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shoddynomenclature · 6 months

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End of the Day Bath Time with the Women of BG3 (18+)

Headcannons about our favorite ladies: Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Karlach, Minthara, and Jaheria.

18+ for suggestive content.

After a long day of battle, you return to the Elfsong Tavern. You are, as usual, covered in blood and sweat. You will most certainly need a bath before you go to sleep tonight. Luckily, staying at the Elfsong means bathing no longer consists of a quick rinse in whatever river you can find. You have a nice big tub and your beloved waiting for you.

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Shadowheart

Shadowheart is sat naked in front of mirror across the room, undoing her hair and brushing it out.

She’s adorned the tub with candles and incense. It doesn’t look terribly dissimilar to her alter.

You approach the tub, but it’s empty. “Shadowheart, when you get a moment do you think you could…” You’re interrupted by the water from her spell dropping down on top of your head and into the tub.

You squeal and nearly jump out of the tub. The water is freezing. You look up at Shadowheart as a mischievous smirk paints her face.

“Quit your whining,” she teases. “I’ll be over there in a moment to warm you up.”

Once she is satisfied with her hair, she approaches the tub. She eases her body in on the opposite side of where you’re sitting. She cast a spell that causes her hands to glow orange. As she places her hands under the water, heat spreads across the bath.

“Better?” She teases, leaning forward to climb on top of you.

“You could’ve warmed the water before you dropped it on my head,” you retort.

“True, but” She softly drags a hand over your bare chest. The water doesn’t quite reach that high. She gently pinches a nipple, still very hard from the shock of the cool water. “Then I couldn’t do this.” She dips her head, taking the nipple into her mouth and warming it with her tongue.

Your breath catches and you lean your head back over the edge of the tub, pushing your body against hers. “There are other ways to make them hard.” You breathe.

“I know,” she says casually. “And we’ll get to those momentarily. But this was the most fun.”

Lae’zel

Lae’zel prefers to make her baths quick. Efficient. The less time she has to spend in the water the better.

You’re already in the bath by the time she walks in the room, wringing out your freshly washed hair.

She pads over to the edge of the tub, kneeling outside of it, using it as a basin to wash off her face.

When she raises her head with her clean face you smile softly.

Lae’zel is always wearing a generous 5 pounds of makeup. It’s her war paint, making her look serious and threatening, and it does its job.

But now she stands before you, bare faced, and you see a different side of her entirely.

The war paint doesn’t make her look old by any means, but now that it’s gone you can really see her age. She really is only 21 years old.

Her eyes are rounded and almost soft. You see nothing of the pointed harshness she presents everyday.

Lae’zel proceeds to quickly undo her hair, once again using the tub as a basin to wash it rather than getting in the water.

When she’s done, she finally steps tentatively in the water. She allows you to scrub her back while she washes the rest of her body.

You dare to press a kiss onto her shoulder, causing her to pause her frantic scrubbing for only a moment before she starts again. She decides to let it slide… this time.

When she decides she’s clean enough, she nearly vaults out of the tub.

She is happy to sit next to you while you bathe, but she will not spend a moment longer than necessary in that Vlaakith forsaken water.

Karlach

Karlach is 100% sitting Geralt of Rivia style in the tub when you come in. (Does anyone have art of this?? I need it now)

She got a side table next to her right hand. On it sits a large mug of cold beer she bought downstairs. She’s intermittently taking swigs of the ice cold beverage to counteract the heat of the steamy water she’s emerged in.

The water is SO warm, but not too hot. Since the engine cool down Karlach can manage to not boil the water she’s in.

You slink in the water between her legs and lay on her chest, wrapping your arms around her back.

She smiles at you. “Isn’t life just amazing?” She asks. “A warm bath, a cold drink, and the person I love. Doesn’t get much better than this.”

She’s still mostly dirty by this point. It doesn’t look like she’d done any actual bathing before you arrived. Her hair is not even wet yet and dried blood still flecks her cheeks.

You wet a rag and begin to gently wash it off. She squirms like an uncooperative toddler.

You stop for a moment, holding the cloth away from her face. “Behave and I’ll work on this next,” you say, reaching your other hand between her legs and cupping her sex.

Her breath catches and she frantically nods.

She’ll stay still. She swears.

Minthara

Minthara isn’t one for being wet, but she can still enjoy at least parts of a bath.

When you come in the room, it’s dark, the only light is the soft glow emitted by the candles around the tub.

The water is very hot, almost too hot. You ease your body in slow, giving yourself time to adjust.

The water smells like lavender and sandalwood. She put some oils and flower pedals and a little bit of poison in it.

Minthara steps towards the tub, allowing you to take in her naked body in the soft candle light. Her hair is still up.

She climbs in the bath, straddling your waist so her torso is barely in the water at all.

She grabs some soap and a knife from a nearby table. If you grow any facial hair at all, she shaves it off. Otherwise she’s getting rid of any other unwanted hairs: making sure your eyebrows and temples are perfectly manicured. If you allow her to shave your chest, she’ll do that too.

You predict it’s less about the hair and more about the trust it takes to let her drag a knife against your skin. She relishes in the vulnerabilities only she is privy to.

When she’s done, she props herself up on the side of the tub and watches you bath. She doesn’t get in the water herself until after you get out.

Some nights she’ll let you wash her hair yourself, but for the most part the bath is a relatively quick endeavor.

Jaheira

Jaheira is already cleaned, dried, and in her robe by the time you arrive. She usually bypasses the evening chitchat with everyone in favor of some extra time to herself.

The bath water is full of several different herbs she’s picked along the journey.

They’re different everyday, but today there appears to be a lot of mint? Or maybe something else. You’re not terribly well versed in plants.

“If I trusted you any less, I’d think you had very different intentions throwing me in this stew,” You tease.

“I’m not Asterion.” She retorts, “Though I suppose I’m not a stranger to ravishing you.”

You blush and step into the water. Jaheira pulls over a chair and sits above your head.

She mostly just spends the time reading, letting you do your own thing. She does love to wash your hair though.

[Tiefling] She takes a stiff brush to your horns every once in a while. It drives you crazy, but she tells you to stop your whining and sit still. At the end you’re actually surprised how much dirt comes out. Guess you’ve never really paid attention to cleaning them so throughly.

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doumadono · 1 year

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Senne koszmary - Urogi x Reader

Warnings: smut w/o plot, dirty talk, vaginal sex, somnphilia Synpsis: the vividness of your nightmares made them seem more than mere figments of your imagination, and eventually, you obtained the proof that confirmed your suspicions Requested by: @crystalwolfblog - kocham cię mocno, złośnico ♥ Oby ten ficzek przypadł Ci do gustu

MASTERLIST

You had been experiencing a persistent issue with unsettling nightmares that plagued you night after night. They were vivid and often disturbing, leaving you feeling fatigued and anxious during the day. You had tried various methods to alleviate this distressing problem, including altering your sleep habits and seeking professional assistance, but to no avail. The recurring nightmares continued to intrude upon your restful slumber, hindering your ability to obtain the peaceful respite that your mind and body so desperately needed. There was one particular nightmare that haunted you incessantly, in which you found yourself face-to-face with a demon of immense proportions. This demonic entity possessed large bird-like wings that towered above you, casting a dark shadow over your trembling body. Its sharp talons, protruding from its monstrous hands, glistened menacingly in the dim light of the nightmare. The demon's massive claws, terminating its grotesque legs, dug deep into the ground, leaving deep imprints that seemed to seal your fate.

As you stood before the demon in your nightmare, his presence looming over you with his large bird-like wings and sharp talons, he introduced himself as Urogi. His voice was deep and gravelly, sending shivers down your spine as he spoke. You tried to wake up from the nightmare, but you were trapped in the darkness of your subconscious, unable to escape the terrifying encounter with this monstrous creature. Every night was plagued by the same harrowing dream, with the demonic figure of Urogi relentlessly haunting your slumber. His intimidating form, with large bird-like wings, razor-sharp talons on his hands, and massive claws ending his legs, loomed over you, filling you with an overwhelming sense of dread. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't shake the nightmarish vision from your mind, and it continued to torment you night after night.

You had already been having a hard time falling asleep that night and you woke, maybe an hour or so after falling asleep, to the feeling of someone sliding under your sheets.

At first, you were confused and groggy. You didn't have anyone over so you had no idea who was crawling between your legs. You figured you were just having a really vivid dream as you felt a thick, sharp talon pulling the hems of your kimono up your figure. The creature held it back and pushed your legs apart.

You were beginning to actually wake up, soft yet shrill humming playing in your ears but you weren't able to pay attention to it. You didn't dare move, but the more it all sunk in and you realized what was happening your stomach dropped. And your pussy instantly grew hot and wet, involuntary. The sensation that overcame you was one of peculiar yet pleasing nature, compelling you to heed its beckoning and venture forth into the unknown.

"You're nice and wet for me tonight, Y/N," you heard a deep, male voice whisper, a loud chuckle followed. It was a confirmation that one - it was that demon, again, and two - he had done this enough to be confident sufficiently to dirty talk to you. It was so messed up and gross because he was fucking revolting, yet tempting in some strange way. The fact that the feeling of his forever sharp talons finally starting to rub your throbbing clit made intense pleasure run through your body made you want to throw up. It was an odd sensation, one that you knew you shouldn't indulge in. The forbidden feeling lingered, tempting you to follow its path. Despite your reservations, you eventually succumbed to its allure and gave in to your curiosity.

It wasn't long before the demon buried two taloned fingers in your pussy while he stopped his thumb on your clitoris, brushing it ever so gently. Soon, you felt something incredibly wet on your exposed pussy. The saliva oozed out of the demon's mouth in a thick and slimy consistency, dripping down onto your sex with a wet plop. It was warm and you hated it but you also fucking loved it at the same time. You were actually enjoying the fact that you didn't have to do anything but lay there, pretending to be sleeping. In seconds he was sucking on your clit with his wet, hot mouth, flattening his tongue to press it tightly against your slit. You couldn't stop the moan that abruptly slipped out of you, sure that you had blown your cover, but Urogi just chuckled and started flicking your clit with his tongue. "How is such a quiet human a loud sleeper?" He asked as if he expected an answer. You just laid there, letting yourself move or breathe hard as much as you needed at such a relaxed state. You never had your pussy eaten like that. At least not awake. He made sure your whole pussy was soaked with juices and his spit. As he licked your pussy, his taloned hand traveled up under your kimono, and he started groping your tit. "Fuck," he groaned against your sensative folds, rough lips and hot breath keeping you horribly stimulated. You literally heard when his thick fingers sunk back inside your aching cunt, slick being forced out to make room as he started back up thrusting them inside. "Gonna make my little human toy moan for me. But you won't remember, will you?" The longer he spoke the rougher he fingered you. Then he got right back to using his mouth while he loudly attacked your pussy, curving his taloned fingers so he was able to rub at your squishy spot, and you were afraid you were going to have to give up on my act to beg him to just fuck you already.

You didn't want him to stop, as much as you fucking hated yourself for it, so you just kept letting it happen and, apparently, were good enough at pretending to be asleep to fool your horny late night visitor. It was astonishing in the worst way possible. Your body was completely moving on its own as it stiffened and your hips rolled against his face and talons to get through the shocking orgasm that washed over you in warm, electrified waves as a moan escaped your parted lips. As soon as you began to relax again, Urogi slapped your pussy a few times. Some slaps were soft, some harder. All of it made the wettest and most obscene sounds you have ever heard.

You thought this was all he was going to do - to play with your needy pussy, using it to pleasure himself, but then you felt him stop and he moved up your body, only settling once he fully pinned you down, rolling you to your tummy less than gently.

"Never seen a woman so fucking messy," he grumbled.

You were in a trance until you felt a heavy, hard cock start to poke the back of your thigh. You felt it all and it was impressive. Your mouth drooled as you licked your lips, and your cunt appeared to ooze more of your desire.

"You belong to me, you gorgeous, little slut!" Urogi chortled in a manner that can only be described as mischievous, his deep and rich laughter reverberating through the air. His eyes, which glinted with a devilish mirth, crinkled at the corners as he chuckled, thoroughly enjoying whatever he found amusing in that moment. His lips parted, revealing a set of sharp canines that seemed to gleam in the light, while his chest rumbled with each guffaw, giving the impression that the very ground itself was shaking beneath him. "You have some gorgeous cunt, little woman." Urogi's corpulent dick plunged deep and sure into your core, causing you to respond in the expected manner - a protracted, resounding, and ecstatic ululation emanated from the depths of your chest and reverberated into the nocturnal stillness, while his sturdy hand encircled the back of your neck, fiercely immobilizing you onto the cushion below. "You're my fucking bitch!" Urogi swore and his other hand gripped the curve of your waist, talons digging into your softness still covered with the kimono as he drove himself deeper and deeper. His stiff girht spread your silken tightness wide until he was seated fully inside. The tip of his cock, red and oozing precum, had carved the way and buried against the entrance to your womb. "Taking demon's cock so well," he crooned and stroked your flank. "Such a good, little hooch!" With agonizing slowness, he retracted his cock, deliberately dragging the girthy length over every contour and swell of your insatiable hole until the tip hung on the brink of liberation once more.

You trembled, anticipating, whining and whimpering. You were willing to wait for Urogi as long as he desired. You knew that he wouldn't leave you unsatisfied.

When he inevitably thrust back in, your mortal body accepted him eagerly and ravenously. The anticipation amplified the sweet release, making the pleasure more ecstatic. With a sudden jolt, his hips drove forward, plunging deep into your core. The movements were rhythmic and unrelenting, a constant in-and-out motion that left you gasping for breath. Urogi found his pace, and soon, you were both moving in unison, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Your body responded eagerly to his touch, quivering with each thrust. His movements played you like an instrument, the pleasure building with each stroke. You couldn't help but push back against him, your hips meeting his in a desperate dance. The sensation was overwhelming, your body rippling and pulsing with each thrust. Together, you worked to bring each other to the brink of pleasure, his body and yours moving in perfect harmony. It was a private concert, a symphony of passion that left you both breathless and sated.

As seconds ticked by, Urogi let out a bellowing groan and spilled his sticky and opaque seed deep into your womb, marking you as his own. "Fuck!"

Your mouth hung open in ecstasy and you teetered on the edge before tumbling over the brink to a glorious climax. Your body convulsed as your cunt released a stream of honey salt over your quivering thighs and the sheets of the bed. "Ah, Urogi!"

Urogi chuckled, releasing his grip on your nape and trailing his taloned hand down your spine, which was still covered by your kimono. The alate demon leaned in close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you that you weren't truly asleep," he grunted in a low, gravelly voice. "But I couldn't resist the temptation to come to you, to feel your body beneath mine, to claim you as mine. Again."

As you lay there with Urogi's hand still tracing down your spine, you summoned the courage to speak up. "I knew you've been doing this before. I was sure that these weren't just dreams. They felt too real, too vivid to be mere figments of my imagination…"

Urogi chuckled, his breath fanning the back of your neck. "Of course I have," he concluded.

You shivered as his talons grazed over your lower back, sending a ripple of pleasure down your body. "Why me?" You asked, genuinely curious.

Urogi leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "It's the way you submit to me," he whispered. "The way you give yourself completely to my pleasure. No one else has ever done that before."

#urogi #urogi smut #kny urogi #urogi x reader #urogi x you #kny smut #kny x reader #my writing #hantengu clones #demon slayer smut #upper moon four #upper moon 4 #kimetsu no yaiba x you #female reader #urogi fic #kny fiction #request completed

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wlntrsldler · 2 months

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poisoned mercury | close as strangers (post chb)

a/n: okayyyy so i didn't give them an angst ending but i had to give into the angst monster at least once for this series so here's a bonus chapter for poisoned mercury. miscommunication galore. long distance is hard! two dumbasses in love!

song: close as strangers by 5sos

series masterlist | previous | next

"i'll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?" luke whispered, trying not to wake his bandmates up. the tour bus was large enough to house them while they were on the road, but it didn't really give the privacy he hoped for. chris was just across the narrow walkway from him and luke could hear his soft snores through the thin curtain that separated them.

luke felt his heart hammering in his chest when you didn't reply to him. he could still hear your breaths through the phone and you were just talking to him a second ago, so he knew you were still awake. you both had equally busy lives which meant that your phone calls were getting shorter and shorter each day. luke knew it was because you were booked with school and tournaments for field hockey and he was always exhausted after each meeting now that the band was working on their second album. luke knew all of this, but it didn't stop him from missing you. he was lucky to get a ten-minute call with you nowadays.

"baby?" he tried again, chewing on his bottom lip. he turned to face the ceiling of his bunk, the light from his phone casting a shadow on his face as he waited for you to say something. anything. "can i call you tomorrow?"

you sighed, "i don't know, luke. i have a busy day. it's a travel game tomorrow so i don't know if i'll be up late."

"oh," he cleared his throat, trying to hide his disappointment. he felt a little stupid that there were tears pooling in his eyes. so you can't talk tomorrow, it shouldn't be a big deal, right? except that luke felt like you were pulling away from him. little by little. and he didn't know how to stop it. it wasn't like he could drop everything to show up at your doorstep and fix things with you. if it was up to him, he would do it in a heartbeat, but you'd probably get mad at him for it, for abandoning his responsibilities as the lead singer of the most popular band in the world. not to mention the boys would be livid and mr. d and his mom would be equally furious.

"sorry, maybe next week?"

"yeah, sure," he replied, thankful that you weren't on facetime tonight. he didn't want you to see his face. "alright, i'll let you get some rest. go kill it tomorrow. g'night, five star."

"goodnight," you said, ending the call as soon as the last syllable left your lips.

luke groaned quietly, tossing his phone on the foot of his bed. he knew long distance was going to be difficult. it's been months since he last saw you, months since he was at camp half blood, sleeping in your bed and waking up to the feeling of your lips peppering kisses on his face. maybe he shouldn't have gotten so attached so fast, but it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter.

he got out from his bunk, tucking his feet into his slippers and made his way to the living room area of the bus. he sat on the couch, peering out the window to watch the empty roads ahead. they were on their way to nashville to meet with a producer that mr. d recommended. the second album was almost done, but it was missing something and none of them wanted to put out a record that didn't meet their expectations.

mr. d was already in tennessee waiting for them. he'd flown in from houston a few days ago with luke's mom and the rest of the poisoned mercury team while the boys were in atlanta for a movie premiere. they decided that a road trip was needed to de-stress after the glitz and buzz of the red carpet. it was nice to have some alone time with the boys. in their tour bus, luke felt like they were back in connecticut, just four friends fucking around, writing music, and eating junk food until their stomachs hurt.

he turned on the tv, switching to some random channel that he wasn't paying attention to. he just needed some noise to drown out his thoughts, but that didn't seem to work. all he could think of was you, his five star, and how much he missed you. luke wondered if you were having second thoughts about this whole thing. maybe he'd been too optimistic about things; maybe you weren't on the same page as he was; maybe you realized that it was too difficult to be with him.

a shiver ran down his spine as he spiraled into his thoughts. admitting to himself that something was wrong between the two of you left a bitter taste in his mouth because he didn't want to believe it. he saw you as his endgame, like nobody else in the world could compare to you, and to think that you may not feel the same about him... well, it was a difficult pill to swallow.

he wondered if he came on too strong, showed his cards too early, and seemed too clingy and lovestruck before it was deemed appropriate. you'd only been together, officially at least, for four months, most of which were long distance, but luke knew he was a goner for you way before that.

he silently cursed as the chill of the december air hit his skin. he should've worn a hoodie. he grabbed the small throw blanket draped over the armchair and placed it around his shoulders. he wished he got to see you over thanksgiving break because maybe you two wouldn't be in this rocky situation right now, but your coach ordered you and clarisse to stay on campus over break to sharpen your skills since you missed summer training. luke and chris were less than pleased with the idea, but they knew it was out of their control.

luke fell asleep on the couch that night after succumbing to the tiredness in his body. the sun was beginning to rise by the time his eyelids fluttered shut. he hoped that he'd wake up to a text from you, but when he woke up to the sound of the bus screeching to a halt in nashville, he realized it was the hope that kills.

“are you guys going to the fall concert?” silena asked, poking her head out of the bathroom. she was part of the planning committee for the unc fall semester concert and she’d been stressing over the logistics of it for weeks.

“lena, if we even tried to miss it, you’d kill us,” clarisse chuckled, putting on a coat of mascara. “you’ve been talking about this since we got back.”

the three of you were getting ready in your dorm. you and clarisse were roommates this year, thank gods for athlete privileges, and silena lived in the building next door in a single since she was an ra. how she had the time to be an ra, be a member of the music festival planning committee, and be a full-time student was truly beyond your comprehension.

“lena, calm down. it’ll be good,” you squeezed her shoulders as you passed by behind her, grabbing your lipgloss from the counter. “and even if it sucks, half the people in the crowd are either drunk or high or both and will probably not remember it.”

“true,” she snorted, curling the final piece of her hair. she unplugged her hair curler and gave herself one last look in the mirror, “i’ll see you guys there? i gotta go make sure shit didn’t hit the fan.”

you and clarisse nodded as silena said her goodbyes. you dabbed on some lipgloss, glancing down at your phone every few seconds. clarisse side-eyed you, unable to hide her smile, “you waitin’ for a text?”

“shut up,” you rolled your eyes at her teasing tone. she didn't really know that your relationship was a little muddy at the moment. you weren’t the best at talking about your feelings and it felt wrong to talk about your relationship drama when clarisse and chris seemed to be going strong. “they’re supposed to land in los angeles ten minutes ago.”

“their flight probably got delayed, y/n,” she replied, “happens all the time.”

“no, i know, but just wanna make sure they’re safe, y’know?”

clarisse crossed her arms over her chest, “they’re safe or he’s safe?”

you ignored her question, opting to busy yourself with the weather app on your phone to avoid any follow-up questions, “how are you not checking your phone for a text from chris right now?”

she shrugged, “he always knocks out on long flights so i don’t expect a text until he gets to their hotel.”

“how are you and chris, by the way? i know we live together and shit, but i feel like we haven’t gotten to talk about it in detail since we’re always so tired from school and practice.”

“we’re good,” clarisse hummed, “just miss him loads, though. i haven’t seen him since we left camp– what? four, almost five, months ago?”

you were in the same boat, kind of. you and luke hadn’t seen each other in months and you were getting antsy. they’d been on the road for the past few months, meeting with producers and fulfilling their contractual obligations. they hadn’t been in a set location long enough for you to be able to fly out to see luke, even just for a weekend.

at first, there were movie dates where you’d order each other food and eat and watch the movie on facetime together. there were weekly phone calls and daily texts, but nothing compares to the real thing. being with luke in person was something that you were craving. camp half blood spoiled you with having him all for yourself and now that you were back in school and he’s out in the world, it was beginning to weigh on you.

you missed him. a lot.

you missed kissing him and feeling his lips break out into a smile when you’d mumble something stupid. you missed feeling his arms around you, hugging you from behind while you got ready for the day. you even missed waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of him scribbling random lyrics on pieces of scrap paper he found in your room when he slept over.

long distance is hard and sure, luke wouldn’t be the type to cheat or do anything to jeopardize your relationship, but it still didn’t stop a knot from forming in your stomach every time a picture of him or the band popped up on your social media with a gorgeous singer, actor, or model that they ran into on the red carpet. what if he realizes one day that he wants someone who lives the same life as him? wild and adventurous, not tied down by school or sports?

a part of you felt silly for being so insecure about things. it was too early in the relationship to have this conversation, isn’t it? you knew that your avoidance of the topic was starting to affect your relationship with luke, as much as you wished it didn’t, but what if the minute you voice your concerns, he’ll realize that being with you was more than he bargained for? after all, you weren’t the same five star with all the time in her hands, care-free, and relaxed that he met at camp. there was a chance that luke would call it quits on this if you said anything and it felt like too big of a risk to take.

your phone buzzed on the counter, indicating a text.

from: luke <3

‘landed and jetlagged. gonna sleep for a few. enjoy the concert babe!’

you hearted the message and slipped your phone into your back pocket after sending him a quick goodnight text. the three dots popped up for a second, then in a blink, they disappeared. read at 8:43 pm.

“you ready?”

you snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of clarisse’s voice. you nodded and grabbed your small purse before heading out the door. you ran into a group of your teammates who were heading to the amphitheater across campus for the concert. the walk seemed to fly by as they cracked jokes and shared stories about random things. you stayed silent for the most part, only laughing along when it seemed like the right time, but your mind was somewhere else. your mind was in los angeles.

by the time you got to the venue, you and clarisse separated from the group to enter the vip tent, courtesy of silena. a small crowd was beginning to form in front of the stage, taking up the grassy field. charlie was already at the tent, sipping on an ipa when he saw the two of you. his face broke out into a wide smile, giving you and clarisse a quick hug before leading you to the seats he saved.

“season’s looking promising for you guys, charlie,” you commented, accepting the high noon he offered. “the team’s looking good out there.”

“thanks,” he beamed, “don’t think we’re on the level of national champs just yet like you guys, but we’re trying!”

“you guys are doing great,” clarisse chimed in, “the energy in the stadium is electric this year. makes me love college.”

“are you telling me the papers and tests aren’t what makes you love college, la rue?” charlie teased.

she snorted, “oh yeah, because i just love staying up until 1 am writing a paper on greek mythology for classics 101.”

the three of you fell into a comfortable conversation about the class you were all taking. it was a prerequisite class that most athletes choose to take because the professor was flexible with deadlines when it came to athletes. it was helpful especially when a team has to play beyond their season for tournaments or championships. about ten minutes before the opening act got on stage, silena rushed into the tent.

“guys, please you need to come with me. i need your help,” she said frantically. she was nervously tugging on her ‘staff’ badge around her neck, already halfway out of the tent as she waited for the three of you to follow her. “please, it’s an emergency.”

“woah, lena, what’s going on?” you asked, getting up to comfort her. you followed her through the crowd, grabbing clarisse’s hand to keep her close.

silena shook her head, continuing her march through the sea of people, “just come with me, i’ll explain when we get backstage.”

you and clarisse looked at each other, feeling bad for silena. she put in her blood, sweat, and tears into this concert and you knew that she would beat herself up over it if something went wrong. silena always put her all into the projects she’s passionate about, but sometimes things outside of her control happen and unfortunately, she blames herself for it.

in the whirlwind of ‘excuse me’s’ and ‘sorry’s’, the four of you managed to make your way backstage. it was chaotic. people were running around everywhere making sure everything was set for the opening act. the girl who was opening the concert was waiting by the wings, her guitar strapped across her chest as she took some deep breaths. the crowd wasn’t full yet, but you knew that if you were in that position, you’d still be sweating buckets. going out there on stage to perform for strangers was nerve-racking. you didn’t know how luke did it. you admired that about him.

“lena, are you gonna tell us what’s going on?” clarisse questioned, picking up the pace of her steps to match silena.

silena stopped in front of a door, slowly turning to face you and clarisse. suddenly, her stressed facade faded as she twisted the doorknob, “why don’t you see for yourself?”

if you weren’t so confused about what was going on, you would’ve seen charlie lift his can up to his lips to hide his smile at how proud he was of his girlfriend for her acting skills. when the door opened, your heart stopped.

luke was here.

he stood in the middle of the room beside chris with a nervous smile on his face. he was wearing a black leather jacket on top of a white tank top and black pants. his poisoned mercury chain hung from his neck, shining under the overhead lights. his hands were stuffed in his front pockets, shy and timid, as he waited for your reaction.

clarisse screamed when it hit her that chris was actually here. she ran to him and nearly tackled him to the floor. chris wrapped his arms around his girlfriend and laughed as she giggled into his neck. the two of them shared a heartfelt reunion before rushing out of the room to get some privacy. the sound of the door shutting behind you made you blink.

luke cleared his throat, right hand scratching the back of his neck, “hey, five star.”

the nickname brought you back to your senses. you ran to him, engulfing him in a tight hug with an ‘umph.’ at first, luke was tense under your touch, unsure if you’d be happy with his surprise, but quickly, he melted into you. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, sighing in content as your familiar scent surrounded him. he felt sparks coursing through his veins as you hugged him tighter and all he could think about was how good it felt to have you in his arms again. his mind was still reeling at your reaction. he didn’t expect you to run to him like this, especially not when it felt like you’d been avoiding his calls over the last few weeks.

“what are you doing here?” you asked him, pulling away to hold his face in your hands. your eyes twinkled as you raked over his face, still in disbelief that he was actually in front of you. “you’re supposed to be in la.”

luke couldn’t stop the lopsided smile on his face, “well, i lied? we were in nashville recording with your dad and he mentioned that he didn’t schedule a session for us this weekend in case me and chris wanted to take a trip to north carolina, so here we are.”

you ran your thumbs over his cheekbones, whispering, “here you are.”

“god, i missed you so much,” he said, voice breaking. “you have no idea how hard it’s been.”

you gulped, your hold on his face faltering a bit. if luke wasn’t on edge, he wouldn’t have noticed the falter in your step, but he felt the slight hesitation in your actions. your warm touch slowly peeled away from his face and he instantly regretted saying those words. here he goes being clingy again. he removed his hands from your waist, clearing his throat. he sat on the couch, motioning for you to sit beside him. he tried to keep his hands to himself when you left a space between the two of you.

“i still can’t believe you’re really here,” you said, staring at him. you wanted to lean over and hold him in your arms again, but there was a weird tension in the air that made you feel queasy. “i feel like i’m dreaming right now.”

“i hope you’re not mad that i’m here,” luke looked down at his lap, flexing his hands. he had to keep his hands busy or else he’d surely reach for yours and he didn’t want to come on too strong. he had to keep his distance. he didn’t want to scare you off any more than he already did. “there was just an opening in the schedule and i-i wanted to see you.”

“i’m not mad at all.”

“good, good,” he replied. silence. he forced himself to look up from his lap, twisting his body to face you. he bit his bottom lip, trying to build up the courage to ask his next question. “are we okay?”

“we’re okay.”

“okay because i feel like things have been different between us lately,” he pursed his lips, looking at you with sad eyes. his tongue poked out the corner of his lips, eyes darting between you and the wall behind you. “i don’t know. i feel like we haven’t talked in ages, y’know? and i know you’re busy and you have a great life here that i’m not really a part of, but uh, i wanna be, y’know? i don’t know much about school or field hockey, but it’s important to you and you’re important to me so i wanna hear about it.”

he was met with more silence. luke continued, “maybe i’m asking for too much when i ask you to let me be a part of this life, but uh, i miss you? and i just feel like i’m losing you and that’s the last thing i want. so you gotta give me something, five star. tell me what i can do to be better.”

“if you need me to back off, i’ll do it, you know? you call the shots. you tell me what you need from me, and i’ll do it, okay? i just– i can’t lose this. i don’t wanna lose you,” luke mumbled. “maybe this is all in my head too. i don’t know anymore.”

you shuddered, lip quivering, “i feel like i’m holding you back.”

“what?”

“come on, luke,” you flicked away the tear that trickled down your cheek, “you’re out there in the world doing what you love. meeting new people. living your life and i don’t want to hold you back from that. we met each other when i didn’t have all these responsibilities and who i was at camp is not who i am here and i know you love those impromptu adventures and trips and spontaneity. a-and i can’t give that to you.”

“you deserve someone who can live this life with you and i’m stuck here for two more years, luke. i can’t do that,” it was getting hard to breathe. your throat felt like it was closing up, cutting off your airflow. you’d been putting off this conversation for weeks. it didn’t feel right to talk about this over the phone, and you thought that you had a few more weeks to figure out what to say to him when you saw him for winter break, but he was here now. “you deserve more than facetime calls and text messages, and that’s all i can offer.”

“is this–” he paused, licking his lips. “is this not what you want anymore?”

“what?”

“this, us? is this just not what you want anymore?”

an involuntary laugh escaped you as you wiped under your eye, “castellan, i don’t think i could stop wanting you even if i wanted to. and you know when we first met, i really wanted to.”

luke moved closer to you, just an inch or two, trying to gauge your reaction. you didn’t move away, which he took as a good sign, “i’m confused. why do you sound like you want to end this then?”

“i don’t want you to settle for this,” you sighed, “i know what you deserve and it isn’t this.”

“bullshit.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, looking at him in disbelief, “what?”

“i’m sorry, five star, but that’s bullshit,” a small smile was tugging on his lips. he reached over to place a hand over yours. his fingers traced your knuckles, running the pads of his fingers across the familiar ridges of your skin. “i don’t understand how after all this time you still don’t realize that all i want is you. it’s ridiculous, really.”

“it’s ridiculous?”

“it’s ridiculous,” he chuckled wetly. his other hand rubbed at his eyes, clearing his foggy vision. “our situation isn’t ideal, i know that, but i’d take long distance with you over anything else with anyone else. don’t you get it, five star? you’re it for me. if this isn’t what you want anymore, i’ll accept that. but if you’re only doing this because you don’t think i want this… five star, i want it all with you. long distance. phone calls. text messages. weekend trips when we can get them. distance has nothing on how i feel about you.”

leave it to luke castellan to make you blush. you shyly looked at him, eyes twinkling with something more than either of you bargained for when you first met in that secret spot you call yours, “how do you feel about me?”

“i’m not gonna say it right now because i don’t want to have the first time be while we’re in a fight,” luke laughed. the air was starting to clear. “but i have a feeling you know.”

“i know,” you squeezed his hand three times, “i do too.”

“will you put me out of my misery and kiss me please?”

“always so fucking dramatic,” you scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes, but you leaned over and pressed your lips to his.

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n

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feyhunter78 · 4 months

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Semiformal Kisses and Cat Fights

Art Cred: Kimmy_art0912 on Insta! Description: Among pulsating music, colorful lights, and a few girls who can't keep their eyes to themselves tensions rise, and your patience has finally run out. Happy Valentine's Day my loves!

The music is loud, blaring through the speakers, vibrating through the floor, multicolored lights spin, casting circles of neon colors across the walls of the bar. The smell of spilled drinks and perfume fills the air as you enter, your hand gripping Miguel’s bicep as you scan the room for Janey.

It’s been…a bit weird since your encounter in Miguel’s room a few weeks ago. At first, you were afraid you’d fucked up, that you had overstepped and ruined your friendship, but then it all kinda went back to normal. As normal as the tentative relationship between two people who almost kissed could be.

When you invited him to be your date for your sorority’s semiformal, on Valentine’s Day no less, you were so very afraid. What if he said no, what if everything you thought you saw, that you felt back in his room was all in your head? Which is why you said as friends right as he said yes. No going back then, so you—like a coward—played up the platonicness of it all, and tried to pretend like you weren’t avoiding eye contact.

Then everything got even weirder with the whole Ava thing. You swore up and down to everyone—except Mina—that you and Miguel are purely platonic, even when you gave him the cold shoulder and cried over him talking with his ex. Super embarrassing, no one but Miguel potentially believed you, and now you’re in a prison of your own making. You should’ve just grabbed him when he came to your door to apologize, should’ve kissed him when he stood in your room admiring his costume. Why didn’t you?

One of your sisters drifts by, bumping into Miguel, fluttering her eyelashes at him as she apologizes.

Right, that’s why, because you’re jealous and insecure and can’t stand to see other people flirt with him. So it’s better to just keep your distance so you don’t end up crying again.

Miguel’s bicep is solid under your grasp, so large your hand can’t even grip all of it.

The theme of the night was Great Lovers of History, which was a fancy way of saying dress like your favorite couple. It wasn’t hard to pick a costume, you, and Miguel both love the novel Dracula, even if it wasn’t as popular as the movie was. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from making some undignified noise when you saw how good Miguel looked. Those stupid huge muscles bulging, his broad chest, his toned back, he somehow made the ridiculous costume look impressive, and he even wore red contacts to get that perfect vampiric look.

You of course looked hot as hell, dressed in a flowy, but scandalously low cut white dress, hair curled and bouncy. Bram Stoker had never named Dracula’s Brides, but there was one, seemingly the eldest, that he favored over the other, so you decided to claim her role for the night.

“I don’t see Janey yet, she said she was already here.” You yell over the music, throwing a smile to one of your sisters as she passes by with her date. They’re dressed like Jim and Pam from The Office, it’s cute, a bit basic, but cute.

“Maybe she’s at the bar?” Miguel suggests leaning down to hear you better as he guides you through the crowd.

You can see people’s eyes on him, drinking him in, and feel another stab of jealousy. You know he looks hot, but he’s your date, not theirs. They can keep their eyes to themselves.

Janey and her date Eddie are dressed like Elizabeth and Mr. Darcey. You spot them immediately, right at the bar where Miguel suggested they might be.

You gush over Janey’s outfit, and she gushes over yours, and for a while that’s it. It’s a nice night, you drink, have fun with your friends, dance with Miguel, try not to feel insane over the number of times you have to remind someone that Miguel is here with you, and generally have a good time.

Then someone starts crying. It’s a new member, one whose Big is currently more interested in making out with her boyfriend in one of the bar’s booths than paying attention to her Little.

The new member, Addy, has tears in her eyes and mascara running down her cheeks as you usher her towards the bathroom, promising Miguel you’ll be back as soon as someone is able to break Danika away from her boyfriend.

You dry Addy’s tears while she tells you that she’s just so overwhelmed. That she brought the guy she has a crush on with her, but he seems more interested in one of the other girls in her new member class than her.

“And then Kaley said, ‘oh we have a class together, I was just saying hi,’ but like why don’t you just say hi then leave, why is she trying to dance with him?” Addy sobs, taking the paper towels from your hands and burying her face in them.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, but I’m sure he’s just trying to be nice and that’s why he’s dancing with her.” You coo, smoothing down her hair.

“And her boobs look so much better than mine.” Addy continues, flinging herself into your arms, and hiding her face in the crook of your neck.

“What? No, no way, you look amazing! And hey, if that’s why he’s dancing with her than he’s an ass, and you deserve better.”

“She literally brought her own date, and she’s been ignoring him! Spencer is a nice guy, we had Intro to Philosophy together last semester, and he took really good notes, so he would let me borrow them when I missed something or got sick. And, and he’s like super cute, I don’t know why she wouldn’t just stay with him.”

You bite your tongue to keep from laughing. “Maybe you should go talk with Spencer then, if your date is going to be an asshole, then there’s nothing wrong with talking to someone who isn’t. You don’t even have to dance with him, just go say hi. I bet he’s feeling the same way you are.”

Addy sniffles and nods, wiping away the last of her tears. “Yeah, Spencer has a really big heart, I’m sure he’s upset.”

You give her an encouraging smile and keep your hand on her upper back, supporting her as she walks past her date, who is very clearly staring at Kaley’s boobs.

Spencer pops his head up when he sees Addy, a smile spreading across his lips. “Hey Addy, you doing okay? I um…I saw you crying, I wanted to go over, but…”

“I’m okay, how about you? We’re kinda in the same boat, aren’t we?” She says, taking the seat next to him.

He scoots over so she has more room, his head dipping down to hear her better, his body language screaming I like you; I feel safe with you. It’s adorable, you feel like Cupid, as you watch the two immediately fall into a deep discussion about emotions and the philosophy behind them.

Now that Addy was taken care of, you roll your shoulders out and stop at the bar before heading back towards the dance floor. You don’t really know how it happened but two shots later and everything you’ve been drinking the whole night is finally catching up with you.

The only thing on your mind is Miguel, how much you adore him, how handsome he looks, how every fake bitch in this room has been eyeing him like a hyena eyes a wounded gazelle. You have to find him; you can’t leave your wounded gazelle all alone in this pack of jackals.

You find him, but he’s not alone. Your sister, though not one you particularly care for, is talking to him, well, trying to at least.

Dana is dressed pretty basic, red dress, and heels. You’re not sure who she’s supposed to be, and she doesn’t look bad, but the dress is too small, it doesn’t fit her right, and the color makes her skin look washed out.

“So, who are you with?” Dana shouts over the music, clearly unable to see you as you approach from the side, basically hidden by the other dancers.

“Y/N.” Miguel answers, eyes darting back to the bathroom entrance, your drink still in his hand, his discarded somewhere.

Poor thing, he didn’t see you leave.

“She left you all alone? That’s so mean.” Dana says, giving him an overexaggerated pout.

“She went to take care of a new member.” He says, always so quick to defend you.

She trails a finger down his chest, batting her eyelashes up at him. “Still, she shouldn’t leave a handsome thing like you alone.”

Miguel goes red, taking a step back, sputtering. “I—um, thank you, but I’m here with y/n, and—”

“Yeah, but y/n’s not here now, come on, live a little.” She takes your drink from Miguel’s hand. “This yours?”

Before he can say anything, she drains it, and smiles at him.

“That uh…that wasn’t mine.” Miguel says, taking another step back as she loops her arms around his neck and tries to pull him down to her level.

“Oh, too bad, and it looks like y/n still isn’t back, obviously you’re not that important to her, so why don’t you follow me upstairs?”

“Upstairs is blocked off.” Miguel says, so sweet, so oblivious. “And I’m waiting for y/n.”

He tries to gently push Dana away, but she hangs on. “Ugh, come on, y/n is so lame, don’t you want to have fun? You can have fun with me.”

You’ve had enough, blood boiling, you tap her on the shoulder, making both her and Miguel jump.

“Dana, your date is looking for you.” You say, saccharine sweet smile on your lips, your voice dripping with honey coated venom.

She untangles herself from Miguel, who looks like you caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. “Ugh, he’s so needy. Anyways, come find me if you need me, Miguel.”

The moment she leaves, Miguel turns to you, apologies spilling from his lips like water. “Y/N, I swear nothing happened, she just came up to me, and I told her I was here with you, but she kept going, and then she wanted me to go upstairs with her, and I told her upstairs is closed, and I was waiting for you and—”

You grab him by the neck of his costume and drag him off the dance floor, past the pitiful sign that asks people to stay away from the second floor, and up the stairs. Usually, the upper floor is open to the public. It’s a more secluded seating area with its own smaller bar and thick glass walls that block out some of the sound from below, bisected by cement pillars offering a modicum of privacy.

You’re tired of this, of watching everyone else get to grab him, touch him, flirt with him, he’s yours.

It’s darker on the second level, only a few safety lights, and the multicolored strobe lights flashing up from the first floor. It’s quieter as well, you can finally hear yourself think.

You keep walking until you find the corner booth and shove Miguel into it. Not for the first time you’re glad these damn booths are so big, Miguel can sit properly, facing you, without having to scrunch up. The alcohol in your system is making you brave, and a little horny, but mostly brave. You can see its effects on Miguel as well, the flush of his cheeks, the slight glaze in his eyes.

“Dulzura, please, don’t be upset, I promise, nothing happened, I wouldn’t—I’m here with you, and I know that we’re here as—as friends, but still, I wouldn’t…I didn’t—still don’t want to dance or spend time with anyone else.”

He looks so pretty, stumbling over his words, his hair all ruffled, his tone so sweet and pleading. You want him, bad. You know you shouldn’t. You were the one who said it was platonic, just friends, but when he’s here, looking the way he does, and everyone is circling around him like vultures, you just…

Fuck it.

You straddle him, grab his face, and kiss him.

Miguel short circuits, hands frozen in midair, body tense, and then it’s like a dam opens. His hands on your hips, pulling you closer, his lips moving in synchronicity with yours, warm, plush, the taste of tequila on his tongue, or maybe it’s yours, you can’t tell anymore. You’re practically devouring him with how desperate you are to finally, finally kiss him.

“Fuck, Miguel, I—I can’t be just friends with you, I can’t do it anymore.” You admit, breath catching in your throat when Miguel grabs your ass, his big warm hands hauling you even closer. “I need more, we have to be more.”

“We can be anything, anything you want.” Miguel says breathlessly, his glasses fogging up from the heat between you.

You tug his head back by his hair and attach your lips to his neck, biting down hard, intent on leaving your mark. “Don’t want other girls thinking you’re up for grabs, you’re mine, been mine since the first day of class.”

“Yes, yes, I’m yours y/n.” He whimpers, his hands caressing your body nonsensically, as if he can’t decide where to put them.

“Such a good boy for me, Miguel, looking so handsome, always so sweet, always saying just the right thing.” You continue your onslaught until his neck looks like a crime scene.

“Kiss me, please y/n, I need—please, please, I’ve wanted this for so long, please kiss me again.” Miguel begs breathlessly, looking absolutely wrecked.

So, you do, gladly, over, and over, and over again, until he builds the courage to tangle his hands in your hair, to venture under your skirt and grip your bare thighs, as he moans and squirms beneath you.

You can’t fuck him here, it’s too public, too rushed, especially knowing what you know, there’s no way in hell you’ll let Miguel’s first time be a drunken quickie at a bar. So, you pull back, cupping his cheeks, smiling softly when he whines and tries to chase after your lips.

You press your thumb to his lips, shaking your head. “We can’t, not here.”

“Why not?” He whines, pupils blown wide with lust, chest rising and falling rapidly, his grip brushing on your thigh and hip.

“Because I like you, and I respect you, so I won’t fuck you in a bar.” You tell him, pressing a chaste kiss to his kiss swollen lips before sliding from his lap.

Miguel pouts, actually pouts at you, and you nearly give in, but you steel yourself.

“Come on sweet boy, let’s go back to the party.”

He blinks at you as if he’s coming up from underwater, slow, liquid, then he bites his lip. “I um…I’m going to need a minute.”

You glance down and heat rushes to your face.

He’s hard, and huge, like massive, and your resolve starts to waver.

“What if I just?” You sit astride his lap and ghost your fingers over his covered cock. “Give you a hand?”

Nerd!Miguel Masterlist and the "part two" here

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey, @scoobysnakz, @ihateuguys, @idkbros-world @smartyren, @deputy-videogamer, @blackrose8425

#meg's writing #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #nerd miguel #nerd!miguel #nerd!miguel o'hara #college!miguel #college!reader #college au #that picture is so slutty and I want to just NMFGNVNSABVL

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lowkeyerror · 1 month

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The Family Business Ch.11

WandaNat x Reader

Word count: 2.7k

Ch. Notes: Violence, Physical assualt

Summary: Fisk is not happy with the way things turned out regarding the docks. He makes his own power play in retaliation that puts everyone on notice.

An: Sorry for not updating yesterday guys but Im planning on posting again before Monday to make it up to you

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Wilson Fisk was never one to shy away from the reality of a situation. To him, living life in such a make-believe state would not propel him to the success that he craved. He had built an empire, a kingdom, but had no one to share it with. He lost his family, and with them gone the only thing to fill the void was power.

Fisk was addicted to it. He needed it. It was only thing that made him feel good. So, though his empire was large he was acutely aware that it wasn’t the largest. The Maximoff’s presence cast a large looming shadow over his own. So, he looked to take care of the problem.

Fisk knew he would shoot Dragos Maximoff as soon as they agreed to meet in private. He assumed the Sokovian was a man of his word and would come alone. He was mistaken, and he hated making mistakes.

Knowing that the Dragos was hospitalized was good at first. Fisk didn’t care if the man lived or died because he thought without Dragos in the way the Maximoff’s would crumble. He was again, mistaken.

The reality of the situation was the Wilson Fisk underestimated the remaining Maximoff’s. He was foolish to believe that New York city would become his so quickly.

An oil spill was clever. It was big, messy, and destructive, but it would always go over as an accident. Fisk realizes that simply blowing up the pier wouldn’t have halted things as much. The play was high IQ.

His large fist slammed against his desk nearly snapping in half. While the Maximoff’s were getting calls placing orders, Fisk was taking order cancelations. He was having the people he got on his side retract their support. He was losing the power, and he would not take kindly to giving up anymore.

Watching them retreat would never be enough. He wanted the Maximoff’s to crumble beneath him, to beg him for mercy. They had embarrassed him in one foul swoop age he wild stop at nothing to have them burn with the same feeling.

You weren’t naïve enough to believe retaliation wouldn't be coming. It arguably was giving you anxiety. All the waiting and looking over your shoulder would've taken a larger toll on you if you were dealing with them alone.

However, you weren’t alone. In fact, contrary to your previous belief Wanda did not forget the terms you agreed to. You spent your nights between the spy and temporary crime boss.

It became somewhat of a routine. Even if you went to your apartment after work, you’d always end up at their place soon after. It’s nice, and that's why you refuse to question it.

It helps you sleep restfully but occupies to much of your mind when you're awake. It makes you feel like a teenager. The only person you can confide in is Kate. You tell her, but she’s not much help. Kate encourages this and pushes you to take more emotional comfort from the women.

Your feet hit the ground a little harder than normal as you run this morning. You think about the familiar, almost instinctual attraction you have for Wanda. Then your mind turns to the new undiscovered feelings you have for her wife. You found yourself craving to be in proximity with the Russian more and more.

Natasha had a warmth around her. She had no problem taking the backseat and blending in, but the moment she sensed anything was amiss she sprang into action quickly. Recently she had started making sure you had a lunch at work after Kate told her you’d usually skip it. There was no point in trying to turn down anything from the woman. Though you hadn’t known each other long it seemed like she just understood you.

You’re too occupied with your thoughts, and not paying enough attention to your surroundings. When you stop running, you go to turn around but a firm hand on your shoulder stops you. A gun is pressed firmly against your spine.

“We’re going to have a little chat. Now keep walking,” the man says guiding you with his hand.

You don’t say anything, you simply follow his instructions. Your nerves don’t fret, even as he directs you to an alley. Once you’re out of public view, he turns you to face him.

“Y/n L/n, high ranking employee of the Maximoff Family,” he spoke the gun now aimed at your sternum.

“Fisk,” you’re glare is unwavering.

He sizes you up, “Aren’t you a sweet little thing? Unfortunately, I’m going to have to put a dent in that pretty face you got.”

“Killing me would only hurt you in the long run,” you say to him.

He smiles, “It would, you’re absolutely right, but hurting you sends a message.”

“I’d like to see you try,” you keep your eyes on his.

He laughs, “Me? No, I don’t get my hands dirty for people like you. I’m only here to make sure you relay this to whoever’s in charge. Tell them that I won’t stop, tell them that surrender is no longer an option, and tell them they should keep an eye on the hospital.”

The last line sends you over the edge and before you know it, you’re attempting to disarm the mob boss. Your movements are fast but as soon as the gun is in your hand, you take a blow to the knees. You fall to the floor and the gun slides out of your hand.

Fisk bends down and picks up the gun, he tucks it into his coat. He looks down at you with a smile on his face, “Make sure she's recognizable boys. Until we meet again sweet thing."

That’s when you notice your predicament. The alley that had once been empty was now filled with Fisk’s men. The large man himself, gets into a car at the end of the alley which drives away promptly. The circle around you, but you refuse to be fragile in this moment. You slowly stand and look at the men, there’s around 8 of them. It seems like time works in slow motion.

You move first to the closest man to you and immediately twist his neck with a satisfying snap. He drops onto the floor and before you can get to another your on the floor with him. The men stomp you out harshly.

Once they’re certain they have the upper hand they begin to get more creative. The start using their fists and elbows connecting anywhere they can. The screams don't displace the pain you feel.

Your attempts to fight back only anger them further. You don’t know hoe long the beating continues for. You feel yourself slip in and out of consciousness a few times.

Blood coats your body in multiple places. You can’t tell when it starts or stops. You can barely breathe when they finally stop their assault.

“Send the Maximoff’s our regards,” one of the lackeys spit on you before laying a final nasty kick to your gut. He walks out of the alley with his men behind him.

Your back lay flat against the concrete as you stare up at the sky. Turning your head hurts, but you do it anyway. Carefully, you scoot yourself over to the wall and try to prop yourself up.

It was only a matter of time before someone came looking for you. You should’ve been by now and you weren’t. Knowing Wanda and Natasha the search party would be deployed soon.

However, keeping your consciousness was becoming a task. Your breaths are shallow and labored. The pain finally starts to set in, and tears fall from your eyes. Everything hurts, so much so that you're afraid to try to stand up.

It couldn’t have been longer than half an hour when a car pulls up in the alleyway. Your head hangs heavy, and you hope to God that these people are on your side.

Pietro is the first to reach you. He can’t find any words to say as he sees you in this state. He begins to shake his head as he bends down to get a better look at you. His hand cups your face gently and it trembles.

It hurts, but you reach your hand out to hold his wrist, “Jesus Christ, Y/n.”

You hear more steps approaching, but you stay focused on the man in front of you. You’re scared for them to see you like this.

“Y/n,” There’s disbelief on her tongue as she whispers your name. She doesn’t want this to be you, but as your bloody tear-stained face raises to meet her eyes, her resolve crumbles.

Wanda can’t help the tears that immediately begin to fall out of her eyes. Your face had begun to swell, blood dripped from your nose, your lip was bleeding too. They could see the bruises beginning to form over your exposed arms and torso.

You gaze over at the other redhead who refuses to look at you. Her body posture is rigid, and her eyes are cast firmly on the ground, you can see how cloudy they are.

“We have to get her to the hospital,” Pietro says.

You nearly scream out, “NO!”

They see the alarm and panic in your face, but Natasha tries to reason with you, “Y/n, you’re hurt badly. They need to check you out or-"

“Bucky,” you cut her off, looking between Pietro and Wanda.

“Y/n, he doesn’t do that anymore and you know that” Pietro says softly.

“Try,” you counter back.

Pietro looks to his sister who nods. He reluctantly leaves his position next to you and pulls out his phone to make the call.

“Why not the hospital?”

You shake your head, but then wince, “It’s not safe.”

“Who said it wasn’t safe baby?” Wanda takes Pietro’s place hand in yours.

“Fisk, he said- he won’t stop, there’s no surrender, and that we should watch the hospital,” you attempt to struggle to your feet.

“Y/n-"

“We have to get Papa out Wanda. He’s not safe there, we have to move him, we have to,” you begin to work yourself up feeling the anxiety finally starts to hit you.

It's Natasha’s firm hand on your shoulder that keeps you in place, “Y/n, breath with me.”

You go to protest, but the look of worry in her eyes causes you to pause. She takes a deep breath in, and you try to copy her, but you end up wincing.

Wanda sees this and lifts up your shirt to see your midsection badly bruised. Her touch is tender as her fingers glide over the faded cut on your side.

“You think anything they did will leave a scar like that?” You say with shallow breaths.

“If they weren't already going to die for doing this to you, I’d kill them for leaving a cut like that on you,” she says pulling your shirt back down.

Pietro walks back over to the three of you, “He said he'll do it, we just have to get her there.”

Wanda scoops you into her arms and walks you to the car. She carefully lays you down in the backseat before getting in herself. Pietro drives and Natasha takes the passenger seat. Wanda’s hand finds its way into your hair, trying to bring you any type of comfort.

“He told them to leave me recognizable, so they didn't focus to hard on my face after awhile,” you say to them.

“How many were there?” Natasha asks.

“8, 7 really I snapped that guys neck first,” you recount.

“How did he get you?” Pietro asks next.

You frown, “I wasn’t paying enough attention when I was running. He came up behind me and put a gun to my back.”

“He pulled a gun on you?” You can feel the woman getting upset.

You take your hand and place it in hers, “I will be fine. Bucky’s going to patch me up real nice.”

Once you arrive at the former doctors house, you’re greeted by a less than enthusiastic James Buchanan Barnes or Bucky for short.

“I retired for a reason you know?” He says as he let’s you all into his home.

The sight of you in Wanda’s arms startles him a bit. Wanda asks, “Where are we putting her?”

“Upstairs second door on your right,” he finds himself quickly leading them to the room.

Wanda is careful as she lays you down. They all stand as Bucky begins to prepare for this job.

“What happened to you kid, were you hit by a bus?”

“8 on 1 attack,” Pietro explains.

“The bus might’ve been better then,” Bucky says as he begins to check the extent of your injuries.

You try not to move too much as he pokes and prods your body. Sometimes you hiss, groan, but you don’t flinch.

“So, what’s the diagnosis Buck?” Wanda has her eyes on you as she speaks.

“Luckily, I don't think anything is broken, but her ribs are severely bruised, and I think her right ankle is sprained. Besides that, I think it's just bruising and some small cuts. Her nose is fine, her lips are fine, and her head is fine. She’s going to have to keep her weight off of her leg and wrap her torso until she’s healed.”

Wanda nods, committing the words to memory, “What do I owe you?”

He shakes his head, “Nothing, anything for your family.”

Pietro smiles, “What would take for you to come back and be our family doctor. We’re going to need one soon.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “What you need a check up?”

Natasha speaks for the first time, “We’re going to war with Fisk.”

He winces, “Definitely sounds like you'll need a doctor, but I’m retired Ms.…”

“Natasha, Wanda’s wife,” she introduces herself.

“Congratulations, I hope you enjoy your marriage like I enjoy my retirement” he speaks genuinely.

“Buck, we could really use you on our side. Without Papa leading us, we need all the help we can get,” Wanda tries to sway him.

“What do you mean Dragos isn’t leading you?”

The room turns somber as Wanda begins to explain the situation to Bucky. The man keeps a neutral face through it all. He lets out a large sigh at the end of everything.

“When this is over, I'm going back into retirement understood?”

Wanda nods, “Thank you.”

After you leave Bucky’s, Pietro drops you all off at home. Wanda and Natasha help you into their apartment. They sit you on the couch with them on either side of you.

“I’ve sent some extra forces to the hospital to keep watch over Dragos. I’ve also told some of my people on the inside to take care of any of those men that did this to you,” Natasha’s jaw twitches as she speaks.

“Good,” you say flatly.

There’s a tension in the room. It’s weird considering how comfortable you’ve all been around each other. However now as you sit silently on the couch the air feels thick.

“You could’ve died in that alley,” Wanda speaks first.

You nod your head slightly, “I could’ve.”

“He could’ve shot you down right there,” she continues.

“But he didn’t,” you counter.

Wanda looks at her wife, silently asking for help. Natasha knows what Wanda wants to do and she supports it.

“Y/n, we have to talk about something, and we don’t know how it’s going to make you feel,” Natasha says taking ahold of your hand.

You nod at her words.

“And please, just listen before you say anything else,” Wanda’s nerves are present in her voice.

“Ok.”

The tension hasn’t left the room. You sit there, between the couple still slightly in pain. You hardly feel it though, all you could feel was the anxious air around you, waiting for the women to speak. It was nerve-wracking, it was stomach churning, and it was scary.

The thought of losing you terrified Wanda. The thought of losing you, without ever telling you how she felt was even more terrifying. She couldn’t wait any longer after the events of the day. It was her sign, and she was ready.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader @sxlfishbrokenheart @marvelgirlx @elle161989

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat x reader #pietro maximoff #bucky barnes

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bumblebeesfromvenus · 7 days

Note

some Leon fluff where maybe the reader is famous actress and is being discrete (trying to wearing a mask and a baseball cap) enjoying her day in public and bumps into him?

Alright, alright..

But what if we make it that Leon had no idea? 👀

(The title is a word play on Hollywood, you'll get it when you read the story, I promise)

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Holly-what?!🎬

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You needed to get out. The press tour had been dragging on for months now and the large amount of interviews and talk show attendances were starting to fry your brain.

You just needed a break to feel like a human again. No questions, no opinions, no fans. But being able to step a foot outside without being met by obnoxious paparazzi and their cameras or squealing fans. You loved them dearly, you did, but... you, too, had your limits.

You never expected to become this big, let alone work with a cast of such talented people. All you wanted was to do what you love, which, unfortunately, was acting. There were pros and cons to all things in life, but acting definitely tipped the scale into the negative side of things.

Sometimes, you missed the little theater you performed at, making good friends along the way and then going back to just being you again.

A curse and a blessing; two sides of the same coin.

With a breath, you stepped out into the city, keeping your head down. A cap sat on your a pair of sunglasses were pushed up onto your nose, a measly disguise, really, but you had to work with what you got.

You were craving for someone to look at you like a regular person and not like one whose face was plastered on every billboard in the area.

The more you walked, the more the tension faded from your drawn up shoulders. No one had talked to you yet, no flashing cameras in sight.

You were even as bold as letting yourself breathe for what felt like the first time in forever.

Your head was held higher now as you strutted through the bustling streets, perfectly content with just being ignored by everyone.

The weather was quite nice and you couldn't even remember when you enjoyed a simple walk like this. Securing yourself a refreshing drink from a little local cafe, you were on a mission to find a small botanical garden that was supposed to be lovely this time of year.

Your brows were furrowed as you desperately tried to make out which street you were on, the flyer that was starting to crease, not helping. You turned every which way and even looked for any signs, but you were unsuccessful.

Despite all your efforts, that stupid flyer was getting you nowhere. You had your nose buried in it, drink in the other hand as you just kept going straight ahead.

You'd end up somewhere eventually, right?

You did end up somewhere.

Running face first into what you thought was a wall, which turned out to be a tall man with the most gorgeous eyes you'd ever seen.

Your drink and the flyer were now splayed out on the floor and your cap was crooked on your head.

"Shit- are you okay?" He asked hurriedly, picking up the, now soaked, map and trying to salvage as much of your drink as possible.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good... are you okay?" You adjusted the cap, taking the flyer from him. He looked stressed to you, a crease between his brows.

"No, yeah, I just... had a long day, that's all." He chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. You hummed in acknowledgment.

"I'm sorry, I should've looked where I was going. The fault is mine." You apologized, holding onto the empty cup to dispose of it correctly once you spotted the next bin.

"Don't worry about it, no one was hurt." He smiled before his eyes widened at your empty drink.

"Sorry about your drink. I'll buy you a new one." He offered, although it came off more as a statement.

"Oh, no, please. You really don't have to." You chuckled, but he was already dragging you along with him.

"No, I insist. It's the least I can do." He said kindly, glancing at you with a small smile.

You were still so whiplashed from your run-in that you hadn't really registered that he seemingly hadn't recognized you.

He was treating you like he would any other person, and it made you crack a tiny smile.

"So..." he started, his hands shoved into his pockets as he led the way to the nearest place to get a drink, "judging by that god awful flyer, you're not from around here?"

You laughed at his true remark.

"No, I'm not. Just passing through." You hummed in response. He made a quiet sound of acknowledgment before there was a moment of silence between the both of you.

"Do you mind me asking what you were trying to find?" His question caught you off guard, your brows furrowing before they shot up again.

"Oh! I was trying to get to the botanical garden? The flyer said it's supposed to be lovely around this time." You smiled, trying to keep up with his pace.

Upon noticing your struggle, he subtly slowed down his waking speed.

"It is. I could... show you the way if you want?" His tone was surprisingly shy for someone like him.

"That'd be very nice....?" You slightly tilted your head, waiting for a name. His brows raised slightly.

"Oh, Leon. I'm Leon." He replied bashfully, a slight pink tint on his cheeks.

It made you smile, how such a strong and sort of intimidating man wasn't the best at social interactions.

You're doing great, buddy.

You gave him your name, your real name, without even thinking twice. Though, he still didn't seem to know who you were.

He hadn't even asked you about the odd cap and sunnies combo. A gentleman...

"Here we are." He announced, coming to a stop.

"I'll just get some drinks, and then I'll walk you to the garden. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect, Leon." You smiled, watching him walk into the cafe.

You waved at him through the window, which he happily reciprocated with a smile.

What a sweetheart.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The walk to the botanical garden had been simpler than you thought. So simple, in fact, that you now felt stupid.

"I can't believe I walked right past it!" You laughed, taking a sip of your beverage. Leon laughed, too, his blonde hair shining under the sun.

"In your defense, the entrance is a little hard to find if you don't know the city."

"Because there totally wasn't a huge sign plastered on the outside." You remarked, mentally face-palming yourself for missing such an obvious marker.

"Happens to the best of us." Leon smirked over the rim of his cup.

You grumbled a half-hearted fuck off with a smile.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

It was quite easy to stay in a conversion with him as you two walked along the winding paths lined by many different kinds of blooming flowers.

The air smelled sweet, and the buzzing of bees and other insects made up a delightful harmony that welcomed the summer.

You managed to spot some butterflies too admiring their colors and patterns as they fluttered from flower to flower.

Your drinks were now empty as you sat on a bench, sharing stories and laughing.

"Why all the.., you know?" Leon asked, loosely gesturing to your disguise.

You froze a little but quickly gathered yourself.

"I have... sensitive skin. And you know how harsh the sun can be. I have an event coming up, and I don't want to show up looking like a tomato." You chuckled.

"Fair point." He shrugged.

"What kind of event?"

You swallowed, feeling yourself sweat.

"Oh, just... a wedding. Yeah, a friend's wedding." You answered, followed by a tight-lipped smile.

"Oh, nice. Perfect weather." He hummed, absolutely not bothered by the obvious uncertainty and lack of confidence in your response.

You sat and chatted for a while until the sun slowly turned the sky into a beautiful painting of pink and purple.

But that's not what prompted you to leave. You didn't want to, in fact. It had been so nice to get away from everything.

Unfortunately, however, you caught the flash of a camera out of the corner of your eye.

Fucking paparazzi.

The flash slowly started to pick up as more and more people photographed you.

"Hey, Leon, do you have a pen?" You asked, shifting in your seat uncomfortably.

"Sure... why?" He questioned with a confused look, handing you the pen he'd pulled from inside his jacket.

You quickly took his arm and scribbled your number on his skin.

"Hey, what are you-"

"I had a lovely time, I really did. But I have to go now. Call me!" You rushed off, trying to make a discreet yet fast exit.

Leon was left dumbfounded sitting on that bench, wondering why the pretty girl he'd bumped into rushed off, followed by a mob of maniacs with flashing cameras.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The next morning came faster than he wanted to, still hanging on to that feeling of sitting with you in that garden.

He was bummed out, unsurprisingly.

Leon had made sure to write down your number on something more permanent, lest he forget.

He was sipping his usual morning coffee in his favorite cafe while reading the newspaper.

When he turned over the next page, his eyes almost popped out of his hand, and he choked n his coffee when he spotted a picture that was all too familiar on the front page.

Imagine his surprise when he read the bold headline above the photo of the two of you sitting in the botanical garden;

BREAKING NEWS: Oscar nominated actress spotted with new boyfriend.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I hope you liked it!! <3

More Leon here -> 💫

《taglist》: @vampkennedy @k-fallingstar @dmitriene @argreion @leonslittlekennedy @allysunny

Lkm if you want to be added! <3

#bumblebeesfromvenus #Fi answers 🐝#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #resident evil leon #leon kennedy comfort #leon s kennedy fluff #leon kennedy fluff

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fallenneziah · 1 year

Text

Flicker Optimus Prime x Reader

Summary: You and Optimus go for a midnight drive.

Apologies for any spelling mistakes.

Optimus had been stressed lately and it seemed like you were the only one who could see it. You sat near Cade's old shed and watched Optimus interact with his team. You had been hanging out with them for a while and after the battle, you'd been laid off from work, which left more time for the 'bots.

You sighed. You could tell just by looking at him just how much stress was put on the mech's form. Optimus was saying goodnight to Shane who was being forced off the property again and sent home early. While some of the 'bots like Drift and Crosshairs retired to recharge, Hound, Bumblebee and Optimus seemed to have their processors full. Bumblebee was throwing punches at an imaginary target while Hound lounged. And Optimus struggled to stay still.

You looked up at the dimming sky. It was roughly 9:40 and the sky would be pitch black by 10:30. You hummed, that gave you an idea. You stood from the shed-side and walked down into the junkyard. You approached Optimus carefully and took his attention from his pacing.

''Y/N? How may I assist you?''

You smirked softly. ''I was wondering if you'd like to go for a drive?''

He tilted his head and looked up at his preoccupied team. Then down at you. You nodded and looked out at the road. ''Maybe some silence and just... hanging out?'' Optimus hummed. Ever since you'd started hanging out you'd seemed to be able to read him like an unlocked data pad.

He hummed and nodded, ''Where would you like to go?'' You smiled, ''I have an idea.'' He nodded and walked with you to the end of the dusty lot. The barren road was covered in shadows with little light to cast. His form twisted and turned softly. The sounds of his plating easily shifting into place and folding was music to your ears, and soon his semi-truck form stood before you. You climbed into the open door and allowed the seatbelt to strap you in.

''Where are we going?''

You took hold of the wheel and Optimus drove. You would softly turn the wheel and guide Optimus along the road. You drove near the city and out onto another side road. Optimus hummed in interest as you drove him out into the grassy countryside.

The tall grassy fields or rolling hills were empty and dark. Street lights stopped just outside of the road. Optimus examined his surroundings and continued until he reached a large, empty field. The field was bordering a wide span of trees. You motioned him to slow and hopped out of the driver's side. You made sure it was clear and he transformed.

''Y/N? Where are we?''

You took in a deep breath of the fresh air and motioned him closer. ''I want to show you something, trust me.''

Optimus was hesitant but followed you into the ditch and the open field. You looked around and smiled. The dark early summer night was perfect. You stepped slowly out into the tall grassy hedges that reached up to your hips. Optimus watched you curiously. You turned back to him and sighed. ''Isn't it pretty?''

You looked up at the night sky. Dim and glistening with bright stars. Optimus ex-vented softly and sat on the side of the road with his pedes intruding on the field. ''It is. Your planet is wonderful...'' You smiled. ''It's nice to just get out into the night and be alone. Everything can weigh heavy on you sometimes. And sometimes you don't know what to do with it.''

Optimus looked at you. ''Ah, yes...''

You shrugged. ''Things don't always work, life isn't always easy. But for every bad thing that happens, you can only come out victorious right? If you think about it, each breath you take is a victory. And sometimes...'' You spread your arms along the grassy plain and spun around in a circle.

The grass stirred and the blades of grass parted and lit up in a soft glow. Optimus' optics went wide as a zone of fireflies escaped from the grass and floated out into the air. His breath caught in his intake as he stood. He reached out his servo toward them but quickly pulled back in fear of hurting them.

''What..?''

You chuckled. ''Fireflies. Aren't they pretty?'' He looked back at the sky and nodded, ''Yes, they are...'' You spun around through more of the field and woke more of them from their perches. They sprung from the ground like a warm glowing blanket and curled around you and Optimus as they escaped the field.

Optimus stepped carefully into the field and leaned down. He swept his servo through the grass, his optics lighting up like a sparkling's when the bugs drifted off into the sky. He kneeled and looked at you. ''Y/N...''

He smiled and chuckled. You approached and leaned on his thigh. Optimus looked up and watched the fireflies scatter and disappear back into the darkened night. ''I like to do this, it always acts as a silly little stress reliever.''

The Prime hummed. ''I understand why, it is... a magical experience.'' He held out his servo for you and you climbed on. You came closer to his face and reached out to touch him. ''Even the leader of the esteemed Autobots needs a break, y'know?''

''Thank you, Y/N.''

You leaned in and softly kissed the corner of his chipped mask plating. The warm metal was nice and the low hum of his spark was ever-present. He seemed a bit shocked by the action but embraced your gesture regardless.

You patted Optimus' plating and closed your eyes.

He laid back against the ground and laid you on his chest. You looked up at the twinkling stars as a shooting star passed by the two of you. You hummed and wished in your head. The warm thrum of Optimus' spark from within its chamber warmed your back and released the tension in your muscles.

#transformers #optimus prime #maccadam #optimus x reader #optimus prime x reader #transformers x reader #He's so cute yall #he needs a little alone time #but like with you

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ellecdc · 1 month

Note

hi my lovely, i was wondering if i might please be able to make a request! absolutely fine if it doesn’t inspire you or you don’t get around to it for a while or you don’t like it it’s no pressure!!

i was just wondering if i might be able to request big brother sirius or best friend barty (my loves) and a reader who is so stressed with classes and workload- ive been having a hard time lately and i feel so out of my depth and its seems that no one else is struggling like me and my adhd really isn’t helping me cause i try and get my work done and i just end up sitting there for hours and then breaking down cause i can’t do it and i just feel so useless

so sorry for going on a tangent i just don’t really have anyone to talk to! again its totally okay if you don’t want to write this just speaking about its made me feel better! i hope you’re doing well my lovely, you bring me so much comfort! and i hope birdy is behaving herself

🪩

cheering you on babes! sorry for the wait in this request, and thanks for your patience in me <3 hope your workload isn't causing you too much grief, and both Big Brother Siri and BFF Barty have asked me to tell you to make sure to take breaks and be nice to yourself!!

please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.

BFF!Barty Crouch Junior x stressed!reader [GN] who Barty forces to take a break

You were on your umpteenth read through of your notes for your upcoming Herbology exam when your books were rudely ripped out from underneath you.

“Hey!” You shouted at the unknown assailant when you raised your head to see Barty carefully piling your notes together and shoving them into his own book bag. “Barty, give them back.”

“No can do, Treasure. Let’s go.”

You watched, dumbfounded, as Barty began to walk away from your table in the library before he turned around when he realised you weren’t following him.

“Hello!? Earth to Treasure?” He sing-songed on his way back before he waved a hand in front of your face, which you quickly swatted away.

“Barty, this isn’t funny.”

“I agree.” He answered quickly; his tone garnering a severe quality that made your skin crawl. “You’ve been shacked up in this library for Salazar knows how long, I don’t know when your last real meal was that didn’t consist of tea and Honeydukes sweets, and when was the last time you got fresh air? You know? That stuff that's produced by trees and life and not tainted with the musty smell of old books?”

“Barty, I need to prepare for this exam.” You pressed.

“Which you have, and if you humour me right now, I’ll even help you study more later. Now, let’s go.” He demanded as he took your elbow and hauled you up from the table and dragged you by the wrist unceremoniously behind him.

After numerous failed attempts at getting Barty to tell you what he was doing, where he was taking you, what he was up to, why he was dragging you across the castle, you spent your trek across the castle grounds in a begrudging silence with only the occasional muttered protest escaping your lips.

Finally, Barty released your wrist as you stopped in front of an expanse of wall encasing the southern grounds near the quidditch pitch that didn’t seem to get much traffic at all.

You watched as your friend dug his arms into the bag much further than should have been humanly possible alerting you to the fact that he had, indeed, cast an illegal undetectable extension charm.

He was going to make you fail your exam and an accomplice to a crime.

He pulled out a large stack of ceramic plates he no doubt pilfered from the kitchens and placed them beside you before reaching back in and retrieving another stack.

“Barty. What are you doing?”

“Blowing off steam, as the muggles say.” He explained simply as he moved to stand beside you and placed a matching stack of plates on his other side.

“By scrubbing dishes outside like a down-and-out House Elf?” You asked bemusedly as you picked up one of the plates and twisted it around in your hands. They didn’t look dirty.

“Ye have so little faith, dear Treasure.” Barty said theatrically before he launched a plate at the ancient stone wall and watched it shatter before the pieces rained down into the grass below it.

“Barty!”

“Too much talking, not enough throwing Treasure.” He called over to you as he hurled a second plate at the wall.

“Can you at least tell me why we’re defacing school property?!”

With a long suffering sigh, Barty allowed the plate he’d been in the process of picking up clatter back onto its stack unceremoniously.

Barty moved to stand in front of you, crouching down ever so slightly so as to force you to make direct eye contact with him and placing a hand on each of your shoulders should you consider bolting.

“Alright Treasure, listen. Are you listening? I love you, you’re my best friend, my soulmate, my ride or die, I would live, die, and kill for you; you fucking suck when you’re stressed out. Okay? You’ve been living in that library for a week, you’re barely eating or getting any vitamin D which is already difficult enough in sodding Scotland without you actively avoiding the sun’s rays, and…I miss you.”

You looked between both of his green eyes which oozed nothing but earnestness and concern before letting your shoulders drop.

“Fine, but why are we smashing plates?”

Seemingly trusting you not to take off, Barty returned to his full height with far more pep in his step than he had before he read you like one of your Herbology textbooks.

“Great question! I was trying to decide between this and shoving Gryffindor’s into the Black Lake; I figured you appreciate this better.” He said as he shot you a wink. “Now get throwing, Treasure!”

Deciding that it was folly to try to argue or reason with your…capricious friend, you picked up a plate and lobbed it dutifully at the wall.

What started off as you merely humouring your friend in his antics quickly left you breathless, smiling, and squealing in delight with each smash of a plate. You and Barty spent much of the afternoon cackling and dancing under a shower of broken porcelain before you reparo’d the plates and did it all over again.

You hardly realised the sun was beginning to dip behind the trees when you turned to look at Barty; his face flushed red and a wide grin spread across his face which you were sure was mirrored on your own.

“Thank you, Barty.”

His smile turned softer as he looked at the plate in his hands somewhat abashedly. “No need to thank me, Treasure. You know I’ll always look out for you, ‘specially when you forget to do it yourself.”

“Easy there, Junior; I'll start to think you’re going soft on us.” You teased as you nudged him in the arm with one of your plates.

He scoffed and shoved you away from him. “I will not tolerate this slander.”

“Is it slander if it’s true?”

“Defamation.”

“There’s no one here to hear me.”

“Hey, Y/N!” The sound of James Potter’s voice rung through the air as he walked towards you from the Quidditch pitch. “It’s good to see you outside of the library! I was getting wor-”

You never got to hear what James had been worried about as Barty quickly began lobbing plates in his direction.

“Barty!” You shouted as James began dodging the assault.

“Sorry, he spooked me.” Barty deadpanned, not sounding sorry at all as he continued throwing plates at the Gryffindor chaser.

“I’ll catch up with you later!” James shouted as he started jogging towards the castle in the opposite direction of his attacker.

“You know, for a quidditch player, you have terrible aim.” You grumbled at your friend as you shot him an unimpressed glare.

He returned your glare in response to your insult. “I’ll have you know, if I wanted to actually hit him, I would have.”

“Soft.”

“Alright, that’s it. Pull out your wand, Treasure.” He barked as he dropped his plates, brandished his wand and took a duelling stance.

“I am not fighting you, Junior.”

“Those were fighting words.”

And before you could retort, he had picked you up and thrown you over his shoulder before he began marching towards the castle.

“What are you doing?!” You squealed as you playfully swung your fist against his back.

“Throwing you in the Black Lake.”

“Barty!”

You didn’t return to the castle until the sun had fully set; feeling tired in a good way and far happier and more relaxed than you had felt in days.

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #slytherin skittles #barty crouch jr x reader #barty crouch jr x you #barty crouch jr fluff #barty crouch jr drabble #barty crouch jr ficlet #barty crouch jr imagine #gn!reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #gender neutral insert #ellecdc fics

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shidouryusm · 8 months

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little universe - gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: in the last hours of dusk you realise how much Satoru means to you

word count: 1.4k

content: soft satoru, way too soft reader, fluff.

a.n - im too disgustingly soft for this towering paintbrush. I will kiss his eyes a thousand times

The summer sky casted an endless blue, painting the skyline with her depth. Somewhere in the distance, the silence of this passing hour was cut by the songs of cicadas. and in the midst, you see Satoru. sitting on the porch, propped against the door. a hand resting against his cheek as his eyes reach the infinity of the blue ahead of him.

“toru?” your voice prompting him to break the unsaid staring contest and look at you. You bring your hand, raking through his hair, it’s muscle memory for you at this point. His hair, slightly damp from the shower earlier,was flattened over his forehead, tufts of it covering the cerulean eyes. His hair felt like light clouds drifting through your fingers,holding a softness in it that makes you wanna play with it forever.

Satoru hums, feeling your touch. a sweet smile playing along his lips as he watches you take a seat beside him.

“you planning something devious? sitting like that.”, gojo laughs– a small breathy laughter, escaping his nostrils. his lips curving into his one sided smile upon your words.“can’t a man enjoy the simplicity of the nature. must I always be doing something”

“well, you aren’t exactly the type to…meditate under the nature, 'toru. it’s natural for me to conclude you’re probably plotting” you slash your hand against your throat “– world destruction or something nefarious like that. I'm not opposed at all though” you shrug your shoulders.

Gojo laughs again, a bit louder this time. his childish chuckle mixing with the buzz of the cicadas. A swarm of giddiness runs down your spine at his unadulterated boyishness.

“Is this what you feel about me, darling? well, that’s saddening”, his large hand wraps you around your shoulder, pulling you against him, your body flush against the sides as you encircle your arm around his waist, you feel his thumb rubs small circles on your shoulder. Satoru presses a small kiss between your eyes before resting his cheek against you. An act of sheer comfort and tranquility.

Silence veils over you both once again as you watch the blue sky deepening her shade, encroaching the night’s call. The colour of it resembling your lover’s eyes inadvertently making you look at them.

His eyes holds depth you can’t bring yourself to fathom. eyes that have witnessed acts you wish you could reverse time and undo. eyes that have seen through the uglies of the world that sometimes all you want is to wrap your hands around and protect them.

Yet these eyes hold unbounded beauty. eyes that conveys infinite promises to you. eyes that have never left the glint of mischievousness.

Eyes with so many layers of blue that you could sit down and point them out. Eyes even beautiful than the spread of the sky above and eyes that has left you falling more and more for him every passing day.

“thinking something about me, sweetheart?” his drawling voice brings you back. His eyes are narrowed at you, eyebrows raised, as he brings his face closer. His nose brushes against your temples, small breaths tickling the skin, while he plants a sudden, sloppy and a rather wet kiss on your cheek. “you wanna go in for some–”

“Toru, that is vile. did you just smear your spit on me” you scrunch your face, touching the damp spot on your cheek where he kissed.

“Why you’re acting like I don’t do it every nigh….HEY OW OKAY SORRY” you pinch his sides with your arm that was wrapped around his waist. Glowering at him before resuming to lean against his chest, “sit here quiet and nicely.”

“so mean.” you hear him mutter before tightening his hold on you, bringing you even closer. You smile, feeling his head resting against you again, as he releases a contented sigh.

A waft of wind blows through the front porch. You watch the overgrown lawn swaying along the rhythm. There’s a sense of vulnerability in this moment, with the lingering hues of the fleeting blue hour. You and him. Unprotected yet so shielded within each other.

Satoru’s heartbeat echos through your ear. The constant murmurs of his heart that is too big for his own good, sends your thoughts to an overdrive.

His cheeky persona has always masked the care and love he harbours for the younger generation. His countless attempts have always wanted to set apart the world from the raw ugliness that he had to endure. His growth over the years has set himself on the pedestal of “the honored one”. A beacon of hope. The strongest of the Jujutsu world. A one man army to fix every twisted mess of Jujutsu.

But to how many is he Satoru? A raging sweet-tooth who takes drink orders, unimaginably sweeter for a normal human. A guy with a palm-in-the-face dressing sense. Someone who will mess up the bathroom in the mornings.Someone who will purposely use your shower stuff because it feels like you’re with me always. Someone who will pout and jut his lips to get something they want, too endearing for you to stick to your uptightness. Someone who purposely spoils a movie for you if he watched it ahead.

Someone who displays all the pride in the world while mentioning his students as if they are his flesh and blood,often treating them with whatever they demand. Someone who has a laughter ringing like a dulcet, and someone who is just…purely Satoru.

You raise your head, facing him as you cup his cheek. A little sudden to surprise him but nonetheless melting into the touch. Your thumb rubs the rosy apple of his cheek, while his lips press a quick kiss to the inside of your palm.

“don’t you get tired, toru?” your voice dripping with earnesty, your eyes pleading him to say yes just so you can say take some rest.

Your insides points accusatory fingers to the world to make them see him as him. To let him take a break. To let him be his old self.

“I certainly do. I just wanted some sexy time with you and you turned me down. Im tired of being heartbroken all the time, baby”, satoru feigns sadness, closing his eyes with mocking despair. You shake your head, knowing he would avert it.

“Toru, you know what I’m talk-”

He stops you mid sentence with an abrupt small kiss, his lips tentatively hovers over yours before completely resting them. His large hand palming most of your face, tucking a hair behind your ear.

The kiss, unlike every other, held unsaid words. As if your toru understood what you meant and conveys the answers wordlessly through shared lips and breaths.

He pulls away, tucking your head against the crevice of his neck,his hands tangled in your hair, “I have you, my sweets. You may be a little obnoxious, leaving my heart into pieces, but having you is enough for me. more than enough if possible” his soft voice resonates in your ears.

Your throat feels lumpy at his words, arms tightening their hold on him. His admission filling a gap in your heart you never knew you had. You understand what he meant. The world may be oblivious to this side of his, but you aren’t.

The vulnerability that he pours out to you singles you out from them. The rest may anchor themselves on him, but he rests on you – forever will. A piece of his youth has still remained and it is cradled safe in your hearts. Away from the world, forming a makeshift universe – holding just you and him.

He may be the strongest to the world but he was Satoru to you. The messy haired teenager you somehow managed to fall in love with. The haughty second year who grew into an individual filled with love bigger than the sky and compassion touching ends of the universe. It was your Satoru amidst the “honoured one”

“Well, you’re stuck with me now, no matter how much obnoxious you find me. You dug yourself a hole with this one”, a kiss plants against his chest, right where his heart is. right where the unbroken universe of yours resides.

“Oh did I? how unfortunate of me”

As the last light of the fleeting evening hides under the blanket of nightfall, you make a promise to safeguard this Satoru away from the broken world.

oh to kiss this dumbass between the eyes and keep him in my pocket

oh tagging @stsgluver because baby said so

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thebestofoneshots · 9 months

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birthday girl | marauders x reader

Pairing: J.P. x S.B. x R.L x Female Ravenclaw Reader Word Count: 3.8 k Warnings: none Prompt: It's your birthday but you're sick. The boys are just total darlings and care for you no matter the risks, making sure you have a super happy speacial day regardless. Comfort Fic // Birthday fic Written for @kquil

Soooo… thanks to @kquil's 1k follower celebration we discovered our birthdays are super close together, and it made me so excited I had to ask when her birthday was exactly and then I knew and then I had this idea in my head.

And gosh, Kquil, I absolutely love the way you write love, so I wanted to make a little something for you. Hope you’re having a fantastic day sweetie, even if you’re sick with that goddamned awful virus, it feels like shit, I know it does, so I thought, perhaps a little comfort fic could make you feel better.

This is just a little gift I wanted to make, a token of appreciation for you always sharing your lovely fluffy fics (that honestly make my days brighter) with us, hope you enjoy <3

You woke up with a headache, sighting as you shut your eyes close again, the brightness coming from the large castle windows causing you to wince. You had felt the signs, the sore throat, the mild headaches and stomach pain, you were well aware you were getting sick but you honestly hoped your body would hold at least after your special day to break down.

Hopes be damned, it was your birthday and you felt like shit, actually, no, you felt like you had been run over by a truck, which was slightly worse. You took your wand out and cast a spell to muffle the sounds of the already waking castle, especially the sound of your roommates, whom you adored but were too loud for your sick mind to tolerate. You grabbed your pillow and placed it over your head, groaning from how uncomfortable and sore you felt, you’d hoped the pillow would at least muffle the sound a little, no such luck, since just minutes after Mal was popping her head through your curtains and looking at you with brows furrowed in concern.

“You all right luv?”

You shook your head in response finally lowering down the pillow from your face, “feel like shit,” you admitted. “Remember I mentioned my throat was feeling funny?” Mal nodded “Well, it looks like it finally decided to give in.” And it really did, it felt like sandpaper every time you said a word.

“Hold up a sec,” she said and pulled her head out “Hey Sage, do you still have those lemon caught drops we made in potions last month?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Sweet!” she said, you heard her step away and the rest of the conversation was toned out by your charm, after less than a minute later, Mal popped her head back in, small cystal jar in her hands “There you go love,” she said with a smile “Happy Birthday!”

You chuckled and took the jar from her hands, cranking it open and placing one of the yellow candies in your mouth “Thanks!” you said with a smile.

From the other side, Sage popped her head “Happy birthday sweetheart,” she said with a smile.

You smiled at the two girls, shaking your head as you continued to suck on the candy, it was nice to know you had them in your life. You then heard the door creak open and another girl poped her head next to Mal “Hey luv, Happy Birthday!” she said, and then waved her hand, a tower of pancakes with a candle on top appeared on the side of your bed, you sat up, smiling wildly, and completly ignoring the headache and soreness.

“This is– Thank you girls…” you said, looking at them with a grateful smile, making room for them to sit on the bed.

“Only the best for our best girl,” Eryn said with a wink as she sat on the edge.

“She’s feelin’ sick thought,” Sage added, with a small pout.

“The cough drops–“

“–we’ve already given them to her,” interrupted Mal “How’s the throat?”

“Much better,” you said honestly, the caught drops really were doing their magic “The headache and the soreness is still there, unfortunately.”

Sage pouted now, looking at you with a bit of a frown as you munched on your pancakes “Eating will make you feel better. You can skip breakfast if you want.”

“Oh no, she can’t,” Eryn said shaking her head. “There’s a certain someone waiting for her just outside. And he looked just about to pick up a fight with the eagle for not letting him in.”

You opened your eyes in shock “Don’t tell me it’s…”

“Yup,” Eryn said with a smile “he might bring the door down if you don’t actually get out.”

You shook your head in disbelief but nodded “I better hurry then.”

“You sure luv?” Sage asked “We can tell him to screw off and come back when you’re feeling better.”

You shook your head “I’ll just pass by Pomfrey before class or something,” you said with a smile and the three girls nodded, they were already wearing their uniforms, blue ties shining over their crisp white shirt.

“You done?” Mal asked, pointing at your plate, you nodded and she vanished it right after. You looked at her surprised “I’ve been practicing evanesco lately.”

You nodded and made an O in between your thumb and finger to indicate it’d been a fantastic casting. She nodded excitedly in response and the three girls went back to their respective beds. You stood from your bed, taking a long deep breath as you felt the pain and soreness after moving just a little, and started to slowly put your uniform on.

You struggled so much while attempting to tie the tie with your scrambled mind that you decided to leave it as is, and deal with it later, genuinely worried one of the boys would actually break the door down if you took too long. You grabbed your bag and lousily threw your books and some parchment inside before walking out of your room and towards the entrance of the common room.

The door opened easily and the first thing you spotted was his bright red converses, tapping against the stone floor impatiently. He ran straight to you and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, which you enjoyed as much as it made you squirm, the pain in your muscles being very present. He started to slather soft kisses over your face when you gently pushed him off you. He looked at you with concern, trying to search for what was going on in your eyes.

“I’m sick,” you told him, still trying to move away from his grasp.

“Don’t care,” he said pulling you into a hug again. You shook your head but hid your face on his chest either way

“You’re gonna catch my cold.”

“Will be worth it as long as I can hug my birthday girl,” he said, still hugging you “And kiss her,” he whispered sneakily.

“James!” you whined, It was already hard enough to resist his charm without him actively trying to charm you.

“What’s the plan today?”

“Class, probably,” you said with a shrug and went back to look at your tie, attempting to tie it by yourself, only to groan and let it hang over your neck either way.

James frowned “You have a headache, don’t you?” You nodded as you leaned into his chest, not bothering to answer.

“And my whole body aches, I’m more sore than that one time we fell off the broom.”

James winced, remembering how bad that time had been “Moony should have something to help, let’s go!” He said, grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him.

“Where are we going?” You asked as you allowed him to pull you along.

“Gryffindor common rooms,” he said as he sneaked the two of you behind a statue.

“Your portrait’s not gonna let me in.”

James stopped and turned to you, taking your tie in between his hands and gently pulling it off your shoulders, it slid right off easily. He placed it in his pocket and took off his own, placing it over your head and accommodating the neck of your shirt with ease.

“The tie wasn’t the only…” you started, but he was already taking off his vest and putting it over your head. “But what about the…” With a swish of his wand, your robes turned wine red instead of blue. You started at the boy in disbelief “Could’ve just charmed my entire uniform instead…”

He shrugged “Maybe, but you look too cute in my clothes, there was no chance I passed the opportunity up.” You smiled and shook your head at his antics, he placed his hand over yours again and started dragging the two of you through the passageways until you were just outside of his common room. You stood beside him with an awkward smile as he told the lady the password. You swore she threw you a look, but instead of saying anything she just smiled, as if she knew something that you didn’t, and allowed the two of you to come inside.

You noticed some stares on James, but no one dared to say a thing as he pulled you along the stairs and towards his room, when he opened the door you spotted your two other boyfriends inside, Sirius was buttoning up his shirt and Remus was lacing up his boots.

“Happy birthday dove,” he said when he spotted you, finishing the bow he was working on and walking towards you in three long strides, he placed a hand on the top of your head, letting it gently fall down as he brought your forehead to his lips “what brings you here?”

“James,” you joked, you saw Sirius finish up his buttoning and he ran up to you, planting a kiss right on your lips, but you pushed him off with a worried expression and attempted to wipe his face with the sleeve of your hand.

“What’s with her?” Sirius asked when he finally managed to get your arm off his face.

“Says she’s sick,” responded James.

“I AM sick!” you said “I had a cough drop in the morning, my head is dizzy and everything hurts. That’s why James brought me here.”

“I should have something to lift your spirits,” Remus said thoughtfully as he moved towards his desk and started rummaging through his medicine cabinet.

Sirius pouted “Does that mean you won’t kiss me today?”

“Well, I don’t want you to get sick too.”

“But it’s your birthday,” he argued “You should get all the kisses in the world.”

“Not at the expense of my boyfriends getting sick.”

Remus came over again, handing you a small potion “Should help with the pain and headache,” he said as he handed it over to you.

You took it in one go, “How long will it take for it to… oh.”

“Yeah,” Remus nodded with a smile “Pomfrey gave me the recipe for that time of the month, it’s great innit?”

You nodded in response and Sirius inched closer “Does that mean I can kiss you now.”

“Not because I don’t feel sick does it mean I’m not,” you scolded.

“What if we take something to stop us from getting your cold?”

“Is there such a potion?” James asked.

“‘Course there is, isn’t there Moony?” Sirius said looking straight at the boy in question, who quickly deciphered Sirius’ intentions and nodded “Yeah, yeah… I’ve got some in my closet.”

You narrowed your eyes at the boys, you knew of no such potion, but your head was a bit too cloudy to argue, and Remus was better at potions than you were anyway so you decided to trust them in this one.

Remus grabbed a small potion and they divided it between the three. Sirius smiled and brought you close to his face “Wicked! Now do I get to slather you with kisses?”

You looked at the boy, his curls falling beautifully at the side of his head, there was a slight blush on your cheeks as you nodded, but you weren’t quite sure if the blush was because of Sirius’ beautiful face, his adoring eyes, or because you were getting a fever, or perhaps all three.

He leaned in and placed a kiss on your eye “Happy birthday love,” he said and pressed a kiss on your other eye “Happy birthday,” he said and then pressed another kiss, this time on your cheek “Happy birthday...”

And he would’ve gone on, but James stopped him, removing the boy from your face, which earned him a glare “All right, that’s enough, you’re hogging her!”

“We should get to class,” you said as you grabbed Remus’ wrist and brought it closer to your face to check the time on his watch. It was something you did rather often, and Remus enjoyed it a lot more than he let on. There was nothing like the soft touch of your hands over his wrist, over anywhere on his body, if he was honest.

“Should we?” asked James as he placed a hand on your forehead “I don’t know sweetheart, it seems to me like you’re a bit too sick for class.”

You looked at him in disbelief “Too sick for class but not too sick to kiss you?”

“Hey I don’t make the rules,” he said raising his hand with a diverted smile “What do you think Pads? Does she look well enough for class?”

The boy in question placed a hand on your cheek, and looked at you attentively “Now that you mention it Prongs,” he said slowly “Our lovely Kquill does look a bit pale, doesn’t she?”

You took his hand off your face and turned to Remus, hoping he’d be the only sensible person left “Come on Rem, you know we have to go to class don’t you?”

He tilted his head “How many classes have you missed this year Sweetheart?”

“I…uh-“

“–She hasn’t missed any,” James said, very sure of his answer.

“I have.”

“Really? Which one?”

“I… I missed History of Magic last month.”

“And what else?” asked Sirius, stepping closer now.

You looked to the side “No-nothing else.”

“Then, my love,” Remus started “I think it’s best if you stay and rest. You said it yourself, just because you don’t feel sick anymore it doesn’t mean you’re not.”

James smiled and placed his hand over your shoulders “There we go sweets, Doctor Moony’s orders. You’re stayin’”

“What, you mean here?”

Sirius nodded, and with a wave of his wand both his bed and Remus were next to each other, making a huge one, another wave and there was soft rock playing in the background.

You raised your eyebrows “There we go luv, we can chill and listen to some of your favourite tunes,” he said with a smile “Your mixtape’s on.”

You still looked at the boy in disbelief, and then you heard a knock on their window. James frowned but approached it either way, an owl was waiting there, with a letter on its beak. James grabbed it and took a treat out of his pocket to feed the owl who hooted merrily before leaving, “It’s for you,” he said, walking towards you again.

“For me?” You asked confused.

“Yeah, go ahead, sit on the bed, you can read there more comfortably,” he added and held the letter between his hands as you tried to reach for it “Sit on the bed, I’ll bring it over,” he insisted.

You rolled your eyes and did as told “May I have my letter now?”

James nodded and handed it over, you looked at it and a smile grew on your face as you read the envelope “Oh! It’s from my brother!” you said as you unfolded it and started reading its contents. He was wishing you a very happy birthday, telling you how much he loved you but not to let it go to your head, and he also told you to kick Sirius in the balls if he kept trying funny things.

“What’s with the hate?” the boy said as he read the letter from over your head. You laughed, your brother had been the one to leave you at the station that summer, and he had seen Sirius approach and hug you from behind. But then he’d also seen the boy dig his head into your neck and give you a whiff, long story short, he thought Sirius was weird and that you should stay away from him. Of course, he had no clue Sirius was an animagus, and a dog no less.

You shrugged “He’s crazy let him be.”

“I just hope he doesn’t actually kick me on the balls next time we meet.”

“Don’t be so dramatic Puppy,” you told him as you ruffled his hair, he let his entire head fall over your lap then, looking at you contently. What a twat, you thought looking straight into his eyes and charming smile as you continued playing with his hair. Your brother had also left a couple of galleons on the letter, for you to buy yourself something next time you went to Hogmeade. Which is why you stopped playing with Sirius’ hair and left the letter on the table, the boy complaining just seconds afterwards.

James and Remus joined the two on the bed eventually and chilled for a while, Remus took out a book and you asked him to read out loud for you to listen, and he did, he was reading Peter Pan, and the story put you in a surprisingly good mood, even if you were in that place between sleep an awake as his soft and yet deep voice gently soothed you to sleep.

When you woke up the lights were off, you heard a couple of whispers coming from the door and you felt Sirius shift, you wondered how you’d ended up leaning on his chest but then you heard Remus whisper a spell and suddenly a bunch of candles had turned on and he and James were approaching you with the cake on his hands. You smiled, at their silly antics, the three of them started singing Happy Birthday.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear–“ they started. But the three of them said their own pet names to you which is why it turned into a completely uneven choir of “dove”, “Love of my life” and “Kquil”. Which obviously had you giggling.

“Come on make a wish,” James said once the cake was close enough.

You stared at him, taking a deep breath and leaning in to blow the candles, closing your eyes as you made your wish, more of this, you thought, more of them.

“Can we turn on the lights?”

James shook his head “We certainly can’t.”

“But I want to see the cake!” you said, “Where did you get it?”

“James made it sweetheart,” Sirius informed “That’s why he doesn’t want you to see it.”

You smiled at that and fetched your wand from the bed, using it to turn the light on and look at the cake, you smiled, they had used your favourite colour for the cover, and it was lopsided and uneven, with a “Happy Birthday Kquil” written with white on top. That was definitely Sirius’ handwriting, you could tell since it was the neatest part of the cake. You wonder how he could write it if you had been laying on his chest, but perhaps it was one of those mysteries you would never decipher.

“I love it,” you said honestly, as you dipped your finger in the soft buttercream and threw it in your mouth “Did you put flavouring on it?”

James smiled and nodded “It was Remus’s idea, to use extract of your favourite fruit.”

You smiled at the three boys, “Now give it a bite!” Sirius said, still from behind.

“What?” you asked in disbelief “Aren’t er gonna cut it?”

“Nah, it’s just for us,” James said “We brought spoons and we’ll eat it straight from the plate.

“That’s ridiculous!”

“It’s economic,” said Remus “less dishwashing.”

You gasped “You don’t do the dishwashing, Remus! The elves do.”

He shrugged “Yeah, less work for them, isn’t that better?”

You scoffed but smiled, “Fine then, with spoons it is.”

“But you still have to bite,” James insisted.

“What for?” You asked him.

“Cause it’s your birthday,” Sirius responded, “go ahead, give it a bite.”

You rolled your eyes but finally leaned into the cake, close enough to give it a small bite, and then you felt a hand push your head into the cake, you sprang back out with a gasp completely surprised and feeling a little betrayed by the boys.

“What the hell was that?”

“A tradition we read about in an old book,” James said with a shrug “They say is for good luck.”

“Good luck my ass,” you said as you started to wipe the buttercream with your hands, until you an idea popped into your head, with your hands filled with the creamy thing and them looking at you diverted and completely unassuming, you extended your hands towards both Sirius and James’ faces, successfully slathering with the meringue.

“How dare you?” James gasped with an amused expression.

“I’m just sharing the luck,” you said with a shrug and a small, innocent-looking smile.

Sirius was cleaning his face and hair, who’d also been the victim of the buttercream slathering, “Why is it that only me and James that got this mistreatment?”

You shrugged “Something tells me it was your idea,” you said as you shrugged and grabbed some of the cream from your face and dipped it in your mouth. Remus took his wand, and with a short spell vanished all the cream from your faces.

“Can we eat now?” he asked with a smile, handing everyone their own spoon. The cake might have been a little lacking on the decoration part, but the taste was so on point you asked James three times if he really had baked it himself.

“He did! I saw him!” Sirius said, “He was carefully measuring the ingredients and all.”

Maybe it’s the potioneer in him, you thought as you continued enjoying the cake, the rest of the night went on in fits of laughter and singing along to your favourite song, talking with the boys and in general just passing the time with them. It was absolutely lovely, even your sick birthday had been one of your best birthdays.

Later that week you figured the boys had lied to you and that the “contagion prevention” potion didn’t actually exist. You smacked them playfully but took soup up to their room several times. You still had James’ tie, and the lady from the portrait seemed to always be willing to let you in.

“Go take care of your boys,” she told you one time with the same enigmatic smile as the one on your birthday.

A/N: Hope you like this little thing sweetheart, and I hope it makes you feel better, even if it’s just a lil wee bit. It sucks to be sick on your birthday, but I’m sure you’ll be back up in no time, enjoying time with friends and loved ones, lysm.

PS. Sorry is there are any spelling mistakes, I really wanted to get this out and ready for you to read and I couldn’t spell check like usually…

429 notes · View notes

highwayorgantrade · 9 months

Text

Safe House

Pairing: Female Reader! X Soap

Request: Nooo

Summary: Oh no! A bunch of soldiers posted up in your farmhouse bed and breakfast?? Whatever shall you do!! Should you fuck them??

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Overstimulation, begging, volume (keep quiet), unprotected sex, cervix kissing

Author's note: Okay listen y'all I did not plan on doing this whatsoever. I was in the middle of writing a Graves thing when I got this idea and I knew I just had to get that damn little brain worm out before it ruined my life further. This is gonna be a series!!!!!

The mission had gone wrong. Oh, so horribly wrong. 141 thought they were smart by teaming up with Los Vaqueros again to take down a trafficking ring - “Positive international relations,” Price had called it. “We even got imported muscle.” He grinned, referring to the 6’10” man they had called in, after hearing of his ability to do his job and keep his mouth shut.

However, the ring had decided on the same tactic, bringing in a nearby cartel to defend their location. Quickly, way too quickly, the group was overwhelmed, frantically phoning in to Laswell for extraction.

“Don’t worry,” She sighed, after directing the seven men to a relatively safe area, the black-tinted SUV already flying gravel. “I have a friend.”

You had just so happened to be the friend. Well, the relative was more accurate, being her sister-in-law. You knew what she did for work, but you never thought she would call on you for help with it.

“Please, (Y/N), it’ll only be for a few days, I swear. A week, tops.” She called you early one November morning. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” And you knew she wouldn’t. The fact was simple: You had lived relatively nearby, and the bed and breakfast you operated and lived in certainly had the facilities to house eight people, and it so happened to be the off-season.

You were eager to accept, happy to help your sister, and it would be nice to have some muscle with the chores that needed done around the property. When the SUV pulled up, you quickly regretted your decision. You had expected a house full of military boys, tearing around like a pack of dogs, but out stepped six of the most attractive men you have ever seen, all completely different, but equally as handsome and rugged. Two were masked, but Christ, were they big anyway. As they loaded packs out of the van, you stepped into the grass, the cold air causing you to draw your cardigan tighter around yourself. When you approached, you kept a safe distance - partly because you didn’t know them, but also because you were afraid that if you got too close, you’d get lost in the intricacies of their faces.

“Hey!” You spoke finally, the rustling of the dying leaves nearly drowning you out. “I’m (Y/N), I hope the trip out wasn’t too awful!” You internally cringed at yourself for giving them the usual spiel you reserved for guests, but continued anyway. “Come on in, all the rooms are pretty much the same, but you can pick, so… that’s something.”

“Ay, don’t worry lass, better by miles than where we’ve been.” One of them finally spoke, casting a friendly grin your way, and you turned quickly to hide the burning on your cheeks.

You were proud of the way your property looked, hidden well off the road in a small forested area, the whole thing had kind of an eclectic feel to it, but you still felt kind of strange leading them into the common area.

“Okay!” You clasped your hands together, and tried to remember that you were only a housing opportunity - they had more important things to focus on. “Well, uh, I’ll stay out of your way as much as I can, but you might see me flitting about here and there. What’s mine is yours.” Some nodded their thanks, others were making quick work of checking their bags for God knows what, and one, the one in a skull mask, merely stared down at you, his large arms crossed on his chest.

Okay… You took that as your cue to leave, and you quickly stepped out the back door, hoping to make progress on your chores before the sun set.

The frigid air felt nearly unbearable compared to how hot you were burning in their presence - you didn’t even realize that you were slightly sweating. With a sigh, you reminded yourself of your responsibilities. Repaint the gazebo, refill and hang the bird feeders, and fix the greenery so everything is in full bloom by summer. Leaves crunched under your step as the half-painted gazebo came into view. You could hear voices coming from your house, a few with different accents, mostly British, but you could pick out a Scottish, a vaguely German, and a couple Spanish lilts. A booming laugh echoed, and you relaxed your tense shoulders at the sound.

“Don’t make me regret this, Kate.” You mumbled as you settled into the grass and popped open a paint can.

She was pretty. It was the first thing Soap had noticed. It looked like she belonged here, in the woods, with the wind blowing her hair and birds singing in her presence. No doubt she kept them well-fed. He had barely listened when she spoke - he was much too focused on how her sweater wrapped tightly around her body, or how her eyes seemed to physically sparkle with curiosity. She had said something, Soap had no idea, but he responded anyway. Something about the drive? The rooms?

“Ay, don’t worry lass, better by miles than where we’ve been.” He answered, stabbing that it was an appropriate response. The way she averted her eyes and a hint of a smile played at the edges of her lips told him that he was successful. When she turned around to lead them into the safehouse, Price gave him a nudge and shook his head ‘no.’ No fucking Kate’s pretty little sister? Might as well ask him to walk on fucking water, next.

She had promised to make herself scarce, and Soap was silently thankful. He didn’t want this woman caught up in what they were doing, and he didn’t want her to know something that could get her in trouble - Laswell would never forgive them. When she left, Alejandro was the first to speak.

“Nobody talk to me about this mission tonight.” He grumbled, and Soap recognized that as a request long ago, based on the way his jaw was clenched nearly the entire drive to the location, muttering what Soap assumed to be expletives every so often. He trudged up the stairs with his bag, Rudy trailing not far behind.

“Right, then.” Ghost spoke, rolling his shoulders and pulling out a map of the enemy facility and laying it on the wood table, and Soap nearly laughed at how out of place it looked. “If they’ve gotten support from that gang, it eliminates them from support from anyone else, and makes them a target to others, not just us.”

“We need to get to them first.” Konig’s hand landed on the map, gesturing vaguely at an entrance. “This was lightly guarded.” Soap stared at the location, before his eyes flitted out the window to see you approaching a gazebo outside, and he itched to get this out of the way.

“Aye, they might reinforce that entrance since they know it’s weak now. Leaves somewhere else open to vulnerability.” Soap strategized, his eyes lingering on how your hands ran through your hair, and JESUS, how did it still look perfect after that? A light thump on the back of his head pulled him out of his thoughts, and he looked back to see Gaz with a raised eyebrow, the corners of his mouth turning upwards.

“No-go, mate. Red zone. Laswell would have your head on a stick.”

“Might be worth it.” Ghost chimed in, following his gaze to the woman.

Price pointed a warning finger to Ghost, his face stony.

“Ghost, stop instigating. Gaz, leave Soap alone. Konig…” He took a breath, considering the man had nothing to do with their antics. “Good job. Soap, I wish I had control over who a soldier decides to sleep with, but I don’t.”

“That girl in Ibiza left a bad taste in your mouth, Cap?” Soap retorted, recalling one of his more infamous hook-ups, and Price laughed loudly.

“Lesson for the inexperienced,” Ghost turned to Konig. “Remember your date’s name or she will throw a knife at you.” Konig shook his head at this, and slung his bag over his shoulder, ready to call it a day.

“Sounds like my kind of woman.”

Soap had already tuned the ribbing out, and when Ghost packed up the plans, he was already tracing your path, walking out the back door to meet you.

A rustling of leaves caused your head to perk up, and you turned to see the one who had spoken to you earlier, a small smile on his face.

“Need any help?” He tilted his head at the gazebo. “More hands make less work ‘n all.” You looked back at your work, having made minimal progress since you began.

“Oh! Yeah, sure. If you want.” You responded, pulling the paint tray out in front of you so he could take the spare paintbrush. A moment of silence passed before he spoke again.

“I’m Johnny. Most of the guys call me Soap, though.”

Soap? The nickname seemed to come out of nowhere, and you crinkled your nose at this.

“Why do they call you that? You shower more than everyone else or something?” He laughed at this, reaching up to cover the underside of a railing in white paint, and you fought to keep your eyes from lingering on his arms.

“Good at cleaning house, love.” Soap corrected you, your lips pursing at the nickname. “How long have you had this place?”

You shrugged, simply happy that he was making conversation with you.

“Coupl’a years. Since I was twenty. Bought it as a dump and flipped it.” He makes a noise of approval and takes a deep breath.

“Your, uh, boyfriend live here with you, does he?” At this, you can’t help but allow a laugh to tear through you, both in recognition of what Soap was doing, and out of pure shock that he was doing it.

“Not sure where my boyfriend lives, I haven’t met him yet. Let me know if you find him, though, yeah?” Soap shook his head.

“I don’t think I will, but thank you for the offer.”

The back and forth with Soap left your head reeling, and you considered your options as you painted in silence. Kate would kill you if she found out, but she doesn’t need to find out. It has been terribly long since you’ve even been on a date, or even had sex for that matter, and Soap certainly isn’t the worst looking man in the world. He clearly had a great body, and you delved down the rabbit hole of how his arms would look pinning your arms above your head, his battle-worn dog tag trailing cold electricity down your chest.

A flash of yellow light pulled you out of your musings, and a firefly landed on your knee. You took a deep breath and turned to Soap, his attention garnered by your sudden movement of waving the small bug away.

“Do you wanna have a drink tonight? With me?” Your face was comically serious, and Soap let out a soft chuckle as he replaced the lid on the paint, taking the brush from your hand.

“Aye.” He stood, sighing a bit at the noise his knees made, and handed you the paint tray.

“I’ll, uh, go put this up and meet you inside.” You offered him a small smile, and his head tilted at you, trying to hide his own.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Soap had to stop himself from running back into the house. Giddiness coursed through him, and he burst through the door to see Gaz, Ghost, and Konig sat in various places around the living room, the TV tuned in to the local news.

“Get the fuck out.” He stated simply, his eyes wide and a dumb grin on his face.

“Pardon?” Ghost barely spared him a glance, and Konig automatically stood, silently confused as to where he was supposed to go. Gaz merely stared up at him.

“I said,” Soap wrapped his hand around Ghost’s bicep and pulled, forcing the man to stand, and Gaz followed. “Get the fuck out.”

“You sendin’ us to bed, then, eh?”

Soap picked up Ghost’s bag for him, and shoved it into his chest, nearly pushing the men up the stairs.

“I am.” He turned to Gaz, his mouth already open to protest, and pointed a finger in his face. “If you fuck this up for me, I will end you.”

The second the three men shut the door to their respective rooms, you stepped back into the house, locking the backdoor behind you.

I raised an eyebrow at the television, and grinned at Soap.

“Did you turn on the news?” I ask, grabbing two glasses and a bottle of wine from cabinets, pouring us both a fairly full glass.

“Yeah, it’s a new form of foreplay.” He laughed, taking a sip. “Learnin’ that we world is shite.”

“Oh, so foreplay is important to you?” And that question was your first step. He glanced at you from across the kitchen island, and you could just see the gears in his mind turning, figuring out the best way to get himself into your bed. Honestly, he could have asked to bend you dead over the kitchen counter, his large hand pulling your hair as leverage as he thrusted into you from behind.

But your imagination always runs wild.

“Mm. ‘S very important.” You cocked your head at his answer, and he shrugged. “I prefer to have a girl simply beggin’ before I even think of finishing.” He took a step around the island, not quite in front of you, but leaning on the side. You sipped your wine again, trying to cover your reaction to his answer, but there was no wine glass big enough to cover how you pressed your legs together, one hand gripping the counter with slightly more force than necessary.

“How do you do that?” It was an effort to keep your tone even , trying not to show how badly he was affecting you.

“Eh.” He set his wine glass down, finger lightly circling the base of the stem. “Usually have ‘em coming a few times before I get my own.”

Holy fuck. You needed Soap, and you needed him bad.

“Ah, so only good reviews then?” Damnit, why is your voice suddenly higher? You cleared your throat to try to get it to return to normal, and the fucking bastard smirked at you.

“So far. Tell me, love.” That damn nickname again. “When was the last time you were fucked?” You opened your mouth to answer, but it didn’t matter as Soap began talking again. “Ah, lemme revise that. When was the last time you were properly fucked? The last time someone had you cryin’, had you just stupid on their cock?”

You were buzzing, shaking slightly at Soap’s vulgar words. His accent got lower, rougher as he spoke, and you could feel your arousal tying a knot in your throat.He simply stared at you, waiting for your answer with a dumb smile on his face, like he already knew.

“Oh, no, don’t tell me…” He began, in mock sympathy. “Never?” You shook your head at him, not wanting to tell him the truth.

In all reality, you’ve never orgasmed with someone else. It was all only you, and you learned quickly not to say this, as all men would try to be the first. Then you’d end the night by lying, and they would go with their egos inflated.

You both stood, the tension in the kitchen more than you could bear, and just as you were about to dismiss yourself for the night, Soap wrapped a hand around your forearm - Not tightly enough to worry you, but just enough so you looked up at him, your faces inches from each other.

“Love, I don’t like to, uh, think I’m all that, y’know?” He cleared his throat. “But I’d like to try. Show some thanks to our host.”

In one last attempt at quieting down your own perverse thoughts, you set your wine glass down, and looked at the floor.

“Ah, you don’t need to thank me Soap.”

“I absolutely do,” He responded immediately. “I really do need to. Nothin’ better than a pretty face while I work.”

You bite the inside of your lip, considering all the ways this could go bad. Every single one was overrun with the way Soap was searching your eyes, silently pleading for you. With a purse of your lips, you poured the rest of your wine down the sink, and smiled.

“Absolutely.”

You barely got the words out before Soap wrapped his arm around your waist and lifted, slinging you over his shoulder and making his way up the stairs, searching for any room that didn’t look like it was already occupied.

“Mine’s on the other end.” You breathed in an effort not to laugh at his eagerness, and he turned on his heels toward a door that was differently painted than the rest. He placed a hand over your head, protecting you from a bump as he ducked through the doorframe, and less-than-gently set you on your bed, locking the door behind him.

When he turned, you didn’t see the sweet man offering to help you with painting, you saw a soldier. A soldier tuned into your every breath, every movement, and every thought. He kneeled in front of the bed, between your legs, and began planting lighter than air kisses on your ankle, untying your shoes and setting them to the side haphazardly.

“Red means stop.” He whispered against your skin, traveling upward to your knee. “Yellow is slow down, green is good. Repeat it.”

“Red is-“ You were cut off by your own gasp as he delivered a light bite to the inside of your thigh before kissing it again, and you could feel him smile against you. “Red is stop. Yellow is slow. Green is good.”

“And where are we now?” He breathed against the spot right where your thigh met your most sensitive area, and you felt your stomach jump.

“Green. So, so green.” A whimper escaped you, and Soap tsked, like he was about to scold you.

“Stay quiet, lass.” Teased Soap, as he slid your shorts down, along with your underwear, and he whistled lowly. “A Chriosd ann an ifrinn, seall ort, a nighean bhòidheach.” And with that, he licked one long, thick strip up your cunt, dipping down to tease your hole with his tongue. Soap was eating you out like a man starved, and you were obsessed.

Light, breathy moans left you, ever so aware of how quiet everything else was.

“Tell me what feels good, love.” He punctuated his command with a nip to your thigh, pulling your mind out of the pleasure-induced haze. His tongue traveled through your folds, eyes trained on you to see your reaction to his ministrations. Soap’s lips wrap around your clit, fingers toying with your soaking entrance, and it felt like all rational thought had left you. You didn’t care about who exactly was between your legs, nor if his team could hear your desperate mewls.

The pressure inside you was building, and your movement was strange - trying to wriggle away from the incessant barrage against your clit, and trying to grind impossibly closer to Soap’s lips, and by his huff, it was clear he had enough of that. One large arm wrapped around a thigh, his other pressing down on your abdomen, and the only noise Soap could muster was a few low groans as he continued devouring you.

The knot inside you was getting tighter and tighter, and it felt like it was going to snap any second. A split moment of panic ran through you as your back arched off the bed, Begs and cries tumbling out of your lips before you could think of them.

“Soap, please, please.” You cried, hands aching from gripping the sheets. “Please don’t stop, please…” Staying true to your direction, Soap was unrelenting against you, the combination of his sucking, biting, and licking at your clit had dizzy spots appearing in your vision. With one hard push on your abdomen, and a particularly slow drag of his tongue at your entrance, you felt that snap, and you finally understood why it was called the Little Death.

Your mind had gone completely blank, mouth open in a silent scream, and your thighs clamped around either side of Soap’s head, where he still had yet to stop drinking you. It felt like your heart had even stopped beating, until the pounding was heard in your ears. As Soap continued, you felt your body lurch upwards, fingers tangling in Soap’s hair until he finally looked up at you, his hand coming back to slide a finger into you.The sudden intrusion forced a gasp from you, and he gently kissed your thigh, where you noticed the ache that predates a bruise.

“How we doin’, love? We okay?” His voice was impossibly sweet, a complete 180 to how he just made you feel. You nodded, despite feeling like every single sense in your body had been blown out. His finger continued sliding in and out of you, your walls pulsing around him.

“Green.” You confirmed breathily, and he smiled a wolfish grin before adding a second digit into you, his pace quickening. A quick flash of aggravation and desperation coursed through you, and you knew how to get exactly what you wanted.

You looked down at him, eyebrows upturned in a pleading look, and your doe-eyes were working overtime.

“Please, Soap, just fuck me.” You said, voice higher and more gentle than you thought it would come out, and he groaned, rolling his head against your leg. His fingers took on a ‘come here’ motion, and your eyes rolled in the back of your head at the feeling.

“Ah, I know what you want. You want these…” Soap planted a kiss on your thighs, interrupting his own speech. “God, these pretty thighs pinned behind your head, taking me so well, takin’ me so good.” He looked absolutely pussydrunk, his eyes darting between your eyes and his fingers, tsking and offering a slight noise of false sympathy when a tear rolled down your cheek. Your walls pulsed around his fingers, and you could feel that fire building inside of you again. “Christ, love, you wanna come again, huh?” You nodded furiously at his question, one hand coming up to absentmindedly play with your tits. A bright look crossed Soap’s face, and while his hands continued, his mouth met your hands.

His lips wrapped around your nipple, and before you could think, he bit down - the orgasm that crashed through you was stronger than the last, and the muscles in your thighs screamed from being clenched so tightly. You felt his fingers work their way out of your pussy, hissing at the feeling of your walls clenching around nothing.

“You want me to fuck you now, pretty thing?” His face was almost smug as he climbed up on the bed, one hand going to your lower back to effortlessly raise you, and he peppered light kisses on your sweat-covered face. Of course you want him, how could you not? Your body was buzzing with the aftershocks of two orgasms, and here he was, lining himself up with you.

“God, yes, please.” You breathed, hands coming to rest on his back. Soap brought his lips down next to your ear, sending another shock straight to your core.

“Beg better.” He punctuated his command by rubbing his cock through your folds, and you twitched when the head ground against your already sensitive clit. Beg better? Fuck you, Soap.

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you and, hopefully, how serious you looked.

“Fuck me, Soap. Now.”

The simple instruction was all it took for him to push inside you, and it was like it activated something in him - Soap simply could not shut up.

“Ach, mo Dhia, tha thu a 'faireachdainn cho foirfe timcheall orm. So perfect.” He planted a kiss to your temple. “So perfect, my pretty girl.”

You brought your lips up to his neck, kissing the curve where it meets his shoulder, and his babbling only continued as his cock dragged against nearly every nerve, your broken moans echoing through your room. God, his slow pace was nearly agonizing, you wanted more, you needed more. It was like Soap read your mind as he paused, hooking your knees above his shoulders, effectively pinning you into the mattress. He flashed you a wicked grin before he began his jackhammer pace, and this new position had him reaching impossibly deep inside you.

A vague, low ache began in your abdomen every time he bottomed out, his head kissing your cervix every single time. The depth combined with his pace, his groaning and endless praise in your ear - it felt like it was all culminating in a perfect storm, one that was threatening to break down every fibre of your being.

“Fuck, Soap, I’m going to-” You interrupted yourself with a low, hoarse groan, your admission only spurring him on as he replaced his hold on your knees with his hands.

“Look at me, love, I wanna see it, I wanna see you.” His stuttering hips told you he was in the same spot as you, and you both were not going to last much longer. “Come for me, pretty girl.” He growled, and that was all it took for you.

Your legs shook uncontrollably as you released around him, and your ending brought his own on. Curses left him lips as he buried himself inside you, collapsing next to you.

“Ach, come ‘ere.” He breathed, reaching his arm out to hook around your waist and pulling you to him, one leg wrapping around his waist. One hand rested on your jaw, planting kisses on your forehead, cheek, anywhere he could get access to. Your body felt numb, and you knew he stayed true to his word - you were fucked absolutely stupid. You wanted to talk, you wanted to ask where this left you? Would you ignore that this happened? Would it recur? Would he tell his team about it? You wanted to ask, and yet you didn’t - The song of crickets and his heartbeat was a lullaby, and one that you couldn’t fight.

The snare of sleep overtook you as your heart rate evened out, and only one thought was on your mind before you gave up the fight for consciousness:

You really fucking hope you don’t regret this.

#mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #call of duty fanfic #cod x reader

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 3 months

Text

Shattered.

adjective ‘very upset’

in which, your trying to live a normal life as much as you can, but when you bump into the handsome doctor again, and realise he’s got questions, questions that you can’t answer and thats when you realise just how much your longing for that perfect fairy tale ending.

word count - 5.6k

authors note - ahhh!! i’m so sorry that the wait for this chapter has been so long, but i’ve got over my writers block now and am so excited to get back to writing for your guys, before we start i would just like to thank the beautiful @missbearforfun for helping me with this story, i honestly would not have been able to do this without them, so mwah!!

warnings - mentions of domestic abuse, hospitals, some mild swearing, corey, and nightmares. (if i’ve missed anything please don’t refrain from letting me know!!)

August 30th, 2022.

As you jogged around the local park, the rhythmic thud of your footsteps echoed against the pavement, accompanied by the familiar melodies of Fleetwood Mac streaming through your headphones. With your water bottle in hand, you embraced the solitude of the early morning, relishing in the peaceful ambiance of the park.

Lost in the music and the rhythm of your steps, you rounded a bend in the path and nearly collided with someone coming from the opposite direction. Startled, you stumbled backward, the sudden interruption jolting you out of your reverie. As your headphones slipped slightly, the sound of the stranger's voice broke through the silence.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" The voice was accompanied by a concerned expression, and as you looked up, you found yourself gazing into the eyes of a man, who looked just that little bit older to you.

His concern was genuine, and there was a warmth in his gaze that immediately put you at ease.

Brushing off the near collision with a sheepish grin, you assured him that you were fine. He lingered for a moment, his easy smile infectious, and before you knew it, you were engaged in conversation.

"Sorry about that, I should've been paying more attention," The man spoke with a chuckle, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"It's okay, no harm done," you replied, returning his smile.

"I'm Corey."

"Nice to meet you, I'm (Y/N)," you replied, returning his smile.

As the conversation continued, Corey's easygoing charm put you at ease.

"So, do you come here often?" he asked, his tone playful.

"Yeah, I try to jog here a few times a week. It's a great way to clear my head," you explained, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence.

Corey nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I totally get that. There's something about being outdoors that's really refreshing."

Before parting ways, Corey hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "Hey, I know this is perhaps a bit forward, but would you be interested in going for a jog together sometime?"

A smile spread across your face at the invitation.

"I'd like that."

February 4th, 2024.

Standing behind the counter at the cafe where you work, you felt a dull ache resonate through your body with every breath you took in. Corey's words from a few days ago echoed in your mind, urging you to discharge yourself from the hospital, convinced that you were wasting the doctors' time.

Now, as you struggled through the pain, you couldn't help but wonder if he was right.

He usually was.

Your hair was tied up in a high ponytail, a practical choice to keep it out of the way as you worked. The familiar routine of wiping down the coffee machine provided a small distraction from the discomfort that gnawed at you.

Despite the bustling atmosphere of the cafe, you felt isolated in your pain. Corey's presence loomed large in your mind, his words echoing like a relentless refrain. The memory of what he had done last night weighed heavily on your heart, casting a shadow over even the simplest of tasks.

"There’s no reason for you to be here," Corey insisted, his voice dripping with irritation. "The doctors have better things to do than waste their time on someone who doesn't need to be here."

You winced as his fingers dug into your shoulders, his nails leaving angry red marks that threatened to break the skin. The pain in your ribs intensified with each shallow breath, a relentless reminder of the trauma you endured.

But Corey's words cut deeper than any physical wound, adding a layer of guilt and self-doubt to your already overwhelming emotions.

"B-but I'm in pain," you protested weakly, your voice barely above a whisper, your stutter more pronounced in the face of his anger.

Corey's impatience only seemed to grow as he dismissed your concerns with a wave of his hand. "You're fine. It's probably just a bruise or something. You don't need to be taking up a hospital bed for that."

As he spoke, you felt a familiar sense of unease settle over you. It wasn't the first time Corey had minimized your pain and dismissed your need for medical attention. With each passing moment, the weight of his words bore down on you, chipping away at your already fragile sense of self-worth.

Despite the doubts that gnawed at you, a part of you couldn't help but wonder if Corey was right. Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe you were wasting the doctors' time. But deep down, beneath the layers of doubt and fear, you knew that your pain was real, and that you deserved to be heard.

"Please, Corey," you pleaded, your voice shaking with emotion. "I-I need to stay here. I-I need help."

But Corey's patience had worn thin, his frustration boiling over into anger.

"You're being ridiculous," he snapped, his grip on your shoulders tightening. "Get up and leave. Now."

As tears welled up in your eyes, you felt a sense of helplessness wash over you. Trapped between the pain in your body and the cruelty of Corey's words, you struggled to find the strength to stand up for yourself.

Just over a year ago, you were looking for a way to get some money into your bank account, and there was this little cafe on a road called Canal Street, that you had noticed was hiring.

Your heart fluttered with nervous excitement as you hesitated at the threshold, unsure if you had the courage to step inside. Pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, you took a deep breath and entered, the chime of the bell announcing your arrival.

Inside, you were greeted by the sight of a cozy interior, filled with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversation. Your nerves danced beneath the surface as you approached the counter, where a kind, elderly couple stood, their faces etched with warmth and hospitality.

With hesitant steps, you inquired about the vacant position, your voice barely above a whisper. The woman behind the counter noticed your trembling hands and the uncertainty in your eyes. With a gentle smile, she ushered you to sit down at one of the empty tables, her soft touch calming the jitters that threatened to consume you.

As she reached across to still your shaking hands, her touch was like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

February 6th, 2024.

On this rare sunny day in Manchester, Dr. Styles, known as Harry to his family, strolled leisurely around the duck pond with his six-year-old nephew, Noah.

It was a tradition for Harry to spend Tuesday afternoonswith Noah, (he always picked him up after school and they always did something to tire the young boy out) his designated day off during the week, cherishing these moments of familial connection amidst his demanding schedule.

Thursdays marked his other day of respite, but it was Tuesdays that held a special place in their hearts.

As they ambled along the winding path, Harry watched with fondness as Noah skipped ahead, his youthful exuberance a stark contrast to the calm demeanor of his uncle. The vibrant hues of the surrounding greenery were accentuated by the gentle rays of sunlight filtering through the branches, casting dappled patterns on the ground below.

The tranquil atmosphere of the duck pond enveloped them, the rhythmic quacking of the ducks providing a soothing backdrop to their conversation. Noah's animated chatter filled the air as he regaled Harry with tales of his adventures at school, his innocent enthusiasm infectious.

Harry listened attentively, his heart swelling with pride at the boundless imagination and curiosity of his nephew. Despite the demands of his profession, moments like these served as a reminder of the simple joys in life, grounding him in the present and offering solace amidst the chaos of the world.

As they strolled around the duck pond, Noah's eyes sparkled with excitement as he spotted the ducks gliding gracefully across the water.

"Uncle H, can we feed the ducks?" he asked eagerly, his voice filled with anticipation.

Harry's heart sank as he realized he had forgotten to bring bread for the ducks. With a sigh, he crouched down to Noah's eye level and explained, "M’sorry, buddy, but I forgot to bring bread today. We can't feed the ducks without any bread."

Noah's face fell, disappointment evident in his expression.

"But I really wanted to feed the ducks," he lamented, his lower lip trembling slightly.

Just as Harry was about to offer consolation, Noah's gaze shifted to an elderly couple sitting on a nearby bench, feeding the ducks slices of bread from a small bag.

"Look, Uncle H, they have bread! Can we ask them for a slice?" Noah exclaimed, his excitement returning at the prospect of feeding the ducks.

Harry hesitated, his brow furrowing in uncertainty.

"Noah, buddy, we can't just ask people f’their bread," he began, but before he could finish, Noah was already darting towards the elderly couple, his enthusiasm undeterred.

"Excuse me, can we have some bread to feed the ducks, please? My uncle H forgot!" Noah asked earnestly, his eyes wide with hope as he approached the couple.

The elderly woman smiled kindly at Noah, her eyes twinkling with warmth.

"Of course, dear. Here, take a slice," she said, offering him a piece of bread from the bag.

And just like that Noah was running off towards the water, as Harry kept a watchful eye on the young boy he cared so deeply for.

As Noah happily fed the ducks with the bread he had received from the kind elderly couple, Harry approached them with a grateful smile.

"Thank y’so much f’letting him have some bread. M’sorry about him, he's not shy to ask for anything from anyone," Harry apologized, his tone apologetic yet amused.

The women smiled warmly at Harry's words.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. We're happy to share," she replied kindly, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she watched Noah's delight.

The man who was accompanying her chuckled, his deep voice carrying a sense of camaraderie.

"That's the spirit. Kids have a way of reminding us to embrace life's simple pleasures," he remarked, nodding towards Noah.

Harry found himself drawn into conversation with the couple, their easygoing demeanor putting him at ease.

"M’name's Harry, by the way," he introduced himself, extending a hand in greeting.

"Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Mary, and this is my husband, Barney," Mary replied, shaking Harry's hand with a firm grip. "We've been coming to this duck pond every Tuesday for as long as I can remember."

Barney nodded in agreement.

"It's become a bit of a tradition for us. We find it's the perfect way to spend our day off together," he explained, a fond smile playing on his lips.

As they chatted, Harry learned more about Mary and Barney's life together – their love of nature, their shared interests, and the joy they found in the simple pleasures of everyday life. He found himself opening up to them, sharing stories of his own experiences and adventures with Noah.

"There's something special about being out in nature, isn't there? It's good for the soul," Mary remarked, her gaze wandering across the tranquil expanse of the duck pond.

Harry nodded in agreement, a sense of peace settling over him.

"Absolutely. S’moments like these that make life truly meaningful," he agreed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Talking to the two of them seemed to stop time, and before he knew it, the sun was already starting to set in the background.

As Harry glanced down at the Apple Watch on his wrist, he realized the time had flown by faster than he had anticipated.

He clapped his hands together, a smile tugging at his lips, and said, "Well, I best get going. Noah's got to have his dinner soon."

Mary and Barney nodded understandingly, their faces reflecting the warmth of their earlier conversation.

Just as Harry began to turn away, Mary's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Before you go, young man, I wanted to mention something," Mary said, her tone gentle yet earnest. "Barney and I actually own a café on the corner of Canal Street called Timeless Brews. If you ever find yourself in the area, you're more than welcome to pop by. We'd love to see you."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

"Thank you, Mary. That's incredibly kind of you," he replied gratefully. "I'll definitely make sure to stop by sometime."

Barney chimed in with a hearty chuckle.

"Consider it an open invitation, Harry. We'd be delighted to have you as our guest," he said warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

As Harry bid farewell to Mary and Barney, a sense of gratitude filled his heart.

In just a short time, he had forged a connection with this kindhearted couple, and he couldn't help but feel touched by their generosity. With a final wave, he turned to Noah, who was already bounding ahead, eager to continue their adventure.

As they walked away from the duck pond, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of warmth and camaraderie that lingered in the air. He knew that he had made two new friends today, and he looked forward to the possibility of visiting Timeless Brews and sharing more conversations with Mary and Barney in the future.

From a young age, Harry's fascination with the world of medicine was sparked by a pivotal moment in his childhood. At the tender age of ten, he found himself in the confines of a hospital room, his ankle throbbing with pain after a clumsy fall. As he lay in the hospital bed, surrounded by the reassuring presence of doctors and nurses,

Harry knew with unwavering certainty that he wanted to dedicate his life to helping others in the same way they had helped him.

Driven by this newfound sense of purpose, Harry immersed himself in his studies, excelling academically and setting his sights on a future in medicine. At the age of eighteen, his hard work and dedication paid off when he received the news of his acceptance into Oxford University's prestigious Doctor of Medicine program.

With a heart full of ambition and determination, Harry embarked on this new chapter of his life with unwavering resolve.

Over the course of six intense years, Harry immersed himself in the rigors of medical education, delving deep into the intricacies of the human body and honing his skills as a healer.

With each passing year, he grew more confident in his abilities and more passionate about his chosen field, fueled by a relentless desire to make a difference in the lives of others.

Upon graduating from Oxford at the age of twenty-four, Harry's journey had only just begun. Armed with knowledge, experience, and an unyielding commitment to his calling, he eagerly embraced the opportunity to put his skills to the test in the real world.

Eight months later, he found himself walking the halls of The Manchester Royal Infirmary, a newly minted doctor ready to embark on the next phase of his career.

Now, at the age of twenty-six, Harry finds himself living his dream. He's found fulfillment and purpose in his work, relishing the challenges and rewards that come with each day in the hospital.

Yet, amidst the hustle and bustle of his professional life, there lingers a quiet longing for something more – the perfect partner to share his journey with.

And then, you walked into the hospital – an ethereal presence that captivated Harry from the moment he laid eyes on you. Though he knows he must maintain a professional demeanor, there's an undeniable pull, a spark of connection that ignites within him at the sight of you.

As he goes about his duties, his thoughts drift to you, everything about you, wondering if fate will bring them together once more.

10th February, 2024.

As Harry's shift at the hospital came to an end, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. The late shift, starting at 10:45 pm and ending at 9 am, had been a challenging one.

He had encountered a variety of cases, from a patient with a shard of glass lodged near a femoral artery to a young man suffering from alcohol intoxication who had vomited uncontrollably.

Despite the intensity of these emergencies, Harry had remained calm and composed, providing expert care and ensuring the safety of his patients.

Now, as he made his way out of the hospital, Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of exhaustion creeping in. The long hours had taken their toll, but he knew that his dedication to his profession was unwavering. He looked forward to the weekend ahead, eager to recharge and spend time with loved ones.

As he walked through the hospital corridors, Harry's thoughts turned to his aspirations for advancement within the medical field. He had been diligently working towards a promotion to become the Clinical Lead, a position currently held by Marcus, who was set to retire soon.

Harry knew that achieving this goal would require dedication and perseverance, but he was determined to rise to the challenge.

As Harry made his way towards the exit, he detoured towards the doctor's desk where his colleague Miranda was stationed.

"Hey, M," he greeted her with a tired but friendly smile. "Just wanted t’give y’a heads up about the patient in cubicle five. They're allergic to morphine, but it wasn't in their notes, so be sure to double-check before administering any medication. Oh, and they're booked in for a CT scan at eleven o'clock."

Miranda nodded, her expression attentive as she took note of Harry's instructions.

"Got it, thanks for letting me know, Haz. I'll make sure to handle it," she assured him, her voice calm and confident.

Just as Harry was about to head out, another colleague approached him. It was Mitch, with his signature man bun and glasses perched on the edge of his nose.

Mitch was most definitely one of his best friends, they shared a dorm at Oxford and were lucky enough to both get a job at the same hospital. Mitch was specialised in paediatrics so they hardly saw each other when working but when they did they always had a good time.

They sometimes ate together on there lunch breaks.

"Hey, bud," Mitch greeted him with a grin. "What shifts are you doing tomorrow?"

Harry glanced at his watch before replying,

"I'm on an early. I'll be in f’seven," he answered, his tone weary but determined.

Mitch nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic.

"Early shift, huh? Well, try to get some rest, mate. You've earned it," he said, patting Harry on the back in a gesture of camaraderie.

"Thanks, man. I'll do m’best," Harry replied with a grateful smile, appreciating the support from his colleague.

As Harry stepped out of the hospital's exit, the cool morning breeze greeted him, stirring a newfound hunger in his stomach. It had been nearly five hours since his last meal, and the thought of a hearty breakfast was tantalizing. Toast sounded particularly appealing at the moment, simple yet satisfying.

Recalling the conversation he had with the couple at the park the other day, Harry remembered their mention of a cafe they owned nearby. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he considered the possibility of finding a cozy spot to enjoy a meal. The idea of supporting a local business while indulging in some much-needed nourishment appealed to him greatly.

With determination in his stride, Harry made his way to his black Range Rover parked nearby. Slipping behind the wheel, he navigated the bustling streets of Canal Street, the anticipation of discovering a new culinary gem fueling his excitement. Despite the morning rush, he remained focused on his mission, determined to satisfy his hunger with a delicious meal.

After a brief ten-minute drive, Harry finally found a parking space outside the cafe. With a sense of satisfaction, he turned off the engine and stepped out of his car, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. With each step towards the entrance, Harry's anticipation grew, eager to experience what the cafe had to offer.

As Harry entered the cafe, a small bell above the door tinkled lightly, announcing his arrival. He scanned the cozy interior, his eyes immediately landing on an inviting empty table by the window. Making his way over, he settled into the chair, already relishing the prospect of a hot cup of coffee and some toast.

Before he could even glance at the menu, the elderly woman from the park approached his table with a warm smile.

"Well, look who it is! I'm so glad you decided to stop by," she greeted him cheerfully.

Harry returned her smile, feeling a sense of familiarity and warmth in her presence.

"I couldn't resist," he admitted.

The woman beamed with delight.

"Oh, I'm thrilled to hear that! Someone will be with you shortly to take your order. In the meantime, make yourself at home," she said warmly before bustling off to attend to another customer.

Harry leaned back in his chair, feeling a sense of comfort settle over him in the quaint surroundings of the cafe.

As you stand behind the counter, wiping down the coffee machine, Mary, approaches you with a gentle smile.

"Table nine needs to have his order taken," she informs you kindly.

You nod in acknowledgment, trying to ignore the pain throbbing in your ribs and your lower leg.

Retrieving your notepad and pen from under the counter, you attempt to conceal your limp as you make your way over to table nine.

Approaching the table, you and Harry seem to recognize each other simultaneously.

Both of your eyes widen.

Both your mouths go dry.

You blink a few times, getting yourself out of the daze you seem to be captured in as you muster up a fake smile and ask him what he'd like to order.

Before you can finish your question, Harry interrupts you, his voice filled with concern.

"I wondered what had happened t’you," he admits, his gaze searching yours.

You tilt your head to the side, feigning innocence, though you know exactly what he's referring to.

"Oh, it was nothing serious," you reply casually, hoping to brush off the topic.

But it was.

Harry sighs, his expression filled with sincerity.

"Y’discharged yourself before your X-ray," he points out, his tone gentle yet firm. "You wouldn't have done that. You know doctors are there to help people."

You let out a resigned sigh, knowing he's right but unwilling to admit it.

"I didn't want to waste the doctor's time," you murmur, avoiding his gaze as you fiddle with your pen.

Harry's brow furrows in concern.

"Every patient is important, Y/N," he says softly, his voice filled with compassion.

He remembers your name?

"Y’shouldn't have discharged yourself. What happened to you?"

You muster up a fake laugh, hoping to deflect his concern.

"Oh, it was nothing much," you reply nonchalantly, though the memories of the past week weigh heavily on your mind. "Just a few bumps and bruises. I'm fine now."

Harry sighs, his expression troubled.

"I was there to help you," he says earnestly, his eyes searching yours. "And I'll always be here to help you. Y’don’t have to go through these things alone.”

Harry's gaze remains fixed on you, his concern evident as he waits for your response.

You shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny, the weight of his words weighing heavily on your shoulders.

"I appreciate your concern, Harry," you say, your voice tinged with reluctance. "But really, there's nothing to worry about. I'm fine."

Harry's brow furrows further, his concern deepening.

"Y/N, I can see that you're in pain," he observes, his tone gentle yet insistent.

You bite your lip, torn between the urge to confide in him and the instinct to keep your struggles hidden.

"It's just... life, you know?" you reply evasively, hoping to deflect his questions. "Nothing I can't handle."

Harry's gaze softens, his empathy shining through as he reaches out a hand towards yours.

"You don't have to handle everything on y’own, Y/N," he says softly. "Sometimes s’okay to lean on others for support."

You pull away slightly, the walls around your heart growing stronger as you push him away.

"I appreciate your concern, Harry," you repeat, your voice firmer this time. "But I'm fine. Really."

Harry's expression falls, a flicker of hurt passing through his eyes before he nods in reluctant acceptance.

"Okay," he says quietly, though the disappointment lingers in his voice. "If y’ever need someone to talk to, m’here."

But where would you ever find him?

You shift your focus to the menu in front of you, grateful for the temporary distraction it provides.

"And what can I get for you today?" you ask, forcing a polite smile as you glance up at Harry.

His gaze flickers down to the menu briefly before returning to meet yours.

"Just a black coffee with a tuna panini, please," he replies, his voice calm and composed.

You nod, scribbling down his order on your notepad as you fight to maintain your composure.

"Sure thing," you say, your voice steady despite the ache in your ribs.

With a tight smile, you turn away, doing your best to conceal the slight limp in your step as you make your way back to the counter.

You walk over to the coffee machine, the familiar hum of its machinery offering a momentary reprieve from the turmoil swirling within you. With practiced efficiency, you begin the process of brewing Harry's black coffee, the rich aroma filling the air as the dark liquid flows into the waiting cup.

As the coffee finishes brewing, you carefully pour it into a ceramic cup, the warmth seeping through the porcelain and into your hands. Despite the ache in your ribs and the lingering pain in your leg, you focus on the task at hand, determined to see it through with unwavering precision.

You carefully balance the tray in one hand, holding Harry's black coffee securely as you navigate your way back to his table.

Despite your best efforts to conceal it, the persistent ache in your ribs and the throbbing pain in your leg threaten to betray you with every step.

As you approach Harry's table, your foot catches on an uneven tile, sending you stumbling forward. Your heart races as you fight to regain your balance, but it's too late.

With a sharp crack, the glass mug slips from your grasp, shattering into pieces on the floor in front of you.

A gasp escapes your lips as you watch the coffee spill across the tiles, the warm liquid mingling with the shards of broken glass. Heat rises to your cheeks as embarrassment floods through you, your pulse pounding in your ears as you struggle to compose yourself.

Harry's concerned voice cuts through the chaos, his words a blur as he rushes to your side.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his brow furrowed with worry as he rushes to your side.

You freeze at the sound of his voice, your heart pounding in your chest as a surge of panic threatens to overwhelm you.

Memories of Corey's anger and violence flood your mind, leaving you trembling in fear.

Harry's hand reaches out to touch your shoulder, but you flinch away instinctively, your body tensing with apprehension.

"Easy, easy," he murmurs softly, his voice gentle as he takes a step closer. "I just want to make sure y’alright."

The sincerity in Harry's words sends a jolt of conflicting emotions coursing through you. Part of you longs to believe him, to surrender to the warmth of his concern and let him chase away the shadows that haunt you.

But another part, hardened by years of trauma, recoils from his touch, wary of the vulnerability that comes with trust.

Struggling to find your voice amidst the turmoil raging within you, you take a shaky step back, your gaze darting nervously around the room.

"I'm... I'm fine," you manage to choke out, though the words taste like ash on your tongue.

Harry's expression softens, his eyes filled with genuine concern as he takes in your trembling form.

"Y’don't look fine," he says gently, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, let me help you."

The sincerity in Harry's voice is like a lifeline in the darkness, offering you a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos. But the walls you've built around your heart remain steadfast, the fear of vulnerability too great to overcome.

With a heavy heart, Harry watches as you push yourself to your feet and bolt towards the back of the cafe, disappearing from sight before he can reach out to stop you.

Left standing amidst the wreckage, he can't help but feel a pang of regret, knowing that he's let you slip through his fingers once again. But deep down, he knows that he won't give up on you, not when there's still a chance to break through the walls that surround your wounded heart.

He flickers his eyes up, and catches the eyes of Barney, but the elderly man just casts his eyes back down to the floor.

As you reach the relative safety of the back room, you lean against the wall, gasping for breath as tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

The sound of your own heartbeat echoes in your ears, a relentless reminder of the darkness that lurks within you, threatening to swallow you whole.

LATER THAT NIGHT….

Corey storms into the room, his footsteps heavy with anger.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you shrink back against the headboard, clutching your book tightly to your chest.

"Why isn't there any food on the table?" Corey's voice cuts through the silence like a knife, his tone sharp with frustration.

You stutter out a feeble excuse, explaining that you only just got home from work and haven't had time to cook anything.

"But... I was thinking... maybe we could order takeout?" you offer tentatively, your voice trembling with apprehension.

The suggestion only seems to fuel his rage further.

"You know I don't like eating fast food," he snaps, his voice laced with contempt as he strides towards you.

Without warning, he grabs your hair, wrenching your head back to meet his furious gaze.

Panic courses through you as you struggle to find your voice, your mind racing with fear and confusion.

"There's... there's not much food in the house," you stammer, your words barely audible above the pounding of your heart.

You hadn’t had time to go shopping today.

Corey's grip tightens, his fingers digging into your scalp as he leans in close, his breath hot against your skin.

"You're so useless," he sneers, his words dripping with venom.

"Fat, lazy, good-for-nothing..."

The room spins as Corey's tirade continues, his insults cutting deeper with each passing moment.

Desperate to escape, you try to push him away, but his grip only tightens, trapping you in a nightmare from which there seems to be no escape.

Suddenly, with a violent outburst, Corey grabs the lamp from the bedside table and hurls it against the wall, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room.

Tears blur your vision as you shrink back against the bed, utterly petrified by the display of his rage.

As Corey advances towards you with a fiery rage burning in his eyes, you scramble to your feet, desperately trying to evade his grasp.

With a surge of adrenaline, you manage to slip past him, your heart pounding in your chest as you bolt towards the stairs.

But just as you reach the top step, Corey's hand snags your arm, wrenching you around with a brutal force that sends you reeling.

"How dare you run away from me?" he hisses, his breath hot against your face as flecks of spit land on your skin. "You should never turn your back on your boyfriend."

Terror courses through you as you try to reason with him, your voice trembling with fear.

"Corey, please... You're hurting me," you manage to stammer, but your words fall on deaf ears.

Corey's laughter cuts through the air like a knife, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic amusement.

"Hurting you?" he mocks, his voice dripping with disdain.

"This isn't hurting you, sweetheart. This is."

And with a sudden shove, he sends you tumbling down the stairs, your body crashing against the unforgiving steps with a sickening thud.

Agony radiates through every fiber of your being as you lie at the bottom of the staircase, your ribs screaming in protest with each labored breath.

Tears blur your vision as you curl into a ball, the weight of Corey's betrayal crushing down upon you like a suffocating weight.

With a gasp, you jolt awake from the nightmare, your heart pounding in your chest as if trying to escape the confines of your ribcage.

The events that caused you to head to the hospital in the first place continuously running through your head leading to sleepless night after sleepless night.

Beads of sweat cling to your forehead, your hair damp and tangled against your skin, as the remnants of the horrifying dream linger in your mind like a haunting specter.

As you turn to your left, the empty space beside you serves as a stark reminder of Corey's absence. The sinking realization settles in that he's likely out drinking again, his drunken antics and volatile behavior a constant source of fear and uncertainty in your life.

Gazing out of the window, you're met with the sight of a full moon casting an eerie glow over the world below. Its ethereal light illuminates the darkness, casting long shadows that seem to dance with malevolent intent.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you ponder the endless cycle of fear and despair that has become your reality.

How much longer will you have to endure this nightmare?

tag list: @fictionalmensblog @hermionelove @angel32112233 @moneybaby07 @hannah9921 @definegirlfriendsx

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dearanakin · 8 months

Text

"Here's your treat, Sailor" - Steve Harrington x f! Reader

Summary: It's Halloween and you're celebrating your birthday. You throw a small party at your house, but end up locked in your closet with Steve. Give him a treat, he's upset, yeah?

Warnings: A little fluff, a little smut. Oral sex, cursing. 18+ DNI

Word count: 2.6k (just a quick story)

Being born close to Halloween means it was always most likely you would throw a themed birthday party. Two days before the actual date, you were celebrating at a bar with your closest friends, always excited to gather all of them and your other friends.

Hours before the party, you were getting help from Robin and Eddie with the decoration, while Steve and Dustin - your not-so-baby-brother - were cleaning the house.

Jonathan and Nancy were in charge of the rest; food, crockery, cups and stuff like that. A faint rock music was playing on a boombox as you were all busy with the arrangement.

You were pretty excited this year, for the first time after getting into college you invited a few friends you got along. Not that you weren't missing having a boyfriend, but every time you'd go out with someone, it turns out they just want sex, and you didn't like that.

Pumpkins with wicked grins lined the path to the entrance, their flickering candles casting eerie shadows. A large, ancient oak tree was adorned with fake cobwebs and ghostly apparitions hanging from its branches, swaying gently in the autumn breeze. A fog machine sent wisps of mist rolling across the yard, setting the perfect, eerie mood.

It was 8 pm sharp when the first guests arrived. Mike with El, Lucas with Max and Will, who were not that young anymore either, they were all like 18, 19. You couldn't hold a grin to see them dressed as Ghostbusters, like every year they wear matching costumes.

You and your friends made a deal you'd surprise each other with your costumes, so a while after the kids arrived, Eddie knocked on the door and as you opened it, and it was impossible to miss. He had transformed himself into a member of the legendary rock band, Kiss.

He was wearing a very made up costume. He even painted in the signature black and white makeup, wearing a black leather vest, displaying his flat abs.

He wore a skin-tight, leather jumpsuit adorned with studs and spikes. Behind him, Robin was wearing a camouflage outfit, along with black boots just like Eddie.

"Wow, you took the 'dressed to kill' idea very seriously!" She said as she complimented you. As a lesbian, she couldn't stop looking at your cleavage.

You went for an Elvira look with a black, form-fitting, low-cut dress, with a slit on the side. The v-neck showed a little too much of your chest, which would make every guy look at you for more than five minutes.

"Eddie, come on dork. Stop stripping her with your eyes!" She mocked him, laughing at the way he was just frozen, still looking at you.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart. Nice choice. Gonna make every dude in this house get a boner" He tried to sound playful, but he only just turned himself in.

"Thank you so much for the heads-up. I had no idea" Ironically, you weren't really expecting that. Maybe that's why Mike and Lucas got flickered in their foreheads earlier.

Steve was more obvious and it made you laugh. He just chose to wear his Scoops Ahoy uniform, without the hat. Because that would ruin his perfect hair.

And again, what Eddie said echoed in your head, because the hairy chested guy couldn't stop staring at your breasts until you tried to pinch him. Jonathan and Nancy were wearing something very couple-like, and it was heart melting.

There were people chatting in the backyard, some were listening to music while talking and drinking, Dusty and the kids were talking about some game. The couple was somewhere, probably exchanging saliva, and you were talking with Robin, listening to her charm about Vickie, while Eddie was smoking a joint.

"Hey, where the hell is Steve?" She asks after a brief pause, watching as Eddie shrugs his shoulders. "I haven't seen him in like, twenty minutes, I think?".

"Probably fixing his hair or managing to get his dick wet" He scoffed.

Both of you looked at him in disbelief, he was just trying to mock. "Ew, Munson. I know he used to be like that, but he wouldn't do this. Not at my house at least" You respond, but he doesn't agree.

"Eh, could be. But let's be honest. The guy is charming, pretty, and has a good talk. Any girl would jump on him like that" He snaps his fingers.

"I'm gonna look for him around here. You can go upstairs" You tell her before leaving him alone, who mumbles something about Steve "needing a babysitter" or something.

You had no idea where the guy could've gone. He just didn't say anything before ghosting, and it's not like there was a way of communicating to him, unless he had a walkie. But this wasn't one of his gatherings with the kids.

You looked behind the curtains, because, you never know right? Under the table, behind the couch, in the guest restroom and even behind any door, but still nothing. Robin said she didn't see him upstairs.

She went to the backyard and asked the others about him. Until you realized you didn't look for him in one spot that anyone could fit in: the closet under your stairs.

He was sitting there with a different look on his face. Maybe tired? You didn't know. He had his back resting against the wall, fidgeting his fingers. A cup with some drink was also resting on the floor.

"Care to explain why you're hiding at my party without saying anything?" You ask, but he doesn't bother to look at you.

He shrugs his shoulders, pouting. "I'm sorry it's your birthday party. I just didn't feel like being around".

You wanted to ask, but you weren't sure he would answer you. Still holding the doorknob, you reach out your hands, so he can lift himself up, but he doesn't.

"C'mon Steve, let's try and cheer up, yeah? You want me to change the music? Is it boring?" He shakes his head. "You want something else to drink? Food?". Nothing.

As soon as he gets up, he closes the door behind you, before you protest. What he doesn't know is that If you close the door, it locks from the inside. He just locked you both in there.

"Steve-" You try to tell him, but he cuts you off.

"Can you not tell this to Robin just yet? It's going to sound really stupid" He asks, his tone was low and pretty hurtful.

"Steve, you can't close this door from the inside. We're locked in here".

He snaps his eyes and raises both eyebrows. He tries to open the door but nothing happens.

"You're fucking kidding me. I just locked the party host in the closet" He groans, yanking his head against the door.

"Yeah, thank you. Now Robin is going to think we're either missing or messing around".

Steve still has his head resting against the door, banging it carefully.

"Could this night be any shittier?" You don't get why he seems stressed, but you try to ask him anyway.

"What happened, sailor?" He chuckles lightly, almost like in a bittersweet way.

"If you make fun of me I'll get your gift back" He threatens. "Just this girl I was talking to earlier in the backyard.. I asked her for her number and she said I was a 'stupid momma's boy and that my reputation is wrecked'" He mourns.

"You know you're not like that anymore, right?" You try to ease him and reassure you don't think of him that way.

He still laughs sarcastically. "Seems like I still am". He sighs. "That's the problem. People still see me like that, and I hate it".

"Just because some random girl said that to you, it doesn't mean it's true".

Steve tries to take in your words as he crosses his arms on his chest and ponders. He hasn't been like that in ages, why would he still make it a big deal anyway? Seems like he needed to work out his self-esteem.

"Maybe you're right. How's the party?" He still sounds like he's offended, maybe he just needs a hug.

"Well, it's been pretty good until you locked us in" You joke, watching him slightly chuckle.

"You look really good as Elvira" Steve gives you a gentle side smile and you grab his hand.

"You look the same as always, sailor" Snorting, he gives you a death glance. Like, it's not the first time you see in that outfit.

"Just think you missed the boobs". Oh, that was a burn.

Walking towards him, you make sure you're pressing your sides to show a little more cleavage, and he gulps. "What, you don't think this cleavage isn't enough?" Your voice was smooth and low.

As you reach to both his arms, he tries to not stare at you for too long or he breaks. Your pleading eyes actually hold something different and it makes his boxer feel uncomfortable already. You've always thought he was good looking, even with the stupid outfit.

"I.. uh- No, it's great" He nervously laughs, his hands never meet your body out of respect for you.

You tease him as you lean against his body, and Steve is looking confused at you. "Eddie was right when he said every guy would get a boner with my costume".

He tries to hold a nervous chuckle and fails. "I don't have a boner, what do you mean?"

"Then what are you hiding in there, an ice cream scoop?" The taunting was terrible, but it makes him laugh as his cheeks flush.

"You're a terrible person" This time he holds his gaze directly at your eyes and leans closer until your noses bump. "You're incredibly sexy and terrible".

"And yet you're the one dressed as a sailor with your uniform" You retort, wrapping your hands around his neck. He feels your chest pressed against his, as well as his growing crotch.

He doesn't give you an answer, but instead he just crashes his lips against yours, holding your chin in a light grip. He tastes like beer, he smells like Calvin Klein and you don't regret this little show you're having.

It doesn't have to be something serious right now, so you just enjoy it when he slides his tongue against yours, letting out a groan to your surprise. One of his hands slides down your body, holding your waist as he tries to bring you closer to him.

You feel his hard cock rub against your cunt under the dress and it burns your skin. Grasping his lower lip against your teeth, you let out a teasing gasp, learning Steve is just about to throw you against the wall and fuck you there.

But before he even tries anything, you start kissing him again, feeling his hot tongue swirling around yours in a battle for dominance. It makes your brain twist and your stomach sink. It makes your entire body shiver.

He pulls back only to breathe, his haired chest is heavily panting and his lips are swollen. "This is what they're missing. So, fuck them" You praise.

His big squared hand grabs your cheek carefully as he uses his thumb to rub his digit against your skin. "Thank you" That's all he says.

Watching him from that position, it makes you realize he's everything Eddie said before. He is charming, pretty, and has a good talk. He's also caring, smart and gentle. If you could, you would put him in a bubble and take care of him.

You pull him by the collar only to give him a peck before sliding both hands down his stomach until your hands reach the elastic of his shorts.

He looks at you, confused and sort of lost with the action. "Here's a Halloween treat, sailor". You kneel in front of him.

The tone of your voice is barely above a whisper and it carries luxury, filling the air of the small closet. His throat is now dry as he gulps harshly. You pull down his piece of clothing before glancing carefully at his hardened cunt under the fabric.

It pulses when you softly touch his base and Steve almost collapses under your hands. He helps you get rid of his boxer, muffling his grunt when you hold it in your right hand. Your best hand, the one you know you can give a nice handjob.

But this time you catch him off guard when your mouth gives him a soft open mouthed kiss on the glistening tip of his cock. He's kinda big, and thick, and it makes your mouth water with desperation. You glide your tongue until it reaches his balls and he flinches, hissing.

"Jesus fuck" He cries. It makes you grin through his cock.

Slowly, you swallow him until it reaches the back of your throat and you try not to gag. His reflection is to pull a handful of your hair and he slowly loses it.

Working along with your tongue, you start bobbing your head up and down, careful to not choke on his cunt. You cup his balls with your free hand and softly rub them against your soft fingers.

Steve almost starts sliding down the wall, trying to hold himself up. He feels himself completely at your mercy, not knowing why it feels so good, considering you were good friends.

You hum while tasting every inch of him, feeling his dick twitch inside your mouth, dripping with precum.

He uses one hand to hold himself while the other one still pulls your hair. The sound of your throat against his dick is echoing inside the closet, while his breathing makes the air become stuffy. Your mouth sucks him so perfectly, your throat tightens around him.

"I'm not gonna las- Fuck-" He sttuters when you hollow your cheeks and suck him hard, the loud gasp coming off his mouth makes you feel so horny you almost give up on this.

The way you concentrate on your movements, always switching so it doesn't give you cheek cramps, makes him want to thrust against your mouth. But he knows his limits and he doesn't want you to choke on him either.

He watches with bliss on his eyes the way your head bobs towards him and it makes him dizzy at your sight. You look at him with lust and awe, savoring his salty liquid, feeling how his fat cock stretches your mouth so it can fit in.

Your hand falls from his balls to his hairy and thick thighs, digging your nails into his skin, listening to every moan he spills against the thin air.

"I'mgonnacum" He slurs and you feel his hips shuddering as he finally reaches his peak, washing over your throat. You swallow him entirely, his warm cum suddenly makes you feel too blissed from the moment.

Steve can barely breathe, you watch him almost gasp for air. His chest is heavily panting and sweating, just like his flushed face.

You noticed how messy his hair is. After swallowing it all, you give him a quick peck on his sensitive tip and he pulls back from the sensation.

He helps you get up from your knees, still staring at you amused. You quickly clean the corner of your mouth, licking the same spot. "God, you are fascinating".

When he leans forward to give you another kiss, not giving a shit you taste like him, the door finally opens and Robin stares at both of you in shock.

"What the fuck happened here?".

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #userashe #useremz

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red-dead-sakharine · 6 months

Text

Tickles

gn!tav, RaphaelPOV, humor, sfw until Haarlep shows up, ace, body worship Cover art by the wonderful @octarinecat!

"And what did-ihihihihi!" he paused, confused. He looked down at Korrilla, who was just reporting to him. She stared at him with a bewildered expression, "Boss?"

"Yes? I don't-teeheeheeheehee!" he clutched his side, confused, irritated. What was this? What was- "Hhhhahahaha!" the laughter escaped him, despite his best efforts. It felt like something was poking his side. It was irritating. It was... it was.... "Heeheehihihihihi!" he giggled. This was embarrassing - he hated it!

Korrilla stared at him wide-eyed, then looked around. Searching for someone who might be casting a spell - but there was nobody nearby. They were alone in the devil's den. "Eeheeheeheehihihihi!" his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, snickering and giggling. He couldn't help himself. This was ridiculous! What in the hells was going on!? He flinched involuntarily as he felt his side poked particularly hard, and another laugh escaped him.

He looked at the dwarf and she looked at him - it hit them both at the same time: "Haarlep", they said in unison. Followed by another particularly strong giggle from Raphael.

"Go and stop, whatever he'sheeheeheeheeheehee!" He screamed in rage at the involuntarily giggles.

"I got it, boss." Korrilla assured him and vanished.

The minutes following dragged on like an eternity, interspersed with soft giggles and violent laughter, so debilitating that it left him prone on the floor.

"I'm going to kihihihihihihill him!" he screamed in rage, not even able to utter a threat without being interrupted by laughter.

What was taking Korrilla so long!? His sides hurt. After some time Korrilla appeared again,... smirking?

"What are you-hoohoohihihihihihihi! AHHRR! What have you been doing!? You didn't fix it!" He would've lashed out, if he'd been able to get up for long enough.

"I am very, very sorry, boss." Korrilla exclaimed, walking over to him, "I fear you'll have to see for yourself." she offered herself to help him up, and he looked at her with murder in his eyes. Then he giggled like a little school girl and dismayed.

"GRAH fine! Bring me to him!" he demanded, and used her shoulder to push himself up, then he doubled over in another fit of laughter.

One enlarge spell later, the dwarf was just tall enough to be a serviceable crutch, as they teleported back to the House of Hope. Never before had the walk from the entrance, to his boudoir felt so long. They had to stop multiple times, because his knees gave in, as another strong attack of giggles befell him.

"I'm going to kill Haarlep and whoever he's with!" he growled ...and snickered.

After an excruciatingly long walk, they finally reached the boudoir. Rounding the pool counter-clockwise, he noticed a few figures standing to the left near the bed. And they noticed him.

"Well, here he is. It was nice, knowing you!" he heard the vampire spawn's voice from across the pool. "Chk! I hope this was worth it." the githyanki's voice added. Then he saw the gathered companions hurry towards the exit, keeping the pool between him and them.

That's right, he thought, the moment I have control over my body again, I'll shred you all to pieces! Run as fast as you can! His inner thoughts were disrupted by another silly giggle, and he growled in rage.

"There you are. Finally!" Tav was straddling Haarlep on top of the large bed. An impish smile on their face, Haarlep below them with tears of laughter in their eyes and a big smile on their face. They were still clothed, and the incubus was still wearing their leathers.

Raphael's face was the opposite of Haarlep's. Red from anger - and laughter - contorted in rage to a furious grimace. He let go of Korrilla and stood up tall to stare Tav down. They smiled at him mischievously and poked into Haarlep's side. Haarlep snickered, Raphael flinched with a grin. No! This was not what he wanted to be doing! He hated not having control over his body. These involuntary happy noises coming from his own mouth made him sick!

"Cut this out at once!" he demanded.

He could see Haarlep's tail swish across the bed in excitement. Just you wait, he thought, you're in just as much trouble as they are!

"Or what?" Tav replied, grinning from ear to ear and poked Haarlep's side again several times. Both, the incubus and Raphael started snickering.

"STOP!" Raphael commanded in between giggles, but Tav didn't listen. His knees were buckling again and he ended up on the ground, clutching his side. Korrilla shuffled away from him and the bed, towards the exit. Not leaving entirely, but she got out of the danger zone for now.

Eventually Tav stopped, looking back to him as he sat on the ground. Clutching his side in a hopeless attempt of stopping the tickles. But it wasn't his body that was being tickled. He's never felt so embarrassed, so powerless, so... helpless. He tried to catch his breath and glared at Tav with all the fury of the nine hells. He's going to flay that grin off their face for this humiliation!

"Alright. You don't like being tickled, I get it." they eventually said, as if it hadn't been obvious before, "What about this?" He inhaled to tell them to stop whatever they were planning to do, but before he could say something, Tav bent down over Haarlep and gently sucked on one of his nipples. Raphael took a shuddered breath. No! He would not be manipulated like that! He got ready to push himself up but froze when he saw - felt - Tav's hands run gently across Haarlep's - his - chest. Lovingly. Adoringly. Kisses followed - from one nipple, across the chest to the other. Now this one was being loved, gently sucked. Caressed by Tav's tongue. Raphael couldn't get himself to stand up. Haarlep wriggled slightly underneath the mortal intruder, clearly enjoying themself.

This wasn't right. He shouldn't be enjoying this! He hated this! He hated being manipulated. His body being misused like this. Never mind, that he had thought of Tav in this manner before. But he should be the one initiating. Not Tav. Not that filthy creature Haarlep. He felt Tav's hands caressing his sides - no more tickles, only love. And kisses trail down his chest towards his bellybutton. His brows pulled together and he leaned back involuntarily, enjoying the sensation. And then it stopped. He blinked to refocus, and looked to Tav and Haarlep on the bed. That stupid mortal was looking at him, smiling. They'd seen that he enjoyed this. He felt exposed.

"You know," Tav began, "the tickles were just meant to get you to come here. Because," they got off Haarlep and sat beside them on the bed, facing Raphael, "I'd much rather be doing this with the real thing." Raphael shuddered slightly. He wanted them for a long while now, though he's been hiding it behind flirtations that were too obvious, too over the top, to be taken as genuine. He never expected that his favorite misadventurer would actually think of him like this. Think of him the way he thought of them.

He pushed himself up and began moving towards the bed. Haarlep crawled up into a sitting position, grinning with mischief. He shot the incubus a death glare. It got the point across and Haarlep slid off the bed and moved towards the exit. "Have fun," they whispered as they passed Raphael, who just growled in response.

Both the incubus and Korrilla made themselves scarce now, to leave the other two to their devices. They knew Raphael wanted, nay, needed this. He had been talking about Tav nonstop, after all.

"I should flay you alive for your insolence," Raphael growled as he came to a stop before the bed. "Then I wouldn't be able to worship you, though." Tav replied matter-of-factly, then added "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I just wanted you to come here." Raphael wrinkled his nose in anger. He wanted to scoff and be angry, but he couldn't quite manage. Not with Tav sitting on his bed in front of him. "Worship me?" he echoed, raising a brow in question. Tav simply pat the bed next to them in response.

[mood music]

He hesitated. He didn't want to relinquish control - ignoring the fact that he never had it in this situation. After a moment, he relented and climbed on the bed where Haarlep had been before. Tav smiled at him and his insides melted. Damn this stupid mortal! His frustrated thoughts dispersed into the void when Tav's hands appeared on his shoulders. They had crawled up behind him and their arms were snaking their way from his shoulders to his chest. Wrapping him in their embrace as they found the buttons of his doublet and started opening them. Slowly, one by one. It was exciting and agonizing at the same time. He wished they'd hurry up, but he didn't voice it. He just closed his eyes, feeling Tav's chest press against his back, and their arms around him, and their hands working their way through the buttons down his chest.

The doublet came off, then the shirt. Kisses on the back of his neck. He got goosebumps and cursed that his body was betraying him like this. He could feel Tav's smile as they kissed him again, and he knew they noticed. They trailed kisses along his shoulders and down his shoulder blades; their hands gently roaming across his chest, his belly, his sides. This was nothing like what Haarlep did to him. Haarlep would do foreplay if commanded to, but it was never with love nor care. This... this felt different. He felt... appreciated.

The bed shifted and he opened his eyes to see Tav crawl in front of him now. Hands on his chest, on his side. Kisses in the nape of his neck, on his chest. They ran their nose through the fluff of hair on his chest. He sighed. Damnit, he didn't mean to! More kisses on his chest. His nipples - o they were being spoiled. Sucked and caressed with a tongue. Not like Haarlep. Not rough and bitey and angry. This was unlike anything he knew. This was soft and caring and wonderful. His brows drew together again and he lifted his head involuntarily. This was nice. He felt appreciated. Kisses on his sides - where the annoying tickles had been before - yes good. An apology to his sensitive flanks. He accepted it. Kisses snaking towards his bellybutton again. He couldn't help but lift a hand to run it through Tav's hair. Soft. So soft. More kisses. He felt good.

Kisses up his chest again, paying taxes to his nipples in passing, going further up. Kisses on his neck again. He moaned. Gods be damned, he didn't mean to! A nibble on his ear, his breath hitched.

"Do you trust me?"

He nodded. Should he? His mind was fuzzy. He wanted more. More worship. That's what they called it, right?

He felt the buckle of his belt open, felt his fly unbutton. He opened one eye, looked at Tav. They gently pushed him to the side and onto his belly, sprawled across the bed. He was confused, but complied.

His pants went down. Why was he letting himself be exposed like this? He should be the one in control! He should be the one- hands on his bum. He paused. A kiss on his right butt cheek. He let his head drop onto the bed. A kiss on the left. Hands caressing his rear lovingly. He was dead and this was heaven.

More kisses up and down his butt. Then up his spine. He shuddered. Loving hands caressing his back. Kisses on his shoulders again. He could feel Tav's body brush against his rear, their legs against his, as they loomed over him. Worshiped him. Kisses up the back of his neck. A hand in his hair. He hummed in pleasure. A kiss on his cheek. He felt hot. He was sure he was blushing. Damn his body. Damn this mortal! He never felt like this with Haarlep.

Hands gently running over his torso. Another gentle kiss on his temple. He stifled a sigh. Hands trailing down his back again. Stroking his butt. Stroking his thighs. Kisses following them. A gentle lick on his right butt cheek. He shivered. What was this mortal doing to him. His little mouse. His little-- Another lick. His mind flew away to someplace else. More kisses on his rear. Loving. Caring. Not rough. Not savage with lust. Just affection. Not like Haarlep. Not possessive. Not with a single goal in mind. He grabbed the sheets, balled his fists and shuddered. This was all too much. Too much gentleness. Violence he knew. Rough he could handle. Bites and scratches and hungry humping, he knew. That's all he knew. Not this. Not these hands that stroked his body like it was a holy icon to be praised. Another kiss between his shoulder blades. Another moan escaped him. He pushed his face into the bedding, embarrassed, exposed. He should kill Tav for seeing him like this. Causing him to be like this. A hand in his hair again. A kiss on his temple. "Shhh," they whispered in his ear, and stroked his hair. Another kiss. So loving. So caring. He didn't know what to do with this affection. This gentleness. "I can't touch your wings, when you're in human form." a barely audible whisper in his other ear. He whined into the bedding in exasperation. Most mortals shied away from his true form. Were scared of it - found it monstrous. But his little mouse wanted to see it. Love it. He acquiesced and relinquished his human guise. He felt Tav dodge the wings as they appeared.

"Magnificent," he heard them breathe in awe. That's right, he thought, I am. Hands on his back. His thoughts flew away again. The hands felt smaller, now that he was bigger. But they felt just as good. As kind. They roamed up his back and towards his wings. Kisses following them up his spine again. At the base of his wings.

He felt the bed shift with Tav's weight as they climbed off him and to one side. Caring hands slowly ran along his wing. From the base up to where the joints connected, then down on the outermost spine. He shuddered at the gentle touch. It was wonderful. Too wonderful. It made him feel fuzzy. He stretched his other wing out to compensate. Kisses on his wings. He moaned. More kisses followed. Up and down the spines. Gentle hands stroking the membrane in between. This was bliss. This was rapture.

The weight in the bed shifted again, and he felt hands on his other wing. He was being tortured. Tortured with love. He didn't know what to do with it. With the affection. It was maddening and wonderful.

The hands and kisses repeated their ministrations on this wing, then moved towards his torso again. Gently wandering down his back. Like they couldn't just move to another place without touching and loving every bit of his body between here and there. A kiss on the base of his tail. He gasped, clutching the sheets more tightly. The reaction was not lost on his worshiper. Another kiss. Lips gliding down his tail, hands stroking it, kisses following it. A gentle lick. His body shook with pleasure. He couldn't think anymore. His brain had left his body. More gentle kisses. Another lick further down the tail. Hands gently kneading his tail muscles. He moaned again. He didn't care. A kiss at the very tip of his tail. A gentle suck. He was sure this wasn't reality anymore. Lips and hands working their way back up to the base of his tail, then down next to it. Another kiss on his right butt cheek. Then on his left. Hands roaming over his body. He was shivering uncontrollably now. He didn't know what to do with all these wonderful feelings. He wished someone would punch him. He knew what to do with pain. He didn't know what to do with love. Tav sank onto the bed next to him. A hand still caressing his back. He looked up - looked at them. His little mouse. They were lying next to him, head propped up with one hand, while the other was still stroking his back. He looked at them and he was powerless. They smiled at him and leaned in. A kiss on his forehead. On his nose. On his cheek. On his lips.

He could cry from bliss.

He's never been loved like this.

👉 Part 2

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soulessjourney · 5 months

Text

His Love Story

Paring: young!Coriolanus x fem!Reader

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Coriolanus came to realize what he had lost when it was already too late.

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of cheating, reader throwing things at Coriolanus

A/N: I apologize; unfortunately, the works I promised you for this week will not be posted. I've encountered some issues with my university and have been busy trying to get them to fulfill their responsibilities. However, I wanted to provide you with something to read. I hope this little angsty one-shot serves as a small compensation for what I was unable to post this week. I promise you that the other works will be posted before the end of the year.

The holidays were meant to be festive and warm, so why did Coriolanus feel so cold? The house lay dark, enveloped in an icy chill that seemed to freeze everything within. The once radiant glow of Christmas lights failed to cast their comforting warmth across the rooms of his home. He found himself alone, stripped of your presence—no longer able to hear your declarations of love or your pleading to have him place the star atop the tree, especially after you nearly tumbled from the ladder, too stubborn to seek assistance.

----

"Coryo, please, I really need your help unless you want to witness a first lady take a tumble from this ladder again. I don’t know why you insisted on getting such a massive tree," you grumble, holding the golden star in your hand, while kicking at the ground in front of you, the fluffy socks on your feet sliding against the tile.

Coriolanus raises a brow and lets out a chuckle before stepping forward and gently pressing his lips to your forehead. "I asked if you wanted help and you refused, telling me you'd be able to do it," he shrugs. It was true; you had snapped at him five minutes prior, insisting you could place the star at the top of the tree without his help. You knew Coriolanus wouldn’t assist until you fluttered your eyelashes and asked him nicely, but being you, that was unlikely to happen.

The two of you were hosting a grand holiday celebration as in previous years, and Coriolanus had suggested getting a large tree for the foyer, so it would be the first thing guests saw upon arrival. At the time, you loved the idea. However, now that you volunteered to decorate it, thinking it would be a great way to spend time together, regret was creeping in. "Please, I don’t think my ankle can take another leap off the ladder to save my life," you grumble, lifting your head once Coriolanus grabs the star with a laugh.

You watch his every move as he scales the small ladder and reaches up to place the star at the top. Once he's back on the ground, his arms wrap around your waist, and his lips land on your cheek. "The tree looks amazing, Darling. The guests are going to love how beautiful it is," he whispers, brushing your hair back, his eyes softening as he looks down at you.

Smiling up at him, you lean up and pause just before your lips touch his. "The star is crooked. Please fix it before I decide to topple this tree," you hum, patting his chest before turning on your heel to begin decorating the living room, leaving Coriolanus grumbling about how much of a tease you are.

----

Coriolanus stood in the foyer, his gaze lingering on the space where the tree would usually stand. He could still hear the echoes of your laughter bouncing off the walls and recall the moments when you hummed while adorning the tree with ornaments. Yet, those memories seemed to darken abruptly, and he felt a tightening sensation in his chest, prompting him to massage the muscle over his heart in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort. Moving toward the grand hall, Coriolanus glanced at the portraits lining the walls. Each one still held photos of your wedding and some captured moments from when he first became President and you the First Lady. Pausing at the top of the stairs, he halted, allowing his eyes to sweep the room, searching for any sign of life.

---

"Coryo, there you are!" you grin, catching the attention of your husband. Wrapping your arm around his, you tug him down the stairs. "Tigris has been wanting to speak to you, and I’ve had a run-in with the mayor of Two. Don't worry, though; he won't be bothering you until later. I ensured his wife would keep him busy. The Mayors of Five and Eight are also eager to talk to you, and they've made it clear they wish to do it sooner rather than later. About what? I'm not sure; I couldn't get much out of them. They were pretty cryptic," you say, missing the loving gaze aimed towards you as the two of you weave through the crowd.

Coriolanus felt blessed to have a wife as dedicated as you. You were well-versed in politics and adept at handling party guests, much better at welcoming and mingling than he was. He appreciated how you kept him informed about who needed to speak with him or requested his presence, ensuring there were no surprises as the event progressed. Tigris often teased that you were more of a secretary due to how efficiently you organized things for him or rearranged his schedule to accommodate last-minute meetings or events. Though her comments sometimes irked him, you never once complained about assisting him. In fact, when he tried to lighten your workload, you argued that it was your duty as his wife to ensure things were organized so he could come to bed at a reasonable hour.

Coming to a stop, he spins you around and presses his lips against yours, drawing out a surprised gasp. When he leans back, he can't help but grin at your expression, taking your face in his hands. "I am extremely thankful to have you by my side. I know I don’t say it enough, but I do appreciate everything you do for me. I love you," he whispers, leaning down to place a small kiss against your nose, noticing how your eyes well up at his words.

Pulling him closer by his shirt, you plant a small kiss on his lips before looking around. "Go talk to your cousin and then the two mayors. Once you're done, come back to the bedroom; I have a surprise for you," you whisper in his ear, shooting him a sly smile as you slip away from him and head toward your shared bedroom.

---

Coriolanus found himself standing in the center of the tiled floor, the very spot where you both had been not long ago, vivid memories flooding his mind. His skin still tingled from your touch, and his lips retained the sensation of where you had kissed him before slipping away to your room. Shaking his head, he stormed out of the room, catching the eye of one of the maids as he walked past.

"Close it off, tear it apart, rebuild it—I don't care what you do. I don’t want to see that room anymore," he snapped, forcefully making his way past the maid and toward your shared bedroom. Even this space wasn’t a sanctuary. He hadn't touched a single thing since the night you stormed into the room, consumed by embarrassment and rage. He hadn't dared enter that room since things between you both began to unravel because of a foolish mistake.

The shattered flower vase you had thrown still lay beside the window, its fragments mingling with the wilted roses scattered on the floor. Your green gown lay discarded, adorned with the diamond earrings placed delicately nearby. The necklace rested in a heap next to the cracked mirror on the opposite side of the room, evidence of the impact from the small piece of metal. That night, he had been oblivious to where that argument would lead because deep down, he had refused to believe he could ever lose you.

---

Coriolanus couldn't process the force with which the door had flung open, slamming against the wall, surely leaving a small hole from the impact of the door handle. Suddenly, a flower vase filled with white roses hurtled towards him, leaving him little time to react before it crashed against the wall, shattering into fragments on the ground.

"Y/N, what the hell was that for?!" he yelled, turning towards you, anger flashing in his eyes. However, the sight before him halted any further words. There you stood, shoulders hunched, body trembling with quick breaths. But what concerned him more were the angry tears streaking down your cheeks, leaving a trail of eyeliner and mascara in their wake. Your clenched fists and tense jaw spoke volumes as you glared at him.

"I've given you the benefit of the doubt, Coriolanus Snow. I've tried being patient because you've been so engrossed in the Games, but tonight? It was the last straw. You've been distant, and it’s been a month since you touched me. Not a single brush of contact," you declared, standing taller while Coriolanus felt himself inwardly shrinking in response to your fury.

"You promised me you'd make a speech. You knew how long I worked on this campaign to help these kids have a better life. But you never showed up, and all they could talk about was how this wasn’t your priority," you snapped, tearing off your dress and tossing it aside along with your earrings.

Coriolanus stood frozen, mentally reworking his schedule before realization struck him. You had been devoted to this project for over a year, aiming to provide less fortunate children in the capital with an equal educational opportunity at the academy to build their reputations. You had poured your time and effort into tutoring these children and forging partnerships, neglecting your own home life. Tonight was the culmination of your hard work, and Coriolanus had promised to be there to support you. But he had forgotten.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I truly meant to be there, but I got caught up with Evadne. Did they approve your project?" he asked, tentatively approaching you.

You scoffed bitterly. "No, Coriolanus, they didn’t. They laughed me out of the room. Why approve a project my own husband wasn’t there to support, as he promised? A year and a half of work down the drain, and children’s futures ruined because you got caught up with your assistant." Arms crossed, you turned away, your voice softening. "You've been spending more time with her lately. Is there something going on between the two of you?"

Something flared in his eyes before he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "She's been around more, almost seeming more like my wife."

His words hung heavy in the air, and you fell silent, your breaths slowing before you ripped off your necklace and hurled it across the room, ignoring the distant sound of breaking glass. "Y/N, please, I—" he started, but your glare silenced him.

Retreating into the closet, you grabbed your clothes and slipped into a nightgown before heading for the door. "We can sleep in separate rooms since you don't see me as your wife anymore, especially after I've been working so hard for change. Talk to me when you come to your senses, Coriolanus," you murmured quietly before leaving the room, your back turned to him.

---

After that fateful night, something irreparable fractured in your relationship. Arguments became more frequent, often ending in both of you retreating to your respective corners for the rest of the day. The rift widened when you accidentally discovered Coriolanus's infidelity through Tigris. She inadvertently let slip about Coriolanus and Evadne during a lunch together. Her realization dawned too late, assuming you had already known about their affair. That revelation shattered something within you, causing you to shut down completely, intensifying the growing distance between you and Coriolanus.

Before long, you found yourself restricted within your own home. All work was mandated to be completed in your office, conveniently situated down the hall from his. You were forbidden to leave for lunches with Tigris, who was now only permitted to visit you at home. Coriolanus confined you due to his selfish reasons, leaving you feeling trapped and adrift. He foolishly believed that keeping you isolated at home would prevent you from leaving.

As he stepped into your closet, many dresses he had gifted you hung there, but one solitary item remained. It was a sweater that belonged solely to you. It was the same sweater he often found you wearing during the early hours of the morning, curled up in a chair in the dining room with a book and a cup of coffee. It became the last tangible link he had to you and, unexpectedly, his most cherished possession.

---

Seated at the dining table, you absentmindedly toyed with the ends of your sweater, awaiting Coriolanus's arrival. It marked the first time in weeks that you'd had a conversation with him, and he had promptly agreed to talk once he finished sorting through his papers. As Coriolanus entered the room, a pang of familiarity struck him; it felt reminiscent of old times when he'd find you in that very sweater, engrossed in a book. Yet, things were starkly different now. No book graced the table, and you seemed diminished in the sweater, the atmosphere devoid of the warmth it once radiated.

Sitting across from you, Coriolanus nervously wiped his hands on his pants and cleared his throat. "You mentioned wanting to speak with me. I apologize for the delay; we encountered funding issues for the upcoming fundraiser at the academy, so I had to make some calls," he said softly.

You appeared transformed from the vibrant person he had known. Your complexion was paler, your eyes lacked their former vivacity, and your hair, no longer meticulously styled, was gathered into a simple bun, stray strands framing your face. Most noticeably, your lips, once adorned with a perpetual smile upon seeing him, now curved into a permanent frown. You were no longer the same, and he knew it was his doing.

"I know about your affair with Evadne," you murmured quietly, your gaze drifting down to the ring on your finger. Coriolanus stiffened at your words. "Don’t concern yourself with her; I dismissed her as soon as I found out. I’ve been managing your schedule, just like old times."

Coriolanus looked down, nodding slowly. "It was a regrettable mistake, one that should never have happened. I have no excuse, and I apologize. I'll do whatever it takes to prove I'll never hurt you like that again," he pleaded, halting as he noticed your lack of response.

"This isn’t about your infidelity, Coriolanus. For months, we haven’t shared a bed, barely breathing the same air until now. I've tried to give you space, but you've become consumed by your work that I don't even get a glance anymore. I wouldn't bring this up unless I felt it necessary. I’ll offer you a choice: me or drowning yourself in your work," you spoke softly, twirling the ring on your finger.

Coriolanus remained silent for a moment, contemplating his next words. "I can't sacrifice my work, Y/N. I'm the President of Panem; everything hinges on me, you know that," he responded quietly. His gaze fixed on your hand as you slid off your ring and pushed it towards him. He had made his choice, and it shattered you more than you believed possible.

You hadn't expected him to relinquish his position. In truth, you had hoped he'd recognize the perfection of your life together when he balanced his personal and professional life. But he was so far gone that your once-private life had disintegrated. You loved Coriolanus dearly, but in the end, this was the best for both of you.

---

Coriolanus removes the sweater from the hanger, clutching it tightly to his chest, then presses it close to his face, inhaling its familiar scent. Crumpling to the ground, he clings to the garment, still redolent of roses and lavender. The fragrance of roses, his doing, a constant presence around you, reminiscent of moments when you tended to the flowers in the rose garden. The lavender, your choice, believed to alleviate the stress that often burdened you. He cherished the scent, often burying his nose in your hair to catch the calming aroma of lavender, a solace during his stressful work times.

Tears trickled down his cheeks, escalating into audible sobs as reality sank in. It had been months since you departed, and Coriolanus, preoccupied with work, attempted to fill his days to avoid noticing your absence. Yet, with the approaching holidays, he couldn’t ignore that you wouldn’t be there to greet him with tender morning kisses or engage in playful debates over home decorations. You were gone, and he had lost you. This, he realized, was his love story—a narrative that ended in losing you. Despite his efforts to locate you, you had vanished into thin air, taking his heart with you.

---

A/N: While writing this, I kept listening to 'Love Story' on repeat, and suddenly, the song felt much more heavier and beautifully sad. I hope you enjoyed reading this one-shot, my holiday gift to you. I promise to diligently work on the next parts of my projects and get them up as soon as possible

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