, giving you a sad smile as he saw your face through the window. It looked like he hadn’t slept at all either.

“Can I come in?” You mouthed through the window, and he quickly nodded, reaching up to open it and let you in.

“Thanks,” You whispered, stepping down onto the hardwood floor.

“No problem. Having trouble sleeping?” He asked, patting the spot beside him. You gladly sat down.

“Uh, yeah. It’s really empty there.”

“Hm, sure is. You sure you didn’t just miss me too much?”

“Maybe I did Castellan.” You declared, shrugging your shoulders as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world to say.

“I’m sorry though, Luke. I’ve been kind of an asshole ever since I got here.” You said, looking down at your muddy shoes.

“Hey, I get it. It’s an adjustment, that’s for sure. I’ve dealt with worse from newcomers.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, even if it doesn’t seem like it.”

“Anytime.”

You both fell silent for a moment, listening to the snores of the kids around you before he piped up again.

“Hey, I don’t mind you staying here tonight if you want?” He said, his voice slightly awkward. You paid it no mind.

“I’d like that.”

He moved to the other side of the bed as you removed your shoes, rolling onto the bed beside him.

You were both silent again for a while, until Luke’s voice yet again came from beside you.

“I’m gonna have to come up with a new name for you now, huh?”

“What, I’m not mysterious anymore?” You asked, feigning offence.

“Not now that we’re best buddies. I’m thinking… Sparky!”

“That is god awful.”

“Exactly.”

You snickered under your breath at his idiotic sense of humour, and allowed yourself to sink into the bed beside him.

And for the first time, you didn’t want to leave.

#fanfic #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #writing #pjo #luke castellan #fluff #x reader

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kalims · 2 years

Text

‎˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "what the—please put me down,, it's not a wedding nor am i ready to get married!"

bridal style but it's not a wedding,

or in which, they carry you bridal style.

characters. dorm leaders.

includes. gn reader, this is a small treat for over 4k followers :) since I still wanted to give yall one

cw. reader impied to be injured/sick.

note. I rate sumeru archon quest a solid 9.7/10 and yes, I only finished it yesterday LMAO. u wondering why malleus' is different? thats right he's just special. <3

— riddle rosehearts

"you okay there?" you stare at riddle knowingly. eyeing his red face that was neither from embarrassment nor anger. the man in question nods stiffly, adjusting his hold on you in a way that makes you fly for a second.

riddle grits out an answer. ignoring the way he was painstakingly slow on taking you to whatever destination. gods.. he's never been so mad at the fact that the infirmary was so far. "I'm doing just..—" he trips on a small pen that was just coincidentally in the middle of the hallway, nearly tumbling forward and leering you to the ground but he catched himself at the last moment.

and pretended nothing just happened but he definitely just spared a searing look towards the innocent pen. "—fine."

"it's fine. I can walk." you eventually nudge him however he seems more determined hearing your words. noticing your particular look riddle panics. "w-wait.. it's alright! I'm doing okay!"

it's not that you're light, or heavy at all. but in general riddle is far more impressive in the.. magical aspect, in terms of heavy lifting in heartslabyul. he leaves it to trey, cater and other residents who are far more competent than him.

you shake your head, he was being oddly intent with this. "if I can't even do this when you are in need of care how will i learn in the future?" riddle frustratingly sighs. sure, he can admit he was probably gonna sleep tonight and wake up with sore arms but the very least,, you'd see him as a strong person. inside and out.

that was quite suggestive, not in the way you're thinking but rather.. "oh? so.. you see a future with me?" placing a hand on your chest you smile at riddle who wastes no time dropping you. you reminisced a long lost.. experience when you fell because honestly, the pain you felt in your bottom was excruciating.

he glares at you despite the steam animatedly coming out of his ears. "is this a joke? I—" riddle paused as if just noticing your clear pain even though you wear a tight lipped smile on your face.

then he panics again, crouching down. "I'm sorry.. I was careless."

meanwhile. I can't tell if all the pain I'm feeling right now is worth it for his vision of the future and concern.

you continue to stare at the wall in a daze, completely silence as riddle is in an inner monolog regretting his life choices.

leona kingscholar

"oi. are you paying me for this, I don't give out service for free."

leona says but you merely squint at him. "since when was money something you needed?" you point a finger at him accusingly but he just shrugs, annoyingly enough. "dunno. might need it. you'll pay me back somehow. I'll make sure of it." he makes a show of trying to intimidate you with his stare.

you flail your arms around in frustration, pretending to not notice the stare he directed at you when you accidentally hit him in the face. you definitely did not want to be under leona's crazy favors again.. "but im gonna die if you don't bring me there?!"

"it's just a fractured rib. ah. right, tell me. who did this to you." leona plays it off cooly but you know full well what his words imply. now,, should you destroy someone's life or spare mercy on them? meh.. either way you probably didn't have a choice because ruggie was there and the hyena was gonna rat it out to leona anyways. "some random from diasomnia. it's not that serious."

maybe it was a bad idea mentioning diasomnia cause leona has this scary look on his face right now and you're sure he's gonna be 100x more merciless on them since they're in the dorm of someone he hates. "not that serious? look at you. you look like you're gonna die from every breath and move you take." he huffed.

how ironic. "didn't you say that it's 'just' a fractured rib?"

leona just ignores you but he's slowed down considerably, which you'd like to think for your sake when he realizes that you indeed,, are struggling whenever you move.

the silence was quite awkward so after a while you decide to speak.

"anyways. if you don't need money just tell me what you do need so I can get it over with as soon as possible."

leona doesn't look at you until you're at the very door of the infirmary itself. since when did you arrive? time flew by quite quick or he's really just that athletic.

you expect not to get an answer till he places his hand on the knob, preparing to open it and then freezing. then, he looks at you finally. "you. i need you to get better so you can come back to me."

you were about to have an inner crisis— scratch that you were having an inner crisis when there's someone clearing their throat and a seemingly long object making contact with a palm. you both turn and see crewel looking quite furious. he points at leona.

"pups and kitties don't get along. scram little one, I'll take care of them."

leona looked like he just didn't care but definitely iffed by crewel ruining the moment.

you hear something about audacity and kitties.

azul ashengrotto

"i... they'd be better off with someone else." azul trails off. looking away and clearing his throat, crewel spares him an unimpressed look. looking thoroughly bold enough to start whipping his little stick around for a spin.

crewel glares at him. "you are the only person in here ashengrotto. do you think this is a choice? would you rather them writhing on the floor then?" at his azul's lips grow thin and he's trying quite hard to avoid the man's narrowed eyes.

he points at jade; who sits at a chair right next to you. the man in question lifts his head, somehow probably feeling the finger pointed at him. jade does look like he already knew it was azul and grins. he feigns confusion. ".. what about jade then..? he's far more equipped to carry them."

azul debates, strangely intent on not being the one to carry you to the infirmary. crewel drags a hand down his face. "no. that pup is injured as well, are you blind? leech has a broken leg." the man points at the poorly done bandages around jade's leg, an indication that the one who did it wasn't exactly a professional.

you just feel like a bystander to this weird conversion going back and forth.

jade places a hand over his knee and rubs it slowly. "ah.. yes, it's quite the chore for me to walk. imagine me carrying someone else, it must be painful." you look back and forth toward the two octavinelle students.

azul looks like the mixture of bursting a nerve and embarrassment. jade looks at him knowing full well that he could have broken another limb and be able to walk just fine. but it's quite funny azul trying to hide a.. fact from you.

"no i—"

crewel shakes his head. "it is final. you carry them there or else."

to his relief crewel ushers jade to follow as he walks out the door. but his friend still had the audacity to smile at him as he passes through the door.

when I get my hands on him I'll...

"it's okay. you can't carry me, right?"

at your seeming reassurance azul flushes and looks like he's at a loss of words. before he can speak you already beat him to it. "jade told me that you can't do much heavy lifting. in your human form that is." you laugh.

azul looks down in shame and embarrassment. perhaps he could scam I mean.. gain a new client that was willing to swap strength with him?

"that's alright. just keep in mind that I'll be looking forward to see how strong you are in your mer-form."

he flushes completely.

wait how was he gonna get you to the infirmary..?

kalim al asim

jamil is in a dilemma.

he isn't usually someone to tolerate another person's presence but your annoying little self still somehow wormed your way into his heart—non consensual of course. he doesn't like worms at all by the way.

so naturally he's a little.. concerned, just a little that kalim insists on being the one to carry you to the infirmary and as far as jamil knew, kalim hasn't exactly been working on his physical stature with the exception of the painfully long, hot walks in the desert.

"jamil! it's okay. really, I got this." kalim flashes the man a bright smile which only further raises his concern or whether or not you're gonna arrive in the infirmary with more injuries than you were supposed to.

it's not that jamil doesn't trust kalim—actually he doesn't.. but the the boy can be quite clumsy and as much as kalim seems to be willing to give you about a thousand gold bars if you asked for it he just isn't convinced.

plus you're as equally stupid.

and the only thing you and kalim don't know about each other is that you're utterly whipped and jamil also didn't consent to knowing this. so he resists the urge to roll his eyes when you nod. "yeah! I'm sure you have other vice-dorm leaders stuff to do!"

"see?!"

if it meant picking between taking the risk and safety of his admittedly, close friend what would he choose?

yeah he's not dealing with this. jamil closes his eyes. "then kalim would have 'dorm leader stuff' to do as well so I trust you to go there yourself?" which is typically jamil's silent threat but totally with love.

kalim looks confused. "I... do?"

miraculously enough he turns to you and you both start acting like you didn't just sprain your knee. "I'm a dorm leader too.. doesn't that mean i have dorm leader stuff too?" your face scrunched up in distaste at the thought of even more work meanwhile kalims brightens.

he seems ecstatic and you do not. "we're the same!"

jamil tries to cut in. "guys please. can we just get (name) to the infirmary first..?" he sighs quietly. wondering what he did in this past life to receive such a troublesome one.

you both ignore him.

"YES. if they finish treating you we can do dorm leader stuff together, let's go!"

you won't be that stupid to turn face at the relevation, rig— oh nevermind you are.

in the end you thankfully did not arrive to the infirmary with an additional injury but you certainly did get a whirling headache when you did from how fast kalim's carpet moved.

jamil swears to never do this again.

vil schoenheit

you're a little worried. if there's anything you're absolutely sure of it's that vil deserves to do everything full of luxury; it lives up to his very existence! some dirt like you compared to a literal diamond? oh geez, you don't even wanna start.

sure you're no better than one of his fans that fell in love with his looks however you can't deny that it was the thing that got you entranced in the first place. though you will admit that vil had a way with words that got you reeling in the second you met.

there's about a hundred things you'd list as to why you like him a lot.

which is why you're doubtful and refuting his offer to carry you. vil must have other better things to do than deal with you just cause of a small little slip. "it's fine. I can do it go do your thing." though vil stares at you pointedly as if looking for confirmation that you actually just turned him down.

"are you looking down on me? I can do this."

in a panic you frantically shake your head. "no!"

you'd never even dream of looking down on vil. if there was anything that was on the bottom it'd be you while he's WAY up there.

vil softly drags his palm against his forehead, careful to not smudge the makeup that lays there. he resists the urge to glare at you—which he apparently could not, since you already avoided his gaze the moment he cast his eyes on you.

"then what is the problem? I do not see one. do you perhaps don't like me?" vil rolls his eyes at you and the sheer audacity in his words to assume that you don't almost has you quaking in your boots!

honestly what's there to not like about him?! sure his mindset about beauty is a little.. strange but it's definitely admirable.

this time you shake your head frivolously, so much that you were actually starting to get dizzy. "absolutely not. don't even say that, I like you the most." you say seriously and your words actually halt vil right in his movements.

he stares at you again and you realize how risky what you said is.

so you throw up your arms and attempt to change the subject. "well. not that it matters, what im saying is! you don't need to dirty yourself for me."

vil raises that judging brow. "no? if you think so highly of me then surely i should treat the one i like most the same."

me..? you think dumbly.

in your flabbergasted state vil takes advantage of you actually end up in the infirmary still stunned to silence as he casually fixes up your appearance.

idia shroud

idia can't tell if he just fell from sheer anxiety or just he couldn't really do it.

but right now all he wants is to dig out a hole, crawl into it and close it then refuse to leave it till the rest of humanity is wiped out from existence because he'll never forget about the embarrassment he's feeling right now.

right, let's rewind! it just so happens that one of the things crowley gave you as work for free residency in ramshackle is that you'd have to assist professors as an assistance of sorts. simple really.

but then no one noticed the way you deliberately freeze in the middle of walking, pretending to sight see outside when your surroundings are literally spinning and your head is pounding from it. there's the peak of the pound then it slowly calms down.

to your unfortunate it didn't mean the pain went away.

it actually hurt you to stand up. more so deal with the bundle of immature third years who aren't any better than the other lower years! you've seen many younger people be more mature than these guys and it's infuriating.

though idia noticed.

it's hard not to when he has no one to talk to, no one to occupy his attention with except you.

so with his full attention of course he noticed the concerning behavior you displayed. and idia debated whether or not to snitch but he has crippling anxiety and his head is just full of doubts. eventually he came to a conclusion that he won't because it'll 'probably be a mistake'

and he did make a mistake, which is not snitching on you. to think he used to say snitches get no bitches. his silence ended up with you passed out on the floor, and your loud thunk completely silenced the whole room.

and now he's the one being ordered to carry you because he 'understood' the lesson best compared to his classmates—and you both knew each other better.

he doesn't even wanna try at all but why the heck isn't ortho answering his comms?! this is a real life EMERGENCY!

between letting you burn up here and possibly humiliating himself idia chooses the latter. his little prophecy did turn out right since when he got you, and lifted you up he tripped immediately.

"good heavens help me..." idia mutters to himself. unable to wait to see his bed and hide in it for the span of the following weeks.

well atleast when you woke up; first thing you saw was idia grinding on your account with his phone since you graciously gave him. he flashes you a wobbly smile and you wonder why he looks exhausted.

malleus draconia

a school play.

you were picked for a school play.

WHY?!?!? was the first thing you screeched in your mind and you didn't even care that there might actually be a mind reader in the room that would hear your screaming and suffer a concussion from how loud and chaotic it is.

either vil wanted to make you better or terrorize you for beating the shit out of him in that stadium since he casted you as one of the main leads who suffers a secret love from the misunderstood villian.

which would've been okay (it's not) if malleus wasn't the misunderstood villian! seriously, who made this play script?

it's not that you hate him it's just that there's a lot of romance scenes. and your heart will absolutely not be able to take the cheesy lines and start bursting into rainbows and stuff.

and the fact that you just kind of, liked him.

wait how did vil even get him to join the play...? you're sure he would've gave up after meeting sebek.

this time the scene is running away from the mages who found out that you made contact with the misunderstood and is now chasing you to most probably imprison you.

set in a snowy plain, you don't know where vil gets all the stuff to make it so realistic cause even you're questioning if this is some hologram or actually reality.

and now you're literally being carried by malleus as the icy weather bites back at you. and of course as a natural response you just sneakily snuggle into his arms more, you hope he really just doesn't notice.

the lines you memorized grow a little hazy but you manage. "are they gone?" you peek behind malleus shoulder. how nice was it to marvel at the world from his height? you don't know how, or when but there's a warmth on your fingers that has you realizing how numb it felt from the cold.

malleus rubs your hands with his own. sharing a quarter of his warmth to you and you're not sure if the warmth should have traveled all the way up to your face. then, he answered. "yes, my love." the nickname wasn't probably meant for you, but rather your character but it still sends you to orbit.

he cradles your face—wait is this part of the script? you don't remember.. malleus runs his thumb just below your cheekbone, pressing gently and once again making you find out about a graze you never really felt till he pulled away and showed you the blood.

didn't vil say there wouldn't be any real life action involved?!

you can spot his eyes just getting a tad, bit darker. "I'll lead you to my tower, stay there and do not move. I just have to deal with.. something." he kisses your forehead.

you resist the urge to scratch your chin.

"cut, cut! all the things you both did wasn't in the script at all." vil facepalms but the blonde beside him looks far more happy. rook flashes you a grin. "encore, encore! what touching improvisation. impressive!"

you eye malleus with concern. "where are you going?"

"to deal with something of course."

but.. didn't the practice just end?

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secret-sturniolo · 18 days

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i love you more - chris sturniolo

based on this request - hi! i saw that u we’re taking requests, so what about chris x reader smut. maybe reader has a bad day and just needs a little extra love, so she goes to chris for comfort and it’s a gentle sex type thing? possibly w a daddy kink, but only if you’re comfortable with that

warnings - smut, (don't like, don't read), slight daddy kink, soft sex, p in v, unprotected sex (be safe please)

a/n - reupload :)

I fought back the tears in my eyes as I got into my car after a long day at work. I had been berated not once, but twice by customers over something that not only wasn't my fault, but also out of my control. Normally, I could take a little negativity from people, but today I was overtired and emotional and all the patience I had flew out the window. The icing on the cake was that my boss also blamed me for making the customers upset, so I was yelled at for a third time that day. By the end of my shift, all I could think about was my boyfriend Chris waiting for me at home. I knew it wasn't good to drive when you are crying, so I held everything in until I got back to the triplets house. I just wanted to be wrapped in Chris's arms.

I pulled into the driveway and opened the front door, where Chris was waiting for me on the couch. He jumped up when he saw me, and I burst into tears.

"Oh baby, what's wrong?" he asked me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

Through tears, I had told him everything that had happened to me today.

"I just want you, Chris." I mumbled into his chest.

"Yeah?" he asked me, pulling back and tilting my head up towards him.

Without a word, I pressed my lips against his, our tongues immediately fighting for dominance. After a while, Chris pulls away.

"Matt and Nick won't be back for a while. You wanna take this to my room, let me show you how much I love you?" he says, looking into my eyes.

"Please."

He grabs my hand and pulls me with him as we walk down the stairs to his bedroom. He gently lays me back onto his soft comforter, kissing me once again.

"This is all about you, okay y/n? I want you to feel good." he says against my lips.

"I love you Chris."

"I love you more than anything, y/n."

As we continue kissing, he slides my shirt up over my head and unclips my bra with one swift motion.

"God, you're beautiful." he says, kissing down my chest, taking my nipples into his mouth.

Before going any further, he slides his shirt off and steps out of his sweatpants, leaving him only in his boxers. He hooks his fingers into my underwear, and I nod, giving him permission to go further. He swiftly pulls them down before diving into my folds.

"Fuck, Chris!" I whined, as he began licking at my clit.

He hummed against me, sending waves of pleasure to my body. He adds a finger as he continues eating me out, stretching me out in all the right ways. I felt a familiar feeling in my stomach, like a knot beginning to tighten.

"Chris, I'm gonna cum!" I announce.

He keeps going, indicating that he wanted me to cum. My vision gets spotty as I reach my climax, my hips thrusting up into his face. After I ride out my high, he pulls away and looks up at me with a smile.

"Oh my god, that was amazing." I tell him.

"Ready for some more?" he asks me.

"Don't you want me to suck you off?" I ask, confused.

"Oh, of course I want that but tonight is all about you, y/n. I want to make you feel good."

"I can't argue with that!" I giggle.

I watch him pull off his boxers, his dick springing up, finally free from the restricting fabric. He had a drop of precum on his pink tip, a sign of how much he was turned on. He teases me, running his tip through my folds and against my clit. It felt good, but I wanted more.

"More, Chris!"

He leans down to kiss me.

"You ready, princess?"

I nod at him, giving him doe eyes.

He slowly pushes into me, giving me a chance to warm up to his size. He lets out a groan as he bottoms out. He gives me a moment, then begins slowly thrusting in and out, almost pulling out before bottoming out again. This was different than our usual sex, but in this moment I didn't care. I felt so loved and safe.

"Can you go a little faster?" I ask him.

"Yeah? You want it faster?"

"Yes, please daddy."

He groans at the name, picking up the pace a little, still wanting to keep it soft and slow. He attaches his lips to my neck, sucking hickies into it while still thrusting in and out of me. We continued, with him whispering I love you in my ear over and over again. I felt myself getting close again.

"Chris, I'm close."

"Me too baby, come with me." he says, his thrusts getting sloppier.

We were both a moaning mess as we came together. I felt Chris's hips sputter and his dick twitched as he came inside me. His movements came to a stop before he pulled out, laying beside me.

"Chris, I love you so much."

"I know baby, I love you more." he replies, catching his breath.

We didn't even bother putting our clothes back on, we were both too tired. He pulled me into his side, and I laid my head against his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. He pulled the blankets over us, and I sighed with content at the warm, cozy feeling. The events of my day had long been forgotten as I laid with the man I loved, and I knew that as long as I had him by my side, everything was going to be okay.

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets imagine #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #secret sturniolo

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veryinnovative · 2 months

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fifty shades of black

~2k words. nsfw. bratty experienced sub james and inexperienced dom regulus. jegulus microfic/snippet based on this post which i do recommend reading for some context so u kinda know what's happening since i have apparently decided to just go unchronological and do whatever the fuck. though, regulus has gotten some more experience at this stage of the fic.

The chime of a bell rings out as James enters the shop, bringing with him a gentle end-of-winter draft and his customary breeze of self-confidence that makes Regulus' skin break out in goosebumps all over. It’s late February, still ways from spring, but the potted flowers lining the shelves swoon at him just the same.

James Potter had that sort of effect.

“Hello, love,” he greets him, donning that dazzling smile like he’s swooped the sun out of the murky evening skies and swallowed it whole. Regulus could endlessly wax poetry about him and his mouth—the color, the plumpness, the self-assured slanted uptilt of his lips.

But he doesn’t, no. He watches how James approaches the counter like a spoiled cat who’s so sure he’s about to get what he wants. Because James doesn’t learn, or refuses to, at least. Especially if last night was anything to go by.

“Have you been good, Potter?”

James shakes his head and frowns at the name, the huff he lets out almost indignant as he staggers for breath. His cock is slumped against his stomach, terribly weepy with sad, thin dribbles of cum that are the aftermath of a ruined orgasm.

“And do bad boys deserve to cum?”

He shakes his head again, furiously blinking through the tears. Over a month ago, Regulus would have caved underneath the crushing weight of guilt. He would have bitten his lip and worked James’ cock up again, a victim to crocodile tears and the angelic drawl of a voice he couldn’t resist. Fortunately, since then, Regulus had developed a significant tolerance and remained impervious to his relentless pleading. All the while maintaining that convincing pretense of stark indifference that had resulted in a whole reversal of roles. Because he had James whining the past couple of scenes, sputtering and cursing threats, fighting against binds, and biting on Regulus at every given opportunity.

Tonight, James doesn’t fight back, because his cock is spent but still wholly unsatisfied. There’s a glint of fear in his eyes, together with arousal and a glowing spark of pride.

Regulus yanks him by his curls. “But I let you, and what do we say to that?”

James’ mouth parts around a soundless gasp. “Thank you.”

Regulus quickly dispels the thoughts with a barely noticeable shake of his head. The last thing he needs are the flashing images of James’ sweat-sheened skin and quivering legs, the needy pitch of his voice when Regulus’ hand dragged down his chiseled chest towards—

“It’s rude not to greet customers.”

Blinking his vision back into focus, Regulus glares up at James who is sporting one of his knowing smiles like he can pry into Regulus’ brain and tell that with one look at him, he had been sucked into a vacuum of explicit and very vivid images.

Of course, other than being a multi-billionaire and head of Potter Enterprises, James Potter is also a telepath. Add it to his extensive list of redeeming qualities.

Regulus sighs, pinches his nose bridge, counts to five, and looks down at the register because he doesn’t trust what may come out of his mouth if he stares at James for a moment longer. “What do you want?” On cue, James’ lips part, and before he can answer with something unequivocally witty, Regulus interrupts him, “Other than me. An actual order.”

As expected, James’ mouth falls shut, though the amused smile never really disappears. “A latte, please. Double shot. Pump of caramel.”

The vocal emphasis on pump would have drawn a reaction out of Regulus a month ago, but he has spent enough time to no longer feel bothered by certain commentary. Instead, he casts a quick glance at the clock before jotting down instructions on the paper coffee cup.

“It’s getting late, you’re having a decaf.”

James’ eyebrows shoot up to his hairline before he looks at Pandora who is manning the bar. She grins at him, waiting for confirmation, undoubtedly bemused by their interaction and Regulus’ slow growth into a role, and chuckles when James offers a meek nod. “What he said. Decaf.” Pandora quirks an eyebrow and he hastily adds, “Please.”

That was also Regulus’ doing, teaching the spoiled brat to say please. It did him good to see the newly acquired habit extend into other areas of life.

“You still want a pump of caramel syrup with that?” Pandora asks innocently, not bothering to mask a laugh when James looks at Regulus for permission, again. It’s become somewhat mundane: those brief, fleeting moments where they seamlessly fall into their dynamic.

Regulus nods and Pandora is off with a hum, letting the ground beans fill her portafilter as she makes a start on his order. James reaches for his wallet but Regulus shakes his head, preventing him from taking it out with a single gesture. “No need. It’s on the house.”

Maybe freebies from a non-coffee chain act as personal affronts, seeing the frown etch itself deeply between James’ brows and the way he petulantly retrieves his hand from his pocket. This, they still need to work on: James’ spending habits and Regulus’ aversion to receiving gifts or anything material, really. Nine days ago he had opened his door to a wreath of expensive, rare flowers imported from various parts of the world and Regulus had given him an earful about it. Still, the harsh reprimands weren’t enough to discourage James’ attempts to shower him with expensive gifts because just two days ago he suggested getting Regulus an unfathomably overpriced watch. Quote on quote suggested as if the stupid box wasn’t peeking at Regulus from where it had been poorly concealed.

So, James had resorted to acts of service, the expensive kind.

While James is ridiculously rich, Regulus barely scrapes enough together to pay his rent. He is working two jobs at the moment, a fact that irks James greatly for more than just one reason, and luckily none of which involves tarnishing his reputation by having a dom who is terribly broke. That had been one of Regulus’ insecurities, and James had been very quick to dissipate them.

“So, dinner?” James asks after taking a sip of his coffee, though not without casting Pandora a quick, grateful smile.

Regulus nods as he undoes the ties of his apron. Officially, he’s still got twenty minutes on the clock, but it’s quiet and Pandora assured him that she could close up alone and that for once, Regulus deserves a night off to himself.

His encounters with James have been hasty the past couple of days, especially considering his hectic work schedule and demand to cover shifts. And as respectful as James was when it came to Regulus’ decisions, it was very apparent he struggled not sticking to Regulus like adhesive every waking moment.

“Wait,” comes James’ voice when they finally make it out of the store and towards the car. He rushes past him and reaches for the door. “You need to let me do this, remember?”

“I can open my own door, James,” Regulus sighs.

“And I can order my own coffee,” James retorts. He waits for Regulus to slip into the seat before closing the door and rounding the car to get to the driver’s seat.

Weeks, and for some reason, Regulus struggled more with the non-sexual side of their dynamic.

“It’s not only the sex aspect, Regulus,” James had told him the second day after they signed their contract. “It’s about serving and seeing to your needs. Pleasing you in more ways than just one.”

“Isn’t a dom supposed to do that?”

James chuckled but swallowed all humor down when he saw the tight line of Regulus’ pursed lips. “I mean, this isn’t the movies, you know? There are so many more provider subs than there are doms. You’d be surprised, honestly. Most of us have all that we need and are looking to relinquish that control for once. Also the money, I suppose. It feels good getting you gifts.”

“I am not about to be your accountant and track how much you spend on me, James. There’s a limit.”

This time, James fails at stifling his laugh. “No need, I already have someone tracking my funds. But feel free to give me a good spanking if I splurge too much on unnecessary things.”

“Like towing my old car and getting me a new one?”

James shrugs at the memory. The very one Regulus had been livid at him for and Horace had to spend a whole day trying to get back a battered old Toyota. “Spending money on you doesn’t count.”

“And what if I say it does?”

“Then I’ll have to be a good boy and listen.”

And James listened particularly well. Well, at least when he could get something out of it. Because strung-up James who had not been able to get his hands on Regulus properly for any extended period of time, listened very, very poorly considering Regulus had specifically instructed him to drive them to this cozy, small falafel spot that undoubtedly put crack in their garlic sauce seeing how everyone’s pitas always overflowed with it.

Instead, the car veered off the main road and right on the one that led it to James’ apartment. One of his apartments, at least. The one closest to them.

No complaint from Regulus, truly. In hindsight, he might have confused his appetite for something else entirely. Definitely has, now that his mouth is being eaten by James as he’s clumsily led away from the front door and further down the dimly lit hallway. James’ tie is undoubtedly still in the elevator where Regulus had yanked it off for better access to his chest.

“You,” James breathes against his lips as he yanks Regulus’ shirt off his head, “have been returning my gifts.”

He’s hoisted up against the wall, practically shoved against it with how a picture frame rattles off and falls onto the floor. Regulus allows his head to loll back with a gentle thud as James’ mouth works down his throat, hot and greedy.

“I told you—” his words are interrupted by a sharp hiss when James decidedly makes use of his teeth rather than tongue, working marks around his clavicles. “I don’t want expensive gifts.”

There’s a muffled sound of dissent against his neck before James brushes his clothed erection against Regulus’, drawing out moans from the both of them.

“I told you,” James gasps out through his labored breaths, tongue laving across the sharp line that is Regulus’ jaw before coming to tug onto his earlobe, “I want to spoil you. Be good for you.”

Regulus had chided James for that too, told him he had to learn other ways that could earn him Regulus’ praise. James hadn’t liked that in the least. He didn’t like being told no. Not then, not now. Not ever.

James drives his hips forward again, chasing after the friction and pressure. The hold he has on Regulus’ thighs is bruising in a way that's guaranteed to leave marks.

“Am I being good?” James’ hot breath fans against Regulus’ ear, the skin around it wet from where his mouth had been, slick with spit as James keeps sucking the soft, tender spot below.

“Tell me.” James’ hips jerk where they’re slotted between Regulus’ thighs, uncoordinated now, bordering on frantic, his voice desperate, “Say that I’m being good for you.”

“Be quiet,” Regulus hisses as he bucks his hips, painfully hard against the seams of his jeans and aching for some relief. He's panting as well, trying not to lose himself in the vortex of delirium and instead regain some semblance of control. There's the wall behind his back and James' sturdy chest pressed against his own, the frenzied rattled beating inside his ribcage that Regulus feels against his.

James whines against his neck, still pathetically rutting into him and Regulus shushes him, carding his fingers through the sweaty, tangled curls that stick to the dewy skin of his neck before grabbing a fistful.

“You want to be a good boy?” he whispers into James’ ear.

James frantically nods against his neck and starts grinding against him harder, moaning unabashedly when Regulus meets his movements and tugs onto his hair.

“Then put your mouth to good use.”

#jegulus #james potter #regulus black #jegulus fanfiction #jegulus microfic #starchaser #sunseeker #james x regulus #ino microfic tag!#i cant believe i wrote this right after cursing out my deadline #i fr just write when im stressed and surrounded with exam woe

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save-the-villainous-cat · 14 days

Note

Could you do uh some story about villain who betrayed hero but then regretted it, and hero hates his guts for it? I just want to see the world burn.

If u don't want to , that's fine, love ur writing, keep shining queen

“You…” The tears in the hero’s eyes blurred their vision and their mind alike. Their hand shook around the blade as they tried to let their own weight the work, instead of actively pushing it into the villain’s chest.

But the villain was just as determined as always, just as strong. None of them were happy about the situation. The hero saw it in their eyes.

Why did it have to come to this?

“I’m sorry,” the villain whispered and the hero could feel how their resistance weakened. Their weapon was already slicing up the villain’s suit.

For the first time, the hero didn’t have a plan. Their mind was full of rage and urged them to finish the job.

With the villain out of the picture, these feelings would go away. They would be able to sleep at night, they would be able to move on and get into a relationship. They wouldn’t dread the hours.

But they couldn’t. They couldn’t kill them, no matter how intense their pain was. They couldn’t kill this person who had shared a bed with them. Who had cared for them. Who had loved them.

Right before the blade could cut through flesh, the hero cursed and tossed it away. Tears of rage and grief ran down their cheeks and they could barely form any words as they sat on top of the villain and broke down into a million pieces.

Their tears fell onto the villain’s chest as their trembling fingers clawed at the villain’s suit. They wanted to make them suffer, they wanted to make them feel the kind of pain that they had experienced, that they were still going through.

But the hero knew violence wouldn’t ease their mind.

“Leave,” the hero said eventually. Their voice was shaking. “You have to leave.”

“Please, I am sorry. I didn’t lie about my feelings for you.” The villain’s voice was calm and calculated as so often but the hero could hear the little bit of desperation that came through.

“No, you have to leave.” The hero dried their tears with their sleeves. It was as if their heartstrings snapped. That kind of pain was completely different from all the wounds the hero was used to. Torn flesh and broken bones — all of that didn’t even come close to what they were feeling now.

“I am sorry, okay? I am sorry for lying. I’ve fallen for you, I cannot help it. I wasn’t supposed to but I did and I — I think about you and I miss you and it wasn’t supposed to be like this, okay!?” The hero shook their head.

“Leave the city,” they said. They had no other choice.

“No,” the villain said. Their eyes widened and instead of their calm demeanour, they panicked. They sat up and the hero stood up, ready to go. For the umpteenth time, their heart squeezed together until blood dropped. “I won’t leave you a second time. I don’t care if you stab me to death or poison me or beat me. I don’t care if you torture me. I won’t go. I will stay with you this time. I will make it up to you. Whatever you want. Tell me what to do and I will obey.”

“I don’t want you here,” the hero answered. “If you love me, you’ll be gone by tomorrow. You will never come back.”

“No, please.” The villain stood up and reached for the hero. Their hands found the hero’s forearms and for a second, the hero was back in their bedroom, waking up next to them. They were stitching up each other’s wounds. They were kissing at the kitchen table.

The hero pushed them away.

“You’re not welcome here anymore.”

“You know as well as I that we belong together,” the villain said. Despite the shock in their eyes, they seemingly tried to keep it together. To use reason instead of emotions. The hero cursed themselves. Even when they hated them, they knew them. They knew every single habit, every single detail. “This will haunt you.”

“You already do.” The hero paused and took one last look at the villain. “Don’t you ever come back.”

#kinda hate this but wtvr #BAM EXILED #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #angst

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toruro · 1 year

Text

— ✧ red (k)nights

pairing. xu minghao x reader

description. minghao is your knight in shining armor. literally.

tags. smut (18+), so much fluff, royal au, princess!reader, knight!minghao, secret relationship (kind of?!), minghao’s finger pieces from the super mv …

outfit inspo. minhgao's armor is as shown in the pics, his robes are similar to the light brown ones worn in their inkigayo performance, & reader's robes are of similar design to their 2nd outfits in the super mv!

fic playlist.

w/c. 6.7k

a/n. i'm usually not into royal aus or any au in general that isn't modern, but i had so much fun writing this and i think my mind has changed ... so i hope u enjoy! comments/reblogs are always appreciated c:

“You’re upset,” Eunji notes, walking into your room as sunlight peeks through your silk blinds.

Grumbling, you slowly push yourself off the mattress and lean against the headboard as you rub your eyes. The soft browns and golds of your room are starting to sink into your vision as you adjust to the light, murmuring, “You didn’t knock.”

Eunji sighs, patting her hands down on her apron after setting down your black robe. “Your father doesn’t have any rules about walking in without knocking. And besides, you always lock the door if it’s necessary—if it isn’t locked, I assume it’s alright for me to walk in.”

“What about my rules?” you huff, finally slipping out of bed so Eunji can help you slip into your daytime robes.

“I don’t suppose you’re the king?” she responds as you groggily make your way up to her, your nightgown wrinkling at the ends.

“Eunji,” you whine, throwing yourself onto one of your plush lounge chairs in front of her. “I’m too tired,” you grumble when she points at the robe, again, signaling you to put it on.

“You’re upset,” she corrects, lifting the clothes and unwinding them for you as you begrudgingly stand up and slip off the dress, leaving you only in your undergarments.

“He’s still gone,” you whisper quietly, lifting your arms so Eunji can slip in the sleeves from behind you, moving in front to help tie up the flat, golden drawstrings on the front into bows.

“Away. He is away, not gone,” Eunji says with a pat on your shoulders, adjusting the edges and collar of your velvet robe.

“What’s the difference?” you mutter once she’s done.

“The difference is he will be back,” she explains simply, taking a step back to admire her work. “Now, let’s get you down for breakfast? I wouldn’t want to be caught making you late for your meal by gossiping about your—” she pauses. Eunji is among three of maybe your only friends in the entire kingdom, yet she still bites her tongue, still holds back. You used to resent her for it, but now you understand it’s only natural—after all, it is her job to take care of you, and being careful is just what she has to do. But right now, Eunji is your friend, not your maid, and what she follows with only confirms that fact—“your boy.”

Your lips break into a bright grin at the mere name—your boy. You should feel childish—Minghao is so much more than a boy. He’s a gentleman, he’s strong, he’s confident—he is so much. But after all of that, after his sword is yielded, after all his armor is stripped, Minghao is yours—your boy.

“Will you let me do your hair?” Eunji interrupts your thoughts, holding up a few hair ribbons from your large vanity across the room. You grimace, shaking your head.

“I feel like I might go bald every time you do,” you tell her. Eunji gives you a stern look and you let your shoulders sag. “Fine, but please be gentle. I’m already under so much stress, I can’t have any more pressure on my head.”

“Stress?”

You shrug, a small smirk poking at your cheeks. “Oh you know. Just my boy.”

Eunji escorts you down to the dining hall after raking all your hair into some tight updo. Wincing as you pick at the ribbons, she scurries off when you sit down to order the chefs to present you breakfast.

“Good morning, Princess,” a familiar voice greets, Mingyu placing down a steel plate littered with an array of fruits. “What would you like this morning?”

You watch Eunji who re-enters as you formulate your response. “I’m not really hungry right now, if I’m being honest…” you sigh.

“Don’t let her get away with that!” Eunji calls out from the other end of the room, and you cross your hands over your chest as she walks over. Mingyu gives you a concerned look, and Eunji continues. “She’s saving her appetite for when she plans to sneak out in the evening!” she says in a half whisper, half yell sort of voice.

Mingyu’s eyes widen when he looks down on you. “You actually snuck out that time? I thought you were just bluffing so you wouldn’t have to have breakfast with your cousins!”

“It was both,” you grumble as you roll your eyes. “I’m sorry, but they’re insufferable—the both of them! And then…” your voice trails off, “Mingyu you know your food is great and I love it but there’s this fruit stall down in the civil grounds and—”

“You snuck out for fruit?” Mingyu gasps, stepping back. Pointing at the platter in front of you, he says, “I should have you know these are harvested from the finest farm in the kingdom.” You stick your tongue out at him, glancing at Eunji who is giving you a funny look. Mingyu catches on, and his eyes narrow. “Are you keeping a secret from me? Oh my god—you know I hate being left out of things.”

“You have a big mouth,” Eunji murmurs and you laugh along in agreement.

Mingyu frowns, swiping the platter away from you as you reach for a grape. “Hey! This is no way to treat a princess,” you pout.

“Tell me what’s going on then?” he pleads, and you glance at Eunji who seems to take it upon herself to spill the beans for you. Leaning in, she motions for Mingyu to come closer so you can all lower your voices.

“She went to see her boy,” she whispers.

Once again, you can’t help but let the grin break out onto your face. Your boy.

Fuck, you really miss him.

Him, being the man who followed you many nights ago as you tried to sneak out of the castle grounds. It’d been a boring few weeks and you overheard Eunji gushing to one of the other maids about a festival that took place in the civil grounds.

You’d heard of it before, and even showed up to the festival occasionally over the years, but it was only ever for a sparring moment—to sit and look pretty, wave hellos and goodbyes before you were being dragged back to the castle.

So when you heard that Eunji was planning on using one of her few, sacred days off, you just had to know what was so exciting about it—your temptation exceeded your ability to follow the rules.

Slipping into some old brown robes you used to wear for your dance training, you wrapped a shawl over your head and over the bottom half of your face in hopes to conceal as much of your identity as possible.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Or, well, maybe you could. You’d fantasized about this moment for ages, never really having the drive to go through with it though. That is, not until now. Still, you’d played this chain of events too many times for anything to go wrong. You had thought about every possible chance of something going wrong, and right now you were certain that you had planned against it.

Foolproof. Your plan just had to be foolproof.

So when you snuck off that night, when the deep oranges of the sunset turned to red and soon to black, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that things would go perfectly fine. That you’d be able to run through the gardens, through the militia grounds, and into the civil grounds, slip in and out of the festival, and back into your bed before anyone could even realize that the princess wasn’t in her bed.

Silly you for not accounting for him.

Him, being the man who was out in the militia courtyards, donned in his training robes as he read a book under the dim light of a flickering, yellow lantern. Him, being the man you thought wouldn’t recognize your figure as you scurried through the pathway and towards the exit to the civil grounds.

You were foolish, and Minghao was perceptive.

You hardly were in the crowd at the festival for more than half an hour before a strong hand tugged at your wrist. Considering yelling for help, you opened your mouth to scream, but not before a large, warm hand clasped over your mouth, trapping in any noises you made. He was gentle with the way he pulled you to a quiet place behind the wall, and even under the dim, crimson glow from the festival, you’re able to make out his face when he finally releases you.

His face was no stranger to your eyes, as his duties as a performance knight had him on and off palace grounds consistently. Xu Minghao. You remembered the name, and watching the scarlet hues fall on his skin, you were reminded of just why his face has not left your mind—why you recall him, and not any other knights.

The redness casted a sharp shadow over him, sharp jawline seeming further whetted under this new glow. Minghao’s dark and shiny hair hung perfectly to shield his gorgeous eyes from the bright lights from around you, and you find yourself growing mesmerized by the way he gazes down at you so … passionately.

Finally breaking the silence that stuffed the space between you, he spoke, “What are you doing here, Princess?” Unexpected of the concern that laces his tone, you were taken aback, mouth falling slightly agape as you wondered why he chose not to scold or reprimand you.

“I wanted to see the festival,” you finally managed to whisper, tearing your eyes away from the handsome man in front of you to look behind at the celebrations taking place all around you. Minghao studied your face for a few pensive moments before sighing and nodding.

He surprised you again with his next, quiet words, “I can show you.”

Looking up at him with bright eyes, you beamed.

Sneaking out to your “fruit stall” doesn’t work, not when Eunji is on your tail. You huff and puff when she sits you down in your room that night, but then she’s whispering into your ear about how his team will be arriving the next morning.

That night, your stomach churns with the anticipation of seeing him, touching him, holding him. It’s been too long, and all you’ve been left with for the past weeks is the ghost of his touch against yours, imagining it’s Minghao when you hug your pillow every night.

You don't get an ounce of sleep, of course, but when you wake up after dozing off to the bright, morning sky, you feel nothing but excitement bubble up in your stomach. You ask Eunji to dress you in your robe of finest silk, and she grins, feigning ignorance as to the reason behind your request.

“This would look nice, don’t you think?” you murmur, holding up a silver dangling hair pin.

Eunji walks over, inspecting the little accessory you’ve picked out. “I don’t understand why you’re putting so much thought into this…he’s seen you in much less,” she mutters and you gasp loudly, nudging her shoulder.

“Y-you said you would never bring that up!” you stutter out, placing the pin back down. The that in question being the time you had snuck Minghao into your room one night and forgot to lock your door. That morning, Eunji was met with the side of a bare chested knight and the princess rolling around together under the sheets, the first person to be introduced to your little secret.

Eunji only hums, looking over your array of jewelry. “The gold would look nicer,” she tells you, ignoring your previous exclamation. She lifts a nearly identical hair pin, except this one is coated in gold, matching the shimmering designs on your robes.

You smile and nod, turning around in response so she can put the pin in your updo. As you continue to go about your morning, there’s an extra jump to your step when you make your way to the militia office. Inside is your father’s head officer, Seungcheol, sitting at his desk as he goes through the papers.

“The demo team comes back today, right Officer?” you ask curiously, stepping in.

Cheol looks up at you, eyebrows quirked. “They came back this morning, yes,” he replies, standing up as he organizes some of the papers in a neat stack. “Excited?”

“No, why would I be?” you say, letting your shoulders deflate a little to hide your very real and very true excitement. Seungcheol gives you a cheeky smile as he adjusts his coat.

“You’re not great at lying.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you reply, crossing your arms over your chest nonchalantly as Seungcheol walks out of the room, letting you follow behind.

“Really? Your father is picking up on it too. Tell me to tell him how the demo team is doing. Asks me to let him know if there’s anyone that seems … suspicious.”

You scoff, letting your hands fall to your side, “Well he hasn’t said anything to me about it … yet at least.” You sigh, figuring that if Seungcheol already has an idea of what’s going on, there’s no point in feigning ignorance. “Was I being too obvious when I asked for a whole unit to be moved from the battle team to the demo team?”

Seungcheol laughs. “Yes. Your father is definitely—”

“Suspecting?”

“No, that’s not the right word. I think he seems more open to the idea than you might think. I was just going to say he has a feeling you and one of the demo team’s members are … are involved.”

You hum in response, skipping besides Seungcheol as you make your way to the militia courtyard. “That’s good to hear.”

“I guess. Whether your father approves so far or not, tell your boy—” Your heart flutters when Seungcheol says it like that. “—whichever one he is, to keep in line. I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to report any bad news back to the King.”

You roll your eyes but don’t respond, walking outside into the field of grass where some soldiers are lined up in neat rows in front of a black, raised platform where you and Seungcheol are supposed to stand. As you near the group of soldiers, your stomach ties up in a tight knot when you catch sight of the familiar face.

Walking timidly up to the platform next to Seungcheol, you place your hands in front of you, playing with your fingers as you struggle to break your eyes away from Minghao. He isn’t looking at you right now—he isn’t allowed to you.

With his helmet drawn by his side, sword sheathed at his back, crimson armor with gold intricacies glistening under the sun, it’s all too much for you—Minghao in his armor is a force of beauty, and one to be reckoned with.

And he’s standing so straight, so tall, his well built figure being accentuated by the sharp curves of the metal that plates his skin and you start to lose track of Seungcheol’s words. It isn’t until he nudges you in your side when you jump up and out of your reverie, only to see him looking down at you with concerned eyes.

“Princess,” he says loudly, and then much quieter, “Are you alright?”

“I—yes, sorry. It’s just the sun, it’s in my face and I lost track of things for a moment,” you lie, looking back at the knights standing in uniform in front of you.

“Do you want to head back inside? You don’t really have to be—”

“I’ll stay,” you say quickly. “What was it I needed to do?”

“Some last words for them. It’s been a long few weeks, so just say something and formally release them for this week.”

Right. That’s why you’re here. Clearing your throat, you straighten your back, causing the men to all turn their attention to you. Finally, both you and Minghao think. Finally he can look at you.

And fuck, you look so beautiful with your hair pinned back and loose ribbons strewn in, your black and gold royal robes hanging effortlessly off your body with the little bows decorating your waist. Gentle fingers clasped in front of you and Minghao can almost feel your gentle touch on him when you speak.

“Thank you for your excellent performances over the past weeks,” you begin to speak, your eyes doing their best to not linger on Minghao too long. “Your efforts are greatly appreciated, and to express my gratitude, you are relieved of your duties from now until the end of this weekend. Report to your duties the following morning as you would on any regular schedule. Thank you again.” You close with a bow, stepping back and motioning your hand out front as to signal.

“You are dismissed,” Seungcheol calls out loudly, and you see the way the soldier’s immediately drop their shoulders, their gazes averting to each others’ as they break out into loose conversation. Well, all but one. Minghao’s eyes are locked in on yours and you’re finding it impossibly hard to look away.

Looking up at Seungcheol, “Can I go now?”

“Of course. Thank you for showing up. Do you need one of us to escort you back to the castle grounds or—”

You shake your head quickly, eyes flickering to Minghao who is making conversation with one of his platoon members casually. “N-no, that won’t be necessary.”

“Are you sure? You aren’t looking too well. I think it’d be safest if you had one of them help you.”

“I—” you pause, “Okay, I’ll take him,” you say before Seungcheol can make his own decision, pointing at Minghao. Hearing your raised voice, he turns to see your finger in his direction, both you and Seungcheol looking straight at him. Seungcheol looks at you as Minghao walks over, but eventually shrugs.

“Minghao, take the princess to castle grounds,” Seungcheol instructs, throwing you a knowing look. He nods without a word, bowing to you and then his leader as the captain walks away to talk to some other soldiers, leaving just the two of you.

The air is thicker now—it’s filled with all the words you want to say, all the things you want to do, all the thoughts you’ve been thinking and fuck—you really missed him. You need to remind yourself that you’re still out in the open, still in the militia courtyard, still not alone, and you don’t even allow Minghao to do the formal, custom bow and greeting before you turn on your heel and rush away.

Your strides are long but his are longer and he keeps up with your discerningly fast pace, following you out of the courtyard, through the rows of decorated barracks, and off the militia grounds without a word. It’s only when you’re both alone in the small pathway that connects the militia grounds to the castle that you finally allow your pace to rest.

Minghao is the first to speak after glancing around to ensure that the coast is clear, “You seem to have forgotten that you’re the only one who isn’t lugging around 40 pounds worth of armor.” His voice comes out in soft pants, and it’s slightly gruff, but then he’s dropping his helmet to the ground and grabbing your face so he can smash your face into his.

His lips are chapped, moving roughly against yours hungrily, his tongue licking into your mouth as you struggle to place your hands—his armor isn’t the best for clinging onto—so you settle for placing them on his neck. Minghao’s own hands are cradling the back of your head, angling you better as his tongue delves deeper, exploring every inch of your mouth with a passion that threatens to consume you. He tastes of salt and sweat, your own lips sweet with the scent of royal gardens, and it all has you dizzy.

When Minghao breaks the kiss, you feel at a loss as you grapple for him, his skin, his touch against you. “Y-you need to get this off,” you say hastily, knocking on the steel armor that dons his body. You let your fingers trace down the hard material, finally letting them fall down to grasp one of the few exposed parts of his body left—his hands.

“Eager already?” his eyes flicker up at you and it seems to light a flame beneath you. You squeeze his fingers lightly, looking around you to make sure no one has stepped into this pathway yet.

“Whatever.” You pause. “I missed you,” you add quietly, as Minghao leans forward and adjusts the collar of your robes for you, the small gesture making your heart tender. His gaze softens, and he uses one hand to gently stroke your cheek.

“I missed you too. It was so long—I thought I was going crazy,” he confesses, and the admission has your lips pulling into a smile.

“Do you want to go to the gardens?” you ask excitedly, holding his hand up to your chest as you clutch it tightly. “The enclosed one? I’ll ask Eunji to make sure it stays private for the rest of the morning and—” Minghao’s lips pursed into a tight line causes disappointment to well up inside your belly. “What? You don’t want to?”

“No—no, of course I want to, it’s just…” his voice trails off and you look up at him dejectedly. “I need to go to the barracks. I know we have the week off but I still have things to do.”

“Oh,” you murmur, stepping back a little. Minghao frowns, squeezing your cheek lightly with the calloused pads of his fingers.

“You know I want to. I just need to unpack and get this—” he looks down at himself and clanks the metal armor, “—get this shit off and take care of some stuff with Jun.” You nod understandingly, but he notices the ways your eyes droop down just a little. Pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, he continues. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

Your eyes sparkle at the suggestion. “Tonight?” Minghao nods with a smile, his hand still resting by your cheek, gently stroking your jawline. “The gardens? My room? Where?”

“I actually have a different place in mind. It’s in the civil grounds. It’ll be better if you can come before sunset…” As he speaks, his fingers trail down your neck, running over your collarbone right where the two ends of your robe meet just above your chest. His touch lingers for a few moments, burning trails of fire into your skin as you struggle to keep your heartbeat steady.

“The civil grounds? We’ve never gone there before,” you murmur, voice dripping with curiosity. “At least not since … well you know.” Since the night we met.

“Trust me?” The way he looks down at you with pure adoration makes you feel like he can hear your heartbeat from your chest, shaking the earth under you.

“Before sunset, right here,” you promise.

You can’t quite hide your enthusiasm from Eunji but you also can’t quite care. Nearly jumping off the walls from excitement, it feels like an eternity before the hour strikes seven and you’re whispering to her to cover for you as you slip off the castle grounds and to the little pathway that leads to the militia grounds.

And there he is, your boy, clad in no longer his armor but brown robes which hug his built figure. There is no sword drawn in his back nor is there a helmet clinging by his side, and you grin when you approach him with a smile, wrapping your arms around his torso.

Patting your back gently, Mingao places a soft kiss on your forehead, giving you a warning look as your eyes ask for more. “Not now … not here,” he clarifies, running his hand over your head once, admiring the updo it’s in as he slots his other hand into yours. “Don’t you want to see where I’m taking you?”

You grip his hand tighter and nod as he pulls out a brown fabric from the crevice in his robe. “What’s this for?” you ask as he drapes it over your head gingerly, finally tying the loose ends under your chin.

“Just so you don’t get noticed. We are going to the civil grounds, after all,” Mingaho explains, patting your cheek lightly once he’s done and pulling you to follow after him as he leads the way. You’re both quiet as he leads you carefully through the paths of the militia grounds, finally sneaking you out through a side gate.

Minghao quietly pulls you through the winding streets of the civil grounds where the atmosphere is bustling, with vibrant colors, loud voices, and an endless amount of people flooding the pathways. It’s new, of course, but with the sun hanging low above you, Minghao’s warm hand encased around yours, and the promise of a good night in your mind, you feel oddly comforted.

You’re led through the crowds, Minghao holding you close to his side until he stops at the base of one, tall building, leading you through an alleyway and to the back where there’s a narrow staircase leading to the roof. With a hand on your back, he guides you up the stairs, still keeping close as he follows carefully behind you.

“This is Jun’s family’s old shop,” he explains as the distant sounds of laughter and music grow fainter. “They’ve moved buildings now, but me and Jun come here sometimes with friends because this one is really tall and … and well you’ll see,” he murmurs as you finally reach the top.

He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist as you both walk onto the rooftop which is lined with a fence style barrier. The ground is covered in old rugs and there are some sacks and boxes strewn around. Walking over to the edge with Minghao, you gasp softly at the sight around you. The civil ground sprawls beneath you, and as you look up, you can see the castle against the blooming oranges and reds of the sky—it’s beautiful.

“This is … wow … this is really pretty, Hao,” you say, and his hold on you tightens for a second before letting go so he can turn around. He walks over to one of the boxes, rummaging through its contents before pulling out a few linen sheets and a lantern, setting it down on the rugs.

“Come, sit,” he instructs as he lays out the sheets, placing the light on top. You follow, smoothing your robes before sitting next to him and leaning into his shoulder so he can wrap an arm around you. Looking up, you watch the sky turn into a hue of orange so deep and vibrant that it’s nearly red.

“You really can’t get a view like this from the castle,” you say with a sigh as Minghao uses one hand to light up the lantern.

He hums in response, pressing a kiss to the temple of your head. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been meaning to bring you here for a while.” You turn to look up at him with a big grin, finally pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It’s short and sweet, and although you really are aching for more, you suppose you’ll settle for this right now. After all, you do have all night.

“This is beautiful,” Minghao tells you when you pull away, fingers brushing over the golden hairpin you stuck into your updo early in the morning.

“Eunji picked it out for me…”

He smiles at you gently, hands disappearing into the folds of his robe. “I love it. I actually wanted to show you something,” he says, pulling out a small object clasped in his hands.

Opening it up in front of you, on his palm sits a shiny, finger shaped accessory, gleaming with a hue that perfectly matches your hairpin. It vaguely resembles the figure of Minghao’s own fingers, and you run your fingers over the cool metal, tracing over the delicate patterns carved in.

“What’s this?”

“A prize. The kingdom was holding a competition for the different demonstration units, and as the leader of the unit that won, I was made this,” he explains, rubbing his own fingers over the accessory. Wordlessly, he slips it onto his middle finger and holds it up in front of you to see it more closely. As your vision zones in on the golden piece, you notice a shift in Minghao's eyes—a darkening intensity.

“Hao,” you whisper quietly, and then he’s bringing the decorated finger up to your face and pressing the cool metal against your lips. Gasping, you lean forward instinctively, your mouth wrapping around the piece instinctively. His hand in your mouth, you can smell him, although the taste of iron against your tongue is unfamiliar. New, but not unpleasant.

“You have no idea,” Minghao begins to say, pressing his fingers down on your tongue firmly, “how long I’ve been thinking about this.” You can’t respond, not with the way your mouth is stuffed, but you honestly don’t need to. The way your tongue swirls over his digits and teeths at the accessory is enough to tell Minghao that you’ve been aching for this just as long as he has. “Do you want to…try something?” he asks tentatively, slipping his slick fingers out carefully.

You don’t need to think about your answer, not with Minghao. You’d trust him no matter what, follow him anywhere, let him do anything to you. Your fingers toy with the ribbons of your robes as you nod eagerly, and he helps you untie them from your side. The cloth hangs loose from your shoulders now, the gap at your chest spreading now and leaving you bare.

The golden piece is still on his fingers, and as he trails his hands down the curve of your tits, pressing against your stomach and dipping in between your legs, Minghao watches your face contort into pleasure. The cool metal pressing against your warm cunt has your soft breaths turning into harsh pants as you grab his firm bicep, legs spreading instinctively.

Quickly, you glance around you, but Minghao quells your worries when he presses his lips against your neck and murmurs, “Don’t worry angel, we’re too high up for anyone to see.” His fingers are gliding between your folds as he sucks against your neck, and you know he wants to be sweet with you, wants to take his time, wants to be the patient gentleman he is, but it’s been far too long.

“Minghao,” you moan when his thumb brushes against your clit. “Wanna feel you,” your murmur, nudging his face in the crook of your neck with your own. He chuckles into your skin, licking a hot stripe over your skin before nodding. It hardly takes him a second before he’s circling your slick hole and pressing in.

The hard accessory is a new feeling—this isn’t the same as the familiar pads of Minghao’s long fingers rubbing against your plush walls, but you can’t say you don’t like it. Whining into his mouth as he kisses you, your hands roam Minghao’s body, tugging at the ropes of his robe around his torso.

As you aimlessly try to shuffle his robe off of him, Minghao starts to plunge his fingers in and out. Shrugging his robe off his shoulders, you’re finally able to press your palms against his hard chest, breaking away from the kiss so you can admire him. “You like it?” he asks amusedly as your mouth hangs wide open when he presses his fingers in extra deep with one thrust. Your head lolls back heavily, the finger piece adding an extra layer of thickness that you aren’t used to.

“Feels s’good,” you say softly, the moans getting caught in your throat when he speeds up his movements. “Love your fingers …” You take a deep breath before continuing. “Love y—you!” you whimper unexpectedly when you feel your orgasm creep up on you unexpectedly quickly.

“Are you gonna cum, princess?” Something about the way Minghao calls you princess is different from others. Maybe it’s the way he isn’t calling you that because you are the princess, but because you are his princess. His sweet girl, falling apart at the palm of his hand as he rubs your sensitive nub and continues to finger fuck you until you moan his name. His name falls from your lips like honey, sweet and thick as he kisses you passionately and doesn’t stop working you through your orgasm until you’re squirming in his hold and pawing at his pants.

Slipping out his fingers, Minghao holds the shiny accessory up, and it seems to shimmer even more now, coated in your wetness and reflecting the pretty red tint of the sky. Gently pulling the piece off his finger, he sets it to the side. “How was it?”

You smile hazily, still recovering from your much awaited orgasm. “I loved it … felt different but I loved it,” you tell him honestly, shuffling over on his lap as your robe falls completely off your body, leaving you in nothing but panties. Minghao’s breath hitches at the sight, and you grin as your fingers make their way to the firm waistband of his brown pants.

He’s quick to catch on, enveloping your lips in a kiss as he pulls his pants and boxers off in one go, hard cock springing free and hitting your thigh lightly. You feel the warm precum leak against your skin as you shift closer, your stomach pressing against his now that you’re both completely bare and more desperate than ever.

Minghao's arms wrap around your torso, one hand going down to line his thick tip up with your folds, letting himself get coated in your wetness. "You ready, angel?" he asks when your mouths break apart from each other, his pretty lips red and swollen. Your eyebrows pinch together when you feel his cock prodding at your entrance and you nod vigorously. “Words, princess, use your words.”

“Yes, Hao, ‘m ready,” you moan when you feel him press against you, letting your head fall to his shoulder. “So ready, so, so ready,” you continue, not being able to control yourself when you press your own hips down. Minghao gasps at the feeling of you sinking on him, warm walls hugging his cock and fuck, he realizes how much he missed you.

Realizes just how much his fist falls short of your perfect pussy—long nights of being without you so he to resort to jerking himself off to the thought of you but none of that compared to the feeling of you whining his name on top of him, hands clutching at his arms as you try to adjust to his size.

You’re also having your own moment of epiphany now too—realization that your fingers were not enough, and will never be enough. At least, not after you’ve felt Hao’s cock inside of you—one thrust in and he’s already hitting all the right spots and having you writhe on top of him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Minghao groans when your ass settles fully on his lap, his cock pressed into you, balls deep, as your fingers lace into his hair and grab at his soft locks.

“Oh—oh m-my god, Hao,” you whimper when he shifts inside of you. The pain that once came from his size is now morphing into a white, hot pleasure that ripples through your spine as you lift your hips up halfway before letting them fall back down. “So—s’big,” you gasp out when his fat tip nudges against your cervix.

Minghao feels his cock twitch inside of you at your words, using his hands to guide your body so you can move and bounce on top of him with less effort. Your cunt is so tight around him and his eyes press shut tightly when he hears you call out his name. “Doin’ so good for me princess,” he praises when you roll your hips against his.

Both of your movements aren’t fast nor extravagant but it’s the way he’s so close to you, skin melting into one other as you share your breath and exchange moans. Bodies moving in sync as you drink in the velvety moans, your nose nuzzles into his when your thighs start to cramp up. “Hao …” you call out as his cock punches the air out of your lungs. “…’m tired,” you mewl, your hips stuttering into his.

His hand cradles your neck as you both still, murmuring, “I got you angel.” Swiftly, Minghao flips you over so your back is pressed against the sheets and he’s on top of you, arms on either side of your head to hold himself up. One hand comes up to hold your cheek as he starts to move again, taking control of the thrusts now.

Stroking your cheekbone with his thumb, he ruts his hips into yours, cock and pussy jamming together in a sloppy mess as you feel that knot in your tummy start to tie up again. “Missed you s’much,” you confess as heat flourishes through your body.

“Missed you too angel,” Minghao returns almost immediately, letting the snap of his hips become more sharp and forceful, your body jerking back and forth with each movement. Your eyes flicker between Hao’s pretty face, coated in a sheen layer of sweat, and the night sky that begins to loom into a dark purple, revealing the stars. “Gonna have to fuck you every single night now that I’m back,” he grunts when you squeeze around him extra tight, letting himself drop down onto his elbows.

You shudder at the idea of having Hao’s cock inside of you every night, and you aren’t sure if your pussy can handle the pleasure. “I’ll—fuck—” you gasp between the words, “—I’ll sneak you in e-every night.”

“Yeah? Eunji’s not gonna get mad when she sees your door locked every morning?” he chuckles, bringing a hand down to rub at your clit.

“Don’t care,” you mutter, biting down on your lip as your feel the knot being pulled and tugged inside you. “Fuck—Hao, ‘m so close, so, so close … Are you close?” you ask dazedly, lips puffy and eyes wide as you look up at him. And looks so sexy with the way his brown eyes watch you intently, his muscles flexing with every movement and Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he tries to hold off his own orgasm.

“Yeah, ‘m close angel, your pussy so good,” he slurs as he meets your lips for a tongue tying kiss. And slowly and carefully, you both start to unwind, your orgasm hitting you first from the overstimulation of your first that never quite ebbed away, Minghao’s following suit as you let out whimpers moans of his name into his mouth, cock twitching before filling you to the brim with his thick ropes of cum.

Your ears ring of white noise for the next few moments as thrash against Minghao, your bodies melting into one until he finally breaks away from your lips, leaving you both as a tangled mess of limbs. You’re breathing heavily into each other and you can’t quite comprehend what’s going on until he whispers your name into your ear, eyes shooting back to life.

“I love you,” he murmurs, kissing your earlobe before lifting his head so he can look at you intently.

“I love you,” you say, without a second of hesitation. He’s still inside of you, and now you’re hyper-aware of the growing mess that sits between your legs. Minghao kisses your nose as you look down when he finally slips out of you, a small noise of complaint leaving your lips. Inhaling deeply, you sit up. “You’re going to live up to that promise, you know,” you say shyly when he looks at you, sitting up as well to grab his robe. “You know … every single night.”

Minghao grins. “Of course I will.”

“Can I hold you to that?” you ask slyly, intertwining your fingers with his.

Minghao rolls his eyes, palm pressing against yours. “Guess we’ll just have to try ‘n’ find out.”

#minghao #minghao smut #minghao imagines #xu minghao #minghao x reader #minghao drabbles #xu minghao x reader #xu minghao smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt smut #svt reactions #seventeen smut #the8 x reader #the8 smut #📝 writing

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chocotonez · 1 year

Text

skz reaction to their s/o feeling nauseous

a/n: I think this is months late so I’m so incredibly sorry and I hope you’re not still feeling nauseous anon!!

warnings/genre: mentions of throwing up, sickness, no reason stated for feeling sick, g/n reader, lmk if anything else should be tagged!

chan

-so incredibly worried immediately

-if you’re outside he’ll immediately be like “need to go home?? Should we go home?”

-calls you his “poor baby” while cradling you dramatically

-“food? water? cold?? hot??? fever??? chills?!?!?”

-strokes your hair while trying to ease it in anyway he knows possible, even looks up quick ways to help you

-he’s more of a healer and fixer, so he wouldn’t just want to distract you but fix the problem entirely

-lots of kisses until you feel better!!

lee know

-immediately has you in bed with a damp towel over your forehead and fanning you while also making chicken noodle soup and giving you the best of the best treatment

-probably the type to drop “is it because you’re on your phone all the time?” and scold you even if that’s not the reason at all 😭

-he’s devoted to taking care of you but also he hates seeing you in pain, which is why he can seem like he’s scolding u or smth like that

-babies you a bit to make you laugh, pinches your cheeks but his giggles are softer and he tries to relax so he doesn’t make you feel even more sick LOL

-“I’ll always be here to take care of you”

changbin

-notices but he doesn’t want you to feel super duper scrutinized especially if it’s something you can handle yourself

-like dizzy spells and whatnot, but once it hits that your head is spinning and your vision is getting spotty he panics

-“hey let’s get you some water? do you wanna go home? wanna go lay down?” and is dropping a lot of suggestions because you know ur body best!

-but he’ll obviously swoop into take care of you if you’re alright with it, kissing your cheek and trying to comfort you and smother u with love because love is the best medicine

-brushes your hair out of your face and lets you lay on his chest, he wants to remind you that he’s here for you always

hyunjin

-very relaxed about it, not in the way he doesn’t care but in the way he’s confident that he can take care of you !

-he makes sure to ask what you’d like to do though, he’s not really the type to be insistent on getting you to rest but he’ll gladly carry you to bed and get you some water and an advil

-cuddles you non stop and tries to take your mind off of it by telling stories about his day, tries to get you to doze off

-respects your space a lot and understands how it can get overbearing to have someone huddling you when you feel sick

-but no matter if you want him a thousand feet away or holding onto you like a koala bear he’ll be there for you with warm soup and a damp cloth

han

-has a flare for dramatics

-it’s a dizzy spell and you’re nauseous, and obviously he loves you and cares for you but unless there’s a more prominent issue he’ll just take care of you as per usual but with some theatrics to make you smile

-he’s a big distractor unlike Chan, he knows you can get over a nausea episode but he wants to help you get through it through methods other than painkillers and gallon bottles of water

-“oh woe is me, the love of my life has fallen ill to some treacherous curse! fortunately their handsome prince is here to save them with true love’s kiss…” “please just give me the Tylenol”

-pokes your cheek to make sure you’re still alive if you start dozing off because it makes him nervous

-takes funny photos to commemorate the occasion (you don’t think it’s that funny)

felix

-I think he’s much more insistent on you getting rest and taking it easy

-I think that he takes your health very seriously, as he knows personally that it’s best to take care of yourself and he just doesn’t ever want you to be hurt/in pain/uncomfortable

-he might seem a little panicky and rushed with trying to get you feel better but that’s because he really does but want to see you happy and okay again!

-you know those big water bottles that have little inspirational messages encouraging you to drink water?? he gets those for you while you rest up

-if it’s just a short dizzy spell he’ll immediately sit you down with a damp cloth and get you some food

-honestly he’s just the sweetest ever and very attentive to you no matter how minor or fleeting your nausea is

seungmin

-“I’m gonna throw up on you” “don’t you dare”

-has fun with it LOL, but not because he doesn’t care but entirely because he wants to see you smile and distract you from your head spinning

-“heeeeyyyy i brought you some noddle soup but if you throw up I’m gonna call my mom to take care of you because that’s really gross and I don’t wanna deal with that!! xoxo love you so much!”

-but that’s entirely a joke because the second you’re seriously discomforted and hurt he’s on the verge of tears and tending to you

-he’s gonna make it fun so you don’t just…feel nasty and gross and bad, because if you’re stuck with a dizzy spell then he’s gonna make you smile somehow

-sings “you make me feel…better!” to the tune of twice’s feel special while getting you some painkillers

jeongin

-takes it very seriously because he wants to be a good boyfriend for you

-I think that every time he faces a boyfriend scenario (you’re upset, nauseous, you need a ride somewhere…) he really pushes himself to be the best he can be for you

-but also it’s embarrassing if he gets all cheesy on you and he gets flustered if he has to take your temperature or if you start leaning on him because you’re still his super pretty significant other and you always make his heart beat fast

-doesnt really know how to approach on comforting you so he’ll just try to find a solution (i.e nearly calls emergency services)

-“it’s okay! everything’s a-okay!!” and he’s more worried than you are (mainly because the world is spinning and you are this close to leaning over the nearest trash can, so you don’t really have the energy to be as anxious about this as he is)

-“jeongin, babe, can we just go home?? I don’t think you need to take me to the hospital…” “but like…are you sure??”

#I dont think i followed this request very well omg #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids blurbs #stray kids fluff #skz reactions #skz x reader

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admirxation · 2 months

Text

the perpetual chase | chapter two

links to other parts: part one | part three

pairing: las plagas!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader (afab) AND Chris Redfield x fem!reader (afab).

disclaimer: this fic will deal with dark content, containing topics of abuse, manipulation, non-con and under the DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT category. this is also a piece of fiction and i do not condone everything i write. you’re responsible for the content you consume and if any of the warnings make you uncomfortable, click off now.

specific chapter warnings: death, attempted suicide, mention of losing a baby, trauma, imprisonment, & mentions of postpartum depression.

word count: 4k

a/n: i’m sorry for taking forever, i had a 10,000 word uni project, but i’m free for a little bit to get some writing done. just a mention, if u want to be tagged in chapters just comment or message me (just a note if ur a blog that has no content, and is ageless i wont interact). also to note anything italicised is a flash back to a memory.

Chapter two: Cruel Consciousness

“I’m… I’m sorry, Y/N, I love you, and I would never hurt you if… if —”

“I know Leon, I know who you are, but… I don’t think the real you can survive now.”

“I know… That’s why I need you to kill me right now… Please, I can’t take it anymore. It’s too much!”

“I’m sorry, Leon. I wish it had happened differently.”

“We would have been happier… l love you.”

“I love you too.”

The sensation of searing pain ripped through, the deafening roar of gunfire, and the overwhelming rush of fear and adrenaline flooded the mind. Voices were barely whispers, attempts to sit up and continue survival were slim to nothing; the vision was blurry, surroundings darkening as if god pulled the night sky in front of the peripheral. Right then and there, the feeling of coldness and abandonment set in, clouding every inch of known existence; it was so cold, with no warmth or comfort, just stranded in a vein of mystery that would forever be kept locked up like a forgotten trinket that has nothing left for existence but to collect dust, and be apart of fond memories — and only memories. Haunting silence set the scene — at first — with the icy tendrils creeping through the veins, numbness. Until a blood-curdling scream was released into the unknown and dark atmosphere.

In cold sweat with tears brimming up in his eyes, Leon had awoken from an icy cold abandonment, realising his sudden reality, remembering the feeling of unknown silence for years — he was in a coma for years, unaware and lost in his atmosphere, but had finally came back the to the material world that he knew in life. He slowly picked his limb body up, watching in utter surprise and bewilderment as he stared at his pale hands, shocked at how the light was now surrounding them and not perpetual darkness; he watched as his chest lifted up and down and appreciated how he was finally breathing, pressing his hands to his heart — it felt like a miracle a god bestowed upon him. This newfound appreciation continued when his hands travelled from his heart to his fingers pressing against his forehead damp with sweat; he couldn’t believe how his mind was clear now; there was no intrusion, no splitting of discomfort as two entities tried to squeeze into one consciousness, his mind and every physical manifestation belonged to him and only him now, feeling like there was no longer a parasite that manipulated every aspect.

That was when he remembered everything. He had constantly dreamed about you while in a coma; those final moments that resulted in his death were on replay in his mind, but when sympathy was granted to him, he would remember the sweet moments when it was an innocent crush next door. That moment in Spain was something he found comfort in consciously delving into. He sat there for a moment and remembered when he saved Ashley.

On his escape from that dreaded Island, he reminisced about how she had asked him to stay, with prominent hints. Still, he denied telling her, “I got to go see a girl back home,” while there was a tinge of disappointment in her voice, she didn’t dwell on it; she was happy and wished him well with the lucky girl; he was going to confess his feelings to you when he took Ashley back home and gotten his thank yous from the president. He had it all planned, the romantic gesture of flowers, telling you how he always looked forward to when you came knocking on his door with your cooking — he loved how caring you were for him. But after he had safely returned Ashley and gotten his thank you, he was dismissed to go back home, and that was when his reality had shifted.

He was coughing up blood, feeling weak as he tried to walk back to the car to be escorted home; he felt like it was nothing, at first, feeling like it was just exhaustion from the trip, which often happened with needing rest and to let his body fully recover from the pain and strain it went through. He ignored it at first, and it rested while he was being escorted back; he was returned home later in the night, and as the driver waved him off, he looked up to your window, noticing your silhouette move toward the curtains, smiling to himself that he knew you were still going to be up at the late hour. As he pulled his key… That was when it happened. An uncontrollable shock coursed through his body, feeling his muscles tense up and jaw clenching down as he grinned his teeth in pain, his fingers tensed up into balls of fists and collapsed on the ground as well as the bouquet he had just for you. This pain was familiar. Las Plagas. He watched his veins darkening, his body shiver in the darkness.

“I thought I was cured,” he whispered to himself, “no, no, I was cured; Ashley put me in Luis’... AH!” he tried to remain quiet, but the pain was now taking over and manipulating his autonomy.

He rushed into the darkness as people looked outside their windows in curiosity and worry, but Leon’s figure was nowhere to be found as he ran into the shadows. He remembered the tears that rolled down his cheeks as he tried to keep quiet, trying to accept his fate, as he pulled his gun from his trouser pockets and wished it ended right there not to cause harm as he saw back in that little village — all those innocent people who had lives, history, not lost from the parasite and resting in death.

“It’s not that hard; just do it,” he told himself as his shaking hand tried to pull the trigger, “you know how to shoot a gun. It’s not impossible. Don’t be a coward. Do the right thing.”

But he couldn’t do it.

The gun jammed when his finger finally pulled it back, feeling the metal shake against his head.

After that was when the parasite took over him, but unlike the people in Spain, it manifested alongside the consciousness and personality of Leon but still overpowered him—resulting in the pain and trauma caused to you. As he remembered everything that happened that night, everything he did to you, the pain he caused and how he dehumanised and objectified you — he was ashamed of himself. He remembered how he tricked you into falling in love with him, into relying on him through his abusive and manipulative behaviour; that was not who Leon was. He knew he was better than that, and he wanted to make it right with his new chance of life. Leon tried to move from the bed he was on, but his legs were unresponsive.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself as he pressed his fingers onto his legs. He could feel his fingers prodding his skin, giving him some relief that they weren’t paralysed; he needed to wait until they ‘woke up’ and allowed him to move about freely.

His body was almost… delayed; only his upper body was mobile and able to move freely, but he couldn’t just sit there and let this haunting memory eat at his conscience with guilt. He used his upper body strength to pull himself from the bed, a thud on the hard ground as he tried to move with determination, his lower body holding him back and having to drag himself like a pathetic creature. The room he was in was unfamiliar; he recognised it as an ordinary hospital room, but as he went to the door and tried to pull the door handle, a voice surrounded the room.

“I admire your determination, Leon, but you’re not getting out of here.”

That voice. That voice was familiar.

“Chris?” Leon was more confused than ever. His appreciation for a second chance at life was slowly short-lived as he lived in another nightmare. “Why am I being trapped here? Answer me!” Leon felt his anger making his face warm, desperately clawing at the door and screaming for release.

“You won’t be getting out any time soon, Leon. You’re not safe from the outside world.” Chris felt pained to tell his friend that he had to be a prisoner in this lifeless room that gave him no joy.

“Not safe! Not safe! I’m cured; that part of my mind is silenced. Why else am I in this room?”

“You’re cured… Temporally,” Chris sighed. " We’ve managed to make a supplement to keep giving you. Our team quickly made it, but a cure is still far from us.”

His heart sank. His desperation had halted and was replaced with a numbness. He thought he was finally cured, but this bliss was temporary; he needed to rely on a needle inside of him to be sane and to keep the monster within him taking everything; life was so fragile; he was so vulnerable, and this kept circulating in his mind.

Leon had pressed his back on the cold wall, tilting his head with closed eyes to process information nobody should have to deal with. ‘It isn’t fair,’ he kept thinking. It felt like a force just loved to torment him for his whole life. From his family being cruelly taken from him, Raccoon City, Spain and now this, was this all a cruel joke to a higher power? He thought to himself.

Right there — as Leon paused to be lost in a sea of thoughts — that wall opposite him had a flicker of uncertainty that danced across the seemingly bland and grey wall; Leon watched as it materialised into pixels, then watched as his attention focused further to see the wall turn into a screen. To his astonishment, it revealed Chris’ face, which he hadn’t seen in so long. It was too much to process; he could not find the words and did not know what to say as he froze. Alongside Chris, he saw strangers in the background with screens of research in front of him; he noticed a flicker of files that he had accumulated back in Spain and even saw a picture of the face of Luis in his laboratory jacket with his team when he was working for Umbrella — his heart still hurt for the man.

“What… What’s all that?” Leon managed to string some sentences together, but his voice trembled with disbelief as his hand pointed to everything behind Chris.

“It’s… complicated,” Chris replied, his gaze flickering to the monitors behind him where charts and graphs danced in a mesmerising data display. Chris’ heart pounded in his chest as he spoke to Leon; he knew he would wake up at some point but didn’t know today would be that day, especially just after he confessed his feelings for you — almost like the universe was telling him something. He took a deep breath before he continued dialogue, “It’s research for a cure… It’s still far away from us, but —” he was cut off.

“You have the files from Luis’ research; shouldn’t that be good enough? He gave me the suppressant before; isn’t that enough of a lead?!”

“It’s been a good lead, but your… situation is more complicated.” This was more bad news that Leon dreaded hearing: “With this disease… You were supposed to turn into what you encountered back in Spain, but it seems like it… evolved into something different.”

“Are you trying to say I’ve turned into some evolved creature?”

Chris laughed as he tried to turn to humour in this moment, “If you want to think of it that way, then be my guest. But the good side is that you won’t be like what you saw back in Spain. We have enough suppressants for you to remain, but until we find a cure, you’re not going anywhere.”

“What about Ashley? She was infected, too.”

“She was cured. It stayed the pure strain so she could be cured back in Spain; you were just unlucky… But try and keep some positivity; you’ll stay alive, and a cure is possible.”

A heavy silence settled over the room, broken only by the steady noise of typing by the strangers. Leon’s mind was whirling with trauma and neverending questions, with fears too vast to name or even get into. But amidst the chaos, one thing arose into Leon’s mind.

“Can I see her?” Leon’s voice was barely audible above the hum of machines, “Can I see Y/N? I want to… set things right.”

Chris’ expression softened, but Leon’s eyes filled with sadness as he begged and begged, “Please, Chris. I’m behind a wall, and I just want to tell her everything I want to. Please, while I have a sound mind.”

“As… As much as I would say that’s a good idea. She’s… um. She’s gone.”

The words hit Leon like a physical blow, knocking the breath from his lungs. Images flashed before his eyes — your smile, your laughter, the warmth of your touch. And now, all that remained was emptiness, a void that threatened to consume him whole. Guilt ate at him as he tried to agree that he couldn’t make it right. He knew he couldn’t turn back the clock and stop all the damage he caused, but he wanted to start with recognition and apologise for everything he did, even if it wasn’t his fault.

“I-I don’t believe you,” a lump in his throat hindered the audibility of his voice, “I-I’ll never get to, n-never get to,” he paused for a moment again, “Did the baby make it?”

Chris momentarily thought, “She lost it while we took her out of your… You know. I’m so sorry, Leon.”

Behind Chris, the scientists exchanged uneasy glances. One of the women tried to hold a steady position as she teared up, hearing his brokenness and the transparent lies Chris was telling him. Everyone in the room could understand, but they also saw the person behind whom they were researching and were told to be cautious. But Chris remained unchanged.

“I have to go now, Leon, but me and Jill will check up on you… We’re here to help.”

Leon nodded; he didn’t want to fight and even wanted to be left alone.

Leon felt at ease as the screen materialised back to the blank wall. He knew people were watching him, but being unable to see a range of faces made him feel alone with his thoughts. All his thoughts were just glimpses and flashes of picturing you, imagining everything he wanted to say to you, and trying to understand that you were gone. ‘I wish I were the one that remained dead,' he thought.

As Chris walked out, he bent over to the team leader. “Don’t tell him the truth,” he murmured in a low and urgent tone. “Keep up the illusion.”

That charade would continue, a fragile facade of woven lies. Leon had to deal with a reality that was just an illusion to keep up appearances. There was now a quiet stillness as Chris left the room, finding his footing to return to the area you and Mason were in. On his way, he noticed Jill standing outside, waiting for another conversation with Chris. She waved him to beckon him over, and of course, he wouldn’t ignore her — even though he wanted to after the not-too-long-ago encounter that still left a bad taste in his mouth. He stepped outside, taking in some much-needed fresh air, waiting for Jill to guide the conversation; she was eager to get her words out.

“I’m hoping you told Leon the lie we agreed on,” she raised an eyebrow, greeted by Chris nodding in agreement.

“I know why we’re not letting him out… We must find a cure before we even consider placing him somewhere. But why did we have to lie to his face about Y/N? Wouldn’t it have been better to say she didn’t want to see him?”

“If he were his normal self, he would have taken that.”

“But he is his normal self; we have a suppressant, and we have managed to keep giving him that.”

“I know, I know. But we don’t know too much about his condition. Luis’ research is limited to a single strain. I doubt we can just go to Umbrella for information,” she took a deep breath and noticed her voice raising in volume gradually, “Let’s say this strain becomes something else; it’s already evolved into another strain; it could get more serious. I would rather him think Y/N is dead so he doesn’t go after her or Mason. I’m not having her be taken away from me again… And I doubt you want that after your little moment with her.”

“Are you still mad that she and I have something?”

“No, I’m so happy I’m practically planning the wedding… What do you think, Chris?” sarcasm at its finest.

Chris sighed deeply at Jill’s stubbornness, “I’m all for protecting her, and I admire how far you’ve gone to protect her, but wouldn’t you rather that she be with someone you know? You know I’m not an awful person,” Jill wanted to open her mouth for a witty remark, “Ah, no comment from you. But back to the point, you know I won’t hurt her, and you’re round, and she’s near you for as long as possible in this quarantine zone if you suspect I’m doing her harm… Which I won’t… You’re there.”

Jill’s hardened exterior softened with the voice of reason: " I didn’t think I would say this, but you’re right, Chris. I just have to get used to it, but I swear if you hurt her, I will do way worse and won’t keep you alive like I am with Leon.”

Chris nodded in acceptance.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You sat alone in a dimly lit room, your only company with the shadows and the ambient noises across the walls, hearing the occasional footsteps outside your living quarters and the soft hum of the air conditioning filling the silence as you stared at the blank wall, with a still expression. Chris was beside you, and you felt his warm breath and the scratch of his facial hair on your arm; it was strange to have him sleeping soundly beside you. You had spoken to Jill with Chris while Mason was getting his lessons, and there was no point in keeping the secret up. At the same time, it did take away a specific aspect of fun; it was a lot less stressful to keep it from her. All you were doing now was waiting a little longer before Mason knew about it — but that was no worry since Chris was a father figure for him while you were raising him.

Alone with your thoughts, you couldn’t help but drift back to the memories of Leon. You were getting tired of this same routine of having a romantic connection with Chris and then looking back, but you also were patient with yourself, knowing you weren’t going to get over this; no matter how many years passed, it would only be a little easier to cope with but never get over. These memories would invade your memory like an unwelcome ghost haunting and tormenting, stirring up a tumultuous mix of emotions within you. The guilt gnawed at you as you felt like a prisoner even with Leon in the grave, feeling like a fool with the clutches of Stockholm syndrome keeping you and making it unable to break free.

However, as you sat there — lost in your memories and thoughts — another thought started to take the forefront: your conversation with Jill a year after your rescue.

You remembered that night; it was a year from your rescue, and within that year, you thought about so much. The year started with the early days of raising Mason; oh, how much of a darling he was when he was tiny. Before you had given birth to him, you were so excited every time you looked at the ultrasound, your heart skipping a beat every time you thought about how close it was until you could finally touch him, skin to skin, and introduce him to the world. When you saw that face, tears of joy rolled down as you looked at the life you brought into the world; you didn’t care how much he looked like Leon — at that moment — all you cared about was the relief you felt when knowing he was healthy and didn’t have a strain of infection in his veins, you had the privilege of having a beautiful and healthy baby.

But as the months went on, it was getting hard to cope with life after pregnancy; Mason was no trouble, not fussy, and was quite an easy baby; you even had Chris and Jill help to look after him, so you had nothing to complain about. But you remembered how fatigued your eyes were; every day felt like a struggle to continue. You remembered how your body weighted you down and your spirits corrupted with the weight of postpartum. The medical staff were dismissive at first, but after seeing your condition, they began to take a look at it more; it was only more accessible with people by your side. You felt like you were drowning, then suffocating beneath the waves of sadness and emptiness that threatened to consume your every waking moment. But while you were in your solitude, you had time to think, to deeply remember and process what had happened to you, and think deeply about Leon. That was when you built up the courage to ask Jill everything your mind wouldn’t silence itself about.

Your memories echoed that picture as you remembered how you sat across from Jill, your fingers nervously tapping against the tabletop, and you couldn’t shake off that nagging feeling that something wasn’t right for a long time; your mind had delved into a strain that had a gut feeling that there was more to the story that Jill let on. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation you couldn’t sit in silence about anymore.

“Jill,” you began hesitantly, “I need to ask you something.” You had her full attention, and she smiled before she knew exactly what you wanted to discuss. “I have to ask you about Leon.”

Jill’s eye flickered. You didn’t know this then, but her mind was racing to string together words to maintain an appearance, an illusion. She deeply breathed, “What do you want to know?”

You hesitated; your mind raced with the words and everything you wanted to ask, “I… Did… Did Leon actually… die?” Jill looked at you with false confusion.

“Of course he did… Don’t you remember you pulled the trigger, Y/N,”

“What did you do with this body?”

“Excuse me?”

“I killed him… okay… but you wouldn’t have just left his corpse there. You wanted to keep this secret from the general public, or so I’m told, so you wouldn’t have let it stay there for anybody to come across,” Jill was panicking; you didn’t know since she managed to keep a calm composure, but she wasn’t expecting these questions and thoughts from you.

“Well, we didn’t tell you this, but we got some other people to collect him, and we were taken; we don’t know where, but he is dead and was taken care of… I’m sorry.”

You had a gut feeling that she was lying; Jill’s voice had sowed seeds of doubt, and the root of uncertainty grew with each passing moment. You couldn’t keep a straight mind after that and kept thinking, but raising Mason and the constant medical checks was a good distraction.

You continued to stare at the blank wall, with that moment replaying. To this day, you still feel like there is more to the story, like everyone is caught up with the truth, and you kept in the dark. You didn’t want to ignore your gut feeling. Still, for the years you called this place home, you were given no evidence to have doubt but just your ideas from decoding Jill’s demeanour, body language, and how she avoided your gaze in conversations about Leon and what had happened years ago.

But another bit of curiosity crept upon you—the restricted area. You were told that there were just experiments and research on the bioweapons from Umbrella; Jill showed you pictures of the enemies she and Chris encountered, but you thought about how Leon would be a good suspect for experimentation after you learned about where he had gotten infected.

‘What if he’s there?’ you thought.

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