#let me know if you wish to be or no longer be tagged thank you.
Text
a 'what's next' for scorch and jake preview
a/n: there could be changes to this.
tagging: @thedroneranger @shanimallina87 @peakascum @cherrycola27 @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @averyhotchner @sarcasm-n-insomnia @scoopsr0bin @loveforaugust @murdermornings @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @cornishkat @lovingperfectionsblog @thecraziestcrayon @untoldshortsofthefandoms
The sun is kinder at this hour, gently warming the side of your face as you remove your helmet. You can feel Pete's eyes on you from the other side of his aircraft, climbig out of its cockpit.
When he reaches you, the well-meaning furrow of his brows encourages you to pick up a pace, forcing the older man to look at the back of your head instead of your eyes.
"I'd say we're getting good at this whole flying thing, Captain."
You can imagine the small smirk on his lips.
"Think someone up at the high floors might notice us?"
That makes you laugh out loud. "Don't know if they have time for little guys like you and I, but we can dream. Anyway, we've got a prosperous, trouble-free career ahead of us and plenty of time to suck up to Admirals who will definitely like us very much. Right?"
"Hey, you're the one who wrapped your baby arms around my leg. I tried warning you."
"I was young and impressionable." Reaching the end of the tarmac, you turn to him with a faux wistful expression. That classic Maverick combo of a timid smirk and squinting eyes watches you, amused but perpetually curious. "Yes, Captain Mitchell?"
"I don't want you to overwork yourself. You're doing good. Don't get in your own head about it."
The specific sequence of words does not sound strange to you. Are your protective layers shedding with age? It's the only explanation you can find for how targeted your friends' remarks have been able to sound for a while now.
Your feet readjust on the spot, hands clasped in front of your body with uncharacteristic formality for the both of you.
"Is this because I asked if we could stay up there a little longer to see the sunset? A bit on the emotional side, I know, but- Consider it your first wedding gift."
His eyes take your stance with a cocked brow, earnestly stepping forward, an apprehensive inhale filled with interest.
"Are you nervous about that? You know it's a small cerimony, we're just happy you said you'd do it, it doesn't have to be a big-"
"I'm not." It's curt, raising your hand to stop his rambling. "Let's make sure I keep you away from failing engines, birds, my own bad judgement- Out of harm's way entirely first, get you to your bride in one piece, and then I'll feel performance anxiety over the speech. Sound good?"
It's not hard to pick up concern in Maverick's full, green irises. It's always there, anyway. And he's definitely not scared to bring it up. A preamptive sigh escapes your lips.
"I trust you."
Overflowing with confidence and care, melting your cold-natured shell with a simple shrug of his shoulders and a nod.
"I know, Mav."
Your tone is on the annoyed side, his stubborn eyes making you squirm, but you can't find it in you to walk away yet. Expecting to hear one more promise.
"It'll work." Not quite what you needed. Huffing, you look away, throat singing a muffled note of disagreement, which makes him impatient. "What?"
"'Lot of risks."
"Usually not something Scorcher-deterrent."
"I don't usually get to wingman." A sharp, shooting pain in your chest. A feeling of impotence. "My job is to guarantee that you'll be fine."
There he goes again, looking up at you with certainty he simply expects you to share.
"Which is exactly how I know I will be fi-"
"That kind of talk is for friends and family, Mitchell. For me, it's counterproductive. I have to think about it. I have to consider it, worry. Or do you want me to believe you favored me for this mission because you're biased and not because you know I've got that same strain of unease you do about watching someone else's back? There's something sacrificial in you, and it's in me too, isn't it?” You seem to forfeit breathing, eyes stinging, canine showing. Don’t cry. “And the Navy may not openly encourage it, but it sure comes in handy, and you know that very well. That's why you chose me. So let me do my job."
Chest rising, you think about your backseater and her family asking why you didn't try harder. You think about Rooster's father, seeing it in Pete's eyes that he's doing that too. You think about Jake. And you finally get the urge to leave, hide.
"Is this really about flying?"
Maverick's good intentions. You hate them, you're so grateful for them. You'd never take them for granted.
"It's about everything. But it's fine, comes with the, uhm- You know. I got it."
"Have you talked to him?"
Scoffing, you look around the hangar, almost apprehensive someone will reprimand both of you for gossiping at work.
"Of course not." You turn back to Maverick with folded arms and a dismissive head shake. "But this isn't about that."
You can see it in your friend's face. It's about everything but him?
Lying to Maverick causes an involuntary physical reaction, as if you’re going to fall apart in pieces, clearing your throat to cover for it.
"It was always going to be like that. I prepared for it, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember. But what you two did, you don’t not talk about it." He copies your standoffish posture. It's mocking, grinning up before he frowns again when you don’t react. He inhales sharply, trying not to sigh. "He RSVP'd for this weekend with a plus one. Not a problem, then?"
"Not a problem, Captain." You enphasize the title, straightening your posture as you watch some younger pilots walk by. "Thanks for letting me know."
Maverick raises his eyebrows, licking his teeth. Assessing. "Penny was concerned."
That makes your blood boil. Such a personal situation bleeding into so many lives when you didn't even allow that.
But you bite on your tongue, giving the couple a free pass for the weekend.
"It is pretty." You chuckle at Maverick's puzzled head tilt, pointing behind him. "The sunset."
"Right," He turns around to squint at the softening orange light, but his gaze slips back to you quickly. "See you at dinner?"
Your shoulders tense up thinking about what kind of traps they could set for you, turning to face the short man with a glare.
"Yes, Captain." When he smiles, you know to brace for some bullshit. He punches your shoulder as light as he can, which is still too much, and you cry out embarrassingly. "Jesus fucking Christ."
Standing there massaging your sore muscles, you let the the afternoon hue slowly take you to him. The sun reminds you of his hair. The clear sky reminds you of his sarcastic, obnoxious laughter when you were flying. The warmth reminds you of everything.
--- FLASHBACK ---
5:39 AM
The gym's floor is cold. Awake since two, working out from four to five. Maverick told you to meet him fifteen minutes before the usual start. You had showered and returned to the gym, not knowing where else to wait.
5:41 AM
Your eyes don't leave the pointers, nails digging into your thighs. Two days where you couldn't quite control your breathing. You should've gone with Coyote.
5:42 AM
It's just the machines, and the freezing sterile air, the colorless skin of someone who isn't recovering…
An attempt to inhale turns into a gasp, the butt of your hand massaging your sternum to soothe the tightening.
5:43 AM
A light turning on in the hallway forces you to stand up, jumping to your feet and hoping the captain doesn't get too upset over your lateness.
Your eyes are trained on the floor as you step out into the hallway, deep in thought praying Mav isn't pulling you aside for a heart-to-heart. That's more than your sleep-deprived brain can handle right now.
With a full exhale your gaze lifts right into a figure walking towards you.
His right shoulder sags to the side with the weight of the bag. Quickly scanning the rest of his body, he seems alright otherwise.
"Jake-"
As your eyes land on his face, his seemed to have been watching you the entire time.
He walked slowly, your feet springing back to life and cautiously bringing you closer. No smiles or other cues to assure you things were okay.
When you both stop, your mouth goes dry and the room feels drained of oxygen. Eager to unravel in apologies, you'll never understand why it's so much harder to say sorry when you mean it.
"I wanted to visit you at the hospital."
The rest dies inside your chest. Are you supposed to tell the person who went through an ejection that it was too hard for you?
It feels like ages since you've seen any warmth in the green of his eyes.
His eyebrows raise with an air of irony.
"What is it they say, the good die young, right? Doesn’t sound like me."
Despite the wink he throws you, his voice is weak and doesn't have even half of the attitude commonly attributed to Hangman. Playful tone now replaced by a short breath pushing you away.
He doesn't see the deep frown twisting your features down your face, walking past you with ease.
"Your shoulder, do you want-"
A dismissive hand gesture is all he gives you.
You should get rid of the lump in your throat before you meet Maverick's stumbling good intentions.
The bag slips from his shoulder to his fingers before he gets to his dorm, stopping to catch his breath, hand flexing as if invisible strings try to pull him back, in the direction you went. To you.
Of course his first encounter back at base would be with your somber face.
It seems he could only try and fail to not favor his romantic side. Jake had imagined a whole scene of waking up to your teary eyes and lopsided smile next to his hospital bed, a confession after he (kind of) nearly died. You had walked back on your words before, he could dream.
But you didn't show. And now the petty devil on his shoulder screams at him to fight back.
So he fantasized a different scenario, promising himself he would stick his chin out and breeze past you the next time he saw you. It's comical he has to talk himself up like this but if you wanted nothing to do with him, he would show you he has never had a problem moving on.
Then he noticed the bags under your eyes and the uneven buttons of your shirt, a visible distress unbecoming of you.
He knows you're not the most expressive person. He knows you've lost someone to an ejection before. Despite your stubborness, he knows you struggle. He knows you.
God, you could string him along, on and off, for several eternities if you wanted to - if only you wanted to.
When he steps through the threshold, Coyote has a quip at the ready and he greets him with a forced grin.
"Just in time to pack your bag and leave this dry desert, huh? Smart bastard." Javy zips his bag, and he chuckles. "Had time to think about how you're spending the next few months?"
Jake can feel the muscles in his face morph into a mix of mischief and self-satisfaction.
"Back to old me."
#theres a BIG happening that happened between them - thats what mav is talkn ab#but it remains to be seen if it will be told#thanks to anybody who reads this#let me know if you wish to be or no longer be tagged thank you.#she is both hellfire and holy water#jake seresin x reader
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
#edel vents#disclaimer: really personal issues in the tags. also wishes of death upon others. this is PROBABLY too much information tbh...#so if you're not up for it scroll down fast!!!! the deluge is coming!!!#today was... eventful. bad. also very bad. grandma's birthday celebration was today#and while she... definitely has Old People Issues (racist) shes also very lonely since the death of my grandfather so i can't really not go#i'm the only one who really visits her regularly to begin with#aside from the... very serious racism issue... she's “alright”. i guess. but that's besides the point. there's family there#and among those... my parents. which i don't like to talk to#discovered they threw more of my old stuff away. typical. wanted to strangle them. as usual.#had to “talk” with my mother (read: spend approximately ten seconds reciting exactly why i *don't* talk to her anymore)#so that whole ordeal completely soured my mood.#went home tired. can't really do anything right now.#at least the food was good i guess. but i also really want to cry... which i can't. which sucks.#...i really like to think i've improved as a person. i used to be really hateful of everything and everyone#worst of all myself. still kinda do but i'm... getting better..?#i like to think i've grown past most of it but every time i see my parents i feel this gripping at my heart. as if i haven't really changed#as if instead i'm still the hateful person i “always was” deep down... bc there's this visceral joy that i feel whenever i'm mad at them.#when i looked at my mother and told her how much i despise her i felt a shiver of happiness. righteousness.#to be clear: i do NOT care for her. at all. she's the worst person on this earth#and the only person whom my philosophy of “nobody deserves to die” does NOT apply to. i'm not scared of hating her.#she genuinely deserves this. but...every time i see my parents - and thus her... i feel as if i'm slipping back into that mindset of hatred#i don't want that. not anymore. it consumed me whole. i was a horrible person back then and i've caused so much grief for so many#i can't let go of this hatred. i can't forgive them. they don't deserve my forgiveness anyway. but i'm tired of hating.#i'm tired of letting that hatred define me. i'm tired of letting that hatred direct me. i'm tired of letting it bring me to ruin.#i'm tired of being who i was. i'm no longer “that”. i'm edel now and i'm happy for people now. if i don't like something i just walk out.#i can just leave. “if it sucks hit the bricks” right?.. but i didn't. i had to say it. i had to tell them. her. and i liked it.#and... i'm scared of that. because it tells me i haven't improved.#i'm not sure what i'm expecting out of posting this i guess. maybe help. maybe i wanna be told that this is normal or something.#maybe i just want to get my thoughts in order. i don't know. i'm gonna stop writing now.#sorry for making you read all this. thanks for doing it anyway. tags were cut off on this one btw so it may look like a mess. but. yeah.
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#ooc tag /#hello all once again!#just A quick update for this blog as a whole#i am No Longer Affiliated with Zero / Blake / firstdance / all the other blogs#As such this blog will need to go on Hiatus until I can properly replace the edits and icons and such that they made#this also means that anyone who has since blocked me or refused to interact with me over my affiliation with Zero / Blake#can now freely choose to do so :)))#anyway yeah--#if i do end up coming back to this blog fully it will need a Revamp that I just Cannot be fucked with right now#so yeah! Proper update for my activity here--#Hopefully i'll get shit sorted soon and maybe continue writing here but#who really knows#i havent been active on tumblr in months tbh#shit has just been relentless these past few months so i'm just trying to survive my personal life#let alone writing and managing blogs NBDEBNE#ANYWAY THANKS FOR READING#my inbox is always open; as well as IM's and such if you wish to be in contact!#Toodles~
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
LOVER'S QUARREL
- fushiguro megumi x reader
“i can't do this anymore.”
you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.
genre:
angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)
note:
dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!
a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.
And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.
But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.
You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.
You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.
So how dare he spout this now?
“I can't do this anymore.”
"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"
"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."
This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.
You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"
"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."
Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.
Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.
"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"
Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"
"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"
In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.
And yet...
"...I'm sorry."
Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.
And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."
As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.
Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."
You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.
Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.
Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.
"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.
"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."
"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"
"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."
"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."
. . .
"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.
Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”
Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”
“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”
He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.
Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…
How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?
Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.
With Hakari.
“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.
An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.
Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.
“Megumi?”
Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?
“Megumi!”
“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”
He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."
But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.
"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"
"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.
From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.
...huh?
Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?
What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.
Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—
Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.
How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.
How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.
But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.
“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?
Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?
They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.
What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?
You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!
You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...
"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.
You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."
This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?
Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.
"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.
Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."
You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.
Stay close, he said... So he is worried...
And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.
You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"
"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.
"You two seem close."
Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?
Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"
In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.
You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?
"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.
Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.
But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"
Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.
For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.
Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.
And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"
"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"
He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.
You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"
"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.
"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.
"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"
Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—
At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.
He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—
Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.
You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.
Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.
And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.
"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"
You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.
It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.
"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."
Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.
"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.
"Don't leave me."
It was like a distant, hazy memory.
Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.
The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.
You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.
Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.
Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.
Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...
You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.
"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."
When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.
"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."
You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.
“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.
He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.
"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.
However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."
...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?
"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."
"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"
"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"
“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”
Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.
"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"
You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.
You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"
"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.
He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."
And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."
Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."
And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.
“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”
A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.
But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."
And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.
"Maybe I am, yeah."
"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."
"Yeah..."
But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.
On one sunny day...
"Hey, are you alone?"
Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.
"No. Can I help you?"
The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"
The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—
Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.
"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."
Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.
"Megumi!"
Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—
He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.
"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"
#fushiguro megumi x reader#jjk x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader angst#megumi fushiguro x reader fluff#megumi fushiguro x reader angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader fluff#fushiguro x reader#megumi x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk imagines#fushiguro megumi fluff#fushiguro megumi x y/n#fushiguro megumi angst#jjk#megumi fluff#megumi fushiguro#jjk angst#jjk fluff
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
Peaches And Cream
Summary: Joel loves the taste of you, and you love being his favorite dessert
Warnings: explicit sexual content, mature themes, overstimulation, fingering, oral sex, slightly dom Joel, submissive reader, implied sex, praise kink, dirty talk
A/N: if anyone wishes to be added to my Pedro/or Joel tag list please let me know and I’ll be happy to add you. Heart, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and supportive. Thanks! XOXO
Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @livingdeadmaria @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24 @trisaratops-mcgee @subconsciouscollapse @hooked-on-penapascal27 @red-red-rogue @fellinfromthetop @drewharrisonwriter @vickie5446
Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989
Hall Of Hunks
〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️
Feeling absolutely reduced to a hot and sweaty mess as you laid underneath Joel. Who was staring at your disheveled face. A look of pride written across his face as your body trembled around him.
“I’ve never seen you cum so much sweetheart.” Praising you as a hand covers your eyes in embarrassment. “You did so good for me baby.”
That powerful and mind blowing release had you almost in tears. Trying with all your might not to just cry in front of him. Feeling like that might weird him out a little bit. Since he could take tears as being in pain or discomfort, and then he would stop, and you didn’t want him to stop. Your body was feeling overwhelmed as it continued to shake underneath his fingertips.
“Let me see those pretty eyes.” His deep voice persuades you as your hands slowly moved away from your face to look up at his smirking one.
“Joel.” Whining his name as he snickers keeping his cock still absolutely still inside of you.
“Whadda you need pretty girl?” He teases feeling your cunt clenching around you making him groan.
Joel knew exactly what you wanted, but was still too shy to say anything to him. He always helped you ease your way into expressing what you wanted with him. Giving you a little bit without asking him, and then getting you to finally speak up. Carefully pulling out from your raw cunt your body jolting at the sensitivity from the sudden loss of him. Feeling his cum ooze out of your body his hand massaging your inner thigh soothingly.
“Fuck me baby girl look at you.” Watching as his liquid spilled out of you and trailed down between your cheeks. He was licking his lips wanting nothing more than to lick it all up, and taste how delicious you both were mixed. That’s exactly what he did too.
His hot mouth attaching to your puffy and still wet cunt. Hands reaching out to grip onto his hair as his tongue flicked back and forth on your clit. Back arching off the bed as he slurped away, hands gripping your inner knees as he kept them pushed apart so he had full and complete access to you. Body feeling like it was on fire as he thrusted his thick tongue inside of you. Rotating your hips around to feel more as his nose brushed against your clit.
“Oh god.” Crying out as your orgasm was already swiftly approaching still extremely sensitive from your previous release. Joel looking up at your remarkable expression unable to look anywhere else. Loving that he was the one in control feeling like he held all the power in your pleasure, and it made him feel like a god.
Reaching a hand over to your pelvis as his thumb started to rub circles on your nub. Your senses heightened and overwhelmed not knowing how much longer you were gonna be able to last. Joel could tell that you were fighting to keep going, and he knew what would help you reach the finish line.
“Tastes like peaches baby girl.” His low voice sends you over the edge as your body starts to crumble. Your ribcage rising and falling with each quick breath. Hands falling down to your side feeling loose and numb. Stomach trembling from the resounding orgasm you just experienced. Your battered cunt was so sore from being stretched and abused over and over again.
Feeling a pair of soft lips gently caressing your thighs and inner knees a trail of saliva being left behind. Sex was always amazing with Joel, but the one thing you loved just as much was the aftercare. His touch was always so gentle and comforting as he would help ease you through each orgasm.
“Fucked that pretty cunt so good, didn’t I?” His crude language had your thighs twitch, and you loved it all the same. Joel already knew the answer to the question, but he loved the reactions you would give him just for saying certain words.
“So proud of you my sweet peach.” His nickname had you smiling as Joel pulled you into his arms and laid you on top of his warm body. Listening to the sound of his heart beating, and the rise and fall of his chest was easing you into a slumber like state. “I’m not done with you yet though baby girl.”
#Pedro pascal#Joel miller#Pedro pascal x reader#Joel miller x reader#Pedro pascal smut#Joel miller smut#pedro pascal fanfic#Joel miller fanfic#Pedro pascal blurb#Joel miller blurb#Pedro pascal fic#Joel miller fic
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
THINK I FORGOT, HOW TO BE HAPPY.
⤷ what was I made for? | something i’m made for
જ⁀➴ synopsis: after hanging out with Suguru's friends, you head home and can't wait to bury it down like you always do. But when your boyfriend insists on knowing what upset you, the night takes a turn for the worst.
જ⁀➴ word count: 2,8k
જ⁀➴ content warning: fem!reader, hurt/no comofrt, angst, fights, suguru is a little mean and says mean shit but reader isn’t any better.
જ⁀➴ note: sorry for the long wait, i'm struggling to work on many things at once. but a huge thank you for showing the first part so much love! it was truly unexpected.
ʚ⁺˖ ⤷ tag list: @error404-tryagain @fiannee @anarosextodo @ayeputita (couldn't tag everyone for some reason, my bad!)
⤷ comments and reblogs are much appreciated!
Suguru remembers when he first fell in love with you, how his face felt warm when you wrapped your arms around him and told him to have a safe trip, the little bag of goodies you had prepared for him sitting atop of his suitcase. He remembers pulling you into a deep kiss in the middle of a crowded airport, and he wasn’t a huge fan of PDA, has never been—but something about you caring for him, preparing food for his flight and showing up as he was about to board made his heart leap out of his chest.
Your first I love you to each other was shared when you realized you couldn’t handle being away from each other for longer than a day. You move in together shortly after he returns from his travel.
You don’t remember when you started to feel out of place, but it makes its way up and towards the back of your head like a parasite—your emotions were always too much for anyone to handle. You recently had a breakdown over messing up at work, and you’ve never seen Suguru look more lost than when he tried to comfort you. His eyebrows are furrowed in concern, he looks defeated when you refuse to let him touch or hug you. You were a mess, and he couldn’t do anything about it.
When you do calm down and are finally able to breathe properly, your brain flashes you little moments from your breakdown like a flashback—almost as though to shame and embarrass you for the way you behaved, all while your perfect boyfriend looks defeated at your lack of cooperation. You’re not sure if it is true, you hope that it’s not—but you see Suguru sit at the edge of the bed and bury his face in his hands and he curses under his breath. He looks tired.
It’s because of me.
When Suguru notices that your breakdowns become less frequent, he is convinced that you are slowly working towards getting better, praises and showers you with compliments. This is the Suguru you always want to see, full of life and love and not the one you saw that night.
And so you decide that from now on, Suguru wasn’t made to see you at your lowest.
--
Dinner ends an hour later and you almost run out of the restaurant and towards the car. Suguru is quick to join you, and from the corner of your eyes, you see Gojo standing near his car and his eyes are staring into your soul. You were grateful that he didn’t tell your boyfriend about the bathroom incident. You confided in the male at such a vulnerable moment and you would’ve been pretty upset if he went against your wishes.
You’re as quiet as ever as Suguru starts the car and drives away. You’re mindful of the way you sit not to face Suguru, and decide on letting him pick the songs to play on the way back. And your boyfriend doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re avoiding him like the plague, after all this wasn’t the first time you were eerily quiet on the way back home. But you were wrong.
Suguru watches you as you walk inside your shared apartment and remove your shoes. You’re not wearing any specific expression indicating that you might be upset. After all, you did have a habit of frowning as a resting face. But it feels different as you quietly greet your cat with a head pat, choosing to head to the kitchen first since you knew Suguru would go to the bathroom for a quick shower.
You were avoiding him.
“Did I do something?” Your boyfriend watches as you halt your movements, the glass of water in your hand long forgotten as you stare at him wide eyed, like a deer caught in headlights.
“Huh?”
“You’re avoiding me, did something happen?” Suguru tries to remember the night you spent outside. He has no clear memory of saying or doing something that you might’ve tipped you over the edge, so what was wrong? You were never this quiet.
“I’m fine, Sugu. You didn’t do anything.” The smile you flash him does anything but reassure him. You ignore the frown that sits on his face and you turn around, your back facing him as you try to busy yourself with something—anything, but facing the man you called your boyfriend.
“Then why are you acting so distant?” So he was able to pick up on it. You hoped that he wouldn’t be able to, maybe breaking up with him would be much easier that way. You are quiet as ever as you turn around and walk toward the fridge.
You were distant because Suguru wasn’t supposed to see you like this, he wasn’t supposed to know how much of an insecure mess you were when he was around, how you were desperately trying to get him to fall out of love. You can barely say I love you to him without feeling guilty about it. Did you truly deserve his love? It felt like he was wasting his time on someone as miserable as you.
“I am not distant, just tired.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, you were tired. You wanted to sleep so badly, wanted to drown the lingering thoughts of never feeling enough as Suguru’s girlfriend, but feeling whole and complete when you are yourself outside of your relationship. This was a you problem, and dragging Suguru down with you felt a little unfair.
“You were crying in the restaurant.” Your heart stills at this. “But you lied and said you were fine.”
“Did Satoru—“
“Satoru doesn’t know you better than I do.” His tone is sharp, and you’re taken aback by the harsh way he chooses to address you. Was this about to escalate into something else? You didn’t want it to, you didn’t have the energy to fight back and tell him to choose his tone carefully. You might’ve been the easy-going, kind girlfriend—but you weren’t going to tolerate disrespect from his part.
“You’re right, he doesn’t.” You sound almost defeated, and you put your glass in the sink before wiping your hands on the towel. Suguru stands near the kitchen island, and watches you with cat-like eyes. You were barely looking his way, the dark circles under your eyes prominent despite your effort at covering them up with make-up. When did Suguru start paying less attention to you? Or did you simply never allow him to see you like this, vulnerable and exhausted. His heart aches in his chest.
“So you won’t tell me?” You’re about to walk away when he decides to speak, and you heave out a long sigh when you realize that the night was taking a turn for the worst.
“Tell you what?” You mumble under your breath, and you refuse to meet Suguru’s cold eyes. You can feel them on your skin, they’re intense and trying to read you like a book. Perhaps if you don’t look his way, his stare would feel less intimidating.
“Would you please just stop?” Suguru rests his elbows on his the surface of the kitchen island, burying his face in his hands. “I’m really trying to figure out what’s wrong, and you’re not helping.”
“Maybe because I don’t want to tell you what’s wrong.” Your response comes out almost immediately, and the frustration you’ve been suppressing all night suddenly resurfaces. Months of trying to play it cool, sweeping your insecurities under the rug and hoping that a kiss from Suguru would fix all of your problems, it was all piling up into this huge bubble. And the more persistent your boyfriend was, the harder it was to stay quiet.
“What do you mean you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong?” Suguru’s voice is a little bit louder, and he’s almost in disbelief at your words. You were dating, you slept on the same bed, ate on the same table and cuddled on the same couch. You weren’t a girl he started dating last month, or a person he was testing out the waters with—you weren’t even a potential lifetime partner, but he was almost certain that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.
“Because it’s useless to whine to you about shit you don’t need to know. My problems are mine, you don’t have to fix me.” You feel yourself shake a little the more you speak, your heart is beating fast at the realization that this was a conflict—you were creating a conflict and it felt suffocating.
“Fix you—who said I have to fix you?”
“Right, no one did—Suguru, just drop it. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But I do.” His tone is sharp, and his hands are curled up in fists. His eyes are staring you down the same way he looks at strangers—threatening, cold and mean. You find yourself tearing up and it makes you feel stupid. You started this, you’re the one who doesn’t feel enough in the relationship—you’re the one being mean, and yet a single look from Suguru has you almost bursting into tears? Pathetic. You felt pathetic and weak, and the longer your boyfriend stared at you, the harder it was to maintain a normal breathing pattern.
“Suguru, I don’t want to talk about it.” You try again, and you hope that your voice doesn’t betray and breaks. Tonight has been exhausting enough, and the thought of having to speak up what has been on your mind for months now makes your chest feel incredibly tight.
“You’re being selfish.”
Selfish? You were being selfish?
You stare at Suguru in disbelief and he immediately realizes how badly he must’ve fucked up because the tears start falling down your cheeks almost instantly. You, who has been pushing her feelings to the side for the sake of his happiness, were selfish? You, who can’t even remember the last time you were truly happy about something, were selfish? This is bullshit.
“I’m selfish?” Your chin quivers pathetically, and Suguru is quick to reach a hand towards you to hold you, but you flinch away from his hold, arms wrapped you to give yourself the comfort Suguru wanted to give you.
“I am selfish, me?!” Your voice is getting louder, but you didn’t care. All the frustration, all the sadness and insecurities were all coming up to the surface because of one single comment.
“Baby, I didn’t—“
“Don’t call me that, don’t you fucking dare touch me!” You move away when he attempts to hold you. “I’m selfish because I don’t wanna tell my perfect boyfriend with his perfect personality about my shitty problems. That’s just fucking great, isn’t it?”
The last time Suguru saw you like this was months ago and he doesn’t even realize it until now. All those times where you would brush off something that would normally set you off, give him a tight lipped smile and tell him not to worry.
“Your problems aren’t shitty, you don’t even want to talk about them!”
“Because every time I tried, it felt like I was robbing you of your fucking happiness, Suguru!” Your voice is loud. “Every time I realized that my mood was ruined, I could only think of how you must be fed up with me.”
“But I’m not? I never even said that I was fed up!” Suguru’s body language completely changes, and suddenly he’s not even trying to comfort you. More so understand where all of this was coming from.
“Your face says it all and fuck--” You groan into your face, your cheeks flushed from frustration.
“Oh so now it’s my face?” You raise your head to stare at him. “One moment you’re saying it’s how I behave, but now it’s all in my face?”
“You’re missing the whole point, Suguru—“
“No, I’m not missing anything! You are the one who created this situation, you’re the one who decided to pull away!” Each word feels like a knife being stabbed into your heart. You stare at the man who usually gives you warm, sweet smiles and all of that is replaced with a cold angry look.
“Suguru—“
“Selfish. Yeah, actually I don’t take it back. You are selfish,”
“Stop.” your lips quivers.
“Because if you actually wanted this to work out, you would tell me what’s wrong instead of finding excuses.”
“You’re being mean, Sugu.”
Your boyfriend groans out of frustration and leans against the kitchen counter. You stand still next to the fridge, tears streaming down your face. You try to stop and wipe them away, but it feels as though you really needed this more than anything.
“I want to take a break.” You say quietly and Suguru’s head snaps up almost immediately.
“What?”
“I want to take a break from this—from you, I don’t think I can do it anymore.”
Instead of giving you a proper reply, Suguru storms out of the kitchen and grabs his jacket and car keys and is out of the house in less than a minute. You are frozen in your spot as you let the words you just uttered out loud sink in, and there’s a sense of guilt. You are pulling away from your relationship, you’re willingly taking a break and not looking back, but does it matter anymore?
This was by far your biggest fight with your boyfriend, and the way he stormed out at the mention of taking a break makes you want to crawl in a hole and die. But not anymore.
You can’t even remember the last time you were happy, and for it to go on for so long was so draining and tiring. You could barely recognize yourself anymore. Your feet take you towards your shared bedroom with Suguru and you start packing some of your stuff. Whether he agrees to the break or not is not important, because you were doing this for yourself. And if Suguru truly cared about you, he would let you do what is best for you.
--
Suguru didn’t know where he was going, he just wanted to get away from you and as soon as possible. The roads are empty, and he isn’t driving recklessly. In fact, he’s probably driving so slowly that it would look suspicious to anyone on the outside.
He parks the car on the side of the road and rests his forehead on the steering wheel. When did it turn into this? When did he become so absorbed in his personal life that he stopped including you or care for you? Suguru doesn’t want to blame himself, but it’s a little difficult. He thought he was living this picture perfect life with you, under one roof with a single pet and future plans ahead of you. But to fuck up this badly and call you selfish simply because you were struggling on your own was horrible.
And to make things worse, he stormed out of the house and left you there all alone. He groans into his hands.
“Fuck.” He wants to fix this. He doesn’t want a break, he doesn’t think that it’s necessary. But you looked serious about it, maybe he could talk you out of it.
He grabs his phone and dials your number, and when it takes a while for you to pick up he just knows that you must’ve been contemplating whether or not you wanted to take the call. Eventually, you do answer.
“I’m sorry,” the line on your side is quiet, so he continues. “I fucked up, I don’t think I should’ve said what I said and—“
“It’s not your fault.” Your nose is stuffed, but Suguru can tell from the tone of your voice that you were tired. “But I need some space, Suguru.”
Some space… So you were considering the break.
“We can work it out, we don’t have to take a break or anything, we can go on a date tomorrow morning and—“
“I called a cab, I’m going back to my place.” You cut him off, and Suguru hears you lock the door to his apartment. “I’m doing this for myself and for us,” Suguru closes his eyes when he realizes that there was truly no hope in talking you out of it.
“Okay… can I still text you?”
“No,” you reply quietly. “I don’t wanna think about you for a while.” He tries not to feel hurt but it’s difficult.
“I understand.” The line goes quiet for a while, and Suguru hears a few sniffles from your side and sighs.
“We’ll be okay, yeah?”
“Yeah,” You wipe a few tears. “I have to go now.”
“I love you.” Suguru waits for a response, and when you take too long to answer, his chest tightens a little.
“Take care, Sugu.”
2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
#moon's works#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen imagine#geto x reader#geto suguru#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen suguru#getou suguru x reader#suguru geto#getou suguru x you#getou suguru x y/n#geto x you#jjk angst#geto angst
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
"look what you do to me" with ye olde cregan I BEG
worthy of you.
Cregan thinks his little brother is not worthy of a woman like you, which is why he takes the opportunity to show you that he is the one for you.
MASTERLIST
PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader / (Side) Masc!OC x Fem!Reader.
TAGS — smut (f!oral sex, p in v, praise kink, loss of virginity), mentions of cheating, mentions of alcohol consumption, cursing, OC is a terrible man, older!cregan, widower!cregan, age gap (early 20s and early 30s). If something is missing let me know!!
AUTHOR'S NOTE — first of all, a big thank you to my gorgeous @bucknastysbabe for being my beta reader and helping me edit this, ily!! i got a bit inspired by this plot and it's longer than i expected💀
Thank you Bel for sending this request because i loved writing this!! I hope you enjoy it!!🤍
WORD COUNT — 4.3k
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.
How cruel were the gods when they put you in his brother's arms instead of the ones you craved the most.
The first time that Lord Stark laid his eyes upon you, he felt the air leaving his lungs, and his voice being caged inside his throat. His eyes immediately widened at the beautiful sight of you, bewitched by the way you so politely greeted him, and mesmerized by the way you uttered his name. Cregan was in awe, trying to ignore the feeling in his gut and the quickened pace of his heart as he smelled the sweet scent of vanilla coming from your hair. He wondered if you were some kind of nymph, effortlessly enchanting him with a single glance.
After the loss of his wife, few were the women who managed to catch his eye. A couple of balls were made, and they all resulted in the same thing; a group of ladies following him around, showering him with shallow compliments and words that he did not wish to hear.
How lucky he felt when he saw you walking in with your father, Lord Reed, into the ballroom, and how miserable he left that night after learning you were betrothed to his young brother; Edrik, a careless young man who —according to Lord Stark— is not worthy of you. At all. He's ruthless, the opposite of a chivalrous man. Cregan knows that while you were waiting for him for dinner, he's fucking some whores in brothels and paying with gold that he would steal from Cregan's chambers. He despised him. He was ashamed of him, and his behaviour towards you. You were a lady, a delicate and sweet girl who could have found someone better.
Someone like himself, he would think.
At that moment, while you were nervously chewing your nails sitting at the small table of your chambers as you drank tea, Cregan was out there searching for his younger brother, and trying to force him back to the Winterfell castle. That very same day was supposed to be your wedding, and the groom was nowhere to be seen. You knew better than to cry, you didn't want to suffer for him anymore; so you just sat there, slowly tapping your fingertips against the delicate porcelain of the cup, staring at the crackling fireplace and thinking about something else.
At that point, you were just begging for him to be alive and well. Nothing more.
A few minutes passed when you saw Cregan entering your chambers with his grey eyes staring intensely at you as he walked inside. His heavy boots stumped against the wooden floor, prompting you to stand up a bit too quickly. You noticed the pitiful look in his eyes when he noticed you were still wearing that white wedding dress; his heart shattered for you.
“Did you find him?” you dared to speak first. Somehow, your voice came out colder than both of you expected.
“We did,” he nodded. “He was in a brothel… drunk and enjoying his last hours of freedom, as he said.” The annoyed tone of his voice was quite clear to hear as he spat every single word with rage and even shame.
Gods forgive him for this insurmountable wrath towards his kin.
“Where is he now?” The question slipped out of your lips merely out of habit.
“In his chambers, being bathed by one of the maids,” Cregan explained, unable to bear the vision of your tears gathering in the corner of your eyes. He sought to look at a place over your shoulder, just to ease the ache in his chest.
It wasn't sadness, not at all. It was ire; he knew it. It was supposed to be your special day, and your betrothed decided to ruin it, though you were not surprised.
“Is it the maid that sucks his cock every morning? Or is it the one that let him fuck her in the arse?” you mockingly mentioned, lifting the cup of tea and sipping it slowly. The knot in your throat was becoming unbearable, too tight and barely letting you utter a word.
Cregan's eyes softened with sorrow. “My lady,” he started, daring to take a step closer to you. The small rounded table was the only thing keeping you two apart. “Allow me to apologize for the misbehaviour of my brother, you deserve the utmost respect from whoever is lucky enough to marry you. Edrik is childish, and his actions often bring shame to our family name.”
“You shall not apologize for your brother's mistakes,” you softly said, sighing tiredly at this situation repeating over and over again. “You're an honourable man, Lord Stark, it's a pity your brother is not even half of the man you are.”
Cregan felt his heart tapping against his chest, even under those thick layers of fur, he was still able to hear how fast it was beating. His eyes briefly looked away from you out of shyness, feeling so flustered by your mere presence. Oh, gods, this was excruciating; seeing you there with your beautiful eyes staring up at him, looking so fragile and bewitching. The white dress fit you perfectly, you were radiant that night, and he cursed at his brother for looking down on you.
Edrik was a dumb boy. Luckily, Cregan was a wise man.
“It pains me to know he doesn't appreciate you,” he muttered as he took unhurried steps closer to you. “You deserve so much more.”
“It's the best I can get, I suppose,” you shrugged. “At least my betrothed is indulging his uncontrollable lust with whores instead of forcing himself on me. It could be worse.”
“But it's not supposed to be bad at all,” Cregan discussed. “A husband has to provide for his wife, and treat her with respect.”
His hand approached your left cheek and he placed it there, cupping your face. Your soft skin felt his calloused fingers and suddenly all the air of your lungs vanished. Your lips parted, and that simple gesture blurred Cregan's mind with the urge to devour them. As he looked down at you, you could see in his eyes that there was a rare sparkle in them. It was so mesmerizing.
“I guess you're asking too much from your brother, my Lord.”
He scoffed.
“If only the gods had been more merciful of us, you would be my wife instead,” he mentioned with a wistful tone. He took another step, and now you were able to smell the pine scent from his clothes. “We probably would be in our private celebration by now.”
You sighed delightedly as his thumb went to your lower lip, lightly touching it as he glanced at it. Falling in love with him had been so easy; he was so kind, so courteous and gentle. Whenever his brother was cruel and mean to you, he was always there to make you feel good. Many were the times you imagined this wedding being with him instead of Edrik.
“I would be looking at your beautiful body as you remove this gown. Only for me to see,” he whispered, his touch going downwards until he grabbed the pearls around your neck. “I would take my time to appreciate every single inch of your skin, touching you… kissing you, making sure you know you're the most beautiful maiden in Westeros.”
His face leaned towards you, and you felt his nose rubbing against your cheek as you closed your eyes. His deep, low voice sent shivers down your spine while your mind was imagining every single word that came out of his plump lips. His touch reached down your sides until you felt his strong grip on your waist.
Cregan took a deep breath as he smelled your sweet perfume; he couldn't help but sigh.
“I would pleasure you in so many ways,” he continued, his voice so raspy it made your knees weak. “With my mouth, my hands… until all that comes from your lips is my name.”
“Cregan…” you breathed out, and he hummed in delight.
“Yes, just like that.”
You dared to open your eyes, meeting his and seeing how they were dilated and glazed with lust; yours were probably in the same state. You were able to feel the heat between your legs, almost causing you to squirm to make you feel something. Something to sate the intense desire crawling around your body.
“I would do so many things to you, my darling,” he murmured. “Would you like me to do them?”
You nodded.
“Yes?”
“Yes,” you replied, embarrassingly fast.
His hands went to your back, calloused fingers finding their way to untie your gown. Your chest was against his, and the closeness did nothing but increase your desperation to have him.
“My brother doesn't deserve you, does he? He is just a stupid boy, and you deserve a man.” You felt the dress loosening around your body and you swallowed hard at the expectation. “Please, let me be that man for you…”
You were unable to bear it any longer, the temptation being too much. You closed the distance between you two at the same time he started to slip the dress down your body — until it pooled around your feet. His lips fit perfectly against yours, they were slightly chapped due to the cold, yet they felt heavenly. He moaned against your mouth when you boldly deepened the kiss by grabbing Cregan’s nape and pulling him closer to you, all while his hands pressed your lower back.
It was slow and passionate, taking your breath away as he claimed your mouth with his tongue, swirling against yours and stealing soft whimpers from you. Soon, he grabbed your thighs to lift you and sat you on the table; the cup of tea spilling to stain your white undergown, you couldn't care less. His lips on yours were all you could think of as his hands gripped your body, pressing you against him.
The thin skirt of your undergown lifted as you wrapped your legs around Cregan’s waist, and his hands began to sneak under it to touch the soft skin of your thighs. He left a heat on your body with his fingertips, one that made you desperate to feel him. All while his mouth was reluctant to leave yours, obsessed with the sweet taste of you. He would unconsciously groan, and as he pressed his hips against yours you could easily notice the effect you had on him.
He pulled away to take a look at you, he found your swollen lips glistening with remains of your and his drool. Your eyes were sparkling as stars and your breathing growing agitated. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that Cregan Stark had fallen in love with you once again at that moment.
“You should belong to me instead,” he huskily said. “I should be the one who takes your body-”
“Do it,” you interrupted without doublethinking it. Your tone was decided and demanding, it shocked him a little.
“Oh, my little one…” he murmured with a strained voice as if the thought had left him breathless.
“I don't want your brother… I never did.” Your confession drew a small smile on his lips. “Since day one all I've wanted is you.”
He took a deep breath before cupping your face with both of his hands, forcing you to look him in the eye.
“Look what you do to me,” he murmured as you stared at his face, noticing a rare glow in him. “Believe me when I say your feelings are mutual… you've been on my mind ever since you arrived. It was torturous to see you being disregarded by Edrik while I was sitting there wishing I could just hold your hand. My heart, my body, my soul, it all aches for you. I'm desperate to feel you, and I cannot bear it any longer.”
The despair in his voice, so clear and vivid.
“Allow me to do it,” he pleaded, “I'm begging you to let me have a taste of you, at least for a night… so I can finally end this torment.”
“I will accept,” you managed to say in small gasps. “Only if you promise me this won't be the last time.”
He nodded. “I promise.”
The time was not wasted, you quickly leaned forward to kiss him again with the same intensity and need as before. Both of you moaned against each other while your hands were swiftly untying his snow-covered coat at the same time his were pulling down your undergown until it fell down your arms. Your breasts were freed and you couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed; no man had seen you in such a vulnerable state before. However, all insecurities vanished from your overthinking mind once he laid his eyes on your chest and sighed, enamoured by the view.
He gave you a single glance at you to ask for your permission and, once you nodded, his fingers travelled down your body until they trapped your nipples. He gently squeezed them between his digits, soft enough to not cause you any discomfort but hard enough to make them peak. Your mouth was slightly parted, allowing silent gasps to fall down your lips as he admired your pure flesh. He leaned forward then, and you instinctively leaned back; before you noticed his tongue was lapping at one of your sensitive buds, swirling around it and nibbling on it from time to time. You held your body up with your forearms, closing your eyes once he sucked on it. A moan escaped you as he pulled apart from it and went to the other one, giving it the same attention.
His hand was grabbing the small of your back as you touched his hair, tangling your fingers in his brown locks and pulling them whenever his tongue made you feel butterflies in your belly. It was so good, and you were blissful thinking that you were doing it with him. Your ever-kind and loving Lord of Winterfell.
Suddenly, his mouth traced a path down your body, licking and kissing your belly until he reached your pelvis. You lifted your hips once his hands started to pull down your last vestiges of coverage, and in mere seconds you were completely exposed to him as your cheeks got warm once again.
Your legs were spread by his hands on your inner thighs, and Cregan was able to see the mess in your core; you were soaking, and his mouth watered with the urge to taste you. For a few seconds, he was just there admiring you, and then he started to kiss your legs from your ankles, all the way to your hips, shamelessly marking you and leaving red bruises behind; you loved it.
Cregan gave you a quick look, noticing how you were almost shaking with expectation; your eyes reluctant to leave his frame as his thumb spread your swollen lower lips and exposed that little, throbbing button begging for his attention. He stuck out his tongue, slowly brushing it against your clit. You almost died there. Your hand immediately went back to his hair, pulling it a bit too harshly for his liking.
“Sh…” he cooed, kissing your inner thighs in the meantime. “Come on, little one, let me make you feel good, I know you want it.”
Gods, you did. You need it.
“Keep your legs open for me, and let me have my feast,” he murmured before his tongue lapped on your pearl again.
The way he teased your flesh so sensually made your limbs shake. You were gasping as he licked and kissed every single part of you, lurking around and trying to discover your most sensitive spot. Once he found it, you saw stars.
Your betrothed was far from your mind when Cregan dared to push one of his long, thick fingers inside your weeping hole. You cried out his name as your legs shook around his head and, as he curled up his fingers to rub your walls, you felt a knot in your belly starting to form and begging to be released. Goosebumps erupted over your stimulated body.
“Gods… Cregan!” you found yourself whining. He hummed delighted with the way his name sounded from your lips.
His tongue fervently began to flick your clit as he added another finger, pumping them slowly but deeply. The sound of your juices coating his digits was becoming addictive; so sinful, yet heavenly. He was desperate to feel you all.
As he moaned and whimpered against your soaked flesh, you couldn't help but feel an unknown sensation in your gut; as if you were about to explode. Your heart was beating incredibly fast as you leaned your head back and let your mouth spill thousands of obscene sounds; Cregan's cock twitched in his pants the moment he looked up at you.
Gods, you were so fucking beautiful. It was not fair that you belonged to someone else.
Suddenly, with a shout of shock, you felt yourself peak. You gasped loudly and you clenched your eyes shut. Cregan felt your walls squeezing his fingers so deliciously as he drank from you and licked you clean. By the end of it, you were sweating, breathing fast and your hips twitching. You turned into a quivering mess.
Cregan lifted his face, giving one wolfish look before quickly grabbing your cheeks. He desperately kissed you as he groaned in ecstasy. You tasted yourself on his lips as he picked you up and took you towards the bed… the very same bed you were supposed to be sharing with your betrothed that night.
The guilt hit you, briefly making you feel dirty and sullied. But then, as you saw Cregan slowly removing his attires, you remembered who was your betrothed, and what he was doing earlier that day. If he could fuck a whore, why couldn't you fuck another man? You doubted the lesser brother would even notice.
Besides, it wasn't just a man, it was Cregan. Your Cregan.
So, now, as the handsome man in front of you removed his last piece of clothing, you felt your walls clench around nothing as you glanced at his cock. His head furiously red, already leaking and twitching as he started to crawl from the bottom of the bed until he was between your legs. He kissed you again, this time slower… more tenderly. You sighed against his lips.
“You're still a maiden,” he said as a statement rather than a question. You nodded, either way, confirming his words. “Then I'll go slow… though I must warn you, it might hurt for a bit, but I promise you, little one, it'll all be worth it in the end.”
“I trust you,” you whispered as your hand reached his cheek, gently caressing his stubble.
“Open your legs for me, my darling,” he commanded, and you did as he said. He looked down at your entrance, “seven hells…” he groaned at the sight, before spitting down to his cock and stroking it a few times. Cregan swiped the ruddy tip of his prick against your folds, teasing them to hear you moan one more time before carefully pressing the blunt head against your entrance.
You cried out once he started to stretch you out, feeling the slight burn that left you breathless as he made his way inside the tight hole between your trembling legs. You closed your eyes and opened your mouth; Cregan noticed your discomfort, so he brought his thumb to your clit, tracing slow circles on it and trying to make you relax. You let out a shaky breath, chest heaving through the pinch.
Your tightness would try to push him away as tried to go deeper, yet he found a way to keep going until he was fully buried inside of you, whimpering your name. Your soft walls felt so fucking good around him, almost making the man drool against your shoulder. His sweaty forehead was pressed against your cheek and you could hear his ragged breathing in your ear, causing chills down your spine. He gave you a moment to forget about the pain, all while he peppered your neck with soft kisses and gentle bites.
“I think I have just reached heaven,” he murmured, his voice sounding so deep and seductive. “So tight, so small around my cock…” he continued words that left his mouth before he could even think about them.
“I- I feel so full…” you muttered, feeling his length pulsing inside of you.
“Shh… I know, my darling, just take deep breaths for me,” he commanded you, and you obeyed. His thumb pushed slightly harder against your clit and you hummed. “Mhm, does that feel nice? My beautiful girl, you're doing such a good job for me,” he praised you, “taking me so well.”
“Feels good…” you nodded.
“It does, doesn't it?” he softly chuckled. “Gods, the way your sweet little pussy takes my cock makes me fucking crazy. Can- can I move? Fuck– Is it okay if I start moving?”
His gentleness and softness did little to make you forget about the way he spoke to you. His dirty words made you clench around his girth, feeling butterflies in your lower belly. You needed Cregan to move and bring back the effervescent heat.
“Please, do,” you begged, and he wasted no time in obeying.
His mouth dropped open as he dragged his cock out of your tightness, noticing how it was covered by your slickness. He pushed in again, filling you and causing you to moan in simultaneous discomfort and pleasure. His left hand went to your hip, grabbing your skin and going deeper inside of you. Slowly at first, he started to fasten his pace until the sound of your bodies colliding against each other was mixed with your moans.
Your hands wrapped around his shoulders as he hid his face on your neck, his harsh breathing causing chills on your skin as he moved slowly but forcefully; such a perfect pace to make you see stars. Your legs were bent at each side of his body, while he took you and claimed your shaky frame. Soon you realized that he had not lied, it felt magnificent once the pain started to fade away.
His name would escape your lips as if it was an endless chant, incentivizing him to keep going, to continue his movements until you couldn't bear it anymore. A layer of sweat would cover your body as Cregan's weight was on top of you, it felt as if you were burning yet you didn't want to push him away. You craved to feel his skin on you, loving the way his pelvis would brush against your throbbing clit each time he thrusts into you.
“Fuck, my darling,” he groaned in your ear, “your pussy was made for me to fuck,” he whimpered, biting your earlobe. You replied with a whine. “So fucking delicious, feeling so tight around my cock.”
Cregan lifted his face to look at your messy state. The eye contact that followed almost made you reach your peak once again, it was all so intense it made your head spin. Your nails dug into his flesh and he whispered your name; you hummed in response.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmured.
He further quickened the pace, his cock now touching that sweet spot of yours. Your walls would clench around him as you felt the much-needed orgasm approaching. A ring of your juices appeared on his cock, and he changed positions so now he was on his knees, grabbing your hips and fucking you faster, rougher.
He saw your breasts bouncing on your chest as he thrusted into you, the sight so arousing that he felt his cock twitch inside of you. His stones were full, ready to burst at any moment now. However, no matter how much he desired it, he knew he just couldn't release inside you. No risks must be taken if he wanted to do this again.
With your legs spreaded, his thumb effortlessly reached your exposed clits, flicking it and smearing your wetness around it. Your limbs shook as your mind went numb, and soon your orgasms washed over you. You cried out his name, tightening your grip around his cock.
That's when he pulled out and poured himself on your soaked flesh, staining your folds with his pearly seed.
Once he took a quick look at you, he felt a coil of raw pleasure snake around his body. A whine left his lips as he wrapped his hand around his length, stroking it a few times to make sure he would cover you with every single drop. He was overstimulated already; sweaty, breathless and flushed. He looked so beautiful like that.
“Thank you,” he breathed out, caressing your thighs.
You frown, slightly confused. “What- what for?”
Instead of answering you right away, he leaned and joined his lips with yours, gently and tenderly kissing you. His hands cupped your face and yours laid on his thick arms. A few minutes later, he pulled away only to leave soft kisses all over your face making you giggle.
“For giving me the honour of making you mine,” he replied. “Though I must confess that I don't think I will be able to live without having you in my bed every night.”
You felt a smile appearing on your lips and a familiar warmth on your cheeks.
“Well,” you sighed, “perhaps, you should do something about it.” That flirtatious tone was a bit odd coming from you, but Cregan loved it.
“Yes,” he nodded, softly chuckling as he leaned to kiss you once more. “I will definitely do something about it.”
@arcielee
follow @by-fairysluna for updates!
#cregan stark#cregan stark imagine#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark x you#cregan stark x y/n#cregan stark smut#hotd#house of the dragon#house stark#hotd x reader#hotd x y/n#hotd smut#hotd fanfic#cregan stark fanfic
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 6
Bucky Barnes x Reader
**Read parts 1-5 first for the full effect!**
Summary: Bucky doesn't want to take advantage when you're no longer feeling the effects of the chemical, even if he's still feeling them.
Warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex, oral sex, profanity, angst, sex pollen (dubcon), mutual pining, dirty talk, kinda cockwarming, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for helping with the warnings <3
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires more warnings.
Word Count: 3.3k
Author's Note: AHHHH ngl I had butterflies down deeep while writing certain parts of this, I hope it was worth the wait for y'all. For the millionth time this week, thank you for all of the likes, reblogs, comments, asks, EVERYTHING. I wouldn't be writing this without you amazing people.
Everything hurts. You feel like you ran a marathon, hit the gym, and then rolled down a mountainside. After a few seconds of being completely still, you realize it isn’t pain from the chemical compound. No, it’s just the after effects of the night that you’ve had. It’s the kind of soreness that you should expect to have after a night of sex with someone like Bucky, and after all of the intense physiological chaos that the chemical exposure caused. You don’t feel any cramping, stinging, or unbearable discomfort anymore. Breathing out a sigh of relief, you focus in on your current position. You lay on your side, dressed in only your t-shirt and Bucky’s dog tags, with his body so close behind you that you can feel the increasingly familiar warmth of breath fanning across the side of your neck. You’re worried that the way you’re feeling right now might be temporary. What if the chemical hasn’t fully cleared out of your system yet? Or worse, what if it has? What happens when Bucky wakes up and you both have to face each other after everything that’s happened tonight?
You shake the anxiety-laden thoughts from your mind and decide the best way to soothe yourself is to check the time. Time is going to be the best indicator of how likely it is that the chemical has run its course for you. Unbeknownst to you, when you lean over and retrieve your phone from the bedside table, you moving those mere three inches away from Bucky interrupts his slumber. He blinks his eyes a few times as the dim screen of your phone becomes visible over your shoulder. 5:03 am. It’s been nine hours since you were both exposed. You recall Banner’s estimates, remembering him saying that it could last 8-10 hours for you and 8-12 hours for Bucky. How you’re feeling combined with it having been nine hours since exposure, you’re sure now that it’s worn off for you. Or at least worn off enough that you won’t be jumping your partner anymore. You set your phone back down on the table and rest your head on your pillow once more, remaining on your side. Maybe you can get another two or three hours of sleep before the team starts calling to check in with you both.
Bucky, however, won’t be going back to sleep. Though he lays behind you with his eyes shut and his face giving the impression that he’s asleep, his lower half is very much awake and it’s keeping the rest of him awake now. He doesn’t know for sure if it’s worn off for you yet, but if it hasn’t, it will very soon. Why does the thought of that make him almost sad? He shouldn’t want more of what went down tonight. God, he wishes he didn’t want more. But with you lying inches away from him, wearing that damn t-shirt and his dog tags, and your panties probably still on the bathroom floor…all he can think about is repeating every second of the last time he was inside of you. It replays in his mind in flashes. You let him slide into your tight, wet cunt when you’d barely woken up and then you moaned his name before he was even fully inside you. You let him take his time, you didn’t rush him one bit as he memorized the way your pussy gripped his shaft and drew him in for more every time he tried to pull out. And fucking hell, when you leaned back into him and hooked your leg over his, giving him the perfect angle to please you. Yet somehow, all of that was background noise when you kissed him. You kissed him. He thought working his name out of your pretty little mouth was the triumph of the night, until he tasted your lips.
He can’t ignore how hard he is any longer. Not when you’re lying there without anything underneath your t-shirt and especially not when his mind is giving him a slow-motion replay of the events that occurred just over an hour ago. He wants to find his relief in you, but he fears that you’re no longer under the influence of the chemical that gifted him with the best night of his life. He won’t take advantage. With it being so close to the ten-hour mark, he can’t bring himself to ask you for anything more than what you’ve already given him. He’ll take care of this one himself.
You feel Bucky shift on the bed behind you a few minutes after you’ve set your phone back down on the bedside table. You stay still, hoping he’s just moving in his sleep to get more comfortable and that he isn’t really waking up after so little sleep. He has to be exhausted at least as much as you are, if not more. He needs sleep. When you feel cool air seeping into the covers, you know he’s not lying behind you anymore. You sit up quickly, turning your head to see Bucky standing beside the bed, pulling his boxers on in the dark. The feeling that spreads over you can only be described as dread. Did it wear off early for him? Is he going back to his bed to sleep through the rest of the morning now that he has no need for you anymore? Why does it bother you so damn much that he’s about to walk out of this room?
“Bucky?” He freezes at the sound of his name leaving your lips in such a soft, timid tone. You sound worried and he hates it. His back is to you so you haven’t seen the way his cock is once again fighting to escape the confines of his boxers, you don’t see the way his cheeks are flushed or the way sweat is glistening across his forehead. He can make it out of here before you notice any of it.
“Go back to sleep. You can probably get a few more hours in before Sam and Fury want to hear from us.” Why does he sound so distant? And why the hell won’t he turn around and look at you? You feel utterly sick now. After what you both did last night, he can’t even look at you. Can you blame him? God, you were so fucking stupid. Where did all of your self-control go? You were supposed to lock yourself in the bedroom and ride it out alone, not ride it out on him. Suddenly, his dog tags feel heavy around your neck. Bucky takes two steps toward the door, still refusing to look at you.
“Wait.” You remove the dog tags from around your neck, holding the chain in your palm as you climb out of bed. He sighs but still doesn’t turn to you. What a fucking ass. “These are yours.” You say softly, walking to the foot of the bed and holding them out. He takes two more steps forward, stopping once he’s in front of you. You hold out the dog tags, studying them as they sway above his open palm. As you watch the metal tags collide with his skin, you feel hollow inside. You can be as cool and as calloused as him, you decide. You’re about to turn on your heel and climb back into bed, alone, when you mistakenly let your eyes drift down to the front of his tented boxers. The chemical hasn’t cleared his system yet.
He knows you know now. He watches as your expression changes from one that he couldn’t quite decipher to one that he’s become fond of tonight: need. It’s different this time though. You don’t need him to fuck you. Instead, you feel the need to take care of him. You don’t want him to suffer through these last couple of hours. You can’t let him suffer after all of the ways he helped you.
“Bucky...” Your voice trails off as you turn your gaze up to his face. He’s looking into your eyes but instead of seeing his blue irises painted on with a lust-tinged brush, you see the hard, stoic look he’s always had around you.
“I said you should go back to sleep.” He reminds you, his fist tightening around the dog tags that remain in his flesh hand. Why is he acting like this now? You should feel hurt, maybe even embarrassed that this is how he’s treating you after everything you did with him, but the only thing you feel is anger that he’d walk away now. That he’d walk away when he’s so clearly in need of something that you can give him. You’re contemplating what to say to start the argument that’s about to take place, but you know words won’t be enough to make him stay. Not when he has that cold look in his eye.
Bucky’s frozen in place when you get down on your knees.
“Y/n…” His warning tone doesn’t do shit to stop you. You’re already on the floor, sliding your hands from his knees, up the fronts of his thighs, and then lightly raking your fingertips back down to where you started. You think you can almost feel him trembling at your touch. “You don’t need to do this.”
“Everything else I did tonight was because I needed to do it. I’m doing this because I want to.”
That was it. Somehow, he thinks that’s the best thing you’ve ever said to him. Now, as you pull his boxers down at a painstakingly slow pace, that lust-filled look is back where it belongs, clouding his gaze as he watches you intently. You maintain eye contact as you wrap your hand around his thick length, stroking it once, twice, three times before leaning forward and dragging your tongue over his slit. He watches as you taste his precum. It lights a fire within him that he fears will only be stoked by every fucking thing that you do from now on. He never would’ve thought that the mouth that gives him shit on a daily basis would be wrapped around his cock like it is now. You work your hand over the base of his shaft as you take him further and further into your mouth. You were going to stop halfway and pull back, planning to give him a nice, clean blowjob. But when you make it halfway and look up at him through your eyelashes, the way he’s looking back down at you causes every thought to flee your mind. You relax your throat and take the last few inches in slowly, until you feel your nose brush against his lower stomach and his cock hit the back of your throat. The groan that rips from his chest encourages you to pull back and do it again. You’re about to do it a third time when he fists his vibranium hand in your hair and pulls your head back, forcing his cock out of your mouth. As he looks down at you, your cheeks and nose pink, your eyes watering ever so slightly, his dog tags feel heavy in his right hand. He loosens his grip in your hair and lets his vibranium hand slide over to the side of your face. He runs his thumb across your cheekbone.
You stare up at him with lust and longing written all over your features. Can anyone really blame him for what he’s about to do? Fucking hell, he can’t help himself. He stops stroking your cheek with this thumb and you watch carefully as he fingers the chain of his dog tags in front of your face. Your eyes catch onto the inscription that you’ve rubbed your thumb over so many times tonight: James B Barnes. He gently places the chain back around your neck and then hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him again.
“So fucking pretty with my name around your neck.” He breathes out the words. Now you’re the one trembling. When his hand falls away from your chin, you lose the last shreds of self-control you were clutching onto and place your hands on his thighs as you take him back into your mouth. You bob your head back and forth eagerly, loving the breathy groans and curses that fall from his lips every time he hits the back of your throat. Still, you want to give him more. You reach up and grab his flesh hand, guiding it to the back of your head as you still yourself with only the tip of his cock resting in your mouth. He narrows his eyes at you, knowing what you’re about to let him do but not completely sure that you can take it. He was just about to ask you if you were sure, when you gave him the most innocent look that he’s ever seen, and then he was ruined. He tangles his fingers in the hair at the crown of your head and forces you to take every inch of him in. He holds you there for two seconds, trying harder than he ever has to keep from cumming when he feels your throat tighten as you gag on his cock. You let him take complete control, guiding your head back and forth at the pace he chooses. It takes less than a minute for him to nearly come undone. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth and you don’t have any plans to make him stop. You hope he’ll cum in your mouth. Of course, he abruptly pulls your head back before he finishes. But he doesn’t stop there. He pulls you to your feet using his hold on your hair and shoves you onto the bed.
“Shirt off, now.” He commands, his chest heaving as he runs a hand through his messy hair. In an instant, your shirt is on the floor and you’re sitting on the bed with your weight resting back on your hands. He crawls over you while stroking his cock in his right hand, and you follow your instincts, lying down underneath him as he leaves you no other choice. Your legs spread and you find yourselves in the missionary position, just like the first time you fucked. “You were going to let me cum in your mouth, weren’t you?” He asks, bracing himself with his arms on the bed on either side of your head and leaning in close to you. He leaves wet kisses just underneath your jaw as he patiently waits for a response.
“Yes.” You answer honestly. Your eyes are nearly rolling back in your head at how good he is with his mouth. His lips feel so soft against your skin and you just want to taste him again. You let your hands travel up his sides, over his chest, and then you rest them along the sides of his jaw, pulling his mouth to yours. He captures your lips with his, your mouths moving in tandem as heat begins to spread throughout your body.
“Would you have swallowed?” Bucky wonders aloud, breaking the kiss to look into your eyes. You stare up at him as a playful smile turns up the corners of your lips.
“Every drop.”
The words have barely left your mouth when you feel Bucky lining his cock up with your entrance. You moan before he’s even inside of you and he can’t stop the smirk that spreads across his face. He has you wrapped around his finger in this perfect, unforgettable moment. He forces his cock inside you, his head falling down to the crook of your neck as he bottoms out.
“Fuck, Y/n. It’s so good, I can’t…” His voice is tense as his sentence goes unfinished. He’s not even thrusting into you, he’s just grinding his hips in circles, letting his cock rub against the walls of your pussy. “I just want to stay like this.” He groans. For a second, you wonder if he means that he wants to physically stay like this or if he means something else entirely.
“God, Bucky…” You start grinding up into him just like he’s grinding down into you and within seconds, you’re a wreck beneath him. “Please, fuck me.” He can’t deny you. He starts fucking his cock into you, obsessed with the way you pull him tighter against your chest with every thrust. Bucky was already seconds away from cumming when you were sucking him off, but now he’s hanging so far over the edge that he can feel himself losing control. You can sense how far gone he is as he buries his cock in you with what can only be described as pure primal need.
“Shit. Shit, I’m gonna cum.” He groans, nipping at your collarbone as the headboard begins to knock against the wall. You wrap your legs around his waist and snake your hand down between the two of you, rubbing your clit to ensure that you’ll cum at the exact same time as him. You want him to feel the way you clench around him, the way your walls flutter as aftershocks tear through you.
“Oh my god, Bucky. Cum inside me, please fucking cum for me, baby.” The words fall from your lips so freely that someone overhearing would think you’ve been sleeping with each other for months. “Don’t pull out.” Your last words flip a switch inside him and he starts driving his cock into you with so much force that you hear the headboard crack. When he cums inside you just a second later, you fall over the edge right along with him, your orgasm so strong that tears form in the corners of your eyes as he fucks you through it.
That. That was earth-shattering, life-altering sex.
You stay connected like that, with Bucky on top of you and his cum trapped inside of your cunt by his still hard dick, until you both drift off to sleep.
---
There aren’t many things that you hate more than being woken up by your phone ringing. It’s always immediately put you in a bad mood. However, when you wake up this morning to the sound of your phone ringing and vibrating on the bedside table, you find yourself tangled up with Bucky. Completely naked.
Fuck. You’re facing each other, with your leg hitched over his hip and his thigh pressed against your wet pussy. Wet? Holy shit, it’s his cum. His cum has been steadily dripping out of you since you fucked earlier, and with the position you’re in, it’s been dripping out of you and onto the skin of his thigh. With the light of early morning starting to peek through the curtains across the room, you can see Bucky clearly now. He’s scrunching up his face in annoyance at the sound of your phone ringing. Shit, your phone. You twist your upper body and retrieve your phone from the bedside table, tapping on the screen to answer it before checking to see who’s calling.
“Tell me you both made it through the night.” Sam’s voice fills your ear and Bucky must hear it too, because his eyes snap open in an instant. He doesn’t move and you can see the wheels in his mind turning as he goes through the same mental gymnastics you just went through about your positions and what exactly is on his thigh right now. You bite your lip so you won’t let out a laugh.
“We made it through the night.” You tell Sam, your voice raspy from the various moans and screams you let out last night.
“And you’re both okay?” He asks.
“We’re fine.”
“I tried calling Bucky first because I know he never sleeps, but he didn’t answer.” Bucky’s eyes widen as he overhears Sam’s words. He didn’t answer because he slept in your bed, and his phone is still back in his own bedroom.
What the hell are you going to say to Sam?
Next Part
TAG LIST
@sarcastickiddo @donttalktosposts @marygoddessofmischief @its-daydreamer23 @lightsonnoonehome @gyokujyn @kandis-mom @millercontracting @alicia-bman @littlemiss-yeehaw @sdddoobydoobydoo @a-rotten-chicken-nugget @browneyedgirl22 @charmedbysarge @i-dont-know-how-to-words @maraaaamartinnnn @hensawweston @traderjoesmints @fictionallyunavailable4ever @black-cat-2 @just-act-natural @phoenixstark1708 @ladyvenera @walkingwithoutreason @bubblevicioussss @larajadeschmidt13 @thealloveru2 @unaxv @crist1216 @joannaromanoff @jenniferpendragon @i-will-always-kneel-for-smut @justafangirl @sydneylaufeyson22 @khambot @yourmidnightlover @claireelizabeth85 @multifandom-girlie @keyrani @hhiggs @bambamwolf87 @mrsjoequinn @inappropriate-shell @abitofblues @takeyour-pants-off @buckysbaby-doll @buckbuckybuckaroo @yourkenoughyk @kingfleury @cresendolls @missadored @ssugar-momma @fandomsfeminismandme
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#the winter soldier#winter soldier#bucky barnes x you#marvel#bucky barnes smut#mcu
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Let him cook pt 2
Charles Leclerc x Masterchef!reader
Series Part: 1
taglist: @bookstore-of-dreams @barcelonaloverf1life
CharlesLeclercUpdates posted a photo.
CharlesLeclercUpdates Charles Leclerc appeared in MasterChef Australia episode "Cooking to Survive"
User1 Ariana what are you doing hereeeee??
User2 I thought only f2 drivers were allowed for that, why was Charles wandering around
User7 In his defense, Ollie was with him. Maybe Ollie got invited and Charles tagged along.
User3 Okay but did anyone notice how his eyes lit up when Y/N talked to him. The boy was whipped!
User8 Charles can't get Y/N, he can't even cook
User9 Agree User8! Besides Y/N has a long-time boyfriend, they are super cute. Do you all not watch the different challenges she dedicated to him?
Y/NCooks posted a photo.
Liked by Charles_Leclerc, friend1, and 255,000 others.
YNCooks what a stunning day! We won today as the captain of the red team and coincidentally there was a red team 1-2 as well??? #AlwaysBetOnRed
User1 Mother you slayed!!! I was so surprised to see you at the GP!
YNCooks me too!! This is one of the best team challenges ever.
User2 Charles is on the likes. Charles is on the likes.
Charles_Leclerc Congrats on your win!!!
Y/NCooks Thank you! You too, you did great!!!
User3 The collab of this masterchef and f1 community is not on my bingo list.
User4 Y/N's boyfriend how are you feeling that Charles is stealing your girl away??
"Are you seeing this right now? They thought that I am stealing you away" Charles grumbles over the phone. You can't see him right now but you can actually visualize the frown lines forming and the soft scowl that he has on his face "Why would I steal my own girlfriend?"
"Oh mon ami"
"And did they even watch the episodes? Like couldn't they piece it together that I'm the one that you are referring to I mean the cake and then the adopted italian narrative" Charles continued to rant on
It was adorable to hear Charles like this. How you wish that you weren't just conversing over the phone, how you wish that you could be there for him right now.
"Y/N you still there?" Charles' voice brought you out of your musings.
"Yep, I'm still here. Just a little bit tired" you explained
"You had a really long day mon amour."He says "I'm really so proud of you. You are slowly achieving your dreams"
"As I am very proud of you Charles. You always shine the brightest when you are up on that podium. I wish I could be there on the front lines cheering for you"
"One day you will be"
There is a peaceful silence shared between the two of you. The thing about you and Charles was that you both understand that this is a better situation than being under scrutiny by everyone. Charles had his fair share of public relationship and he learned a lot from it. He just wanted to keep this as his for a little while longer.
"I love you, I'll see you soon" "Love you more honey"
Risotto challenge
You were not always having a good day in the kitchen and this is one of those episodes that you did not do well hence the elimination challenge. The judges commented that there was no problem with the dish that you made but it was simply not as risky as what the others did. So you are really driven to show them creativeness.
Charles was watching the episode with so much dread as he hears that the elimination dish is a reinvention of a risotto. He watched enough MasterChef season with you to know that this dish is the death dish aka the dish that usually sends people home.
He understands the dilemma that you are facing right now, play it safe and stick to the classic which means it won't stand out or play it risky and be booted for elimination.
"I'm making Quinoa risotto" that was your bold decision and Charles couldn't believe his ears.
"Mon amour, risotto is rice. Quinoa is not rice" Charles mumbled to himself
"I know its a big risk but I have to show them that I am a risk taker and that I am a MasterChef winner material"you confidently state in the interview.
It was a stressful few minutes to Charles as he watched how the judges has already decided that the idea of a quinoa risotto would be an utter disaster. Nevertheless, he saw the determination in your eyes and how you defended why you opted to go for a risotto.
"Do you often cook quinoa at home?" Matt asked as he and Jean Pierre White scrutinize your table.
"I don't really" you replied with a shy smile "Well truthfully I don't even know what quinoa is before my boyfriend introduced me to it. It was a part of his diet so I went ahead and learn how to cook quinoa so he could eat"
This was new information for Charles and he felt warm with this new fact. He remembers how every time he visits you, there will be a variation of his diet meals that will ensure that he won't get bored of food and still be on track with his diet. He takes note that he will be grateful for that when she comes back.
"We're looking forward to taste that risotto" Matt says
Time went by and Charles let out a small sigh of relief after knowing that you completed your dish. Charles have full confidence with the dish that you made and he hopes that the judges will take a new perspective with this quinoa risotto.
"Quinoa is not a risotto" Marco Pierre White stated. It was all so menacing how he said it with flat emotions and a monotone voice. Charles could feel himself sweating as they tasted the dish.
"But this is another take that I will welcome" Another sigh of relief for Charles. He knows that you got this in the bag.
Cooking for a special someone
"We're now down to a challenge for the top two spots in the MasterChef kitchen, are you excited?"
Everything was so surreal. Starting from 20 and now they are down to the last 4 contestant. You were so grateful that you are another step closer to your dream of being a MasterChef winner.
"For this week, we will be bringing in some important guests who you will need to impress in order to secure a spot as a MasterChef finalist."
The contestants were asked to step one by one. You started to notice that they brought in their loved ones and you were fidgeting a bit because you don't know who they will bring out.
"Last but definitely not the least, Y/N step forward" Gary says "Are we gonna meet the boyfriend?"
"Oooh the boyfriend. We have been hearing about him for ages now" Matt teased
"The boyfriend is very busy" you replied as you remembered that he is probably in America right now.
"Oh cmon, cant he miss out a day or two"
"Its a job hazard to miss out a few days" you answered. It's all about the points so you really can't fault Charles not wanting to miss a single day at work.
"Okay in that case, our mystery guest for Y/N is............."
The MasterChef door opens and you were surprised to see not one but two Leclercs.
"What are you doing here down under?" you asked as you gave them a hug
"We're going to support you obviously!" Arthur grinned
It was weird because this was the first time that you will be with Arthur and Lorenzo with cameras rolling. You were nearly in tears when you hugged the two of them. Without even asking, you knew right away that Charles sent them since he will be busy with the races.
"And who are they to your life Y/N?" the judges asked
"This is Arthur and Lorenzo, they are very close friends. They treat me as if I'm one of their own" you smiled.
"I'm sure you are going to be inspired to cook now that you have them around"
The pressure was definitely on especially when you were told that there is a need to present 2 dishes, one sweet and another savory in 75 minutes. However, you were pumped to hear the cheers coming from the balcony as Arthur enthusiastically showers you with compliment while Lorenzo takes photos.
Charles, on the other hand, has been constantly checking his phone, now that he is done with free practice. He felt quite jealous that his brothers were able to see you and support you in person. Although, he was quite happy that they are having the time of life supporting you.
Lorenzo texted him about 30 minutes ago that they will be judging and eating the food that the contestants made. He was slowly getting impatient of the results, he wanted to know what's going on.
1 new text message.
Lorenzo: She got in! She's a finalist!!!
810 notes
·
View notes
Text
ruination
warnings/tags: minors DNI, dark themes, Bridgerton!AU, woc!reader, playing fast and loose w/ how things work in the regency era, Prince!Charles, soft dark!Charles, manipulation, peer pressure, possessive behavior, these tags are not exhaustive
wc: 6.4k (this is so aksdfljas)
summary: Royalty and greed go hand in hand. Prince Charles is no exception to this rule. If he must ruin you to have you, then so be it.
dividers by @/cafekitsune
rewatched Bridgerton, thought about Charles, and here we are :) obligatory unedited, unbeta'd etc. please let me know your thoughts! and happy reading :P
You wonder how one finds themselves in a position such as your present one.
He is dripping water onto your floors but your other choice was to leave him to his devices and so really, there was no choice at all. You can only hope your cousins remain engrossed in their conversations with the King and his ensemble. Though, you are certain they would find much more enjoyment in finding out you’ve snuck a boy into your quarters right underneath your parents’ noses.
You bring him all of the towels you have and thrust them into his arms. “The bathroom is over there. I left some of my cousin’s clothes in there but…” you trail off, unsure of how to tell him they might be too big. Your cousin was quite testy at this age and you do not wish to further ruin this boy’s day.
“Thank you,” he says politely, a far cry from the bumbling boy you were ushering into your room just minutes ago. The red in his cheeks hasn’t faded away yet but he no longer resembles a tomato.
You sit on your bed, feet dangling, as you wait for him. Luckily, the day is warm and sunny so his clothes will be dry within the hour. Unluckily, you do not know if you have an hour to spare.
Chewing on your cheek, you wonder how you’ll manage to keep this boy hidden for so long and without suspicion. You are due for lunch soon but there should be a delay due to the royal family coming for a visit. Your father is a man unable to not try and seize every opportunity given to him and these types of opportunities can only be taken advantage of with the absence of children.
The bathroom door opens. There’s a disgruntled look on the boy’s face as he tries to adjust his sleeves to no avail. They hang limply over his hands and it takes every ounce of your etiquette training to not giggle.
“Don’t worry. Your clothes will be dry soon,” you say. Unfortunately, nothing can be done about the wrinkles that are certain to appear. But that is an issue he must deal with so you don’t bother to apologize for it.
“Oh, sorry about the water,” he says, noticing the puddle by your vanity. He drops one of the damp towels on top and half heartedly wipes it away with his shoe.
“It’s fine. I think.” The dirt at the bottom of his shoe is going to leave a mark but you’ll worry about that later. The dress your mother put you in has ensured that you won’t be able to do anything other than breathe carefully and sit upright until the King and his entourage leave.
“If it’s not, I can let my father know and he’ll find a way to fix it,” he says unhelpfully. An almost resigned expression flits across his face but he quickly smooths out the wrinkle of his nose with a bland smile.
For some reason, his immediate assumption that you will take him up on it irritates you. He will be long gone by the time a punishment comes if one is to come. Instead of acknowledging his offer, you ask, “How did you end up in the fountain?”
He blinks, surprised. Then he averts his eyes. “I tripped.”
You twist a loose strand from your bed covers around your finger. “Ah.” If only you had come by five minutes earlier, you would’ve had something to laugh about during lunch. “You aren’t bleeding anywhere, right?”
“No.” But he’s looking over himself as he answers you. “No,” he repeats, more assured. “Mother would’ve killed me if I showed up to lunch with my clothes in disarray. Again.”
“You’re going to the lunch too?” you ask, tilting your head. As far as you know, your family and the King’s immediate family are the only ones allowed. Surely, one of the King’s own wouldn’t find himself in such a silly position.
He cuts you an aghast look. “I’m the Prince.”
You can’t help yourself from giving him a once over. “Are you?”
His clothes are quite nice, you will admit to this. It was the first thing you noticed when you saw him toppled over in the water. But what sort of prince falls into a fountain? And wouldn’t the King ensure his sons are by his side his entire time? You glance out your window as if you’ll suddenly see the Kingsguard crawling up the walls and to your room.
“Yes! I am,” he says, flustered.
He seems sure of himself so you choose to believe him. Maybe the kingdom of Monaco is a much more relaxed place than you have been led to believe. “Alright,” you shrug.
“I’m Charles,” he introduces. Charles stands expectantly as if awaiting a dramatic reaction.
It takes a second for his name to register. The spare as he’s been so crudely called.
You give him your name easily. Your father is a lesser known Earl. He’s clawed his way into his position so you aren’t surprised when there is no flare of recognition in Charles’ eyes. Your title hardly matters as you are merely a pawn for your father to move around the board as he sees fit.
“That…makes sense,” he says after a moment. “I was wondering why you were in the garden without a chaperone.”
Distaste sours your mouth. Ever since your first cycle, you have not been left alone without someone to watch over you whenever guests are around. Fortunately, your estate is not plagued with visitors but it is annoying having to seek out one of your cousins when your family does find itself with visitors. You tend to avoid any man older than you by default so you believe you have more than earned the right to wander your own home no matter how improper your mother finds it.
“Speaking of chaperones, where are your guards?”
At the reminder, he scoffs. “I snuck away from them.”
It’s nice to know even the prince feels smothered at times. “And here I thought you lived a charmed life.”
He wavers and then sits a polite distance from you. It should feel illicit—because it is illicit—but the shame never comes.
“I’m old enough to be on my own,” he complains. “It’s not as if Father forces me to train because he thinks I find it fun.”
“Do you find it fun?”
“I do. But that is not the point,” he huffs.
“What a trial it is to have a father that loves you,” you say with a hand to your chest. “Oh, the travesty!”
Your dramatics earn an amused scrunch of his nose. He flops on your bed, head just below your pillows. He tucks an arm underneath his head and sighs. “It sounds bad when I put it like that, huh?”
“No. I get it.” However, to a lesser degree. For all the freedoms Charles is granted in comparison to you, there are restrictions you can not even imagine that he must have. “Somewhat.”
The bed creaks as he shifts to his side. “Really?” he asks.
“Really,” you confirm with a nod. And then you shrug. “But it will not be forever.”
“It will not,” he agrees quietly. “Once I’m of age…”
You wait for him to finish but he doesn’t continue. But it doesn’t matter for you hear your maid knock on your door with three rapid raps. You scramble off of your bed and hold the door closed.
“I’m coming,” you call, hoping the reediness in your voice isn’t noticeable.
The handle stops turning. “Hurry.” With that, she leaves.
You exhale. You do not want to imagine what would have come if Karina had barged in as she usually does.
“You should leave first,” you say. The spike of anxiety has yet to retreat so you sound harsher than you intend.
Charles does not need to be told twice. His gait is stiff as he leaves. He looks back at you before he disappears around the corner.
After a respectable amount of time passes, you walk to the dining room. You can hear your mother chiding one of your cousins and pray she is too distracted by whatever mischief they’ve gotten into to notice your late arrival. And because you are not known for your luck, you accidentally come across Charles and his mother as they enter.
“Why are your clothes damp?”
You’re close enough to catch the Queen’s question to her son. Charles tries to wave it off but she pinches a cuff between her fingers and asks again.
The resigned downward curve of his mouth is what drives you to interrupt them. “It is my fault, Your Majesty. I was getting a drink of water and managed to spill it on His Highness. I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”
Her eyebrows raise. She inspects her son further. Something about him must amuse her for she smiles in that knowing way all mothers do and says, “It is fine, my dear. Let us go eat.”
Charles tries to catch your eyes during lunch but you keep your gaze steadfast on your cousins whenever you speak. It is only when the adults turn their attentions away from your section of the table that you meet Charles’ earnest gaze with a smile. You tip your chin in the direction of your father and give the barest hint at a shake of your head.
Before he and his family depart, Charles pulls you aside. Your parents are too focused on saying their farewells to the King and Queen to notice you’ve been sequestered away. Unfortunately, Charles draws the attention of his older brother much to your horror. Your urge to stomp on his foot is only quelled when Lorenzo shakes his head with a little laugh and holds a finger to his lips.
“Write to me,” Charles says in one breath. “Please.”
“Your Highness,” you say, unsure.
“Charles,” he corrects. He digs into his pocket and slips a folded piece of paper into your hand. He closes your fingers around it. “I’ll await your letters, my lady.”
He’s hurried off to his family before you can say another word. Shaking off your bewilderment, you tuck the paper given to you into your sleeve, and go to join your parents in wishing the Leclercs a safe journey home.
Hours later, when you are finally alone are you able to unfold and read what Charles has written you. It is an address with instructions on how to write it so that any letter of yours arrives at his personal quarters.
You press your tongue at the back of your molars, a little impressed at his confidence. It is not unfounded as that same night, you pull out a piece of paper and begin writing to him.
-
It is seven long years before you see Charles and his family again. But it is as if no time has passed as you and Charles exchange letters in your time apart.
You were able to conceal your correspondence with Charles with the simple lie of having befriended one of the maids the Leclerc’s brought along with them. Guilt did not swirl in your stomach at the disappointment in your father’s face when he realized the sturdy letter in his hands did not come from the King or Queen asking for your hand in marriage whenever you were eligible. It is pure luck you happened upon your father receiving the mail and were able to extinguish his hopes with a nonchalant lie.
He’s funnier than a prince ought to be. It doesn’t take long for you to forget you are talking to a prince and not one of your peers and formality becomes a thing of the past. By the end of that year, you considered Charles one of your closest friends.
You were one of the first to find out about his father’s passing. It took hours of convincing and a smidge of bribery to coax your cousin into bringing a gift to Charles from you the next time he went in for training at the palace along with your condolences. Letters from Charles ceased for a handful of months understandably but you sent your weekly letters faithfully. You detailed everything from your days to your studies to the little warm pockets of memories you had of his father and his kindness to whatever else crossed your mind. You didn’t know how else to comfort him from so far but when Charles finally returned his pen to the page, it was to thank you for allowing him some respite during the worst of his grieving period.
The years pass and while communication becomes strained as you two come to grow into your respective roles, you still consider Charles a very good friend. He’s one of the first to hear about your woes on your upcoming debut into society. You are approaching your twenty first year and you are sweating at the thought of what’s to come. You detail to him the families that have begun sniffing around you as if to test the waters of what sort of prestige your father is expecting. It is taxing but you deal with it well. You have no other choice after all.
Charles is strangely reticent at the topic of your debut. He offers a sympathetic ear but struggles to reassure you in ways that don’t make you vaguely uncomfortable. You can’t quite put your finger on why but his insistent claims that you will not have to worry about the men circling you like vultures does not set you at ease as you suspect he thinks it does. It reeks slightly of ownership but you brush it off as surely his written word is more one dimensional than his thoughts. It is far more likely Charles thinks to soothe you by the implication of an order of protection as he has no way to actually prevent someone asking for your hand. It is the thought that counts, you think.
This time around, the Leclerc’s visit is rather unexpected. You are due to travel to Monaco in a week’s time to make your debut but you cannot say you do not welcome the chance to see your old friend sooner.
Except, he is not the Charles you have kept so dear to your heart over the years. He is a man grown now. And you do not recognize him.
“Hello, Your Highness,” you greet, curtsying as suited for your station. You do not let yourself linger on him, to soak in how much he’s changed over these years.
It feels like a slap in the face even though it is to be expected. With your correspondence spanning from childhood until now, it should not come as a surprise to see Charles as the prince he is. But foolishly, you’ve held onto the image of him as the boy whose sleeves were a tad too long and whose smile hadn’t quite grown into the charming one he’s sporting now. Before, you could trick yourself into believing Charles was a friend of equal standing. But now you know that has never been the case.
He has always been Prince Charles Leclerc.
You greet his younger brother next, dutifully reciting your introductions to one another. A flash of recognition crosses his expression and his eyes flick to Charles for a moment. You pretend you do not notice.
His older brother, the king, makes idle conversation with your parents. Your fingers twitch against the fabric of your lehenga. The weight of your necklace is suddenly stifling and you bring your hand up to adjust it.
“Are you excited about your debut?” Arthur asks politely.
Seeing as your parents and the king have left the three of you to your own devices but within their eyesight, your shoulders loosen. “If my mother asks, I told you I’ve never been more excited in my life,” you say, sharing a conspiring smile with him. There is little doubt in your mind that Arthur is expected to happen upon a wife during this ball somehow.
“And if I ask?”
Charles’ voice is smooth and playful. He is not someone you can ignore regardless but you wish he made it a little easier to look at him without feeling blinded by his beauty.
“I am dreading it,” you confess. And he is well aware of that.
“Still scared no one will ask you for your dance card?” Charles teases.
You look up as if considering the possibility. The thought crossed your mind months ago but your mother had quickly assuaged those fears. “No,” you say. It isn’t arrogance that fuels your adamant denial. It will be a shock if not one man approaches you for a dance at your debut of all things. “More that I am scared my father will throw me to the first man who extends his hand.”
Your dry confession wipes the smile off of Charles’ face. “He would not do that.”
Arthur looks aghast. “Would he?”
“He would,” you say seriously. “We all have our duties do we not?”
You manage to shut Charles up while encouraging Arthur to complain about how his mother plans to spring a bride upon him to keep her wayward son home. Said mother beckons to him after ten minutes to point him towards Lorenzo’s guard, leaving you and Charles with the illusion that you two are alone. Hyperaware of his presence, you take a step back. You may not be searching for a husband but it does not mean you can tarnish your reputation by being careless. You turn to head back to your room with the intention of feigning ill. Except, a set of footsteps echo your own.
Charles follows after you. “Would you like to join me for lunch?”
Not particularly, you think but force the thought into the recesses of your mind. “While that sounds lovely, your Highness, I really must go.”
His hand wraps around your wrist before you can take another step away from him. “Must you be so cold?”
“Your Highness,” you whisper warningly. Your voice pitches at the end as your eyes dart around the two of you. There are eyes in every corner and none are to be trusted.
“Charles,” he corrects. “I’m Charles.”
His grip isn’t so tight that you cannot pull away and yet, you do not make an attempt. You stand there with his hand around your wrist and your heart in your throat like a fool. “We cannot be alone, Charles.”
“We’ll sneak off then,” he implores. His voice lowers. “Please. I’ve missed you.” The words linger as if he has more to say but he limits himself to this vulnerability.
The ache in his voice threads through your ribs until it wraps around your heart and squeezes. You chew on your lip for a moment you do not have to spare and then admit defeat. “Wait for me in my room,” you whisper. “I trust you remember how to get there?”
A boyish grin tugs at his lips. “How could I forget?” And then he is off, walking through the halls as if they are all he’s ever known.
You make your way to the kitchen with half a mind to sneak off into the gardens on your own. But you banish the thought, having briefly imagined the disappointment on Charles’ face if you do not show up. You quickly pack lunch and loop your arm through the handle of the basket.
It’s easy enough to get to your room without any prying eyes but you can never be too cautious. You peek around yourself, angling the basket so it looks smaller than it is to a wandering eye, before opening your door. Charles is digging through your vanity and spins around when he hears the creak of your door.
There’s something crumpled in his hand that he quickly shoves into a pocket. He grimaces. “You are back.”
You shoot him an unimpressed look. “I am. Are you ready for lunch?” You do not have the patience to question what he’s taken as a souvenir. It is likely something innocuous and something you’d give to him without thought anyway. Nothing you have is of value to a prince of all people.
“Are we to eat in here?”
You shake the basket hanging from your arm. “Of course not. We shall eat in the garden.” Eyeing the worn out throw on your couch, you point to it. “Take that so we may sit on it.”
Charles acquiesces, carefully bundling it in his arms. The hallway is empty and there are no echoes of hurried footsteps so you motion for Charles to follow you. Instead of leaving how you came, you lead Charles towards the rarely used back hallway. With two quick turns, the two of you find yourselves near the unused lower quarters.
Charles glances around himself, mildly surprised. “I was not aware these were here. Even from the outside it looks so…”
“Decayed?” you offer, amused at how he doesn’t correct you. “My grandfather never bothered to include these in the renovations so they remain empty. Every once in a while, someone will come down and clean it but if anyone is down here, it’s either me or my cousins.” You think it’s haunted as well but you don’t tell Charles that.
Pushing open a door with your back, you bring Charles to the very edge of your mother’s garden. A quaint pond sits off to the side, hidden from view.
Once the two of you are settled atop of your blanket with food in your hands, you ask, “Is this the season you intend on finding a wife?”
Charles chokes on his sandwich. You jerk back, nearly dropping your own due to his coughing fit. He thumps at his chest a few times before clearing his throat. With watery eyes and a raw voice, he says, “No. It is not the right time yet.”
Charles is twenty two to your twenty. He is considered young in a way you are not granted. Envy begins to drip into you but you quickly cauterize the entry point of it. The freedom you long for is no fault of Charles.
“You do love your dalliances,” you agree teasingly.
Embarrassment scalds his face to a deep red. You are confident if you were to hold your hand up an inch from his cheek, you would feel the residual heat.
He splutters, unable to form a string of words in defense for himself.
You laugh loudly. His reputation as a rake has preceded him. You don’t think it to be as scandalous as higher society wishes to believe but there must be some kernel of truth mixed in with the rumors. Despite the rumors circulation, it certainly hasn’t affected his value on the marriage market.
“I don’t—“ Charles presses his lips together and sighs. “Okay, that is true. To an extent.”
“Oh, is it now?”
He throws a piece of carrot at you. The red in his cheeks is receding but not by much. “I’m young,” he defends. “And I am trying to be patient for her sake. Or else, I would already have a betrothal in the works by now.”
Your ears perk up. “There is someone you wish to wed?” you repeat excitedly. He has not mentioned anyone in particular to you but perhaps they are someone he wishes to keep close to his heart until the match is secured. While so far none of your letters to each other have been placed into the wrong hands, some subjects are too delicate to risk the chance.
Charles looks off to the distance and then back to you. A crumb rests on the corner of his mouth and the casualness of it is at odds with the severity that pinches his face. “Yes.”
“Do they know of your intentions?” You try to think back on if Charles has accidentally hinted at someone being in the picture but you are drawing a blank.
He scoffs. He sounds almost bitter but when you look at him, the purse of his lips is closer to self-deprecating. “Not in the slightest. She would run in the other direction if she knew.”
“Oh please, you are a prince,” you say, exasperated. “You will be hard pressed to find a woman who wouldn’t swoon at a proposal from you.”
“You would be surprised.”
You knock your shoulder against his. Many dream of becoming a part of the royal family and romanticize it to an extreme degree. The insight Charles has given you over the years has proven it is anything but and you do not envy the women who will find themselves by the Leclerc’s sides.
“I am surprised. Besides being a prince, you’re charming too,” you say thoughtfully.
“And handsome.”
“And handsome,” you agree much to his delight.
“See? I knew it. I knew you thought this as well.”
“So then you understand why I think it is absurd you are so hesitant. You’ve always been brave. But maybe that is a testament to how fond you are of her.” You will have to make sure to keep a careful eye on who captures Charles’ attention at the ball. Perhaps, you may even need to deploy Arthur to gather some intel.
“I am very fond,” he says softly.
You look up at him to find his eyes already trained on you. Unease weaves itself through you, opening a pit in your belly. But you ignore it. “Hopefully, you will invite me to the wedding.”
He is silent for a long enough time that you fear you’ve overstepped some boundary you weren’t aware was in place. Before you can apologize, Charles brings his hand up. For a moment, you think he will lay his hand against your cheek and you begin to move away. But he merely picks a stray rose petal that has somehow found flight in the wind and tangled itself in your hair.
Whatever look is on your face softens him and the intensity radiating from him peters off into something less stifling. He leans back and examines the petal in his hand. It’s ruby red and faintly fragrant. It seems to center him for Charles says to you, “Save me a dance?”
Your answer is an easy, “Of course, Your Highness.”
Seven short days later, you find yourself in Charles’ home. The ballroom is stunning but its beauty cannot take away the nerves that have overtaken you. Your bones feel soft and weak and you fear you won’t have the strength to stand in front of the Queen. You long to hold your mother’s arm, clinging to her as a child once more, but you force yourself to take each step into the ballroom by yourself. You take a cursory look around, relief overlaying your anxiety at how many other nervous debutantes there are. Your anxiety is fully extinguished once you see Charles chatting with who you believe is Pierre. As if sensing your attention, he slowly turns to your direction and finds you almost instantly.
You give him a mockery of a curtsy.
He gives you a wink.
And so, your debut comes and goes with Charles dominating your dance card. Arthur manages to sneak himself on there as well as Pierre but other than the Leclerc brothers, Pierre, and a few others, your dance card is barren of any of the men your father hoped to potentially marry you off to.
A sticky sort of relief coats your lungs at managing to delay the inevitable for a while longer.
“Last night would have been awful if not for you. Thank you.”
You must head back to your home this afternoon but somehow, you have managed to carve out some time after breakfast to sneak away to say your goodbyes. It took the length of one dance to convince Charles to abandon his duties to allow you to say goodbye. It makes you think perhaps it is a good thing Charles was not the first born.
The glances you keep taking over your shoulder are more instinctual than anything. According to him, this part of the castle is secluded.
“I am indebted to you.”
Charles puts a hand on the ledge to lean forward until he’s all you can see. This close, you can the brown ring around his irises. He studies you, studies how you can’t help but sneak a peek at his mouth, and hums.
“I’ll be sure to collect my debt then.”
-
You enter your twenty fourth year with no prospects in sight. It horrifies your father.
You have become accustomed to it. The disappointment used to sit bitterly in your stomach but now you’re able to set it aside and put acceptance in its place. You’ve joined your younger cousin for her debut as her chaperone. The castle is as you remember it and so you’re able to impart onto her the two places she can go to for a breather if the chance arises and is needed.
She’s already danced with three gentlemen when she makes her way back to your side. You almost shoo her away but she grabs at you insistently. “The Prince is looking at you,” Sarish whispers.
“He’s probably looking at you,” you whisper back, distracted. You’re tempted to rip your bracelet from the thread it’s caught upon but with your luck, you’ll end up unraveling a good portion of the delicate seam work your mother labored over.
“No, he is not. Look,” she says urgently.
To appease her, you look around until you find one of the younger Leclerc brothers. Arthur has been coerced into a dance with another young woman but Charles remains off to the side. As Sarish says, he is looking at you.
He raises his champagne flute to you, earning the attention of those around him as he does. People crane their neck to see who has caught the eye of the ever elusive Prince Charles Leclerc.
Thankfully, the ballroom is so full, it is impossible to pick out who Charles motioned towards. You have learned to be grateful for the little things and that does not stop now.
“See!”
“I see,” you say through gritted teeth. “Oh look, more gentlemen are coming.” And then you leave your cousin to the swarm of men coming her way because while you are a chaperone, you never promised to be a good one.
It is surprisingly easy to escape to the backyard. Fleetingly, you think they should have more guards around but the lack of them works out in your favor.
You head towards the fountain a few feet away. The gentle lapping of the water soothes you and you take a fortifying breath. Charles can afford to be reckless but you cannot.
Gravel crunches beneath someone’s feet behind you and you whirl around, a hand to your heart. But you find that it is only Charles.
“I hear another betrothal is in the works for you,” Charles says after the silence stretches on for a moment too long. He adjusts his cuff links, smile thin and eyes devoid of all feeling.
You cast a wary glance over his shoulder. The party is in full swing and the guests haven’t quite yet begun to trickle into the backyard. “You called me out here to speak to me about rumors?” you ask doubtfully. Your father, a greedy man with an even greedier extended family, has been anguishing over your lack of proposals. The few courtships you’ve had have extinguished before they could get off the ground. And it is not for a lack of trying on your behalf either. Marriage may not excite you but you see its practicality. It helps that marriage will mean you are no longer be under your father’s thumb and beholden to his politics.
As the months drag and your various suitor’s indecision remains, your father’s hopes at finding a match lessened until he’s now grasping at straws.
“Your father has sent a letter to Carlos,” Charles informs you in a tight voice. “Expressing his interest in potentially being a foothold for the Sainz in Monaco.”
You close your eyes, cursing your father. He must truly be desperate if he thinks to weaponize his little influence to sway an outsider. “The Sainz are a smart family. They will not entertain such a clumsy scheme.”
The gravel shifts underneath his shoes. “Do not worry. I am the only one who saw the letter and I do not think your father so stupid as to think he can insert himself into matters such as this. Desperate, yes, but not stupid.”
The ironclad grip on your heart releases. “Thank you.”
“You have met Carlos though.”
He does not frame it as a question but you answer it like one anyway.
“Yes.” It had been a peculiar week when the Duke’s son found himself at your family home. An accident you still find hard to believe. You smile at the memory.
Charles grinds his teeth. “He is considering making his own offer for your hand.”
That stops you short. “What?”
“He sent the letter before your father’s arrived. The Duke was kind enough to inform me of your father’s…lapse in judgment. He also let me know of his son’s intentions.”
You did not think you left such an impression on Carlos but alas, maybe your luck is looking upwards for once. You cannot control the grin that graces your mouth at this information. If you must marry, you suppose he is a fine choice for a husband. He is certainly someone you know you can come to love and it would be far from a chore to do so. “I see,” you say diplomatically.
“Will you marry anyone then?”
His tone is disapproving and it immediately makes your hackles rise. Charles is a second prince and with his nephew’s arrival, he is no longer considered the spare. He is free to choose who he wants rather than what is good for the nation. Surely nothing holds him back from marrying the girl he loves he mentioned just a scant four years ago.
“I will marry anyone my father finds suitable,” you correct coolly. “It seems you forget my station.”
He rubs his mouth angrily. “Why haven’t you considered me?”
One second you are capable of breath and in the next, you feel as if your lungs have been compressed. The corset is much too tight and there is a sudden lack of air.
“Pardon?”
Charles steps towards you. A perverse sort of torment crosses his face. “Have you not thought of me as I have thought of you?” Another step. “Not even once?”
You must not hide your expression quick enough for his eyes light up. “Charles,” you say with a touch of warning.
“You must have,” he decides, advancing forward. A pleased smile stretches across his mouth.
“If I have, it was fleeting,” you say, taking an equal step back. “I do not dare to wish for more than I can be granted.”
“But you can be granted me.”
“But I don’t wish to be a part of your family, Charles.” Your head is spinning. “I am ill suited. I cannot be your wife. I cannot handle those expectations with grace, Charles.”
“And I cannot bear to be without you,” he interrupts desperately. “I tire of waiting. I tire of waiting for you to come to your senses.” He says your name, a longing whisper on his lips. “I tire of you refusing me.”
Your blood turns to ice. There is a brief swoop of your stomach as you take another step back from Charles. The back of your heels hit the fountain and you nearly buckle backwards.
“I think you should go inside now, Your Highness,” you say, voice caught in the back of your throat.
Charles has no care for your personal space and neither your propriety for he comes closer. He cups your cheek with a too warm hand despite your flinch. This point of contact is damning. “Why would I do that?”
“Charles, I don’t have a chaperone.” The music is winding down and perhaps that is why your heartbeat sounds deafening in your ears. It will be no time at all before the guests begin to trickle out to enjoy the night air.
If Charles will not course correct, you will. You have every intention of slipping off and fueling a different type of rumor but Charles doesn’t move out of your way. Instead, his thumb rubs across your bottom lip with reverence. His touch anchors you to your spot.
Dread runs sluggishly through your veins when his eyes trail down your face. You are beginning to understand that there is only one way this night will end. And you are a fool for not realizing it the moment Charles stepped foot in this courtyard.
Your ankle scrapes against a sharp edge on the fountain, reminding you of your place. You have nowhere to go and nowhere to hide from Charles. He’s set the trap and you’ve found yourself a willing participant in your demise.
“You haven’t had a chaperone with me for years, my lady,” he points out softly. “Must you start now?”
Charles doesn’t wait for an answer.
For all of Charles’ gentle appearance, he kisses you like he’s starved. He dips you slightly, placing his other hand flat against the small of your back for stability. Without his foresight, you might’ve taken you both into the fountain.
Your hands weakly push at his chest but he pays no mind. Instead, he deepens the kiss. Scandalized does not cover what you feel when his tongue slips past the seam of your mouth.
A gasp is what allows you to pull away from Charles. Shock still clings to you, making your limbs stiff and your reaction delayed. His hand cradles your face even as you turn your head ever so slightly to gauge the damage.
And with the multiple pairs of eyes staring back at you, all with varying degrees of incredulity, you know there is no way for you to sweep this under the rug.
He gently turns your face back to him. A satisfied smile rests upon his mouth. Victory lurks behind his smile as he says, “Spring is a lovely time for a wedding, mon amour.”
this fic is finished. there will never be a part 2. thanks!
#charles leclerc#Charles Leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#Charles leclerc imagine#soft dark!charles leclerc#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 imagine#x reader#dark fic#writing: charles leclerc
690 notes
·
View notes
Text
unspoken thoughts
tags: modern au, wrothesley x fem! reader, roomates to lovers, reader goes on a blind date with a karen (tm), biker! wrio!!!!
word count: 1.7k
masterlist | taglist
“Hey, Bun. How was work?”
You meet Wriothesley with a level glare, as you fumble with locking the door. Maybe rooming with him had saved you money on rent, but what you’d saved had definitely been replaced with extra stress.
“I told you to stop calling me bunny.”
“Perhaps if you didn’t blush like that when I do, I would stop.” He replies, nursing a cup of tea and a book as he relaxes on the sofa. You glare at him again but lower yourself onto the sofa beside him.
“New delivery?” You ask, referring to the tea.
“The one that was delayed,” he says. “It was worth the wait.” He raises the cup to you and you take a sip, taking stock of all the flavours you can before Wriothesley begins to talk about it. One day, you’re sure he’ll find out that you actually have no interest in his teas, and that despite the fact he drives you mad, he’s actually just nice to listen to.
“Seems it was worth the money too,” You say once he’s finished talking. “Definitely belongs in the top ten.”
“Maybe even top five,” he replies, mostly to himself as you stand up. “More work?” he asks lightly, expecting you to grumble about how you're tired of always working, and you wish your manager would stop expecting you to work overtime for free, but this time you smile coyly.
“I have a blind date,” you say quietly, trying to ignore the way he’s looking up at you. “My friend set me up. He’s apparently a very refined, classy guy from a good family, and my friend says he thinks we’d get along well.”
“I wonder what your friend defines as a good family,” Wriothesley says, sipping his tea. “Money? Influence?” He’d never truly considered what you’d look for in a partner before, in fact, he liked to try and avoid the thought if possible. He prefers to only think about the things which affect him directly. But now the topic has been brought up, he suddenly feels strange. If coming from a good family is important to you… That would immediately take him out of the running, wouldn’t it?
“I dunno.” you shrug. “Sometimes my friend just says things. Anyway, thanks for sharing your tea. I’m gonna go get ready.”
Wriothesley watches as you walk away, sighing lightly as he takes another sip of his tea. He’s lived with you for so long that he never truly thought about how his life at home would change if you got a boyfriend. Would it mean he could no longer share his teas with you? Would he have to stop letting you sleep on him when you watch movies together?
He sits with his thoughts until he hears your keys as you leave your room.
“I’m off. Don’t stay up for me.” You smile, and Wriothesley can't help but hate himself for hating how happy you seem to be leaving. He sips his now-cold tea and nods.
“Have fun.”
“You’re grumbling. What’s the matter?” you say, pulling your jacket on.
“I am not grumbling.” he shoots back, standing up to go to the kitchen. “My tea got cold. That’s all.”
“You are so grumbling right now.” you grin. Wriothelsey doesn't know if you are purposefully ignoring his bad mood or if you're so excited about your date that you simply don’t notice, but he doesn’t really like either of those answers. “See you later!”
And then Wriothesley finds himself alone again. Maybe he’d taken it for granted that you’d always be around. Maybe he isn't as okay with the silence as he’d made himself believe he was.
Even though you told him not to wait up, he finds himself unable to sleep. He tells himself it's not because he’s worried, it's just because he had a rare lie in this morning. It's natural for his body to be slightly out of sync, right? You’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, and today is just like every other day and–
His phone is ringing. It’s odd for him to get called by his manager so late in the day, but it's also not rare.
It's even rarer for it to be you calling.
“Wriothesley?”
“Hey, Bun. What’s going on?” He can’t help but smile a little. There you are on a date, but you’re calling him.
“Are you busy right now?”
It's only then that he notices the wavering in your voice.
“I’m not. What’s the matter?”
“Can you come and get me? I… I’m sorry, I just don’t know who else to call.”
You sound cold, he notices. Your teeth chatter together in between your words, and the wavering in your voice seems to be getting worse.
“Where are you? Why aren’t you inside?” He grabs his keys and he’s out of the door before you even have the chance to respond. His legs are moving faster than his mind can, and he’s already halfway down the stairs before he knows it.
You tell him where you are, but pointedly avoid his second question, and he supposes that’s fair. Maybe you just don’t want to share.
“I’m coming. Don’t move.”
Even despite the fact he’s glad you called him, Wriothesley wonders why you didn’t call an Uber. You’ve always been very vocal about how much you hate his motorcycle, and how you wish he’d just get a car. is the situation so dire that you don't care anymore?
When he gets to you, you’re sat outside of an upscale restaurant. He’s sure you left with a jacket, but you don’t have it on now.
“Hey,” he says, sitting next to you. “What’s the matter?”
You burst into tears when he asks you that question, and for a second, Wriothesley has no clue what to do. It’s you who buries your face into his chest, sobbing desperately.
“It was going okay at first, but the waitress got the guy’s order wrong and he went crazy. So they asked him to pay and leave, and then he said he didn’t want to because his order was wrong. He demanded that a manager come and then he said that I should pay. And I said I’d pay for my half, but as I was saying that I wasn’t going to pay for him, the manager came and picked up the wrong end of the stick, and she wouldn’t listen to the waitress who was defending me. So she asked us both to leave, and he’s screaming his head off, and they barely even gave me time to grab my phone before they marched us out. They would have left me with him while he was blowing his top if it wasn’t for the waitress who came with me until he left.” you cling onto his jacket. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be embarrassed.” He says lowly. “It’s not your fault. It was never your fault.” He shrugs his jacket off and puts it over your shoulders. “Show me your table. I’ll get your stuff.”
“Wriothesley, please.” You can feel the anger radiating off him, and you worry about what will happen if he ends up on the wrong side of that manager.
“You shouldn’t suffer because of a guy with no manners. Let me get your things.”
You nod but insist on staying outside. The waitress that you said helped you earlier is the one that greets Wriothesley at the door, and you watch on as she brings him your things, and he settles the bill.
“You didn’t have to do that,” You tell Wriothesley as he returns.
“I did. Shall we go?” He asks, handing you a helmet. He’d bought that helmet for you when you first moved in together, just in case you ever needed to use his motorbike, but you always refused. He’s glad that it’s finally getting used at least once.
The ride home is silent, and you don’t say anything until you get back into your apartment. The feeling of the wind against your skin and your arms around Wriothesley calms you, and even though you feel humiliated by the actions of your stupid blind date, you feel that maybe things aren’t all that bad.
“You finally stopped calling me bunny,” you say, as you flop onto the sofa. Wriothesley hums in response as he fills up the kettle. In his haste, he’d left all of the lights in the apartment on.
“Does it bother you?”
“A little.”
“You’re so contrary.” He says finally. “You say you hate me calling you bunny, but here you are. You say you hate my motorbike, but you’re okay with me using it to pick you up.”
“I don’t hate your motorcycle.” You say, sitting up to look at him properly. “I think it’s cool.”
“Right, that’s why you refused to ever be near it.”
“I just hated the thought of you getting hurt on it.” You say finally. “It scared me.” He hands you a cup of tea and sits next to you. He hadn’t expected that to be your reasoning. “A part of me hoped that you wouldn’t let me go on that date, you know.”
“Why? It’s not my place to tell you what not to do. If you want to go on a blind date, I can’t stop you.” Those are the words he’d told himself as he watched you leave—you were your own person and it wasn’t his place to try and police what you do.
“You don’t understand.”
“Maybe I don’t,” he replies. “Help me understand.”
You take a deep breath. “If I kissed you, would that help you get it?”
“I don’t know. I suppose you’ll have to try.” He smiles. He barely even gets to finish his sentence when you pull him down to you and kiss him. In all the time he imagined he’d get to kiss you, he didn't think you’d be the one to initiate–-but even still, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer.
“Do you get it now?” you ask giddily.
“Not quite.”
So you kiss him again and again until he gets the message.
Bonus:
“You’re not the sharpest pencil in the box, really, are you?”
“Luckily for me, you’d make a great sharpener.”
© 2023, thesparklingwriter. please do not copy, edit, repost, or translate.
notes: um ig its time to add wrio to my taglist form lol.. i really cannot get a good grip on his character so if you read this without thinking "he would not do that" then I am relieved but if you did i am also not surprised lol
#wriothesley#wriothesley x reader#wrio x reader#wriothesley genshin#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin fluff#wriothesley fluff#genshin wriothesley
649 notes
·
View notes
Text
Positively unstoppable (Halsin Silverbough x reader)
synopsis: It is the height of bear mating season and with the heat around all of you, you and your group are forces to stop traveling for a while. Well, it seems your lover is not quite comfortable telling you it is mating season as he is scared you are weirded out. Yet he also can´t hold himself back when faced with you.
warnings: p in v sex, mating press, Halsin in heat should be his own warning, some bear like behaviour ig, basically porn without plot, kinda fluff at the end, afab reader
word count: 1.5k
taglist: @hopelesswritergall @foxyanon
(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)
A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon that requested Halsin in heat as soon as they saw my post about researching bear mating season for this <3
Dividers by me
The heat of the height of summer was burning down harsh upon your traveling bodies, bringing your party to a screeching halt when the only thing possible, was to put up camp and find a way to cool down your overheating forms. As soon as your tent is set up, you decide to head to the river nearby, wanting to cool down in the little lake it ended in.
Only after you rid yourself of the clothing and stepped into the water, you notice the towering form of Halsin sitting close by already, his eyes focused on the flow and movement of the river. From the movement of his shoulders, it was clear that he was breathing deeply, most likely meditating. For a moment you contemplate going over to him, but when you look back to where he sat Halsin was already gone. Or so you thought until the water began to ripple into small waves upon the druid stepping into it. He looks tense. More than usual and for sure more than the past couple of weeks, which honestly you didn´t think was possible.
“Are you feeling well? You have been behaving differently for quite some time now.” You voice your concern quietly as to not disturb the peace of the nature surrounding the two of you.
“I can assure you, that I am feeling quite alright.” His words hold relatively little meaning in the face of the way he borderline flinches away from your touch as you begin to run the water over his warm skin. Or the voice that comes out is gruff, yet you can feel his breath hitch just the slightest bit. Immediately you pulled your hands away from him, trying to see through him. A futile attempt so you take his hands in yours and look him deep in the eyes.
"Love, I would be fine even if you told me, you do not wish to talk about it, but just tell me truthfully. Are you alright?" Looking into his eyes, Halsin's pupils have swallowed almost all the green that surrounds them.
In what you perceive as just a sweet attempt to calm your worries, the tall man leans down to rest his forehead against yours, while holding your chin in one gentle hand.
"I am fine." He put emphasis on every word he speaks.
But you are so close and your scent so much stronger than the rest of the year, singing to him in the most irresistible tones. It all made the druid unable to keep himself from nuzzling your face and neck, thus eliciting a so far successfully held back moan and a shiver of arousal runs down your spine. A ripple of pleasure runs through your entire body when he begins to nibble on the tender skin.
"Halsin..." His name trembles from your tongue.
"You're mine." He only growls in return.
It's a rarely seen show of possession from your lover and all the more powerful whispered in the low baritone of his affected voice.
Halsin picks you up as if you weigh nothing and lays you in the grass at the riverbank and doesn't waste a second to crawl on top of you. With one swift motion he hooks his large, muscular arms into the hollow of your knees to lay them over his shoulders.
"Damn it, I cannot wait any longer. Your folds simply feel too immaculate." The druid breathes out the trembling words as he rubs his hard cock between your folds to tease the sensitive bundle of nerves atop it with his tip.
With one strong push and a sigh that fans his hot breath over your ear and cheek, Halsin bottoms out inside your tight cunt. In turn, your walls flutter around his thick member and your back arches until your chest squishes your legs even more between the two of you.
"Oh, you feel so good inside of me. Always stretch me out so much it's like my cunt will take the shape of your cock one day." You babble mindlessly as you get used to the stretch that feels like it threatens to split you in two.
Halsin doesn't give you much time to get used to his massive size as he sets for an ambitious pace, pushing into your core painfully over and over again until your pained whimpers and moans turn into sounds of pleasure and begging for more.
"Please do not ever stop." You cry out as Halsin's massive paw of a hand begins to pinch and twist your nipples, losing control of himself a bit more and taking the pace and intensity of his thrusts up a notch. One of your hand buried its nails in his shoulder to attempt to ground yourself, while the other grips and lightly pulls on his hair. Immediately your companion leans down to seal your lips with his, kissing you with teeth and tongue. The moment your lips meet, he is positively unstoppable.
You get pushed into the grass with his whole weight, his balls slap against your ass cheeks as you get rocked back and forth by inhumanely, animalistic thrusts. The wet sounds of the tip of Halsin´s cock bullying your most sensitive spot, drenching it in your juices as a result and making the sounds of your hips slapping against each other wetter as time went on. It felt so good that the brain fog soon took over, rendering you unable to kiss him back any longer.
“Nothing feels so divine as your tight walls fluttering around my cock.” Your brain barely registers the words the druid huffs against your lips before kissing you again. Unwavering despite the fact your lips hang open ever so slightly to make way for shaky breaths and high pitched, eager whines.
“Fuck, I can feel you are close, my love. Your cunt could not possibly squeeze me any tighter.” Halsin lets out another insatiable growl, before he coaxes the first peak out of your body. Revelling in the sight of you being shaken by the waves of pleasure he provides.
“Halsin…” You moan the druids name like a mantra, like a quiet prayer to your own personal god that simply continued to bless you with the pleasure that still caused your body to tremble in the aftershocks of climax.
Two more peaks he pulls from your body until you are nothing but a puddle of panting breaths overstimulated cries and a lose grip that tries to hold onto his shoulders, to hold your legs where he put them. Only then Halsin bottoms out inside of you once more. Buried as deep as he can, with his thick tip kissing the opening to your womb, he shoots a great amount of his seed into you. Together the two of you stay intermingled for what feels like an eternity. With your arms wrapped around the other to hold them close as you breathe in the air that the other lets out until you both feel dizzy. The druid wipes the sheen of sweat from your forehead with the greatest care and strokes a lost strand of hair behind your ear, while all you can do is to fight the brain fog and keep his eye contact. Those sage coloured eyes you loved so much, gently get you back to reality, where there is nothing left but to giggle until you burst into full on satisfied laughter.
“Hah, I had a feeling you would go insane on me one day. Yet I never would have imagined it would happen after I laid with you.” Halsin jests as he sits back on his haunches and taps your thighs to motion for you to assist him in sitting you up as well.
You follow his wordless command and sit up, wincing when there is a dull sensation shooting through your core.
“Do you feel aright, my love?” He asks with his eyebrows suddenly knitted together in concern.
“Yes, love. Positively spend, but fine nonetheless and you need not worry about my state of mind any time soon.” You lean forward to place a peck on the tip of your companion’s nose. “I was merely overwhelmed with the content feeling that floods me whenever I am near you and did not know how else to handle it. In fairness one should think I would have learned it by now, but I am far from it. It still is so hard to believe I am lucky enough to be able to call you mine.”
Gratefully you accept the small pouch of water that Halsin hands you and take a few sips, before handing it back.
“I understand what you mean. Sometimes it all feels like it is too good to be true. Like being on the verge of waking up from the most beautiful dream.” The soft voice of your lover makes you feel all fuzzy inside with how effortlessly he understands.
“Exactly, like being on the verge of waking up from the most immaculate dream.”
#halsin#halsin bg3#druid halsin#halsin silverbough#halsin x reader#halsin bg3 x reader#bg3#baldurs gate 3#bg3 fanfic#baldurs gate 3 fanfic
409 notes
·
View notes
Note
Sub Matt abcs or hcs (maybe one or two where reader uses a vibrator on him)
Sub!Matt Headcanons
Tags: @flowerxbunnie @simplysturn @lacysturniolo @mattslolita @megamett44-lover @creamoncreamoncream2 @soursturniolo @meg-sturniolo
a/n: this is absolute garbage lmao sorry in advance
Warnings: semi smut / cursing (maybe? didn’t proof read) / sex !!!!!!!!!! / mentions of overstimulation / p in v / no protection / the end has me clawing my hair out of my scalp
• He’s a good listener, he always has been. That doesn’t change in the bedroom. He wants to please, he wants to be good for you, he wants you to guide him
• He LOVESSSSS the pet names, ‘pretty boy’ being his favorite
• It takes some convincing to use toys on him, but when he finally lets you use the vibrator he loses any and all sense of dignity that he once had. It shocked both of you seeing how much he enjoyed it. Although he’ll never bring it up first, when you ask if he wants to use it he is more than willing.
• Matt goes feral for your tits. Practically begging you to suffocate him with them. He loves to suck on them and hold them and feel the weight of them in his hands. He loves feeling your nipples hardening under his touch or his tongue.
• And on the rare occasion that you titty fuck him, he is a whining mess. He loves to watch his cock get lost in the valley of your breasts, feeling the warmth of your skin engulfing him. It drives him absolutely crazy.
• He doesn’t pull the ‘mommy’ card often, just when he can’t handle the teasing any longer.
• “P-Please, I’ve been s-such a good b-boy, I-I’m so close, please. Need it s-so bad, p-please mommy-“
• Not crazy about restraints, he likes being able to touch and feel you. He’ll do it every now and again but he’d much rather have his hands on you.
• He does, however, enjoy the blindfold. Never knowing when you’ll touch him or where. It drives him crazy. It makes his dick throb just thinking about what you’ll do to him next.
• He loves being marked up. He’ll bitch and moan about it the next morning, knowing he’ll have to cover it up before recording later, but he loves the possessiveness. He’ll lay there and let you mark him up for hours, he practically lives for it.
• He’s a good boy, he always makes sure to ask for permission before doing anything. “Please can I touch you? I-I’ll make you feel so good, I promise…” “F-Fuck please d-do that again, o-oh god…” “P-Please let me cum, I’ve been so good, I-Im such a good boy, p-please…”
• After the third or fourth round, he’s a mess. Panting, whining, sweating. Muscles in his thighs spasming from the intensity of his numerous orgasms, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, his sweaty hair sticking to your neck as he rests his head on your chest. Trailing kisses along your breasts and up to your collarbone. Soft “thank you”s leaving his lips as he tries to catch his breath.
• The aftercare is his favorite part. Soft praises of his performance whispered in his ear, your fingers running through his messy hair, nails gently massaging his scalp. He stays buried in you, loving the closeness and the warmth between you both.
• He could stay like that all night, but once he senses your tired energy, he lays down with you, pulling you into his chest. His arms around your body, fingers gently massaging your hipbones, his lips leaving tender kisses across your face.
• He professes his love in soft gravely whispers, his fingers now tracing the shape of your jawline while he stares into your eyes. He kisses your lips, much gentler now, savoring the taste with a slow sensual make-out session
• To end the evening, he asks if you can cockwarm him, and you aren’t one to deny his wishes. He’s gentle and slow, making sure to not hurt you or get things too heated again. With him buried in you once again, he pulls your back against his chest, peppering soft kisses along your shoulder. His hand instinctively comes up to rest at the base of your neck, fingers ever so gently wrapping around your throat, though being careful not to apply any pressure.
• “My perfect girl,” He whispers, kissing your jaw. “What did I do to get so lucky?”
#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#i need him in a way that is concerning to feminism#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo#matthew sturniolo smut#mattsturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#mattsturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo headcanon#smut#sturniolo#headcanon
475 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Perfect Match
summary: Chisaki isn't looking forward to meeting his soulmate, at least not until he discovers that you are Quirkless.
tags: soulmate!au, fluff, fem!reader
It’s just so annoying. Even though he’s lived with it all his life, Chisaki swears he’ll never get used to seeing that godforsaken timer counting down. It’s always there, in the corner of his periphery, and it only ever disappears when he shuts his eyes and lets everything fade to black.
A soulmate mark. That’s what it’s called. People have different variations of it—some know the first words their soulmate will ever speak to them, some have a red string tying them to their soulmate that only they can see, and others, like him, have been stuck with a timer since birth that tells him how much longer until he meets his soulmate for the first time.
And based on how much time is remaining, it looks like he’ll be meeting his soulmate today.
Chisaki isn’t excited. If anything, he’s dreading the encounter, and he just wishes it would hurry up and be over with. At least then, the timer will disappear, and it’ll be one less thing grating at his nerves. He doesn’t believe in the phenomenon of soulmates, he has no desire for trifling matters such as love, and for a man who loathes being touched, he can’t imagine it would work out anyhow.
Much of the day goes as planned. He helps Pops with some paperwork, cleans up the office to keep all those pesky germs away, and Chisaki briefly wonders how he’ll even meet you, since he intends on staying home all day.
“Chisaki,” Pops suddenly says. “Would you mind going out into town and buying me a few things? I wrote a list of what I need.”
Ah. So, that’s how.
“Of course,” Chisaki nods, and he puts on his jacket before slipping his shoes on by the door. “I’ll be back soon. It won’t take long.”
Seriously, it really won’t. Regardless of the fact that he’s going to run into you, he has no intention of staying and chatting. He’s going to reject you right on the spot. Soulmates aren’t real, anyways. What a stupid notion, to think that someone’s greatest love can be predetermined.
Chisaki adjusts his mask more tightly, then steps outside. He reaches the store quickly enough, and although he hates having to touch things that countless strangers have laid hands on, his gloves provide him with a thin layer of protection from all the filth.
He tracks down everything he needs at a steady pace, and as he reaches for the very last item on his list, someone else reaches for it at the exact same time.
Immediately, Chisaki recoils, and he manages to avoid touching a stranger’s hand. But right as he’s biting back the urge to grimace, he realizes that the timer—the same timer he’s had all his life—his finally disappeared.
Ah.
So, it’s you. Chisaki turns his head to the side and finds himself looking at a young woman, who is staring back at him wide-eyed and breathless. He has a pretty good idea of what’s going on in your head. You must have realized it, too.
After more than two decades, he’s finally met his soulmate.
You’re pretty. Chisaki can at least admit that much. You have nice features, you dress in a way that suggest you care about your appearance, and you have a pleasant, clean scent, which means that you take personal hygiene seriously—thank god.
But all that being said, Chisaki still has no desire to strike up a relationship with you. He doesn’t enjoy being around people. He can’t even bear to touch people, not counting Pops, who is his family. Not to mention that he’s part of the yakuza, and from what he gleams, you seem to be an average citizen.
There’s just no reality in which this would ever work out.
“U-Um,” you stammer, visibly nervous. “Are you...? I mean, um... it’s you, right? You must be my... soulmate.”
It’s a bit endearing how flustered you are, and for a moment, Chisaki feels slightly guilty about what he’s going to do.
Still. It’s better to tell you the truth now rather than let you get your hopes up.
“The timer,” Chisaki nods. “I have it too. Well, I did have it. Up until a few seconds ago, at least.”
A smile blooms across your lips, and it tugs at his heartstrings a bit, because goodness, you really are adorable.
“I knew it!” you beam. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this is really happening! I’m so excited! But I guess that was pretty obvious, haha. Sorry. I’m going to try to calm down now, but it’s just—this is just so—”
Chisaki raises a hand. “Before you say anything else, I need to let you know that I have no interest in pursuing a relationship with you.”
It only takes a second for your expression to sink.
“...what?” you mumble softly. “But... we’re soulmates. I thought that means we’re supposed to be together for the rest of our lives. I didn’t mean that we should start dating right away, but at the very least, if we could start by getting to know each other...”
“I’m sorry,” Chisaki says. “I don’t have much interest in romance. I prefer to keep to myself, and frankly, I’m not even sure I believe in soulmates. It all seems far too convenient. It was nice meeting you, but we’ll have to leave it here.”
By the looks of things, you’re on the verge of tears. Chisaki isn’t a very emotional person, but he can’t fault you for getting your hopes up. This must have been something you’d been looking forward to for many, many years. If only your soulmate was someone else. It’s a pity. You seem like a very nice woman, and he hopes that you’ll find happiness one way or another. Just not with him.
You swallow hard, just barely managing to hold back your tears. “I... understand. I’m sorry. I came into this with all these expectations, but I never stopped to think that the other person might not have been as excited as I was. I guess I was just really hopeful. I’m Quirkless, so... people have always thought less of me. I figured my soulmate would like me no matter what, but we’re pretty much strangers, so I don’t know what I was thinking. Anyways, I’m sorry again for bothering you. I’d ask your name, but it would probably just make the whole thing more painful.”
You turn to leave, but in that moment, Chisaki’s eyes have gone completely wide.
What did she just say?
“Wait!” he cries out, and you reel to a halt, surprised by the outburst.
Now it’s Chisaki’s turn to swallow. The roof of his mouth feels dry and uncomfortable, and he worries that perhaps his ears deceived him.
“You’re Quirkless,” he breathes. “Is that... really true?”
“I’m not sure who would lie about something like that,” you chuckle weakly. “It’s not exactly something to be proud of.”
Wrong. You don’t even know just how wrong you are.
In a world teeming with filth and sickness, those who haven’t been contaminated by the Quirk pandemic are a rarity. People like you are unblemished and pure, and...
Shit. Chisaki is starting to believe that soulmates might be the real deal, after all.
“It’s okay not to have a Quirk,” he says, and it’s insane how fast his heart is beating now. “No. It’s better not to have a Quirk. I much prefer it that way.”
You press your lips together. “Are you making fun of me right now? Listen, I said I was sorry for bothering you—”
“I’m not making fun of you. I’m being completely serious. Quirks... I’ve never liked them. Just the thought of them makes me sick.” He pauses, inhales sharply to collect himself, then lets out a heavy sigh. “The reason I turned you away is because I thought it would be impossible for us to have a relationship. I break out into hives the moment anyone touches me. I distance myself from people, and the thought of being intimate with someone has always repulsed me. And Quirks are largely to blame for that, because Quirks are a mutation. A disease. That’s why I didn’t think we had a chance. But now that you say you’re Quirkless... I’m starting to think differently.”
You arch a brow, and it’s clear that you don’t understand where he’s coming from. Fuck. He hopes he isn’t scaring you off. He’s finally, finally found someone who he has an actual chance of being with, and he doesn’t want to ruin this.
“If you don’t mind... would it be alright if I held your hand?” Chisaki asks breathlessly.
Once again, you stare back at him in confusion, but it thankfully doesn’t look like you’re opposed to it. You reach out a hand, slow and hesitant, and at the same time, Chisaki peels off on his gloves, letting his skin breathe free.
When your fingers meet his own, he lets out a soft gasp. Not out of disgust, not out of apprehension, but out of sheer relief.
No hives. No uncomfortable tightness in his chest.
You aren’t sick like the rest, which means he can touch you to his heart’s content.
Chisaki would have liked to hold your hand for much, much longer, but out of fear of scaring you off, he reluctantly lets go and gives you some space.
“I just wanted to confirm something,” he mumbles. “If it’s you... I’m able to touch you just fine. I don’t get sick. It looks like we’re soulmates for a reason.”
The look in your eyes is far from judgmental, and when you finally muster up your next words, Chisaki can hear a little hiccup catch in your throat.
“So... you really don’t mind that I’m Quirkless?” you ask.
“Not at all. It’s just the opposite. I feel comfortable around you precisely because you’re Quirkless. That must be why we were fated to meet. Because we’re a perfect match.”
Chisaki has never flirted a day in his damn life, but something he said must have tickled your fancy, because you blush and shyly avert your gaze.
“I was really worried there for a moment,” you mumble. “It sounded like you wanted nothing to do with me.”
“I’m sorry,” Chisaki frowns. “I was too quick to judge. I’m very particular about certain things, and I thought there was no chance. But I was mistaken. And if you’re still open to it... I would love the opportunity to get to know you better. Starting with your name. Would you mind telling me your name?”
“I’m [Name],” you reply, and you flash him another bright, genuine smile. God, he swears he’s already fallen in love with that smile.
“It suits you. I’m Chisaki. Chisaki Kai.” He takes a moment to think it through, and then, he does something he’s never done before in public.
He removes his mask so that you can see his entire face.
Your eyes widen. “Oh, wow. Chisaki, you’re so handsome! I didn’t realize my soulmate would be so gorgeous. Now I can’t help but feel self-conscious by comparison...”
“I appreciate the compliment,” he chuckles. “But you’re beautiful. I thought so even before I found out you were Quirkless.”
He watches, with great delight, as you blush yet again. You’re just so adorable. He never thought he would be thanking his lucky stars for having a soulmate mark, let alone one that caused him endless frustration for more than twenty years, but here he is.
“I was going to head straight home after running some errands for my old man, but how about we sit outside somewhere and chat for a while?” he asks hopefully.
Your smile returns, this time, wider than ever.
“Sure!”
As it turns out, Chisaki doesn’t get back home until much, much later, and he finds Pops waiting for him with his arms crossed.
“Chisaki,” Pops frowns. “What was the hold-up? You’re usually so efficient when it comes to these things. I was expecting you back hours ago.”
Normally, Chisaki would have apologized at great length for inconveniencing Pops. He is, after all, the man that brought him and raised him as his own. He loves and cherishes him, and will do anything in his power to repay him.
But right now, Chisaki is up in cloud nine.
“I met my soulmate,” he says, setting the shopping bags down. “Sorry, Pops. We got to talking for a while.”
“Oh?” Pops lifts a brow, and tries—but fails—to hide his smirk. “But I thought you said you wanted nothing to do with them. You told me you didn’t believe in such things.”
“Well, I changed my mind.”
“I’ve never known you to be the type to do that. You’re stubborn to a fault. But I’m not complaining. It sounds like you’ve turned over a new leaf. So, then, tell me about this soulmate of yours.”
For the second time that same day, Chisaki removes his mask—and it’s so that Pops can see his ear-splitting grin.
“She’s perfect.”
#my hero academia#bnha imagines#boku no hero academia#bnha#mha#mha imagines#overhaul x reader#bnha overhaul#bnha chisaki#chisaki kai#chisaki kai x reader#fluff#mha oneshot#bnha villains#soulmates#mha x reader#bnha x reader#romance
988 notes
·
View notes
Text
Waiting in the Wings: Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader
Tags: nsfw, ModernAU, friends to lovers, oral (specifically face sitting), penetrative sex, creampie, and dirty talk
You felt humiliated.
Your stupid date just had to ditch you right before your night out. You had gotten all dressed up and put your makeup on; you even did your hair a particular way, only for him to say he couldn’t make it an hour before the outing.
This was so stupid.
You kept repeating that to yourself over and over as you scrubbed off your makeup, tied your hair back, and changed out of that lovely dress you were wearing.
This was frustrating; you didn’t even like the guy that much, yet he thought he could stand you up? You knew you could do much better and still decided to accept his date proposal anyway.
As you settled into your pajamas and were looking for takeout to supplement the nice dinner you were supposed to have, your phone rang. Your eyes focused on the name at the top.
Ace
Ace was your best friend. He always had been, and, honestly, you really wished you were going out with him instead.
But you didn’t want to mess up your relationship, so you’ve been trying to find someone else.
It felt weird going to him about relationship stuff, but you were trying to push past that feeling; you had to start treating him like a friend, not a potential partner. So, you decided to vent to him like a friend would. You quickly wiped away the tears you didn’t realize had started to form.
You answered the phone with the camera tilted towards your bed frame and the wall above it. You could see his video feed, though; he was lying in bed too, only the upper half of his face showing, his eyes wide with excitement.
“You’ll never guess what I found at-” He stopped himself before asking, “Hey, what are you doing in bed? Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for that date?”
“Not anymore,” You sighed, “The guy canceled on me.”
Ace blinked a few times before angling the camera downwards so it showed his whole face, his face screwed up in a confused expression, “What? Did he say why?”
You shook your head, “He just suddenly said something came up. Didn’t even bother saying he wanted to reschedule for another date or anything-“
Ace clicked his tongue, “That’s rude-“
You hummed and nodded slowly, agreeing with him.
And you made the mistake of sniffling.
Ace sat up at the sound, furrowing his brow, “Are you crying?”
Despite your embarrassment, you angled the camera down so he could see your puffy red eyes and wet cheeks, “Just a little..”
Silence hung in the air for a moment.
“Hey, tell you what,” Ace said after a while, “Let’s hang out tonight, okay? You, me, and some pizza. Sound cool?”
You nodded and spoke up, your voice wavering, “Thanks, Ace. You always know just what to say.”
He laughed a bit, “Hey, what are buds for, right?”
Your heart broke at those words.
Buds. Friends. Pals.
He always used those words to describe you guys.
It was clear he would never feel anything more for you.
The thought made you feel conflicted; Sure, you had him as a great friend- Look at what he was doing now, buying you dinner and giving you a shoulder to cry on, but you wanted more than this, and the fact that you knew it would never be more only made you more upset.
But you wouldn’t think about that now; you decided that, for the moment, you should just be grateful that he’s in your life at all.
“I’ll be over with the pizza in half an hour, okay?”
“Okay.”
_____
Ace eventually knocks at your door, and you answer, dressed in a t-shirt and pajama pants. Your eyes are still a bit swollen, but fortunately, your tears are no longer flowing.
Ace smiles a bit, “Hey, sorry about your date. Buttttt…”
He presents the pizza with a flourish, “Ta-da.”
You laugh a bit at his gift and showy display.
“Thanks, just put it on the table.”
Ace takes the familiar route to your living room and places the pizza on the coffee table in front of the couch. He plops on the sofa and leans back, placing his hat on the table.
“So, how you holding up?” Ace asks, looking up at you as you sit on the other end of the couch, leaving space between you both.
“I’m alright,” You sigh, leaning back into the couch cushions.
He raises an eyebrow, some silence occupying the room before he speaks, “It’s okay to not be okay, you know…”
Your lips form a thin line as you think his words over. He was right; if there was anyone you could talk about this with, it was him. Tentatively, you begin to speak.
“I know, it’s just…” you sigh again, “You know this isn’t the first time someone I was supposed to meet canceled on me…”
He nods, his words apologetic, “Yeah, I know…”
“And it’s not even like I really liked him that much or anything, so I’m not really crying over him.” You start, annoyance and frustration in your voice.
Ace nods in understanding.
“I’m just starting to think that, I don’t know, maybe there’s something wrong with me? Maybe they think I’m boring to talk to over text?” You shake your head and look down at your hands on your lap, “Or maybe they look at my photos again and realize I’m really ugly…”
Ace clears his throat, and you look up at him.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re boring… or ugly at all.”
You smile softly, your heart racing, “Thanks, Ace…”
Ace smiles, and you notice his eyes comb through the room, looking for a way to change the topic. When his eyes land on the remote, his face lights up.
“Here,” Ace picks up the remote, “Let’s throw something on to take your mind off it. Trashy reality TV always takes people’s minds off their problems, right?”
You snort, “What?”
He shrugs lightheartedly, “I don’t know, I just know people eat this stuff up! Let’s throw on something that looks really bad for fun.”
You giggle as he turns on the TV, navigating to your favorite streaming app. He hums as he scrolls through the menus, eventually settling on something that looks absolutely horrible.
It’s perfect.
You kind of pay attention for the first fifteen or twenty minutes, but you and Ace are talking over the whole thing, commenting on the contestants and the stupid plot of the show. Eventually, your combined commentary goes off track when one of the male contestants says something a bit too forward to another. You momentarily tear your eyes from the television to give a snide remark.
“God, these people act like they’ve never had sex before,” You snort, “It’s the first day, and they’re already trying to fuck each other.”
Ace snickers along with you, his eyes still glued to the tv, “I mean, maybe they hadn’t gotten laid in a while?”
“I’ve been going months without dick, and you don’t see me acting up- “
That catches his attention.
He turns his head towards you and blinks a few times as if surprised, “Wait, you’re serious? It’s been months?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“Damn,” Ace says, something unreadable in his expression, “I mean, was the last time at least good?”
Your face heats up, “Uh, well, he didn’t go down on me and lasted, like, two minutes, so…”
Ace looks shocked, stunned even at your confession, “He didn’t eat you out? Like, at all?”
You feel your body grow hot, and you shake your head. You never thought you would talk to Ace about your sexual encounters with other people like this.
Ace chuckles before speaking, “Goddamn, if I was in bed with you, I would’ve eaten the fuck out of that-“
His face immediately goes bright red, “I-I mean, with a girl like you, not you!”
“U-Uh, right-” You cough awkwardly.
He abruptly stops talking, and the only sound in the room is of some women arguing on television. Ace looks away from you and tries to get back into the show. But as you turn to look back at the television, you occasionally peek at him from the corner of your eye. Ace is shifting uncomfortably in his seat, and you can tell he’s embarrassed about what he just said.
Under normal circumstances, you’d drop the subject, but after tonight, after dealing with shitty guy after shitty guy, you weren’t going to let the man you actually wanted get away.
“I mean, I wouldn’t be mad if you wanted to do it with me.”
That gets Ace’s attention.
“Huh?”
“W-Well,” You clear your throat, “The way you said it, it sounded like you wanted to do it with me, so I figured I’d, uh, offer… Let you know I’d be up for it.”
Ace turns, offering you his full attention now, “N-No, that’s not right. You’re all messed up about this dating thing. I’d be such a piece of shit to take advantage of-”
Your ears twitch at his phrasing. It sounds like he really did want you. You weren’t going to back off now, not when what you’ve fantasized about for so long was within reach.
Suddenly, in an act of boldness, you begin to crawl toward the dark-haired man. He backs up until his lower back hits the couch’s armrest. He gulps as he looks down at you, his face turning a soft shade of pink.
“You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me…”
“You’re not… thinking straight…” he swallows thickly, strictly keeping his hands at his sides.
“Ace,” You start, your lips moving on their own before your brain can catch up or stop you, “I’ve always wanted you… I just didn’t want to mess up everything..”
Ace’s eyes bulge as wide as saucers as he looks down at you, your confession continuing, “I started going on stupid dating apps and stuff to try and get over my crush on you but, fuck, it just isn’t working. None of those guys compare to you.”
You crawl even closer, moving so that your lips are dangerously close to his, “I still just want you… A-And I know I avoided saying all this because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but I can’t keep pretending like… like I’m not in love with you.”
Your face feels hot as you realize you have confessed your love for him. You’re terrified that you’ve scared him off, that maybe he only wanted to hook up with you casually or as a one-time thing to satisfy his curiosity.
But you know he feels the same as you do when he closes the gap without another word.
Your lips press against each other’s, and a gasp escapes you as he snakes his hands over your hips, his warm palms resting comfortably on your body.
You sigh happily into his lips as he licks over your bottom lip, politely asking for permission to taste you. You part your lips and introduce your tongue to his, the wet appendages dancing.
When he pulls away, he laughs softly, “You have no idea how long I wanted to do that…”
“You have no idea how long I dreamed of you doing that…”
“I guess we should make up for lost time then…”
He pulls you into his lap and kisses you again, his hands trailing over your ass and squeezing it firmly. You gasp at his boldness. As you two continue to kiss, you feel his cock hardening beneath you and blush softly at how excited he is for you.
“Fuck, I-” He breathes shakily, “Can I be real for a second?”
“Go ahead,” You laugh, “Tell me what you’re thinking..”
Ace places his hands on your hips as he looks up at you, his face bright red.
“I know we literally just confessed to each other, but, ah,” He stutters a bit, “I really wanna fuck you right now- And I know that’s not, like, romantic or anything, but I really wanna be inside you.”
You look back at him, your face burning hot at his honesty.
Before you can respond, he starts babbling, “Uh, but, y’know, it’s cool if you wanna take things slow! We can just pretend I never said that and-”
You grab him by his shoulders and kiss him deeply. And as quickly as the two of you come together, you part.
“Did you forget how this all started?” You giggle before lowering your voice to a whisper, “I want you to fuck me.”
Ace smiles and captures your lips yet again. The kiss is passionate and maybe a bit sloppy, but you both have been yearning for each other’s touch for so long that it doesn’t matter. But as soon as things start to get a bit more heated, Ace pulls himself away.
“Oh shit, wait.” Ace curses, “I don’t have any condoms or anything on me-”
“Don’t worry about that,” You giggle, “I’m on birth control, so we’re good.”
“Oh, thank god,” He sighs in relief, but you can see the gears turning in his head before he speaks again, “Does that mean I can…?”
“Cum inside me?” You snort.
He blushes a vibrant red, “Y-Yeah.”
You smirk and lean forward, whispering in his ear, “Only if you promise to fill me up real nice…”
“Fuck,” He breathes shakily, “I promise. Hell, I’ll pinky promise-”
“I’ll hold you to it,” You grin, extending your pinky before he takes it with his own, sealing the deal.
You giggle before pressing a kiss to his lips, your kisses soon trailing down to his neck. You suck gently on the skin, surely leaving marks behind.
Soon you’re tugging on the hem of his shirt, and he gets the message, pulling it over his head. With his torso newly exposed, you kiss and nip at his chest, sliding your tongue over his nipples just to see if they’re sensitive. He groans and calls your name so sweetly, making your heart swell with pride; he is so vocal and all just for you. After playing with his tender nipples for a bit, you decide to chart the rest of his body; after all, there is much more to explore. You eventually reach his stomach, your lips grazing over his dark happy trail. Ace bites his lip as your lips are mere centimeters away from his cock, the only thing separating your lips from his shaft being a few layers of clothing.
With eager fingers, you reach to unbutton his shorts. He lifts his hips so you can slide them down along with his underwear. His cock is dark red, precum leaking desperately from his tip.
“Looks like you could use some attention, hm?” You giggle, wrapping a hand around him and stroking slowly.
He reaches out a hand, stopping your movements, “No, wait-”
Your brows raise, and he continues, “This whole thing has been you taking care of me so far, and you said last time you had sex, he didn’t even go down on you, so let me take care of you…”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” He grins, “Just take your clothes off and climb up here…”
Your face blushes at the implication, “You want me to sit on your face?”
His smile only widens, “Is that a problem?”
You shake your head and begin to peel your clothes off your body. Soon you’re before him, completely nude, just as he is. You notice his dick twitch as you crawl forward, and you laugh at how honest his body is.
With your hips positioned over his face, your pussy terribly close to his lips, you announce, “Okay, I’m ready.”
“You need to get lower, sweetheart.” Ace laughs, and your heart throbs at the nickname.
You lower yourself even further, but Ace doesn’t seem satisfied, “You’re still hovering. You gotta actually sit on my face-”
“Won’t it be hard to breathe..?”
“Hey, if I go out like this, I’ll die a happy man.” Ace chuckles before grabbing your hips, “So c’mon, just sit down, okay?”
You hesitate for a second, but after taking a deep breath, you sit on his face, your pussy pressed against his lips.
Ace groans loudly as you do so, immediately getting to work. He kisses your clit a few times before his tongue darts out, swiping over it. You jump a bit, lifting your hips off his face accidentally. You’re about to apologize and lower yourself back down, but Ace beats you to the punch, gripping your ass and forcing your cunt back onto his lips with a growl. He eats you out like a man possessed, slobbering all over your clit and sucking on it greedily. You were starting to think he asked to do this not just because he felt sympathetic but because he would enjoy it so much.
You sigh as you feel his tongue press penetrate your hole, the warm, flexible appendage feeling incredible inside you. Ace’s hands squeeze your ass, firmly keeping you in place despite how you squirm and squeal. You look down below as Ace has his eyes closed, his brow furrowed in concentration as he focuses on making you feel good. You bite your lip and reach up to squeeze your breasts, rocking your hips against his tongue.
He pulls his tongue out for a moment to murmur, “That’s it, baby, use my tongue however feels good…”
His voice is husky and deep, sending a shudder through you; his words of encouragement light up your core, and you’re bolder with your movements now, rocking your hips shamelessly.
As Ace speeds up his pace, your legs begin to shake. He chuckles into your mound, moving his hands to your thighs as if to reassure you that everything is okay and that he wants you to just let go.
“Ace…” You whine, “I-I’m so close.”
Your chest grows tight as you hold your breath, your hips speeding up to shoot yourself over the edge. Ace grips your thighs even tighter, trying to stay close to you.
Soon you’re squealing as your orgasm washes over you, Ace still sucking and licking your clit as you ride the intense wave. Your toes curl, and your back arches as you wiggle your hips, trying to get as much friction as possible.
As the feelings of pleasure fade, you move down from his mouth, straddling his waist. You notice his cock is even flushed scarlet now, the angry-looking shaft throbbing and twitching like crazy.
“That was so hot, you don’t even know.” He says, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand.
You giggle and reach down to stroke his cock, coaxing precum out of the swollen tip, “Was it as good as you thought it would be?”
“Hell yeah,” He smirks, “I’d eat your pussy all day if you’d let me-”
“Maybe another day, because now…” You hum, “Now it’s your turn to cum…”
Ace’s dark eyes sparkle and flicker with anticipation as you lay on your back, spreading your legs wide, “Come on and fill me up… Remember, you promised~”
Ace licks his lips as he hovers above you, one hand holding the base of his cock as the other supports his weight. He rubs his head over your sensitive clit a few times, his warm precum dribbling onto it.
When he pushes in, there’s hardly any resistance at all. Your pussy greedily sucks him in, clenching and squeezing around him tight. He groans and lowers his head, his dark curls falling in his face as he is lost in the initial penetration.
“Start slow,” You laugh, “Like I said, it’s been a while.”
“Yeah,” He nods, “Don’t worry, I got you, sweetheart…”
He rocks his hips slowly, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back inside to the base each and every time. His movements are smooth, fluid, as he takes his time and focuses on being gentle.
You sigh happily as he makes you feel good. You can’t help but look between your legs and watch as his cock slides in and out of you. You like seeing his swollen cock leave, but you also love watching it plunge back inside.
After a short while, you begin to grow antsy; this felt nice, but you wanted him to go faster, to fuck you harder.
“Ace…” You whine sweetly, and he practically reads your mind.
“You want me to speed things up?”
You nod, and he kisses you again before leaning back and lifting your hips, angling his thrusts so they hit your g-spot. His hips work faster now, his gaze glued to where your bodies repeatedly meet. You moan out his name, and your hands ball into fists as you’re overwhelmed by the pleasure.
Ace notices and leans forward, his face inches from yours as he teases you, “Am I fucking you right, baby? Do you feel good?”
You nod dumbly and reach for his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin.
“Aw, you gotta say it,” He coos, his confidence at an all-time high, “Say exactly how you feel, sweetheart.”
“It feels so good-” You gasp, “Please, don’t stop-!”
He licks his lips, and his voice rasps, “How can I say no when you beg so pretty, huh?”
Ace leans forward and kisses you deeply, your tongues sliding against each other as you moan together. Your hands find his dark hair and use it to pull him closer, wanting him to be as close as he possibly can be to you.
Your lips part, and Ace takes your legs, pushing them as far as they can go to make a complete mess of you. The new angle makes him hit deeper, your toes curling in delight. Your breathing becomes labored as he fucks into you hard; the rough, harsh thrusts will definitely bruise your insides, but it feels so good that you don’t even care.
“Oh my god,” his voice drips with lust, “You’re squeezing me so tight. I can feel your pussy sucking me in; it feels so fucking good-”
You whimper as his thrusts jostle you, your nails digging into his back as you desperately try to ground yourself. He pounds into you like it’s the last time he’ll ever experience such pleasure, his eyes hooded as he watches you writhe and moan.
His own sounds grow louder, his moans and whimpers filling the room as he fucks you. Each powerful thrust leaves you breathless, and with every desperate call of your name and curse that he utters, you feel your core lighting up even brighter.
Soon the pressure becomes unbearable.
“A-Ace, I’m gonna cum-” You gasp.
“I can feel it, baby,” he rasps out, “You’re so fucking close- you can do it-”
He grits his teeth and works himself in and out of you with renewed vigor as if your words were an enchantment. He huffs and moans shamelessly, his cock twitching and throbbing within you.
“Come on,” he urges, “Cum for me- cum all over my cock-!”
His pleas reach your ears, and it causes a glorious orgasm to emerge from within you. Stars dance across your vision as you let out a shaky moan, your juices coating his thick shaft.
He watches your face as he now focuses on chasing his high, his thrusts growing sloppy and erratic. He grunts, “Fuck, you’re so good- you’re gonna make me cum…!”
As soon as he says it, his hips still, and you feel him fill you up with his cum. He groans loudly as shot after shot fills your cunt, the sticky cream stuffing you full. Your legs quiver as he lowers them gently, keeping them spread as he slowly fucks his essence into you.
He lets out a shaky breath before pulling out, the cum leaking out of your hole despite his efforts to keep it inside.
His eyes dart to your face before he grabs you, pulling you on top of him as he flops onto his back. Ace kisses you softly, his hands finding your hips and circling the flesh with his thumbs.
He hums softly as he pulls away from your lips, “I love you…”
Your eyes widen in surprise and his in realization.
He quickly stumbles, “Uh- shit- sorry- that was probably too soon to say that-“
You smile, pressing a finger to his lips, “Don’t you remember? I already said that earlier.”
“You said you were in love with me, not that you loved me. I feel like that’s different-”
“Shut up, you’re overthinking it,” you laugh, “We both love each other, okay?”
Ace lets out a relieved sigh and hugs you tight, kissing your cheek. A soft giggle leaves your lips as you see how he stares at you with admiration and love.
“But you know, if we both love each other,” he chuckles, “You’re gonna have to delete your profiles off those dating apps now.”
“Way ahead of you.”
#cream's fics#portgas d ace#ace x reader#x reader#portgas d. ace#portgas d ace x reader#portgas d. ace x reader#fanfiction#one piece smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Twisted Zoo: Chapter One
This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .
Also @twistedcece @ursinaw @thisisafish123 and @cenatour wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me!
Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you.
Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.
WARNINGS: none for now
Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.
Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.
Thank you for everyone on Tumblr and Quotev for guessing! A lot of you have gotten ones right but there no one's gotten all of Heartslaybul (which makes me worry I did badly there)
Now, onto the Hyenas, Lions, and Wolves!
Prologue here
Next chapter here
—----------------------------------
Since the wolves were right across from the lions and hyenas, you would be expected to divide your time equally between the two for your first official day at The Halfling Zoo. That was a pain, since all three of those species were more active at night.
“You’ll be doing today’s morning feedings, right?” a woman in the zoo’s uniform asked you.
“Yes, for the lions, hyenas, and wolves,” you replied cheerfully.
The woman gave a sigh of relief, “Thank goodness- the lions always look like they’re about to kill you if you make the wrong move. Good luck!”
You stared blankly at her retreating figure. You really wish she hadn’t said that, because now you were absolutely terrified to step foot in that enclosure. Mr. Crowley had said to you yesterday, among all the other welcoming ramblings, that you had to go into each exhibit and give the food directly to the halflings, as opposed to leaving the food near the door and waiting for them to come and grab it.
After the zoo keeper’s “encouraging” words, you decided to give food to the hyenas first.
The hyena halflings were easy to spot- the group of seven or so male halflings sat in a group, talking and laughing loudly. There was one boy in the center of the crowd, waving his hands emphatically as he conversed with his peers.
As soon as you approached the hyena halflings, the mood immediately shifted. The halflings took several steps back, the conversation ceasing at once, all of them staring at you through weary, distrustful eyes.
That’s right- male hyenas are submissive toward females since they are usually aggressive and stronger.
“It’s alright!” you tried to speak as soothingly as possible, putting down the bucket of steaks so you could raise your palms in a non-threatening manner. They watched you carefully, still distrustful.
Finally, the boy from the center of the crowd put his hands behind his head and strolled up nonchalantly, grabbing a steak from the bucket. Although he acted like it was no big deal, you didn’t miss the way he eyed you with a fearful gaze and skirted around you as though you might explode at any moment.
The other hyena halflings caught on and, walking around you with extreme caution, they managed to fish their meals out of the bucket. The hyena from before came back for a second steak and, not long after, for a third.
“What’s your name?” you asked him as he fished around for the best steak left in the bucket.
He stopped searching and turned his gaze on you once more. He seemed to size you up for a moment before saying something softly. “What was that?” you asked.
“Ruggie,” he said softly, his ears turning inwards and an annoyed pout making its way to his face.
“I like that name!” you said cheerily. Ruggie eyed you dubiously and finally pulled a steak from the bucket, racing back to the other hyenas. On his way, he looked over his shoulder at you, his gaze uncertain.
You felt like you had made progress.
Now it was time to feed the lions, and the thought made your feet feel like lead. You were not looking forward to a lion halfling murdering you over a steak.
A part of you wondered if some of the halflings really did prefer this life- or at least, the food. You had learned in class that halflings preferred to eat human food, although they could stomach their animal counterpart’s diet. Halflings, no doubt, preferred these still-warm cooked steaks over raw meat.
You picked up the bucket of steaks and began your journey across the faux savannah. It really was hot in the exhibit and the heavy bucket seemed to weigh you down considerably. Sweat beaded on your forehead and you found it even harder to push yourself across the distance to the lions.
When you finally arrived in front of them, you could feel yourself trembling in fear. In a shaky voice, you called out, “Who wants steaks?”
All of the lions’ eyes turned immediately to the lion halfling lounging across the rock above them. Ah, I get it. They won’t eat until he eats.
Slowly you approached him. You weren’t sure if he was awake until one green eye cracked open and lazily regarded you. You gulped and reached into the bucket, closing your hands around a steak and holding it out to him. He remained lying there, but his eye closed once more.
You began to set the steak next to him when blinding pain shot up your arm, causing you to promptly drop it on the rock. You looked down and saw that the back of your hand was bleeding from four long streaks. The king of the lions was now sitting up, glaring at you, blood dripping from the claws of his right hand.
“How dare you approach me so casually?” he snarled.
You weren’t sure what to do, so you sank into a bow, and murmured, “I’m so sorry.”
The lion gazed down at you, a mixture of surprise and amusement in his eyes. He laid back down, closing his eyes, “Whatever. The rest of you can eat.”
Lions rushed forward, clamoring around the bucket to get the best steaks. The lion on the rock did not reach for his own steak, choosing instead to go back to sleep. You were sorry you disturbed him, and not only because you were now nursing a heavily bleeding hand. The wound was surprisingly deep and you hoped that they had a first aid kit in the office.
A very small lion cub halfling with red hair bounced up to you. Your heart instantly melted at the sight of such an adorable little thing grabbing a steak and smiling up at you. So cute!
“Uncle Leona! Uncle Leona! Are you going to eat your steak or can I have it?” the little halfling asked the lion on the rock.
The lion- Leona, you guessed- glared down at the cub and snatched the steak out of the his reach with a warning growl. While the guttural sound was enough to make you shake in your boots, the cub merely giggled and took a bite of his own steak.
The bucket was empty by the time every lion had taken one. They were big steaks, but you weren’t sure it would be enough to keep them full. You headed back to the keeper’s door with sweat rolling down your cheeks. The heat and dryness may be perfect for the lions and hyenas, but you could barely stand it.
As soon as you were back in the keeper area, you made a beeline for the water cooler. You poured yourself a cup and downed it in a couple seconds. Panting, you filled your cup a second time. You sipped the water a little slower this time, feeling its cooling effects soothe you.
You headed for the nearest first aid kit, conveniently hanging on the wall near the exhibit’s exit. You had a feeling you weren’t the first to need it. You took some bandages from the case and wrapped them around your hand, hissing a little at the pain the pressure caused.
You were ready to face the wolves now. And, as you made your way into their enclosure, you noted with relief that the warm was crisp and cool- the exact opposite of the previous enclosure.
Goosebumps rose on your skin, but you knew that, by the time you had made the trip with the heavy steaks, you’d probably be sweating again. Sure enough, the labor took its toll on your body, your arm aching as you switched the bucket to your other hand.
Deep in the forest now, you could sense eyes on you. Relieved that you had finally found the wolves, you collapsed to the ground. Unprofessional, maybe, but greatly needed. You sat on the soft grass as the wolf halflings began to approach you.
A few had their lips drawn up in a snarl, and one of them called out, “Who are you? You’re not our regular keeper.”
Another wolf was quick to say, “But she’s brought food. Isn’t that all that matters?”
You raised your hands in a peaceful gesture, “I’m a researcher and I’m the one dropping off your food for this morning.”
That seemed to satisfy the wolves. Some of them still glared at you, but they all took their steaks. You looked around at the pack and was surprised to see, among all the gray hair, a head of pure white.
The wolf wasn’t glaring at you, but his expression didn’t give away how he felt at all. He seemed to be eyeing you warily, much like the hyenas. You fished out a steak and held it out to him. His eyes widened a little and he approached you.
“Thank you,” he said in a gruff voice, taking the steak from you. Before you could ask him his name, he disappeared into the crowd of wolves. You weren’t sure why your mind had picked him out from the others, except that his hair was a different color. A little embarrassed by your reaction to him, you held out a steak to another passing wolf, who growled at you in response.
As soon as the enclosure door shut behind you, you sank to the ground, exhausted. That was only the morning feeding- you had a full day (and part of the night) of studying and documenting behavior ahead of you.
607 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
