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#also the way you drew his frown ??
mimicmimikyuwrites · 1 month
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Loyalty is Hot - Adam (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Reader SMUT
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Request: "I was hoping for a fic where Reader is Adam's third wife and they meet Lucifer (maybe in a meeting?) and he states how he could take Reader from Adam as well. Adam is kind of internally panicking as Lucifer states what it took to take his other two wives until Reader gets all fed up and rudely puts him in his place. Causing Adam to get all hot and bothered for his wifey and their loyalty?"
Contents/Possible Warnings: P in V sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, praise kink, creampie, semi-public sex (they fuck in a meeting room), Adam being himself, creampie, slight angst, SMUT, MDNI
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You hated meetings, or waking up for them more specifically. It seemed that every time your husband dragged you to one it was at the earliest time possible, a time you'd much rather be spending in bed with him, enjoying the time of day where Heaven was at its most peaceful. It was also the time of day when Adam, sleepy and in a loving mood, was least annoying (which pained you a bit to admit, especially considering how much you loved him.)
"Hey! Wake the fuck up, babe! Don't fall asleep on me, not here." Adam nearly shouted, gently poking at you before you fell asleep on his shoulder in the meeting room. You opened your eyes with a sigh, keeping your head rested against your husband.
"Who are we even meeting with? More importantly, why haven't they shown up yet? It's been at least an hour," You questioned, a rising annoyance in your voice. Adam had sprung this meeting on you at the literal last minute, saying something along the lines of 'I need to show off my hot-as-fuck wife,' before practically dragging you out of bed; no more information given. Being the good wife you were, you accompanied him, albeit with some complaining. The last thing you were expecting, however, was for the meeting to be in Hell.
"We're meeting with Lucifer," He explained, the wide grin on his face shown on his mask. "I can't wait to see that fucker's face when he sees how sexy you are and realizes that you're all mine." One of his hands moved down to place itself on your thigh as he leaned in, smirking. "Who knows, maybe I'll even bend you over and fuck you right here on this table while he—"
You glared at him, smacking his hand away with a hiss of his name. He drew it back, letting out an amused laugh. "We are here on business," You reprimanded, an upset frown on your face. "Could you at least save the horny talk for after the meeting? Y'know when we're not in Hell?" Despite your reaction, you had to admit that the idea your husband had conjured up was kinda hot when you thought about it more in depth.
Fuck, you could see it now, feel it even. Back pressed against the table while your husband loomed over you, beautiful golden eyes staring into yours as you spread your legs for him. His thick cock sinking into you slowly, only for him to start with a quick, animalistic pace–just the way you liked it. Fuck, and the way his hands would reach out, grabbing at whatever he could; your ass, tits, thighs, anything that was soft and grabbable.
You hadn't realized the blush that had spread across your face until you saw your husband's smug grin. "Awww, did that turn you on, baby?" He cooed, almost mockingly. "Remember what you said, 'Save it for after the meeting.' Can't jump on me just quite yet." He leaned back in his chair, the grin on his face only growing as you shot him a harsh glare. As much of a lover of sex as he was, Adam loved teasing you even more.
You opened your mouth to argue back at him, slightly embarrassed by his use of your own words against you, but you were cut off by the sound of the door opening and closing. You turned your head, spotting the King of Hell himself. He looked just the way Adam had always described: pale white skin, rosy red cheeks, golden hair, noseless, and short. So short.
You stood from your seat as Lucifer approached the table, the sound of his boots against the tile of the floor filling the otherwise large, quiet room. You smiled, holding out a hand to shake, your typical behavior for business matters, regardless of who it was. "Hello, Your Majesty," You greeted politely, earning an eye roll from your husband next to you.
Lucifer returned your smile with one of his own, taking your hand and shaking it. "Who might this beautiful angel be, Adam?" He questioned, pressing a light kiss to your hand before letting it go and sitting down. Adam smirked as you sat back in your seat next to him, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you in close; not letting his annoyance at Lucifer's small display of affection be visible on his face.
"This is (Y/N), my wife. She's gorgeous, isn't she? A real hottie. Did I mention she's my wife?" He introduced, taking pride in having you by his side. Lucifer glanced at you, looking unamused by Adam's obvious boast before smiling at you. "Well, I certainly hope she's happy with you. Y'know, considering your history with your other wives." He antagonized, covering it up with a polite tone.
Adam's smile faltered. A sensitive topic had been brought up, one that challenged your husband's confidence. You looked between the two, taking note of how they glared at each other with mutual hatred. Lucifer turned his attention fully onto you, leaning in slightly. "Tell me, dear. Does he even satisfy you? Are you happy with him?" You opened your mouth slightly in shock, taken back by the sudden, blunt questioning.
"Fuck you! Of course she's happy with me!" Adam growled. "She's not like those last two bitches who'd settle for you of all people, you short fuck." Despite his assertion, you could hear the doubt in his voice, like he was trying to convince himself of it, too. Lucifer grinned, sharp teeth on full display, not affected whatsoever by your husband's burst of anger.
"It's not my fault that your wives like me better, Adam," Lucifer replied snidely. "All it took for Lilith was a man who did more than the bare minimum, and as for Eve, all it took was giving her a choice of who she wanted to be with for once, and that someone certainly wasn't you."
Lucifer then motioned to you. "I wonder what it'll take for me to win your third wife over, probably not much, to no fault of her own. You're probably leaving her just as unhappy as you did the last two, Adam." You watched as Adam tensed up at Lucifer's words, any confidence now gone as he struggled to keep up his self-absorbed facade.
"T-Thats not true," He stuttered, one of the few times you had ever seen him do so in all of the years you had known him. The drop in Adam's demeanor was the final straw, and you calmly got up from your seat. Both men's eyes followed you, watching your movements closely. Even with the mask on his face, you could see the fear in your husband's eyes as he watched you approach Lucifer.
"Honey? Baby?" Adam called out to you, watch as your face morphed into one of pure anger; a sight that even scared the King of Hell himself. They both knew that you were far from happy, and that was never a good thing.
"First of all, Lucifer," You hissed, saying his name with pure malice. "I am not Lilith, nor am I Eve. I may have been created with the same purpose in mind, but let it be known that we are far from similar." You slowly got closer to him, almost like a predator stalking its prey in the most terrifying way possible. "Second of all, yes I am happy. Clearly happier with Adam than Lilith was with you, considering how she up and left you and went only God knows where. I also don't see Eve around."
Lucifer's smile fell for the first time that day, and with it, his pride. Adam watched in astonishment as you continued to put Lucifer in his place. "Finally, I need you to understand that you're far from being my type. You're a coward who barely governs his people, yet so proudly calls himself the boss. Then you waltzed in here acting like you knew me better than I know myself, even when we had just met. I love Adam with every fiber of my being, even if he's the most obnoxious jackass I've ever met."
You got even closer, causing Lucifer to lean back in an attempt to escape you. "Oh, and for the record—" You leaned into his ear. "Adam fucks me better than I'm sure you've ever fucked anyone else in your pathetic life. So, yes, he does satisfy me." You whispered. You pulled back suddenly, a smile on your face. "Is that understood?"
Lucifer gulped, nodding in reply. "Lovely." You grinned, moving back to Adam. "Now, I'm afraid we're out of time. We'll have to reschedule this meeting for another day, preferably with someone else. Maybe you can send someone in your stead? Someone who's more politically involved in your Kingdom's workings, perhaps."
Lucifer let out an awkward laugh, standing up before making his way to the door, mumbling something about how we would send his daughter instead next time, before leaving. You stood triumphant, hands on your hips as you watched his departure.
"I—" Adam began, almost at a loss for words. "Are you aware how fucking hot that was!? Holy shit—" He pulled you down into his lap, pulling his mask off before crashing his lips against yours, kissing you eagerly. He pulled you down by the hips, grinding you against him, causing you to feel his growing hard-on through the fabric of his robes. "Fuck–Please, I know you said we have to wait, but please please please let me fuck you right here. Need you now."
You grinded down, a moan escaping both of you. "Why don't you do what you said you'd do earlier, hmm? Fuck me right here on this table, Adam." He bent you over the table, and you let him pull your skirt up just enough for him to be able to then tug your underwear off, tossing it aside somewhere in the room.
"Impatient today, aren't you, hon?" You teased playfully, looking back to find him not even bothering to take off his robes, choosing to pull them up instead. He chuckled, placing his hands on your hips as he lined himself up with your entrance. "Seeing you put annoying little fucks like Lucifer in their place does things to me, baby." He purred, thrusting in.
You let out a gasp at the feeling, his thick cock stretching you out perfectly. His pace was quick from the start, hips snapping against yours as the sound of it all filled the room. "I bet Lucifer couldn't fuck you like this now, could he? No, you need a real man to show you who you belong to." Adam groaned, kissing and nipping at your neck.
"H-He could never," You stuttered, struggling to speak as your mind went foggy from pleasure. "I need—Oh, fuck!" You let out a cry as his fingers found your clit, rubbing at it. "That's a good girl, let all those pretty little noises out." He praised, the sound of your moans more beautiful than any Heavenly choir to him.
"You're so much better than those other whores," He moaned, pounding into you, eyes screwed shut in pure ecstasy. "My perfect fucking wife, the love of my life—Shit—" He let out a growl as you clenched down on him. He let out a sweet laugh, hands moving up to grab at your tits while he fucked into you. "Oh? The praise turns you on, huh? You should be honored to receive it from me."
A mix of your moans and his spread throughout the room as you both drew closer to your climaxes, your shared noises growing louder and louder by the second. "Fuck," He cursed, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he rutted into you. "Gonna cum, 'm gonna fill you up. Maybe I'll even put a baby in you just to show Lucifer how in love with me you are."
"Do it—" You begged, legs quivering as he angled his cock in just the right way for the tip to graze your sweet spot. "Cum inside me Adam, let them know that I'm yours. All yours—A-Adam!" Your orgasm hit you with sudden force, the feeling coursing through you.
"Yesyesyes! Feels so fucking good cumming around me—" The sensation of your pussy contracting around him during your orgasm pushed him over the edge, and he came, shooting thick ropes of cum deep inside of you.
You rested your face against the table, no longer able to hold yourself up by your arms after the energy your climax had used up. Your orgasm subsided, but your body still shook, lightly trembling from the enjoyable onslaught it had just endured. You took deep breaths as Adam pulled out of you, feeling his cum leaking out of your well-fucked cunt.
He pressed soft kisses to your neck, holding you as you both basked in your post-orgasmic bliss together. "I love you," He mumbled against your neck, smiling. "You seriously have no idea how grateful I am for you to be my wife. You're absolute perfection, sweetheart." He pulled himself off of you, sitting back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face. "You think some sinner scum is gonna have to clean our mess up? That shit would be hilarious."
You sighed, shooting him a harsh look that he only laughed at. "Adam," You warned. "Have some respect, would you?" He laughed again, pulling you down into his lap, grinning. "Respect? Baby, we just screwed in a fancy meeting room. We are past the point of failing to show respect."
He leaned in closer to you, mischief in his golden eyes. "Now, why don't we go for a round two?"
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prythianpages · 2 months
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When I Kissed the Teacher | Azriel
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Summary: After crushing on Azriel for almost a year, Nesta dares you to kiss him during Valkyrie training.
Warning: reader thirsting for Az and fluff for my batboy ♥
A/N: @daycourtofficial suggested this song and idea! Though I did a poll and Az won, I couldn't help myself and also write a version for Cas (you can read it here) as a huge thank you for following and reading my stuff. I just reached 1K followers ♥
This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (:
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The first moment you saw Azriel, you were instantly drawn to him. 
His sun kissed skin radiated warmth. The hazel depths of his eyes hinted at wisdom earned through ages. His dark hair, a cascade of silken strands, framed a face sculpted to perfection. The Illyrian leathers he wore were a gift from the gods themselves as they only highlighted the well-defined muscles that lay beneath…
And his wings? Gods, those wings of his. They were massive yet delicate and iridescent. The way they always unfurled with such grace had your own wings fluttering in response.
But it wasn’t just the arresting beauty that surpassed all males you’ve encountered that drew you in. It was the impeccable way he carried himself. The mastery he exuded in combat, the patience he had while training you because if you’re going to be honest, you’re sure you pushed him past his limits. Yet, no matter how tough he was on you during training, Azriel was always kind to you outside of training grounds.
It didn’t take you long to fall for him and it didn’t matter how much you unleashed your inner turmoil onto the punching bag. Nothing could shake the strange fluttering sensation in your stomach every time your mind drifted to him. It’s like there were a million butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
Sweat glistens on your forehead and your eyebrows furrow in concentration, too lost in your thoughts to pay mind to the silent spectator that had arrived minutes ago…until he finally steps out from the shadows and speaks.
“I’d hate to be the one on your mind right now.”
A misplaced punch lands awkwardly, causing a sharp pain to shoot through your hand. “Azriel,” you breathe, your cheeks flushing as you cradle your hand close to your chest. If only he knew…
“Fuck,” Azriel curses, hazel eyes flashing with concern. He swiftly closes the distance between and gently takes your injured hand into his, inspecting it with a small frown. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You could never scare me.”
Azriel raises an eyebrow, eyes lifting to meet yours. “Is that so?” He replies, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I think I may be going too soft on you then”
“Soft?” You exhale in an incredulous manner, remembering the way your last training session with Azriel had ended. 
He had taunted you and your Illyrian blood had heated at the challenge in his words, allowing him to coax you into combating him. Of course, you were no match for him. You had begun training only a year ago, thanks to Emerie’s invitation. Azriel had centuries on you. Your muscles were still aching from the aftermath.
Azriel chuckles. “Come,” he says, guiding you back into the house. His hand holds onto your wrist lightly, being careful so as not to hurt your injured hand further. “Let’s get you patched up.”
**
As Azriel carefully attends to your hand, you can’t help the way your gaze lingers on him. His features are tense with concentration and concern, unbothered by the dark fringe that falls slightly over his eyes. Your uninjured hand is itching to run through those dark strands and brush his hair back for him.
You swear your heart skips a beat when Azriel lifts his gaze, catching your brazen staring. A flush spreads across your cheeks, and you quickly avert your gaze, missing the subtle, self-satisfied smile that graces Azriel's lips.
The sudden intrusion of Nesta breaks the spell, her figure leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms, an amused twinkle in her gaze. While you were oblivious to Azriel's reaction, Nesta, caught the soft smile he allowed himself.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Both of you turn your heads to find Nesta. There’s a smirk on her face as her eyes flicker between you and Azriel.
“Uh, no. Not at all,” you stammer, attempting to mask your embarrassment. “Just a little injury, that’s all.”
“Nothing to worry yourself over, Nesta,” Azriel chimes in, lowering his gaze to secure the bandage wrapped around your hand. “All done.”
“Thanks, Azriel.”
Azriel rises to his feet, and the shadows that dance around his shoulders seem to buzz with excitement over the soft way you had said his name. He pats your thigh, suppressing his smile as he stands.
Nesta's smirk transforms into a sly grin, her keen eyes not missing the way Azriel keeps his gaze averted from you to save you from further embarrassment. It doesn’t matter, anyway. His shadows are happy to inform him of the mortified look you send Nesta’s way followed by the way you silently mouth “stop” at her. 
"Well, that’s great news,” Nesta replies, grasping your uninjured hand and pulling you to your feet. “Thank you for taking care of her, Az. Now, if you don’t mind, y/n here is late to girl’s night.”
As Nesta ushers you out, Azriel watches with a mixture of amusement and warmth in his hazel eyes. Unbeknownst to you, the unexpected emotions that had taken residence in your heart were mirrored in Azriel’s.
**
Under the soft glow of fairy lights, you sit cross-legged on the plush rug, facing Nesta while Emerie and Gwyn sit on either side of you. An array of snacks, provided by the sentient house, sits in the middle of the circle you and your friends formed. And of course, it wouldn’t be a girl’s night without the age-old game of truth or dare.
“Your turn,” Emerie grins at you, exchanging a knowing look with the other two females. “Truth or dare?”
Given the mischievous glint in Nesta’s eyes, it was an obvious choice for you. Truth would be the safer option. Emerie’s grin falters, disappointed by your choice.
However, Gwyn sees an opportunity. She wraps her blanket tighter around herself, shifting in her spot eagerly. She leans forward to grab a chocolate covered strawberry before nonchalantly asking: “Do you like Azriel?”
Nesta scoffs, throwing her hands in the air. “Oh, come on. Like we even have to ask.”
“True,” Gwyn giggles. “But I want to hear her say it.”
Heat rises to your cheeks for the third time tonight, creating a persistent warmth that makes you wonder if you might give yourself a fever. Your friends collectively hold their breaths in anticipation. Nesta’s gaze remains fixed on you, unwavering.
“Yes.”
The room erupts into squeals and teasing remarks, and your eyes widen, urging them to hush, terrified that Azriel, who is upstairs, might hear. It’s a futile attempt as their cheers only grow louder, making you bury your face in her hands.
“He likes you too.”
Your peak out from beneath your fingers. “What makes you say that?”
Nesta laughs in response but Emerie and Gywn are quick to tease you even further.  Gywn assumes the role of Azriel while Emerie assumes the role of you as they exchange glances and lingering touches. The two females jump to their feet and wooden swords appear in front of them. You look up with a glare directed at the sentient house.
With a swift flick of her wrist, Gwyn uses her wooden sword to knock Emerie’s out of her hand. “Again,” Gwyn nearly growls as she tries to mimic Azriel’s deep voice.
“I can’t,” Emerie replies, feigning shyness.
“I don’t sound like that!” You cry out in disbelief, turning to Nesta. “I don’t sound like that, right?”
Nesta shrugs her shoulders, eyes sparkling with mirth at the scene before her. Emerie and Gwyn ignore your protests, continuing to pretend to be you and Azriel.
“Oh, Azriel, my love,” Emerie swoons, the back of her hand flying to her forehead while her other hand hangs in the air. “I think I sprained my wrist.”
Gwyn gasps dramatically, diving in to catch Emerie before she could fall back against the fortress of pillows behind her. “No, not my sweet y/n, who I’m absolutely smitten with” Gwyn coos, bringing Emerie’s “injured” hand to her lips and kissing it.
Then, Gwyn and Emerie absolutely lose it, the two females falling onto the fortress of pillows as laughter consumes them, unfazed by the glare you’re now directing to them. Nesta stifles her own laughter, turning her attention back to you.
“He definitely likes you,” she repeats, her words awakening the butterflies in your stomach. You wonder if she can hear them fluttering too. “But he won’t make the first move. You’re going to have to do it yourself.”
“Absolutely not!”
 Nesta grins at you. “We’ll see about that.”
“Whatever,” you huff out. “It’s your turn now. Truth or dare?”
The night wears on, filled with more laughter, more shared secrets, and the occasional embarrassing dare. You got your friends back by daring them to have multiple spoonfuls of ice cream and tomato sauce. The house keeps you well supplied with snacks and your glasses of wine never go empty.
When it’s your turn again, you hesitate for a moment. You had thought “truth” had been the safer option but now, you know there is no safe option.
This time, you decide to be brave.
“Dare.”
"Fucking finally," Emerie grins, looking at Nesta while Gwyn smiles at you. Their plan is unfolding seamlessly...
“We dare you to kiss Azriel tomorrow after training.”
Your eyes widen in panic. “What? No way!”
Nesta, seemingly unfazed, inspects her nails with feigned boredom. "Coward," she mutters under her breath.
Her words, though hushed, ignite something deep within you. Your Illyrian blood stirs, the challenge resonating in your veins. Your eyes narrow, fixing on Nesta. "What did you say?"
Nesta meets your gaze as she repeats herself. Louder, this time. “Coward.”
The room falls into a hushed silence as your friends await your response. You bite your lip, contemplating the audacious dare. It was not in your nature to back down from a challenge.
After what felt like an eternity, you let out a deep exhale.
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
**
You didn’t sleep at all last night but as Azriel circles around you, his eyes holding a glint of challenge, you are wide awake. Emerie, Gwyn and Nesta watch from the benches facing the sparring grounds while Cassian watches from a closer distance, keenly assessing your every move. Too caught up in your feelings over Azriel, you had failed to realize that this morning’s training session was an evaluation of the skills you had been working on over the past couple of months.
To say you're nervous was an understatement because not only did you have to prove yourself as the aspiring Valkyrie you’d like to become, you also had to prove to Nesta that you were not a coward. Taking a deep breath, your grip tightens on your sword.
Azriel, with his wings casting shadows on the ground, moves with grace. Each movement is precise and deliberate as your swords meet in a flurry of strikes, the sound of steel ringing in the air. Though you struggle, you do your best to keep up and hold your ground, determination burning bright.
Sweat begins to cling to your skin and your envious of the way Azriel hasn’t even broken a sweat himself. With every strike of his and every parry of yours, he continues to push you, his strikes growing harsher and stronger. You literally blink and in that swift second, Azriel knocks your sword out of your grip. A hiss escapes you and you swear your hear Gwyn and Emerie snicker from the sidelines as they find this situation all too familiar.
With a sweep of his leg, you lose your balance and find yourself falling onto one of the training mats. Azriel’s lips twitch upwards as he points his sword toward you. “Do you yield?”
You are weaponless and at his mercy but your stubbornness continues to burn bright. “No.”
In a sudden burst of energy, you land a kick on him, knocking his sword out of his grip just as he did to yours. The bold move leaves him momentarily stunned, his shadows coiling back in surprise. You take full advantage of his distraction, hooking your other leg behind his knees and bringing him down to the mat with you.
Azriel can only blink up at you as you straddle him, eyes widening when he feels a dagger–his dagger–pressed against his throat. How did you–
He’s unable to finish his thought as you shift above him and swallows thickly at the sensation of your body on top of his. The way your breathing is shallow and uneven and the way he can feel the warmth radiating off your body–
“You will.”
Your words have his attention drifting back to you. A radiant smile breaks across your face and his own lips curl upwards, hazel eyes softening as they stare into yours. “I yield,” he murmurs, ever so quietly, you wonder if you imagined it.
Your gaze drifts down to his lips and then back to his eyes. He does the same. And then the next moment, you’re kissing him. Softly and hesitantly, at first, but when Azriel responds, your heart fills with warmth. Your lips move against his with eager urgency.
Truthteller falls from your grasp and you bring your hand to grasp at the back of his neck instead, pulling him even closer. His hands find their place at your waist to keep you in place but then screams and squeals are piercing through the air. You’re immediately pulling away and jumping to your feet, absolutely flustered because in the heat of the moment, you had forgotten all about the audience you had.
You glance down at Azriel, desperately seeking a sign, but his expression is a mix of surprise and confusion. He looks nearly petrified. Your heart races and you begin to wonder if perhaps, you are a coward because all you want to do is run.
Your hand flies to your mouth. Doubts claw at the edges of your courage. What if Nesta was wrong? What if Azriel didn't like you? And you've just made a fool of yourself in front of him–your teacher– and your friends. 
Turning around, your eyes meet with the delightfully entertained audience. Gwyn and Emerie, caught up in the drama, cling to each other with excitement and unrestrained giggles. Nesta stands with the same smirk she gave you the night before though there’s a flicker of surprise in her blue-grey eyes. She hadn't expected you to follow through with the dare.
Meanwhile, Cassian’s gaze is fixed on the body behind you and he throws his head back in laughter. Ignoring the whispers and amused glances from those around you, you hastily make your exit, blind to the way you left Azriel a blushing fool.
Cassian approaches his friend, who remains rooted to his spot on the floor. Azriel is still processing the whirlwind of emotions you've stirred within him. There’s a teasing grin on Cassian’s lips. “Are you okay there, Az? You look a little–”
Azriel snaps out of the trance you've cast upon him to glare up at his friend. “Fuck off.”
He then jumps to his feet, dusting himself off and ignoring the curious glances of the females nearby. Determination fills his eyes as his head turns toward the direction you ran off to. He fears you have misinterpreted his initial shock and he can’t let this moment slip away. 
He needs to feel your soft lips against his again and more importantly, he needs to tell you that he feels the same way.
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a/n: Hope you all enjoyed this one! Cas's version is already up!
tagging: @hellodarling1357, @kennedy-brooke, @scooobies
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breadbrobin · 4 months
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lavender roses
luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
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[fem!daughter of persephone reader]
summary: everyone thinks red roses are synonymous with the perfect love. you believe that lavender roses deserve more love, and luke believes that you’re worthy of all the love in the world—you’re both just bad at communicating it.
warnings: kissing, swearing, suggestive content, mentions of weapons, idiots, miscommunication trope but it’s cute dw, seriously they’re both so stupid and oblivious, besties to idiots to lovers
word count: 3.3k
(y’all i’m losing my mind i can’t stop writing but this might be one of my favourites ever)
(also i might put together a luke taglist and a clarisse taglist so lmk if you wanna be put on either of those and i’ll get to work on it 🤩)
———————————————
“i’m free february fourteenth,” you said nonchalantly.
you were sitting with luke at dinner and he’d just asked you if you ever had a day off working. as a daughter of persephone, you lived in the hermes cabin, but spent most of your time working in the strawberry fields. you spent every free moment there, soaking in the sun, helping the plants grow and picking flowers to put in vases around the cabin and infirmary.
he nodded as chris choked on his food beside him, coughing hard. “okay, we should hang out then.”
you weren’t sure if he knew what was going on. was he messing with you? playing a joke? really wanting to hang out with you on valentine’s day? or was he having a lapse of memory and he forgot that day had any significance at all?
either way, you nodded. when you spoke, your voice was slightly higher pitched than usual. “sure.”
“we can have a picnic. we haven’t done that in a while.” he was nodding still, looking into his food with a thoughtful expression.
the air nearly left your lungs. you nodded back, though he wasn’t looking at you, and exchanged a wide-eyed look with chris across the table. sure, you and luke used to go for picnics occasionally, but that was before he’d gotten unfairly attractive overnight and you’d developed the most annoying crush on him. “yeah, sure. it’s a date.”
if you could have jumped into tartarus you would have.
what the fuck. why would you say that?
chris was staring at you in shock.
your mouth was dry.
and luke was smiling like nothing was wrong. were his cheeks red? or was that your imagination? “yup! it’s a date.”
when he got up from the table to leave after dinner, he kissed your cheek. this wasn’t too far out of the ordinary, per se—it happened occasionally—but it sent a rush of adrenaline shooting down your spine and set your cheeks aflame.
chris’ eyebrows were raised. “what was that?”
“i have no idea,” you breathed.
“do you think he knows?”
your voice was even softer as you shook your head. “dude. i have no idea.”
valentine’s day couldn’t come soon enough.
you could hardly think of anything else. zoning out in the fields, losing focus while sparring, getting distracted by luke’s shoulder muscles while he was drawing back his bow, sending your arrow flying off to the side.
he laughed at you with everyone else, coming over to stand by your side. “you good there? need any help?”
you shook your head, your quaking fingers drawing the string back once more, pulling it taut. archery wasn’t your best skill, but you weren’t terrible at it.
you could feel his eyes on you, judging your form, analysing your aim. it put you off.
your arrow barely hit the target.
luke winced. “that was… better.”
you sighed and lowered the bow. “you’re distracting me!”
he laughed. “i’m distracting you?”
“yes!” you huffed, frowning at him. his eyes were lit up with amusement. “you are.”
“well, then i’m very sorry.” he raised his hands and took a step back, dipping his head too. “as you were, milady.”
you rolled your eyes with a smile and drew your arrow back, aiming and firing, but it still didn’t do well. in fact, every arrow that you shot pierced outside of the black rings. you were starting to think there was either something wrong with the bow or that you’d been cursed by one of the apollo kids, when someone’s hand lowered your elbow.
you looked over to see luke. he wasn’t watching your face. he was guiding your elbow down so it was more level with your arrow’s line and gently pulling your shoulders back so they were more even.
“pull back a bit more,” he coached quietly.
“i know what i’m doing,” you protested.
“i know, but today you look like you need a reminder. do you want my help? or do you wanna keep missing?” he finally looked you in the eye. he was sincere, you realised.
you sighed and draw the arrow back a little more.
he nodded happily and continued guiding your stance until you were perfect, his hands hot on your body and his breath on the back of your neck. he stayed behind you as you lowered the arrow and took a few deep breaths.
you were still watching him over your shoulder. his lips quirked as he reached out and gently turned your face away to look at the target. his hand was calloused and rough, but the tough was soft. you could barely breathe.
“focus,” he said softly. “eyes on the prize.”
you’re the only prize i want, was all you could think, but you didn’t say anything. you drew the arrow back, your fingers brushing against the corner of your lips. you felt better—more powerful, more confident—in this stance. and maybe luke’s presence behind you was helping with that too. you could feel the slight ghost of his hand on your waist. it kept you grounded. it stopped you from floating away.
your arrow pierced just beside the bullseye.
luke’s hand tightened on your waist, squeezing proudly. “that’s my girl.”
your heart fluttered as you smiled. “thanks, luke.”
he patted your lower back as he stepped away. “that’s what i’m here for. go kill it.”
then he was gone, and there was a fiery pit in your stomach that grew with each passing day that told you that—oh shit—you were in fully love with luke castellan.
february fourteenth arrived in a flurry of pinks, reds and whites. hearts adorned the camp, courtesy of the aphrodite cabin, and you and the demeter cabin had been tasked with growing what felt like hundreds of red roses. personally, you didn’t understand the hype surrounding red roses. after all, the lavender ones were the prettiest. they even meant love at first sight—far better than plain old love.
but with all the love in the air and the aphrodite campers swooning left and right, luke was sure to figure out his mistake and call off the picnic. it made you feel sick with anxiety, and your hands shook as you tended to the roses.
“y/n, hey!” luke’s voice came right next to you.
you flinched and the rose bush sprouted ten feet in the air with new flowers springing into existence left and right.
“whoa…” he said, looking up at it in shock. “i don’t think we need that many.”
“i don’t think anyone needs that many.” you muttered and took a deep breath, bringing the bush back down to size. “what are you doing here, luke?” your heart was in your throat. he didn’t look upset, but he’d always been good at hiding his emotions. was he about to tell you that he didn’t want to meet up later? or that he hated you for tricking him? thoughts started spinning like tops in your mind as you sunk into worse scenario after worse scenario.
“i just wanted to make sure we were still on for this afternoon? and to let you know to meet me by the lake.” were you imagining things, or did he look almost… nervous? his cheeks were red and he wasn’t meeting your eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. was he? really?
you nodded. “oh, uh, yeah. we’re still on. i’ll meet you…?”
“at two?”
“at two.” you smiled. he smiled back and you ignored the flutter in your chest. a strand of hair blew in front of your face.
his hand twitched by his side, like he wanted to push it back, but he just nodded. “okay. see you later.”
“later,” you nodded as he walked away. “can’t wait!” you called after him. he shot a grin over his shoulder, and once he was gone, you buried your face in the rose bush with an exasperated groan.
at 1:45, you still didn’t know what to wear.
your friend becky had dragged you into the aphrodite cabin and was shoving various outfits into your arms to try on, since you didn’t have many nice outfits of your own, but nothing was right.
even though you were the same size as her, nothing seemed to fit you as well as it did her—some aphrodite’s daughter bullshit, you guessed.
she sat down on her bunk next to you and sighed. “i hate to say it, but… we’re out of options.”
you groaned and flopped backwards, covering your face.
she swatted your hands away. “you’ll smudge your makeup!” she then sat back and sighed. “honestly, hun, you might just have to go naked.”
“i’m sure he’d love that!” one of her brothers called from across the room.
you threw a pillow at him, but it dropped halfway there.
then becky froze with a gasp. “oh, my gods.”
you sat up. “what?”
“wait here.” she got up and dashed away, peering into the depths of her wardrobe.
you watched absently, kind of worried she’d pull out some sexy lingerie, as she felt around at the very back, in the corner. then her face lit up. she pulled out a dress. it was white and floaty, with tiny pale pink flowers on it and the most flattering neckline you’d ever seen. she held it out to you and then dragged you to the designated changing area beside her bunk.
you changed slowly, not wanting to rip the delicate material, then looked at yourself in the mirror.
holy shit.
becky stuck her head around the corner and gasped. “perfect! ugh, i feel like a proud mother.”
you laughed, smoothing the floaty fabric over your thighs. it was kind of staticky. “yeah, thanks, mom.”
she grabbed your arm and dragged you out, showing you off. “siblings! my magnum opus.”
as whistles and cheers came from the few people in the cabin, you smiled.
“he’ll love it,” becky whispered. “you look hot.”
“it’s not even a date,” you protested. “it’s just a hang out.”
“sweet cheeks, its a picnic on valentine’s day.” she tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. “it’s a date. now go. you’re gonna be late.”
you slipped on your white sandals and the light green jacket you always wore, let silena slip a white headband into your hair, then stepped out the door.
it wasn’t a cold day, exactly, but you were grateful for the jacket.
you rushed down the lake and got there two minutes late.
luke was no where to be found.
great, you thought. he was messing with me the whole time.
just as you were considering leaving, you heard footsteps running up to you.
“y/n! i’m so sorry, i could figure out—oh, wow...” luke stopped in his tracks as you turned around. his eyes were wide and his cheeks were red as he looked you up and down. he cleared his throat. “i didn’t know what to wear.”
he’d settled on a navy blue crew neck sweater and black jeans. his hair was messy, like he’d been running his hands through it, and he looked good. really good.
shit. that would make things more difficult.
“it’s okay,” you smiled. “neither could i.”
“well, you look… you look amazing.” his voice was soft, almost reverent.
gods, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop blushing. this was torture. “thanks,” you said though, pretending your heart wasn’t climbing up your throat and threatening to jump right into his hands—like suicide. “should we—“
“oh! yeah.” he nodded and stepped forward, placing a hand on your back (just low enough that it made your heart stutter, but high enough that it was innocent) and leading you towards the strawberry fields. “this way, milady.”
your heart was sinking a little as the fields came into view. everyone went to the strawberry fields. there were at least seven couples there already. it was the standard date spot. you had to remind yourself this wasn’t a date.
but he led you past the fields and into the forest.
great, so he’ll just murder me instead, you thought bitterly. it was like you were searching for a reason that it wasn’t a date now. at least i won’t have to deal with the embarrassment of everyone seeing.
you snapped out of your thoughts as his hand gently slipped into yours and you nearly fell over. he looked back at you, amused. you shot him a thumbs up as he set down a familiar path.
you knew where you were going.
there was a clearing in the woods where you went. it was you own personal secret garden, hidden deep in the forest behind a thick hedge that you’d grown yourself. it had taken weeks to get it thick enough to keep your space safe, and weeks again to regain enough strength to add any other plants to it. in the last year though, you’d been going there often, coaxing a few new plants to grow. you’d learned that forcing growth was hard and near impossible, but encouraging growth was easy.
you’d shown luke the garden one day a few months ago, just before you developed that pesky crush.
he pulled you gently in front of him to enter the garden first, through a magically shifting gap in the hedge, so that he could enter too, and stepped aside to pick up a hefty bag hidden just off the path.
you stepped through the hedge, your hand still linked with luke’s, and into your garden. it was the same as last time you were there, around a week ago; filled with flowers and bees, with a patch of clear grass in the middle, linked to the hedge by four paths, running north to south and east to west. some of the flowers growing were out of season, but as a daughter of persephone, you had a certain level of influence over things like that. bees buzzed lazily around your head as you entered, happy to see you again. everything seemed to get happier, healthier and brighter the second you stepped into the garden. it was your favourite thing and your favourite place.
you looked back at luke to see him smiling at you. “you know me too well.”
“i knew you wouldn’t like to have everyone around,” he shrugged. “and i wanted to see this place again. it’s better than last time i was here.” he looked around in wonder.
“well, last time you were here, i’d just gotten over the flu, so i was still pretty weak. all of my hydrangeas wilted.” you pouted and crossed the garden to your hydrangea bush, blooming in all ranges of colours. soil acidity and pH didn’t matter if you were the daughter of persephone.
luke laid down a plaid picnic blanket as you murmured a few words to some of your weaker looking plants, breathing life back into them. you could feel his eyes on you as he sat and waited, but you didn’t feel rushed or observed. more than anything, you felt admired.
finally, you sat next to him. he’d set out some food and water bottles for the two of you. he was prepared. that was one thing about luke castellan: he was prepared, always two steps ahead. which is why this didn’t make sense.
as you started eating, you found yourself staring at a lavender rose bush. love at first sight, you mused. if only.
you’d fallen for luke after a whole year of friendship. that made it worse. you’d loved him already, platonically, then, without warning, those feeling shifted. the way you looked at him changed in a matter of moments. when he’d gotten cherries on his plate for dessert after you were told you couldn’t have more, then he’d given them all to you, claiming he didn’t like them (even though you knew he did), you fell stupidly, irrevocably, in love. but the way he looked at you never changed: always soft, always kind and always the same.
you were drawn to look at him. you always were. the sharp lines and soft curves of his face. those dark eyes that made your heart flutter never wavered as they met yours. never shifted, never darkened, never clouded with anger. never. they were as constant as time, as reliable as the tide, as predictable as the full moon coming around again.
and he was looking at you now. “what?” he asked.
you blinked and looked away, watching as two bees clumsily bumped into each other and went on their way. “nothing.” would that be you and luke? two bees bumping into each other briefly, then going on with their lives? unlikely to cross paths again? you couldn’t let that happen.
“you know it’s valentine’s, right?” you asked before you could stop yourself.
luke lowered his apple, resting his hand on his knee. his forehead was creased in a confused frown. “yeah, why?”
“well… then why… why are we hanging out today? i mean, this isn’t a date.” you paused. “is it?”
his eyes widened. “wait, you don’t think—“
“it’s fine, luke.” you shrugged, pretending your heart wasn’t crumbling. “it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have brought up valentines. it was a silly joke, and—“
“a joke?” he frowned again. “this isn’t a joke.”
you looked at him. he looked earnest. “what?”
“it’s not a joke. why would i joke about going on a date with you?” he swallowed tightly and put his apple down. “did you… did you just think it was a joke?”
“no! well, yes. but i didn’t want it to be.” you exclaimed. “did… you want it to be?”
“no!” he exclaimed, turning to face you. “why would i want that? i thought we’ve been dating for three weeks now!”
“you, what?”
he took a deep breath. “you’re telling me that i’ve been assuming we’re dating for three weeks, and you’ve been assuming i’ve been joking for three weeks, because we’re both a little bit fucking stupid and can’t communicate our feelings properly?”
you stared at him, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress. the static crackled like the tension in the air. “i guess so.”
“huh.” he said, turning back to face the flowers. he was silent for a moment and you almost thought he’d leave, but then he started laughing.
“stop laughing,” you protested, pushing him lightly, your cheeks flaming hot. “stop it.”
he didn’t.
soon, you weren’t able to stop yourself from giggling, then you were both laughing uncontrollably. your stomach hurt and you had to lean on each other to avoid falling over. your faces were close—too close. your laughter died as you felt his breath on your face. his fingers brushed your hair behind your ear. his breath hitched as he did, like he’d been waiting to do that for months.
“i’ve liked you for months,” you whispered.
“i’ve liked you since the moment we met,” he cupped your face in his hand, his other one resting on your knee.
you could see the lavender roses behind him. love at first sight.
the two bees that had bumped into each other settled on the same flower.
fucking hell.
you kissed him before you could talk yourself out of it.
the kiss wasn’t like fireworks. it was more like the first flowers of spring: fresh, exciting and pure. his lips were soft. yours were probably rougher than his from your long hours in the fields. you figured he didn’t care, because he kissed you like you were the only air he needed to breath for the rest of his life. you could feel flowers blooming around the picnic blanket—daisies and dandelions in the grass. the plants in the gardens were going wild. he was like a drug; some kind of amplifier for your powers and your heart rate and gods, you never wanted to let him go. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer against him. your hand rose to his cheek and static electricity jumped from your skin to his.
he pulled away with a gasp, his hand on his cheek. then he laughed, and kissed you again.
and again.
and again.
and again.
and you were infinitely glad for the privacy of your own secret garden.
2K notes · View notes
fangswbenefits · 11 months
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For Science
𓂅 𓄹 Summary: There has been a rumour circulating in regards to Miguel’s venom. It has to be too far-fetched, right?
𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
𓂅 𓄹 Warnings: 18+. Fangs. Biting. Venom!play (is that a thing?).
You eyed Jessica Drew with utmost interest as she worked her way around Miguel’s surveillance station, easily dragging files in and out of the multiple screens.
“Why do you get access to his stuff and I don’t?” you asked as sudden jealousy crept in.
“We go way back,” she started, pulling some information to her watch. “You’ll get there in time…”
Your ego soared.
“… if you don’t keep annoying him.”
It immediately plummeted.
“He’s easy to piss off,” you beamed. “And I’m easily entertained. What can I say? Match made in heaven.”
She chuckled at your antics. “Just don’t get yourself expelled.”
You nodded and waved your hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. So have you heard that rumour about him?”
Jessica finished setting up her watch and mission logs and threw you a suspicious look.
“Well… the one that says his venom does more than causing paralysis,” you wiggled your eyebrows, letting the not so subtle implication dangle.
“You know what? One day Miguel is going to kick you out and I won’t do anything about it.”
“What? I didn’t come up with this!”
It was absolutely true. You hard heard it from some spiders one night while strolling throught the lobby. Rumours came and went. No one thought much of them and these were just harmless fun.
“Well, I’m not commenting on this.”
“Fine! But it’s fascinating.”
Jessica sighed, rotated on her feet and went down the stairs. “You can go ask Miguel, then.”
“Ask Miguel what?”
You froze in place as spider-man 2099 entered the dark room, eying both of you.
“Oh, I’m out,” Jessica snorted, heading towards the exit. “You two have fun.”
Miguel kept his gaze on your and you waved a hand at him.
He frowned.
“Lyla, reroute all the main sectors to earth-1610,” he said, pressing on his dimensional travel watch. “Any possibility of a canon event being disrupted must be reported to Jessica.”
The AI appeared next to him and adjusted her heart-shaped glassed up the bridge of her nose. “Is she tagging along, too?” she pointed at you.
He shook his head. “Not a chance. She’s more useful here.”
“Hey!” you were about to protest, but decided against it.
You knew there was a compliment in there somewhere. Your past missions had not gone without some minor bumps, which was why it had been decided the previous day that you’d tag along Miguel for a couple of weeks to hone your off-field abilities.
“Anything major must be reported to me.”
Jessica nodded but Lyla was not so easily dismissed. “I didn’t hear you say iiit.”
Miguel rolled his eyes. “Thank you for your services as always, Lyla.”
She took a dramatic bow and vanished.
He took large steps towards the platform, greeting you with a curt nod.
How would you describe your relationship with Miguel O’Hara? Tense? On the verse of collapse each time you teased him? Friendly? But only when you didn’t have to spend more than one hour together.
“Morning to you, too, boss,” you saluted.
He let out an exasperated sigh as he checked the screens in front of him.
Maybe you should go easy on him. You were already on thin ice, but just adored pushing him. There was something about teasing him that just did wonders to you.
“Did you sleep well? Did you get some food?”
“Don’t start getting on my nerves.”
You raised both hands, feigning a look of innocence. “I did nothing. You’re paranoid.”
His head turned to you.
“You do have an issue obeying the chain of command. Your last mission was a disaster, because you got into an argument with Peter instead of focusing on the anomaly — don’t interrupt me!” he said pinching the bridge of his nose as you were about to defend yourself. “You have much to offer, but you’re also all over the place and lack discipline. I don’t think you—”
You gave him a jaw-popping yawn which effectively cut him off.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I boring you?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You do know that I was pressured by others to let go of you.”
A long pause stretched out.
“Then why didn’t you?”
In your mind, you had hoped your growing friendship with him had played a part, but…
“You have potential,” he said with a sigh. “One day you might even be better than me.”
Well, that was a high praise and your spine snapped straight instantly. “Really?”
“Maybe… probably not,” he concluded. “But if you keep your focus and work hard, you will be a very skilled spider.”
You rolled your eyes. “Woah, thanks a bunch!”
In truth, you knew Miguel was trying his best to smooth over your bruised ego, but your pride got the best of you.
“Any questions you have, just let me know,” he said reassuringly while glancing at the screens in front of him.
“I can ask anything?”
“Yes.”
“Sooo… have you heard that rumour about your venom?”
It was too early in the day to be so serious, so you genuinely saw no harm in lightening the mood.
He threw you a side glance. “Be specific.”
“Well… that it can cause extreme pleasure,” you blurted out. “Oh, besides the paralysis thingy,” you quickly added.
Miguel turned to fully face you. “I don’t even want to know where that came from.”
Deep down, you felt a pang of disappointment. It would be such an interesting finding.
“Ah, so it’s not true.”
“Probably not.”
That piqued your interest. “Probably? So there’s a chance? It’s just so fascinating, because you’re already so different from the rest of us,” you started rambling not able to hold back your enthusiasm. “Now this is just an added layer!”
You were a scientist at heart and Miguel was pretty much an outlier when it came to being a spider-man. For months you had been trying to let him agree to you running some tests, but to no avail.
In all honesty, Miguel knew his way around science and the inner workings of biology better than you could ever, so he had no reason to indulge your curiosity.
“How do you do it? Is it the same venom or a different one?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Science, remember?”
It was a half truth, though. Yes, this would be mind-blowing science-wise, but this was also about Miguel O’Hara. The very man who had been guiding you through spider society for months. The same men who whose genius and dedication had built the foundations of the spider society.
He now had both hands on his hips and you figured you were already pushing it too far, but enjoyed doing it too much to stop now.
“Can you just tell me how it works? Please?” You clasped your hands together into a beg, hoping it would be enough to bait him for information.
But Miguel remained unfazed.
“No.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” you offered expectantly.
He didn’t budge.
“Please, pretty please?” you tried once again.
Nothing.
“I’ll bring you empanadas every single day from now on,” you enthused. “On demand! Whenever you have those cravings. Two in the morning? Check! Canon event disrupted and universes imploding? Check!”
Miguel quirked an eyebrow. “Do you ever shut up?”
“Is that a yes?”
“No.”
“Just show me how it works,” you sounded desperate by now. Arguing with Miguel ranked high up with the likes of trying to move a boulder with a wooden fork. “How did you get it to work?”
His eyes to widened slightly. “Show you?” he started out. “Are you asking me to pleasure you?”
Now that was probably on your top three of ‘Things you never expect Miguel O’Hara to say’.
“Oh — I mean… well… what?” you stammered, caught by surprise. “I didn’t — you know… huh…”
He only glared at your babbling self.
“Are you… offering?”
Miguel extended his arm to you. “Give me your hand.”
You panicked. “What? Now?”
“For science, right?”
Point taken.
You hesitated momentarily. “You’re not going to paralyse me, right?”
“Do you want me to?”
You offered your hand for him to grip, flipping it palm up. “No.”
“Then I won’t.”
Miguel’s voice was so flat he could just be reading items off a grocery list.
His gloved fingers traced the heel of your palm and his eyes darted down. You held your breath at the sight of him lowering his head. “This might sting.”
And just like that, you watched in complete awe as Miguel O’hara bared his fangs, slowly raking them across your skin before digging into the flesh.
“Ouch!”
Your stomach turned and your heart fluttered as his warm lips grazed the spot he had just bitten. Two circular and symmetrical openings pooled with a tiny amount if blood.
“So? Do you feel a wave of intense carnal bliss?” Miguel asked, straightening up and brushing the droplets away with his thumb.
You merely stood there, waiting for something — anything — to kick in. But as tense seconds ticked by, it was evident nothing was happening.
“No…”
He shrugged, letting go of your hand to tap his watch. “Ah, well. My pleasuring abilities must be below par this morning.”
You scowled at him and considered smashing his arm with a fist. “You could have just said it was all a lie!” you grunted in sheer annoyance, feeling like an idiot. “Now I’m bleeding to death.”
“You’re not going to die.”
“You’re annoying,” you huffed as you checked the bite marks.
“It’s not a lie. I can indeed inject an innocuous version of my venom that can be quite pleasurable,” he said.
“Then do it!” you said, your temper flaring.
Miguel wasn’t one to take orders. He was much more into being the one to call the shots, but your curiosity was eating you alive now that he had revealed that this rumour had some truth to it.
He was now looming over you, his impressive height adding to the tension. “It depends on where I inject the venom. Certain places are more effective,” his voice was uncharacteristicly low as his eyes landed on your neck. “This is just scientific curiosity, right?”
Your mouth had gone too dry to reply, so you just shrugged. Miguel had you taking a few steps back until your lower back hit the railing that lined the platform, causing your hands to clasp around it reflexively.
“Tilt your head.”
You did as you were told and felt his fingers tracing along your jaw, angling you just the way he wanted.
“Hold on tight,” he said, breath now fanning the prickling skin of your neck. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”
Feeling your face heat up from the sudden close proximity, you closed your eyes as if embracing for impact. He pressed his lips to your pulse point before digging his fangs slowly into you.
Your mouth dropped open, aghast, and you finally felt it. His venom poured from the fangs and into your bloodstream, spreading through your veins like wildfire. At first, it was just merely a pleasant sensation, like the one you’d get as you finally drank water after a hot day in the sun.
But it soon turned into something else, and unlike water, the new overwhelming feeling was leaving you thirstier with each thump of your racing heart.
Miguel had his hand on the back of your neck, keeping you in place. He moaned first ��� no, he grunted —, and you felt a jolt of almost painful pleasure shot down your spine and spread between your thighs.
Your grip on the metal surface wavered momentarily and you feared you might fall, but were firmly grounded by his other hand on your waist. It didn’t take long until your clit started throbbing in unison with your heartbeat.
“Miguel… this… this…”
Suddenly, your suit felt too tight and in the way, especially once he pressed lightly into you.
The venom was no longer being injected, but the remnants of it were enough to wreak havoc throughout your body.
“It’s just for science…” he growled, pulling his fangs away from you. “Does it feel good?”
You didn’t dare open your eyes and could only gasp when you felt him push his erection into you.
“Yeah… science… or whatever…” you gasped, feeling yourself being pushed over the edge with each second that passed.
Just when you thought your orgasm would hit you slowly, Miguel tilted your head to the side, exposing the intact skin.
You gripped his wrist as if holding on for dear life, fearing you’d explode. “Again?”
“Your body is neutralising my venom too fast,” he rumbled, lips hovering a sensitive spot. “I need to inject more.”
“Miguel…” you nearly cried out at the thought of your heart no being able to handle the intense pleasure.
“Look at me.”
Your breathing evened briefly as you did as commanded, his red eyes fixed on yours, pupils fully blown.
“Think you can do this?”
You blinked.
“I know you can take more.”
Your clit was now throbbing at an alarming rate at the promise of more of him.
Miguel flashed you his blood-tipped fangs before sinking them into you once again.
The liquid traveled through your body so fast, you felt like someone had punched the air out of your lungs. You vaguely wondered if you would die from this, and concluded that there were worse ways to go.
Being on the receiving end of Miguel’ dry humps would be enough to make anyone tip over the edge, let alone with the added layer of venom engulfing you into an explosive orgasm.
Your vision blurred in an instant as spams and contractions swept through your body. The friction of his clothed cock rubbing against your clit had you arch your back into him, feeling the bittersweet realisation that you were clamping around nothing. You weren’t sure if this was his venom’s doing, but you felt an overwhelming part of you wishing he had been inside you.
It hurt.
It hurt so good and lasted for so long, you like crying from the overwhelming tide of pleasure.
Miguel gave you time to ride out your orgasm, pressing a bloodied kiss to your lips, swallowing your cries.
Metallic taste filled your mouth and you broke away from him, gasping for air.
Your eyes landed on his crotch.
He was hard. Painfully hard. A faint stain of precum seeping through the material of his suit.
“You okay?”
You bent over, hands on your knees and laboured breaths.
“Are you?” you managed in between gasps.
Miguel crouched to eye-level with you. “I think you owe me one.”
“Yeah…” you nodded, swallowing hard. “Thanks for the… scientific… huh… demonstration.”
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Masterlist
6K notes · View notes
introloves · 8 months
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𝐎𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄
money tied to love shouldn’t feel this good.
old money! gojo x reader + dom! gojo + petnames (angel + princess) + reader gets doted on + reader also gets spoiled with money and gifts + heavy petting + messy sex + kinda public sex + size kink + praise + overstimulation + breeding + frotting + embarrassment + slight, very slight humiliation + slight degradation + squirting + f! reader
— word count; approx 3.2k
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gojo knew the promise of his immense amount of wealth was what drew people in. knew that his name carried weight- and the look of his face itself was enough to get him out of most conflict, but it felt different with you.
he knew you were not as interested in the circle of opulence that he was born into- but that didn’t mean you didn't dislike it.
he figured it out ten months in, decided to indulge in a restaurant that had been bought out for the night and settled you right in front of him- sparkling in the dim candlelight with jewels he had dropped off right before picking you up. watching with crescent eyes as you squirmed in your seat, lips pouty and propped open to let just a sliver of warm exhale through before tucking your bottom lip into your teeth. wondering if you knew he could see the subtle shift of your thighs- tugging the satin dress across the swell of your thighs.
“you like it?” satoru wondered, sitting back in his seat while your trembling fingers reached and curled against the stem of the wine glass- knowing you tried so hard to keep an air of nonchalance against his always watching eyes.
“it’s… beautiful.” you finally giggled, letting the sweet liquid inside your mouth- making the already expensive wine look just that much more delicious against your lips.
it pleased him, knowing you were enjoying yourself, knowing how much you fought against his incessant push to throw gifts your direction left and right, a feeling of guilt twisting in your stomach that made you feel like maybe he thought you were using him. but he knew different, the slight frown on your lips when he first gave you a necklace that looked like it could pay for your rent for a couple of years was dropped off at your doorstep with no further pretense or condition to let him know this was different.
he simply thought it would look good on you- and his expenses were explained to no one but him alone as the only heir to his family wealth, it's not like it would make a dent in money that sat there unused and was older than both of you two put together. it looked better draped around your neck, or hugging the curves he could seemingly long for forever, felt better when the simmering heat in your stomach was worn on your cheeks- liked leaning down and feeling the warmth painted on the curve of your face, nearly burning against his lips.
sitting back, he let his knees fall apart- spreading his legs open, crossed his arms over his body to look at you from the glint of his lower lashes. a stance that at first glance would look like it was him getting comfortable, but the way his lips kept a small upturn at the corners- the way he really looked at you felt like there was a crushing weight pinning you down right in front of him. his chin tilting up to ask without a word being said if you felt it too, if the weight of his cock in his silk pants was reciprocated by the thrumming of want nestled between your legs. silence that had you shakily press the crystal back down against the table to bring a hand up and shield another small giggle from your lips, and it took everything in him to not reach over the table and tug your hand away. his own heart thumping heavy in his chest, a lowly mumble of ‘cute’ that sounded mean falling from his lips before keeping quiet once again.
broken only by the sound of the music changing- the slow whine of a sleepy note seeping off into a moving waltz, seemingly snapping out of his stupor for a second- wondering if he could keep his hands to himself for the entirety of the meal. giving you a wink before straightening back up, elbows placed on the table to close the distance just a little bit.
“beautiful, huh.” he repeated, wondering how to proceed with the delicate swing of want that was tipped back and forth between the two.
“how hungry are you, angel?” gojo breathed, sighing something heavy out of his lungs. letting your answer pick for the both of you, eyes caught against the delicate glimmer of diamonds reflected back with every rise and fall of your chest. luring him in even further with just the way you sat there, trying not to groan at the singular thought that he had brought them for you- that it was from his own hand that placed the delicate metal and diamonds fasted against your skin right there. wondering if you would wear his name just as pretty right there.
the question struck a chord in your stomach- tingling with the thought, with the offhand chance that he was just as desperate for you as you were him, food be damned. there were always other nights, and the events leading up to this whole show of glamor and wealth were already way too much for you to bear.
“hungry?” you wondered out loud, “not very hungry.” you shrugged, truthful and shy. knowing you were wanting something else, but finding it hard to really vocalize just what you wanted in fear of reading the signs wrong.
“but it’s not about the food, is it?” you sighed, motioning with a small circle of your hand to the environment you found yourself in- finally letting your finger rest against your newly found tennis necklace resting along your collarbone.
and gojo laughed, knowing you were going to say something in regards to this whole show. because you were right.
“no princess, it's not about the food, but i am a gentleman and thought i'd ask before i do this-” satoru nearly keens before sitting up straight, and with a wave of his hand ushered over the waiter. motioning for the man to lean into him, whispering words lost to you no matter how much you strained to hear before handing him a black card, rimmed with silver trimming. smile still plastered on his face even when he turned to look at you, before finally standing and extending a hand out towards you, bowing his head to avert his eyes to the floor like the so-called ‘gentleman’ he claimed to be.
it made it so easy to lean into the grandeur that he was cloaked in, giggling before letting a hand reach for his arm, traveling up the softness of his button up shirt (with too many of them undone to realistically be called one) before looping your other arm around his bicep, shivering with the feel of muscle taught and so big against your body; expecting him to tug you to the front door, but instead took long steps to the back, dimmed lights only illuminated sparsely by satoru’s request. walking past leather seats and heavy oak counters, his eyes glued to the doors of the bathrooms nestled away in the back even when you tipped your head up to look at him as he tugged you away.
“gojo?” you whispered, even though there was no need to.
“hm?” was all that was responded back to you, hand pushing the door open and finally grabbing you. hands shaky while they pressed against the warm curve of your body, barely letting the door shut closed before leaning down to kiss you, sighing like he was tasting the sweetest thing hed ever had- and with every pass of his tongue against your glossy lips it might as well had been.
rendered speechless, too busy trying to guess where the path of his hand was finally going to land against you, your own hands reaching up to anchor themselves into the fabric of his shirt- fisting the material like it was the only thing keeping you standing.
“satoru!” you cried, in between a kiss that didn’t feel all consuming, letting you think for just a second.
pulling away with the slight urgency to his name, finally paying attention to the way you shook against him, wondering if he took it just a little too far.
picking up your chin with a curled finger on one hand, the other prying your shaking fist from his shirt before kissing the back of it. wondering how you had gotten so sweet.
“angel.” he sighed, finally thinking straight now that the heat he had felt all night was satiated just a tiny bit, finally attentive to what you wanted.
“i dont want kisses.” you breathed, blinking back tears for the sake of the time it took to get ready, wondering if it was any use granted just what you wanted.
“no? ah, baby.” satoru sighed, leaning in to lick your cheek like it was the most normal thing- like it was something to do when trying to soothe someone, ready to apologize, to let you know that he really was a gentleman and there was no excuse for tugging you along for the sake of calming down the throbbing in his pants.
“no, i-i want more.” you finally cried, thankful for the fact that his piercing eyes weren’t staring directly into yours, finding it hard to think when they were pinning you down.
and in a second, it felt like he could finally breathe. tilting his head back to stare at the lights illuminating the bathroom, thankful that they were not generic fluorescent lights- it was much softer, painting you in a color that made you look worth more than anything he could think up.
“more? what’s more, baby. tell me- i’d give you anything.” gojo murmured, shaking with the painted restraint that didn’t come easy, too indulgent, wanting to hear what you had been pining for the whole night. with what he knew you wanted from him, finally letting yourself be indulgent with the grandiosity he could so easily give you.
but it felt too real, all of the courage you had seconds ago wasted away with the way he held you in place- thumb and pointer finger pressed on either side of your face while he leaned down into you, breathing hot and heavy into your open mouth, just waiting for the words like he was going to eat them up. draped in expensive fabric thanks to him, jewelry clasped around your neck and wrists thanks to him, propped up against the cool wall in the restaurant you could never get into by yourself thanks to him. and all you could do in return was cry and shake like a baby against his ever imposing stature. breaking into the mess he wanted you in.
“c-cant. i can’t.” you finally breathed, closing your eyes and letting the tears that had clung so desperately against your lashes fall down your cheeks, nestling against the dip of your cheek his fingers made.
and he shouldn't have felt so good about this, shouldn’t have; so ardently burned with lust at the way you gave it all to him, but he was a creature of lust and opulence- and there wasn’t anything as tempting and delicate as you.
“oh, angel- it’s okay, i’ll take care of it, it’s my fault- isn’t it?” he reassured with a lilting voice that felt like licks of stinging heat against you, letting go of your face in favor of reaching down lower- pressing against the pulse point of your neck instead, making you even dizzier than you had been already.
and he supposes the reason why he liked you like this, dizzy and dependent on him, was because it made it so easy to turn you around- letting you miss his touch for just a second before entangling his fingers against the back of your head and pushing you forward- silently apologizing for his heavy hand before swallowing it all back when your mouth popped open and you whined a sound so raring it made him blink before returning fullforce.
leaning to search for the cheek that hadn't been plastered against the cool marble to bite into the softness there, while his free hand wandered down to the crux of your legs. prying your soaked underwear to the side and sinking just the tips of his fingers against your slit, openly groaning at how hot and wet you were. his cock straining against his pants, throbbing and swelling with every shaky breath you panted, pressing it against the thinly clad curve of your ass, letting his hips rut desperately against you, fingers sinking further into your cunt when the feel of him against you like that had another wave of wetness make a mess right there while he touched you.
“youre so, fucking- wet.” he murmured, making it sound like a complaint, before leaving the grip of your head in favor of reaching down between the two of you- fisting at his cock for just seconds until the heavy press of his body against your own waned in the want and need to have you made him dizzy too. finally letting the heaviness of his swollen cock free, letting it rest against your lower back, nestled like it belonged against the swell of your ass, painting your pretty dress in a messy string of precum.
normally, he'd shown more restraint, would have strung you along until you couldn’t take it anymore and then give it all to you- but the singular thought of you finally basking in what he had to offer, in what came with his name made him already too weak.
“too fucking cute, i really have it all.” he breathed, prying his messy fingers from your cunt before grabbing the equally soaked piece of fabric hiding you away from him and pulling, tugging until the lace and cotton gave way, falling down onto the floor between your feet- not even bothering to move your dress, shifting his hips away from you in order to guide the thickness of his head into your heat. too hard to need a guiding hand, and finally letting out a strained groan when the mushroomed tip of his cock popped inside.
open mouth panting once the initial churn of his stomach went away, heavy balls constricting with the need to dump a heavy load of thick cum inside you.
a slave to this singular thought- chasing it with closed eyes, reaching for it before it left the forefront of his mind. towering body bowing down to meet you, to hiss expletives against your ear, wanting you to know what was racing through his mind the second his cock finally sheathed itself right where it belonged.
“i’ll give it all to you.” gojo whined, hiccuped in desperation while his hips twitched to give you one good thrust, pushing a mirrored sound of utter shock from your own pouty lips.
“the money, clothes, anything you want-“ he grunted, working to lessen the clutch of your tight pussy around his throbbing cock, barely able to move, to fuck you. “you won’t have to work a single day in your life, princess.” satoru murmured, words clipped short, his pet names for you spat between gritted teeth when his hips finally found a frantic rhythm, balls slapping against your clit so hard it felt like pads of fingertips tapping the swollen bud there- only further adding onto the searing pleasure.
trying so hard not to completely collapse, your hands found his forearms, wrapped tightly around your stomach to keep you there- close and unmoving while he humped away, letting you know in his own way to let go, he had you in the midst of dirty, filthy words.
“just give me a baby, yeah?” gojo finally breathed. pitching forward to nestle his nose into the space between your shoulder blades, arms keeping you so close you could hardly breathe.
the singular sentence making you dizzy, thighs squeezing together in the sudden heat wracking your body at the implication of it all- at the fact that you wanted it more than anything.
knees snapping shut, barely keeping any weight of your body against your toes, putting all your faith in his arms before seizing up. stomach clenching so hard it ran on the precipice of hurting, cunt closing down around his dick so hard he fought to keep it inside- knowing that’s where it belonged. wishing more than anything he could turn you around to see you cum, wanting to watch your pretty eyes roll and head tip back- but the sharp sound of liquid splashing down along the glistening floor was enough.
an exasperated laugh knocking the wind out of him with the realization that you just came all over the front of his expensive pants and the floor.
head tilting back to laugh out against the vacant room, wondering why you were so cute, why even in the midst of cumming you mewled and pleaded with him to cum inside- pushing past the overwhelming exhaustion from it all.
and it only takes seconds longer for satoru to oblige, wanting to do right by his part- to give you anything you wanted, finally pressing against the curve of your ass, shivering with the final constrict of his stomach before relenting.
cock swelling, spilling inside of you with a fervor that makes him loose any semblance of composure he has left, letting himself picture you tied to his side, happy and content- smiling and asking him for things he’s more than happy to oblige with, wanting you to be selfish and greedy with him, just like he is you.
“ah, messy.” he finally breathes, like it’s your fault- snickering when you whine and throw back a mean look at him, smile bitten back just a little when the final pulse of his cock hits him. trying to let the lowly groans simmering in the back of his throat lessen just a little, wishing he didn’t have to leave you, wanting to stay in the heat of your creamed cunt, dick surrounded by the mess he made there.
but the shake in your legs doesn’t let up- and he knows you’re tired, and with a small sigh, he leans down and kisses your cheek sweetly, sliding his spent cock out and furrowing his eyebrows at the wetness coating it, a pearlescent string of mixed cum falling down onto his already ruined pants- huffing with just the slightest tinge of pride.
reaching to gently shift the crumbled up seat of your dress down back where it belonged, seeing the ruined state your attire was in too- rolling his shoulders back to soothe the strain of being bent down around you just a little.
“satoru.” you whine like he wasn’t already doing everything for you, but you couldn’t help it- he’d made you like this, always wanting more.
and he comes down like the singular ring from his name from your lips pulled him itself- pressing kiss after kiss along your heated cheek, shushing whines when he lets you try and stand by yourself, wanting to make it home to properly give you everything.
smiling like he wasn’t about to pull you out of the bathroom with cum soaked thighs and expensive silk that made everything shine so elegantly despite what was wetting the material- but he only assured you it was okay. there was no one here after all, he’d paid everyone out to sit in the back and enjoy a break on him.
further stoked by the way you simmered even more at the realization that with money like his, he could do anything.
he could do anything for you.
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mariasont · 15 days
Note
I was wondering if you could write a Hotch oneshot smut. I was thinking like babysitter or even team member. And reader comes onto/flirts w Hotch and he doesn’t know how to act at first lol. Either way, I know it’ll slay (also no rush!)
p.s. Love your work dude 🫶
Negotiating with Mr. H - pt 1
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pt 1, pt 2
A/N: I LOVE YOU! thank u 4 requesting angel face <3 i promise there will be a smutty part two ;) i just got so excited writing this i wanted to put it out b4 i went to bed lolol
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!nanny!reader
warnings: suggestive flirting, suggested age gap (reader is in 20s, hotch is in 40s prob)
wc: 1.2k
As you curled up on the couch, your feet hidden under the warmth of your legs, a soft yawn escaped your lips. The room was silent save for the slow murmur of the television, which seemed to grow dimmer with each passing moment, fighting the inevitable pull of sleep that threatened to overtake your best intentions to stay awake.
Being the live-in nanny, you typically followed the soft patter of Jack's footsteps to bed, but tonight the clock ticked past and light in the living room remained defiantly on. Your gaze occasionally drifted to the empty hallway, the cushions of the couch bearing the imprint of your tension. The fabric pulled tight beneath your fingers, every creak of the front door causing your heart to skip a beat as you awaited the turn of the lock. 
You couldn't even explain what had gotten you so worked up. Maybe it was pent up frustration of living with a man that was so attractive, so powerful. Maybe it was the quiet intensity that lingered in his frown, or the way his suits seemed to be a second skin, tailored to perfection. And the beard--oh, that fleeting shadow across his jawline--gone way too soon.
You wanted him. Bad. You had an ache for something more than stolen glances and casual words. You weren't sure of how you would go about it, but you knew you needed to see him, to feel him. It was worse when each case that took him away seemed to stretch time, pulling at the seams of your patience. Every time he got back, you fought the urge to jump his bones. 
You weren't even sure how he felt about you. You knew he probably had hundreds of women, all vying for a glance, a smile, anything. And there you were, just the nanny, invisible even in plain sight. The thought of him sparing you even a second glance seemed impossible.
Your train of thought screeched to a halt at the click of the door's latch. Turning, you found Hotch's eyes, a drowsy grin gracing his features. A thrill of nerves shot through you as he quietly said your name. 
"Everything alright? You're up late," he observed, his voice a low timbre that filled the quiet room. He eased out of his jacket, movements unhurried, and placed his briefcase down by the door. He glanced at his watch. "And definitely past your bedtime."
A soft smile curled at the corners of your lips. "Did you just make a joke, Mr. Hotchner?"
The chuckle that followed was more of a breath than a sound, a sound almost foreign in the stillness of the hallway. He moved towards the kitchen. "Must be the lack of sleep," he offered, pausing to glance back at you.
The simple act of him loosening his tie held your gaze. His hand, reaching for the scotch, moved with an ease born of repetition. You may not have been a profiler, but you prided yourself on understanding the subtle tells of his body language. You knew that when he starred down the glass for a moment too long before drinking, the case had been particularly grueling, and when he set the bottle back with a contented sigh, it was the opposite.
Today he took that contented sigh.
The gentle interrogation in his eyes drew you from your daydreaming. The sudden heat that rose to your cheeks betrayed your momentary lapse in attention. "Sorry, what?"
"I asked how Jack was."
"Oh," you said with a small laugh. "He's been an angel, as always, not a single toe out of line."
His nod came with a sip of scotch. You mustered your courage and stood from the couch, the chill of the floor seeping into your bare feet as you walked towards him. "How was work?"
"It was... surprisingly manageable."
"Manageable, huh?" you teased, resting your elbows behind you on the island, meeting his gaze. "Well, I hope that means we'll be seeing more of you. It's been too quiet."
One brow arched in mild amusement. "I wouldn't count on it too much. That might just put you out of a job."
"Jobless, maybe. But it's worth the risk to see you unwind a bit more. I'll take my chances," you said, a playful challenge lacing your words as you stood a little straight, tiredness melting into a newfound alertness. "And between us, I suspect you'd be calling me back before lunchtime."
He paused, his gaze momentarily caught in the soft light that seemed to frame you. "I can't argue with that," he conceded with a soft chuckle. 
You were beautiful, undeniably so, and it wasn't just the kindness in your eyes or the gentle curve of your smile. It was the radiance you carried, a contrast to the shadows he had grown accustomed to. 
Your conversation, light and unexpectedly intimate, was a balm to the solitude that had become his norm. For a fleeting second, he allowed himself the luxury of imagining coming home to this--your lively chatter, your laughter--but he quickly quashed the thought. As much as he was drawn to you, he couldn't help but feel the gap between you--a gap carved by years and experiences that made him believe you belonged to a world far brighter than his own.
"So, I suppose this means it's time for me to negotiate a raise, or perhaps some extra perks, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Hotchner?" you suggested, edging closer with a pivot on your toes, eyes dancing over his form with undisguised interest. 
"Considering you keep this place running like clockwork, a raise doesn't sound unreasonable," he admitted, the clink of his glass punctuating the silence as he set it down, arms folding across his chest in a relaxed barricade. 
You moved within arm's reach. "Or, we could discuss a more... personal kind of bonus."
"A personal bonus?" Hotch repeated, his eyes narrowed, not in suspicion, but in dawning realization. The analytics part of his brain momentarily offline as he tried to reconcile your words with his own feelings. "I'm not sure that's...appropriate."
You took another step, almost toe-to-toe with him, your breath a tease on his skin. "Maybe not, but I think I've earned it, Mr. H. Don't you?"
"Yes, you've... certainly earned it," Hotch managed to say, clearing his throat, his eyes briefly losing focus as they drifted to your lips and back to your eyes. "You're very impressive at what you do."
With a boldness that felt natural, you reached up, toying with the knot of his tie. "I'm eager to impress in other ways too, Mr. Hotchner. Care to oversee?"
Hotch felt a sudden tightness in his chest, the air seemingly thinner, not able to focus on anything but the soft touch of your fingers against his tie. "I... yes," he said after you, the name he'd heard countless times before now igniting an unfamiliar fire within him. "Overseeing... seems necessary."
You offered him a smile, tender and guileless, your eyes shimmering in the kitchen light. "I'm glad you agree. We should definitely discuss the details. Goodnight, Mr. Hotchner."
Hotch remained motionless, his breath caught somewhere between a gasp and a sigh. The kitchen seemed somehow louder now, your words echoing in his ears, every sense attuned to your presence even as it faded. What just happened?
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rs-hawk · 3 months
Note
I'd love to see more yeti or Bigfoot dragging their mate off to their cave in the woods
They're just slightly smart enough to communicate with gestures but not enough to understand why you'd want to leave
Y’all fr making me lose my mind with this asks. Love it
You decided to go hiking with a group of coworkers. It’s supposed to be a team building experience, but you don’t care about that. You’re just glad that you’ll get paid to be outside. It’s better than being trapped inside all day, listening to people you don’t care about complain about things you also don’t care about.
You started to get a bit ahead, nor caring about the gossip and taunting that your other coworkers are exchanging. Your one work friend pulled out last minute, making you wish you’d stayed home today. That feeling wouldn’t last for too long though.
As you followed the path, you lost sight of the group behind you when you looked back. While you felt relieved by that, you also wondered if that would mean you wouldn’t get paid since technically you weren’t apart of any of the “team building” and “morale strengthening” going on behind you. You pushed that thought from your mind and decided to keep going on. They were lucky you came at all. Surely no one would be so petty as to not pay you because you got excited and got a little ahead.
When you heard a branch breaking just off the path, you didn’t think too much of it. Someone probably just was catching up to you. However, when you heard thumping on the trees, a shiver went down your spine. You remembered your Dad telling you about Big Foot and how he always made himself known by banging on trees, and that horrid smell. Luckily you didn’t smell anything, so you pressed forward.
Again, you heard the branch breaking. This time you froze, looking towards the sound of the breaking branch. Just as soon as you saw the flash of brown fur, you were scooped up by it. A scream ripped from your throat as you were carried away from the trail faster than you could comprehend.
You were taken to a cave, where the creature set you on a bed of moss and leaves. It was soft at least. The creature that loomed over you was a stereotypical Big Foot, making your heart leap into your throat. He gestured for you to lay down, but you shook your head.
He frowned, gesturing again. You shook your head. “What? No. I need to leave.”
You pointed to the opening of the cave, but this time, the creature shook his head. He lightly pushed you onto your back, burying his furry face into the crock of your neck. The feeling of his tongue, lips and teeth on your neck drew out an involuntary moan from your lips. He took that as a sign of invitation, moving his large, furry hands down your body.
You jerked away, moving slightly closer to the mouth of the cave. He drew you back to him, now pinning you under him. His huge cock was already leaking precum, which he smeared against your jeans as he grinded against you. You couldn’t believe how soaking wet this thing was making you.
He tried to pull off your jeans, but was clearly confused and agitated. After a moment, you decided that this wasn’t real. It was just a dream, right? Big Foot isn’t real. What could it hurt to have a little fun?
You slipped off your jeans, and he groaned, back to grinding his leaking cock against you. The tip of his cock pushed your panties into you, obviously not understanding the barrier at first. Just as you’re about to pull them off, instead, he ripped them off. Within a second, he slammed his giant cock inside of you. That mix of pain and pleasure made you realize that this wasn’t a dream. It was real. But you were too cock drunk to care at this point.
The furry creature abused your poor dripping cunt merciless. He bit and nipped at your neck, leaving deep bruises all over your neck and throat. His fat cock stretched you out with every thrust, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. You knew that if he was to cum in you that there was no way that you wouldn’t get pregnant. It was basically in your womb with every thrust. Again though, you couldn’t bring yourself to care too much.
Big Foot groaned and grunted, sounding animalistic and feral as he used your poor human cunt. He flipped you over, shoving your face into the moss so he could reach deeper into you. This drew tears from you as you gripped the moss. Tears ran down your face as your eyes rolled back into your head. Your cunt was wrapped around him, drawing him in deeper. You wanted to beg for him to keep going just like that because you were so close, but you couldn’t get any words out. Instead you just moaned and whined, pushing back against him.
Finally, as you felt him pulsing inside of him, so close to cumming, you clenched down around him. Your orgasm finally flowed, making you choke out a sob into the moss. Your mind was fuzzy. Your cunt was throbbing excitedly. He moaned loudly at the feeling of you clenched around him, and that was all it took for him to release inside of you.
His cum filled you up, extending your stomach, rounding it out. It gave you a precursor to what your stomach would soon look like, round with his child.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month
Text
pink unicorn
inspired by this adorable video of drew
words: 600
warnings: dad!rafe, mom!reader, very soft and fluffy
“rafe.” you sigh, rubbing your forehead with your fingertips, eyes flicking between his hunched over frame and your daughter. “she doesn't even want it anymore! she's moved on.”
you watch as rosie occupies herself with your phone, giggling every time she presses the button to turn the screen on and off, looking at the picture of herself and rafe on your lock screen.
“she said she wanted it, im going to get it.” rafe grunts, putting more coins into the claw machine. he tries for a fifth time to get the pink unicorn stuffie that your three year old became obsessed with having for an entire minute before moving on to the next sparkly thing. 
“baby, come on.” you groan. you knew when you married him that rafe was stubborn, thankfully it didn't rub off on your daughter, who is the happiest and most agreeable little girl you've ever seen.
“my princess deserves whatever she wants, including this stupid-” rafe jerks the claw machine “fucking- stuffie.”
he groans when the claw machine grips the unicorn, only for it to fall before he can navigate it back to the shoot.
“rafey, please. you've been at this for like five minutes. we can just buy her a unicorn stuffie.” you don't point out that she already owns probably twenty similar ones.
“one more try.” rafe glances at your daughter, frowning when she really is completely disinterested in the toy.
“okay. then can we keep going?” you question. you were supposed to be walking around the mall to look for a present for a birthday party rosie got invited to, of course also getting distracted by everything along the way, rafe bending to whatever store rosie wanted to go into, whether it was candy or video games, anything bright that looked exciting.
“mama.” rosie whines, your phone now sitting on the floor. 
“come here, baby.” you pick rosie up, grabbing your phone at the same time and slotting it into your pocket. some people try to tell you not to baby your toddler so much, but you love being able to carry her around and keep her close, dreading the day that she's too big for you to lift easily.
“daddy, wheres my unicorn?” she pouts as the claw drops the stuffed animal again. rafe just gives you a look as he loads more coins in.
“for real, babe, last try or we are going to the toy store and leaving you here.” you know rosie is just going to find a million things she wants inside of the toy store anyways, probably another five pink unicorns.
rafe nods, concentration overtaking his features. rosie cheers him on from your arms as he hooks the unicorn around the center, claw raising up and bringing it over to the shoot. it falls perfectly down, both rosie and rafe shouting in excitement.
rafe gets the pink unicorn out, holding it out for your daughter to hug into her little arms. “thank you daddy!”
“anything for you my little princess, come here.” rafe opens his arms as rosie practically launches herself from you to snuggle into his chest.
“i wanna introduce pinky to my other unicorns.” she babbes about having a big tea party as rafe glows just looking at her.
“of course.” rafe nods. “let's go home right now so me you and pinky can play together.” you don't point out how all of rosies pink toys share the same name.
“babe!” you call out, following rafe out of the mall towards the exit. “we still haven't gotten our gift!”
“ill order it on amazon!” he calls out as you catch up to him and his long strides. 
“come on, mommy, i wanna play.” rosie pouts, face mimicking her expression with big pleading eyes.
“fine.” you sigh, unable to say no to either of them. “but you have to clean up your tea party when it's over!”
“yesss!” rafe pumps his fist in the air, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips.
“and no real food! you’ll spoil your supper!”
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jasmines-library · 1 month
Note
hi love! idk if you are interested or not but i had an idea of reader being friends with lilly and severus but also with the marauders untill the oh so fateful day were sev ruined his friendship with lilly and reader. i love the idea of lilly ending up in james's arms and reader in sirius's (they are my boys sorry sev🤭)
thank you and again, only if you want! have a wonderful day lovely!
Only Human
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⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
Warnings: Slurs (mudblood), swearing bullying kinda, negativity but fluffy ending
Word Count: 1.7k
⛧ MARAUDERS MASTERLIST⛧
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
Severus Snape was resting against a tree when it happened. The castle sat opposite him, just a short way across the clear water. The small ripples created by the creatures in the lake and the summer breeze often distracted him from the book that he rested between his knees and his chest as he tucked them up closely. It was this exact reason that he hadn't noticed the band of robe-clad gryffindors trudging up the slope toward him. James Potter led the group, he wore his signature charismatic grin; a smirk that twinged the corner of his lip upwards and made his nose scrunch beneath his glasses, and he had his wand held loosely in his hand. He twisted the delicate tool between his fingers as you would a drumstick. Sauntering over to Severus, he chuckled at his friends, nudging them playfully with his shoulder. 
“Snape!” He jested, calling out to him. 
His head snapped up, but he kept his back planted firmly against the tree as the group of marauders ran up to him. He squeezed his eyes shut, just hoping that they would turn and leave. But they were bored and Severus, who had been particularly troublesome toward them, had caught their eyes. Severus inched himself up against the tree so that he rose to his feet and began to turn back in the direction of the castle. 
James frowned, a look of mock pity set on his face. “Leaving already, Snivellus?”
Snape reached for his wand, but kept his back to them.  “Fuck off, Potter. I don’t want trouble.”
“Don’t you know it’s rude to turn your back to someone when they’re talking to you, Snape.” Sirius asked him. 
Severus whipped around quickly, his wand poised to cast a spell at them but James beat him to it; with one flick of his hand Snape's wand went flying across the river bank. He paled, the four Marauders stepping closer to him. 
“Nice one, James.” Sirius cheered. 
The dark haired boy backed up slowly, setting his gaze. The four of them were edging closer, threatening him with their wands when you spotted them. You had just finished class and were heading over to the lake with Lily, arm in arm. The two of you were over there in seconds when you saw your friends threatening each other. Much to your boyfriend's dismay, you and Severus had been friends from the beginning of the first year. You met him on the train; a shy boy with long hair who didn’t quite seem certain of the world. Lily bonded with him quickly, and you followed soon after. It wasn’t long after that that you met Sirius Black. Charming, brave, daring; he was the complete opposite to Snape, but you supposed that was what drew you to him so much. It was their clash in personalities that made the two clash. It seemed as though they were always doing something to wind up the other.
This time it had gone too far. You were unsure of what Sev had done to wind up the Marauders so much, but you and Lily were skidding to a stop beside them in a heartbeat. 
James caught a glimpse of Lily’s fiery hair out of the corner of his eye. “Lilyflower-”
“Leave him alone, James.” It wasn’t quite a demand, Lily never had that sort of aggressiveness in her, but her voice was firm. She didn’t want her friend to get hurt. 
“Ah, Evans, Don’t make me hex you.” James sighed, a playful twinge on his tongue.
“I’m serious.” Lily repeated when James refused to lower his wand, letting it loll around between his fingers. 
“No,” Sirius smirked. “I am.”
You gave him a hard stare through narrow eyes, and his smirk dropped. “Siri. Please.”
The boy nodded, nudging his friend who promptly pocketed his wand. Severus seemed taken back, his steps faltering. He glanced gratefully in your direction, though his anger and embarrassment were unmistakable in his eyes. 
“You’re lucky that they were here to help you, Snape.”
“I don’t need help from filthy mudbloods.”
You had expected many things from Severus, but those words were not one of them. He spat them with venom; malice intending to bite deep. And bite deep it did. 
You froze, eyes glassing over with tears. Serverus Snape had made an incredibly low blow; as a muggleborn, it was safe to say that it took some time to come to terms with your letter to Hogwarts. You were excited, of course but your parents were far from keen. Lily experienced the same thing with her sister too. Things didn’t get much better when you arrived at Hogwarts either. Some saw you as ‘impure’. Unworthy. Sev knew this and he had chosen to use it against you. Perhaps it was in a moment of spite, perhaps he hadn’t meant to say it at all. But all that mattered in that moment was that Severus Snape was just like the rest of them.   
You could see Sirius glance your way out of the corner of your eye, but when he took a step toward you you backed away. 
“Fuck you, Snape.” You spat back at him, trying to hide the waver in your voice. 
“You should watch your mouth, Snivellus.” Lily glared at him before turning on her heel and making her way promptly back to the castle before anyone else could say a word. 
You were left standing between the two groups, both slightly shell shocked, in silence.
Sirius, now full of guilt, opened his mouth to talk, but you pursued Lily before he could even form the first syllable.
 The tears came flooding in quickly after that. 
~
Sirius hadn’t seen you for the rest of the day. and that was partly because you refused to come out of the girls bathroom. He had even tried to get Moaning Myrtle to coax you out to talk to him, but still you refused to show your face as you curled up on the bathroom tile. It made his stomach churn. 
His pit of guilt dug itself deeper as he sat in class. Sirius’ leg bounced restlessly during potions and there was just as much ink on the page at the start of the lesson as there was at the end. The detention he was also given didn’t help ease his thoughts. His mind wandered to the worse case scenarios. It was his fault for provoking Snape… What if you never wanted to talk to him again? He was up in an instant when the fateful day came to an end and he could return to the common room. He dragged his feet up to the portrait and muttered the words to open it. Every part of him itched to see your face mingling amongst the crowd. 
At first, he didn’t see you. But he managed to make out the crown of your head resting against an armchair tucked away in the corner by the fire. His face softened when he saw the tear tracks staining your face where you had failed to wipe them away properly.  
You had spent practically the last two hours crying. Everytime the flood stopped, it seemed to start up again. Severus was supposed to be your friend and he had discarded you just like that. The back of your eyes stung, glassy beads threatening to spill again. When you finally braved it enough to make it back to the common room, you couldn’t bear to go up to your room. You hardly spent any time there anyway because you spent much of it lounging around in Sirius’ bed with the other marauders…and you were angry and Sirius. 
No… perhaps angry was too strong a word. Hurt. Hurt by his actions and his and James’ thoughtlessness. Being up in your room would have just reminded you of that. So instead you settled down with a book by the fire trying to distract yourself and let the world move around you. 
It didn’t take Sirius very long to reach you. He crossed the common room in a few wide strides. 
“Love?” Siri asked hesitantly. 
You peeked up at him meekly. Your eyes were red raw and puffy, it made the boy frown. Sniffing, you wiped your eyes with the hem of your sleeve. “Oh.. hi Siri.” you mumbled, not quite meeting his eyes. 
“Oh Lovey. I’m so sorry.” He melted, sliding onto the arm of the chair beside you. 
“ ‘ts okay. It’s not your fault…”
Sirius scowled. You were far too kind for your own good. He knew exactly what you had been through and made him sick just thinking that you weren’t allowing anyone to take the blame for it. “But it is, Dove. I shouldn’t have provoked him. If I had stopped James and just kept my mouth shut then you wouldn’t have had to come over in the first place.”
A tear spilled from your eyes and all of a sudden you broke all over again. “He was supposed to be my friend, Pads.” You blubbered, voice wavering. “He’s just like the rest of them…”
Sirius took your hands in his, pressing a kiss to them. “You didn’t deserve any of this, my love. I am so, so sorry.”
“Maybe they’re right….” You trailed off. “Maybe I am worthless. If Sev thinks so too then-”
“Shh.” Sirius pressed another kiss to your temple as he scooped you up into his arms. Burying your face into his chest you continued to cry. He trailed his fingers over your back. “You’ve never been more wrong in your life, Lovey. You are worth so much more than that. You’re kind, brave and not to mention the most beautiful girl in the world. You’re worth everything to me. Who gives a crap what they think?”
You sniffled, unsure. 
“I mean it.”
You looked up at him, wiping away your tears; a ghost of a smile on your lips. 
“I love you.” Siri whispered, kissing you softly.
“I love you too.” You settled your head against his chest, shifting to curl against him. 
It was there that James and Lily found you later, entwined with each other and sleeping peacefully. Safe within each other's arms.
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
MARAUDERS TAGS:
@hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
425 notes · View notes
standfucker · 3 months
Note
Hello!! I've been thinking about an AFAB reader in the straw hat crew who dresses as a man. Short hair and masculine clothes that cover her up. She doesn't want people treating her differently or going easy on her in fights because of her gender hence her constant charade. Because of this the crew doesn't know that she is actually woman. I'd like to request drabbles of how Zoro, Sanji, And Luffy would react when finding out and where they would. Also, SFW please!
This was fun! ^^ Thanks for submitting a request! I tried to keep these a consistent length and failed. Each one ended up longer than the last... I'll have to keep trying harder to pace myself.
Discovering Your Secret - Monster Trio
CW: chest binding, canon-typical violence, injury (not described in detail), gun violence, battle trauma, nudity, awkwardness
Luffy
Group bathing was one bonding activity on the Sunny that you had to miss out on. Shyness wasn’t like you, but the guys chalked it up to a weird personality quirk and long since stopped questioning it. Some people liked their privacy, no big deal. Really, it was never a problem until Luffy barged into the bathroom one day while you were soaking, the door swinging open so hard it bounced back shut behind him.
You tried to shout that the bathroom was occupied, but it was drowned out by Luffy’s own yell of “GUM GUM CANNONBALL!” The next thing you knew, Luffy had somehow launched himself out of his clothes and into the tub, making a massive splash that took out half the water. It was only by sheer luck that he didn’t collide with you. 
Instantly you sank down low into the remaining water so only your head was above the surface. The clear water offered no protection, however, so you had to cover your chest and cross your legs. Embarrassment and panicky fear were rotten feelings to have when you had just gotten relaxed, and you found yourself getting angry on top of it all. This was such a stupid way to be found out, and it was only because your captain lacked any self-awareness.
Luffy came up with a laugh, then opened his eyes and blinked at you for a second. “Oh, hey!” he said, oblivious to your stress. “I didn’t know you were in here! Robin told me she just drew a bath, so I came in. Didn’t hear the rest of what she said–I guess she drew it for you! Shi shi shi.”
You stared at him, open-mouthed, too stunned to speak right away.
Luffy’s brows raised when you didn’t respond. “Oh, that’s right, you don’t like to bathe with others. Sorry!” ���Luffy?” you tried, but he kept talking.
”Well, I’m here now, so we might as well share! We can wash each other’s backs.”
”Luffy.”
”What are you so shy for, anyway? You look fine to me.”
”Luffy!” you snapped.
”What?”
”Get out!”
”But I’m already wet!” he complained, and you mentally screamed at his stubbornness.
”Then I’ll get out! But you have to look away!” you barely managed to keep from yelling at him, trying not to lose your cool lest he get suspicious.
Luffy pursed his lips. “Fine, sheesh. I won’t look.”
He turned his head away. You hesitated, then quickly stood up and made to leave. You took one step onto the tub–and immediately slipped, thanks to the water Luffy splashed there a moment ago. A yelp left you as you fell fast.
”Y/N!” Right before you hit the tub, Luffy’s arms shot out and wrapped around you, pulling you safely back inside. “That was close!”
You froze in place, heart in your throat both from the fall and from your new position. Luffy’s arms were wrapped around your torso. He could clearly feel your chest against his rubbery arms. You gaped at him, wide-eyed in shock. Luffy smiled. Then he squeezed you again and frowned. Slowly, he looked down at your chest, then down even further.
”WHAT?!” Luffy yelled in shock, his eyes bugging out. “Y/N got attacked by Iva?! But when did you meet him?!”
You facepalmed hard.You’d heard about Ivankov through Luffy’s stories, so you had an idea of what he was talking about. But he missed the mark so hard it was astonishing.
Luffy quickly unwound his arms from around you and covered his face, stammering. “I’m sorry, Y/N! I had no idea!”  
Even though your own face was hot, you couldn’t help but start to laugh, though it was a bit nervous. As you carefully exited the tub, toweling off and pulling on a robe, you contemplated letting Luffy go on believing you were attacked by Iva. But then you would have to make up a story about meeting him, and lying to your bright-eyed captain seemed wrong. He meant well, after all.
Maybe this whole charade was unfair to him. Luffy couldn’t hold onto a secret to save his life anyway, so once he knew, the whole crew would know too. Still…though it would be a big change for you, it would be one less thing to worry about…
You draped your towel along the edge of the tub and perched on it, crossing your arms. “What did we learn about respecting people’s privacy?”
”I’m sorry,” Luffy said, peeking through his fingers before lowering his hands. “I didn’t know you had a reason…I won’t do it again! But when did you cross paths with Iva? During the two years I was away?”
”No, Luffy. I’ve never met Ivankov.” You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I’ve been a girl this whole time. I was just pretending to be male.”
”Whaaat!? Really?” Luffy’s eyes bugged out at you again. “But why?”
You did your best to explain your reasons. Luffy only seemed to grow more confused as you went on, crossing his arms and tilting his head.
”I don’t get it. Nami and Robin are strong,” he said.
“Never said they weren’t,” you replied patiently. “But Nami and Robin get underestimated constantly. Maybe they’re used to it, but I can’t stomach the idea. It’s insulting.”
“Hmm…” Luffy thought for a second. “Does this mean we can’t wrestle anymore?”
“Of course we can! The whole point is that I don’t want you to treat me differently!”
“Oh… Oh! I see!” Luffy said, his eyes lighting up with realization. “Okay then! I’ll whoop your butt like normal!”
A warm feeling filled your chest, and you smiled. Now he was catching on, and he didn’t seem to mind. The relief was almost dizzying.
You asked Luffy to try to keep it a secret for now.
He lasted about three weeks, until he asked you one day, point-blank in front of the others: “Hey, Y/N? Where do your boobs go when you get dressed?”
Zoro
“Behind you!”
Zoro’s shout made you whirl around, raising your weapon, but your opponent was already on the downswing. Their sword cut your chest open from clavicle to rib. Pain sizzled out from the gash, hot and burning, but in addition to that, you could feel that your binder was damaged, freeing your breasts. You grit your teeth through the pain and managed to strike your foe down. Then you hunched over yourself, arms crossed over your chest, quivering. The warm blood on your arms told you this one might be serious, but despite the wound, all that was on your mind was getting found out.
Zoro rushed to your side, mowing down foes as he went until he was there. “Did they get you? Let me see.” But you shook your head. “Let me see!” he insisted, an edge of panic to his voice as blood dripped onto the ground below you.
You looked up at him with visible fear, which he misunderstood. “You’re going to be okay, but you have got to let me see.”
Shaking, you lowered your arms, revealing your wound and your secret all at once.
Zoro’s eyes widened, momentarily speechless. Then he snapped out of it, hurriedly taking off his shirt and wrapping it around your torso. He picked you up, one arm supporting your bottom while the other tucked you against his chest to hide your front. You pressed your face into his shoulder, discomposed from the shock of the injury and from the sudden reveal.
What would he think of you now? All the times you arm wrestled, all the times you sparred, all the drinking contests and shared conversations and shared fights–would you never experience them again? You kept asking yourself those questions as Zoro took you out of the slowing battle.
Chopper was shocked, but promised to keep your secret. However, after he found out that you’d been binding your chest with bandages almost 24-7, he scolded you harshly, going on about how you could permanently damage your body.
At your request, Zoro’s the only one Chopper let visit you in the ship’s infirmary. For a while, Zoro didn’t say anything, just stared at your bandaged chest with an unreadable expression.
“I wanted you to respect me,” you said, breaking the silence. He didn’t respond. “I could never be your equal otherwise. Please understand.”
Zoro looked down at you and gave a heavy sigh, eyes distant for a moment. “...You remind me of someone I used to know.” He sat on the edge of your bed, some softness to his gaze now. “I get it. I get why you hid this. But you’re an idiot.”
”I know. I let myself get hurt.”
”No, dummy. Because you treated the crew like we wouldn’t understand. You didn’t trust us. It makes sense in the beginning, but after all these years?” He frowned at you, and you realize that deep down, he was hurt.
”I didn’t want anything to change between us.” You looked away, ashamed. “Between you and me.”
”It doesn’t have to.”
”You don’t like to fight women.”
Zoro grimaced at the accusation, knowing you’re right. The infirmary was quiet for a minute.
”I’m sorry,” Zoro finally said. “I’ll…I’ll do better. Nothing has to change.” He paused, and offered up a smirk. “After all, I go easy on you anyways.”
You feel yourself tear up at his acceptance, and grinned back at him. “Once I heal up, I’ll make you regret that.” You paused, face falling. “You won’t tell anyone, right? I don’t want Sanji to…you know.”
“Yeah.” Zoro made a face at the cook’s name. ”It’ll stay between the three of us,” he promised. “I still think you should tell them, but it’s not my secret to share.”
”Maybe in time. I’ll have to think about it,” you said, and he nodded.
Zoro held out his hand. You clasped it in a big swing, grimacing when it made your wound sting, and squeezed as tightly as you could.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” Zoro said, squeezing back. “Okay? We’re still buds.”
”Okay.” Again, you felt the tears threatening to spill.
”But if you cry, I’ll make fun of you.”
”Shut up!”
Once Zoro realizes you were hindered by the binder for all of your matches against him, he got fired up. All the times he won, you had a handicap–it wasn’t a fair match, he decided. However, there wasn’t really a place on the ship where you could take it off in front of others, so he was forced to remain undecided on the topic of which one of you is stronger.
It wasn’t until you revealed your secret to the others that you and Zoro finally got to have a proper, no-holds-barred sparring session. True to his word, he didn’t hold back, too battle-hungry to care if he touched your chest when you wrestled or exchanged blows. (Sanji snarled in the background, but neither of you were paying him any attention.)
As it turned out, when you let your aching ribs heal and could breathe properly, you were far better than you were before. You ended up almost defeating the swordsman, and he was so proud of you that he threw an arm around your shoulders and noogied your head until you were certain he left track marks in your skull. “That’s my girl!”
Sanji
The impact of your sword against your opponent’s knocked the weapons out of the both of your hands. Undeterred, you dashed forward to take them on barehanded, confident in your unarmed strength. Right as you reached them, they drew a hidden flintlock from their back belt, and touched the muzzle to your forehead.
You froze. The battlefield seemed to fade away, nothing solid or corporeal except for the gun to your head. You couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing in your ears, feel anything but the cold steel pressed to your skull. Everything rushed through your head in one synaptic burst, a thousand million thoughts of how soon, how final this was. All the years of adventure, ending here. One slip-up. You were going to die.
You couldn’t even feel regret. Just the sensation of your heart beating as if it was in every blood vessel. You didn’t hear the call of your name, nor the shouted “Diable Jambe!”
In the time it took for your opponent to squeeze his trigger finger, Sanji appeared seemingly out of nowhere and kicked the guy’s hand so hard you saw it break. The gun fired into the ground a few feet away from you, and with another burning kick, Sanji knocked him out.
You were in shock, standing there unharmed, but useless. Sanji took notice, calling for you again. When you didn’t respond, he rushed to you and grabbed your shoulders, shaking you hard. “Get it together! We still need you!”
Suddenly the sound, the sensation, everything came rushing back, hitting you all at once. You blinked, glanced at the surrounding battle, then at Sanji’s tense expression.
“Y/N!”
“I’m okay!” you said. “T-Thanks. I’m okay.” With that, you rushed for your fallen sword, ready to rejoin the battle.
It wasn’t your first brush with death, but this one rattled you worse than the others. After the battle you dwelled on it constantly, thinking back to that moment and breaking out into a cold sweat even though you’d just cleaned up. You couldn’t think about anything else, focus on anything going on around you. You skipped dinner, stomach too upset to eat, and were barely able to sleep despite your exhaustion from the day’s battle. You skipped breakfast the following day, and only around lunchtime did your mind seem to catch up to your body. You watched Luffy and the crew mess around, playing and laughing and arguing, and suddenly you realized that you almost lost this forever. Immediately, the urge to cry overtook you with tremendous force. You hurried through the ship’s interior, shoved yourself into a corner, and sobbed into your hands.
Dead. Oh god, you were almost dead. How was it that easy? All the strength you had worked so hard to build, meaningless. How could you have been so overconfident? How could you have let yourself lose so easily? Had Sanji not been there, you would have been gone. Gone.
The tears ran hot down your cheeks, and you bit your tongue to keep from being loud. It could have gone so much worse. Sanji was dependable, but tended to keep his eye on the girls during fights. He only saved you because you were close by. It was sheer luck that he saved you. Only luck.
“Y/N!”
Sanji’s call of your name made you go quiet. You resisted the urge to sniffle, even as your nose ran. If he found you…it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but you’d rather not be caught crying. You spent years building the image of the stoic, masculine fighter, and would prefer to keep up that appearance. Sanji called you again, closer this time, and you cleared your throat.
“Yeah?” you called out.
“Lunch is ready, so hurry on down,” he announced from the doorway, just out of your vision.
It took you a minute to gather yourself, but after washing your face and regulating your breathing, you were ready to rejoin the group once more.
In the weeks following, you dealt with your shock and processed it the best that you could. Eventually you started sleeping better again, your appetite returned, and life seemed to go on as normal…except for one thing: Sanji. He started acting strangely when he was nearby.
It started off small. He was far more pleasant around you than he normally was. Not that you and Sanji held animosity toward each other, but usually he treated you like another male: friendly enough if you weren’t Zoro, but not to this degree. He never really brightened up at the sight of you before. Nor did he ask for your opinion in his upcoming meal plan for the week. At first you chalked it up to him noticing your earlier distress somehow, but after you got better, he kept on acting saccharine.
One day, he brought you a drink. Not served you at the table with everyone else, but went out of his way to bring it to where you were sunbathing on the deck. You could only stare at him until he awkwardly left it by your side, stammered something about the heat, and then left.
Incidents like that kept happening, usually out of sight of the other crewmates, but not always. The others started picking up on it too. At one point, Sanji brought Robin, Nami, and Chopper slices of cake–and then brought you a plate as well. That time, everyone’s eyes were on him, but Sanji pretended like nothing was off.
When he chirped “Hi, Y/N-chan,” to you as he passed by you in the hall, you had enough. You grabbed him and shoved him against the wall, hard. He immediately knew he messed up, but despite your fingers fisted in his collar and your murderous expression, he only flushed red.
“What are you doing?” you hissed.
“I–I’m–” Sanji stammered. Blood started to run from one of his nostrils.
“Why are you acting like this?” you demanded. “Being all sappy and disgusting to me. Who do you think I am?”
“I–I’m sorry,” Sanji tried. You grit your teeth, beginning to fear the worst.
“Did you lose all respect for me when you saved my life?” you asked bluntly.
“Of course not! I think highly of you.”
“Too much so, don’t you think?” you had to struggle not to shout. “Is this because you heard me crying last month?”
Sanji shut his mouth, glancing aside and giving away the answer. He nodded.
“Am I weak to you or something?”
“No, that’s not it–” he tried, but you pulled him away from the wall and slammed him back into it.
“I don’t understand! You’re too soft with me. Why are you treating me so nicely?”
“Because you’re a woman, and women deserve the best.” He said it unflinchingly and with conviction, looking right back into your eyes.
The answer was obvious, but a part of you still hoped it was something else, hoped that because he didn’t go overboard with his affections that he didn’t know. Your grip on his collar weakened and gave away along with your hopes, hands hanging limply at your sides.
“When did you find out?” you asked quietly. “Or should I say, how?”
“I saw you crying.” Sanji pulled out a handkerchief, wiping his nose.
“So?”
“You may look and act like a man…but a woman’s tears leave no room for doubts.”
You stared at him in disbelief. Unfair. That’s what this was. Just unfair. Because after all those years living as a male, you got found out because of Sanji’s freakish sixth sense for women. Your sigh was heavy, and you had to rest your head in your hand for a moment.
“Okay, well, we need to set some things straight. You can’t keep slipping up around me, or the others will find out. They already suspect something’s up.”
“I'm trying!” Sanji retorted. “I knew you were hiding it for some reason, so I tried to keep myself in check! Do you know how hard it’s been?”
“How hard it’s been?” You wanted to punch him. “You have no idea what I go through every day just to keep up appearances! Just to earn the regard I deserve! Why couldn't you respect me as a man?”
“I don't respect men.”
“Ugh!” You punched the wall by his head instead. Sanji didn’t flinch. “You have to take me seriously.”
“I am!”
“We can’t keep going like this.” You bit your lip in frustration, trying to think of a solution. Maybe you could use his weird complex around women to your advantage, if he would just stop giving it away. “Okay, listen. Sanji. If you really want to do me a favor, the best thing you can do is help me keep my secret. That means whenever you have the urge to treat me like a girl, you nip it in the bud. Can you do that?”
“I…I’ll try.” Sanji went to take your hand, but you yanked it away.
“This is exactly what I’m talking about! You can’t be so familiar.”
“I’m sorry. It’s hard! I–I want to treat you right. I want to be close to you.”
“I want to be close to you to,” you admitted, surprising yourself. “But I. I’d… I’d rather hold onto my secret.”
He looked hurt, which sent a cold pang of guilt into your stomach. Reaching out, you patted his shoulder. “I’m depending on you, do you understand?”
Sanji took in your expression–serious, worried, uncertain–and nodded. The hand that reached for yours instead went over his heart. “I promise,” he said, “I will do everything I can to help keep your secret.”
The talk with Sanji helped massively, fixing his odd behavior around you for the most part. There was one thing he couldn’t give up, and that was giving you a nickname. He called you something in French–“mon petit chou,” he would say–but as it was foreign, you figured it was safe to use around the crew, and let it slide.
It was only a few months later that you learned Robin was fluent in French.
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rafesaddiction · 5 months
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It's really not cheating when he's your enemy and gives you his sweater – Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader (Part 2.5)
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See here for part 1 and part 2
Summary: You're at a kegger by the beach. Rafe is there too. You want to avoid him – as if that ever worked.
Concept: enemies, “I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater“
Warnings: mdni! – this has no actual smut, but mentions of sex, some sexual tension, but it's basically fluff, (sorta) cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), nice!rafe, but also mean!rafe, he's quite insufferable, but in a hot way.
Word count: 1.2k
a/n: Just something short and very light I wanted to get out today, for obvious reasons. I still need to write that real part 3, but I'm tagging those who asked for it here. I hope you're not disappointed. The real part 3 will come, eventually. @dope-trope-105 @fabienne6656 @missd3vil @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @ghostlycrystobalove @alyisdead @luvagirlsworld @carlasiilz @noodle81937 @baby19sthings @daydreamerblues @rafesthroatbaby @marauderssmut @samosas0900 @niyahwhoreworld @neyetams @lassie-bird @bea-drew-starkey @dream-pink @daivny @eventualoptimism (some of you I'm not able to tag, sorry)
Great. He was here too. Rafe Cameron was standing over by the bonfire with his entourage, red cup in his hand. Looking at you. And you glared back at him. He lifted the cup to his mouth, so you couldn't see whether he was grinning. But you were sure he was grinning. That smug bastard.
You grumbled, turned on your heels and walked off in another direction, away from the fire, away from him.
You felt goosebumps crawling down your neck, down your spine. He was probably watching you. You did not turn around. You shivered and you crossed your arms in front of your chest, rubbing your naked arms with your hands. It was kinda chilly and you were only wearing a light top. You had meant to stand by the bonfire to warm up, but that was out of the question now.
Because of him.
This night was supposed to be fun. Hanging out with your friends at the party. You needed a fun night, you deserved a fun night after such a shitty week. You'd been working double shifts and your boss was a creep. On top of that, things with your boyfriend weren't exactly fine at the moment. You had wanted to spend some time with him tonight. His best friend suggested going to the kegger. And here you were. Only your boyfriend and his best friend hadn't shown up. They were probably getting into trouble somewhere. As usual. You could still have fun. You didn't need them and you could just ignore Rafe Cameron. He would stay with the kooks while you could go to your friends. You'd seen some familiar faces. Yeah, you would enjoy yourself. But first, you needed something to drink.
You walked over to the keg and waited for the people in front of you to fill their cups. They took ages, because one of the guys was obviously trying to impress some girl with whatever stupid trick he meant to do. You rolled your eyes and were about to say something when you suddenly felt something touching your shoulders.
You froze. But you didn't really flinch when something soft touched your bare skin. With that touch came a scent. A dark scent. Something warm and familiar, you involuntarily closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, letting that scent fill your lungs.
You opened your eyes, tried to shake off that strange sensation and the hands – the strong hands – that were holding your shoulders.
You turned around and looked up at him. Rafe stood so close, you had to lift your chin up, otherwise you'd be just staring at his broad chest.
“What the hell?” You finally managed to speak. It wasn't much but your tone sure conveyed your anger.
He was unimpressed and a very fine smirk appeared on his lips.
“You looked like you were cold. You were shivering.”
“What?” You frowned and Rafe pointed at the jacket he had wrapped around your shoulders. His North Face jacket that felt warm and soft and smelled so strongly of him.
You felt heat rushing to your face.
He leaned closer, his eyelids half-closed as he looked at your chest, which rose and fell with your heavy breaths. Breathing was suddenly so hard, as if you were exhausted. You felt dizzy like something was numbing your senses, making your reflexes slow.
His hand touched your wrist, untangled your arms and helped you into the sleeves. And you just stood there, gazing at him. You were surely in some state of shock caused by his proximity – his scent, his touch.
He tugged the jacket close in front of you. You gasped as you felt that pull forward. Just in time you braced yourself with your hands against his chest. Your palms pressing against his shirt, you could feel his hard muscles beneath. Feel his body's heat.
You looked up from your hands and noticed his eyes move along your neck.
Your breathing hitched as you felt the lightest touch of his thumb brushing your collarbone.
A shiver made you tremble.
“See? You're freezing,” he said, in a low voice, leaning closer, so his face was next to yours, his lips grazing your ear.
“You know, it's only polite to say 'thank you' when someone gives you something…”
You frowned and pushed against his chest.
He didn't move.
But that low chuckle so close to your ear vibrated through your whole body. Made your knees weak, made your lips part, but made you unable to speak.
“You don't have to say it now.”
His fingertips touched the collar of the jacket, so close to your neck. You felt that tingling on your skin, even though he wasn't touching it.
“You can thank me later,” he continued in his low voice. “When you're wearing my jacket while you're riding my cock. Bouncing up and down. Screaming my name.”
The arrogance in his voice fueled your anger. And this time, when you pushed at his chest, you pushed so hard that he actually stumbled backwards.
Rafe stepped back, laughing in amusement while you glared at him furiously.
“Get the fuck away from me! Asshole!” Your hands balled into fists, your body tensing up. You were ready to fight him – that was what you told yourself, when you felt this intense sensation, this rush, this heat – this goddamn throbbing between your legs.
And he just winked and walked away. He actually walked away. And left you standing there. Wearing his jacket. Your hands clenched into fists, covered by the too long sleeves of his North Face jacket. Your heart was beating so fiercely. And your lips remained parted as you just stood there – when you suddenly became very aware of the fact that you weren't alone, that there were people around you who had witnessed whatever just happened.
But like seriously what the fuck had just happened?
Your hand was shaking, but not from the cold, when you took a cup to fill it with some beer. You were suddenly so damn thirsty.
“Ohmygod. Did Rafe Cameron just give her his sweater?”
You frowned as you turned to the group of girls standing close to you.
“I don't understand,” said another girl. They were kooks you could tell not just from the expensive clothes but also from the bitchy expressions they were wearing.
“Don’t you know what that means? He gave her his sweater and today's the third of December!”
You frowned. Then you remembered that stupid tiktok trend.
“It doesn't mean that!” They were taken aback when you spoke to them. You felt the need to clarify this – though you weren't even sure what it meant.
They kept on whispering and shooting you dismissive glances as they walked away.
“It's not even a sweater! It’s a jacket!”
A very cozy and warm jacket that smelled like him.
“Goddammit.”
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nouearth · 4 months
Text
once upon an eggnog.
clark kent x male reader.
summary: there's nothing better than physical touch to sober reader up after a christmas party.
wc: 1.1k. warnings: fluff, holiday!season, drunk!reader, maws!clark, worried!clark, co-worker!au, reader doesn't know clark is superman, non-descriptive mention of reader throwing up, clark has very warm hands and is a simp because he wants to make reader happy.
a/n: aaaaa, hiya! it's been a long time since i've written anything, but i'm finally on break and i thought a nice fluffy fic would help me warm up to writing again! i was going to do one of my requests, but they were all smut LOL, and i know i cannot do smut after such a long break. i need to warm up, so apologies if this is rusty! happy holidays and i'll be writing more!!
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The groan you let out was feeble. Your shadow trailed behind your sluggish steps as you foraged through neighboring street lights, gravel and pavement, for a stake of its emanating warmth.
“Hey—“ A voice called out from behind you, the blanket of snowflakes and cold dulling the panic in the man’s voice. You rested your body against the lamppost, finding the warmth to be exemplary over your frosted cheeks, but unbearable for your insides.
You let out a deep sigh. The longer you stood under the light, sweat droplets began to frame your face, followed by an overwhelming urge to cleanse your body from the inside out.
“I don’t feel…” You slurred in your speech, holding your stomach as you craned over until you slid onto your bottom, head exposed to the light as you faced the comforting snow.
“Wait up!” He called out to you several more times in midst of his trudge, his panting audibly close. 
You began grumbling incoherent sounds in response as you clumsily whipped off your coat. Your mind was frosted like the windows on the cars lined down the street as you drew in the cold air with a greed to pacify the strange feeling in your stomach. 
“(M/N), keep that on!”
“What are you…?! My mom—“ The constant shifting and turning of your body, all in an attempt to strip yourself of the restrictive wool of your vest and reindeer sweater, churned the bottom of your stomach until it was mush. 
Absolute.
Mush. 
It was funny how the human body worked because even in your drunken state, your natural instinct to find the nearest public trash can surfed through the flood of eggnog and booze, and you immediately emptied the toxins out of your body with several strong hurls. 
“Geez, I told you not to run off…” A messenger bag and a familiar coat dropped near your foot, and the man did not spare a single second to come to your aid. “And also not to drink that much...” He rubbed your back in slow and soothing circles, then in vertical swipes as you coughed out the remaining poison. The strong bass pulsating into his palm as a special way of saying ‘thank you.’
“Clark, it was just a sip—“
“You had six cups….” Clark confessed and your immediate frown was telling in whether you were an innocent bystander, or the reason why the office was running low on drinks. Rummaging through his pockets, he then offered a handful of crumbled napkins that he took from the party.
“The last two didn’t count.” You slurred again, slowly regaining your strength as you stabilized yourself over the rim of the garbage can before wiping your mouth with the napkin. “I needed a drink with my food—“
“You barely touched your plate—“ He cut himself off as soon as he caught you staring at him, the eggnog stupefying you into a dazed state in which crickets and holiday festivities replaced coherent thoughts. 
“We gotta get you home. It’s freezing.” He said, and you swayed in place as if you were a palm tree basking in the summer breeze. Or maybe like a giant marshmallow floating yet sinking in the warmth of hot cocoa.
Clark tried his best to fight the smile that was creeping upon him as he tidied your outerwear for the fourth time tonight, shielding you from the dusting of cold when he layered you with your coat.
His jaw clenched while he chewed back an adoration for your nearly frost-bitten visage, stalling the fixing of your reindeer headband to be closer to you a little while longer.
Though he couldn’t tell whether the deep flush of your skin was caused by the weather or the booze, it didn’t matter in the end because the winter of your skin magnetized a bravery in Clark that stilled you in place. Warmth sprouted over your cheeks like an approaching spring, and you closed your eyes peacefully.
Clark had put his bare hands over your cheeks, cupping them like a delicate bowl of snowflakes until they melted into his skin, until all he could feel was you and your equally delicate skin.
“Better?” Hesitantly, his thumbs followed the trail of your dark circles. It was something you’d always complain about yet ironically, your evident lack of sleep ranked high on his ‘favorite things about you’ list.
“Mhm. If only your hands were a little warmer.” You sighed again, the snowing melting into your hair and skin battling Clark’s warmth.
“Hm…” Clark held your cheeks closer, deepening his palms into you, and he closed his eyes, silently channeling his energy into his affectionate hold over you.
Maybe it was the booze playing tricks on you, or perhaps it was your body shutting down for the night, but you physically felt his hands heat up, warmer than his previous offer. Nonetheless, you gave him a nod of approval, and despite drowsiness approaching, your eyes opened bright to thank him with a smile.
“I’m guessing that’s why you don’t wear gloves?”
“Uh…” Clark laughed, an anxiousness you could point out, but you couldn’t exactly trust your judgement in your current state. “I guess you could say that’s why.”
“Well,” You said before a yawn slurred your speech even more, feeling the muscles in your body losing its strength by the second. “Remind me when you’re nearby so I can use you as a…”
“As a..?” There was a slight push to his palms, a strange sudden heaviness before Clark realized you were gradually leaning forward. “(M/N)—“ 
Gravity pulled your eyelids down, then your body forward, a striking contrast to the graceful dance of snow that dusted the ground. “As…”
And you completely slumped into Clark’s arms. Thankfully, his reflexes were quick to catch you before you could even feel the slightest breeze.
“Let’s get you home…” He smile mirrored the gentle frame of your body as you sunk into him. 
And he held you close, accompanying your deep slumber with a warmth that surrounded and protected your body like a string of Christmas lights weaved through pine needles and tree branches.
A warmth that campaigned against the icier gale, the ego of a higher altitude, during Clark’s flight to take you back home.
And a warmth that was victorious when Clark tucked you into bed, a measly makeshift of comfort and peace you thought during your stir of sleep.
Because Clark’s warmth was a newfound establishment from this night onwards.
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nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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stevesjockstrap · 7 months
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@stcreators event 01: favorite
Ahoy Captain
“Jesus H. Christ.” Eddie stopped walking so sharply that Gareth ran into his back. He did a double take and his jaw was on the floor.
“What the fu-“ But Gareth followed his gaze and his jaw also dropped. “Is that?”
Jeff came to stand next to them, eyebrows raised. “…Steve Harrington in a sailor outfit?”
“That’s the Steve Harrington you won’t shut up about?” Drew said, especially loud in the crowded mall.
“Shut up!” He turned to hiss at him before rounding back to stare across the hall. “Did I die and go to heaven? Pinch me.” He pulled the sleeve of his leather jacket up and offered his arm to Gareth. He pinched his forearm roughly, without looking down. All of their eyes were locked on the figure in the brightly colored ice cream shop, now coming around the counter to crouch down to hand a cone to a small child. Doing so making the tiny shorts ride up his thighs, but Eddie’s eyes were suddenly drawn to where his v-neck hung open, getting a glimpse of chest hair.
“Buh,” he turned to Gareth to announce.
“Yo, we have to go in there. This is like once in a lifetime shit.”
Eddie adamantly shook his head and started backing away but Gareth and the guys shared a look before suddenly grabbing him under the arms to escort him awkwardly through the mall thoroughfare.
“Oh no. Oh no.” He chanted under his breath.
Back behind the counter now, Steve greeted them as they bodily pushed him into the store. “Welcome, fellas! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain!”
“Holy shit,” Eddie breathed. It’s so much worse, being this close. Steve’s eyes shine under the terrible fluorescent lighting and he can see the muscles in his arms flex as he leans onto the counter.
“If you need any help let me know. The flavor of the week is triple decker extravaganza!”
Eddie’s brain had stopped working. His arms were dropped as his friends went further up to the counter to look at the ice cream options. He continued staring stupidly at Steve as he leaned a hip against the back counter.
“You guys check out the new record store yet?” Steve Harrington was actually making decent conversation with them. What universe did he teleport to this morning?
“No, not yet,” Gareth answered. “That’s where we were heading actually, when uh-“ he awkwardly turned around to make eye contact with Eddie, still a few feet behind them and drawing Steve’s attention over to him.
“You don’t want anything?” Steve asked him. Oh he wanted something. Wanted to drop to his knees in front of him. Or the other way around. He wouldn’t mind either way. He would’ve done anything to have Steve’s undivided attention on him and now that he had it he was blanking on English. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. He finally forced his body forward, tearing his eyes away from Steve to send a panicked look at Gareth. He just smirked, the absolute asshole.
Steve frowned at him and he wanted to melt into the floor. “If you’re not a fan of ice cream we have cookies, too.”
Steve being so sweet to him finally rattled some brain cells loose. “Oh, um, no, that’s-“
Jeff chuckled from the other side of Gareth. “Eddie here loves ice cream. That’s why we had to stop in. Isn’t that right, guys?” The rest of his band laughed obnoxiously and nodded. Steve looked at all of them confused, but still with an easy smile when he turned back to Eddie.
“What’s your favorite?”
“Um, huh?” Eddie blinked at him. He watched as Steve pulled his bottom lip in to bite it, probably trying to figure out what was happening with him and the guys. Eddie’s gut clenched. He hoped he didn’t think he was doing anything wrong or they were making fun of him.
“Your favorite ice cream? We can talk about any of your other favorites after we get that out of the way,” he grinned at him and Eddie had to grab the counter in front of him when his knees threatened to give out.
“Rocky road?”
“Perfect. Coming right up! Cup or cone? Or waffle bowl? It’s like a big cone in a cup?”
“Cone please?”
Once he wasn’t under the heavy gaze of gorgeous brown eyes, he turned to his friends for help. But Drew just snickered at him and Jeff sent him a thumbs up. Dicks.
Steve handed him his cone and their fingers brushed. He dumped all the change he had into the tip jar and Steve fucking winked at him. The guys ordered their ice creams suspiciously easily, but Steve kept coming back to Eddie’s side of the counter. He tried hard not to hold eye contact with him as he licked across his ice cream.
“So was it worth it?”
“Wh-what?” He stammered.
“Coming in, for the ice cream?”
“Definitely. The ice cream is… great.” He looked around and realized his friends had gone to sit in the furthest booth by the door. Steve had only been sweet and amazing to him and he couldn’t leave without at least having a somewhat competent conversation. “But I- I really came in to see you.”
“Me?” Steve leaned further across the counter towards him. He turned those big brown eyes up at him and Eddie wasn’t sure if he could get any other words out.
“Couldn’t walk away from you in this getup.” His hand moved on his own accord to reach out and tug on the red tie in the middle of his chest.
“Oh,” he huffed. “Yeah. I wish I would’ve known before I agreed to work here. Not that I had any better offers.”
Eddie’s fingers itched to run along the blush that appeared across his cheeks.
“No, no, it’s- I mean, I like it.” He winced as it came out, but his eyes shot open when Steve chuckled. “Really. I really like it.” He cleared his throat because that couldn’t have been his voice. It was deep and gravely and sounded way too fucking hot to have come out of his mouth.
Steve’s wide eyes tracked his tongue as it came out to wet his lips. Fuck.
“Oh.”
Eddie leaned a bit closer, drawing on this unknown confidence that came from Steve Harrington hanging on his every word. “So what time do you get off, Captain?”
xx
This was a benedryl-fueled thought but Scoops!uniform Steve was the only thing my brain wanted to give me for “favorite.”
@lighthousebeams
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liliacamethyst · 10 months
Note
I briefly expressed the idea of Miguel finding out his partner is pregnant in this imagine, and I can’t help but wonder about the possibility of Miguel finding out this way (just as angsty in my opinion).
Another alternate universe Drabble:
Your heart races as you swing through the city, the wind whipping past your face. You are exhilarated by the adrenaline that comes with being a superhero. You’ve always felt like you belonged in the skies, protecting the people who trust you.
But something feels different today. You’re more cautious, more protective, and it’s not just because of yourself. There’s someone else involved. The thought makes your heart swell. You recently found out you’re a few weeks pregnant, and the thought of being a parent excites you. But you’re also scared. You don’t know how Miguel will react, considering his past.
As you land on the rooftop, you notice Jessica Drew waiting for you. Your nausea catches up with you as you double over.
“Jessica Drew, you breathe a word of this to anyone and I will kill you with my bare hands,” you whisper fiercely through clenched teeth.
“How can you when you're throwing up every five minutes?” she retorts. At your wince, she huffs out a breath. “You gotta tell him, at the very least.”
You take a deep breath, nodding slightly. Before you can answer her, your spider-sense tingles and your head snaps up. From the corner of your eye, you see a figure cloaked in shadows zooming toward you and Jessica. You recognize him immediately – it's the Vulture.
"Jessica, look out!" you shout as you push her out of the way. The Vulture’s sharp talons miss her by inches.
You don't waste a moment, shooting webbing to pull yourself towards him. As you close in on the Vulture, you exchange blows, his claws trying to find purchase while your punches land solidly.
Meanwhile, Jessica joins in, and you both engage in a fierce battle above the city. The buildings become blurry as you fight, your focus narrowing down to the Vulture’s relentless attacks.
At one point you see an opening. Your instincts tell you to go for it. But just as you lunge forward, the Vulture spins and his wing catches you in the abdomen. The force sends you hurling toward a building. You try to shoot a web, but the pain is too much.
Jessica catches you before you hit the ground and lays you down gently. She’s saying something but the world is growing dark. You reach for your abdomen.
"Please.. protect my baby," you whisper before everything goes black.
-
As you slowly regain consciousness, a sterile scentfills your senses. Your body feels heavy and a dull ache resonates through your abdomen. Your heart clenches as the memory of the battle rushes back and you instinctively move a hand to your belly.
Soft murmurs float around you and you blink your eyes open to see Lyla beside you. Her holographic form is displaying medical data in front of Miguel, who is pacing back and forth with his hands behind his back and a deep, angry frown on his face.
"...stable, but she must exercise caution due to early stages of pregnancy..." Lyla's words cut through the fog in your head, and your breath catches.
Miguel freezes, his gaze snapping to Lyla then to you. His expression crumbles as he takes in what Lyla just said.You slowly push yourself into a sitting position, your hand still protectively over your belly. Your eyes lock with Miguel's, his eyes widen with disbelief.
"You... We... Is this...?" Miguel stammers, his voice barely above a whisper.
You give him a simple nod.
"But...how? How did this happen?" His voice is choked.
"Miguel, listen to me," you start, your voice steady yet just a little bit above a whisper, "You don’t have to... This isn’t an obligation.I dont expect anything from you. I can raise this child alone. I..."
But before you can finish, Miguel leans in, pressing his lips against yours, effectively silencing your rambling. It’s a gentle yet passionate kiss filled with so many unsaid emotions and promises.
I loved this idea, and I really hope this is what you were looking for 💜
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missglaskin · 5 months
Text
Yan!HOTD Characters as Greek Gods
I want to thank @aphroditelovesu for giving me the inspiration, also side note do not take the gods canonical relationships literally
Viserys as Hades + God of the Underworld and the Dead
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Viserys was a god who stood out from the gloomy darkness of his realm. The seat once shared by his beloved wife is now long dead with all the other souls. No temples were erected in his honor on the earthly soil, for the underworld served as his shrine. Still, Viserys lent many of his powers and crafts to help the other gods defeat their enemies, either it be a monster or a titan. When he needed to see his family, he would emerge to the earth itself. There a moral caught his eye. 
Viserys spent a great deal of time observing your everyday life. He enjoyed catching on to all your little habits and tendencies. The god was prepared to wait until your life's string came to an end. In the mean time, all good things came your way. While he wouldn't be able to stop your death from happening, he can certainly make it as peaceful and painless as possible. Viserys will welcome you with the greatest warmth when you arrive in his realm, and you will be surrounded by servants who will carry out your every wish.
Just as he has done all those other times Viserys will give you the time and space you need to adjust to this new, strange world. Desiring your happiness, Viserys might let you visit Earth but only for a short time. The god can't go too long without you by his side. He detests the idea of using coercion to get what he wants, but Viserys must make sure you never leave him. It is a blessing that you are a mortal, completely unaware of the pomegranate seeds that are given to you.
Daemon as Ares + God of War and Courage 
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It was Daemon, out of all the gods, who was most frowned upon, the one with the endless list of foes. Many came to fear him and they had every reason to. For Daemon was a powerful god-quick to anger and raring for a fight regardless of the consequences. A jest spread among the gods was that Daemon's one and only true love was war itself. But what a shock it was to see the mortal in the god's arms. With his remarks and the severe violence he inflicted upon the mortals, Daemon, again and again demonstrated nothing but contempt and superiority over them.
Why you attracted the god of war's attention will forever remain a mystery. Could it be you had a fire inside of you that never went out or you had such a gentle soul that the god saw it as his duty to ruin you, or perhaps he saw you as a fair trade for one of his victories. Truthfully, Daemon himself is not fully sure what drew him to you. Still, the god comes to you, luring you in with lavish gifts and words sweet as honey. And if you aren’t compliant, the god sees no issue picking you up while you struggle to free yourself-screaming and clawing. 
Daemon has no care for what other Olympian deities thought when he kept you near him. They were already not fond of him and he was amused to no end to see their frustration, even having you displayed seated on his lap. Your life with Daemon is strangely not as dull and miserable as one might anticipate. He will always be rough and harsh, but you are shown a rare side of gentleness. You may never know if the god truly loves you, but you can be sure that if someone takes what he views as his, he will go to war a hundred times over it.
Rhaenyra as Athena + Goddess of Wisdom and War
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Rhaenyra is a goddess with pride. A great warrior. Rhaenyra does not, however, hold humankind in such low regard as the many gods who came before her. She saw herself as their protector and rewarded those who came to worship in her temple. But it's not as if she isn't dangerous. The goddess is unmerciful in her use of curses. Any offense or insult will result in a terrible fate. And what fate bestows upon you when the goddess herself watches you. Desiring you from the very moment she caught sight of you. 
She is a master of disguise. Every word she spoke enticed you further and further into her grasp. There were the fleeting touches the goddess made to your skin to pique your desire. Her lips were painted with a smile that lowered your guard. You find yourself becoming a puppet as Rhaenyra hovers over you, pulling the strings to speak the words she wants you to hear, to touch her how she wants to be touched, and look at her how she wants to be gazed upon. 
Rhaenyra never wants you to leave her realm. The goddess is ready to gift you whatever your heart desires, but the earth is no longer a place you can call home. Rhaenyra will never lay a hand on you; gentle and soft with you. The only times you no longer see your lover but the goddess of war is if you are foolish enough to believe you can get away from her. She won’t understand. Has she not dedicated herself to you. Has she not given you every ounce of her heart. Whatever the reason is, your place remains by her side and she will make sure you know of this.
Rhaenys as Hecate + Goddess of Magic and the Moon
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Rhaenys, the goddess of sorcery and the moon, who her domain also extends to creatures of the night; particularly hounds and ghosts. She’s often seen accompanied by her black hounds, donning a long robe, holding burning torches. Neither was she evil, nor was she wholly benevolent, but she did reveal her nature through actions, rewarding loyalty among her followers. Captivated by your presence in her temple, the goddess of sorcery was drawn to your compassion and innocence. She found herself spending more time just observing you, enchanted by how your features glowed in the gentle embrace of moonlight. 
Rhaenys has always been confident and assertive, when she’s certain that she desires you, she’ll do whatever it takes to have you by her side. However, she’ll stray away from using force. If she’ll seek your companionship, Rhaenys resolutes in waiting it be your choice, to love her the same rather than do it with instilling fear in you. Her introduction was gradual, allowing you to adapt in time to her presence. Much of this is involved in simple conversations, where she enjoys getting to know the little details of your life (even if she already knew most of it). 
Instead of overwhelming you with extravagant gifts, she opted for small trinkets. And adding to the ease of your connection, Rhaenys’s mystical hounds display a fondness for you, allowing you to pet them. Even when you remain in her domain, Rhaenys remains steadfast in not forcing you to love her. She has all the patience as the goddess begins to slowly express her affection more openly with gentle caresses to your face as she presents you with more lavish gifts. Her patience was rewarded seeing how eager you are to spend every moment with her.
Corlys as Poseidon + God of the Sea and Waters
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Not only was Corlys the god of the seas but also associated with earthquakes and horses. He stood out as a highly ambitious deity and known for his unwavering loyalty to Mount Olympus. Unlike some deities, Corlys is willing to engage with mortals, after all, they have a dependence on the seas for trade and travel. However, it’s also known that when dealing with the god of the sea, do not try to trick or cross him, for he has demonstrated a vengeful nature when felt insulted. 
It was during your many ventures near the beach, having a profound love and fascination for the sea that you encountered the god of the sea. In your frequent visits, the shores yielded treasures ranging from the most beautiful seashells to even a literal pearl, a gift from the god. Upon making his presence known, Corlys takes matters into his own hands. Taking you to the temple beneath the sea as he cannot rely on chance encounters by the shore and it’ll save him all the trouble of finding you if you choose to never visit again. 
Your place from now on remains with Corly’s temple. He has made promises to make you visit the shore from time to time once he’s confident you won’t attempt an escape. Eager to please, Corlys has an allure of lost treasures within his home, offering you any if you desire. He also takes great care to ensure your comfort, harboring no intention of causing harm or raising his voice. His desire is clear- to have you willingly at his side. 
Laena as Aphrodite + Goddess of Love and Beauty
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Laena was more than just being thegoddess of beauty and love; she was one of fertility, pleasure, and eternal youth. Occasionally she presided over marriage. Legends went so far as to attribute her beauty to being the cause of the Trojan War. Despite her being desired and adored by everyone, even capturing the affections of the infamous god of war himself, Laena's heart chose you; a mortal who didn’t seem all that extraordinary. But none of that mattered to the goddess of love, who found herself drawn to you, desiring nothing more than for you to share her boundless love and adoration. 
When Laena first approached you, she displayed no hesitation in expressing her clear intentions of wanting to court you. Doves and sparrows seemed to fly around you. In the vicinity of your home, myrtles and roses bloomed abundantly and Laena took it upon herself to personally hand you the blossoms, alongside the most marvelous seashells. Whenever you expressed gratitude or attempted to deny her gifts out of politeness, Laena would firmly assure you that you deserved nothing but the best. As she would engage in conversations, Laena would hold your gaze, running her fingers on your cheek or shoulder with such tenderness. 
Even after you became hers, Laena never stops showering you with praise and luscious gifts. The dresses she adorned you with were among the most lavish you had ever seen, and men would certainly go to war for the jewelry that adorned your skin. And for her home, which she claims is now your home too, she’s willing more than anything to accommodate any of your demands to make it all the more welcoming. Whether it’s placing all your favorite books or presenting you all your favorite foods. After all, you’re destined to spend the rest of your life with her.  
Otto as Zeus + God of the Sky and Thunder 
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Otto stood as the god among gods, the force behind the establishment of order and justice in Olympus. It was his duty as king, to reign and ensure harmony throughout the divine realm. He had a number of children; it counted those that were outside of his marriage. Mortals and gods alike collectively averted their gaze, as the god of thunder desired to maintain an image of a prudent and a pious. And while like any god, he considered himself above mortal beings, he would observe them with keen interest. 
Unfortunate for you, if you happened to catch his eye, resisting him was a futile endeavor. It began with him orchestrating ways to make your life more comfortable — discovering the lushest trees near your home, bearing the most delectable fruits you'd ever savor. An eagle, acting as his messenger, would shower you with all sorts of gifts, from fragrant olive oils to delicate silver coins and ivory trinkets. The weather seemed to dance to his whims, birds serenading under the radiant sun.
It was also his way to signal his presence, a silent acknowledgment a being beyond the mortal realms was watching. And when his presence becomes known, he vows to treasure you for eternity (hinting at what’ll become of your mortal life). It’s difficult to deny him with all the myriad blessings he bestowed upon you. Once you’re brought to his home, he will present you with a luxurious silk robe and servants who dutifully follow your every command. Even if you resist, his determination remains unswayed. As a god, time was his ally and he believed in due course, you would succumb to his temptations.
Alicent as Hera + Goddess of Marriage and Childhood
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Alicent stood as the embodiment of matrimony and domestic life, a revered figure to whom women turned in prayer for the blessings of harmonious marriages, the safe return of their husbands, and in hopes of birthing a healthy child. Despite her attempts to project a demure demeanor, the goddess had a silent reputation for her jealousy and occasional vengefulness. Alicent had divine authority, navigating the intricate game of politics and perhaps that was why no one dared to question her decision to bring a mortal being along.  
It was all under the reason of needing a servant though you were not yet married, still, no one dared to voice it. As her supposed servant, you were strangely exempt from menial tasks such as washing clothes or scrubbing the floor; such duties were deemed beneath you. Instead, the majority of your days were spent in the company of the goddess. You found yourself dressing and brushing Alicent’s hair as she shared her grievances about the perceived foolishness surrounding her court. 
Your time was further consumed by tending to Hera’s children and grandchildren, and her strictures extended to where you were not permitted to eat meals with other servants. In truth, the goddess had little need for another servant. But you a mortal, had sought her prayer, coming to her temple wishing for a happy life for the arrangement your parents orchestrated for you. But Alicent had been watching you long before and you have become the object of her desire. She promised to find you a suitor but the intensity of her gaze and the uncanny resemblance between the necklace of hers and the one she gifted you hints at something beyond that. 
Aegon II as Dionysus + God of Wine and Pleasure 
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Aegon is known for seemingly lazy nature and rarely being seen sober, he’s notorious for the wild parties and dramatic theaters he orchestrates. The many lovers he has are ones that no one bothers to learn their names, as they typically don’t linger beyond a day. The few bastards he fathered are not accounted for. When the god of wines comes upon you, there was an unmistakable eagerness to have you in his bed. While you and others are at no fault to assume that it was driven solely by lust, you soon find it unraveled beyond that. 
As a mortal, the prospect of rejecting a god was not a reasonable one. His presence was suffocating with a possessive jealousy over your interactions with others and an incessant need for you to be near him. At times, he would pull you into his lap, craving for your affection and praise. Besides his constant need to have you share his bed at every turn, his lingering hands, and wanting your every attention, it’s not as terrible as one initially assumes. 
The god of wine provided you with the sweetest food, accompanied of course by his signature wine. He adorned you in exquisite clothing, though in the privacy of his chambers, they were far more revealing and sheer. While it was somewhat accepted to have fleeting lovers for a day, appearing with you by his side on every occasion garnered disapproval from the other gods. However, Aegon was indifferent; no stranger to being considered a disappointment. You were the one thing he was sure of, even harboring a secret desire to make you immortal, hoping you don’t notice how different your wine tastes.
Helaena as Persephone + Goddess of Seasons and Vegetation
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Helaena possessed a kind of gentleness that was unusual among the gods. She carried herself with such grace and consideration. Helaena grew up to be a lovely woman who caught the interest of gods and humans alike. With mortals, the goddess did not look down on them. If anything, Helaena seemed to see the goodness and beauty in them despite all of their flaws. It therefore comes as no great surprise when the goddess seems so enchanted by you-a simple mortal. 
Helaena spent many days watching you. She possessed unending patience. What a fascinating sight you are. Deemed by the goddess to be the most beautiful being to ever walk this earth. Helaena cared nothing more than your happiness hence why you come home to a plethora of gifts and trinkets. It could be the most delicious fruit you've ever eaten or a dress the goddess sewed herself. And wherever you are, you found plants growing all around that never seem to wither-fruits and vegetables you never imagined would ever grow there.
Helaena was content as long as she could see you every day. Even if she couldn't speak or stand before you. All that mattered to her was to see your lovely smile as you open her gifts or to hear your joyful laughter. But shall you wish to meet her. Shall you seem unsatisfied with your life. Helaena will make her presence known. The goddess is nothing but a tender lover. Giving you all the time you need to adjust to her realm. Happy to watch from a distance and just speak with you.
Aemond as Apollo - God of Sun and Art
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Aemond was also a god of music, truth, and healing, he was considered wise even at such a relatively young age. He enjoyed writing poems and believed in law and order. Unlike his brother, Aemond was recognized for his numerous contributions, particularly in the realms of medicine and prophecy. Aemond shows intense loyalty to his family and a great love for his mother but also is known for his jealousy and a wrathful nature; particularly when he perceives insults directed at his family or either himself. 
Many of your actions could’ve caught his eye, your visits to his temple, your singing voice echoing through the fields, how you immersed yourself far away from everyone else with the books you read. He doesn’t wish to frighten you,  guided by a gentle approach to engage you in conversations. You can feel his gaze follow you, a silent presence that seems to accompany your every move. In due time, Aemond would express his desire for you to be his lover, to not only give him your body, but your mind and soul. Even if you do not share his feelings, denying him is not advisable, Aemond is not one for rejections. 
Even if you were to deny him, Aemond would still bring you to Mount Olympus, introducing you to the other gods, making sure you understood that your place belonged with him. And while he attempts to give you some space, the god of the sun cannot bring himself to stay away. Aemond sought to spend every moment of the day with you, from sharing the same bed, to waking together to sharing meals. He yearns to hear your every thought from the flowers you liked to your opinion on the poetry he’s dedicated to you.
Criston as Heracles + Demi- God of Strength and Heroes
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Criston was born a mortal. Yet even as a child, Criston showed such strength and courage unmatched by any other. He has proven to be a fierce warrior over the years. While he was hailed as a hero, many of his rage-fueled actions beg to differ. It took Criston to die to be reborn as the Demi-god. Taken from the flames to Mount Olympus where he was granted eternal youth and the right to live among the gods. He was offered a goddess, but Criston had his eyes set somewhere else.
Criston believes he must protect you. That you need him far more than he needs you. You are just a mere mortal. One fall can be fatal. Doesn't matter that his involvement could be the very reason your life is at forfeit. Makes no difference the many times you struggle and try to escape him. Criston holds you in his arms, repeating the same mantra over and over. That you have a need for him. That he must shield you from all those who will harm you. He rarely leaves your side, and no amount of begging or insults will convince him to do so.
As your lover, you have a man capable of crushing a village to ruins, capable of winning against an army. You bring out the worst in him, the madness. A madness seen in the mere thought of you being in another’s arms. Criston won't accept the possibility of your death. He was blessed with the gift of immortality and will stop at nothing to grant you the same blessing. A wonderful thought to him, but a nightmare to you. Given the chaos that will be left behind, the gods may grant him his wish.
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twilghtkoo · 10 months
Text
ride: first date [part one] jjk
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“you nervous?” “yeah.”
summary. you’re first date with jungkook and he’s picking you up on his motorcycle
pairings. biker!jungkook x reader (f)
genres/au. fluff, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, college au
warnings. flirty jungkook, oc and jk touch each other (not sexual), poor attempt at motorcycle knowledge (my fault) T__T, if i missed anything pls lmk!!
word count. 1.6k
notes. first part!! and the beginning of a new series but with jungkook o.o i rly liked this one hehe, pls like and reblog if u enjoyed this !! also did y’all see jungkook’s promotion schedule photo bc W T F
[ series masterpost | masterlist | taglist ]
you’re the girl he’s had a crush on since he saw you for the first time in the library on campus. you were wearing grey sweatpants and a random hoodie with your hair tied up in a low ponytail, your glasses framing your face in the most prettiest way. you were frantically typing and writing stuff down on your laptop, and when he had walked over to take a seat next to you— after the pep talk he had with himself— your notes still looked neat and colorful despite your distressed scribbling.
after he had the courage to tap you on the shoulder and start a conversation, you’ve both quickly became friends. it was surprising to see how well you both bonded together. and you’re not usually someone who makes friends so easily, it having to do with your shyness and social anxiety. but jungkook had a charm and such an easy-going personality that drew you in.
you’ve mostly hung out on campus, both of your schedules not aligning in your favors due to exam season. so your hangouts were located in the library most of the time. opting to studying together and just being satisfied basking in each others presence.
around the tenth hangout, jungkook asked you out on a date. you were working on a quiz and he was writing an essay when he slid a piece of paper over to you before he went back to typing on his laptop.
will you go out on a date with me this saturday?
check ☐ yes or ☐ yes :)
you would’ve said yes even if he gave you a ‘no’ option.
-
a couple days later, before the weekend, he had walked you to the campus’s bus stop and waited with you. you had an evening class and it ended around eight, the blue sky now turning a shade darker as the minutes pass and it made you frown.
“how do you get home? you said you park in parking garage b and that’s across campus. you didn’t have to walk me here, although i really appreciate it.” you said, worried. from the eyes of others, jungkook looks tough, if his tattoos, piercings, fit figure had anything to go by. but you cared about him and it’s natural for you to be worried. anything could happen.
your concerns make him grin, he shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
“i’m okay, promise. and i ride my bike to get places.” he assures you.
you tilt your head, staring at him with curious eyes. “like a motorcycle?”
he nods, holding his small grin when he watches your eyes grow bigger.
you gasp, “really? you own a motorcycle?”
“yup, she’s my baby. got her when i turned 20. she’s precious to me.” he tells you before leaning down next to your ear. “but don’t worry you’re more precious.”
you didn’t have time to respond because your transportation pulls up and jungkook grabs your hand to walk you to the entrance of the bus.
-
jungkook arrived at your place a bit early but he couldn’t help it. he was excited. he had texted you he was here but told you not to rush.
he’s has never been this nervous in his life since having to tell his mom he wanted to major in computer science and not med school like she wanted. he’s nervous because he’s going on a date with you.
and you’re in your bedroom trying to gather your necessities into your shoulder bag, deciding to take a peek through your window that shows the front of your building and you’re able to see jungkook next to his bike.
he’s not sure how to stand when you walk out your door. should he lean against his bike with his arms crossed? he almost decided to just sit on it but why if he’s going to get off anyways to greet you. should he pretend he’s on his phone until he sees you?
“kook!”
he is shaken out of his internal turmoil when he spots you lightly jogging up to him, a radiant smile lighting up your entire face with warmth and joy.
“sorry, did i make you wait?” she brushes a few strands of hair out of her face, peering up at him with guilt and curiosity with the shiny black bike next to him.
he quickly shakes his head. “no, i wasn’t waiting long. don’t worry.” he assured you.
“you look pretty.” jungkook compliments you, scanning your features with the same grin he had when he had asked you out on a date.
you blush, “thank you, you too. i mean, you look really really handsome.”
his eyes crinkled at the edges and the corners of his lips turned upwards. his lip piercings shining and glaring from the sunlight, almost blinding you.
he notices you staring at his bike with interest.
“you nervous?”
“yeah.” you admit, sheepishly smiling.
you watch as jungkook unzips his leather jacket and sliding it off before he makes his way to you. he helps you slide off your bag before helping you slide your arms in the sleeves. his smell and the soft scent of his cologne makes you feel giddy inside and makes your heart hammer.
“i’ll ride slow, i have precious cargo today.” he responds, zipping the jacket up and grabbing all your hair from out the jacket. an action that makes your heart beat louder out of your chest.
you slide your bag back over your head to rest on your shoulder as you watch jungkook grab the helmet that rested on the back of his bike.
“did the bike come with an extra helmet?” you question, genuinely curious.
he’s careful to not mess up your hair as he slides the helmet over your head, and strapping it on.
he hums before he responds. “no, i bought it yesterday.” he tightens a strap, then asking if it was too tight, you said no.
“you bought it for me?”
“i told you, i have precious cargo. can’t have nothing happen to you.” he finishes making sure your helmet was secured, lightly patting the top of it before he slid his on.
watching jungkook do his thing and putting on his gloves was kind of hot…okay, really hot.
jungkook gets on first, kicking the kick stand off the ground and holds out his gloved hand for you to take. giving your hand a squeeze as he notices your small steps before you climb on behind him. instantly wrapping your arms around his tiny waist, when you tightened your grasp you were able to feel the sculpted muscles underneath his t-shirt. only making you intrigued on what’s hiding beneath the thin cotton fabric.
“hold on to me okay, squeeze me if anything.” he tells you softly, but you know he’s serious.
-
the sound of his motorcycle coming to life was like a breath of fresh air. in fact, his frequent gentle touches at stop lights were everything calming and you appreciated it.
the light just turned red and jungkook slows down to a stop. your knees rested against his hips as your arms circled his waist, both your hands linked together. he frees his hands from the handle bars to rest on your hands, giving them a squeeze.
and god, you’re very thankful for this helmet that’s hiding your red face and your embarrassingly huge smile.
his hands then roam to your knees then down your shins, patting a rhythm and then running over your denim covered leg soothingly.
is he doing this to make you go crazy? cause it’s working.
you’re not sure if it was the coffee you had this morning or his touches that boosted this sudden confidence but your hands loosened around his hips and gripped them. squeezing where his bare skin ends and you feel the hem of his black jeans.
jungkook places a hand over yours, not letting your hands move anywhere else. he wants yours to stay where it’s at for the moment.
he tilts his head back. “you doing okay?”
you nod, “yeah, you’re a safe driver. five stars.” you joke.
he chuckles at that and the light turns green.
-
he took you to a dog cafe. not just any dog cafe, but a corgi cafe. you didn’t even know this cafe existed. oh but through the big window in the front of the building, seeing the few corgis you could see, you wanted to burst with excitement.
“you like corgis?” he asks, pointing to the pen that’s in your hand with an acrylic artwork of a corgi at the end. you had bought it at a stationery store a few weeks ago.
your lips curve upward into a small but genuine smile. “yeah, they’re my favorite dogs.”
he smiles with you, mentally storing that information into his brain.
“you haven’t been here before have you?” he asks nervously, helping you off the bike and unstrapping your helmet. he helps you fix your hair and brushes back a few strands.
you shake your head. “no, i didn’t even know a corgi cafe existed here.”
“good, i was worried you’ve already been here.” he holds his hand out for you to take, in which you did.
you’re swaying on your feet unconsciously, switching gazes from the nervous boy and the sight of a freaking corgi cafe in front of you.
but jungkook notices you.
he hums out, “come on pretty, don’t wanna keep you out too late.”
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