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#they told me to walk of a cliff
caruliaa · 2 years
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did i tell u guys abt when once i was singing matildas part in miracle to myself when hanging out with my sibling and cousins and when i got to the "that kids like me should be against the law" bit my sibling said "i wish you were against the law" 😭
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nerdhappenings · 10 months
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Aight, let's be honest...
If I was in Hogwarts at the time Voldemort looked like THIS
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I'd be a Death Eater, too.
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koko2unite · 11 months
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I just tried FFXI. I can't believe people lived like that
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leejihoonownsmyheart · 4 months
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A FINE MAN ASKED YOU AT A WEDDING WHATS THE TIME??? What diD YOU SAY TO HIM? ITS TIME TO DANCE WITH ME 😉 jk idk what you're supposed to do at a wedding no wonder I'm single af - 💎💎💎
HE WAS IOWA 20-SOMETHING YEAR OLD WHITE MAN CUTE. BUT HE WAS ALSO VERY MUSCLEY CAUSE HE PLAYS BASEBALL SO I WAS MOSTLY SCARED OF HIM
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gyuswhore · 2 months
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Grease (the tragedy)
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“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.”
jeon wonwoo x reader
word count: 5.8k
warnings: smut [minors DNI], fluff, angst, mechanic!wonu, annoyances to lovers, blind date gone wrong but then gone right, kissing, clit stuff, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking (oop), this all happens at a desk LMAO, title is a what I thought was a funny spin on how people say "grease (the musical)"....has nothing to do with the musical though but lots to do with actual grease!!!
synopsis: In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go.
[a/n]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE CAMOTHY @highvern everyone go say happy birthday to cam or ill appear in your room at night 🔫 anygays HAVE FUN READING THIS I hope this is all the sexy wonu content you wanted, I cant wait for your reaction hehehhehe
and also bigbigbigbig thank you to jessifer @the-boy-meets-evil for proofing this for me!!! ily heh
and and to everyone reading this who is not cam, I hope you enjoy reading mechanic!wonu as much as I liked writing him heheh PLS REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND TELL ME UR THOTS it could be in the tags, replies, an ask literally anything!!!! id love to hear what you guys think!!!!
masterlist
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 [You]: do you think he died on the way [Liv]: hes still not there??? [You]: what do you think????? [Liv]: let me ask Amelia [You]: dont bother [You]: he can show up whenever he wants im leaving in 5 [Liv]: you promised you’d sit thru this!! [You]: sit thru what? an empty seat across from me???
Liv doesn’t respond immediately, and you immediately know she’s buggered off to ask her cousin why your date still wasn’t here. 
It’s not like you couldn’t have asked him yourself, the sparse textbox sitting just under Liv’s contact. You open it to inspect the contents. 
[liv’s cousin’s something]: Amelia gave me your number [liv’s cousin’s something]: friday night at the sage&salt at 7  [liv’s cousin’s something]: is that okay [You]: uh hey [You]: yeah that’s fine
Today 7:20 PM
[You]: im here?
The first thread of texts were enough to make you feel like this was some cold business meeting instead of a date, knowing wherever this would lead would be either the city dump or off a cliff. Liv was hearing none of it, taking the guilt tripping route, saying she’d already committed and her cousin was irritating enough even without a scuffle.
So when Friday evening came around you’d pulled on the first dress your fingers could find, took all of ten minutes fighting with your makeup to make it look like you did something and left the house with zero expectations. 
Despite that, as you see a man walk into the establishment dressed like he’d gotten into a fight with a squid and a paper shredder, you feel the stone in your chest tank into the abyss. Zero expectations, and he’s somehow managed to strike out anyway. 
The jacket looks like he’s put it on as a weak cover for the grime stains on his shirt and trousers, a couple jet black splatters across the outfit to really pull the whole thing together. It’s not like he looked homeless or anything, his face surprisingly handsome with his hair pushed away from his forehead. Although he remains looking like he’d been playing football in some neighbourhood parking lot before remembering he had an adult appointment too. 
You’d never seen the man in your life, but your gut told you this was the shit texter who’d kept you waiting for nearly an hour. He seems to notice too, eyes locking from across the restaurant as the waitress leads him to your table. 
“Wonwoo,” you greet with a difficult smile, half sure it came out as a grimace. “Right?”
“Yeah,” he huffs as he practically slams back down on the chair, and you wonder for a moment how the legs didn’t give out. He says your name and you nod. “Sorry I’m late, I got a call in the parking lot.”
He’s been in the parking lot this entire time?!
It’s like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, yet somehow needing to give him a shaky reply anyway. 
“O–oh, I see.”
The waitress saves you from spitting in his face when she asks if you were ready to order. 
Dinner was off the table, as you discussed with Liv who forwarded it to her cousin to her–whoever it was that set up this god awful date–and agreed on dessert and perhaps a drink. 
“I’ll have the chocolate cake,” you request in an attempt to make this somewhat better. You consider for a moment before asking for a drink as well, “And a dry gin martini, please.”
“Um,” he staggers as he barely skims the menu, ultimately flipping it closed. “I’ll have the same, I guess.”
Deep voice. You might’ve liked that if you weren’t already so peeved. 
The waitress disappears with the menus, leaving you two alone for the first time. 
“So,” you start with an exhale. “How do you know Amelia?”
“Her husband.”
“I see.”
Silence. 
“How do you know her husband?”
He sighs like this is all inconveniencing him, and it irks you to an irrespective degree. Like you wanted to be here either. 
“He brings his car to the workshop alot, became friends somewhere along the line.”
“Workshop?”
He looks a little startled, cocking his head to the side. “I’m a mechanic? Did Olivia–was it–not tell you?”
“No, she didn’t.”
It’s silent yet again as the man across from you refuses to elaborate. You curse as you ask him a follow up question. If there was anything you hated more than shouldering a dead conversation, it was sitting through an awkward silence. 
One hour. You’d sit through this for one more hour and then you’d leave. 
“What kind of cars do you work on?”
“Expensive ones,” he answers. You might’ve kicked yourself if he’d ended it at that, but he continues with a purse of his lips. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it. Vintage pieces too.”
“Have I heard of it?”
“The cars?”
“No, I mean,” you let out a breath. “Your workshop.”
“Jeon Motors, just a couple streets down actually.”
You did know what he was talking about, not expecting to recognise it through the empty question, passing by it on multiple occasions in this part of the city.
“Oh, I’ve seen it a few times.”
“Yeah, we’ve been there for a while.”
“Family business?”
“Uh–sort of.” 
“Okay,” you sigh in an irritated laugh. This was going to be a very difficult hour. “Keep that to yourself too.”
“Is there a problem?”
Just as you lift your eyes to lock with his, a ready yes, there is actually a problem on your tongue, there’s an intrusion. 
“Here are your chocolate cakes,” the waitress places the cakes down, and then the drinks. “And your dry gin martinis. Do you guys need anything else?” By the time the waitress is gone you’ve somewhat forced yourself to put that sudden surge of flames out, to a degree at least. 
“Okay,” he sighs, grabbing his glass and downing nearly half the contents. He emerges, wiping a bit of a spill from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get this out of the way.”
“Hm?” He’s speaking to you with a very weird surge of intensity, and it confuses you.
“Neither of us wanna be here. You’re clearly trying to be hospitable but I’d really rather you not, especially when we’re both doing this to get our respective ticks off our hides.”
There isn’t much you can do but stare at him. 
“Have I misjudged your advances?” he asks over his glass, sharp eyes piercing. 
“No!” you yelp, reaching for your drink yourself, taking big sips only to emerge sputtering and heaving. 
Your date looks like he’s rising out of his chair when you raise a hand to stop him. 
“No,” you repeat, less jumpy this time. “I guess we could’ve cleared that out from before.”
Did he…snort?
“Sorry.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he composes himself. 
“What?” you ask, remaining annoyed as ever. 
“Nothing.”
That does it. You slam your now empty glass down on the table, slipping your fork out of the napkin a little forcefully, the metal glinting in the light of the restaurant. You dig into a corner of the cake and shove it in your mouth. 
If he was gonna be rude, you could be too. 
“I don’t know about hospitable.” You swallow. “But I assumed not being an ass was kind of an unwritten rule for any situation really. Including the ones you’d rather not be in.”
Wonwoo stares at you with a blank face, his cake untouched. “I’m being an ass. My laugh couldn’t have offended you that much.”
“So you did pick that up,” you comment. “With the way this conversation’s going I would’ve thought it flew right over your engine.”
“I’d argue your laugh was the least offensive thing you’ve done tonight.” You plunge your fork into your cake again. “But clearly we’re in different realms of etiquette.”
Your eyes meet the rough stains on his attire, and then his own that bore into yours like a challenge. The cake isn’t too sweet, rich just the right amount and texturally sound. Maybe something good did come out of this fiasco. 
“Okay fine,” he announces, sitting up straighter. “I apologise.”
“For laughing?”
“And for being obscenely late.”
“And?”
“And…” he genuinely looks like he’s struggling to figure it out, but catches your eyes flickering to his tattered and stained outfit. “And for my entirely inappropriate dressing sense. You’ll have to forgive me for that one, oil and grime are my spoils of war.”
“Wear it like a badge, mister mechanic, but perhaps somewhere it’s appreciated.” 
Wonwoo has already finished his drink, his cake remaining untouched. “You’re quite adamant on disliking me.”
“And you’re quite adamant on being a horrid conversationalist.”
The corners of his mouth lift the slightest bit. Opening his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Cars don’t talk? Or perhaps, machines are easier to understand?”
“More like I don’t care to be personable.”
“That can’t be good for business.”
“The cars speak for themselves.”
He’s a weird one. Even more so when he offers to pay the entire bill, promising you he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at what he does, and to “make up for lost personality points.” You manage to pay your half anyway, considering the circumstances. 
“Can you at least let me drive you home?” Wonwoo asks as you both step out of the establishment soon after. 
“Depends.” You fix the strap of your bag. “Will it fall apart on the highway?”
The blaring white of the restaurant's outdoor lights backlight Wonwoo to make him look like some sad angel. He turns to you, the same slight smirk that seems to be plastered on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”
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“What do you mean sell it? I got this thing a year ago!” 
There isn’t much you can do but sigh loudly as you listen to Olivia talk about the state of her car, the one that cost too much to justify but she seemed to use and abuse like a very replaceable toy truck. 
Leaning against the hood of the darn thing, you talk to her. “The dealership is giving you a shit deal to take it off your hands, you might as well try your luck.”
The look on her face is easy to read as she silences. Not convinced in the slightest, waiting for the conversation to end just so she could figure it out on her own. Sighing loudly, you look back to the dark beauty with a crate of issues that make it spit and sputter to a stop every few weeks. 
“How much did you say the repairs cost again?”
“Enough to put me on food stamps,” she whines through her frustration, tears pricking against her eyes as they glisten under the neighbourhood streetlights. “Why are you smirking like that?!”
“It’s just,” you pause as you consider your next words, pressing your lips together. “This is a little bit your fault.”
Lies, it was entirely her fault. 
Liv stares like you’ve just offended her, which you’re sure you have.
“Care to share how this possible bankruptcy could be my fault?"
“Because you drive the thing like you have a secret reserve buried somewhere in Tenerife.”
“My apologies for making a habit of not being a public nuisance and going forty on a national highway.”
“Your speed-o-metre is not the issue here.”
“Yes, of course, everything’s my fault.”
“Liv, please!” You groan loudly. “Just…let’s try putting up a listing tomorrow. Consider the prospects and you can decide from there.”
Sagging her shoulders and stretching her neck, Liv decides to simply trudge back indoors in silence. You take it as a begrudging yes, and follow her inside. 
That very night, when you were at the very cusp of falling into the dark space of sleep, your brain re-awakens before your eyes do. A jolt as the memory comes back to you of the many months ago, sitting in that restaurant across from a man who was too handsome for the personality he seemed to sire. 
“Expensive ones,” he had said. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it.”
How fitting. 
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“Are you going to explain or should I explode instead?” 
You’d mentally prepared for the bombardment of accusations from Liv, her questioning perfectly right as you yourself cringed at the thought of showing your face here of all places. The one last one that’d officially banned her from ever setting you up with an individual of her choosing ever again. 
Hearing only silence as her answer, she appeals; “I thought he was the worst date of your life.”
“Nothing to do with his skills as a mechanic,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact. 
“And everything to do with this being a horrible idea anyway!” Liv stares up at the sign on top of the garage. Jeon Motors. “What makes you think this guy can fix my car?”
What did make you think he could fix Liv’s car? If you’d known you might have given her an answer, but as you stare at the giant signboard that you’ve driven past for longer than you can remember, you can’t help but feel this place has been haunting you. Just a little. 
You can’t help but feel the tingle of goosebumps rise on your skin, the hairs across the expanse standing up at the thought of walking inside. There was no way you could differentiate the reaction from plain nerves or from the cringing drills that sound all the way outside the establishment. Regardless, you make an attempt to look confident as you make your strides into the pungent of the workshop. 
The first thing you note is how…clean everything is. Cleaner than any other workshop you’ve walked into anyway. 
The interior is bigger than it looks from the outside, the ginormous hall hosting about a dozen cars within your eyeshot alone. One side of the great hall holds an array of parked cars in different stages of dismantled and deconstructed, while the other side is lined with contraptions that look like stripped and enlarged elevators. 
Once you’ve inhaled a beyond recommended amount of smoke fumes and listened past all of the clanging, banging and sparks, you register the people that are elbow deep in the hoods of the vehicle they’re working on, enough to leave you and Liv standing at the entrance of an establishment that you can barely make sense of. 
“Can I help you?” A man in stained beige overalls approaches your wide eyed pair, face half covered in his baseball hat and hands occupied with a rag. 
To your slightest dismay, it isn’t the man you’re looking for.
“Uh– is Wonwoo here?” you ask. 
“He’s in a meeting right now. Are you a friend?” 
No, just a failed love interest.
“He,” you falter. If you weren’t a friend…then what were you? “He gave me his card.”
“Do you need help with your car?”
“Mine, actually,” Liv pipes. “It’s outside if you wanna take a look first.”
With one sweeping look across the warehouse, your eyes land on one of the few doors on the left. You register the plain look of it for barely a moment before joining Liv outside. 
By the time her car has been rolled and parked inside for a more thorough inspection, it’s taken you every last grain of your willpower to not stalk back out and wait in your car. For whatever reason, you can’t help but feel a very familiar spasm of irritation spark through you. Here you are, left anxiously waiting for the same man for a second time, merely feet away but remaining occupied with more important things. 
At the very least, the multiple hands prodding around the car’s engine were being somewhat of use, attempting to survey the same issues that had been looked at about a dozen times before. You silently promise to be a better person if this trip wouldn’t be for vain.  
“Am I late for something again?” 
Your throat is suddenly clogged as you open your mouth and no sound graces your presence. The face that meets you has his eyebrows raised as he stares at you in expectation, a ghost of a smile on his face. 
“W–Wonwoo, hi, um.” You clear your throat loudly, heat cursing your cheeks. “No, of course not.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure after…four months?” he asks, hands on his hips and his back straightened.
“I…my friend’s car needed to be looked at so…”
“Ah, of course!” He turns to where you’ve motioned, looking at the popped hood of the car his employees are working on. “I’ll take a look at it myself, don’t worry about it.”
He’s already walking away, towards the car and leaving you a ways away from the action. You stare at his back; the overalls tied at the waist and the stained white T-shirt that clings to his form from the humidity.
Wonwoo remains a man of a few words, and you remain at wits end about it all. 
A loud honk gives you something to do as you jump at the sound so up close, scrambling to move away from the smack centre as another car pulls into the garage. 
“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.” Wonwoo snickers from his place hunched over the hood as he cranes his neck to look at you. 
You walk over to where he is to get out of the way. “Was that meant to sound like an innuendo?”
“I was talking about the occasional running over someone’s foot,” he answers. “Not sure what you were thinking.” 
Ignoring the jab, you note that it was now only you and him crowding the car, “Where’s Olivia?”
“Went to look at spare parts.” You watch him as his gloved hands reach further into the enclave and yank at something hard. 
“So you can fix it?” 
“The car? It’ll take a couple days but it’s not really an issue.”
Furrowing your brows, you press on, “But the dealership—”
“Dealerships are the spawn of the devil,” he grunts as he finally wrenches out a spare nut or bolt or something that’s covered in oil. “Let me guess, they wanted her to sell it back to them?”
It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Yes. They tried fixing it, but it'd just stop again.”
“Because they’ve been fixing the symptoms.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, hands occupied with rubbing the part in his hands relatively clean with a rag. “They haven’t bothered to do anything about the actual problem.” 
“Because that’s gonna cost…?”
“Couple hundred, give or take,” he announces nonchalantly, turning his focus back to the engine. 
“But—” That’s it?
“Fifty extra for every question I have to answer after this.” You briefly wonder if Wonwoo’s eyes were always this piercing, boring into your soul like he didn’t need words to know what was going on with you. 
“Fine,” you huff, moving to drag a chair over, mostly just so you could have reason to break eye contact, and plop down as you watch him work. 
The more you think about it, the more you can find yourself unbothered by his strange behaviour. He wasn’t bleak, but nowhere near one of the more interesting people you’ve met. Taking the opportunity to really scan the man head to toe, you can’t say you find anything truly concrete to be this put off by him. 
Not much of a talker, but with the times you’ve prayed for a man that knew when to shut up sometimes, you wonder how much you can actually complain about this boon in particular. 
Besides, he was a looker, and you were completely content shutting your trap if it meant you got to shamelessly ogle at him from this close. 
“You know, this place looks bigger than it does from the outside.”
Wonwoo stares pointedly. 
You raise a shoulder in nonchalance, “Wasn’t a question!”
He simply huffs as he mumbles, “More length than breadth I suppose.”
“What are those things called?” you ask as you watch a sedan get lifted into the on some platform on the other end of the row. 
Glancing back, he answers, “Post lift, car lift, whatever you wanna call it.”
“What does it do?”
“Take a wild guess.”
“Touché.” 
Glancing back at him, you catch sight of his stained shirt once again. “Is that the same thing you wore to our date?”
Chin to chest, he registers what he’s wearing, hands still working on pulling bolts and boxes out of the hood. “Have about twenty of the same shirt, I can never be too sure.”
“You’re impossible.”
He smirks, “Touché.” 
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You questioned if this was a mistake. 
Olivia could pick up her car herself, so why did you insist to be the one that did it? As you pay the taxi driver, you feel your ankles lock for a moment as you move to slip out of the cab. Frozen, you hear the driver ask you if everything was alright, to which your legs seem to work again, finally foot to gravel in front of the dreaded workshop.
The Jeon Motors sign blares the same as it always has in the afternoon light, glinting as it encourages you to walk in and do one of the stupider things you’ve done in life. Other than the ridiculous outfit you’ve put on, of course. 
But alas, as you hand over your slip to one of the many mechanics in the workshop, you find yourself praying he wasn’t here after all, that perhaps you could miss him as you leave and never have to see him again. 
Somebody yells out his name, and the dream drifts away like smoke. 
Finding the courage, you look up to where the man shouted for him, and immediately wish you hadn’t. 
Wonwoo remains in his overalls, the same ones that he had tied to his waist the last time you saw him. His undershirt however…
The tank top is revealing too much for you to pretend you don’t care, his hair remaining pushed back and away from his forehead as he walks over to you in what feels like slow motion. He takes the slip that he does not need, smiling at you as he says his hellos. 
“Car’s all fixed up, just need some papers that need signing and you’re all set.”
“Oh, but Liv isn’t here today.”
“That’s alright, you can sign them too,” he reassures, motioning for you to walk with him towards the car. “The car was alright in the test drives, revving hasn’t caused any problems either.”
He halts in front of the now (supposedly) fixed black sedan and pats the hood lightly, “If anything happens tell her to bring it straight here, although it shouldn’t have any more problems.”
“What’s your rate of return on customers?” you ask, a slight smirk on your face.
He thinks for a moment, “Pretty crap. But I guess that means I’m doing something right.”
You consider yourself something of a helicopter parent when it comes to your own car, but perhaps you’d change that if it meant you’d get to come here a little more often. 
Goodness, what’s gotten into you.
Wonwoo’s smiling too, and for a brief moment the silence is nearly awkward. A pause before he proposes leaving. 
“Shall we go to the office then?” 
Nodding eagerly, you trail behind him as he leads you towards the other end of the workshop, passing by even more cars in all their stripped or constructed glory. Glancing in front, you catch sight of Wonwoo’s back, ensnared for a moment before you snap your head away, reciting every curse word you know like a mantra. 
“It’s less hot in here too, keep the air on all the time.” Wonwoo stands in front of the plain doors, hands on the handle to wrench it open. You recognise it as the same door you had noted a few days ago. “Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”
“Um, just water is fine, thanks.”
It’s quite plain, beige and leather against cream walls and unfittingly white lights. There’s a desk on one corner that’s beyond cluttered with more papers than you can register, pens and other office supplies mixed into the disorganised chaos of the large tabletop.
“Sorry about the mess, I can never find time to sort through it.” To your surprise, the light tinge of his cheeks suggest he might actually feel a little embarrassed. 
Cute. 
There’s cabinets that line on one of the far walls, and you watch him take his gloves off to open it and reach for a cup. The white porcelain emerges stained with an ashy grey as his fingers betray him. He looks flustered, glancing at his hands and back up to the cabinet. 
You can’t help but laugh a little, moving forward to help. “It’s alright, let me.”
“Sorry,” he apologised again, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll, um, wash this off.”
“Go on, I’m here,” you reassure as you move towards the water dispenser in the corner to fill your clean cup. 
He returns with significantly cleaner hands and apologises one last time. “Seems all I do around you is apologise.”
You have the good humour to chuckle, “So I’ve noticed.”
He does well to clear out most of the clutter that’s on his desk, leaving enough room to set down a few pieces of paper as you take a seat on the opposite side. 
As you scan through the papers, he attempts to make sober conversation. “You should…bring your car around for inspections if you want.”
“Oh? Even if I ask a million questions?”
“I can make an exception or two,” he grins. 
“And if you charge me double?”
“Might not charge you at all.”
“Might?” you question as you lift the pen he’d given you to sign the first space. 
“Might.”
“And what’re the conditions for that?” 
He doesn’t answer as he ponders and you fill in the second blank. “I’ll have to think about that.”
You snort before you can help it, your last signature coming out a little wonky as your hands shake. Turning the papers over to him, you continue, “Well then, let me know when you figure it out.”
He stares pointedly as he accepts the papers before dropping his eyes again, “Can I?”
“Hm?”
“Can I? Let you know?” 
It’s like you’ve been frozen over, the typewriter in your mind jamming as it punches out the implications of what he’s saying. 
“It seems, at least to me, that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continues. 
You hesitate. “I think so too.”
“I…I don’t want to put anything like pressure on you but–” 
“Would you like to try the new gelato place downtown this week?” you ask finally as you save him from his misery. “If…you’d like.”
He looks stunned for a moment before he’s scrambling, “Oh–of course! Yes, anytime is fine with me.”
“Great,” you smile, lifting from your seat. “It’s a date.”
“I’ll promise to wash my hands this time…and my shirt. And I won’t be late.” 
“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep,” you tease. 
You’re nearing the door as he follows behind, and just as you’re about to pull down on the handle, you hear him say your name. 
Turning around, almost too eagerly, you look up at him in expectation. He’s close, almost right behind you as he looks like he’s debating whether opening his mouth is a good idea. 
“Are you doing anything else today?” 
“Um,” you stutter for a moment. “I don’t have to drop off the car till later tonight, that’s all really.”
He swallows. “Do you wanna stay? Just a little while. We can stay in here, nobody comes in anyway.”
You aren’t entirely sure why you said yes, because you did actually have dinner plans with Liv later tonight, but the teeny tiny voice in your mind egged you on anyway. Besides, Liv wouldn’t mind, not if you were cancelling for this.
This entailed the very friendly contact of Wonwoo’s tongue in your mouth, and the extremely cordial way it seemed to caress your insides. If somebody asked you how it led to this, you don’t think you’d have an answer. Not that you care, especially when his hands are grabbing your waist and hips like that.
He’s already locked the door, reassuring you that nobody would find their boss and client in the smack dab middle of the devil’s tango. You take his word for it, relishing in the way his hot breath hits your skin below your ears, his mouth sucking under your earlobes as you whimper ever so quietly. 
Your hands are on his exposed biceps, feeling him up all to your heart's content. “Do you–Do you always wear stuff like this?”
He emerges, wet lipped and eyes trained. “So I wasn’t imagining it.”
“Imagining what?” you ask as you let him unbuckle your trousers.
“Please. Like you weren’t stripping me with your eyes.”
If you were warm before you, you're boiling up now. Were you being so obvious?
“It’s alright,” he reassures as you feel his fingers make contact with the crotch of your panties, pushing in to put pressure on your clit. “Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t picked up on it.”
You feel his fingers push the dampening fabric away as his fingers make contact with your hole, coating his fingers in the arousal that’s made itself known. It’s hard to not hiss at the way he begins to circle it, thanking the universe that the loud noises of the workshop outside were masking whatever evidence of the heinous crime you were committing inside. 
Back against the couch in his office, you settle into the cushions once you feel him rub at your clit, one hand spreading your lips apart as he continues to massage your own wetness onto your throbbing cunt. 
When he retreats you almost cry out, but are smothered when he plunges two fingers into your hole instead, curling them almost immediately inside you. The consistent brush of the tips of his fingers on your walls are making it difficult to keep your eyes open, and absolutely impossible to keep your moans at bay. 
“Wonwoo, that’s so good, fuck.”
Through your closed eyes, you don’t note when Wonwoo gets on his knees. But you do feel him yank your trousers off entirely, and you definitely feel him place his wet mouth flush on your lower lips, sucking at your clit as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you mercilessly. 
That’s all it takes for your noises to become increasingly high pitched, hands buried in his beautiful hair as he continues to pleasure you beyond imagination. 
“I’m so close, keep going, please, it feels so–”
He somehow buries his face in deeper, sucking harder, licking faster, and it’s enough for you to finally feel yourself collapsing on the inside, your composure dissolving as you moan so loud you’re sure they can hear it outside, even through all the clanging and revs of cars. 
There’s no way for you to know how long you lay there slumped against the couch cushions, but when you hear Wonwoo speak to you in your ear, you answer. 
“Was that okay?”
“More than okay,” you say as you grab his face and pull his lips to yours, tasting the tang in his mouth from your arousal. “Do you have a condom?”
“I–fuck,” he thinks for a moment. “I don’t think I do.”
You try not to feel too disappointed, but you sigh into his mouth anyway. 
“Can I fuck your thighs?” you hear him ask, and you might have just orgasmed again, untouched. 
“Fuck, yes you can.” 
With a yelp, you feel yourself lifted off the couch as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, letting him guide you to his desk. “Wonwoo!”
You hear a loud crash of the desk being stripped of all its inhabitants, and your back hitting the cool of the table top. 
Wonwoo unties the arms of his overalls around his waist, letting the legs pool to the floor before slipping his hard cock out of his boxers. 
You don’t see it as you feel him lock your knees together and lift both your calves to rest on one of his shoulders. But you do feel it as he pushes the head into the seam of your thighs, watching the indent as the pink of his dick appears before you through the skin of your thighs. 
Wonwoo’s face is contorted as he pulls back and pushes back through again, this time brushing against your still sensitive clit. You gasp at contact, and immediately feel him thrusting faster. 
“Wonwoo,” you grunt. “Lower.”
He obliges, pushing his dick lower so it can rub flush against your clit as he begins to roughen up his pace. 
You moan as you feel his free hand that isn’t holding your legs trail to the ends of your shirt, caressing over your stomach to pull it up and reveal your bra clad tits. He pushes his hands under the nearest cup and begins to grope you so wonderfully with his big, warm hands. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you can only grasp onto his wrists as a handheld to keep you down on earth. 
The desk beneath you is rattling with noise, the full drawers making themselves known as Wonwoo pounds into your thighs like he would die if he stopped, mouth coming in contact with whatever skin of your legs he could reach, his breath fanning the side of your knees. 
You’re close again, and you know he is too with the way his thrusts are beginning to grow sloppy. 
“There,” he pants. “Almost.”
You orgasm for the second time, the throb your clit beyond comprehension as the rough of his dick slides across your clit mercilessly. 
“Cum like this, Wonwoo please I need to see you cum.”
And he does, shooting the heft of his load to cover your already wet cunt and thighs, landing on your stomach as he continues to ride out his high between your legs. 
The back of your head hits the table as you take in gulps of air through the aftermath of it all. Wonwoo is putting his weight on the back of your thighs, holding onto the table for support. 
“Oh, Liv is never gonna let me live this down,” you pant, lolling your head to one side as you register him. 
He peers up at you through his hair, the stupid smirk on his face, “Do you care?”
You’re smiling a little too when you answer, “Not really.”
And then your legs are off his shoulders as he nestles between them instead, diving in to lift your head and kiss you. 
And you let him, although you wouldn’t really call it too much of a kiss—not when the both of you were smiling like idiots through the clash. 
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ace-turned-confused · 4 months
Text
sea spray | dbf!joel miller x f!reader
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joel masterlist
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summary: a relaxing weekend break by the sea is just what you need, but spending it under the same roof as joel miller might not be the kind of relaxing you had in mind word count: 3,4k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied / wears a bikini & a dress / can swim, pet names, unspecified age gap, food & alcohol consumption, smut, m masturbation, oral (f receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v, spitting, creampie, overstimulation, joel's filthy mouth, praise kink, size kink a/n: i actually did spend the past weekend by the sea, unfortunately without joel miller 😔 written for @mermaidgirl30's Ocean Challenge! of course it took the entire timeframe of your challenge for inspiration to strike, but it was super fun! 🩵 big hugs to @morallyinept for beta'ing & the kind words, your message legit put the biggest grin on my face LMAO ily 💜
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Going away with your parents for a long weekend is just what you need — walks along the cliff path, cocktails on the beach, lounging in the sun. Plus the bonus of free accommodation and your meals being paid for. You’re long overdue for a break and this will be a good change of scenery.
The bricks burn through your sandals as you unload your bags. Midday sun blazing down on you, you’re desperate for a cold shower after two hours of traffic to get here.
“Hello?”
You’re met with silence as you push open the front door, a rare breeze coming through the windows. They must’ve gone into town. Kicking off your shoes, you pad through to your room at the back of the house and dump your bags.
You peel your clothes off and run a shower, washing off the sweat and stress of the morning. Unpacking your bags, most of your weekend attire is swimsuits and dresses; you’ll just be floating around the house the rest of the day and decide on a blue and white check bikini, pulling on plain linen shorts.
Making your way upstairs, the rest of the house is still, the only sound coming from slow waves rolling against the rocks. Kelp bobs up and down in the swell and wispy clouds dot the sky, you pull your phone out to snap some pictures to send to your friends, relishing in the tranquillity.
You hear muted footsteps and turn around, expecting to see your parents come up the stairs. Instead, you’re met with Joel Miller — your dad's best friend with nothing but a thin towel hanging low on his hips.
“Oh! Didn’t uh- didn’t hear you come in sweetheart.”
Your eyes flicker down as he adjusts his towel — he clears his throat and you snap your eyes back up to his face.
“I got in about half an hour ago, I just got out of the shower. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Your old man told me to come up for the weekend, he didn’t mention what time they’d be back this afternoon though.”
You nod and turn to look outside again, the image of Joel in his towel now burned into your mind. You don’t ask him about it — no possible explanation would stop your mind from wandering.
You were much younger the last time you saw him — just a sweet girl harbouring an innocent crush on a handsome man. Now you’re far from sweet, and that crush is far from innocent. This is the most you’ve ever seen of him — greying curls in every direction, wide chest into a soft tummy, dark trail of hair below his navel disappearing beneath his towel.
You can feel a wet spot forming on your bikini bottoms — so much for a relaxing weekend.
-
Joel’s seen you in passing and heard about your various achievements and adventures from your parents, but it’s been years since he spent so much time with you in such close quarters. He can’t remember you being so… grown up.
Seeing you stand there in just your bikini, your eyes flitting down to his towel, he almost instantly began to harden. Maybe some light conversation will calm him down.
“So, what you got planned for the rest of the day?”
You turn to face him again and he takes a steadying breath.
“I was gonna head down to the beach but it’s fucking hot out, so I think I’ll just be lazy here instead.”
“Pool’s nice if you’re keen on a swim.”
You slink past to head downstairs, stopping in front of him to look up at him.
“You wanna join me?”
“Think I’ll uh, sit this one out. Don’t worry ‘bout me.”
Scratching at the nape of his neck as you descend the stairs, he’s not sure how he’s going to survive this weekend. He shouldn’t be looking at you like this — you’re young, spritely, his best friend’s daughter — but he watches out the window anyway as you pull down your shorts, glass in hand, and dip down into the water.
He sneaks off to his room before you can notice.
-
Sitting on the edge of the bed with his head tilted to the ceiling, he’s already fully hard. He lets the towel fall open and wraps a hand around his throbbing cock. He shouldn’t do this, but who’s going to know?
Stroking himself with long, slow pumps, he closes his eyes and all he can see is you. Ass peeking out the edge of your bottoms, your tits spilling out your bikini top, so much skin. You sighed as you sat down in the water, a breathy, satiated sound — he wishes he could make those sounds spill from your mouth.
Precome leaking from his tip, he’s reaching his end embarrassingly fast. Speeding up to fist himself tightly, he imagines your hand wrapped around his cock instead. He imagines burying his tongue, fingers, cock into your cunt, tight and wet and his to have however he pleases.
It takes just one, two, three more strokes of his cock and he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, biting back a moan as he comes, spilling milky ropes across his hand and lower stomach. Using the same towel to clean up his mess, he tells himself he won’t do this again, he can’t do this again.
He shifts up to lean against the headboard as he comes down from his high, deciding to stay clear of you until your parents get home. Keeping you out of sight is the best way forward, even if he can’t keep you out of his mind.
-
You spend the rest of the day in the pool, nursing a Long Island iced tea and paging through your book. Joel doesn’t show face again, but it’s for the best — you can’t stop thinking about that damn towel and how easily it could slip down.
Your phone rings and pulls you from your daydreaming; you haul yourself out of the pool and pat yourself dry, fingertips wrinkled from the water. You see it’s your mom calling, and slide to answer.
You don’t get a chance to say hello and she’s bombarding you with questions.
“Hi, sweetie! How was the drive? I hope you didn’t have too much traffic. Oh! And did you see Joel? He’s with us for the weekend, maybe he went out for the day too.”
You certainly did see Joel. You still can even with your eyes closed.
“Hi, Mom. The drive was fine, and Joel’s been here the whole day.”
“That’s nice. I hope you don’t mind, you two always got along well so your father didn’t think to tell you beforehand. Listen, why don’t you and Joel come through to town for dinner with us? I’ll send you the restaurant name.”
“Yeah, okay sure. See you soon.”
“Bye, sweetie. See you.”
She hangs up the phone and you venture inside to find Joel, heading towards the spare room. Pressing your ear to the door, you don’t hear any movement. Maybe he’s sleeping.
“Joel?” You knock on the door and hear rustling, he responds a few moments later.
“Yeah? You can- you can come in.”
You nudge the door open and he’s sitting up in bed, sheets pulled to the same height his towel was hanging earlier and it takes everything you have not to stare, debate if he’s still got that towel on or is stark naked.
Stepping just over the threshold, you lean against the wall to steady yourself and focus your eyes on his face.
“My mom called, she said we must go into town to meet them for dinner. She texted me the address.”
“Sounds good, I can drive us. I’ll just uh, get ready.”
You nod and retreat from his room in silence — you’ll be able to hold a conversation once he’s fully clothed.
-
Tonight’s restaurant is right along the shoreline, carved into the cliffside. It’s a good climb down the hillside and you’re glad you’re wearing flats, mentally noting to go easy on the drinks tonight to make it back up again. Gentle waves lap against the rocks and the sea breeze is just the refresher you need after a hot summer day.
You’ve changed into a strappy dress, the hemline falling just above your knees and Joel’s in a loose button-down and board shorts. Your parents are sitting across from you, and they’d spent the better part of an hour asking you about work and romantic prospects.
Once satisfied with your answers, they turn to focus on each other, leaving you and Joel to your own devices. With them both engrossed in conversation, you try and test the waters.
You shift your legs under the table and bump your knee into Joel’s — his hand falters as he scoops more food onto his spoon, but doesn’t pull away. You push further, pressing your thigh against his and he stills completely, peering at you out of the corner of his eye.
The unfortunate combination of the summer heat and your heavy hand when pouring your drink earlier has made you fearless. You snake a hand below the table, resting it dangerously close to the growing bulge in his shorts.
He drops his spoon, catching your dad’s attention.
“You alright?”
“Yeah, uh… Yeah, fine.” He swallows and gives them a tight smile, waiting for them to continue their conversation.
“What the hell are you doin’?” Joel practically hisses at you under his breath, eyes flashing in your direction.
You ignore him and flatten your hand, unsure if the heat you can feel is radiating from him or yourself. You continue moving upwards, the tips of your fingers brushing against the outline of his cock.
“Tell me to stop and I will.” You whisper back to him, unmoving in your chair.
You start palming him through his shorts, angling your head to look at him and a fresh wave of arousal floods your panties.
“Sweetheart, you can’t be doin’ this. Not here.”
“Say stop and I will.”
His eyes flutter closed, taking in a shaky breath. It feels like he’s already fully hard.
Just when you think you’ve won, your parents stand up and you rip your hand away, heart racing in your chest. Caught up in your teasing you hadn’t noticed they’d finished dessert and paid the bill. You look at your dad with wide eyes, hoping nobody saw anything.
“Nice dinner, everyone. Good to have you here, kiddo. We’ll see you back at the house, been a long day.”
“Um, yeah, we’ll follow you guys.” You hope you sound less startled than you feel. 
He rounds the table, a hand coming down on your and Joel’s shoulders and he walks off. You and Joel stand to follow him — your mind foggy with lust, you can feel his eyes burn into you, but you don’t dare look at him.
-
Arriving home after a charged car ride with Joel, your parents say goodnight and their door shuts behind them. The room falls silent, you’re unsure who will make the first move. Joel grabs onto your arm, dragging you through the house.
“What?”
“Don’t play dumb with me now, sweetheart. You’re gonna finish what you started.”
He pulls your dress over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. Pushing you onto your bed, his eyes trail up and down your figure as you lie before him.
“What were you doing all afternoon? Didn’t see you at all.”
“You wanna know what I was doing?”
You nod and he leans down to speak into your ear, voice low and raspy.
“I was thinkin’ of you, baby. That skimpy little bikini of yours got me all hard, so instead of spendin’ my time out by the beach, I was jacking off in my room and all I could think of was you.”
A shiver runs down your spine, a small whine escaping at his words.
“Thought a lotta things about how you’d be, now we’re gonna see how much of it is true.”
He pushes you down to lie on your back, pulling your panties down. You try to cross your legs out of habit and he grabs your knees, spreading you open before him.
“Now we’re shy, are we? Don’t want me seeing this pretty pussy?”
He cups you entirely and you tilt your hips, chasing the friction of his palm against your clit.
“After that little game you played just now, you’re gonna take what I give you, and you’re gonna enjoy it.”
He wraps his arms under your legs, dragging you to the edge of the bed and drops to his knees, draping one leg over each of his shoulders. You look down at him and he stares into your eyes, flattening his tongue against you and licking a broad stripe up through your folds. He sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue swirling in tight circles and your head falls back against the bed.
“Oh, fuck, Joel.”
He chuckles into you, causing you to moan again.
“Better than the boys you normally go out with?”
He doesn’t give you time to answer, tongue circling your clit again and he drags his fingers up and down, coating them in your arousal. Pushing two fingers into your cunt, the stretch is already far more than with your own — you’re not sure how you’ll ever satisfy yourself after this.
He pumps his fingers in and out, in and out, curling them upwards and you feel heat spreading across your abdomen, your legs just beginning to tremble. You move your hands into his hair, tugging on his curls and he groans against you, speeding up his movements.
“You gonna come for me?”
“Please, Joel. Oh, god, please.”
“Go on then, come. I know you can.”
You tighten your grip on his hair, legs going stiff as you come on his fingers and his movements don’t stop, tongue flicking back and forth over your clit, fingers fucking into you relentlessly to drag out your high. With no chance to recover, he pushes a third finger into you, his pace never faltering.
“Joel, please. It’s too much.”
He pulls off from you just enough to speak, a devilish grin on his face.
“Say stop and I will. I told you you were gonna take what I gave you.”
Mouth latching onto you again, he ignores your protesting, eyes boring into your own. You can see him rutting into the side of the bed and your moans turn into whines and whimpers, the heat pooling at the base of your spine more intense than before.
“Come on, sweetheart, be a good girl for me.”
Pushing his free hand down onto you, he curls his fingers inside of you, grazing over that one spongy spot and your vision blurs. You dig your heels into his back, hips lifting off the bed as you come again, a warm stream of liquid soaking his beard that’s scratching at your inner thighs.
Chest heaving as you come down, he pulls his fingers out and sucks one into his mouth, licking it clean.
“Better than I imagined.”
He leans over you, shoving his other two sticky fingers into your mouth and you whine at tasting yourself on him.
“All that messing around and look where it got you.”
He unbuttons his shirt agonisingly slowly, a smirk spreading across his face. His eyes are blown wide, beard slick with your release as he trails his fingertips up and down your leg, the small hairs standing in his wake. You close your legs and flop back onto the bed, already feeling spent.
“Just one more thing I needa see for myself.”
Finally pulling his shorts down, that tantalising trail of hair you saw this morning spreads into wiry curls surrounding the base of his cock. He’s bigger than anyone else you’ve ever been with, fully stiff as he takes himself in his hand with long strokes — thick, throbbing, and precome pearling from his tip.
“Are you gonna fuck my mouth?”
He draws circles into your leg, still stroking himself.
“Not this time. Wanna feel how tight this pussy’s gonna squeeze my cock.”
Not this time. You clench around nothing in anticipation, and he starts crawling up the bed to you.
“Be good and maybe we can use that mouth of yours another day.”
Propping yourself up on your elbows, Joel drags himself through your wetness, nudging the tip of his cock against your clit.
“Gonna be a tight fit, sweetheart. Might just ruin this cunt for anyone else.”
He lines himself up with your entrance, both of your eyes locked on where you join. Pushing in just past his tip, your mouth falls open with a strangled moan.
“Warned you. Feels good, doesn’t it?” All you do is whimper in response.
“Gonna feel even better.”
He sheaths himself completely inside of you, hair at his base pressed against your clit and balls pressed against your ass. It’s the most stretched out you’ve ever been — it’s also the best you’ve ever felt and he hasn’t even started moving.
He leans over you and starts grinding his hips, pulling your bra down. Pinching a hardened nipple between his fingers, he takes the other into his mouth, swirling his tongue just the same as before.
You lock your ankles behind his back, legs wrapped around his waist and arms wrapped around his neck, holding onto him as if you’d float away. He lifts his head, a trail of spit connecting his lips to your breast. Bringing a hand up to your face, he squeezes your cheeks to force your mouth open, looking into your eyes as he spits into the back of your throat.
You moan quietly, clenching around his length and he huffs a laugh, shaking his head.
“Dirty girl. You let other boys spit into your mouth, too?”
You shake your head clumsily and tighten your legs, trying your hardest to grind yourself against him.
“What’s wrong, baby? What happened to it’s too much?”
He straightens up and pries your legs off him, pressing them into your chest. His eyes are dark as he watches how you squirm and stretch around him. He angles his head forward, letting another string of saliva fall from his mouth onto your cunt and it drips down around his cock.
Using two fingers, he puts slight pressure on your clit but doesn’t move.
“You’re gonna come on my cock, and then I’m gonna come inside you. Understand?”
You’re not sure how to string words together on your own accord anymore, clit throbbing and cunt stretched out, mind filled with just Joel.
“Hey, repeat after me, come on: I’m gonna be a good girl.”
“I’m gonna be a… a good girl.”
“Next: I’m gonna come on your big cock.”
“I’m gonna come- on your big cock.”
“And to finish off: You’re gonna come inside me.”
“You’re… gonna come inside me.”
“Was that so difficult?”
He readjusts his grip on your legs and starts pounding into you, the force of his thrusts shifting you up and down, your clit rubbing against his steady fingers. Your moans are only broken by the need for more air, your voice becoming hoarse and getting higher and higher in pitch as he keeps going harder.
You start clamping down on him, the day’s heat and your teasing and the way he’s using you relentlessly quickly becoming too much.
“Come on, sweetheart. You’ve been such a good girl. Come one last time for me and I’ll fill you up.”
His words push you over the edge and he keeps fucking into you as you come. You reach down to hold onto him, your hands wrapping around his arm and you dig your nails into his skin, carving out crescent moons.
Through the ringing in your ears, you can hear him grunting, his resolve finally breaking after a few more thrusts as he spills inside of you, your walls coated in his spend as the warmth spreads throughout your body. He loosens his hold on your legs, bringing them down and massages your tired muscles.
Pulling out of you, you feel his come slowly leak out and down your folds, landing in thick droplets on the sheets. You turn onto your side, sleep already creeping up on you and he drops down behind you, his chest pressed against your back and softening cock against your ass.
“We’re going to the beach tomorrow, and I wanna see what other little outfits you got with you. Try another game like you did tonight, though, and I’m gonna have to put you in your place again.”
You huff a laugh, a gentle, satisfied smile on your face. This long weekend is suddenly far more exciting than you prepared for.
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comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜
dividers by @saradika-graphics
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alien-magnolia · 1 month
Text
You Saved Me
Tw: logan howlett x fem!reader, domestics, description of childbirth/pregnancy, breeding knk, fem/mutant! reader, domestics, Logan being so caring <3 18+ MDNI
A/n: please support your creators and reblog if you love this content <3 xoxo, Liz
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——-
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You never believed in being absolutely crushed, enamored with someone just from one instance of meeting. Just from one glance. That never fell to be true. Until you met Logan.
He saved you from Striker’s Island, saved you from life in a cage, life as an experiment, carrying you off the grounds of the facility because you had a broken leg. He was so caring, so gentle, with you that day.
You sobbed as the bone in your leg bulged out, itching to relieve itself in the fresh air, away from the mess that was your thigh. “I know it hurts. Just hold on to me, yeah? Won’t let anything happen to you,” he consoles, his gruff voice and warm, heaving chest a comfort to you as the pain from your leg was asinine — slowly killing you.
He was gentle on the night you eloped, as well. The two of you fell enamored with each other in only a span of a few months. You needed each other to heal. The two of you spend some time away from the X-mansion, back in the outskirts of the Colorado mountains.
“Let me carry you over these rocks, bub. Don’t want you to strain yourself,” he chided at you, and once again, those strong, hairy arms you loved so much, picked you up as if you weighed nothing, and carried you to the edge of the cliff. “It’s beautiful here, Logan,” you exclaim in quiet awe. “It’s nice. Private,” he replies, a large hand coming to cup your face. “You saved me, bub. After losing my brother, having all these god-fuckin’ awful memories. Had so much pain,” he sighs. “I know. You’re safe now, Lo,” your hands cup his cheeks, pulling him into a slow and chaste kiss.
—-
“Can’t! Can’t take it anymore — Lo!!,” you squealed, as his broad chest pressed up against your back, all the chest hair leaving marks on your back. His large hands cradling your front, occasionally squeezing at your plush tits, his grunts animalistic. “Doing so well, sweetheart. Taking me so well. Give me one more squeeze bub, I know you can,” he reassures, as you feel like you’re about to explode from his thick, eight inch cock ramming into you, over and over.
You’re in complete bliss as you feel his seed seeping into you. You were fertile. You were his. His claws come out as he finishes, almost touching your neck. He pulled them back quickly, checking if you were okay. “Love you so much, sweetheart. You’re my moon, I’m your Wolverine,” he whispers, as he rolls you over onto your back, wiping you with a towel. He lays down next to you, cradling you on his big chest, in an almost paternal way.
You were safe, you were loved.
He continued being the softest, gentle, man that he could be, with you. Even when the both of you returned to the Mansion. He would constantly check in on you if you were teaching class, advising the students of how you gained control of your telepathy. He would always make sure you went to bed at a reasonable time, and that you wouldn’t over exert yourself while teaching.
His love and care for you was innately fierce, and it grew even more fervorous when you told him you were pregnant. You’ve never seen the man so happy.
He was insanely protective over you. He was your shadow, always around where you were. If another at the mansion even so simply looked at you, he would get defensive. “We got a problem here?,” he would ask, claws slowly inching out. They would shake their head quickly and walk away.
He would hold back your hair as you had morning sickness, constantly ill. He would tell you everything would be okay, as you gained a bit of weight, as your hormones raged out of control.
“What do you need, bub? Water? I can make you somethin’ to eat too, don’t hold out on me, now,” he asks, as he walks into your kitchen after a long day of working with Charles on a new project. You sniffle, “I never knew pregnancy would be this hard, Lo. I’m losing it.” “Hey. You’re still my moon, y’ know. You saved me, sweetheart. Still love ya just the same, even if you’re all heavy with my kid. It’s a new life we made,” he reassures, bringing you in to the safe haven of his chest again. You smile warmly, as he continues to hold you.
He was there with you for the birth. You were in so much pain, and he held you — every step of the way. When the infant was finally out, the three of you spent hours just laying together, having skin to skin contact. “My moon. Did so well f’me, sweetheart,” he tells you, as you have your infant laying on his chest, and your fingers gently touch his beard.
He saved you, after all.
A/n: I want this man in a very bad way, a very, very, very, very bad way. Screaming. References here are from original X men movie and X men origins: Wolverine.
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peachesofteal · 5 months
Text
Cool Girl
Ghoap x female reader / 18+ / masterlist
Your hand is shaking again.
It’s a defense mechanism or something, you think. Some physical manifestation of your anxiety. Something psychological, you’re sure of it.
It’s the only thing you’re sure of, if you’re being honest.
You stalk home as fast as you can, scowl affixed to your face like it’s been cemented there, seeping deep into your frown lines, etching them like a chisel on marble.
The walk sobers you. Brings you back to rational sense, little by little.
You shouldn’t have called them. You’re so dumb. You’re asking for trouble.
But is it so bad, to want to cause an emotional reaction? To want them to be as miserable as you?
It’s pathetic. A way to seek validation. A mistake.
One you’re sure you’re going to pay for.
Your front door is unlocked.
The door pushes open nearly on its own, and your eyes struggle to adjust in the pitch black of your hallway. No light from the street spills from the living room, which means the drapes have been drawn closed.
Your heart leaps into your ears, pounding between your temples at a frenzied pace.
It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s probably them.
What if it’s not? Do you have a weapon? A way to defend yourself? You find your pepper spray in your bag, readying it between trembling fingers.
“Hello?” You call.
Nothing.
“Hello… if you’re in my flat, you better-“ a firm hand grips back of your neck, like a viper assaulting its prey, and you scream.
“It’s me.” Simon murmurs into your hair, touching over your pulse. “Jus’ me.”
“You scared the shit out of me,” you twist out of his grip, fumbling for the lights.
When they flick on, you blink a few times to adjust.
He’s a sight for sore eyes in joggers, a black sweatshirt, black hat.
His eyes burn. They scald you, roving from top to toe, his mouth sealed in a scowl. “Have a nice night, sweetheart?”
You gulp. “I- I did.”
“Thought you were clever with that phone call?”
“I… I didn’t think-“
“You didn’t.” He cuts you off, and then points to living room. “Go sit on the couch.” Your hand trembles against your chest, and you hang your head.
Got the attention you wanted?
“Where’s Johnny?” You whisper as he takes the seat next to you, massive shoulders turning so he can peer downwards.
“Decided this was better to handle on my own.” Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest.
“Oh.” Simon takes a deep breath, eyeing your shaking hand, and then shakes his head. You can’t read it, can’t ever read him, and you wait with breath frozen in your lungs, wait for him to say something, anything.
But what comes next, is not what you expected.
“Johnny’s in love with you.” You jerk back, eyebrows raised into your hairline.
“No.” Your voice trembles. “No, this… this is casual.”
“It is.” Simon’s lips press flat. “The girl at the hotel, she was a job. Had nothin’ to do with our… personal lives. She was a loose end to tie up when we got back. It was convenient, that she lived in our city.” Your mind tumbles and falls, your sense dives off a cliff.
Johnny’s in love with you.
“I don’t understand… you, after-“
“I let you believe it.” He says simply, looking down his nose at you. He’s never looked so cold. “At first, I wanted to explain, to correct it, for his sake, but… the opportunity was too good. So I told Johnny that you reminded me of our arrangement. That you agreed, that you always said you didn’t want a relationship. The situation at the bar with your date,” he smiles self indulgently “that was just for fun. Would’ve fucked ya right up against that door for the whole bar to see if you let us. Split that pretty pussy open on my cock and watch you gag on Johnny’s, but you still wanted to be a brat,” he rolls his eyes, “it was all a distraction I built for him.”
Alarm bells blare inside your skull, Johnny’s words from the other day when he brought the flowers repeating over and over.
“Ye think ye saw us with another woman, or on a date, but-“
“Ye agreed. Ye always said ye didnae want a relationship.”
“No- no. He… he came here, he made it sound-“
Simon studies you. “He’s explosive, sometimes. Doesn’t handle his emotions well, gets all twisted up. I think when he came over here, he wanted you to tell him you wanted more,” he sighs, rubs his chin. “He’s so out of sorts over it all, poor boy.”
“Why? Why didn’t you… why didn’t you tell him the truth? Or me?” His lips curl into a sneer.
“Because Johnny is mine. I might share his body with you, sweet girl, but I won’t share his heart.”
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alliseaisfandom · 5 months
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this will probably be disproven across episodes but I have the Gwen brainrot so indulge me.
I know a lot of people hope that Elias is out walking around happy and high, but see the Magnus institute burned down in 1999. Jonah took Elias in 1996.
So don't imagine Gwendolyn coming 'home' after a few years studying on daddy's money, daddy's name and daddy's contempt that his youngest daughter seems perfectly fine with ignoring what is expected from a Bouchard.
Don't imagine Gwen running into her brother one night after he himself hasn't been in their family house for weeks. And realising the thing in front of her isn't Elias.
The stone cold sober, easy smiling man with impeccable posture is not the man who taught her how to play their parents to secure a peaceful life and a place in the will at the same time.
The eyes looking back at her never winked at her from across the dinner table, never shed tears of rage at the golden chains around both of them, never looked at her at her lowest and told her everything would be okay one day. Because those eyes do not belong to Elias.
'A promotion' it tells her, with the same pride Elias used to talk about a student strike that would absolutely wreck their name if it were printed on papers, but this thing wouldn't do that because this thing is. Not. Her. Brother. But she's almost as good at acting as it is, so she plays along. 'Head of the Magnus Institute'.
And Gwen knows very little of the Magnus institute. But she knows enough about Elias Bouchard. She knows about Allan and the eyeless thing that got to him, tale whispered in a panic on the night she first saw her brother as a child instead of a role model. She knows about the letter that arrived unprompted. She knows the stories of what goes on inside the too old building.
And she knows how easy it is to get her hands on gasoline for the bits of it that aren't already flammable.
When she's called in as his emergency contact, she feigns shock at the fire, throws the bone that 'the idiot couldn't even keep his fucking lighter straight' between tears.
She throws the ashes off a foggy cliff onto the sea and attends the empty casket funeral with the same expression she learns to carry from that day on. And after years of clipped conversation, she does what she promised Elias to never do.
'Get me in.' She tells her father. And his smile of relief at 'still having a worthy heir' on the day of his son's funeral sickens her. But she keeps the same expression.
Because she may have killed the thing that took Elias. But the OIAR is the place that can tell her what she killed exactly.
And she won't make her brother's mistakes.
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2hightocare · 8 months
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UNEXPECTED NEWS!
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Synopsis: Pregnant with your first child, how do you plan on dropping the news to your husband?
Genre: married au! KUWTB!
Warnings: whole lotta fluff.. cussing, mentions of sex, playful banter, found family… just fucking fluff bye.
a/n: well long awaited drabble.. I honestly adore all of them so much… Jungkook and oc were being extra cutesy (they usually play fighting all the time) in this.. enjoy🤍 ps I’m high as fuck so ignore all mistakes.
ask! KUWTB💌
“You’re fucking pregnant?” Your best friend whispers, Eunbi stares at you with wide eyes and mouth hanging open.
You had been feeling weird these past few days, from your emotions being all over the place to throwing up whenever you ate something. Jungkook was worried about what was wrong, but you just told him that you were on your period, which was a lie since you hadn’t had it in some time now.
So, here you are, sitting against the wall in the bathroom of Eunbi’s house with a positive pregnancy test in your hand. “I’m going to be an auntie!” Eunbi dances in front of you, her blonde hair coming undone from her bun.
“Oh my god, I’m pregnant.” It finally clicks in your brain that a small human is forming in your belly at this very moment, tears start streaming down your face.
You and Jungkook have been married for five years now. When you first got married, you both said you would enjoy your marriage and have fun. And that’s exactly what you did; you traveled a lot, went out to parties until five in the morning, did spontaneous stuff all the time.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Eunbi rushes to your side, kneeling down in front of you, lifting your face up. “Are these happy tears or sad tears?” She asks, her thumbs wiping your tears away, ruining your makeup.
“Both.” You sniffle, your eyes finally meeting her hazel eyes.
“Wanna talk about it?” Eunbi asks slowly, trying to read your expression.
Eunbi has been your best friend since college days; she was your dorm roommate. You both majored in the same thing, meaning you guys had almost every class together.
“It’s just that..” you pout, as the tears continue to fall.
“I’m happy, I’m really happy. But Kook and I haven’t talked about having a baby anytime soon. I don’t know how he’ll react.” You explain, as Eunbi only nods her head.
“Y/n, that man loves you so much, it’s even absurd what he would do for you. Knowing him, he would literally jump off a cliff for you. I don’t think he’ll react badly, but if he does, I’ll have the guys throw him off the cliff. Anyways, he loves you a lot with a baby or without a baby.” Eunbi says, helping you stand up before hugging.
“How do you think I should tell him?” You sniffle, as Eunbi chuckles, letting go of you.
“Pregnancy reveal plan in the making!” Eunbi says.
“And can we get out of here, this is where Yoongi takes his shits, it kinda smells bad,” Eunbi scrambles to the door, which has you laughing, following her lead out of the bathroom.
It’s been two days since you found out you were pregnant, but you haven’t told Jungkook anything yet. Eunbi and you planned a way of telling him the day you found out, so here you are, nervous as hell in Jungkook's car, trying to calm your nerves.
After a couple of minutes, you step out of the car with your shoulder bag and some shopping bags. You lock the car behind you and make your way to the main door.
“Hi baby, how did it go?” Your husband greets you the minute you walk in from the couch. “What did you buy?” Jungkook pauses the show he was just watching, putting all his attention on you, making grabby hands for you to go to him.
“Want a haul?” You giggle, making your way to him who pats his lap for you to sit on, which you do after dropping the bags beside him.
“Better have used my card,” he gives you a glare which you only roll your eyes playfully, reaching for your Prada bag before pulling out his black card and handing it to him. “Keep it, you use it more than me,” waves you off, giving your neck a wet kiss.
“Did the girls not go? I was on the phone with Taehyung, and he said Ari was making dinner.” Jungkook gives your thigh a squeeze, helping you adjust in his lap. “Ari said she was really busy with work, and Lora was taking care of Jiho since Jin is working.” You explain, running your fingers through his messy curls.
“You went by yourself? I could’ve gone with you, baby.” Jungkook pouts at you, which you shake your head with a smile. “Eunbi went with me, plus you had work,” You squeeze his cheeks.
“Tsk, I missed you,” He smiles, pulling your face closer to his before connecting his lips to yours. Your eyes immediately flutter closed, mirroring his smile against your lips.
“I have to show you something.” You bring up, your stomach doing a turn. “Show me,” He smiles, patting your thigh, before you climb off his lap, reaching for the shopping bags.
“Are you going to give me a haul?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you, which you only wink back as a response.
“So, I got a lot of makeup,” you say, showing him every product you got, which he listened to carefully even though he had no clue what half of the stuff you bought is used for. “I got us these, so we can all match,” you pull out the biggest Nike shoe box first, passing it to your husband.
“These are sick as fuck,” Jungkook holds up the black and white high tops. “Let me see yours.” He motions to the other box in the bag; you hand him your shoe box. Instead of high tops, they’re low instead.
“Super cute, they match your outfit right now,” He says about your pink long sleeve bodysuit. “They do, don't they,” You say, cracking your fingers nervously to show him the much smaller box in the bag.
“Oh, who’s this one for?” Jungkook reached for the small box, opening it to be met with tiny matching shoes. “Are these for Jiho? I don’t think they would fit him,” Your husband brings up the only child in the family as he holds the tiny shoe in his palm.
“They’re not for Jiho..” You nervously say, as you dig into your bag, pulling out the positive pregnancy test.
“You’re fucking kidding,” Jungkook's mouth hangs open as he stares at your teary eyes. You shake your head, tears start falling down your eyes watching your husband that’s stuck in place with wide eyes.
“I’m going to pass out, baby, are you serious?” Jungkook's face scrunches up as tears fill his eyes, “baby, you’re pregnant?” He drops the shoes and moves closer to you, his hands holding your face waiting for you to say something.
“Yes, I’m pregnant,” You sniffle with a smile, reaching to wipe your husband's tears. Before you know it, he jumps up, fist bumps the air, and starts screaming.
“Fuck yes!” He shouts to the air as he runs around the house as you burst out laughing, “I’m going to be a dad, oh my fucking god!” He runs back to pick you up from the carpet, smashing his lips on yours, spinning around.
“You’re going to be a mommy, you’re going to be such an amazing mom,” Jungkook says between each kiss he leaves all over your face, making you giggle. You felt stupid for even worrying in the first place how he would react.
“I think it’s going to be a boy,” Jungkook sets you down, “Baby, it’s been two days since I found out,” You say,
“You knew for two days and you didn’t tell me?” He gasps dramatically, “I was thinking about how to tell you,” you reassure him, which he only nods, giving you a big fat kiss.
“Do you think it’s too soon to buy his crib right now?” Jungkook asks enthusiastically.
“Jeon..” you give him a look, “yes it’s too early and don’t call it ‘he,’ we don’t know what it might be,” you say, before getting on your tiptoes, leaving a kiss on his lips, leaving him in the living room making your way to the kitchen.
“You just called him and ‘it,’ that's so much worse!” Jungkook argues, following behind you.
“Your handwriting is shit, to say the least,” you say as your husband writes on the small index card. “You have a way to flirt with me, baby, thank you so much, I love you too,” he says as he glares up at you before returning to writing on the card.
“Do you even think they’ll open the cookies?” You pop your hip out, watching your husband. “You know they only come to our house for the cookies, right? They don’t give a fuck about us,” Jungkook bites a laugh as you pout. “Well, now I don’t want to tell them shit,” you joke, staring at the words on the card.
“Do you even think they’ll understand that? They’re a little slow,” Jungkook wraps his hand over your shoulder, messing up your perfectly curled hair. “Um, they'll figure it out, they got a Joonie to help them,” you shrug before stealing a cookie from the packet and running off.
“I’m so hungry,” Lora says, her hand on her stomach as if that would silence the growling happening inside.
“There are cookies on the counter,” you point to the kitchen, which Jungkook smirks at you.
With that, everyone stands up, dashing to the kitchen, acting like they never had a cookie in their life. You truly had no idea how all of you became obsessed with chocolate chip cookies; all of your guys' houses have a bunch of packages lying everywhere to eat. It was common and normal for all of you; for others, it might seem bizarre seeing grown adults fight over cookies.
“I swear cookies taste so much better in Kook's house,” Jimin rants as he watches Hoseok open the bag, stopping in his tracks as he reads the note. Lora and Ari try reaching in for a cookie, completely ignoring the note but getting swatted away by Namjoon.
“Y/n is pregnant!” Namjoon shouts, which sends everyone's mouths hanging open. “You’re fucking joking!” Seokjin gasps as he runs towards you and Jungkook, embracing you in a tight hug.
“Oh my god, they really got down to business,” Taehyung says, getting a swat from Lora who’s glaring at him before pointing her eyes at Jiho beside her. “Am I the only one who doesn’t get the note?” Jimin says as he reads the card, as everyone congratulates and hugs you and Jungkook.
“Eat up, mommy Y/n doesn’t want to be the only one with a belly, love baby!” Jimin reads the card, holding it up in the air after he’s done reading it.
“I told you someone was not going to know what it meant,” Jungkook whispers into your ear, only for you to hear, which makes you chuckle under your breath.
“You’re just mad I had to explain it to you,” you whisper back, which gets you a kiss on your cheek.
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allfearstofallto · 22 days
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Bathing Together
Yandere! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader
TW: 18+ MDNI, Yandere themes
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It's tradition in Inazuman culture for family and spouses to bathe together, as Scaramouche would tell you. Washing each other's bodies is a sign of affection, respect, and most importantly, trust. Scaramouche wants to trust you. He believes that all good relationships are built up on trust. But he trusts no one, therefore he's never had a good relationship. Not even with you, the person he loves most. That's obviously something he desires to change.
He's allowed you to bathe alone long enough, giving you the space that was recommended by his peers, but he's grown frustrated. Needy even. Desperate for even more of your attention. As if he couldn't monopolize enough of your time already, seeing him during your meals and when you were trying to sleep wasn't enough apparently, he wanted to be present for your baths as well. And not just present, active in them.
He assured you that nothing sexual was going to happen, but you trusted Scaramouche as much as you trusted a frail rope to hold your body. But just like that rope, hanging you over the side of the cliff, you had no choice in whether or not it let you live. You were just waiting for the day it would finally snap and kill you.
So, he bathed with you.
Awkwardly, of course.
You always knew that Scaramouche was not human, but the feeling was mostly subconscious. It was small things like how little he slept or the small amounts he ate, but nothing was concrete. He never told you what he was, it was hard to get him to tell you anything, but it was something that itched in the back of your mind. A kind of uncanniness about him, the way his seemed too perfect, too symmetrical, his beauty so processed and mechanical. His body was no different. Completely hairless from head to toe and thin as well, but as pale as snow or paper, like there was no blood circulating within him.
"Must you stare?" He questioned, his voice holding traces of that bitter annoyance he always expressed, and you looked away.
Sitting on the stool you scrubbed yourself, your arms and chest, trying your hardest to avoid eye contact with him. Much to your surprise, Scaramouche genuinely didn't touch you with longing hands. Rather, he cleaned himself next to you, fully eyes focused on his task at hand, before he stood and walked behind you.
There was no chance to ask him what he was doing, his thin fingers holding a soapy rag were against your back. Not groping you, a thought that made you breathe a sigh of relief, but scrubbing you. You didn't ask him to do such a thing and definitely didn't imply that you wanted the help, but he did so anyways. His hands were firm, but gentle. Pressing down hard enough to clean you, but not enough to hurt.
"Wash mine now," he muttered after pouring warm water down your back.
It wasn't any less tense when you were behind him. Hands on his pale skin, you barely touched him when you cleaned his back. He was warm to the touch though, with a particularly marking on the nape of his neck. Scaramouche didn't register as the type of person who had tattoos, or even enjoyed the process. Yet when you tried to get a closer look, he spoke.
"If you're curious about it, then ask. I've told you about your staring," his voice rung out against the walls of the bathroom, echoing into your ears through the silence.
"No questions, my lord," you stammered, "I was just looking."
You too poured water down his back, signalling that you were finished and he stood, seemingly completely unfazed by his own nudity. His hand was on your wrist, making you follow him into the tub, where the water was steaming and hot to the touch.
You dipped your toe into it to test the heat, then sank into the tub. He sat right next to you, breathing out a sigh that sounded like relieving stress. For a while the two of you say in complete silence, where he looked off into the distance, like he as pondering something.
"You didn't try to kill me," he remarked, a little too nonchalantly for your liking.
"Of course not," you spat back. But that didn't mean that the thought didn't cross your mind. Although, the thought of wringing your hands around his neck and watching the life leave his body was something you always considered, but never acted on.
"You've exceeded my expectations of you then,"
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lady-ashfade · 8 months
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soulmate au with percy and reader. i was thinking like reader is like a complete nobody at camp and the daughter of some not really known god. percy and reader meet by accident and they figure out they are soulmates. percy at first didn’t want anything to do with it because he had feelings for annabeth but comes around.
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Percy Jackson x Fem!reader. (Soulmate au)
-£ Pictured a older version of book Percy, but imagine them staying a camp or coming late.
-£ words: 1.5 words
-£ warnings: Angst, rejection, jealousy, I love annabeth, percy being mean? Idk. Anyway kinda short. What can I say, I love a man with dark hair who has sass?🤷‍♀️
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“Do you ever wonder who you’re soulmates is?” percy sat on the log near the cliff looking over the sunset. annabeth keeping her eyes on the forest below, smiling softly as the orange sun hit her skin.
“I’m not worried about it, they will come to me when the time is right.” she replied with a calm voice.
percy could help himself from looking down at her hand and slowly inching his hand near hers. the marking was just late. he knew that she was his soulmate. how could she not be after everything they went through? besides no one knew him like she did.
fate is a funny thing.
because the person who was chosen to be his, and his alone wasn’t the girl he sat next to. it was you. you barely had any contact with percy. never even spiking a word to each other and yet the world still twined you together.
looking back on it he wished he reacted in a nicer way then he did. anything other then what he did, even faint.
he was running a pile of arrows to the archery training ground when he ran into you. as soon as your eyes met the world was slow for just a second and colors shined brighter then they did. in that moment you both felt something that was more then the gods. something even the gods can’t touch.
“woah,” you whisper with your hands still held onto the arrows he was trying to give to you. his hands didn’t stop clinching onto the wood, he couldn’t believe it.
you blink at him for him to do something other then stand there and stare with a open mouth. sure this type of thing wasn’t normal but he didn’t even move a inch.
but you wished he had stayed quiet, “Look, I um..” he let go of the things you two shared and took a step back with hasted.
“I have to run.” you watched him run off like there was nothing important to keep him here.
At first you thought that he was just shy, in shock, and didn’t know what to say. but you soon figured out he wanted nothing to do with you. you followed him around and tried to talk to him at every chance you got but he would always slip from your fingers.
cornering him in the woods at night wasn’t the best idea but you had but there was not other choice. it didn’t feel good to have your soulmate avoid you.
“There is a mistake.” his voice echoed through the woods, “I feel nothing for you. I am sure you are amazing, but you are not my soulmate.”
he watched the tears pool into your eyes like the waves he controlled. taking a step back from the news from his lips that crushed your soul. “I am in love with another.”
Licking your lips you roll your eyes to try and stop the tears forming. “it’s annabeth isn’t it?” he couldn’t deny it even if he wanted to. the silence he gave when he opened his mouth but nothing came out told you everything you needed to know.
“I do hope you live a happy life,” you walked closer to him only inches away, “especially when she finds her soulmate.” you walked past him and down the dirt path back to your cabin where you broke down.
fate was twisted and cruel for giving you him.
day and night you thought about him. and day and night you got worse. everyone could see the toll of being rejected but no one new by who. not a soul knew about you and percy and you honestly liked it that way. no pity glances when they hung out together. 
soulmate depression was a serious thing and could lead one down to a never reversible illness. your eyes lost their light, no one ever saw you smile, looking as dead like as possible. every positive feeling in your body was drained out.
annabeth looked over at you at diner time as you stared at the plate in front of you, sitting at the edge of the bench. “It’s terrible,” she said and picked at her food with a fork. “I hope they come around.”
the trio stared at you in pity, one of them feeling guilt. “It’s a really bad case, I feel so bad.” Grover looked sad as he almost cried himself. love was supposed to be for real, that’s what soulmates were for! If he had one he would never let them get like that.
Percy found himself studying the girl. Her hair messy, her face grime and eyes blank and darker then the last time he looked in them. And Percy was the cause.
“Yeah,” the black hairy boy turned and poked at his food.
It has been week since then and a weight sunk in his stomach when he thought of you, which was almost every moment now. He thought about how you would smile before and how he wanted to see that again. He really thought he liked annabeth but each day that feeling went away.
Maybe he could think things over. But how could he apologize? Would you still want him?
But as Percy thought over the war in his head you moved on. Or as much as you could. there was a sickness in your body but you tried to fight it and spent time with your friends.
one boy took you in quickly. the two of you now glued at the hip and he was the only one who seemed to make you smile now.
“Dude,” Grover knocked his shoulder with his own, “What did he do to you?”
The son of Poseidon darted his eyes lowly at some boy. The way you smiled ever so sweetly like he has been wishing to see for weeks but this- This guy could cause it easily. And those small laughed he could hear so faintly in his ears.
“Nothing.” Percy stated while still glaring at the guy heavily.
the satyr nodded but lingered his eyes on his friend for a few seconds. clearly not believing him one bit.
“I have to tell you something,” he pulled his eyes away from you and to his friend. Guilt covering his face. “You know how y/n got reflected by her soulmate?” his voice shaky.
“Of course, it was hard to watch.” He answered. It didn’t take long for him to connect the dots when Percy lifted his brows as a sign. Grover gasped loudly.
“You did- Oh my god’s. How could you?” His mouth was then covered by Percy as he shh’d him.
Percy took a big breath as he held his hand over his mouth, “I’m not proud of it. It was just, I didn’t feel like we could be. I thought me and annabeth were soulmates until they came along,” he turned his eyes back to your direction to find you laughing slightly with your friends.
“I was terribly wrong.”
As much as Grover was mad at his friend he could see the guilt and regret on his face. He helped him come up with a plan, and gave him a very long lecture about love. Annabeth found out, and cursed him out. Saying that the marks don’t lie and was overly upset he could do that for her.
it took a week of long work for him to build up the courage to finally talk to you.
lucky he knew exactly where you would be. in the same stop he saw you for the first time as his soulmate. In the training grounds. You had been walking back to your cabin looking as beautiful as always even with your gloomy change.
you had a basket in your hand. you hummed quietly and kept your eyes on the dirt path underneath your feet. you were too out of it to hear him walking from behind you. “Y/n.” He called your name.
turning around startled you are met with him smiling at you. the boy who broke your heart standing there with a warm smile on his face as if he didn’t do anything wrong.
“Percy.” You whisper and step back. “I um…Do you need something?” you were shaking almost.
He got closer slowly as he got more awkward by the second, “can we talk?” you were hesitant to expect his offer but you nodded.
“I want to apologize for rejecting you. I felt horrible watching you- Well, get like this.” He kept getting closer and you didn’t know if you should run away or scream at him.
“I was wrong. You are the girl for me.” He saw the tears flood in the corner of your eyes and your lips tremble
“you think that’s enough?” you didn’t yell but he could sense the harsh tone in your voice. And you have that right.
“No, not really.” his frowns. Knowing he needed to do more.
“But I’m willing to work as hard as I need to. If you will have me?”
His green eyes filled with sorrow. the feeling to leave him here, with nothing like he did to you. But you couldn’t. You felt better in his presence as he looked at you.
“I’ll allow it, but we take this slow.” All he could do was smile again and nod his head in understanding.
even if you didn’t trust him. he healed your heart in the matter of seconds.
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Note
Lucerys' funerals and Jace saying he'd ratehr die himself than lose another of his brothers and being heartbroken and you comforting/being there for him
Although Jacaerys looks really good in his new clothes, I'm not ready for this scene. It will most likely happen in episode 1. I tried to minimize the sadness, but be prepared for tears
Warnings: graphic details/mention of Lucerys' death,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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Three days after Lucerys left to deliver a message on Storm’s End, dreadful news reached Rhaenyra: her son was dead. A raven from Lord Borros reported that a fisherman had discovered Lucerys’ head and neck washed up beneath the cliffs of Storm's End. 
First, her father and her stillborn daughter. Then, her crown. And now her teenage son, her sweet boy Lucerys. Rhaenyra had known loss in her life, but how much grief and pain could one person bear before they’re inconsolable?
The cause of Lucerys’ death was a mystery, but Daemon vowed to uncover the truth. Although he wasn’t his son by blood, he cared about the boy. The storm alone could not have decapitated him, no matter how fierce.
The young prince’s remains were brought to Dragonstone, but Rhaenyra needed more. Determined and heartbroken, she flew on Syrax’s back, searching for ten days for any remains of Lucerys — or Arrax. If the storm caused them to crash, there should be more evidence, right? Yet, the Queen found nothing.
During these ten days, Jacaerys returned from the North with promising news about the Vale and Winterfell. He entered the quiet castle with a smile on his face, impatient to tell his mother about her new allies, but it washed away when you told him about his little brother.
Jacaerys' stomach churned, refusing to believe the words. Lucerys couldn't be dead. He saw him a few days ago, they were sparring on the beach.
‘’No… That’s not true,’’ he denied, shaking his head. 
‘’They found parts of his body, I…I’m sorry, Jace. Luke is dead.’’ 
Jacaerys stood still for a moment, his face pale and expressionless as the reality of your words began to sink in. He was rarely ever struck, but losing a brother felt like a part of him was being ripped away. You watched as he brought a hand over his heart, filled with a deep, aching pain. His face contorted and his eyes welled up with tears. 
Seeing him break was rare, and it tore at your heart. 
He clenched his jaw, trying to hold back the tears, and looked at you, his eyes filled with despair. ‘’How did it happen?’’ he whispered, his voice barely audible.
The King’s passing had been a significant loss for the Seven Kingdoms, but Jacaerys was never close to his grandsire. He had seen him occasionally in King’s Landing and at the occasional dinner, but the King had been very ill. His death had been inevitable. 
Lucerys, however, was young and healthy, with his whole life ahead of him.
A tear slipped down Jacaerys’ face. He never thought he would have to live a life without his brother.
You shook your head, wishing you had answers. ‘’We don’t know. Daemon is looking for answers.’’
The day of the funeral, Dragonstone was silent, grieving the loss of the young prince. 
Your stomach was tied in a knot as you dressed yourself. A maid came to your door, asking if you wanted her help this morning, but you politely declined. Today was going to be emotional and you wanted to get ready in privacy.
When you finished clasping your necklace, you glanced at Jacaerys and noticed he was struggling. He couldn’t get his hands to stop shaking, making it impossible to fasten his brooch right. He made a noise of frustration and you walked over to him. 
‘’Let me help.’’ you said softly, securing the brooch to his cloak and doublet, and smoothing his collar.
He thanked you with the smallest smile, grateful to have you in his life — especially in dark times. He couldn’t have found a better person to call his wife. 
‘’Have you gotten the clothes from Luke’s chamber?’’ you asked.  
Jacaerys let out a heavy breath. ‘’Y-yeah. They’re over there, on the bed.’’ 
It was his idea to take some of Lucerys’ clothes to burn with what was found of his body. It looked less disturbing than a single head in the middle of the funeral pyre.  
‘’I knew there would be deaths during the war — it’s inevitable —, but I didn’t think Luke would be the first to go. I should have taught him how to navigate a dragon during a storm…’’
You cupped his face between your hands, making him look at you. ‘’Don’t go there,’’ you said firmly, holding his teary eyes. ‘’What happened was not your fault, Jace.’’ 
Jacaerys closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. ‘’I know,’’ he whispered, his voice breaking. ‘’A part of me cannot help but feel some guilt. Luke was always scared of flying, of not being able to control his dragon. And now— now he’s dead.’’ 
You pressed your forehead against his, holding back your own tears. You tried to think of something to say, but no words would alleviate the pain. 
‘’I would rather die than lose another of my brothers.’’
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joedirtymadre · 5 months
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Angst+fluffy Luffy x reader where the reader almost dies! Like, after a battle reader faints and luffy gets worried sick cuz he remembers of Ace death
Doctor!
LUFFY X READER! FLUFF + ANGST!
“Come on (Y/N)!” Luffy grinned as he dragged you towards the island’s main plaza. “Luffy, we're supposed to be undercover… Nami warned us how this island is one of the Navy’s bases,” you warned as you continued following your boyfriend.
But he continued on towards the main plaza, hoping to find a food cart. “We’ll be fine, plus you’re with me! I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he smiled as he grabbed your hand. “Plus you’re just as strong as me, so we’ll be fine!” He added. You playfully rolled your eyes and nodded.
“Finally! The plaza!” He smiled. “Oh look, they have ramen over there. Or takoyaki there! Or cotton candy there!” He said excitedly as he scanned the different food carts. “Did you even bring bellies?” You asked. You quickly noticed him freeze up. “I’ll take that as a no…” you sighed.
You watched as he slowly turned to you with the biggest puppy eyes. “Luffy…” you sighed. “Ok then I guess we can go back to the ship,” he moped as he walked past you. “Oh shut up, you know I’m gonna buy you something,” you rolled your eyes. You watched as his mood changed in an instant, “Thanks! That’s why you’re the best girlfriend in the world!” He smiled as he pulled you into a tight hug. “Yeah, yeah… you owe me Straw Hat,” you smiled. “I’ll give you one of my takoyaki!” He smiled as he dragged you back to the carts. “Just one?” You asked yourself.
After you watched Luffy eat 2 bowls of ramen, 4 orders of takoyaki, and 1 bag of cotton candy… because you didn’t want to deal with a sugar rush. It was finally time to head back to the ship.
“That was good,” Luffy burped, as you both walked down the path. “Yeah, the ramen was pretty good. But I think I’ll always prefer Sanji’s,” you replied. “Yeah, that’s true!” Luffy smiled. You soon arrived to the cliff where the crew hid the ship and noticed it was gone.
The ship’s hiding spot was now filled with soldiers, and Navy ships.
“Did we go the wrong way?” Luffy asked. “No, this is the spot. Maybe some soldiers found them and tried to trap them,” You told him, worried for your friends. “Do you think they escaped?” He asked. “Franky, Brooke, and Usopp stayed behind, I’m sure that Franky was able to escape from them. Plus they’re probably waiting here, hoping to catch one of us who stepped into the island,” you explain. “Well let’s go look for them,” he said.
“No, we should go back into town,” you said, stopping him from running off. “Why? The ship is missing!” He shouted. “Because what if the others don’t know that the ship was found. That means the Navy knows we’re here, so they’re probably looking for them. We have to warn them, we have to find them before any soldier does,” you explained. “But…” he trailed off.
“Come on Luffy! Plus Franky has gotten us out of a bunch of bad spots, I’m sure he did it again! We need to find the oth-“ you stopped yourself. “(Y/-“ you quickly placed your hand over his mouth. “Shh,” you whispered as you heard some faint footsteps.
But it was too late. “Well, well, well… I thought I saw something on top of this cliff,” you heard a booming voice from the trees. You looked over and saw a large bald headed man in a suit. With around 10 soldiers behind him. “Crap…” you muttered. “It’s fine (Y/N), we can handle the- HEY!” Luffy yelled as a net shot at him.
“Luffy?” You called out and noticed your boyfriend struggling inside the net.
“Sea prism net, it works great when someone’s not expecting it,” the bald headed man laughed. You rushed over to Luffy without thinking, “I-I’ll get you out!” You stuttered. “(Y/N) no! Behind you!” He shouted weakly.
You quickly turned your attention back to the group and realized they were closing in on you two. “I’m sure bringing you two in would promote me to Vice Admiral,” the bald man said. “(Y/N) please run,” Luffy begged. You shook your head, “I got this, we’re ok when we’re together,” you said determined as you rose up and turned your attention towards the troop.
You were a weaponist, but all you had was a small knife. You pulled it out and the soldiers began to laugh. “That’s it? You’re planning to take us all down with that?” The man laughed. “Yep,” you said softly, before charging at one soldier who was still laughing.
You sliced him up and kicked him towards a small bunch of soldiers. Causing them to be knocked over. “Fire! Fire!” You heard one of the soldiers shout. You leapt into the air and avoided any gunshots.
You landed on another soldier and sliced up his face. You continued to cut up as many of them as you could while knocking others into one another. “How are you men still having trouble with this girl?” The tall man yelled. You raced towards Luffy and began cutting at the net, but it won’t budge. “(Y/N)… behind…” you heard Luffy say. Before you could turn around you were quickly grabbed from your hair and yanked up.
“You’re a lot of trouble for a little girl,” the man growled. “D-Don’t touch her…” Luffy said weakly as he slowly thrashed under the net. “Like you can talk! Like I said… you’re a lot of trouble, so I’m dealing with you now before you can get loose again,” he said menacingly. You squirmed and thrashed, trying to rip yourself out of his grasp, but nothing worked.
“Well good thing the flyer says alive or dead,” the man said as he lifted his sword. Before he could hurt you you jabbed the small knife into the hand that held you. The man screamed and you rushed towards Luffy.
“(Y/N) please… run,” he begged. You shook your head, searching for the strings that kept the net tied. “You bitch!” You heard. You ignored his words and finally found the knot to the net, you sliced at it with your knife and opened the net.
You smiled as you were finally able to free your boyfriend. “Luff…y,” you gasped. You felt a sharp pain pierce through your torso. “(Y/N)!” You heard, but your hearing was slowly being taken over by a sharp ringing.
Luffy’s POV
I stared in shock, but before I could think I landed on the guy that hurt her. My fists pounding on his face, until he’s unrecognizable. Before I become too caught up on him I quickly turn back to (Y/N).
She’s laying on her back holding onto her wound. I rushed over and slowly picked her up. “(Y/N)! Hey, I’m here, I’m here. You’re ok now, I-I just need Chopper. He’ll fix this! S-So don’t worry… fuck!” I panicked as I raced towards the plaza. I need a doctor, any doctor. She can’t die, I won’t let her. I thought as I raced through the forest.
I made it back to the plaza and scouted the area for
Chopper or for anyone. “I-I need a doctor…” I choked out. People began to stare at us with worried looks. “I need a doctor!” I screamed. “Please! Anyone! Please!” I cried out. Residents stared at me with panicked looks as I ran around, hoping to find someone to help. But no one stepped up, they all just stared.
My legs felt weak, and I fell to my knees, still holding her. My vision is too blurry, “Please anyone! I’m begging you! I can’t let her die!” I begged as I pressed (Y/N) closer to my chest. She can’t die, she’s supposed to be with me forever…
“Follow me!” I heard a voice call out. I snapped my head towards the voice and noticed an older man in front of a building, motioning over towards him. I jumped up and raced over, “Can you save her? Please tell me you can save her!” I shouted. “It seems she’s lost quite a bit of blood… but hurry and set her down inside! We can’t waste any more time!” The grandpa demanded and I ran inside and placed her on a small white bed that was inside the tiny office.
I watched the man rush over to (Y/N) and began placing pressure on her wound. “Hold this, she’s going to have to do an emergency surgery. I need to get ready!” He instructed and I rushed over to take his spot. After a few minutes he was back with gloves and tools. “I can take it from here, go wait outside,” he said. “No! Let me-“ he interrupted me. “I said get out! I need total concentration!” He yelled. I hesitated, but forced myself to go outside.
I sat outside and stared at the dried blood on my hands. “I should have protected her! What kind of capt- what kind of boyfriend am I?” I cried out. “It happened again! Someone I care about… I couldn’t save them…” I said as my hands snaked. “Luffy!” I quickly looked up and saw Nami, Sanji, and Chopper. “Y-You guys…” I said softly. “We saw the Navy ships, and- i-is that… blood?” Nami asked. “Where’s (Y/N)?” Chopper asked worriedly. “S-She, I… I couldn’t-" I was interrupted with a kick, sending me flying back.
Sanji grabbed me by the collar, “Where is she? If something bad happened to her…” he trailed off. “Sanji!” Nami called out.
“Now I’m not sure if this rowdiness is the best thing for your friend right now…” a soft voice said. We all turned and saw the old doctor standing at the entrance of his office, wiping his hands. I shoved Sanji off of me, and raced over to him. “How is she? Is she ok?” I asked. The doctor stared at me for what felt like a century. “She’s… she’s fine my boy,” he said as he patted my shoulder.
I lunged onto the grandpa, “Thank you… thank you for helping her. I thought I would lose her,” I cried. He patted my back, “Well she’s a tough gal, a little too tough,” he smiled. “She’s already awake,” he said softly as he pulled away. My eyes widened, “Can I see her?” I asked. “Hmm… well I’m sure a quick visit wouldn’t hurt…” he said softly as he led us into his office.
As soon as I walked in, I rushed over to her. She was sitting up, looking out the window. “(Y-Y/N)?” I choked out. She jumped from my voice and slowly turned towards me, she then smiled once our eyes met. “Luffy,” she said softly. I rushed over to her and collapsed, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I should’ve done better, I’m sorry, please don’t leave me…” I cried onto her lap. I felt a soft hand play with my hair, “Stop acting like I’m dead, I’m fine. Just a little scratch,” she giggled. “I love you,” I said softly. “I love you too,” she smiled as she wiped my tears.
“(Y/N)!” Chopped cried as he hopped onto her. “Hi guys,” she smiled. “Are you ok?” Nami asked as she shoved me out of the way. “I’m fine, just a bad scratch,” she smiled. “Well good, or else I would’ve killed your boyfriend,” Sanji said. “So, let’s go back to the ship?” (Y/N) asked. “We found it on the other side of the island!” Chopper said. “Well I’m not so sure she should be moving yet,” the grandpa said. “I can carry her,” I said. “Well… the Navy is looking for you now…” he muttered. “I’m a doctor as well, and I know this isn’t the best thing for the patient right now. But if anything happens I can take care of her!” Chopper explained. “Well alright then,” the grandpa said. We all nodded and prepared to safely transport (Y/N) back to the ship.
… Nighttime…
I never left (Y/N)’s side, as soon as we arrived at the ship she fell asleep and hasn’t woken up since. I even missed dinner to make sure she doesn’t wake up alone. After a few minutes she slowly opened her eyes. “Luffy,” She smiled. “(Y/N)!” I smiled back. “Have you been here all this time?” She asked me. “Yeah, I didn’t want you to wake up alone. I also… wanted to make sure you were ok,” I said softly. “I’m sorry (Y/-“ she interrupted me. “Stop, I wasn’t careful enough. I’m ok, I promise,” she said as she cupped my cheek.
“I know but I was so scared, I thought… I thought I was going to lose you like-“ I cut myself off. “I know and I’m sorry for scaring you, but you found me a doctor right?” She asked. I slowly nodded. “So you saved me, and I’m very grateful,” she said as she pulled me into a soft kiss. “Just… always keep your weapons bag on you at all times,” I say. She laughed and nodded. “I’ll keep an extra set of weapons on me too, just in case,” I said. “Sounds like a deal,” she smiled. “I love you,” she said. “I love you too,” I said as I gently pulled her into a kiss.
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lovifie · 6 months
Text
Lift Me Off My Feet
Chapter 12: Finale
Masterlist
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12
“You are not listening!” You shout, frustrated with the man.
In the couple of weeks that you have known and lived with them, you never expected that you would end up arguing with them. Even less with Price.
“No, Birdie. You are the one that needs to listen!” The man argued back.
“You got me fired, John! What else do you want me to hear?” You ask, running your hands through your hair. 
It finally set in, the reality that the idyllic life of living with the four of them without a worry was just an illusion. You were here because you were hiding, and they were here because they were hiding you. 
“I didn't get you fired, Birdie. Your boss did.” Price says, crossing his arms.
“Don't get sassy with me! He told you that they needed to know if I could get back to work any soon or they would be forced to fire me and you told them to do so!” You shout again, feeling like Price is lying to your face. “Why would you do that?!”
“Because you hate that job!” He shouts back. “And you don't need to work!”
“Yes, I do, Price! Yes, I do!” You say, a dry laugh leaving your throat. “Like everyone! I can't just live sponging off of you guys!”
“That's not what's happening and you know it, birdie!” He exclaims. “Don't manipulate the situation into making it look like a bloody transaction!”
“I'm manipulating the situation?!” You ask, pointing to yourself. 
“Yes! You are making it look like we are paying you to stay with us, birdie!” He explains, moving his hands to his hips.
“Oh, for god's sake, Price!” You exclaim, rubbing your face. “Why don't you exaggerate it a bit more?! I don't even know why I'm arguing with you about my job!”
“Neither do I?! Because I think it is pretty much settled!” He says, walking away towards the kitchen. 
“IT IS NOT SETTLE!” You scream, shocked by his response. “The reason why I don't know why we are arguing is because I don't know who gave you the right to choose over me!”
That makes him turn around, looking at you like you grow a second head. “Well, excuse me. For believing I have a say in your life, I just assumed I could since we bloody love each other and all that!”
“Don't pull that shit on me, Price! This has nothing to do with love!” You say, crossing your arms. “I don't have a say on your work! So why should you have it on me!”
“It's not the bloody same!” He says, rubbing his face.
“It's not for you because it doesn't benefit you!” You scream, looking back when you hear the door open as Gaz, Soap and Ghost enter the house. The three of them having left the house not too long ago to buy breakfast. 
“What's going on? We could hear the shouts from outside.” Gaz asks, entering first and looking between Price and you, seeing the wide cliff between the two of you.
“Nothing!” Price barks, crossing his arms again. 
You ignore the looks on everyone's face, instead walking to the door. 
“Where are you going now?!” Price asks, moving to be able to see you.
“Out! So I can fucking breathe without feeling I'm choking!” You say, opening the door after the boys closed it. 
“Don't go far!” Price says, still caring under all his bad mood 
“I KNOW I CAN'T GO FAR!” You say, slamming the door on your way out.
You hate screaming, hate shouting, hate raising your voice and even more if it is at Price or any of the men inside. It's not their fault and screaming at each other is not the way to fix it. But you can't help it, tired of being pushed around at everyone's mercy without asking what's your choice. 
Sitting down on the step right outside the house, not wanting or needing to go any further, you hide your face behind your hands, letting your palms get wet with your tears. 
“Hey, you alright?” A man's voice says, making you look up, to come face to face with an unfamiliar face. 
You don't have time to answer, because something hits the back of your head and everything blends to black.
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Price updates the boys once you are out, he tells them your ex-boss called, told him you needed to get back to work the next day or he would fire you, he tells them how he told him to go ahead since you couldn't go back to work jet, he tells them about how he wasn't able to tell you about the empty position at base that you could filled to work with them because you started screaming, he tells them about how he lost his cool and just screamed back instead of explaining.
He tells them everything, feeling like the worst person in the world for making you leave the house with tears on your face. It's Gaz the first one to stand up. “I'll check on her.” He mumbles, as he walks outside to an empty staircase. He walks down, checking both sides of the street only to find it just as empty. 
An anxious feeling starts to brew on his stomach, entering back to the house with a worried expression on his face. “She's gone.” He says almost casually, as if not voicing one of the biggest fears the men around him have had for the last month.
“What do you mean she's gone?” Soap asks. “She must be around the block, she'll be back in a bit, mate.”
No one believes him, not even himself. You wouldn't have walked out of his sight like that, not without dragging them with you, not without a phone, not without telling them. 
There is a beat of silence, each debating whether it is plausible that you simply left, all of them feeling that the most possible chance is that something happened to you. 
“I'll check the car camera, it is parked right in front of the door.” Ghost says, taking his phone out to check it. 
They all check the screen, seeing the door open and close. They see you sit down, body shaking as you cry, Price feeling his heart shrunk at the sight knowing it was his doing. 
They then see the two men walking in front of you, how one of them takes advantage that you have your face covered to stand behind you, how the other calls your attention to look at your face, and how once he knows it's you he nods to the other man, who knocks you out hitting you with a bat at the back of your head.
The wave of all the different emotions hitting them at once keeps them in place for a second, paralyzed on their chair. Soap jumps first, talking about checking the cameras on the street, checking the cars, their licence place, anything. 
But it doesn't reach Price's ears, the only thing he can hear is the voices in his head telling him that he has failed twice now. The first one he wasn't able to keep you close enough when you left in the middle of the night, and now he was the one that pushed you away. 
You were just on the other side of the door a moment ago and now… now he didn't know where you were. All because he didn't explain himself and let his emotions take control of him.
“Price!” It's Ghost's voice that wakes him up, standing beside the sergeants. “Move.”
That's all he says, and that's all Price needs. 
They'll get you back, whatever it takes. 
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Two weeks.
That is what it takes them to finally find a trail.
That is what it takes Price to breathe again.
That's what it takes Simon to let be seen outside the office.
That's what it takes Soap to let himself be embraced by any of the others.
That's what it takes Gaz to stop baring his teeth to everyone. 
They have a trail. 
And god knows that's all they need. 
What you need, is a doctor. A shower. A glass of water. A nap. Anything that is not forced or thrown at you. 
Two weeks of torture. 
Two weeks of just getting hurt, insulted, humiliated, all of it just for the purpose of causing you pain. 
The henchmen of the man you used to say good morning to were the ones that have stolen you away. 
The ones that have thrown you into an empty dark room.
The ones that have “interrogated” you about who you worked for. 
The ones that have “interrogated” you about how much they paid you. 
You didn't say a word, which usually resulted in a punch to the face or a kick to the ribs. 
You want to believe that they will find you. 
That they will take you back home.
That Price will forgive you for shouting at him.
Hell, if you die and the last thing you did was shout at him.
You'll live.
They'll find you.
Two weeks.
Of fighting with yourself.
The side that says you'll live.
And the side that tells you to give up already.
The second one usually wins.
Like today, when the man that enters the room every day walks up to you, limping and with a knife in his hand. 
He yanks your hair, pulling you up on your feet and pressing the knife on your throat. “Make a sound and it'll be the last thing you do.”
He moves you into a chokehold, pushing you in front of him as he walks down the hall. There is shouting and the sound of guns inside the building. 
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The moment he sees the car where they push you in, the one they saw on the cameras; Price almost needs to pull Simon back from running inside the building.
This is it.
This is the headquarters they couldn't find for so long. 
The headquarters where all the important information and the guns they have looked for so long are at.
The headquarters where everything that matters is.
The headquarters where they kept you at. 
Price sends Ghost to the building on the other side of the road, not trusting the man in face to face with what they can find inside. 
And he obliges, hating the rank differences.
They move in, clearing room after room.
No sign of you.
The move to the second floor.
You are not there.
More and more people that hit the ground when they found them.
You are still missing. 
Until you see it. 
The unmistakable blue cap on Gaz's head.
And you shout.
You shout louder than you shout at Price.
You shout louder than when Soap scared you hiding behind the door. 
You shout louder than when you called for Ghost when you thought he fell on the shower but it was just the shampoo bottle.
You have never shouted at Gaz.
Until now.
And the moment you do you feel the blade dig into your skin, moving your hand between the knife and your neck.
The three of them turn to you, immediately updating Ghost and telling him to move. 
The window behind you is almost like a target for a perfect shot. 
But Ghost can't shoot.
Not when he can see your head.
Not when there is a possibility that he may hit you. 
But he can when you move.
When you grab the blade, breaking the skin of your fingers, and you pull back just enough to squish yourself down. 
You are still against his chest, the man still holding you. But Ghost can now see your head, lower than before. And the arms around you quickly go limp, falling forward taking you with him. 
A ringing in your ear keeps you from Price's voice calling your name. Everything is dizzy for a moment, there is a warm sensation on your elbow and when you look back a red pool of blood is bleeding onto your clothes.
You liked that t-shirt. 
You'll need to try with peroxide, see if you can take the stain out. 
Your brain ignores the corpse lying next to you, but for some reason you can't stop looking at the blood on your elbow.
It isn't until Price cups your face, your grimey, bloody and sunken face. And you look up to him, his blue eyes. 
And you let yourself cry.
After two weeks.
You cry.
So hard you can't see nor hear anything. 
You cling onto Price, hiding your face on his neck, digging your nails on his back needing to feel him under your skin. 
Apologies fly from one to the other.
For shouting, for pushing away, for failing to protect, for not shouting, for being taken away.
You feel two more pairs of arms around you, feeling the fourth person only when you start to leave the building. 
Not much longer an ambulance arrives, finally taking you to safety.
The four men in the car right behind. 
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Recovery is just as slow.
No permanent physical damage.
But not all the wounds are on the skin.
Those heal quite fast. 
And soon you are back on your feet. 
On your scared, wobbly feet.
The boys are back around, always one of them close.
“I'm never leaving you out of my sight again.” Price says, cupping your face as he kisses your forehead. “I don't care if I sound like a madman.”
They make it easy to get back.
Price finally tells you about the job at base, which you gladly apply for.
Surprisingly you got it, and started working soon.
It was easy.
You got a better flat, easy to pay when four more people chime in for the bills. 
You got a better job, with better pay and a better boss.
You got, not only one, but four lovers. 
And you have all the time of your life to heal everything that's left. 
You still wonder how you managed to get into your garage that night. 
But now you're glad you did.
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And with this, ladies and gentlemen.
Lift Me Off My Feet comes to an end ❤️.
Thanks for joining along, for all the support that you have given me the last couple of months, for the patience between chapters, special thanks to @darkangel4121 for listening to me complain so much and to everyone who has joined and will join the blog.
I love you, my lovelies 💗
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kaiijo · 1 year
Text
AUDACIOUS — MIYA OSAMU
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pairing: miya osamu x fem! reader content: timeskip! osamu, fluff, comedy
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you had already told your sister that it was a bad idea but she begged and pleaded with you, and you’ve always had a huge soft spot for her. when you were little, you’d let her play with your toys, would cover up for her when she broke curfew, and played wingman on more than one occasion. all she has to do is give you her big, round puppy dog eyes and a jutted lip and you’re putty in her hands. Really, if you had a stronger constitution, this could all have been avoided.
because, right now, you’re sitting in your dining room, your husband across the table with his arms crossed. he’s eyes are narrowed and he asks, “so, what do ya have to say for yerself?”
you fiddle with your fingers, refusing to meet his glance. “I had no other choice, ‘samu.”
“bullshit. ya did and ya know it.”
“babe—”
he holds his hand up. “i don’t want to hear it. i expected better from ya.”
you head shoots up and you throw your hands up, exasperated. “i’m sorry, ‘samu, i already apologized a million times!”
he huffs, “sorry’s not gonna cut it. you broke my trust.” there’s a beat and then he looks you squarely in the eyes. “was it worth it? worth it to break my heart?”
you can’t contain the snort you let out. “really, babe? i thought you left the dramatics to atsumu.”
“s’not dramatic when you cheated on me!”
you roll your eyes. “you did not just say that to me. all i did was go to onigiri empire!”
osamu makes a sound of disgust. “don’t make it sound so casual! ya directly patronized my main competitor!”
“my sister wanted to try it!”
“oh, so if yer sister jumped off a cliff, ya would to?”
“oh my god, it’s not that deep, ‘samu!” you rub your temples but when you glance at osamu’s scowling face, you cross the room and stand in front of him. placing both your hands on his shoulders, you say carefully, “i’m sorry i ate at onigiri empire, baby. i won’t do it again, promise. even if my sister begs me to go again, i’ll say no. can you please not be mad at me anymore?”
you take a page out of your sister’s book and give osamu your best pouty, puppy dogs eyes and you see how he immediately softens. if there’s someone who’s more whipped for another person than you are for your sister, it’s osamu for you. he lets out a long breath and says, “i’m sorry i overreacted, sweetheart.”
osamu stands and opens his arms, which you eagerly step into, and he wraps them tightly around you. he tucks his head into your shoulder and murmurs, “as long as ya didn’t like theirs more than mine.”
“how could i? i know yours are made with love.”
he chuckles and presses a kiss to your cheek.
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a few days later, when you come home, osamu calls you into the kitchen. you cock your head in confusion; osamu hardly ever invites you to the kitchen. you’ve been banned from it ever since you nearly burned it down trying to make your husband breakfast in bed for your first anniversary seven years ago. hanging your coat up, you cautiously creep into the kitchen.
osamu’s standing at the kitchen island and he perks up when you come in, beckoning you over with a wave of his hand. you eye his suspiciously as you walk over and he pecks the crown of your head. “how was yer day at work?”
“good, mitsubishi was annoying as usual.” you glance over his shoulder, where two onigiri sit on different plates. you ask, “did you make a new recipe?”
he shrugs and just pushes both plates towards you. “try a bite of each.”
“you’re acting weird, ‘samu.” you pause and say, “you’re actually acting like you did when you and atsumu made me guess which one you were.”
he gives you a look. “just try them.”
you sigh, “okay, okay.”
you take a bite on the left onigiri, savoring the sticky rice, seaweed, and kombu — your favorite flavor. you take a bit of the right one and it’s also kombu. you look at your husband, perplexed. “these are the same flavors, baby, and you already have kombu in the store.”
“which one did you like more?”
you blink. “what?”
“which one did you like more?” he repeats.
you contemplate and then point at the left one. “this one has a fuller flavor, i guess? ‘samu, what’s this—”
osamu lets out a whoop of victory and scoops you into his arms, lifting  you up and spinning you around. he cheers, “my baby knows my onigiri’s better!”
ah, you think with a fond roll of your eyes, so that’s what this is about.
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