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#you can hear the screams from the other side of town
suashii · 6 hours
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— 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝑜𝓌𝓁 ౨ৎ
boothill x f!reader. 2k wc. ノ sfw ノ vaguely suggestive bits ノ fluff ノ non-canon compliant ノ farmhand!boothill ノ pet names ( darlin’ + sweetheart :3 )
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it’s late—you know so because the sky has turned to a deep navy. you can hear the crickets chirping through the open window, feel the cool night breeze whisper against your skin. beyond those telling signs, your eyelids are beginning to feel heavy. they’re screaming at you to close them but you know that if you do, you’ll fall asleep in a second. you can’t do that now, not when you’re on the phone giving your weekly update to your friend back home. 
“so,” her voice crackles over the line, “how are things in farmville?”
you snort at meg’s nickname for the little town you’ve come to know as a second home. as much as she pokes fun at the idea of having a ranch to run away to, she’s been supportive of your decision to retreat here for solace. she keeps you in the loop when it comes to the drama unfolding in the office and listens attentively when you tell her what you’re up to on the farm.
you have a feeling she might be offended that you didn’t tell her this bit sooner.
“fine.” you draw the word out, rolling onto your other side on the couch as if repositioning will give you enough time to stall. despite not being able to see her face, you imagine that the woman is wearing an expression that says something along the lines of i know you’re hiding something. even through the phone, she can see through you. “i might have gotten a concussion a few days ago.”
she gasps and you can hear her slap her hand over her mouth. you’re sure if she could, she’d reach through the phone and shake you by the shoulders before thinking better of it and rushing out a string of apologies. though, she can’t, so she settles on questioning you instead. “what happened? are you okay? why the hell are you just now telling me?”
you relay the series of events to her—how it happened, boothill finding you, your visit to the doctor, and boothill playing nurse since then. her worry seems to dissipate as you explain and by the time you’re done, she’s laughing.
“what are you giggling about?” you ask her, but a little part of you already knows. boothill’s name always seems to make its way into your conversations and since the start of these weekly calls, meg has held onto the belief that you’re harboring a crush on the farmhand. you brush her off every time she suggests that you like him but like a leech, the thought always latches on and lingers.
“probably hard to deny your feelings now, huh?” you can hear the smile in her voice. you pucker your lips in annoyance. you didn’t think telling her about the way boothill makes you feel would result in meg throwing it back in your face at any given moment. though, you suppose you can’t be surprised. she’s frustrated that you’ll admit those feelings to her and not him, that you won’t act on them. “he’s already taking care of you like you’re his girlfriend—how romantic!”
“it’s not romantic,” you tell her, shaking your head, “he’d do that for anyone.”
“even better!” meg squeals. the shrill sound makes you pull the phone away from your ear and you only return it to its former position when the woman lowers her voice. “if he’s like that with everyone, that means he isn’t trying to impress you. he’s just a compassionate, caring guy who happens to have a thing for you.”
you chew on your cheek as you contemplate her words. you’ve never doubted that he’s a good guy—you’ve seen too many instances of his big heart in action to think otherwise, though, the part about boothill having a “thing” for you is a bit harder to believe. sure, he’s called you pretty numerous times, unintentionally held your hands on a couple of occasions, but that means nothing, at least when it comes to whatever feelings he might have for you. you’ve convinced yourself that most of the things he does that make your heart flutter or your cheeks burn are simply to get a reaction out of you—a little embarrassment for the sake of his entertainment.
“ugh, when are you going to be brave and spill your guts to him?” meg’s voice cuts through your thoughts.
“never! i’m not telling him anything.” you close your eyes and take a deep breath to ground yourself. “i don’t know how long i’ll be here and, more importantly, i have no idea if he even likes me.”
“and you’ll never find out if you keep running away.”
you’re about to tell her that you aren’t running away or avoiding anything but you press your lips together before the words can hit the air. because you have been—you can recall a number of times you have in the past and you’re even thinking about it now, leaving without coming to terms with your feelings or figuring out if boothill reciprocates them.
“i’m not—” not running away? not going to tell him? not ready to tell him? you huff out a sigh, one that’s a mixture of frustration and confusion. “not now, meg.”
“that’s fine,” she assures you, her voice soft. “i just don’t want you to regret anything.”
“i know.” you nod even though she can’t see you.
she’s right. you’ll regret it if you don’t say anything, if you go home without facing your feelings head-on. the what ifs and what could have beens will follow you there, mercilessly haunting your mind.
“it’s getting late,” you tell meg, “i think i’m going to go to bed.”
“sure,” she hums. there’s a brief pause like she wants to say more but she settles on, “good night.”
“g’night.” you pull your phone away to end the call and toss the device on the other end of the couch. you should go upstairs and get in bed like you planned to but all these thoughts so fresh in your head make you feel like falling asleep won’t come easy tonight. slumping against the arm on the couch, you let out a groan, one quiet enough to not wake your grandpa and boothill upstairs but loud enough to grant you the slightest bit of relief.
though, the sound is cut off by another. it comes from the kitchen and you sit up to peer over the back of the couch to see if you’re hearing things—you’d prefer it that way. your fantasy comes to an end when you see boothill standing at the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and closing the door once he’s finished.
he meets your gaze and shoots you a smile before uncapping the water and taking a few gulps. it’s strange seeing him at this hour; he usually sleeps early so he can wake up with the sun. you rarely ever see him wearing anything but his jeans and his top of choice but the look is traded in for pajamas now—if you can call nothing but a pair of boxers pajamas.
you gasp at the sight and turn around. he just wanders around the house half-naked? carelessly risks running into you while wearing nothing but his underwear? you might not have heard him but he certainly must have seen you stretched out on the couch or at the very least heard you talking to meg on the phone.
the call.
you quickly turn around to face him once more.
“how long have you been there?” the question comes out rushed but you’re frantic to know if he was around to hear you talking about him.
he shrugs and swallows, setting his bottle on the counter before leaning against it. “i don’t know. long enough to hear you’re having some boy troubles.”
the confession makes your heart jump into your throat. you choose not to expand on it, instead reprimanding him for eavesdropping. “it’s rude to listen in on conversations you aren’t part of.”
“my apologies.” he raises his hands in mock surrender. “i just didn’t wanna interrupt.”
you stare him down in an attempt to read his expression and the look in his eyes. his perpetual smile is in place like usual but nothing else about his countenance seems knowing. he’s either very good at hiding it or he didn’t pick up on the fact that he was the one you’re talking about.
“want some advice?” boothill speaks up, tilting his head in a question of its own.
you look at him for a second before a laugh bubbles up from your chest, permeating the air. boothill’s smile slowly falls and that’s the last you see of him before turning your back to him. it seems a little more polite to laugh at him if it isn’t in his face.
he doesn’t stay at his place in the kitchen, feet carrying him to the back of the couch. you’re still laughing when he gets there. he’s never heard you laugh like this before—not at anything he’s said or done. as captivated as he is by the sound, he’s a touch more curious as to what brought it about. a cushion in between you, he leans over the back of the couch to ask, “what’s so funny?”
“i’m sorry.” you try to clear the humor from your voice but it lingers with your explanation. you turn your head to look boothill in the eye. “it’s just—what do you know about problems of the male variety?”
“hello?” he straightens up and gestures to himself and it’s only then that you remember how…undressed he is. that’s enough to sober you up from your humor. “you’re looking at a man, sweetheart.”
you don’t need him to tell you that—you’re more than aware of that. you just meant that he doesn’t seem like the type to help people out of romantic hardships, rather, he’s the one who causes them. strangely enough, though, you consider hearing his perspective. after all, he is the subject of your “boy troubles” as boothill called them.
“so, how about it?” he rounds the couch and plops down on it beside you, leaving a safe amount of space between the two of you. you hold his gaze, light gray irises glowing like stars in the darkness of the living room. “wanna hear my opinion?”
your heart rate quickens and you can’t tell why. because he’s this close to you and practically naked? because those gray eyes are boring into you, urging you to hear him out? because his advice could be the courage you need to admit your feelings or the very deterrent to keep you from doing so? 
maybe you aren’t quite brave enough to spill your guts yet but it’s time for you to stop being so scared of the what ifs. “okay, go for it.”
that seems to be the answer boothill was looking for, if his growing smile is any evidence. he doesn’t waste any time sharing his insight. “i say throw caution to the wind, tell him how you feel. and if he doesn’t feel the same way, well then, that’s his loss. because you, darlin’, are a catch. any man would be lucky to have you.”
you know boothill isn’t one to sugarcoat his words. every word he says, he means. is that the case here, too? any man would be lucky to have you—would he feel the same if that man was him?
“i’m headin’ to bed.” he groans as he stands up, stretching his arms above his head, mouth falling open in a yawn. you watch him silently, pondering his words. he doesn’t comment on your silence, doesn’t bother to tease you about your staring. all he does is offer you a wink before telling you, “sweet dreams.”
just as quietly as he appeared, he’s gone.
you let out a shaky breath that you didn’t know you were holding. instead of following boothill’s lead and going to sleep, you rest your head on the arm of the couch and turn your eyes up to the ceiling. your heart is still beating wildly against your rib cage but it’s not bad nerves this time around, it’s anticipation.
courage it is.
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thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!
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dominoblues · 1 year
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During those worst 300 days of his life, following Anzu's encouragement, Mokuba started taking dancing lessons.
Fastfoward to a few years later, it seems that you can find online a 'very hot' (qtd.) video of his dance practice on 'Idol' by BTS that's making his fans (boys and girls alike) go crazy.
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dante-mightdie · 2 months
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Reader offering her body to viking!simon as an appreciation present for protecting her xx
yes yes absolutely yes everything about this is beautiful
c/w: pillaging, death, murder, blood, loss of virginity, p-in-v sex, you and simon have no game, simon is a blunt dickhead
perhaps the village gets raided in the middle of the night :( rival clan tearing through your lovely town and pillaging it. your husband is immediately storming out of bed, throwing on his armor and grabbing his axe. he’s silent when he picks you up, slings you over his shoulder and throws you into the wardrobe,
“stay.” he commands and you respond with a quick nod of your head, looking up at him with frightened eyes until he slams the doors closed
you’re there for a good hour until you hear movement in your home. you think for a moment it might be simon but you soon hear the sounds of wood splintering and crashing as this invader trashes your home
you keep a hand over your mouth, praying whoever this is decides not to check your hiding place. that was wishful thinking, you realise once the wardrobe door is ripped open and you’re met with the cold eyes of a rival warrior who wastes no time snatching you up and throwing you to the ground, desperate screams immediately leaving your throat
you pray that someone hears you but you’re not hopeful when all you can hear through the closed windows is the muffled sounds of screams, cries and burning buildings
you pick up whatever your trembling hands can reach and throw them at the warrior as you crawl back. but everything just seems to be bouncing off of him, causing no damage whatsoever
you close your eyes when you watch him raise his weapon, ready to bring it down on you. tears slip down your cheeks and you flinch, preparing for your short lived life to be over in such a brutal manner
but no such blow comes, instead you just hear the sounds of gargling. when you open your eyes, you see the soldier on his knees in front of you, your husbands axe hanging from the side of his neck as he chokes to death on his own blood
simon is stood above him, chest heaving and rage clouding his vision as he pulls the axe out, swinging it into the man’s neck one more time for good measure
he looks at you, the storm disappearing from his expression once he sees you trembling on the floor below him, frightened out of your mind. with one arm, he effortlessly scoops you up, holding you against him. with his other hand he retrieves his axe from the corpse at his feet
he carries you out of your destroyed home, not saying a word when you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and sniffle
“thank you…” you mumble, the delicate brush of your lips tickling his skin, filling him with a warm feeling that he’ll deny ever existed
he grunts in response, hoisting you up when you start to slip in his grip. he doesn’t speak much, is the first thing you figured out about him on your wedding night
you shield your eyes from the bloodshed and horror that now bestows your village, people of your clan lay dead in the once safe streets. simon says nothing as he carries you away from it all,
“is it over?” you ask, taking your face from his neck to look at him. he gives you a firm nod of his head. you don’t say anything about the dried blood he’s coated in, nor the fact that you can feel it staining your nightgown
after a while he carries you to a secluded part of the village, with survivors gathered around and setting up tents. being the second-in-command to the chief was clearly a perk as you and simon had been set up in a small, cozy cabin
“draw me a bath.” his rough voice cuts through the silence, shrugging off his armor and stripping down until he was bare in front of you. it never failed to bring a blush to your cheeks whenever he causally exposed his naked body to you
he hadn’t bedded you once since you had been married, you had shared once chaste kiss at your wedding ceremony and since then he had barely touched you. he didn’t seem particularly interested in having you perform traditional wifely duties, he never rejected it when you offered to bathe him after a long day or when you had dinner presented on the table for him
you both just kind of exist around each other. it hadn’t really dawned on you that he’s never even called you by your name, only speaking to you in blunt sentences
“oi. did you hear me?” he says, stopping to turn to you when he realised you hadn’t moved from your spot. you shake yourself from your thoughts and nod your head, scrambling over to the fire to begin boiling the water for his bath
he carries the heavy pots of boiling water for you, snatching them from your hands when he sees you nearly burn yourself. once his bath was finished, he climbed into the steaming water
you watch him from the bed, chewing on your lip and playing with your fingers as he scrubs his skin with the soap. his back is to you as your map out the scars littering the rippled muscle
you feel indebted to him. whilst he wasn’t the nicest man, he certainly wasn’t the cruelest. he was good to you in a strange way. he never forced himself on you, even on your wedding night. he had never uttered words with intent to hurt your feelings
you stand from your place on the bed and nervously stumble over to the tub, kneeling beside him. he doesn’t look at you when you take a cloth and begin cleaning his back
he lets his hands fall into the water, leaning forward ever so slightly. you notice how his eyes fall shut. he’s probably exhausted, you think to yourself
“would you like me to brush your hair, husband? I… I can-“ you question, looking at him as you run the soap through his hair and making an effort to detangle the mop on his head
“do what you want.” he grunts, shrugging his broad shoulders and dropping them down with enough weight to make the water splash
you nod your head even though he can’t see you. after a few minutes of, quite frankly, uncomfortable silence, you place the soap down as a silent signal that you were finished
he stands to all his glory, 6’4 with water dripping down from his hair all the way down his thigh defined thighs and back into the water. you immediately avert your eyes when you drag your eyes down to his cock, hanging heavy between his legs and pass him a towel
you gather a comb and place a pillow on the floor between your legs. still not bothering to get dressed, he just drops his tired body down leaving you no option but to spread your legs to accommodate his large frame
you spend a good 30 minutes trying to get the comb through his shaggy dirty blond hair but you eventually manage to tame it into a clean and detangled state. you use a tie from your wrist to tie it up into a messy bun so it will stay out of his face
“I-I’m finished…” you say, placing your hands on your lap to prevent yourself from reaching out and tracing the tattoos on his shoulder blades. as you expected, he just gives you a grunt, his way of saying thank you
you stand from the bed, watching as he moves around the room with his back to you
“simon?” you call out with hesitation, “would you… would you like to come to bed… with me?”
he turns to look at you, his brow furrowed with confusion, “I am… I’ll be there in a minute.”
you shake your head, taking your hand up to untie the front of your nightgown, “no… I mean… would you like to be intimate with me?”
you’re certain that your face must be bright red with embarrassment, but you power through as you slip your gown off. you’re stood naked in front of him, shifting on your feet as he stares you down with an unreadable expression
he shifts his whole body to you now, folding his arms over his chest as he looks you up and down
“say something, please.” you squeak out, your hands coming up to poorly cover your breasts. he lets out a small laugh in response and you think you’ve completely humiliated yourself
“you want me to fuck you?” he asks bluntly, taking one hand down to lightly fondle his flaccid cock. you nod your head eagerly, biting your lip
“you ever done tha’ before?” he smirks, cocking his head to the side. he’s quite enjoying this newfound confidence, if you can even call it that. you shake your head, fiddling with your fingers
“it’s gonna hurt.” he warns, raising his eyebrows and scanning your face for any form of hesitation
“will it feel good eventually?” you ask, a small glimmer of hope spreading in your eyes when you realise he’s actually considering your request. you expected him to shoot you down with a laugh
“maybe.” he shrugs, “you still want me to fuck you, little one?”
his hand is wrapped firmly around his cock now, stroking it until it was fully erect. you can’t take your eyes off it, not even to see the cocky smirk across his face
“yes.” you whisper out, “please.”
he cocks his head to the side, “get on the bed. spread your legs.”
you crawl onto the bed, laying on your back and folding your hands across your stomach. you chew on your lip, your eyes trained on the ceiling. you can’t bear to look at him as you spread your legs, giving him a clear view of your most intimate area
“want me to lick your cunt first?”
his words make your pussy ache. his blunt tone would be horrifying on anyone else but you know him now. it’s just who he is. it’s so amazingly him. the question is followed by the sound of spitting and the slick sounds of him stroking his cock
“I- yes- I just- I’m not sure i’ll like it.” you admit, sheepishly. you glance down when you feel the bed shift and his big hands wrap around your thighs. you see him knelt between your legs, lips inches away from your aching pussy
he grunts, and with no warning, he closes the gap and runs his tongue from your opening then all the way up to your clit. he wraps his lips around the bud, giving a harsh suck
you throw your head back, letting out a stuttered moan. your hands shift from their place to his hair, tugging on it and loosening a few strands which fall around his face
he spends a good bit of time trialling things out, learning what you like based on how much you yanked at his hair or bucked your hips
he slips a finger in your entrance once he’s sure you’re wet enough, groaning at the way your legs slam around his head. the feeling of your thighs clenching around his face makes his cock twitch against the mattress
your cunt takes his fingers greedily, sucking around his thick digits when he slips another one in. your hips buck up at his mouth when he flicks his tongue around your clit
you feel a tightening in your stomach after a fuck minutes of his fingers fucking in and out of you, scissoring them to stretch you wider for him. he waits until he can feel you right on edge and he hears your moans pick up to pull his fingers out
you let out a whine at the lack of contact, handing right on edge of your ruined orgasm
“quite yer whinin’. you can cum around my cock instead.” he groans, pumping his cock a few times before lining it up with your weeping pussy
he places one hand on the underside of your thigh and pushes it up as he pushes in slowly. you let out a gasp and grip his forearm, nails digging into his skin. he doesn’t stop, only slows his pace
“nearly there…” he groans just before he bottoms out, his pubic bone pressed against your clit. he grinds his hips slowly to help you adjust to the feeling of being stuffed full
“do that again…” you whine out, arching your back for him. he grinds his hips a few more times, waiting until there’s no resistance from you before actually beginning to fuck his cock in and out of you
you slam your hand over your mouth when you feel the tip of his cock brush against this spongy spot inside of your cunt
he shifts his position, moving so he’s kneeling on the bed. he wraps his arms around your thighs and tugs you so your ass rests on his thighs
he wraps a hand around his cock, gliding the tip through your folds one time before slipping back inside you. he uses his grip on your hips as leverage to fuck into you faster than before
the room is filled with a mixture of your moans and his grunts along with the sound of his balls slapping your ass
your hands move to rest on his shoulders to keep you straight as he rams his cock into your cunt. that familiar tight feeling creeps up on you soon again. you tap his shoulder lightly
“si- simon… ‘m gonna- fuck-“ you cry out, throwing your head back against the pillows
“me too, little one. come on… cum around your husbands cock…” he grunts, leaning forward to put you in a mating press. his permission was all you needed to let go, your cunt pulsing around his cock erratically
he gives you a few more sloppy thrusts before pulling his cock and out, desperately jerking it a few times before he paints his load all over your tummy. he rubs the tip against your clit to milk your orgasm, the final remnants of his cum dribbling out onto your pussy
he doesn’t enjoy the afterglow of his orgasm very long before he’s standing up and grabbing a cloth to clean you both up. he blows out the candles that light up your bedroom before wrapping you both up in blankets and furs
he lays on his back, tucking you under his arm so you can rest your head on his shoulder. you lay away from him, wrapping your arms around his bicep and pressing your face into the muscle
in tune with his usual character, he doesn’t say a word to you but this is progress, you think. a soft smile gracing your lips as you drift off into a peaceful slumber
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togenabi · 8 months
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pick me up
roronoa zoro (opla) x reader
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♡—zoro never paid your jokes or pickup lines any mind. that is, until something happens that makes you stop.
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word count♡— 3.2k
genre♡— mild angst, fluff, straw hat!reader
content notes♡— opla zoro, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and tells very bad jokes, creepy dude oc, don't be creepy be cool yall, reader pulls off a heist with nami, zoro gets jealous, alcohol consumption, no use of y/n, barely proofread
also on♡— ao3
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author's note♡— this is a request from anon! I'm sorry if I tweaked a few things, I'm not the best at angst hhhh I hope you still like it!
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“Okay, okay. Wait. I got it this time.” You say, already trying to keep from laughing. 
“Why were the kids having trouble in pirate class?”
Zoro only side-eyes you with his arms crossed, vehemently unimpressed. 
“Because they were overbored!” 
Watching for his reaction intently, you keep your eyes focused on his face... Nothing changes. 
You tsk, but aren’t seriously discouraged. This is how he always reacts to your jokes, after all. “I’ll get you one of these days, Roronoa Zoro.”
The swordsman only sighs, leaning back into his seat to take a nap. “You do that.”
“Don’t listen to him, love.” Sanji says from the other side of the kitchen as he cleans the counter. “I thought that joke was good.”
“You’re lying, but I appreciate the sentiment, Sanji.” You grin at him. Focusing back on the book you were reading, you miss the amused, challenging look Sanji sends Zoro.
Everyone hears Luffy approaching the kitchen before he enters. “Guys!” He bellows. “We’ll be reaching land soon. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes!”
The majority of the day is spent restocking supplies. You were all split up into pairs, but before you left, Luffy pointed to a restaurant with a flashy, illuminated sign on top that reads: ‘Bistro of Light’. How cringey of them.
“We should meet there for dinner! You don’t mind taking a break, right, Sanji?” Luffy asks eagerly, and you think that no one could say no to him when he’s so enthusiastic. Sanji nods, and you all go through the town until the sun starts to set.
The inside of the restaurant is just as ridiculous as the sign outside. Chandeliers of every color hang on the ceiling. Huge fish tanks and fountains lined with lights almost blind you. You laugh when looking at it all causes Zoro to wince. 
“Hey Zoro,” You call for him. “You know what’s faster than the speed of light?”
“...”
“My heartbeat when I think of you!” You wink at him, proud of the joke even when he only sighs and looks away.
Usopp walks up to a receptionist standing behind a desk. “Hey. Table for six, if you would be so kind.”
“I’m afraid we’re at full capacity at the moment.” They respond. “You’ll have to wait, is that alright?”
Everyone shares a look. Except for Luffy, who looks dead set on eating here, you all feel unsure about waiting.
“When’s the next table going to be available?” Usopp asks. “We’re actually a really big deal. It’s gonna be really embarrassing for you guys if you don’t let us in.” The person frowns, face screaming, ‘is this guy serious’?
But before they can reply, a booming voice enters the restaurant. A tall man, dressed in a pristine white suit and wearing jewels on every finger, pushes you out of the way to yell at the receptionist. You stumble, but thankfully Zoro is there to catch you.
“What on earth is going on here?! Why are there so many people crowding the entryway?!” He fumes, angrily gesturing to your group. 
“If they’re not going to eat, then I strongly suggest—” The rich man freezes suddenly, his eyes trained on you.
You keep your face as emotionless as possible, but you die laughing inside when Nami swipes a brooch from his jacket while he’s distracted with you.
“Ah,” The man says. His tone softening a considerable amount as he walks over to you. “I thought I had the best jewels in my treasury, but you're the most radiant gem I've ever laid my eyes on.” It takes everything in you to not back away. Zoro tenses beside you.
“Why haven’t these guests been guided to a table?” He asks, turning back to the receptionist.
“We’re at full capacity, Sir.” Oh. He must own the place. It makes sense that the owner is as gaudy as everything else in here.
“That won’t do.” He looks back to you, and you swear you could feel your skin crawl under his gaze. 
“I am Helios. Welcome to my establishment.” The man introduces himself with a flourish, bowing to you. His jewels and gold accessories glint in the light. “What might your name be?”
Reluctantly, you introduce yourself. Had this been a normal situation, you would have turned around and walked away from him the second he saw you. But, you could feel the crew going hungry, and you’re sure Nami will want to snag another ring or two—so you play nice.
Helios smiles, repeating your name. He was probably trying to sound romantic, but he’s not doing anything for you. Not when Zoro says your name much better.
You keep Zoro’s voice in mind, remembering how nice it sounds. It’s easier to smile at Helios that way. Time to lay on the charm, “I was really looking forward to having dinner here. I don’t suppose you could help us out?”
“Follow me, my dear. You deserve to dine upstairs. The view is simply spectacular at this hour.” Helios holds out his hand to you, but Luffy—bless his soul—grabs it to shake it zealously.
“Thanks so much for letting us eat here, Mr. Helios!” Luffy claps him on the back. Helios looks dumbfounded, and the crew does an impressive job keeping their composure. 
Helios tries to walk beside you as he guides you all upstairs, but Zoro is steadfast on your right, and Nami smartly positions herself on your left. Luffy and Usopp tug the restaurant owner along, chatting his ear off. You almost feel bad for him. 
Nami murmurs, her voice carefully silent so only you can hear. “Treasury, huh?”
You smile. “Of course you’d be curious about that.”
“Think you could get us to his mansion?” She dares you, eyes aglow at the promise of a good heist.
“I know I can.” You pause walking to check your reflection on an ornate, sun-shaped mirror. After fixing your hair, you grin at your friends. “I’m irresistible, after all.”
Maybe if you weren’t busy buttering up your host, you would have noticed that Zoro wasn’t eating properly. Normally, you would force him to eat. You would pile food on his plate, telling that joke about fake noodles being impasta that always cracks you up.
Zoro frowns at the meal in front of him. The fish seems to frown back. Sighing, he decides to just order another drink. But no matter what he consumes, a bitter taste always blooms in his mouth afterwards. 
The glass in his hand almost cracks when he hears your voice sucking up to Helios again. “So, you own this place? Do you live around here?”
Helios leans far too close towards you, but you grin and bear it. “Would you like a private tour, my gem?”
You place a hand on his arm, he may read it as affection, but you hold him so he keeps that distance. “That sounds wonderful.”
Zoro huffs under his breath. He needs another drink. 
Thankfully, Helios serves good booze at his manor. Zoro almost didn’t want to drink any of it, but he needs alcohol in his system if he has to watch you flirt with this idiot so Nami can rob him blind. Whatever she steals better be worth all this, or else he might punch something. Or someone. Preferably Helios.
You share a look with Nami and give her an imperceptible nod. With that signal, she passes by and pretends to lose her footing. Wine seeps into your clothes, staining the fabric and sticking it to your skin. Did she really have to pick red wine? You liked this shirt.
“Oh, my dear!” Helios gasps. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll have my servants draw you a bath and bring you fresh clothes.”
“I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” Nami loops her arm through yours. “Let me help you with that.” 
And so, with another fake smile sent Helios’ way, you rush with Nami to find the treasury.
“Be quick.” Nami says once you enter the luxurious bathroom prepared for you. 
As tempting as the bubble bath is, you only take a few wet towels to tidy up. You step into the curtained area, about to strip when Nami holds out a hand to stop you.
“Wait.” She says, her tone serious. A teddy bear holding a rose is propped up on a shelf behind you. Tapping its eyes, Nami scowls before throwing the bear into the trash bin.
“A camera?” She nods. “Seriously? What a creep.”
You and Nami inspect the room. It’s not clear if there are other hidden cameras, but she stands guard in front of the shower curtains just in case.
“Hey,” She starts. “Did you notice Zoro acting weird tonight?”
You frown as you change into the dress Helios prepared. “What do you mean?”
Nami hums in thought. “He’s just…” A dumbass, she wants to say, but doesn’t. “He seems extra grumpy.”
That causes you to laugh. “I guess I should prepare more jokes for him when we get back.”
She winces. “...I’m not that sure he likes those.”
“Hm… Maybe not, but,” You pause to think. He may not laugh loudly as Luffy does, but he never shot you down for being bubbly around him. “Zoro would have told me to shut up by now if he didn’t, right?”
“Huh.” Nami says. “You got a point.”
You push the curtains aside, grinning at her. “Come on, let’s break into that treasury.”
“Of course, my gem.”
“Oh my god, if that sticks I’m going to be so mad.”
The treasury was a vault full of everything from jewels to ornamental weapons. Nami playfully crowned you with a diamond tiara, and she put on dangling emerald earrings that looked stunning on her.
After filling your bags and pockets with the most you can carry, you and Nami head out to find the others. You run into Usopp on the way back to the lounge.
“I see you two cleaned up well.” He jokes. “Luffy and Sanji are in the kitchen. I was just on my way there.”
“Where’s Zoro?” You ask.
“With Helios. You know him, still drinking.”
“We should leave soon.” Nami insists. “We risk getting caught the longer we stay.”
“Right.” You hand Usopp your bag, his eyes widen comically when he feels how heavy it is. “I’ll just go say goodbye, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
Before you even enter the lounge, however, you hear Zoro speak your name. Are they talking about you? You press your back against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.
You almost wish you didn’t.
“She tells the worst jokes and doesn’t know when to quit it. Thinks she’s hilarious but she’s really not.” Zoro speaks in that deep voice that would usually be comforting to you—but his words now pierce through you painfully.
“What exactly is your relationship with her?” Helios asks, and Zoro is silent. It feels like your heart crumbles for every second he doesn’t answer.
You’re friends! You’ve been dreaming of more but, you’ve always been friends.
…Aren’t you? Doesn’t he think so?
“I don’t know.” Your heart fully shatters. What does he mean he doesn’t know? “She just sticks to me a lot. It can get annoying.”
“Well. That’s unfortunate, but it’s nothing to sob over.” Helios kisses his teeth. “I don’t care about her attitude. All that doesn’t matter as long as she has that pretty face.”
You wait for Zoro to say something. Anything. You want him to cut Helios where he stands.
But he doesn’t. The silence drags on. The air feels like it’s pushing you down, crushing your lungs. You have to get out of here.
You burst into the kitchen, trying your best not to cry. Nami immediately rushes to you, holding your shoulders to steady you. “What happened?”
Letting out a shuddered breath, you whisper, “You were right.” It’s impossible to think straight right now. “I want to leave.”
You look to Luffy, still shaken up. Your captain’s expression is serious as he nods. “Go ahead, we’ll get Zoro and catch up.” Not needing to be told twice, you head out the door.
Before she follows you, Nami hisses at Sanji, “Talk some sense into that dumbass, won’t you?”
The entire walk back to the Going Merry is silent. You’re grateful Nami doesn’t immediately press you for what happened, but you know that you should answer her questions. You finally get the words out in the safety of her cabin.
You sit cross-legged on the bed, and everything comes pouring out. “He called me annoying.” 
“Zoro?” She asked, offering you a box of tissues.
“Yeah.” You sniff, taking the box.
“I’m sorry. That was fucked up of him to say.”
Unsure how to properly comfort you, Nami gets up and retrieves extra pillows from a storage compartment.
“Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” Nami asks, offering you a smile. It pulls a smile out of you too, the first one you mustered since Zoro crushed your spirit. 
“I’d like that.” 
Zoro is confused to find that you and Nami had left before them. Luffy gave Helios some lame excuse that you weren’t feeling well, but Zoro knew better. If you were really sick, the whole crew would be panicking and rushing to get to you.
He stares at Sanji and Usopp, trying to piece together what really happened. They both turn away from him, refusing to say anything.
In the next second, a maid rushes out, panting and screaming, “Mr. Helios! The treasury has been robbed!”
Fine. Answers can come later. For now, they need to run.
Once they’re back on the ship, Sanji follows Zoro into his cabin. He stares at the chef blankly, “Get out.”
“Did you do something?” Sanji leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Get out.” Zoro repeats, about to push him out of the room when Sanji speaks your name.
“She was upset. Asked to leave as soon as possible.” Sanji’s gaze is almost menacing, and his frown deepens when Zoro’s face falls. So, that’s what happened. You had heard him.
“Fuck.” Zoro groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Everyone noticed you getting bitchy over Helios.” Sanji notes “Did you confront him or something?”
Scoffing, Zoro sits on his hammock, the fabric dips under his weight. “It was something, all right.”
Wanting Zoro to explain himself unpromptedly, Sanji just watches him and lets the silence hang in the air. After a solid, suffocating minute, the swordsman caves.
“I called her annoying.” Zoro breathes out deeply. “I said her jokes aren’t funny and that she sticks to me a lot.”
“Man, that’s screwed up.” Sanji gapes. “I thought you cared about her?”
“Of course I do, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Zoro defends. “Luffy’s the only one who laughs at her jokes, and she’s always by my side.” 
Sighing, Zoro continues, “...but I never minded any of it. I learned to care for those parts of her a long time ago. I was only trying to get that shithead off her back.”
“You’re an idiot.” Sanji concludes. “You have the emotional depth of a sink, sometimes.”
Zoro, surprisingly, doesn’t insult the chef back. He stares at the wall, slouched and looking the most empty Sanji’s ever seen him.
“What should I do?” He asks. “How should I make it up to her?”
Sanji’s eyes light up, he beams and claps his hands together in excitement. Even if Zoro hasn’t heard it yet, he already dreads the chef’s suggestion. 
“I have an idea.”
When you woke up the next morning, you had every intention of avoiding Zoro like the plague. It was still really difficult to look at him, the hurt you felt still stings your heart. 
But unfortunately for you, he had other plans. 
You’re gazing out into the sea on the forecastle deck when you hear a familiar set of heavy footsteps. You sigh. “I don’t want to talk, Zoro.”
“I’m not here to talk.” You turn to him questioningly, but you really shouldn’t give him the time of day. Wasn’t he the one who complained about you clinging to him?
You don’t say anything. Only glaring at him and hoping he sees how disappointed you feel. Zoro stands here, appearing strangely vulnerable. If you weren’t so hurt, you would have hugged him by now. 
But you are. So he has to wallow in the awkwardness of the consequences of his words. He—wait. What’s that on his face?
“I…” Is he… blushing? “I’m sorry I wasn’t around in the past.” 
You make a face and blink at him. What is he up to?
“...Can I be part of your future?”
That knocks the wind right out of you, your jaw practically falls to the floor. Did Roronoa Zoro just use a pickup line? On you? You can’t help but glance at your surroundings to check if the sky is still blue.
No—hold on. He can’t win you over just like that. He needs to explain why he said what he did. 
“You said my jokes are the worst.” You grumble.
“They are.” Zoro looks straight into your eyes as he speaks. “But you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”
“You said I always stick to your side.”
He doesn’t miss a beat and answers earnestly, “You do. And I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”
“…You said you didn’t know what our relationship is.”
That causes Zoro to pause, searching your eyes as if he’ll find the answer in them. “…I don’t.”
Oh, this impossible sword-brain of a man. Your lips quiver, and you realize you can’t fight back your smile anymore. “I love you, Zoro.”
His expression shifts from anxiousness to shock, relief, and a bit of something else... 
“I love you, too.” Ah, of course. Love, that too.
Slowly, tentatively, he raises his arms, inviting you to an embrace. He’s adorable, looking a teensy bit nervous that you wouldn’t want to hold him. Giggling, you rush to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he envelops your shoulders. 
“I bet Sanji taught you to apologize with that line.” You murmur into his chest. “If you tell me another one…” Zoro cringes, his frame tensing. 
“...I’ll give you a kiss.” His expression lifts, seriously considering it.
After a minute, Zoro clears his throat. You almost squeal in excitement.
“Roses are red, violets are blue…” A classic. This is going to be good.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward, I just want to have dinner with you.” You gasp, squeezing him tighter. 
“Yes! That was perfect.” Laughing, you reach up and hold his face to keep your promise. 
You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone for you. He probably would, if you’re being honest.
“You’re perfect.” He breathes, mouth against yours and then he’s kissing you again.
Hiding behind a pile of crates, the rest of the crew whoop and cheer. (Silently.)
“That was such a good line!” Luffy whispers.
“I still think he should have used the ‘I don’t speak angel’ one.” Usopp whispers back.
“What are you talking about?!” Sanji angrily, quietly mutters. “That was perfect because he apologized and delivered the line.”
“Shut it, you guys. I was right, he didn’t last a day with her mad at him.” Nami holds out her palm. “Pay up.” The others groan, handing her some berry. All’s well that ends well.
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wondersinwaynemanor · 2 months
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how can Gothamites speculate that the Wayne kids are vigilantes when those kids can't even watch a horror movie properly without being scared and screaming and hiding under the covers, they even sleep together in the movie room because they're a bit creeped out from the movie they watched so they don't want to sleep in their individual rooms.
in the movie room:
Dick, clinging to Duke's arm: Everybody, wake up, I think I heard something.
Duke, tightly holding the blankets: I knew it wasn't all in my head. Heard something too.
Steph, moves closer to Damian's side: Shush. That's not funny. Why is the door suddenly open???
Damian, doesn't want to admit it but moves closer to Dick: Tt. That film was appalling. And I would never cower in fear.
Jason, groans, although adjusts the blankets so that it can cover him and his other siblings: Would you all shut up? If I don't get enough sleep, I'm blaming all of you. You already dragged me here to watch that film.
Tim, slightly more awake than before, adjusting the sleeves of the jacket he's wearing: Can someone turn on the lights? I think someone is right outside the door.
Duke: Hold up, maybe I can-
footsteps are heard just right outside the room.
Jason: What the fuck?
Steph: Someone go and check it out.
Damian: No one shall order me around.
Tim: Maybe Bruce is back?
Dick: You know B is out of town for another week, and Alfie - AAAAAA!
the rest of the Wayne kids: AAAAAAAAA!
they all get startled as Cass passes by the door in her Black Bat suit.
Cass snickers as she hears her family screaming, cursing and blaming each other for choosing the horror film.
she will never tell them it was just her by the door.
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gojos-thot-patrol · 9 months
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Starring: True from! Sukuna in a cabin in the woods... Synopsis: You don't see the point in it; chasing myths on Halloween night, going deeper into the woods than you ever had before. You'd rather be at home than chasing ghosts. But, your best friend insists on finding evidence of the local urban legends, and surely she won't abandon you the moment you find what shes been hunting, right? Content Warning: Tonight we are serving True form (two dicks) Sukuna, double penetration, tummy bulges, cunnilingus, kidnapping, marking, slight dubcon, and a soft Sukuna if you squint. reader discretion is advised
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“So, remind me again why we’re taking a walk in the woods on Halloween night?” You asked your friend, narrowly avoiding a thorn vine as you pushed past the brush. 
“Because, historically speaking, people tend to see it on Halloween!” She explained, holding up her camera, “It’s our best chance of finding evidence of the spider demon.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her optimism.
“I don’t know if “Historically” is the right word to use there,” you grumbled softly as you continued your walk together. Ever since the two of you had started taking that Folklore Studies class for an extra college credit she had become obsessed with the local urban legend: The Spider Demon. To her credit, it was a genuinely interesting topic. 
As far back as town hall kept records of, there were sightings of the beast: a giant humanoid man that was covered in ancient markings, with four arms, four eyes, and a giant mouth on his abdomen. Rumor has it, he was the one at fault for all the disappearances that plagued your small town, dragging poor, innocent souls into some far off lair and feasting on their flesh. 
The sane people knew the real reason for the disappearances though; most of those kids hopped a train and got the fuck out of that dying town while they still could. You couldn’t say you blamed them. If you didn’t go to school here, one of the cheaper colleges around, you wouldn’t be here either. 
Your thoughts came to a halt as the two of you came up on an old stream. You knew it well as the boundary between where it was acceptable to play in the woods, and where was off limits. Everyone in the town had followed this rule. Your great grandparents had this rule engraved in their soul as kids, just as your parents and grandparents had, just as you had. And just as your kids would one day. No one really knew why you weren’t supposed to cross the water, just that you weren’t.
And your best friend was trying to hop across. “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doin’?!” You yelled as you grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She looked at you as if you had just grown two extra heads.
"I'm crossing the stream?" She asked as if you were the insane one here.
"Yeah, I can see that dipshit!" You snapped, "Why the hell would you do that?!"
"To get to the other side?"
"What are you, a chicken?! You know we're not supposed to cross this stream." Your friend dramatically rolled her eyes, making her annoyance clear.
"The only chicken here is you Y/n." She scoffed. "Come on, it's just water. It can't hurt you." She said in a tone meant to mock assurance. It grinded your bones and made you wonder why you were friends to begin with.
"Don't be like that. Everyone in this town has been told since birth not to cross that stream, there has to be a reason why."
"The reason why is probably so little kids don't drown." She explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. It made you want to rearrange her teeth. "I'm going to cross the stream and keep the hunt going, are you with me or not Y/n?" She asked.
You took a deep breath. You absolutely were not with her. Every fiber in your being was setting off red flags, you could hear your ancestors screaming at you to turn around, somewhere from the great beyond, both Cain and Abel look at you and say "girl, don't do it." 
And yet, you started to jump across the rocks. As annoying as your friend was, she was still your friend, and you couldn't let her go alone. Your ancestors all collectively face palm, your nerves explode, Cain turns to Abel and shakes his head. There's no saving you now. You swore the air temperature dropped by at least three degrees as you made it to the other side of the stream. You cursed softly as you wrapped your jacket tighter around you, and rushed to catch up with your friend.
“See? We crossed the water and we didn’t explode! Some rules are just made to be broken.” She seemed confident in that, but you still weren’t. Something was so…off. Wrong. But you couldn’t figure out what. The moon was still as full as ever, lighting your way as the two of you walked. Your friend seemed fine, as chatty as hell even. And you were physically okay. Leaves crunched under your shoes, and the crickets chirped-
Wait. No they didn’t. “Hey, shush.” You demanded of your friend.
“What!? Why should I-”
“I said Shut. Up.” You snapped, an unfamiliar edge to your voice taking even you by surprise. She shut up, and you struggled to listen to the sounds of the forest. Except, there were no sounds of the forest. No crickets singing, no owls hooting, not even the rustle of a field mouse in the grass. The woods were completely silent, filled with nothing but the sound of your breathing. 
“Do you hear that?” You asked your friend.
“I don’t hear anything.” She scoffed.
“Exactly. We need to turn back.”
“What?! No way!” She protested with a stomp of her foot. You were really starting to think that Darwinism would not look kindly upon your friend.
“The woods are completely quiet.” You pointed out, “That doesn’t happen unless it has a reason to be quiet. We’re not welcome here.” You tried to argue. You would have been better off arguing with the moon itself. Your friend just shook her head as she continued to walk.
“The woods are always quiet Y/n, its what makes it so peaceful, or whatever.”
“But not this quiet!” You pleaded as you chased after her, still not willing to let her die out here alone. “Dude, please, we need to go-!”
“Ooo, whats that!” Your “best friend” quickly changed the topic as she pointed out a building off in the distance, running off to check it out. You felt your stomach fall to the floor. Who would build anything out here? You ran to follow her, deciding to just drag her back home if you had to. 
“Its a house!” She pointed out with a laugh as the two of you reached the edge of a lawn, “And they even decorated for Halloween, how sweet.” You looked at the house, an old wooden cabin that looked like something a pilgrim would have built back in the 1700s. You were shocked to see lights glowing in the window, indicating the building had electricity. That wasn’t what unnerved you the most though.
That would be the bones littering the yard. Animal and human alike, some looking older than others. All strewn about as if thrown there without any care, or sense of design. They looked more like discarded trash than they did decor, and a morbid part of your brain forced you to ask; do those maybe look a little too real to be made of plastic? You blood felt colder than ice as your throat contracted, an unseen anaconda choking you as your knees threatened to give out.
This place was cursed. “You should go knock.” Your friend smirked.
“I would rather die.” You whispered.
“I’m serious!” She laughed, “Go trick or treating! You’d probably be the first one to do so here.” 
“No way, this isn’t right. Why would they “decorate” for Halloween all the way out here? Why are they out here to begin with? It doesn’t make sense, we need to go.”
“Well, I’m not leaving until you go knock on the door.” Your friend shrugged as if she wasn’t signing your death certificate. “These kind people deserve trick or treaters, and I deserve to take a picture of you scared shitless as you knock on the door.” She laughed.
“That’s not funny!” You snapped, your patience growing thinner as your anxiety grew.
“Oh come on Y/n! Don’t be such a bitch, just go knock on the door and then we can go, okay? I promise.”
“...Swear?” You asked softly, at this point willing to do whatever it took to leave these woods and go home.
“Swear.” Your best friend smiled, locking her pinky with yours. Her smile as angelic, enough to trick you into a facade of ease. You took a deep breath as you approached the door, carefully avoiding the skeletons as you walked. Did they looked chewed on? You didn’t want to think too hard about it. You could feel your heart in your throat, the false courage of your friends pinky promise fleeing faster and faster with every step you took closer to this house. It radiated death.
Climbing the creaky stairs was harder than you anticipated, your jittering joints protesting the very act. You reached a trembling fist to the splintering wooden door, knocking as soft as possible. “H-Hello?” You called out, hating the way your voice quivered, “Trick or Treat!” Your entire body tried to collapse in on itself, the only thing keeping you from doing so was the primal instinct to maintain your ability to run should you so need.
You waited a few seconds, then let out a shaking breath as no one came to the door. As you turned back to your friend, you were blinded by the flash of a camera, freezing you in your place. The sounds of her cackle filled you with rage. You really needed you friends. 
You rolled your eyes. “There I knocked. Are you happy? Can we please go home no-” your words died in your throat as you heard the door open.
“Trick.” a rough deep voice said, deeply unfamiliar to you. You watched your friends face contort into fear and her jaw unhinged itself into a scream as she scrambled to get away. Though, you weren’t able to hear her panic, the ringing in your ears becoming deafening as you felt your feet fall from underneath you, a python of an arm squeezing your stomach as you were lifted into the air, and into the house. 
You tried to grab the door frame as you were dragged into hell, becoming aware of your own screaming ripping through your throat as the frame was ripped from your fingers and the door shut in your face.
“Quite mortal.” The voice said again, and you almost instantly shut up. Something primal in your DNA sequencing knowing better than to piss off this devil. The monster turned you over in his hands, turning you to face him. Your soul left your body. You took in the visage of the beast, your panicking brain struggling to process what was in front of you.
 A giant humanoid man, with four arms, four eyes, and a face and chest full of ancient markings. He was holding you too close to properly see it, not to mention the fact that he was wearing a regal robe, but you would bet an unreasonable amount of money he had a sickening smile on his belly. You were in The Spider Demons claws.
And worst of all, he was kinda cute? Like, maybe it was the unshakeable sense of death that rattled your soul and turned your brain into mush, but if he was like- a normal guy with a normal amount of arms and eyes, you would have been smitten! You were kinda smitten now, even if you didn’t want to admit that. God you…really really hoped this whole experience wasn’t awakening something in you. This would be something to unpack in therapy later- if you survived this.
The demon took your chin in a free hand, turning your head as he examined you. You smelled divine. If you had been a sacrifice for him, he would have given whoever picked you out an A++ for finding you, and a bit more leniency for a while. But, he knew you weren’t a sacrifice. The townsfolk had declared him their enemy long ago, and had been facing the consequences ever since. So, that begged the question.
“Tell me, whats a pretty thing like you doing at my doorstep on the most haunted night of the year?” He asked, turning your head to look him in the eye. 
“Wishing you were a myth.” You went with the first thing that came to your head and instantly regretted it. That might have been a little too honest for this situation. But, at least he seemed to find humor in it, snickering at your quip.
“Keep wishing then human, I’m all too real.” He chuckled darkly. 
“Yeah, I-I see that…Are you going to kill me?” Your voice was shakier than you intended as you asked. You hated it, but the anticipation of what he was going to do was more painful that anything he could have actually done.
“I haven’t decided yet.” He mused as he continued his examination of you. He smiled cruelly as he felt your pulse quicken under his hands. He could smell your fear, and it was intoxicating. Your eyes, blown wide with fear, were stirring something deep down inside of him, and making you far more interesting than any other human he had come across in years.
Or, maybe it had just been a while since he had anyone to fuck. Granted, he had stolen plenty of mortals from your small town, but most of the time they died in the process. Corpses held no interest to him for anything other than food. But you? You were alive and warm, and vulnerable in his claws. That fact alone made the notion of keeping you alive for a little longer far more enticing than killing you just yet. 
“Um, anything I could do to help you make that decision?” You asked softly.
“The decision to kill you?” he questioned
“Well, the decision not too!” You quickly clarified, “Dying sounds kinda, well, not fun  and with you being like, a real thing that kinda makes me question well everything as far as mythology goes and that makes dying really fucking scary and-”
“You’re rambling mortal.” He sneered in annoyance.
“Right! My bad I just- please don’t kill me. I’ll do anything not to die.” You begged, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as you grappled with being forced to face the unknown. You had the beasts attention though, an eyebrow raising at your offer.
“Anything?” He purred, his eyes falling to the swell of your chest and making you greatly regret your word choice. “Anything at all?”
“Anything.” You whispered softly. You reasoned with yourself that this was for your life and definitely not because the thought of getting railed by a blood thirsty demon made you squish your thighs together in anticipation. You for sure didn’t feel a rush of arousal as the thought of something meant to kill you making you cum instead crossed your mind. That didn’t happen, no way, not at all. You weren’t wondering if his dick was as monstrous as he was, or if his markings graced it as well.
“Alright then Human, deal.” He grinned wickedly as he brushed a stray hair behind your ear. “I’ll let you live, if you give your body to me first.” You felt your face burn at his proposal. Something felt fundamentally wrong about spreading your legs for a demon. You weren’t religious or anything, but that had to be some sort of sin. But, if it was for your life, surely you could indulge- I MEAN- endure. 
“Before I agree, we’re not talking about possession, right?” You had to clarify. He smirked at your words. You were cleaver to ask, it showed a familiarity with the supernatural. Maybe you weren’t as foolish as you first seemed after all.
“Smart girl. But no, we’re not talking about possession.” He confirmed. 
“Okay, cool, just checking.” You chuckled nervously. “You got yourself a deal.” His smirk turned into a dark grin as his free hands rushed to your clothes. You panicked, knowing he was going to rip them off and you’d be forced to walk back in the nude. That would have been mortifying.
“Wait wait wait!” You yelped, holding up your arms to stop his hands. 
“What?” He growled, annoyance flooding his tone.
“Let me undress myself.” You requested, “Please? I’ll make it worth your while.” He seemed intrigued and amused, setting you on the ground with an almost unnerving gentleness. 
“Will you now? Lets see.” He hummed. You nodded, taking a few steps back. You took a deep breath and shrugged your jacket off your shoulders. You had never been particularly good at being sexy, at least not in your opinion. But, The monsters eyes could have convinced you otherwise. The way he watched you undress, as if he was a starving man looking at a thanksgiving feast, or a hungry demon looking at his next meal. It gave you the confidence to put on a proper show, teasing him as you slowly shed your clothes.
“I’m Y/n by the way,” You said as your hands reached to unhook your bra, “You got a name, or is it just spider demon?” He huffed humorlessly at your quip. He never liked that title. 
“Ryomen Sukuna,” He said, his eyes setting fire to your skin as you finally dropped your bra for him, “you can call me Sukuna.” 
“Noted.” You nodded as you dropped your panties. His lustful grin showed off his incredibly sharp fangs as he dropped his own robe, the only thing covering him. You confirmed the mouth theory, seeing it spread and hungrily panting across his toned abs. Your breath hitched when you saw when he was working with. 
His dick- or rather, dicks- looked human enough despite the markings, but they were longer and thicker than anything you had taken before. And again, there were two of them. They stood hard and proud against his stomach, twitching to be inside you. You didn’t know if the buzzing in your hands and legs was from regret, or excitement.
You didn’t have time to figure it out either before you were taken back into the demons arms, this time with less violence and more neediness. He pressed you to his stomach, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist and leaving you open to him.
“You’re pretty brave for a human, you know that?” He complimented as a large tongue lolled out of his stomach mouth and against your soaking core. He chuckled darkly as the muscle shoved itself into your weeping cunt, making you gasp at the sudden stretch, “And such a slut too.”
“Hey, this was your idea, not mine.” You reminded him though breathy moans, trying to ground yourself as your hips bucked against his giant mouth. Every movement of the tongue felt like being touch for the first time, a ripple of pleasure coursing though your stomach and legs, and making you wonder there was something supernatural going on to make a demonic act feel so heavenly.
“True,” He agreed, “But you’re the one that's gushing for a monster when I’ve hardly touched you.” he reminded you, watching the way your face contorted with pleasure as you dropped the act of innocence. He didn’t know what was more arousing to him, watching your resolve dissolve, or just how sweet you tasted as you desperately you rode his tongue. “I was going to kill you just a few moments ago, you know that right?” He growled into you ear.
“Yeah, but you’re fucking me instead. Sounds like a win to me.” You grinned and he laughed at your sudden audacity. He knew he liked you.
“You really are a whore, Aren’t you?” He teased as his tongue slipped out of your cunt and into your ass instead, watching the way your breasts bounced as you flinched and moaned at the sudden intrusion. 
“Not a whore if it’s for my life.” You whined, digging your nails into his shoulders. You were starting to feel light headed from the pleasure pooling in your stomach, your cunt clenching around nothing, pissed off from the loss.
“Whatever you have to tell yourself.” He chuckled as his face fell to the crook of your neck, taking in your intoxicating smell. He could feel his dicks twitch with need as he kissed you there, fighting every instinct in his body to keep from digging his teeth into the thin skin. He tasted your sweet slick as it dripped from your cunt and onto the middle of his tongue, and finally he withdrew the muscle. 
You whined as he did, head dropping to his chest, both holes now clenching around nothing. “No, fuck-” You whimpered, only for him curl a clawed finger under your chin and lift your head to face him. “Sukuna..” You whimpered as you looked into his fire red eyes, darkened by lust. His lips crashed into yours, capturing you in a heated kiss. You sighed against his mouth, hands rising to tangle into his soft pink hair as his tongue tangled with yours.
You screamed into his mouth as you felt him shove both of his cocks into you at once, one for each hole. He growled, biting down on your lip as you clenched around him. “Sukuna!” You gasped as you pulled back from the kiss, your body trying hard to push out the sudden intrusion.
“Relax for me Darling,” He groaned softly, the pet name slipping out without his permission. He pressed his forehead to yours as he rubbed your stomach, trying to ease your pain.
“I-I can’t. Too big..” You panted, trying desperately to release the tension in your shoulders. The stretch was searing you from the inside out. You felt overwhelmed, the pleasure in the pain feeling like static shocks. “It’s soo much..”
“You can handle it,” He assured you, extremely (perhaps overly) confident in your ability considering you had met less than an hour ago. You shook your head, tears slipping from your eyes. He lapped them up from your face, then captured your lips in a much softer kiss this time. Slowly, your body came to accept his, the tension melting away as his tongue tangled with yours and he eased his way further into you. The burn faded, leaving just the pleasure there, pulsating through you as he pushed deeper. 
He groaned into your lips as he bottomed out into you, stilling both to give you time to adjust and so he didn’t immediately cum in you like a fucking virgin. It was almost embarrassing how good you felt around him, taking him better than any other being had before. You clenched and fluttered around him in a sinful way, bringing him closer to his climax than he would like to admit.
“Told you.” He smirked as he pulled away from the kiss, licking at the string of saliva that connected the two of you. You whined as you looked down to where the two of you were connected, watching a bulge in your stomach appear and disappear with every thrust of his hips. It should have hurt, but no- quite the opposite.
 Every thrust of his hips electrified you with pleasure, sending wave after wave of intoxicating bliss through your nervous system. You had never felt so full before, so complete. You could feel his cocks rub against each other, against your walls inside of you, a dizzying sensation that you had never experienced before. Your hips bucked against him greedily as he fucked you, chasing your high.
“Look at me Y/n,” He demanded, pulling your head up so your eyes connected with his again, “I want you know the demon making you feel so good.” 
“Ryomen-” You whined, forgetting in your sea of lust that wasn’t the name he told you to use. His eyes widened a bit from shock. Mostly because he wasn’t filled with rage by your insolence, but instead a surge of lust from hearing his name fall from your lips. It really had been awhile, he was feeling himself getting attached far too easily. If he knew what was good for him, he would have finished and disposed of you as quickly as possible. He wasn’t interested in what was good for him.
“Say it again.” He demanded, a hand slipping in between you to rub circles into your clit. 
“Ryomen..” You whined, staring at him with fucked out, lust clouded eyes as you trembled in his arms, thighs clenching around his abdomen as the ecstasy crashed through your core and through out your body. You felt your muscles ripple and tense in anticipation. 
“Again,” He growled, pulling you closer to him, and dropping his forehead down to yours. “Who does this cunt belong to?”
“Ryomen..” Your brain was too clouded to make out the rest of his command, your body buzzing and bliss building up inside of you. He picked up his pace, chasing his own high and making you scream out his name in a truly embarrassing and needy moan. 
You clung onto his shoulders and neck, digging your nails into the soft skin there as the euphoria in your veins finally boiled over and hit the fire inside of your stomach, igniting it in an explosion of ecstasy and lust. Your vision exploded with stars and your brain officially clocked out of work as you melted into a puddle. Your legs shaking around him as you leaned against his strong body, unable to keep yourself up any longer.
Your velvety walls quivered around him and sucked him in impossibly deeper, needy and lustful for him. It drove him mad. He watched as your face scrunched in pleasure, your body reacting to him greedily as you melted into the pleasure he he was gracing you with. 
It send him over the edge watching you cum for him, feeling you cum over him, feeling you gush around him. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer, holding you in a grip tight enough to bruise. His fangs buried themselves into your neck, marking you as his and his alone as he came deep inside of you, the warm strings gushing in you and filling you to the point of spilling over.
He held you close to him, head hung back as you both tried to catch your breath. Your mind was starting to clear the fog out, looking up to ask him to put you down before you felt him move inside you again. Your breath hitched as you realized he didn’t even get a little soft. You looked at him with almost horrified eyes as he bucked into you, only acting to encourage him. He looked back at you with lustful and wicked eyes, nipping at your lip as he set his pace and grinned.
“Whats wrong Darling?” He asked, the pet name now fully intentional in its use, “You didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?” 
🎃🎃🎃
You were warm when you woke up, despite still being in the nude. Probably because of the huge body pressed against yours, radiating heat and holding you close as he slept. Visions of last night ran though your head, making you almost painfully aware of the cum still dripping from between your thighs, and sending another wave of arousal through you. When did you pass out? When did Ryomen?
You stayed still for a few seconds, listing to your bedfellows steady breathing. The bed, despite being made from feathers and thin quilting, was surprisingly soft, and the late afternoon sun filled the old home with a warm hazy light. You realized you couldn’t stay here any longer. You couldn’t get attached to an urban legend. 
You slipped out of his arms, freezing as he groaned and only breathing again once he was softly snoring. You sighed as you slipped out of the bedroom and found your clothes again. You quickly got dressed, and went to open the front door. It didn’t budge. Your eyes furrowed in confusion as you pulled the knob again. What the hell? You pulled with all your might, almost screaming with frustration as the door didn’t even move a centimeter. 
“Don’t bother with that Dove.” You gasped as you heard Ryomens voice behind you, a wave of dread blanketing you as you spun to face him. He was leaning casually against the door frame of the bedroom, a content smile painted on his face. “It has my seal on it. I’m the only one that can open that door.”
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kkvqwrites · 1 year
Text
Bedside Manner
Reader goes into labor while Simon's away and calls the first person she can think of. The task force (and some other friends in high places) rally around the couple on the most important day of their lives.
Word Count: 2,587
Characters (in order of appearance): fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Capt. John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kate Laswell
CW: childbirth, hospital setting, medical procedures
A/N: Am I a Ghost girlie? Absolutely. Am I also a sucker for the found family trope? Til I die. This idea wouldn't leave me alone and I'm so glad I stuck with it. I love the way this came out and hope you like it!
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"Dear? Everything okay?"
The captain's voice on the other end of the line sounded worried. Both he and Simon had drilled it into you to never hesitate to call Price if you needed anything while your husband was away, but you couldn't help feeling a bit guilty.
"Um, I think so," you began, willing your voice to stay level and upbeat. "I think I just - oof.." Another contraction hit, stealing the air from your lungs. They were coming more consistently now, and hard enough to stop you in your tracks.
This could not be happening.
"What's wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" You could hear movement in the background, him gathering his things to be out the door and on his way to you.
"I'm fine, John. I just didn't know who else to call. I think the baby might be coming?" The words came out pinched as you worked through the tail end of the contraction. The captain swore loudly.
"Stay put, love. I'm on the way - everything will be alright. Want me to stay on the phone with you?"
"No, no, that's fine. Stay safe and I'll see you when you get here." You hung up before he could argue and fuss like a mother hen.
______________________________________________________________
The knock at the door startled you. You looked at the clock - surely that couldn't be John already. The man lived across town. Not trusting yourself to make it to the door, you called out.
"It's open!"
Turns out it wasn't Price, but Gaz, who stepped into your living room and began taking in the scene. It was a sight to be sure: you, doubled over sitting on your yoga ball, rocking back and forth to try to alleviate some of the pressure in your hips, towel around your neck because you were sweating like a pig, ambient white noise filtering through the bluetooth speaker to keep you calm. For all his usual swagger and poise, Gaz looked a bit frightened.
"Kyle, did John call you? I'm so sorry - I'm sure you were busy-"
"Not at all, I rushed over as soon as I got word." The sergeant came to your side and knelt until he was eye level. "The captain's on his way but I was closer. We didn't want you to be alone any longer than necessary."
"You and your task force are worse than a quilting circle." The jab came with a joking smile, but the smile was cut short by the stab of another contraction. At the sight of your face screwing up in pain, Kyle's eyes got big.
"Can I do something? Do you need anything?" He wrung his hands as he fussed, seemingly unsure whether to touch you or whether you'd bite him if he tried. Admittedly, you weren't too sure yourself.
"Need you to reset - the timer." The words came out through clenched teeth as your muscles tensed and screamed. "Contractions - need to time them."
"The timer - right." He sprung into action, undoubtedly happy to have a defined task to accomplish. As he was fiddling with the device, Price stormed through the door, his demeanor all-business.
"Gaz? What's the situation?" The sergeant hopped to attention as if he was at roll call.
"Got here not long ago myself, Cap. Just reset the timer for contractions."
"Where are we at?"
"Thirteen minutes, sir."
The captain turned to you, assessing you from top to bottom. His expression and his voice softened considerably as he spoke.
"Ready to get to the hospital, love?"
"Can't - they told me to wait until they're five minutes apart." The man looked bewildered.
"And just let you sit here and suffer? Not on my watch. Gaz, grab my keys - "
"John," you interrupted. "I already called. They won't admit me yet. We just need to wait it out."
"Nonsense, love. You wait til I get someone's ear over there. Five minutes my arse." He moved to help you stand, but stopped in his tracks as he took in your face, your lip trembling. "Is there something else?" As if on cue, a fat tear rolled down your cheek, the first of its kind since the pains began.
"This isn't supposed to be happening," you squeaked out. "Not for a few more weeks. Simon's supposed to be here."
The men shared a glance, looking stricken. Price leaned down next to you, a broad hand gently squeezing your shoulder. His voice was soft when he spoke, a renewed slowness replacing his prior rushed pace.
"I know, love. I know it's not ideal, and I know you're scared. I know Simon would give anything to be here, that he'd split heaven and earth to be with you right now. But I also know he'd want you and your little one taken care of, yeah? He wouldn't want you to wait."
You nodded, despite more tears threatening. "Doesn't change the fact they won't admit me yet."
The captain's mouth quirked defiantly. "You let me worry about that. Gaz, help her up. I'll drive."
______________________________________________________________
Simon was tired down to his bones, feeling like a wrung out rag after the most recent mission. Despite that, the man was a ball of energy as he hopped off the plane, desperate to get back to you.
"Someone's antsy," Soap drawled, taking a more leisurely pace. He slid his sunglasses on as Simon switched on his cell phone anxiously. "Got somewhere to be, LT?"
"'Matter of fact I do - home." Simon impatiently hiked his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "See my wife, eat a real meal. Finally build that godforsaken changing table. Who knew a baby needs so much furniture?"
Soap barked a laugh, but Simon tuned him out as he put his phone to his ear. He'd gotten a voicemail from you, and everything else ceased to matter.
"Hey babe, it's me. I'm not sure when you'll get this, and I hate to worry you. I'm sure it's fine. It's just... I've been feeling some contractions-"
Simon didn't hear the rest, nearly dropping his phone as he broke into a run.
______________________________________________________________
True to his word, Price argued with the hospital staff until you were taken up to a room. You were sure he must have pulled rank, threatened to call people, but he refused to let you worry about it.
The ride had been smooth, despite John driving like a bat out of hell. Gaz stayed in the back seat with you, clinging to your hand and fussing. Later, you'd think it was funny how he seemed to need more encouragement and support than he offered, but at that moment very little was funny.
You had been able to stay in denial for an admirably long time. The past few days, you were able to tell yourself it was just Braxton-Hicks contractions, not the real thing. That even when it became evident the real thing was starting, that it wouldn't progress quickly. That even though it was progressing, that Simon would walk in the door just at the right moment and sweep you into the car and off to the hospital and all would be well. Even when your gut told you to pick up the phone and call the captain, you had managed to make yourself believe that you were wrong, that it was a false alarm, that you still had more time.
Now, here you were, connected to monitors and being poked and prodded by nurses. Medical history, allergies, birth plan, you felt like you were in interrogation rather than a patient receiving care. And if it wasn't the nurses it was the two men standing off to the side, one wringing his hands in worry and one watching the nurses like a hawk and barking questions. The contractions were closer to eight minutes apart now, progressing quickly. Now the situation was very real, and as thankful as you were from the support from Price and Gaz, your heart threatened to shatter at the absence of the one person who mattered most.
______________________________________________________________
"Bloody fuckin' hell, no one will answer their phone!" Ghost barked, ready to throw his out the window. He'd had radio silence other than a second voicemail, this one from the Captain:
"Simon, Price here. Just got word from the missus that the baby's on the way. I'm headed there now. I don't want you to worry about a thing, I won't leave her side. I'll update you as I'm able."
"She knew to call the captain; he's probably with her now," Soap offered from the driver's seat. He'd practically had to arm wrestle Simon for the keys, but ended up convincing him that he'd be able to call for updates if he wasn't worried about driving. Silently, he thanked the saints Simon had agreed; who knows what carnage he'd unleash on the roads as worked up as he was.
"He better be, or I'll - not now, Laswell!" Simon rejected the third call from the station chief since landing and tried Price again. He was sure he'd hear about it for skipping debrief and jumping in the car, but right now he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. When Price's phone again went to voicemail, he was about to go nuclear when the car's Bluetooth lit up with Laswell's number.
"Shite; let me answer it LT." Soap pushed the button. "Laswell, it's Soap. Here with Ghost."
"I know," she said impatiently, her voice filling the space. "I've been trying to call all afternoon. I know what's happening and I'm here to help."
"What? How do you know?"
"Price called me as soon as he got word, asked me to find you. Anyway, you're wasting time heading in that direction; there's a lane closure ahead and you're about to be neck deep in traffic. I've mapped an alternate route for you. Take the next left."
The two men looked at each other in confusion before both starting to speak at the same time.
"Left? That takes us the wrong way-" "How do you know where we're at?"
"Boys! Boys, listen," she continued, exasperated. "Don't worry about how I know, just do as I say. We're gonna get you there as fast as possible. Now turn left!"
Soap cut the car to the left, ignoring the indignant honks of other drivers as he began to cut through the city under Laswell's watchful eye.
______________________________________________________________
"The doctor says you'll be ready to start pushing soon. How are you feeling?" The nurse was genuinely trying to be nice, so you bit back on your retort of how the fuck does it look like I'm feeling? My insides are exploding! and instead chose a weak smile and a head nod.
Once the nurse whisked away, Price was back at your side. You could tell by his expression he wanted to give you a pep talk like you were one of his soldiers about to head into battle, but he was searching for the right thing to say. You broke the silence first.
"I'm scared." Your voice sounded small, the words escaping almost of their own volition. The captain took your hand, blessedly avoiding sugarcoating the situation.
"I know. But you're doing great - a real trooper. Even with the needle in the back! Simon's gonna be so proud of you, love. And Gaz and I are gonna be right here. Right Gaz?"
"Right, Cap." The sergeant slid back into the room, cup of ice in hand. While the captain had taken point and begun advocating for you with the hospital staff and asking a million questions, Gaz had been dutifully making sure you were comfortable. Anything from getting you an extra pillow for your back, to helping you tie your hair back, to getting you ice chips since you couldn't have food or drink during labor, he was on it. If either man was uneasy about what was about to happen, they dutifully kept it under wraps and maintained their game faces.
One by one, the care team took up positions around you to get started. Price and Gaz got next to you, each taking one of your hands, ready to offer what support they could. You shamed yourself, one last time, for being ungrateful for their presence. A lot of people give birth with less, you tried to tell yourself. He’d be here if he could. 
 The doctor walked in, donning gloves and getting a quick status update from one of the nurses before meeting your eyes. “Evening, ma’am. We’re going to-” 
Her words were cut off by a commotion in the hall, a door slamming and what sounded like some raised voices. Everyone in the room exchanged confused glances, and Price motioned for Gaz to go investigate. He poked his head out into the hall for only a moment before returning with a big grin.
“You’re not gonna believe who’s here."
Then your husband was in the doorway, and then he was at your side, and suddenly those honey brown eyes drowned out every ounce of pain and fear you’d been holding onto, and that warm, calloused hand took yours, and you were ready.
______________________________________________________________
You would have thought it would be difficult to fall asleep under fluorescent lights, with monitors beeping and staff bustling around. But you had never known tiredness like this, and wanted to take the nurse’s advice and rest while the pain meds were still working their magic. The delivery had been uneventful once the show was on the road, and Simon never left your side, his steady presence grounding and his voice in your ear keeping you calm. Then there she was, a baby girl, the most precious tiny thing you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d stared at her and cried for hours, stroking her tiny hand and welcoming her to the world until you could barely keep your eyes open. And so, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss on your forehead from Simon, you found yourself drifting off. You were aware, as you floated off, of his slow pacing back and forth with your newborn daughter in his arms, of his whispers to her that were too low for you to hear. Of the guys popping in, as unobtrusively as possible lest the lieutenant tear them limb from limb for disturbing you and the baby, bringing him food and coffee and admiring the bundle of joy.
“Doesn’t look a thing like you, Simon,” said Soap.
“Thank God for that,” he replied.
“You should have seen it, Simon really - needle this long, right in the spine!” Price remarked, not for the first time. “She didn’t even flinch.”
“I’m just glad you made it for the gross stuff,” mumbled Gaz.
“Kyle, you’re in the military. You’ve seen arms and legs blown off.”
“Completely different, Johnny. Not the same at all.”
On and on they bantered, brothers in arms stepping into their role as uncles for your baby girl with delight. One of the last things you heard was Simon, his voice thick with emotion.
“Thank you, all of you, for being here. For today.”
“Oh come off it Simon,” replied the Captain. “These girls mean something to you, so they mean something to us. That’s what a family is. Now quit hogging her and let Uncle John have a turn.”
You wouldn’t remember this conversation when you woke up, wouldn’t be able to articulate where it came from, but you’d carry with you the bone-deep feeling of connection with this little makeshift family forever.
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rrickgrrimes8 · 1 year
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Your Bear
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summary: Joel Miller doesn’t just lose Sarah that night but his other daughter too. but maybe you can still be found. (part II)
Joel Miller x daughter!reader -- she/her pronouns used & AFAB
warnings: guns, violence, angst, mentions of death, birth, hurt/comfort, happy ending ;) (kinda), no spoilers for part 2/canon divergent
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requests are open!
word count: 3.2k
Joel Miller was always a good father - no matter what he thought. He cared for his girls more than he cared about anything in his damn life. So when they were both taken from him... there was nothing left to care about.
It was Sarah first.
He held Sarah as she died. His shirt was still stained with her blood. The watch on his wrist shattered by his failure.
But his other daughter, you, looking back he can only imagine the worst.
It all happened so fast. He had Sarah in his arms she gasped for air that was growing distant by the second, while Tommy watched with a pained look.
You, however, no one was watching you. Only 5 years old - you didn’t understand a thing. And so when you heard a loud noise. When you saw your sister go down and hearing the cries of both your father and her you panicked.
You thought you were getting help. That’s what’s your dad always told you to do if something bad happened. “Find the nearest phone or adult. Call me or Tommy or this number, okay? 911. Remember that number babygirl.”
And you did.
You ran as quick as you could, which wasn’t all that impressive but it was fast enough for them not to notice you had gone.
By the time you had found your way back into town, Tommy had noticed. “J-Joel,” His voice wavered, fear taking hold. Tommy searched the clearing, calling your name.
Joel looked away from his limp daughter then. His heart was thumping in his chest. His ribs ached as did the wound on his side but nothing compared to the terror that tore through his whole body.
“W-where is she?” His eyes darted over the area but you were no where to be found.
“No, Tommy,” He sobbed already fearing the worst, “T-tommy not her, please.”
Tommy shuddered. This couldn’t be real. This wasn’t real. You were just here. Sarah was just here.
“Joel,” He began until he heard shrill, painfully familiar scream from off in the distance.
“No,” Joel cried looking down at Sarah, hesitating just for a moment before setting her down, “I’m sorry baby.”
Tommy was already running at that point, hoping not to be late, not like he was for Sarah. Joel screamed your name as he sprinted - he couldn’t lose anyone else. He couldn’t lose you, his babygirl.
When he got there he saw Tommy knelt beside a bloodied teddy bear.
Your bear.
He collapsed. Knees giving way. He pulled the bear of the ground, its white fur tormented by the red hue.
Tommy shouted your name a few times. Joel didn’t have the energy to bother. His answer was here.
You were only five. You’d never have survived on your own.
And he would never survive without you, without his girls. He hugged the bear as if it was your body and he never let go.
x
“Why’d you have a bear in your bag?” Ellie teased as she caught sight of an fluffy ear sticking out.
Joel clenched his jaw, stuffing the teddy back inside. “What?” She laughed innocently, “Is it for your bad dreams? Chase the monsters away?”
The man grunted, discarding the bag on one of the chairs - away from Ellie’s view, “None of your business.”
Ellie frowned as she caught his eye. The brown was darker than usual, which was really saying something. They were empty, hollow but at the same time watery. Like he was one step away from crying. She shook the thought off - this was Joel she was talking about. Joel never cried, not in front of her - not really... She didn’t even think he could cry. But his eyes told her something else. They told an unspoken story. One she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. But one, at the same time, she needed to hear.
“Sorry,” She mumbled, moving into the living room of the house Tommy and Maria had given them.
Joel sighed as she did, guilt running through his veins. “Sorry,” He called out, gruffly, stopping her in her escape. Ellie turned back waiting for him to continue. “it was...” He cleared his throat roughly, “The bear was my daughters.”
“Oh,” She whispered, looking up at the man with sympathy, “If i had known it was Sarah’s... i wouldn’t have said anything.”
Joel sucked in a breath, turning towards the cupboards behind him, grabbing a cup. “Wasn’t hers,” He corrected trying not to let his voice catch on the lump forming in his throat.
“What?” Ellie dared a step closer, “But Sarah was... is your daughter.” Joel bit his tongue, forcing himself to face her again. “Joel?”
He let out a watery sigh, eyes set on the ground, “I had... i had another daughter.” He spoke your name softly but with fear. He hadn’t said it in years - he couldn’t. He hadn’t spoken about you in nearly 20 years either. He hated to talk about you. It was hard enough letting Ellie in, letting her know about his past, about Sarah. But it was too hard to say your name. You were only a baby. His baby.
“I didn’t know. You never mentioned her,” Ellie almost felt guilty asking - like this was something she should’ve known. That she should’ve known wasn’t something you just bring up.
“Yeah,” He scrunched his face a little, the feeling of your loss rushing back.
He thought and he believed for a time that if he didn’t talk about you, about the way he failed you then all that hurt would go away. He was wrong. He saw you every night in his dreams. He saw the woman you grew up to become. He saw your smile and heard your laugh. But then he’d wake up alone. He was always alone.
The worst was when the dream felt real. You were a baby again, Sarah was young too. It was just the three of you. You’d be doing something mundane - watching TV, eating dinner, whatever. He’d have conversations with the pair of you, forgetting that none of it was real. He’d hold you to his chest, sing to you, make you laugh. He’d dance with Sarah to their beat up radio in the kitchen. He would watch you take your first steps, say your first words, form your first smile.
But he’d always wake up. He hated waking up.
“How old was she?” She dared to ask.
Shakily he replied, “Five.”
She fell silent after that. Five. Five years old. Joel lost a five year old - no wonder he didn’t want to talk about it, idiot.
Ellie thought for a moment, a question daring to fall from her lips. “But she’s wasn’t on the memorial at Tommy’s.”
Joel’s head snapped up, anger residing in his chest. Who he was mad at he didn’t know. Himself? Tommy? Ellie? You? “Tommy... he,” He huffed, “He doesn’t believe she’s gone. Holds out hope on that fucking plaque - fuckin’ delusional.”
Ellie leant against the countertop, eyes not leaving the man for just a second, “Why would he think that?”
“No body,” His voice was cold all of a sudden as if it meant nothing at all. As if he wasn’t talking about the body of his five year-old.
“But then she could be-“
“Don’t,” He snapped, “Don’t say another word.”
Ellie rolled her eyes but complied. Joel turned back to his cup, filling it with coffee he had just traded for. He didn’t speak until he was finished and even then he wished he hadn’t.
“We heard her scream... And we found-“ He grimaced, gesturing to his bag, “And we found that damn bear.”
“But,” She tried again.
“Ellie-“
“No, seriously, if all you found was a bear she could still be-“
Without another word, Joel stormed past her, ripping the bag open, slamming the bear onto her chest.
Ellie saw it now.
She understood the haunting look in his eyes. She understood the story it told. It was matted, showed its age. What once was white was red now.
All of it.
Not just a patch here and there.
Everywhere.
It reminded her of Joel.
“That look like she could be alive to you?” He shouted.
“Fuck,” She felt sick just looking at it let alone touching it.
“You kept it?” A voice called from behind her.
Joel met his brothers eyes. “‘Course i did,” He spoke defensively.
“Joel,” He simpered. They stared at each other for a while. Almost like they were having a silent conversation.
Until Joel spoke, “It’s all i have of her left.”
And there was nothing else to say.
x
Years had gone by since they had gotten to Jackson. And things were surprisingly good. Eerily good. It was the type of good that Joel knew deep down wouldn’t last. It was the type of good that only existed before this mess.
Every morning he would wake up here he had a weight on his chest. A feeling that something was going to happen. This was the calm before the storm, he’d remind himself.
He didn’t tell anyone about it. He couldn’t. He’d just sound paranoid.
Him and Ellie were on a run. It was simple - it always was. The people in charge at the commune never liked to overstep - go to far. Never liked to do what Joel craved.
All they had to do was scope out a few cabins that were spotted deep in the woods. Ellie had jumped at the proposition as soon as Tommy had suggested it. She hated being cooped up for so long - Jackson could only give you so much freedom.
And just because Ellie agreed he knew he had to as well. There was no way in hell he’d let her go out risking her life when there was no way he’d be able to save it.
Getting there was the easy part. The horses at Jackson were a godsend. When they got there the place was still. Ellie gave Shimmer a soft pat before joining Joel who was stalking up to the door. He knocked first - not out of curtesy, just to attract any infected that it may hold. Because that’s what they expected. But Joel should’ve known better.
Joel should’ve thought about their biggest threat - people.
They had only cleared two rooms when Joel felt the cold sting of mental on his temple.
Ellie gasped but kept her gun up, eyes trained on the figure that held Joel’s life in their hands. “Put it down,” The voice ordered.
“Like hell I will,” Ellie retorted, finger edging closer to the trigger.
“I said put it down or the old man gets it,” She forced the barrel against his head - so hard he was sure it would bruise.
“Jesus, fuck, okay,” Ellie mumbled, slowly setting her gun on the floor infront of her, “Just let him go?”
The woman laughed, “So you can kill me, yeah, no thanks.”
“We can work this out,” Joel tried, hands raising to show he was unarmed but it only aggravated her more. Her arm wrapped around his neck, making him stumble back into a chokehold.
“Hey!” She yelled at Ellie as she reached for a gun. The teen stopped, taking a few steps back.
“Just put it down. We can work this out,” Joel proposed, gasping as she applied pressure to his neck, “We don’t want to hurt you.”
“Bullshit,” She spat, breathing heavily, “What the fuck else are you here for then, huh?”
“Supplies,” Ellie told her, “We’re from a commune-“
“Ellie-“
“We can take you back there - help you. If you just put the gun down.”
“Bullshit,” The woman removed the gun from Joel’s head aiming it now at Ellie, “You’ll kill me the first chance you get.”
Ellie shook her head, going to respond before Joel gripped the woman’s arm flipping her over. She gasped as she forcefully hit the ground, splinters from the wooden floor embedded into her spine.
Her breathing picked up, hand scrambling to get to the gun he had knocked out of her hand but a foot stopped her.
Joel’s boot pressed harshly against her wrist, “Don’t.”
“Christ Joel,” Ellie huffed, “You scared the fuck out of me.” Joel watched her as she reached down to get her discarded gun. Ellie laughed as she caught her breath, “Where the hell did that come from? You’re like 80.”
“Ellie,” He scolded with a strict look.
“Right, sorry,” She chuckled.
“So this is when you kill me then,” The woman heaved, chest rising and falling rapidly.
Joel turned to her then, catching her eyes for the first time. He faltered, boot leaving her wrist as he took a step back.
She was a spitting image of... you.
No.
“Shouldn’t’ve tried to kill us, i guess,” Ellie retorted humourlessly.
“You came into my house,” She shot back.
“This is your house,” Ellie muttered, “Needs some work. Right, contractor?” She shot a look over her shoulder at Joel. The man was pale, breathless. His eyes were trained on his attacker with a foreign look she couldn’t decipher.
“Joel?”
“Name,” He ordered, gun pointed down at her but both of them could see it shake.
“What?” She coughed, struggling to understand the strangers.
“Your name, what is it?” He yelled.
“Jesus,” She almost let herself laugh - she would’ve if she wasn’t so shit scared.
Joel gave her a stern look so she said it. She spoke your name.
Ellie’s lips parted, confusion leaving her face, “Holy shit.”
Joel’s expression crumbled as did the grip on his gun, which now hung loosely at his side. “Last name?” He asked, voice a mere whisper.
“What the fuck is going on?”
“Answer.”
“It’s Miller, Christ,” She answered, “What the hell is the matter with you people?”
Joel’s knees felt weak, his breath caught in his throat. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. You died. You were gone.
“Joel is she-“
“Stand up,” He told you.
Hesitantly you did as he said, struggling slightly as your injuries caught up to you. Seeing this Joel stepped forward, hand outstretched. With an odd look in your eye you took it - ignoring how the mans eyes lingered on it for a second too long.
“Are you alone?” Fearfully you shook your head. “Where?” He ordered.
You shook your head again, “Please don’t- You can’t. I was just trying to protect her.”
“Who?” Ellie spoke up, despite it not feeling like her place to be in this conversation.
“M-my,” You started but a cry interrupted, echoing through the cabin.
You didn’t think for a second before you ran out of the room. Joel cursed as you did, going to rush out after you before Ellie spoke up, “What are we doing here, Joel?”
“I-“ He paused, shaking his head and leaving the room.
“Is it her?” She questioned, following closely behind him, “Is it really her?”
He gave her stern look as he entered the room you escaped into. His eyes blurred as he saw you with a baby to your chest.
“Please don’t,” You held up your free hand, stopping them, “You can’t- not her.”
“Holy fuck,” Ellie gaped, “You have a fucking kid!”
“Ellie!” The baby fussed in your arms, cries escaping despite your comfort.
“Please leave,” You beg, “Just let us go. I know i messed up. I didn’t want to hurt you guys but i- i couldn’t let you find her.”
“It’s okay,” Joel spoke softly, a type of softness you wouldn’t expect a man like him to be capable of. He holstered his gun, carefully and moved his hands where you could see them.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” He told you, “Ellie, put your gun away.” Ellie did as he said.
“So leave,” You pulled your child closer to your chest.
“We can’t do that,” Joel said.
“Why?”
“Because he’s-“
“Ellie, don’t,” He cut her off, turning back to you, “We weren’t lying before. We have a commune - it’s safe. You’ll be safe there. You both will be.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, repeating the same question, “Why?”
“B-because you’ve got a kid,” He lied, “We can’t leave you here to die.”
“I don’t trust you,” You frowned. Joel mirrored your action, looking around the room at the makeshift cot you had constructed. He felt his heart ache when he spotted a blood stain on the carpet in the corner - you had given birth here, alone. You went through that alone.
“Please,” Ellie spoke up, “You won’t survive out here. You need somewhere safe. And maybe you don’t trust us, that’s okay but we’re honest. We want to help you.”
Hesitantly, you nodded after a few minutes, anxiety building in your chest.
Joel’s eyes were still stuck to the bloodied patch and he was reminded again of how he failed you. How he failed Sarah. He thought about that damn bear. The bear that he thought was the last part of you he had. And despite the pain in his chest and the ringing in his ears he was so glad he was wrong.
“What’s her name?” Ellie asked as she took a tentative step forward.
You didn’t flinch, you wanted to but a part of you, a naive, childish part, wanted to believe them. “Sarah,” You returned, pinching your girls cheeks causing her to smile.
Joel’s eyes filled with tears, tears he had been trying to suppress for the past 20 minutes. For the past 20 years.
Sarah. His Sarah. Your Sarah.
Ellie’s eyes snapped to Joel. He almost felt embarrassed, showing this side of him. Showing his weakness.
“She’s beautiful,” He whispered.
You smiled as he spoke, kissing the side of Sarah’s head. “She is,” You kissed her again before whispering - more to her than them, “My babygirl.”
5K notes · View notes
heartateasee · 22 days
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“Safe”
mafia!harry x you
(“Safe” Masterlist)
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: mentions of a break-in and violence (talks of being bound, and a slap) & talks of death (inflicting death on others)
Plot: While Harry was out of town on business, your home was broken in to, leaving you with some injuries. When Harry comes home to see the state you’re in, he’s beside himself, and he steals you away to his lake house so you can be alone together.
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“Where is she?” You heard Harry’s voice from downstairs, and you immediately sat up a little more on the side of your bed. You clutched the mug of warm tea in your still trembling hands - a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.
“She’s upstairs in your bedroom, but Harry-”
You could hear that Harry’s right-hand man, Elias, was attempting to keep him from coming up the stairs right away, and that he wanted to explain things further, but Harry cut him off.
“Get out of my way, Elias. I need to see her.”
“I understand that, but I need you to listen to me for just a second before you do.”
You flinched as you felt a hand stroking your hair off your face, and you looked over to see the doctor, who Harry always had tending to you if you were sick, standing there. She must’ve come back from the bathroom already like she said, but you hadn’t heard her. You were too focused on your boyfriend’s voice.
“The swelling should go down in a couple of days,” you heard the doctor say, who’s name was completely escaping you right now. She tilted your head to the side a bit, and you watched as her eyebrows narrowed. “There’s already some bruising, but I don’t think it’ll get much worse, if at all.”
Closing your eyes tight, flashbacks of what happened just about an hour ago bled their way back to the forefront of your mind. The back of the hand that forced its way across your cheek. The forcefulness at which your hands were tied behind your back with zip ties. 
Your throat was raw from your screaming, although your mouth was soon duck taped after they realized you weren’t going to stop - no matter what threats they had thrown your way.
The memory of Elias forcing his way into the room was burned into your brain, and once he had taken care of the men who had harmed you, and threatened you, you watched his face soften once he looked at you.
“Y/N,” he whispered, not wasting any more time as he rushed over to you. Turning you on your side from where you were laid on the floor, he got his knife out to rid you of the zip ties, and then he carefully pulled the duck tape from your mouth. “Where else did they hurt you?”
His eyes were focused on your cheek that you knew was already showing signs of violence, but you shook your head.
“Nowhere,” your voice rasped as you answered him. “It’s just my cheek.”
You were drawn out of the horrific flashbacks as you heard Harry’s voice booming downstairs - growing louder. “Where the fuck were my men?!”
“They killed them!” You heard Elias yell back, clearly sick of Harry’s attitude at the moment. “Listen to me…they got in. They killed all seven of the men you had standing guard, and we got lucky because I was coming to check on her like you asked me to. If I hadn’t…”
It was silent after that, and it wasn’t too long that you heard a deep sob. You closed your eyes again as your bottom lip started to wobble. There had only been a handful of times that you had seen Harry cry, and you hated when he did. You wanted nothing more than for Elias to let him upstairs to see you so you could hold him.
“Please just-” Harry choked out, pausing for a moment, and you could tell he was trying to get himself together. “Please just tell me that she’s okay.”
“She’s okay,” Elias’ voice was now soft as he responded. “She is hurt, but it could’ve been a lot worse. Her face, and her wrists. They’re bruised.”
More silence followed until you heard a large crashing, and you knew it was coming from the living room area. You jumped - almost spilling your tea at the sudden sound. Another loud crash caused you to flinch, remembering those same sounds happening just moments ago, but not at the hands of Harry.
“Fuck!” His voice echoed off the walls, and you set your tea down on your nightstand.
You needed to go to him. You needed to show him you were okay.
“Slowly,” the doctor whispered next to you as she started to help you off the bed once she could tell you were trying to stand.
The blanket dropped from your shoulders - leaving you in one of Harry’s large t-shirts, and some wool socks on your feet. When the doctor showed and asked if you wanted to change out of the dress you had been wearing when you got home, the one you had worn to work, you immediately grabbed Harry's things. You wanted to feel close to him.
Helping you carefully down the steps, the doctor remained by your side until you reached the foyer, and from there your movement had caught Elias’ attention. He held his hand out for you, which you took without question, and the doctor took that as her sign to go ahead and leave for the night. She had already told you earlier that she was only a phone call away if you needed anything else.
Elias led you into the living room, Harry’s back to you as he stood in front of the bar cart. You could see he was downing a glass of whisky, and he wasted no time in filling it right back up.
“Harry,” Elias said as the two of you stood in the middle of the room, and you watched as Harry shook his head.
“I don’t want to hear anyone else’s goddamn voice tonight unless it’s my-”
Harry stopped talking once he turned around and saw you standing there, and he froze. His eyes trailed down your body - looking for injuries, and they darkened once they got to your face.
“I’ll leave you two for the evening,” Elias said as he released your hand, but not before giving it a small squeeze. “I’m just a phone call away, if needed. That goes for the both of you.”
Tearing your eyes away from Harry, you looked to Elias and gave him a nod. “Thank you. For everything.”
Elias returned your nod, pulling you in quickly for a hug - pressing a kiss against the crown of your head. Once he released you, he exited the house.
Now it was just you and Harry inside, and you weren’t sure how many new guards he had standing outside.
You continued to stare at each other for a moment before Harry turned around to face the bar cart again, and you swallowed harshly. 
You walked forward and gently placed your hand on his back - slowly lowering your head to rest your forehead between his shoulder blades.
“Harry,” you whispered, and you felt his body tense at the condition of your voice. “I’m okay. It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” Harry shook his head, placing his glass down as he clutched the sides of the cart. “If I had been here, or if I had just taken you with me, none of this would’ve happened. And you begged me to take you, but I didn’t listen.”
“I didn’t beg you to take me because I thought this was going to happen. I begged because I missed you, so please don’t put that on yourself,” you told him, but he was quickly moving away from you.
You dropped your hands by your side as you watched him, tears forming in your eyes. 
Maybe this was it. Maybe this is the time he realized that your relationship isn’t worth all of this. That you’re not worth all of this.
“Alright,” you said, mostly talking out loud to yourself as you nodded. “I’m going to go pack a bag.”
You didn’t even make it to the staircase before you felt Harry’s hands cupping the outsides of your arms, and he carefully turned you around. “Y/N,” you looked up to see tears of his own in his eyes. “I don’t want you to leave.”
Slowly, he lifted his hand to brush the back of his fingers against your tender cheek - not enough pressure applied to have it hurt you. He then grazed his thumb over the split in the corner of your mouth before looking down to your wrists.
He lifted them in his large hands, and brought each one to his mouth - pressing kisses against your bruises.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he shut his eyes tight, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.”
Shaking your head, you went to pull your wrists away to cup Harry’s face in your hands, but you didn’t have the chance to as he fell to his knees. He wrapped his arms around your waist as he buried his face into your stomach. “I promise you that this will never happen again.”
Streams of tears now flooded down your cheeks as you ran your fingers through Harry’s hair, feeling him sob against your torso. You then wrapped your forearms around his neck, and cradled his head in your hands as you leaned down to rest your cheek against the top of it.
“I know, Harry,” you spoke softly to try and keep him as calm as possible, sniffing as you tried to force your tears back. “But it’s okay. I’m safe, and now you’re here. You’re home with me, and that’s all that matters.”
You hadn’t noticed the state of the house until you quickly flicked your eyes around the living room, and you knew these damages weren’t just from Harry when he got home. They had destroyed your home in the process of trying to destroy you. Trying to destroy him.
Harry looked up at you, and you sent him a gentle smile as you pushed stray curls off of his forehead. “How about we go to the lake house?” He asked, licking over his bottom lip. “I don’t want to stay here tonight, and I’m sure you don’t either. I’ll have someone come in and clean this all up so that when we come back, it’ll be like nothing ever happened. How does that sound, my love?”
You nodded at him, and you held his forearms as he picked himself up off the ground. “I would like that very much.”
Harry took your hand in his as he guided the both of you back up the stairs, and he was quick to pull a large suitcase out of the closet for the two of you to share. “Pack however much you want. We’ll stay however long you want to.”
Moving around the room, you packed several pairs of pajamas, a couple of bikinis and some light sundresses. You packed two pairs of sandals and your slippers, and then you smiled over at him as he packed his own things.
Neither of you bothered with toiletries, knowing you had everything you needed in that aspect already at the lake house. 
It was late, and it was going to be at least a two hour drive to get there, but Harry didn’t care. He wanted to get you away from all this for however long you needed. 
He’d have men cover for him while away, Elias being the main one. He trusted him, even now more than ever after what he did for you. Harry knew that he could handle taking over for a few days, or even weeks.
Pulling his phone out, Harry made a phone call to have a couple of security guys follow you on the way to the lake house, and they’d remain there during your time together to keep watch over everything. 
“Ready, honey?” You asked him once he was off the phone, trailing your fingertips over the back of one of his hands before taking it between both of your own.
“Ready.”
❈❈❈❈
You and Harry had been at the lake house for four days now, and you were feeling much better about everything. Your wrists were fully healed, and the bruising on your cheek was starting to fade completely.
Harry was still acting a bit distant, but not physically, at least. He held you close at night, and was right by your side around the house, but emotionally, he had changed. You knew he was still blaming himself for what happened back at home - no matter how many times you told him that he shouldn’t.
So today, as you stood in the kitchen, cleaning up your dishes from lunch, your eyes were set on Harry through the window above the sink as he stood on the back porch. He was on a phone call, one of the many he’s taken while being here, and you knew he was probably speaking with Elias.
You finished up the dishes, and you pulled the sliding door open to join him - your bare feet meeting the warm wooden porch. You weren’t sure if Harry heard you coming out as he continued his conversation without hesitance.
“Elias, I’m telling you right now,” Harry’s voice was low, and firm as he spoke. “I don’t give a fuck how many men we have to send. We’ve found him, and I want him, and anyone else involved in the terror they put my girl through, dead. Is that clear enough for you?”
You halted your footsteps upon hearing his demand, and you took a minute to truly process what you heard. You knew what Harry did. He tried to keep most of it a secret from you for a while, but one of your biggest fights ever was you threatening to leave if he wasn’t completely honest with you.
That occurred about six months into your relationship, and he came clean about everything - laid it all out on the table. He made it clear when he did that if you wanted to still leave now that you knew who he truly was, he wouldn’t stop you. But you didn’t.
You loved each other, and you were sure he was the love of your life.
But now, even two years after that conversation occurred, it still shocked you sometimes to hear him asking for the death of others.
“Great, thank you,” Harry said into the phone, and even though that tone was sarcastic, it soon shifted as he spoke his next words. “And I know I haven’t told you yet, but I’m really grateful that you were able to be there for her that night. Although I wish it had been me to get to her first, if it had to be anyone else, I’m glad it was you.”
Your heart fluttered as you listened in. Harry wasn’t a man to show emotion often, even with you, but every now and then you managed to get that hard exterior of his to crack. But the fact that he was displaying his emotions to someone else, it made you happy - even if the circumstances were grim.
“Yeah, yeah, let’s not get too sappy, alright?” Harry responded playfully to whatever Elias said, and it caused you to smile. “Stay safe, and we’ll talk soon.”
As Harry ended the call, he let out a hefty sigh before turning around - pausing as he saw you.
“Hi,” he cleared his throat, slipping his phone into his pocket. “How much of that did you hear?”
“A good amount,” you shrugged, not wanting to lie to him. “So you found him?”
Harry nodded as he walked forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes lingered on your cheek, just as they had several moments a day throughout your time here, before he met your eyes.
“We did. And we’ll be taking care of it.”
A chill ran through your spine at his words, and as much as you knew that hearing them should scare you - you weren’t scared at all. Not around Harry. Never around Harry.
“Okay,” you lifted your hands to rest on his chest. You stroked your thumbs against his skin through the material of the t-shirt he had on. He had been dressing casual since you had been here, something you weren’t used to, but you loved it. “Do you want to go for a swim? We haven’t gone yet.”
You could see the contemplation in Harry’s eyes, and just when you thought he was about to deny you, a smile pushed onto his lips. “A swim sounds nice. Did you pack your pink bikini? The one with the white hearts.”
Your stomach swirled, and you giggled. “I did. I’m guessing you’d like for me to wear that one?”
“Only if you want to, Y/N, but I do particularly love that one.”
“Then I’ll wear it,” you pressed onto your tiptoes to let your lips gently brush over his. “Just for you.”
Pulling away, you left him stunned on the porch, and you smirked to yourself as you entered the bedroom of the house. Just that small interaction had you feeling like things were getting back to normal for the two of you.
You grabbed the much wanted bathing suit from the suitcase before slipping into the en-suite to change. After a moment, you heard Harry rummaging around in the bedroom, and you knew he was changing into his swim trunks. Once you had the bottoms on, and the top around your neck, you exited the en-suite and turned around once you were next to him.
“Can you tie this for me, please?” You asked sweetly, moving all of your hair over your shoulder to give him proper access.
Harry’s fingertips skated up your back before you felt him tying a secure knot against your spine. Once he was finished, he leaned down to press a kiss against your bare shoulder. “So pretty, and soft. I can’t believe you’re all mine.”
“Yours,” you whispered as you turned around - wrapping your arms around his neck. “Always all yours, and only yours.”
After separating and gathering the rest of the supplies needed for your time down at the lake, you and Harry started down the pathway that started right off the back porch. Sunglasses were perched on both of your noses, and your fingers were interlocked as your feet crunched against the rocks.
It wasn’t too hot today, but it was hot enough where the water would be a relief, and you wouldn’t get too cold once you got out. 
Once you made it down to the edge of the lake, you and Harry spread your towels out over the rocks, and you pulled a t-shirt of his that you used as a cover-up over your head. You tossed it down onto your towel along with your sunglasses before looking over to Harry.
“I’ll race you,” you winked, and you watched his eyebrows raise from behind his sunglasses.
He was quick to remove his own eyewear, and shirt as well, before the two of you turned to face the lake.
“On three,” you stated with a nod. “One, two-”
Before you even said three, you jetted off towards the water, and you heard Harry’s voice calling from behind you.
“You cheater!” He exclaimed as you ran through the shallow part of the lake, looking over your shoulder to see him closing in on you quickly. “Oh, you’re in for it, love.”
You squealed as you tried to tread through the water faster, but it was no use, and you soon felt his muscular, and inked, arms capturing your waist. Giggles flooded from your lungs as he lifted you out of the water, and he moved one arm down to carry your bridal style as he went out further.
Soon you found yourselves in the deepest part of the lake, and you skillfully shifted yourself around to where your legs were around his torso - one of your hands on his shoulder while the other ran through the back of his curls.
The sun was gleaming against his emerald eyes so perfectly, and you could already see freckles on his shoulders that were usually hidden coming to life just from the small amount of rays kissing his skin. He was perfect. He was your everything, and you knew you could never be without him.
“You know I love you more than anything, right?” Harry asked, and you nodded.
“I do, and I love you all the same,” you leaned down to place a delicate kiss against his lips, but as you pulled away, you felt Harry’s hand against the back of your neck to keep you close to his face - your foreheads almost touching.
“I’m never going to let anyone touch you again, do you understand? Never again,” his gaze was hard as he stared at you, but it’s because he wanted you to know that he was serious. “You’re always going to be safe with me, and I promise you that.”
“I know, honey,” you nodded, moving your hand from his shoulder to grip to the back of his neck as well, and you inched your head forward so your foreheads were now touching, but you kept holding his eyes.
“You’ll keep me safe. Forever.”
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Just a little blurb for you all on this Sunday evening. Let me know if you guys would be interested in seeing more of these two! I fear I’m attached to them already 🤭
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Taglist: @daydreamingofmatilda @prettygurl-2009 @ghoststyles @lillefroe @gem1712 @lemoncrushh (if you’d like to be added to my taglist, please send me a DM!)
619 notes · View notes
abandoned-anemoia · 4 months
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Nightmares
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☯ Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Fem!reader ☯ Genre: smut, a little fluff ☯ Word count: 2.4k ☯ Summary: When your reoccurring nightmare gets the best of you, you search for comfort in Seungcheol's presence. ☯ Warnings: nightmares, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), multiple positions, oral (f! receiving), restraint, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby. slut) ☯ A/N: Please Let me know if I need to add any warnings! ☯Disclaimer: None of my work represents any of the idols included in any way. This is merely fictional and all based on my opinion as a joke! I have nothing against any of these idols and love them all dearly.
Please do not copy, translate, or post as your own!
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Keep running. Keep pushing forward. That's all you could tell yourself as you sprint through the empty streets of a dead end town. You're not sure what exactly you're running from, but the fear that flows through you doesn't allow you to stop moving.
Glancing behind you, you see a dark figure speeding toward you. You know that if it catches you, that is the end. You try to scream but no sound escapes your body. No matter how hard you try to scream for help, for anyone to save you, your voice can't be heard.
It's closer now. You can hear the wispy hissing and unbearable screeching getting louder. The panic rises in your chest as you force yourself to keep running. It's going to get you. To kill you. You can do nothing to stop it.
It's cold breath is on your neck in mere seconds. Then it's in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. Dark sockets are all that exist where its eyes are meant to be. It's staring at you. Waiting for you to make your next move.
Your eyes snap open, body jolting up into a seated position. Hands clenching the sheets at your sides as cold sweat rolls down your face, chest rising and falling in rapid succession as you try to catch your breath. The time on the clock reads 1:06 A.M.
It's the same nightmare, every time. The dark figure never actually gets you. You just wake up when you know it's about to. Almost as if your body knows when to wake you up.
You can't go back to sleep right now, the nightmare will just start over. Knowing this, you sigh, sliding out of the bed. Not bothering to change clothes, you grab a jacket from the chair sitting in front of your small desk and leave your bedroom.
Slipping on your shoes that are tucked next to the front door of your apartment, you grab your keys and head out. Maybe a walk will clear your head. Some fresh air might help calm you down enough to sleep again.
Your brain didn't have a destination planned but your body did. The walk to his place feels familiar, almost as if your body is on autopilot—searching for comfort in the one person who never fails to provide it.
That's how you end up in front of his apartment door, staring at the white panels before knocking on the door. You feel guilty, knowing he will be asleep this late at night and you'll be waking him up.
Before the guilt can make you head back to your own apartment, the door opens to reveal a very dazed Seungcheol, clad in a black tee and gray sweats. He blinks repeatedly, trying to wake himself up and focus his eyes, squinting at your figure for a moment before he realizes who you are.
As he takes in your disheveled state, he ushers you inside, quickly pulling you into his arms. One hand rests on the back of your neck while the other presses against your back, pushing you flush against him. His voice is gentle when he speaks, hand rubbing your back soothingly, "What's wrong, Princess?"
Your hands grip his shirt at his sides. Taking a deep breath in, you let his scent fill your senses. The dull smell of birch wood with a rosy undertone—that perfect mix of floral and musk. His scent and the added warmth of his body against yours serves to calm your nerves enough to answer, "Nightmare."
Seungcheol hums in response, "Don't worry. I've got you."
He plants a kiss on the top of your head, his hands coming to squeeze your biceps before gently pushing you away from his body, "Come on. Let's get to bed."
Seungcheol pulls your jacket down your arms, hanging it next to his door while you slip your shoes off. You quietly allow him to guide you through his apartment and to his bedroom.
Still slightly on edge, afraid the nightmare will resurface, you sit on his bed as he moves to the other side. He lifts the covers, crawling underneath them, hand reaching over to you to run his fingers across your back, "Lie down. I promise I won't let anything get you."
Seungcheol knows about your recurring nightmare. You'd told him about it one night when you woke up gasping for air and scared him shitless. He had been nothing but understanding then and he is nothing but understanding in this moment—when you've shown up at his door in the middle of the night.
Giving in, you slip under the covers next to him, resting your head on the pillow. You both stay silent, not touching but simply staring at one another.
It's you who breaks the silence, guilt overcoming you once again, "I can't sleep."
Seungcheol responds with a tight-lipped smile, "Anything I can do to help?"
You shrug, not knowing what would get the image that is burned into the back of your eyelids to go away. His eyes are droopy and filled with sleep, but you know he won't fall asleep while you're still awake.
He shuffles closer to you, one arm resting under his head, the other crossed over his body. Your faces are so close now that you can feel every breath he takes, his nose almost touching yours. His hand comes up to run along your cheek as he moves closer, lips ghosting over your own.
You take the chance to close that final gap between the two of you, lips softly pressing against his. The hand that was once on your cheek, slowly moves down to your hip, pushing you onto your back as your lips move together.
Seungcheol's legs encase your body under his own when he moves to hover over you, his elbow resting next to your head to hold himself up. His tongue runs across your bottom lip as his hand sneaks under your shirt to rest on your bare hip. The kiss steals your breath, his lips aggressively moving against yours.
You grab the bottom of his shirt and tug at the fabric. His lips part from yours for a moment as he pulls the shirt over his head, carelessly tossing it to the floor before diving back in to kiss you again. Hands running under your shirt as the kiss heats up, he barely lets your lips part when you lift your body for him to slip your shirt off.
He nestles himself between your legs, his hips pressing against yours. His lips find their way to your neck, slowly moving down your chest, leaving sloppy open mouth kisses along the way. Rolling one nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he swirls his tongue around the other causing you to let out a sigh.
A string of split trails from your nipple to his mouth when he pulls away and replaces his other hand with his mouth, sucking the other nipple into his mouth. Fingers running through his hair, your breathing stutters when he grinds his hips into yours, feeling his bulge through his sweatpants.
His mouth trails down your body, planting a kiss on your lower stomach. Thumbs slipping under the waistband of your bottoms and underwear, his fingers pressing into your skin before pulling both pieces of fabric down your legs.
Kissing his way up the inside of your thigh, he looks up at you from between your legs. Your breath hitches in your throat when his eyes meet yours as his own breath hits your clit. Whining at the lack of contact, you wiggle your hips only causing Seungcheol to let out a dark chuckle, "What do you want, Princess?"
He's so close to you, every word out of his mouth causing a shiver to run up your spine, "Please."
"Please, what? Use your words, Sweetheart." You can't see the smirk on his face but you know it's there. Pausing for you to give him the answer, he swipes his tongue over your clit, "Come on, Princess, say it."
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth before answering, "Please, fuck me."
He flattens his tongue over your core before slipping it between your folds. Finally getting what you want, a loud moan escapes your lips. Your hips move to meet his mouth before he moves one arm over your hips, holding them against the mattress as his tongue delves deeper into your throbbing pussy.
Sucking on your clit and lapping desperately at your folds, he presses you further into the mattress. Eyes closed, breathing labored, and legs shaking as he devours you.
Heat coils in your stomach, fire burning through your body as you whimper, not being able to form words. Seungcheol quickly notices the change, shoving his tongue back into you, nose bumping against your clit as he purposely moves his head. The fire in the pit of your stomach swells, your whole body growing hotter, your moans growing louder and louder. A choked sob leaves your mouth when he curls his tongue into you, whole body shaking, making you want to scream as you reach your high.
His chin glistens when he pulls away from you, breathing heavily as he climbs up your body and attaches his lips to yours. You moan when tasting yourself on his lips. Your hands roam to his body, palming him through his pants, making him release a moan into your mouth and grind into your hand.
Quickly pulling his whole body away from yours, he pushes his sweats off before settling his hips back against yours. The tip of his dick hitting your sensitive clit as he drags it across your soaking pussy.
Squirming underneath him, you silently beg for him to do something. His hands run from your thighs to your ankles, grabbing them and folding your legs over on yourself. He holds your ankles together with one hand, your knees pressed to your chest as he lines himself up.
You feel the tip of his cock slipping between your folds, slowly easing into you to allow you time to adjust to his size. Hands gripping the sheets as he wastes no time pulling out and slamming back into you. He kisses your calf as he thrusts into you, hips slapping together.
His thumb presses against your clit, lighting a fire under your skin. Crying out when he picks up pace, your body shaking at the sensation filling your body, you search for anything to hold onto, hand frantically grabbing at the sheets and pillows before you hand lands in his hair, grabbing onto the strands for dear life. The moans leaving you get louder the closer you get to your release. Seungcheol's grunts and moans fill your ears. You know he won't last much longer as his hips start to stutter with every thrust bringing him closer to his high.
"Cum for me, baby." His breathy tone brings you closer to your release.
His hips slow down but his thrusts get more aggressive, pounding into you harshly, thumb rubbing over your clit faster. Letting out a scream, you cum all over his dick. Letting out a loud groan, he gives you one last thrust. You can feel his cum fill you up, seeping out of your cunt when he pulls out of you.
He lets go of your ankles, throwing both of your legs to the side and flipping you onto your stomach. Gripping your hips tightly, he pulls your hips up, running his hands over your ass before leaving a harsh smack that makes a gasp escape your lips. He pushes back into you causing you to cry out into the pillow.
"Give me your hands." Seungcheol's voice is demanding, raspy and filling with lust as he takes your hands, crossing your wrists over one another and holding against to your back.
He holds your wrists together as he thrusts into you, hips slapping against your ass as his dick hits all of the right places. He moves your wrists farther up your back, arching your back to give him the perfect angle. Fucking into your sopping cunt, his voice strained as he speaks, close to reaching another high, "Fuck, Baby. Always taking me so well. My little slut."
His thrusts get harsher as he lets go of your wrists, running his hand up your back and grabbing a fist full of your hair, pulling you toward him. Turning your head to the side, staring into your eyes as he thrusts up into you. He roughly presses his lips to yours, groaning into your mouth. His grip on your hair tightens, slightly pulling your head back as his free hand finds its way to your clit, "Who owns this pussy?"
Choking out a strangled moan as he thrusts into you, you struggle to find words, "You."
"I can't hear you, Princess. Who?" His warm breath hits your neck, his world drawing out another moan.
A sharp snap of his hips causes you to scream out in pleasure, returning to low whimpers as you answer him, louder this time, "You. It's all yours."
His hand leaves your hair, wrapping around your body to grab your chest, squeezing tightly as he fucking into you, "That's what I thought."
Hips pressing against you, thrusting harder than before as he rubs circles on your clit. Blinding light covers your vision, head falling back into Seungcheol's shoulder and body shaking at the intensity of the feeling of your release. Seungcheol holds you against him as he releases into you, pressing hot kisses against your neck.
Heavy breathing fills the room. Seungcheol slowly lays you down and takes his place next to you. He gently moves a strand of hair from your face, leaning in to kiss your forehead and then your nose before reaching your lips. Pressing soft kisses to your lips as he draws shapes onto your bare back, he smiles at you, "You okay?"
A short laugh escapes your lips, "Never been better."
The smile on his face widens, the rough man from moments ago replaced with the sweet one in front of you, "Do you think you can sleep?"
His voice held nothing but love and concern. Smiling back at him, you nod, "I'm gonna hope I have that nightmare more often if it ends up like this."
Seungcheol lets out a happy laugh, shaking his head at you, "You just have to ask."
The nightmare was far from your mind. There is no fear of closing your eyes and seeing the dark sockets where eyes should be because all you can see when you close your eyes are Seungcheol's love filled eyes staring back at you.
712 notes · View notes
themorningsunshine · 1 year
Text
Pie - eyed over you
Mafia - Baker AU 
Masterlist                         Series Masterlist
Pairing - Mafia!Bucky x Baker!Reader
Summary - When a new baker in town refuses to abide by his rules, Bucky has no option but to go and take care of it himself. But nothing could prepare him for what stood on the other side. Nothing could prepare him for you.
Warnings - Mentions of murder and weapons 
Word count - 3.3k
a/n - This is my first time writing an AU and I am super nervous (also because I have combined two things I can just not write about, weapons and cooking). Please let me know what you think.
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Rain was pouring heavily on the roof of the shed and he wasn't sure if the old sheds meekly covering the building could contain them much longer. He couldn't care less.
He walks out of the building and into the rain, wiping his left arm on his dry coat to wipe off the blood covering it. The pouring rain caresses his face but does nothing to the ever-present frown on his forehead and the grimace on his lips.
He used to love the rain as a kid. The gentleness of the droplets, the smell of rain, and the puddles. It was so much easier back then. So innocent. He closes his eyes as droplets slide their way all over him. They touch him like they don't know what he has just done.
His frown deepens as images claw into his mind once again. He clenches his fist remembering how it had taken him mere 10 seconds to shoot 3 bullets straight into the man's head. The killing had become easier over the years. Picking the bullet and shooting straight into the target had become second nature to him.
What hadn't become easier was the aftermath. The guilt that somehow always gnawed its way into his heart. The question was there any other way?
With his eyes still closed, he brings his face towards the sky, daring the rain to wash away his thoughts the same way it has washed away the blood that stuck to his metal arm not so long ago.
He likes the rain for a completely different reason now.
It provides him with an escape.
From his mind.
His thoughts
The images. The man screaming, begging him to stop and he doesn't even feel disgusted by himself when he doesn't even falter. He left his men to take care of the body.
A face lingers in his mind, pushing away all the dark thoughts. His ma "Bucky "
It's like he can hear her call out to him, urging him to come back home.
She would have hated how he turned out.
But he tells himself he doesn't care.
It didn't matter what his ma would have thought about him. She wasn't here. She didn't have to know.
He snaps his eyes open when he doesn't feel the rain falling on his face anymore. He can still hear the raindrops thudding on the roofs of the buildings. He looks up to see a huge umbrella over his head, shielding him from the rain.
He frowns and follows the handle of the outrageous floral print object only to be met by the sight that was going to change his life forever.
The first thing he saw when his eyes met y/e/c ones was that they held a certain softness to them that he didn't think still existed in this world. He was almost afraid to take his eyes off yours as if he was scared that you would crumble down under his gaze.
But when he brought his eyes over your face and then the rest of you, he knew it was the most beautiful sight his eyes had ever landed on. That even the most beautiful paintings in the world didn't hold a candle to you.
"Are you okay?" You whispered, voice so gentle, it could calm the most violent of storms.
Bucky thinks those are the most precious three words he has ever heard. He nods his head, mostly because he doesn't speak too much these days and also because it has been a very long time since someone has asked him that question.
"I am walking that way and the rain is increasing, you don't want to get drenched. Walk with me?" You ask and he thinks he would burn the whole world down to the ground with a smile on his face if you asked.
He looks at the way you are pointing and realizes that's where his car is parked. He says, "Okay" and sees as you take a step towards him, covering the both of you with your umbrella, and his senses are filled with your smell. You smell like freshly baked cookies and coffee. It's his new favorite smell.
You take a couple of steps ahead before turning towards him and he realizes he is staring. He doesn't remember the last time when somebody had enthralled him so much. For some reason, he just can't get himself to look away.
"I have not seen you around before." He says only to hear you speak again.
"Yeah, I am kind of new here. Been less than a week." You reply with a smile on your face and Bucky thinks this cursed town has just been blessed.
You look around before commenting, "It's a beautiful town." And for the love of god, he can't figure out how this part of the town which is more of a  dumpster with remnants of buildings all around can be beautiful to somebody.
"This is not really a safe place." When you look at him with confusion in your eyes, he continues, "Especially at this time of night." As if that explanation is enough. He straightens his back and tries to get the confident, mob aura he has around everyone. "What are you doing here?"
If his slightly changed demeanor throws you off guard, you don't point it out. You just bite your lip before speaking, "What if I tell you I lost my way?"
The chuckle that leaves him is involuntary. "Really? Lost your way?"
"Hey. In my defense, it's just been a week." You place your hand on your chest in fake offense.
"Where were you heading to?"
You put your hand in your pocket before taking out a piece of paper. "Here"
Bucky takes the paper from you and looks at it with furrowed brows. "Why are you walking this way? This place is at the other end of that alley." He says before pointing out to a dark alley.
You make an o shape with your mouth before turning toward where he is pointing. "Got it. Thanks."
When you reach his car and his driver opens the door for him, he turns back before saying, "Let me drop you." It doesn't sound like a request.
"No, no. It's fine. I don't want to be trouble. Also, I am not sure your car would fit in there." You said before tilting your umbrella towards yourself.
"I'll see you around." You tell him before giving him a small wave and walking away, a smile still etched on your lips.
Bucky stands there, watching you go, and realizes he didn't ask your name. But he'd be damned if he let you go in that alley alone. He asks one of his men to make sure that you reach your destination safely.
"Keep an eye from afar." He instructs him. Voice cold and commanding.
But the frown on his head and the grimace on his lips are a little less evident on the way back.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?" Bucky's voice bellowed around the dark room, startling everyone around him.
"S- sir, I tried." Peter bows his head before whimpering.
Steve, who has been standing beside Bucky's chair leans in to whisper, "He is just a kid, Buck."
Bucky rubs his hand over his face before looking at Peter trying his best to give him a soft look. "Okay, Peter. I don't have time for this. What exactly is the problem here? And don't tell me a full-blown story."
"S-sir, the new bakery. The owner says she isn't going to pay the money. Said something about taxes and also that, 'If I don't barge in there asking for weapons, don't barge into my place asking for money.'
Some of the men standing in the corner chuckle but are rewarded by a glare from Bucky.
"I don't have time to deal with a Baker. Did you tell her that everybody in town pays the money? It's for protection." He says, voice slightly irritated. The townspeople feared him. There was no doubt about that in his mind. Hence, they sent him money at the start of every month diligently. But sometimes, out of the blue, someone would come and try to be the savior, trying to rebel. He didn't understand what they wanted. He wasn't a monster. Over the years, he had relieved some people of paying the money on various occasions.
"I did tell her that, sir. She asked me who exactly is this protection from." Peter whispered, now slightly trembling with fear.
This piqued Bucky's interest. Over the years, nobody had ever asked his men the reason behind the money. They just obliged.
Peter continued, "I told her it's from the mob. Some of us. And she said she isn't going to pay us to do the bare minimum, to be human." Bucky leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes in annoyance.
Steve spoke up, "It's okay, Buck. I'll handle this. You know they all give in eventually."
Bucky opened his eyes and stood up from his chair. "Nope, I will come with you. This is different." He then looked at Sam who was standing at the other end of the room, "Receive the order of the weapons. The delivery is scheduled in an hour."
Same nodded his head before walking out of the room. Bucky dismissed the other men and along with Steve walked towards Peter, both of the men towering over him.
"Peter, are those crumbles of pie on your face?"
A shiver passed through Peter at his cold tone and he willed himself to speak, "She gave it to me, sir. I tried to refuse. Really did. But she said that I am just a kid and don't deserve - " Peter cut himself before he could speak too much. He somehow had the habit of always speaking about stuff that is supposed to be kept secret.
A small smile found its way to Bucky's lips but it was gone as soon as it came and he patted Peter's shoulder dismissing him. "This is different." He said to Steve before walking out of the room.
And for some reason, he was sure it was true.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
"We are here, sir."
Bucky looked up from the file he was reading to his driver and then around him. It was one of the good areas of the town where families stayed, holed up in their whole little world, the darkness of the other side not fully reaching them.
Steve instructed the driver and the guard to stay in the car as the both of them walked out. "That is the one," Steve said pointing towards something.
Bucky followed his gaze and his movements faltered for a slight second. He had never seen something so - warm.
A little bakery standing between a bookstore and a cycle stand with sweets adorning its shelves looking delicious enough to lure anybody inside—soft music playing in the little speaker placed outside. People occupying the chairs outside and inside the shop, kids running around with huge grins on their faces, every one into their own little world.
It looked lively.
Bucky couldn't remember seeing something like this in the town before. Maybe he hadn't even bothered, or maybe something had really changed. With their black sunglasses and dressed up in dark colors from head to toe, he wasn't sure if he and Steve were going to fit in, but he couldn't care less.
As they walked closer, Bucky could now see most of the shop and when his eyes landed on the sole person behind the counter, his breath hitched in his throat.
Removing his sunglasses to get a better look, he stopped in his tracks when his suspicions were confirmed.
.
It was her.
The girl with the floral umbrella and the warm smile.
The girl who had somehow crept her way into his thoughts more than he would like to admit in the past week since he had seen her.
And she was beautiful.
He saw as you stood behind the counter, handing a box to a little girl with a huge grin on your face, the girl jumping up and down in excitement as you leaned towards her to whisper something.
He then saw the little girl run out of the bakery, clutching the box to her chest towards her mother as if it was the most precious thing in the world. When his eyes went back to you, he saw how you talked to the next customer, an old lady, with the same huge grin on your face.
He hadn't noticed that he had been staring until Steve cleared his throat, a smirk on his face. Before Steve could say something, Bucky muttered, "Stay here, let me handle this." He walks towards the stops with a calculated gaze and a perfected aura of confidence.
As he opens the door to the bakery, the smell of coffee and cookies hits him hard and a feeling of warmth engulfs him.
"How can I - " Your words die in your throat when your eyes land on the familiar figure.
Bucky could swear your smile gets wider.
You compose yourself before saying, "Hey, I know you. You are the cute guy from the other day."
Bucky frowns as he takes in your words. Cute? Did you just call him cute? He had been called intimidating, scary, and even sexy. But cute? He was furious. He was anything BUT cute. Also, was he allergic to something in the shop? Why the hell was his stomach suddenly fluttering?
He also ignores the way his heart is beating quicker at the realization that you remembered him. What was happening to him today? "I am looking for y/n l/n."
Your smile turned slightly mischievous as you replied, "That would be me."
Bucky's eyes almost widened at that. "You are y/n? The owner of the bakery?"
"Yup." You said popping the p as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And the last I checked, introductions went both ways."
You raised your hand towards him for a handshake and after looking at your hand for a moment, he shook it. "I am B - James." For some reason, he didn't want you to know who he was. The nickname might give it away.
You smiled at him again before returning your hand, a little too early for Bucky's liking, "So, James. What can I get you?"
He had it all planned. It was like second nature to him. I want my money. Abide by the rules, you don't want to know the consequences. It was the usual. But for some reason, his mouth had gained a mind of its own as it said before he could comprehend, "Cupcakes"
You looked at the huge display of baked goods before looking back at him, "Which one?"
Bucky gave the display a glance, he was sure he hadn't ever tasted most of them. "What do you recommend, sweets?"
He watches as you are visibly taken aback by the nickname. A smirk find its way to his lips as he watched red color creeping up to your neck.
"I - uhm" You take a breath to compose yourself. Get it together. "These red velvet cupcakes just came out of the oven and they are kinda my favorite. So.." You look at Bucky with excitement in your eyes and he likes how passionate you are about your work.
"I'll take a box."
You smile at him before bending down to pack a box of the delicacy and he watches how you oh-so-gently pick up each piece before placing it inside the box with practiced precision.
When you hand over the box to him and your hands brush, you feel the sparks through your spine once again as when you had shaken hands.
When he puts a hand in his pocket to retrieve the money, you cut him off. "Don't worry about it. It's on the house."
Bucky smiles a little before replying, "Sweets, you keep giving free goods like that and you'll have to close the shop soon." He says in a teasing voice.
"I'll let you in on a secret, James." You lean towards him as if it is the most secretive thing in the world. "This is a business strategy."
He frowns a little, trying to cover the fact that he was getting too comfortable with how close the both of you were, before saying, "How's that?"
"The first order is on the house but then you come again. And again. It's really profitable."
There is this - innocence and purity in your voice that reminds him of a little child. Of old times. Easier times. And he just stares into your eyes for as long as he can, as if they could help him escape, become a portal to a time long lost.
You don't dare to move either. His eyes are the prettiest shade of blue you have ever seen. They have this intensity to them as if hiding the stories of a lifetime and you just can't get yourself to look away. You have always loved a good mystery.
Bucky clears his throat, bringing the both of you out of the daze as he brings the teasing tone back to his voice, "What makes you think I will come back?"
You chuckle a little before giving a proud smile. "Oh, you will, James. I trust my cupcakes."
He gives you another small smile as he takes a step back. This is the longest conversation he has had with a person outside his line of work in a very long time. Everybody was just too scared but he couldn't care less.
"Goodbye, sweets." He says before letting the new customer who had just entered go ahead. 
"Goodbye, James. Until next time." You add with a wink.
Bucky walks out of the bakery, his initial motive forgotten completely. From the outside, he turns back to look at you for the one last time and watches as you say something that makes the teenage boy laugh while taking out cookies from the shelf.
A moment later, you look towards the window and your eyes meet for a fleeting second. You smile at him and give him a small wave.
Bucky turns around to walk towards his car when he notices Steve standing a few feet away with a knowing smirk on his face.
Bucky rolls his eyes before muttering with clenched teeth, "Don't"
Steve doesn't ask about the money and Bucky is glad. He isn't really sure how he would answer. Whatever happened wasn't what he was expecting.  You weren't what he was expecting.
As he slid into the back seat of his car, the image of your smile when you were that close to him lingered in his mind and he couldn't stop the way his lips had pulled slightly upward.
When the car started driving, and with Steve on a phone call, he opened the box of cupcakes and picked one to take a small bite.
As he takes the first bite, the softness and the sweetness of the cake engulf him and leave him wanting more. He doesn't remember eating something this good in a long time.
And for many reasons, he will definitely visit again.  
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4K notes · View notes
libbyfandom · 5 months
Text
“In This Life, and the Next. I Swear.”
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Happy Holidays, have a bittersweet reincarnation fic.
Summary: Mizu may not believe in reincarnation, but you do. You'll believe in it enough for both of you. You may not be strong, but your soul is. You'll carry her to a better lifetime.
Content Warnings: Did your really think no one would die in a reincarnation fic? Hmmm?
“Next lifetime, you have to court me,” you murmur into Mizu’s neck as her fingers trace along the bare skin of your back where you lie atop her. “None of this... stoic loner act where I have to wear you down into letting me love you. Yeah?”
Mizu snorts, her other hand resting over her eyes. “Not on your life.”
Making an offended noise, you bite her collarbone in retaliation, hearing her laughter fill the inn room.
“When we come back, I want our lives to be simple,” you say as Mizu helps you down from the horse you borrowed on your escape from the last town.
Resisting the urge to let a sigh slip at this fantasy coming back up again, she mutters, “Yeah? You’d prefer to have a boring life, after you basically attached yourself to me and Ringo to escape your home?”
“Well yeah, I’m getting all of my adventuring done in this life cycle.”
“And you don’t want that again?” Mizu starts to lead the horse toward the outer skirts of the city, hoping to find a stable to leave it without being spotted.
You walk alongside her, studying her passive expression. “I do." A beat. "But I want you to have peace more.”
Her eyes dart to you, genuinely caught off guard. The openness, the honesty in your face has a bubble of overwhelming emotion welling up in her chest.
Her head turns back to the road, retreating into her silence to avoid speaking and risking her voice betraying her.
But after a few minutes of her staring off into the distance, she quietly says with a softened brow, “That’s kind.”
‘Do you regret choosing this life, knowing how quickly it will all end? Or did you walk into it blindly, optimistic for some happier resolution?’
Mizu jerks you up into her arms, apologizing frantically over and over as you scream in pain when she applies pressure to the stab wound deep in your stomach. She tenses her grip as your body tries to seize and jerk away from the splitting, hot pain radiating through your nerves from pressure on the gash. You’re too scared to look down and see your own insides peeling away from each other.
Taigen and Ringo are fending off the last few bounty hunters, the clashing of swords and knives fading into the background as you dig your bloodied fingers into her haori. “Come find-find me again,” you say with frantic eyes, swallowing back another mouthful of metallic blood forcing its way up your burning throat.
“What?!” Mizu’s attention is torn between keeping an eye on her back and wrapping a torque around your middle from the fabric she torn off your kosode.
You grab her face, leaving a bloody streak on her cheek as you force her to look at you. Her widened blue eyes are forced to look into yours with no barrier, her glasses lost somewhere in the snow from the fight. You can feel how fast your body is losing warmth. The edges of your vision are blurring, and the draw to fall asleep is growing more powerful than the burning gap in your stomach. Mizu may not know how to die, but you-
‘I’m so sorry, my love. I’m so, so sorry.’
You need her to hear you before everything stops. So you grip her cheek and stare into her panic-stricken eyes. You’re scared too, but you’re more scared of coming back to this world and not seeing her again than you are of not coming back at all.
“Come find me again.”
Mizu hates the concept of promises, and the bigger and more impossible they sound the more she avoids them. But you nose is turning pink from the cold, or from your crying. Tears are trailing down the sides of your temples, cutting through any blood stains across your face.
And she hates promises.
Tears well in her own eyes as she clenches her teeth against a violent sob.
But she hates denying you proof that she loves you more. If you pass without it… if you die with the last words in your ears being 'I can't'…
Every whisper and cry of “Onryō” she’s ever heard echo louder and louder in her head until they're all scream chanting in unison. She blinks, and for a heart-freezing moment your terrified eyes turn her shade of blue.
“Onryō!”
“ONRYŌ!”
"𝔬n҉𝔯y҉𝔬o҉𝔫r҉𝔶o҉𝔬n҉𝔯y҉𝔬o҉𝔫r҉𝔶o҉𝔬n҉𝔯y҉𝔬-"
Her hand lifts away from the rapidly growing stain of blood coming through the makeshift torque across your abdomen and settles on your cheek.
She forces the corners of her mouth up into a reassuring smile as her own body trembles.
“Okay,” her voice wavers as she blinks out tears. “I’ll come find you.” Her voice is like a child making their first vow. “I’ll, I’ll come find you again.”
You smile weakly, and despite her own forced one, her eyes fill with terror for just a moment at the blood staining your teeth.
You reach up and tug her hair out of its high bun, watching it tumble around her shoulders.
You need your soul to memorize what she looks like when she’s not hiding. For next time.
Your own smile wavers. “You have to. I won’t… I won’t forgive you if you don’t.”
The fragile look on her face crumples into despair. Mizu leans her temple against yours as the sobs overtake her, her long hair draping over both of your faces and blocking out the world. “I will. I will I will I will I will I-“
Her fractured voice fades away, and your vision swims.
But your soul is at peace.
‘It's your turn, Mizu.’
‘I ended up burying you with as many red spider lilies I could scavenge. They’ll help guide you to the next life. I made Ri( ) swear to bury me next to you with just as many. If he’s around to collect my corpse when I go. If anyone is. ( )I used to not care if anyone did, as long as I finished my mission. But now I’m terrified something happens and I can’t keep my promise.
I’m sorry. I miss you. I’m sorry I made a promise that’s out of my hands.
( )
I’m sorry.’
You stare down at the spread of papers and antique diaries written in kanji. You’re trying to organize them by chronological order based on context from the letters and diaries, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult as you go. Especially with words smudged and faded by centuries of time. You rub your eye behind your glasses.
‘She really is making this hard for me.’ You sigh through your nose as you bite down on the end of your pen.
“Excuse me?”
“Hm?” You glance to your side, surprised to be pulled from your work and come face to face with probably the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen. “Hello?”
“Sorry,” she smiles, lowering her head to pull her tinted glasses off. “I just saw you over here and uh-“ her expression goes a little strained as she looks for the right words. “I just, uh-”
You glance between her and the spread of antique writing from the archives. “Are you the person that checked these out last? Do you need them back?”
“No. I just-" She makes a face. Whatever she planned to say when she came over was quickly unraveling. Her eyes dart away, and land on the diaries. Her eyebrows furrow slowly, something flickering in her blue eyes.
Very pretty eyes…
She jerks her chin down at the spread of papers. “What is that?”
A little thrown off at the changes in conversation, you pick up one of the diaries. “Um, this is work for my master thesis. I’m studying unknown woman and queer history of Edo Japan.” Your fingers drum over the cover. “Came across this treasure when going through the archives. It’s a bunch of writing from a rogue swordsman to his lover after her death. But in my review of it, I’m positive I can prove that he was actually a woman,” you grin a little with pride, shifting your weight side to side with delight at getting to discuss your research.
“Lesbian samurai,” she laughs lowly, eyes warm.
“Something like that,” the corners of your lips lift up.
“Well that’s really fascinating,” her fingers trail across the edge of the table as she steps closer. “I’d love to hear more about it. Maybe… over dinner?” The corner of her mouth grimaces for a moment, her eye twitching once with frustratation at herself with that cheesy delivery.
Your lips part, eyes widening with a breathless little “Oh.”
The woman gains confidence from how your eyes light up behind your glasses as you flush. Her hand squeezes her shoulder, a nervous tic. “I’m sorry. I saw your over here and had to give it a shot.”
“No, I’m glad you did,” you’re quick to reassure her. You look up at her with bright eyes as you dig through your backpack for notebook paper.
“I wouldn’t have forgiven you if you didn’t.”
A tilt of her lips, her hand outstretched. “Mizu.”
You introduce yourself.
You hold out the pen and paper to get her number, and she asks as she leans over to scribble it out on the table, “Anything good in those letters?”
“Most of it’s pretty grief heavy,” you smile sadly. “But in a poetic and romantic way? Like, even though her love was gone, probably pretty young, she kept her memory alive as she fought through life.”
Mizu glances up at you, and something tightens in your throat and sinks into your stomach. You don’t know why you admit quietly, “The first time I read them I started crying in the archive room.”
A beat, where you feel dread creep up your neck at suddenly tanking the mood.
Her face grows impassive, deadly quiet for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
You quickly blink back tears that come on alarmingly fast. “What?”
Mizu blinks too, straightening up. “Just, sorry that it made you sad. I guess.” She smiles again, albeit a little smaller this time, and hands over the paper. “I guess I’ll see you? Hopefully soon?”
A soft laugh huffs out your nose as that melancholic moment passes. “Yeah,” your hand brushes against the inside of her palm as you take the paper. “Really soon.”
She leaves you with a satisfied grin, her nose scrunching up as she turns and walks off.
You watch her go, feeling something tighten in your stomach again at how relaxed she looks.
You look down at her number, and see that she slyly signed it with the kanji for “Promise”.
As you begin to organize the letters to skim through them again, your hesitate on the one you had just been reviewing. You hold it and the notebook paper up side by side.
The letter unfolds and a single, dried, book pressed red spider lily flutters to your feet.
Mizu perfectly copied the handwriting of the swordswoman’s kanji.
“Huh.”
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yournowheregirl · 8 months
Text
@eddiemonth day 4: rejection
rating: T | wc: 913 | cw: hurt/comfort, general & UD related anxiety, hoh!Steve, pre-Steddie
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Eddie flops down on his bed with a load groan.
He blindly reaches for a pillow and once he’s found one, he uses it to muffle his screams. It barely dampens the sound, but he's home alone anyway. He screams and screams until his throat starts to hurt and the tears he tried so hard to ignore, finally well up in his eyes.
Another rejection.
Another place that didn't want to hire him.
Even with all the strings Hopper and those government guys had pulled to clear his name, Eddie can't escape his brand-new reputation of local satanist and serial killer. There was a press conference and everything, and a personal apology from the police department, but it still wasn't enough to sway the public's opinion of him.
But he has to get a job, like yesterday. They'll run out of that government money sooner or later and he can't expect Wayne to continue cleaning up his mess. Wayne's done enough of that already.
Eddie's tried almost every place in town. His first instinct was the record store and the garage, because that's what where his interests and experience lie. They turned him away as soon as he came in to drop off his resume.
When he told his friends about his job search, Steve immediately offered to put a good word in for him at Family Video. Robin would ask their parents if they knew about any job openings and Nancy would do the same, though she'd avoid Eddie's name while talking to her father. Gareth, Jeff and Frank suggested he'd ask for a job at The Hideout, while Jonathan and Argyle suggested the local pizza place, because of course they would.
None of those jobs ever got back to him.
Today was one of his last resorts. The diner on the other side of town had an opening for a dishwasher. Not exactly the kind of job Eddie wanted, but it meant keeping a low profile and it would pay the bills. He'd take the job in a heartbeat, but the restaurant manager took one good look at him and sent him away before she even took one good look at his resume.
"We don't hire murderers." She'd sneered.
Any other day, Eddie would've maybe stand up for himself, made a whole scene, maybe even called the cops to prove his innocence yet again. But he was so burnt out from rejection after rejection, that he just shrugged, got into his van and drove all the way back home.
Even though the screaming helped a little, Eddie can still feel his mind buzzing, thoughts of anxiety swirling around and threatening to swallow him whole if he doesn't do something quick. He rolls off the bed, put whatever tape he can get his hands on into his boombox and turns up the volume to the loudest setting.
Other people might listen to soothing music to calm down, but Eddie needs the loudest, most aggressive music to drown out the thoughts in his head. The thoughts of never getting a job and leaving it up to Wayne to pick up the pieces, driving him to work harder and longer, until his brittle body can't take it anymore. Thoughts of losing their home again, being forced to call Rick again
It's all his fault. Everything is his fault.
Tears slowly roll down his cheeks as the music continues playing, so loud that he doesn't hear Wayne coming home. So loud that he doesn't hear Wayne picking up the phone to call someone. So loud that he doesn't hear the knock on his bedroom door twenty minutes later.
It's not until his bedroom goes completely quiet that Eddie finally notices he's not alone. For a second he thinks it's Wayne, but when he hears a muffled "oh thank God" from the other side of the trailer, he realizes that it must be someone else.
"Y'know, if you were so jealous of my new accessories, you could've just said so. No reason to shatter your eardrums like this." Steve says with a teasing grin. The sunlight reflects on the hearing aids he'd gotten a few months ago and of course, he pulls it off like he's a goddamn Calvin Klein model.
"Sorry."
Eddie's voice is small, barely recognizable to his own ears and Steve immediately picks up on it. His teasing smile fades away as he walks over to the bed and sit down next to Eddie. He shuffles around a bit to find a comfortable seat against the headboard and pats his lap.
Completely drained from his terrible day, Eddie doesn't even try to fight it and cuddles up next to Steve. He rests his head in Steve's lap and lets out a sigh of relief when Steve's hands find their way to his scalp.
"What's going on?" Steve asks softly.
"Another fucking job didn't want me." Eddie mutters against the fabric of his polo.
Steve hums in acknowledgement. "I'm sorry. You wanna talk about it or do you want some quiet time?"
"Quiet, please."
"Alright."
See, with Steve around, Eddie doesn't need the music to drown out his bad thoughts. They float away on their own as soon as Steve cuddles with him and starts massaging his scalp. Or, on other occasions, they float away when Steve distracts him by talking about Robin's hopeless love life.
Steve being there for him just helps, in general.
Eddie doesn't wanna look into that realization too much.
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ghouljams · 1 year
Text
Cowboy time.
Ghost doesn't let you call him his name. It's his last line of defense against you and your intolerable ability to get under his skin. It drives you crazy. He introduces himself to everyone in town as Simon and yet you are forced to keep him at arms length. Even though he had you screaming his name when you first met him, if you so much as attempt to call him "Simon" he shuts it down immediately. You think he knows it bothers you too, but you're both too stubborn to bring it up.
Well that's just fine with you, you don't want to call him Simon anyway.
He really lives up to his call sign following you around town while you run errands. You didn't want to invite him but your dad insisted you needed an escort. Which Ghost thinks was a smart idea watching the way you lean over the counter and flirt with the shop keeper at every stop to try and get discounts. It takes everything in him to not throw you over his shoulder and haul you away from the lecherous stares those men fix you with.
It takes two stores for him to crack, and it's the puppy eyes you fix him with when you see the newly hatched chicks at the supply store. "Be good," he tells you, checking the neat little list you fixed for him against bags of feed.
"But look how cute they are," you pout, scooping up a chicken to show him. He glances at you, unamused.
"I've seen cuter," he hauls a bag of feed over his shoulder like it weighs nothing, "Be good and I'll give you a reward when we're done."
You roll your eyes and settle the chick back under the heat lamp, feeling Ghost close behind as you make your way to the counter to negotiate price. As soon as you start to flirt you feel Ghost's glare, hear his warning growl. You sigh and try to rely on whatever good will you have in town. It doesn't work as well. You'll have to redo you budgets if this keeps up, but you're good if only so you can see what Ghost has thought up as a reward.
When you finally finish all your shopping Ghost loads the truck, glaring at every other guy who offers a hand. You tug the cab door open and he reaches past you to shut it, leaning close.
"So you're just being a full on dick now?" You ask, turning to lean against the truck, trying to act like having him so close doesn't make your heart start to beat out of your chest.
"You want your reward or not? " He asks, tipping his head to one side, a brow raised like you're the one being difficult. You narrow your eyes at him, almost wishing you'd gotten the deals you wanted now.
"Depends on what it is"
"Eyes closed," you sigh and close your eyes, "open your mouth."
"You want me to get on my knees too?" You can't help the sarcastic comment, but Ghost is close enough you can almost feel his shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.
"Just open it."
You huff, and open your mouth, sticking out your tongue for good measure. Just to tease him. You feel him move, hear the rustle of fabric and then... and then.
His fingers press up against your jaw, holding you in place with a rough hand around your throat as his tongue slides against yours, licking once to edge it into his mouth, lips closing around the wet muscle before his tongue darts out again to lick into your mouth. Hot and insistent as he kisses you filthy, all tongue and teeth. He makes your head spin, your fingers twist into his shirt for something to hold onto. Ghost pulls away too soon, his tongue replaced by something hard and honeyed.
He's already walking away when you open your eyes, mask fixed back in place as he circles the truck to open the passenger door and climb in. You wonder which was the reward, the kiss or the sucker. You're still mad at him as you climb in and start up the truck.
"So... Si-"
"Nope."
You pout the rest of the way home.
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jasmines-library · 5 months
Note
Hey!!! I love your writing and I want to request a Batfam where the reader (youngest sister) went into a coma and then wakes up after two months of many complications.
Sorry if the request sounds weird and unclear😅
Wait For You.
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Summary: Whilst trying to protect your brother on a patrol, an explosive causes you to fall into a coma. Your brother stick by you through your recovery.
Warnings: Explosives, injury/blood, coma.
Word Count: 2k
⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤
Things had gotten bad quickly. You and Tim were supposed to be out on an easy patrol. Gotham was quiet for once, so you and your older brother Tim decided to let your brothers have the night off for once. Oh boy was that a bad idea. You should have taken the unusual silence as a warning, as a huge red flag being waved right in front of your faces, but you were all too naive over the fact that patrol would be easy. But as soon as you had suited up and slipped out of your cave, shit hit the fan.
It started with two perfectly timed robberies on opposite sides of the city. You had to admit that you were slightly suspicious, but it wasn’t anything uncommon for a crime riddled city like Gotham and it was nothing you couldn’t handle, so you split off from your brother and went to deal promptly with the criminals before handing them off to the police to deal with. But then, as you were on the way to meet Tim, things got worse. The entire city lost power. One by one the street lights flickered off and the billboards shut down, plunging the city into complete darkness, besides the full moon that grinned down on the skyscrapers, but provided very little light to the ground.
“Red? You there?” You called out through the coms, hoping that the power outage hadn’t affected your signal. 
There was a moment of gut-wrenching silence before the sound of his voice crackled through the static. The signal was compromised, but not enough so that the two of you couldn’t communicate with the rest of the cave. “I’m here. Where are you?”
“Near the Cauldron, making my way towards China Town.”
“Copy. I’ll meet you there, be careful Raven.”
“I’ll try.” You said, making your way through the derelict streets, heading towards the red bunting that hung above ChinaTown as another voice crackled through the coms.
“Patrol, this is Oracle. Can you hear us?”
You hummed. 
“Good. We lost you for a moment when the power went out. What happened?”
“We’re not sure yet. I’m about to rendezvous with Red. We’ll see what we can find.”
“Alright. Stay on the line.”
“Copy.”
You rounded the corner where you saw Tim sprinting towards you. He gripped you tight and checked you over for any injuries. 
“You okay?”
“Fine.” You nodded. “Any idea what happened?”
He shook his head. “No, but it can’t mean anything good. We were separated before this happened so this has definitely been planned. Someone is trying to separate us.”
“Yeah, but who?”
“I don’t know. We need to get looking and send for backup.”
“Oracle,” Tim voiced into his com “We’re gonna need some backup. Something’s definitely happening and we-”
A building to your left exploded, sending sparks of debris all around you with a plume of smoke. 
“Raven run!” Tim yelled as more buildings began to collapse around you, forcing the two of you to run as fast as you could until you reached a small clearing and the sound of the explosions seemed to have stopped. 
You skidded to a halt, trying to catch your breath and soothe the burn in your legs when you saw it. A small red light blinking rapidly just to Tim’s right. But he was facing the other way and there was no way he was going to see it and get out of the way. The light flashed faster and faster as you dove forwards, knocking your brother out of the way with a shout of his name. 
You tackled him out of the way and onto the concrete just before the explosive detonated just inches away from where he was standing. The force of it sent the two of you flying across the asphalt. You let out a small scream that was cut short by the pain that radiated across your body; cuts and blistering burns that had managed to burn their way through parts of your suit before your head collided with the ground and everything went blank. 
Tim hauled himself to his feet, scanning the ash filled sky and limping towards where he had seen your body get flung to. His heart stopped when he saw you laying bloody and unconscious on the ground. 
“Raven!” He cried, picking up his pace and falling just short of your side. Crawling the rest of the way, he gripped your suit, noting the sticky red that seeped slowly into your hair. “No. No. Raven wake up.”
He patted your face urgently, but you did not stir; you lay limp in his arm, your head lolling on the ground as he tried to shake you awake. “No. Not like this, Raven come on!”
He was crying now, his tears leaving little trails where they had washed away all of the soot that had landed on his face. He placed his head to your chest to listen to your shallow breathing before hauling you onto his lap. He was injured too, and the motion hurt him greatly, but he brushed it aside as he clung to you. “Open your eyes Y/N! Please!” He sobbed.
“NO!” He nearly jumped out of his skin when someone lay a gloved hand on your shoulder, pulling you closer to his chest as his head whipped around. His eyes met the blue of Dicks domino mask. 
“What happened!” He asked, alerted by the sight of your bloody frame lying limp in his brother's arms.
“Another explosion. She-” Tim couldn’t speak. It was like his body had forgotten how to function. 
Dick nodded, grimacing slightly before calling to Jason over his shoulder. “Hood, call B. Get him to send emergency evac and tell him to prepare the medbay. 
He nodded, pailing at the sight of you. 
“Red, you need to let her go.” Dick told Tim.
“No.” He repeated. “No it’s my fault I can’t.”
“Timmy, we need to get her to help and we need to get you checked out too.”
He shook his head, clutching you closer.
“Robin.” 
Damian made his way over, lifting his brother's arms away from you and holding him back as Dick lifted you carefully to rush you back to the cave. 
~
You were still not awake. 
Two months had slowly dragged by and you were still lifeless. You didn’t move; not even a twitch of a hand. You just lay there, your chest rising and falling steadily. If Tim, who refused to leave your side most of the time, could get the image of your fragile body out of his head, he might have thought you were sleeping.
Most of your wounds had healed well and all of your stitches had been removed recently, but your skin was still scarred and littered with a few bandages to cover the nasty burns, but for the most part your body had healed. 
But then there were all of the tubes and the vigilantes honestly weren’t sure what was worse; seeing you covered in bandages, or seeing you hooked up to a network of tubes that were keeping you alive. Your IV rack sat next to your bed. They had moved you there not long after you had been treated. They knew how much you hated being in the hospital and Damian had insisted that they move you. He had even threatened to do it on his own if no one helped. 
Most days, they all took turns to watch over you, anticipating anything. Dreading the worst. Jason was by your side after forcing Tim to finally shower and catch some sleep, telling him that you wouldn’t want him to waste away like he was. But Tim couldn’t help it. Guilt was eating him up from the inside out. It didn’t take long for them to figure out the cause of the explosions. The Joker and Penguin had allegedly teamed up to kill Batman and the vigilantes. It was their plan all along to separate the five of you so that you were easier to take out, so when you and Tim regrouped they changed their plan and resorted to explosives and you had pushed him out of the way because he was too stupid to notice that there was something behind him and now you were unresponsive. His brothers had tried to tell him otherwise, but he was stubborn and spent all of his time sitting next to you. Dick practically had to drag him out of your room to get him to go to sleep. 
Jason was holding one of your hands and awkwardly flicking through a book with the other as he read to you. He tended to do that alot to pass the time and to bring some comfort. He honestly didn’t know if you could hear him or not but he read anyway. 
It was then that you groaned and he dropped the book in a second. Leaning closer to you he could see that you were scrunching your face up slightly, bringing your eyebrows downwards. 
“Little wing?” He whispered gently.
His heart leapt when he felt your fingers twitch ever so slightly under his and for a moment he thought that you were going to open your eyes but you stilled again. However after watching for a moment, Jason leapt out of his chair and ran downstairs to tell your family.
When he reached the cave, he was met by a very upset looking Tim and a frustrated Damian, who was trying to convince his older brother to go back to bed. 
“Why the hell aren’t you with her?!” Tim snapped “You can’t just leave her on her own-”
“She moved.”
~
You could hear voices but you couldn’t see. Everything was dark but you could hear the familiar tones of their voices murmuring across the room. You urged your eyes to open, but they felt like they were glued shut and then taped over. 
“Come on kid. You can do it.” You heard from somewhere.
You fought against yourself, willing for your eyes to open or for your body to move. And then your finger twitched. And then another. 
“Did you see that!?” Damian exclaimed, pointing to your hand.
You then managed to move your head ever so slightly to the left, eliciting many excited gasps as your brothers crowded round, willing for you to wake up. Ever since Jason had seen you first move you had been making quick progress in your recovery. Your body began to respond to their touch or to their voice, but you had never seemingly moved on your own until now. 
“Open your eyes, little wing. You can do it.” Tim. You knew without even seeing him. 
Tim. You realised suddenly. He was okay. 
And then you did it, you finally managed to crack your eyes open slightly only to be assaulted by the light. You blinked as you adjusted to it, the blurring figures in front of you finally coming into focus. 
“There she is.” Dick smiled. 
“Hey y/n/n.” Tim said. You noticed he was holding your hand and rubbing circles on the back of it with his thumb. 
You moved your mouth to try and speak, but you struggled to form the words. 
“Take your time.” Damian propted gently. 
You tried again, managing to push a hoarse whisper out with a little smile. “Hi.”
The five of your brothers lit up with the biggest smiles that had in forever as they fussed over you, helping to ease you up and to pull you into their embrace. Glad to have their little sister back with them again. 
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starryhyuck · 1 year
Text
closed doors. (m)
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pairing: meandom!mark + afab!reader
words: 5k+
summary: when your brother asks if a friend can stay in your spare bedroom, you don’t expect mark lee to show up on your doorstep.
genre: smut
warnings: mark is very mean, reader has slept around, oral sex, messy pussy eating, facefucking, degradation, creampie, squirting
“No. Absolutely not.”
“You agreed to it just a week ago!”
“Yeah, because I thought when you said friend you meant another girl! Not one of your slimy frat boys who plans to bring home a different side piece every night!”
Mark awkwardly clears his throat, each hand carrying two duffle bags. “I can find another place to stay, Jaehyun. It’s no big deal.”
Then, to his surprise, the both of you are quick to turn to him and scream “No!”
“My sister is just being selfish, Mark. Go and unpack your things in the spare room,” Jaehyun says through clenched teeth.
You’re no better — staring down your brother with the nastiest look you could muster. “On the contrary, my brother is the one being selfish by making his sister move in with a random stranger! Go unpack your things, Mark, so I can tell you all the little secrets Jaehyun doesn’t want his frat to know about.”
“Don’t even think about it. You know I have way more dirt on you than you have on me.”
“Really? You want to take that chance?”
Mark clears his throat again, his wrists aching from the weight of his bags.
“So should I go unpack?”
He’s surprised yet again when the siblings turn their heads to glare at him.
“Yes!”
And that’s how Mark Lee became your roommate.
When Jaehyun called you last week, he made it seem very simple. He mentioned how one of his friends needed a place to stay temporarily, as their apartment had been flooded and maintenance needed a couple of weeks to repair it. Since Minjeong had just moved out of your second bedroom to be with her boyfriend across town, you didn’t mind loaning the room for the time being to save on rent.
What Jaehyun didn’t tell you, however, was that the apartment that was flooded was actually his fraternity house and his friend who was displaced was actually Mark Lee. Mark was the only one without a significant other to stay with so your brother decided to throw him with you.
Mark didn’t know that much about you since Jaehyun always mentioned you were off-limits. Johnny tried to shoot his shot with you two years ago and it almost ended in a public fist-fight between him and Jaehyun on the fraternity’s front lawn.
Even though you two bickered constantly, Jaehyun hated the idea of his sister being used by one of his friends.
Mark guessed that Jaehyun didn’t know how many guys you actually brought home.
“Oh, sorry!”
It was only a few days into your temporary housing arrangement when Mark came home from class to find you straddling Donghyuck on the living room couch. Donghyuck’s hand was up your skirt and your eyes were a little watery, indicating that Donghyuck had clearly done a number on you before Mark walked in.
“D-Donghyuck?” Mark says in shock, surprised to see one of his best friends here.
“Fuck,” Donghyuck groans, pausing whatever his hands were doing underneath your skirt. “You’re such a fucking cockblock, Mark.”
Mark pauses at the sound of your whimper. You’re pawing at Donghyuck’s chest, lips pressed against his ear.
“More, Hyuck, please.”
“Um, I’ll come back later,” Mark shuffles awkwardly in the doorway.
“Yeah, you do that,” Donghyuck replies offhandedly, directing his attention back to you.
The last thing Mark hears when he closes his door is one of your pornographic moans.
Mark isn’t able to confront Donghyuck about it until they play basketball on the weekend. When he finally spots his fluffy haired friend, he aggressively bumps his shoulder.
“Bro, what the fuck were you doing with Jaehyun’s sister on Tuesday?”
Renjun’s interest peaked from his spot on the bench. He’s not very good at playing basketball, but he always joins regardless to listen to all the gossip Chenle and Donghyuck throw around.
“Jaehyun’s sister?” Renjun clarifies. “Oh, you’re so fucked.”
“Who’s fucking Jaehyun’s sister?” Chenle asks, jogging over once he sees Mark has arrived.
“Everyone calm your asses,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “Jaehyun doesn’t know and no one’s going to tell him. And if we’re being completely honest here, I’m not the only guy on her weekday list.”
Mark frowns. The only guy he’s seen you with over this past week has been Donghyuck.
And the menace himself can already sense what’s lingering in Mark’s head. “You know that whenever you play basketball with Chenle, she’s definitely fucking other guys in your apartment, right?” Donghyuck questions.
Mark’s brain temporarily short circuits at the information. That would mean you’re fucking someone right now.
“But Jaehyun-“
“Jaehyun doesn’t know. And he doesn’t need to. All her hookups are kept on a hush hush basis,” Donghyuck smirks, cocky at the fact that he gets to fuck you without your brother punching his face in. “And now that you’re her roommate, maybe you can add yourself into the mix.”
Chenle laughs at the idea. “Please. Mark would fuck her and immediately run to Jaehyun out of guilt. There’s no way.”
Mark bashfully scratches the back of his neck, not disagreeing with Chenle’s statement. “Plus, I don’t really see her that way.”
The comment makes all three men chuckle. Donghyuck places a hand on Mark’s shoulder, giving him a serious look.
“Mark, everyone sees her that way.”
Mark returns home to see you sitting on the couch, eating some trashy food and watching your favorite reality television show. You look completely exhausted, and Mark wonders if it’s because some other guy just fucked you.
“Hey,” he greets you, slipping his shoes off and throwing his backpack to the ground.
“Hey,” you reply, more interested in whatever’s happening on your show.
Mark awkwardly prepares a bowl of ramen for himself and takes a seat next to you on the couch. You’re wearing nothing but a thin camisole and a pair of sleep shorts, and he tries not to pay too close attention to the leftover cum smearing your thighs.
“What are we watching?” He asks, trying to start up some sort of conversation.
“Some mind numbing show. I need something to distract me since I got bad dick tonight.”
Mark swallows. He wasn’t expecting you to be so direct about it, or even tell him about your escapades when he leaves the apartment.
“Oh?” He tries to level his voice. “Sorry about that.”
You sigh. “It’s whatever. Guys think that just because I’m horny when I’m ovulating, I want to be some sort of cumdump for them.”
He wonders why you’re telling him all of this, but he lets you continue your rant regardless.
“I mean, yes, is it nice to get thrown around and used every once in a while? Sure. But that doesn’t mean you forget about me cumming too!” You groan, and Mark can tell how frustrated you are.
Donghyuck’s evil voice whispers in his ear and Mark can’t help but let the next words slip out of his mouth.
“I can help you if you still need it.”
You pause eating your burger and turn to him. It’s almost like you’re seeing him for the first time, eyes scanning him up and down and checking him out. Mark’s brain suddenly spirals, and he wonders if he’s crossed an invisible line. You’re probably not even into him, and now he has to go apologize to Jaehyun-
“Sure,” you shrug, setting your food down.
His wide eyes watch as you lay yourself down on the couch, shimmying your shorts to your ankles and flinging them across the room. Mark feels like time has completely stopped when he sees the wet patch in your underwear, some other guy’s cum spilling through the fabric.
“Sorry about the mess,” you apologize. “I was too lazy to clean myself up after he left.”
Mark sets his ramen bowl down on the coffee table, unsure of how to approach this situation. He didn’t even think you would agree to his offer.
“He didn’t help clean you up?”
You giggle. “Aw, it’s cute that you think other guys do that.”
He ignores the fact that the tip of his ears are probably blooming red, adjusting the rising stiffness of his cock in his small basketball shorts. He positions himself until he’s face to face with your lace panties, thumb curiously padding over your folds.
“Mm,” you whimper needily, hips bucking themselves upwards. “Don’t tease, Mark.”
He couldn’t help but start sucking you over your underwear, his tongue catching a mix of leftover cum and your wetness. He hears your breathy giggle and your hands tangle through his hair.
“You’re nasty,” you remark. He peers up at you briefly to see your cloudy eyes.
He makes a show of slowly rolling your panties down, cock twitching at the sight of your ruined pussy.
“You’re really swollen,” he comments, fingers pushing your folds apart gently.
You hold back a moan. “Yeah, he did a real number on me. You said you can make me feel better though, can’t you?”
Mark answers by sloppily kissing your cunt, tongue prodding your entrance. His nose presses against your clit and you whine loudly. He doesn’t even need any more guidance from you, delving into your pussy and eating you like a man starved. He starts off by sucking your folds gently, mindful of how the last guy who fucked you probably didn’t prep you at all. When he hears your pitiful moans, however, and your chants of more, more, more, he becomes more desperate.
“Shit,” you gasp. You’ve never had a guy eat you out this good before, and you’re genuinely surprised by how fast you’re reaching your high. “Oh, fuck.”
You panic a little at the familiar tension building in your stomach, and Mark groans when you try to push him away.
“Wait, Mark, I’m going to-“
You collapse into a series of moans when your orgasm hits, your brain turning fuzzy. The only thing you hear is the filthy squelch of your juices and Mark eagerly slurping up your high.
He pulls away and watches as you slowly realize you’ve squirted everywhere. You groan and shut your eyes tightly.
“Sorry about that. It happens sometimes.”
He tilts his head, confused. “Why are you apologizing? That was so fucking hot.”
You giggle and open your eyes again, meeting his lust-filled gaze.
“Really? A lot of guys usually hate it because of how messy it is.”
“They’re idiots.”
You smile, tugging him upwards so you can kiss him. “Maybe you deserve a little treat for making me feel that good,” you whisper, palming him over his shorts.
Mark is about to strip so he can take you on the couch, but stops when he hears a knock at the door.
His body completely freezes when he opens it to see Jaehyun on the other side. The older male raises an eyebrow.
“Dude, did you forget I was coming over to work on our project?”
Before Mark can protest Jaehyun coming in, the man is pushing past him. Mark quickly tries to think of any excuse for why you would be half-naked on the couch, but before he could start frantically explaining himself, he’s surprised to see you’ve somehow located your shorts and slipped them back on. You also knocked over a bottle of water on the couch to make it seem like the remnants of your orgasm was just an accidental spill.
You roll your eyes at the sight of your brother, pushing past him to go into your room.
“Looks like you dragged the trash in, Mark.”
Jaehyun hisses lowly when your bedroom door shuts.
“Devil. I hope she’s not corrupting you.”
Mark swallows, pushing away all thoughts of fucking you to try and get his erection to lower.
“Nope. Definitely not.”
Mark avoids you for the next couple of days. The maintenance at the fraternity said the guys could move back in next week, and Mark’s current plan was to avoid you as much as possible until move out day.
He was slightly successful, but also a little hurt since you didn’t seem to care that he was avoiding your presence. You carried on like nothing happened, and Mark saw you walking around campus with a different guy almost every day.
It isn’t until Donghyuck confronts him that he finds out the truth.
“What the fuck did you do?”
Mark’s never seen Donghyuck so frustrated, hair sticking up in different directions and clothing being inside out. Mark innocently continues to dribble the basketball, looking at Chenle for help. His friend stands on the other side of the court, shrugging in response.
“Uh, what are you talking about?”
Donghyuck pushes him aggressively. “You know what I’m talking about! She won’t fuck any of us!”
Mark is more confused than ever and Donghyuck throws his hands up. “You’re a fucking idiot,” Donghyuck murmurs under his breath. “I’m talking about your little roommate! She canceled all of her hookups this week, including me, Jeno, Jaemin, and Yangyang. I want a fucking explanation, Mark, for why I wasn’t able to get good pussy today.”
Mark shrugs. “How am I supposed to know?”
Chenle comes over when he realizes no one’s planning on throwing the ball to him anytime soon. “Hyuck, she probably got a boyfriend. Leave Mark alone.”
“No no no,” Donghyuck chuckles like an evil villain. “She doesn’t do that dating shit. She’s either getting really good dick or Jaehyun found out. So I’m going to ask once again — what the fuck did you do, Mark?”
“I didn’t say anything,” Mark puts his hands up innocently. “Otherwise I’d get in trouble too.”
The statement makes Donghyuck and Chenle stop in their tracks.
“No way.”
“You?!”
Mark winces at how loud Donghyuck’s voice can echo.
“You?” Donghyuck repeats in shock. “No way. She canceled on us to fuck you?”
“We haven’t fucked,” Mark clarified. “I just ate her out last week because she wasn’t feeling good and I was going to fuck her until Jaehyun came over. We haven’t done anything since then.”
Donghyuck strokes his chin like he’s trying to solve a mystery.
“How did she cum?”
“Huh?”
“Did she pretend to cum? Did you feel her actually cum? Did you use a vibrator? Did you use your fingers?”
Chenle gags. “This is the worst conversation I’ve ever heard.”
Mark awkwardly clears his throat. “I just used my mouth. And she squirted.”
Donghyuck completely freezes and Chenle waves a hand over his face.
“Dude, I think you broke him,” Chenle mutters.
Mark squeaks when Donghyuck suddenly tackles him, the younger boy pinning him down and glaring at him.
“What the fuck?” Mark exclaims, trying to push Donghyuck away from him.
“You’re lying,” Donghyuck growls. “You have to be. There’s no way you made her squirt.”
“What’s the big deal? She said she’s done it before,” Mark says, still failing at getting Donghyuck off of him. He ignores Chenle’s laughs at his predicament.
“Yeah, by herself! No guy’s ever made her squirt before. Trust me, me and Jeno have tried many times. Separately and together.”
Mark ignores the fact that Donghyuck just admitted to having regular threesomes with Jeno.
“But she told me-“
“She lied. So clearly she stopped fucking us to get with you. This is so humiliating for me.”
Mark sees a flash of a camera and Chenle’s giggle.
“And now we have it documented.”
He hears the soft padding of footsteps before Renjun approaches, taking in the sight of Donghyuck pinning Mark down on the floor of the basketball court.
“Um, what did I miss?”
“Oh, Renjun, you won’t believe this but-“
“Zhong Chenle!” Donghyuck finally peels himself away from Mark to chase Chenle around the court, preventing him from telling Renjun about how you rejected Donghyuck for Mark.
Mark’s head is still spinning from the information when he sees Renjun’s head pop into his vision above him.
“You look sick. You should go home, dude.”
Mark followed Renjun’s advice and got out of the court as fast as possible. He dismissed Donghyuck’s insistent protests for an explanation on how he made you squirt.
When he arrives home, he’s surprised to see you cooking ramen on the stove. He’s even more surprised to see you wearing nothing but his shirt and a tiny pair of panties peeking out from the bottom. You turn slightly to see him, smiling when he walks through the door.
“Welcome home!”
He tries to ignore how his cock twitches at your words.
“Um, thanks. What are you making?”
He drifts into the kitchen, ignoring the voice in his head that’s telling him to go to his room and lock the door.
“Just some ramen,” you hum. “Wanted a quick snack.”
“Ah,” he nods. “I actually just came back from seeing Donghyuck.”
“Oh?” You say, not sounding surprised in the slightest by the information. “Did he say anything?”
Mark can tell you’re playing a game with him, and he’s not sure if he wants to bite. “He just mentioned how he hasn’t seen you lately.”
You laugh. “I’m sure Donghyuck was more colorful than that. He isn’t exactly careful with his words.”
Mark nervously swallows. “Well, he said that you haven’t really seen anyone since last week.”
You hum. “Interesting. I wonder why that is.”
You shoot him a small smile, and Mark recognizes the mischievous glint in your eye. You reach for some spices on the top shelf of your cabinet, and he gets an eyeful of your ass.
You gasp when you feel Mark press against your back, and you watch as he turns off the stove.
“Why are you teasing me?” He breathily asks in your ear, fingers gripping your hips tightly.
“Am I?”
He can hear the smirk in your voice. “How did you get my shirt, you little minx?”
You giggle, grabbing his hand and guiding it to your core.
“I did a little snooping in your room. You’re such a slob,” you say, remembering all the stray chip bags and old t-shirts Mark has lying around.
“Sorry,” he apologizes as he cups your mound, and he groans when he feels how wet you are. “This is supposed to be a temporary thing, remember? I don’t exactly have to keep everything in tip top shape.”
Your folds are practically spilling out of your underwear. “Don’t you think these panties are too small for you?” He asks, rubbing your clit gently. You whimper and buck your hips up into his hand. “It’s no better than not wearing them at all.”
“I thought you liked seeing my pussy,” you hum, leaning back on him. “You sure liked it when you ate me out last week.”
Mark is quick to move your underwear to the side, inserting a finger into your cunt without warning. You moan loudly and grip onto his arms.
“About that, Donghyuck told me something interesting,” he mentions, focusing on how tight you feel around his finger. “He said no guy’s ever made you squirt before.”
You’re pretty desperate for him at this point, so you barely register what he’s saying in favor of trying to get him to push more of his fingers into you.
“Uh huh.”
He chuckles and the sound shoots straight to your core. He grants your wish and pushes two more fingers into your weeping hole, basking in how he stretches you open. Your mind turns into mush once he starts pumping them in and out of you, scissoring and rubbing against your sweet spot. You wonder how he’s managed to learn your body so quickly.
“It really grabbed my attention when he said that because I was under the impression that someone’s done that to you before.”
Your whimpers turn into cries when his thumb starts to circle your clit, and you struggle to respond to him.
“J-Just my fingers. Not a-anyone else,” you mindlessly say.
“You’re so fucking desperate,” Mark hisses meanly, nipping at your ear. He has to admit that his conversation with Donghyuck has given him a major ego boost. “So what? You fuck every guy on campus to try and get close to the pleasure I gave you? But they’re not me, are they? That’s why you stopped going to them.”
“Mark,” you cry when he removes himself from you, slapping your ass roughly.
“Get on the counter.”
You quickly obey, legs wobbling slightly as you prop yourself up on the kitchen counter. Mark is fast to drop to his knees, spreading your legs apart and diving into your cunt.
“Fuck,” you whimper when you feel Mark’s tongue lapping at your wetness.
He keeps his eyes on you when he sucks your clit, slipping two fingers in your entrance. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your whole upper half collapsing on top of the island.
Mark’s gaze follows you, learning what you like and what your body really reacts to. Every time he curls his fingers upwards, you shake a little and your moans grow louder.
“S-Shit,” you gasp, struggling to breathe. “How are you so fucking good at this?”
That tension is building in your stomach again, even faster than the first time. You can tell Mark is expecting it, opening his mouth wider and sucking you harder. He revels in the sound of your loud cries, begging him for more and desperately asking to cum.
“Please, please, please-“ you plead, pushing Mark deeper into your cunt.
He pulls back briefly to direct you. “Squirt for me, baby. Show me how I’m better than everyone else.”
When he grazes your clit with his teeth, you fall off the edge. Mark eagerly fingers you while your juices spill on the kitchen floor, his cock straining in his shorts.
Before you can regain your senses, you find yourself being turned around, and your feet hit the kitchen tile.
“Mmf,” you mumble blearily, your vision blurry.
He shushes you, hands exploring your ass as he pulls your underwear down. “It’s alright, baby. I got you.” You feel the tip of his cock prod your entrance and you whimper, pushing yourself back on him subconsciously.
“Please- I want-“
“I know, I know,” Mark assures you, voice sounding slightly smug. “You want my cock, don’t you? Dripping for it, acting like a whore just to get it.”
Your cheek presses against the counter, mind empty and thinking of nothing but Mark’s cock. When he finally eases himself into your cunt, you swear you see heaven.
“Shit, baby, you’re soaking. Makes it so easy for me to slide in,” he mumbles, watching as he easily disappears into you.
“M-More, more-“ you plead, reaching behind yourself in an attempt to get him to bottom out.
When he finally does, he’s laughing condescendingly in your ear. He brushes your hair away from your face when he thrusts in the first time so he can see how you fall apart.
“You’re so fucking easy,” he snickers, and you’re amazed by how you unlocked such an evil side to Mark Lee. “No wonder all the guys pass you around like a new toy.”
It’s embarrassing how fast you reach your second orgasm. You scream and shudder when your body snaps. He shows no signs of stopping either, railing you through your high. You reach the point where you can’t tell if you’re begging him to stop or to fuck you until you pass out.
And Mark has no idea where this burst of confidence comes from, but he finds himself pulling out of you and tucking himself back into his shorts.
“What-“ you whisper, suddenly feeling empty. “Where are you going?”
“Clearly, a brat like you only cares about her own pleasure. I guess I should find someone else to take care of me.”
You begin to panic even though Mark has no intentions of actually leaving. “Wait- Wait, no-“ you desperately cry, legs shaking as you try to stop him. You immediately sink to your knees, hands gripping his thighs. “I can take care of you.”
Mark scoffs, eyes challenging you. “I doubt it. Look at yourself — kneeling in a puddle of your own filth, thinking you can suck my cock and be decently good at it. I’m not like Donghyuck, you know. I don’t cum easily.”
“I don’t want Donghyuck,” you sob in despair. If he’s surprised by the sudden tears running down your face, he makes no show of it. “I want you! Please, I’m sorry I was so selfish. I won’t be like that ever again.”
He runs a finger down your face before cupping your cheeks harshly.
“Then tell me I’m the only one who gets to fuck you from now on. No one else.”
You don’t skip a beat. “Just you. I’ll only fuck you from now on, I promise.”
“Show me.”
You quickly take his cock out, angrily red and leaking from the tip. You gasp when Mark grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs cruelly. You get the message, opening your mouth wide and loosening your jaw.
He has absolutely no mercy on you, shoving his cock far down your throat. He ignores your gagging, saliva dripping from the sides of your lips. He begins a brutal pace in face fucking you, his cock consistently hitting the back of your windpipe.
Venom drips from his voice. “I want you like this from now on. Ready on your knees as soon as I walk through that door. Understood?”
You try to nod but it only comes out as a mix of garbles and choked noises. He finally grants you mercy and allows you to breathe for a few seconds.
You wheeze, coughing and sputtering. Mark decides it’s enough recovery time for you, however, pushing you up against one of the kitchen cabinets on the floor. He completely folds you in half, throwing your legs over his shoulders and lining himself up to your entrance once more.
“Beg for it.”
“Please fuck me!” You cry, not caring how pathetic you sound. “I promise I’ll be good. I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll be a good girl. Please!”
“And?” He says, leaning closer to you with a waiting gaze.
“And you’re the only one I’ll be with from now on! I promise!”
Mark ignores that his knees are soaked in your juices from earlier and that he’ll probably get bruises from the kitchen tile. He fucks you at a brutal pace, slamming your head into the wooden cabinets over and over at the force of his thrusts. Your neck aches but he makes you watch him pound into you, his cock abusing your pussy as he likes.
“If you’re nice, I’ll let you cum again,” he hisses, balls slapping against your ass lewdly. “If I think you’re being a brat again, I’ll make you lick your cum off the floor.”
“G-Good, I’m g-g-good,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent sentence. “Good girl!”
He chuckles. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
He leans over you and you take the hint, opening your mouth and allowing him to spit on your tongue. You swallow eagerly, showing him how you obey him.
“You’re such a perfect little doll, aren’t you?” He snickers, your wetness starting to form a creamy ring around the base of his cock. You can’t tell if he wants you to answer, but you’re too fucked out to reply anyways. “When Jaehyun told me to come live with his sister for a few weeks, I never thought you’d be such a campus whore. He always talked about you like no one’s ever even allowed to speak to you. Guess he’ll never know how most of his friends have already spitroasted you, huh?”
“I-I need-“ you whimper, failing to come up with what you want to say.
“Aw, baby wants to come?”
You nod, hoping he’ll grant you permission. He smiles as he stares at you, fully cockdrunk and wanting more. He knows he has you in the palm of his hand now.
“Go ahead.”
When he feels you tighten around him, Mark goes with you, ropes of his cum shooting deep into your cunt. There’s so much of it that it spills out of your folds.
When you come down from your high, you pay no attention to the searing pain in your neck. You look up at Mark with wide eyes.
“Are we together now?”
He still feels a little mean, so he pushes you a little more. “Donghyuck said you don’t do the dating shit.”
“B-But I want to be with you,” you say softly, looking like you’re going to cry again if Mark rejects you.
He takes pity on you, lifting up your chin and kissing you gently.
“Alright. But you have to protect me from Jaehyun.”
You giggle and nod.
When the frat house is finally repaired, you show up to help Mark move in, hand intertwined with his. Every single fraternity member stops at the sight of you in the doorway, jaws open.
“You’re so fucked,” Johnny laughs, getting out his phone to film Jaehyun’s reaction.
Your brother comes into sight, carrying one of the moving boxes in his hands. He immediately drops it at the sight of you two, his eyes locked in on your joined hands.
“You look like trash,” you laugh at the sight of Jaehyun’s hair sticking up in multiple directions.
Mark swallows when Jaehyun angrily stomps over to the two of you. Mark internally prepares himself to get his ass beaten by Jaehyun, but he’s shocked when instead of fighting him, Jaehyun drops a hand to Mark’s shoulder, frowning.
“I’m so sorry, Mark. You’re one of the good ones and I failed to save you from the pits of hell. Instead, I led you directly into her arms and for that, I’ll be eternally apologetic.”
“Oh, you stupid fucker!” You scream, grabbing your sibling by the ear and pulling him outside.
Mark watches as you and Jaehyun throw hands on the front lawn, spitting insults at each other. Johnny comes up next to him and sighs.
“You’re such a lucky bastard.”
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