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#and like that’s still a miracle you know
igotanidea · 1 day
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Somebody's watching me : AK!Jason x reader
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Request: AK! jason hears y/n’s name from his opponent and just goes nuts like he goes home looking for her.
A/N : the requests is a little twisted, as usual, but I hope you'll still like it anon :D
***
It was gone.
His old life was gone.
And with it, everyone he knew before.
All that was left was revenge, hate, rage. And this unstoppable need for killing someone, destroy something, wreck havoc on every single person who did him any wrong.
Bruce.
Fucking Batman.
He was the Arkham Knight now.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Focused on building his position so that no one, no fucking one, would ever hold any power over him.
And if that meant keeping tabs on everyone under his watchful gaze so be it.
And if that meant putting some pressure on everyone who dared to do as much as step a toe over the line, so be it.
And disturbances?
Defnitely not something he was about to allow.
And now he was holding a gun to one of his goons head.
"What did you do?" he hissed, his voice distorted by the helmet
"Sir, I --"
"What did you do?" Jason repeated pressing the metal more into man's head.
"I-- I disobeyed--"
"You disobeyed. And do you know what happens to people who disobey me?"
"Sir, please this is--"
Jason shot in the air and the man almost fell to his feet.
"It was-"
"I'm not going to give a warning shot again"
"I was-"
"I'm gonna count to three now. One."
"There's this girl."
"Two."
"Her name is Y/N."
"thr-- what?"
"She is very distant family, but --"
"Shut up!" Jason yelled, his face twisted with rage, not that anyone could see his expression hidden under the metal. "Shut the fuck up you hear me!" it took him two steps to be in front of the man, yanking him up by the collar and pinning to the wall with brutal force, half-chocking him "you ever do as much as think her name again and I'll kill you and put your head on a stick as a warning to anyone who dare have a thought of himself. YOU HEAR ME!?"
"y-ye-yes..."
"now get the fuck out of here!" the man was violently thrown on the floor, getting up as fast as he could and rushing out the door. It was truly a miracle he lived to tell the tale, cause Arkham Knight was not known for his leniency.
But Y/N.
Someone from his past.
More than someone.
A girl, a woman, he was once in love with.
A woman, whose name he forgot in the pursuit after Batman.
Or rather - tried to forget.
She was the only one who ever got him. The only one to accept him fully, with all his flaws.
His Y/N.
His Y/N who betrayed him just like anyone else. Who forgot him. Who moved on without giving as much as a single thought to him when he was lost. Who was never looking for him.
His Y/N.
It;s been years since he heard anyone mention her. Years since he swore to never get manipulated again.
And then.
Just a few letters mixed together. Just a few sounds.
And she was right behind his eyes, just like he remembered her. Because even his dark side refused to let go of the rememberance of their time together.
Her laugh. Her smile. Her eyes and freckles from the sun, as fleeting as the summer days they were spending together. Her calmness, care and tenderness when she was patching up his woudns, tiredlessly putting on bandaids and stitches.
Fuck!
He didn't need that.
Just another phase of brainwashing. If not from his capturers than from his own men.
Hell no.
He was going to say no to the past life once and for all.
Hunting her down, wherever she may be.
See her for the last time.
Pour hatred in his heart, destroying all the remaining piece of useless softness and caring he carried in his soul.
Burn the last link connecting him to the past down.
***
She was spending the night in her old apartment. Sitting by the same desk, with the same lamp, in the same posture she ever did.
One leg half bent and folded under her ass, the other hanging loose in the air.
"You're going to end up with numbness..." he muttered to himself, watching her from the opposite rooftop.
Obviously she couldn;t hear him, but something made her raise her head and look outside the window while simultaniously changing the position.
Jason smiled despite himself.
His heart skipped a beat and sudden warmth spread in his chest.
Only for a second though, since he rememembered why he was here in the first place.
Look at her.
So fucking good.
So fucking calm and happy, while he-
fuck!
traitorous bitch.
Maybe it was her plan from the very beggining. Conspiring with Batman only to get rid of him, so they could both be free of the burdening presence of a man once known as Jason Todd.
Y/N...
Regardless of how sweet her name may have tasted on his tongue he would rather cut it off than fall down that rabit hole again.
He was cold as ice. Brutal. Cruel. Ruthless.
And it was not going to change because he saw her.
Not in the million years.
She was the reason of his fallout. She should have stopped him from going on that stupid mission. She should have made him stay, showed him she cared enough to keep him grounded.
It was all her fault that that after being captured all he could think about was how she was going to survive without him. How her heart would break into million pieces, instead of figuring out a way to free himself.
It was all her fault that he became the Arkham Knight. Cause inhumanity was equal with survival. And survival meant living. And living meant keeping his legacy.
So yes, he hated her.
He hated her, because every single thing he did and every little thing done to him was because and thanks to her.
She was the reason of him getting on top, but also the person responsible for his failure as a person.
She was nothing.
She was everything.
And for the first time since capturing, torturing and tranformation Jason felt conflicted.
Y/N...
His Y/N...
Not his anymore...
***
When some force made her stand up and come to window all she saw was a blink of metal on the rooftop. And since she spend half of her life with vigilantes, it was easy to realise that this must have been one of them.
But the silhouette of a running man couldn;t have been Dick nor Tim nor any other hero she would recognise.
And despite herself, she felt a shiver running down her spine.
Someone was watching her.
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kathaynesart · 3 days
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I’m legitimately spilling tears over the last update. I am a mom, and going through labor is terrifying. Wonderful for what’s to come, but terrifying. So having it depicted in the middle of a war zone, where the outcome is unclear at best? Such a beautiful visual picture of how that experience can often feel. Maybe I’m reading super deeply into it, being 34 and all and starting to feel those experiences in a different way as I get older, but the unspoken parallels really did it for me.
And the sweet tenderness the brothers have? Just sobbing. Goodness, I am suppose to be working right now and instead I’m having a breakdown at how gorgeous this all is.
Really amazing work, Kat, I just love this so much.
And an additional side note- I am so glad you’ve been taking your time and allowing your body to heal and I’m hoping you are feeling so much better.
That means so much to me to hear! I really want to do right by all who have gone through child birth. It is both beautiful and terrifying and can still be quite dangerous even in this modern day and age. I have so much respect for those who choose to have children and I feel they’re not given the praise deserving of being absolute miracle workers.
I’m just glad to know that this little project can help put a small spotlight on just how special people like you are!
And thank you, there’s a lot going on right now so just trying to keep my head above water through it all! Just keep swimming!
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august126 · 2 days
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— ꒰ including ꒱ -Cat!scaramouche x fem! reader
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — fem! reader, established relationship, dirty talk,
— ꒰ summary — ꒱ helping Cat!Scaramouche in heat
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You haven't seen Scaramouche for a couple of days and have searched everywhere, you begin to think he just up and left but as you search for him one morning Childe walks by you cracking up and barely holding it together.
You ask him what's up and he manages to pull himself together, “It must have been a miracle I wasn't killed by the balladeer because I managed to get away fast enough.”
Finding out that your lover had gone half a mile away to a cottage for a week because of something he wasn't telling you. You thanked him and went off to go confront him when the ginger pulled you back.
“He’s pretty pissy right now so be careful he doesn’t take a swipe at you. I’ll see you later, girlie/buddy. I need to thank whoever caused this.” So you set off for that place and after a few minutes came upon a small cottage near a lake, knocking on the door and hearing some things move and shift around inside.
You get concerned so you walk in and move to the bedroom, seeing Scaramouche sitting near his desk with his head down, his hat still on, which was strange because he always took it off when he was alone and inside.
Hearing you come forward, he doesn't turn around and only grumbles, continuing to complete paperwork. “Get out! You’re only bothering me! I’ll be back in a couple days so don’t worry like you always do, it’s pathetic.”
You of course don't buy it at all and to face him, ripping his hat off and seeing two small violet cat ears on his head that twitched when you tried to touch them. He muttered how idiotic you were to do something like that but what caught your eye was that he had a fierce blush covering his face.
Not only that but he was all hot and sweaty like he'd just finished training for a couple hours, which couldn't be true because of all the paperwork that has recently been completed next to him.
Your eyes betrayed you as you looked over at his ears again, seeing them move at your gaze and how soft to the touch they were before you heard him growl and get up to move across the room. Now catching a glimpse of a feline tail swishing about in frustration, you had to admit it was adorable and now you could tell why he holed himself up so no one could see him.
And why Childe was laughing his ass off and going to probably tell all the other harbingers, which you understood was humiliating and perfectly understood why he was holed up in here. “Scara, it’s okay but why do you look so worked up? Are you sick?”
Another grumble came out of him and he shook his head, going to sit down on the bed and pat the space next to him. “You know how certain feline animals go through a period called heat?” You immediately caught on and smirked, everything clicked and you reached your hand down to his tail.
Running your fingers from the tip to the base, not missing the purr your boyfriend was making, and started playing around with it. You then moved onto his ears and blew cold air at them. They twitched and he shuddered, a sudden confidence overshadowed you. “You seem so tense. Why don’t I help?”
His tail slowed down and swished from side to side, eyes dilating when you said those words. You took that as a go ahead and leaned down to his black pants, working them off and palming the tent in his boxers.
A soft moan left his lips and Scaramouche tilted his head back, enjoying the pleasure you were giving him and grabbed the back of your head, forcing it against his erection. “Why don’t you quit teasing and actually get to work, slut?” The small damp spot where his precum wet the fabric touched your cheek and you could feel how hard he was.
You pulled down his underwear and took a long lick from the base of his shaft to the tip, curling your hand around the base and hollowing your cheeks as you sucked the tip. Circling your tongue around his cock you bopped your head up and down, kittenlicking his slit and cupping his balls. Being pushed on by his moans and the pressure on his hand increasing.
“That’s it. Your mouth is always the best~ Maybe you should just be my little cock slut instead, huh?” Moaning when he said that, you continued to suck and kiss the tip of his cock. His breath hitched and he started to buck his hips, relaxing your throat so you didn’t gag.
Scaramouche let out a loud groan as his hips faltered and you felt his dick spasm, taking in all of his cum and trying to not let a drop spill. He relaxed his hand and you got off, being brought up by his hand and kissing his lips. You panted when you broke apart and kissed his neck, taking off his clothes and slowly stripping him naked.
“Such a good girl, being so obedient for me~ You think you can take my cock, you did an amazing job sucking me off but I think my cock might be a bit too big for your small pretty pussy.” You keened at his words and shook your head, grinding your cunt on his erection.
He smirked and pulled you closer, the tip of his dick grazing your lips and you rolled your hips to gain more friction. He clicked his tongue and maneuvered his other hand down to your clit, “Hold on, I need to stretch that tight cunt out so I don’t hurt you. Then again, you’d probably get off on that, being skewered on my cock and so sex drunk that you can only scream my name.”
His fingers dipped into your cunt while his thumb circled your clit, spreading apart your labia and reaching his fingers deeper into your hole. Your lover knew your body as well as you did, almost better, he knew just where to touch you so you could cum on command and exactly where to kiss or bite on your neck so that you completely gave into him.
“I’m not that cockdrunk-“ Scara put pressure on your bud and you interrupted yourself with a moan, fighting against his hold on your waist so you could meet his thrusts. It didn’t help that not only was he strong but he knew what buttons to press and where.
But your lover wasn’t normal right now, he was in a cat-like heat and had sensitive ears and a tail, snaking your hands up to his indigo fluffy ears and stroking the very tips.
You succeeded at shaking his dominance when he moaned at his ears twitched, leaning into your hand even more and his tail wrapping around your wrist.
If you listened closely you could also hear a small purr coming from his throat. Instead of stopping like you thought, it seemed to spur him on and pump his fingers into you faster. “You don’t know what you just did, kitten.” Chuckling as he reeled you closer and closer toward an orgasm, failing to contain the lewd noises you were causing.
Gasping when you felt his tongue lick one of your nipples and sucking the tip of your breast with lips, nipping the sensitive tit and letting go when he backed up. Every reaction you were giving was pure pleasure to him, thinking that he maybe should’ve sought you out sooner rather then shutting himself in.
Scaramouche switched tits and gave some attention to the other, flicking the nipple with his tongue in time with his fingers thrusting in and out of you. You arched your back at the dual sensation and your breathing quickened, whimpering out at the knot building up. “Scara- hm- I’m cumming-“
At those words he stopped his movement all together, pulling his fingers out of your soaked pussy and bringing them up to your lips.
“I think it’s only fair that you clean up your own mess, don’t you?” Despite the clear confusion on your face you obeyed and opened your mouth, letting your tongue welcome his slick covered fingers.
“Such a pretty kitty, my pretty kitty. Sucking my fingers so well, you must be a whore for my cock if you're obeying all my orders.” You whined and went to roll your hip, desperate for something as you high died down because it could climax.
All that earned you was a slap to your ass and to your cunt, yelping at the impact. “I would’ve let you orgasm if you hadn’t tried to play with my ears, but you just had to go and give yourself a punishment.”
You tried to mumble out an apology but you were busy with fingers, lapping up your cum and pleading with your eyes that you’d be good. “Are you going to be an obedient girl?” Nodding and humming you agreed, swirling your tongue around his fingers and bobbing your head.
Internally screaming in joy when he smirked and lifted your hips, positioning you over his dick and looking at you for confirmation. You nodded and your head fell into his shoulders when he snapped his hips up. Rolling your hips against his to get him to move, kissing you and beginning to thrust into you cunt.
“Such a good cutie~ Taking my cock so well.” Lewd noises and breathing echoed the room, skin slapping against skin. He brought you in for a kiss and cupped your cheek, angling his body so he hit just the right spots.
You cried out when his cock hit one spot that made you arch your back, gasping and crying out. “There! Right there~ Scara-” Reaching your hips up so you could get that striking pleasure again and your lover meeting you.
Scaramouche put his hand on the small of your back and pushed it up, increasing the pleasure you both felt by ten fold. “You feel so good!” Moaning as you kissed and bit his neck, receiving praise from your lover with each meet of your hips.
You felt the knot build up again, you pleaded at the violet haired harbinger to let you cum and grinning in relief when he let you. “You’ve such a good pet so okay. Cum.” The damn broke and you mewled against him, milking his dick for all he’s worth.
Thighs shaking as you rode out your high, Scaramouche felt his own orgasm approaching and your walls contracting, pulling out right but he came. His small cute ears bending back and tail wrapping around your wrist. White thick ropes spurting out onto your stomach and resting his arms on either side of you, he kissed your lips.
“You alright darling?” You nodded and sighed. “Just tired. Can we rest?” He chuckled and nodded, getting up to grab a cloth to clean you up. Wiping the cum off of your stomach and outer lips, you shivered at the cool sensation and shivered.
Before throwing it away into a wastebasket and coming back to you, he snuggled into your chest and whispered how this wasn’t a total failure of a day. Laughing you agreed and settled into him, rubbing his ears and smiling when he allowed himself to be soft
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onismdaydream · 2 days
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tw: 18+ mdni. gn reader. anal fingering. mentions of toji's past abuse/upbringing. uncharacteristically soft for me. not proofread.
it's a rare thing, toji handing control over to you.
not that he doesn't trust you — he would place his life in your hands in a heartbeat, you know him far better than anyone else has ever come close to. he just feels safer when he's the one holding the reigns, no matter the situation. toji has spent too long around shady and shitty people that it's engrained in him to never let his guard down. let someone get the upper hand or be one step ahead of you and you're as good as dead.
but you...
you forced your way into toji's heart, kept pushing even when he pulled away, and carved your home in it. you made him learn to accept love, taught him that he deserves to love and be loved in return. showed him that there can be beauty in this cruel world.
though, he would never admit it — sincere and genuine expressions of emotions were still so foreign to him, but he was trying. there were other ways for him to show his affection, however. it would come in the form of his lips pressing against the top of your head when he thought you were asleep. his thumb rubbing circles on your hip when he held you close. his arm wrapping around your shoulder as you sat next to each other.
but there are moments when he felt more vulnerable, when he craves nothing more than your loving touch and sweet praise. he wants to deny those feelings, a nagging voice in the back of his mind that remind him of those days where he was forced to be on his own, thrown to the wolves without a care — inferior, weak, a mistake.
you're always there, though. always next to toji. always ready and willing and trying.
your touch is gentle where other's were not, soft and warm skin against his own, fingers tracing over the faint scars that litter his back. how he survived this long is a miracle. too many stupid and reckless decisions placing him in danger's way. you'd chastise him if you think it would make a difference. instead, you lean down, kissing down his spine and making him tense.
"'s okay, toji." he can feel your breath fanning against the small of his back, your fingers resting at his waistband. "i got you."
he's quieter when he's like this, almost as if he's afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he opens it. too in his own head.
and it's your job to get him out of there.
you take your time, admiring every inch of his body that you can reach as you strip him of his underwear. you don't want to rush this, wanting to savor each and every little reaction you pull out of toji. usually, all the attention was on you in the bedroom as he took you apart underneath him. you wanted to return the favor.
it's a simple rhythm you fall into with him. your fingers curl as you pump them in and out, a glossy sheen coating them and making the motion smooth. low groans and heavy breathing fill the space between the two of you, your sweet praise and compliments making toji's hips hump into the bed.
it doesn't take much longer for him to spill onto the sheets under him, a shudder working through his body as you pull your fingers out afterwards. he doesn't protest much as you wipe him down, letting you roll him over enough to clean his cum off his stomach.
he holds you close when you come back to him, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. his way of thanking you, of saying i love you.
and you smile softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw.
i love you, too.
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Note
Heyy! I love your work so much, I was wondering if you can do an Abby x Reader fluff were she takes care of you on your period. Take your time, Thanks! 💗💗
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tags | abby x reader, fluff fluff fluff!!
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The gilded, ethereal glow of fairy lights blanketed the room around you as you lay curled up in bed. Lined along the decorated walls of the bedroom you and Abby shared, the golden hue of light wrapped you in a tranquil embrace, almost lulling you into a deep, restful slumber as your eyelids grew heavier and heavier with each passing moment.
The death-like ache that squeezed deep within your uterus prevented that from happening.
Like a tightly-wound spool of thread, aches and pains twisted and turned throughout your stomach, knotting themselves into something completely unsalvageable. You clutched your forearm over your abdomen, curling yourself into a ball as tears threatened to spill from the corners of your furrowed eyes.
However dramatic it may have sounded, you always felt as if you were truly on your deathbed when your time of the month rolled around. Like clockwork, for one week out of every month, you'd end up curled up in a ball somewhere, howling about how this was the end.
Luckily- and by what had to have been some sort of preternatural miracle- you had been gifted with the sweetest, most greatest gift of all; Abigail Anderson.
And, as if on cue. As if Abby could sense a disturbance, she appeared within your line of sight. Adorned with a fuzzy, freshly-washed and still warm blanket thrown over her shoulder, as well as a tin box of cookies- that you had only ever seen used as your grandmother's sewing box- she walked into the room, making a B-line to the bed where you lay; poor, pitiful you.
"Brought you some stuff, angel," She spoke gently, the bed dipping down under her weight as she sat beside you. Her fingers immediately threaded through your hair, brushing stray ones from your flushed forehead and tucking them behind your ear as she smiled. "How's my girl?" She questioned after a moment of silently gazing down at you. If you weren't curled into yourself, you'd have noticed the way her pupils dilated, the dark color contrasting that of her pretty blue irises.
"I'm in hell.." You groaned, to which Abby chuckled- a sound that was quickly followed by a string of slightly amused apologies when you sent her a glare.
However, the smile that pulled at the corners of her lips fell when a faint sheen of tears glimmered in your eyes. "Aw, I know, baby.." The warm, soothing palm of her hand came up to cup your cheek, holding you as delicately as she would a piece of antique porcelain, priceless in its beauty and value. "What do you need, angel? Hm?"
Huffing, your lips downturned into a pout, frown lines indenting in the soft skin of your cheeks. "Do you know where the heating pad is?" You questioned, your tone laced in something that couldn't be described as anything other than the sound of defeat.
"Mm.." Abby hummed in thought, a faint crease forming between her light-colored eyebrows as she absentmindedly twirled pieces of your hair around her finger- something she always, almost instinctively did when she was near you. "No. Sorry, sweet girl. Haven't seen that since your last period, remember?"
And, of course, that was the worst possible thing Abby could have said. Those few words alone had your theatrics booming in full force, at the very forefront of your emotions as you curled back into yourself, a long, seemingly neverending whine spilling from your pouty lips.
"C'mon, baby" Abby groaned in faux annoyance, though the smile that once again started to form betrayed her facade. She wrapped a hand around your bicep, tugging gently in an attempt to rouse you from your hermit-like state of agony. "Lay back.."
Interest peaked, you stared at Abby though a small, barely-there slit in a single eyelid. "Why?"
"Just lay back. Trust me, angel." Once again with that nickname that never failed to set off a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, fluttering about with an endless luster. That feeling alone almost completely overwhelmed the cramps that had seemingly made a permanent home inside of you.
Almost.
"I'll make it better," She added, and that was enough to have your body loosening, straightening out as you laid on your back. Box of cookies discarded on the bedside table, the blanket left folded by your side, Abby maneuvered onto her stomach, settling comfortably between your legs as she snaked her big arms around your waist.
You couldn't help but giggle when the first kiss of many landed on your hip bone, the fabric of your shirt tickling the skin under Abby's lips. "Abs.. What are you doing?" You questioned, a giddy feeling rising in your chest, quickly diminishing any and all pain-ridden feelings and thoughts as Abby nuzzled her face into the plushness of your stomach.
"Can't have the real thing, I'll be your heating pad." Though she seemed nonchalant, shrugging off her statement as if it were nothing, she felt anything but. She felt the furthest thing from nonchalant seeing that smile of yours she absolutely loved- the first one she's seen all day. Pride swelled in her chest, shoving aside any ounce of casualness she may have possessed as she watched your pretty face break out into an expression of pure contentment- an emotion you had been severely lacking in.
And it was all because of her.
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jinwoosungs · 3 days
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{ 144 }
rose-colored boy.
jinwoo sung x fem.reader
{ lowkey, no pressure | just hang with me and my weather! }
sung jinwoo was simply curious about you and how you were doing, that’s all.
he wasn’t inclined to watch you because he had the biggest crush on you, oh no. you were just… special to him.
that’s why he put so many of his soldiers within your shadow, (because he did that for all those he cared about!)
but he had to admit, there were a few times when he snuck glances at you through his soldier’s eyes, managing to catch you in some pretty… vulnerable moments.
from talking animatedly with your best friend,
to running errands and shopping for groceries,
and even while you enjoyed some time to yourself while drinking coffee at your favorite café.
sometimes, the shadow monarch couldn’t help himself when he caught you during these mundane moments, admiring you as you simply enjoyed your life.
but perhaps the moment that truly set his heart aflame was the moment he caught you taking a shower, seeing the sight of your bare back as the soap suds slid down your form was enough to make the entirety of his face turn a bright, tomato red.
he couldn’t escape the vision fast enough, hissing at his soldiers to keep their eyes closed as they continue to protect you from within the confines of your shadow. he wanted them to give you your privacy, but admittedly, his mind was still racing a mile a minute as he kept replaying that scene of you showering over and over again.
in the end, he felt so guilty for seeing you at such a vulnerable state, so much so that he invited you out to dinner with him, promising you that you could choose wherever you wanted to eat as he paid for it all (“my treat!”)
he was happy when you accepted his offer, but was still too embarrassed to tell you the reason why he wished to treat you to dinner. ever since that fateful moment he had seen you taking a shower, he had stopped watching you from your shadow, silently promising to give you the privacy that you deserved -
yet now, when he could feel his soldiers sending distress signals, filled with concern for you, he knew he couldn’t fight back his anxieties anymore. he closes his eyes and looks through his soldier’s eyes, his heart breaking at the sight in front of him.
in his vision, he sees you curled up in bed while wrapped within your thick blankets. a half-empty glass of water coupled along with some medicine helped jinwoo piece together that you had fallen ill with a fever. he takes himself away from the vision and makes his way out of his guild’s office.
“what…? boss, where are you going?” jinho calls out to him, but jinwoo simply waves him off.
“she’s sick.”
knowing from the tone of his president’s voice that he would not be able to focus on making any plans for future raids and partnerships when it involved you, jinho simply waves him off, promising that he’ll take care of any calls or reports that come by.
yet sadly, his words fall upon deaf ears when jinwoo shuts the door behind him, solely focused on getting back to you.
{ … }
your breathing comes out in heavy pants the moment you heard several knocks coming from your door.
a moan escapes from your chapped lips when you forced yourself out of bed. with the blankets wrapped around you, you tried to fight back the dizziness and pounding felt against your temple.
by some miracle, you manage to open the door as you saw jinwoo himself standing before you. you were about to ask what he was doing here, but ended up succumbing to one of your dizzy spells, forcing him to catch you within his embrace.
you were dimly aware of the sounds of plastic bags rustling as the s-rank hunter closes your door and carried you back into your room. you vaguely hear his words of concern, but couldn’t say anything to him due to your weakened state.
“…when did you last take your medicine?”
somehow, within what seems like mere seconds, you found yourself back in bed, with jinwoo already tucking you in. he brushes back your damp strands of hair while looking down at you, eyes filled with concern.
you swallow thickly and tell him in a raspy voice, “about an hour ago.”
a gentle smile paints his handsome features as he allows the pad of his thumb to caress at your bottom lip. “poor baby… here, let me take care of you. i’ll make you some rice porridge; something easy to digest that won’t upset your stomach too badly.”
your face felt flushed due to your fever, and you let out a gentle squeak in response, hiding your face within your blankets. “you would c-cook for me?”
jinwoo hums while gently ruffling at your hair. “yeah. it’s my mom’s recipe, and i always made this for jinah when she’s unwell. it’ll make you feel so much better, you just wait here for me, okay?”
“okay.”
you watch as he disappears, going into what you assumed would be your kitchen as he brought his groceries with him. your mind was still hazy, hearing the gentle banging and clatters of pans coming from your kitchen.
comforted by the sound of jinwoo cooking in your kitchen, you visibly felt your body relaxing against your bed. your eyes were a little heavy, feeling drowsy once more as your medication began to take effect-
however, the moment you could smell the delicious scent of chicken and garlic with a hint of ginger did your mouth begin to water. as if sensing your increased appetite, jinwoo reappears once more, this time with a bowl filled with the rice porridge he had made for you.
eager to try his cooking, you manage to weakly sit up from your spot on the bed, eyes glimmering at jinwoo.
“you shouldn’t have…”
he playfully shushes you, sitting beside you on the bed, feeling your mattress dip down with his added weight. as he picks up the spoon and fills it with the rice porridge, gathering tiny bits of scallion and bite-sized pieces of chicken with it, you could feel your mouth further salivating in response. all too eager to try it, you open your mouth wide and allow the hunter to feed you.
moans of absolute delight were heard coming from your lips as you absolutely demolished his rice porridge. with each bite he fed to you, you could feel your strength steadily returning, still eating the entire bowl until every last drop of it was drained.
jinwoo lets out a proud whistle, admiring the empty bowl while dropping the spoon into it, basking in its gentle clanking sound. “wow, i’m proud of you for having such a healthy appetite, even now.”
you pout and gently shove at his chest at the way he was teasing you. but he took no offense to your actions, simply smiling down at you with a fondness before standing back to his full height while taking the empty bowl.
“i’ll go ahead and wash this, then i’ll head on out. and no worries, i’ll lock the door for you using your spare key so that you can rest easy.”
before he could leave your room, your hands immediately reach out to wrap around his wrist, stopping him from leaving you.
you were panting slightly, and you hoped that jinwoo would assume that your heated face was because of your fever (not because of your desire for him to remain by your side.)
your eyes were pleading at him to stay.
“stay with me… please?”
the moment jinwoo’s gaze softens in response to your words, you knew that you had him wrapped around your fingers. he places the bowl back against your nightstand before joining you in bed.
you eagerly scoot over, making space for him on your mattress as his arms automatically wrap themselves around your form. feeling greedy, you bury your face within his chest while listening to the sounds of his beating heart.
you weren’t sure what kind of label to put on the relationship you had with jinwoo. you knew that on the surface you were considered friends with him-
but the way he treated you bordered more on the cusp of romance.
you knew that you had feelings for him, but had yet to truly come clean to him, confessing all of the emotions you felt for him.
but perhaps… now was a good time to tell him?
because really, could he possibly reject you when you were sick and at your weakest?
so, with a sharp inhale, you decide to let it all out in one go. removing your face from his chest, you meet his gaze and tell him, “jinwooiamsoinlovewithyou….!”
jinwoo frowns when he hears the plethora of words seeming to mesh together as they escaped from your lips. his eyebrows were furrowed, and he carefully replays your words over and over again-
before a huge grin was seen settled on his handsome face.
instead of answering your confession, he turns around so that he could better hold you in his arms, humming while pressing his lips against your forehead, grateful to feel the dampness of your skin as your fever slowly began to break.
“jinwoo… do you feel the same way?”
your voice was tiny and shy, making the young man chuckle as he kisses your hair in response.
“tell me again when you feel better in the morning, and i’ll tell you my answer. until that time comes, i’ll continue holding you in my arms like this.”
you smile in response to his words, burying your face within his chest once more while clinging to the front of his shirt.
you end up falling into a peaceful slumber while in jinwoo’s embrace, somehow knowing that you were deeply loved and cherished by him-
even if he had yet to say it out loud ♡
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a.n. - and we’re back to our regularly scheduled fluff! hahaha, if you readers didn’t mind the plot and style of writing like arise, let me know, and i’ll be sure to add more ‘darker’ stories like it for jinwoo in the future 🥹
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
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abramswife · 23 hours
Text
HALF OF ME (i)
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SUMMARY: Despite appearances, you’d learnt Soldier Boy was, actually, capable of being a good man. Somehow, you’d wormed yourself into his good books, and had the rarest privilege of seeing him without the suit, the drugs, the ego, the everything. Just as things were going good, his heart somehow getting even warmer for you, the world separates you in the cruelest way.
PAIRING: Soldier Boy x Fem!Reader
WORD COUNT: 3573
WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. Sexism (set in the 1980’s), typical Soldier Boy behaviour, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, questionable morals (peer pressuring drug use), sexual content, eludes to smut, Soldier Boy may be a bit OOC at times, gore.
SERIES MASTERLIST / MAIN MASTERLIST
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Becoming a world famous supe was never something you’d ever wanted. Sure, you’d grown up with their photos on your bedroom walls, your father telling you stories of when the first ever supe came to be, insisting he fought alongside the Soldier Boy in the war
The people around you seemed to idolise them. These… mostly regular people in tight suits, pretending to be better than everyone else.
You knew better. You knew enough. Enough to know supes were dirty, and corrupt, and definitely not the heroes they presented themselves to be. That their hands were more blood than they were skin anymore.
And, frankly, you wanted nothing to do with Vought or Payback — or whatever the fuck those shitty, useless superhero teams were called. (Seriously, what did they actually do? Except sit in their pretty tower and take the peoples’ taxes?)
Your father, however, had different ideas.
So, at 18, you woke up in the hospital, after an ugly head collision, with superpowers you’d never had before. A miracle, the doctors called it, a supe whose extraordinary powers had been hidden for her whole life. When you got home, you forced the truth out of your father. Compound V, he called it, a new chemical made by Vought.
No one was born a supe, he admitted, it all came from a liquid in a vial. The truth hurt you, as much as it didn’t really surprise you. Chosen by God, my ass.
This wasn’t supposed to be your life.
But it’s certainly what it turned out to be.
Payback were as shitty, if not more, than you’d originally thought. Each of them had… many flaws. Soldier Boy, obviously, was the worst. If the Devil reincarnated himself, he’d look and act like Soldier Boy.
Simply talking to the man made you want to shoot yourself.
Well… it did at one point.
Two years down the line, things had changed. Soldier Boy was still insufferable, sexist, arrogant, and a major asshole. But… he wasn’t so much a dick directly to you, as he used to be. In fact, if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was actually somewhat nice to you. As much as his macho heart could manage, anyway.
You noticed it the first time when he saved your life on a mission. He’d grabbed your waist when a grenade clinked at your feet, whirling you around and to the ground, squashing you against his firm chest, using his shield to protect you both from the hot blast. He’d shrugged it off as nothing; as something any leader would do for his team. Then you watched him hit Gunpowder about for not following his order to a T, and realised… maybe he did treat you different.
It was undeniable these days.
You were the only person on Payback that Soldier Boy could remotely tolerate.
“You need’a be more careful.” Despite the hard look on his face, Soldier Boy was staring down at you, as a Vought doctor wrapped clean bandages tightly around your midsection. It was a bullet to the wound; which, with being a supe, wouldn’t be too bad, but you didn’t heal inhumanely fast like he did. “You’re fuckin’ useless when you’re hurt.”
You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for your concern, Soldier Boy.”
His eyes narrowed into a harsh glare. “Ben.” He corrected you, for what was probably the 50th time. Each time he did, he got more annoyed with you. “How many times do I have to say it? Is there a brain in that pretty head’a’yours?“
You grunted, spinning on the bed and hanging your legs off the side of it. “Thanks for the compliment.” Ben rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, not offering a hand as you groaned in discomfort and got to your feet. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be healed up by the time we set off for Nicaragua, if that’s what you’re worried ‘bout.”
Ben just grunted, displeased. “Ain’t happenin’.” He immediately shot that idea down. “We leave for Nicaragua next week. You ain’t comin’. Sit this one out.”
You stared, expecting a joke. Clearly, he wasn’t. “Seriously?” You groaned, unhappy. What was it with this guy? “I’ll be fine. It’s a silly little bullet.”
“I was holdin’ your fuckin’ guts in your body.” He walked away, reminding you of just how bad your injury actually had been. He had, indeed, practically been keeping your guts inside of you as you bled out. “You ain’t going. You’re stayin’ here.” You chased after him, pulling your shirt on as you left the infirmary.
“Ben—“
He whirled around to face you. “I said, you’re fucking staying.” He growled, glaring down at you. God, were you glad you were on his side. This man was terrifying. Six feet of pure muscle, strength and violence. “You’re better off here, using that face of yours to get some PR.”
“And, what? The others will back you up?” You scoffed, grabbing his wrist as he went to walk away again. His expression went cold at your touch, but you didn’t flinch. As much as he tried to scare you, Ben wouldn’t raise a hand at you… probably. You had faith in the man. “They can’t fight for shit, Ben. Gunpowder hasn’t even discovered his own dick yet. You think you’re gonna have your back covered out there?”
He ripped his wrist away harshly. “I don’t need my back covered.”
“Everyone needs their back covered.” You argued. “Even you.”
He chuckled, sarcastic and dry. “You worried ‘bout me, princess?” You gave him a ‘seriously?’ look, as he took a step closer, mouth curled into that ever-infuriating smirk. “I’d perform better if you sent me off with a taste of that—“
“Ben.” You interrupted him, unimpressed. You rolled his eyes at his predictable behaviour. “I’m not gonna fuck morale into you.”
“Shame.” His eyes flicked up and down, tracing the curves of your body. “Bet you’d be a firecracker.” He walked away again, and you threw your hands up, groaning. Ben chuckled as he turned the corner. “Think it over, sweetheart.”
“You’ve got a hand.” You called back to him. “Use it!”
Conversations like that were very common with Ben.
It’d be a normal conversation (as normal as it gets with him) — and then he’d start talking about fucking you against the nearest surface, and all pleasantries went down the drain. Seriously, he thought 80% with his dick, and 20% with his actual brain.
And that was being kind.
But, beneath all of his macho assholery, was his genuine worry. You knew he wasn’t letting you accompany the rest of the team to Nicaragua because of your injury, despite how minor it was, and that he was worried you’d injure yourself further.
He was just… shit it showing it.
Poor bastard wouldn’t know emotion if it slapped him in the face.
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“I am not wearing this.”
Okay… scratch all of that. Maybe Ben was just a dickhead.
He lounged back in his chair, grinning lazily, legs spread like he owned the place. He probably thought he did. “Why not?” He took a sip of his whiskey, ice clinking against the sides, eyes never leaving you from over the rim of the glass.
You held up the fabric. “Seriously?”
It was basically a scrap of fabric, with how much it covered up. You didn’t shy away from showing skin. You quite liked short skirts and pushing the line. Because, as a supe, there was a line. Vought liked it when you showed skin — apparently it made your ratings go up with the male fans, no shocker. But, too much skin on display, the male fans started calling you a whore, and the ratings shot back down.
It was a bit like a balancing game, trying to find the perfect amount of skin to make the boys ogle but also respect you. An impossible feat, truthfully.
And this? This was definitely classed as too much.
“I don’t see the issue.” His smirk said otherwise.
“My tits are not gonna stay in this, Ben!”
His smirk just grew. “Again, I don’t see the issue.”
You groaned and put the dress down. “No. I’ll get my own dress. I am not wearing that.” You tell him, arms folding across your chest. You didn’t miss the way he checked out your tits, and the way the placement of your arms accentuated them.
He rolled his eyes, obviously not happy with your decision. Leaning towards, elbows on his knees, Ben’s eyes took you in. “Why?” His head cocked to the side. “You’d look hot. It’d make your ass look great.”
“That’s not a compliment.” You grumbled, pushing a hand through your hair. Ben made a small grunt of disagreement, but didn’t say anything otherwise. “Listen, there’s a certain line. Alright? If I wear that, every guy out there will be callin’ me a whore. Okay? Imma find something else.”
He hummed and sat back. “I think you should wear that one.” Sighing heavily, you just rolled your eyes at his persistence. “All those assholes will be blowin’ their pants just lookin’ at you, sweetheart.”
“Again, not a compliment.”
Ben stared at you, and silently took another sip of his whiskey. He always seemed to think these crude, rather sexist and inappropriate remarks were compliments. Like commenting on your body. Or saying you’d be a freak in bed. Which were obviously not actually compliments.
You rolled your eyes, rubbing your forehead. “I’ll find another dress, Ben.” You told him, definitive. There was no way he was going to convince you to wear that dress.
“What a disappointment.” He grinned, lopsided. “I was lookin’ forward to seein’ you in that dress.”
“Again,” you deadpanned as he checked you out once more, “you have a hand… use it.”
Ben just smirked, and sipped his whiskey again.
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You wore the fucking dress.
The asshole always won. Always.
He looked so fucking pleased, as you walked into his after-party, wearing the dress he’d picked out for you. His smugness was clear, brushing through the crowd with ease to come to you.
Ben hummed, eyes dilating as he stared you down. His eyes lingered on your tits, as they always did. “You look…” he hesitated, trying to think of a compliment that wasn’t degrading, and failed, “fuckin’ hot. If you weren’t such a bitch, I’d bend you over right here.”
Your face pulled together in disgust, looking at him with your lips pressed together “… gross.”
He chuckled. “Drink?” He offered. “I got your favourite.”
And there he goes again.
Being nice.
It did your damn head in.
Accepting his offer, you shivered as his large hand landed on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd. They all seemed to part like the Red Sea as he came through, a fact that amused you greatly.
Seriously. These women looked at him like he was Jesus reincarnated, when he’d totally call them in a whore in bed.
Ben silently reached out for your favourite alcoholic drink, pouring it into a glass. His eyes scanned over the room, smirking at a few of the women ogling, sending them rushing to their friends and squealing. He merely chuckled and handed you the full glass.
“Thanks.” You murmured, taking it from him. Your eyes stared up at him for a moment, curious, before looking away again.
What was it with him? How could be such an egotistical one minute, and then be nice and respectful the next? It was like a guessing game, trying to figure out what mood he was in.
He grabbed your wrist, his grip firm, but not enough to hurt you. “Come with me.” He guided you through the crowd once again, to the doors in the back. As he pushed through into the room, he flashed you a cocky grin over his shoulder. Dickhead.
This room was far quieter. You noticed, immediately, the only people present were supes and celebrities, not the random civilians that’d been granted a pity invite — or the women Ben thought were hot. This was the main party. There were drugs covering every table, with various big names passed out on the chairs, blazed.
Ben lead you to the corner, where he’d obviously already been busy, if the half-snorted lines of cocaine proved anything.
Silently, he offered you a line, which you gratefully accepted.
You didn’t do drugs before you joined Payback. In fact, you’d avoided them, promising yourself you’d never become that type of person. But it was the norm within Vought. Every supe spent their nights filling their bodies to the brim with various drugs, poisoning themselves. So, you started smoking weed to fit in.
Then Ben found out you only did weed, and decided it wasn’t enough. With enough pressure, he’d gotten you onto any other substance he could convince you to try.
It made you more attractive, in his eyes, as you spiralled into addiction like him.
In fact, it got him rock hard, to snort lines or share a joint with you. It was so fucking hot, watching your eyes glass over as you got higher with every hit, with every line. God, it turned him on so bad.
You snorted your third line of the night, when Ben suddenly pushed you back into your chair. Bewildered, you stared at him, as he snatched up a baggie of the white powder. Your heart leapt to your throat, the moment he moved aside the slit in your dress, revealing the bare skin of your thigh. All breath left your lungs, watching him pour some of the powder onto your thigh.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
He was about to do a line off you.
He glanced at you through his lashes, smirking at the shocked and flushed expression you wore. He used his pocket knife to cut the lines, mindful of the sharp blade against your soft skin.
God, this was hot. He found it hot. You found it hot. It’d be a damn miracle if you ended the night with your clothes on at this point.
Your skin tingled as he sniffed up the first line, of his hands roughly gripping the top of your thigh to steady you, his other holding a rolled up $100 bill. He groaned in pleasure, body physically shuddering, head shaking, as the drug made his body run hot.
He did the next line, the grip on your thigh becoming tighter as his pupils began to blow up.
Was it getting hot in here? Or was it just you?
Maybe it was the cocaine in your systems, maybe it was the fact Ben was just… so damn hot, but you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing his hair and forcing his head up as he snorted the final line off your thigh.
He looked up at you, pupils blown, lips parted. Holy shit. This man was sculpted like a fucking God. Your body shivered. “You finally takin’ my offer, sweetheart?” He chuckled, shaking off the immediate effects of the cocaine, raising himself up to your level.
“Fuck me.” You whispered, breathless, practically begging him.
His eyes went dark, almost black, with lust. The smirk on his lips made you squeeze your legs together. “Don’t need to ask me twice.”
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You understood the hype now. You understood why women bent their knees the moment Ben uttered a word to them.
Holy shit, did this man have talent.
Your legs were still twitching, the space in between your legs throbbing and tingling with how many times you’d come on his fingers, his tongue and cock. You’d counted four, before your vision had gone white.
Jesus, he had stamina. A glance at the clock on the wall confirmed it’d been just over five hours since you’d first fell into Ben’s bed. That super strength was better for more than just fighting, after all. This man should be advertised for his abilities. No shocker he was an American sex symbol.
He’d just fucked your brains out.
And now, he was staring at you with admiration, laid on his side, in the same bed he’d just railed you in. “You feelin’ okay?” He murmured, genuinely concerned.
“Yeah.” You rolled over to face him, a jolt of discomfort and pain in your hips and thighs. You might have to hold back on… doing anything for the next few days, however. “You didn’t break anything.” You joked, soft and breathy.
He chuckled quietly, hand sliding around your waist and dragging you closer to him. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waitin’ to do that.” He whispered, uncharacteristically soft and gentle.
“To fuck me senseless?”
He smirked. “Mm, I have dreamt of that.” Your eyes narrowed in mild disgust at the image of him having wet dreams about you, swatting his chest. He grinned and caught your hand. “No… I meant how long I’ve waited to have you. You’re fuckin’ perfect. Not just your body. Everything about you is so sexy.”
Your brows furrowed, squeezing his hand, and then worming your fingers out of his. “What do you mean?” You asked softly.
He seemed to struggle for a moment. He wet his tongue with his lips, making your body tingle again. Jesus. “Let’s get dinner.”
What.
“Me and you.” Ben smiled, tracing the curves of your body with a featherlight touch. “Real fancy. I’ll pay.” Was he… asking you on a date right now? The Soldier Boy, asking you on a date? Instead of fucking you and tossing you out?
“You’re serious?” You asked softly, surprised. When he nodded, you grinned, biting your lip to contain it. “Okay, Ben. Let’s get dinner.”
His eyes lit up. Ducking his head down, his lips touched yours, gentle and affectionate. His kiss spoke so many words; his hands gently cradling your body, as he kissed you like you were made of glass. The touch was intimate and loving, widely different to the one he’d used when he’d been on top of you.
No, this was completely different. This was him being vulnerable. This was him showing you just how he felt, without the words.
He smiled against your lips and pulled back, just enough to speak, but his words were still brushing yours. “Yeah?” He whispered, in response to your agreement.
“Yeah.” You stared at him with big eyes.
He grinned, almost boyish in its nature. He stared at you in adoration, seeming to be collecting the words on the tip of his tongue.
You giggled under his stare. You sat up, pulling him with you, grabbing the blanket that he had draped over his headboard. It was fluffy and warm, and smelt like his cologne, and you didn’t hesitate to wrap it around your shoulders, cocooning yourself.
If possible, his gaze softened even more. “You’re adorable.”
Quietly, you laughed. “You sure you wanna do this, Ben?” You stared back at him. Ben was nothing if not a womaniser. Settling down was nothing like him. “Get serious with me, I mean.”
“You’re the only one I’d ever want to.”
Your brows pulled together, confused. “Why?”
Ben soothed a hand through your hair, green eyes drinking in the perfections and imperfections on your face. “You’re the only one I trust.” His voice was gravelly, still heavy with the effects of your recent endeavours. His hand travelled through your hair, and then came down to cup your cheek.
Wrapped up in his fluffy blanket, your head rested on the wooden headboard. “I trust you, too.” You whispered, tilting your head into his palm. His skin was rough, painted with callouses and scars. Every scar on his body had a story. And you’d spend the rest of your life learning every single one.
Despite himself, he smiled at you, thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. “I’d kill for you. You know that?” His words made you shiver. Ben killing people wasn’t exactly new… or surprising. But doing it for you? God, it made your stomach heat up — and other parts. “These assholes don’t hold a candle to you, doll. Countess? That whore is— is repulsive compared to you.”
You laughed softly, rolling your eyes affectionately. “Ben.” You scolded quietly, though not with an ounce of anger.
The supe just smirked, chuckling deep in his throat. “You want me to drop that bullshit PR relationship I have with her? I’ll do it. In a fucking heartbeat. I’ll be with you, publicly, if you want me.”
“You’d ruin your reputation for me?” Now that — that meant something. Ben could say anything and everything; he was a master manipulator. He could get anything he wanted with that smile and his suave words. But, if there was one thing he would always prioritise, it was his reputation. He’d do anything to be the alpha male. Anything.
“I’d do anything for you.” He grabbed your hand within his much larger one, guiding it to his chest. He pressed your palm over his heart, allowing you to feel his heartbeat. “I’ll do anything for you, to be with you.” You felt the steady rhythm of his heart. He wasn’t lying. That, or he was a great fucking liar. “I’m never leaving your side. I’m yours.”
Your eyes searched deep within his. “Always?”
Ben smiled. “Always.” He leant forward, gently pressing his lips against yours in a tender kiss.
Three months later, Soldier Boy died in a nuclear meltdown.
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A/N: jesus christ this took me so long to write 😭 but i’m so happy with how this first chap turned out. it’s gonna get so much more fun to write we get to the action 👀 pls lmk if there’s any mistakes, as i will go back n fix them !!! hope you enjoyed <3
TAGLIST: @onlyangel-444 @deans-spinster-witch @fumolemon @anundyingfidelity
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ghoulphile · 6 hours
Text
sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul
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➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ un-betaed atm.
It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.
City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?
Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day, the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.
Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.
It’s easy to get lost. Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re not prepared.
Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.
Though if you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks.  
... Where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.
You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked; a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to?
Well, you learn one way or another.
Only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt nature.
Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.
You’d tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating any longer lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.
Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.
Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers over the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free and catch it with a grimace. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to soothe your tacky lips - let alone your thirst.
You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.
Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?
Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a wasteland miracle.
But sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.
"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"
There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.
Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share.
It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.
Stark against the flat plains, and burnt shrubbery - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a duster and cowboy hat. Tossed over his shoulder is a saddlebag. There’s a dog trotting beside him, sable coat rippling with muscle. 
Pay dirt.
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Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
They end up stopping at a blown-out Drumlin Diner that hovers on the edge of suburbia when the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and green clouds gather.
Dark and crackling with energy; a Radstorm brewing.
Electricity pricks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.
He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.
Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open. Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence. A small mercy you’re thankful for.
While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.
You’ll only take what you need, not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.
Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.
Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.
Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.
Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows.
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However, when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you gave him credit for.
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The world spins - a kaleidoscope of color - like a hit of Daytripper as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge, hot and heavy, slams into you from behind. Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.
Something rattles loose, your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. The taste of warm metal floods your mouth. The side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.
Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.
"Wha's?" you slur. "Wh-at's..."
Meanwhile, a gloved hand fits around your throat like a collar, fingers squeezing against the tender flesh of your jugular. Tiny cavities eat at your vision, pockets of darkness, as your senses struggle to adjust in the encroaching night.
“Lil girls should know it’s rude to steal.” A voice, gruff and mocking, tickles the shell of your ear. “I bet you thought you was real slick, huh? Tch, you ask me, you’re dumber than shit.”
Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. “Wha’d you mean?”
He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’you have any idea who you're fucking with, sweetheart?"
“N-No…”
“How’s about I show you, then?”
A tongue slides out to trace along the shell of your ear. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer with a chuckle.
“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me. Why, it must be Christmas.”
What the hell is he talking about?
It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. Moist breath fans over the nape of your neck, the grip on your throat squeezing once, twice.
Leather sticks to your sweaty skin.
You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open door. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.
Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green.
It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air is sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.
The Radstorm has finally arrived, and you’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner. Might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway.
But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog tucks up in the corner - uncaring as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.
Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”
Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice. He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.
You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.
“Now why’d you gotta go and make me do that?”
A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge. Creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.
“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”
His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of rough skin.
“Don’t go trying to take another peep or I might just have to pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”
Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball. Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN. Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing.
Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position. 
Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”
"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."
Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.
You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.
"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"
He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.
The rough, low groan he releases does wicked things. His cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat. A shiver ricochets down your spine.
He grunts, "Mm, now don't you smell good enough to eat."
The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.
You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."
He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.
"So let me go?"
"Now why would I go and do an asinine thing like that?" he asks. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."
Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.
“Besides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate to have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”
There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rough fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, the material going slack around your legs as it slips down to pool around your ankles.
“Hey, wait--!”
You jolt forward, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache. Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper.
"I..."
There's no way he can't feel your reaction.
How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.
It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.
"You like this, don't you?" You can hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words. He croons, "What would the smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it."
You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.
"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”
A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the diner wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.
Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.
You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.
"You really outta start being more honest, Sweetheart."
A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.
Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.
"Didn't anyone teach you better?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.
You keen, low and wounded.
Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.
“I’m being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”
"Now, see," he mocks, "I find that hard to believe. Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your little cunt is for me."
It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.
You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”
This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.
Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.
That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.
“I - I’m not sure.”
He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.
Stronger, quicker.
This is going to happen either way.
And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t. If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.
Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.
Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.
His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”
The or else goes unspoken.
Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.
You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.
So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.
Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.
You tense before forcing yourself to relax.
“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”
A test.
You breathe a sigh of relief.
“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”
Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.
He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.
And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.
Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”
His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”
Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.
“I-”
“Go on, now, Sweetheart. Say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I just might be tempted to take a bite of your pretty lil backside instead.”
He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--
You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.
Is that a chance you’re willing to take?
No, no it’s not.
“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”
The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully. “Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”
Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.
“I’m - YOURS!”
Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.
Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.
He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.
“Wait!”
Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base.
You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”
“Goddamn,” he whistles, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”
Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.
Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.
Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.
“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.” 
“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean to make you cry,” he lies.
The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears.
“Can’t be helped, I guess.” His body ripples in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it when they cry.”
Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.
Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.
You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.
“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about being honest?”
You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.
Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.
“Hah! T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”
“Sh, you can take it.”
With a grunt, he surges forward and wastes no time starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. Drives you hard into the side of the diner.
“Yeah, just like that, Sweetheart.”
You can do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.
Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”
Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - a-ah!”
His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneaking a peek, Sweetheart?”
While the words sound threatening, his voice has gone low and whiskey-rough. Breathless. And for all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his thrusts slow into languid rolls and he reaches down to pinch your clit when your eyes try to slide from his.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”
Pretty, you think, dazed. Like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; glinting in the faint slants of light and peering at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.
“Yeah, that’s it. Just like that. There’s my good girl.”
Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips, your mouth drops open on a whine. “O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.”
His bare hand reaches up to cup your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your lips. Compress your tongue as they gather saliva. Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder. You sneak a kiss to his knuckle when he pulls them free.
“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, aren’t you?”
You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle.
A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he says. “Now be a peach…”
Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.
He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.
“And cum for me.”
A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.
Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.
“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”
A nip to the ear is all it takes.
“Hhaah, I’m--!”
The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly, building and building, finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs and splashes against the tile.
In the aftermath, a full body tremor zips through you. Your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat, hands numb and head full of cotton. Cramps bloom between your hips, sharp little stabs that shoot up behind your navel.
“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”
You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation. Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot.
“Let’s see if you can do that again.”
You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”
“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”
The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.
“Now, why don’t we have some real fun?”
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hoonieshoney · 7 hours
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Synopsis: After Lee Heeseung got caught in bit of a legal scandal he is summoned to community service thanks to his father’s legal connections. Heeseung finds himself stuck for the next six weeks working at the local church, how lucky for him the pastors sweet daughter is there to keep him company.
Pairing: LeeHeeseung x afabNaive!Virgin!Reader
Warnings: “DARK CONTENT-ish”.Dub con, manipulation, religious themes, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), thigh riding, creampie, cum eating, masturbation (male and female), sexual use of a rosary, sexual scenes in a church, fingering, cursing, dirty talk, corruption kink, oral (male&female), hair pulling, slight spanking, slight mention of blood, slight choking, ??noncon??(I'm adding that tag because there is a moment of hesitation that could be viewed as noncon)
Word Count: 7.3k
Taglist: @deobitifull @iveivory
Author Note: Though this isn’t as dark as my normal content I’m still marking it as dark because it’s still manipulation and it has dark and religious themes to it (and I know people are sensitive to those topics), so to be safe and protect those individuals I’m just marking it as dark content. Not 100% proofread, if you see a mistake, no you didn’t❤️ I hope you enjoy it! ❤️I appreciate all comments/reblogs/likes ❤️ I love to hear your thoughts ❤️ Enjoy little ducklings!
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Lee Heeseung is well aware of what he is. He’s a liar, a manipulator, an unreliable friend, an average college student, but above everything, what he takes the most pride in, is that Heeseung is an amazing hookup. He knows he’s hot, he knows girls talk about how great he is in bed especially about how well endowed he is. 
He’s never had to fight for anything in his life, he’s always gotten what he wanted without hesitation, and yes, that includes women. 
He loves women, more notably he loves taken women. The rush of having someone’s girlfriend underneath him compares to nothing else, especially if they're hooking up with the boyfriend nearby. He can’t explain it, he loves the rush he gets knowing they picked him, they’re risking it all for him. 
And watching that same girl go up to her loser boyfriend and kiss him with the same mouth Heeseung just had his dick in has his chest swelling with pride.  
But you. Fuck. You were the ultimate prize, the forbidden fruit, the one. 
Six weeks of forced community service under the watchful eye of the most respected church pastor in town, your father. Heeseung was initially pissed knowing he’d be spending three days a week, including church service on Sundays, in a tiny stuffy room sorting through church donations. But then the most wonderful “miracle” happened, you. 
He doesn’t know how it happened, you’re not the type of girl he goes for. You didn’t even spare him a second glance when he walked in on his first day. But fuck, your face, your modest clothing, your big doe eyes, everything he wouldn’t spare a glance at on a normal day had him aching to touch you. The silver cross necklace resting on your collarbones, the Bible you always had nearby with sticky notes and bookmarks sticking out, the white and silver rosary always nearby and that fucking ring…oh my god he almost lost all self control when he heard about it that first week of work.  
“Are you engaged? You’re still in college, why would you want to settle down already?” He asks, tapping the silver band on your left ring finger.
You giggle and swat his hand away, “no silly. It’s a purity ring.”
He furrowed his eyebrows, “what’s that?”
“It’s a promise ring to God basically. Meaning I’ll remain pure until marriage.”
His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. No sex until marriage? That sounds horrible.
“So you’ve never…”
“Of course not!” You say, like you’re offended by the assumption. 
“Have you ever kissed anyone?” His interest now fully peaked. 
“Nope,” you answer, popping the ‘p’ sound.
“So in a way...you belong to God?” He questions licking his lips.
“Yeah..until I get married, I guess you could say that.” 
Fuck.
He barely made it outside to the church parking lot into his car with his hand wrapped around his cock jerking off to the mental image of your dainty hand wrapped around him instead, looking up at him with wide curious eyes like you usually do. The image of that little band on your finger had him spilling all over his hand in minutes, even managing to get some of his cum on the windshield.  
He hasn’t stopped thinking about it. He never had any desire for virgins, they were way too whiny and he didn’t like how clingy they were afterwards. 
But you. 
You were completely untouched, completely untainted, so pure, he wanted to devour you. He wanted to own every part of you. 
You were the grand prize..he loved fucking promised women, and when you said you “belonged to God” that was it.
He was on a mission.
He had to take you from him.
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“What are you staring at?” You asked, breaking Heeseungs train of thoughts.
“Nothing..sorry angel, just spaced out.” He smiles watching you look up at him.
“Stop calling me that,” you mumbled at the nickname Heeseung bestowed to you since starting his community service at your fathers church. 
“You like it,” he teased, flashing his signature side smirk. You did, but a part of you also didn't know if he meant it in a condescending way.
“Come on, we'll be late for the service.” 
You clutched your bible and rosary to your chest and started to ascend the church steps with Heeseung trailing behind. You weren’t sure what exactly he did to end up here, but he’s been a big help to you with all the church donation organizing. 
And he hardly complained, it even seemed like he was starting to enjoy coming to Sunday services and sitting in the pew with your friends and family. Taking your usual spots on the pew, you open your Bible and wait for your father to start the service. 
Heeseung was so confused at what was happening, he couldn’t understand what your dad was preaching about, didn’t understand the songs, and didn’t know a single prayer. This whole thing was a fucking waste of his time. The only good thing about these Sunday services was being near you. Especially when you got on your knees during the service, when you would take the bread of Christ in your mouth and swallow it down with the sacramental wine, it had him imagining unspeakable things. The way you had your hands clasped together, looking up with big doe eyes as you took the offerings was such a sinful sight. 
After the service you stayed behind with Heeseung to put away any new donations made by the churchgoers. 
“Did you enjoy today's service?” You ask. 
“Yeah, I definitely learned a lot today,” a sheepish grin adorns his face. He doesn’t even remember half of it.
There wasn’t any denying Heeseung was attractive. Everything about him was inviting. Sometimes your hands would brush or he would accidentally press up against you to walk around in the small donation room and it had a flushing sensation on your body. 
You tried not to focus on it, you were also very well aware of the promiscuous reputation he carried on his back. 
“That’s good, I’m going to miss having you around here when you leave us,” you admit shyly.
“Don’t worry angel, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” He smirked, leaning forward on the sorting table you both were working at. 
“You’re such a flirt,” You shake your head. He can see the smile you’re biting back and the tips of your ears redden.
“Can’t help it when I’m around a pretty girl,” he shrugs.
You roll your eyes and focus back on sorting through the small donation pile. He’s a player, he’s a player, you repeat to yourself in your head, he doesn’t like you in that way.
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Where am I? 
A floral field surrounds you, kneeling on a blanket, clad in a typical dress you normally wear for Sunday services with your rosary clutched in your hands. What’s going on?
“Hey angel..” that voice, ah that velvet smooth voice that has your heart in your throat.
He looks beautiful, of course he does, sitting on the blanket next to you. His dark messy hair falling in front of his doe eyes, he’s in white slacks and a white button up, the sleeves rolled up.
He almost looks ethereal, “come closer to me.” 
Without hesitation you move to him. 
“Let me see,” he motions toward the beads in your hands. You hand them over and watch the mischievous smirk creep onto his face. He moves behind you on his knees and rubs his hands on your shoulders, massaging you. You hum feeling his large hands rub down your arms stopping at your wrists.
He wraps the beads around your wrists, binding them together behind your back. You look at him confused, but he just smiles and turns your body around to face him. He sits back on his bottom and pulls into his lap. Making sure to position you where you’re straddling his thigh, causing your dress to lift up slightly.
“H-Heeseung what are you-“
He stroked your cheek, cutting you off, “can you pray for me?”
“What?” 
He rubs his hands on your exposed thighs. “Let me hear you pray. Recite the all father, for me, angel.” The nickname only makes you shudder under his touch. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears.
“Our Father, Who art in heaven,” 
You suddenly gasp, feeling him grab your hips and rock your body back and forth on his thigh. 
“Hall-hallowed be Thy N-n-name. Thy Kingdom co-come,” you gasp and try to move your hands from behind your back but he's restrained you tightly with your rosary. The friction from his pants against your drenched panties rubbing against your swollen clit is slowly becoming unbearable.  
“Thy Wi-will be do-done, On-on earth as it is-is in Heaven.”
You cry out as he starts flexing his thigh underneath you, desperate to touch him you fight against the rosary keeping your arms bound behind you. He pulls you down harder on his leg making you rock against him faster. This is how he wanted you, completely at his mercy.
“Keep going angel…” His lips were on your neck sucking the soft skin between his teeth.
“Give us-us this day, o-our daily br-bread,”
He grabs your throat making you look up at him and watches you intently as you rock against his thigh sloppily trying to desperately chase your high. You pant with your eyes wide and glassy, your moves becoming more erratic as you struggle against the rosary. 
“And for-forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who-who trespass ag-against us.”
You were soaking through his slacks. Your voice gets more breathy as you feel that knot in your lower belly ready to snap, closing your eyes trying to desperately keep the same pace against his flexed thigh. 
“Don’t you dare look away….” He growls gripping your chin, your eyes snap open and he stares right into your soul. “Make a mess, angel.” 
Your eyes stared into his dark ones and you moaned out loudly feeling yourself release onto his thigh. Your mouth dropped open but only choked noises were coming out, letting the blinding heat of your orgasm course through your veins. He lets you catch your breath while rubbing your trembling bottom lip, “finish it..”
“And lead us not into temptation.....but deliver us from evil.” you pant out staring at him still on your orgasmic high.
“Good fucking girl”
You shoot up from your bed, your body covered in a thin layer of sweat and a sticky feeling between your legs. Pulling the blanket off of you to try and let in cold air to your body you gasp at the sight of your gray sleep pants completely soaked through.
What the fuck..
Why did you just dream about Lee Heeseung..
And did you just cum completely untouched?.. 
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Swallowing thickly you walk through the church parking lot to your designated donation table by your fathers side. Today was the church food drive, lots of people were showing up to drop off their canned goods. It was also the first day seeing Heeseung since your dream. Since that night you’ve felt the dull uncomfortable ache between your legs, and a part of you knew only he could fix it. Which only had you feeling disgusting for having such thoughts. 
“Seungie!” A high pitched squeaky voice breaks you out of your concentration and you see a girl running toward Heeseung. The girl, only clad in short shorts and a small tank top, throws her arms around Heeseung giggling.
He’s smirking at her and obviously checking her out. An uncomfortable churn in your stomach makes you look away. 
Why do you care? You knew he had quite the reputation, lots of the girls around you whispered about his escapades and how they so badly wanted to experience it for themselves.Why were you jealous?
Heeseung sees you from the corner of his eye, how your body tensed up when he hugged Karina and how you immediately looked away.
Fuck, how is he supposed to get you to trust him when these stupid girls are acting this way in front of you. 
“Are you even listening to me, Seungie?” Karina’s shrill voice snaps him back to his reality. 
“Sorry, I’m just super busy right now. Can we talk later?”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes, “so what? Now that you fucked me you don’t want to talk to me now?”
“Don’t you have a boyfriend to worry about?” He glares.
“We broke up..you said I was special. I thought we could be tog-“
He raises his hand and shakes his head. “I’m gonna stop you right there Karina. You were fun, but that hookup was all we’re ever gonna have. I never told you to break up with him.”
“So that’s it? We’re over?”
He wants to laugh, “Karina we were never a thing.”
“Fuck you, Heeseung.” He watches her stomp away with tears in her eyes. 
He looks back at your table and sees your back is turned to him. 
Ah fuck, were you mad? He watches you grab a box of donated food and walk into the small donation building you two work out of. 
Perfect, he can talk to you alone. 
“Are you mad at me?” Heeseung asks, walking into the donation room startling you. 
“Why do you ask that?” You mumble avoiding his gaze.
“You’ve won’t even look at me, angel.” He stands next to you as you place the food on the shelf. You look at him briefly and chew your bottom lip nervously.  
“I'm just busy Heeseung, we have a lot of food to sort through.”
“I don't care angel, what's wrong?” He moves closer to you, caging you against the shelf you’re working on. 
“Are you dating that girl that was all over you?” You blurt out before you realize. You feel the embarrassment wash over you. Way to keep it cool. 
He studies your face before breaking out into a smug grin. You weren’t mad at him, you were jealous of Karina. 
“Does that matter?” He asks, leaning toward you testing just to see how jealous you really were. 
“I guess not, what you do with easy girls is your business.” You bite. 
He barks a laugh, oh you were so fucking jealous and it was so fucking hot. He has never heard you talk bad about anyone before. But here you were, calling Karina easy because you liked him. He was already tainting you. 
“I’m not dating her, angel.”
“She was all over you,” you whisper. He watched your annoyed expression turn into a pout and your eyes avoided his nervously. 
Oh you poor sweet thing. If only you knew how much I wanted to fuck you, you wouldn’t be jealous of some slut. 
“Aw, did my angel not like that?”He says with faux sympathy, caressing your cheek. 
“Don’t make fun of me!” His touch only ignited that burning feeling in the pit of your belly.
“I’m not angel, you’re just so fucking cute when you’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous!” You try not to melt into his touch but it’s hard. And he looks so inviting. 
He was standing so close to you. His cologne overwhelmed your senses, you could feel the warmth of his body heat. He watches your face and smiles, noticing how your eyes keep dropping to his lips, having a hard time on where to keep your focus. 
Time to test the waters a little further. 
“Am I making you nervous, angel?” 
“No,” you lie. He chuckles, he knows you’re lying, your body gives it away. He can see your pink cheeks, your clenched fists at your side and watches you rub your thighs together. He leans down and places his lips right on your earlobe and he inhales the scent of your floral shampoo. He feels you shudder against him.
“Does anyone else get your little body reacting this way?” His breath fans across your neck. You almost whine when he removes his face and stares down at you with hooded eyes. 
He pushes a piece of hair behind your ear and runs his thumb along your jaw. Stopping at your bottom lip he rubs it softly, of course it’s soft. 
The vivid images of your dream flash across your brain and your eyes widen remembering him doing the same thing after your orgasm. He sees your panicked gaze and he can feel his cock throbbing in his jeans. His gaze darkens, “you’re so fucking pretty, angel.”
His touch made your skin feel warm, it sent little shockwaves throughout your body and was leaving an uncomfortable mess between your thighs. 
“I-um..have to go..” you push past him and quickly walk out of the little room. You needed to breathe, your body was going into overdrive and it felt like it was on fire. This wasn’t supposed to feel good. Your body isn’t supposed to react that way. These feelings..were sinful. 
The donation drive was still busy and you didn’t want to be seen. Spotting the empty church you decide its best to put distance between you and Heeseung and try to ground yourself from these overwhelming feelings. You run in and look around the familiar space, you need to pray. You needed to beg for forgiveness. You needed to do something to stop these feelings. 
Your eyes lock onto the confessional booth and you breathe a sigh of relief. That could work.
Shutting the door to the small confessional you sit on the wooden chair and try to calm your breathing. You never felt this out of control of your body before, with an uncomfortable tightening in your abdomen. 
You hear the door to the otherside of the confessional open and close, only able to see the silhouette of the person coming in because of the latticed divider providing anonymity for the people who are using it to confess their sins to your father. 
“Are you really hiding from me, in here?”
Of course it’s him. 
“What do you want, Heeseung?” You try your best to sound stable but your voice comes out shaky. 
“Why are you hiding from me angel?”
His voice was laced with more faux sympathy. He knows what he’s doing. He also knows you’re too naive to pick up on how he’s messing with you. 
“You..you make me feel weird..”
“In a bad way?” He can’t help the smile that creeps on his face. 
“In a way..I’ve never felt before..it scares me..I don’t know what to do..”
Fuck you sounded so good like this. So desperate, so ready to be molded into his little slut. 
“Are you wet..”
He was feeling bold now. 
“W-what..”
He can hear the trembling in your voice. He lowers his voice and presses his lips against the lattice screen so you can hear him clearly. 
“Is your little pussy wet for me, angel?”
“H-Heeseung! We’re in the church! Don’t say things like that..”
He can hear the change in your breathing and whine in your tone. Oh, this was going to be a piece of cake. 
You hear him fiddle with the buckle of his belt. “Put your hand in your panties, angel..”
“I can-can’t do that..” You gasp, was he serious? Was he really going to do such immoral things in the confessional? 
“Yes you can angel, do it for me. It’ll make you feel good, baby girl, I promise.” 
As much as he wanted to degrade and ruin you, he couldn’t risk you running out of this booth and telling your father. He had to play with you a little to get you wanting more of him. 
“Touch yourself..tell me how it feels angel..”
His tone was soft and comforting, maybe..maybe just this once. And he was offering to help, you would be rude to not accept his help, right?
Slipping your shaking fingers into your skirt and into panties you feel the amount of arousal that has leaked out of you. “Wh-what do you want me to do..”
He groans, throwing his head back on the confessional wall. The question alone was enough to tip him over the edge. You really were an innocent angel, he was going to mold you into the perfect little plaything for him. 
“Rub your pussy baby, just keep rubbing it for me.”
He spits in his palm and starts rubbing his weeping cock. 
You slid your fingers between your slicked lips, lightly grazing your clit, making your hips buck in the air and a loud whimper escaping your lips before you could clamp your teeth on your bottom lip. You had never felt the need to masturbate before, this was all new to you. You find your clit again and rub your fingers faster against it, moaning out again, he presses his head against the lattice desperate to see you but can only make out the silhouette of your body and your arm moving. He fucks his fist faster to the sounds of your whimpers. 
“I can hear how wet you are angel, fuck I bet you’re dripping all over the chair. Don’t you dare go inside, I’m the only one going inside of that virgin pussy.” 
His dirty mouth only makes you whine and clench around nothing. You pressed your fingers to your entrance, you didn't slip inside, just teased the hole to get a feel for it, even more of your arousal was leaking out of you. You prop a leg on the chair giving you better access to your clit and your rub harder and faster against the swollen bundle. 
“Cum for me angel, let me hear my angel’s sweet voice when she cums.” His voice is husky and you replay the images of your dream, mixed with hearing the sounds of his groans and the squelching of his hand around his cock send you into overdrive moving your hand faster. Your vision goes spotty and you moan out in ecstasy as your orgasm hits you hard and fast. Your head hits the wall as you whine loudly, your toes curling in your shoes. The sound has Heeseung’s eyes rolling into his head and he chokes out a gasp as his cum shoots out in hot thick ropes and coats his hand and part of the confessional box. 
You sink into your chair and try to breathe, your body still convulsing from little aftershocks of your first ever orgasm. Coming down from your euphoric high you see the little cross above the door and feel the shame. 
What have you done? It’s bad enough to act on such desires..but in a confessional. This had to be unforgivable. 
Stepping out of the confessional box on shaky legs you look around the church and feel the shame overtake the high you were just on. 
You're in a church, in God's house, and you just masturbated in a confessional box. The reality of your actions repeating over and over in your head. 
Heeseung opens the door to his side of the box and immediately engulfs you in his arms, his mouth is on yours before you even have time to react; your first kiss.
It’s soft at first, both of his hands coming to cup your face but he gets hungrier by the second. Moving his soft lips against yours chasing every movement, you almost forget to breathe trying to pull away but his grip is tight on you. Sliding his tongue in between your lips and lightly massages your own causing a small groan to bubble within you. He smirks, feeling how cautious and uncertain your tongue moves against his. He pulls away, giving your bottom lip one last lick and pecking it one last time. 
“We should get back out there, angel.” 
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Sunday approached quicker than you would have liked. You spent days replaying the events of what happened with Heeseung over and over. A part of you felt saddened by the whole thing, he didn’t talk to you about it afterward and he didn’t call or text and it seemed like maybe he just wanted to add you to the long list of girls he had. But another part of you was desperate for more of him, wanting him to do more, and wanting to be enough so that he wouldn’t need those other girls. The conflicting sides of you causing inner turmoil and questioning your place in the world.
You spent your whole life with a moral code, you never let anyone challenge that or try and change who you were. And now, you didn’t know where you stood. Because if Heeseung didn’t want to be with you, and he was just using you, that would mean you changed your core values for someone who didn’t respect you. And what respectable man would want you after that? After you easily give up your innocence to someone with a questionable reputation. 
You shake the thoughts out of your head and wipe the tears on the back of your hand and continue to straighten up the church altar. Services ended an hour ago, everyone had gone home and you were left alone to clean up the altar and the mess of your life. Heeseung didn’t sit with you today like he usually did and it was his last Sunday of his community service sentence, he left right after service. So it’s safe to assume he's just gone and you were passing the time for him while he was here. 
“What are you doing in here?” Heeseung asks, startling you. You turn around and watch him walk down the aisle to the altar he sees you cleaning.
“Just putting some stuff away,” you mumbled wiping the rag across the marble altar table. 
“Where is your father?” He asks looking around making sure no one was in sight. 
“The clergy have a lunch meeting together this afternoon, I told my father I’d stay behind to clean so he can attend.”
He hears the sadness in your voice and bites back a smile. He saw you the entire service staring at him with hopeful eyes trying to get his attention. He wanted you to miss him, to want him, to need him. And judging by the sad tone and watery eyes, his plan had worked. He had you right where he wanted you. 
“Why are you still here? Isn’t today your last Sunday?” you ask, finally meeting his eyes.  
“Is that why you’re sad, angel? Because you think I’d leave without my girl?” He smiled, stopping in front of the altar. You roll your eyes and turn back around to finish what you were doing. 
“I’m not your girl Heeseung,” 
“You and I both know that’s a lie, angel. Careful, God doesn’t like liars.” He taunts coming up behind you and rubbing his hands down your arms. He feels you tense under his touch, the goosebumps rise on your skin. 
Dropping his face down to your shoulder he sighs softly, “you know, you look really angelic right now..standing here in this pretty white dress, all these candles lit, it's almost sinful how beautiful you look.” He whispers in your ear gently nipping at your earlobe. 
You grip the rag in your hand tightly. “What do you want from me, Heeseung?” 
“I want you,” He answers, kissing your shoulder. 
“I don’t..I don’t want to be like other girls..” you softly admit.
He smirks against your shoulder rubbing his hands on your hips and turning you around.
“Angel, you’re nothing like the other girls.”
“Really…?” You look up at him with your wide doe eyes and he smiles. 
Gotcha, angel. You’re mine now. 
“Trust me baby, they don’t compare to you..”
The innocent smile on your face was going straight to his cock. He needed to work fast. Rubbing your cheek tenderly he kisses your lips, letting his tongue work its way into your mouth. He grabs your hand in his larger one and guides it down to the front of his jeans placing it right over his hard on. You gasp and pull away confused, but he chases your mouth with his and continues to kiss you while he “whines” to you. 
“Angel..*kiss*..it hurts..*kiss*..it hurts so bad..*kiss*..please touch me angel..*kiss*..make it better..please..” The soft whine in his voice makes you want to help. You don’t want him to hurt, you have to help him. 
You were too fucking easy to mold. 
He unbuckles his jeans and lowers them just enough to release himself. Your hands are clumsy as you reach for him, he sees your nervousness and it only fuels the fire. Wrapping your small hand around his heavy length you look at him for guidance. He wraps his hand around yours and guides it up and down in a pumping motion. You watch his eyes close and hear him hiss, “Fuck…just like that angel..”
He lets you work on his length for a few minutes before he tests the waters again. 
“Angel..I need more..I need your mouth. Can you be a good girl and get on your knees for me?”
You stop pumping him and look at him for a few seconds. You nod, and drop to your knees on the wooden floor and you finally fully take the sight of him. He’s long and thick, it bobs in the air, it’s two toned with an angry red tip and salty precum leaking from the slit. The sight had your mouth watering.
The sight of you finally on your knees in front of him was almost too much. He wasn’t going to last long. 
You look up at him and grab his cock and lick a circle around the mushroom tip, suckling the tip to drink in his precum. 
His knees almost give out instantly. This was already better than any prior sexual experience he had ever had. 
“Angel..” He breathes out and makes a makeshift ponytail out of your hair. You keep his eye contact and take his length slowly into your mouth, hoping you're doing okay. Your tongue glides around his throbbing length and he moans again. 
“Do you want me to guide you angel..” 
You hum around him and the smug grin returns to his face. “Relax your jaw and let me take over.”
You obey and he hums stroking your cheek. The sweet affection only lasts for a second before he pulls your mouth further down his cock and you choke around him. The vibrations only added to his pleasure. Tears sting your eyes as he starts to fuck your face pushing your head down further and further on his cock. 
“That’s it angel..you’re doing so well for me..”
His praises only fuel you to try and be good for him. You let him continue to pound into your throat, the chocked sounds around his cock pushing him close to his release. 
Your tear eyes and mouth wrapped around him, having him seeing stars, he pulls out quickly. He was only going to cum in one hole today and it wasn’t going to be your mouth. He watches the spit and precum dribble down your chin and mix with your tears. 
Fuck. He was so close to losing all self control. 
“Fuck me angel, you look so good like this, what would God say of he saw you like this,” He teases wiping the mess off your chin.
“Don’t say that..”you frowned.
The pout..that fucking pout did it. It pushed him to the edge. 
“Fuck…I cant hold on anymore I have to fuck you.” His eyes narrowed as he gripped you by your hair to your feet.  
“Hee-Heeseung I can’t..” you shake your head and try to back away. 
“You can and you will, angel.”
You stare at him with a confused expression, was he serious? He doesn’t give you time to take in his words because he's picking you up and leaning you against the marble altar you just cleaned. He places you on the altar, discarding the large Bible, and other items to the floor before sitting you down and slotting himself between your legs. 
He grabbed the front of your dress and yanked it down with your bra exposing your bare tits to him, your nipples instantly harden from the cool air. 
You truly looked sinful. Sitting on the church altar, bible discarded on the floor, lit candles around the both of you, the sun shining in through the stained glass windows painting you in red hues, if there truly was a God Heeseung was going to hell for what he was about to do to God’s favorite angel.
Your doe eyes were wide with anticipation as you stared at him waiting for his next move. Everything around you seemed to have blur out, no longer caring where you were. All you could focus on was Heeseung. 
He takes one of your hardened nipples into his mouth and massages the other with his large hand, pinching the bud between his fingers. Your jaw goes slack at the feeling of his tongue, you arch into him at the new sensation. 
While you're distracted he slips his hand under your dress and skillfully tugs down your panties, of course noticing how the entire front of them are completely drenched in your arousal. He bites down harder on your nipple and sucks harshly causing you to arch your back again and lean your head back further and he carefully slots the ruined panties in his back pocket while you’re not looking. A perfect reminder of today. 
Pulling away he kisses your chest before standing up straight and looking down on you, he pushes you gently on your back, you shiver feeling the cold marble under your back. He pushes your knees up and places your feet flat on the altar displaying your leaking pussy to him. He licked his bottom dip, he wanted a taste of you, but time was a factor and he needed to get his dick in you fast before you got lost in your head and changed your mind. 
He ran his fingers over your slippery pussy gathering some of your moisture and rubbed around your entrance and slowly pushed one of his long fingers inside. He watched your eyes flutter shut and mouth drop open. Fuck, you were impossibly tight.
You felt your walls clenching around him and he shoved another finger in. You moaned out at the intrusion.
You pushed yourself up on your elbows as you watched, he continued to scissor his two fingers inside of you to stretch you out.
“Does it feel good angel?” He whispers against your knee and kisses it. 
You nod cautiously, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. 
“You're so fucking tight I don’t know if my cock will fit in this little pussy angel.” He smirks feeling how you clench around his fingers at his dirty talk. 
His long fingers explored you searching for that special spot. He taps a particular spongy spot and you drop back onto your back moaning loudly, and your hips buck into his hand. 
Found it. 
The amount of moisture leaking out of you was sinful, he dropped his head between your thighs and licked a stripe from his fingers to your clit to just get a taste of you. You jerked at the sensation and clenched harder around his fingers. 
Fuck, he usually couldn’t be bothered about going down on women, but you tasted so sweet he was definitely going to have to spend an hour or two later just devouring your leaking cunt. Kissing the inside of your thigh he fucks his fingers into you faster, making sure to hit that spongy spot.
“Come on angel..cum for me..”
He latches his mouth back onto your chest leaving purple bites in his path. You groan the feeling of that familiar knot in your abdomen is back. Running your fingers through his messy dark hair you arch slightly more into his mouth, your hips stutter, and you release all over his hand crying out. His fingers stayed inside of you working you through your orgasm.
Watching you come down from your high his dark eyes flicker to the large cross above you and he chuckles softly, maybe he should thank the heavens for bringing you to him. 
His smirk is devilish as he pulls his fingers from you and pumps himself a few times and pulls your body closer down to his awaiting cock.
He sees the apprehension on your face and smiles. “Don’t worry angel, I’ll make it fit.”
You nervously try to close your legs but he slaps the outside of your thigh harshly making you whine, “your pussy is mine, angel. Don't hide it from me."
You whine and let him spread your legs. 
He grabbed his cock and spread your release along his aching length. He pressed his tip to your folds and rubbed it back and forth, from clit to your entrance making you writhe in overstimulation.
In a moment of slight panic realizing what was about to happen you brought your hands up to his chest to try and push him away. 
“Wait Heeseung..I don’t think I’m ready..”
“Stop thinking angel, just let me think for you,” He smirks and you feel his mushroom tip stretching you as he pressed inside of you slowly. He lifted the bottom of your dress to your chest so he wouldn't miss the view.
You hissed and he went deeper, pushing a little at a time. He pushed your body down on the altar flat on your back as he pushed into your walls further. Your nails scraping the marble under you and tears filled your wide eyes as you felt him reach the thin barricade of your virginity. This was it, there wasn't any coming back from this. You took a shaky breath, your body was trembling underneath him, he moaned loudly as he ripped right past it and you choked out a sob when you felt it break.
God, forgive me.
You let out a small pained whimper as he continued stretching you to your limit, the further he pushed in the more painful it was. Finally, he reached the hilt inside your tight virgin hole. His pelvis pressed right against yours. 
He stayed buried inside your heat as he leaned down and placed a tender soft kiss on your lips. Nipping at your bottom lip and slithering his tongue past the barrier and exploring your mouth trying to distract you from the discomfort. Your mouth was slack against his, the stretch was too painful to focus on anything else.
Breaking the kiss, he looked down at you grinning at the sight of the small bulge under your belly button where his cock was. 
“You’re taking me so well angel,”
He pressed down on the bulge and watched you gasp out. “You feel that? God made you for me.” He whispered, wrapping his hand around your neck applying slight pressure. 
You were shaking, the tears never stopped streaming down your reddened cheeks. He pulled out of you and you breathed a sigh of relief from the pain subsiding but he pushed back in you hard, causing another choked sob from your throat. He kept his thrusts at a fixed pace at first, easing himself in and out as you whimpered and writhed under him. He took a second to admire the way your body twisted against him. The more his cock filled you, the better it started to feel, the dull pain between your legs starting to fade into bliss. 
He smiles proudly seeing you start to relax and let your body slowly start to rock against his. 
“That’s it angel, fuck that little virgin pussy on me” He sped up his thrusts, moving his hand between the two of you and pressing his fingers down on your clit. Your back arches off the altar, “oh god!”
“Not God baby…say my name..scream it.”
You wrapped your thighs around him as he rocked into you harder. “Heeseung!”
Your eyes rolled back as your body was fully succumbing to the pleasure he was giving you. You could barely feel any pain anymore as he fucked harder and faster into you. Your hands went straight to his shoulders for leverage, “M-more…Hee-Heeseung, I need more..”
He groaned, watching you bounce against him, licking his lips, his pace picked up. “my angel wants more? You want me to fuck you harder baby?”
You nod, scraping your nails down his shoulders.
“Say it angel. Tell me what you want.”
He needed to hear it, he needed to hear the dirty words leave your mouth. He had to hear and see the vision of you he’s been so desperate to have. 
Your wide teary eyes stare up at him, the silver cross necklace bouncing on your bare chest with every harsh thrust he gives only adds to the sinful sight.
“Fuck me..please fuck me, Heeseung.”
The sight and sound was better than anything he could have ever imagined.
He plunged into you without any restraint, no more holding back. You were like his very own fuckdoll now, your body was at his mercy. His fingers kept rubbing your clit, The noises escaping him were feral. He was lost to his own pleasure.
His thrusts grew even more ferocious as he hammered into you relentlessly. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced your head to look down where he was entering you. 
“Do you see that angel? You’re all mine now,” he growled.
You clenched your jaw as you looked at the sight of his cock entering you at a fast pace. His entire pelvis was coated with your arousal, you could see a small hint of your blood along his cock.
He noticed it too, it only made him want to fuck your harder.
“Say it, say you’re mine,”
"I-I'm y-yours!"
You hugged him with your legs, clinging to his shoulders as you came again. Your walls squeeze him tight as you released yourself on his cock. "I’m going to cum, angel,” He mumbled against your open mouth. He threw his head back and you felt the spurts of warmth bloom within you. He let his head hang back for a moment before he looked at you and slowly pushed your body back down onto the altar. He stayed inside of you, looking down at your fucked out body. His hand glided over your trembling thighs. Leaning down on top of you he kisses along your collarbone as you continue to shake from your orgasm.
You both stayed in each other's arms panting for a few more minutes, his lips leaving soft kisses along your sweaty skin. He hears you sniffle and pulls away. Your face is tilted back as you stare at the large cross above the both of you as silent tears stream down your face. He only smirks, he won. 
Your arms are still wrapped around him, he takes your left arm and removes it from him, breaking you out of your trance. Gently grabbing your wrist he brings your hand to his mouth and slips your ring finger into his mouth and uses his tongue to aid him in removing the silver purity ring. He holds the once sacred jewelry between his teeth with a cocky grin and spits it out. You cringe hearing the metal clink and bounce off of the marble altar down to the wooden floor.
“You definitely can’t wear that anymore, angel.”  He rubs his large hands over your thighs and up to your stomach. “You don’t belong to God anymore.” He pulls out of you and smiles watching the creamy mess leak out of you and fall onto the sacred altar. You whine loudly when he dips a finger into your sore hole, he scoops a small amount of both of your releases and taps your lips. You open obediently and let him slip the mixture into your mouth. “You belong to me now.”
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ੈ✩‧₊˚Yeah, this was def supposed to be more plot than porn but uhhh yeah that didn't really happen....oops. I have a perm taglist and my WIP is updated, let me know if you want to join 🫶🏼ੈ✩‧₊˚
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Today's @wolfstarmicrofic prompt is a Hospital AU
(503 words.)
CW: Cancer
"Moony!" Sirius shoves the door open with a grin, trying not to flinch at how small Remus looks in the bed today. Remus offers him a sleep filled smile, shifting his weight until he's sitting up. "Check this out." With that, he triumphantly drops a leaflet onto Remus' lap.
Remus picks it up, eyes roving over the page.
"A medical trial," Remus says, and Sirius is so excited he doesn't even notice the trepidation wavering in Remus' voice.
"Yeah! It's actually really fascinating. It's a combination of new medications alongside chemotherapy-"
"Sirius." His voice is quiet, practically inaudible, but Sirius isn't finished.
"It also makes use of a natural environment environment to try to-"
"Sirius," He says firmly.
"Remus, you don't get it." He looks up at Remus with shining eyes, gesturing to the leaflet. "People are going in terminal and coming out perfectly healthy."
"I do get it, Sirius. Let me guess," He sets the leaflet down without opening it, "they're calling it the first real breakthrough in years? That it'll revolutionise cancer care? It almost seems to be a miracle treatment?"
"Yeah. Yeah, they are." He doesn't really see Remus' point.
"Love, I've been a part of countless trials. They all say the same thing, but I'm still here, aren't I?"
"You never know, though. This could be the one!" Sirius tries.
"You know, this is why they took you off my case," Remus says with a smile, reaching out and tangling their fingers together. "You got attached. Isn't that, like, the one thing interns aren't supposed to do?" Sirius huffs an empty laugh, looking at the abandoned leaflet. "Sirius, look at me."
Sirius lifts his head, eyes meeting Remus'. There's an intensity in them that Sirius wasn't expecting, slightly taken aback. His face is gaunt, exhausted by the constant treatment.
"You're beautiful," Sirius says softly, squeezing Remus, hand.
"I'm going to die, Sirius," Remus answers simply, gently.
"No. No, you-"
"Yes, I am. We both knew that going in, my love. You don't have to stay and watch that happen, really you don't, but you- you can't fix this. Nobody can."
For some reason, this is when it finally hits Sirius. Everything that he's been trying to do, the conversations that they've been having. It all finally sinks in.
The tears come with it, breaking down before he has a chance to say anything back. He can barely even register the way Remus tugs at his hand, pulling him onto the bed and wrapping his arms around Sirius. The moment arms are around him, warm and comfortable and safe, he curls up into Remus' side and sobs. He cries until he can't breathe, can't think, can't even cry anymore. He's grieving the life he could have gotten with the man holding him through it.
If only they had met under better circumstances. Like normal people, through friends, or at a party. That way, he'd get to watch as Remus grew old, grown right alongside him.
He fucking hates the universe.
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justapoet · 1 day
Text
Random dialogue prompt list
"Have you ever been in love?" "No. Why?" "I think I'm in love with you."
Distancing themself from the other because they start to think that there is definitely something wrong with them
Stuttering
"I missed you so much, I don't know why. But, I did."
"You look perfect in this outfit." "Oh."
“Tell me you did not go to a fight without me.” “I don’t need you to protect me.” “It’s not about protection-”
"Did you forget that it was your turn to grab the groceries today?" "Yeah, sorry. I thought I'd wait for you so we can go together?"
“The problem lies within the fact that I want more. That’s what scares me the most, because I don’t want to want more. But I can’t help it.” 
“You said you loved me last night.”
“So that confession…” “Didn’t mean shit ‘cause I was drunk. And I don’t want you accepting that. Let me confess to you, properly, at the least.”
“I swear I didn’t murder anyone.” 
"Who are you when you're not performing?" "Fuck. Marry me."
“You have the most beautiful smile, you know that?”
“I just want(ed) to make you smile.”
“I was just getting my coffee, but then I fell in love with you”
"I…I missed you." "Oh."
“I desperately want to kiss you.”
“Maybe it’s a good mood. Maybe it’s a manic episode.”
"Don't open your eyes"
"Goddammit, don't say that!"
“Fuck it. I’m in.” 
“Too late. I’m already yours.”
“Nothing - no matter how weird or dark - could ever change the way I feel about you.”
“For once, I’m completely serious.”
“I don´t believe that you know what the hell you are doing half of the time.” 
“There isn’t a single unit of thought behind your eyes.” “Of course, not. I’m looking at you. My brain doesn’t work when I’m looking at you.”
"Are we going to talk about it?"
“I’d tear down mountains and rewrite the stars just to see you smile.”
“You weren’t part of my life plan.”
“So, tell me, what do you feel for me?”
“I’m this close to resorting to physical violence if shit continues to not work out.”
“I don’t know what to do.” 
“Say another word and I´ll shove these fries down your throat.” 
“Could you even try to be nice to me today?”
“There are about thirty-five ways this could go wrong. I’d say that’s pretty good odds.”
"Are you seriously considering to go through with this complete absurd?"
"It's a miracle you're still alive." "Mom does say you're a miracle worker, yes."
"You're sick. Did the fever make you forget how to dial my number?"
"Just do it, you moron."
"My self-control is hanging by a thread right now. Please, don't do this to me."
“Hey, neighbour, I’ve never met you before but your dog just destroyed my garden."
“Well, I’m afraid that opinion’s going to change once you get to know me.”
"Ever thought of stepping outside, or have you become part of the furniture?"
"Can you just look at me? Please?"
"I needed to hear your voice."
“Just to clarify: We are in a relationship, right?”
"You're the only thing I should be afraid of, and that fear died off years ago."
“it’s a bit frustrating to how oblivious you are.”
“what do i have to do or say for you to notice that i’m in love with you?”
“Yeah, that wasn’t supposed to happen and I was not supposed to say that, I’m so sorry.” 
so, hi! this is just a silly prompt list, but I'd very much like to ask you to send me asks and resquest a fic from any of them!
I'll be writing for the following couples:
Buddie (9-1-1)
Percabeth (Percy Jackson)
Nick and Chalie (Heartstopper)
Aziracrow (Good Omens)
Polin (Bridgerton)
Kathony (Bridgerton)
If you have any other couples from these universes that you might want, you can send them to me, as well. Other than Buddie (that it's not canon just yet), I like best to only write canon couples.
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bitterspoons · 2 days
Text
For once, I thought it was me.
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Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader
Summary: Soulmate au where you can hear the songs your soulmate is listening to. Fred asks your best friend—Angelina—to the ball thinking she's his soulmate.
use of y/n
Warnings: Angst and just a lil' fluff
Word Count:
part one / part two coming soon
A/N: of course the first thing I write is a soulmate au 😭—it's fine and I hope you like it.
"Angelina!" Y/n calls, running over to the Gryffindor table—almost tripping over her feet before placing a hand on Angelina's shoulder.
"Yes?" Angelina looked up from her conversation with the Weasley twins and smiled at her best friend. The Great Hall was bustling with noise.
Y/n panted, catching her breath as she fixed her hair. "Sorry—I just—I ran—oh god I'm dying—" Y/n tried to catch her breath before waving her hand at the twins. "Give me a second—continue your conversation..."
Angelina chuckled before turning back to George and Fred. "This is my friend, Y/n." Angelina introduced. "She's in Hufflepuff so I doubt you would've met her."
Y/n waved, stealing some of Angelina's water.
"Why haven't you invited her to some of our parties?" George asked, batting his eyes. "It would've been nice, seeing a pretty face more often."
Angelina rolled her eyes at the flirt, making space next to her for Y/n. "Yeah, I've asked her but she's not a huge fan of social events." She explained. "It's a miracle she's even in the Great Hall—why aren't you with Willow?"
"Oh, I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out after Divination. Turns out my detention with Professor Sprout is cancelled!" The Hufflepuff said happily, still a bit red from George's flattering.
"Hell yeah!" Angelina cheered. "I told you she loves you."
Y/n smiled. "Yeah but turning her favorite plant into a pair of heels is pushing the line."
Fred cackled. "Y/n, You did what?!"
In her head, a symphony sounded. Him just saying her name sounded like an orchestra.
Pops of warmths fidgeted around her. She had always had a crush on the Weasley, and she never really knew when it happened. She hasn't told a soul and she never would. It was just— he always seemed so happy. She had made him happy, she made him laugh.
Y/n beamed as she explained how she had gotten too caught up with her conversation with Angelina about what shoes to wear for the Yule Ball, she had completely forgotten about the spell she was casting.
"Little Chéri's a troublemaker huh?" Fred teased, scrunching up his nose.
"Chéri?!" Angelina cackled—not a fan of pet names in the slightest.
George grumbled. "Fred has been learning French so he can impress girls."
Y/n laughed, taking a sip of Angelina's water again. "I think it's cute." She bit the tip of her thumbs, an old habit of hers.
"Ever the hopeless romantic, Y/n." Angelina commented, stealing her drink back.
The four engaged in conversation until a Slytherin tapped on Y/n's shoulder. "Uh—Y/n, I think I have a fitting right now." She said awkwardly, getting glares from the Gryffindors.
"Oh!" Y/n shot up, grabbing the last strawberry off of Angelina's plate before grabbing Angelina's pen—sticking it behind her ear—and running off, dragging the Slytherin with her.
"Hey!" Angelina protested, grumbling as she bit into her toast.
"What was that about?" Fred asked, battling Ron for the last corndog.
"Huh? Oh—Y/n and I are helping organise the Ball." Angelina explained, not seeing how Fred watched her run her fingers through her hair as she grabbed another pen to do her Potions Homework. "She's helping make and tailor people's outfits."
"Y/n?" Hermione clarified, popping into the conversation. "She's ridiculously talented, she made the dress I'm wearing!"
"She made adjustments on mine!" Angelina looked at Hermione. "I didn't like how bland my dress was, so she helped bedazzled it."
"Do you think she can fix Fred's dress?" George asked, earning a punch from Fred. "Ow! No seriously though, his tie is all wonky and his pants go way past his feet. Poor bloke's gonna trip!"
Angelina laughed, packing her stuff away and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Find out yourself! I have to go check up on the Frog Choir."
Just a couple minutes later, Fred heard oddly croaky choruses from his soulmate.
●●●
Fred was trying to go the sleep that night, but all he could hear was stupid music.
When he couldn't decipher whether he was hearing it through his soulmate or if he was hearing it in the common room, he shoved his slippers on and slowly went down stairs.
As he peeked his head around the corner, he saw Angelina dancing with somebody—a CD player in the background as they laughed.
It was the same music playing in his head...Is Angelina—actually his soulmate?
He watched Angelina dance with her friend, practicing their dance for the ball before slowly going back upstairs.
Y/n and Angelina fell the floor in a heap, almost crying of laughter as Angelina stepped on Y/n's foot and then went crashing to the floor.
"So, are you planning on asking your mystery crush to the ball?" Angelina asked, rolling onto her stomach and popping the CD out.
Angelina didn't have a clue about her crush on one of the Weasley twins. Y/n refused to tell her, but she did give vague details about why she liked him so much.
"You think I have time for that?" Y/n questioned, brushing her hair. "Even if I did have the time to ask him, he's probably not even my soulmate."
"Who cares?" Angelina asked, exasperated.
Angelina was one of the people who couldn't hear music from their soulmate, it happened more than you'd think—about as common as dyslexia.
Angelina didn't give two fucks about whether the person she was dating was her soulmate, she tended to do whatever she wanted.
"Well—my soulmate is pretty cool too." Y/n protested.
"Well obviously!" Angelina retorted. "They has to be good enough for our Y/n"
"Oh stop it." Y/n laughed, throwing her hairbrush at Angelina. "I won't have time to ask someone and besides, I think he likes someone else." Y/n looked down, fiddling at the edge of her pink pyjamas.
"Your soulmate or your crush?"
"Maybe both!"
●●●
Fred woke up early today, mostly because he couldn't sleep. I mean, he just found his soulmate! This is the moment that everybody waits for, and it finally happened!
Fred was utterly in love with whoever his soulmate was. The two soulmates have sang duets with each other since they could talk—never making any action to try and find each other but Fred would be lying if he said he hadn't blasted music in his ears just to see if someone in the Great Hall would react.
His soulmate was constantly listening to music and singing songs, it comforted him whenever he heard it—especially since he's heard it since he was little.
And it was Angelina, a girl he was been trying not to crush on for ages.
Fred walked down the stairs, almost laughing when he saw Angelina.
Angelina and Y/n were completely passed out on the common room couches, paper sprawled out as they were doing a history of magic essay.
Fred shook Angelina awake. "Angie...Angie!"
Angelina fell off the bed. "What?"
Fred grinned. "I just thought you might wanna head to bed before the rest of the house wakes up."
Angelina rubbed her eyes before looking around—seeing essay papers, pens and her best friend, still sleeping as she sleepily held the tip of her thumb in her mouth and lulled herself asleep. "What time is it?"
"You have a little less than three hours before everybody else wakes up."
Angelina sighed, getting up and separating their papers and pens. "Hey, Fred?"
"Yeah?" He said hopefully.
"Can you do me a favour?"
Angelina handed him a messenger bag with little bows and gold chains decorating it, he took it without question as she continued.
"Do you think you could get Y/n to her common room? This is.. um This is the longest she's slept for a while and I don't know how to get into the Hufflepuff common room."
Fred thought for a moment—but who was he to deny his soulmate? After all, getting into the Hufflepuff dorms were easy—having learned the ins and outs of practically the whole school.
So Fred slung the bag across his shoulder and walked over to Y/n, still sleeping peacefully.
"Thank you!" Angelina grabbed her own supplies and started going up stairs. "You're the best!" She called. "I'll get you a tailoring with her today! Is dinner alright?"
Fred nodded, slowly picked Y/n up, putting her on the couch so he could give her a piggy back ride to her common room. "Hold on..."
Almost as if her sleeping body could hear it, Y/n's body tensed up, making it easier for Fred to carry.
So Fred walked out of the Gryffindor dormitories and started walking in the halls to go to the Hufflepuff common room.
The sun had barely risen, shining dull lights into the hallway and Fred felt Y/n shift in her sleep—ignoring how his skin fluttered as her breath rolled on top of it.
Fred almost stopped walking as Y/n shifted once more, making a small whimper, trying to pull her hand closer to her face.
"Chéri, if you move your hand, you're gonna fall—okay?" Fred said softly, adjusting his grip on her legs, making sure she wouldn't slip.
Y/n hummed in response, tucking her head on Fred's shoulder as he kept on walking.
Fred was halfway to the common room—walking slowly as to not wake up Y/n when he froze.
Having her thumb clasped between her fingers around Fred's chest, supporting her upper body weight—Fred felt her head twitching, needing something to soothe her to sleep.
Not wanting to have to explain the situation to the sleeping girl or disappoint Angelina—Fred adjusted the girl, now giving her a piggy-front, letting Y/n head sit comfortably against his neck.
Fred debated checking whether his face was on fire when the sleeping girl began to press little kisses on his neck, trying to substitute something for her thumb.
Fred continued walking, but why was he so flustered?
Maybe it’s his soulmate’s best friend.
What was her name again? Y/n?
Fred knocked on the Hufflepuff dorm door in the tune of Helga Hufflepuff. Before walking in and taking the stairs to the girl’s dormitory.
Trying not to feel awkward, he searched the dorm labels until he saw it.
______________
Girls Dorm #207
- Susan Bones
- Lia Diggory
- Y/n L/n
______________
Praising Merlin that she didn’t have too many roommates— He knocked on the door a few times, jumping up again to make sure Y/n didn’t slip.
"Hello?" A small voice asked, a very tired red head opened the door.
Fred gave an award smile. "I have a delivery?"
The girl smiled before letting him in and pointing at the empty bed and messed up desk.
Feed walked over, clutching on to Y/n as he quickly flipped the blanket open and tucked her instead. Y/n immediately latched onto the blankets.
Fred smiled before looking at her desk—tons of dress designs a long with tons of reminders everywhere when a certain one caught his eyes.
The Weasley Twins Inspired Dress
Curious, he picked up the sketch to see that she managed to make a confetti canon dress, inspired by that time he and George covered the Slytherin team in confetti right before a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff.
"I think you're cute together," Susan whispered bashfully, her cheeks pink.
"Oh no," her face fell when Fred denied it. "I already found my soulmate today."
"Oh I'm sorry." Susan apologised, combing her hair. "I just thought your h—never mind." She began to point at her neck before waving it off. "I assume you know how to take care of it?"
"Yeah! I'm planning on asking her to the yule ball!" Fred said, not having any idea what Susan was talking about.
"What? Ya know what—" Susan dug through her make up bag before grabbing Fred's arm and swatching some concealer shades. "You're lucky, you're my winter shade." Susan tossed Fred a concealer wand before shooing him out. "Bye!"
Holding onto the concealer, extremely confused, Fred walked back to him common room before going into the bathroom.
"Shit." Fred vocalised, realising why Susan Bones has thrown him concealer.
A light hickey lay on the side of his neck where Y/n had been.
Fred spent the next two hours trying to figure out how concealer worked.
He didn't understand it—instead opting for a scarf instead to cover up the blotchy disaster he created on his neck.
●●●
Y/n genuinely didn't question why she woke up in her bed and more concerned on her planner—you could see her running up and down the halls all day.
"Professor Moody, may I borrow Ron Weasley please?"
Ron showed her his suit for the ball. "Never mind, you're beyond help. Professor Moody, you can have him back." Y/n said, scribbling something out in her planner.
Taking the stairs, Y/n just started walking—flipping to the back of her planner to edit some sketches and ideas for dresses—not noticing the stair cases changing directions.
Walking up and down and sideways along the halls, Y/n kept walking until she bumped into someone.
"I'm so sorry!" She said automatically only to be shushed by two voices. "Huh—?"
""SHH!" Y/n looked at the two Weasley twins.
"Why?" She asked, looking around to see nobody.
"I don' know," Fred admitted.
"We're skipping, so I assume we have to be quiet." George finished.
The Hufflepuff scoffed. "I'm not skipping. I did all my work in advance so I could focus of the dress making." She looked down at the planner. "And on that note—you have a appointment with me in two minutes. We can't be late!"
"Does that mean you have the answers?" Fred asked as he got dragged away.
"We can discuss answers after we're on time for our session."
"If it's our appointment, how can we be late?"
Y/n sighed, shaking her head. “It’s fine we’re almost there, Willow’s gonna be upset.”
“Who?”
Y/n dragged Fred near a tree where a small desk, mannequins and color swatches were, Y/n thrust Fred upon a little platform until tree branches began to swing around chaotically.
“Willow! Calm down! This isn’t Ron! This is a different Weasley!” Y/n started yelling.
“Willow? As in the Whomping Willow?!”
“Stop moving!” Y/n snapped, petting the branches. “Willow didn’t like it when your brother nearly killed her with a car. I think she has like— Weasley trauma.”
Fred cackled. “Weasley trauma?” A tree branch slapped the back of his head. “Hey!”
“She’s very sensitive.” Y/n defended. “Speaking of Ron, please tell me your suit isn’t as hideous.”
“Don’t worry— I just have a normal suit… I wasn’t sure if I should’ve brought it so I just wore it—”
“That’s perfect. Mind shrugging off the jacket and scarf?”
Nervously, Fred took off the scarf and jacket, revealing the concealer mess on his neck.
“Oh sweetie, what the hell happened to your neck!” Y/n cooed. "Goodness, let me help you. You're gonna break out... Accio makeup kit!"
"I have every shade under the sun, I'm helping people with their makeup too." Y/n waved her hand down. "Get down, off." Y/n stepped onto the platform as Fred stepped off, facing Y/n.
Y/n took a makeup wipe and cleaned up the spot before taking out a whisk and spinning it on the hickey.
"When did you learn how to hide hickey? Does that even work?" Fred asked, watching the metal kitchen utensil.
"Oh hush, it's common knowledge." Y/n pushed his face away, continuing to whisk. "It helps the blood disperse. Next time, put ice on it before it bruises."
Shade matching and blending it in, Y/n hoped Fred couldn't hear her heart beating out of her chest as she finished hiding the red mark. "See? Like it never even happened."
Willow presented a mirror for Fred to see for himself, thank god because that scarf was very itchy.
"Now, how much are we thinking off the tie?" Y/n held up a tape measure and a sharpie, tucking the sharpie behind her ear. "It supposed to be around your belt buckle...Do you feel comfortable with it over here?"
Fred nodded, looking at her in the mirror more than him. Why hadn't he seen her more often? Has she been friends with Angelina for a long time?
"Lovely...okay do you mind if I take this?" Y/n took the colorful tie off Fred and held it up to Willow." Willow, this is Fred's tie." Willow held onto the tie.
"Okay just one second..." Y/n brought out a sheet of brown fabric and a sheet of black fabric and hopped onto the platform with him. She pulled the black one around half of his chest and the brown one around the other half.
"Okay so I think the brown is more flattering on you, I feel like you look paler with the black one—Hey!"
Fred's head started tilting to one side as he imagined Angelina and her hanging out—still in disbelief he had actually found his soulmate.
Y/n grabbed his jaw and moved it so that it faced her. "Sorry, I just need to see—" Y/n furrowed her eyebrows confused as Fred pointed at something in the distance behind her.
Y/n looked behind her only for her jaw to pulled back and facing Fred, pulling the same move she had accidentally done to him. "Touché," She smiled—desperately hoping she wasn't blushing.
"How long have you friends with Angelina?" Fred asked, snapping Y/n out of her mental freakout.
"Oh—uh, since first year. We met on the train." Y/n cast a spell to turn Fred's suit brown. "Yeah that looks better—you looked like you were going to a funeral."
“Then why do I never see you guys hang out?”
Y/n thinks before answering. “I like to keep myself busy, that or I just eat in the kitchen.”
“Why not hang out with Angelina?”
“Uh- Well Alicia and I don’t really get along so I don’t want to make it weird for Angelina. Besides, most of the time Angelina hangs out with me in the kitchen.”
So that’s why Fred never sees Angelina in the Great hall. “Why the kitchen?”
“Because the house elves love me.” Y/n smiled, writing her to do list. “Besides, I like baking.”
Fred stepped off the platform and watched Y/n write. “Do you bake any of the food in the Great Hall?”
“The brownies, but sometimes I also cook the ribs but I like baking more than cooking.”
Fred loves the brownies, he eats them every time they show up on the table.
“Speaking of food… It’s dinner, you better hurry before all the seats are taken.” Y/n starting putting things away and getting out a dress presumingly belonging to her next appointment.
Fred stepped off the small platform, checking his covered hickey once more before starting to turn around. "You aren't going to dinner?"
"Maybe later." She responded quickly, casting a spell on the dress. "Not hungry. " She said briefly. "You can pick up your tie by like tomorrow."
"Alright then, I'll see you around?"
"Sure. Angelina! Can you grab that?" A piece of fabric swirled away in the wind near an approaching Angelina.
Fred walked away, happy with his day and his fitting appointment.
(A/N lmao I have nooooo idea how to end these. Part two could be ready tomorrow or in 3 months, we'll see.)
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Text
Just a little thing
Zuko was laying in bed, well he thought he was anyway. He rolled over and could only really make out a door a couple feet away. “Why don't you go to him?”
Zuko could hear a voice….it sounded like his sisters or maybe even his mothers but it was monotone too perfect. None of the softness that came from his mothers or the sharpness that was his sisters.
“Why do you sit there?” Why did he indeed, Zuko was not quite sure his mind was muddled like it was swimming through mud.
“I can't.”
--------------
“Zuko love please wake up,” Sokka shook the other man's body frantically. “Please breathe love!”
--------------
“Can't what?”
“I just can't.”  “Can't go with him?” “I can't follow him through that door”
--------------
“Zu please open your eyes for me,” Sokka’s mind was frantic. This couldn't be happening, he couldn't lose him not now not ever.
“I need you to just do something anything love.”
--------------
“Why can't you follow him through the door?” Zuko tried to look to see who or what was talking but his body was frozen, unable to move, only able to watch the door. “Is the door the thing that scares you? “Who said I was scared?” “Are you saying you aren't?” “No.” “Then what are you afraid of?”
--------------
Sokka ran his hands through his hair, his skin was becoming too pale and his breaths were becoming shorter and less frequent. “No no no love you promised! You promised you would never leave me!” Tears had long since started sliding down his cheeks but they were full on streaming now. “Babe please I need you!” --------------
“I am not afraid of the door” “Are you afraid of him?” “NO!” “Are you afraid-” “No! I’m not afraid of any of that’ “Then what do you fear?” Zuko continued to stare at the door as it seemed to move farther away. It wasn't the distance he feared nor what laid on the other side as long as he had him he did not fear anything. Well except for one thing  
“I fear who I will be on the other side.” --------------
“Zuko? Zuko!” 
His body had gone cold as if someone had smothered the fire that lived in him.
Sokka shook him once more why did it have to be now, when it was just him. No Katara to heal him, no Toph to feel his heartbeat, no Aang to pull some spirit miracle to bring him back. Just Sokka. Sokka who loved him but what good would that do now? “Oh love….please….come back to me.” --------------
“Why?” “Because I don't want to turn into something he fears! I don't want him to regret choosing me.” “Do you regret choosing him?” “Never” “So why do you think he would?” “I-,” Zuko's words stopped as heard ... .a voice. Another one from the other side of the door, different from the one he had been speaking to. Baby..baby please “Well? Will you follow him through the door?” --------------
Zuko's last breath had been several minutes ago but Sokka refused to let him go. To let himself believe that he was gone. “Zuko… Zuko darling” Sokka held his lover and cradled him to his chest. His mind blank he had no plans, no ideas, nothing that could-
Then he felt movement in his arms. “Hnrgh.” “Z-Zuko?” Sokka pulled back and looked down to see two perfect golden eyes blink slowly up at him. “Sokka?”
Tears started once again as he watched Zuko start to breath once more bringing color back to his skin and heat to his body
Sokka kissed him on the forehead, cheeks, nose, lips, and scar. 
“Oh love, don't ever don't do that to me ever again. I love you so much baby you don't know how much you mean to me.”
He buried his face on the other man's neck and just breathed. He was alive, alive, alive he hadn't lost him. He was okay. He was still with him Sokka felt arms wrap around him and a face nudge into his cheek.
“I know love, I know how much I mean to you.”
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digenerate-trash · 1 day
Note
Yandere faction leader sydney x reader headcanons (reader joins the faction originally but after Sirris dies it takes a turn for the worse…)
Sydney- such a sweet innocent presence. him and his dad have been doing everything they can too keep everyone feeling safe and calm.
Sirris keeps everyone fed and clothed. there are fires every night where people share stories and talk and laugh
youre close with Sirris and Sydney. They're the only two people at school that feel like family. and now that you have no home to go back to they might as well be.
when Sirris starts to get sick you worry. you offer him food and water but he readily gives it away to students he thinks need it the most. he gets sluggish and over time
the morning Sydney stops talking is when you know Sirris is gone. you offer to comfort him but Sydney has his own plans. he locks the library and keeps everyone trapped inside. he writes down a lengthy list of rules and posts them up for everyone to see. Sirris is dead and Sydney is now in charge...
the first week goes well. some other students stay silent along with Sydney some offer to do chores to keep the library clean and safe. people are working to make things easier for everyone and despite the tragedy people are calm.
Sydney starts insisting you sleep in the back office with him. he grabs your sleeve and drags you there every night. It's secluded and cold but safe... away from the others...
sometimes in the middle of the night, you think you hear Sydney singing... but that might just be a dream.
after a couple weeks, the isolation is getting to some of the others. they want to see their friends. they want to leave the library. they shout and cause problems. they throw tantrums and refuse to follow the rules. the next day they're gone.
everyone assumes they left. and some of the other people who cause to many problems are gone too. rule breakers escape the library it seems...
still Sydney's closest "disciples" have the first good news since Sirris' death. they've found a hoard of rats they hunt at night. scraps of meat are soon cooked over open fires, it's a miracle everyone gets to eat.
not only that but some of the most devoted followers are allowed to leave the library. they come back with good news from the outside. they bring bottles and buckets of water. though they mention that the world outside is hostile and almost everyone is dead...
eventually, the library becomes quiet. and Sydneykeeps to the back room. he only leaves when he's needed and in the meantime, he keeps you with him. constantly.
you're clean. he pampers you. you get the best cuts of meat and he makes sure you're always clean. he brushes and braids your now long hair keeping you as presentable as possible. but he never lets you leave anymore.
Sydney sometimes leaves at night when he thinks you're asleep and when he comes back his hands are dripping with blood. to much blood... he washes them in a bucket ritualistically before he returns to your side
"Sorry for leaving you" he whispers. his voice a harsh rasp "I had to deal with the Rats again..."
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purple-writer8 · 3 hours
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I Can Do It With a Broken Heart - ACOTAR
Eris x Rhysand’s Sister (Reader)
“I cry a lot but I am so productive. It’s an art.”
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warnings: toxic man implied, abused eris, emotionally unavailable eris, depressed reader, broken up mates, angst
968 words
Masterlist :)
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"Yes, I went to Day and reported the findings to Helion. Then to Thesan." You reported to your High Lord and Lady. Rhysand looked more than pleased, and Feyre could only gape at you in awe. 
"You did all that in a day?" She asked in shock, admiration gleaming in her eyes for you. You nodded, a tired smile adorning your face, "and the ball is all set for tonight." 
Feyre gaped along with her mate, they could hardly believe it. "You are a blessing, a real fucking blessing. Thank you, so much... you will get more than a hefty bonus in your next payment." Rhysand grinned, dark talons caressing your mind in a soothing way. 
You rolled your eyes at your brother, then asked, "why do you two always act like I'm some kind of miracle fae?" 
They glanced at each other, then back at you, and then pity overtook both their stares. You know why. You were supposed to be heartbroken, as you had just ended your betrothal to Eris Vanserra. The two of you were mates, but the abuse he had suffered from his father and the toxic familiar dynamics he had grown up in, made him less than emotionally unavailable. 
He was unable to communicate what he felt, all he could do was share his feelings through your bond. But that was not enough, not when he had commitment issues and acted like an ass to your family. The bond was strong, but your self-respect was stronger.  Especially when you knew what you were worth, being the Night Court's High Lord's sister and Princess of Velaris. 
"What happened with Eris... at the last ball... it was bad..." Feyre trailed, not wanting to exactly mention what had happened. It was fucking painful for you, you had broken your engagement in front of everyone. "And I saw you crying last night... and this morning before your mission..." she added. 
"I cry a lot, but I am still very productive. I can do my work with a broken heart." You replied with a simple shrug, much to Rhysand's dismay. You had always been like that, had always hidden your feelings and done your work even when you were breaking down.
“You’re a real tough kid.” He said softly, violet eyes eyeing you closely, “you complete all your missions seamlessly. You are an example to follow.” 
You chuckled dryly, “yeah, yeah, I am the best. Can I go get ready for tonight? I got the most beautiful dress and I want to try it on.” With that, the couple simply nodded and excused you. 
They were right to be impressed. You wanted to die, and yet— you were ready to shine that night, like every other night. 
Ready to show everyone lies. 
-
The ball in the House of Wind went off without a problem, and like every other night-- you were the center of attention. The gown you wore was magnificent, the light reflected off you in a majestic manner, almost as if you wore liquid starlight in your frame. You stood at the side of the bar with Azriel, watching as everyone arrived, sipping on a tall glass of champagne. You knew Eris was coming, you needed to drink before seeing him. 
"You look pretty," the shadowsinger said in a stoic manner, hazel eyes traveling up and down your frame swiftly. You smirked into your glass, "as do you." 
"Have you spoken to him?" He asked, and you knew he referred to Eris. Azriel cared, and he showed it, having known you since the moment you had been born-- he was protective of you. Especially because he loathed Eris with all his being. 
"Please, he avoids me like I am faebane," you snorted, the alcohol working its magic on you already. And you were grateful for it, because you almost choked when your eyes met the red - haired male that had once promised he would love you for his whole life. What a short life. 
You felt Azriel's eyes on you, his shadows coiling around your ankles in support as you watched Eris strut into the ball as if he owned it. He commanded the room, but that was normal. He was a magnetic force of a male. You looked at Azriel, seeking shelter in his hazel eyes-- the mating bond was tugging you to Eris, his presence was like a fire roaring inside your heart. 
You were about to break down, so you hit the dance floor. Dragging your sister-in-law from her seat next to your brother, you danced and danced. Feyre and you were always a force to be reckoned with when you partied together, and that night was no exception. You both were grinning as you danced, twirling about the Hall as if you were made of starlight. 
The crowd of fae chanted and cheered for you, and you could feel the pieces of your heart shattering on the floor. It was always like that. You were miserable, and no one even knew. You laughed as you danced with Feyre, as if you couldn't feel your mate's heartbreak from across the room. "Eris looks like he wants to die," Feyre whispered as if she could read your mind. 
"Yeah, but if I try to talk to him, he avoids me like I have fae plague," you snickered, your eyes finding the heir of Autumn. As soon as your eyes found his, they were looking away from you, as if he hadn't been watching you dance. You wanted to die, but instead you twirled and grinned as if you were having the time of your life. 
"Then let me talk to him," the High Lady offered, and you stopped your dancing, giving her a stern look. 
"I can handle my shit, Feyre." 
-
Author’s note:
This will probably have a part two because i love eris and i want him to be happy. Also ttpd has me in my feels soooooo probs a lot of angst coming ehfuhihoiqhioghhrueiuifio3iij4rijj
Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @sheblogs
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muleumpyo · 1 day
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ChanBig inspired by the amazing and very very 🔥hot🔥 fic Could Stand Some Lovin' by ThursdayFire (veryrach) (@mightymightygnomepriest)
They fuck, sometimes. They don’t talk about it much, beyond the handful of barebones conversations necessary to set out some ground rules, and arrange their hookups. It’s easy. It’s convenient. It’s perfect, until it’s not.
Below the cut, the scene from the fic that inspired this:
They fuck, sometimes. They don’t talk about it much, beyond the handful of barebones conversations necessary to set out some ground rules, and arrange their hookups. It’s easy. It’s convenient. It’s perfect, until it’s not.
The first time, they bump into each other in a gay bar in Silom. (In many ways, it’s a miracle Big is still alive after having gone through the excruciating agony of bumping into his boss, literally, while wearing leather trousers, and a mesh shirt stretched too tight over his lightly oiled abs.) Big assumes that the best he can hope for is that they both agree to pretend it never happened, and to never mention it again.
He’s wrong.
Chan looks him up and down, his gaze so intense Big swears he can actually feel it raking over his skin, and then he raises a single eyebrow. It’s the hottest thing to ever happen to Big, and it holds that title for another twenty-eight minutes, which is how long it takes Chan to drag Big out of the club and get him into a flat in a building overlooking the compound. It’s expensive but boring, chrome furniture and floor to ceiling windows, a few pictures that look like they were ordered from a catalogue of Especially Bland Art. 
“I didn’t know you lived offsite,” Big says, as Chan pushes him up against a wall and sucks on his nipple through his shirt. 
“Do you want to talk about my living arrangements, or do you want me to bend you over the arm of my couch and fuck you into tomorrow?” Chan asks, which is very useful in helping Big remember how little he cares about where Chan lives. 
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