#part ii probably coming next week
Text
GENESIS: Primo x Reader
The Meeting Place. Papa catches you hiding in his garden. Slowburn, fluff now, smut later. Roughly 2.6k words!
AO3 LINK HERE
You loved your life at the abbey. You’d finally found your place in the world. However, there were a lot of chores to keep up with and, of course, many rituals to attend. Though it was forbidden, sometimes you hid when it all became too much.
Today was one of those mornings. Your fellow Sisters of Sin were all a little too loud, and you just needed to escape. As long as you didn’t get caught, no one would miss you.
You tucked your book under your arm and snuck out one of the side doors as the girls all began lining up for Mass. You were careful as you walked through the courtyards, avoiding everyone as you headed toward the gardens.
Before long, you reached the giant oak tree next to the vegetable garden and sank against it. No one usually came out this far, especially not in the morning. You finally had some time and space to yourself.
A few minutes of reading turned into a few hours. Yet the further you got into your book, the heavier your eyes grew. Around lunchtime, you decided that you could take a nap. The gardens were going to be vacant for the day, anyway.
The wind woke you up first, but the feeling of being watched caused you to look around. You froze, holding your book to your chest as your eyes finally locked with his.
Your mouth fell open as you tried to brainstorm any excuse you could. However, you stopped as the older man raised a hand.
“Do not worry, Sorella, your secret is safe with me,” Primo said with a small smile. He stared for a moment longer before looking back to the bell peppers he was beginning to harvest.
“If you are awake, though, I could use some help,” he added after a moment.
You had never spoken to any of the Papas alone besides confession. Your cheeks were burning, and your breathing felt shallow. He had scared you completely awake.
“Of course, Papa, I would be happy to,” You quickly replied, marking your book before you moved to join at his side.
It was quiet—only the sound of the breeze passed by as you both worked silently to pick the vegetables. The blush on your cheeks wouldn’t fade. You felt mortified you’d been caught by such an esteemed member of the church.
“I like to hide out here too, do not feel embarrassed,” Primo spoke after a moment, a wide grin spreading across his lips.
“I didn’t want you to think I’m a bad Satanist, Papa. It’s just so..”
“Loud?” he finished your sentence for you. Finally, you smiled and began to nod.
“Loud. I love my Sisters, but they can be a bit giddy in the morning,” You replied, letting out a quiet laugh as you rested your hands against your lap.
“Si, they can be, but I assure you they are not as loud as my brothers in the morning.”
Was Primo making a joke? You’d always assumed he’d be so severe, yet here he was teasing you. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you finally allowed yourself to look over his face.
He was more beautiful than you had realized. A dignified nose, high cheeks, sillily big ears. Were you becoming infatuated with someone nearly three times your age?
“I suppose we will have to share our hiding place then.” You offered, giving his arm a gentle nudge.
The older man laughed and looked down at you. “I suppose we will,” he said, gently reaching out to pat one of your hands. “Or maybe it can be our meeting place, si?”
You melted at the touch before focusing back on the garden. The pair of you harvested until the sun began to dip.
You weren’t sure when, but Primo began humming himself. You thought it was some sort of gospel for a while until you recognized Here Comes The Sun.
He made it sound almost melancholy, and honestly, you enjoyed it more. You found yourself humming along in harmony as you sat back, rubbing the dirt off your hands.
Primo’s eyes were soft as he looked back at you again. “Your voice is beautiful, Sorella,” he whispered, and your blush returned.
“Thank you, Papa,” you replied. “Yours is not so bad either,” you said. You both chuckled a little awkwardly.
The sun was dipping, and it was clear that neither wanted to part just yet. You opened your mouth, trying to figure out some excuse, but he was already ahead of you.
“Sorella, would you like to join me for dinner?” he asked as he slowly pushed himself up. You found yourself clamoring to get up as well, in case he needed a hand. He didn’t need it. He was surprisingly limber despite his age.
“You put in a lot of work. You may as well get a taste of it.” Primo added with a little smile, reaching a hand to your shoulder to silently thank you.
You nodded so quickly that you thought your head might pop clean off. “I would love to, Papa. I could even help you cook if you liked.” you rushed to say. You weren’t sure what about him was so striking, but you felt like a moth drawn towards the flame.
“No, it would make me much happier to cook for you, Sorella. It has been a long time since you’ve been spoiled,” he said. A glint in his eye made warmth spread through your belly.
He reached out to gently tuck some of your hair back into your habit, as his face paints made his smile look even wider.
“In the Papal wing, there’s a red door at the end of the hall. That would be my apartment. Go and clean up and meet me in an hour or so. I’ll make you a real Italian meal.” he promised.
You were pretty sure you stopped breathing. Your bobblehead began nodding again. “Thank you, Papa,” you said, bowing your head to him.
He laughed softly at the gesture as he cupped your chin to raise your head. “You don’t need to bow to me, Sorella. Go. I will see you soon.” he smiled, reaching down to grab your long-forgotten book. He gently placed it in your hands before he turned away, scooping up his basket, and headed towards the Papal end of the Abbey.
You had never run quicker as you rushed back to the dormitories. You scared your roommate half to death after you slammed the door.
“Where were you? Some of the girls noticed you skipped out today…did you get caught?” Sorella Clarton asked, putting a hand on her hip.
“I did get caught, yes. In the best way.” You laughed as you pulled off your habit and began working your dress off next.
“Shit. Are you in trouble?” she asked, following behind you to pick up your clothes and toss them into the hamper. She was used to your messiness and was obviously not shocked by the nudity.
“Big trouble,” you said with a smirk. “Papa Primo caught me.” you giggled delightfully, opening up your small closet to search for anything appropriate.
“Is he really as mean as they say?” she asked with a raised brow, confused as to why you were pulling out lingerie.
“He made me help him pick vegetables, and now he’s going to make me dinner.” You huffed as you pulled on the laciest bra you could find. It was a dark red, practically making your already pale skin glow.
After nearly tearing apart your dresser, you thankfully found the matching underwear. You quickly checked yourself out in the full-length mirror. Thankfully everything was fitting how you wanted it to.
“Are you for dinner?” The Sister asked with a soft laugh. He sighed and moved to her own dresser to find a garter that nearly matched before holding it over.
“You’d look hot in this, too,” she admitted sheepishly.
You let out a chuckle and thanked her as you pulled it on and started to roll your thigh highs up to connect them.
“So…you want to fuck Primo? He’s uh…someone you’re attracted to?” she asked, raising a brow. Honestly, sleeping with any of the Papas was seen as a privilege. Yet most Sisters set their eyes on Terzo or Secondo. The first is a bit prettier, and the latter is known for his sexual prowess.
“I don’t know!” You said defensively. “I doubt we’re going to. It’s just dinner! He’s very kind, and his hands are nice.” You continued.
“Okay, alright, I didn’t know you had a thing for ancient dudes.” She replied.
You ignored her and continued rummaging. “Yes,” you huffed victoriously as you found one of the older styles of habits in the closet.
Secondo had insisted on Sisters showing more leg, and you’d never been more thankful for that pervert. You slipped the dress on and adjusted it, so the slit perfectly showed off the garter strap.
“Shit, my hands are still covered in dirt.” You whined as you looked down at them. Your roommate laughed and tugged you to the bathroom to start helping you scrub your hands.
“I have never seen you so nervous it’s sweet,” she laughed softly, making sure to get the dirt from under your nails with a brush.
“I don’t know what’s happening…I just have butterflies. He was so sweet. I haven’t thought about a man like that in ages.” You rambled as you rinsed your hands off.
Sister Carlton had always acted like an older sibling to you. She’d babied and taken care of you since you came to the Abbey all those years ago. She seemed especially happy to be helping you get ready for tonight, even if she was judging your taste.
She started to brush your hair, though the veil would cover it. “This will help it not be static if you take it off,” she said. You watched her in the mirror with a little smile.
The hour was nearly over when she finished. You gave yourself one last once over, adjusting the veil on your head. You even added some dark red lipstick to match your underwear. This would probably be your only chance to dine with a Papa, so you figured you might as well go all out.
However, as you began heading towards the Papal Suites, you couldn’t help but feel a little ridiculous compared to the other Sisters wandering about in their modest clothing. Thankfully it didn’t seem that too many stared at you.
After searching for a few minutes, you found the red door Primo had mentioned. Outside, you could smell intoxicating hints of garlic and tomato sauce that nearly caused you to moan. There was also faint music playing in the background.
You finally reached out and began knocking, surprised at how quickly the door opened.
Primo froze as he took in your dress, his mismatched eyes studying your figure before he met your face. “Bellisima, come in, please,” he said after clearing his throat. It was obvious he was doing his best to lift his jaw off the floor.
You stilled at the sight of him as well. He usually wandered around in his Papal robes and hat. You’d never realized how long his white hair hung or what he’d look like in regular clothing.
Surprisingly lean, you mentally noted. He’d settled for a short-sleeve button-up and some trousers.
“I never realized you had so many tattoos.” You admitted with a soft laugh as you stepped in, reaching out to stroke at his arm covered in small drawings.
“Ah, si, it is nothing.” He laughed at her amazement as he led her into the kitchen and dining area once you finished examining him. “Make yourself at home, Sorella. Dinner is almost over. There is an open bottle of wine on the table.” he gestured towards it.
You had moved on from the shock of his appearance to the awe of his suite. It was tidy, with shelves upon shelves of records, books, and knick-knacks from his travels. Despite being in the same building as your dorm, this apartment felt as if it was pulled right out of a mid-century home.
“It’s so nice in here.” You finally spoke with a smile as you forced yourself to move towards the table. You were amazed you didn’t spill the wine while filling the two glasses.
“Grazie, I’ve had this apartment for many years. I try to make it as homey as possible.” Primo said with a smirk as he looked over his shoulder at you. “It makes me happy to see someone else enjoy it as much as I do,” he said as he finally began pouring the pasta and sauce from the pan onto two plates for them.
You sipped at the red wine and watched as he fussed over, making the plates look good. You couldn't understand why he was actually putting forth the effort. Maybe he felt the same pull you did.
“It smells so good, Papa. I had no idea you were a cook. You’re full of surprises, hm?” you hummed happily as you drank.
He let out a shy laugh as he carried the plates, setting them down on the table. “Well, at my age, you should at least be able to cook a pasta dish and choose a good wine, no?” he asked with a tilt of his head.
He simply couldn’t take his eyes off you, and the attention made your blush spread from your cheeks to your chest.
You couldn’t even come up with a witty response. Instead, you nodded and scooted your chair closer to him once the table was set. You waited for him to initiate before digging in. The food was good enough that the pair of you went silent again, only exchanging glances while eating.
Once you cleared your plate, you gently reached up to wipe your face. “You truly spoiled me, Papa,” you whispered with a grin, feeling the wine go to your head. It gave you enough confidence to reach out with your napkin to clean some sauce from the corner of his lip.
It was hard to tell through the paints, but you were certain he was flushing now too.
“I assure you, you are spoiling me as well, Sorella,” he whispered, reaching up to take hold of your hand to pepper soft kisses to your knuckles, then flipping it to continue to your wrist.
You leaned forward into the touch, completely intoxicated by him. “Dance with me, Papa?” you whispered, feeling his lips trail nearly to your elbow.
“Si, si. Of course. I may be rusty though, mi amore.” He warned you as he slowly stood up, still holding your hand in case you needed help.
You grinned and followed him towards the living room, where the record player continued quietly.
You leaned slightly onto your toes so that you could wrap your arms around his neck while his wrapped around your waist, pulling you in close as you both began swaying along to the music.
You swore you could feel electricity moving through your body at each touch and graze. Your eyes locked with his as your bodies pressed together, moving completely in sync without thinking about it.
It turned out he was great at leading, and you truly enjoyed being led around the living room.
You gripped tightly onto his hand as he led you in a spin before pulling you back in even closer to his chest. You could feel heat growing in your stomach and spreading to your limbs with each move.
You’d never felt this attracted to anyone, especially not upon first interaction. Yet the way he watched you and the softness of his hands made you melt right in his arms.
He nuzzled his cheek against yours, humming softly in Italian against your ear as he slowly backed you towards his bedroom.
#ghost fic#ghost fanfiction#ghost bc fanfiction#papa primo fanfic#ghost fanfic#part ii probably coming next week#mine#as you can see i worked really hard on the picture
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.
CHAPTER II - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.
Previous chapter: [x]
Word Count: 3.4k+ words (unedited).
Genre/other tags: Angst with some fluff. Jealousy. Fem pronouns used.
Warnings: Swearing. Self-deprecation. Manipulation (on Alastor's part).
It had been nearly over a week since you and Lucifer last talked – it had also been a week since Lucifer was last seen around in the hotel. Angel, being the gossiper he was, relayed everything that had transpired between you two to the others the following day. Seeing the sensitive and sad shell of a person you were left in, everyone remained cautious and had started walking on eggshells around you. Of course, you were quick to pick up on that, as embarrassing as it all was (minus Alastor, who continued on with his usual theatrics and mischief).
Charlie in particular was the most concerned out of them all, since this was her dad we were talking about. She knew with certainty that he was confining himself in the castle to distract himself from what happened – likely something involving his rubber-ducky obsession – instead of facing the problem head on. It was his pride that sometimes got in the way of his better judgement.
Not only that, but Charlie clearly saw the massive toll it took on you. If you weren’t distracting yourself with work or doing something related to the hotel, you would lock yourself away in your room, only coming out to quickly grab a bite to eat from the kitchen. Charlie even made efforts to strike many conversations with you from time to time, but was either excused or was only given one-worded responses. She knew not to take your dismissive behaviour to heart, but she couldn’t help but fret over you.
So it came as an absolute surprise when out of nowhere, Charlie received a call from her father. She messily scrambled for her phone on her desk, fumbling and nearly dropping it in the process before violently tapping on the small screen. “H-Hello?! Dad, hey!” She answers a bit too enthusiastically while nervously combing her hair with a free hand. “Uh, hey Charlie!” Lucifer stiffly greets from the other line, “I just…um, thought I’d give a call to, uh, see how everyone’s going at the hotel!” The Princess noted how much hoarser his voice was than usual, but decided not to comment on it aloud.
“Well, y’know how it is! It’s been busy and lively as always–everyone’s been working really hard and all,” she answers vaguely, nervously chuckling. “Err, yeah! Right. That’s a–that’s a relief to hear. Yep,” he hums. There was a brief, awkward pause that ensued soon after, the both of them not knowing what to say next. The whole exchange was becoming increasingly painful that Charlie resisted the urge to pull her hair. She then clears her throat. “H-How about you, dad? What’ve you been up to? You’ve been gone for a couple or so days,” Charlie finally musters, “are…are you doing alright?”
“Me? Oh yeah, psh! I just got, erm…a lot of things going on at the moment. It’s not so easy being the big boss of hell after all! Got a lot of important things to do! Plus, I’ve got heaps of paperwork to do for the hotel. You should know how tedious that is,” He says, adding an exaggerated groan.
The princess furrows her brows. “Oh, that’s…strange. ’Cause I could’ve sworn you left all the papers here…y’know, the ones you told me to revise over?” Charlie replies, side-eyeing the said documents stacked neatly on her desk. A startled yelp escapes his throat. “O-Oh...did I?” He stammers.
Charlie couldn’t help but wince at the evident panic that began to set in as she listened to her father make incomprehensible noises from the other line. It was a poor attempt in reasoning, which ultimately became useless in the end. Lucifer let out a long sigh, caught red-handed. “Oh, who the hell am I kidding? You guys probably already know what happened–which by the way, Charlie, you shouldn’t be lying to me about!” He pointedly remarks.
“I-I’m sorry, dad! It’s just…I’m really worried about you,” she reasons, before shortly adding, “...The both of you.”
There was a small pause. “...How is she, by the way?” He then asks quietly. Charlie nervously tugs her bottom lip with her fangs. “Well, she’s keeping herself busy. Constantly, as a matter of fact. And I know she’s trying hard to convince us all that she’s holding up okay, but…she doesn’t look too good, dad. She seems really upset.”
A shaky exhale sounded from his end. “I…I really am hopeless, aren’t I?” He mumbles defeatedly. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could picture him burying his face in his hands. The image caused Charlie’s eyes to soften. “Dad, no. It’s not too late. You still have a chance to make things right,” Charlie gently encourages through the speaker, “you just need to talk to each other–”
Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, a bright, blazing portal manifests from thin air – from it, emerges Lucifer himself who appeared extremely dishevelled, effectively catching Charlie off guard.
“But, hun, y-you don’t understand! I messed up big time!” He exclaims, tugging on his unkempt hair as he aimlessly paced around her office. “I-I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking mess and a coward! Why would she ever think to take me back after what I did!?” He chuckles humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “I-It’s like no matter how many times I try to redeem and convince myself that everything’s finally going right in my life, I just continue to fuck myself over and over again. And it’s just– ugh! It’s pathetic! I’m fucking pathetic!”
Charlie’s chest tightened considerably as she watched her father self-destruct before her. Strands of his golden hair were sticking out here and there, his dress-shirt tousled, and his eyes were glossed over and red, from both a lack of sleep and crying. He looked utterly devastated. Chucking her phone away, she immediately sped towards and enveloped Lucifer in her arms, who immediately broke down into heavy sobs. Seeing him like this brought tears to her own eyes, but she firmly told herself to be the stronger person in this situation, for his sake.
“Hey, hey. Dad, listen to me, okay? Everyone deserves a second chance. You of all people should know–you were the one who taught me that, remember?” Charlie rubbed his back soothingly, trying to ease the jumpiness of his shoulders. “And that also applies to you. I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with mum…” She couldn’t help the way her frown deepened as she spoke, “...and I miss her too. I miss her a lot. But…I think it’s finally time for you to move on. It’s been years, dad. You deserve to be happy and you’re allowed to be in love again.”
“[Name]’s an amazing person, and there’s no doubt about that. She’s proved that more than many times already. I’m certain that once things ease over and you guys finally talk things through, everything will turn out okay; she’s very understanding and kind like that. You’ll both be okay.” Charlie gently pulls Lucifer away and with the sleeve of her blazer, she wipes his damp, reddened cheeks. “I know for a fact that she loves and cares about you deeply – we can all see it as clear as day. You…you love her too, don’t you, dad?”
For a brief moment’s contemplation, Lucifer suddenly recalled the times you spent together, from your initial meeting to now. He had always thought you were a strong and independent soul, with the way you carried yourself. You just had something about you that naturally drew in those around you, including himself. When Lucifer got to know you in a deeper level, he was enthralled by how kind and understanding you were – you were always there to listen to his many tales and endless nonsense; you would always seem genuinely interested in his rubber-duck-esque inventions, offering some input and critiquing his creations; and you would always be so, so supportive of all his plans and ideas, no matter how extraordinary they all seemed.
If he hadn't known any better, Lucifer would've thought you were an actual angel. You were the saviour that wore off the darkness in troubling times, and the one who pulled him out of the void that Lilith had left him in. That and more, as you continuously gave him a real reason to remain hopeful. You were proof personified, that he was able to open his heart once more, and to love again.
“I-I do, I really do,” Lucifer affirms in a heartbeat. Charlie smiles warmly, relieved by his answer, “then that’s all you need to say.” At that moment, Lucifer's chest swelled in overwhelming pride for his daughter, knowing that despite not being as present in her life until recently, she grew up to be the good and strong-willed person he had hoped for.
“O-Oh, jeez. Since when did you grow up so big? I should be the one comforting you,” He tearfully jokes, sniffling whilst returning her smile, “but thank you, Charlie. Really. I’m…I-I really am grateful to call you my daughter.” The two royalties then shared a heart-felt moment and a bone-crushing hug, with the King's heart being filled with a new-found determination. Because, just as he always says: The show must go on.
Earlier on:
On the other side of the building, you were drowning yourself in your own self-despair as you overlooked the balcony by the front entrance of the hotel. Your eyes lazily scanned the new hotel patrons below, who were engaging in some trust exercises led by Vaggie, who came in to cover you just moments ago. Every once in a while, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone, silently hoping to receive some sort of notification from Lucifer, or even an inkling of his whereabouts. But you received nothing, which only fuelled your growing anxiety.
You felt awful leaving the way you did that night, especially after dumping so much onto Lucifer. You felt like you were being completely selfish, and had cornered him into making a big decision. And because of that, your relationship was on the line. You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing angrily at your face.
Little did you know however, that you had some company lurking nearby, watching you in silent amusement.
“Now, don’t you look as miserable as ever?” Alastor mockingly chimes in, stepping out from the shadows to make his presence known and joins you by the balcony. You roll your eyes at the deer-demon before turning your head the other direction. “Yeah, and what about it?” You scoff, leaning in to rest your arms against the rails, “Can’t you go bother someone else, Alastor? I’m certainly not in the mood right now.”
“Why, I wouldn’t be a good hotelier if I left a dear co-worker of mine so down in the slumps!” To your dismay, Alastor reappears in front of you, obstructing your field of view, "And might I add, it's not healthy for you to be all cooped up in your room all the time – stay there any longer, and it can do silly, little things to your head!" He emphasises his point as he spins a finger in a circular motion by his temple. You shot him an irritated look, slowly growing fed up by his prodding.
"Listen, I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I’m more than capable of deciding that on my own,” you growl, straightening up to cross your arms firmly against your chest. “Hm...no, I don’t think so!” Alastor hums, shaking his head disapprovingly, “The unfortunate affair that took place in your courtship with the King has left you in such a vulnerable, and problematic state. And I’m sure you’ve taken note of how everyone’s been acting around you – constantly walking on their tiptoes in fear of setting you off on a hissy-fit. You’ve caused them to worry a lot about you, dear. Poor ol’ Charlie, especially.”
You open your mouth to retort back, but nothing came out. A strong pang of guilt struck you as his words began to sink in. Seeing this, Alastor’s grin widened a faction as he stepped forward and levelled himself with you, now facing you eye-to-eye. “And as the executive producer of this fine establishment, might I critique that your behaviour is affecting our team’s morale and performance…and we mustn’t have that now, should we? Especially not since we’ve all been more preoccupied recently with our guests!” He…had a fair point, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.
“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…know…” Your voice began to trail off, shoulders slumping in realisation of how selfish and contemptuous you’ve been acting this whole week. You recalled the fretful expressions of your friends and your dismissive attitude towards them. “I-I didn’t mean to make everyone worry…” you quietly say. Alastor’s words only made you feel immensely worse about the whole situation, leaving you sniffling on the spot.
“Now, now. As long as you realise your mistakes, then you shall be forgiven,” he coos, softly patting the tuft of your head. At that, you couldn’t help but send a doubtful glance his way. “W-wait a minute…why do you care all of a sudden? What exactly are you playing at?” You suspiciously question as you rub at your eyes.
“Oh, how you wound me, dear! Why must you always question any act of kindness I display? Is it really that hard to believe?” He adverts, evidently feigning hurt. You deadpan. “Yes, it is,” you reply almost instantly. Alastor chortles at your bluntness, “Haha! You’re quite a work of art, aren't you, dear? Now, let’s go out for a walk, shall we?”
Before you could’ve processed what he had said, Alastor had already spun you around, pulling you with him as you both headed down a flight of stairs. “Wha–Alastor, where are we–where the heck are you taking me?” You asked, trying to keep up with his long strides so as to not trip down the stairs. “Hm? Did I not already specify? It looks like your brooding has impacted your hearing, dear. That’s a shame,” he slyly comments, now dragging you towards the entrance, “We’re both going for a walk around town, it’ll help clear that cloudy head of yours!”
“Hold on-Stop! Just what makes you think I’d agree to go out with you?” You shoot back, retracting your arm from his hold and stopping metres behind him. Alastor sharply turns around and pulls out a wrinkled, yellow piece of paper out of thin air. Your eyes dart towards the sheet, seeing a familiar hand-writing across the page.
“Why, I just knew you were going to question me – you're so predictable. But might I add, we’re not going out without purpose! No, no! Our lovely Charlie has composed a list and requested we fetch a couple items in town!” Stepping forward, you swiftly snatched the paper from his clawed hand and briefly scanned the list, noting that it largely consisted of decorations and party items. “She wanted to organise a heart-warming celebration for the wayward souls here who have accomplished some milestones on their journey to redemption! An anniversary ceremony of sorts, if you will,” Alastor explains, lightly patting the non-existing dust off of his suit.
“But couldn’t you just…I don’t know, teleport the things here?” You blatantly ask, raising a brow at him. You knew he was more than capable of doing such minuscule tasks within a span of seconds. “And waste such a beautiful day outside? Now, why would I even consider doing that?” Alastor states matter-of-factly, “And like I said, the short trip will help clear your troubled mind! Consider it a gesture of compassion from yours truly.”
There was clearly something off about all this but you couldn’t see any reason for an ulterior motive. It was just…simply a manager looking out for the well-being of his work-colleagues, as uncharacteristic and off-putting as it sounded out loud. Already exhausted, you couldn’t bring it in yourself to question his actions any further.
“You’re really not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?” You ask. Seeing the way Alastor’s grin widened had you sighing in defeat. “Shall we then?” Alastor questions, offering an arm out to you. Rolling your eyes, you loop one of your arms through and follow him out the hotel. ‘A small walk wouldn’t hurt…’ you think to yourself as the doors shut behind you.
Currently:
Lucifer tiredly dragged himself to his designated room in the hotel, to rest for a while and take a much needed bath as per Charlie’s advice. He gave himself a lengthy pep-talk in front of the mirror as he brushed his teeth, deciding to approach you tonight to finally talk and clear things out. Yes, he was absolutely terrified about the possibility of things going south during the confrontation, but he didn’t think he could handle another second being without you. And he needed to make that loud and clear.
After putting on an outfit and neatly slicking his hair back, Lucifer looked at his reflection once more in the bedside mirror, inspecting himself up and down to flatten any remaining creases of his clothing. But it wasn't until his gaze landed on his left hand that he tensed up. Peering down, he brought his hand into view to inspect the very wedding band that caused it all. With a shaky sigh, Lucifer slowly pulled the ring off of his finger. He took a moment to examine it, eyes filled with sentiment before kneeling down to open his bedside drawer, where its designated ring-box sat. The moment he encased the ring in its box and locked it away in his drawer, it felt like a breath of fresh air. To his own surprise, Lucifer found himself tearfully laughing – he felt...genuinely happy. Proud, even. It was at this very moment that he felt like he was finally ready to move forward.
After patting the stray tears away from his face, Lucifer slowly made his way down to the front lobby. There, Charlie and Vaggie were talking amongst themselves by the lounge area, whilst Angel and Cherri chuckled away by the bar, with Husk tending to their beverages. The King didn’t give an inkling of care as to where Alastor had gone, and he was certain that Nifty was hiding somewhere in the small crevices of the hotel, cleaning away. All in all, there was no sight of you whatsoever, visibly disappointing him.
Seeing his approaching form, Charlie waved his father over towards them. “Hey, dad. Are you feeling a bit better now?” She asks with a comforting smile. “Yeah, totally. Thanks, dear,” he says, patting her shoulder affectionately before turning his attention towards her partner. “Hey! How’s it going, Maggie? I’ve heard you’ve been working real hard lately, huh? Good on yah!” He commends, playfully nudging the said demon. “Oh, um…it’s–it’s Vaggie, sir. And uh, thanks,” she nervously chuckles, rubbing her arm. “Mhm, yeah…that’s–that’s great,” Lucifer distractedly hums, all the while scanning around the room. Noticing this, Vaggie shared a worried look with Charlie.
“Erm, dad, she’s not here at the moment if that’s what you’re wondering,” Charlie starts, alerting her father. “Oh? Well, is she up in one of the guest rooms?” Lucifer asked, gesturing upstairs with a thumb. To his confusion, Charlie appeared somewhat nervous, her hands fidgeting with her suit. “Uh, no, she’s actually not in the hotel at the moment,” Vaggie steps in, “she’s been out doing a couple of errands for us.” Lucifer raised a brow at the slight edginess in her tone, eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. “...Um, alright. What the heck is going on right now?" He asks, pointing an accusatory finger at them both, "You guys are acting sketchy as fuck. Are you...are you guys hiding something from me?" He narrows his eyes. Charlie sucks in a breath, brows pinching together, “Well...dad, t-the thing is–”
“She’s out with Smiles right now!” Angel suddenly intervened, calling out from the other side of the room, and causing Charlie to cower and duck behind Vaggie. Lucifer felt his shoulders grow rigid. “She’s…what now?” He dangerously asks, glaring at the arachnid. Before Lucifer trudged towards the direction of the bar, the front doors of the hotel abruptly flew open. He felt the vein in his neck nearly burst at the sound of your laughter interlacing itself with that god-awful, irritating radio feedback. What a wild coincidence.
As Lucifer turned around, his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he saw how close you were with Alastor, arms basically locked together. The radio-demon was quick to meet eyes with the King, and out of spite, Alastor flashed him the biggest shit-eating grin he's ever seen.
“Oh, fuck no!”
Chapter III - Finale [x]
Thank you for reading!
#lucifer magne x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer magne#lucifer morningstar
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞
part one - part ii
➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.
➪ Everything seems to be going right and life seems amazing, at least to the others..not for you.
➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando
➪ this came to me as I was running a high fever, stop judging me..i also needed a charles fic here, No lando in this one yet, Charles ain't a real good partner and google translate is my bestest friend
➽────────────────────────❥
charlesgirlies
liked by 456 others
charlesgirlies Charles and Zoë in y/n's story today 🥰
view all 189 comment
cahlossainz oh
chilisainz oh my god I'm dead 😭
↳ bott_ass bestie same
charles16 she needs to keep feeding us dad Charles please!!
leclerc_16 volunteering to be his baby mama
lanlan Zoë is just the cutest little bean 🥰
↳ charlesgirlies she is! 🥰
lanlan lil cutie like her mom :)
charlesgirlies and her dad!
charloslesainz y/n living my dream life 😭
landoscar I just know zoë has Charles wrapped around her finger
yukisan didn't know y/n and charles were together let alone have a kid 😂
↳ clsixteen have you been living under a rock? It was a big scandal when they were seen together 5 years ago?? 😭
yukisan I'm new so i dont have all the lore, just thought they were friends because they both come from Monaco 😅
leckerkcharles y/n the predator and her victims
mrsleclerc love that there's still people in the comments being mad about them dating 💀
↳ carlandooo for real it's been 5 years people and charles is not little sauber Charles anymore 🤡
charlesgirlies people be acting like y/n is 40 years older than charles
➽────────────────────────❥
y/nusername
📍 Sicily, italy
liked by charles_leclerc, noellepicard and 369,989 others
y/nusername babes big day out 🏖
tagged: noellepicard, manon_roux
view all 1,111 comments
noellepicard she's a little mermaid 🧜🏻♀️
charlesssss I can't, she's the cutest 😭
charles_leclerc princesse ❤️
↳ charloslesainz stop it, he's such a girl dad imma throw up
hamilt44n man is made to be a dad honestly
manon_roux lucky to have the prettiest girls in the world with me 🥰
↳ joris__trouche je n'ai pas reçu mon invitation? (i didn't get my invite)
y/nusername probablement parce que je n'en ai pas envoyé :) (probably because i didn't send one)
joris__trouche comportement inacceptable (unacceptable behaviour)
charles_leclerc Joris est une des filles maintenant 😂 (joris is one of the girls now)
y/nusername Je devrais lui acheter une mini-jupe et des talons hauts pour nos prochaines vacances :') (should buy him a mini skirt and some high heels for our next vacation)
manon_roux j'aimerais voir cela se produire 🤣 (i'd love to see that happen)
joris__trouche j'aurais l'air sexy et tu ne peux pas le nier (i'd look sexy and you can't deny it)
sharl16 no idea what they're saying but I agree 😭
landoscar her little feeties 🥺
leclerc_16 am I the only one who finds it strange that they haven't been together this summer break?
↳ carlosleclerc they were bestie, they spend time together with friends in Monaco last week..they're both on their girls and boys vacation..pretty normal
leclerc_16 oh I've missed that part..still something feels off
carlosleclerc I mean y/n gave birth to their daughter not that long ago and its probably not the best idea to fly with a new born/baby all around the world. I'm sure they're fine..
leclerc_16 mmm you're probably right, would hate to see them split up though
➽────────────────────────❥
➽────────────────────────❥
y/nusername posted to their story
➽────────────────────────❥
➽────────────────────────❥
y/nusername
📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco
liked by arthur_leclerc, pierregasly and 327,888 others
y/nusername juste toi et moi à l'infini, petite fille 💗 (just you and me to infinity, little girl.)
view all 1,222 comments
noellepicard 😍
yourmumsuser mes anges ❤️ (my angels)
charloslesainz 'just you and me' doesn't sit right with me lmfao
↳ thurthur my god it's just a caption 💀
landoscar for real they're always reaching for things
thurthur they always trying to start shit and it's getting annoying and repetitive
clsixteen never seen such a cute kid 🥰
francisca.cgomes need to meet her soon!
↳ y/nusername your always welcome!
bananaclerc cutest little bunny 🐰
manon_roux mon lapinou ❤️ (my bunny)
joris__trouche mon petit monstre ❤️ (my little monster)
↳ hamilt44n stop this kid is so loved 😭
sainzleclerc feeding the delulu fans with that caption
↳ charlesgirlies it's literally just a damn caption!!!
sainzleclerc I know but the crazy charles girlies haven't seen them together in a while and don't forget Charles hasn't mentioned zoë in a while.. things add up in their heads 🤡
charles_leclerc mes princesses ❤️
↳ y/nusername 🥰
➽────────────────────────❥
➽────────────────────────❥
➽────────────────────────❥
y/nusername posted to their story
➽────────────────────────❥
➽────────────────────────❥
Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728
Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2
let me know if you want to be taken off the taglist
#charles leclerc x reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc#lando norris#lando x reader#charles x reader#f1 x reader#f1 x you#charles leclerc fanfic#lando norris fanfic
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Until We Found You
Hello! This is my first time ever posting onto here, so please excuse any mistakes or any tags that may be missing. I wanted to write about a poly!ghostface au and age up all the characters and place them into college. I hope this gets at least a few reads!
Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX
Context: Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+
You bit down on the tip of your pencil, chewing the metal part of it as you spaced out for the hundredth time today. A few days ago news broke of one of your best friends being killed, Casey Becker, and like every day since that fateful night, news reporters were swarming the campus. Woodsboro University was famous overnight for it, a crazed killer on the loose in the town and no one knew why Casey and her boyfriend Steve were the victims. What made it truly unnerving was that no one knew if they were going to be the only ones.
It didn’t make you scared, not really at least, you were more intrigued than worried if you were going to be the next person to get a mysterious phone call. No, you spent the next morning with Randy and learned all about what happened. How Steve was found bound to the chair, duct tape and blood practically branded onto him, and how the Beckers found Casey. She was one of your best friends, you couldn’t deny you felt like you needed some therapy for not crying for more than maybe an hour over her, but something in you was more interested in who did it.
That was what was on your mind for the hundredth time today, any of Casey’s boyfriends all the way to fucking pre-k could be a suspect, maybe her family, or maybe it was some random stranger who decided to take their anger out on an unsuspecting teenage girl. Randy and you talked all first period about your suspicions on who it could be, even accusing each other of being the killer, it did fit after all, the two horror buffs who knew every goddamn easter egg in every horror movie there was, it seemed perfect.
“Sidney, can you please tell your friend the answer to at least make it seem like she was listening?” Ms. Crane asked, Sidney nudging you and whispering the answer as the class laughed. “ah, um, phosphorus gas.” You answered, looking at Sidney with wide eyes after you answered. “Phosphine, but I will take that. You guys can pack up, let me take role before you all leave.” Ms. Crane said with a sigh.
“What’s up with you? Are you totally sure you don’t want to go to the grief counselor after school? I mean even Tate went-“ “Sid, I’m fine, seriously. I just, it’s freaky is all. I mean not knowing who did it? What if they have a thing for college chicks, I think we fit into that category very well and-“ “And we will be fine, it was probably just a one-time thing…I mean it's more likely that it is, right?” Sidney asked as she packed her bag, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, if you want you can stay at my place for the week, my dad’s on a trip and I would kinda enjoy the company,” she offered, smiling at you reassuringly. You gave a nod, “yeah, let me just at least spend tonight at my place, my mom will kill me if I miss dinner tonight and take off for a week out of the blue.” “Are you sure you’re really 19 and not 9?” Sidney asked jokingly, earning a laugh from you.
After dinner you had taken a shower, your parents had gone out for the night to take a late-night date- which you theorized was them renting a motel to not risk traumatizing you. You brushed out your hair as you sat down on your vanity chair, putting it into a braid before you went to bed. Your cat was sitting peacefully on your bed, moving every now and then to change her position before darting out of your room. “Irena!” You called after her, scoffing when she didn’t come back to the room. You put your hairbrush down onto your vanity, taking a look in the mirror before getting up from your seat. “I hope you don’t think you are eating even more food, missy, you got fed so much while I was at class today,” you said, acting as if Irena could really understand you. You made your way to your door, nearly walking out before noticing a paper had fallen onto the ground near your desk. You picked it up, reading the headline, Casey Becker and Steve Orth- funerals to be held on Friday the 27th at 9-11 AM. You sighed and set it down on the other papers stacked on your desk.
You walked out of your room, heading downstairs “Irena! Come on, I wanna go to bed,” you whined out, calling the cat to your room. You found her in the living room, hiding under the couch and refusing to come to you. “Fine, I’ll leave you a blanket out and don’t you dare come scratching at my door at 3 AM,” you told her, going to the hallway closet to get a blanket out for her. Once you had gotten one, you spread it out across the couch for her and said goodnight.
You were about halfway to your room when your phone began to buzz, digging it out of your pocket and seeing your mom's number you quickly answered. “Hey, what's up? You guys heading back already,” You asked, continuing up to your room.
“Heading back? Who said I ever left?” A strange voice asked on the other line, making you pause for a moment as you moved to make sure it was your mom. “Listen asshole, I don’t have more than 15 dollars in my bank account so have fun with whatever hot cheetos and mountain dew you can get with that,” you said before hanging up on them, putting your phone back into your pocket. You were up the stairs now, deciding to use the bathroom before you went to bed for the night but before you could open the door your phone rang again. “Didn’t I already say I don’t have money? What the fuck do you want?” You asked angrily, “Irena, right? Like Irena Dubrovna? Who did you prefer, Simone or Natassja?” The same voice asked you, making you look down the stairs. Irena hadn’t moved yet and no one was around her, or at least from what you could see. “If you hurt my fucking cat I will personally cut off your balls and feed them to he-“ A laugh from the caller cut you off, “I don’t have fun with animals. I’m not Bundy or Dahmer, I like to see my victims, human victims…struggle.” You heard your parent's bedroom door open, letting out a scream before running into your room and slamming the door shut, locking it quickly before the person began to bang on it. You looked around, going to your window and trying to lift it open.
The door cracked, it was like the scene from the shining, except this killer bore a white mask, you recognized it from the Halloween store- father death. You struggled with the window again, before giving up and grabbing the lamp from your bedside table and throwing it at them. The killer moved out of the way before they were hit, pushing their body against the door once more and climbing in through the opening. You could see them fiddle with their knife as if they had held it in their hands a hundred times already and were skilled at fidgeting with it.
You grabbed a glass organizer from your desk, taking the scissors from it before chucking the holder at them. The papers you had stacked before scattered from the throw as they fell down. You rushed to the window as they struggled to get up but never heard them stand. When your head whipped around to check if they were behind you, you instead saw them looking at the papers around them.
Masked killer, Casey and Steve headlines, Maureen Prescott, Cotton Weary trials, even the cutouts you had of Sidney from court. You were obsessed. There were drawings, suspects lists, hell all these needed were red kiss marks and ‘please fuck me mr ghostface!’ written in pink glitter pen ink.
You stared wide-eyed at them when you saw their gaze now on you, their head cocked to the side as a laugh sounded from behind the mask. Just then you heard the sound of gravel being crushed around from the driveway, your parent's car was pulling in, you saw them getting out from your window. When you turned back you noticed the person was gone, you ran downstairs and met your parents at the door, crying and beginning to blubber on about what nearly happened.
#poly!ghostface#poly!ghostface x reader#billy loomis#stu macher#scream au#poly!ghostface x female reader#billy loomis x reader#stu macher x reader#scream x reader#scream
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
✧˖°.☪︎.𖥔 ݁✧:･. rapid eye movement (part ii)
summary: you meet ellie in a dream…or was it at a café now?
cw: nothing, just fluff (repost from old account), you can read part 1 here
BEFORE YOU READ!!!:
FUNDRAISER MASTERPOST BOYCOTT TLOU DAILY CLICK
"Excuse me, um, I love you"
I know that's not the way to start a conversation
It had been two days since you had seen Ellie. This time she wasn’t accompanied by the yellowish hue and warm ambience of your R.E.M. state, you had actually seen her.
The girl that was driving you crazy was actually flesh and bones, rather than just a lulling mirage, and she had been kind enough to give you the notebook you’d forgotten at your favorite café.
There was no other way to describe it besides bizarre.
You couldn’t even thank her properly, staring at her for what was probably too long with widened eyes. She even asked a concerned “Are you okay?”. And no, you definitely weren’t.
Did she not know who you were? Did she forget about your strolls and your hugs and your deep talks? Had she ever dreamt of you? Was it even possible that it was all true? Or had you maybe seen her before and your brain took her face and made up an entire person?
How are you supposed to explain to a total stranger you’ve dreamt of her and fallen for her in said dreams?
The hair, the face, the tattoo, all of it was the same. Would she be the same, though? Was she an astrophysics major? Did she like the color green and NASA and also laughed at silly puns?
It was like your brain was nothing but a bunch of questions with no answer. None rational, at least.
But there she was. Right in front of you with that mesmerizing aura of hers that made you feel so drawn to her…regardless of the realm you were in. You weren’t one to ask people out. You’d usually wait for them to ask you or flirt with them until they took a hint. But there was no way you could let her go just like that. You couldn’t really tell her you knew her either, but you could just ask for her phone number, right?
And so you did. She smiled and agreed. In her mind, she was happy about the fact that giving you your notebook back had landed her a possible date with such a pretty girl.
Two days. You hadn’t texted her. You didn’t dare. What if she wasn’t like your Ellie? What if for some fucked up reason you dreamt of someone so special but she turned out to be nothing like that? What if the connection wasn’t there? What if she wasn’t sweet and caring and funny and trustworthy?
But it had been enough. Enough questions and enough overthinking. There was no way for you to know if you didn’t text her.
“Hi, it’s the girl whose notebook you saved :)”
“Hey, didn’t think you’d text anymore”
“Oh no! I’m sorry. I just got a little caught up with school”
“I wanted to see if you’d like to hangout sometime?”
“I’d really like that. Is friday cool?”
“Friday’s great <3”
“Okay, I’ll pick you up, yeah?”
“Oh you don’t have to dw”
“No, it’s okay, I want to”
“Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking on her own”
You sighed in relief. At least you were done with that part.
Flirty…At least that checks out with your Ellie.
You spent the rest of your week both dreading and anticipating your date on Friday. And, god, were you a mess.
You couldn’t remember ever being so nervous about meeting someone. You spent the next couple days overthinking your outfit choices, how you should do your hair, what you were going to say. More than anything, the thought of this Ellie not being at least a little like your Ellie was nothing short of terrifying. You adored this girl. Her not being real was one thing, but her being real and being the complete opposite was a nightmare.
At 6:36pm your bell rang.
“Coming!” You yelled as you finished putting on your shoe and took one last look in the mirror.
“You got this,” you told yourself. Though the shaking of your hands was slightly contradictory.
You finally opened the door and there she was. She was wearing jeans and an open button-up with the half-up hairdo you liked so much. You can’t help but discreetly pinch yourself just to make sure you weren’t asleep.
“Hi.” You greet her with a smile.
“Hey, you look great.”
“Thank you, you look great too.” She´s smirking now, probably noticing how nervous you were. Well, at least now you knew she was cocky too. “You ready?”
The ride to the restaurant was filled with small talk. You were too nervous to ask her any of the questions you actually needed to ask. You thought to yourself you’d leave them for the restaurant. Having warmed up a little more with each other.
One thing about Ellie, she knew how to treat a girl. She opened the door for you, helped you fasten your seatbelt, let you play your own music on the way there. She was so…well, dreamy.
As you both wait for your food you finally gather the courage to ask. In reality, they were all very basic questions. Not to you, though.
“So, Ellie..”
She hums.
“Are you in college?”
“Yeah, Astrophysics”. Oh, fuck.
“Astrophysics?” Your eyes widen.
“Yeah,” she chuckles, “have always been into all things space.”
You can’t quite believe this is real and not some sort of sick cosmic joke. You try your best to hide your shock. It’s not really a good look for you to audibly gasp every time she says or does something that further proves she’s actually Ellie.
“Oh really? You must be really smart, then.�� You tease with a smile.
“Shut up.” She laughs. “Are you in college?”
“Yes, English Literature. Almost done.”
“Really? Suits you.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Good, of course.”
If this whole thing was bizarre, this moment was just ridiculous. Every other déjà vu was nothing compared to this. It was your Ellie, from the looks down to the way she worded her thoughts.
The rest of your date went great. You learned she indeed was twenty two and liked NASA and comics. She talked the same and she laughed at the same things. She had the same mannerisms: pouts her lips, she fidgets with her hands, smirks a whole lot and oh! such a flirt.
One thing, though - nothing hinted at the fact that she remembered you. You knew most of the things she told you about herself today, not that you minded, but she was actually meeting you for the first time. How could she not remember? Did she even have the same dreams?
You still had many questions, but you were also very relieved. She was Ellie. Your Ellie. Your auburnette with a space obsession and a liking for silly puns. Your funny and sweet friend. Your favorite girl.
She took you back home and walked you to your door. You spin on your heel to face her.
Loose strand of her framing her face, glimmery green eyes staring at you and an eyebrow scar that’s surprisingly attractive on her. Like straight up from your subconscious mind, now right in front of you.
“Can I see you again?” You can tell she’s the nervous one now, not that she lets you see it. You just know her too well.
You smile at her. You thought it was obvious.
“Of course.” You inch closer towards her and press a kiss on her cheek. “Call me, yeah?”
She blushes at this. Trying too hard to contain the huge grin on her lips.
“I will.”
“Goodbye, Ellie.”
The next few days went well. Ellie and you kept texting back and forth, getting to know each other more. You did find out new things about her. About her past, her friendships, her family.
You found yourself constantly checking your phone for her texts. Eagerly waiting for the notification on your screen with her name attached to it. Not that she ever made you wait long, you pretty much had all her attention. You’d smile every time she’d make a dumb joke or she’d call you a sweet name. When you thought you couldn’t love this girl more…
-
The sun was starting to set. Pink and purple clouds painting the sky. The weather was getting warmer and you didn’t have to carry an obnoxiously big jacket with you anymore. You’d had classes all day, finally ready to unwind and peacefully enjoy your Friday night. Or so you thought.
Your phone starts ringing and it’s none other than the girl who's responsible for your stomach doing somersaults. You quickly drag the phone icon to the right and press the device to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey, pretty, Are you busy?”
“Nope, just walking home. Had a bunch of classes all day.”
“Are you doing anything later?”
“Ellie Williams, are you trying to ask me out on a date?” You jokingly gasp and earn a laugh from her end.
“Yes, actually. The sky’s supposed to be like super clear tonight and I know a spot where you can really see all the stars and stuff.”
“I’m in.”
“Yeah? I’ll pick you up in an hour. Sounds good?”
“Sounds great. Bye, Ellie.”
“See you in an hour.”
You scurried to your apartment to get ready. You did your hair, changed your clothes, sprayed a sweet vanilla perfume on your pulsing points and quickly touched up your makeup. An hour and eleven minutes later, your bell rang.
This time she was wearing a hoodie with a light jacket on top, her staple jeans and jacket combo. Her hair was up in a low bun. She was such a sight for sore eyes.
“How do you even know this place?” You ask as you both get out of the car. It was higher than the rest of the city, not quite at the top of the mountains but it still had a rather breath-taking view. Pretty quiet yet comforting. A safe haven just for the two of you, at least for tonight.
“Well…” Ellie scrunches her nose.
“What?”
“Kind of found it by accident once, with my ex.” She nervously scratches the back of her neck.
“Are you serious?” You laugh.
“It was just once!”
“So you bring all your girls here?”
“Just the special ones.”
“Shut up, dork.” You playfully roll your eyes at her and nudge her arm.
You both settle the blanket on the grass. Lying next to each other. Propped heads rested on your respective hands.
“So..ex, huh?”
“Yeah, we broke up a little bit over a year ago.”
“What was her name?”
“Cat.” You hum. “She’s great, we just didn’t really work as a couple.”
“Are you guys still friends?”
“We are on good terms. Talk every now and then. I wouldn’t call it ‘friends’, though.”
“I’m not really supposed to talk about exes until like the fifth date, you know?” She jokes.
“You brought her up!” You laugh.
“Yeah, you are right. Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Ellie couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Yes, this was your second date but it felt like it wasn’t. She felt as if she had known you her whole life. Something about talking to you and spending time with you felt just right. More than right. You brought a sense of comfort to her. She was in awe of you.
You both rest your heads and look up at the sky. Ellie was right, it was very clear tonight, you couldn’t recall the last time you had seen so many stars.
“Look, you see that one? The one that looks like a W.”
“Wait, where?”
“Right..” she grabs your index finger and points it towards it, “there.”
“Oh I see it!”
“That’s Cassiopeia.” She explains not letting go of your hand, despite you having already spotted the cluster of stars. “It’s the 25th largest constellation in the night sky.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, and the first to list it was Ptolomy in the second century…” Ellie went on and on about nebulas and exoplanets. It’s not that you didn’t care, it just so happened that the constellations lined up by her freckles were a whole lot more interesting than the ones drawn in the navy blue sky. “I probably sound like such a nerd right now.” She laughed.
“What? No, not at all. It’s cute how excited you get.” You keep on playing with her hand. Locking and unlocking your fingers, twisting them against each other’s, featherly brushes against her knuckles and the soft scraping of your nails against her skin.
“Is it?” She could feel her heart speed up, so much so that it felt like it was trying to break her ribs and find its way to you. You were no better.
“Mhm, you are very smart. I love hearing you talk.”
She smirked. Of course she did. No matter how nervous or excited she was, she wasn’t Ellie without that tinge of cockiness never leaving her side.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Yes.” You breathed out.
She hovered over you, grabbing your chin to pull you closer to her. She brushed her lips against yours, almost kissing you. Breaths perfectly sync as you feel the air fanning against each other’s mouth. There was no way in hell you could wait one more second, you break first. You crashed your lips into hers.
You had never kissed Ellie, not even in your dreams. You had thought about it many times, but even your imagination’s best efforts couldn’t compare to this.
It was exhilarating, the feeling of her lips rhythmically moving with yours. It just made sense, you two fit. You had kissed people before, but nothing like this. You two were made for each other, and if the otherworldly experience of how you first met didn’t make it painfully obvious, this did.
You moaned into the kiss which she took as an opportunity to explore your mouth with her tongue. Cupping your face to bring you closer, as if you were going anywhere.
She finally breaks the kiss.
“Fuck…”
You giggle, “I know.”
Crazy to be so infatuated by someone on your second date. But the truth is that’s how Ellie felt and she couldn’t explain the how. You, on the other hand, had an idea or two.
After your second date the two of you only got closer. You were on cloud nine. You two could talk for hours, hangout for hours, laugh for hours, kiss for hours. You had come to terms with the fact that you would never know how it is that you met Ellie first or why she couldn’t remember your slumber induced escapades.
It didn’t make it any less strange, but you were long past the freaking out stage. If anything, you had gotten to know Ellie better and even experienced things you never got the chance to back there. You were meant to find each other. That was the best you could come up with and it was fine with you.
-
You decided to plan a date for you and Ellie. She was usually the one that did, being the creative one out of the two of you. But you wanted to do something nice for her.
You settled on a picnic. The past few days had been sunny and warm enough for it. You hauled to the kitchen and prepared everything you needed. The snacks, the drinks, the plates and the cutlery, checkered blanket and all. You even got her flowers earlier that morning.
As your girl rang your bell one more time to pick you up, you grabbed the basket and the flowers and opened the door.
“Hey, beautiful.” She said as she pulled you in for a kiss. You hum into the kiss.
“These are for you,” you tell her as you hand her the bouquet.
“Are you serious?” She asks with a grin on her face.
“Of course, I’m serious.”
“God, you are” kiss “so fucking” kiss “cute” kiss
You giggle into her kisses. “I take it you like them?”
“I love them. You are the first girl to give me flowers, you know?”
“I am?” You ask incredulously.
“Yeah.”
“All the other girls were stupid, then.” She laughs.
She drives to your destination. A pretty forest you had found upon a quick internet search for a good picnic spot. The pictures didn’t lie, the place was beautiful. Green foliage and perfectly cut grass with the perfect amount of sun and shade. You set up the whole thing, enjoying the evening with Ellie.
Ellie was convinced she could stare at you for hours. From how you move your hands when you talk, to how you tilt your head back slightly when you laugh, to how you pout your lips and twist them to the side when you are thinking, you drive her mad.
And maybe it’s the way the sun is hitting your back, making a halo form around your silhouette. Maybe it’s the way the green compliments your skin so beautifully, so familiarly. Maybe the way the warmth of the day and yours mix together and embrace her, making her vision slightly hazy. Maybe the way the sound of the breeze hits the leaves and the sound of the birds chirping mixes with your voice and creates a song she’s sure she’s heard before. But Ellie has lived this before. She has seen you like this before.
She almost gets whiplash from it, all of it coming back to her at once. The day at the cafè wasn’t the first time you two met, and she remembered now.
-
a/n: second repost while i work on part 3 :)
taglist @s4pphicslutt @fleshunger @whore4abby @astroph1les @eelliesbtch
#works 𝜗ϱ#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie x reader#ellie x fem reader#ellie x you#ellie x y/n#ellie fluff#ellie williams fanfic#wlw post#wlw#tlou#the last of us#lesbian#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x y/n
344 notes
·
View notes
Text
⭑ observations ii. tom riddle x reader
part i here.
summary. two weeks after your last encounter with tom shatters all of your previous observations, tensions are high, and eventually, something's gotta give. (it's tom. he’s giving head)
tags. smut (so. so much. minors BE GONE TO WHENCE YOU CAME!), fem anatomy + reader is referred to as a woman by someone, fingering, cunnilingus, piv, again implied tall!tom or short!reader (take it however you prefer), jealous tom does not understand friendship but then again neither does reader apparently, a little wine is had, the room of requirement is used shamelessly as a plot device, did i mention smut, i’ve lost my mind etc etc.
note. this is a part two, so go ahead and read the first part and come back if you'd like :) obligatory preface: it's safe to assume any smut i write within hogwarts is a university au — these people are all 18+ tyvm. also woahh was not expecting the love on my last post so thank you! i'm still trying to figure this whole acc out so support, questions, (requests? never done those before) anything is appreciated ♡
word count. 6.3k
The next two weeks are agony. You don’t, in fact, stop meeting with Godefrey to study, because you do, in fact, still need a good mark in Ancient Runes and for all his faults he can reach the tallest shelves and he’s a faster writer than you. Also, Tom Riddle is fantastic with his hands but this does not make him God.
You find pureblood politics a bit archaic. You find muggle courting a bit stifling. This leaves very little space for what took place between you and Tom in the middle of a corridor two weeks ago (you can’t stop wincing at how insane that sounds) and very little patience for his utterly original and not-at-all entitled request that you halt your studies with Godefrey. Godefrey doesn’t stick his hands up your skirts while the two of you are studying, doesn’t silence your gasps with a shush and a finger to your mouth, doesn’t — wouldn’t (you’re so imaginative when you want to be) — tell you to keep reading as his thumb draws circles between your legs, tell you to repeat the words that get caught in your throat, tell you how much he likes it when your eyes go dumb and glassy and all you can say is his name. So, really, Tom should have nothing to worry about.
“I swear,” Selwyn says, picking at a plate you don’t think she’s actually eaten anything off with how distracted she is, “he’s looked over here at least three times.”
You don’t dare glance at who you know she’s talking about. “You’re obsessed.”
Pot. Kettle. Whatever.
“Are you sure you didn’t do something to upset him in Potions? Didn’t botch something that might mar his perfect record?”
You flick her forehead and she scowls. “I’m not an idiot, Selwyn. I handle myself just as well in Potions as he does — he wouldn’t —” Wouldn’t have complimented your rapport if that weren’t true, wouldn’t have said you communicate efficiently, make a good pair, probably wouldn’t have — fingered you in the hallway? — yes, that too. Slipped your mind. So easy to forget.
You take a long exhale, and smile impassively at her. “I didn’t botch anything, trust me.”
She finally takes a bite of food. “Maybe I did something…”
And then she’s lost in thought again, eating now, at least, and you shake your head softly as you watch what are likely a million different theories flitting through her head.
“Morning,” Tom says to you when you enter Potions after breakfast, a delicate smile tugging at his lips.
You have, of course, trained for this.
It’s your fifth — sixth? — time sharing a table with him since that night and it is somehow easier by nature and harder by anticipation (of what, you have no idea) every time. The first was terrible. Unsalvageable and without a silver lining. It had taken almost an hour that morning to charm the violent hues of red and purple spanning the column of your throat, and ultimately, the marks were so persistent you’d forgone the glamours and decided to just wear a turtleneck. You’d been fortunate it was completely inconspicuous to wear such a thing in December, but that was about all there’d been to be grateful for. You hadn’t been able to look at Tom all class and his hand had brushed yours once to take a phial from you and you’d flinched so sharply it would have shattered on the floor if he hadn’t caught it. And he’d smiled, like he’s smiling now, a soft, “Careful,” that honestly, for a short moment, made you want him dead.
Now you could speak just fine, look him in the eyes in practised intervals, and almost, impressively, make articulate conversation with him again. Make stupid comments about Slughorn and Lestrange and bear the weight of his grin knowing it was there for you.
His, he’d called you. A very funny thing.
“Morning,” you answer on a smiling sigh, sleepy but jovial all the same.
You deserve applause for this.
“Tired?”
“Mhm — Essays for Ancient Runes are due Friday and it’s been keeping us up all night.”
His eyes flash with something you’ve yet to ascertain. Your research has been put temporarily on hold, scattered and splintered by the revelation that your first observation was, admittedly, a little bit off, and you have no means of figuring out a look like that when you can’t even begin to figure out anything else.
“Has it?” he asks, a tinge less friendly.
“Well,” you say, grinding the lacewing flies, “that’s commonplace, isn’t it? You take all sorts of advanced classes, I’m sure you understand the work it takes.”
“...Hm.”
That’s it. That’s all you get from him.
And if Selwyn’s concern over you botching your work in Potions wasn’t already, obviously dispelled, the glee on Slughorn’s face as he assesses your and Tom’s cauldron should do it.
“Brilliant! Just brilliant!” He claps a hand over Tom’s back, regarding you both with pride so thick it clouds his eyes, like he's drifted into a revery of the future (you and Tom, you expect, are his most prized graduates, making history under his name, proving his immense wisdom) before he appears to return to Earth. “Ten points between the two of you, hm? Very, very good — though, of course, no surprises there!”
He chuckles to himself as he evaluates the other students, and you catch a horrified wheeze of Godefrey’s name (bless his heart) as one of the cauldrons in the back begins to sputter and froth.
You look to Tom with some droll little comment at making it to the end of term with top marks, but his gaze is burning into Godefrey’s table in such a way you wouldn’t be surprised if it was what was causing his cauldron to boil.
Well. Perhaps not, then.
You and Godefrey hand in your essay that Friday with more relief than apprehension — you both decide it’s quite good — and you laugh loudly and breathlessly as he picks you up and thanks you a thousand times, spinning you until you’re dizzy. You refrain from making any promises to attend his Quidditch games, but he vows to let you have the snitch he catches.
And Slughorn, you come to find, was not exaggerating his elation at your skill. After trotting after you on your walk back from Ancient Runes to invite you to the last Slug Club dinner of the year, your spirits are high with the blissful satisfaction of a job well done and a night to celebrate it with.
You can breathe, finally, when it’s the last week of school before Christmas break and Selwyn’s zipping the back of a last-minute dress you purchased in Hogsmeade.
“Gorgeous,” Selwyn says with a grin. “Wish this school would have a bloody ball so I could really dress you up.”
“Buy a doll, Selwyn; you can dress them however you like.”
“You are such a —”
You burst into laugher, swatting her wand away as she pokes your side with it.
“Just — go then, before I hex you.”
“All right, all right!” you concede, arms raised in surrender. “Don’t ruin all your hard work now.”
“Oh,” she calls on your way out the door. You turn and there’s a mischievous look in her eyes as she tucks her wand back in her pocket. “And do tell me before I leave tomorrow if Riddle stares at you all night.”
You groan as if it’s a truly abominable thing to imagine. Riddle, staring with those dark eyes of his? You, the centre of his attention? Ghastly. You daresay you’d never recover from the horror of it.
“Don’t leave before I tell you how remarkably uneventful a night it was,” you say with a sidelong glare, and leave before she can edge in the final word.
You have no idea what a Slug Club supper typically consists of, but you imagine for Christmas he’s gone a little further with his festivities. His office is glittering in hues of green and red and fleecy, snow-dappled gold. The lights overheard (some similar charm to the one in the Great Hall but a tad less complex, you think) drip and then vanish into the air like squeezed berries, and the berries — served with pastries and ice cream — taste like they must be enchanted with something.
Selwyn was right that the standard dress isn’t quite formal enough for a ball, but it’s… formal. The boys are in clean-cut dress robes and the girls are in fine gowns of different lengths. By the overwhelming number of them you recall being archetypes of Slytherin pureblood fanaticism, it makes sense how expensive they all look. You yourself brush up nicely, if not a bit more frugally, but you haven’t been to an event like this at the school yet, and that’s exciting on its own.
It’s another degree of training (is there going to be a marathon? Are you at war?), a step up from your preparations before Potions every other day, to be ready when Tom Riddle enters the room a respectable five minutes late with a gleam about him more captivating than any of the lights.
“Ah, Tom!” Slughorn exclaims, and ushers him into a seat you remark before Tom is even in it is discomfitingly near to yours. “We’re all here at last… Supper, then? Hope you aren’t too full already, I’ve got the House Elves running laps!”
You’re spared Tom’s closeness by a Ravenclaw couple sat in the chairs between you, their hands clasped under the table while they sip wine from their goblets, and you only realise the length of your observation when Tom glances at you from the spot over, and you startle yourself into reaching for your own goblet and pretending to enjoy Slughorn’s bitter wine.
You eat. You listen to cluttered, unending tales of Slughorn’s time at school and how he earned his post. You drink, and then you regret not drinking before eating because there’s only a very light, very nice buzz that warms you when you finish your cup, and the Ravenclaw couple is — oh, wait, it isn’t just them — they’re standing up to dance as a gramophone sparks to life and a low, dulcet instrumental begins to play. There are now two notably empty seats separating you from Tom.
What had you said this night would be? Blissful satisfaction?
You couldn’t blame Selwyn for suggesting you’d blundered Potions — you didn’t feel exceptionally smart right now.
“I didn’t know you would be here tonight,” Tom says, pulling the chair beside you.
Where is the bottle of wine? No. Nevermind. You behave regrettably enough sober.
You manage a simple, “And yet.”
“...And yet.” His lips quirk before he takes a drink from his goblet.
You lament for a second that you’ve only actually kissed those lips once. They spent a great deal longer on your neck.
“Will you be here over break?” he asks, and it isn’t an unreasonable thing to ask, you suppose.
“I think so. Why?”
“I’d like to know whether to expect you or not.”
Expect you… No, yes — revert to observation two: unusual is not an apt enough word for him.
It takes you a moment to conjure a response befitting polite dinner conversation. That is, after all, still what this is.
“I suppose you can. I’ll be busy, of course.”
Well, you didn’t say you conjured something good. It’s a big fat lie. Placating, vague, empty. And you suspect Tom knows that.
“Pity.”
Yes, he knows. He’s all quiet amusement again.
You stare off, satisfied to be left alone —
"And what is it that'll be taking so much of your time?"
“Well, I'm —” And now you have to build the lie — “I’ve told Godefrey I’ll attend to his Quidditch practise. Since the pitch isn’t in use.”
God, it’s so stupid it’s almost impressive — you don’t even know if Godefrey will be here over break, and you could have chosen any number of excuses that would pique Tom’s interest less than it’s apparently consistently piqued by the mention of your study partner.
There’s that strange, indecipherable look again. Riddle is a perfect surname for him, you decide then, and you almost laugh at yourself for it, but that would probably not go over well should he ask what’s so funny.
“Have you, now? That’s very kind of you.”
“It’s hardly charity.”
“Hm, it’s kind of you to think so.”
You huff, tipping your goblet back to swallow the last meagre dregs of your wine.
“You look lovely.”
It’s just a little bit — just a tiny, straggling little bit of elderflower that captures your throat — and you cough into your goblet. “Thank — thank you.”
And, well, he looks lovely too. Obviously. Sickeningly so. You know little about his personal life but you’re positive he’s at least a half-blood, if not muggle-born, and it makes you wonder the influence of his renownedly plain black suit in a crowd of neat, long robes.
He manages with little effort to look better than all of them at their best.
His eyes drift over you appreciatively, quick enough not to be rude but — enough. (Enough that you daresay you might never recover from the horror of it.) You adjust under his gaze even when it’s situated on your face, far too heavy a thing for you to carry. “Does Godefrey call you lovely?”
What?
You blink at him, your mouth is probably open and you probably look stupid but he’s so… irritating. Yes, of course Godefrey calls you lovely. Godefrey tells you you’re the smartest woman he’s ever met (after his mother), and he drowns you with sherbet lemons at no cost, and he writes at the speed of light to match the quickness with which you recite your textbook, and none of it means anything. Tom is just —
“Unbelievable…”
He quirks a brow. “What was that?”
“I said you’re unbelievable, Riddle. Is it impossible for you to comprehend that I might have friends? That Godefrey is my friend?”
“Well, memory serves me right that you seemed a bit confused on the conventions of friendship last you mentioned it. Do forgive my uncertainty.”
He — that was —
“Well, that’s because we are not friends.”
“No.” He leans in. “We are not.”
You push your chair from the table with all the grace you can manage for such an abrupt thing: a tight, impersonal smile on your face as you walk away and approach Slughorn, only realising when you get there that your empty goblet is clutched in your hand like you’re trying to strangle it.
Whatever he sees on your face, he isn’t drunk enough not to frown at. “Ah, our newest gem — hardly seen you all night! Not leaving already, are we?”
You glance at the clock. It isn’t as though you’re being impolite by abandoning his party in the middle of the event. It’s quite late, the servers are stuck to the walls with little to do, and most of the room has divided into waltzing pairs.
“I’m taking my friend to the train station tomorrow, sir. Unfortunately I need to be up quite early.”
Yes, yes, it’s all so tragic. You’re depressed to go.
“Such a shame,” Slughorn frets, wobbling a tad and balancing himself on the wall. “You’ll be all right getting back? Not at all dizzy, are you?” His laugh is cleaved by a loud hiccough, and then he laughs even more. “My, well, I myself will need to be carried!”
“...I’ll be fine, sir. Thank you.”
“Oh, no trouble at all — there’s — hm… ah, Tom!”
No, no — is it bad you almost reach over and slap your palm over your professor’s mouth? Is it at all impressive that you don’t? You should look on the bright side in moments like these. You should admire your restraint.
But of course, Slughorn’s eyes don’t fall upon Tom for nothing. He's halfway across the room already, and Slughorn must have spotted him approaching to achieve this brilliant solution. “Tom can escort you back, no?”
Tom (unforgivably) is beside you now, a very mean, very pretty smile on his face.
“Not too much to ask, I should think? You know the castle best. Head Boy — sometimes I still can’t believe it!”
You look up at Tom and your jaw is clenched where you’ve since put down your goblet. There is too much tension in you to know what to do with, and he looks positively thrilled.
“It’s hardly charity, sir.” He holds out his arm.
You wonder what spell would catch him most off-guard if you were to blast him in the face right now.
Slughorn claps his hands together. “Ha! Yes, well… perfect, then! Off now, the two of you, off now. Do have a good — ” He hiccoughs again — “rest!”
You don’t even bother the diplomacy of smiling at Slughorn as your arm loops through Tom’s and you’re exiting the party.
Neither of you say a word on the journey, and that’s very well.
If you could just get back to bed without speaking to him you may still consider it a good night. You may be able to push his strangeness and his entitlement and the annoying way his hair falls to another day, when he pesters you about Godefrey’s nonexistent Quidditch practise, which — come to think of it — you do think he told you he'd be headed home for the holidays. You really fumbled that one.
And then Tom’s thumb is brushing the bare skin of your arm and your walk stutters a bit. But he doesn’t mention it, and so neither do you.
And then he’s drawing down your elbow to your forearm so softly it almost feels like he isn’t touching you at all. He doesn’t mention it. Neither do you.
And then your arm, without really meaning for it to, is slipping from his and his hand is holding yours instead, feather-light as his fingers clasp yours and your breath is not the same as it was when you left.
He doesn’t mention it. He just keeps going.
His fingers work back up your arm and you shiver as they drag across your shoulder, gaze searing your neck as the soft digits find their way to your jaw, and you get the sense he’s remembering just how much he liked the taste of it, and you’re… you’re allowing it all again. You’re leaning in, you’re seeking him out, you want him flush against you and even that might not be satisfactory.
You are, in the end, a half-decent observer and a terrible liar.
You’re grabbing his hand with a small amount of direction and a great deal of meaning. You suppose it's because, historically, you’ve proven to have trouble with words in moments like these, and you don’t really know where you’re taking him but god, you know where you want him. Somewhere soft, this time, thick enough that you can fist your hands around it and melt. Somewhere he can hover over you, maybe hold you down a little, just until — maybe, miraculously — you might make him break a little too. Clamber over his lap. Make him yours.
“Tom,” you mouth, some question in the way your eyebrows knit.
The moment you say his name — the instant — he’s pulling you in, crushing his mouth against yours. And, ah, right, that’s what his lips feel like. You’d almost forgotten.
This kiss is not chaste, hardly tender. It resists in that it asks you to push, to plead, to take this for yourself to prove how badly you want it, and he smiles into it when you do. And then, sated by your efforts, he lets you have him. You’re gripping the collar of his suit in your hands as his wander appreciatively over the back of your dress, pulling you into him as the kiss deepens. He’s savouring you like you’re something religious that’s been offered to him, and there’s the taste of wine on his tongue and you’re still here, aware enough that the symbolism isn’t lost on you.
“I've been thinking," he says between kisses, “about the way you felt when I touched you. I've been thinking about how long it might take before you need it again."
You gasp at the sensation, and god, god, you've been wondering too, haven't you?
You’re pulling him impossibly closer and something hard is pressing into your hip and you clutch tighter onto his shirt as you moan into his mouth. You need it off, you think, and — has your dress been clinging to you like this all night? You need that off too. You need skin on skin. You careen him backwards without aim, your mind a muddled mess of all the many things your body is screaming it needs, like this is fucking imperative; to give it up would be catastrophic.
You suppose, based on what you’ve read, that that’s how the Room of Requirement works, but it’s still funny to think it would apply to this.
It hurts to remove yourself from him to watch in dumb awe as the door forms in the stone (to see the dark, languid shape of his eyes bearing down on you, the wet, stained pink of his lips), and Tom seems to recover from the revelation much faster than you.
His mouth is on yours once more, a hungry kiss; his free hand at your waist, guiding you through the door and shutting it carelessly behind him.
He’s like fire against you, radiating as he presses down on you, his hand tangled in your hair and his hips flush against yours. You shiver as his mouth starts to move down (a cheap trick — he hasn’t forgotten how much you liked it the last time) from your jaw to your throat, as his lips trail down your chest and you're shivering into the warmth of him.
You’ve heard it said before, in some romantic sense, that it’s sometimes hard to tell where you end and someone else begins.
This is not like that.
You've never been more aware of anything than the point where you and him meet.
You’re tugging at him blindly again, trusting in the nature of the Room like this isn't the first time you've been in it, and then you're stumbling down onto a bed you're quite sure wasn't there a moment ago (people say magic is a neutral force but evidently this is not the fucking case), fingers carding through Tom's hair as his body pins you into the mattress.
His mouth is molten hot as you squirm and pant beneath him, your breath coming faster than it ever has. Everything feels sharper and deeper and more intense under his touch, every sensation heightened until it's almost impossible to tell pleasure from pain, his tongue from his teeth.
How did it take you this long to do this again? To need him like this?
And his — you should really have the mind to see the mistake in all of this but perhaps that's for later — his fingers are pulling your sleeves down, propping your back to arch as he reaches under you to unzip your dress, apparently too impatient to sit you up and take it off properly so he just bunches it around your waist instead. There’s a moment where he stops to look at you, your chest exposed to him in the dim sconce-light, and then his mouth returns to circle your breast and you're biting down on a pillow to hold back the whimpering gasp that seeks to escape you. He hums around your flesh, and then he’s at your sternum, kissing a stripe to your belly button before pushing past the dress he's left ringed around your abdomen.
You shimmy under the weight of him to prop your head up — to see past the mass of silk that obscures his face from you as moves lower and lower, hands spanning your hips to keep you still.
His face hovers above your thighs, and he doesn’t move.
“Did you enjoy my fingers?" he asks.
At that you freeze, thighs pressing together to bury the hand that's rising between them.
Tom smiles. “Hm, you did."
And then he spreads your legs apart, one hand pushing your underwear aside and regarding you with delicate, shameless appetite — something that might even be adoration: like this is all he ever wanted you to want.
“Do you think you'd enjoy my mouth, too?"
Words are gone. There's nothing left in you.
His head moves happily between your knees, holding them apart, pressing kisses to the base of your thighs. Your hands flail from the sheets, desperate to grip something else and you hold back a sound that feels like irritation and need at the same time. You need him closer, higher than this. He knows. You can feel his smile biting into your skin.
And then you manage a nod though you're not even sure he's looking at your face anymore (and what a picture to imagine he is) and you worry momentarily it won’t be enough for him — that he’ll ask you to be nice and say it out loud for him — but he hums with something merciful, and — his chin dips. You catch the smallest glimpse of his tongue before it’s on you, wet and slow and unrelenting and you say his name, but it’s a mewl; you choke on it. It sounds like a cry.
Pitiful, needy, undone. Just how he wants you.
You think all efforts to remain even remotely composed are thrown to the wind as soon as his tongue is lapping at you, fast and then slow, everything you want and not even remotely close. He sinks all his weight down as if he can predict the moment you'll writhe before you do — and you do. And with his grip he tells you to endure it. You only need him to say it with his hands and his mouth but he breathes back, licking his lips and he actually says it. “Be good.”
That makes your breath hitch and your cheeks swell impossibly hotter, and reality is a small glint in your peripheral where everything else is burning red. “Y-you’re—”
His mouth returns to you, tongue catching your clit in a drawn-out, agonising motion, and you gasp and lurch forward to inch through the sensation, craving more, more, more. Reason is lost on you, a throbbing familiarity forcing you to grind your teeth down on the pillow to stop yourself from telling him to — you don’t even know. Finish you. Abandon all reluctance. Just let you come as hard as you know he wants you to.
But he pauses, observant as he starts to work his fingers against you. Watching how your slick coats them like it’s the most enthralling sight he’s ever witnessed. Slowly, ever so slowly, he starts to push one inside of you, hearing your breath catch above him and the moan that comes tumbling out of your throat, pillow be damned.
You do your best to breathe through it, and you know he knows how to make you unfold like this, so the meticulous lightness of his ministrations tells you he’s trying to keep it from you now. You’re almost embarrassed about the fact that you’re dripping onto his hand regardless; his lips puffy, his gaze unnervingly, dizzyingly carving you in two.
“Just,” you rasp, clutching desperately at his wrist. “Tom, please.”
Your begging must be music to his ears. (It’s a rare, unplanned fifth observation: that you think he’ll never get tired of hearing you say his name like that.)
He adds a finger. It’s encircling you, first, and no amount of restraint can stop the harsh gasp that leaves you, but then it’s his tongue and two fingers and he’s pushing into you how you wanted, and he makes a pleased sound against you, gripping you tighter with his free hand, still not allowing you movement and fuck, are you trying. What you're feeling now — the need, the want, everything — is more than rational thought. Your mind goes blank, and all that matters is this, him, right here and now; nothing else exists, not even for a second. You moan, a low, throaty noise that's a little too loud, a little too intense; you can't recall if anything has ever come from you quite like it and Tom devours you at the sound.
More, you agree; it's almost an obsession in you now; more, more, please, anything and everything.
It’s the precision of his touch — not some bored, hurried transgression — that brings your hands helplessly to his hair.
“Tom,” you whine, holding him tight, and the purr of his mouth finding you again is something destructive.
As soon as you feel another swell of something deep down, your mouth is dropping open.
His tongue is sliding through you, fingers curling, and then your clit is in his mouth, and he’s watching you between your thighs as your eyes clench shut, and you’re coming.
Your voice breaks somewhere in the catastrophe of it. Your body spasms, electric down to every atom, and he pins you down through it. He doesn’t grant you the reprieve of escaping the frenzied, glorious torture of it. His mouth still lingers. His tongue moves thankful and unrelenting.
He takes all of you, and you think this is destruction — creation — both. How terrifyingly similar they suddenly feel.
His lips are swollen and slick when he finally detaches them from you and you want to kiss him, but he’s leaning back to admire his work. You swallow, unable to blame him for it because you look down at yourself and — this is something else. You’re dripping down his chin. You're shaking. Your legs are still clenching around his torso. They’re holding him so tight you can’t imagine it doesn’t hurt.
But he just rolls off of you. Adjusts his trousers and your abdomen flutters and you think, don’t.
You don’t even realise you’re reaching for him until your hand is around his wrist and you’re still fucking sighing through the come-down, panting into the hot air.
He presses a kiss to your forehead, fingers damp on your chin as he holds you. You make a note that that’s the second time he’s done that. That you thought it was strangely intimate the first time and nothing’s changed other than how much more you like it.
And it doesn’t really feel like you can help it but crawl with gooey, trembling legs onto his lap. Doesn’t feel like you can help it when you lean in and capture his lips with yours, moan unabashedly into his mouth at the stiffness that presses against your core when you do, steal his tongue and the taste of you on it.
When he pulls away he’s looking at you like he doesn’t think you can actually do this. Like you’d just crumble the moment you tried.
A low, determined protest rises in your throat and you’re kissing him again. You’re unbuttoning his dress shirt, you’re trembling to reach for his trousers.
When you can finally shrug his shirt off, press yourself against him, feel that skin on skin you wanted so badly, you find it somehow even more suffocating than its absence. You’re left wanting a more you aren’t able to even conceptualise, but you’re grinding involuntarily against him and his teeth are scraping your neck and he's hissing at the sensation, and — yes, there’s more.
Your breath is staggered when your hips stutter into a roll and you — fuck. You’re tugging desperately to remove his belt and he smiles against your throat as he takes your hands and guides them to him. You can feel his bulge against your thigh and you’re spreading your legs to usher him where you want, clawing at his chest without even meaning to.
Tom’s taking off his belt, and he’s pulling down his trousers just enough to bare himself to you, and maybe he’s right that you can’t manage it yourself but he stops his assistance like the intrigue of finding out is too good to resist. There's something both intimate and imperious, in a way, about the way he's looking at you now; it's a kind of focus and intensity and withheld hunger just for you; and you're more than happy to give yourself over to it, to let his hands and his eyes and his mouth claim you for his own. To claim him for yours, at last.
You do. You struggle for it. He’s very patient.
But then it’s there — more — as you finally sink down on him and bite his shoulder and he shudders a low, pained exhale, his hands clutching your waist.
There’s a silent, suspended moment where neither of you move. The room feels entirely still.
Your lips quiver over his pulse, and your stomach flips at the intensity of it, the undeniable rate of his desire beneath you. You smile against him now, like he always does to you, conscious enough to mumble into his neck, “Mine.”
Tom stutters inside you, fingers gripping you impossible tighter as you dare to think he even gasps. You dare to think he likes it.
And then one of his hands grabs your jaw and his kiss is searing. He thrusts upward and you cry into his mouth, searching to match his pace in a way that you appreciate, for once, he seems unlearned in.
It’s all a bit messy, a bit new, palms in fists, in skin, in hair, digging for every part they haven’t already taken from. The sound in the back of Tom’s throat is divine, the feeling of him inside you as he slips his hand back between your legs — like he needs everything, like he knows you do too — it’s ineffable. It coils somewhere deep, touches something you didn’t know existed. Your hips are rotating, thighs still soft and slack from coming apart on his tongue, but you’re determined. It feels like finding even ground. It feels like something you deserve: to make him feel how you did.
Your head rolls back, eyes pinching shut in bliss, but Tom is there at your jaw again, forcing your blurry gaze back to him.
His hips are inching even further, the intensity of his pace as he adjusts to you making you dizzy. You think, realistically, there’s sound coming out of you, but you aren’t entirely sure when it’s so close to him, when your mouth is between his fingers and your ears are ringing and he’s looking at you like you’re made for him.
“Mine.” And it isn’t a dismissal of your own claim but a confirmation that one will not be without the other. His voice is raw and breathy and something about the way he says it makes you contract inadvertently around him, hands swatting his chest like they don’t know what else to do. There’s just too much.
You recognize you’re trying to say something. Some plea, a moan, his name (is there anything else left?), but you’re just babbling into his mouth and he holds you there. He doesn’t kiss you. It’s your failing words against his lips. He swallows whatever syllables try to shape them.
It’s there again when you need it most; the heavy, swirling feeling inside you as he snaps his hips, his fingers returning to your waist with punishing firmness. His breathing accelerates, low in his throat, and you push harder against him. Your vision is gone again, head held in his hands to keep from rolling back so that, you suspect, he can watch defeat split you down the middle again — not over your shoulder, not with his head between your legs — with his eyes on yours, with every broken moan you let out so close to his face he can feel the breath of each one.
You’re grappling desperately at skin that doesn’t feel like enough, even though he’s rocking inside you, and you see the insanity of it, you see that it isn’t logical. Too much and not enough at once — you’re smart enough to know that doesn’t work, but it just is.
“Please,” you manage in a voice you don’t recognize. “Please, Tom, pleasepleaseplease —”
Had you said before it was foolish to call him forgiving? You take it back. He’s very eager to oblige you.
He finds some place inside of you and you don’t know quite what it is that he changes but it's new, uncharted, and you break there. You dissolve. You’re liquid in his hands as you sob, stuttering around him, trembling like you didn’t know was possible, and you swear — you swear you’re going to take him there with you. It isn’t that you could stop yourself if you tried but your body is gripping around him, fingers carving halved spheres into his skin, and you’re pushing down on him through the ecstasy — you’re forcing your eyes open so he can see you break, watch them flutter back all soft and pretty.
And you're sated by your ruin when it ruins him too.
The sound he makes is ragged. Undone. He can only bury it halfway with a kiss you think is actually more of a bite, twitching inside you as he fucks you through it.
You’re both lost in each other for a moment that feels detached from time, feeling his hips stutter to a halt, feeling your body soften. And he’s pulling out of you like it hurts, mouth falling open as he does. You wince at the loss, the sweet soreness between your legs, and you’re held only by the weight of him. You think — and you actually sway like the mere idea is too strong — that if it weren’t for his hands, you’d fall flat off the bed.
But he sort of lifts you off him, lays you down and watches you for a long time as if to decide something important before he's laying down beside you. You watch him too. His fingers brush your hair out of your face, and when there’s not a single curl left clinging to the sweat on your skin, he continues anyway. You let him trace your lips, your jaw, your nose, and somehow, a bit terrifyingly, your final observation: nothing about it feels unusual at all.
You did say he was yours.
#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle x you#tom riddle smut#tom riddle x y/n#tom marvolo riddle#voldemort#voldemort x reader#tom riddle imagine#tom riddle fanfiction#tom riddle oneshot#NO LONGER!#but it is only a two-parter sorry. this is it#harry potter fanfiction#wizarding world
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Besieged part II
part one
tw - noncon, forced marriage, pregnancy mentions, breeding kink, blowjobs, naoya being naoya and being an asshole. naoyas shitty excuse of foreplay. not beta read
wc- 2.1k
by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume and read dark content.
a/n- hey…how y’all doin. don’t hate me for posting this over two years later lolol i honestly didn’t think i’d ever get back to this but. i have had been on a writing kick lately. i hope my skills haven’t completely disappeared. thank you for all the love for part one.
You wake up the next morning, covered in dry cum. You feel its presence still very much so stuffed into your cunt. You also feel a warm body draped over yours, looking over at the table you do see a glass of water. You also feel a flaccid cock you must have been warming all night long.
Did he really fuck you until he passed out? You reason he probably did. You look towards the window to find the sun just beginning to rise, not being able to stop the few tears that escape your eyes, a true moment to yourself, sort of. For the last week, the weight of your situation settles, is this really how you’re going to spend the rest of your life?
Eventually, you reckon you had silently cried yourself back to sleep. It was the fact that when you had come to again, your now husband wasn't sprawled out on top of you. But a maid with a worried look on her face gently tapping you awake. Telling you it was time to change the bedding, her skittish voice starting to pull away the curtains of grogginess out of your system.
You make sure to give her a warm smile, nodding and giving a soft thank you. Making a mental note to treat the staff nicely, showing them you are nothing like that vile man you have been legally bound to.
The maid turns away to give you privacy as you move your sore body to plant your feet on the cold floor. Seeing a note laying on your bedside table, picking it up you read it over.
“I will be attending my own duties until mid-day, don’t bother me, I shall come find you when I deem it is time. Don’t miss me too much <3” You scoff crumpling the note and tossing it where you found it.
Shivering you pull on the robe nearby, letting the soft fabric hug your frame, giving another smile to the maid, you make your way to the washroom and out of her way. You spot the shower and take a better look at the elegant room. The ofuro and shower separated, traditional yet modern touches adjourning the room. Both bathing options are definitely big enough for two, you mentally note that he had done that on purpose. Looking between the two options, a soak in the ofuro seemed more tempting, something to soothe your aching body from the rough treatment you had taken last night.
Taking a good look in the mirror as you begin to fill up the bath, your eyes widen at the state of your body. Darkened marks adorn your neck and chest, accompanied by bite and scratch marks decorating your thighs and waist. Is he even human? You surely don’t remember the sex being this animalistic, but your fucked out brain probably drifted off after your second or third orgasm you presume.
Hopefully he isn’t this insatiable every night. The thought sends shivers down your spine, keeping yourself distracted by adding salts and herbs you had found sitting out into the steaming water.
Carefully stepping in and letting the warmth consume you, you close your eyes and lean your head back, letting daydreams run through your weary head as you lean it against the edge of the appliance. Near dissociation when.
The brash opening of the door rips you out of your thoughts, you hear his footsteps before you see him round the corner quickly. Ripping you out of your dream-like state, sending your nervous system into fight or flight mode, a shrill gasp emitting from you.
“Ah ha there you are. I was wondering if you were going to wake up or not before the sun went down.” Naoya says as if it was a matter of fact. Cat like eyes trying to peer beneath. “I was looking all over for my little wife.” The man poses with a faux stretch. “I got done with my duties early, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of the evening playing with my new toy.” He begins to shed his daily attire.
Sighing, but not quite in defeat you close your eyes and begin to mutter “well excuse me for trying to take even a bath by my-”
Before you could even finish the sentence, you heard it before you felt it. A smack resounding in the room before your hand flies to your face to soothe the stinging pain. Shocked with wide eyes you avert your profile to him.
You are met with a stern look to his amber eyes, face unreadable. “I will tolerate little from you. I knew choosing you there would be some pushback, a stubborn woman such as yourself. However, you are smart enough to know and follow expectations regarding being my wife. I do not tolerate back talk. The rumors surrounding my clan are indeed true. We expect traditional wives. You will be absolutely no different.”
Flabbergasted you cannot control your rising emotions as they burst through the seams. “Expectations?! Guidelines?! I didn’t even want this!” No, you will not cry. Not in front of him.
A strong hand grips your face, a force even pulling you from the ofuro. “This. Isn’t. About. You.” Venom laced in his words as he shook your head back and forth. “I don’t care what you want. Surprise wife! You are here for me and me alone. That is your purpose in your pathetic life. Serve me. Warm my bed. Be my personal fuckhole. And bare me an heir. Speaking of fuckholes….” Naoya mumbles. Fumbling around with the cloth on his body. Slipping all of it off, the light illuminating off of his body, accentuated by the steam.
You’d be lying to yourself as to say he did not have a nice body. He did, and a nice cock, 7 and a half inches or so with decent girth and a perfect curve. You would know, the entire night the damn thing was inside of you, you are now very much so used to it.
To add on to his earlier statement, you are being gripped by the nape of the neck, Naoya standing on the stool you use to step into the tub, but he’s not stepping on.
“Open that whore mouth my dear beloved.” How can someone’s words be so venomous yet patronizing?
Taking a moment to process you don’t even see his hand come down to pinch your left nipple, the gasp parting your lips is all he needs to shove it in between your parted lips. Going slow and taking your time is not your dear husband's forte, obviously. As he is instantly gripping the sides of your slippery cheeks and moving his hips to fuck his cock farther and farther down your throat.
Your gags, and spluttering echo to and fro through the bathroom, along with the sound of his balls, slapping your chin, pulsing with the need for release.
Though the man above you is groaning, face scrunched up in concentration and pleasure. He protests a moment. “No, no no, fuck, no, need your cunt. Gimme…” Naoya begins to mumble, pulling you up by your arm from the ofuro. “Bend over the edge, yeah, yeah just like that.”
You know it’s futile to argue, and you can’t deny, that he does feel good, is that why your body is betraying you when you arch yourself over the edge of the bathroom appliance? Why you don’t kick and scream when you feel him spread your cheeks to get an adequate view of your cunt glistening with bath water, slightly covered in suds from your attempt of relaxation? Is it that deep down you know that submitting to him is your best option right now? Can you really do this for the rest of your life? In such a compromising position, your thoughts run wild.
All thoughts stop racing through your mind when you feel the head of his cock push in through your tight hole. Shaky trembling hands gripping your hips tightly. Naoya’s head is also whirring in pleasure, just like yours.
“Fuck fuck it’s just as tight as last night.” A sigh emits his mouth. As if his cock in your pussy could melt all his stresses and worries away. Fuck. Is all that he can formulate. Using his hands to bring you back and forth on his erection. A moan threatens to emit from your mouth before you cover it with your hand, no you cannot give him that satisfaction. Biting down on your hand for some semblance of control.
A semi cold hand finds its way to your warm slick breast, a hardy squeeze as he brings up his tempo. “Y-yeah” he groans. “Take it, like you’re meant to. All you’ll ever be good for anyways.” Naoya growls, speeding up his thrusts. Biting down on your shoulder. Angling his hips to hit deep inside your cunt over and over your G-spot. You swear you can feel him in your chest at this point.
Your hand falls to the edge of the tub squeezing the edge in an attempt to ground yourself from the new found angle. You do not want to give him the satisfaction of his use of your body as his own personal fuck-hole, that he could make you cum from the treatment as well.
“Fu- shit. You’re milking me you bitch!” His teeth detach from your shoulder, his hand gathering at the crown of your head to hold onto your hair and bring his body towards him. “Look at me.” The blond demands. Pace never falters. “A fucking mess from a little fucking.” He hisses. “Who owns you?”
As if he can talk, he’s practically panting and drooling like an animal in heat. The latter question sparks a flood of defiance in you, moving your head side to side.
“Tell me who you belong to if you wanna cum. Otherwise, you can just suck me off and I'll finish all over that pretty face. I don’t fucking care.”
You jolt in surprise as you feel his hand on your clit, lithe fingers swirling the bud. Teasingly coming and going each time you tighten around him. The itch that needs to be scratched is becoming a far bigger problem. Your inhibitions going out the window.
I mean, it's four words, it can't hurt right? Just this once you reason.
“I belong to…” You muster the reward of Naoya’s fingers rubbing your bundle slightly faster. The sounds of your moans and his hips slapping yours echoing in the bathroom.
“G-go on I can’t hold out much longer, stupid cunt feels too good.”
“I-I Belong to y-you! Na-Naoya!” You finally snap at the same time your husband increases the pace of both his fingers and thrusts. Your cunt squeezing him so tight he can barely pull out to go back in, your release exiting out of your spent pussy, splashing on Naoya’s pelvis.
“Too tight, too tight SHIT!” The man curses, pushing himself practically against your womb as you hear him growl, squeezing your body to him so tightly not even paper could come between.
You feel the final twitch as you come down from your high. Warm spurts of cum filling you to the brim.
Naoya pulls out slightly wincing as his spent cock falls out. Mesmerized seeing his pearly cum in your thoroughly abused pussy. Two fingers wasting no time to push it deeper. “I-it has to take. You need to be knocked up.” He pants, as you turn your head worried eyes widening. “Need to make sure you can’t leave. Even if you tried.” The latter part of the sentence comes out more dark as the former.
As you sit and lament over what just happened. Naoya steps beside you to drain the tub, leaving half the water before he fills it again with warm water. You look at him quizzically, he pays no mind, checking the water. Adding some salt and soap to the bath. Before lifting you up and setting you in without a word. “I have one more errand to attend to.” He exclaims redressing himself. “I will be eating dinner with you. Your husband says before leaving the bathroom. Not waiting for a response from you.
Shock leaves your system. Did he just… Do something nice for you? You won’t say it’s the best aftercare, but honestly you thought he was just going to leave you on the cold tiled floor. Warmth creeps up to your heart at the gesture. You shake your head, scolding yourself. You cannot fall for crumbs. Never for him, anyone but him.
You can figure something out, you reason. Find a way to leave and keep your family safe at the same time. Change your names, move out of the country, something! You cannot stay here, if you don’t leave now. You will be stuck under his heel forever.
#tw.noncon#naoya zenin#naoya zenin x reader#jjk smut#naoya x reader#jjk x you#jjk fanfic#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere jjk#yandere naoya#tw.yandere#tw.forced marriage#tw.breeding#tw.breeding kink#tw.oral#tw.pregnancy
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
head over skates · jjk ; part ii.
··· SUMMARY; jeon jungkook is the captain of the hockey team and one of the biggest fuckboys on campus. you happen to have known him for as long as you can remember but he is not who he used to be and you simply can’t stand it.
so what happens when you’re suddenly stuck doing a project with him for three weeks?
SERIES MASTERLIST · # TAG · MOOD BOARDS · PLAYLIST
PAIRING; hockey player!jungkook x f. reader
GENRE; fwb au, childhood friends to enemies to lovers au, college au
WORDCOUNT; 1,074
RATING; 18+
WARNINGS; swearing
a/n; part 2 os hockey jk!!! i hope you're enjoying this little series so far <3 please feel free to share your thoughts in the comments or in an ask! ty for reading muah
The Nook ��� the campus café – is bustling with students and professors when you step inside later in the afternoon. You just finished your psychology class and texted Jihyo, asking where she was. She told you to meet her at the café for late lunch at which your stomach grumbled as soon as you read her text. That granola bar you ate earlier will only get you so far before hunger returns. Your stomach grumbles again as you step closer to the counter, quickly glancing over the menu before ordering a chicken salad and an iced coffee.
Once ready, you grab it and try to spot Jihyo inside the busy café. When you finally spot her, you frown softly – she’s sitting in the far corner with Namjoon. They really didn’t waste any time getting to work on the project. You try your best to ignore the jealousy bubbling inside of you as you make your way to their table.
When class had ended almost immediately after the pairs were revealed, you had packed up your stuff and left the room before Jungkook could start a conversation. When Jihyo texted you about your sudden disappearance, you were already sitting in your seat in your next class. You told her you only had a 5 minute gap between classes and had to hurry there to make it – she seemed to believe your excuse and didn’t ask any further questions.
Phew.
“Hey,” she greets you with a warm smile when you sit down next to her. “How was class?”
“Boring but at least I had Minhyuk to keep me entertained,” you grumble, voice dripping with sarcasm as you unbox your salad to pour dressing over it. Before you can take your first bite, you look up at Namjoon with your best attempt of pleading puppy eyes, “Namjoon, please switch partners with me. Please!”
Both he and Jihyo look rather surprised at your sudden outburst as you stuff your face with a big bite of salad and chicken, looking more upset than ever as you wait for a response to your pleading request.
“I- um, who was your partner again?” He asks instead of just agreeing like you had hoped he would.
You sigh deeply, “... Jungkook.”
The mention of your childhood friend turned ex-friend has Namjoon shaking his head and laughing dryly as if you just told a really bad joke. You stare at him with a glare, waiting impatiently, internally praying and hoping he’ll say yes if you look miserable enough.
“I’m sorry, ____, but no, I don’t think so.”
You groan, the hints of a whine under it, “why not? You know Jihyo and I always do projects together-”
He shrugs, “as much as I feel bad for you, it’s still a no. Jungkook isn’t exactly the type of guy you wanna pair up with for projects.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes, “yeah, no shit. Why do you think I’m asking?”
Jihyo places a hand on your shoulder as if to calm you down. Looking at it from an outside point of view, you probably need it.
“Come on, ____,” she chuckles, “I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you think.”
She’s probably right – Jungkook isn’t a bad guy or anything, that much you know. He’s just that guy who cut you out of his life as soon as popularity grabbed a hold of him and made him prioritize everyone else over you. You’ve never been about that popular lifestyle so when he first gained attention from the pretty girls and the cool boys in high school, you knew the expiration date for your friendship was nearing. And as someone who hates holding grudges, you’ve been holding this exact grudge for half a decade with no plans of ending it any time soon.
“But it’s Jungkook,” you groan in frustration, “you know our history.”
She nods, “yes, I do. But maybe it’s time for both of you to move past that? It’s been 5 years already, ____.”
Despite knowing she’s right, you let out a fake laugh and return your focus to your salad. As much as you’d like to move past it, you just can’t. Jungkook really hurt you and it seems he doesn’t care so why would you spend your time and energy on him? Why should you forgive him for leaving you behind without so much as an explanation for his asshole behavior?
“Yeah, over my dead body.”
Jihyo sighs deeply in defeat while Namjoon stifles a laugh. You shoot them both an annoyed look before taking another big bite of your salad. You should’ve known Namjoon wouldn’t switch partners with you – he’s crushing on your best friend, for Christ’s sake. But still, it was worth a shot.
The three of you finish lunch in the matter of 30 minutes before you have to be at yet another class. They share their next class and you’re on your own once again, dragging yourself to class.
Luckily, this class is the last one for today.
Once you locate the classroom and find a seat, you get settled and ready for the class to start. You’re browsing around on your laptop when a text suddenly appears in the right upper corner of the screen. The fact that you receive a text isn’t that exciting or out of place but the person sending it certainly is.
And as if one text wasn’t enough, a row of them ticks in after the first one.
[2:24 PM] Jeon🤬👊🏼: hey, idk if this is still your number
[2:24 PM] Jeon🤬👊🏼: if it is, hey ;)
[2:24 PM] Jeon🤬👊🏼: wanna meet up sometime this week to work on the project?
You stare at the texts for a minute, racking your brain for all the reasons why Jeon Jungkook still has your number after all these years and then you wonder why you still have his. Also, since when does Jeon Jungkook care about doing a project? You didn’t exactly peg him to be the one encouraging school work. Although, it seems you’re taking too long to reply because he sends you another text before you have the chance to think of a reply.
This guy certainly doesn’t fear the concept of double texting. Or triple texting. No, he shamelessly texted you four times – probably without second guessing it too.
[2:25 PM] Jeon🤬👊🏼: I’ll bring iced Americano :)) if you still drink it, that is
You’re simply speechless.
all rights reserved © mercurygguk · tumblr
#jungkook#bts#fic: hos#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#fluff#smut#angst#jungkook x female reader#jungkook x reader#bts jungkook#kpop#kpop fanfic#jungkook fanfic#bts fanfic#bts jjk#bts x reader#bts x female reader#jungkook e2l#bts e2l#enemies to lovers au#college au#jeon jeongguk#jeongguk
727 notes
·
View notes
Text
Malleus x Reader: Biology Nerd (Part II?)
Fluff & NSFW things (slight angst?)
>ageless and minors dni<
Not really a part two just the same Yuu hanging out with Mal.
Reader is gender neutral but this is very self indulgent so they be fat, hairy, and may come across as masc. Also reader is Yuu.
Content Warning: cultural and biological differences leading to situations, assuming things are normal for another culture, accidental sexual stimulation and arousal, sexual tension, trying to hide arousal, Yuu being a nerd about Malleus's biology, Yuu touching Malleus innocently and Malleus getting off on the touching, is Yuu oblivious or is Yuu insecure and doesn't believe they're attractive enough for Malleus to want to fuck them?
Cuddling. There is so much cuddling. Just about every night Malleus would be floating outside Yuu's window, holding pajamas and a toothbrush. This occurred again and again, until Malleus's absence at night was finally noticed, and Sebek freaked out. The half fae's screams woke up the entire dorm. After that incident a lot more attention was put on Malleus's whereabouts. At first Sebek and Silver offered to join Malleus at the Ramshackle Dorm, but Malleus preferred his time with Yuu to be private. Lilia, being able to pick up on Malleus's little crush, found a solution. Have the child of man stay over at Diasomnia. As long as there weren't lectures the next day, Malleus and Yuu could stay up late doing whatever they wanted, and Sebek and Silver could check in as needed.
So, a new tradition started where, 1-2 times a week, Yuu would sleep over and spend the night in Malleus's room. Again, most nights were spent cuddling, talking, and enjoying each others company. Yuu was one of the few people where Malleus can have his scales, tail, and wings out and act normally around him. Well, as normal as Yuu can be. Though, Malleus's favorite thing about these visits was how Yuu would take care of him. Brushing his hair, polishing his horns, massaging his ears. His ears. It took Malleus using every bit of self control he has to remain still when Yuu touches his ears. Caressing the shell, rubbing the lobe. Malleus forced himself to take deep breaths and bite his lips to prevent himself from letting out a moan.
Malleus didn't have the heart to tell Yuu just what they were doing, how sensitive his ears are, how his cocks emerge from his slit. This became such a common occurrence that Malleus has become an expert at hiding his bulges, tucking them away, hiding them behind a pillow, excusing himself to the bathroom to take care of himself before returning. Did Yuu notice any of this weird behavior? Not really no.
Anytime Malleus did something a bit off, Yuu just assumed it was something either normal for him or just a fae thing. Malleus's dilated eyes, his awkward shifting with a pillow in his lap, the flush of his cheeks. Each thing Yuu could explain away. The eyes? Well, it is kinda dark in here. The pillow? Probably an erection, but that's just something the body does. The flushed cheeks and ears? Malleus isn't used to affection. Plus, if he's hard of course he'd be embarrassed! Yuu doesn't want to make it worse by pointing it out.
And so now they're here again, in Malleus's room. Malleus sits on his bed, pillow on his lap, and Yuu sits behind him. The human gently pulls away loose dead skin from the dragon fae's scales.
"I must thank you, child of man. Removing my shedding is often an inconvenience I'd rather not deal with. However, you've made my usual ordeal an enjoyable experience." Malleus hums and flexes his wings.
Yuu giggles. "You don't have to lie and make me feel better. I know you can just magic it off you."
Malleus is quiet for a beat before responding. "That is true. Removing my shedding is not an issue for me. It is a simple task. However, I did not lie when I stated you make the process enjoyable."
"Hm, yeah that checks out." Yuu focuses as they pick dead skin from between two scales. "Social grooming is a common behavior in social species. Makes sense humans and fae enjoy it."
Malleus thinks for a moment. "Yet you are the one always attending to me."
Yuu peels away the last bit of dead skin from Malleus's dark scales. "That's because I enjoy it too. It gives me something to focus on, something to do with my hands while I'm with you. Plus, you're really interesting to look at."
"Interesting to look at?" Malleus asks.
"Of course! Like-" Yuu runs their hand up Malleus's back to rest where the far's wings connect to his shoulder blades. "Even just your back is beautiful! There are multiple points that move and contract in a layered network of muscles in a way that is both very similar yet also drastically different to what I know. I can feel the movement every time you move your wings. And the way your scales shift and move over these muscles, an interlocking pattern that moves so perfectly on top of everything. It makes me think about the evolutionary process leading to this, and biological ancestry, clades, and categories of different spaient species here. How can I not enjoy myself?"
By the time Yuu finishes their thought, Malleus, tips of his ears dusted with pinkn has turned to face them. "Such an eye for detail for things I think nothing of. You explain your fascination with such passion. You truly have an admirable mind, child of man."
"I mean, you're the same way." Yuu responds.
"I am?"
"Your love for architecture, especially gargoyles. I admit there are times I don't understand what you're talking about exactly, but I enjoy listening to you. You always light up and it's really cute to see."
"Cute." Malleus let's the word sit in his tongue. "I should be used to the way you speak of me by now. But, I do agree. I enjoy listening to you even when I do not understand your words."
Yuu chuckles. "I'm glad to hear that. I know I tend to ramble. You can stop be to ask questions if you don't get it though."
"It is the same for me. You are free to interupt me with questions." Malleus responds. "And I do have a question for you."
"Oh? Shoot."
"What you said earlier about social grooming. Is it common for it to be... so one sided?" The fae asks.
"Well, it can depend on a lot of things, but no. Usually it goes both ways." Yuu answers. "What? Feel bad about me being your personal masseuse?"
Malleus's gaze travels along the human in front of him. Here he is, in nothing but his sleeping bottoms while Yuu sits in an oversized long sleeve shirt and sleeping shorts that stretch around Yuu's thighs. "That is part of it."
"And the other part is?"
"Our bodies are quiet different." Malleus notes. "Perhaps I wish to study yours as well.
"Oh..." Yuu is silent for a moment, shrugs, and then pulls their shirt over their head. "Yeah, that's fair."
Malleus does his best to keep his face calm, biting his lip slightly to keep him grounded. Yuu's plush torso decorated in a kayer of dark hair. The fat on the human's chest look so perfect, as if the soft flesh could fit into Malleus's hands perfectly. The human's soft stomach that Malleus has laid his head against again and again. He can't help but imagine how it would look, bouncing back and forth as the fae buries his cock at a brutal pace into the human. Malleus holds the pillow closer to his lap.
"I know I'm not that impressive, but, if I get to touch you, it's fair for you to touch me."
"Child of man." Malleus reaches out and cups Yuu's cheek in his hand. "You are beautiful."
Now Yuu's ears are the ones dusted with pink. "You don't have to lie to make me feel better."
"I am not lying." Malleus runs his hand down Yuu's neck and rests at the center of the human's chest. "You find my scales and the inner workings of my muscles to be beautiful. Can I not find your hair and your soft flesh beautiful as well?"
"That's no really-" Yuu looks down and hesitates. "Most people don't. At least where I'm from."
"Then I am glad you are here. I hope I can make you see just how beautiful you are."
#twst writings#twst x reader#twst thots#twst smut#malleus x yuu#malleus x reader#masterlist#twst malleus#twst malleus smut
314 notes
·
View notes
Text
Forget Me Not (ii)
Requested: no
Summary: Jake struggles with coming to terms with new information from your doctor. Rooster and Phoenix try to convince him to tell you the truth.
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: Amnesia, memory loss, possibly inaccurate medical terminology, injury’s, plane crash, miscarriage, hospitals, angst.
Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x wife!reader
Previous part | Next part
“Lieutenant,” the man started, glancing down at his notes. “I regret to inform you,” He paused once more and Jake really wished that the man would just spit it out already. “Your wife was eight weeks pregnant. Unfortunately, there was nothing that could be done to save the baby.” Suddenly, Jake’s whole world came crashing down around him.
His knees dropped out from under him. Within seconds, Rooster was by his side, grabbing the large pilot before he could crash into the ground. The mustached aviator thanked the doctor quietly as he pulled Jake into him. As the older man stepped away, Jake’s breathing sped up. You were two months pregnant. With his baby. He had no idea and if you did, you probably didn’t even remember by now.
“Jake, you gotta tell me what’s goin’ on.” Bradley murmured as fat tears began rolling down Jake’s cheeks. He hated the fact that he was now crying in front of Bradley and Natasha but at the thought of his wife losing their baby, he couldn’t help it.
Holding him tightly, Bradley waited patiently for the pilot to explain what news the doctor had given him. “She was pregnant,” The pilot eventually choked out. Bradley couldn’t help but focus on the was. “She lost it in the crash. The doctor said that there was nothing that they could do to save it.” Sighing, Bradley squeezed his wingman tighter. He knew that the two of you had been trying to get pregnant ever since you got married. The two of you would make amazing parents, everyone was sure of it.
Now, Jake not only had to deal with the fact that he couldn’t tell you that you were married, he also couldn’t tell you that you were pregnant. He sniffled quietly in Bradley’s arms. Jake had no idea what he was going to do.
You woke up to the steady beeping of the heart monitor. Blinking slowly, you sat up on the squeaky bed and groaned as your joints cracked. A few moments passed as you sat in silence, mulling over everything that had happened since you woke up. You instantly thought of Jake. the man was so familiar and yet you couldn’t even remember him. It was driving you crazy.
Seconds later the same nurse from earlier walked in, interrupting your train of thought. She smiled at you kindly. “How are you feeling now, Dear?” The elderly woman questioned as she began taking your vitals. You watched her silently for a few seconds.
“A bit better,” You started. “My breathing is a little easier and my leg doesn’t hurt as bad,” You gestured toward your leg resting on the bed in a white cast. The nurse nodded, jotting down a few notes before informing you that she would be back later and moving to step out of your room. “Could you actually do me a favor ma’am?” You question shyly. She nodded, looking up and watching you patiently. “Could you please send Jake in?”
With a knowing smile, the elderly nurse nodded and stepped out of your room to fetch the pilot. There were butterflies fluttering all around your stomach as you willed yourself not to stare at the door. You didn’t know why you were so anxious to see him. The gentle knock on your door had your head turning so fast you almost got whiplash.
Jake was standing there with a hesitant look on his face. If you looked close enough, you could see the tear stains on his cheeks. You blushed slightly under his heavy gaze and patted the arm of the chair next to you. “How’re you feeling?” Jake questioned as he sat down on the plastic chair. At that moment you realized that he had spent four days waiting for you to wake up in that same uncomfortable plastic chair, and never complained one bit. Did you really mean that much to him?
“A bit better,” You started, noticing the small smile that rose on Jake’s face. “I still can’t remember anything, if that’s what you’re wondering.” That was all he could have wanted. You assumed that that was all he was worried about.
Immediately, the pilot began shaking his head. “That isn’t all I was asking. I really did want to know if you were okay,” Now it was your turn to smile, cheeks turning a crimson colour at the sincerity of his words. Jake grinned. He was glad that he could still make you smile like that. “I was wondering, if you’re feeling up to it,” He started. “If you would like to meet some friends?” He watched you carefully to gauge your reaction.
You sucked in a breath. Even though you were anxious to meet people that you may not even remember, you knew that it would need to happen eventually. For some reason, You trusted Jake. Part of you knew that he would never purposely put you in an uncomfortable position. You nodded and Jake smiled softly.
After a few last words, Jake stepped out of the room to retrieve Bradley and Natasha. You waited anxiously, plucking at a loose thread on the scratchy hospital sheets.
Phoenix had her head resting on Bradley’s shoulder as she watched him play Candy Crush. His thumb stopped moving across the screen when he heard someone approach them. Through sleepy eyes, Phoenix looked up at Jake. The two tired pilots waited for Jake to begin speaking. “She wants to see you two,” Without further explanation, they stood from the hard chair and followed Jake down the hall. He stopped them in front of your room. “Please, don’t say anything about us or the baby.” Jake practically pleaded with them. They nodded with sympathetic expressions.
When your door cracked open, your head shot up to watch who was going to walk in. Jake came in first, followed by a woman that looked oddly familiar, you just couldn’t remember her name. But you could remember seeing her at a navy bar one night. It was just after you were stationed in Lemoore. And then the second person walked in. You immediately recognized the mustache.
“Bradley?” Jake felt his stomach drop. You remembered Bradshaw, and yet you couldn’t remember your own husband. Bradley spoke your nickname quietly, looking at Jake for permission before sitting in that same uncomfortable chair. “Why,” You started, glancing between Bradley, the strange woman, and Jake. You couldn’t help but notice the empty look in his eyes and the white skin around his knuckles as he clenched his fists. “Why can I remember you and no one else?”
Bradley smiled at you gently. The two of you had been stationed overseas when you first met. It was only a few months before when you met your future husband. You and Bradley had instantly hit it off, and ever since then, he had thought of you as a little sister. “I think it's because we met first.” He was trying to communicate a silent message to Jake. The only reason that you could remember Bradley and not him was simply because you met first. Not because you cared about Bradley more than Jake.
Jake nodded to himself, knowing that whether he wanted to believe it or not, Bradley’s words were true. Seconds later, you were nodding as well.
Standing up, Bradley moved next to Phoenix, encouraging her to introduce herself. The female pilot had tears in her eyes. Over the past three years, ever since you met, the two of you had become best friends. She was your maid of honour when you got married to Jake. Even though you couldn’t remember it, she was there to hold your hair back when you were throwing up, she was there every time you anxiously took a pregnancy test, and she was there for you after each negative result. She knew you better than anyone and the same was true for you.
“My name’s Natasha,” She started. Her words were watery and she willed herself not to cry. “We met a few years ago in Lemoore and we’ve been best friends ever since.” Now you were almost in tears. You couldn’t believe that you had forgotten your own best friend.
Jake watched as you and Phoenix became reacquainted, the female pilot filling you in on all the crazy adventures you had over the past few years. There was a small smile on his face. He loved seeing you happy, and the bright grin on your face was the best sight he had seen in weeks. He shared a look with Bradley, silently thanking him for staying by his side throughout all of this. The two of them sat down on the other plastic chairs in the far corner of the room, watching you and Natasha laugh with soft smiles.
Everything seemed to be taking a turn for the better now. Given everything that happened yesterday, Jake was almost positive that things would never get better. He knew that eventually, he would have to tell you everything. But for now, he was only focused on the wide smile on your face. Maybe everything would be okay after all.
a/n: Thank you for reading! Stay tuned for future parts and let me know if you would like to be tagged! Requests are open <3
Tagging: @topguncultleader @soulmates8 @t0kyoreveng3rs @there-goes-thefighter @supercatgirl006 @blueoorchid @dempy @dreamgirl3300 @atarmychick007 @alexxavicry @bradleybeachbabe @chaoticassidy @ice-doc-val @nyx2021 @aviatorobsessed @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @natt-67 @angelbabyange @oliviah-25 @cassiemitchell @classyunknownlover @shelbycillian @khaylin27 @bruher @sunsetsimpsblog @lovelywiseprincess @fandom-life-12 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @emmza63 @cornishkat @iceman-kazansky @himbos-on-ice @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @wkndwlff @entertainmentgal8 @djs8891 @blackwidownat2814 @your-local-crzy-lady @dakotakazansky @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @memoriesat30 @sarahjoestewy-blog @butterscotchcookies @ducks118 @marvelouslyme96 @linkpk88 @missathlete31 @xoxabs88xox @hzstry8 @abbymwall @eternallyvenus @keileighr @rey26 @lt-spork
Join my taglist!
#top gun#top gun fanfiction#top gun x female reader#top gun x reader#top gun fluff#top gun maverick#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin#jake seresin imagine#jake hangman seresin x you#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x female!reader#jake seresin fic#jake seresin angst#jake seresin x you#jake x reader#jake hangman x y/n#top gun hangman#hangman fic#hangman#hangman angst#jake seresin moodboard#jake seresin x y/n#hangman fanfiction#hangman imagine#jake hangman fic#hangman x reader#hangman smut#hangman top gun
624 notes
·
View notes
Text
Vampire
Summary: You tell Miguel his truths and in return he shows you his.
Word count: 1.9k+
Warnings: none really:]
A/n: Hello everyone welcome to long awaited part 4 as well as the final part to this little series! thank you guys so much for loving it I truly can't express how grateful I am for all of you I hope you love this ending and I hope to you all again in my next story! Also I will be attaching the tag list to this chapter since hopefully that makes it a little easier to find everyone. I hope everyone enjoys.xx
Tag list
Parts: I II III IIII^
Credits to the owner^:)
It had been a week since you went back to HQ and you were starting to feel lighter.
In a way, telling Miguel your truth helped you get there.
Because now, you didn't have to keep thinking about the thought of what you’d say to him if you ever saw him again.
But you did see him again, and in your opinion, you said just the right things.
Suddenly you found yourself having more energy, listening to happier songs, and taking Milo on longer walks or fun adventures.
Things were finally starting to look up for you, so much so you actually thought about returning to the spider society to get back on fighting multiversal crime.
Right on queue Peter walks through the portal.
“You sure you wanna do this? You said you’d never come back.” he questioned remembering how he found you right after everything happened.
Thinking about it one more time, you smiled and turned on your suit.
“Yep, I'm just gonna lay low. Be a freelance spider with no commitment to a sector or anything you know?” you said reassuring yourself.
“Okay but I mean more like to get back in you’ll have to talk to Miguel. And he hasnt been in the best of moods lately.” he said watching as you walked.
Your smile only got wider as you made your way to the portal, for the first time you felt nothing.
No butterflies in your stomach and no heart beat skipping at the mention of his name.
Progress right?
Shrugging his shoulders Peter followed you in standing right beside you as you entered the busy hallways.
“Alright well I ‘ll leave you to it. I'm gonna take May Day to get her mid day nap.” he said walking away.
“See ya later Pete thanks for bringing me in.” you said waving him away.
As you made your way to Miguel's office you thought about what Pete said earlier, had he really been such a grump.
You’d think he’d be happier not having to deal with you.
But like always, nothing and no one could ever help that man no matter the case.
As you made your way up Miguel was practicing his speech with Lyla.
“... I didn’t mean what I said that day and if I knew the damage it would do I wouldn't have said it in the first place? Sounds stupid doesn't it?” he said, turning to face her.
“Yep, just like the first two times you said it. Miguel when you go find her you have to speak from the heart not from a piece of paper it just sounds so Scripted.” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Scripted? It's not scripted. I just think writing my thoughts down will help me pull it together.” he said huffing in frustration.
“How about this, you pretend im Y/n and tell me what you’d say, no notes just your thoughts. Right now.” she said sitting in a little AI chair she made for herself.
Thinking about it he just gave up.
“Okay but record it so I can take notes after.” he said, beginning to pace around the panel.
Sighing he began to get frustrated with himself, “Ay cono esto no esta sirviendo.” he said rubbing his face.
“Come on Miguel, get to it.” Lyla said, rushing him.
“This is stupid! Shes probably off with who ever the fuck Milo is having the time of her life because I , like the big fucking idiot I am, pushed her straight into his arms!” he said, at this point he was over the smashing and breaking things so he just leaned against his desk.
“It doesn't matter what I say anymore Lyla, She’ll never forgive me, she’ll never listen to me. I ‘ll never get to tell her that I love her and even if I did she’d never believe it because she thinks I am a big giant asshole.' ' he said lowering his voice as he got close to the end.
“But you know what? That Milo is one lucky soul, he gets to look into her eyes, make her smile, just simply be in her presence. He has everything I wish I had. Y/n.” he said, still looking down.
“ I was a vampire, sucking the life out of her and then just tossing her to the side like she meant nothing, when in reality she was fucking everything Lyla. Milo is one lucky guy.” he said, looking up at Lyla to see her smiling.
Confused by her reaction he was getting ready to ask.
“Milo is a dog, my dog.” you said, startling him.
“Dios mío (my god), Y/n? What are yo-what are you doing here.” he said, his heart practically racing out of his chest.
“Well I was here to ask for my place back in the society but I think I'm gonna go.. Yeah I'm gonna go.” you said as tears began to well up in your eyes.
There was no actual way you just heard all of that.
Looking between you and Lyla Miguel went after you.
“No no no wait just please.” he said, holding onto your arm.
Pulling back you felt anger, the audacity of this man.
“Who do you think you are? Huh? I was so in love with you Miguel! So stupidly in love with you because I thought you were this hero that helped everyone and you just needed someone to help you.” you said laughing to yourself.
“People told me to stay away from you, that you’d never accept the help or even my friendship. But I shook them off and thought they were crazy for not wanting to see through that rough surface you carried, but I did, I wanted to. I wanted to believe that I could break through and see the real you, but I realized there is no breaking through. That was it there was no surface, that's just who you are and it was all thanks to you. No one else helped me realize it, just you.” you said shoving a finger into his chest.
“And when I took that leap of faith and told you how I felt you kicked me to the curb, you bled me dry like a goddamn vampire. Because of you I almost gave it all up. I was so broken, so lost. All because I risked my place next to you and I lost it. But in reality I never had it. There was no place next you because you're Big bad Spiderman 2099 and you work better alone. Fine, work alone.” you said walking away, nope, not walking away you weren't done.
“ No you know what, it's not fair. You do not get to reject me and make me go through all of this to just turn around and say that you love me. You’re a vampire, Miguel O’hara. You just like to suck the life out of me and toss me to the side until you feel like using me again.” you said tears were beginning to fall.
“Y/n please, I never meant for you to feel like this, I just, I just want you to come back. I understand if what I said was too much but we need you here. I need you here.” he said, looking at you with soft eyes.
God he was making it difficult to walk away.
“If this is your way of getting some fucked up little thrill I wont do it, I wont.” you said looking at him with threatening eyes.
“ I know it's hard to believe what I‘m saying but could you atleast try? Dios mio mujer I‘m trying to confess my love for you and you're making it impossible!” he said, running his hands through his hair.
He fell for such a headstrong woman.
Looking at you again he decided to just go for it, “Oh fuck it.” he said looking at your lips.
“Wha-” before you could finish his lips were on yours and he was pulling you in for a passionate kiss.
Putting your hand against his chest you considered pulling away but as he cupped your face and pulled you closer your hands found themselves making their way to the back of his neck and pulling him closer.
Pulling away, Miguel continued to give you pecs allowing you to catch your breath.
“Believe me now?” he whispered.
“Mmmm, still a little skeptical.” you said smiling as he leaned back in smiling into the kiss.
“Aww aren't you two just the cutest? Lyla please tell me you got that.” you heard startling you as you pulled away.
“Yup, got it all.” she said pointing to the recording hologram, “So good.” she said smiling.
You tried to detach yourself from Miguel but he continued to hold you tightly by the waste.
So instead you opted for hiding into his chest and smiling.
“What do you need, Parker.” Miguel said as he looked at the walking interruption.
“My friend who came to see the walking grump was taking a little long just wanted to make sure she made it out alive.” he said, covering May Day's bright eyes.
“As you can see she is alive and well, you can go now.” he said, putting his attention back on you.
“Alright, im gone you kids be safe, take it slow.” he said jokingly.
“Peter!” you yelped turning a bright shade red.
“So, I'm a blood sucking vampire?If I knew any better I‘d think you have a thing for vampires amor.” he said as he kissed down your neck gently grazing you with his fangs.
Moving your head to give him more space you moved your hands into his hair and pulled at the roots.
“Just one.” you said smiling as he brought his lips back to yours.
“Good. Because this ones gonna do more than suck the life out of you.” he said as he pulled you back in for a kiss.
Smiling into the kiss you pulled away trying to control your laughter.
Confused by your reaction Miguel just watched.
“You were je-jealous of my dog?” you said trying to catch your breath.
Shoulder slumping Miguel hoped you wouldn't bring that up.
“You're not letting that go are you.” he said looking at the wall.
“Oh no, never I do have to admit, he is one handsome boy.” you said bursting out in laughter.
“Yeah yeah, whatever.” he said as he attempted to keep a straight face, hearing your laugh in his office again made it hard.
Finally, everything was how he wanted it.
You at his side, with a dog, but nonetheless at his side.
Now he just had to get Milo on his side too.
Did this mean he was a dog dad now?
“Wait Lyla did you know she was coming here?” he asked suddenly realizing that you just so happened to walk in at a perfect time.
“Yup, saw her on the surveillance footage and you were taking too long for my liking, you are welcome boss man.” she said, saluting him before disappearing.
Deciding to let it go he focused back on you, “worth it.”
Meanwhile Lyla was showing the other spiders the video collecting her winnings from the bets she placed.
“These damn AI’s always know everything.” Jess whispered under her breath.
She’d take it up with Miguel later, but for now… who knew he could be such a softy?
You did, more than ever now.
#marvel#multiverse#miguel spiderverse#miguel x you#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel x reader#across the spiderverse#miguel#spider-man 2099#marvel men#spiderman#miguel spiderman#miguel x y/n#oscar issac fic#atsv miguel#spiderman 2099#2099
711 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello
I live
Well, barely
OMG ISTG I JUST REREAD LIKE ALL OF YOUR FICS I'M GOING SGSJDGDJHFJDY
Your writing. I swear. It's so good. Like when I read any other alastor x reader fic I have this nasty voice in the back of my head going 'He wouldn't do this'. THAT DOESN'T HAPPEN HERE
You are a genius. (Thabk you for speepy Alastor coming from an insomniac is good praise, no?)
My personal favourites are
a. Either of the sleepy Alastoe fics (obviously)
b. Dry bed. Istg the writing in that.. Augh
Could you do a part two to Dry bed? Maybe they just wake up (Together!!!) and awkwardly get their way down to breakfast. Then they simply avoid each other all day, not talking, but still stealing glances at each other when the other isn't looking. Then reader finds Alastor chilling on the hotel roof the following night and they TALK about it. And figure things out.
Omg thabk you for listening to my rant I hope you are doing well byeeee
~❤✨
P. S. You and your fics are my new hyperfixation
hello!!!!! in general sorry yall for my absence, finals are literally next week so it Will happen again
im so glad u like my depiction of alastor hes literally so annoying to write... a dry bed is honestly probably one of if not THE fave fic ive written (though might be a tie with mourning dove) so i hope part ii does it a bit of justice (,: i kind of deviated from ur request at the beginning (they dont wake up together >_<) but otherwise i hope u enjoy! hopefully its not too obvious i kind of rushed it
mwah! <3
A Warm Bed
(sequel to A Dry Bed)
Alastor x Reader (hurt/comfort, fluff)
TW: none really, alastor is probs ooc but who cares
join my discord!
═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══
It felt a little bit too cold when you woke up, but you couldn’t immediately find a reason why. Your eyes squinted open, facing the curtains that were drawn just enough to where a peek of the morning light rudely shone against your face. You turned over with a dissatisfied groan.
Peering at the empty bed beside you, you stared blankly as wheels began to turn in your mind. It only took a few seconds to remember the previous night, and your face quickly warned as you hissed in a breath through clenched teeth, wrists coming up and rubbing your eyes with a sense of dismay.
Man, what were you thinking. You felt a strong mixture of regret and embarrassment but also… you felt lonely. The strong, strange affection from Alastor the previous night directly compared to him disappearing and leaving you alone in the morning made you feel all the more cold. The room also had an uncomfortable silence to it, but at the same time too loud with the hum of your ceiling fan.
Whatever, you feigned indifference to yourself and lifted yourself from your mattress, legs dangling over the side of your bed for a few moments, allowing yourself to get a quick stretch in before sliding on some comfortable slippers while you went to your restroom, protecting your feet against the cold tile.
You quickly freshened up, pulling on some comfortable loungewear before leaving your hotel room and walking down the long corridor that led to the steps. Maybe it was just your current mood, but the ambience was too quiet and uncomfortable.
Your spirits slowly lifted as you made your way down the steps, and you could hear the faint clashing of kitchen tools being dropped and thrown, alongside unintelligible and arguing voices, one doubtlessly being Vaggie trying to tame—or, no, threaten—the chaos.
The air, at the very least, smelled good despite the racquet. Though you were in Hell, the food was still appetizing—even if you weren’t exactly sure what it was half the time.
You must’ve made it just in time, as right when you turned the corner you nearly hit your head against Charlie’s shoulder as she rounded the same corner. You tripped over each other for a moment before she ultimately steadied you with a hand and a breezy laugh.
"Good morning! I was just about to tell everyone breakfast was ready…” You smiled at her gesture. Every morning she tried to host some sort of typical continental style breakfast that was standard for most hotels—that is if Niffty’s behavior permitted a successful morning—and the quality was usually higher than what you remembered in your time alive. Of course, you were dealing with the Princess of Hell, who obviously wouldn’t want anything mediocre for her treasured guests.
“Thank you,” was all you could offer in return before she passed you, doubtlessly to gently announce the food to the other guests. There had been an increase in residents lately, so you weren’t shocked at the piles of delicious looking food that met your eyes when you stepped into the kitchen. You could practically imagine sparkles dancing around the fluffy pancakes and still sizzling pans of various breakfast meats.
You helped yourself to a meal, carefully stepping around the growing crowd of other guests, who all, for the most part, seemed a little aggravated at being woken up but nonetheless pleased at the free meal.
A brief hush filled the room as the air seemed to get just a bit heavier, more ominous, alongside the new presence of a prickling against your skin. You didn’t have to look up, nor did you even want to look up, to know who the culprit of such a suffocated atmosphere was; you knew him well enough.
The kitchen slowly came back to life, albeit a bit stiffer and with quieter conversation. You kept your eyes glued to your plate of food as you made your way towards the dining area. As you passed through the entrance, out of your peripheral you saw the large, looming figure of the demon you had become unnaturally attached to. You didn’t look up or even acknowledge him, pretending to just not notice, but you could swear you felt his red gaze burning a hole in your skin.
A few minutes passed after you sat down before Alastor joined you, sitting in his unofficial assigned seat. The only difference was he didn’t scoot his chair nearly as close as usual, as well as the way his body was turned just slightly so that his back was facing you. Not enough to be noticed by other people, but just enough for you—though, maybe you were just overanalyzing things?—to notice how he was pointedly uninviting you from any interactions with him.
Why even bother coming to breakfast, you thought coldly to yourself, deciding to just feel mad about it instead of stewing in your own self-hate and regret. You had already spent all morning feeling stupid for the night before. It’s not like you even eat this shit. Go eat a dead deer or something.
Your fork poked aggressively against the food on your plate, head propped up against a fist as you mindlessly scooted the food around in a pool of syrup. You hoped to convey some sense of hatred to the demon next to you as you jammed a fluffy bite of pancake into your mouth—oh, that’s so good, your spirits were lifted just a bit as the slightly sweet and buttery pancake touched your tongue.
A hand touched your back, and you jolted in surprise. Naturally your eyes first went to Alastor next to you, thinking maybe he was finally over himself, but he had his hands folded on the table in front of him as he watched another table argue over something probably meaningless. Maybe you’re crazy, but did you see his eyes flick to your just as you looked away? You shook off the idea.
Vaggie sat to your right, and was currently eyeing you with a hint of concern in her eye. You shrugged off her hand as politely as possible before smiling at her with a raised eyebrow, trying to play it off with an ‘I’m alright.’
“People that are ‘alright’ don’t usually have some personal vendetta against a plate of breakfast food,” She said in a low voice, trying to keep your conversation private, particularly from a certain set of prying, fluffy red ears. “You know you have friends here. Especially Charlie.”
“Really, I’m all good, just… long morning,” You did your best to wave away her worries again, suddenly feeling a little childish. From the way she spoke, you would think she was talking to someone going through something serious—you were just having some guy problems.
It seemed to work well enough, because after looking at you for a few more beats she raised her hand and turned away, picking up a conversation with her girlfriend. You sat in your spot for a few more minutes, but the growing anxiety from silently and awkwardly sitting next to Alastor, sifting through so many racing thoughts and doubts, gnawed at your stomach. You finally stood up and excused yourself with a thank you and left the room.
You had no specific place to be, so you just wandered into the lobby and slumped against a couch. You briefly wondered where Angel was; he was surprisingly good at listening to romantic troubles, though honestly you probably wouldn’t divulge your whole “thing” with Alastor. That would probably meet no welcomed response.
You must have dozed off, because the sudden sound of raised voices startled your eyes open. Arguments and general anger were commonplace here, so you weren’t particularly shocked to find Vaggie and Angel Dust going at it about something regarding his behavior and the Hotel—a recurring theme in their conversations. Vaggie’s words fell on deaf ears as Angel tutted at her words with a waving and dismissive hand.
“I’m sure ninety percent of these guests would love to have a piece’a me!” He said, taking long strides across the room as he fixed up his chest fluff with two hands. He leaned his hip against the large chair that, much to your dismay, sat Alastor, his grin tightening as Angel approached. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as the spider laid his torso across the head of the chair.
“Even this one…” Angel said with a pouty lilt in his voice, finger dragging up the embellishments as he tried to play flirty. Alastor clicked his tongue distastefully in response before he stood up, hands folding neatly across the top of his cane.
“Not quite to my taste, thank you!” He said, looking down at Angel with an ugly curl in his lip. Angel only huffed in response before slinking down the back of the chair and taking up the space where Alastor previously sat, leaving said demon just standing there.
Alastor’s eyes glanced at you, so brief that you honestly may have imagined it, before he simply hummed with closed eyes and melted into the ground, the shadow where he once stood inking across the carpet before finally coming to a rest… behind the couch where you were laying. You grimaced as you felt his presence manifest again, sending a ripple of that familiar prickle down your bare arms.
Was this going to be your eternity now? Playing some game of cat and mouse where you have to leave every room you’re in just because Alastor gets too close for comfort? You turned your head to try to get a look at him from the corner of your eye, but immediately looked away again when you saw he was already looking at you. You couldn’t read his expression.
You sat up and thought for a few moments. Honestly, it was probably best to just go spend a depression day alone in your room. As pushy as Alastor could be, he wasn’t typically the type to barge into rooms without invitation.
Slowly standing, you managed to avoid the attention of the couple of others in the room—though, realistically, none would care if they happened to see you leave; you were just on edge to everyone and everything. You quickly made your way up the stairs, frowning down at your feet as you walked. You shot a sideways glance at Alastor as you rounded a turn in the steps, finally meeting his gaze for a few seconds before your view was blocked by the wall.
You sighed as you found yourself in front of your hotel room, a heavy feeling making you suddenly choke up. You ushered yourself into the room before you embarrassed yourself by crying openly in the hallway, but the comforting solitude of your room as you leaned your back against the door to close it made it a bit easier to breathe.
After ensuring the door was locked, you went to stand at the edge of the bed, frowning down at the still unmade sheets. Thoughts of that tender night came to the front of your mind at full force, and you bit your lip anxiously. The warmth of his body against yours, the tangle of legs and soft touches of lips… was it all actually, in a cruel turn of reality, a fake expression of care from him? When you had finally begun to think you could read the affection on his face…
You settled into the soft mattress, uncomfortably aware of how big and cold it was. You were no stranger to sleeping alone by any means, but after finally experiencing the shared space with someone you loved, the contrast was stark and unwelcomed. You did your best to ignore it as you tucked yourself in, letting your eyes fall shut in a poor attempt to sleep away your worries.
Your attempts were unsuccessful, and an empty feeling of longing and despair in your stomach grew stronger with each hour that passed as you watched the red hue of the daylight sky turn darker. You felt both restless and tired at the same time, lacking any energy to actually do anything to pass the time.
It all proved to be counterintuitive to the whole “sleep your worries away” as the hours you spent just lying down only gave you ample opportunity to melt in your own thoughts as the memories of last night kept returning. Man, why did you have to kiss him? You unwittingly ignored the fact that he had also played a part in closing that gap between you; you were honestly just pinning the blame fully on yourself.
Finally sick of stewing in misery, you kicked off the heavy blanket and stood up. You needed some fresh air.
You tried to walk quickly with a fake sense of purpose so, in the odd chance you passed someone, they hopefully wouldn’t ask about your absence all day—you were typically more present and friendly with everybody as you would often help Charlie with event organization. Lucky enough for you, you passed nobody on your way to the door that opened to some stairs up to the roof of the Hotel.
After a quick pace up the echoey, metal steps, you pushed open the large doors and greeted with a pleasantly cool rush of wind. It was still warm, of course, being Hell and all, but cooler than usual. You quietly closed the heavy doors behind you.
There was a spot on the roof you typically sat at during long, restless nights, and you turned the corner of the door before promptly backtracking and pressing yourself up against the metal door once again, jaw clenched in a mix of shock and anger.
Why the Hell was Alastor on the roof at your spot with your blanket that you had left up here on some previous night? Was he doing all this on purpose? Constantly getting all too close to you while simultaneously acting cool and indifferent towards your existence? Was this all just some sick game to him? Well… it is Alastor.
You peeked over the edge from where you hid to get a better look at him. He sat serenely with his back towards you, legs hanging over the edge of the roof. You couldn’t see his expression, but his body waved just slightly, most likely to the tune of some song in his head. Despite all the frustration you felt in your soul towards him, looking at him under the blanket of a dark red sky with a sprinkling of stars… he still endeared you. Especially when he looked so harmless and relaxed.
Just as you were about to turn away again and find somewhere else to relax, he cleared his throat, stopping you before you could even move.
“It’s rude to stare,” He stated, projecting his voice just enough for you to hear the light humor in his voice. “You seem like a stalker, darling!”
You straightened your shoulders before walking out from behind the wall, a frown on your face. You didn’t walk any closer—God forbid you accidentally do anything to hurt your relationship anymore, if that was even possible.
“I didn’t mean to, I was just… surprised, that’s all,” You reasoned, tapping your foot impatiently. “You are kind of in my spot.”
He hummed, absently pointing at the surface around him. “I didn’t see your name on it.”
You couldn’t really think of a response quickly, so you just stayed quiet, continuing to just stand in place a few meters away from Alastor.
He briefly put his hand down on the space next to him, patting twice in a vague invitation for you to join him. You thought for a brief moment before cautiously walking towards him, steps growing slower with each foot you got closer. He made no move to send you away—in fact, he even started moving the blanket in a way to make the concrete just a bit more comfortable to sit on. He still didn’t look at you.
Embarrassingly your hands had started to shake, which you realized when you reached your hand down to support your body as you lowered it to sit. You just hoped Alastor didn’t notice. You let your legs fall over the ledge, swinging slightly next to Alastor’s. You didn’t notice how he shifted his knee a bit closer to yours.
The two of you sat in silence under the still-darkening sky, and you couldn’t decide if it was a comfortable or awkward silence. Alastor didn’t seem to mind, so you tried to convince yourself it was comfortable despite the itching anxiety in your chest.
“I’m really sorry about last night,” You blurted out, unable to contain it anymore. Was it a bad idea to even bring it up? Maybe. But you felt that your relationship was already irreparably damaged so it couldn’t hurt to at least apologize. You saw his eyes turn towards you out of your peripheral, and you were too ashamed to meet his look, instead opting to fiddle with a fray of the blanket edge.
“Whatever for?” He responded after an uncomfortably long pause—this stunned you. Fuck you mean ‘whatever for?’ Your head whipped up to look at him, brows furrowed.
You had spent all die scared that you ruined everything between you and Alastor, regretting everything that led up to last night’s events—it didn’t help that Alastor himself was also blatantly avoiding you. What the fuck is he acting so confused for?
Apparently you said that all out loud, as Alastor’s smile was growing more and more strained with each loud word that tumbled from your lips. You didn’t even realize until you were done and catching your breath, but at this point you couldn’t care less to apologize or feel bad about it. You folded your arms and fixated your eyes on some random pedestrian below as another long stretch of silence filled the air.
“You confuse me,” He finally said, with a voice that lacked its usual radio tone. You didn’t respond, so he continued. “I feel these alien emotions when I’m near you—you bewitch me. And I don’t like it. I hate you for it.”
You couldn’t control the slight slump in your shoulders and the sharp pang in your stomach that his words brought you. Hate.
“But… I kill the demons I hate,” He said, looking away from you and up at the sky. “And I can’t find myself wanting to kill you. That has to mean something, though I’m really no man to figure it out myself.”
You cautiously returned your eyes back to him, shoulders curled forward as if to protect yourself against the blow of any harsh words. But, as he spoke, you felt that anxiety slowly lighten as you pieced together what he was trying to convey in his own strange way. Although, you weren’t really sure what to say in response, filled with too many swarming emotions—both new and old.
Suddenly you looked at the space between the two of you—was Alastor’s hand there just a minute ago? You looked up to try to get any hint of his goals; but, unsurprisingly, he remained unreadable. It was definitely safer to just ignore it.
Well, that got a lot harder when his pinkie finger stretched towards you just a bit, practically inviting you. You looked at his face one more time, swallowed your fear, and tenderly laid your hand down next to his. You moved it cautiously closer, just enough so that your pinkie touched his own. His lifted up and curled over yours, tightening in a way to bring the rest of your hand closer and enveloping it with his own. Your gaze was fixated on this exchange and you felt heat warm your cheeks and ears.
You both said nothing, but you thought the pounding in your ears would drown out any attempt.
Your attention finally broke from the hands that now clasped together between the two of you, turning up towards Alastor. You found that he had been looking at you with such an intensity it made you feel like an open book before him. His eyes had a slight glow to them now that the sky had fully darkened—eyes that were usually so malicious and secretive seemed to now burn with what you could only assume was affection.
“I can’t promise I’ll be a good man,” He finally broke the silence. His smile was small but strained, and his voice uncharacteristically quiet.
In response you shook your head with a breathless laugh, tightening your hand just slightly around his as you focused on the street below, watching the scattered presence of night owl demons.
“I probably couldn’t promise the same, either,” You admitted, leaning back and stretching out your legs in the open air over the ledge of the roof. You froze momentarily when Alastor shifted a bit closer, his knee now barely knocking against yours.
He reached his hand out, fingers curling gingerly but firm over your chin and pulling your face closer to his. He examined your face for a moment, red eyes trailing over every curve of your features before settling back to look into your eyes.
“But I can promise, cher,” The new name he referred to you as made the already present flush in your cheeks only intensify. “That as long as you own what’s left of my heart, no demon in Hell can keep you away from me. Not even you.”
His words were spoken almost like a threat in an ominously low tone, that heavy radio affliction dripping from his words. In his eyes was a sudden look of sinister intensity and devotion, something you had never even dreamed of seeing, especially from him and especially towards you. As menacing as the words seemed, you couldn’t stop the wry smirk that inched up your lips, slightly smushed between his fingers that still firmly held your head in place.
“I’d like to see anyone try,” You responded in an attempt to match his energy. This seemed good enough for him, as his smile lifted for a moment as he released you from his grasp and faced forward again.
You yawned and stretched out your arms above your head, popping a few bones in your back before you stood. He followed suit, deftly touching his clothes with one hand to smooth any wrinkles or crooked buttons—his other was still holding your own.
He stepped closer, nearly pressed against you, when suddenly the atmosphere around you seemed to melt in a swirl of black before being replaced with the familiar decor of your hotel room. He gave you a light nudge and you fell back onto the bed.
After recuperating and settling, you watched him from your spot on the bed as he draped off his coat and slacks before joining you in the sheets. His body language was tense and unsure, but to your own pleasure the stiffness in his shoulders lightened just a bit when your hands tenderly rubbed against his skin.
The bed that was only hours before too big and too cold was now inviting with the warmth of Alastor’s body against your own, his scent filling your nose with every inhale as his hair brushed against your cheek. Every movement was a shaky blur as you were still filled with a sense of disbelief and maybe a little bit of adrenaline from the unexpected switch-up from him. The mattress dipped and creaked as he tried to make himself comfortable, which took an awkward few seconds, but after finally settling in you found yourself laid against his chest, fingers trailing down his skin.
Alastor’s own clawed fingers trailed through your hair and he hummed the quietest tune, lulling you further into an exhaustion that you didn’t realize had been creeping up on you. You fell asleep to a comfort that you hoped you wouldn’t have to spend another day in eternity without.
#ohdeerfully#❤✨#hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#alastor#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#fluff#alastor x you#hurt/comfort#alastor fluff#not proofread#like usual#el oh el
103 notes
·
View notes
Text
Professor Castle II
Frank Castle x F!Reader
Summary: Frank takes you to Curtis' wedding in Florida as his date.
CW: 18+. Explicit, Smut, Angst, Romance, Fluff, Vaginal Sex, Fingering, Mutual Masturbation, Kissing, Feelings, Age Gap, Professor/Student relationship.
Word Count: 6.5k
— Links: First Part // AO3.
A/N: I wasn't planning on adding another part to this, but this idea came to me as I was finishing the first one and I had to write it. There are a lot of mixed feelings and romance and smut. And we also get to know how reader and Frank got together in the first place. Billy and Dinah have a significant appearance here, and Billy is kind of a bitch. I can never bring myself to see him in a better light, even in an au like this.
It's Friday afternoon, after a hectic day of work and classes, that you get on a flight to Florida to accompany Frank to one of his best friends’ wedding.
It feels like a pretty surreal experience that he wanted you to come along, and that you also said yes. The last time you were invited to a wedding you were probably eleven or twelve and were seated at the kids’ table. Going to an affair like this as an adult with your very grown-up, secretive boyfriend feels like skydiving with no parachute.
It's already dark by the time the plane lands in the evening. The knot in your stomach tightens as you get off the plane. You were already nervous before taking off. Once your feet touch ground in Florida you wish you had a longer flight. It all happened so fast you didn't have time to prepare yourself for the idea of meeting Frank's friends. It's basically like meeting his family. Whenever you've heard stories about Billy or Curtis, he always talked about them as if they were blood brothers. So the whole thing becomes more scary the closer you get to the hotel.
There's a sudden shift during that half an hour ride to your destination. Internally, you feel like you still should hide your relationship with Frank, but he's been holding your hand the entire way there. You can't bring yourself to process how good it feels not having to care about if someone might see you or not. For months, being constantly alert is all you've done. It was exciting at first, but not as much as having his big paw holding your hand out in the open while the shuttle driver asks if you're here on vacation.
The building you arrive in sits so close to the ocean you can hear the waves crashing on shore and smell the fresh saltwater lingering in the air before you get out of the vehicle.
Once you've checked in, you get to a lovely room on the third floor with a view to the pool where a group of people enjoy an evening dive. You open the door to the balcony to let the air in, while Frank checks the rest of the room.
“Are you okay, baby?” Asks Frank as you lean on the railing outside.
“Yeah, just a little tired.”
“Well, there's a bed right here.” He points out before opening his suitcase on the mattress to take out his suit.
“It looks like a nice bed.” Glancing over your shoulder, you watch Frank straightening the fabric before hanging it in the closet.
When he's done, he joins you on the balcony, linking his arms around your waist.
“Should we go out to dinner or stay and order room service?” He softly kisses your nape.
“Hm, I'm fine with either. What do you wanna do?”
“Well, It'd be nice to go out since we never get to do that. But on the other hand, we haven't been really alone for a couple of weeks, and I was really looking forward to having you all for myself tonight.”
“It's still early, my king. We can do both.” You tuck your arm back to caress his jaw.
“Yeah? I thought you were tired.”
“I'm also hungry. Let me change and get rid of the airplane smell, and we'll go exploring.”
You unpack your suitcase and hang the outfits you picked for the next couple of days next to Frank's, which is such a bizarre thing to do. It's going to be an interesting weekend without having to put much thought into the secrecy of your relationship. Something as simple as just holding hands or letting your clothes live next to his, even if it's just temporary, makes you feel that normalcy most couples have. You wonder if this is what the future holds for you and Frank. It begs to question if this is the future you want with Frank.
Both of you freshen up and change into clean clothes. You slip into a long skirt with a halter top in your favorite color and a pair of sandals while Frank dons a pair of black chinos and a brown polo shirt.
Heading downstairs you go straight to the restaurant, sit at the bar and order some drinks first while you wait for a table.
“What?” you're chewing on the end of a straw when you notice Frank stare weirdly fixed on you. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No, you’re perfect.” His gaze beams full of wonder. “I just… Look at you. You're so beautiful. I can't believe you're here with me. I thought we'd never get to be out like this.”
“It’s kinda weird, isn’t it? But in a good way.”
“Yeah. C’mere,” his hand slides along your jaw and stops at your nape. A flick of his tongue swipes his lips before planting a wet one on your mouth. It lingers for a moment before diving for a deeper taste. It takes you off guard, and you almost want to pull back as soon as the tip of his tongue escapes past your teeth. It’s when it tries to meet with yours that you awkwardly pull your head back. His palm massages the back of your neck as you press your forehead against his, feeling a pang of sadness thrum in your chest.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?”
Your head slightly shakes, as you look down at your hands holding his forearm on your lap.
“I just… I feel like everyone is staring at us.”
“Let’em.”
“Frank.”
“Baby, I’m serious. Nobody is watching us. Look around,” his hold loosens around your neck and your head swivels to see that in fact no one is interested in whatever you and Frank do. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with an old man like me?”
“You’re not that old.”
“That wasn’t a no.”
“I’m not embarrassed to be with you, Frank. I… I wish we could do this all the time like normal people do. It feels like after this weekend, we’ll never get to do this ever again. I know we just got here, and I’m just being dramatic, you don’t have to say it. But uh… it makes me sad we can’t go out like this at home.”
“Baby, I get it. I wish I could have you like all the damn time. It breaks my heart to see you every day and have to remind myself not to look at you or touch you or kiss you.”
“Sorry for bringing you down with me. It's been a long day. And being here with you is a little overwhelming. It's brought a lot of stuff to the surface I never even considered before. I see it comes out so natural for you to do something like holding my hand or kissing me, and I feel bad that there’s this weird thing blocking me from enjoying that.”
“Hey, don't apologize.” Frank sighs before gently pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I'm the one who's sorry for not realizing sooner that this was a bigger deal for you than I thought. I just wanted you here so badly, I didn't think what this meant for you– for us. How about we go back to the room, order something, put on a movie and take it slow.”
“No, it's okay. I'll be fine. I wanna get used to this. I wanna be here with you, Frank.”
“Yeah?”
Drawing a smile, you simply nod and squeeze his hand a little harder.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“A couple of times. It doesn’t hurt to hear it again.”
Your lips pull up a little higher, as you lean forward to attempt to resume the kiss he started.
“Mr. Castle.” The restaurant’s hostess interrupts you just as you press your lips against his. “Your table is ready.”
She guides you to a table by the window with a view to the beach.
“Your waiter will be right over,” she politely says before going to fetch more people to place at the empty tables.
Despite being still a little nervous about the whole thing, you’re so over the moon with Frank, that it's easy to relax more and more in his presence. He knows how to smooth things over with just a few sweet words or an adoring glance framed by those glasses that really show the beauty of his eyes. You never thought he'd be this casual and forward when it came to showing public displays of affection. You're both overly cautious, but here, it's like he's flipped a switch in his head and all his problems are gone. Despite his impromptu decision the other day when he tried to break up with you, it feels like he's been dying to be able to show the world that you're his, and he is yours. You adore that about him and try to ease your mind into being more present right here and let go of all those worries that sadden your heart. Even if it's just for two days, you should be able to enjoy what you got.
By the end of your meal, you’re halfway through your dessert when a couple approaches the table.
“Hey, Frankie!” Billy, who you recognized from one of Frank’s pictures, makes him stand from his seat to give him a hug.
“Bill,” he addresses him before looking at the woman by his side. “Hey, Dinah. Good to see you again.”
“Yeah, good to see you, too.”
“And you must be the mystery woman Frank never told us about until a couple of days ago,” Billy directs his attention to you as you extend your hand in his direction.
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”
“Oh, she’s funny.”
“You have no idea.”
They both shake your hand as Frank sits back down.
“Thought you were going to turn in early like the rest of the party.”
“That was the plan, but we decided at the last minute to come down. You guys wanna join us?”
“No, we’re going to this swing by this bar down the street. You should come.”
“We've already had a couple of drinks,” Frank says. “We were about to call it a night.”
“C’mon, just a nightcap. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you. And you just can’t bring a date to Curt’s wedding and not properly introduce her like she deserves.”
Frank glances at you and shrugs, “you wanna go?”
“Just one drink?”
“Just one drink,” Billy repeats. “I mean if you’re old enough to drink.”
He says so casually it throws you off, but you’re quick to reply when you’re nervous.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that but yes, I’m old enough to drink.” You prove it by lifting the almost empty cocktail glass from the table and bring it to your mouth to finish it.
He mimes his fingers zipping his mouth as Dinah gives him a look and Frank hangs his head down.
Once the momentary awkwardness has passed you choose to follow them down the boardwalk to a crowded bar at the end of the street. You take a table outside and order some drinks. You go for another cocktail, the guys have a couple of beers and Dinah settles for scotch on the rocks.
“So, Frankie here has strictly forbidden us to ask you questions. What is he trying to hide?” Billy stares at you from the other couch with his elbows leaned on his knees.
“I didn't say that. I only asked you to not give her the third degree.” He scoffs.
“It's okay.” You laugh, placing a palm at the small of Frank's back. “What do you wanna know?”
While Billy questions you about your life, where you come from, what you’re majoring in, what your hobbies are… Frank tries to remain not too bothered but often chimes in to say – you don’t have to answer that, when Billy pokes into something way too personal.
Almost through with your cocktail you stand up and head to the bathroom and Dinah stalks behind you.
“Didn’t realize you were coming too,” you say when you notice her holding the door after you step into the room.
“Yeah, I needed a break from hearing Billy talk. Don’t mind him, he always had a big mouth. It’s pathological, but he’s harmless… for the most part.”
“He’s… intense,” you say for the lack of a better word. “How long have you two been together?”
“Oh, we’re not together together. We just hang out sometimes.”
“You could’ve fooled me.” You lean on one of the sinks while Dinah fixes her makeup.
“How long have you been dating Frank?”
“Hm, almost a year.”
“You know, I dated a teacher once at the academy, but it was nothing like you and Frank.”
“How so?”
“He didn’t take me as a plus-one to a wedding for starters. It was just sex. I can see that it’s more for you and Frank. Is it?”
“I uhh… I think it is. It’s crazy that he invited me here.”
“Yeah, he’s been moping around for a couple of years since his last girlfriend. It’s good that he has you now. How did that happen?”
You can see that Dinah and Billy have more in common than she lets on. They definitely share the same hunger to gather information from anyone. You don’t mind them poking around to know more about you. It’s actually refreshing being able to talk about you and Frank for the first time, and if Frank has told them about you, it means that he trusts them.
“Well, it’s not an interesting story. We didn’t fall in love at first sight, or shared longing glances across hallways, or pass secret notes, and shit. He uh… we used to go to the same café outside campus that has the best coffee. One day I saw him trying to pay with his phone cause he forgot his wallet, and it wasn’t working cause he’s technologically inept to handle any app. So I paid for his coffee. The next day he paid for mine and I helped him manage his digital wallet. We started taking more and more outside class. We would walk together back to campus. Over time, it took us longer and longer to make it back. We would stop at this park to look at the ducks in the lake. Sometimes we fed them to stall. Though neither of us gave a shit about the ducks-”
“Of course,” Dinah softly smiles at your remark.
“Then I’d tell him I’d be at this art show, or go to this movie, whatever shit I was doing, hoping he’d show up, and he did. It was like that for months, one day we looked at the other, and we knew… I guess we fell in love. And at the same time we realized that we couldn’t see each other like that anymore. So we stopped hanging out. That lasted like three weeks tops. We were both miserable.”
“And then what happened?”
“I… it was the end of the semester, before finals, I had my first play, and he came to see it.”
“He came to see you.” She accurately points out.
“Right. Once it was over, he went backstage to say hi to everyone. I… before he left I said to him to wait for me in his car and he did. After everyone left, I headed out to the parking lot, got in the passenger seat and told him to drive. We talked for hours, trying to convince ourselves once more that we couldn't be together, that I'd never work, but it didn't matter. We made a choice and now here we are. We’ve been hiding for months and it…”
“It finally feels right to say it out loud.”
“I think so… I can’t tell anyone else in my life right now. It’s hard to trust anyone with a secret like that. But if Frank told you I guess I can trust you.”
“You can. I get it. Sometimes you can't choose who you fall in love with.”
“How come something that’s supposed to be wrong feels so right at the same time?” You’ve been wondering for months.
“That’s a complicated question, sweetie. But it’s usually the things that are supposed to be wrong that feel the best, unfortunately.”
Meanwhile, outside, Billy grills Frank a little more about you on a totally different approach than Dinah’s.
“C’mon, Frankie. You can’t be serious. You know you could lose your tenure if they find out.”
“They’re not going to find out.”
“If it was just sex I’d get it. I’ve had my fair share of coeds. The difference is that I’m not their teacher, well, sometimes they like to pretend that I am, if you know what I mean. But you’re bringing her to Curt’s wedding, as your date. That’s nuts.”
“Why is it so hard to believe that I love her?”
“Cause you haven’t been with anyone since Maria and the first person you date is one of your students. Does it sound sane to you? Are you having a midlife crisis or something?”
“You know, out of everyone, I thought you'd be the last one to judge, Bill.”
“I'm not judging you, Frankie. I'm just checking that you haven't completely lost your mind. Someone has to. You look like you're willing to risk it all out for her. Is she worth all that, your job, your reputation, your precious principles? I thought you had a code.”
���She's absolutely worth all that. Can you say the same about Dinah? When are you going to stop playing with her?”
“Me? She's the one who calls the shots. She's the one playing with me.”
“Yeah, sure.” Frank scoffs before taking a swallow of his beer.
“Okay, let's just say it's a game we both love playing. I use her, she uses me, it's a win-win situation.”
“Until someone gets hurt.”
“Well, some people like that. How are you keeping up with her?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean bed wise. I know from experience that twenty-year-olds are like feral cats. Can you handle something like that?”
“Jesus, Bill. You're fucking disgusting sometimes. Don't talk about her like that.”
“What? Have you forgotten how you were at her age? You were either fucking or thinking about fucking.”
“Not everything is about sex.”
“Right, so you're not having sex.”
“That's none of your business.”
“Well, if you're so willing to put your ass in the line, I hope you're getting at least something out of it.”
“That's all that is for you, huh? You never do anything unless you're getting something in return. Everyone and everything is trading businesses for you. Even love.”
“Love is for children, Frankie. Never did anything good for anyone. Look at you… Every woman that ever touched you left a deeper mark than the last one. I’d rather be shot a hundred times than having to carry imaginary scars. What do you think is gonna happen when she's done with you? You think a girl like that is ready to commit forever?”
“You're so full of shit, Bill. You talk big game, but you never made it past the side lines. If that's where you wanna stay there, fine, but don't pretend you know how it feels to put yourself out there and offer yourself without expecting anyone to hand everything to you right away.”
“You used to be more fun.”
“Well, your idea of fun is different from mine.”
“Hey, what did we miss?”
Dinah and you return to the table that seems to have gathered a visible dark cloud over them.
“Nothing, get your stuff. We're going back to the hotel.” Frank barks, promptly rising from his chair.
“Are you ready to tell me what happened between you and Billy?” you straddle Frank's lap on the bed. He's taken off his glasses and most of his clothes and the only thing left is his boxer briefs. You tried to pry on the way back here, but he was clearly still upset about something. Now that he's more relaxed you try again while you comb his hair with your fingers. “Was he mean to you? Do you want me to kick his bony ass?”
“I'd like to see that,” he chuckles as his palms smooth the bare skin of your thighs. “There's nothing to tell, sweetheart. He's just an asshole sometimes. I'll get over it. C'mere.”
He tucks a finger under your chin and pulls your face closer so he can seize your lips. You can tell he's trying to distract you from asking further questions but if he's not ready to talk about it then there's nothing you can't do right now. You happily accept his affection and quickly melt in the slow undoing of his tongue as it finds yours. It's easy to forget and forgive when he has you like this. All rational thought abandons you and suddenly your hips are grinding against him, following the same rhythm as his tongue as it becomes more eager to please you. His hands hold tight to your hips, coaxing you to feel him growing hard between those layers of underwear keeping your flesh from coming to close contact.
“God, I've been dying to have you like this, sweetheart,” his breathing falters between sloppy kisses.
“I know.” You break from his mouth and press your forehead against his, gazing down at the spot where your centers rub together to see his cock bulging up like mad.
Frank gets a hold of your top and swiftly pulls it over your head so he can kiss your tits. He buries his face in your chest while your arm curls around his nape. He's all tongue, teeth, and lips inciting your skin to come alive into tiny pimples. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, hums around it, and bites hard as you let out a breathless gasp when his teeth sink into your flesh. Before it starts hurting he releases it to see a faint mark around the circumference.
“Fuck me.”
“Yeah?” Biting his bottom lip, he draws the shape of your jaw with a finger before shifting positions with you to have you on your back. That same finger traces the length of your torso all the way down to your underwear. He takes a full sight of you for a beat before yanking your panties off you and pushing his boxers down.
His feet shimmy out of the fabric, as he lowers himself on top of you, letting you meet his full erection that throbs over your tender, slicked flesh. His warm breath heats up your face when he presses his parted mouth at the corner of your lips. He viciously rubs himself against you, collecting your juices all around his cock. Then he buries himself inside you as your whole body trembles as usual. Every time he penetrates you like this, the most thrilling chill takes over your body before you can even come. It settles at the back of your head, as all your senses are taken by that powerful lust force that you can’t control. Each thrust of his hips, each kiss, and lick, and word whispered in your ear takes you closer to heaven. He fucks you with mind, body and soul, like real men do, making you come with ease each fucking time.
“Tell me you love me,” you moan against his jaw, while you dig your nails on his back.
“I love you. I fucking love you, sweetheart.” He desperately pants as the pace of his hips becomes more urgent.
“Tell me you need me.”
“Of course I need you. All the damn time.”
You both gradually lose your ability to breathe the closer you get to orgasm. His sweat sticks with yours as your bodies melt together in that haze of love and lust bubbling all over the room.
“Tell me you’re never going to leave me again.” It sounds needy as you say it, but you need to hear it over and over, especially now.
“I promise…fuck. I promise I’m never gonna leave you again, baby.”
One of his hands clutches to your hips to keep you still while he fucks the light of you with unbridled passion. You can feel every inch of your body vibrating to the sound of his skin slapping on yours. Your breath comes out forced in short breaths as he makes that final effort that tips you over the edge. Your walls flutter and contract around his cock for a moment as you reach the top of your climax.
“I’m gonna… fuck,“ you’re squeezing him so hard, he just spills all of himself inside you while you ride that tide that makes your vision blur and ears ring for a moment while he tries to tame his own orgasm.
When you come to your senses, he’s dead weight on top of you, limp and hot, kissing your neck softly while he regains his breath. You can hear your own heartbeat in your ears still as one of our hands blindly glides up his back.
“You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” his voice comes out hoarse.
“I know.”
“What you asked me to say… you know I mean it, right?”
“I think so.”
“Are you still scared that I’m gonna leave you?”
“A little, yeah. I… it was just seven days ago when you told me that you didn’t want to see me again. I know you didn’t mean it and that you only wanted to keep us safe, but it was a hard week, Frank. I’m not mad at you. It’s just been a roller coaster of emotions, and now we're here together, playing like a normal couple and I can't help but feeling a little insecure about all of it. Not just you.”
“I'm sorry,” he shifts on top of you, lifting his head so he can capture your eyes. “I really am. I hate to make you feel that way. I know it's confusing but you gotta know something. You… You're all that matters to me. I’d die without you, sweetheart.”
“Now, who’s the dramatic one?”
“I only learned from the best.”
The next day, the wedding ceremony is set at noon.
Half an hour before the event, everyone starts gathering at the lobby to walk together to the beach. Frank holds a palm at the small of your back while he introduces you to Curtis finally and a handful of friends. He manages to avoid stumbling onto Billy altogether.
When you get to the beach, Dinah beckons you to take a seat next to her on the fourth row. Meanwhile, Frank stands next to Curt in the makeshift altar framed by swaying palm trees and a spectacular backdrop of vibrant blue skies adorned with wispy clouds and a blinding sun. Right by the groom’s side also stand Curt’s brother and Billy, who seems to be feeling the icy chill of Frank’s cold shoulder. You’ve never seen him this mad at anyone before and by the way Billy occasionally glances at you and Dinah, you start to wonder you're the cause of their rift.
Frank has traded his glasses for aviators and shines so handsome in a navy blue suit with a white dress shirt and no tie. Everyone is dressed in light fabrics and bold colors. You’ve chosen a floral romper and wedges.
Waiting for the affair to start, as you produce a pair of shades to shield your eyes from the sun, Dinah lightly touches your arm.
“You know I don’t agree with Billy at all,” she says coolly as if you had any idea what's going on. “I told you he was harmless, but he can be a real asshole sometimes.”
“I…” You glance at her, trying to gather some thoughts cause you’re really lost right now.
“Oh, Frank didn’t tell you?” She realizes by your expression. “I'm so sorry. I thought you knew.”
“No, he didn't tell me. I asked him. He said that it was just Billy being Billy. But I could tell it was more than that.” You're afraid of asking but if it's something about you, you have the right to know. “Bill doesn't like me, does he?”
“It's not that. He believes Frank isn't thinking clearly when it comes to you. Said you're just an infatuation that's going to get him in trouble. I'm sorry that you had to hear it from me. Frank should've told you.”
“It's okay. It's nothing that he and I hadn't thought of before. It's hard to hear it from someone else's mouth though. I guess that's why he didn't want to tell me.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it'll be fine. I don't know Billy enough to care about what he thinks. It's me and Frank that matters.”
“You have more class than me. I'd definitely get back at him if he tried to alienate anyone in my life like that.”
“It's not really my style. He can think whatever he wants. It's a free country.”
“I shouldn't tell you this but… just so you know he didn't get any of this last night. After you and Frank left he kept whining like a bitch and I just had it with him.”
“Oh God, I'm sorry.”
“Don't be. It's not your fault.”
When the music starts playing, everyone rises from their seats to watch the bride walk down the aisle. They exchange bows under the most stunning setting you’ve ever seen. Though you don't know Curtis and Delia besides Frank’s stories, it's straight up lovely to see two people in love celebrating their joy with family and friends.
Once they’ve sealed the ceremony with a kiss, they cross the aisle together as husband and wife between joyful cheering and applause.
Then, the party moves to the reception in a locale nearby. It's held outside under a canopy of flowers and fairy lights illuminating the array of tables framing the dance floor. The food is served buffet style and your plate is 90% filled with shrimp when you take a seat next to Frank.
“Did you leave some shrimp for the rest?”
You simply shrug, amused, “you snooze, you lose. That's the rule of the buffet. Are you nervous about your speech?”
“A little.”
“Just pretend you're in class giving a lecture.”
“Yeah, I'll try that.” He gazes at you as he brings a piece of salmon to his mouth.
“And if that doesn't work, you know what they say… picture everyone naked.” You start stuffing yours with pieces of shrimp.
“I don't see how that'd be better. I don't wanna see any of these people in their birthday suits.”
“Then focus on me and my birthday suit.”
“I'll try that.”
Frank, of course, despite having some jitters about that best man speech he just has the right words to say about Curtis and Delia. He even makes everyone laugh with a couple of heartfelt jokes about his friendship with Curt. It's really endearing to see him among his people. You can tell that he's made a tight-knit group of loyal friends that'd be there for him for the rest of his life.
As the day progresses, and the alcohol starts taking effect a few people step into the dance floor. You spot Dinah dancing with Curtis’ brother and Billy sweet-talking to one of the bridesmaids by the buffet.
“You having a good time, baby?” Frank's arms circle your waist while you pick a glass of wine from the bar.
“I'm having the best time. Everyone is really nice.” You take a sip of your glass.
“I told you that there was nothing to worry about. Everyone loves you.”
“Well, not everyone.” You tilt your head to the side to point at Billy. “You should've told me what happened.”
“I didn't want to upset you.”
“I'm not upset, Frank. Like I told Dinah, I don't know him enough to care about what he thinks. I know you were trying to protect me, but you don't have to.”
“It's not that, sweetheart. I'm just tired of having the same conversation. We know what we're up against. Figure I could save you the headache of going through all our faults again. There was no point in telling you all the bullshit that came out of his mouth.”
“Well, that's good to know, but I don't want to hear it from other people either. If he said anything about me, I have the right to know, don't you think?”
“He didn't say anything specifically about you, baby. It was mostly about me choosing to bring you here.”
“But it really upset you. You should've told me.”
“I know, I'm sorry,” he kisses your jaw. “How can I make it up to you?”
“Hm… let me think,” you sway your hips, making him move with you. “I think a dance will suffice.”
“Sweetheart, I love you, but I can’t dance to this.”
“I can wait for a slow one.”
“Alright, but just one song.”
“Got it.”
As much fun as you had with Frank dancing without a care in the world, there's nothing like being back in the hotel room to rest for the night. Mingling with that many people can be exhausting and though you had a great time, you revel in the quietness and comfort of these four walls. To wash out the day of your skin, you take a shower together. Then you lay naked on the bed, face down with our arms tucked under your head while Frank's hands massage your back. His fingers knead all the right spots until you’ve completely relaxed before feeling his lips pressing soft kisses all over your spine. One of his hands slips between your thighs. You separate your knees further apart to make room for it as he softly massages your sex. His palm gently rubs back and forth while he presses his mouth to your ear.
“How does that feel, baby?”
“Good. So fucking good,” you hum. “Don’t stop, please.”
“You gonna make a mess for me, huh?” you notice one of his fingers slipping between your folds to feel those early drops of arousal. “Yeah, you always do.”
You laugh to yourself as he presses a little harder, drawing mind-numbing circles around your clit.
“God, I love you so much.” You lightly wave your ass at his touch, aching for more fiction.
Frank takes the hint and uses his index and middle fingers to rub harder around your hardened nub as he presses his semi-hard against your hip.
“Look what you do to me,” his breathing echoes in your ear, while he rubs himself on your skin. “You proud of yourself?”
“Not quite. You should be harder already,” you turn your head to look at him and move your closest hand to grab his length.
He laughs against your mouth before sending his tongue to taste your kiss.
Mutually serving the other, his cock grows harder in your fist, as you melt around his fingers when they invite themselves into your opening.
“Open your legs a little more, sweetheart,” you heed his command. “Attagirl.”
His thick fingers quickly are wrapped in a sheen layer of your juices as he pushes them in and out repeatedly, letting your arousal drip on the sheets. At the same time, you massage his raging erection that barely fits in the curl of your palm anymore when it's fully swollen.
“I wanna feel you, Frank,” you purr on his lips as he drives you out of your mind.
“Yeah? Want me to come inside you?” He makes a point to press his fingertips hard on your g-spot to earn a good moan out of you.
“You need me to beg?”
“A little. Yeah.”
“Please, I need you to fuck me.”
“Say what you whisper in my ear when you wake me up in the middle of the night just to fuck.”
“I'd die if you don't wake up right now and fuck me,” you sigh. “Please. I need you, king.”
“That's my girl. C'mere.” He takes his fingers away and handles your body so you're laying on your side. He pulls your back flush against his chest and drives the blunt tip of his cock smoothly between your legs.
“God, you're always so fucking wet.”
“Just for you.”
As you adjust your leg to be more comfortable, he tucks his arms around you. His bottom arm slips under your armpit to hold your chest, while his opposite hand rubs its fingers on your clit. Frank thrusts come long and dragged. His mouth opens at the crook of your neck to devour your flesh. You take the hand holding your tit and bring it up to your mouth so you can take his fingers between your lips.
“Fuck, you're gonna make me come, baby,” he rumbles in your ear when you blow his fingers as if it was his cock.
You can tell he's ready to burst by the way his length twitches inside you every time his fingertips touch the back of your throat.
Wrapped in an ethereal veil made out of love and lust, your bodies sync up and lace in an intricate knot, moving together like one. You expel the same shallow breaths. Pulses follow the same pattern. Arch your bodies at the same angle. He keeps a steady rhythm on your folds, you keep your mouth tight around his knuckles. When your legs start trembling, he trembles with you. You beg him again, to go harder. Your core fuses with his as the flame between burns brighter and hotter the closer you get to the top. Overwhelmed by the intoxicating haze, at the very last second, his body gives up and falls out of cadence. Frank comes with the force of a waterfall before you do. A deep grunt echoes in the room as his hips erratically keep pushing for a couple of seconds until he’s spilled every last drop into you.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry, baby,” his breathing falters.
“It’s okay. Just don’t stop. Please.” You pull your mouth away from his hand.
“Sh, sh, I won’t. Come for me, baby.” His fingers stay glued to your clit, his cock remains hard, and deep buried inside your walls while he keeps viciously rubbing on it to grant you your release.
You're so close, you can feel your body about to meet that same force. You clutch your hand around his wrist as your body locks for a beat before being overcome by that whirlwind of pleasure that takes you to a higher ground.
Frank holds you tight as your body goes limp in his embrace. You’d die here if you could, in his arms wrapped around you, in the comfort of his kisses and his voice in your ear telling you how much he loves you.
#frank castle x reader#frank castle#frank castle fanfiction#the punisher fanfiction#jon bernthal#jon bernthal fanfiction#jon bernthal smut#angst#smut#fluff#darlingwrites#made a mini moodboard cause i couldn't choose just 3 pics
169 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pay it no mind
Part III
In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).
Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself.
Previous: Part I, Part II
----------------------
Ikeda Haruki and you had met while you were in high school, although he did not attend Jujutsu Tech. In fact, he did not know anything about the jujutsu world or curses, the reason being that he was a non-sorcerer.
“Oh, I see… So you think they discontinued it?” Haruki looked at the products you had been holding just a couple minutes ago, touching his chin with his finger.
You shrugged. “I think so. This is the third store I try, and they just don't have it” He had asked you if you lived nearby, to which you had admitted that you did not, but your search for a certain shampoo brand had led you to that particular store.
He had laughed, but still said he totally understood, and that he would also search all of Tokyo for his favorite tea if it ever disappeared.
That made you laugh a little. “It’s not quite the same.”
You had forgotten how easy it was to engage in conversation with Haruki. That is how you quickly learned that he had only returned to Tokyo a couple months ago but was becoming a regular at that store; that he had spent some time abroad, but he had come back for work and now lived alone; and that he was sorry he did not do more to stay in touch with you.
The sun was setting when you exited the store and were about to part ways with Ikeda. The shine in his eyes reflected the colors of a sunset sky and, although nothing like the shades of blue you had grown to love, his gaze made you nostalgic for a time, years ago, when you were younger, and your hearts were probably lighter.
“Would it be okay if I asked for your number?” Haruki’s face showed just a bit of embarrassment, “I’m not trying to be creepy!”, he blushed and laughed nervously as you smiled. He was still as charming as you remembered him. “It’s just that it is nice finally seeing a familiar face. I’m sorry if that sounds…”
“No, I get it”, you interrupted him. “Things must feel different after being away for so long. I would love to catch up sometime.” You put out your phone to get his number.
***
“Don’t you dare mix your sweets with my popcorn, Satoru!” you warned him from your small kitchen.
It had been almost two months since Gojo had rejected you, but your friendship had somewhat returned to normal.
Of course, there had been weird moments between you two, like when he would mindlessly drop an arm around your shoulders and lean too close to your face, or when he would fix your uniform or try to feed you something sweet. Those things had been just part of your usual dynamic weeks ago, but now, he would back off a bit, sometimes, even before seeing your flustered face.
Now, he would do his best to just point out you needed to fix the button of your jacket and put a sweet in your hand instead of taking it straight to your lips. You did not know, but he had resolved in his heart that, if he could not give you a clear answer, at least he did not want to give you any mixed signals.
You carried the drinks to the living room and sat next to Gojo. “Are we really going to eat all of that?” You observed the variety of food in front of you that Satoru had brought and unpacked.
“You underestimate us.” He smirked and put his arm around you. He was trying, truly, but old habits die hard.
“We are going to have a hell of a stomachache after this.” You sighed and scooted closer to him. Old habits really die hard. “So, what are we watching first today? I think it is your turn to pick.”
It was usual for you and him to meet at one of your places every once in a while, to have a movie marathon and eat as much as you humanly could. Albeit unsaid, both of you were glad you were not giving up that tradition despite the events of the last few weeks.
“That one where the kid dies at the end.” He shoved a bunch of popcorn in his mouth
You glared at him. Satoru was a movie enthusiast but also a walking spoiler alert.
***
2:47 am
Your eyes opened and adjusted to your poorly illuminated living room. You had fallen asleep at some point during your third movie and judging by the position you and Satoru were in, he had been deeply asleep for a while too.
“Satoru”, you whispered. “Hey, wake up. Your neck is gonna hurt if you stay like that.”
His sunglasses had fallen off his face, so he recognized your ceiling immediately. Had he dozed off? His arm tightened slightly around your waist, and he looked at you.
“We fell asleep.” Your face had been pressed to his chest, but you were moving his arm away to sit up, your eyes on the tv screen showing the credits of the movie you had probably not finished watching. He looked at them too; his neck was a bit sore.
“What time is it?”, he asked.
You stretched before reaching for your phone. “Almost 3:00 am. We should head to the bedroom.” You yawned.
Now that woke him up. “The bedroom?!”
You raised an eyebrow. “You are staying, right? But you cannot take the bed if you don't want the futon this time.” It was not a big deal that he stayed. After all, he would do it most times.
Since you did not have a guest room, he had insisted on getting a futon so he could stay over when he was 'too tired' to go home, although he would sometimes steal your bed and force you to take the futon instead because 'it was more comfortable' and 'best friend privilege'.
Of course, you had argued that he could just teleport home if he wanted, but he would put the futon in your bedroom anyway or in the living if it was a summer night and stay over.
“Right...” he said.
It took you a second too late to realize that he might have thought it to be weird. Sleeping in the same room as him used to be one thing, but now would he not prefer going home?
"Alright." You nodded and went to the bathroom in a hurry to shake away any awkwardness.
Gojo felt relieved when you left him alone, hoping his expression had not been too revealing. He sat up straight and ran his fingers through his hair. His face felt hot, and what on earth had he imagined at the mention of your bedroom?
He thought of how close you had been just a moment ago and how easily he had relaxed and fallen asleep with you in his arms.
We fit perfectly.
He smiled at that thought but immediately felt the urge to scold himself.
What is wrong with me? We are friends.
----------------------
Note: Can you tell I enjoy picturing Gojo in denial?
Thanks for reading!
Next: Part IV
#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#jjk drabbles#jjk#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#jjk gojo#satoru x reader#satoru x you#drabble#gojo fanfic#pay it no mind#gojo fluff
246 notes
·
View notes
Text
i visited idiot street and everyone knew your name!
part i, part ii, part iii
synopsis: the three times you friendzoned Alhaitham, and the one he made damn sure you didn't.
tags: alhaitham/reader ; school setting ; valentine's day special ; reader likes sewing ; miscommunication
Valentine’s day comes rolling around the next year, and you are sadly not present to witness Alhaitham lengthen his trail of broken hearts. A shame, really. This year, you were looking forward to bringing popcorn for the occasion—just to see him squirm.
You’ve been cooped up in the homeroom lab for the better part of the week, sewing and snipping away at one of the costumes for the school’s fair. Unlike last year, you don’t have your seniors to help you pin fabrics right or to assist in hand stitching plastic beads, as the newly appointed tailor's club head you have a lot more duties to take on.
It’s exhausting, you feel the deep creases underneath your eye—dreading to head to the bathroom and accidentally look into the mirror to face your own haggard appearance—and the dull ache in your hands and back is blocking any sense you could have.
The club room is otherwise quiet if not for the lo-fi beat playing from your phone’s speaker and the rhythmic snips of scissors gliding over fabric. You focus all your brain power on the task—fabric is not cheap and you don’t have enough mora in your wallet if you lose focus and mess up—and remain blissfully unaware of any potential distraction.
To be honest, it hadn’t even registered in your head that you weren’t alone in the room anymore, until the gentlest tap on your shoulder has you snapping your focus away from the brocade.
The sight of just who has you unconsciously gaping your mouth like a blubbering fish in shock—Alhaitham.
He stares at you blankly, his gaze is so intense it’s a little unnerving, you freeze up before him, and probably make yourself look like an idiot in the process.
Suddenly, the state of your appearance becomes a presiding worry. Having skipped lunch in favor of patterning tulle perfectly on the dummy mannequin. Your uniform is crumpled, creased with the lack of motion, stray threads and fabric fibers cover you head to toe similar to lint. It’s almost humiliating to be seen so disheveled by Alhaitham—when he himself looks like the epitome of put-together flawlessness.
“Haitham,” you start, smoothing out the fabric laid out on the table, it’s soft and smooth under your fingertips. “Need something?”
He spares a glance to whatever you’re fidgeting with behind you then to your face, which in turn makes you fist the work-in-progress fabric tighter in your hand.
Alhaitham seems to search for something in your expression, his gaze feels like it’s poking and prodding in your soul. Your hands itch to cover up whatever’s he’s fixated on, but you settle on the second best option; staring back just as hard and ten times more intensely.
“The second button of my shirt,” he says, Alhaitham points at his stark white button up, right where a button lay missing. You arch a brow at that, he’s most definitely only here to ask you to mend his shirt. No other reason.
And you are definitely not disappointed right now too.
Swallowing hard, your eyes drift to his face. “Do you need a replacement button?”
A crease forms between his brows. “No.”
Well.
“O-kay,” that stumps you, “What about it then?” you shoot him a puzzled look, folding your arms tightly across your chest.
That makes him pause. “I wanted to check if you wanted it.”
“…your button?”
“Yes, that’s why I came over here.”
He must be kidding. The two of you are standing in the homeroom lab, there’s a surplus of small white buttons, you’d rather pick from there than have him ruin a perfectly good shirt.
“Uh no thanks,” you scratch at the back of your neck, extremely confused. “I have a lot more buttons in the drawer, there’s no need to take one off your back.”
Once you said that and saw the expression on his face, you knew immediately that it was the wrong choice—even if it wasn’t a test question. Alhaitham does not pout, but that’s something he would say. If you were asked, the way his lips twitch downward slightly is pouting.
“I understand,” he says shortly and starts to turn back and reach for the door. You cannot hide your bewildered expression, pinching your brows in confusion.
“Wait—hold it right there,” you call, stepping a step or two following him. You, not wanting your conversation to end on such an unusually awkward note. “What’s up with you?”
“It’s nothing,” he says and you practically hear the sulky edge to his voice—something you swore he left back in middle school—still, he turns back to face you. “If you don’t want it, I won’t give it to you.”
Sighing, you step even closer to close some of the distance, holding your palm out impatiently to him. “Come over here, grumpy. I’ll take the button.”
He eases up slightly. “Don’t force yourself.”
Why you ought to wring this man by the neck. You place your free hand to rest on your waist. “You’re not forcing me, now hand it over.”
Alhaitham stands his ground, but eventually cracks, offering a compromise. “...I’ll leave it on the table.”
“Okay,” your eyes flutter shut in exhaustion and slight irritation—confusion more than anything. “See you, Haitham.”
He bids you goodbye, calling your name softly.
You hear the door slide open, then shut.
When you open your eyes, a singular translucent white button sits on your working table—along with a box of fine confectioners chocolate.
What a loser, you think. Though your smile betrays that thought.
You skip back to your work and suddenly, you aren’t so exhausted anymore.
103 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC
Summary: Six months after being released from prison and cleared of murder charges, you and Arthur are finally getting married. All you have to do now is hope for the wedding day to be spared from some Shelby chaos. Featuring John Shelby x Reader.
Words: 6k
TW: tooth-rotting fluff, light angst, allusions to smut, one ruined wedding cake, Tommy not being a dick for once, otherwise it's a well-deserved soft chapter to start this new act. Let's not break your heart too soon.
Notes:
✞ This chapter is the beginning of Act II of Heaven in Your Eyes. The timeline is S4.
✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here).
PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART
The beating in your heart was so erratic, so fierce, that its constant drumming echoed in your skull and ears as painfully as if someone was smashing your brain with a hammer. You clenched your jaws at the painful bite of the rope the police officer behind you had placed around your neck. The way the noose compressed your windpipe, already giving you a foretaste of what was awaiting you, made the act of breathing laborious. Sucking on a sharp breath, your throat whistled like a dying bird. Down below I go, you thought while nervously playing with the wedding ring Arthur gifted you weeks ago. He had barely made his proposal when policemen snatched you from him and threw you both in jail. With your back straight and your crystal eyes glaring at the officers who were present in this slaughter room, you managed to keep your dignity. They might hang you, but they would not see you cry. In fact, if you went down they would have to watch you, so that your piercing irises would haunt them until, one day, Death would come for them too.
I love you Arthur.
I love you Dad and Mom.
I love you little sister.
I’m so sorry I’ve failed you.
Could you ever forgive me?
Your teeth dug into the flesh of your inner cheek as seconds flew, each bringing you closer to your inevitable end.
“WAIT!!! PLEASE WAIT! ”
A far cry in the distance. Were you dreaming? Or were demons already afraid of you down in Hell?
Officer Kat Wilson’s heart missed a beat when the familiar voice boomed in the warehouse, as loud as a foghorn. The blonde policewoman turned around, eyes filled with hope as she saw the silhouette of Sergeant Moss bathed in the blinding outside light that had rushed into the place when he had opened the warehouse’s heavy doors, “Do not kill her! We’ve just received a new order from the Crown: Heaven Lavey and Polly Gray are proven innocent of the crimes they had been accused of.” He said, forehead glistening with sweat. He had probably run as fast as possible to deliver the news quickly. Kat Wilson felt all of her muscles relax at such an unhoped-for plot twist.
“Take the noose off her neck now.” She ordered, trying his best to sound strict despite Moss standing right here, running out of breath.
Innocent? Take the noose? Sentences were melting in an intelligible treacle because of the emotional roller coaster you were undergoing, hence you only caught a few words. When your mind finally made sense of what was happening, a long sigh came out of your quivering lips. Then, the policeman behind you set your throat free. You blinked several times and looked at Officer Wilson, who replied to your confused gaze with a faint, supportive smile illuminating her usually oh-so-severe traits. Then, she proceeded to free you from the handcuffs that were sinking into the frail flesh of your wrists. As she did, Kat brought her lips near your ear and whispered so only you could hear, “Arthur’s safe. The warrant includes the Shelby family too. I’m sorry for the mess, doll. ”
You swallowed the lump in your throat and glanced at the woman, trying not to let too many emotions show. Not that you wanted to play the tough girl, but you were so overwhelmed by your feelings that you were not even able to let out anything except confusion. It was all… Too much. “You knew they were going to release us.” You stated with a quiet but still slightly shaky voice as the revelation struck you.
“Let’s say I hoped they’d interrupt your death sentence in time.” Her soft yet hoarse voice replied, highlighted with a cunning little something.
Kat Wilson gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before leading you outside the sinister warehouse, unwilling to provide you with further details. And somehow, you did not bother to ask. The only thing you wished for was to run away from this killing floor. Thus you walked bare feet on the gravel ground, the peaky sensation of the tiny stones against your flesh keeping you grounded to reality, andyou stopped in the middle of the yard. There, you threw your head back and closed your eyes, relishing the soft caress of the wind on your face. You breathed a sigh of relief, for the clouds above you had shifted from the sun, whose rays were warming up your frozen skin.
You were alive.
“Heaven!” A woman voice called you.
You reopened your eyes and looked around you, “Oh my God, Polly!” You suddenly exclaimed when you recognized her. Seeing Aunt Polly running to you and almost tackling you in a desperate hug was all it took for your emotions to finally flood you. Tears dawned at the corner of your eyes as you pulled her into a deeper embrace. Polly sobbed in your arms, her body quivering because of her cries.
“I saw them Heaven! I saw the spirits. Oh bloody hell, the spirits…”
“I know Pol,” You tried to comfort her the best you could, your grip tightening around the poor woman in the hope of helping her calm her panic attack. Still, you knew she was shaken to the core by her freshly canceled rendezvous with Mr. Death, “Everything’s fine,” You whispered, and let one of your hands lose itself in her short dark hair, “I hear them too.” You admitted. Polly gradually grew quieter in your arms, running out of tears. Nevertheless, you did not let her go. What you did, though, was to silently thank the policewoman with your gaze, your irises sparkling with genuine gratitude. No matter her role in all this mess, you knew Kat Wilson contributed to setting you free.
You were alive.
Alive, for sure, and indescribably furious.
1925 - Six Months Later
You had been absentmindedly looking at your reflection in the mirror for long minutes when someone knocked at the door and snatched you from your contemplative state. A growl escaped from your lips for you had let everyone know you did not want to be bothered— truth be told, you needed a bit of time alone with you to soothe your anxiety. However, the uninvited guest came in before you allowed him to do so.
“True gentlemen wait to be invited before entering a room, you know? Especially when a lady is in it. ” You said with a faint smirk on your plump and glossy lips as you recognized the guest by the sole fragrances of his cologne.
“A part of me hoped to see you undressed, that’s why I didn’t, little Angel.” The masculine voice answered, its tone filled with tease. You snorted at such a stupid answer, kinda expecting it, and rolled your eyes in amusement.
“Idiot.” You simply retorted, glancing at him through the mirror you were still facing.
“Idiot? That’s it? I’m used to better roast from ya, eh!” John exclaimed, surprised by your lack of wit. He wanted to tease you again you but your sudden silence kept him from doing so. Something was off. Worried, the young Shelby brother frowned a little bit and walked to you, not minding your desire of being alone. You jumped slightly at the sensation of his two large and warm hands squeezing your upper arms, “Oi, Angel.” He gently called, the tenderness in his voice wrapping you in a comforting haze, “Tell me what’s wrong please…”
For sure John Shelby had a soft spot for you since the day Arthur introduced you to the family. No one had ever doubted it. Without the slightest explanation nor apparent reasons, you both immediately grew fond of each other from the moment your eyes met. In truth, your relationship with the Shelby family had been quite tricky for months following the first meeting. Most of them didn’t want you to be a part of the clan, partly due to the witch rumors around you and Arthur’s obsessive love. It was only now, a solid year and one murder later, that everything had started to flow more smoothly with them. Even Esme, who had been terrified of you and would usually avoid you at all costs, had learned to live with your presence in the family. According to Polly, you had deserved your place among them more than any other women the boys brought home. The only threat to this harmony had been and still was Thomas Shelby himself. The mutual resentment you shared for each other was rooted in deep and far too complicated reasons, the most recent one was him selling you to the police for murder charges. However, you came to terms with the idea of maintaining a mutual hatred as long as he did not step between Arthur and you ever again.
So, apart from Tommy and Esme, you were now getting along with everyone. But with John… With John, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced, apart from Arthur. Whenever your man wasn’t there, John would do everything that was in his power to keep you company and bring a smile to your face. Not only he loved to visit you and spent his free time with you, but he truly cared for your well-being. Sometimes he would make a surprise visit to your house. In fact, he would stand there on your porch with the most adorable smile you had ever seen etched on his lips, a basket filled with food in one hand and a bottle of red wine in the other. When Arthur and you decided to leave Birmingham, your heart ached at the thought of moving away from John. Following your departure, rumors said John’s eternal smile had not be seen for weeks. However, once you had well adjusted to your new routine, even distance could not shake your unique bond: John never ceased to visit you when he could.
“What’s the matter, little angel?” He inquired, genuinely concerned by your silence and the melancholic gleam in your aquamarine eyes.
“I’m scared John. I’m fucking scared.” You finally admitted, closing your eyelids a few seconds to take a slow inhale. The weight in your chest had vanished from the moment words left your mouth. At such a surprising answer, the young gangster’s grip tightened on your arms and he gently forced you to turn around to face him. Still, you avoided his gaze, fearing judgment.
“It’s your wedding day, Heaven. What are you scared of?” He carefully asked, taking care not to make you think he was mocking or judging you.
“I’m scared because now I’ve got something to lose,” You fell silent for a tiny while, fighting again the desire to remain silent, but you knew you could open up to him, “I have a magnificent house in the forest cradled by the sweet chant of a peaceful stream. I have the loveliest man I could have dreamt of by my side, who loves me to the moon and back. God, I even got a dog!” Another brief pause you took to avoid crying, “And one day there will be one or two kids…” John listened to you carefully, still wondering what the problem was, “If I'm being honest, I’ve never thought I would be allowed to be this happy. At one point in my life, I got used to the idea of dying alone, hunted down by bad memories, and drown by guilt. But, look at me now. Look how far I’ve come… That’s why I’m scared of losing it all. Fuck, John — I’ll die without him.”
To your greatest surprise, the young gangster replied to your lament with soft chuckles, “Heaven. I don’t know what it is between Arthur and you, but I’ve never seen a love fiercer than the one you share. Bloody Hell, you’re so addicted to each other it’s even a bit scary sometimes, not gonna lie eh,” His fingers trapped your chin in one soft movement and, with indescribable tenderness, he raised your head so that he could observe each trait of your angelic face, “Having something to lose makes you cherish what you have even more. Plus it doesn’t mean you’re gonna lose it. “ The corner of his charming lips curled in a sweet smile, “Moreover, there’s more chance for Tommy to like you than for Arthur to leave your side. He’s not gonna let you go… To my greatest sadness.” John winked at you and, despite everything, his last flirty comment managed to make you laugh. Sometimes, you didn’t know how he always succeeded in cheering you up but still he did, “Listen, I knew you’d be a bit nervous for your wedding day, so I got you a little surprise.”
“A surprise?” You asked, curious, wiping away the tiny tears that had formed in the corner of your eyes while being careful not to ruin the stunning siren-eyes makeup Ada did. It would be a shame to have more mascara on your cheek than on your eyelashes the day of your wedding. John walked to the door and put his large hand on the knob, looking at you to maintain a small suspense “I know he’s not supposed to see you before the ceremony but he would not stop crying without you so…” He was about to open the door when he stopped mid-action, “Oh and I’m not talking about Arthur by the way. Even though I’m pretty sure he’s also doing that.”
“Fuck off, John boy.” You poked your tongue out, feeling cheerful and far less anxious thanks to him. He grinned in reply and finally opened the door.
“Oh! This is... So cuuuuute!” You almost squealed, for you were welcomed by the sight of Kaiser, the huge Cane Corso Arthur’s had brought home one night, sitting in front of the door with his mouth open in a big smile and with his drooling tongue hanging, “Come here big boy!” You called him, kneeling on the floor without minding your wedding dress now that your fur baby was here. Kaiser did not need to be asked twice: he walked to you and put his huge head between your frail hands to get his scratches, looking at you with so much love in his hazel eyes you could not resist smooching his wet snout “I can’t believe you’ve put a bow tie to my dog!” You laughed, “Look at this distinguished gentleman... He’s gonna steal all the women!” The massive beast barked loudly as to agree with you. You delicately wrapped your arms around his muscular frame to hug him, the sensation of his fur against your face erasing the last bits of anxiety left in you “Oh you’re the most handsome man of the whole family, baby Kaiser... Yes, you are. ”
His tail wagged. Of course, he was!
“Couldn’t participate in the wedding if he wasn’t all fancy, eh. I've also put a fake mustache on his snout but he ate it so I gave up on the idea,” He shrugged, “I thought it would make you laugh and help you relax.”
“Thank you, John! Thank you so much, you’re lovely I swear.” You said, looking at him with your gaze filled with genuine affection all the while cuddling with Kaiser, who seemed to be in paradise judging by his blissfully happy face.
“So — are you ready?” John finally asked.
“Yes, I am.” You replied, then stood up and took a quick look at your reflection in the mirror to fix your long white mane, which had been styled in wavy and adorned with a few diamonds from there and then, giving your hair an otherworldly shine. As you focused on your hairstyle, John rearranged your dress. At one point, he stopped what he was doing to look at you with a dreamy expression.
“You’re stunning, little angel. Fuckin’ bewitching.” He whispered before shaking his head, “Let’s find your man now, eh. Alright?” You nodded, the butterflies in your stomach flying at the sole mention of Arthur.
“I’m ready but before we go can I ask you a favor, John?”
“Anything.”
“You know, I’d have loved my family to be here. Mom would have been prolly crying during the whole wedding in Dad’s arms while my little sister would have thrown white petals at everyone’s face for fun…” You let out a charming but oh-so-sad chuckle “But no matter how fiercely I’ve prayed for it I know they won’t be there. So I’ve got two choices left: either I walk alone to my husband or I ask someone to accompany me.” You had barely finished your sentence when the celeste blue of your eyes dived into the sky blue of his, “I’d like you to escort me down the aisle, John.”
He remained silent, stricken by surprise at such a touching demand. He had not been expecting it. Words were at loss, however, they were not necessary for you to understand his answer: as the sun rays crossed through the windows and enlightened John’s face, you could see the precious shine of one sole crystal tear running down his cheek.
The powerful sound of the organ resonated in the whole church, the vibrations of its melody resounding in Arthur’s chest and making him tremble from within. He was standing in front of the altar with his manly hands interlocked in front of him. For the occasion, he had bought the most elegant and expensive tailored three-piece suit he had ever owned: he was dressed in all black, except for the white shirt he was wearing under. Moreover, Tommy had put some traditional white flowers in the pocket of his vest, while Polly had slipped an emerald pillar pendant around his neck and hid it under his shirt before he entered the church— a marriage blessing, from what he had understood from Polly’s emotional speech. The woman was so proud of her older nephew she could not help but already weep with joy. Arthur nervously glanced at his brother who was standing by his side, slightly in front of him at his best man’s place. Then, his steel-blue eyes shifted from Tommy and searched for his Aunt, who sat a bit further in the audience beside Ada and Finn. To be honest, Arthur’s anxiety kicked in. The more the second passed, the more the unpleasant impression his heart was about to burst from his chest was overwhelming. Nervously spinning one of his silver rings, he tried to control his nerves the best he could but it was harder than he thought: a part of him, admittedly irrational, was terrified by the possibility of you not showing up.
What if you’ve changed your mind? What if you’ve come to the conclusion you did not want him? What if your wedding did not work out, just like his first one? Maybe the problem hadn’t been Linda but him?
As was always the case when he was panicking, his self-whipping thoughts banged together in his skull like a hive of furious buzzing hornets. Nevertheless, Arthur knew, deep down, that you were soul mates and that there was no actual reason for you to flee. What really helped him to calm down though was taking a deep inhale and focusing on the hundred of candles’ flames that were illuminating the room with tiny dancing flames. A comforting wave of warmth almost immediately wrapped his heart as he did, for this church was the place in which you met for the very first time. He still clearly remembers the fire that had lit in his dying soul at the way your fingers grazed him when you had cleaned the blood off his face with a torn piece of your own dress. Not only had you purified his soiled skin, but then you had allowed him to put his head on your thighs and proceeded to pet his hair all the while lulling his demons to sleep with that enchanting voice of yours. From that night, Arthur made a promise to Almighty God, who had been kind enough to answer his prayers and sent him his most precious Angel. And that promise was that he would marry you in this same place to show God how well he would treat you and how happy you would be with him.
The organ roared louder in the church all of a sudden, causing him to refocus.
You were coming.
The gangster straightened his back, quickly slicked his hair back one last time to look perfect for you, and then stared at the church’s heavy wooden doors with both anxiety and anticipation in his eyes. His blood boiled with impatience, for you had been separated for too long because of the traditional “don’t see the bride before the ceremony” the Shelby women — and John — had insisted to establish. That being said, it had been torture for Arthur, who was aching so much from your absence that he felt almost as bad as when he went through rehab. Hands shaking, cold sweat running down his back, breath hitching, Arthur could definitely not live without you by his side. — you were the most exquisite drug ever created, against which even opium could not even compete.
The doors opened and panic rushed even more brutally into his being. At first, he thought he was about to die from a heart attack, but then, all these negative feelings vanished in dust when his piercing blue irises met your tantalizing silhouette. When you erupted from the almost supernatural light that was surrounding you, Arthur widened his eyes and stopped breathing. Here you were, your seductive body adorned with a graceful Greek goddess-inspired dress whose cut let the pale flesh of your back for the world to see while also forming a graceful and long wedding cape that was cascading down your shoulders. The whiteness of your outfit, equaling the wonderful snow-like color of your hair, was enhanced with gold jewels: armbands and a choker. One look at you was all it took for Arthur to feel the stinging of uncontrollable tears dawning in his eyes, for a tsunami of emotions had crashed in his soul at such a holy sight. As you walked to the altar at John’s arm, the wind blew in the church and made your cape dance behind you. For a few seconds, Arthur was convinced he saw wings in your back. Mighty feathery wings.
Divine. It was the only word that came into his mind when he watched you breaking the distance between you. And the more you approached, the more he was stunned by your ethereal beauty. So stunned he had to keep himself from falling on his knees at your feet, deeming himself unworthy of standing in front of such a pure seraph. Even Tommy, whose resentment for you was a secret to none, found himself in awe at your pulchritude. He, along with the groom, had to blink several times to make sure they were not dreaming.
Your glossy lips stretched in an enamored smile overflowing with emotions when you looked at your future husband: he was so charming in his suit that you fell in love with him for a second time. Your grip tightened around John’s arm for your heartbeat quickened until you finally rejoined Arthur. As soon as you reached him, the tall gangster took you by the hands — yours: small, delicate, and freezing. His: large, calloused, and burning. You dived into each other’s eyes, and the rest of the world disappeared.
“You’re so handsome.” You whispered, causing an adorable pink shade to blossom on your soon-to-be husband’s cheeks.
“C-Come on. Did ye see yer own reflection? Ye took me fookin breath away, Angel.” His hoarse replied.
“Arthur, we’re in a church.” You discreetly snorted.
“Oh Fook. I mean shi— Whatever.” He slightly stuttered. At this moment, it did not matter that he was a grown man in his mid-thirties: he felt like a flustered teenager in front of his first crush all over again. And to be true, so you were — to the point you both did not hear much of what the priest was saying, for you were far too hypnotized by each other’s presence as well as fighting hard against the urge of devouring each other’s lips. The only moment you both came back to your senses was when you had to pronounce your vows.
Then came the final moment.
Arthur Shelby, do you take Heaven Lavey to be your wife? Do you promise to be faithful to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love her and to honor her all the days of your life?
I do. He answered with haste. You trapped your lower lip between your teeth, gathering all your strength to hold your emotions, but the crystal tears in your aquamarine eyes betrayed you.
Arthur Shelby, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
The caress of your fingers along with the cold sensation of the golden ring on his skin sent shivers down his spine. Observing you as you sealed your love by slipping the ring around his finger, Arthur’s smile grew a bit larger and made his teary eyes squint, digging adorable crowfeet at their corners.
You can kiss the bride.
The priest’s last words brought him back to life — that’s what he had been waiting for what seemed to be an eternity. Unable to wait any longer, the gangster brought one hand to your cheek and broke the excruciating distance between your lips until they crashed together under a thunder of applause. The feathery caress of his moustache on your skin mixed with the sensation of his eager mouth warmed you all over. Arthur deepened the kiss by parting his lips slightly so that his tongue could find its way to yours and give it a gentle stroke. But while hungry, the press of his mouth remained chaste. Carried away by his softness, you felt your body flickering in his arms, as fragile as the church’s candle flames.
You were his, he told it to himself. And he was yours. All yours until death tears you apart.
No, fuck that Reaper cunt he thought, even Death would not keep him apart from you.
The hundreds of candles and lanterns that were scattered through all Arrow House’s garden enlightened the night with their warm hue. Shortly before the wedding, the Shelby family suggested hosting the party in Tommy’s Mansion rather than in your place for practical matters. By celebrating your marriage in Arrow House, all the family and, by extension, friends, could reunite together without having to drive for miles. Moreover, the mansion was far bigger than your and Arthur’s house, which made the place far more convenient for partying. For the event, all of Arrow House and its gargantuan garden had been decorated with lights, candles of every kind, white drapes, and flower wreaths that gave the place a supernatural atmosphere. The cheerful cacophony of chatter and music hovered above the garden as the guests were indulging themselves with food, alcohol, and innocent fun. Even Officer Kat Wilson, who had been invited following her implication in your release from prison, spent the whole night partying with the Shelby family. Surprisingly enough, no one dared to disrupt the celebration with illegal activities. Just a few bets here and there. The only incident to declare had been the moment when Arthur, faithful to himself, almost smashed someone’s head in the wedding cake —he got angry when one of the guests looked at your cleavage—. However, if Arthur failed with ruining the cake it had not been Kaiser’s case, who ate half of it by himself.
“Where are Arthur and Heaven? Can’t believe the bride and the groom had disappeared!” Polly asked Tommy and Ada, visibly unhappy. The latter was a bit tipsy judging by the red shade of her cheeks and the glass of champagne in her perfectly manicured hand.
“Last time I’ve seen them they were dancing with flower crowns on their heads,” She hiccoughed, “I nearly died from laughing. Arthur. With a flower crown. It was so sweet and ridiculous!”
“That ain’t fun, Ada. I really need to find those stupid lovebirds. I swear I’m going bonkers: first Arthur’s tantrum, then Kaiser ruining the wedding cake, and now the newlyweds are late for the picture!” She complained. Overall, it had been Aunt Polly who made sure everything ran smoothly, hence her discontentment.
Tommy rolled his eyes at his sister’s inebriation, then he squeezed her shoulder with his large hand, “I think your question will find its answer really soon, Pol.” He stated with his quiet and deep voice as his turquoise eyes caught sight of your silhouette walking toward them, holding Arthur by the hand. You were both exchanging glances and light enamored laughters.
As surprising as it sounded, Thomas Shelby and you had managed to put your mutual hatred aside for the sake of the wedding. Of course, you were carefully avoiding each other the best you could, but when you were together in inevitable family moments, your exchanges remained polite.
Polly turned to you with her eyebrows furrowed and pressed her fists on her hips with an angry- mother expression when you and Arthur joined the small group.
“Ah! There you are! The photographer has been fuming for half an hour! Where have you been?” She scolded.
“We really need a map. This place is a fookin’ maze eh. We got lost.” Arthur tried to justify himself, his fingers firmly intertwined with yours, “I mean I wanted to show her the mansion but hey, I quite forgot which way to go and —“
“Arthur?” Polly cut him.
“Eh?”
“Your fly.” She simply stated. Holding much power, those two tiny words made Arthur almost jump. He let go of your hand in one vivid movement.
“OH FOOKIN HELL!” His gravel voice exclaimed when he looked down at his trousers. He quickly zipped the fly up under Ada’s hysterical laugh and Tommy’s mocking smirk. Admittedly, you could not help but giggle too for his reaction had been quite priceless. Oh Arthur, you thought. The only one who was not laughing was Polly, who looked at him with such a desperate face that you were sure she was about to facepalm herself. Or slap his face, it depended on her mood.
“Men and their cock, I swear. Look at you, idiot,” She said affectionately, “Your hair is all messed up! You’re going to look awful in your wedding pic!” She growled, grabbing her oldest nephew to rearrange both his hair and his tie.
“Don’t be mean Pol, he just needed to release the pressure.” You said, watching the scene with a faint smile on your juicy and glossy lips still swollen from Arthur’s lustful kisses, “The whole speech thing worried him.”
“Mmmpff— true.” He grunted, embarrassed.
“Yeah of course.” The beautiful Ada started before coming to you and smoothing the folds of your goddess dress with a teasing grin “What a long and difficult way to say you just wanted to give him a blowjob.” She teased.
“Piss off Ada.” You gently retorted, rolling your eyes in a fake outraged pout, “let’s take that picture before Polly strangle us all.”
“OI. Everyone fucking gather together for the picture! Bring the damn dog too!” Tommy yelled to the crowd, “John! Made them pose in front of the mansion!” Orders flew and Peaky Blinders were soon taking the crowd in charge to help the photographer take the most perfect picture he could take. When everyone was ready, he pushed the button of his camera and, in a blinding flash, captured the most beautiful moment of your whole life in a picture you would cherish like the apple of your eye.
“We… We really should … Like… At least try to get in bed.” You giggled, your cheeks still adorned with a pink blush. Admittedly, talking had become quite a challenge after the second bottle of wine.
“Not gonna lie, love, I can’t fookin’ get up for the life of me.” Arthur pulled you closer against his bare chest and slipped one hand into your messy long hair, not willing to move. The tenderness of his caresses made your whole body relax and you melted in the warmth of his freckled skin. To hell with the bed, you thought, the floor would do the trick.
When the party had come to an end, Arthur had carried you bridal-style to one of the mansion’s magnificent bedrooms, despite being completely drunk. The whole walk had been tedious with poor Arthur staggering in the stairway, but you could not have cared less — you were as wasted as he was and could not walk anymore. Maybe the alcohol contest with Kat and Uncle Charlie had not been such a great idea after all… Once you reached the bedroom, Arthur and you collapsed on the large fur rug that was on the wooden floor and clumsily took off each other’s clothes between heated kisses and steamy moans. He had impatiently waited for the wedding night, calling you “Mrs. Shelby” and “me lovely wife” all the way. That being said, a few intoxicated chuckles had embellished the symphony of your love when alcohol made one of you missed the other’s lips. No one could tell how many hours went by nor how many times you made love — Not even you. You were only coming back to your senses now that you were both snuggling naked on the floor, your legs entangled and your mind still clouded with your latest orgasm.
“I don’t want this wonderful day to end,” Arthur said, his gruff voice finally breaking the comfortable and peaceful silence that had settled in the room. A slow and long exhale escaped from your nostrils at his words before you laid lazy kisses on his chest. Your lips, still hungry for him despite your drowsiness, trailed up until they reached the golden cross pendant he was always wearing. A shiver ran down his spine when you took it between your full lips and looked up to his eyes through your Bambi lashes, “Fook — you make me so… Happy.”
“And I’ll do my best to keep you happy every day of your life.” You replied after a little while, setting the pendant free from your tantalizing mouth. “That was a pretty successful day.”
“It was, eh.” Arthur softly smiled at your words, his piercing blue eyes enjoying your mesmerizing beauty and his long fingers gently massaging your scalp, “We got a letter and a bouquet from Mrs. Solomons, y’know. She wanted to come but her husband’s back was hurting too much. ”
“Oh yes? Rosie is a sweetheart.”
“And her husband’s a cunt.” He growled, “Bloody bastard.”
“I know right? But she’s great. She’s been teaching me so many interesting things about feminism! Really made me want to attend her next meeting!”
“Women… You’re all going to overpower us one day.” Arthur said, his voice tinted with amusement. His free hand quickly grabbed the bottle of whisky that was next to him and took a mouthful of alcohol.
“It would not be a bad thing,” You pressed a kiss against his chin and he hummed in response, delighted by the way you showered him with tenderness. Arthur would have been purring under your touch if he had been able to do so. It just felt good — so good the whole world could have gone down in flames he wouldn’t mind as long as you kept pampering him like you were doing. You made him feel loved. You made him feel at peace… And God knows how much he needed that. “Especially for Michael. Have you seen his girlfriend Nora? She looked exhausted.”
“She just gave birth to her second child. Of course, she’s exhausted, love.” He said. His hand, which had been playing with your hair until then, slowly ran down your naked back.
“Hm.” That was all you replied, for you felt Michael’s girl was more than just physically exhausted. Something was definitely off in their relationship, but you did not want to mingle. “Their daughter is lovely, though.”
“She is.”
Another silence fell in the bedroom, only embellished by the relaxing cracking of the woods burning in the hearth. Both of you had closed your eyes, slowly drifting away into Morpheus’ kingdom.
“Angel?” He called you with a sleepy voice.
“Yes, Arthur?” You answered, dozing off.
“ I’d love to have kids with ye, eh. Little white-haired and blue-eyed us running barefoot in the forest… Little embodiments of our love brightening our life.” His voice was merely a whisper now for he was slowly falling asleep, “I’ve always wanted to be a dad… but thought I was too messed up for that.”
“You aren’t.” You smiled and let your fingers lazily graze his skin, your nails crossing through his chest hairs and ending their race on his heart, right where his tattoo was “I want it too Arthur. I want it too.”
Sleep made the last word of your sentence die on your lips. Now, the hullabaloo of the party was no more. All the remaining noises were the harmonious murmurs of your slow breathings and the lullaby sung by the fire, which had never been so comforting.
✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.
✞ Tag list: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms
✞ Nora Gray belongs to @amidst-wonderland || Rose Solomons belongs to @raincoffeeandfandoms || Kat Wilson belongs to my sweet partner @callme-fox
✞ Each chapter of this series can be read as stand-alone even though it's far more enjoyable if you have read at least the previous chapter.
#Peaky blinders imagine#Arthur shelby x reader#Arthur shelby#Peaky blinders x reader#Tommy shelby fanfic#Arthur shelby x oc#Arthur shelby x ofc#peaky blinders#Tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby x reader#Peaky blinder fanfic#Heaven Shelby#John Shelby#John Shelby x reader#Polly Gray#Arthur shelby imagine#peaky blinders x y/n#peaky blinders x oc#Paul Anderson#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x oc#x reader#reader insert
346 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
wonuwoe
under construction
kaidashade
Only good for hugs and hyperactive jiggle physics
leopardmask-ao3
this blog contains my current fixation
sprayscience-blog
SprayScience - Daily Graffiti Pictures & Vidoes
feetpromoter
Male Feet