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#nothing could have prepared me for the last part
mimicdive · 2 days
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Proof of Concept?
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Summary: Bi!Reader feels insecure in their sexuality and Spencer offers validation. Word Count: 933 Content Warnings: referenced/implied biphobia, no pronouns are used but reader is AFAB, mostly dialogue Author's Note: written for @imagining-in-the-margins's Pride Challenge! written as a combination of the bisexual prompts :)
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As pride merch began to weave its way back into mass-consumer culture, large chains preparing for Pride Month, you couldn’t help the niggling of doubt in the back of your mind. Growing up, sexuality wasn’t an open topic of discussion in your family, and though you’d eventually been able to figure it out on your own with the help of the internet, social media, and several very attractive celebrities, it wasn’t uncommon for you to feel insecure in your sexuality. Bisexuality, despite its status as one of the most common sexualities in the queer community, was often overshadowed, both in your life and in the larger community.
Of course, it was easy to fall into stereotypes–bi with a preference for women, yet still dating a man. Not that you could complain about Spencer, he was everything you’d ever wanted and more. Yet, that doubting of your sexuality still bothered you from time to time. Were you really bisexual if you’d never been romantically involved with a woman? If the only kisses you’d ever shared with a woman were fleeting and meaningless? When the only romantic interests you’d pursued had been male?
It was difficult to articulate, even more difficult to say aloud. Many of your close friends were straight and were unable to offer more than comfort. And your boyfriend…well. You weren’t unhappy in your relationship with Spencer, far from it. Part of you was worried that a discussion about your sexuality would cause him to feel insecure in your relationship, and that was the last thing you wanted. Another more irrational part of you, built out of feelings of shame and doubt, feared that he would confirm your worries and invalidate your sexuality.
Logically, you knew Spencer wasn’t that kind of person. Armed with this knowledge, you brought it up after dinner one night as you were perched together on the couch, watching an old foreign film with a name you wouldn’t even attempt to pronounce.
“Do you think that it’s weird?” you blurted out.
Spencer furrowed his brow and paused the movie. “Do I think that what is weird?”
“That I say I’m bi even if I’ve never been in a relationship with a woman? Or even pursued one?”
Inhaling sharply, Spencer frowned. “Is this your way of telling me you want to pursue a relationship outside of ours?”
You shook your head vigorously. “No, no, not at all. It’s just…you know, Pride is rolling around soon, and it caused a thought spiral, seeing the merchandise resurfacing in stores. I mean, am I really valid in my identity if there seems to be nothing indicating that I am truly attracted to women?”
Spencer visibly relaxed when you clarified that this was nothing about your relationship. He moved closer to you, taking your hand in his and interlacing your fingers.
“Love, there’s nothing wrong with being queer in a straight-passing relationship. And not having previous involvement in romantic relationships with someone of the other gender doesn’t mean that you’re not bi. Sexuality isn’t defined in concrete terms. It’s fluid, and it’s a different experience for many people. Plus, you don’t need to prove it to anyone. You can be attracted to women and never have been in a relationship with one. How you feel is how you feel.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Plus, I’ve seen how you look at the women in your favorite shows.”
Your face heated, and you groaned. 
“And in public, for that matter,” he added with a chuckle. 
You buried your head in your hands. “I was just admiring their outfits…”
“It’s understandable for you to feel the way you do,” Spencer stated, voice taking on a more serious tone. “Society places a lot of pressure on labels and certain boxes you have to conform to if you identify with any label. We’re told how we can and can’t present ourselves. But really, all that matters is that you’re true to yourself. And at the end of the day, you don’t need to have a label if it’s causing undue stress.”
“It feels like I had everything figured out about my sexuality when I was younger. I knew I liked men, and I knew I liked women, and everyone and anyone in between. I didn’t care what other people thought. But now that I’m older, it just feels like I’ve adopted a label that doesn’t matter. All people see is that I’m dating a man, and they make assumptions based on that,” you sighed.
Spencer brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Like I said, it’s about what’s true to you, not anyone else. You’re no less valid for being in a relationship with a man than a bisexual woman would be for being in a relationship with a woman. Bisexual erasure is unfortunately common, even in the LGBTQ+ community, with people preferring absolutes–you’re either ‘gay’ or ‘straight’ or it’s too complicated. You don’t have to ‘pick a side’.”
You felt tears welling up as the burden you’d learned to ignore seemed to dissolve, lifting an immense weight from your shoulders. It’d been eons since you’d allowed yourself to open up and discuss your anxieties about your sexuality in this manner, and to find yourself supported and seen by one of the most important people in your life was ultimately reassuring.
“I love you, you know that?” Spencer whispered. “Your sexuality isn’t going to change that.”
“I love you too.” You paused, squeezing his hand. “Thank you.” 
He kissed your forehead as you settled back in, starting the film from where you’d left off.
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bethelighthalazia · 3 days
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Breakfast in bed
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Summary:  What could turn a stormy and thunderous morning into the best morning of the week? This would be the only explanation of Jongho's actions on this Sunday morning.
Genre: fluff
Pairing: dad!Jongho x fem!reader
Word Count:  804
Warnings: very cute?, Jongho being a sweetheart, some fluff and cute domestic stuff 
[note: this fic is only partially beta´d. its also part of a miniseries for dad!ateez]
HJ, SH, YH, YS, S, MG, WY, JH
networks: @newworldnet
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© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.
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Sunday. A day in the week, on which you would get out of bed, prepare breakfast for your husband and daughter and then try to make them go for a walk through the park. Today however, you´re woken by a rumbling thunder. 
Groaning, you turn around under your blanket to wrap your arms around your husband, but only grasp nothing. Where was he? Had your daughter yelled for him because she was scared? Turning again, you looked at the alarm clock on your nightstand; 10:30 am already. What happened and where was Jongho?
You heard the main door close and a squeaked giggle from your daughter, have they been outside in this weather? “Shh, we don´t want to wake eomma, she went to bed late last night.” Jongho said quietly, you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. Slowly, you got up and wrapped yourself in your bathrobe, your footsteps almost not to be heard as you dragged yourself to the living area of the apartment. 
Neither of them noticed you watching, Jongho giggling quietly as he helped Byeol take off her muddy rubber boots and her little raincoat. Your three years old daughter truly comes after her dad, fearless and the cute nose scrunch when she laughs included. Before your daughter could run off, Jongho already picked her up, carrying her over to the bathroom, the grocery bags standing in the hallway. You quietly went and unpacked the groceries, listening to your husband and your daughter with a smile. Despite Jongho being an Idol, the three of you were living in a small apartment and it was wonderful, you wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
Jongho's voice, accompanied by the giggles of your daughter echo through the apartment and it makes your heart swell. “We only need one little towel for you, Byeol- no, no that's eomma’s we can't-” Your husband tries to negotiate with the still giggling three years old, he'll bend to all her wishes and whining in less than a second, you just knew it. “Okay, okay fine…you can have eomma's towel- not this? But- Byeol, wait!” You weren't able to hold back your laughter when he, once again, gave in to the wishes of his daughter, which the girl heard and promptly came running. The view of her, wrapped into his too big bathrobe and dragging your towel after her, just drew more laughter and a soft smile from you.
When Jongho finally caught up, he saw you standing there, the little girl on your hip, the towel in your other hand. He slowly approached you to press a soft kiss on your lips, but a tiny hand between your faces stopped him, causing his eyes to go wide. “Why, Byeol?” He asked the giggling girl, who just pouted. “Appa no kissy! My eomma, my appa. Only me kissy!” The pout still on her lips, Byeol leaned towards Jongho, both her hands on each side of your husband's face as she gave his face a squeeze. The laugh from you caused him to stare at you, his expression priceless. “Yah, don't laugh at me, y/n. I just want a kiss from you, jagiya!” He whined and you then leaned in to kiss him, which then caused Byeol to squeak and try to separate the two of you. 
“Eomaaa!” Byeol then whined and you gave her a surprised look, head tilted. “You nap! Appa me make food!” She explained and you couldn't hold back another little chuckle, before handing her back to your husband. “Okay fine, i´ll leave you two and go back to bed then. Make sure she doesn´t hurt herself, Jongho.” “Don't worry, love. Go and rest a little more.” He hums and when his lips pressed a last kiss to your forehead, you left for the bedroom again.
The sounds of kitchen utensils clattering and your husband and the little ball of joy that is your daughter let you doze off, making you sleep a dreamless sleep until you are woken by two kisses. There they were, Jongho wearing an apron and looking rather disheveled and exhausted and next to him was Byeol. They had brought a tray with breakfast, some pancakes, some savory bits and homemade orange juice. “Birthday eomma! Appa and Byeol made food!” Your daughter squeaked, pushing a picture into your hands as she climbed up onto the bed to cuddle with you. Jongho couldn't hold back a chuckle, it wasn't your birthday, and he did try to explain it to Byeol, yet, he also didn't want to lessen her joy of giving you gifts. And after all, he got to spend a wonderful morning baking and cooking with her for you. So, he made both of his most beloved girls happy, and that's what counts, right?
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taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson, @hotteokkay, @minkilicious, @bunnliix,
@gong-fourz, @yeosangiess, @dinossaurz, @scuzmunkie, @h3arteyes4mingi
(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)
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slaymitchabernathy · 3 days
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Diva
Coriolanus takes one last glance in the mirror before exiting the closet. He looks perfect.
He really shouldn't worry too much about his appearance, not tonight when it's supposed to be a somewhat casual dinner but he can't help but feel the need to always show up and show off.
He is, after all, a Snow.
Tonight marks the beginning of his Presidential campaign and to celebrate his bright and glorious future, he's invited several friends over to his penthouse. Most of his friends have coupled up at this point in their lives, going nowhere without their significant others.
Not that he can blame them. He does the same thing himself.
He strides into the hallway and towards the dining room where he finds Soarynn setting the plates. All the napkins have been perfectly folded, all the correct utensils put in place and she's gone with the plates that have roses painted onto them.
If she hadn’t chosen to go into fashion, she certainly could be an event planner.
He scans the dining room table, pleased with the setup until he notices the centerpiece is bigger than usual, and it’s…moving.
Petunia.
“Darling,” he says, approaching the table where Petunia has made herself right at home, “why is Petunia still out?”
Petunia hisses at him as if on instinct and Soarynn frowns and scoops her up, cradling her as if the cat is a small child. Coriolanus notices how smug the feline looks, “Why wouldn’t she be out? Everyone loves her,” Soarynn replies. Unfortunately, she’s right. Most of their friends and acquaintances are smitten with Petunia who constantly demands attention whenever people come over.
But tonight is about him.
Coriolanus knows he has to be firm with his decision, and as the head of their small household, he ought to be respected as well. “Go put her in our bedroom, she’ll have much more fun in there than out here begging for our attention.”
Soarynn frowns and looks down at her cat who’s already looking up at her, waiting for her to protest her luxurious imprisonment. “Are you sure?” She asks softly, rubbing Petunia’s head, “Suppose she gets lonely?”
Coriolanus nearly rolls his eyes at that suggestion which in his opinion, is a weak argument. “Suppose she scratches someone’s eyes out, then what will we do?” He counters before taking the last few steps to reach the love of his life, “I’m not asking darling, she needs to be put away until the night is over.” He rests a hand on her waist and Soarynn sighs, which means he won.
“Alright. Let’s go get you settled before the guests arrive Petunia,” Soarynn says to the cat who is staring at Coriolanus like he’s the bane of her existence. Coriolanus gives her a smirk before heading into the kitchen to make sure everything’s been prepared properly.
Normally, he isn’t too fond of having servants in the house, too much risk of them stealing something. But the cook that Soarynn hired a few months ago for things like this has proven to be fantastic at her job. “Good evening Mr. Snow,” she nods before getting back to the food. Coriolanus nods in return and is more than pleased with the spread she’s prepared.
“The guests will be arriving shortly,” he tells her before walking into the living room. He and Soarynn spent a good part of the afternoon making sure that everything was spotless. Soarynn joins him a moment later with a flustered look on her face and Coriolanus can only guess why. It probably has something to do with the constant yowling he can hear from down the hall.
“I take it she didn’t appreciate being relocated to the bedroom,” he muses and Soarynn shakes her head, “The poor darling didn’t want to let me go.”
Petunia, for the most part, is a loving house cat who adores Soarynn with all her heart. Coriolanus always thought that no one on earth could love Soarynn the way he did. Then Petunia came along. He truly has no one to blame but himself considering he was the one who made the decision to bring her into their home.
The pet-shop owner had been nothing but enthusiastic about his purchase. “They sleep all day,” the man had said. What he should have said was: “They knock down vases and try to eat your socks, oh, and they’ll hide under furniture and bat at your ankles!”
Coriolanus sometimes wondered if he had been scammed.
Either way, Petunia was here to stay. And after a bit of research, Coriolanus learned that if taken care of properly, cats can live into their twenties.
Had he known that a cat would’ve been such a long-term commitment, he would’ve bought Soarynn a goldfish.
“She’ll be fine,” he decides as the doorbell rings, announcing their first guest. Soarynn nods and gives him a small smile, “It’s only for a few hours,” she agrees.
꧁ ꧂
“You couldn’t pay me to care about the Districts,” Festus slurs. He’s had four too many drinks but he’s far too inebriated to stop now.
Coriolanus smiles and leans back in his chair, "Well it's a good thing you're not the one running for President." This draws laughs from all his friends who have gathered in his study. After a wonderful dinner, the men and women diverged. The women went to the living room and the men to his study where they could get into deeper conversations without offending or boring the opposite sex.
Festus seems quite comfortable in one of the plush armchairs and his drunken gaze settles on a framed photograph sitting on one of the bookshelves. It's of Soarynn who's dressed in a baby blue dress, holding Petunia to her chest while standing on the rooftop near the roses. Coriolanus remembers taking that photo, Soarynn had wanted Petunia to see the roses and the moment had been too precious to not photograph it.
Petunia looks so small in the photo, not as mean as she is now in his opinion.
"When're you going to ask her to marry you?" Festus asks and Coriolanus immediately glances at the doorway to ensure that none of the ladies heard Festus and his drunken question. All of Soarynn's friends are lovely, but, they have a habit of spreading rumors that half of the time aren't true. He doesn't need one of them to overhear this.
Coriolanus clears his throat and tugs at his shirt collar, "Once I become President." Felix smirks and glances around the study that is filled with expensive furniture, liquor, and lots of photographs of the woman Coriolanus loves so dearly. "I'd say they're practically married already," he teases.
Coriolanus rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his bourbon, he and Soarynn have been together for so long that it certainly does feel like they're already married sometimes. But marriage is an entirely different commitment. He needs to focus on becoming President first, then he can marry the girl of his dreams.
Before Festus can ask another drunk question, Coriolanus hears quite the commotion coming from outside, lots of gasping. He furrows his brows and begins to wonder if perhaps there's a bug or something. But if there was, Soarynn would've been running for the hills already.
He remembers the one time when she had gone to take a shower, only to come running into the living room covered in bubbles crying and screaming about a bug being in the shower with her. Coriolanus had teased her about it for weeks.
He exchanges a look with Felix before pushing himself up from his chair and venturing outside and down the hall to find out what's going on. He can hear all the ladies giggling and whispering and once he turns the corner he can see all of them looking down at something on the floor.
"Is everything alright?" He asks, some worry coloring his voice.
Soarynn can't even open her mouth to answer before he hears a meow.
Petunia.
Soarynn gives him a somewhat guilty-looking smile before she bends down and scoops up the cat who looks more than pleased with herself. That diva. Coriolanus presses his lips into a thin line, the cat was not supposed to be let out tonight.
But he can't even get a word in before Clemensia is scoffing at his expression, "Oh, please Coryo, we all love Petunia and wanted to see her. You're just upset because she steals Soarynn away from you."
Coriolanus lets out a small gasp at the accusation that is very true and shakes his head, "I simply think it's terribly rude to have an animal roaming around while we eat dinner and have company over," he explains although he only gets eye rolls in return.
Petunia who needs all attention on her at all times swipes her paw in Clemensia's direction and is immediately rewarded with kisses and scratches from all the women who fawn over her like she's a child.
Well, since there's no immediate threat Coriolanus sees no need to waste any more time on the cat. He shoots the feline one last look before turning on his heel and walking back to his study.
That cat, is going to be the death of him.
꧁ ꧂
Coriolanus blows all the air out of his lungs as he settles into the bathtub. There's nothing quite like a relaxing bath after a night with friends. He closes his eyes and rests his head back, tonight's events replaying in his mind. He doesn't get to think much because he can't shake the feeling that he's being watched.
Coriolanus sits up in the tub and glances around the room, no one is in the bathroom with him.
He hears a meow.
He looks directly below him to find Petunia sitting next to the tub, her ears perked up and her tail swishing in the air. She's practically stalking him. "Go away," he tells her, pointing at the bathroom doors that are slightly ajar. She blinks and does nothing. "Out Petunia," he says again, this time with more authority in his voice.
Petunia rolls onto her back, asking for belly rubs.
Coriolanus groans and rubs a hand over his face, all he wants to do is relax and go to bed. Why must she torture him? He must've known Petunia in a past life and done something horrible to her because that is the only way he can make sense of their constant agitation towards each other.
"Soarynn!" He calls, keeping an eye on the cat who has all four paws in the air, still waiting to be pet. "Soarynn darling, I need help, I'm in terrible danger." Soarynn is pushing open the doors within seconds, her eyes wide as she searches for the danger. Once she sees Petunia all her worries melt away and she relaxes, "Oh, Petunia, you need to leave Coryo alone." Coriolanus nods, "For the rest of my life in fact," he adds on which earns him a glare from Soarynn who crouches down and opens up her arms, "Come here darling."
It's somewhat sweet how Petunia rolls to her feet and runs into Soarynn's arms, both of them absolutely infatuated with each other. "She's set on terrorizing me," he tells Soarynn who rolls her eyes, "I wouldn't be surprised if she ate through another pair of my socks."
There was nothing quite like your big toe going right through your sock as you got ready for the day. Coriolanus immediately found the culprit who wore the most innocent look on her face. But like always, Soarynn came to her rescue.
"I think you're being a little bit dramatic," Soarynn says, "she just wants to be around you Coryo, that's all." He's not too convinced but he nods because it'll get Soarynn to leave and take the cat with her.
Once she does he relaxes, but not too much, Petunia might make a second attempt at ruining his bath.
꧁ ꧂
It's damn near ironic how Petunia looks so peaceful curled up at the foot of their bed.
Coriolanus watches her small body take little breaths in and out, today must have been exhausting for her, annoying him and inconveniencing him. She was on a roll today.
Soarynn slips into bed next to him and pulls him away from thinking about the cat. The second her soft hands cup his face he relaxes and feels as if nothing else in the world matters but her. "I do hope I didn't upset you tonight," she says softly and Coriolanus shakes his head, gently grabbing her wrists, "You couldn't. Couldn't upset me if you tried darling." Although Petunia certainly could.
Soarynn looks down at the small cat and smiles, "I know you two don't always see eye to eye, but she loves you Coryo, I've seen it before. She adores you and simply wants to spend more time with you." Coriolanus highly doubts that but he smiles and presses a kiss to Soarynn's cheek, "I believe you."
It doesn't take much longer for Soarynn to drift off in his arms, safe and sound. Coriolanus can feel himself finally giving into sleep as well and turns off the bedside lamp next to him before finally closing his eyes.
A moment later, he feels a small weight sink into his pillow above his head. Coriolanus opens his eyes and cranes his neck to see Petunia curled up above him, already asleep. He looks back down at Soarynn who is also curled up and he smiles, perhaps he ought to count himself lucky to have these two ladies in his life.
Even if one is an absolute diva.
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screampied · 4 months
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JAILBREAK. — SUGURU GETO. ☆
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synopsis. you hate your job as a part time correctional officer. things change once you have to “babysit” one of the dangerous criminals of the a-block floor, suguru geto. but girl, maybe sleeping with an egotistical cocky ass inmate might have been your biggest mistake yet.
wc. 5.5k
warnings. modern au, fem!reader, pwp, inmate geto, corruption kink, degradation, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, geto has a tongue piercing, hair pulling, praise, overstim, reader’s kinda delulu
an. thank uuu @osaemu for beta readin someee!! inmate geto is my new hyperfixation omge
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it was as if each shift became longer and longer, your daily occupation, nothing special, nothing fancy, just a correctional officer at some high maintenance prison near the city.
the stench of musk and sweat wafted around you, such a reoccurrence that it was practically normal. it was around midnight, as how most of your shifts were, and as you trod towards the secluded darkened space for only the inmates dangerous to themselves and others, you intake a breath before swiping your key near your hip, preparing to unlock the glass-like metal steel door.
“oh,” you close the door behind you, and that familiar deep voice does something to you.
what…?
you don’t know, but it had such bass in it, you turned to face the inmate, no one other than suguru geto. “…yo,” he mocks, giving you a sly head nod, his eyes scan up and down your body, your uniform and then your own meets his pursed lips. somehow, he managed to find a cigarette. again. “hmpf. they got the newbie watchin' me again? you do know that gun on your hip isn’t a toy, right?”
your eyebrows twitch, and your facial expressions formed into a deadpan as you walked towards him with his daily meal in hand. “yeah and i’m not afraid to use it on you if necessary.”
“ooh. rookie’s got jokes, that’s cute.” he grins.
you murmured, and he only smiles, he knows you didn’t mean that, he pissed you off, even if he wasn’t saying anything exactly. pulling out your staff notepad checklist of where you usually kept track of all the inmates attendance and meals, you uttered, “but anyways…” you blowed, “no one fed you today, suguru. you must be starving.”
“yeah, 'm starvin’ ‘n more ways than you can imagine, princess,” geto hums, and you suddenly freeze once the inmate stands up firm and tall. he’s just so damn big—broad wide shoulders, long slight shaggy dark toned hair, and with a split-second gaze, you look near geto’s orange jumpsuit. the bulge, yeah you spotted that immediately, but his tattoos…
his fucking tattoos.
“can you at least try to behave for a few minutes.” you sighed, and he's already getting on your last nerve. he could tell too…and damn was he was just getting nothing but pure amusement from your sheer irritation.
“eh, depends,” he speaks in a low gruff, his attention was on you and only you, raising his darkened thin arched brows before his lips converge into a witty smirk. “ya gonna feed me my food, babe? oh, you should know. poor inmate like me can’t feed myself when i’m all,” and he pauses while speaking, placing his hands in his lap — giving his wrists a slight shimmy and you hear the metal dance against his skin. “…handcuffed.”
it took everything within you to not smack this arrogant suave bastard, geto flirted with you whatever chance he got, with no shame either. you’re a pretty girl, well mannered, yet never took anyone’s shit, he liked that about you.
your job wasn’t to be taken lightly, it could be considered scary at times with the various inmates you have to deal on a day to day basis, but simply, you were just a girl with an attitude. but he wasn’t fond of brats, especially brats like you.
“…fine,” you mumbled, making your way towards him. he sat on the steel uncomfortable bed that was as usual, never made. geto practically lived in solitary confinement, they don’t call him the suguru geto for a reason. his name was known amongst many, he was feared worldwide. geto wasn’t exactly a good guy, far from it actually.
he’s a criminal and his record was… definitely spine chilling to say the least. “don’t try anything, just open your mouth.”
“hm, alright then.” he happily complies, his demeanor changes just a bit, and he’s more playful. geto opens his mouth just slightly and you spot tiny dimples form near the corners of his lips, and you gradually stick the spoon into his mouth, feeding him whatever food was made for the inmates of the night.
baked mash potatoes, geto stated it was one of his favorites and you just so happened to remember. a smile forms on his lips as you feed him. your eyes darted towards him, and now he’s just staring intimately at you.
that smirk that forever rested against his pink thinly parted lips.
“m-mhm.” he grunts, and your eyes widen just a bit, he was messing with you, and you don’t even realize geto’s got his hand gripped on your waist. stroking a thumb against your belt, you felt the feeling of him rubbing all against the firearm that was strapped tightly on you.
before you could smack his hand, geto swiftly brings you on top of his lap, stealing out a gasp from you at how quick he was with his movements. the silver spoon sticks out his mouth before you take it out, only to return him with an irritated glare.
“what do you think you’re doing?” you uttered, growing quite embarrassed yet trying to maintain a level-head.
“told ya,” he grumbles, swiping a tongue against the excess mash potatoes that remained near his lips. “i’m hungry, babe. that was good, but i’m not satisfied. i need more.”
“inmates in solitary confinement aren’t allowed to have seco—”
“pretty girl, you know what i’m talkin’ about,” geto chuckles, and you shiver a bit from feeling the soft pads of his thumb brush against the belt of your waist again. you were in uniform but this entire position was so dirty. not to mention, it’s not like this place of the prison was exactly secluded. it was, but there was bound to be people were walking by. “i’ve been seein’ the way you stare at me.”
he was just infuriating, but you didn’t know how to reply so…you didn’t. you just sat there on the inmate’s lap, with a quite dumb expression and he’s just eating it up. “geto—”
“it’s just you ‘n me, girl,” he slyly whispers, and his voice drops just a bit as he stops you from speaking. his touch against your waist just gave you more and more goosebumps. all the way up until you felt it. geto infamous boner that hid beneath his jumpsuit. he’s been incarcerated for at least three years now, in and out. he was for sure horny. you could just tell from his seductive gaze. “don’t gotta be shy. was waiting for you to show up if ‘m being honest. you’re not like the rest, y’know?”
that’s when you gasp, realizing his handcuffs were off — he must have took the key from your pocket, because he was just feeling you up now. you let off a surprised noise once you felt geto starting to make you grind against his lap, feeling his hefty bulge.
“sugu-” you mumbled, and he’s just staring at you with a sly grin pressing onto his lips, only before he leans directly up close to your neck, giving a part near your collarbone a soft deep suck.
you whine from feeling the near sharp edges of his teeth lightly dig into your skin, playfully.
“mhm, pretty thing like you isn’t fit to be workin’ here. cutesy little prison guard,” he sung, his warm breath wafts against your skin, “crushin’ on your inmates is real unprofessional, ya know. you could get fired.”
he was right, you could get fired. and perhaps he wasn’t lying about the second part too—you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t find suguru geto the slightest bit of attractive. because he was, he and you both knew it.
“don’t be stupid. i’m not crushing on you,” you denied, yet embarrassingly enough, your eyes widen at feeling geto air your words — his thick stubby fingers, two of them specifically runs down between your legs and you gasp again. “are you…crazy? there could be cameras in here.”
“so.”
“so? you’re trying to get me fired?” you raised your eyebrows, sitting up from his lap, and he’s playing with you entirely. stroking a rough scarred hand down your back. if it was any other inmate, you’d barely give them a second glance.
geto gives you direct eye contact, and he looks so handsome and lean back, but his messy long black strands of bangs nearly covers his eyes, making him appear to be ten times more feared.
“maybe,” then he chuckles. “it’s okay, if it makes ya feel any better. i fantasized about you at least once or twice while being secluded from the other inmates in this hellhole. i prefer you over the other annoying officers who’re always givin’ me shit.”
you were about to speak but suddenly you couldn’t—you realized how close you were to geto, propped up on his lap, propped up on his bulge. were you really throbbing right now? oh you definitely were.
pulsing, itching, aching.
“soooo, when was the last time you got laid?”
this guy.
“excuse me?” you stammer, entirely being taken aback. such smug fell off his tone, he cocked his head a certain way to let you know he was being genuine. in his own way, of course.
geto’s always been one to flirt with you whenever it was your shift to supervise him. his comments were always so bold. he’d purposely pitch his tone a bit low whenever he spoke to you, no one else. perhaps it was the incarcerated felon crushing on you.
“you heard me,” he mutters, giving you a sly glance. he ghosts a few fingers against your waist. you still don’t know why you’re happily sitting on his lap, but you were comfortable to say the least. “with your long hours i pretty much figure you don’t even have time to finger yourself, let alone get laid. poor baby.”
“…just shut up.” you chastised, his soothing warm words, the way he delivered those last two words as a form of mockery. it made you throb, you pinched yourself, feeling yourself grow out to be hot. 
“make me, girl.” he faked a pout on his lips, almost as if his speech was purposely dumbing you down, solely from the tone. geto teasingly cocks his head towards the right and a teeny smile stretched against his lips. 
and you did. 
he was just poking fun at you—you loathed it, the tension between you and geto, his expressions were relaxed and smug like you won’t do anything. 
so, what did you do? 
you silenced him…with a kiss. 
he’s taken aback, you’re taken aback, you don’t know what came over you but you just couldn’t stand him talking. 
his sly grin, you desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. geto leans back against his bunk. his breath gets caught in his throat with the way you initiated the lustful kiss, parting your mouth open just a bit. 
you can feel geto reaching for the firearm near your hip but with quick reflexes you smack his hand, and he chuckles, pulling you closer towards him. 
he tasted sweet, with a tang of spice. leaning his head forward, he felt your warm breath shudder against him which makes him let off a low grunt once he feels you start to rock against his lap.
geto didn’t expect for you to trail a finger down his jumpsuit. the soft nearly wrinkled fabric, unbuttoning it and he shudders at how you’re all frisky and bold. 
“easy now officer,” he whispers before pulling away, lips pink and glistening with a bit of spit. his voice was a mere rasp and it made you throb. “when i said make me, that’s not what i meant,” and then he smiles, tugging on your work pants. “but you’re something else. take off those pants, i’ve been meaning to show you something.”
geto wanted to show you his tongue, specifically his tongue piercing. not necessarily show you but make you feel it. 
when you kissed him, you felt it tickle against you. the tasteless titanium rubbing against your tongue. it left you all hot and bothered. 
he had you currently laid flat on your back, an entire needy mess, despite it only being a few minutes. how embarrassing…
it was just the way he curled his tongue, flicking it against your pussy, he’s sloppy. two big hands squeeze and grip against your inner thighs, long strands prickling against your legs as he swirled his tongue against your slit. 
“f-fuck,” you’d gasp out, tilting your neck down to stare at geto. he’s already returning your eyes with a coltish glance, puckering his lips briefly to create kissed everywhere between your legs. your hands rummaged through his long silk hair. giving it a firm tug, that earns a low grunt from geto that makes you pulse even more. “tickles, suguru.”
“does it?” he purrs in a cheeky tone, slowly flicking his tongue against your clit—you jounce, a gasp gets caught in your throat at the way the piercing shifts against your folds. the slight coldness of it makes your thighs ache for more “mhm. can’t get enough.”
you pant, tugging and gripping roughly on his hair, geto’s nose deep, his tongue was so greedy. it was just the way he grazed and moved his tongue against your labia. your two sweet flaps, you grew more whiny by the second. 
“s-suguru,” you’d squeak, biting down on your lip. you knew how wrong this was, so why did it turn you on even more? “think…think ‘m getting close.”
“yeah yeah, keep your legs open.” he cuts you off, and you stare down at him. he’s so nasty with his tongue, taking a brief second to spit right on your cunt, dragging a thumb between your slit. “do you get wet like this for all your other inmates?”
you stared down at him, feeling yourself grow more and more aroused by the second—your response was just giving him a subtle head shake. “no, just you.”
“just me?” he repeats, lowering his voice and it’s so attractive. “maybe you really are crushin’ on me.”
“shut up..” you hissed. your breathing started to become more and more erratic, your ears rang and you pulsed from how close you were starting to approach towards your orgasm. 
geto’s entire chin was polished with your sweet slick—covered in nothing but all of it. such a messy eater, each time you tug on his long strands of hair. his husky pitched groans continued to make you pulse.
his piercing slowly lapped against your cunt, and you gasped at the feeling of him inserting a finger inside slowly. 
“ooh, ‘s close isn’t it?” he teases, peppering kisses near your thighs now, nibbling on it playfully with his teeth. “you gonna make a mess for me? slutty prison guard?” 
“y-yes.” you squirmed, your hands idly dragging him closer against your pussy. he chuckles, his technique snatching your breath away quite literally. “suguru… gonna come. wanna cum.”
he lays his tongue flat, lapping and lapping against your clit, giving it a long sweet suck to where his mouth starts watering from the taste and you moan. “ask nicer. where’s your manners huh?”
“p-please,” you whined, growing frustrated, so pent up—your walls clenched around the two fingers he now had buried deep into your cunt. you whimper from the mere stimulation, the way he toys with your g-spot with his lengthy slender fingers had you throbbing pathetically. “let me cum please, s-suguru.”
“oh but i don’t know,” the inmate teases, using his free hand to pry open your thighs a bit more. the cute pout that spread across your lips at his words was so adorable, “aw poor baby,” he hums, playfully blowing against your pussy to watch you writhe in pleasure and utter desperation. “you’re so cute when you’re desperate.”
“suguru, please, please..” you whimpered, not even caring how you sounded. your sweet voice reverberated against the walls of the secluded kept room, own words coiling at your throat. 
he smiles. “how about this,” and for a terse moment…he stares right at you. with his tongue going over his lips, savoring your taste. “i let you cum, you promise to get me out of here.”
….
help him break out? 
all this so you could orgasm….
you swallowed, chest heaving and your legs felt nearly nonexistent. geto looked serious though, brushing a thumb against your sloppy clit. he awaited your answer and you were deep in pondering thought.
you’d for sure get fired, then again you did hate your job. 
the fact that you were even contemplating letting an inmate break out just to cum. you just wanted a release so bad, the way his tongue lapped against your pussy, the smooth texture of it flicking back and forth to where your toes curl. you wanted more, and maybe it was a bit concerning that you started to not even care about your profession anymore. 
“promise..”
“oh..?” he slyly remarks, for sure you were gonna at least deny or call him crazy, but a straight answer. he was amused—and the needy look on his face was all he needed to see. “hm, it’s a deal then. go ahead ‘n cum, pretty girl.”
your back arched in ecstasy, he’s holding onto your hips departing his fingers from inside you, and just his tongue’s doing the main finish. you shuddered as you felt yourself vibrate and twitch. the build up had you clenching around nothing but air. “f-fuck…” 
scorching, your body radiated and carried so much heat around it, your eyes started to roll and roll towards the very depths of your head. once you came, you slump back against the rickety mattress, one hand still firmly maintaining its grip on geto’s hair. 
“there there, ‘s okay,” he slyly purrs, making sure to clean you with his tongue. for a split second his eyes close, and geto brings a few kisses against your folds before sitting up to stare down at you. “c’mere.”
you sit up, giving geto a cute needful glance, you craved more and he knew that. you leaned in to kiss him, and he returns it with such filthy passion. geto’s handsy, his slick-smeared lips ghost against yours before he deepens it. a groan gets caught in his throat, and you whine once you feel him lay you down on your back.
he leans up against you and eagerly, you give the orange fabric pants of his jumpsuit a cute tug, a sign for him to take it off. 
“such an impatient little thing,” he murmurs right into your mouth. you whined, wanting him to keep kissing you but he keeps breaking away purposely, watching your lips quiver in desire. “how bad do you want me?”
“s-suguru.” you pouted, your hand finding its way towards his bulge. the strain in his pants, all because of you. 
“don’t ‘suguru’ me,” he rasps in a mocking tone, his body pressed against yours. and only then did you realize the size difference, how buff and well toned geto was. he was an inmate after all, he always had a consistent workout schedule. geto’s dark eyes stare into yours before he brushes a thumb against your glossed lips. “talk to me nice in that pretty voice of yours. you want me? say it then.”
the disappointed pout you had displayed on your lips remained there as you spoke, only to hear how whiney and desperate you were. 
“i want you suguru, please.” you sigh. 
“girl…you’re so unprofessional,” he snickers, a swift snicker leaves from his lips before you hear him shuffle in his suit. pulling down his matched set pants, he tugs near the edge and it goes down. “feel how hard you make me, officer.”
and you let out a soft gasp. 
geto lightly grabs you by the neck, and you let off a needy moan once he starts to rub your face against his boxers. the very imprint of his bulge. “all your fault. got me throbbin’ for you...”
“suguru,” you whined, a small pout spreading on your lips each second he continued to tease you. “suguru, s-stop teasing me.”
“just jokin’,” you plop down on your chest, the moment he lightly shoves you forward against the plush-cushioned bed frame. it creaked from the movements, quite rickety. “oh wow,” he utters in a low voice — quickly averting his eyes towards your work pants, briefly pulling them down to come full-view of your ass. “do correctional officers just…not wear panties or…?”
you let off a moan, feeling him skim a few fingers against your ass, holding back a noise once he presses the leaky fat tip of his cock against your throbbing entrance. 
“i…i forgot.” you whined, mouth watering — you wanted more than anything for him to be inside already. “i was rushing.”
“uh huh,” geto rolls his eyes, and you stared directly at him. the plump fat head of his swiped against your wet folds, a few taps and you were about to go crazy. “ooh. look at you trying to rush me.” 
he was such a tease, you could hear the playfulness in his tone. as geto hovered over you, he took a few moments before slowly easing his way inside you. 
his jaw clenches, and it’s sexy…
the way his muscles would tense all because of you. you were panting, legs just dumbly sprawled out. maybe it was unprofessional, participating in sexual activities with an inmate—yet, you just couldn’t help yourself. all the built up tension surrounding between the two of you. perhaps it was bound to happen. 
“fuck, ‘s warm..” he grunts, and he’s just barely halfway in. you chewed near the inside of your lip, nails clawing down his buff arms and he starts to pant himself. geto was huge. emphasis on huge. 
his happy trail was mesmerizing to look at, the way he had slightly black curly hair coating near the lower half of himself. it was well trimmed, yet much visible to see. the more he gently makes his way inside your cunt, you felt every mean inch. the curve geto had—it was hefty, you felt yourself starting to drool. 
a single vein throbbed, and you felt it. geto bites his tongue marginally. and once he’s fully in, he gives you a coy expression. 
“may i move, officer?” he snickers. 
“p-please.” you whimpered. 
“okay.” he hums, and the bass to his voice was just enough to get you wet. far wetter than you already were. such smoothness dripped from it, it was a deep pitch that always made your heart flutter and sink. 
once he starts up just a single thrust, your body jolts back and you gasp—finding your arms to suddenly grab onto him. 
geto chuckles. “dramatic thing, aren’t you.” you moaned, nails continuing to drag down how skin as you’re laid flat against your back. the angle was so deep and thorough, each hit against your pussy had your kind spasming. in an entire frenzy of you will. 
he leans in to pepper kisses all over your face, strands of his hair that was out tickled against your skin. by this point, he’s buried deep. your head goes back a bit and…oh, that same curve that he had, it continuously made an appearance. 
geto was buried between your legs, hefty sack just thwacking against you. your legs were perfectly bent, shoulder width apart. “f-fuck,” you’d stammer, suddenly clamping all around him. it took a few deep vigorous thrusts, but at this point he’s got your pussy memorizing his lengths size. geto spreads his knees for a more thorough base, his movements were so sloppy you could barely think straight. let alone process anything. “suguru, ‘s right there.”
“right there what?” he teases, leaning in to nibble near the bottom of your lip. the thin fabric of his jumpsuit brushes against your skin—you were just a mess. pulse after pulse, you wouldn’t be surprised if your brain was short circuiting. “i can’t hear ya when you mumble, baby.”
“fucking-” you spat, and he chuckles once you’re cut off with a deep kiss. geto vary’s his stance against you, and slides his tongue all throughout your mouth. it’s a rough and passionate kiss—so much so to where, he has you catching his breath. once you pull away, you moan, being brought back to reality from his ruthless smacks he’s making with his dick. “keep…keep hitting me there.”
he hums, giving your bottom lip a slow playful bite again, still ramming his hips against you at such a filthy pace. “is that an order?”
he was so annoying, that two second glance he’d give you—a smirk pressing against his lips, he definitely knew how to get under your skin. “please,” you corrected yourself, nails still running down his back. it pierced against his skin, earning a low husky grunt from him. “keep hitting me in that s-spot, suguru.”
“since ya asked so nicely,” he purrs, sneaking another kiss. this time near the very corner of your mouth. the taste was just glacé, sweet and all. simply divine.
you moaned into his mouth, and as his body weight pressed against yours — you shivered. he’s such a tease, geto starts to lightly ghost your cell keys against your bare tummy. your back arched immediately, the coldness of it just grazing against your skin. “you’re so sensitive.”
his soft, teasing words rang throughout your ears, and as you clung onto him—you felt yourself coming closer and closer. he gripped onto your legs, slightly raising them upward and you moan from the deep deep angled. “o-oh my god.” 
geto’s shallow mean strokes had your eyes rolling all the way back….way back to the very depths of your skull. if you weren’t drooling then, you certainly were now.
the moment he sees you pouting from how he cockily starts to slow down—geto pushes a bit more deeper, grinning from your legs now locking around his waist. 
moments later though, you both freeze at hearing the sound of footsteps approaching near the solitary steel door. 
right when you about to orgasm, you both stare at each other — and it’s another officer. you could tell by the loud echo of the keys dangling against their hips. 
“officer, you alright? been in there a while. we’re finishing up roll call then it’s time for the inmates to sleep.”
shit. 
you couldn’t stay quiet, that’d be suspicious, and you knew you had to say something. geto chuckles, still buried balls deep inside of you, leaning in to give your neck a long suck. your hands ran through his hair and you bit your lip, trying to muster up what to say. 
“your subordinate’s talking to you,” geto teases, and you gasp from how he suddenly pistons his hips, such sloppy ruthless thrusts your breath was merely taken away. “don’t be a rude girl.”
“s-shut up,” you whined, putting a hand in his face and he playfully kisses it. you stop a moan from escaping your lips before you project your voice lightly. “uh, yeah. everything’s good. inmate suguru geto’s asleep. i’m just—just finishing up then i’ll take care of his dishes.”
“alright,” the lower rank replies, and your legs start to shake and jostle against geto. he’s staring at you, just wanting for you to slip up. a few awkward seconds pass before the officer continues to speak. “are we still on for tonight?”
you gulped, and geto raises his brows before whispering into your neck. “…oh, tonight, yeah?”
by all means, you felt so embarrassed, heat rises up to your cheeks as if your entire body wasn’t already burning up from his weight pressing down against you.
you ended up cumming mid-convo, and had to cover your mouth to not be so noisy. you clenched all around geto, just a twitching and spasming mess. 
“y-yeah, we are.”
“good, good,” he speaks through the other end of the closed steel door. poor officer, he sounds so ecstatic, a bit of confidence running through his tone. “i’ll see you then, pumpkin.”
geto blurted out laughing and you had to slap a hand against his mouth. the moment the coast is clear and he walks away, you glare and he simpers. 
“pumpkin,” he repeats, mimicking your co-workers accent. “i didn’t know you had plans. have me looking like a fool, hmpf.”
“my private life isn’t your busin—” and you get cut off once geto abruptly sits you upright, to where you’re just straddling him. you moan, your cunt still being stuffed full of his thick inches — and for a moment, you felt his vein prod against you. 
geto groans, seeing how your pupils were all dilated from your recent release. “yeahhh, it isn’t,” he says, grabbing ahold of your waist. you’re rocking back and forth and he’s so thick that you’re just completely cockdrunk and dizzy. “but ‘m having too much fun with you.”
you gasp once you feel the back of geto’s hand roughly smack your ass again, and again, and again. he loves the recoil — you hiss from the sting as your hips roll and maneuver against his lap. “you’re such a dirty girl. i don’t want you to go on that date. stay with me.”
“y-you can’t be serious.” you muttered, arms thrown over his neck. and for a brief moment, it was almost as if you heard a faint of jealously lingering on his tone. it made you throb, this high and mighty notorious inmate feeling this way…for a nobody like you. 
“dead serious, baby,” he utters, and you can sense geto’s close too from the way his jaw tightens. his head tilts back and he bites down on his lip. “that way i won’t be less lonely. talking to the wall ‘n everything.”
oh right, he was in solitary confinement. purposely secluded from the other guards and inmates. geto was considered a danger, yet here you were — stupidly bouncing on his dick. 
“but ‘m not so lonely now that you’re here,” he coos against your ear, and you whimper once he drags a hand down between your legs. he gives your pussy a few mean spanks and you whimpered. “fuck, keep moaning in my ear like that ‘n i’m gonna give you so much of my cum.”
“i need it.” you pleaded, tears swelling up in your eyes, you genuinely didn’t know what got over you — your body was so achy, each time he traced his fingers down your body, you whined. you didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to be filled. 
geto groans, and his hefty base kept smacking back against you, your hips jerked as you tightly held onto him, marking up the very inner part of his neck with soft bite marks. 
“f-fine,” he grumbles, and his voice gets a bit high, he’s growing out to be sensitive from the pressure building up. he even gets a tad bit whiney himself. the constant skin smacking makes him kiss his teeth, and his head throws back yet again—long pretty hair flowing against his shoulders. “god, you’re so fuckin’ nasty. riding me this g-good.”
you even start to tug on his hair, and that makes him moan even more. not like he minded. it turned him on, needless to say. 
once geto came, it was thick, so much that it instantly spilled out of your cunt. you paused your hips, and he silenced his groans by grunting against your neck. he’s shaking just as much as you were — and it came out in velvety ropes, spurting and spurting. 
“take it all,” he hisses, gripping onto your waist tightly. you whimper, grinding against him just for a few seconds and he’s for once speechless. “damn, those hips of yours is so deadly, fuck.”
you whined, sitting up and he pulls out of you, watching his own cum spill and drip out. geto brings a thumb towards your clit to smear it all over your pussy, an image that was a something he’d never erase from his mind. 
you panted, hitting your back against his bunk while geto leans in to kiss you deeply. you kissed back, dragging your tongue against his, feeling his warm breath fan against yours before he pulls away with a weary expression. 
“good girl,” he murmurs, peppering a soft kiss near the side of your mouth. “remember my promise?” 
“yeah.” you exhale, trying to catch your breath. your legs felt like jello — head clouded and entirely empty, not a single thought in your mind. 
he smiles. “good. because i forgot to tell ya something else,” and you stare at him, a soft confused head tilt, watching him re-adjust his jumpsuit, pulling his boxers and pants part up. “have fun being in solitary by yourself.”
“wait w-what?” you stammer, and reaches the door, your own keys in hand — and you couldn’t have felt anymore stupid. geto chuckles, with a sly shrug. “princess, you were so gullible. letting me take your keys,” and he unlocks the huge latch before grinning. “but hey, don’t feel too bad. you have a date tonight.”
you glare, overwhelmed with emotions before spitting out a, “fuck you.”
“you literally just did,” he wriggles his eyebrows. “don’t worry. i’ll come back for you,” and then he opens the steel door.
yet before slamming it, he gives you a wink and that same sly grin. “nah i’m just kidding, no i won’t. sorry.”
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targaryenluvs · 6 months
Text
DELICATE
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pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader
warnings: erm we’re back at it with another dark corio! possessiveness, literal murder, threats, vulgarity, nc touching -dumbification/babying, emotional manipulation and vulnerability, sexual undertones and thoughts, ownership?? NOT PROOFREAD
summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?
word count: 2.09k words
a/n: i swear i can only think of dark ideas for him because he is practically crayz - i loved this concept tho so enjoyyyy - annoyed i can’t find any post-lucy gifs snd i’ve already used the other one help me plz
taglist: @sleepydang @aspieundercover @darktrashsoulbear @3lliesrifle @rafeysbafey @zejjef @themorriganisamonster @cryfordemie @winterblu2 @earthangel-111 @taylarxse @alexameliamg @katastrophic04 @jjggdfvvy @joshwifeyslaymamaballs @10ava01 @kis9na @princessdaella @princessloveweird @prettybiching @justacaliforniandreamer @bxtchopolis @witchafterz @har-rison-s
PART TWO
coriolanus wanted nothing more than a relaxing night. he’d been at a campaign meeting for about four hours and he’d gotten absolutely nothing out of it.
he was in the right mind to fire them all and work it himself but he knew he couldn’t. all he wanted was to go home, have a bath drawn for him, eat dinner with you and go to sleep.
coriolanus had seen a number of weird things in his life but nothing was weirder than seeing you, hanging up the laundry to dry. you’d stopped him in his tracks but hadn’t yet noticed his presence as you hummed to yourself and went about your business. after staring in confusion for a few minutes he cleared his throat, “y/n. what are you doing?” you turned towards him with a smile, “it’s christmas! so i sent the staff home for the rest of the day so they could be with their families. don’t worry i had them prepare your bath, dinner and everything else. there were some things left to do so i thought, why not do them myself? i cleaned my room and yours, ironed the previous batch of laundry and placed them away, dusted the library and i was hanging up the laundry until you showed!” you beamed as you continued to hang the clothing.
coriolanus took a seat on one of the lawn chairs as you continued. he decided to watch you, to make sure you were okay. because who on earth wants to do laundry? that was the very reason you had so many servants. but here you were.
“you can head inside corio, no need to wait for me!” you said sweetly. coriolanus was a strong man, always rational. but god when you spoke so sweetly to him- no. “there’s no need, i’ll wait till you’re done.”
the sun was hanging low as the last rays illuminated the dining room. you’d set out candles, flowers and other pieces on the table. back home you loved setting the table, until your father would reprimand you for doing something you didn’t need to. what will people say if my daughter is acting as a servant?
but right now you felt at ease.
you had a good life. good friends which were rare to find in the capitol. good family and a good husband. he was proper, took care of you in every way, even if he didn’t love you, you were grateful to be married to someone you liked. admired. you’d heard whispers of corio’s childhood, his depleted resources and poor upbringing. but you couldn’t care less. he was more of a man than anyone you knew. and he was extremely pretty, your parents would’ve probably married you off to whomever they thought would help with social standings so this match? a lifeline.
coriolanus kept himself in check. he was up for presidency, his name and wealth restored and he was respected and feared. you were a diamond in the rough. whilst all the other girls in the capitol were, special, to say the least, you weren’t like them. first of all, he could tolerate you. like you even. you were exceptionally smart, well-read and spoken, respectful of those worthy but even those beneath you. you were kind, not the fake kind of the capitol. kind to everyone, helping everyone however you could.
and to him it was more than perfect. someone kind would be easy to have, easy to be married to. he knew from the second he saw you as marriage material that you’d never endanger those around you. you cared, enough to put your happiness to the back of the line. you’d be easy to control. after the wedding he expected you to be clingy, desperate for his love and affection. as any girl would from their husband, but you kept your distance. you didn’t push yourself on him, you did your duty. you did what was required and more. but you always listened, listened to him.
so he assumed you’d be easy to be married to, but he was always in awe of you. your sweet smiles every time you passed eachother in the halls, in the morning at breakfast and at night for dinner. always catering to him.
“what should i wear?” “you can choose.” “you tell me.” “it’s your choice.” and god did it inflate his ego. you were always asking about him, how his day was, what he did, who he saw etc. but it wasn’t just small talk, you were always listening. absorbing his words like a sponge, wide eyes, head nodding along dumbly. he loved it. and over the year he found himself, caring, on the inside at least.
every time you’d go out there were hungry eyes consuming you. your face, body everything. and he wanted to personally pluck out each eyeball and feed it to their families. so again, overtime, he’d shield you, protect you. his sweet wife who knew nothing of what the others wanted to do to her. a hand on your back, an arm around your waist, a peck on your forehead and his large red coat around you. all for show right?
he wanted to puke.
the smell of cabbage wafted to his nose and he was oh so close to putting this fist through the wall. who on earth-
you were humming, again. “corio!” your voice was music to his ears, corio, no one said it to him anymore. not even tigris. but he only liked, only wanted it to come from you. “dinner is served, some of your favourites are here. i asked tigris what you use to eat as a kid. ooh, you never told me you liked cabbage, me too! guess that’s another thing we have in common.” you beamed as you walked over with a bottle of wine, “tell me when to stop.”
he eyed you up the entire time. trying to catch a fleck of disgust whilst you ate, andddd, nothing. you weren’t lying, you actually liked it. he swallowed his own fear and began to eat.
“mm, i was wondering what you wanted me to wear tonight? i’d like to match corio, if that’s okay with you.” corio smiled slightly, “i would like to match. i have something i would like you to wear tonight sweetheart.” your eyes darted forwards as the word fell, sweetheart.
you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face, he only used terms like that in public. and based on his reaction afterwards, of which there was none, it meant that he probably didn’t even realise. or he did, you could never read him.
the red dress did things to coriolanus. the idea of you in it has his head spinning, but to actually see you in it? he wanted to throw you onto his bed and never let you out.
but to you it looked as if he was studying the dress rather than looking at you in it. “you look good.” you grinned, “thank you corio! i love your suit, you look very handsome.” you straightened his suit as he looked over your shoulder, your back was bare. “do you have a throw?” you quickly nodded and picked it up from the dresser. “good.” you already got a million stares in ordinary clothing, tonight was going to test his patience and anger.
the gala was gorgeous. for once there wasn’t ugly statues and weird color matches. a clean and pristine white hall, chandeliers, gold accents.
your heels clicked on the floor as coriolanus held his arm for you. “your hand please.” corio stared, waiting for your further explanation. “when we link arms your arm is too high for me. i end up with my arm at my neck.” you laughed as he lent his hand, which you gladly took.
stares and compliments at every corner of the room, everyone was looking at you two. the future president and first lady of panem. a match made in the capitol. you and coriolanus made the rounds, talking to present sponsors, potential sponsors and other candidates, much to coriolanus’s distaste. after a while you realised you were sort of just standing there, so you excused yourself for a drink and a closer view of the band.
“you look, ravishing.” charles operman. a sight which no one wanted to see, but to you he was just an ex-peer of the academy. “charles! thank you, corio picked it out for me.” you’d missed the way his jaw clenched at the mention of your husband, but you were to engrossed by the angelic singer and band. “you know, i always thought we’d end up together.”
the abruptness of his sentence had you choking on your drink, “excuse me, i’m married charles. i’m sorry if you thought that we would be together, i see you as a friend. i’d hate to lose a friend.” you smiled as he got uncomfortably closer and leaned into your ear, hand on your bare back.
coriolanus’s grip on his cup was tightening as he listened to lucky drone on and on. he wanted to see the life leave charles’s eyes, maybe his head would make as a nice present for you. “excuse me.” he nodded his head as he placed his cup on a passing waiters tray. you were helpless, and he was here to help you.
his breath was hot in your ear and you could smell the liquor on him as he was grabbed from you. “coriolanus, sir.” charles mocked salute as coriolanus stared at him, maybe he thought if he stared long enough hed burn into the floor. coriolanus rarely smiled, but this one was unsettling to say the least.
“if you ever put your hands on my wife, look at her, speak to her. it will be the last time you do so. i might just call in a favor with dr gaul, i hear your fond of snakes?” charles’s eyes widened, he hated snakes. he couldn’t even watch the 10th hunger games, the second he saw the snakes he ran to the bathroom and hurled.
“when i become president, you better keep yourself in line. it’d be horrible to see your family in the games no?” charles took a step back, “you can’t do that, i’m capitol.” coriolanus drew back,
“you won’t be for long.”
you couldn’t believe your eyes, of course he’d protect you but, threatening? he’d never do it right? the shutters of cameras had you reaching for corio, “can we leave my love?” coriolanus turned to you, “of course sweetheart.”
he’d stayed up for a long time. a smile came to his face when he remembered the sound of charles’s neck snapping. the door creaking open revealed a disheveled you, “corio? are you awake?” he sat up as you released a breath.
“what is it y/n?” you took a shy step forward, “i uhm, i can’t stop thinking about charles. he scared me, i didn’t know what to do corio. i-” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as coriolanus swiftly got out of bed, helping you into his bed. “i- can i sleep here tonight? please?”
this was definitely not how he first expected to have you in his bed, but how could he say no to you? your hair in its braid, messy and lose, puffy eyes and tear stained face. he wished he’d first seen you cry underneath him but he’d take what he could get. what he didn’t expect was for him to like this, the scene of you crying, needing him. he was the one who could help you, console you, coddle you.
coriolanus nodded as he moved back to the bed, tucking himself and you in softy, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead. god he’d held out for so long, denied himself and his feelings but having you in his arms was all he could ever want, but the idea of being in you flooded his head.
would you cry like this? would you shout and scream? did you like it soft and sweet? he couldn’t be soft and sweet, he’d savour the moment but he loved the idea of unravelling you, he’d be the only one to see you like this, him being the only one to make it happen.
you curled into his chest, like a baby. your soft cries and whimpers went straight to his crotch and soon enough you were asleep.
his sweetheart, his delicate little wife.
corios hand slipped downwards and into your pants, he promised himself he just wanted to feel but god you made it difficult. he saved you tonight, didn’t he deserve a reward? didn’t matter if you detested he had you where he liked. so he slowly rolled over and placed you on the bed.
your eyes fluttered at the change of placement but he couldn’t care less. he was done waiting.
you squirmed underneath him in your sleep but his worries faded away.
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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ what I know to be true ⋆。˚ ೀ⋆。˚ ༘
Childe wasn't a big fan of the Tsaritsa's demand for him to find a wife, until he'd come upon the perfect girl for the job. You—a lady he knew in his childhood to be a horrible nuisance and demon on Earth. Not only would this marriage fulfill his duty, but would let him settle a long-time grudge as well. Little did he know, he stood more to gain from this partnership than he thought.
Childe x fem!reader II arranged marriage, angst? to fluff, childhood enemies to lovers, romance!
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Childe was never one for romance, and especially not for commitment.
He just had so much else on his plate, much bigger dreams than that of settling down in a household and abandoning his place on the battlefield.
He was always looking ahead to a future of bloodshed, of power, of someday ruling the world.
That wasn't going to happen if a distraction stood in his way.
He would sometimes muse about having kids, loving the idea of continuing his lineage and watching a bunch of mini-me's run around, but ultimately, he decided his duty to the Tsaritsa would stand in the way of him being a good father. So he'd just have to settle for being an amazing uncle to the children his siblings would eventually have, spoiling them with presents at Christmas time and teaching them how to protect themselves out in the wild.
So when he was called into the Tsaritsa's throne room and received the news that a harbinger of his status was to be married, in order to keep up with regal airs the nobles of Snezhanaya, he was, respectfully, very unhappy.
"You'll be seen at balls and lead battalions. Your role must be carried with honor. Nobody will respect an old lonely man.", she claimed, then drew out a long, thin arm to hold his chin with a bony hand—long pointed nails pressing divots into his skin. Though her touch was frigid, she looked down at him with a certain fondness in her eyes, though the sincerity of it was undistinguishable. "You need a pretty thing by your side to elevate your status. You know I only want what's best for you.", she cooed, like she was addressing a child.
He new better than to disobey her commands, and something about the smoothness of her voice assured him that this was the right choice. He only nodded, though his fists clenched at his sides in dismay.
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Childe read over the listed names of eligible young ladies for him to marry with contempt; scrolling through the meaningless last names and accompanying statures, ordered from top to bottom by how highly they stood in the totem pole of nobility. Like he cared where the girl would come from.
He felt guilt for the miserable thing that would have to marry him; though he could care less about who these women were, he believed that they deserved a partner that loved them, or at least a good man that could stand to take care of them. All they would be to him is a nuisance, a label which they had done nothing to earn.
Though, when he neared the end of the list, a section devoted to common folk who had certain merits like striking beauty or some sort of fame, that he found a name he recognized.
Your name.
Oh, how he remembered you.
You were the daughter of good friends of his parents. Your families would often gather for holidays or dinner parties, sharing what little they had in the name of kinship. The gatherings were lively, full of happiness and cheer...
But you had a certain countenance that stood out to him and branded your name into a special part of his brain to be remembered for the rest of his life.
You were a little brat was what you were.
Though you were only a toddler when he met you, having only just taken your first steps while he was already halfway through being eight, he found you to be the most insufferable little human he'd ever met.
Your parents would always gab and brag about what a good little girl you were; how you never cried or screamed, how you were sweet and patient and loving—a wonderful surprise for parents preparing for the "terrible two's.".
They had to be lying, because every time Ajax would come into view you'd immediately throw a fit, wailing and swiping at his face with a kind of rage an entire army of men could not match.
He had no idea why; he never touched you, or spoke to you, all he did upon your first meeting was draw back in repulse.
You weren't a pleasure to look at; with your beady little eyes and thick eyelashes that lined them, your thin eyebrows and piercing gaze. You looked like some haunted porcelain doll. And there was a certain consciousness behind your eyes that children your age were not supposed to have.
His little siblings were much cuter.
And he did not hesitate to say that.
"Tonia was a prettier baby. What's wrong with her?", he piped up, humiliating his mother and father who immediately scolded him for his rudeness. Your mother only laughed.
"Trust me, she'll be a beauty when she grows up. I won't be surprised when you come around here in sixteen years asking to marry her."
This started a little musing session between your mothers, giggling about the possibility of their children being wed and how wonderful that would be for their friendship and their families.
Meanwhile, Ajax was dwelling on how that would absolutely never happen—if the look on your face was any indicator.
You were red as a tomato, nose scrunched in distain as your eyes pierced his. Like you'd understood him.
How was he supposed to know babies could take offense?
Whether or not your infant brain could comprehend his words, your hatred was clear, and before he could react, your soft little hand went flying towards his face and landed with a resounding THWAP!
Even though you struck him, you immediately burst into tears, bawling crocodile tears that ran down your face and dripped off of your chin.
All of the adults in the room immediately ran to your aid, hushing and petting you while scorning Ajax for "tormenting the poor girl."
Never before had he felt so cheated.
That begun his feud with a two year old.
Your detest for one another ran deep. So much so that every gathering between your families ended in you receiving plenty of sneaky pinches to your fat baby skin and him risking a bald spot with the amount of hair you'd rip out of his head.
It was a nightmare you could walk too, since you'd often seek him out just to babble in annoyance and tug at the knee of his trousers.
"See? Look at how much she likes you!", his mother would coo, but he knew better. Your grappling with his pants was your pea-brained strategy to get him to bend down and remove you so you could bop him one on the nose.
He swore you were such a strong baby. He'd rather take a hit from a club than suffer the force that your tiny fists could bring down on his head.
That's why you were the perfect girl to be his wife
If he were to marry any other woman, the guilt of leaving her alone at home for long stretches of time, depriving her of having the good husband she deserves rather than a man who could never love her, would be overwhelming.
Sure, he was a monster, but he wasn't about to let some innocent bystander be collateral damage.
But you? The evil, horrible little wench you are? You more than deserved it.
In his mind, he'd actually be doing his fellow man a favor by saving an unsuspecting bachelor from accidentally marrying a grisly thing like you.
So, although his retainers were already in the process of scheduling meetings with his potential brides, he plucked your name from the list without hesitation.
"Set the wedding date. I'll have that one."
The organizers looked between themselves warily, deciding whether or not they should challenge him on this monumental decision.
"And nothing too grand—it'll just be family.", he cooly added, leaning back in his chair to rest his feet upon his desk and crushing the list of names under his dirty boots.
In the end, the harbinger always gets what he wants, so his retainers retreated with quiet nods and quick steps.
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Though Childe acted aloof towards the decision to have you as his bride, when the day of the wedding actually arrived and he found himself standing at the altar of a small church in Mosepok—his home town, his palms were sweating and eyes darting around nervously. He shifted his weight on his feet as the congregation waited for you to enter; this was supposed to be a small ceremony, but leave it to his mother and father's proud announcements to their friends and neighbors to draw a crowd. As his eyes scanned the faces of those who'd known him in his youth, he realized near all of the small port town was packed into the pews. He wracked his brain for the answer as to why these people would want to watch their old town troublemaker's union, but he supposed it would be the most interesting thing to happen in the town since his era of delinquency.
It was a miracle that the budget the Fatui gave Childe for this wedding greatly superseded the amount he'd needed for the original plan of a small gathering; it was more than enough to feed the whole town for a night, which actually brought a flicker of joy to Childe's chest.
He was pleased that he could give back to the community that handled him like a family in his childhood.
But that flicker was immediately quenched when the creaking sound of the heavy oak doors that led into the chapel reverberated through the room—revealing the silhouette cast in white of his bride.
His stomach turned with anxiety. Childe had led battalions into what could be considered suicide missions if not for their miraculous victorious outcome, and yet, somehow, the fear he felt standing in front of a girl that, though she may not be small by definition, definitely looked so standing next to him, significantly surpassed that of which he's ever felt.
His cold body shook like he stood inches from death.
Suddenly, he remembered the fury your little body had when you were only a baby, and it dawned on him that you've only gotten bigger, smarter, stronger. A little arbiter of the apocalypse couldn't have grown into the meek woman he imagined, if anything, her bloodlust grew with age.
What did he get himself into? Was he an idiot? Did he, blinded by his scheming for revenge, land himself in a lion's den?
With a light tap on the shoulder from the priest, he jolted out of his stupor and found you standing in front of him already, suddenly remembering that he was now to lift your veil.
His hands shook as he reached out, bracing himself for the hideous face he'd been forced to associate with at every friendly gathering between your parents in childhood, and now, due to his own brashness, would have to associate with every time he returned home or attended public events.
He took a deep breath and shut his eyes as he took the fabric between his white-knuckled fingers and threw the thing up and over your head. The procession hummed with awe and approval—some more boisterous men from the docks whistling, to which their wives jabbed an elbow into their ribs.
The sounds of adoration resounding from the audience perplexed Childe, drawing his interest and encouraging him to open one wary eye and peek at you.
But his cautious peek grew into an owlish gawking and dropped jaw when the woman before him shined like an angel.
This couldn't have been the girl he knew in her infancy; her once-beady eyes now twinkled like stars, her red puffy face was now sculpted and the only remnants of her discoloration resided in dusted pink pigments on her cheeks. They were so perfectly placed that they could be mistaken for a painting by an artist with a keen eye. He pried his gaze from your enrapturing eyes to ogle your lips—plushy and inviting. He'd give anything to kiss a gorgeous woman like you.
And he remembered with an unexpected delight that he would by the end of this ceremony.
Before he knew it, the soft ring of your voice settled upon his ears. Having been caught in a trance, he hadn't realized the procession already arrived at your vows.
He only tuned in after the opening sentences of your declaration had passed, your words blurred by his reverie.
"I promise to wait for you when you go and embrace you when you return; to make a warm, solace of a home for you that you can always come back to, whether there be a roof over our heads or not. I promise to follow you through this life and meet you in the next, to be by your side when you need me, no matter how far apart we may be forced to exist. I promise to love you and only you, to be true as long as your ring encloses my finger, and promise to keep it there forever. I will take your family into my arms just as you will me, care for them—as they are an extension of you, to love them just as I do you. I'll hold you ever close to my heart, speak to you with nothing but kindness, recognize your face as that of my partner in life, my one and only, and..."
Childe jumped when he felt your warm hand sneak up on his and gingerly intertwine your fingers, to which he did not resist, nor want to.
"I promise to love you as you are; no matter how much the years we spend together may change us."
To his puzzlement, Childe felt a certain wetness roll down his cheek, causing him to look up at the skylight above the both of you to check if it was raining. When another droplet ran down the other side of his face, he realized he was crying.
Childe never cried, he couldn't even remember the last time it had happened; maybe it was sometime when he was a boy, but the memory simply did not exist. These were not tears shed in misery, they were spurred by your words of devotion, words he'd never been blessed with before. He truly wondered now if you may be divine, but all he beheld of you told him you were, in fact, human, and not a vision of absolution sent from the heavens above.
You tilted your head to the side and blinked your dollish eyelashes at him, obviously waiting for something, to which he remembered that is was now his turn.
He had neglected to write vows beforehand or memorize the traditional vows spoken by couples bound by marriage as an arrangement. He had, in fact, planned on skipping the process altogether, but your profession of love caught him off guard and incentivized him to speak his own.
So, with a blank mind, he resorted to letting the few truths he knew spill from his mouth.
"I'd only known you during our childhoods, but how you've blossomed and changed has..."
He had never been one for words, so making something up on the spot in front of quite literally a hundred people was daunting. His voice seized with trepidation, but he took a breath and moved forward.
"Has...left me speechless. My mind is empty, and all I can think of now is...that I am blessed."
He swallowed a lump in his throat and continued, struck by your endearing gaze on him—it made his voice quiver as it resounded from his chest.
"I'd assumed I knew you, but it's clear to me now that I have so much more to learn."
He unconsciously squeezed your hand for comfort, and, with a gentle smile on your face, you reassuringly squeezed back; making him sigh and yearn to feel more of you—imagining that you felt like warm cotton, soft and homey, something he could bury himself in and happily stay there for eternity.
"And I want to learn it. I...want to spend my whole life in awe of you, discovering as much as I can, knowing you like I know myself."
He could not hesitate before he blurted his next statement, his voice getting carried away from him and spilling his most personal beliefs.
"And loving you as you love me."
Your cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink, and your eyes glimmered as your perfect lips stretched into an even more enticing smile. He could hear your soft, happy sigh, a sound that not even the priest beside the two of you could catch, almost like a secret meant just for him.
Your sweetness enthralled him like nothing he'd ever experienced— slowly convincing him that you very well may be the best thing that's ever happened to him.
"I'll take care of you.", he promised, and meant it. "I'll spend the rest of my life ensuring your safety and happiness. Despite what you promised before, I will always put a roof over your head. You'll be forever warm and safe. I will fight for you, die for you, do anything you ask. You will want for nothing as long as you're mine."
His vow had come upon its conclusion with one final promise he all but growled, like it was somehow in danger of being broken—that he would go to any length to protect.
"And you will forever be mine."
His pause at the end indicated to the priest that the his vow had ended, and the way your lips parted in wonder and your wide eyes remained locked on his made him want to lean in and kiss you like every inch of his body burned to do. But he had to, begrudgingly, wait; hoping the ceremony would end as soon as possible so he could finally have you to himself and ask you all the questions he was dying for the answers to.
Did you really mean what you said? He sure did, and he didn't even know he had the capacity to not only promise, but want, desperately so, the fulfill the oaths he had declared to you.
Soon enough, the priest announced it was now time for the bestowing of the rings—a symbol of the bond you will share for eternity.
As the ring bearer, Childe's dear brother, Teucer, brought the rings resting on a white silk pillow over to the altar and held it over his head while he balanced on his tippy toes so the two of you could reach the rings with ease. Childe immediately felt awash in shame. All he'd purchased for you was a simple silver band—no precious gems, no original detailing, just a band. He didn't expect to want to take pride in the symbol of his loyalty you'd wear for him on your finger. He'd get you a new one, a better one—one he could admire as he kissed your hand, held it with adoration and smoothed his fingers over it.
But although the ring fell below expectations, there was no disappointment on your face. You barely glanced at it, your eyes trained on his face with a fondness he'd never received before. Your gaze had his heart spilling over with exaltation.
You took his hand in yours and slipped the perfectly fitted ring around his finger, giving it a small squeeze when you were done—as if to brand your affection deep into his hand.
He returned the gesture, taking your other hand in his and, carefully, securing the ring around your finger as well; he breathed a sigh of relief and felt a weight he hadn't known was resting on his shoulders alleviate. His heart thundered in his chest, threatening to leap out in a desperate attempt to be ever closer to yours.
The priest spoke, but his voice was drowned out by Childe's inner voice, wailing for you.
All he could register was the sound of your silver bell-like voice, piercing through the fog in his head like a star's light in the void of the night sky above.
"I do.", you said.
He couldn't tell if he'd rushed ahead of the priest's announcement of his turn or not, but he followed your statement blindly.
"I do.", he whispered ardently, brushing the backs of those precious hands of yours softly with his thumbs.
After the final blurb recited by the priest, a sentiment he couldn't bring himself to listen to in his anticipation, he finally heard the words he'd been waiting for.
"You may now kiss the bride."
Without a moment of delay, he brought both of his hands up to cup your cheeks, a look of ache in his face as it felt like you had reached an invisible hand into his chest and gripped his heart, and kissed you.
Fervently, passionately kissed you.
It took your breath away, left you panting when he finally pulled away after remembering he was, in fact, in front of his parents and broader community.
But cheers sang from the crowd for your union as he led you back down the steps of the altar and out of the church, eyes trained on your feet with your hand secured in his—watching carefully as you descended to make sure you wouldn't fall. He treated you as if you were sculpted from crystal glass.
After the two of you crossed the threshold out of the church as one, Childe gently tugged your hand to draw you closer so that he could whisper in your ear.
"Could we take a walk in the garden?"
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While the guests made their way to the reception hall for their lavish dinner, you and Childe strolled through the church's garden together, hands still intertwined as the two of you gazed at the various winter shrubs and evergreen trees sprinkled with snow. It was beautiful in its own kind of way; the way life persevered through otherwise uninhabitable conditions, how even the bear oak trees existed as intricate silhouettes against the grey sky—providing cover as the sun sank down and gave way to a grim dusk, it was wonderful, and in this moment, it was yours to share.
The two of you came to a halt at a marble bench next to a large, frozen fountain, adorned with swirling details and moulding from an older, more fanciful era. He swiped off the snow that had built on top of the bench, then removed his large, fur-lined cloak to rest on the surface. He led you down to sit on it, having fashioned a dry, warm seat for you as he stood.
"Won't you be cold?"
"I'll be fine.", he assured you. He'd grown used to the frigid air of his home country, having entered various conflicts with nothing but thin linen to cover him for the sake of his movements not being burdened by thick, heavy fabric.
"Thank you.", you spoke, softly, and the words warmed his chest more than any coat could.
He stood there for a long moment, just taking in the sight of you. He just couldn't believe you were real, and couldn't believe you were his at so little a cost—he'd done nothing but bellyache and pluck your name off of a paper, and somehow the situation ended up being the best decision of his life. He'd found someone that claimed to truly, deeply love him by sheer chance.
And that thought brought him to the question that had been weighing on his mind since your vows.
"Did you really mean what you said?", he asked, quietly, hesitantly. After the words left his mouth, he wished he'd never said them. He didn't want to know the answer; if he could live in a fantasy where a miracle like you truly adored him, he'd seize the opportunity and hold it close to his heart for the rest of his life. He felt like such a fool.
"Of course I did.", you chuckled, like the question was ridiculous.
"I thought you hated me.", he confessed, his curiosity for your change of heart getting the best of him when he knew better than to ask too many questions. You only quirked your head and blinked at him, indicating that he needed to clarify. "When we were younger, you acted like you wanted my head on a stick."
To that admission, you laughed heartily. It was a lovely sound, one his mind would no doubt play on repeat in his darkest of times, sending sparks to his heart that would keep him moving forward—back to you so he could hear it again and again. "I was a toddler, dear. I didn't understand my feelings! And you were pretty nasty to me, too.", you said with a playful, pointed look.
The term of endearment made his heart bubble, craving to hear you say it again, but his mind was desperate for more answers. "But...how did you...", he coughed awkwardly, "fall for me?".
His carefully spoken question only made you giggle once again, but you could understand his confusion.
"Oh, Ajax. You were the most entertaining person I've ever met. I know we fought, but I remembered your presence in my life so fondly. And I'd look at pictures of us from our old gatherings, where our parents would force you to hold me on your lap and smile, or take candid shots of us chasing each other around, and I'd wish for you to come back so we could fight again.", you laughed at the memory. "I thought of you all the time, you know. And, as I grew older and life passed by, I'd keep looking back on those photos and...", your cheeks turned even redder than the chilly air had already done, flushing your cheeks and nose. After this conversation, Childe would make sure to rush you inside so you could warm up by a hearth. "Well, my heart would beat for you. And I wished you would come back for different reasons...so I could see you again and fall in love with the man you've become."
Childe gulped in shame. He knew the man he'd become was...cruel. Wicked. He'd never thought so little of himself than when he stood before you, your glorious, pure eyes assessing him like Celestia would upon the day of his death.
But how you looked on at him was not in judgement, but affection. "And when I met you at the altar, I did. I truly did."
He was so swayed by your words, so caught up in your devotion, that though he knew he was undeserving, he leaned down and connected your lips with his once again; his large hands warmed you where they caressed your cheek and the side of your neck, his lips thawing your frozen ones. The flavor of you was intoxicating, but as much as he wanted to prolong this moment, your icy skin pushed him to get you inside immediately.
So he drew back, drawing the most angelic whine of protest from your lips. It made him grin in pride.
"Let's warm you up, huh?"
Though you wanted to stay in the privacy of this isolated garden, continue to live in this moment that only existed for the two of you, you couldn't deny how you shivered and your stomach growled. It was time for your reception, and you couldn't keep your guests waiting.
So you, albeit reluctantly, let Ajax pull you up into his arms and throw his cloak around the both of you before taking you back to the church where he married you, now entering sharing one heart, one life, one love. Forever.
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Part 8
You had planned to spend Sunday morning nursing a hangover with Mere and Tabitha, but after last night’s events you had decided to catch up on organizing the shop while putting your phone on do not disturb.
You had turned your location services off in hopes that for a few hours the world would just leave you the fuck alone.
A few hours was all you were given before a tapping came on the front door of your shop around noon. Peering through the glass window, you spotted him.
He was holding a huge brown paper bag looking at little worse for wear since the last time he showed up. You debated on ignoring him. He had missed the early morning shower otherwise you really would have left him outside.
Bastard.
"John-" When you opened the door, he entered immediately. No doubt guessing you planned to slam the door immediately after telling him to fuck off.
He would have been right.
"Please," you say flatly before closing the door. "Do come in." After last night, after this week, the last thing you wanted to do was see anybody. Him, Johnny, Simon, Kyle, fucking Meredith or Tabitha. Why was it so hard for a person who had very few people in her life, all of which were on the skirts with her, to leave her alone for a single day?
"Well?" You asked when he said nothing. He cleared his throat, as if preparing himself for a long, drawn out speech.
Instead he handed you the bag, the smell hitting you. Warm and welcoming. Price was the only one out of the four who could cook a damn good meal, which made him extra picky when it came to eating out. “Wanted to check in.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, not knowing what to do with them now. “Simon said you had a rough night.”
You scoffed at the understatement. "Yeah," you hated this. You didn't want to tell John about your shitty night with your even shittier friends. "It wasn't the best night out."
"So you know that bloke who got handsy or was he just some random prick?" Your mouth fell open in shock. You didn't expect Simon to be such a fucking gossip. And how fuckin' dare John for thinking he had any right to know who was grabbing your ass and your involvement to that person.
No. Fuck that.
"We're not doing this," you said putting the bag on an empty display table. Fuck. You need to go ahead and unbox that shipment in the back.
"What?" He asked, oblivious as to what he said that was wrong. You push heel of your hands into your eyes, trying to stop the headache that was threatening to form. "Some prick took a fell of ya' and I want to see if-"
"If what?" You cut in. "If I need some comfort at being utterly fucking humiliated at Simon going all caveman in front of everyone and dragging me outside like a child? Or do you want to finish want Simon start with almost killing him!"
"From what I heard, he didn't kill him," John's audacity to correct you as if Simon's restraint was remarkable baffled you. "There's something to be said about that."
"He held him by the neck in the air like a ragdoll. He choked him out in the middle of the pub."
"But," he held up a finger. "he didn't break his neck. He knew you'd be upset."
"You're not seriously defending him right now." You could feel your blood pressure rising. Your lid ready to blow like a fucking kettle.
"From what Simon said it didn't look like the attraction was mutual." That gave you pause. Simon told John it didn't look... mutual. Could Simon tell you were uncomfortable? Did he hear everything Percy said?
Where the fuck did Simon come from anyway?
why the fuck was he at the pub in the first place???
Your mouth hung open for several beats. Any longer and a bug could fly in. But fuck if it didn't feel like cold water had been dumped on you. Why and how did Simon think it wasn't mutual? Why did he care??? Why was he acting like he didn't?
"He-" You began, trying to think of what to ask only to simply screech out "What?" John held his hands up in surrender. Your kettle whistled. You were pissed. More pissed than John had ever seen you and it was still a miracle you hadn't hurled the take out at his head.
"All I'm saying is if he grabbed you without an invitation and Simon saw, the prick is lucky to be alive, much less still walking around with hands."
"Si-" you started. "He-" You clinched your fists so tightly your nails painfully cut into the palm of your hand. "UGH!" You stomped your foot. It was childish, but you didn't care. "I don't need him rescuing me goddamit! I don't need any of you pissing on my legs like a fucking dog and-" you didn't stop. You weren't sure how long you carried on verbally lashing John nor did you give a single flying fuck.
Fuck him. Fuck Simon. Fuck all of them. They didn't get to stalk you and relay information like gossiping fucking school girls. They didn't get to break your heart and believe that you would let them piece it back together. They didn't get to neglect you only to realize you knew your worth. Only giving a shit until you walked away.
You went on and on until your throat ached. You weren't sure what thoughts had left your lips. You weren't entirely sure all what you said. All you knew is that you didn't feel any better. The look on Price's fallen face didn't give you any relief. You took it out on him and you were still hurting.
"Why?" Your voice was hoarse and pleading. "Why won't you guys just fucking leave? You were barely staying in it when we were together? Why now?"
He took a tentative step forwarding. His hands started to reach out to touch your arms before falling back down at his side. He knew he had lost the right to touch you. To comfort you.
"I miss you, Dove." He confessed it as if it would somehow make it all better. "We miss you." You try not to let it phase you, but fuck you were made of flesh, not stone. No matter how angry furious disgusted absolutely devastated you were with everything that happened, with what they did and didn't do, you still, or at least had, loved them. That love didn't vanish over the span of a week. Lord know your broken heart hadn't. "We'll do better."
"It's not that simple." You shook your head, your palms covering your eyes as they began to prickle. You hoped the motion would come across as tired frustration, but John knew. It was your tell. You were close to crying. You always rubbed your face when you were upset.
"It is." He said, finally taking the chance to touch you. Even if it was just to hold your hands in his calloused ones. "We mucked things up, let us fix it. Give us at least the change to be better."
"How?" You asked. "Stop fucking yelling at me for a couple of months until something makes you blow your fucking lid and I'm left feeling like a little kid who's in trouble?" You were surprised not to see him flinch away, but the soft look in his eyes was enough to break your heart all over again. "Or Kyle actually showing up for dates? Johnny not treating me like a fuck buddy?"
"We haven't been good to you." He admits and you still don't feel better. Leaving them hasn't made you feel any better. Only angrier. Yelling at him didn't. Fucking Johnny and breaking his heart didn't. Maybe Mer had a point. Just not with Percy. "We all wanted you and slacked off in doing right by ya."
"So what?" You press. "You want to resume where we left off? I just take you all back and work through the fact of how shitty you all were and hope that you make it up to me?
"No," he shook his head. "Not like that."
"Then what?" You asked.
"I'm fighting for me and you. No one else." You didn't know what to say. The four of them had always been a part of the deal. All or nothing. I mean, the fact that you even entertained the idea of being with all of them was the reasoning that if one of them had went down on the field, three more were there to take care of you.
"If the others can get their own shit together great." He shrugged his shoulders. "If I can't and they can, that's fine too." He stared in your eyes and for a moment, you thought about the first time John apologized for getting angry. Not at you, just in front of you. How he had gotten on his knees and told you the last thing he wanted was for you to be afraid of him. To look at him the same way recruits looked at him. "But I think where we failed was all of us was expecting another one to pick up the slack."
That much was true. Where others failed, others thrived. Simon always stayed after sex, Johnny never raised his voice, John was insistent on going on dates, and Gaz was emotionally available... when he was around at least.
"I know I wasn't the man I needed to be. I wasn't the man you deserved. I took things out on you that weren't your fault. I spoke to you in a way that if any other man did, I would knock him right the fuck out." He shook his head before giving your hands a squeeze. "I'll do what I need to do to set things right between you and me. I'll put in the work to do whatever it takes to have you trust me again."
"It wasn't about not trusting you." You counter
"But it is now." He said. "You don't trust me to respect you; to show kindness, patience. And I know I have my own shit to sort out before even thinking about us being like we were. When things were good, I mean."
You don't know what to say, but you can't say he's right. You don't trust him. Not with your heart. Not anymore.
Moments of silence pass before John lets go of your hands and takes a quick survey of the boxes around you. Your background music of Van Morrison still playing softly from the speaker near your computer.
"You seem busy, so I'll let you get to it." He takes in a deep breath. You're expecting another spiel about how he promises to work on it. Just to give him a chance. You're actually worried you'll consider it. "I picked up your usual. Figured things haven't changed that much since we last went to our spot down by the river."
"Haven't been there in a minute."
"You wouldn't." He said. "Closed the place and moved shop. It's over by the park."
"The one with the asshole geese or the one where Johnny and I were flashed by that guy strung out?" That makes him laugh. You can't remember the last time John laughed. The way his eyes crinkled and his smile shifted his whole face into something entirely joyous.
You missed it.
"Asshole geese." He answered before turning and heading to the door. You didn't speak until the chime of the bell rang.
"What if the others don't?" You ask before he had the chance to close the door. "Get their shit together, I mean."
He turned, giving you that signature closed smile that makes him look like a quokka. You told him that once and he had to googling before arguing that he didn't look like the world's happiest rodent. "That's on them. I have my own work to do." His smile dropping into something softer. Something pleading and pitiful. "But, we still want this. We all still want this. Want you."
You shook your head. The threat of tears returning as you realized how wrong he was. Maybe he did. But not all of them. "Simon doesn't." you huffed, arms crossing over your chest. "He's made that much clear."
"That I don't believe." He shook his head. "Not for a minute."
"Believe it." You sucked in air through your nose as if trying to clear it. Price knew he had to leave. He knew he couldn't see you cry. He knew you wouldn't want him to even if he wanted to stay and make up for all the times he was the reasons behind your tears.
"I didn't do what I needed to and I'll do whatever it takes to get you back." He promises. "But if it came down to it... if you want to settle down and just chose one of us to have you, to keep you," he took in a deep breath. The next words like a knife twisting in his chest. "I wouldn't truly love you if I didn't tell you that Simon is the only one of us who deserves you."
"Why?" You knew in that moment Simon hadn't told John about that night. About his cruel words and your realization that he was right. There was never a true happily ever after with them.
"Because he's the only one willing to hide in the shadows and let you live your life," his smile now gone completely. "I'm sorry that I'm too selfish to do that."
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if people want to visit me i’m going to need at least a week’s warning
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romanticintheory · 21 days
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thinking about fellow soldier!reader coming back to ghost after having been mistaken for kia
gn!reader x simon "ghost" riley
-maybe he's back in your shared apartment, holding the last photo he took with you.
-it was taken the day of your birthday, with your arms around simon's waist and a gleeful smile permanently etched on your face.
-you were looking directly at the camera with your eyes crinkled at the corners. simon, however, was looking at you and only you with an expression only a lovestruck fool could manage.
-he had long since stopped crying about what he believed was your death. when price came to him with a somber expression and the news that you were on the wrong end of an explosion, the only thing he could do was cry or be angry.
-now, he felt nothing.
-you could imagine his surprise when he hears the front door open. did he forget to lock it? was someone breaking in? he didn't care enough to prepare himself for a potential attack.
-but, no, you walked in with an ungodly amount of bandaged wounds and a tired look on your face.
-you expected him to stand from his place on the sofa to meet you, but he didn't. he thought he was imagining things, again, so he said nothing.
-"simon," you said softly, not bothering to take off your shoes and throwing you things onto the ground next to you.
-still, he said nothing.
-"i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry. price said he tried to contact you but that you never answered," you continued. nobody knew where you and ghost lived, and simon's grief took the form of self-isolation.
-he still didn't answer you at this point, and it was becoming unsettling.
-"simon, can you hear me?"
-"you're not real," was all he could muster. he didn't have the heart to tell "fake" you to go away or beg himself to wake up from his supposed dream. "i can't do this again. you're not real."
-you realized just how hard your false death had hit him.
-"i'm real. i promise. i was able to take cover last second and-"
-"no. you're dead with not even a body to recover because i wasn't there to protect you. god, i..." the words got stuck in his throat as he leaned forward on the sofa, holding his head in his hands and near trembling.
-you dropped to your knees in front of him like a follower worshipping their god. taking his hands, you held them tight as you could in a silent attempt at convincing him you were alive.
-there was a moment of silence between the two of you before he drew his hands away from yours. it made your heart hurt.
-"simon..." you were grasping at straws, now, trying to figure out how to convince him of what was true. maybe there was something in your luggage that might help.
-as soon as you turned your body to your bags by the front door, you were pulled right back in by a pair of strong arms.
-he was hugging you like the moment he let go, you'd disappear into thin air (and, in a way, he believed it to be a possibility). after being pulled from your shock, you immediately brought your own arms to reciprocate the embrace.
-"(y/n)," he said, trying to keep his voice stable. there was still a part of him that couldn't believe he had you with him. if he weren't so thankful, he'd be lecturing you about acting wreckless on missions and convincing you to quit your job so nothing like this happened again.
-but, for now, he was content like this.
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aerynwrites · 8 months
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Longing
Halsin x Fem!Reader
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A/N: I have been burning with an intense CRAVING for Halsin and there is such little fic about him (although there are some good ones out there 👀) so I had to do my part and add to the pool 😏 hope y’all enjoy!
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, reader is insecure about her virginity, talks of inexperience, love confessions, Halsin is a sweetheart, references to NSFW content. Very very minor spoilers for act 2.
Part 2
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The fur of the rabbit is soft between your fingers as you prepare it. Yet, despite having a knife in your other hand and your task being a delicate one, you can’t seem to focus.
Your eyes keep drifting back to the druid across camp chopping wood for the fire. The axe is a large one, heavy - heavier than you’d be able to lift. Yet the large elf manages to bring it up above his head and swing it back down with a grace you never understood how he possessed.
The muscles in his shoulders ripple with each movement, accompanying the rythmic thump of the axe through wood. His soft grunts as he pulls it from the stump he’s using before placing the next log onto the surface and starting the process all over again.
“The rabbit is already dead, darling.”
The familiar voice rips you from your staring as your head whips around to see none other than your vampiric companion standing over you, a smirk tugging at his lips. You huff at him before looking down to the rabbit by your knees and heat rushes to your cheeks. What should have been a simple skinning job to get the meat ready for dinner has turned into a mess. Cuts in the wrong places, the hide nowhere near usable anymore.
You look back up just in time to see Astarions red eyes go from you, to Halsin, then back again. His smile grows. He shifts his feet, one arm resting across his chest as he gestures with his other to Halsin.
“You know, you could paint a portrait. It would last longer.”
Your cheeks somehow get even hotter, as you turn back to the rabbit in front of you, doing a much better job than earlier.
“Leave me alone, Astarion,” you mumble, cursing internally when the elf lowers himself to the ground beside you, arms resting on his knees.
“And why would I do that, when teasing you gives me so much joy?”
You can’t stop the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Okay, well you got me all flustered. So now that’s out of the way, did you need something or did you really interrupt your reading to bother me?”
The vampire sighs, leaning back on his hands as he looks over to you. “What I need is for you to finally jump that druids bones.”
You nearly choke as the words leave his lips, looking around to see if anyone heard and feeling heat creep up your neck once more as you see Shadowheart failing to hide a chuckle.
You turn to face your friend, eyes narrowed. “Could you be a little more quiet? I don’t need the whole camp hearing you.”
Astarion laughs this time, loudly, and it draws more glances than you’d like. You roughly shove the man next to you before he can speak.
“Your next words better be a whisper or I’m going to stab you ” you threaten, poking the knife in his direction.
Astarion places a hand over his heart, faux hurt in his eyes. “You wound me, darling. I’m just trying to help you. Plus,” he gestures to the camp, “it’s not like your attraction is a secret, nor Halsin’s.”
You shake your head turning back to grab another rabbit, embarrassment welling up in your chest. “He doesn’t…” you trail off, getting defensive. “Nothing’s there, Astarion. So can we please just drop it?”
Of course, he doesn’t.
“Look,” he starts, “all I’m trying to say is that neither of you are benefiting from holding back so…indulge, for once. Gods know we all deserve it.”
You ignore him. Curling in on yourself at the mention of…indulging. There nothing wrong with it of course. Everyone at camp has blown off steam along this adventure. Just…not you.
And the vampire must be able to tell too, because at your silence he straightens up, brows pinching in the rare way that shows he’s concerned.
“Wait, have you never…?” he gestures vaguely in the air.
His words, despite their genuine curiosity, strike a chord in you. You stand abruptly, tossing your work to the ground and stabbing your knife in the dirt.
“No I haven’t. Not that it’s any of your business.” Your words are louder than you intended and draw the eyes and ears of your other companions.
Astarion softens, obviously not expecting this reaction. “I didn’t mean to upset you-“
You clench your fists at your sides, interrupting him. “You never mean to Astarion but -“ You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath. “You’re such an ass sometimes.”
You turn on your heel and storm from camp before anyone can stop you, ignoring the concerned gaze of a certain druid.
———
The water is cool against your skin as you squat by the stream’s edge, rubbing at your hands as you try to get the blood off of them.
You feel foolish now, storming off like that. But Astarion pointing out your inexperience just struck you. It’s not something that’s ever bothered you before. Especially not in recent months since dealing with the tadpole. You all have more important things to worry about.
But the moment you rescued Halsin…it’s like something changed. You were instantly drawn to him. His kind smile and thoughtful words. His care for everyone and everything in nature.
And he flirted with you.
The memory is still fresh in your mind. The night of the tiefling party after you had stopped the ritual at the druid camp and saved Halsin. You were worried you were talking his ear off, but he was attentive the whole conversation. Answering your questions and asking some about you.
Then he said those honeyed words. Suggested celebrating by spending the night with someone special. Implied he would spend it with you if his mind wasn’t elsewhere.
You withdraw your hands from the water to drag them down your face as more memories surface.
More flirtatious banter and kind words. Thoughtful conversations and fighting side by side. The night sat by your bedside nursing you back to health after a particularly nasty fight. After Ketheric Thorm almost took you out.
Your side still aches with the memory. But the thought of his hands with their soothing healing glow, makes the ache subside.
You sigh, sitting back into the grass as your eyes lock onto the slowly gurgling stream, Astarion words playing over and over in your head.
Indulge, for once.
You want to. Gods do you want that.
You’ve spent many sleepless nights thinking about it. About his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, the sweet words he’d no doubt whisper against your ear.
You shudder at the thought before shoving it away. Because any time he hinted at that - showed any interest in you - you would be so elated before insecurity took over.
Halsin’s views on love and intimacy are no secret. You’d asked him once about current lovers and while he did confide no one currently held his affections back home he also expressed that there were others in the past.
Others. Plural.
And you’ve never been with anyone. Not physically or emotionally, you’ve never trusted anyone enough.
Not until now.
You sigh, frustration creeping back in as you press the heels of your palms into your eyes before quickly standing up. You need to apologize to Astarion and finally, maybe, talk to Halsin.
You turn on your heel to do just that when you run straight into a solid mass. You gasp, stumbling backwards just as two strong hands reach out to steady you, gripping your wrists firmly.
Once steady, you look up to see none other than the man haunting your thoughts smiling down at you.
“You must have been very deep in thought for someone like me to sneak up on you, little one.”
You have to suppress a shiver at the nickname. A moniker he’d given you since you teased him about his size at the beginning of your friendship.
You shake your head, moving to step away and only stopping when his hands let go only to slip down and take your own gently.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I was just…thinking.”
Halsin stares at you for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face before he steps away, gesturing down the first path, one hand still in your own.
“Walk with me?” he asks. “I know being in nature helps me clear my head of even the darkest thoughts.”
You give a hesitant nod and follow him as he turns towards the path, not able to stop the smile when he doesn’t drop your hand.
———
The walk is mostly silent, a comfortable silence, but silent nonetheless. And you are grateful for it, not sure what you would say if Halsin were to ask what has you so upset.
But, silence can’t last forever it seems, because eventually the large Druid breaks through the sounds of nature surrounding you to speak.
“I overheard your conversation with Astarion,” he says, voice gentle. Probing, but not not forcing you to talk if you do not wish.
You stiffen, your pace slowing slightly, wanting to pull away from the man at your side. But his sure grip on your hand keeps you in place. The warmth of his skin on yours puts you slightly at ease.
“You…you heard that?” you ask, cringing internally. “You were across camp.”
The druid chuckles, gesturing to his ears with his free hand. “One of the curses of us elves. Impeccable hearing. Even when we don’t wish for it.”
You can feel your shoulders creeping up to your ears. Embarrassment settling in once more. “You were listening to us? To me?”
Halsin shrugs. “Not intentionally,” he admits, slowing his steps until you’re both stopped and he’s facing you. “But I find my attention turning towards you more often than not these days.”
His words tie your tongue and before you can gather enough sense to respond he continues.
“Nature works in mysterious ways, little one,” he tells you, eyes never leaving your face. “There is no one way to traverse it, and others journey do not define your own. Each one is unique, as it is intended.”
His words are beautifully woven, as always. And despite his cryptic deliverance, you know the meaning behind his words.
He’s comforting you. And once again, he speaks before you can detangle the jumble of thoughts in your head.
“And,” he reaches out, placing a curled finger beneath your chin to urge you to look up at him, “if it’s any encouragement, I seek you out as much as you do me. Possibly more so.”
Your eyes widen, heart stuttering in your chest at his words. He…does he feel the same way? Rationally you know he does. But that ever familiar self doubt, the tiny voice in your mind has always brushed away the flirting - the kind words and gentle touches as just part of his nature. None of it is reserved just for you.
Right?
Halsin smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners gently as he looks down at you. “Is that really such an outlandish thought? That I return your affections?” He pauses, “unless my heart has run ahead of itself and I have misread-“
You stop him then, reaching up to place a staying hand on his own beneath your chin.
“No! You haven’t…you haven’t misread,” you assure him, trying to still your racing heart.
His smile never falters, his other hand finally coming up to cradle the back of your head, teasing soft strands of hair between his fingers.
“That is good to hear,” he says, pulling you ever closer, his nose almost brushing yours, “it puts this old druid's mind at rest.”
Gods, you can’t breathe. The air in your lungs refusing to expel as he lean even closer, lips a hairbreadth away from your own. Your body sings with anticipation, your skin hot despite the cool air ushered in by the sun sinking below the horizon, the days last rays barely filtering through the trees.
“Can I kiss you, my heart?”
Halsins words are soft, barley a whisper and nearly drowned out by the sounds of nature around you and the roaring of blood in your ears.
You nod. “Please-“
The word barely passes your lips before he descends upon you, sealing his mouth with your own.
It’s both everything you expected and completely surprising at the same time. His hands are sure as he pulls you into him, one hand still cradling your head as the other slips down to your hip before wrapping around your waist. Yet his lips, the kiss itself is…soft. Gentle. Loving. The action speaks louder than any words either of you have said to one another. Louder than the words you never worked up the courage to speak.
Finally, your mind catches up with you, and your hands slide up his chest to clutch tentatively at his shoulders.
Halsins still hasn’t broken away from you, and when his tongue brushes against your lips you let him in. You tug him closer then, one of your hands sliding up to rest at the back of his neck eliminating any empty space between you as his tongue slides against your own.
He only pulls away when he must sense your need for air, but he doesn’t go far, lips pressing gently to the corner of your own, and then another to your jaw.
You’re breathless.
Chest heaving against him, as he pulls away just enough to look at you once more.
“As much as I’d love to continue…” his hand squeezes your hip gently, “we should make our way back to camp. I can imagine our absence as stirred gossip with our vampiric companion and..” he sighs, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. “I don’t want to overwhelm you.”
You can’t surprise the shiver that runs down your spine, or the smile that tugs at your lips.
“I’m…I’m okay being overwhelmed if it’s like that,” you tell him breathlessly.
Halsin laughs, a deep down genuine laugh that makes your heart sing even as he steps away from you.
“Then I will overwhelm you in all the ways I know how.” He promises, eyes trailing over you heatedly.
Your stomach does a flip at his words, and the effect they have on you must show on your face because Halsin chuckles again, leaning in to press one last kiss to your cheek before tugging you back in the direction towards camp.
“Another night, my heart,” he says, thumb brushing over your knuckles from where your hand remains in his own.
You let out a shaky breath, and nod, smiling as you walk closer to him. “I’m holding you to that.”
“I hope you would, though I doubt I will forget such a promise,” he assures before letting silence blanket you both one more.
You can’t stop the thrill that runs through you at his words.
Yes, I’ll hold you to that promise indeed.
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shewrites444 · 10 months
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arranged [thomas shelby x reader smut]
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[ i’ve never written about one of cillian murphy’s characters but oppenheimer has me feeling a bit inspired lately. i haven’t watched peaky blinders in ages, so apologizes if it’s not completely accurate to the storyline. ]
[update: arranged part 2 ]
word count - 2.1k
[ summary - the reader and tommy agree to an arranged marriage that suits both of their needs. despite their disliking of each other, the two seem quite fond of each other in the bedroom, especially on their wedding night. ]
[ warnings - enemies to lovers trope that includes unprotected sex, oral, roughness, etc ]
-
thomas shelby was the last man i ever imagined myself being wedded to, but when my father unexpectedly passed and i no longer had the protection of his people, i had to find another way to make sure i wouldn’t be a victim to any gangs of birmingham - including the peaky blinders.
of course, tommy would never have married me if there wasn’t something i could offer him in return - that happened to be a ton of inherited money from my father, and several breweries i now technically owned, and numerous meeting spots that only i knew about, that the coppers would never find him or his family at, during anytime of the day.
despite the convenience of our arrangement, there was nothing favorable for either of us past the business side of things. our families had been at each other’s throats for years and now that my father was gone, a lot of that tension was, but nevertheless, you can’t expect a peaky blinder to not hold a grudge, even on their wedding night.
“see, that wasn’t so bad.” i mutter to my newly wed husband, walking into the dimly lit bedroom as i took off my white heels, setting them aside the now shut door. i watch as tommy began to unbutton his white dress shirt, and i sigh to myself, but loud enough to quirk his brow.
i tuck my hair behind my ears, walking to the bed and pulling the sheets down to prepare for what would hopefully be a fairly long sleep, given that i’d prefer not think much about who i was now standing across from.
“you don’t have to stay in here tonight if you don’t want to or even at all, tommy. you already have children and i’m aware you don’t want more, and frankly, i don’t want any, so just lie and tell polly the marriage was consummated tomorrow morning. go on.” i gesture my hand up and towards the door, watching his blank expression as i spoke in a more demanding, harsh manner.
he walked towards the bed, untucking his side, his shirt now unbuttoned and his toned, pale body at my exposure, which only made my cheeks redden as the muscles flexed with his movements. i may have despised the man for his profession, but it’s not like he wasn’t physically attractive.
“i may not be so found of you, mrs. shelby, but i do keep my marriage duties, at least to sleep beside you.” he says plainly, sitting down on the white sheets before looking up to me with a teasing expression. it almost felt wrong to see him show any emotion besides, well, none. “now, do i have to make you turn around while i fuck you, or can you bare the sight of me while doing so?”
i roll my eyes with a smirk, laying down and hovering my face above his before biting my bottom lip, glancing at his own with a bit of temptation, but nothing i couldn’t ignore for the sake of my ego. “i’m shocked you even asked to touch me, mr. shelby. peaky blinders have always seemed so forward with what they want.”
he tilted his head, his well-groomed hair bouncing lightly at the movement, now reaching over to hold the back of my neck, running his fingertips through the ends of my hair. “would you prefer i not ask? you didn’t strike me as the type of woman who’d prefer to be fucked like an animal.”
“you didn’t strike me as the type of man to wait until we were wed to even discuss sex, so we’re both a bit surprised. have you been distracted with other women through our engagement, dear husband?”
he scoffed at my comment, sitting up and leaning himself down to peck at my neck lightly, his heated breath against my tingling skin, a pit forming in my stomach at the touch he never dared grant me until now.
“you never gave me any suggestion to fuck before tonight, [y/n]. i assumed you wouldn’t allow me to lay a finger on you. this all seemed like a business opportunity, a plan for protection and financies, nothing more.” he muttered through his kisses, trailing his lips down to my covered chest before looking up to me again. “so, how about i ask you like a gentlemen, mrs. shelby. is this for business, or not?”
i shrug softly, glancing down to meet his seductive, icy blue eyes. “i think i’ll be able to tell if it is or not when you fuck me, mr. shelby."
he reached over to pull me on top of him, grabbing the white gown that dressed me and helping me to slip it off my core and past my arms, tossing it to the floor, which exposed me in nothing but my underwear, my breasts falling out of the fabric and resting before him. he took one hand to hold my back, the other cupping one breast and his thumb flicking at the hardening nipple. i feel him push me down, his lips attaching to the bud as i let out a soft moan, shocked by how sensual thomas shelby could be if directed to do so.
i could feel the bulge in his pants growing, beginning to grind myself against the black pants while he fondled my breasts with his mouth and free hand, the other that was once on my back now guiding itself down to my ass. he pulled himself away from my breast, panting softly to himself as the tension began to increase between our moving bodies.
“take off your panties and lay down on your back, won't you.” he said to me in a more demanding tone. i stood up and did so, spreading my legs before him as he undressed himself at the side of the bed, soon leaning down in front of me.
i chew my bottom lip at the sight of the man before me, but gasp as his tongue links to my clit, swirling and flicking around the sensitive bud of skin, while i only grow wetter through his touch and the saliva that collected against my entrance. i reach down to hold his head of black hair, my other hand resting against my chest while he continued to give me nothing but pleasure.
“this… this doesn’t seem… like b-business to me…” i stutter my words, my back arching at every sensitive touch he brought to my body. my words made him pull away, a smirk on his wet lips as he stuck one finger inside of me, pumping and curling it slowly enough to draw a loud moan from my lips before pulling it out right after.
he leaned down and gestured for me to open my mouth, sticking his finger inside for me to taste my own juices before pulling it out and licking it himself.
“neither does this, how wet you are for me. are you sure you want to take back the consummation of our arrangement, hm? it seems you like my tongue, mrs. shelby. do you think i’ll like yours?” he grinned, standing up and pointing his full erection towards me, holding it in one hand as i sat up on the bed.
i blush, getting off of the bed and onto my knees before him. i take his length into one hand, pumping it slowly as i look up to him, our eyes locked when i lean forward and take his tip into mouth, a heavy sigh coming from his lips as i begin to suck him off. he was thick and much longer than any man i’d ever been with, and frankly, if we were to sleep together tonight, i was a bit nervous of how my body would take him and the aftermath of it all tomorrow morning.
“fuck, fill your throat with me, [y/n]..” he moaned, both hands holding the back of my head as he thrusted himself towards my face. i took his cock down my throat, my eyes closing almost immediately as a tear runs down my cheek from the unexpected penetration, moving my head back and forth as his balls slap against my wet chin.
he tilted his head, mouth hung open as he watched me take him down my throat. i could hear his breath cutting short each time he thrusted, his cock twitching inside my mouth as he edged himself through each stroke. when he could tell through my reddening expression and glossy eyes that i was a bit overstimulated, he slowly pulled himself out of my mouth, leaning down to help me back on my feet and onto the bed.
he kneeled down before me, grabbing my face with both hands and pressing a passionate kiss against my lips, his tongue pushing itself into my mouth, which distracted me from the way he was moving my body off the bed again. he wraps his arms around me and guides me across the room and to the dresser, where he then breaks the kiss and turns me around, bending my body against the wood to where i made eye contact with the mirror that connected the furniture.
"i think this is worth the watch, don't you?" he teases, a devilish smirk across his face as he takes my neck in one hand, the other trailing before my pussy, his index and middle fingers attaching to my clit as he pushes himself inside of me without warning.
i gasp, watching my mouth open as he begins to fuck me, hard, against the dresser. the stimulation above my insides didn't make this any easier to take, given the fact i could already feeling my climax building in a matter of seconds.
i rest both palms against the wood, watching tommy's lips trail to my shoulder as he kissed against my sweating skin, leaving fresh hickeys from time to time, marking me like i was more than just an arrangement to him. if anything, this showed me that thomas shelby may not favor me, but he sure wanted the world to know i was his wife, and no one else's.
"i could fuck you all day, [y/n]. nothing fucking... compares to... how good you feel, fuck.." he muttered between kisses, looking up to meet my eyes in the mirror, his hand moving from my neck to hold my left breast tightly, halting it from bouncing throughout his thrusts. "do you feel me as much as i feel you?"
i nod, mouth still hung open, unable to even speak a word as tommy pulled my body closer, his fingers digging into my clit and forcing me to arch my back down, my ass pressing against him and causing even harsher friction between our bodies while he quickened his pace at the touch, the sound of our skin slapping together overpowering the bedroom.
i suddenly feel his arm wrap around my waist, and then the other, holding me so close and his body leaned so far down my back was touching his core. he thrusted deeper, further than what i even thought was possible for him to go, and so much so to the point i was in immense pain, but god, it felt so fucking good. his cock overpowered my entire body, and i felt my orgasm rushing to the surface, fluids leaking out from inside of me past himself and dripping between my legs, his own orgasm filling my insides within a matter of seconds after.
i feel him slide out of me, catching his own breath and helping turn me around to face him. he takes my hand and places the other on my back, guiding me to the bed once more and laying me down, pulling the sheet on top of me to cover my stomach down, my breasts exposed to the cold air. i feel his lips against my chest, lightly kissing from my nipples, to my shoulders, to my neck, and to my lips, once more. he smiles softly, and genuinely, to me, before snapping out of his sappy mood to grab a cigarette from the nightstand, lighting it.
"do you think we'll be doing this again?" he asks quietly, handing me the cigarette. "doesn't seem like it would be a negative thing to add to our arrangement, eh?"
i smirk, blowing the smoke out from my lips and towards the ceiling. "i wouldn't be opposed, but if you fuck me that hard every time, i'm not sure i would be able to get out of bed the next morning."
he chuckled to himself, standing up and walking to the other side of the bed, sliding himself into the sheets and putting out the cigar. he took me into his arms, lighting running his hand across my hair. "we can see about that. goodnight, mrs. shelby."
i rest my head against his chest, closing my eyes and smiling to myself, partially hoping tommy wouldn't see my vunerability.
"goodnight, mr. shelby."
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ozzgin · 5 months
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Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (IV)
Happy Holidays! Remember your plans to visit friends and family back in your home country? Scratch that. The Yakuza men have other ideas for you in this cozy Christmas special. And you finally get to meet their fearsome Boss, who has a request for you.
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]
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You stare at your phone in disbelief, rereading each line and hoping you've misunderstood the kanji. Daitou and Kazuya are quietly frowning behind you, unsure how to help in such a situation. Their lack of response only confirms it.
The brief paragraph is written in bold, red font: Due to weather conditions, all flights are cancelled until further notice. Passengers have been refunded and will need to repurchase their tickets at first convenience.
One glimpse at the last-minute prices and you're certain of it: you won't be going home for Christmas. You slouch and sigh, somewhat at peace with the idea. What else can you do? You might as well get yourself a KFC bucket and stare at the holiday lights in the city center. You and the couples taking cheesy Christmas selfies, who will later wonder about the gloomy loner behind them philosophically crunching on spicy wings.
"Don't look so defeated, (Y/N). You can just spend that time with us instead. We're not such terrible company, are we?" Kazuya jokes, trying to cheer you up.
"We could even go on a trip around New Year."
Your eyes light up in anticipation, the sadness vanishing almost instantly. 
"Can we go to one of those hot spring inns? I've always wanted to visit an onsen." You put your hands together pleadingly. 
"Whoa! Take me out to dinner first if you're that eager to see me naked." The blonde man winks at you smugly. 
"How would I see you naked? The baths are separated, aren't they?" You inquire. 
"We can't go to the regular ones." Daitou pulls his collar slightly downwards, revealing a fragment of his traditional tattoos. True. A yakuza would never be allowed among the civilians. "We'd have to book a private bath, so there wouldn't be anyone else."
You blush at the prospect of being alone with the two men. Kazuya notices your nervousness and is about to continue his teasing, but Daitou speaks before him, unbothered and oblivious:
"Besides, you've already seen me naked. I can tell you Kazuya doesn't look much different. There's nothing to be shy about."
The blonde man can only gawk, taken aback, and you shove Daitou in a flustered panic, fumbling to find an excuse or a change of subject.
He didn't have to make your business public like that, or he could've at least announced it without you being present. Judging by the blonde's speechless reaction, you're guessing he hasn't been told about your sneaky office smooching that led to the occasional sleepover. If you think about it, there's nothing shameful about being intimate with your boyfriend, but...It's not something you're fully accustomed to yet.
As promised, after the coworker incident you were soon greeted with a job offer in the neighborhood. When you went to your old office to discuss the mandatory year contract, the managers nervously handed you an approval for resignation and refused to discuss any details. You were free to go, no penalty or obligation. They had a fearful demeanor and you hoped Daitou didn't dismember anyone involved. Regardless of his means, you were now at the liberty to pursue other careers.
On the other hand, you were rather anxious about your new workplace. You had flashing visions of drug cartels and gambling parlors, with thugs rattling their drinks at you and demanding proper service. Windows breaking and masked men rolling onto the floor, armed to the brim. Ginza hostesses scurrying behind you and asking for help against an angered client. The night before your first day, you restlessly shuffled in your bed, plagued by second thoughts. What could you possibly do for the yakuza? What ghoulish demands would they prepare for you?
Daitou was the one to accompany you in the morning. He showed you to your desk, and you could discern the blurred frames of people angrily discussing matters in the opposing meeting room, separated by a large window. You gulped.
"They're building a new apartment complex two streets down." Your boyfriend mentioned casually, helping you settle with your belongings. 
"Huh?"
"Oh, sorry, I thought you were curious about their talk."
"I mean, I am, but...Is that it?" You gazed at him incredulously. 
"What else? This is a real estate office. Upstairs is the stock investments."
"Oh...Oh...I thought..." You were a little embarrassed. The imaginary scenarios of bloody battles and crimes that kept you awake felt quite ridiculous now.
Daitou seemed to have picked up on your assumptions, because he chuckled and ruffled your hair, following with an explanation. 
"Boss is very strict with our Ninkyo-Do. If you're caught with drugs or petty theft, you're excommunicated. We used to have a bunch of gambling casinos as main income, but nowadays there's too much pressure from the police, ya know? Half of our members aren't even officially registered with the Yakuza, so they can't be tracked. We mostly do stocks and real estate. That's where the cash is. 
Heh. Kinda boring, ain't it? I'm afraid you showed up way after the golden times. Even I'm too young for it. If ya want, I can ask one of the retired seniors to tell you about it. He has a lot of great stories."
You held your tongue from bringing up his frequent killing sprees and just nodded, amused by the fact that his code of conduct didn't register human casualties as wrong. The Yakuza have strict rules of ethics that set them apart from regular mafia. Depending on the Oyabun, or Head of the Family, this chivalrous way of living is reinforced to all members or conveniently swept under the rug. Daitou's Boss seemed to fit in the former category. 
Therefore your "office job" turned out to be an actual office job without the quotes. Although you were often reminded the people passing by weren't your regular salarymen. Many of them were entirely transparent with you, striking up conversations about their latest arrest, or complaining about the poor quality of their pinky finger prosthetic they'd ordered from the Philippines. 
But this isn't the time to reminisce. The prolonged silence is unbearable and one could fry eggs on your hot, burning cheeks. Kazuya is the one to break the awkwardness. 
"Oh, yeah...You coming to the Christmas thing this evening?"
"We'll be there." Daitou smiles innocently, unaware of the discomfort he just caused.
Kazuya raises his eyebrows in surprise and looks at you.
"Did you...?"
"Yup. It's all fine." The dark haired man nods reassuringly. 
"Then I'll see you at dinner, little (Y/N). Don't catch a fever with all that steam blowing out of you." He laughs at your still baffled expression and places his large hand on your head, departing.
Daitou holds the door open for you and you hurry inside. As you both walk down the hallway of the luxurious restaurant, you can't help the nagging feeling that he's once again omitted some vital information. 
"Can you tell me again who else is coming? Just Kazuya?"
"Oh no, it's a Family meeting. So Boss and the rest of the Seniors, too."
You gasp in horror, but before you can scold him, you find yourself behind the canvas screen divider, facing a table of older men in suits, holding their drinks and eyeing you suspiciously. 
"Oi, who the fuck is this, Daitou?" one of them growls. 
"I already told you before, (Y/N). My girlfriend."
"Huh? Did you seriously just bring a civvy to our meeting? I knew you got a loose screw, boy, but this tops it all."
Daitou frowns and steps in front of you, visibly annoyed. 
"If ya got a problem with my woman being here, I can settle it for you, old man. When was the last time you fought someone?"
"'s that supposed to mean?"
"It means you've gotten too comfortable sitting up there and barking orders. Let me remind you why they leave the killings to me."
The thick tension in the air is quickly dispersed by a loud, relaxed laugh. At the end of the table, a heavily scarred man with grey hair is clapping his hands in delight, seemingly amused by the events unfolding. He glances at you and pats a cushioned seat to his right. 
"There you are! Come join us, miss (Y/N). Ignore those rusty grumps, they ain't seen a woman outside a host club." He throws the instigator a brief glare. "Is that any way to talk to my guest, Oota?"
The man swallows dryly and mutters an apology. He goes back to his drink, preoccupied, and the rest follow suit. 
You hesitantly kneel down to your designated place, sheepishly peeking at the mysterious figure. Could it be? As if reading your mind, Daitou places an encouraging hand on your waist and lowers his head to your ear, swiftly whispering "that's Boss" before going to greet the others at the table. 
"I-it's a pleasure meeting you, Sir." You mumble nervously.
"No no, pleasure is all mine. I'm Eiji Ijichi, 8th Head of our Family." 
His introduction is unexpectedly warm and his easygoing way of speaking reminds you a lot of Daitou. The faintest grin threatens to appear, but you cover your mouth. With enough imagination, this could be the equivalent of meeting your in-laws. This is Daitou's family, after all. A criminally scary one, but nonetheless you've been welcomed with open arms.
"Do you drink?" The older man asks you, raising his porcelain cup.
"Naturally." You exclaim and lift your own cup enthusiastically. 
"Attagirl!"
As the night progresses, the men at the table are loosening up under the influence of expensive alcohol. Kazuya seems to be caught in a terribly involved conversation with Daitou and one of their Captains, gesturing dramatically and occasionally raising his tone. You notice your glass has once again been filled by the waitress and take another sip, satisfied with observing their fun from the sidelines. Boss has a similar approach, gazing nostalgically over the rowdy group of thugs.
He reaches for his pack of smokes and you scramble to pick up the lighter, politely bowing as you light up his cigarette. He smiles at your gesture. 
"I see Daitou's trained you already."
He ponders for a moment, gently blowing a cloud of smoke upwards. 
"You'll make a good wife."
"Excuse me?" You question, startled by his sudden remark. 
"It's hard to tell, but I'm getting pretty old myself." He snickers at his self made compliment. "Soon it'll be time to pick my successor. I have no children, unless you count that rascal I picked from the streets." He says as he tilts his chin towards Daitou. 
"I love him like my own kid, but I'm sure you noticed he's a little off. Everyone is terrified of him. You can't have a leader if everyone runs away from him, ya know? I was starting to get worried I'd work myself through retirement. Kazuya can only do so much!
Then he comes up to me grinning like an idiot. I thought, 'There it is. He finally lost it', but instead he asks me if I want to see a photo of his girlfriend. Girlfriend?! I was ready to witness some crusty body pillow, my hand was on the phone to call our Family doctor. He shows me a cute foreigner standing next to him. Now I'm pretty sure he's not smart enough to fake photos like that, so it must be the real deal. 'How the Devil did ya pull this one?' I asked him. Cause listen, I was rather handsome back in my day and I still wouldn't have been this lucky.
And would ya look at that, it's the miss that moved into our apartments! How's the living conditions, by the way? Everything going fine?"
You nod energetically.
"Good, good."
He crosses his arms and nods himself, satisfied. He turns to gaze at you intently, with a face you can't quite read.
"You gotta excuse a drunk old man for rambling so much. What I'm trying to say...well...
Take care of him when he becomes the 9th, will ya? If he has you, I'm sure he'll manage. But don't tell him I said that! You gotta keep them humble. See, that's a lesson for you too. If there's one person the Head of the Family bows to, that's his wife! But I doubt he'd let the power get to his head."
You both turn to Daitou. He just finished pouring more sake to his superior and notices your stare. He blushes slightly and waves, unsure why he's suddenly being observed. 
"I think so, too." You respond, waving back. 
How would that look on a CV? Ane-san of a Yakuza family. 
2K notes · View notes
theemporium · 2 months
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[4.1k] as it would turn out, you were serious about your offer. and luke was serious about accepting. it was just going to take a while for his body to remember that this was a glorified business deal between friends and nothing more. and he was definitely okay with that. (smut)
series masterlist
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Stupidly, Luke didn’t think you were actually serious. 
In his head, the whole thing felt like a fever dream, starting from the moment he spilled his drink all over you leading to the moment you blatantly asked him if he wanted you to take his virginity. It felt like one of those weird dreams that made you wake up confused and bleary and unsure what year it even was, one of those dreams that linger in the back of your head for a few days before you eventually forgot about it.
Luke would have bet money on the whole thing being a weird dream that was haunting him if it weren’t for the fact he woke up one morning, a few days  after the party, with a message from you on his screen. 
cherry🍒: on a scale from one to ten, how likely are you to spill your drink on me again?
cherry🍒: also my place or yours? 
He stared at the messages for an embarrassingly long time, like he was staring at the proof the whole thing wasn’t some messed up dream in his head. Luke had spent the better part of the summer wondering what would have happened if he had asked for your number that night like Jack always teased him about, and now he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself with it being a reality. 
hockey boy: i cannot promise anything 
hockey boy: you are welcome to come to my place but jack will probably be here so…
hockey boy: he’s nosy 
hockey boy: and annoying 
Luke frowned at himself, finger hovering over the messages like he would have a chance to delete them before you saw them, all one after the other like he was twelve and didn’t care about double texting. Or quadruple texting. But before he could even try to hide his own embarrassment, you were typing again.
cherry🍒: my place it is then
cherry🍒: see you at seven ;)
He also didn’t care to admit how long he stared at that message before he dragged himself out of bed, trying to ignore the odd buzz itching under his skin. It wasn’t even nine in the morning and his head was already spinning.
Luke was thankful enough that it was still preseason, that there wasn’t a game he had to prepare for because he wasn’t even sure he could concentrate on anything but your messages. He had noted Jack giving him odd looks whilst they both got ready for training, giving him more space than usual as they moved around the flat (which was odd considering Jack was usually glued to his side and pissing him off whenever he got the chance). 
However, the overbearing older brother role didn’t completely disappear. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” 
“Yes, Jack.”
“You’re not sick or anything?”
“I’m literally fine.” 
“Because we can tell the trainers—”
“Oh my god, dude,” Luke groaned, sinking further into the passenger seat as he shot his brother a look. “I’m fine. Calm down. You sound like Quinn.” 
“Sorry for caring,” Jack retorted, his fingers tightening on the wheel before his shoulders sagged. “I’m your older brother and it’s your first year in the NHL. I just wanna make sure you’re doing alright, okay? The last thing I want is you having a shit rookie year.”
But the rest went unsaid. I don’t want you having a shit rookie year like I did.
Luke softened a little. “M’fine, promise. I’ll let you know when I need my big brother, okay?” 
Jack sighed, a small smile on his face. “Okay.”
“Now, can you please shut up so I can sleep until we reach the rink?” 
Jack snorted in response. 
Though the conversation seemed to settle the worries his older brother had, Luke knew the other boys on the team were giving him the same looks of concern. It wasn’t as though he was playing badly, it was just very clear to everyone on the team—players, coaches and trainers alike—that Luke was distracted. 
He had half the decency to be a little embarrassed when he overheard Jack reassure a few trainers that it was just rookie nerves. 
But he felt restless, like he couldn’t quite keep still or focus on one thing. He felt like there was a buzz resonating through his bones, making him painfully aware of his plans later tonight. It was like an anxiety settled at the pit of his stomach, constant and foreboding and eating away at him as the minutes slowly dragged on through the day. 
It was horrible and exhilirating in the weirdest possible way.
Luke had managed to make it through the rest of training, managed to avoid any stern talkings from the coach but unable to avoid the one from Nico in the locker room. It was sweet and awkward all at once, especially when the rest of the team were clearly listening in to make sure one of the new rookies were doing fine. The Devils were like a family and usually he would appreciate it. 
However, he wasn’t exactly going to dive into the fact he was unfocused because a pretty girl offered to take his virginity to his captain or the rest of the team. He didn’t even want to imagine how that would have played out. 
But it was sweet to know the team had his back, that they saw him as his own person rather than just Jack’s little brother who was tagging along.
Luke was relieved when you had mentioned him coming over to your place for your meeting later that day. Yet, what he failed to take into consideration was the fact his brother would still be a nosy shit on his whereabouts. 
“Where the fuck are you going?” 
Luke froze, keys gripped in his one hand and his phone in the other with your address already typed into Google Maps. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore his pounding heart as he turned to Jack with a (hopefully) nonchalant look on his face.
“Just going to hang out with some friends,” he replied vaguely with a shrug of his shoulders.
Jack paused, the spoonful of rice hovering just above his plate as he narrowed his eyes at Luke. “Is Nico hosting some rookie thing or something?”
“Uh no,” Luke cleared his throat.
Jack frowned. “Is there a team thing happening tonight that I forgot?” 
“No, uh,” Luke shuffled awkwardly, feeling like an interrogation spotlight was shining on him. “It’s nothing with the team.”
Jack raised his brows. “But you don’t have other friends outside the team.” 
Luke frowned. “Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t,” Jack retorted. “Unless you’re a part of a book club or something.” 
He shot his brother a confused look. “Why would that be the only reason I have friends outside of the team?”
“I don’t know, college and shit,” Jack answered like that explained something.
“You’re such a weirdo,” Luke grumbled before he turned on his heel, making his way towards the door again. 
“Are you at least gonna tell me when you’ll be back?” Jack called out to him, a hint of older brother overbearingness in his voice. 
“Not sure.” 
“I—” He heard Jack shuffle to stand up, his dinner now abandoned on the coffee table as he made his way over to Luke. The look of concern from earlier that morning was back on his face. “What dodgy shit are you up to that you can’t just tell me?” 
“Jack,” Luke groaned, his voice tilting towards whiny as he let out a huff of annoyance. “I’m just going out to see a friend. Nothing dodgy, I promise.”
Jack didn’t say anything at first, just letting a slow smile spread across his face.
He frowned. “What?” 
“Friend, singular,” Jack pointed out before he let out a bark of laughter, playfully punching his little brother’s arm. “Aw, little Lukey is sneaking out to hook up with a girl!”
His cheeks burned. “Shut up.”
“Fucking finally, I thought you were going celibate for your rookie year or something!” Jack continued to tease him. “Who is it? Do I know her? Oh my god, is it the girl from the party? Do you have a secret girlfriend?”
“I am leaving now!” Luke shoved him away, making a beeline for the door as Jack continued to cackle behind him. 
“Do I need to give you a curfew?” 
“Fuck off!” 
He could still hear Jack laughing when he slammed the door shut behind him.
His body felt like it was on autopilot once he got behind the wheel. He followed the instructions spoken through his GPS, kept his concentration on the road—on the journey—rather than the destination. He tried to pretend like he was just going to hang out at a friend’s, that he was back in Michigan going to one of his teammate’s houses he didn’t live with. 
It was fine. 
Everything was fine.
Except for the fact that once he reached your door, closed fist hovering over the wood, he felt like his body was buzzing too fast to keep up with and all the pent up anxiety over the day was about to make him explode. 
He didn’t even realise he had knocked until the door swung open and you stood on the other side, grinning at him like it was a normal Sunday evening. You were dressed cosy, casual even. Just a pair of leggings, a baggy shirt and some fluffy socks that had—ironically enough—cherries printed on them.
“You’re early,” you noted. 
Luke’s stomach dropped a little. “Oh shit, I’m sorry—”
“I like my men eager, you’re fine,” you said as you waved him off, unaware of the fact your words just made his body feel like it was on fire for a whole other reason as you grabbed his hand and dragged him inside. 
His eyes wandered over your apartment, taking in the small knick knacks that decorated the place. It was smaller than his and Jack’s apartment, but it felt more homely. His place had a habit of looking a little clinical, like a showroom they had moved into rather than an actual home. But between training and travelling and not really caring, neither he nor Jack had bothered to change it. 
But, looking around at the small details of your apartment as you led him towards your living room couch, Luke found it endearing that he could see small insights into your personality.
“You still like Coke, right?” 
His eyes snapped back to you, a light blush on his cheeks when he found you staring at him with intent. “Uh yeah, Coke is good.” 
He settled down on the seat, awkwardly perched on the edge whilst you curled up in the sport next to him with your feet tucked underneath him. He tried to swallow the ball in the back of his throat, eyes wandering over the room once again before they landed back on you. 
“Your place is really nice—”
“Tell me about hockey.” 
Luke blinked. And then blinked one more time before he remembered to speak.
“What?”
“Tell me about hockey,” you repeated. 
“You want to know about hockey?” He questioned, his brows furrowed together and suddenly the panic he felt moments ago was overwhelmed by his confusion. 
“Well, no, I don’t really know anything about it,” you admitted with a shrug. “But you’re so tense over there like you’re about to enter the Hunger Games or something, I thought talking about something you enjoy would help you relax.” 
Something in his chest stirred at your confession. “Oh.” 
“Just relax,” you said as you lightly pushed him back until he was no longer sat on the edge of the couch. However, Luke’s body didn’t seem to catch the hint, something that was very clear with how tense he still looked sitting next to you. “We aren’t going to do anything tonight,” you assured him, your hand dropping to his forearm to give it a small squeeze. 
He didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed. “We aren’t?”
You shook your head, a soft but cheeky smile on your lips. “You need to build up your confidence a little, to really feel comfortable with everything. There’s more to sex than just sleeping with someone.”
He blinked. “There is?”
“Yes,” you laughed, but it wasn’t directed at him. He didn’t feel dumb for asking you questions. “So just take a breath and relax. Now, hockey—what’s the big deal?” 
Luke couldn’t help but snort. “The big deal?”
“Yeah, why do you like it?” You asked. “I mean, you love it enough to make it your job.” 
Luke smiled and there was something less heavy in his laugh—but hockey always tended to have that power over him. He knew hockey. He lived for hockey. It was as calming as it was exhilarating. It was what his whole world revolved around since the day he was born. 
“I come from a big hockey family,” Luke told you. “I could skate before I could properly walk, to be honest. It’s just something that’s always…been there. I couldn’t imagine my life without it.” 
“Do you enjoy it?” 
Luke raised his brows in surprise. “No, I just do it to torture myself.”
“Okay, smart-ass,” you rolled your eyes at the boy, and he tried not to think about how endearing the action was. “I mean, you said it’s been in your life forever. Do you enjoy it or is it just familiar?”
There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation before he answered.
“I love it,” he replied honestly, sinking a little further into the couch as he turned his head to look at you. “It was always there but I also always sought it out, you know? I wanted hockey as much as hockey wanted me.” 
“Lucky thing you were good enough to go pro, huh?” You remarked, a teasing glint in your words. 
Luke’s lips twitched upwards. “Yeah, lucky me.”
“So, do you, like, fight people and shit?” 
He snorted, the noise a little surprising but welcomed nonetheless. “Yeah, sometimes.” 
“Damn, the two hockey videos I watched before you came weren’t lying then,” you mused. 
And, fuck, his chest was doing that funny-tightening thing again. 
“You watched some videos before I came?”
“Colour me curious,” you answered with a casual shrug of your shoulders.
He swallowed. “Did you like what you saw?” 
Your lips pulled upwards into a smirk. “Flirting with me now, Hughes?” 
In an instant, Luke’s cheeks instantly burned a red shade with a mix of embarrassment and self-consciousness washing over him. “I’m sorry about that—”
“I never said I didn’t like it,” you interrupted, watching as his eyes widened a little in surprise. But the colour remained on his cheeks. It was cute, if you were being honest with yourself.
“Oh?”
“You’re not a shy guy, Luke, I’ve seen the way you are on the ice. You just need to bring that confidence off the ice too,” you told him, shuffling a little closer to him until your knee was almost brushing his thigh. “Think of this…what we are doing…as your training.” 
“My training?” 
“Mhm,” you nodded as your palm landed on his thigh, right above his knee. He was so painfully aware of your hand, of the way your touch felt like it was burning through the fabric of his sweatpants to touch his skin. “Gonna help you go pro.” 
His eyes darted down to your hand before it snapped back to your face. “Cherry—” 
“Can I kiss you?” 
He blinked. “You’re asking me?” 
“It’s sexy to ask,” you told him, your thumb lightly rubbing a small line just above his knee. You shifted a bit closer, watching the way his eyelids fluttered slightly. “Consent is really, really sexy.” 
“Really sexy,” he repeated, eyes locked in on your lips. 
“Can I kiss you?” You asked again, squeezing his leg a little to emphasise your need for him to verbally answer. 
“Yeah,” he managed to mutter out, a slight crack in his voice but you didn’t seem to care as you closed the distance between you.
Your palm was soft and warm against his cheek, guiding his head until you pressed your lips against his. It was a soft kiss, almost sweet in a way. And maybe something about the tenderness of it all washed away the unease in his chest, that lingering anxiety that he had been smothered in since he woke up. It was like the kiss washed away the lingering concerns in his head, the ones that told him this was some twisted dream or malicious ploy.
You just wanted to help, you wanted him relaxed when he was with you. 
And Luke had half the mind to trust you would do just that after the initial kiss. 
Your thumb slightly swept along the high of his cheekbone, soft and reassuring as he sunk further into the kiss. He seemed happy to let you take control, to let you decide how fast or passionate it was. He seemed happy to just follow. 
“Better than hockey training?” You murmured against his lips between kisses, the light smacking noises a vague echo in his ear but he didn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed.
“Mhm,” he hummed as he ducked his head back down, eager to press his lips against yours again. 
“Impatient,” you teased but didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. “Feeling confident already, Hughes?” 
Luke could feel your smile against his lips. “Maybe.” 
“Good,” you stated simply and before he got the chance to realise what you were doing, before his brain had even fully processed you had asked him a question, your leg was thrown over his body and you were straddling his lap.
Luke pulled back a little, looking up at you with his cheeks flushed. “Oh.” 
“Remember, this is just your training,” you reassured the boy, though it was hard for him to focus on the words coming out of your mouth when your lips were red and kiss-swollen and probably a mirror image of his own. “Just practise, yeah?”
“Just practise,” he confirmed with a nod. 
“So practise,” you told him as you reached for his hands where they awkwardly hung at his side. You gripped his wrists, giving them a small squeeze before you rested them on your waist.
He swallowed. “Oh.” 
You raised your brows. “This good?” 
“Mhm,” he nodded.
“Luke,” you prompted until his glossy eyes found yours. “We can stop any time you want. Just say the word, okay?” 
“I don’t wanna stop,” he reassured you, his hands giving a testing squeeze on your waist. “Not right now, at least. Promise.” 
And when you smiled at him, he could have sworn his heart was about to beat right out of his chest. 
His chest was thudding with each racing beat, blood roaring in his ears and butterflies exploding in his fucking chest when you leaned down to kiss him again. It’s like his brain was locked in on you at this very moment, not a care or concept for the world beyond this apartment. It was just about you, you, you.
And then your hands were pushing through his hair, fingers tangled in his curls as you tugged his head back until the column of his neck was exposed to you. 
Luke was almost embarrassed of the whimpering noise that left his lips when you tugged on his curls, a dull but desirable pain coursing through his whole body before your lips explored his neck. His breathing was heavy, borderline panting as your teeth scraped along the sensitive spot just below his ear. And, fuck, he felt like his whole body was on fire. 
“Hmmm, pretty noises,” you murmured against his neck, wet and sloppy open-mouthed kisses pressed against his skin as his body squirmed beneath you. “You gonna keep making them for me, baby?”
He nodded.
“Yeah?” You nipped his skin lightly, almost teasingly, as his hips bucked up on instinct. “Keep moaning f’me, baby, let’s see what you like.”
His grip on your waist only tightened as you continued to explore his body, as you tried to find the spots that had him whining and panting beneath you. And just when Luke thought he had a hold on himself, when he could handle the way your hands felt in his hair and your lips on his neck, your hips slowly rolled down against his and he could feel a rush of pleasure race down his spine.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he choked out between broken moans, head thrown back against the back of the couch and eyes clenched shut. “Please. More.”
“You want more?” Your warm breath fanned against his cheek as you lifted your head, hooded eyes watching the way his face scrunched up in pleasure as you continued to rock against him. “Keep making those pretty noises, baby.” 
The whimper he let out made his cheeks and neck burn bright red. 
“Look at you,” you mused, the bulge in his sweatpants pressed against you as you continued to grind down on his lap. “Doing so well for me, telling me what you want.”
And it was too much. 
The constant stream of praise leaving your lips, the way your face was inches away from him—even if his eyes were shut—with your breath hot against his cheek. The way your hips rocked against his hard cock, the way it was straining beneath the boxers he was wearing. The way your fingers gave another experimental tug on his curls and he saw white. 
His grip on your waist was almost bruising with how tight it was, the way he held onto you as his hips bucked to meet your thrusts, the way your name left his lips on a loop as a hot flush of pleasure washed over his body, as you guided him through it. 
And once his brain had caught up—once he was sure his heart wasn’t going to jump out of his chest—he was painfully aware of the sticky mess in his sweatpants. 
“Oh my god,” he muttered, his whole body burning with embarrassment as he looked up at you. “I am so sorry—” 
“For what?” 
“I—” His eyes fell shut, his body wanting nothing more than to curl in on himself. “I’m sorry, that was embarrassing.” 
You frowned. “What was? The fact you came?” 
His stomach twisted a little.
“Luke,” you murmured, and he could feel your hands cupping his warm cheeks but he didn’t have the courage to open his eyes just yet. “If I didn’t want you to come, I wouldn’t have been grinding on your dick like that.” 
He finally looked at you, but the hot shame remained. “You didn’t even…” 
“Get off?” You supplied and he looked sheepish as he nodded. “I can still enjoy something and find it hot without getting off, Hughes.”
His brows furrowed together. “I thought the whole point was that you were teaching me how to make you feel good. For womankind.” 
You snorted, grinning down at the boy. “That doesn’t mean you can’t get off too.”
Luke’s lips parted with a silent ‘oh’.
“I’ll grab you some sweatpants to change into,” you told him as you shifted off his lap, looking down at his flushed cheeks and dazed eyes. “You’re a good student, Hughes.”
He raised his brows. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you grinned back at him, and his chest did that funny thing again. “And I wasn’t lying. You make pretty noises. I like my boys vocal.” 
And Luke was thankful you disappeared down the corridor after that, saving him from even attempting to come up with a response. 
And he was shocked that once he cleaned up as best he could in your bathroom, you patted the spot next to you on the couch and told him to choose a movie whilst you ordered in some food. 
It was almost laughable to think about how anxious he had been all day, only to lead up to him sharing a pizza with you with some old Jim Carey comedy playing in the background like you two really were just friends. Like you were just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. Like you hadn’t just made him come in his pants like he was some wound up teenage boy. 
It made his head spin, in a good way. 
And when he was dragging his feet through the front door of his apartment a little after midnight, there was a voice in the back of his head that was telling him this was risky, that he shouldn’t have felt so giddy or jovial after he had seen you. 
You were just training him, helping him. You were just his friend. 
But, for right now, Luke was happy to ignore the logical voice in the back of his head and instead focus on the fact that maybe—just fucking maybe—you were right and this whole virginity thing was far more bigged up in his head than he realised. 
You were his friend. And he knew you were just his friend. 
Who cares if his body took a little longer to remember than his brain did?
.
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frozenrogue89 · 8 months
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I Don't Want to be Great, I Wanna be Me.
So we all know the classic ‘JL meets Phantom through summoning’ prompt, and we usually get Danny “High King, Savior of Worlds, Eldritch, Cryptid, Ancient, No Shits Given, Chaos Gremlin” Fenton making an appearance, cool and confident, running circles around the JL. But what if, this High King they summoned, just… wasn’t.
The Justice League was prepared for anything, with the latest BBG threatening the world they had to take drastic measures. The JL Dark managed to scrounge up the summoning spell they… “liberated” from a cult group a couple months back. At first the JL was against the thought of summoning another highly powerful unknown, but with extensive research, Constantine and various others vouching for this so-called “King Phantom'' , and no option left, well, their hands were tied. Said to be the vanquisher of the previous Tyrant of the throne, Savior of the Infinite Realms, thousands of years old, infinitely powerful, infinitely old, and some smaller rumors claimed, infinitely kind. Phantom is said to be extremely protective of humans (something they were banking on),  loyal to its subjects, and said to rarely get angry (yeah right). A terrifying creature, tall and confident in its destructive power.
So yes, the League was prepared. They gathered as many members as they could spare for this meeting, everyone ready for a fight, but praying for none. The Big Three stepped forward while the rest hung back. Constantine and the Dark members start chanting, beginning the ritual.
The chanting ends. The silence hangs. Bodies still. 
Then, a flash from the hieroglyphs on the ground and an explosion of wind with no origin, a blinding light originating from the summoning circle grows in strength, letting out a vibrating hum that causes Superman to cover his ears and wince. The hum starts shaking the ground and the light condenses into itself, revealing the silhouette of an object. 
The wind stops. The light is gone, the vibration a memory. Everything is as it is before, with one exception.
Wonder Woman, wasting no time, straightens, “High King Phantom, Ruler of the infinite Realms, We are the Justice league, We ask your help in vanquishing The BBG, it threatens the lives of all those who live…” Her eyes widened as what stood before her.
This… this didn’t look like a High King, Vanquisher of Pariah Dark. This little thing did not give any indication of confidence, power, or age… it looked… young. The only thing terrifying about this creature is the size of bags under his eyes. Drowning in soft clothes, hunched over, looking utterly defeated, Nothing like they expected. Diana would almost mistake it if for a human child if not for the glowing eyes, fangs, and slight aura it gave off. But this, this was no King… Is- are those tears in its eyes?!
____________
Danny has not been having a good day. Or week. Or month, or- anything really. It seems like dying was only the beginning of his problems. No, scratch that, this all started with his parents’ damn obsession with ghosts. Danny swore they were part ghost too with their utter infatuation with all things Ecto. If only they hadn’t tried to access the ghost zone, if only Vlad hadn’t been involved to become Danny’s biggest nightmare, if only his parents gave up their research once they had kids, if only he didn’t walk in that stupid portal to impress his friends. 
If only he had stayed dead.
If only he didn’t gain powers, then he wouldn’t be stuck in this mess. 
Danny scowled to himself and let himself flop onto his bed. He’s been spending the last couple weeks cycling through this whole rogue gallery, TWICE! Plus fighting a handful of random ghosts who thought they could take on the ‘Ghost King’ (Pariah’s evil reign and thousand year slumber didn’t help either with all the paperwork that’s left for Danny.) Running from the GIW, his parents, and Val as usual, (Ghost Scum, 
Dealing with ‘Mayor’ Vlad’s Evil Plan of the Week -Danny’s powers were still on the fritz after that encounter, painful, was a word for it- Not to mention school, between Dash being Dash, forgetting his science homework, missing a test because of Skulker, Lancer and his threats of, “Black Beauty Fenton! If your grades keep dropping you’ll spend the rest of the year in detention! With ME!” and now his teachers (and Jazz) are talking to him about college? He’s still a sophomore, give him a break! It isn’t Danny’s fault the whole universe is apparently out to get him.
The real cherry on top of this whole thing was the recent ‘summonings’. No thanks to the Fruit Loop and his meddling, with Jack Fenton unknowingly helping him, again. A nice little instruction booklet called, “How to Summon the Ghost King, Made Easy!” got out onto the internet and the world, free for any psycho to speed dial Danny away from his life. At various points in the last month Danny has been forcibly -and if he was honest, painfully- ripped from anything he’s been doing and dumped smack dab into the center of various cults’ plans, usually they wanted power, money, or world domination. His saving grace was the process of summoning forced him to transform or no identity reveals, thank The Ancients. 
Sam and Tucker have been a godsend in getting the Booklet wiped from the internet, Danny would be lost without them. He would’ve fallen apart the first week into his powers if not for them. Who knew watching your friend half dying created lasting relationships? They really kept him going and he trusts them with his life, really he does.
But Danny would never tell them about some of the things he’s seen getting summoned, he couldn’t do that to them. The various groups of psychos seemed to think Danny was more likely to listen to them if they offered sacrifices.. human sacrifices. Some nights he couldn’t stop smelling blood and incense, couldn’t get those images out of his mind. He hated himself for keeping track, and hated himself for not wanting to. 15. 15 people, so far just because some handful of lunatics wanted some money or something equally stupid like that. Danny was 15, that’s one whole human being, for every year he was alive, one of them was even younger th- she was just- Danny couldn’t- she was- so small…
Pulling his blankets over his head, Danny took measured breaths against the tightness in his throat. It’s Not fair. It’s not. He didn’t ask for this. He didn’t want to be King of the undead, he’s just a kid himself isn’t he? It was just an accident turning on the portal. He didn’t mean to. Why is he stuck fixing everything? Can't he just be a normal kid? Go to school, get good grades, become an astronaut? He’s so completely out of his depth, who is he kidding, it’s just a matter of time before he screws up again and someone gets hurt, or worse. He's trying, though, he is. He tries so hard to be good, to do good. To not turn into Dan.
‘Stop it, Danny. Now’s not the time for bad thoughts.’ This is the first time Danny’s had a chance to sleep in two days, his parents are out and left the home defenses are down, Jazz is studying at the library, Sam and Tucker are playing Doom while keeping an eye on ecto readings around town. He has maybe 4 blissful hours to spend in dream land. He sighed and sunk into his pillow trying to blank out his thoughts before he could spiral again.
A tightening in the chest, and eyes snap open, ‘NO! NO! Please not now!’ is all Danny manages to think before the unfortunately familiar sensation of space displacement takes hold. His transformation is forced on him as he feels himself fall apart and get put back together simultaneously.
‘Just a couple hours rest, is tHAT SO MUCH TO ASK!!??’ The anger leaves before it can fully form due to the pure exhaustion that washed over his ectofied bones and straight to his core. It feels strained, like glass under pressure, not knowing if the slightest change will shatter him. He slowly gets his bearings and- oh, this almost seems worse than a regular cult summoning. At least there’s not a dead body. 
It’s the Justice League, and Wonder Woman is talking to him. And Danny, Danny can’t. He can’t. He doesn’t know if they want to trap him, kill him, experiment… if the GIW got their claws into the JL… Danny can’t anymore, He can practically feel his core splintering into jagged gut- wrecking pieces. He just wants to rest, to feel safe, for just a little while. Why can’t he?
Throat burning and eyes watering, Danny realizes he can do something, just one thing. It’s the only thing left that he can do. Something he hasn’t done for a long time, ever since dying.
Danny starts crying.
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moon7jay · 6 months
Note
i keep thinking abt noncon w sunghoon like just imagine….
THIS. like idk but something about being helpless under sunghoon would fix me😩. Sorry it took so long anon but here u go!
Forced to take him (p.sh)
🫴Read part 2 here
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Warnings : MINORS DNI, non-con, squirting, creampie, cheating, I guess that's it? , mentions of the word "RAPE"
It's non consensual so please if u are not comfy with it, DO NOT READ.
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Your sister's boyfriend was weird to say the least. The first time your sister brought him to your shared apartment was last month and ever since then he has made it his second home. See you wouldn't mind this home invasion if only he didn't glare at you with the most intensity u have ever seen someone direct towards u everytime u were in his vicinity. Dead dark eyes following your every move as u pranced around the house.
Your sister's boyfriend was definitely weird, but you had never sensed any sort of danger from him, despite the hostile stares now and then, you never thought he could cause any real harm to u. Not until..
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The first time it happened, you were in the kitchen. feeling a presence looming behind your back as u made coffee "lana why r u hovering" u spoke thinking it was your sister but a response never came. In mild curiosity u turned around and your breath hitched when your eyes met his dark dead ones. He was too close, way too close for it to be appropriate.
"W-what do u want? " U asked his tall figure hovering over you, looking anywhere but his eyes, they made u so nervous, like a prey.
He moved more closer to u, this made u look into his eyes, to assess his intentions but the dark glare that he was giving u made u tense up and press your back to the kitchen counter.
You were not expecting his big hands to wrap around your mid section, a gasp escaping your lips when he squeezed your mid section as if spanning your waist and stomach
"So small" he whispered as if in a trance. Your eyes widened but u were frozen, unable to move or speak, something told u that if u upset him, u could end up bloody on the ground. Tears gathered at your waterline, threatening to fall from your eyes as he kept squeezing more and more.
"I'll have a field day forcing myself inside u" he whispered , his eyes not leaving what he was doing with his hands
The tears finally fell at his words and your mouth gaped like a fish, wanting to say something, scream, anything, wild eyes looked up at your face and all breath left your lungs when he smiled at u in an almost maniacal way
"So pretty when u cry aren't u, it drives me crazy, You drive me crazy" he said moving in to lick your tears, making u shudder and close ur eyes, trying to move your face away from him but a large hand came up to hold the back of your neck to keep u in place and u squeaked when his other hand started groping your ass.
You were full on sobbing now as he moved his tongue to your neck and collar bones, your hands holding on to the edges of the kitchen counter in a deathly grip. His teeth punctured your delicate skin making a pained cry leave your lips and that seemed to catch his attention as he stopped doing what he was doing and stepped back all of a sudden. He stared carefully at your heaving form before walking out of the kitchen like it was a normal Tuesday.
As soon as he was out of sight, your knees buckled and you fell on the kitchen floor, sobbing and trying to catch your breath.
Your sister's boyfriend was weird. And you should have told your sister about it, you should have confronted him, you should have taken his words more seriously, you should have sensed the impending danger, you should have... But you didn't.
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The next time it happened, u had just gotten home from classes, hearing weird noises in the living room, your feet moved towards it.
Nothing could have prepared u for the sight in front of you. Your sister was spread open on the couch as her boyfriend fucked into her, her legs over his shoulders. A gasp escaped your lips which made sunghoon and your sister look at you. Your sister started pushing sunghoon out of her to apologize to u but sunghoon's thrusts only got harder as his eyes met yours, your sister struggling underneath him, telling him to stop, but all u could hear was static as his expression morphed into one of pleasure as he held eye contact with you, smiling lewdly at you as he came inside your sister. You turned on your heel and ran up to your room, locking it and leaning against the door to catch your breath.
What the fuck was that.
Outside, you could hear your sister yelling at him but the next second you could hear her moans of pleasure again.
Your sister's boyfriend was so weird.
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The sound of your door closing woke u up. Sitting abruptly to look around your darkened room.
"lana is that you? " you asked as u turned to ur bedside to turn the lamp on.
Your eyes met his dark ones and your palms started sweating. Sunghoon stood at the edge of your bed, scanning your skimpily dressed body like a predator. Before you could say anything, he started to unbutton his shirt
"What-what the fuck do u think you're doing? " your voice shook as you asked him
"fucking you" Is what the reply came.
"You c- can't" tears started to gather in your eyes again, why were you so scared of him??
"I'll scream, lana will find out, she'll kick you out" You tried threatening him confidently as he unbuckled his belt, his naked chest on display, you averted your eyes.
"she's passed out baby, some sleeping pills is all it takes" he whispered climbing up on the bed.
Your head could not register his words. He drugged your sister.
He drugged your sister to rape you.
You screamed as he grabbed your legs to bring you closer to him as he hovered over your body. His hands trapping you under him as you thrashed and hit him to let go. You did not see the slap coming, but your throbbing lip was enough to make u stare at him with wide eyes, ceasing all your movements.
"I can bleed you to death u know" He whispered scarily calm. His hand moving behind his jeans to pull out a shiny blade. Tears started falling from your eyes as you whimpered in fear of your life. Something in his crazed eyes told u that he had done this before. This wasn't his first time. Not his first time Raping someone. Not his first time Killing someone.
"Please... " u whispered, your lips trembling and bleeding from his strike.
He pressed the cold blade to your throat
"What's it gonna be baby? Want me to slit your throat so I can fuck you to death? or will u let me fuck your warm body while you're still alive? " He asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect
"Tell me. Dead or alive? "
"A-alive" u croaked, your body starting to shut down from the terror, the blade pressed to your throat making you numb to everything else.
He smiled and tsked in a disappointed way
"Damn u didn't fight much, was looking forward to some blood bath as we fuck" He chuckled and kept the blade back inside the back pocket of his jeans.
Hands started to grope your body, your night gown torn apart within seconds. You layed back and stared at the ceiling, having given up in trying to stop what was about to happen.
You were a virgin, you had been saving yourself for the love of your life. Park Jay. The smartest and kindest boy in your class. You had recently started flirting with him, letting him know you were intrested. You had thought countless times of this moment. But not like this.
Curious and rough hands squeezed your breasts making your breath get heavy, this was painful. His breathing was laboured too but for entirely different reasons than yours.
He leaned over you to press his chest to your tits. "Press them up against me cmon, need to feel them " He whispered in anticipation, you arched your back to do what he said, your nipples rubbing against his own, a hiss of pleasure leaving his teeth "good girl, such a good fuck toy for me"
His hands spread your legs apart and he quickly undid his jeans, just enough to fish out his hard cock. You prepared yourself for penetration, clutching onto your sheets as you watched him jerk himself off.
His teeth biting his lower lip as he stared lewdly at your spread and naked body
"Such a pretty fuck hole" He whispered before hastily slotting himself between your legs, hands grabbing your midsection like he did that day and the next thing you feel is an excruciating pain. A pain so intense as he forces his way inside of you. Your walls are dry but he doesn't even care, curses and whines falling from his lips and he bottoms out in you, tearing your hymen. You start to sob uncontrollably "s-stop please" U croak between sobs but it only causes him to grind more into u
"Beg more for me baby, beg me to stop" He grunts with a hard thrust inside you.
He rests his forehead against yours,hands resting beside your head, tongue darting out to lick your tears once again
"Gonna tear ur pussy so good"
"Like fucking virgins so much" He whispered and pulled all the way out to thrust back in, hitting your cervix in a painful way. A pained scream ripped out of you and he smiled in sick satisfaction. Soon his expression morphed into one of wild desire and pleasure as he kept thrusting inside of you, your body started secreting fluids which made his experience all the more pleasurable and he gritted his teeth at your tight walls
"you like being raped like this don't you? Keep fucking my dick just like that"
"Fuck it baby oh yeah, god so tight"
"It's fun isn't it? Feels so good doesn't it? Pleasure me come on, make me relieve my lust"
His words sound static to your ears as you come on his cock, your body betraying u once again, sobbing continuously, you keep taking his assault.
He groans like an animal when u dig your nails in his back, begging him to stop
"Yeah baby? Want me to stop? " His thrusts getting wilder, pounding your cervix
"ask me to stop, scream for me to stop baby, makes me so hard when u beg "
His dick keeps dragging against your walls in the mix of both pain and pleasure, his hands groping your body as he unleashes his inner animal to fuck into u however he wants, he's on his third orgasm but his dick is still hard in you
"You're gonna make me cum , I'm not the only one enjoying this rape yeah baby? Fuck yeah, squeezing around me so good"
You scream hard at a particular thrust and he laughs while panting
"Oh yeah? "
"Just like that? "
"fuck fuck fuck" he gasps as he comes inside your wet heat again. Fucking his come back inside of your leaking hole, overstimulating your body, your lower region feeling numb, your mind slipping in and out of consciousness.
You felt him pulling out, hissing as he observed your leaking and abused hole
"Fuck yeah" He breathed, turning your body around and mounting you again, thrusting deep inside of you, your face squished against your pillows as he breeds you from behind.
It's animalistic, the way he fucks you.
"Wanna keep it in u forever,can't stop, I can't stop"
"Pussy So good oh fuck"
He groaned, digging his teeth at the back of your neck, you were sure u were bleeding.
Your consciousness left u somewhere in the middle of his animalistic panting and grunts.
When u came to, u found yourself in a mating press, his face right above yours as he fucked u folded in half
"Ah u're awake sunshine, raping u so good yeah? "
He breathes and licks your lower lip. His hips moving relentlessly, grinding into u at a slow pace now
"Open " He panted and as if on autopilot, all strength leaving your body, u open your mouth
He spits in it "swallow" He says and u do. He curses and bites your lower lip as his thrusts become erratic
"Mhmnn fuck yeah, one more oh yeah"
He grunts as he fucks his cum into you. Making u squirt all over him.
His mouth lapping on your pussy is all u feel before u drift into unconsciousness.
Your sister's boyfriend is so weird.
1K notes · View notes
welcometomyoasis · 15 days
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Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu headcanons
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Synopsis: A series of headcanons in which Mingyu is a firefighter, but also your boyfriend. Mingyu x gn! reader | firefighter au, fluff | 1.6k words | warnings: fires, nudity (Mingyu goes shirtless more than once), suggestive, injuries (cat scratches and bruises), food, fear of heights A/n: a sequel to this fic, but it can be read as a standalone. I also got carried away… look at these pictures... you all can suffer with me. original credits to @\gyulty  
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🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who is a firefighter, and also your hot, sexy boyfriend.
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who always leaves his grubby uniforms by the door so the house is always clean. The grime from his job should not dirty the house. Of course, that does mean he’s often stripping by the door into his black, fitted, singlet or he’s just walking around the house shirtless. Not that you mind. He’s sculpted like those statues of greek gods. He’s a tease. He knows you like it too. He’ll walk around, all sweaty from his work, and then he’ll stretch to flex all his muscles. He likes the way you’ll flush, gulp and then quickly avert your eyes. Nothing you haven’t seen before and you still react in the way that drives him insane. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who works out with you by his side. He needs to be in peak physical condition. I mean, his job literally consists of him bashing through doors and rescuing people from burning buildings (and cats stuck on trees). He does most of the training at work, but when he’s at home, he still likes to do some weights, sit ups, or pushups. He’ll let you watch as he does the weights. Sit ups or push ups are also the best. He’ll get you to hold his feet down and he will kiss you every time he completes a sit up. He’ll also get you to press against his back/ sit on his back as he does push ups. Hey! If he has to carry people down burning buildings, you can do it, regardless of how much you weigh. Here’s the fun part. You love the way his biceps will flex. You get to watch his muscles flex and tense and then relax. Bonus, if there’s a stray trickle of sweat down his veiny arms. Mingyu just loves to fluster you. 100% will ask if you want to shower with him after. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who despite being the biggest tease there is, is also the cutest, most adorable puppy of a boyfriend ever. He felt bad when he moved in with you at first. His working hours are all so off and he could be called in at any time. He doesn’t like that you now have to adjust your schedule around him. But you tell him not to worry his pretty little head. He’s a big, strong firefighter who literally goes around saving people and cats! You would gladly adjust your schedule to suit his. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who needs sleep before his long shifts but will wake up an hour earlier than necessary so he can prepare his meals with you. He doesn’t want you to have to do all that by yourself. While the firehouse does have food, nothing will ever be as good as a home cooked meal by his s/o. Of course, sometimes he is still half asleep so he just wraps you in a back hug as you potter around the kitchen making his food. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who begins to sulk as soon as he knows he needs to get ready. He hates having to go for his shifts because they can sometimes last up to 48 hours. He clings to you so much he’s practically attached to you. He’s going to miss you. Cuddles and kisses are a must before he leaves. Hey, he doesn’t make the rules. And seriously, even if you give him all the attention in the world, he still pouts, sulks, and whines so much before he goes that you think he’s more of a puppy than a big, strong firefighter. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who continues to sulk all the way to the firehouse. He does text you selfies of himself sulking when he arrives. But he perks up immediately and gets right down to work when you reply him with a cute selfie of your own captioned “Fighting!” He’s going to do his best for you. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who starts his routine around the firehouse by checking his uniform, the equipment etc. He also checks his schedule to see who he is working with and what he’s in charge of that day. He narrows his eyes at seungcheol who just shrugs nonchalantly when mingyu realises he’s on cat duty again. Seriously? Cat duty? That’s the fourth time in a row… He begins to suspect jeonghan was on duty. The latter probably switched their schedules because jeonghan refuses to let a cat scratch his perfectly sculpted face. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who sighs and accepts his fate. And he’s soon called out to rescue a little orange cat from the top of a tree at the park. He’s gritting his teeth and trying not to break out into a sweat as he climbs to the top of the ladder. He smiles a little at the cat. The cat just looks at him. Mingyu swears that cat is evil because it begins screeching and hissing at mingyu. Then it just jumps off and lands perfectly on the grass. Now, Mingyu is stuck at the top of the ladder clutching his heart out. To think, the small cat scared the big, strong firefighter. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who needs to be coaxed down the ladder by his fellow firefighter. Dino is just shaking his head. Dino tries to coo at Mingyu. It doesn’t work. Dino tries pspspspspspssing at Mingyu. It also doesn’t work. Dino threatens Mingyu. It doesn’t work. Mingyu just seems to be clutching the ladder harder. Like is this seriously the firefighter of the year? This happens every single time Mingyu needs to be on a ladder in a situation that isn’t a real fire or a training exercise.
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who only comes down the ladder when Dino calls you for the upteenth time. Dino is in disbelief. All you needed to do was say that you missed Mingyu and that you would give him a reward for coming down the ladder. Dino tried everything? Then, Dino’s face scrunches in disgust. EWW. what kind of reward were you talking about? 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who stares at Dino in confusion. Reward? You make great chocolate chip cookies… 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who smacks Dino for being dirty minded, though Mingyu’s face is flushed at the thought of you giving him a different kind of reward. Ahem… anyway moving on…
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who gets excited when you make a trip to the firehouse. He’s showing you around (purposefully keeping you away from Dino), and showing you off to his co-workers. Jeonghan was convinced Mingyu made you up after inhaling too much smoke from a previous fire. Mingyu sticks his tongue out at Jeonghan when you happily introduce yourself to everyone. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who lets you play with the fireman’s pole. He lets you go up and down as many times as you want. Seungcheol just lets Mingyu do what he wants (as an apology for letting Jeonghan switch assignments with Mingyu… i mean, seungcheol can’t say no to jeonghan so this is all he can do to appease Mingyu). 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who suddenly gets called out for a job. It’s a real fire this time. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who kisses you so passionately in front of the others because this is dangerous and he’s trying to reassure you that he’ll be fine. You have to stand aside to let the rest of them get suited up, but Mingyu keeps eye contact with you until you can’t see him in the firetruck anymore. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who manages to complete the job safely. Now, all he wants to do is go home back into your arms. He returns to the firehouse only to see you seated at the entrance, all tensed up and rubbing your hands together nervously. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who throws his equipment to Dino (who doesn’t protest) and rushes into your outstretched arms. He hugs you so so tightly, not wanting to let you go. He hopes you don’t mind that he’s all grubby, dirty, and that he reeks of smoke. You don’t. He should stop worrying. All you cared about was the safety of your lover. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who whisks you up in his strong arms and takes you home once he’s able to clock out. It doesn’t matter how tired he is or how desperately he needs a shower. He’s going to take care of you first. It’s scary for you no matter how many times he’s done this. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who hugs you closer that night, whispering soft words of reassurance and “I love you” into your ear. He cradles you to sleep, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. He sighs in regret because he worries you, but if you were awake you would smack him for even thinking that way. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who settles down next to you, drifting off to the rhythmic motions of your breathing. He wonders why and how he ended up with someone as perfect and understanding as you. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu whose last thought before he finally falls asleep is “I should put a ring on their finger…” 🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who maybe becomes your hot, sexy, firefighter husband! Mingyu soon?
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