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#and maybe steal some toes
mariclerc · 14 days
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Dad duties | cl16
Summary: where you meet an adorable dad and his little girl at the beach. Warning: none, just dad!charles, a little emotional, instant crush and FLUFF, pure fluff.
a/n: Hii, a long time ago I was thinking about doing a story about what Charles would be like as a single dad... Something crazy, I know, but I hope you like it!! Let me know if you want a part two of this <3
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Sun gleams off the turquoise water, gentle waves lap at the shore. You walk along the beach, toes sinking into the warm sand. Giggles suddenly catches your attention, you turn to see a little girl, barely a year old, with bright eyes and a head full of messy curls, crawling determinedly towards you. She reaches you, grabbing a handful of your sundress. You smile, kneeling down to her level.
“Hey there, little one. You seem a little bit lost.”
The girl babbles happily, reaching for your sunglasses. You chuckle and gently remove them, placing them on top of your head.
A shadow falls over you. You look up to see a tall, handsome man with kind greenish eyes and sun-streaked hair... He looks slightly flustered.
“Oh god, I'm so sorry, that's my little escape artist Ava, come here to Papa munchkin.” He smiles apologetically.
Ava squeals and reaches for him. He scoops her up effortlessly, her tiny giggles filling the air.
“Don't worry, she's adorable! How old is she?” you asked.
“One year old, going on a hundred!” He winces as Ava grabs a fistful of his hair. You can't help but laugh. “Ouch, sweetie that hurts!” He says and Ava giggles.
“Looks like she has you all wrapped around her little finger.”
“Definitely.” he chuckles.
He introduces himself as Charles, you tell him your name. To your surprise, the conversation flows easily, you learn he's a single dad, the love and devotion evident in his gaze as he talks about Ava. He opens up about his complicated relationship with his ex (Ava's mother), the challenges of dating as a single parent. You listen intently, impressed by his honesty and dedication to his daughter.
“You seem to be doing a great job, Charles. And that's impressive, you know, how hard you work and try to be the best every day for her.” you smile.
Ava snuggles closer to him, burying her face in his neck.
“I manage to do a good job... It's definitely a handful, but she's worth it all.” he smiles.
A comfortable silence settles between you. You steal a glance at him, then quickly look away, cheeks warming. You sense a similar flicker of something unspoken in his eyes.
“Well, maybe I should let you get back to building sandcastles with your princess.” You say with a bit of haste.
“Actually, I was wondering... Would you maybe, I don't know, maybe... Want to grab some ice cream with us sometime? Ava loves company, and frankly, so do I.” He speaks hurriedly.
You feel a flutter in your chest. This unexpected encounter has taken a sweet turn. “I'd love to. Thanks!” you smile.
Ava lets out a delighted squeal, as if sensing the possibility of ice cream, You and Charles giggle at her reaction.
“Great! How about next Saturday? Same place? How does that sound?”
You nod. “Sounds perfect.”
He smiles, you can see how the corners of his eyes wrinkle, something very cute for you. “Perfect... Ehm, here! Write down your number and I'll write down mine.” He says as he takes out his cell phone to give it to you and you take yours out of your beach bag to hand it to him.
You wrote your number on his cell phone with the name of: "y/n the life-saver 🎀". When he finishes he gives you your cell phone back and you see that he has registered himself as: "Charles the handsome dad 😋" you can't help but laugh at the name.
“Well, then I'll write to you to keep in touch... Handsome dad.” You say with a giggle and he blushes.
Ava yawns, nuzzling deeper into his embrace.
“I think someone's getting tired.” you giggle while looking at Ava.
“She probably is. Sand and sunshine can be exhausting for little ones.” He says and then smiles a little. “This was unexpected... But so nice.” he says quietly.
“Yeah, definitely nice!” you say meeting his warm gaze.
A blush creeps up Charles' neck as he finally pulls back slightly.
“See you next Saturday then, Y/N, it was nice to meet you!”
You smile. “It was also nice to meet you both!”
He nods, a goodbye lingering in his eyes. Charles walks away, cradling a sleepy Ava in his arms, you watch them go, a warm feeling spreading through you. This chance encounter has blossomed into something promising, and as you turn towards your car, a smile lingers on your lips. The beach seems a little brighter now, filled with the promise of sunshine, ice cream, and maybe, just maybe, something more.
Suddenly, your phone buzzes in your pocket. It's a text message. You pull it out, expecting a message from a friend, but your heart skips a beat when you see the name displayed on the screen - Charles the handsome dad 😋.
Charles the handsome dad 😋: Ava just fell asleep. She kept asking for "y/n." Any chance you have a favorite ice cream flavor? Trying to win some brownie points for Saturday afternoon.
A laugh escapes your lips. He's charming, that's for sure. You quickly type a response.
y/n the life-saver 🎀: Chocolate chip cookie dough, always! And tell Ava I said goodnight. See you on Saturday cha!
You hit send and a warm feeling washes over you. This unexpected encounter has taken a delightful turn, and with a giddy anticipation for saturday's ice cream date, you turn back towards the ocean. The waves seem to whisper a promise of something exciting to come, and you can't wait to see where this newfound connection might lead.
***
The cheerful clinking of spoons against ice cream sundaes fills the air. You sit across from Charles at a brightly colored table, a giant chocolate chip cookie dough sundae melting in front of you. Ava, nestled comfortably in a high chair, digs into a kid-sized strawberry sundae with a look of pure bliss.
He chuckles “Looks like someone's enjoying their treat.”
Ava lets out a happy gurgle, a smear of red adorning her cheek. You laugh, you leaned towards her to wipe her cheek.
“She's definitely got a sweet tooth.” you say while wiping her cheek.
Charles takes a bite of his own sundae, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Just like her dad. Thanks for the recommendation, this cookie dough ice cream it's fantastic!” he smiles.
“My pleasure, I'm glad you both like it.”
Ava reaches out, grabbing a stray piece of cookie dough from your sundae. You laugh, helping her bring it to her mouth.
“Careful, little one, that's a big bite!”
Charles watches the interaction between you and Ava, a smile playing on his lips.
“You seem to have a way with kids.” He says softly while looking at the two of you with adoration.
You shrug. “I guess so, I have a younger brother, so I've had my fair share of practice.”
The conversation flows easily between bites of ice cream, you learn more about Charles' life as a single dad, the challenges and rewards that come with it, he talks about his passion for racing, a twinkle in his eyes as he describes his dream of one day competing professionally. You share your own dreams and aspirations, surprised at how comfortable you feel opening up to him.
As Ava starts to get cranky, signaling the need for a nap, you suggest taking a walk along the nearby park. Charles readily agrees.
A comfortable silence settles between you. You both steal glances at each other, the unspoken attraction hanging heavy in the air. You reach the edge of the park, the familiar beach stretching before you.
“Looks like we're back where it all began.” you blush slightly.
“It does, doesn't it? Funny how things work out.” he smiles.
He stops walking, turning to face you. Ava lets out a whimper in her sleep, prompting Charles to gently bounce her in his arms.
“This was... so nice, I mean, this sweet afternoon and last week at the beach, it's very... Unexpected, but very good.” He says quietly with a smile on his face.
You meet his gaze, your heart fluttering in your chest.
You smiled. “I also liked it! Ava's such a sweetheart, and you seem like... a good guy, a really good and nice guy.”
He smiles back, a genuine warmth radiating from his eyes.
“I, uh... I was wondering if maybe, sometime next week, you'd like to have dinner? Just the two of us, after Ava's asleep?” He says with a bit of hesitation.
Your stomach does a nervous flip-flop, but a wide smile stretches across your face.
“I'd like that very much Charles.”
A wave of relief washes over Charles. He leans forward slightly, his eyes searching yours.
“Great... In that case, how about I give you a proper goodbye this time?” He says with a bit of flirtation in his voice.
Before you can respond, he leans in further, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss is brief, sweet, and filled with unspoken promise.
Ava lets out a startled gurgle, breaking the spell. Charles pulls back with a laugh, a blush creeping up his neck.
“Looks like our little chaperone wants to get home.” he chuckles and blushes.
“Seems that way.” you giggled while blushing.
He walks you back to your car, Ava snuggled contentedly against his chest.
“Text me when you get home, so I know you made it safe. And maybe, just maybe, you can tell me what your favorite dinner is.” He says while blushing a little.
You laugh a little bit. “Don't worry, you'll be very well fed.”
He smiles, a hint of something deeper lingering in his gaze. You wave goodbye as he drives away with Ava, a warmth spreading through your chest. The unexpected encounter at the beach has blossomed into something exciting, and as you watch the sun disappear over the horizon, you can't wait to see where this new path might lead.
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angelfic · 2 months
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— I MISS YOU, I’M SORRY.
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
summary: you haven’t seen theo seen he supposedly left you to join the other side. now that he’s back and has revealed his true intentions to you, you’re finding it hard to be forgiving.
warnings: swearing, kissing, tiniest bit of angst, very unedited. not much else other than a whole load of waffle… my bad
author’s note: this is a sort of fix-it fic… kinda. yes I am very much stealing the essence (you could say) from marauders fics because I prefer writing those and yes it’s basically this drabble recycled and yes grimmauld place is still the order headquarters well into the war just don’t question my timeline and you’ll be fine ok ty enjoy xoxo
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12 Grimmauld place feels unsettling at the best of times, what with the portrait of Walburga Black hurling insults at you every time her curtain slips open and the row of shrunken house-elf heads mounted on the wall. The Order of the Phoenix holding hushed up meetings in the dining room while you and your friends are forced to stay upstairs isn’t anything new or surprising, but the last few days feel different.
Instead of Mrs Weasley telling members of the Order to whisper when you, her kids and Harry and Hermione are in the room, she flaps about ordering them to stop talking altogether. At first you think you’re imagining it when her eyes flick over to you every time, until you bring it up to Ginny and Hermione.
“You’re not imagining it,” Hermione mutters as she shuts the door of the bedroom and casts a quick Muffliato charm before settling cross legged on the bed opposite you and Ginny. “I overheard Mrs Weasley and Tonks in the kitchen this morning, talking about how the Order is arranging transport for some Death Eater spies to come back here.”
You gasp, pretending to be scandalised. “You mean you were evesdropping. That’s not very prefect-y of you.” Ginny snorts at Hermione’s indignant glare and you can’t help cracking a smile at the way her cheeks have slightly reddened. “Sorry, sorry, you know I’m kidding. But what’s that got to do with her looking at me like I’ve gone through a personal tragedy?”
“Your ex-boyfriend did leave you to go join the Death Eaters,” Ginny points out. Hermione gapes at her, but Ginny merely throws her hands up in exasperation. “Well, he did! No point beating around the bush!”
A lump rises in your throat at the mention of Theodore. Truth be told, you’ve tried not to think about what happened since the last time you spoke about him. ‘Spoke’ being a strong word since it was mostly crying and sniffling and blowing your nose into tissue after tissue in Ginny’s room at the Burrow. Mrs Weasley had made your favourite dinner that night and brought you up a hot chocolate to make you feel better. And it really had- so much so that you refused to speak about him since.
You’re more angry than you are sad now, which makes you nod at Ginny’s words. “You’re right. He’s an arsehole, there’s no point in tip-toeing around it for my sake.” Hermione frowns a little, worry clear as day on her face, but you don’t stop talking. “Besides, we’re on opposite sides and this is a war happening. Not some silly, childish break-up. He chose to be a Death Eater and if we have to fight him, so be it.”
Hermione and Ginny stay quiet for a few seconds and watch you breathe heavily. Thankfully, before either of them can speak, Harry and Ron come bursting into the room.
“They’ve only gone and brought Death Eaters into the bloody building!” Ron shakes his head.
Harry snorts at Ron’s dramatics. “Ex-Death Eaters. Apparently. Still a bit dodgy, in fairness.”
“I thought they were spies,” you say, unable to help your curiosity as you stand up. Ginny and Hermione follow you out of the room as you all peak over the bannister to try and get a glimpse of the action downstairs. Annoyingly, there only seem to be a couple of dishevelled looking Order members milling around.
“Maybe Mrs Weasley and Tonks got it mixed up, or maybe they aren’t privy to what’s going on…” Hermione frowns, deep in thought. “I don’t think anyone but Dumbledore knows what’s actually going on.”
Harry makes an irritated sound. “What’s new?”
“Oh, by the way, Mum sent us up to get you lot for dinner,” Ron says absentmindedly as he tries to get a good look over your shoulder at whatever is happening in the hall downstairs. “Mind you, that was before all the Death Eater business so she’ll probably send us right back up.”
The five of you quickly shuffle downstairs to get to the dining room and while your stomach is growling loud enough to forget any thoughts of Order business, Ron and Harry linger in the hall a little in an attempt to get some answers. You don’t doubt Harry will get some, being the Chosen One and all.
You nudge and elbow your way into the dining room where you’re happily surprised to see a messy-haired Tonks yawning over a bowl of soup. She smiles sleepily when she spots the three of you.
“Hi, girls,” she mumbles through a yawn. “Merlin, I’m exhausted. I keep falling asleep in my soup. Good thing it’s mushroom.” She points to her newly platinum blonde hair that matches the contents of her bowl.
“Why’re you so tired?” Hermione asks as she ladles some soup into bowls for you, Ginny and herself. Her voice is quiet as not to attract attention from Mrs Weasley with her questioning. “Is it to do with tonight’s, uh, Order business?”
“Yep.”
Tonks looks as though she’s about to drift off and Ginny seems to jump at the opportunity to gather information.
“So, what are their names?” She gets straight to the point, glaring at you when you choke on your soup a little, not expecting her to be so blunt.
You and Hermione stop eating and wait with bated breath for Tonks to refuse to answer. She merely yawns again, before talking. “You’ll meet them soon enough.”
“Meet them?” you ask, unable to help yourself. “Aren’t they… uh, you know… dangerous?”
“Dumbledore doesn’t seem to think so,” Tonks says, shrugging. You grow a little frustrated at this, since Dumbledore isn’t exactly known for having straightforward plans. While you know his intentions are good, someone he thinks is safe could very well be the opposite. While you ponder this, Tonks’ next words quickly turn your irritation into shock. “The others were understandably quite wary, what with one of them being You-Know-Who’s son and everything, but…”
You feel a ringing in your ear and every word coming from Tonks may as well be directed to her mushroom soup because you aren’t listening anymore. You-Know-Who’s son. You haven’t seen Mattheo since term ended, and even then it was only from a distance. You hadn’t spoken to him since Theo revealed his Dark Mark to you and you’d since avoided his entire friend group like the plague. If Mattheo is in the building, you can only hope and pray that Theodore isn’t with him.
Vaguely aware of someone shaking you by the shoulder, you snap out of your thoughts. “Who else is with Mattheo?” you ask Tonks, your voice sounding rough to your own ears. She blinks through her sleepiness, slightly startled awake by your unwavering eye contact. “Voldemort’s son. Who’s with him? What do they look like?”
You’re so focused on getting an answer from Tonks, and Hermione and Ginny are clearly on the same page as you now since they’re both silent and waiting for a response, that none of you notice Mrs Weasley entering the dining room.
“Tonks, is he blonde or-?”
“Enough!” Mrs Weasley interrupts you hastily, making everyone jump. She sounds panicked, but the look she throws Tonks is stern, like a warning to keep silent. When she turns back to you however, her eyes soften and her voice is gentle, albeit with a hint of annoyance. “I asked Dumbledore not to bring them here while everyone was awake. I didn’t want you all upset again, dear. Look, you can have your dinner upstairs, I’ll bring it up to you!”
You’re grateful for her concern, but it’s a little hard to feel anything other than the pit in your stomach since she’s just confirmed what you were dreading.
Ginny speaks up first, angry on your behalf. “Mum, she deserves to know if that awful git is in the same house as her! I say she ought to go and deck him in the face.”
“Ginny!” Hermione looks at her in exasperation as Mrs Weasley gasps, horrified. “That sort of attitude isn’t going to help anyone.”
“You’re right,” you mumble, getting up from your seat.
Hermione lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”
“I should go and deck him in the face.”
Hermione’s sputtering falls to deaf ears as you abruptly leave your seat to go out into the hall, the scraping of chairs behind you indicating that everyone is following closely.
Realistically, you have no plans to actually hit Theodore. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever successfully landed a punch before in your life. This doesn’t stop you charging into the hallway and elbowing your way through the huddle of Order members to get to the door they seem to be crowded around.
Kingsley Shacklebolt is the last of them to stumble out of your way, clearly too surprised by your sudden presence to continue guarding the door. You raise a shaky hand to the doorknob and hesitate for a second, suddenly nervous. Kingsley takes this moment to snap out of his surprise and redirects his attentions to what you’re about to do next.
“My dear, I’m afraid I can’t allow you to-”
“Kingsley, do you have any idea why I’m standing here?” you say curtly, cutting him off.
He throws a quick glance at Mrs Weasley, almost as if it’s by reflex. Clearly she’s told more people than Dumbledore to keep word of Theodore far from you. “I, uhm, I may have heard a thing or two…”
“Right, so are you going to stop me entering this room, then?” you ask boldly. Your voice catches slightly on the end of your sentence and Kingsley falters a little.
“Well, really I should-“ he begins, eyes darting to your own slightly teary ones. He sighs. “No, I’m not. Just try not to hex the boy.”
He steps out of your way and you finally barge into room, the door swinging open as you stay lingering near the entrance. The room is just as dingy as the rest of the house, lit up by some candles dotted around the room
You first see Professor McGonagall getting up abruptly from her chair where she was previously sat next to a standing Dumbledore. He merely peers at you over his half moon spectacles and raises his eyebrows.
You suddenly feel a little silly, and rude for barging in like that. “Sorry, Professor Dumbledore, I-“
You stop talking when see movement on the other side of the room from the corner of your eye. Just as Tonks had said, Mattheo Riddle, son of Lord Voldemort is standing right there, flanked by Lorenzo Berkshire… and Theodore. Your mouth goes dry.
As soon as you catch his eye, he smiles broadly at you. You don’t return the gesture, taking his appearance in instead. He’s thinner than the last time you saw him. No visible injuries, but he’s definitely seen better days. His dirty blonde hair is overgrown and unruly as it falls into his eyes which, despite brightening up at your presence, are tired.
You keep your expression as impassive as you can, slightly angry with yourself at the twinge of concern you feel. It was all well and good interrupting whatever meeting was happening in here before you came in, but now that you’re here… you have no idea what to do or say.
Theo’s smile falters when you continue to stand there with clenched fists and a stony face and you’re tempted to just run out of the room when Dumbledore clears his throat.
“Well,” your Headmaster says pleasantly, as though you were all engaged in polite conversation rather than a strained silence. “This reunion was certainly a little earlier than anticipated, but I suppose that can’t be helped. I think we ought to give Mr Nott and Miss Y/L/N a moment alone.”
“Uh, can’t we stay in here too?” Lorenzo asks with a nervous chuckle, eyes darting to the watchful crowd standing right outside the door. You can’t blame him for wary, being an ex-Death Eater in a house full of Order members.
Mattheo nods, throwing an arm around Theodore’s shoulder, ignoring the glare he receives. “Yeah. These two won’t mind a bit of company. Right?” he asks you cheerfully. You blink at him.
“Relax, Berkshire,” Professor McGonagall says, rolling her eyes at the way Lorenzo has inched further into the room. She snaps her fingers to get them moving out the door. “Nobody is going to hex you, you silly boy.”
“Can’t say the same for Theo,” Mattheo mutters as he walks past you and follows everyone out, shutting the door.
You don’t really have any choice but to look at Theo now. He tries a smile again, despite the fact you’re not returning it and he takes a step towards you.
You immediately step back.
Theo flinches ever so slightly, his eyes unable to hide that he’s hurt.
Good, you think viciously.
Sighing, he looks at you imploringly like he wants to say something, but can’t find the words. “You’re angry with me,” he settles on muttering, his voice quiet in the dark room.
You let out a derisive laugh. “Angry? You worked that out, huh? Death-Eater’s didn’t completely addle your brain then, did they?”
“Darling, please let me explain,” Theo pleads, taking another few steps towards you.
Rather than stepping back, you whip out your wand and point it right at him. He doesn’t back away, merely raising his hands in surrender and arching an eyebrow as if to ask you if you’re serious. This angers you further.
“Do not call me darling,” you hiss, raising your wand further. Theo doesn’t react, as though he knows you’d never actually use magic to hurt him. Your hand trembles with the weight of the realisation that no, you wouldn’t hurt him. That you’ve actually been more worried that becoming a Death Eater would get him hurt than him betraying you. He left you with nothing but a cold goodbye and you still can’t help caring.
Feeling stupid, and a little bit pathetic, you drop your hand to your side and allow him to continue standing before you as he lowers his hands. You grit your teeth and cross your arms. “Explain.”
Theo lets out a relieved breath. “I never wanted to leave you,” he says, and you immediately roll your eyes. “I- no, look at me. I didn’t.”
“That doesn’t explain the fact that you did,” you deadpan, turning away to leave. Theo quickly reaches out to grasp both of your arms and gently turns you towards him.
You stiffen at the first physical contact you’ve had with him in months, your body betraying you and erupting goosebumps all over your arms in spite of your anger.
“I lied about it to protect you,” he whispers, peering at you through the strands of hair that are stubbornly falling into his eyes from weeks of neglect. Theo looks slightly pained and you recognise his expression to mean that he’s desperately trying to phrase his next words correctly. His eyes flick over to your right arm. No. To his left wrist, where you know his Dark Mark to be. “You can ask Dumbledore if you don’t believe me… Me and the others only ever took the Mark so we’d be able to spy on The D- on him.”
The relief hits you like a freight train and lightens your heavy chest all in one go. You hadn’t just felt betrayed by your boyfriend leaving you all those months ago. You had felt dread at the possibility of him joining a Pureblood supremacist’s cult. Dread at the idea that the views he’d shared with you were all lies and that he was a completely difference person to the one you loved.
Despite the relief, the sting of the breakup still lingers with you.
“That meant you had to be a prick when you left me?” you ask, voice shaking against your will. His eyes soften.
“Yes,” he says weakly. “How else could I have left you without worrying that… that he could use you against me if he found me out? I never wanted to take the Mark and it killed me when I saw the look on your face.”
Your scowl, trying your best to distract Theodore from the fact that your vision has gone blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes. By the look on his face, you doubt you’re doing a very good job. “Do you really think I would have cared about a fucking tattoo, if you had just told me the truth?”
“No, I know,” Theo sighs, absentmindedly drawing closer to you. “I’ll explain anything you want, but the work we did was too close to The Dark Lord to risk telling anyone about at the time. Dumbledore made me, Mattheo and Enzo swear not to say anything. It was safer that way.”
“Did you make an Unbreakable Vow?” you whisper, stiller than ever.
Theo furrows his brows. “No, but-”
You pull away from him abruptly and back away to the door, ignoring the way his hands reach out in an attempt to hold your arms again. “Then I hope the information you got for Dumbledore was worth it.”
You don’t look back at him, nor do you check to see if anyone is in the hallway as you run upstairs and into your room, slamming the door shut as you lean against it, breathing heavily. You stay there for a while, reeling from your anger and irritation at the fact you still have to stay in this bloody house while Theodore’s in it.
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The next few days are confusing to say the least. Theo doesn’t seem to have any plans to avoid you, but he respects your space.
Sort of.
He isn’t badgering you every second of the day, but somehow whichever room you’re in, he finds himself in as well. Whenever you try and reach for something, even if it’s not on a particularly high shelf, or particularly far away, Theo beats you to it, ever the gentleman.
It’s starting to unnerve you a little.
One particular afternoon, you walk into the kitchen hoping to make a cup of tea in peace. At the table sits Theo, a cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. When he spots you, he sits up straighter and you dawdle stupidly at the entrance.
Before you can snap out of it and remember what you came in here for, Theo gets up and walks over to the mugs. “Tea?” he asks politely, and, you think, a little hopefully.
“Will you make it and let me drink it alone?” you ask bluntly.
“I’ll make it and sit with you in silence,” he offers, undeterred despite your coldness.
Narrowing your eyes, you glance at the clock and sigh. It’s too early in the morning to put off having your tea, so you allow it. “Fine. Milk and-”
“Two sugars,” he cuts you off with an annoyingly smug smile. “I remember.”
You poke your cheek with your tongue, but stay silent as he turns his attentions to the kettle. Theo’s face quickly falls when he realises he has no idea how to use it. Your impassive expression almost cracks and you have to bite back a laugh as he examines the thing. Walking over to the counter, you drag the kettle so that it’s closer to you. And so you don’t have to be as close to Theo, but that’s besides the point.
“It’s already filled with water, you just need to flip the switch so it starts boiling,” you explain, pointing to the little part. Theo places his cigarette in between his lips as he furrows his brows, clearly skeptical of the muggle contraption. You suppose you can’t blame him since you, Hermione and Harry have had to explain the kettle to countless members of the Order since it was introduced to the house a few months ago.
You still don’t know where the plug socket is and considering the fact that Grimmauld Place has never inhabited muggles, you aren’t going to bother asking.
When Theo flicks the switch and sees the light turn red, a satisfied smile graces his lips where the cigarette still hangs. You look away from his mouth very quickly and go to sit down. Unable to leave without making things awkward, you decide the only thing to do is watch Theo make two cups of tea. He doesn’t need instruction since he knows exactly how you like it, but something catches in your throat when he uses a green mug. Your favourite colour.
The only sound in the kitchen is the clink of the spoon swirling in the cups and Theo soon brings both cups over with an incredibly concentrated frown to make sure there’s no spillages as he sets one down on the table. The other he hands to you himself and you have to clench your jaw when you grab it, your own hands brushing against his, which he doesn’t seem to be in a rush to move away.
“Thanks,” you mutter, trying to use the burning heat of the mug against your skin to distract from the fact that you have tingles.
“S’alright,” he replies, a barely restrained grin on his face. You narrow your eyes at him over the rim of the mug as you sip your tea.
Damn, you think to yourself. Why is it always so good when he makes it?
The two of you settle into a surprisingly comfortable silence as you drink your tea and he smokes. The puffs are very carefully directed away from you, but you can’t help wrinkling your nose out of habit. Back when you were still together, you were always firm about him cutting down and now you have to restrain yourself from reaching over and plucking the cigarette out of his lips to throw it away like you used to do with ease. He never objected.
Theo notices your looks all the same, and it’s almost like he’s reading your thoughts. He raises a brow, almost daring you to remove the cigarette yourself. “You want me to stop?”
“I don’t care,” you say in an attempt to sound nonchalant. Shrugging, you try your hardest not to react to his obvious bait, but it’s like a bloody reflex. “It’s your lungs on the line, not mine. If you want to lose five years off your life, then by all means, go ahead. I really couldn’t care-”
“As you wish,” he interrupts you, grinning like an idiot again. The next thing you know, he’s putting out the cigarette, and sipping his tea instead. He doesn’t even like tea.
“I didn’t say you had to stop,” you grumble, slightly pleased nonetheless.
He merely hums, taking a gulp of his tea. You accidentally let out a snort of laughter when he grimaces at the taste. Theo’s lips quirk up in amusement when you laugh, unrestrained and it’s only when you catch him staring at you that you quickly stop.
The smug expression on his face quickly returns as though he knows you’re finding it hard to be fully angry at him.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you snap, drawing your knees up on your chair towards your chin. “You look stupid. And your hair is too long.”
Theo huffs out a surprised laugh. “My hair is too long?” he asks incredulously, reaching up to tug a piece down so it reaches the bottom of his nose. “Hm, you’re right. You cut it pretty good that one time. Would you do it again for me?”
“Mrs Weasley is better at it,” you say, chin jutting out stubbornly. “I’m sure she’d be delighted if you just ask.”
“The way she looks at me, I’d be lucky to get away with my head still attached to my body,” he drawls, wholly unimpressed by your suggestion. “Why can’t you do it?”
“Because I’m not done being angry with you yet,” you reply simply, draining the contents of your mug. “Trust me when I say you don’t want me anywhere near your head with a pair of scissors either.”
Theo nods slowly, a smile gracing his lips— strange, since you just threatened physical violence. “So, what I’m hearing is that you’re not going to be angry with me forever.”
“I- Well, I didn’t mean-” you stutter pointlessly, cutting yourself off with a sigh. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early for this, leave me alone.”
“That was the first cigarette I’ve had since before I left,” Theo says quietly, searching your face for a reaction, almost nervously.
You aren’t quite sure how to respond to this random piece of information and you find yourself floundering. “Uhm. Okay, good. That’s… Yeah, that’s great for you and your lungs, well done. Saves money too. They were actually, uh, saying on the news the other day that the average amount people spend on-”
“Darling, as much as I appreciate it, that’s not what I’m getting at,” he interrupts, the ghost of a smirk at his lips. You scowl at him for letting you go on for so long and motion for him to get to the bloody point. “Every time I brought a cigarette to my lips, I remembered you weren’t going to be there to nag me about it. It just feels pointless now.”
You stare at him. “Nice to know that my nagging was what you remembered me by.”
“That’s not-” Theo cuts himself off with a laugh that sounds halfway to a groan. “Merlin, you’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”
You open your mouth to respond, but before you can get a word out, Harry walks in which you find odd considering it’s so early in the morning and him and Ron are usually only out of bed when Mrs Weasley yells them down for breakfast.
“Morning,” he says through a yawn. The greeting is directed at you, but he sends an expectant look at Theo right after. “Time to leave, Nott.
“Leave for where?” you ask before you can help yourself. You realise with a start that Harry and Theo are dressed and ready while you’re still in your pyjamas. “Where do you have to go?”
“Horcrux hunting,” Harry says flippantly, as though he’s just announced he’s going fishing. Hermione had filled you in on the information Theo and the others had ascertained from their time with Voldemort, but you didn’t even consider them or Harry would actually be going with the Order to find them. “Nott and the others know more than we do, so they’re coming with.”
You level a look at Theo, who seems to be pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. “Thanks for sharing that tiny tidbit of information, by the way,” you mutter sourly.
He winces, getting up slowly from his chair. “It, uh, didn’t seem that important. It’s only a quick little task anyway. We’ll be back before you know it.”
“I’m not stupid,” you scoff, standing up so you can attempt to look a little more dignified as you confront Theo. Harry, on the other hand, looks as though he regrets his decision to enter the kitchen in the first place. Despite this, you hadn’t missed the way he furrowed his brows when Theo spoke. “Even if Harry wasn’t looking at you like you were speaking gibberish, I would know that you’re lying. It’s a Horcrux you’re leaving to get. Not the weekly food shop.”
Harry snickers at this, though quickly turns it into a cough when Theo sends him a withering glare. Sighing, you decide to ignore him for the moment and turn to Harry instead
“Be safe,” you say, gentler than before. “And don’t be a hero, just try and get out of there safely.”
“Pfft,” Harry waves you off, a sarcastic tone entering his voice. “When have you known me to do that?”
You roll your eyes, cracking a smile as he walks away, supposedly to find the rest of the group.
“Don’t I get a ‘be safe’ as well?” Theo tries for a casual, joking voice. A hint of irritation seeps through it though. You shift on your feet a little awkwardly, slightly flustered at his obvious jealousy.
“Uhm, okay. Bye,” you say stiffly, fiddling with the loose string of your cardigan sleeve so you have something to do with your hands other than ball them up at your sides. Theo seems to be satisfied with the curt response, or more likely your lack of insults, and he nods, turning away to leave. As you watch him walk away, a familiar sense of anxiety bubbles up in your stomach and you blurt out the only thing you can think of. “Don’t die!”
He slowly turns around, very clearly holding back a grin. You think you might thump the boy. “Will you forgive me if I come back alive?”
“Well,” you huff, crossing your arms. As petty as it may be, you’ve always found it hard to loosen a grudge. You settle for a shrug instead. “Come back alive first and then I’ll see.”
Theo takes two steps forward and closes the short distance that was previously allowing you to keep a cool- well, cool-ish, head. He keeps both arms behind his back, however, as he dips his head down slightly.
“My sweet, stubborn girl,” Theo says in a low voice. His proximity flounders you for a moment and you don’t even protest that no, you’re not his anything. The way your breathing turns shallow would be contradicting that greatly though. “I’ll try my best. And if I don’t come back alive, I promise you can yell at my ghost.”
You scowl, and this time you actually do thump him on the arm. “You’re not funny, you idiot. Now, go. I can already hear Mattheo irritating the patience out of Harry.”
Theo gives you a little two-fingered salute and a wink before he walks away again, leaving you alone with a funny feeling in settling in your stomach.
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You aren’t the only one who sits anxiously in the living room waiting for the group to return with the infamous Horcrux. Ron has eaten his way through three bowls of cereal and rapidly makes a start on his fourth while Hermione tries to distract herself with reading a book that she hasn’t noticed is upside down.
After another hour goes by, Ginny, who was previously pacing up and down the stairs, sighs and turns Hermione’s book the right way up which startles her, causing her to give up altogether.
You sit cross-legged and completely still, other than switching your legs every time one of them goes numb. Eventually, you get so sick of watching Mrs Weasley mop over the same spot on the floor for the fifth time that you jump up from your seat, causing her to start and knock over the bucket of dirty mop water all over the floor.
“Oh, dear,” she mutters, waving her wand and siphoning all the water up in a second.
“Sorry, Mrs Weasley,” you say, wincing. “I’m just a little stressed since it’s been ages already-”
You get cut off by Hermione gasping at the sound of the front door opening along with voices. She grips your arm tightly. “They’re back!”
Barely registering the pain of her nails digging into the skin of your arm, you waste no time in running into the hall with the others to greet everyone at the door. You can’t help the relieved smile on your face when you do a quick head count and find everyone present.
As you get closer, you see how exhausted they look. Not to mention the fact they’re dripping water all over the rug. Harry stands at the front of the group looking like he might collapse if he stands any longer and Hermione and Ron pick up on this as they rush over to help him inside.
As they stumble him across the hall, you stop craning your neck as Theo comes into view. The relief you previously felt leaves you faster than your body knows how to deal with and you have to force yourself to breathe when you take in the state of him.
At first glance he doesn’t look particularly worse than the rest. They all have a vaguely haunted look in their eyes along with a sickly pallor like they haven’t seen the sun in days.
But the way Mattheo and Lorenzo are holding him up brings attention to the fact that all of his weight is being put on one leg. The other, to your horror, has a deep, bloody gash trailing down his thigh and onto his calf. The sight of blood steadily dripping onto the floor below has you frozen, almost mesmerised in a terrible way, and it’s not until Dumbledore speaks that you snap out of it and to attention.
“Miss Y/L/N, if you could please fetch Madam Pomfrey for me,” Dumbledore asks, his voice a lot calmer than you feel. You nod, turning away quickly before Theo can see the panic which is probably clear as day on your face.
It takes a scary second to find Madam Pomfrey, but as soon as you do, she gets down to business preparing her supplies in the living room which is as far as Theo seems to be able to make it.
He lays on the sofa, breathing shallowly as Madam Pomfrey crouches down beside him to begin assessing the wound. Peering at it closely, she looks up at Dumbledore sharply. “Inferi?”
“I’m afraid so,” he replies solemnly and you let out a choked sort of whimper.
“Merlin,” Ron whispers, looking like he might be sick. Whether that’s because Madam Pomfrey is cleaning Theo’s leg, or because of the mention of Inferi, you aren’t sure. “What the hell were you guys doing?”
“All will be explained, Mr Weasley,” Dumbledore reassures him, looking over his spectacles. “However, I must insist that for now we allow dear Madam Pomfrey to tend to Mr Nott’s injuries.”
“Will you be able to heal him?” Mattheo asks, swallowing hard. The concern in his voice for his best friend has your heart clenching and you look to Madam Pomfrey just as earnestly for an answer.
“Yes, I dare say I can,” Madam Pomfrey says grimly, but she pulls out a couple little bottle of potions from her bag with a frown. “That doesn’t mean it won’t be extremely painful, unfortunately.”
“Can’t imagine what pain feels like,” Theo mumbles, shifting his position on the sofa slightly and wincing. His face goes whiter than before and he shuts his eyes tightly from the pain, but he still manages to talk, however hard it may be. “Not like I’ve just had Inferi mistaking my leg for their lunch.”
“No talking and no moving,” Madam Pomfrey instructs Theo, sending him a stern glare.
“Sorry-”
“Shhh!” you hiss, giving him a glare of your own. Theo’s eyes flutter open slightly and his lips quirk up when he sees you leaning over him as close as you can get without Madam Pomfrey shooing you away.
His smile quickly drops when Madam Pomfrey pours some purple liquid into the open wound, causing it to hiss and smoke. The groan that leaves Theo has you holding your breath and you fight the urge to shut your eyes and turn away.
“Merlin, I can’t watch,” Lorenzo gags, his skin turning even sicklier than before. Turning away, he holds onto Mattheo’s shoulder to steady himself, the latter looking more interested than anything as he peers at Theo’s sizzling cut. Lorenzo shakes his head and holds a hand over his mouth every time he can hear Madam Pomfrey pouring more of the potion. “Oh, God, that’s disgusting.”
“Mr Berkshire, if you are unable to watch, then don’t,” Madam Pomfrey snaps, screwing the bottle shut and grabbing another one. She waves her hand in an impatient shooing motion. “In fact, everyone out. Now! This isn’t a Quidditch match, for heaven’s sake!”
Dumbledore starts filing everyone out and you consider staying for a minute but Madam Pomfrey’s raised eyebrows have you hurtling out of the room with everyone else. Theo starts to say something, but a drop of something else makes him grit his teeth and the green smoke produced by the potion follows you out the door.
The next hour or so is filled with Harry, Mattheo and Lorenzo being fussed over by Mrs Weasley, who insists on them going up to bed once they’ve cleaned up and changed into dry clothing. Unfortunately for the rest of you, this means you won’t be getting an update any time soon. Dumbledore is, as always these days, nowhere to be seen.
“I wonder if they found the Horcrux,” you say under your breath to Hermione as she anxiously taps her foot against the kitchen floor.
“They did,” she says grimly, glancing impatiently at the clock. She has her thinking face on, brows furrowed and gaze distant. “It was in a cave in the middle of nowhere. Harry quickly told me before Mrs Weasley sent them off. I wonder when they’ll wake up though… They didn’t look too happy, and I have a feeling it wasn’t all to do with Nott.”
You nod slowly, a weight lifting off your chest despite the last part. If, after all this, they hadn’t retrieved the Horcrux, you think you’d probably have gone to the bloody cave yourself.
“Theodore’s resting now, anyway,” Hermione adds, giving you a quick glance as though she’s waiting for a reaction. You keep your face as impassive as you can, attempting a casual nod. “Madam Pomfrey says he’s healing nicely and his leg will be fine. It’ll just be a bit sore for a few days. I’m sure he’s awake if you want to go see him.”
“I might,” you mumble, shrugging. You try to sound flippant, but the urge to clamber out of your seat probably shows because Hermione rolls her eyes at you.
“Oh, why don’t you just put him out of his misery?” she asks, her words coming out at the speed of light, like she’s been wanting to say it for a while. You blink at her in shock. Sighing, she leans over the table and her tone becomes gentle. “I know he lied to you, and you should be angry with him for that! But… well, it’s been a really awkward few days with him asking us where you are every second of the day. And, technically, he was never really a Death Eater, he was helping our side!”
Hermione takes a deep breath and exhales, slumping back in her seat as she waits for your reaction. You try not to laugh. “How long have you been holding that one in?”
“Since the second he turned up here,” she says, sagely. “Now, don’t change the subject! Go and see him. Go on, off you go!”
You stand up, swiftly dodging Hermione’s flapping hands to try and rush you out the door. “Okay, I’m going. It’s probably about time anyway,” you grumble, a fond smile creeping up on you nonetheless.
Looking satisfied, Hermione stops trying to usher you out and you make your way over to the living room again. The door is open and you sigh with relief when you notice the room is empty, bar Theo who’s in the same position as he was the last time you saw him. His eyes are shut and you wonder if he’s sleeping until you step on a creaky floorboard and he cracks one eye open.
“Hey,” you say quietly, tip-toeing into the room to perch on the coffee table adjacent to the sofa. “Did I wake you?”
“Nah,” Theo replies, moving to sit up as much as he can. You suspect he’d have the same answer even if he was asleep. He looks a lot more awake than he did before and you feel your chest squeeze tightly when you realise how glad you are. Theo seems to notice this and he reaches over to hold one of your hands, detaching it from the way you grasp them both together. “I promised you I’d come back alive, didn’t I?”
You snort, shaking your head at his ability to be so chipper. “Alive and dripping blood all over the carpet. You know if Kreacher finds out it was you, he’ll murder you in your sleep, right?”
“It doesn’t count if I die now,” Theo protests, frowning as if you’re talking about a serious possibility and not joking. “Deal was you’d forgive me if I came back alive after finding the Horcrux, remember?”
“Hm,” you hum, pretending to think deeply about it as he rubs circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. It causes you to momentarily lose your focus. “What I remember saying is that I would think about it.”
Theo shakes his head, a look of mock concern overtaking his features. “I think the stress of my injury has gotten to your memory… What I remember is you vowing to forgive me the moment I stepped foot in this place.”
“I think Madam Pomfrey’s painkillers are getting to you,” you say drily, moving to kneel on the floor next to him.
“She didn’t use any,” Theo grumbles, looking mournfully at the bandages on his leg. “She’s really sadistic, I’m telling you.”
You laugh, ducking your head so you aren’t flustered by the way Theo’s eyes focus on your smile with a grin of his own.
“You know what she told me would help with the pain?” Theo asks quietly, his enviously long eyelashes fanning over his cheekbones as he looks down at you, almost nervously.
“Let me guess,” you say, sitting up so the distance between your faces is much shorter now. “A kiss to make it all better?”
“Healer’s orders,” he says, shrugging. His breathing quickens when you don’t move away and he swallows hard, eyes dropping lower to your mouth when you bite your lip to stop from cracking a smile. “I’m not saying you have to, but if you’re okay with going directly against her orders, then-”
You cut him off by pressing a lingering kiss to his lips and he inhales sharply, unmoving for a split second before parting his lips and deepening the kiss. Theo’s hands move to your waist where he uses his remaining strength to hoist you up onto the sofa next him, one of your legs thrown over his waist as you half-straddle him.
You gasp into his mouth when he nips at your bottom lip and the sound he makes in the back of his throat has your cheeks warming up and you kiss him harder. The fact it’s been so long since you’ve even been near him has you both kissing for what feels like hours and you only pull away when you need to breathe and you’re worried you’re leaning on Theo’s leg.
Pulling away, you scan Theo’s face and pause for a second to take in his beautiful features. His eyes are blown wide like he can’t believe he’s here with you, kissing you. A warm feeling starting in your stomach spreads all the way down to the tips of your fingers as he looks at you.
“Any other very important requests from the Healer?” you ask breathlessly, feeling a shiver run down your spine where Theo lightly skims his fingers. A dangerous smile overtakes his face and his lips, pink and swollen from kissing you, curve up, causing you to narrow your eyes at him.
“I think she mentioned something about a sponge bath?”
You whack his arm and he yelps, grabbing your wrist to stop you assaulting him further. “Hey, I’m an injured patient!”
“Your leg is injured, not your arm.”
“It is now,” he says, pouting as he rubs dramatically at his bicep where you lightly thumped him. He grumbles when you roll your eyes and press another kiss to his lips to get him to stop pouting. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“Hm,” you hum, settling your face in his chest and sighing at the warmth of his arms, feeling him smile against your forehead where he kisses you.
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© angelfic 2023.
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fairycheol · 3 months
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Sunday Morning
luke castellan x apollo!fem!reader
cw: pure fluff, kissing, minor injury, a little bit of angst
Everyone at Camp Half-Blood knew how good you were at your job as head counselor for the Apollo cabin. You were strong and agile, and had a great hand in archery, healing, singing and dancing. You were everything an Apollo kid needed to be.
Apollo himself took pride in that. Sending you arrows crafted by Artemis and even requesting Hephaestus make a gold bow just for you. His favorite daughter.
Everyone at camp also knew you as the girl who had stolen Luke Castellan’s heart. The two of you arrived at camp only a day apart, and despite being claimed by Apollo two weeks into your stay at the Hermes cabin, you were able to form a bond with the boy. A bond surely impossible to break. Right?
This Sunday morning was no different then any other day, the sun was up earlier than usual and in true Apollo kid fashion you followed with it. As a camp counselor it was your duty to take on the heavier jobs in camp. Hunting for food with some of the Artemis girls, gathering herbs with the Demeter cabin and other things.
Today’s chores involved restocking the infirmary, Capture the Flag was approaching and knowing Clarisse La Rue there was sure to be a few kids walking in with narly bruises after.
“What’s up Sunshine?” Turning around to the sound of a deep voice from the infirmary entrance you see Luke. His hair is messy and his shirt is inside out. Unlike the other cabins at camp, the Apollo kids don’t get the luxury of sleeping in late.
“Hey Curls you’re up bright and early,”
“Yeah well, Mr.D said I could help you with restocking the infirmary and I won’t pass up an opportunity to spend some time with you.” By this point Luke has walked forward so you stand toe to toe with him. Wrapping your arms around his neck you give him a quick kiss on the lips,
“Well that’s awfully sweet of you,” Luke leans in for another kiss but is stopped by your pointer finger being pushed against his lips
“But! you should probably fix your shirt. It’s inside out and I don’t want you to come mopping to me when Chris makes fun of you for it.” With a pat to his cheek you leave the infirmary closing the door behind you.
-
When Luke finally joins you outside his hair has been tidied and his shirt has been fixed so you grab his hand and begin to head for the forest.
The two of you spend the next two or so hours in pure harmony and bliss. Throwing strawberries at one another and stealing a few kisses.
Nothing could this moment, except maybe the raging storm that was soon approaching in the form of a 12 year old boy.
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sereneabyyss · 4 months
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Ouija Board At Bat Gas (Dead On Main)
Bat Gas was an unfortunate little, dingy, abandoned gas station situated just outside of Crime Alley in an area where it couldn't be said to be part of The Alley, but was close enough that anyone not from there would never dare to fill up their tanks there in fear of getting mugged and none of the residents of Crime Alley ever bothered filling their tanks, if the car they were using ran out, most just simply jumped at the opportunity to steal another. Safe to say, the gas station hadn't lasted long in the business world.
Thus, it sat there, vines overgrowing the concrete flooring and winding up the empty fuel pumps. Like all abandoned things in Gotham, stories of ghosts haunting and wails of grief filled any conversation about Bat Gas. Many of the street kids liked to make dares out of venturing into the den and going so far as to touch one of the pumps. Risks of rubber bound vipers striking out, possessed by a vengeful spirit, only seemed to fill them with determination to complete the dares of their friends.
Perhaps those stories were what brought Jason Todd out at bat gas on December 25th, a Ouija Board in hand. The original plans to spend the holidays at the Wayne Manor had been scrapped with the raging of pits and glow of green eyes leaving every other member of his family walking on tip toes around him. Normally that would mean ditching Jason Todd for the comfort of Red Hood, except there were no issues in Crime Alley for Hood to take care of. Every bastard seemed to have scampered into hiding in time for the New Year. So, he was left as he was, a lost Jason Todd just looking for some way to ignore the mess of his life on Christmas Day.
So. He was going to use a Ouija Board to see if Bat Gas was actually haunted. What could he lose? His dignity if anyone stumbled upon him? He forsook that years ago.
Walking onto the cracked concrete, it was like an icy wave of contentment washed over him. Any lingering Pit Rage simmered beneath the surface before mellowing out completely. The knots in his chest unwrapped themselves and all that seemed left within him was a feeling of light-weightiness. Like the feeling when he was grappling between buildings and he was falling falling falling until the hook's line tightened and he was flying back up. He wasn't sure he had felt this way since the day he awoke half alive half monster.
(There was definitely something dead here. It was just so familiar. He would never be able to explain the feeling, but it was as if he was bathing in less angry Lazarus Pits.)
Danny perked up as the presence of a halfa (liminal? halfa? he couldn't tell exactly, something seemed off with both descriptions, but halfa was definitely the closest between them) entered the neat little gas station he had decided to make his temporary haunt.
He had decided to haunt the abandoned Bat Gas he had heard others talking about during Christmas, not wanting to deal with questions on why he didn't celebrate. (Seriously, after all the arguments every year and that one time with the possessed candy cane, he had given up any sort of Christmas Spirit he may have had before.) After visiting Mars last year on Christmas Day, he family had given up all hope of trying to get in contact with him for the entire day. So, he knew he would be free to haunt the cool looking gas station with no one hunting him down and trying to stick him in front of a tree with too many blinking lights and gaudy paper wrapping unnecessary trinkets he'll lose between his ribs after like three days.
But! There was a halfa entering his new haunt! And they were maybe ill! He had to see what that was about!
Peeking over the roof he was situated on, he watched as someone continued walking, something weird and rectangular looking in their arms. Tilting his head to the side, he slowly floated down, staying invisible as he took a peak at the stranger.
His eyes narrowed in on the rectangle object in the halfas arms. They placed it on the concrete, giving Danny room to finally look and- ohmygodwasthataouijaboard?! HE WAS GETTING OUIJA BOARDED! HE WAS SO GOING TO SHOVE THIS IN SKULKER'S FACE THE NEXT TIME THEY FOUGHT! THIS WAS EONS WORTH OF BRAGGING RIGHTS! HE WAS GETTING OUIJA BOARDED!
Silently clearing his throat, he sat in front of the halfa, allowing him to get a good look and... fuck, he was hot. Like, thighs that could absolutely crush a watermelon hot. Hair wind swept back with a little white etched into the front hot. A boyish, smugish, hottish face that just screamed danger hot. Hot enough this man could probably melt his ghost ice hot. Did Danny mention he was hot?
Maybe if his Christmases were always spent getting Ouija boarded by incredibly hot maybe halfas he'd have more Christmas Spirit. Santa, he knows you're real, send him this halfa again next Christmas and maybe he'll actually respect you.
The new halfa furrowed his eyebrows as he concentrated setting up the Ouija board properly and Danny almost fainted from how hot he was. Patting his cheeks sharply, he concentrated on the fact that he was getting to do his first Ouija Board! He had to look cool! He had to be smooth! This halfa was hot and Danny couldn't blow it!
"Oh Ghost who haunts this gas station, can you hear my voice?" The halfa called out and Danny had to hold himself together from freaking out over the man's voice. It was just perfect. It wasn't too harsh nor did it have the silken smooth feeling most liars had. It was gruff but in an experienced shit way. Oh my Ancients he could absolutely die once more and be the happiest ghost!
He giddily grabbed the little wood whatever-it-was-called in the halfas hand and slid it towards the YES option.
Jason blinked in shock as the planchette in his hand began moving without him forcing it. He had known something not quite alive was here in the gas station, but he hadn't expected it to actually be able to communicate. "I'm Jason, do you have a name?" Slowly, it began moving once more, spelling out P-H-A-N-T-O-M. Which, he wasn't necessarily expecting such a cheesy name, but it could have been worse... probably. "Nice to meet you Phantom. Why are you haunting Bat Gas? I don't recall there being any deaths here."
I-M B-O-R-E-D.
Yeah that was actually a fair enough reason in his books.
"Is there a reason you haven't passed on? Is something tethering you here?"
A-V-O-I-D-I-N-G P-A-P-E-R-W-O-R-K
Shit? There was paperwork in the afterlife? Maybe that was why he decided to come crawling back after getting dumped in the pits. Unfortunate that being a crime lord actually had more paperwork than being a Robin ever did.
Danny was vibrating so fast it looked like that time he ate lithium batteries (it was for science!). The halfa was still talking to him! He was keeping up an interesting conversation! Ouija boarding was so much fun!
"Can you turn visible? Or is that just something movies make up?" He wanted to see Danny! He was interested in what Danny looked like! Dropping his invisibility, Jason visibly startled taking in the sudden appearance before him.
"Hello! I'm Phantom!"
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zepskies · 4 months
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Hi, how are you?
I was wondering if you could write something like "Dean reads you wrong" but with Sam Please
Hey, lovely!
I'm doing well, thank you. 💜 I hope you are too! Hmm, I'm still working through my current bank of requests, but since "Dean reads you wrong" is so fresh, it got me thinking about how Sam would go about this...
Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader
Summary: It's hard for Sam to admit he wants you...when he thinks you might want his brother.
Song Inspo: "If You're Gone" by Matchbox Twenty
Word Count: 1,600 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, fear of unrequited love, mutual pining
Imagine: Sam reads you wrong.
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When Sam falls for someone, he's...well, what he would call self-aware.
But also cautious.
He knows his own track record with women. He knows the life he leads, and has resigned himself to giving up most kinds of normalcy or domesticity.
And maybe, a part deep in the back of his brain has given up on the idea of love.
That's why it's so damn confounding...how you've managed to take him by surprise.
He's always been able to rely on you. Whether it's sharing the brunt of the research with him when Dean loses focus, or staying up with Sam on late nights, sharing mugs of tea and quiet conversation, bonding over familiar tastes in books, and '90s grunge music, of all things.
You also confessed to him, late one night, that you have a growing collection of mugs, fuzzy socks, and vinyl records, despite the fact that your record player has collected more dust than the bunker's old storage room.
You're wonderfully weird.
And you're unfailingly loyal to who you consider "your people." And Sam thinks (knows) he's fortunate enough to be included in that small circle.
Sam also knows, deep in his gut, no matter how much he tries to "rationalize" it away, that you're special. And special to him.
You've managed to do more than just slip under his skin. When he thinks too hard on it, he can admit it (just to himself). You've infiltrated all four corners of his heart so deeply, he doesn't have a prayer of scooping you out.
Some days, it's all he can do not to reach out while you're chatting away, filling the silence.
He can picture it like a scene in his mind: of interrupting your mouth with a gentle hand on your cheek, tilting your face up to his and showing you, with or without words, that he wants you...
And yet.
He can't help but watch how you are with Dean.
You two tease each other, bicker and gripe over coffee grinds left in the coffee pot and who ate the last of the leftovers. You fight with Dean over the remote on movie night (once, damn near smothering him with a pillow).
But you also dote on him, making sure Dean has one of his favorite desserts every time you go out to buy groceries. You swap his beer out for water when he's not looking. (And though Dean frowns and grumbles, he doesn't argue with your raised brow and imploring look.)
It's not quite flirting, but it's not quite platonic either—at least in Sam's eyes. You and Dean seem to have something.
And sometimes, your playful banter with his brother makes Sam sick to his stomach.
Like today, when Sam’s sitting at the kitchen table reading while you're making a cup of tea. The silence between you two is amiable, like usual.
Sam steals a glance at you and has to smile.
"Going with purple polka dots today?" he asks.
You look over with knitted brows of confusion, until you follow his gaze. You laugh sheepishly and wiggle your toes through your fuzzy socks.
"The floor is cold as hell," you defend yourself.
Sam's smile deepens a fraction as he turns back to his book.
"They're cute," he adds.
You turn your face to hide your blush. The mild thunder of heavy boots announces Dean's presence as he pops into the kitchen.
"Oh good, you're cooking. What's for dinner?" he asks. You turn to give him a familiar narrowed look.
"Who says I'm cooking?" you counter.
"Well, you're doing something on the stove..." Dean peers over and catches a whiff of the concoction you're brewing. He grimaces. "Second thought, I'm good. That smells like ass, whatever it is."
You roll your eyes at him. "It's just green tea, Dean. You know, health?"
He levels a deadpan expression at you as he opens up the pantry.
"I see your 'health' and I raise you...Doritos," he says. He digs his hand into the bag he's just pilfered and crunches a mouthful in your face. You can't help but splutter a laugh and push Dean away.
"You're ridiculous. If you catch a heart attack at 50, don't come crying to me."
"Hey, at least I'll die happy."
"Oh, right. A silver lining there. I'd hate to see what your arteries look like," you tease.
"Has anyone told you that you're unsavory?" Dean asks, continuing to crunch with an open mouth.
You smirk. "Is that your way of calling me sweet?"
He snorts. "Sure, sweetheart. We'll call it that."
"You know, I'm not your sweetheart," you point out.
Dean discreetly glances his brother's way with a sly glint in his eyes. Sam doesn't see it; by now he's trying his damndest to keep his eyes in his book and ignore the way his stomach is clenching, chest tightening.
Dean shifts his attention back at you and reaches down to brush your chin with his thumb.
"Not yet, but you could be," he says, in a flirtatious edge that he's never quite taken with you.
You're wide-eyed for a moment. In the end, though, you choose to take it as teasing. You push his hand away and give him an annoyed look.
"God, you're such a clown. Order a pizza if you're that hungry," you rejoin, and you pour two mugs of freshly brewed tea. "I won't even bother offering you one."
"Nope," Dean says, popping the "p." He walks out of the kitchen, giving Sam a firm slap on the back. Sam coughs and shoots his brother a frown.
Dean has the gall to wink at him before he walks out. Like he's having his own little private joke.
Well, Sam isn't laughing. He stares down hard at his book. He tries to ignore everything he just heard and saw out of the corner of his eye.
It becomes too much. He takes up his book and heads out of the kitchen.
He just doesn't see the way you frown as he walks away. There you stand, left holding two mugs of tea for you and him.
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Sam returns to his room for a while. He's not hiding. He's...reading.
There's a knock at his door, and if it's Dean, he swears he's going to open his mouth and tell his brother to leave him the hell alone, like he's some kind of moody teen.
But it's you.
"Hey," you greet, after the door creaks open. Sam softens.
"Hey," he says, clearing his throat. "What's up?"
"You," you reply. You bring him his hot mug of tea and set it down on the desk where he sits.
"Thanks," he says.
You nod and place your mug beside his (Lord of the Rings themed, of course), and cross your arms as you lean against his desk.
Sam turns toward you in his chair. His hands rest on his thighs. His gaze travels back up to your face as he tries to keep his neutral, but welcoming to whatever you want to ask him. (He buries his heart deep, as he instinctively does whenever you're near him.)
"You okay?" you ask. Your brows furrow the longer you gaze down at him. Just staring, like you know he's hiding something. Like you can see straight into him, into the shadows where he keeps most of his thoughts of you.
This is perhaps the only area of his life where he's a coward.
"Yeah, I'm good," Sam replies, in a tone that suggests, Why wouldn't I be?
You quirk a smile. "Why don't I believe you?"
Sam swallows. For once, he's not sure what to say to you.
"You know you can talk to me, right?" you say softly. You take a subtle step into his orbit, almost between his open legs. Your demeanor says that you'd gladly listen, do whatever he asked of you. Because you're just that kind.
Sam's mouth twitches upward. "I know. I'm fine, really."
"You're fine, or you're Winchester fine?" you raise a brow.
Sam chuckles then, showing a flash of his smile. It lightens you.
"Maybe a bit of the second one," he admits.
You smile and inch closer, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"Yeah? Tell me," you say. Your voice is soft, but not quite a whisper.
It leads Sam to sigh. He grasps your hand where it lies on his shoulder. For a moment, he debates internally. He realizes then that Dean's antics earlier might've been more than just teasing. Maybe it was a subtle nudge—to stop wasting time.
Damn it, just do something, Sam thinks.
When you squeeze his hand back, it's just the small push he needs. He glances up at you.
Then he takes your hand and holds it between both of his, with care. He tugs you forward, surprising you as you step forward between his legs. Your mouth parts in soft surprise when he reaches a hand up to your cheek.
You still look surprised, blushing up to your ears, but you're not pulling away. In fact, your widened gaze moves from his eyes to his lips.
Sam smiles. He tugs you down to him and enacts a living daydream, finally kissing you with everything he has. Everything he’s had locked inside.
You respond to his mouth in kind; the subtle gasp of breath against his lips sharply cuts off as you sink into his kiss. Your trembling hand comes to his cheek, grazing the dull prickle of stubble. When your fingers dive into his hair next, it’s his turn to take a deep breath.
With each new kiss, he explores more of you. His hands find your waist, and he gathers you against his chest. You find purchase on his strong shoulders and give into the opportunity to straddle his hips, sitting in his lap while he continues to make your heartbeat wild in your chest.
Sam slows the kiss, only because his brain is starting to catch up with his heart. He wants to see your face, to make sure this is what you want.
He finds that and more when he looks up at you.
He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tenderly brushing his thumb against your cheek.
"Does that answer your question?" he asks, with a soft laugh. You join him and press your forehead against his.
"I don't know,” you tease. Your eyes are dancing, both with amusement and relief. Because your heart has wanted this for even longer than Sam's.
You lean back in to whisper close to his lips. “Maybe I need a little more clarity."
Sam takes you at your word.
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AN: It's been a long time since I've written for Sam! 💜 I got in another request for him a while ago. I may dust that one off soon... Until then, let me know what you think of this!
(And don't worry. I didn't forget about the Soldier Boy imagine I promised. That will come out at the end of this week, most likely!)
Read Dean's version: "Dean reads you wrong."
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Sam Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
SW Tag List:
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @tipthejar
@deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @siampie @violetlilysunshine @nic-kolas @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @malindacath @brujaporfavor @katherineann83 @torchbearerkyle
@sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @adoringanakin @sanscas @pap3rtigers @kaleldobrev @nix-rose
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704 notes · View notes
lethalchiralium · 3 months
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Happiness Headcanons
(NSFW at the end, as a treat 😌)
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- There’s nothing more addictive to Simon than the love of his wife. (Maybe your smell, but probably not.) Simon’s never been consumed by love before (other than Winnie and Mellie) so he is just desperately wanting to protect that.
- He will hold Winnie up by an ankle and pretend he’s selling a prize fish at the market. (She giggles loudly and thrashes, he says, “Oh! ‘ve caught a live one!”)
- The 141 is over pretty much every weekend when they’re on base for long stretches of time. Most of the time they fuss over you cooking, so they bring takeout.
- Winnie likes to dress you some days. Usually it’s just a fun t-shirt and colorful sweatpants or jeans, but sometimes she tugs on a dress you haven’t worn in a while. “Please?” She’ll say, and you have literally no will to say no to her.
- The 141 calls you ‘Missus’ religiously. You’re convinced Price doesn’t know your real name. (He knows your name, he just finds it funny to call you ‘Missus’.)
- Simon secretly LOVES to wash your hair on wash days. He’ll learn your routine from back to front without your knowledge and ask one day to wash your hair. You don’t recall a time since that you’ve had to wash your own hair when he’s home.
- Simon started to learn to love snow when you two started dating. You brought him home to Maine, you were then snowed into your family cabin with just Winnie. Watching her play in the snow was one of his favorite moments.
- He sits at princess tea parties without complaint. Will chat with the cat on duty, who is trying to steal Winnie’s plastic cups. (Missy has had to be held before she starts tearing up stuffies.)
- You always make Simon’s tea first before your own drink. You take time to make it perfect, all because you love seeing him smile as you hand him his “Best Dad Ever” mug.
- Mellie vocalizes to herself to sleep. When she started saying “Dada”, she’d say that to get herself to sleep. Freaked Simon out the first time he heard it on the baby monitor.
- Winnie has an obsession with ice cubes, only because she feeds them to Missy. (“Mama! Ice coobe?” “No, baby. You gave her enough.” “But-“ “No.”)
- Simon can’t figure out how to braid hair for the life of him. It’s somehow too much finger movement, you laughed at that statement.
- There’s a dress you lost in between moving from America to England to be Winnie’s nanny (then subsequently her mom), it was your favorite dress ever. And Simon’s been looking for an exact copy since you two started dating. (He has it in a box in the attic with your due date on it, a surprise for birthing his next baby.)
- Winnie loves seeing you in dresses, she always squeals and compliments you on how pretty you are. She makes you comfortable in your own skin.
- Mellie likes to be wrapped to your chest, little fingers holding onto your shirt as you pick up around the house. She usually falls asleep after fifteen minutes, she just loves to be close to you. It’s the safest place she could ever be.
- Simon likes to lay on the couch with his leg hiked up on the back, so when you come to lay on his chest, he can trap you in. Surprise trap style. (You don’t have the heart to tell him you see it coming every time.)
- Simon plans dates every week.
- You buy tickets to sports events or concerts once every few months and beg him to go. He always says yes.
- He doesn’t sing at all. He’ll hum, but that’s about it. (Which is a lie, he sings little lullabies to his daughters to get them to sleep most nights.)
- Gaz is the go-to babysitter, but if they need to go somewhere overnight, they go to Price. You’ll give Soap a chance every once in a blue moon, but he usually gets drawn on. Head to toe. And is the only uncle who gets terrorized by your five year old. (Simon calls it karma.)
- Missy obviously adores Simon, but when Simon’s busy with the girls, she’ll rub up on your legs and purr like a motorboat.
- Mellie crawls a lot, but she usually likes to pull herself to stand next to the couch - little face staring you down as you sit down. “What, baby? Wanna snuggle?” A little hand reaches up for you, you’re quick to scoop her up and lay down with her. (You always kiss her cheeks, she squeals and makes kissy noises back.)
- You kiss him before you fall asleep every night. The one night you didn’t, he thought you were mad at him. Turns out you were sick and didn’t want to get him sick, but he was incredibly butt hurt about not getting a kiss from his wife.
- Winnie’s favorite color is green. It offends Soap to high heaven since he believes she must secretly be Irish. (Simon nor Winnie’s birth mom are Irish.) You’ve taken the liberty to decide that Mellie’s color is purple.
- Simon takes over laundry and dishes most days so you can recuperate. Raising an almost six year old and almost one year old while having somewhat on and off morning sickness is difficult. (He takes over all duties when you’re essentially locked in the bathroom all day.)
- Gaz and Soap will show up unannounced and essentially push your children to the living room. They’re making blanket forts and drawing with crayons on big sheets of paper. They’ll sit and watch movies, excited that the girls love to spend time with them.
- Winnie’s lunch box and backpack are green and decorated with flowers, she loves them both.
- Simon likes to be held. He’ll shift in the night so his head is on your chest, hands on his back. Hearing you breathe calms him. Hearing your heartbeat helps him breathe easier. (It’s hard not to think about how much his family would’ve loved you.)
- Simon writes down what kind of makeup you like to wear so he can order them if you’re getting low. (No makeup? That’s great too! Man’s purchasing you skincare and nice little lotions, bath bombs, and perfumes. He likes to pamper his beautiful wife.)
- Mellie refuses all vegetables except carrots and broccoli. She’s repeatedly thrown the ones she doesn’t like at her father, so you’ve temporarily stopped making them for her. She’s as happy as a clam.
- You have been looking into getting Simon the dog he wants. Either a Rottweiler, Doberman, or King Shepherd. It’s just hard to buy a £1500 puppy without the fraud alert going off on your joint bank account.
- You ask Simon to paint your nails sometimes. He doesn’t think he could do it right so he refuses and hands you enough quid to go to a nail salon.
- Winnie loves Barbies. She maybe has five of them that she take a great care of. She always requests her father to play with her. Simon always says yes, but is only allowed to play with her favorite Barbie - the one that looks like you.
- Your engagement and wedding rings are a matching set, both expensive and high quality. Simon worked for years without anyone to spend it on, so he saved and invested. It’s not enough to retire on, but it’s enough to buy your matching rings, the matching bracelet, necklace, and earrings. (Yes, he’s still paying that credit card off. No, he doesn’t regret it. He loves watching your face light up with every piece he gives you.)
- He also buys you another bracelet, one with birthstones on them - yours, his, Winnie’s, and Mellie’s. With space for the next one, and maybe another after that. (What can the man say? He can’t wait to see your pregnant belly, it’ll be the first time he’s ever seen a partner of his actually grow his child. He’s excited to wake up every day and see you. (If fifteen year old Simon Riley could see him now, wanting to wake up every day.))
NSFW
- Munch this, munch that, Simon doesn’t go down on you unless asked. He doesn’t think he does it that well, but he’ll do as you ask.
- He unknowingly made you into a pillow princess. His body aches after sex a lot of the time (His injuries that healed wrong) and he’s so conscious to make sure you are comfortable at all times. So if that means he keeps you laying on array of pillows, so be it.
- You do love to ride him though. It’s not often as it requires a lot of energy from you, and you’re almost always exhausted. You just like to watch his eyes roll into the back of his head, the way his Adam’s apple bops as he sucks in air, licking his lips. He’s quite literally your personal art gallery, you could stare at him for days on end.
- He’s not confident in his head giving abilities, but he is very confident with his fingers. Your first orgasm is always from him rubbing your clit, doesn’t matter if it takes a little longer and more effort the more frequently he does it, he wants you soft and pliable so he can gently fuck you.
- Eye contact is huge for you. You trust Simon, you truly do, but there’s just something about how he refuses to look away from you sometimes.
- He’s quiet during sex, which means you’re mostly quiet too. You don’t want the girls to hear, even if they’re down the hall. So he’s extremely quiet, except for the soft grunts and breathy whispers. (“So good, meetin’ my hips like that. Keep rockin’ ‘em, love. Feels so good.”)
- He likes to bend your back sometimes, not often. Having you on your front, pressing his hips down so your back curls and he can go deeper? He’s a mess.
- He gets pussy drunk a lot. He drooled on your chest once, he tried to apologize but you swiped it with your finger and put it in your mouth. “Taste sweet, baby.” (That man immediately asked if he could spit in your mouth, you said another time. That or he could spit on your pussy, which he did ten seconds later.)
- A quickie in the shower is a must before work for him some days. If you’re not up for it, he’ll jerk off thinking of you.
- You like to wash him in the shower, which means you usually get to see him sudsy and clean, always from a below his waist angle though.
- You two don’t have sex every day, but it’s always every few days. More than most of your friends have sex with their partners. (Definitely more than Gaz and Soap can pick up when they’re home.)
- Sometimes he whispers how he wants you to have as many babies as he can give you, that he just wants to see you with a baby belly, how sexy you are being a wonderful mother. (He’s in adoration of you, even when he’s balls deep.)
- Simon is the type to ask Gaz to babysit, then reserve a nice hotel room so he can fuck you without restraint.
- He’ll whimper if you ask nicely and promise something in return. (For example, brushing his hair. Or holding his hair when he goes down on you and controlling where his tongue goes. Fun stuff like that.)
- You do appreciate a quick fingering since pregnancy hormones got you fucked up, you can’t keep asking to get bent over the bathroom counter or your bed because you’re gonna have a baby belly soon.
- As much as he loves having sex with you, he’s nervous to initiate. He knows you don’t mind, he knows you usually say yes, it’s just that he doesn’t want to take advantage of you. He knows what it’s like and he would simply put a bullet in his head if he EVER touched you when you didn’t want him to. He loves you too much.
468 notes · View notes
pearlywritings · 6 months
Text
The trace of you
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synopsis: the marks you leave on your lover during your intimate moments
pairing: Ayato, Blade, Diluc, Jing Yuan, Kaveh, Neuvillette, Sampo, Wriothesley x fem!reader (separately)
tw: smutty, established relationship, marks, shibari, biting, implied sex, implied oral (both m! and f! receiving), collar, ABO elements, two dicks, handcuffs, scratching
word count: 5.6k+ words in total
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Ayato
The head of the Kamisato clan lets his heavy lids slide closed while you are carefully untying the knots and unwrapping the ropes, abandoning the pieces of red braided strings at the foot of the bed. His limbs are pleasantly tingling and he does release a relieved sigh when he can finally stretch his legs to the curling of his toes. Cherry-like lips tug in a smile and thick lashes tremble when your palms cup his cheeks and you kiss each of his eyelids, murmuring a quiet apology for taking so long and promises of getting to rest soon. He murmurs something along the lines of everything being alright, that he doesn’t mind the hurry.
Yet when you kneel between his thighs to tend to the front of his torso, the man shakes his head and drops his forehead onto your shoulder, rolling his blades, hinting to his arms, still tied behind his back. You immediately usher him into your embrace, cheek pressed to his messy baby blue locks, fingers working on setting him free. Ayato inhales your scent, keening on the warmth and softness of your body, pressing light kisses to what skin he can reach in his hazy state. Despite being at someone else’s mercy, restricted, vulnerable - with you he feels safe.
As soon as all the ropes are undone and thrown away, you ease him onto his back, carefully moving his arms and legs to make him comfortable, to help him restore blood circulation. Somewhere in the process he must’ve fallen into slumber, because the next time he slowly blinks his eyes open, you are sitting by his side, dressed in nothing but a thin bathrobe, loosely tied and not properly held together, exposing your collarbones and some of your breasts.
“Husband,” it sounds a little old-fashioned, but Ayato loves when the term leaves your lips and is directed to him. “The bath is almost ready. Do you need another minute?”
Humming, he makes some attempts to move. He fists his hands, flexes his arms a little, tries to bend his legs in knees and lift his upper body to sit. Some are more successful than the others, but generally he’s established control over his own body again.
“Maybe just a couple more,” he sighs and lies onto his back again. Before he can say anything else, you are already crawling onto the bed to settle near him in order to rub and massage the parts of his body that were immobilized for quite some time. Your husband doesn’t stop you, only letting out groans and little moans when you apply pressure just right.
However soon your lack of any noises captures his attention and he finds your eyes trailing up and down his body, the tips of the fingers sometimes tracing the patterns on his skin. He quickly realizes why - the braided texture of the ropes imprinted their shape into his flesh. It doesn’t hurt, and it also didn’t, and thank Archons you do not look concerned. More like astonished.
“Something on your mind, wife?” The eyes he loves so much immediately dart to his face, blinking once and then crinkling a little in the corners from your soft smile.
“Nothing in particular. Just that the shibari aesthetic looks good on you even when the bondage is no longer here. Also, I am thankful for the opportunity to see you on the receiving end. I enjoyed that. Did you?”
“Mhm,” he mirrors your smile, “I did. Thank you.”
He pushes himself to sit up, reaching his hand to yours, locking fingers and then leaning forward to steal a sweet kiss from your lips. The more your lips meet, the clearer his head becomes, and by the tenth (maybe) kiss you shared he feels a surge of strength - just enough to get to the bathroom, where you two can thoroughly soak.
“I admit,” you begin, getting off the bed and offering him a hand for support, which he takes without hesitation, straightening in his full naked glory, giving you another opportunity to admire the patterns edged into his skin, “I didn’t understand before, why you loved it so much to watch me right after the ropes were gone from my body. Now I think I do. The marks they leave are truly marvelous.”
“Oh?” A teasing edge delves into his tone. “Do you imply we should practice it more often, my lovely wife?”
You chuckle, tugging on his wrist and leading him to the bathroom.
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt, my dear husband.”
Blade
“Whatever you are doing - stop it,” he doesn’t want to open his eyes, the darkness behind his eyelids is soothing. He wants to rest, and the comforting weight of your body on top of his is welcomed (though he doesn’t admit it outloud), however your fingers, skimming over the expanse of his shoulders and the length of his neck disturb him.
“It isn’t fair,” in your voice he guesses displeasure. He feels you lightly dig your nails into the skin and scratch, as if this action will help you find something you’ve been looking for for a couple of minutes already. “It’s been only half an hour and they are gone already. And I tried extra hard today while biting you.”
Ah, that’s what it is all about. Fucking with Blade is…an experience. A rough, teeth-baring, primal, desperate experience. The one that always ends with breath stolen, legs shaking and many marks left. Only difference is that yours bloom for weeks while his heal in less than an hour.
“You looked very beautiful with my teeth imprinted into your skin,” you sigh, thumb running over his jaw. “Now they are all gone. That’s not fair, Blade.”
Possessing that self-healing ability isn’t fair, yet here is, breathing, living, even being involved with a woman… A very stubborn woman, he must say.
He curses when your teeth sink into the side of his neck, clamping down quite hard, jaws flexing for good measure to make the mark stay. His hand slides from the small of your back to your behind, squeezing a buttock in a silent warning. That’s enough for you to whine - flesh is still tender from the time he took you from behind, spanking your poor ass.
“I know, I know… What’s the point if this one won’t last too…” you sigh, looking at it to at least remember that you did put claim on him, even if only for a matter of minutes. Blade is silent, but his fingers relax.
Is he growing soft? Is it even possible? Or is it the fact that he’s just gotten comfortable with you enough to let many things you do slide? You do make it feel like an almost normal life. Which, given he cannot yet be put 9 feet underground, makes the existence more bearable. Even Kafka commented on it on multiple occasions and Silver Wolf rolled her eyes and huffed “stupid lovebirds” when you two simply walked into the room together…
And if you have a ‘lover’ you are supposed to heed their needs and desires, right?
Or why the hell is he doing this?
“...I think I have a solution for you,” you are startled when he finally speaks, staring at his face. He still has his eyes closed, but the hand returns to the small of your back, resting there.
“A solution? What solution?”
“Silver Wolf showed me that…trend.”
“Oh?” With every word that leaves his pale lips your curiosity grows, along with a tiny bit of disbelief at what your fellow Stellaron hunter is doing.
“Basically you bite a place on another person’s skin and the master is turning the indentation into a tattoo.”
“Blade…” you don’t recognize your own voice, so shocked you are right now. “Are you saying you’ll get a tattoo of my teeth mark on your skin?”
“...yes.”
“Anywhere? Even on your neck?”
“...” He doesn’t reply, but after a few seconds he nods. Positive.
“I… I…” you don’t know what to say. Instead you bury your face into his neck, shakily exhaling, still processing his offer. You don’t complain when he rolls you two onto your sides, putting one hand under his head and draping the other over your waist, spooning you.
“Sleep,” is all he says, putting his chin on top of your head.
We’ll talk about it tomorrow.
Diluc
“Good morning, handsome,” Diluc slightly shudders when your arms wrap around his bare waist and you push your cheek against his shoulder blade. You’ve just woken up and could not possibly resist the sight through the open bathroom door - your husband standing in front of the mirror, clad only in his black pants, with fluffy hair cascading down his back and him, clearly inspecting something in his reflection. 
“Good morning to you too, my flame,” his big hand easily envelopes the lock of yours and gives it a soft squeeze. “How did you sleep?”
“Amazing. You really loved that stress out of my system tonight,” you giggle, rubbing your nose against his skin, recalling the events from less than 7 hours ago. Of his big, strong body slamming yours into the bed after you teased him by simply kissing, licking and sucking all over his body for way too long. Anyone would’ve slept like a log after such an activity.
“I see,” there is an undertone in his voice that you easily recognize as a little pinch of pride for the good job he did, and you reach up to kiss the side of his jaw in appreciation. “Speaking of tonight, it seems you, my dear, were exceptionally passionate.”
“Whatever do you mean?” He slightly turns his head and behind the heavy crimson bangs you spot mischief in his flaming eyes. “‘Luc, what’s going on?”
“Look in the mirror and find out.”
Still clueless you follow his advice, redirecting your gaze… only to yelp when you see it.
“Oh my Archon! Diluc, does it hurt??” You release him from your hold and step around to make sure that the light or something didn’t trick you and you saw exactly what you saw. And you see exactly what you saw - an angry-looking trace of teeth, your teeth, circling around the man’s left nipple.
“Not really, but it is quite sensitive,” your husband admits as you are staring at the ‘damage’ you caused his poor chest during the foreplay. You really thought the bite wasn’t that hard! “Don’t worry too much, my flame. It’ll heal eventually.”
“You sure there is nothing to worry about?” Your eyes, full of concern, play the most tender strings of his heart. At the same time Diluc can’t get why you are being so worked up over a love bite. Besides, Ragnvindr is a forward man - if he didn’t like it he would’ve voiced so, and you, having spent so much time with him, still tend to forget that sometimes.
“I am sure. It’s not that different from the marks I leave on you. And you don’t worry about them, right?”
You look at the bite again, acknowledging his words and realizing that if your initial reaction is thrown out of the window you quite admire how beautiful the red indentation contrasts against his pale skin.
“Right. You know, it actually looks very good.”
“It does. Because it’s yours,” your face heats at such lewdly blatant truth, to which the redhead simply smiles, grabbing your chin between his fingers and drawing you closer for a kiss. Your palms slide up his shoulders and around his neck, while his unoccupied one grips your waist, pushing your body flash to his. Unexpectedly you jump, but he readily brings both hands under your butt to help you settle onto his hips. With a slither of relief you note that Diluc doesn’t wince, doesn’t even crease his eyebrows when your chests collide, but the thought is quickly forgotten as he kisses you even deeper.
He breaks away only when he is sitting on the edge of the bed with you on his lap. The man loves the blissful expression on your face, the sight of your night clothes sliding down one of the shoulders, baring his own marks (not as teethy as yours, but still quite prominent and pretty). You are the image of serenity, and he is glad he succeeded in giving you a peace of mind.
“I want to be the one to put a shirt on you today,” you suddenly say, palms softly smoothing over the wideness of his pectorals, mindful of the area around his left nipple. “You tend to be rough with your movements. I can do it more gently.”
Yeah, sure, or more like gawk at the bite while busy with buttons, now that concern is out of the picture. But Diluc doesn’t let you know he is aware of your intention - as he said, it is yours, thus you have full right to do so.
Jing Yuan
Most times your husband reminds you of his very pet. Big, imposing, with thick mane of hair and a pleased cat-like smile. Especially in the moments of rest, when he practically turns into a lion himself, grayish locks all let down and cascading down his back, eyes lazily closed and a serene expression overtaking his face as your fingers gently touch him, eliciting pleasurable groans and sighs out of him.
“Glad you are not mad at me,” he perks at your words, opening just one eye, and regarding you - sitting on his thighs, with hot water reaching up to your waist and hands carefully rubbing something into his neck. You look positively glowing, with hickies blooming on your chest and shoulders and that concentrated look in your pretty eyes.
“Why would I be mad at you, beloved?” Big hand that rests on your hip gives it a small squeeze and the other one comes to support his cheek as he closes his eyes again. “Don’t you think everything is perfect? We made love, got to relieve some stress in the process and now we are relaxing in a bath. Don’t know about you, but I enjoyed every second of it, and having your body on top of me right now is all that I need.”
“Of course, I enjoyed every second of it,” humming, you lean down to press small kisses to his eyelids and the general’s smile gets wider. “And I am thankful that you entertained my desire to try something new. I just wish my actions didn’t leave such marks on your neck.”
“They are subtle, no? And it doesn’t hurt, I promise. Though I am not going to lie, I like the feeling of your hands treating it.”
You huff a chuckle, scooping a new portion of ointment to gently apply on reddish lines on his skin - the places where the collar’s edges dug a little too harshly into his neck. Tonight it’s been especially steamy - your husband delegated you the control in bed through agreeing to be put on a leash and perform any of your commands by a tug of it. And Aeons, was he great at that - burying his face into your pussy until he barely could take a breather, arching his back as you pulled on the leash while your mouth was decorating his chest with hickies, but also going absolutely feral as you drew him closer as he was pounding into you from behind, growling and moaning your name, practically crushing you with his weight, but he knew you liked it.
“Yuan,” he hums, not opening his eyes, but turning his ear to you, “you’ve done such a marvelous job for me. Do you want any special treatment in return?”
“Oh?” To that he is intrigued, finally showing you both of his golden orbs, lifting his head and putting his second palm on your other hip. “I’m honored, but you are my wife. If I wasn’t doing a marvelous job for you every day I would be undeserving of calling myself your husband.”
“And yet I want to give you extra treatment,” satisfied with the look of his neck, reddish lines slowly paling, you lower your hands to clean them, giving the man an opportunity to get closer and bury his face into your chest, happily rubbing his cheek against your breast, arms now loosely wrapped around your waist.
“Then I want you to cockwarm me while we sleep.”
“But we do that almost every night, silly,” your fingers run through his wet hair, twitching as his hips rock into yours and water splashes a little. “It’s no special treatment.”
“Hmm… If that’s the case, then I’d love to - only if you are okay with that - if we get you a matching collar. I am simply curious how you’d look wearing it,” he looks up at you, chin resting between your breasts and eyes bearing a question in them. “Would it be alright?”
“It would,” you duck your head down and peck his forehead, earning yourself a deep purr. Oh how surprised he is going to be when you tell him that his collar and leash came in a set of two, specifically for couples…
You can’t wait to match marks with your husband.
Kaveh
The blond architect has long since learned of your lack of shame. To a man who has a hard time saying ‘no’ this trait is admirable and quite helpful when you are not afraid to put exceptionally fastidious clients of his in their place with a sharp tongue of yours. To a man who enjoys a good laugh and seeing any emotion on Alhaitham’s face rather than smugness he loves your impudence and shooting the scholar down with highly inappropriate yet witty remarks. To a man who feels like he is falling apart it’s important that you take matters into your own hands to spoil him way more when necessary, extending this to the bedroom.
And that’s where your shameless nature get to him.
“Please tell me you are done staring,” Kaveh doesn’t know where to escape from your appreciative gaze. The position definitely doesn’t help - with you resting on your stomach with an elbow planted onto the mattress and a palm supporting your chin, while your other hand’s fingers dance across the expanse of his spread thighs. Thighs, that are naked like the rest of him. And you too.
“But songbird,” you smile, smoothing a thumb over one of the blooming hickies decorating his inner thighs, “you are very pretty like this. Makes me want to give you a blowjob.”
“Y/n..!” The man blushes profusely, pressing the back of his hand to his quivering lips. It doesn’t escape your attention, however, how his semi-hard cock twitches.
“You’ve worked so hard this past week - give yourself a day off, sweety. And I’ll get to keep you in bed, making you feel so good and satisfied…”
“B-but what if one of my clients asks for a meeting today-”
“Then they can go to the Abyss,” you huff, moving your face closer, placing a tender kiss to his knee, starting a slow travel to his thigh. “You are the architect in high demand… you have the right to handle your schedule however you see fit.”
“Mmm,” his head falls back and jaw goes slack in a breathy moan as your lips caress his marked skin. Once reaching the hip bone you plant a firmer kiss there and draw back a little, only to repeat the same path from his other knee.
“Come on, Kaveh. You and I know you are tired and deserve some rest. And pampering. Tonight was hardly enough to meet all your needs. Your body is still so tense. I want you to be as malleable as the clay you work so much with…”
Done with another trail of kisses, you lift your upper body, pulling yourself up, so your chest rests against his pelvis, making him take a sharp inhale through gritted teeth. If you continue with your leisurely teasing, he sure is to pop a boner. Right between your breasts.
“So?” You inquire, reaching a hand up, cupping his flushed cheek, making those eyes that remind you of mourning flower’s petals so much meet yours. “Are you staying home with me? Are you letting me take care of you, kiss your lips, make you moan, have your cock nestled between my walls? Pretty please?”
Your offer is hard to resist. You are hard to resist. Looking up at him from between his spread legs, all bare and gorgeous, with hair being a little mess and lips a bit swollen from the make out session you had upon waking up. With your palms so light and gentle, one holding his face and the other running up and down his side, thumb counting each rib. With your words - so loving, yet shameless, luring him into your embrace, into receiving everything you are eager to give him.
And he is eager too.
“Yes…” He breathes out, bringing his hand up, wrapping his artistic fingers around yours and turning his head to plant a kiss to your palm.
“Yes to everything?” You clarify, your other palm settling on his hip.
“Mhm… But can we shower and have breakfast first, please?”
“Everything for you, sunshine,” with a wide grin, quite proud of yourself for convincing him, you push your body up and get onto your knees. Kaveh exhales and releases your hand from his hold, sitting straighter to close his legs and throw them over the edge of the bed. Already with your back to him you suddenly hear a small whine of discomfort.
“Another thing, love,” the architect’s brows are pinched together when you glance at him from over your shoulder, “no more marks on my thighs. Please.”
Neuvillette
Content growling is resonating off the walls in the vast dark room. One soft and gratifying, the other deep and satisfied, they rumble in your and your lover’s throats, blending into a marvelous primal melody. Hands - big, clawed and covered in scales of royal blue cradle your face in a tender hold, lavender eyes, brimmed with adoration, look into yours and it feels like you are the only thing that exists in this world.
These moments of clarity are nice and warm, and serve as a reminder, that you are here not only to satisfy your bestial needs, but to be one as lovers, as mated for life. The male’s lengths twitch between your walls when your nose pushes into the freshly bitten mating mark on his neck, a similar one is on the side of yours. You claimed each other long ago, centuries have passed, but every time your heat or his rut begins, this euphoric feeling of having each other’s teeth clamping on that particular patch of skin is unmatched and reminds of the very first time.
Neuvillette shudders when your tongue laps on the bruised skin and closes his eyes, panting, burning under your mouth despite your cryo nature. You purr, reaching to glide your fingers over the length of his beautiful horns - the ones you tenderly kissed hours ago, to show your husband your appreciation of his dragon features, to lure him into your embrace, to beg him to satisfy the ache in your heart and between your legs, because your heat has started.
“You are gorgeous, my love,” you sigh against his neck, free hand roaming over his chest, feeling its firmness, caressing the scales. “I am so lucky to have such a caring and devoted mate.”
“I am the lucky one,” the man smiles - you know he does. And you know, that despite everything, he preens from your praise and compliments. “You are divine from head to toe and I forever shall treasure you.”
“And I forever shall treasure you.”
Exchanging sweet declarations of love, you cuddle some more, nuzzling your noses against each other, sharing deep and meaningful kisses, holding hands and wondering if you should take a proper break before the next set of rounds.
The Hydro dragon digs his claws into your hip when you draw away, his cocks slipping out of your pussy. He lets his eyes stray to the many marks he left on your neck, breasts, hips and even thighs, as you sit up and stretch. The arch of your back is mesmerizing and he is quickly reminded of the ways it can bend whenever he is thrusting into you. So tender and delicate, you writhe into his arms and then, when he least expects it…
You surge forward and bite onto his neck.
Neuvillette moans and that’s the prettiest sound to you. It makes you want to devour him whole, to kiss all over his body - over all the marks you’ve given him and the bare skin too, to bite and lick, as you make your way down his body, until one of his lengths rests heavy onto your tongue.
But by the looks of it, it seems that your lover has the opposite idea, since he’s already pouncing onto you, pinning you to the bottom of your nest and slotting himself between your legs.
“Will you claim me again, my love?” His eyes and horns are gleaming and you can’t take your eyes off of him, And as you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer, making the heads of his cocks slip between your folds, leaning his face into your neck as you bury yourself into his, there is only one answer.
“Oh, darling… Only if you claim me once again as well.”
Sampo
“I told you it was a bad idea,” the man gasps when you softly hit his head with the side of your palm. “When I said ‘Sampo, get us handcuffs to try something new in bed’ I meant the soft fluffy ones used specifically for sex, not the metal ones!”
“Sorry…” he whines, raising a hand to rub the top of his stupid head, but you quickly catch his fingers, bringing them back to your lap.
“Sampo, let me finish with your wrists first. Honestly… And you tugged so harshly on them, no wonder there are marks left. I hope they won’t bruise…”
“Aww, you worry about me,” your lover coos with the intention to tease you, but deep down he doesn’t deny that he is happy to hear that. You sigh, rubbing the ointment (you farsightedly got from Natasha) into his skin to soothe the pulsing aching from hours spent in the metal wraps.
“Yeah, yeah, I do. But I am too an idiot, should’ve at least thought of putting some fabric in-between.”
“Hey, you are not an idiot,” he resents, nudging your shoulder with his. “I know an idiot when I see one.”
“Looking into the mirror?”
“Hey!”
You chuckle softly. Sampo watches you with a surprisingly calm look on his face, pout quickly dissolving and lips drawing into a small smile. You were right on that one - it was very stupid of him. However, he was running late to your meeting with all the things that needed to be done in the Overworld, and he didn’t have time to get the goods, but at the same time he didn’t want to disappoint you with empty hands. He is glad that those were used on him and not you. Partly because he wouldn’t want your pretty wrist to hurt, partly because he thoroughly enjoyed his submission to you.
You can’t really blame him for tugging too much - how could he stay stiff when your walls clenched so deliciously as you rode him and your breasts were jiggling right before his face - he wanted to grab! Generally he can’t keep his hands away from you, and it goes beyond the things happening in the bedroom. It’s your own fault for being so alluring!
“Next time I’ll get you the ones you want. Sampo Koski’s word!”
You tear your gaze from inspecting the work you’ve done and look at him. When it came to you, there was no doubt the indigo-haired male fulfilled his promises (not always accurately like this time, but he saw things through in the end). However there is another implication that occupies you…
“Oh? Does it mean you’d like to try that again?”
“Huh? Have you really not noticed how much I was enjoying all of this?” Sampo looks at you as if you grew a second head. Were you not watching him the whole time his dick was in your pussy!?
“No, no, I have! I was just unsure if you'd like to be cuffed again,” you hurry to reassure him, waving your hands in front of you. “You know, with Silvermane guards always chasing you and trying to capture you…”
“You are adorable,” he muses, freeing his hands from your careful grasp and grabbing your hips to drag you onto his lap, playing with the hem of your sleeping gown. “It doesn’t bother me in the slightest. After all, they’ll never catch me - this right is reserved only for you.”
“Wow, such a romantic guy,” his cheeks flare when you giggle - a sound too pure and heart-fluttering, and he lets you settle on top of him as he falls onto his back and reaches for the covers. That was surely a pleasurably draining night. You two should get some rest.
As he turns the nightstand lamp off and the room sinks into darkness, you get comfortable under the blanket, snuggling closer to a big warm body. Sampo is silly and an ass sometimes, but it’s hard to be mad at him for long, when he treats you to the things you want. Oh, that reminds you…
“By the way, where did you get those handcuffs?”
“...borrowed Gepard Landau’s personal pair?”
“...”
“...”
“SAMPO!”
Wriothesley
“For how long are you going to sulk and weep for my back? It’s not like I am dying,” Wriothesley turns his head to glance at you over his shoulder and sees what he’s expected to see - your knitted eyebrows, eyes practically screaming “oh no, I am the worst person in the world”, lips pressed into a tight line… That’s definitely not the look he wanted to see on his wife’s face after having sex with her.
“I am so sorry, Wrio…” you say for probably the tenth time, - he lost count in the very beginning, - your tone so miserable and quiet. “I didn’t think my nails were that long to scratch you to blood. And over your scars too…”
“I’ve already told you, I am not dyi- gh,” a hiss escapes him when a peroxide-soaked cotton ball touches a particularly sensitive place. He feels your hand flinch and he almost groans. You worry too much for him sometimes.
“I am fine. Besides, I think it’s actually pretty hot. Means I fucked you good enough for you to cling to me for dear life.”
“Wriothesley!” He lets out a throaty chuckle as you lightly hit his shoulder. “I am being serious right here! You know I don’t like when you end up hurt…” you huff, soaking a new ball to tend to another red line running down his wide back. “And this time I am the one who hurt you…”
“It felt good though, baby. I wouldn’t have even thought much of it, if you hadn’t jumped out of the bed after seeing the marks you’ve given me. But I must admit - watching you run around the room naked… That was sexy.”
“Wrio,” you whine in embarrassment, having little desire to be reminded of your debauched state in that moment of panic. Even now you are still bare, sitting behind your equally undressed husband and cleaning up the last of the ten angry-looking red lines.
“Don’t be shy,” sensing that you are done, he turns to face you properly and reaches a hand to cup your cheek. “I shall wear the marks my wife gave me with pride, right?” He leans to press a kiss to the corner of your lips and that makes you smile. “In fact, tomorrow - or rather today, given it’s almost 1 am, I’m going to fight in the ring with my shirt off.”
“YOU WHAT!?” He was ready for your shocked exclamation, grabbing your hips, and pulling into his lap, silencing your rising outrage with a firm kiss. He smirks at the little moan, swallowing it with his mouth, burying his fingers in your hair to keep you where he wants you to be - with knees planted on both sides of his hips, making out with him.
“Just imagine that,” a hoarse whisper against your lips sends a shudder down your spine, “everyone would know that my woman has perfect claws and that she doesn’t hesitate to mark what belongs to her.”
“Everyone would think I am abusing my husband,” you mutter, trying to ignore how his teeth graze down your neck, until he exhales in discontent.
“You are still thinking you hurt me? Fine, that means I hurt you first,” suddenly your world turns upside down and here you are, back pressed to the mattress with his burly figure hovering over yours.
“Wh-hat do you mean?” 
“You clawed to my back only because I was pounding into your pussy roughly, right?” Your eyes bulge in your sockets at his shameless words, and mouth falls open in a gasp when he slides down your body, spreading your legs. “I bet the poor thing is all aching… Should I kiss it better?”
“Wrio- ooooh!”
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just-jordie-things · 2 months
Note
Jordie sometimes I think about Yuta dropping me off after our first date and then after saying bye and closing the door on him the doorbell would ring and as soon as it’s opened he steals a kiss help my brainrot
god LOVE bc he wants to be a gentleman and take it slow but...
as far as first dates go, it might not have been perfect, but neither of you would go home complaining. all night your heart was aflutter- from the way he opened every door for you, pulled your chair out for you, and made sure to walk on the outside of the sidewalk, you were swooning every time you turned your head.
you'd been crushing on yuuta for some time now, so this didn't come as a surprise to you. it seemed everything he did was charming or endearing. so when he got out of the car to walk you to your door, your heart rate only picked up knowing what would come next.
maybe it was just your crush taking over your brain, but you had a feeling he was a good kisser, and you really, really wanted to put the theory to the test.
"i had a really great time tonight," yuuta would say, and he'd mean every word. his smile would be bashful, his hands would be tucked in his pockets, and he would look radiant basked in the soft yellow of your porch light. "do you... think you'll let me take you out again?"
(you've already made plans for your second date after passing a cute cafe that just opened, but you think it's so cute that he asked you properly that you decide not to tease him for it)
((yet))
"i'd like that very much" you'd say, soft and sweet, your knees weakening by the second as you wait for some sort of signal. a flicker of his eyes to your lips, a lean, anything.
instead, he reaches out to squeeze your hand gently as he bids you goodnight. but just as you're about to get onto the tips of your toes, he's releasing your hand, and stepping off your porch.
for a minute, you stand there and stare at him dumbfounded as he walks back to his car. you don't know if you should feel disappointed or heart-warmed by the lack of kiss.
maybe he didn't kiss on first dates? maybe it wasn't personal? you'd made sure to pop a mint in your mouth after dinner after all- and it burned your tongue when you let it sit too long for nothing?
making your way inside, you tell yourself that there will be other chances- it's not like you absolutely had to have a kiss goodnight to mark the conclusion of a date- a really, really nice date.
but a kiss would've been nice.
you kick off your cute first-date shoes and drop your purse beside them as you move to shrug off your coat. you refuse to let disappointment cloud the rest of an otherwise lovely evening! but you can't help the slight sink of your heart every time you replay it all and come to the end.
on the fourth replay, you've hung up your coat and purse and are just about to tuck your shoes into the closet, when the ring of your doorbell startles you upright.
you answer the door almost embarrassingly fast- even though you were still standing there and there was no reason not to open it right away- but you're frozen still when you see yuuta there.
your surprise is quickly overridden by delight as you smile at him warmly, always so happy to see him, even if it has been five minutes.
was this puppy love? the honeymoon phase?
"yuuta," you greet him sweetly, tilting your head ever so slightly to display your surprise.
you don't have the opportunity to question him or invite him in or anything, because just as soon as his name falls from your lips, he's wrapping his hands around your waist and his lips are on hers and he's kissing her-
oh, he's kissing you.
the shock melts away into something more pleasant... something soft and warm and so consuming that you have to brace your hands against his collarbone to make sure you didn't get too dizzy.
it was the perfect first kiss, even with the delay. he kisses you the same way he compliments you, softly and surely, and yet again you find yourself swooning. yuuta was a charmer through and through.
it's not a long kiss by any means, but when you part, you have to gasp for air, eyes fluttering wide open with unadultered excitement, only to find yuuta already smiling down at you. his face is flushed, his tongue darts over his bottom lip to savor the hint cherry vanilla just a moment longer, and you almost dared to lean up and steal another kiss.
"couldn't leave without it, huh?" you can't help but tease this time.
yuuta chuckles, you had no idea.
"didn't even make it out of the driveway" ___
yuuta sitting in his car turning it on and off debating on if it was too forward to go up there and kiss you:
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strawbsj · 25 days
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can i make a req for ive’s yujin x reader ? i’ll take anything as long as its g!p yujin please nd tysm <33
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Pairings: Stepmom G!p Yujin x Stepdaughter Fem reader!!
Warnings: virgin reader, mutual masturbation, cheating, wlw marriage, pervert Yujin, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your Willy), breeding, degrading, pantie stealing, tummy bulge, reader gets called slut, whore, kitten.., step mom stepdaughter relationship, Yujin is kinda mean, p in v, not proofread,reader bleeds, painful sex and just very filthy smut!!!
Word count:1,8k
Jwans Note: hope you enjoy this love! I’m sorry I posted this kinda late, I’ve been so busy lately and life’s been too much!😭
—————————————————————————
If you were honest, which was something you always wanted to be, you don’t really trust nor like your new stepmom, Yujin. She always seemed off to you, she always was nice and kind towards you but you knew something with the whole marriage of her and your mom had something off.
Till now she has been treating your mom well and you don’t want to ruin their marriage and your moms happiness by some strange feeling you have, beside you don’t even know if that’s what you really feel. Maybe it’s just some thoughts that your brain is just trying to give you.
But deep down you knew these are not just some thoughts…she always seemed strange with you. You felt so exposed and uncomfortable under her predator gaze. The atmosphere immediately turning cold and your skin getting goosebumps at the way her bottom lip was nibbled by her teeth when you walked past her in the kitchen.
You confirmed yourself that those are not just thoughts when you saw her, digging all of the clothes that were in your hamper and when she found what she wanted, a pink pair of your panties with a ribbon. She took a deeep and loong sniff, that left her intoxicated. She smirked at herself and stuffed it in her pocket.
All of that and you were peeking your head from the small gap that was in your door. Something in you snapped and you barged into your room.
She flinched a little before her dirty smirk was on her face again. “What were you doing?” You hoped that you sounded intimidating or at least firm but the look on her face always made your knees weak and head spin.
“I was going to do your laundry, kitten” Her smug expression got replaced with a smile. Ugh, the pet name that left your skin alarmed. You don’t think that a normal stepmom stepdaughter relationship included the mom to call her stepdaughter kitten.
“What were you doing here?” She continued, acting like this is not your room in the first place.
“This is my room” you hoped that this conversation would end as soon as possible before you’d end up in your bed in your signature shrimp position that you always did when you felt uncomfortable tension. She gave a laugh before coming near you and patting your shoulder “Right!” And with that she left you here all alone with the mess of your dirty clothes.
You obviously can’t tell your mom, first she won’t believe what you are saying about your stepmom and second she’d think you want to take her happiness away from her and ruin the marriage that she’d been dreaming of. So Nuh uh!!
Hearing what your mom just said, you wanted to just go on your knees and beg her not to go. She has this urgent work trip that she would be spending the rest of the month on and you’d be here all alone….with your stepmom…Yujin.
When your mom was bidding you goodbyes you just stood there awkwardly. Your mom gave you a kiss on the cheek before she went on her tip toes to kiss her wife, on the lips. You just looked away, not wanting to see the awkward scene.
“Goodbye girls, have fun!” Your mom flashed her warm motherly smile, that never failed to make your heart fill with comfort. You suddenly felt a pair of arms wrapped around your neck and chest are from the side, it was Yujin. “Oh don’t worry we will!” The smug expression was again on her face, and you just stood there looking at your mom with puppy eyes, silently begging her to just cancel the trip. But no! Your mom said her last goodbye before walking out, and here you are alone with the devil.
The days were strangely going somewhat ok. It was just you rotting in bed all day, going out to grab something to eat here and there, sometimes spending some time with your friends outside or just simply doing skincare and relaxing.
“Y/n, I have a day off today, want to spend it together?” She asked, The smirk that was naturally carved into her face never leaving.
“Sure!” What did you just say? Your tongue said something before letting your brain actually process it. “Do you want to watch a movie?” The smirk carved into her face now even wider.
“S-sure!” You, as a people pleaser of course agreed, never wanting to let someone down even if that means watching a movie with someone you don’t like. And it’s just a movie nothing special will happen, you will just watch the movie silently and head back to your room…right?
Welll….No! You won’t just watch the movie and head back to your room…Yujin was sitting on the other side of the couch while you were cuddled on the other side, silently. But throughout the movie she slowly started coming closer and closer to your side, you shook it off, not thinking much about it. Until a cold hand was on your bare thigh, on your warm skin. You let out a yelp before, your reflexes slapped her hand away.
The inner side of her cheek was between her teeth, while her jaw was clenched, not pleased by your previous act. She looked straight in front of her at the movie and her eyes were burning with fire and anger.
Oh god how much you wanted to bury yourself now six feet under. The devil wanted to be extra evil now and the movie just flashed a hot steamy sex scene, like can this get worse? It wasn’t even censored, basically just straight porn.
And how much you hated yourself for getting aroused, your mind and body reacted differently. And now you couldn’t help yourself but to gulp at the sight in front of you, sinful moans from the actor while he fucked that woman’s brain out.
Your juices were like a pool in your panties and Yujin noticed. The next time her hand found its way to your burning thigh, you didn’t yank her hand away, in fact you moaned at that simple contact.
“Such a dirty whore, moaning at this” She let out an evil chuckle before rubbing your thighs. You let out another whiny moan before you grabbed her hand and guided it to your drenched core.
“You acted like a hard to get and look at you now, begging to be touched like the slut you are.” Her finger pads started toying with your sensitive bud, the sweetest high pitched moans left your lips.
You can’t lie, Yujin is way too good looking and you can’t lie, you’ve always imagined how good Yujin can fuck with her massive cock. You imagined how good and deep it would be buried in you, how easily she can split you in two and probably ruin your fucking cervix with one single thrust.
“Bet it’s easy to get you to cum!” She let out another chuckle before pinching your swollen pearl. A cry fell from your lips and you started grinding against her fingers, begging to feel more.
And suddenly all of that was gone. Her touch left your desperate body. She slid her pants along with her boxers down and pulled her shirt over her head and threw it somewhere in the apartment.
Her massive cock sprung out and it left your mouth watered, licking your lips. Your imagination was doing her cock so wrong, it looked better now that you see it, better than you have ever imagined. Girthy and the perfect amount of veins filling it. Her mushroom tip angry red with white substance painting.
Your hand had traveled down to your shorts rubbing your clit in desperation, while your other hands fingers started pumping in and out of your wet hole. She sat next to you before her palm started thrusting against her cock.
Your eyes were threatening to close in pleasure but you didn’t want to miss the sight in front of you.
“Spit on my cock!” The demand made you stop in your tracks, studying her expressions and you realized that she was dead serious.
Your head went closer to her cock before your warm saliva flew to her base, and she immediately started pumping it. Husky groans falling from her lips while you went back into stuffing your fingers into your now red pussy.
She grabbed your wrist and made you lay on the couch, before her cock was making its way to your hole.
“Are you a virgin?” She looked at you,brows raised, her bottom lip between her teeth. You forgot to tell her that she was actually the first one to put a dick in you.
You looked at her nodding your head and a low breathy ‘fuck’ came out from her vocal cords.
“You love the idea of your stepmom fucking you dumb, right?” She started rubbing your cheek, a fake pout formed on her face while her tip was rubbing your slit roughly.
And without warning she split you with the head of her cock, a scream escaped your lips and you held onto her shoulder for dear life.
“Y-Yujin” your eyes were shut tightly while you tried to bear the pain that came with her cock, blood dripped down to her balls. She looked at it, never knowing fucking her virgin stepdaughter would be this hot.
Her hips rutted against yours, her fat cock filled you up to the complete brim, her balls slapping against your ass with every pound. With every thrust it felt like she was rearranging your insides, you felt her in your stomach, and when you touched your lower abdomen, you felt the bump.
She put her other hand on top of yours. “You feel me baby? I’m right here!”
The squeeze of your gummy walls was enough to make her feel her climax. She gripped your waist harshly before fucking you onto her dick, your lower region meeting roughly. The way your boobs jiggled with every animalistic thrust she took was sending making her orgasm approach quicker. She obviously can’t cum before you so her hand found your clit and started rubbing its so sweetly but the pressure was enough to make your release splash out of you.
That was so fucking hot and thick ropes of cum shoot straight to your womb.
“Imagine your mom walking in on us! You’d like it, won’t you?” She gave one of her signature smug face, before pulling out. The way your cunt lips were spilling her cum and was now covering your thighs was enough to make her hard again, but she should control herself!
She grabbed a towel and cleaned you up, peppering every mark she left on your delicate skin with kisses before applying oil on it. She tucked you in bed, your naked back against her chest, and her nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent!
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bonny-kookoo · 3 months
Text
Jungkook
Princess | Short #1
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There's something happening between you two.
Tags/Warnings: Wolfdog Hybrid!Jungkook, Showdog Hybrid!Reader, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Fluff?, Brat!Reader, Jungkook has major brat tamer energy, reader has some issues
Length: 1.6k words
A/N: I will force feed you this AU and you will like it 👿
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
Despite Jungkook having agreed to help you, he still continues to work on that choreography the same way as before, ruthlessly pushing you further and further despite your very much constant complains.  
Apparently, according to him, it’s not about the whole contest anymore. But instead, to teach you ‘something’. What it is, he won’t say- but you’re sure that’s all just an excuse anyways to torture you.  
But you’re not going down so easily.  
“How many times do I need to tell you that you have your own snacks?!” Jungkook complains, showing the empty bag of crackers to you, at the sight of which you simply sit in the middle of the practice room, tail happily wagging as if you don’t even know what he’s talking about. “And I’m sure you drank my water too.” He accuses, and you just shrug.  
“Maybe.” You answer. “The crackers sucked though. Way too bland. Do you always just eat old people snacks?” You question, irritating him further. It’s clear that you’re testing your boundaries with him, and most of all his patience- because lets be real, its funny as hell to make him angry. Mostly because you know he’d never actually get too upset with you- if he was to ever do so, you’re sure he’d give you a fair warning way before that line has actually been stepped over.  
Though, clearly, you’ve not really realized yet that you two have actually become closer up until this point- and that also means that Jungkook no longer tries to stay as far away as he can from you.  
So when he returns to the practice room with new snacks of his own and a bottle of sweet electrolyte juice, you’re already up on your feet, happily looking what he’s got himself- before he suddenly takes off his hoodie, catching you entirely off guard and freezing you in place for a good second, because wow. 
He’s got an extensive collection of art beneath the skin of one of his arms up to his hand even, and his physique is definitely also not to be played around with. Years of serious dancing and working out have clearly created the man he is today-  
And suddenly, your world is dark for a good second, as he pushes his hoodie over your head.  
You’re confused, when he suddenly pulls on the sleeves your arms are not yet pulled through, as he instead ties them behind your back, successfully immobilizing you. He picks you up and sits you in one of the chairs after he's done, leaning in close once you're seated, summoning the audacity to smirk at you.  
“Timeout, you gremlin.” He tells you, before he sits down next to you to eat his food, all while you can’t do anything but watch, wide eyed and completely confused.  
And instead of arguing, you just pull in your legs after toeing off your shoes, pouting to yourself while enjoying his scent. You’d never openly admit it, but he does smell nice- both the laundry detergent he uses for his clothes, and, well, his own scent. You blame it on the fact that throughout your career until now, you’ve barely had any close interaction with another male hybrid like this- so it’s probably just the fact that you’re not used to this.  
“Take it off.” You demand, and he shakes his head.  
“Nop.” He denies, and you swing your legs on the chair as you’ve let them fall down again.  
“I need to go pee.” You tell him, and at that he sighs, before he unravels the sleeves- 
Just for you to slip your hands through them, and steal his bottle of juice as you run into the hallway, hearing his footsteps loudly right behind you, hand having slapped against the door you’d tried to swing close behind you. You don’t get very far when he suddenly grabs the back of the sweater, pulling you closer again to try and lift you. “No- No no, I really need to go pee!” You deny, standing in front of him now after having avoided his grip.  
“Alright, let’s go then.” He says, grabbing the hood of the sweater to drag you to the restrooms, taking the bottle away from you. “Go pee.” 
“I don’t have to anymore.” You say, and he narrows his eyes at you.  
“Too bad.” He denies. “Go squeeze something out, I’m not gonna take you again.” He threatens, and you reluctantly go anyways, before you re-emerge, glaring at him, until you have an idea. He watches as you stand in front of him, putting on your best puppy-dog eyes, and holding your arms out upwards to him. “What.” He asks, arms crossed.  
“Carry me?” You ask, and he thinks about it for a good second, before he agrees.  
“Alright.” He nods. 
“Wait, really?!” You ask, surprised- when suddenly, your world is upside-down, with him carrying you over his shoulder, one arm holding onto your legs so you don’t tip over and fall off his back. And he hears you laugh about it most of all, your fluffy, curled tail wagging right into his face if it wasn't for his other hand holding it down as well, his own lips turned into a smile.  
Because honestly, this is what your life is supposed to be like. Happy, fun, and most of all, normal.  
It’s clear to him that you’ve simply never really had any proper interactions before that could’ve taught you how to socialize and get used to general manners- if anything, you most likely always got what you wanted just to have you shut up and be quiet. And eventually, when you grew up into an adult that you are now, things simply had gotten stuck like this. 
The reason why he thinks this, is just how.. Helpless you seem at the simplest of interactions. From simple questions about your hobbies, to normal touches like a hug for a greeting, everything appears to be foreign to you. And you mask that insecurity and lack of understanding with attitude- because up until now, most likely, this must’ve been your best defense. Everyone would leave you alone if you got cranky, and so, these days, you must feel extremely confused and without any direction, considering that this doesn’t work with him.  
But you’ve got to learn. Not just basic manners, but also the fact that not everyone in the world is out to get you.  
Especially not him.  
Back in the practice room, you’re now on his lap, where he’s got your hands behind your back, held by your wrists in his hand, grip strong. “We gotta practice.” You whine, but he knows that’s not what you’re going to do once he lets go.  
“We do.” He agrees. “And we will, once you’ve finished your tantrum.” He tells oyu, and you scoff.  
“I’m not having a tantrum. You’re being an asshole!” You tell him. “Who cares if I eat your snacks? You can just get new one’s!” You complain, and he shakes his head at that.  
“It’s not about that. What’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is yours. If I want to take something from you, I’ll ask. If you want something from me, you’ll have to ask as well.” He explains, and you kick out your legs, trying to get off- but he’s got a strong hold on you, so you’re stuck in place.  
“I’m not a child!” You bark, slipping off of his legs to instead lay on the floor now. He raises a brow.  
“You’re sure acting like one.” He says, crossing his arms. “Don’t you have boundaries that you’d like respected?” He asks, looking down at where you’re laying on the floor at his feet, and you stare at him for a second with an unsure gaze, before you slowly sit up, eyes glossy. It’s obvious that sentence must’ve hit a sore spot for you, because you’re visibly fighting another emotional outburst as you try and swallow down any tears that want to escape.  
It’s quiet. Mostly because you don’t want to break down, and he doesn’t want to say anything that might set you off. He hates seeing you like this- but he knows that one way or another, you’ll have to face these things.  
“I’ll respect any boundary you give me.” He tells you. “I promise you that. But you’ll have to do the same for me, because that’s fair, right?” He asks, and you take in a deep breath, before you lean against his leg, head resting against his thigh.  
“I’m sorry.” You mumble quietly, and he reaches out to out a comforting hand on your head. “I’ll be more fair.” You say, and he smiles.  
“Thank you.” He offers, before you look up at him.  
“Can we practice more now?” You ask, and he shrugs.  
“If you want to.” He says, and you nod.  
“It’s.. Actually fun. If you don’t nag all the time.” You playfully argue, making him roll his eyes.  
“I’m just trying to get you to do your best.” He denies, and you smile brightly at that, tail wagging on the floor, a sight he’s come to really like.  
“Thank you.” You say, and for the first time, he has to admit- 
You can actually be really fucking cute, if you want to be. 
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multi-fandom-imagine · 4 months
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you writing for choso now? how about a first kiss scenario? like i get the feeling choso's never kissed anyone before so it would be cute if he was too shy to kiss reader on the lips, so he just kisses her on the cheek instead... at least, he does, until reader turns her head and steals his first real kiss~
A/n: 110000% Yes! Ugh this is so fucking cute.
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It was strange, Choso never thought he could fall for someone quickly but here he was. Following you around like some puppy. Adverting his gaze from you, a small sigh left his lips as he took a step towards you. Your name spilled from his lips as he nervously grasped your hand.
He wanted to kiss you but he's never done anything like this before. Maybe he shouldn't, maybe he should just settle for a kiss on the cheek. That was a lot less intimidating.
"What is it Choso?" You had a bright smile on your face as you looked him over, he just so cute. You couldn't help feel the urge to kiss him but you did not want to give the poor man a heart attack.
Biting his tongue, he shifted his weight as he started to lean in to kiss your cheek only to meet your lips as you turned to him.
Though it was brief, he could still feel the softness of your lips. Swallowing, he frowned as he took a step back as he started to sputter out an apology.
A small giggle escaped your lips as you grasped his hand as you took a step closer to him. "You don't need to apologize Choso. I've been hoping you'd kiss me." You confessed.
Still blushing, Choso adverted his gaze as he gave your hand a small squeeze. "Really?"
Humming you nodded your head as you stood on your toes. "Hmm, now let me give you a proper kiss okay."
Swallowing thickly, Choso nodded his head as he bent down to meet you for a kiss and it was even better than the first. Your lips were so soft, the kiss was so gentle. Despite how nervous he was feeling, he still let his hand clutch yours then once the kiss was broken he sighed resting his head against your own.
"Thank you."
Shaking your head you placed one hand against his cheek. "You don't need to thank me Choso, I like you, I like you a lot."
Giving you a timid smile he let his arm weave around your waist tugging you in close. "Does it mean I can kiss you more?"
Laughing, you shook your head quickly hiding your face in his chest. Peering up at him you then gave him a shy smile. "It does."
Grinning, feeling more confidant than before he bent down to give you another kiss. He was never going to tire of this.
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ghostlyangels1204 · 2 months
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Simon would make a good dog dad- that's it, that's where my mind is rn <3
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“Absolutely not”.
Price was full of shit. That much he knew. And with this new bright idea, Simon’s new concern had been confirmed. His Captain had absolutely gone mad. One too many bumps on the head, he reasoned, had dealt too much damage- pair that with his ‘old age’, and Simon considers sending him to a care home.
There was no doubt in his mind- he was not having a slobbering, shitting furry nuisance by his side 24/7. What the hell was Price thinking? “I don’t need no’ furry mongrel. I’m a soldier not a dog walker Cap’.”, “The K9 handler’s wife just gave birth- fella needs time off, so I thought, why not give her to the softest soldier I know?” He knew Price was pulling his leg. “Just give it a week, eh Si? Seven days and if you want rid of her, she’s gone and some other poor sod can have her to cuddle at night.”
He stares down at the puppy, no more than a few months old, who is happily chomping down on the laces of the captain’s boots. Looking up, he meets the eyes of Price, “If it shits in my boots once, I’m handing it to you personally.”
The first few days went as expected, Simon wanted to die.
4am scratching at the door to go potty. Stealing his boxers when he needed to get dressed, (Johnny took extra entertainment at that one- even forming an alliance with the puppy to hide his clothes from him during his shower- he got two weeks of cleaning the barracks for that one), and she seemed to have a special fixation on everyone’s shoe laces, nipping and tugging at the cotton until blood flow was cut-off from them being wound too tight. He wasn’t made for the level of patience required. Sure, he had to deal with new recruits daily- their brazen, ‘-I-know-it-all’ attitudes that would someday get them killed… but shouting at them would result in at least a modicum of change.
That result cannot happen as easily with dogs.
But Price began to notice a shift. The team sat down for dinner, exhausted after a hell of a long day of drills. One person was missing from the table, however, Simon. They reasoned that he must be showering or something. But when he enters the mess hall, they notice the ‘small sergeant’ by his side- head bopping up and down as she patters next to her foster handler. He sits down with a huff, and she dives down under the table, spinning in circles before curling up next to Simon’s feet. She rests her head on the toe of his boots before closing her eyes.
“She needed a run around- little mutts’ wound up. Won’t sleep tonight if I don’t tire her out…”
The rest of the men smirk to themselves- Price always knew to trust his intuition.
And when day seven came around, Simon didn’t mention anything. Price knew he never forgets anything, so he was actively avoiding it. Avoiding having to admit he maybe, just maybe… liked having her around. He knocks twice on his office door, a gruff, “come in” allowing him to enter the Lieutenant’s space. Price does a quick scan of the room, eyes landing on the prize.
She’s cuddled up on a bed Simon had ordered for her, the pastel pink standing out like a sore thumb in Simon’s dull, grey office. The bed is nicer than his own, two blankets decked out with floral patterns covering the pillowy surface, a small teddy bear tucked under her chin as she sleeps the evening away.
One look is all Price needs, his eyes plead both, “Don’t even start,” with, “Please don’t make me give her up.”
“Made a friend?” Price teases, opting for a softer approach. He has no intent of taking her away, just wants his soldier to admit, that maybe he in fact, was wrong.
 “Like you wouldn’t believe…”
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Word Count: 662
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exhaslo · 6 months
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Kinktober Day 16- Miguel x Villian!Reader (Bondage)
*Requested by reader ;) *
        The age of heroes was long gone, therefore you thought it was safe to play the part of a villain. Not really a villain, per se, you were a thief. Upon reading about how glorious the past thieves and villains were, you wanted to give your life a new thrill. Taking upon the name of, 'Black Cat', you dedicated your nights to stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, or sometimes to your pockets. Which ever gave you more of a high.
"Ohhhhhh, look at those earrings she is wearing! I'm sure she won't notice if I take them~"
"I'm sure she will,"
"No she-Ah!"
        You yelped away from the window, wondering who was talking to you. To your surprise, it was a tall muscular man in a suit. This must have been the big scary Spiderman that everyone was talking about. Your eyes wandered from his head to his toe. He was much finer than the stories you heard. Ain't no way a man like that was single. You swore a lightbulb appeared above your head. There was something new to steal now.
"Don't believe we've officially met, I'm Black Cat, but you can call me Kitty." You said with a wink.
"Gatita? (kitty?)" He repeated. 
        You nearly gasped. He was Spanish too, one of your many weaknesses in a man! Holding your chest, you nearly stumbled. What would happen if you just surrounded yourself to him? Spiderman was a hero, perhaps you can taint him!
"Wow, that just rolls right off the tongue-ahem, anyway, there's no way such a big hero like yourself is here to stop lil ol' me from stealing some earrings, right?"
"No. Just patrolling and saw a shady figure looking to break in."
"I am not shady!" You said with a huff and approached him, "But, I'll be a good kitty tonight and go home. Maybe if we meet again, I can be good to you~" You purred, trailing your finger against his chest.
        You quickly left with a wide grin against your lips. Oh he was so toned! You casually glanced back, hoping that your flirting was good enough. It had been a while since you did something so bold. Well, the mask sure helped.
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        Miguel just stood there, wondering what had just happened. Normally he wouldn't let such petty thieves get away without teaching them a lesson, but then again, you didn't steal anything yet. That, and Miguel had not been flirted with in such a long time that he was in shock. Your casual touch against his skin made him tense. You called yourself a good kitty for him. That was something he was going to think about all night.
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        As luck would have it, you kept bumping into Spiderman. It was always whenever you were going to steal something petty or for yourself. Never when it was for others. It made you wonder if he was watching what you were stealing. If so, where would he draw the line? It felt like your flirting was working because Spiderman had started to flirt back! Oh, you nearly dropped on your knees the first time he said something so proactive! You nearly folded right then and there for him!
"Not yet, (y/n)! You need to think!"
"(Y/n)? What a pretty name," Spiderman said with a hum. You let out a whine as your cat claws stroked down the wall you were about to climb,
"You're so mean to me!" You teased, facing the tall man, "Are you going to look me up when you get home, huh Spidey?"
"Now why would I want to look up criminals?" He drew closer to you, "Unless you want me too?"
"Tsk, tsk, this kitty won't like that. This game has to be fair."
"I don't play games with thieves." Spiderman hummed lowly, his hand pressed against the wall as he hovered over you, "Now what were you trying to steal this time?" He asked.
        You gave him your best pout, trying to act innocent. Why was this man so attractive!? If only you can match a face with that sexy voice of his. You bit you lower lip as you took notice of the position you were in. This was straight out of a comic book! Argh, if only you weren't restricted by his mask. You would totally kiss him!
"Why don't I let you guess?" You placed a hand against his chest, "If you guess correctly, I'll reward you~"
"I don't play games with-"
"Boo! Perhaps next time you can play with this kitty. I'm flexible~" You whispered in his ear before dashing off.
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        Miguel inhaled deeply as he watched you scurry off. He kept saying that he did not play games with criminals, yet here he was, letting you run off. Like a game of cat and mouse, only he was a Spider. Miguel groaned lowly as your last words repeated in his mind. Next time he might want that reward you were tempting him with. Next time, he might stop playing games and catch you...Just to see how flexible you really were. It all depends on how you were going to be and what you were going to steal.
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        This was it! This was really going to test your flirting skills with Spiderman. You might be going too far, but hell, this was for your own amusement. You wanted to steal Spiderman for yourself. Such a fine man deserved to be yours. You could not go to bed without thinking of him being intimate with you. You wanted him! Chuckling to yourself, you stared at the adult store in front of your, waiting for Spiderman to appear.
"What are you doing, gatita?" Spiderman said with a hesitant sigh. You smirked towards him,
"What? Can't even steal myself some relief? I'm tired of being a good kitty~"
"Rel-" Miguel stopped himself, feeling that thin line slowly breaking, "You don't need that."
"Awe~ Why not?" You slowly approached Spiderman, "Remember that game last time? Guess what I'm going to steal and I'll reward you? Well, it will be an extra sweet reward~"
"Fuck," Oh, you weren't expecting that, "I'm done playing games."
        Before you can whine, you yelped as Spiderman fired his webbing towards you. You gasped as both of your hands were stuck to the building. Spiderman drew closer to you, webbing your hands more firmly so your claws couldn't break you free.
"You've been a bad, gatita. I'm going to have to punish you after all," His voice was low and raspy. Did you actually succeed?
"Oh? And how are you-ah~"
        You gasped once more as Spiderman started to rub his fingers against your cunt. The fabric causing a burning friction. You tried to close your legs, but Spiderman raised them and webbed them to the wall as well. This was an embarrassing position! You were completely caught in his web.
"Miguel," He whispered, trailing his fingers against the rip of your pants, "(Y/N), if you want relief so badly, then I'll give it to you."
        Shit, this was actually happening. You felt yourself grow wetter just by him telling you his name. At least now you had something to yell out. Muffling a moan, you whined as Miguel lowered your pants. The bottom half of his mask disappeared as he brought his tongue to your wet pussy. Your eyes widen as your saw fangs. So those rumors were true. Before you could ask him about them, you let out a loud moan as he licked your folds.
"M-Miguel!" You yelped in shock. Miguel just looked up at you thru his mask, licking your wet folds in the process,
"You can't lick yourself here, gatita, so I will." His voice vibrated throughout your body, causing you to shiver in delight.
        You tried to arch your back as he wiggled his tongue all over your pussy. A burning sensation traveling all over your body to your cunt. His hands stroking your legs, making you more sensitive. Miguel raised his head slightly, sucking against your clit. You cried out, feeling your growing pleasure. You felt his smirk as he slid his hand over your cunt, sliding two of his large digits inside of you. That was your final straw as you cam against his hand.
        You whined once more as Miguel kept fucking his fingers into your throbbing pussy, not giving you a chance to rest. His tongue still against your clit, eagerly sucking and licking. This was actually happening. Spiderman was fucking you. Trembling as Miguel curled his finger's inside you, you started to grind your hips against his hand. This was much better than whatever toy you were going to steal. Another gasp came out of you as Miguel started to pump his fingers faster. You wanted these webs off.
"C-Come on, Spidey, I-I'll be a good, ah, kitty, lemme g-go~" You begged, feeling another orgasm forming. Miguel looked at you, freeing your abused clit,
"Don't like it when you're trapped in my web?" He asked, bringing his fangs against your neck, "Gotta tie up criminals. Including bad gatitas." He whispered, sucking against your neck.
        Your whines got tuned out by your moans since Miguel pumped his fingers into your g-spot. Your vision blurred for a second as you cam once more. Miguel removed his fingers, giving them a lick as he freed his large cock. Pre-cum already dripping from his tip. You were brought back to your senses once you laid eyes on it. How was that going to fit? There was no way you could move either.
"Awe, is my gatita scared?" Miguel teased, pressing the tip of his cock against your soaked pussy, "Why don't I give you a reward for not stealing anything?"
"Mhm-Miguel...It's...too hn...b-big," You stuttered, trembling as he slowly slid his cock inside your gummy walls, "D-Does y-your training...including...d-dick growth?" 
"Hah," Miguel almost let out a rare laugh. 
        You wanted to say you were joking, but you weren't. Miguel was so big and thick. You were shaking as you felt your pussy stretch like never before. It hurt at first, but this position was making you adjust quickly. You were spread out like a damn butterfly. Thank god there were no cameras or nearby people. You flung your head back, moaning as you felt his tip hit your cervix. Who knew Spiderman had such a big dick. Who knew it would even fit inside you!
"Fuck, look at that. What a good gatita." Miguel groaned lowly.
        You whined softly as you felt your walls squeeze him. Miguel leaned in to kiss you before beginning his rough thrusts. Your eyes widen as you moaned into the kiss, surprised by his strength. You felt him fuck the breathe right out of your throat. With each thrust, Miguel bruised your cervix. He held your hips, climbing onto the wall to fuck you deeper. If only you could hold onto him. You felt so vulnerable in this position, unable to move. It was like you were just his fuck toy.
        You swore you saw stars as Miguel made you cum again. He grunted as his cock started to get a white ring from your juices. He quicken his pace, causing you to moan from overstimulation. How many more orgasms' was this man going to draw out of you. You started to feel dizzy, but you didn't want him to stop. Hearing another grunt, Miguel held your waist tighter, almost piercing it with his talons. He slammed his dick into you harshly, pouring his cum into your womb.
"That's right, good gatita's like their milk." Miguel panted softly. You just trembled,
"A-Ah~" You moaned lowly, feeling his hot load fill you.
        Miguel waited a moment before pulling out. He watched as a mixture of his cum and your juices rolled down your legs. He freed you from his webbing and fixed your suit. Glancing up at the building before you, he smirked under his mask,
"I'll let you steal just one thing from that store, but I'll have to punish you again." He whispered in your ear, holding your waist close to his. Your body leaned against his, unable to think straight,
"Do you like seeing this kitty all tied up?"
"I'd be lying if I said no."
"Then I'll reward my precious hero and grab more bondage...That doesn't involve sticky webs." You whined, still removing his webs from your suit. Miguel smirked, biting against your neck as he rubbed your pussy again,
"But you enjoy these sticky webs." He poked against your hole, causing you to melt under his touch,
"L-Lemme steal...mhm...something first."
"Yes, my good little gatita."
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byunbqbes · 1 year
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WHEN THEY HAVE A CRUSH ON THEIR DESKMATE
ft. kageyama, atsumu, iwaizumi
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Kageyama
the little milk packets start appearing on an unsuspecting tuesday afternoon, after school
you've been nodding off the whole day in school so you went to the toilet to rinse your face and freshen up
but when you return, a packet of milk sits at the corner of your desk
you're even more confused when a packet of milk appears again the day after, and the day after that, AND all the days after that
one day, you decide to confide in your (cute) deskmate kageyama and ask him if he has seen anybody entering your classroom to secretly give you milk these days
kageyama is IMMEDIATELY blushing and spluttering, "err, m-maybe you have a secret admirer?"
he's internally screaming - is he giving away too much? what if you find out? he's definitely not ready -
turns out he has nothing to worry about. you have hired him for your brand new mission: CATCHING YOUR SECRET ADMIRER !!
not your brightest moment 😭😭
not that kageyama has anything against that! he gets to spend significantly more time with you and he's slowly learning about your favourite snacks
so instead of one packet of milk, you're starting to receive one pack of milk AND your favourite bar of chocolate
the bar of chocolate is coincidentally the brand that you mentioned to kageyama before
now you have growing suspicions of kageyama tobio, your fellow detective in mission
your suspicions are confirmed on an unsuspecting tuesday afternoon, after school
you're returning from the toilet quickly, rushing off for extracurriculars, then you're seeing this familiar figure with a mop of black hair outside your classroom
this boy is gripping onto homemade cookies a little too hard and breathing a bit too hard
you narrow your eyes and rush up to him, "kageyama? don't you have volleyball right now?"
kageyama quickly hides the cookies behind his back and stutters out, "i - practice hasn't started..."
you're about to leave it at that but something made you wink at him, teasing, "oh, and by the way, did i mention that i like cookies? especially homemade chocolate chip ones"
then he's blurting out, "ilikeyoualot"
you: "what did you say?"
Atsumu
when Atsumu has a crush on you, the WHOLE world AND their mothers will know
well,,, the whole world,,,except you apparently
he can literally ask, "go out with me?" while leaning into you and tucking stray pieces of your hair behind your ear
and you'd just be scoffing, "ha. that's funny, atsumu."
does the thing where he ignores all his fangirls - he ONLY has eyes for you
he's literally ALWAYS staring openly at you
on one of the days, he notices you scrambling around for your history book
he immediately puts his textbook on your table
Atsumu gets scolded by your teacher for you
he definitely nudges you in the middle of class and make you play tic tac toe with him
or draws the worst renditions of your teachers and makes you snicker in class
you're so used to his presence and the smell of his laundry when he leans in too close that on days he's absent from volleyball competitions, you feel...weirdly sad.
and then he's suddenly back and begging you to tutor him
Atsumu gets to be tutored by the smartest girl in class while he takes this opportunity to stare at you - it's a win for him
when he sees the way you furrow your brows and stick your tongue out in concentration, reality is suddenly hitting him HARD
he really has to ask you out properly some time very soon.
can't risk losing you to some other mf lol
Iwaizumi
your shy little desk neighbour
has the cutest blush on his cheeks when you steal his stationery
the 3rd years know about his little crush on you
"SO WHEN IS OUR IWA-CHAN GOING TO ASK HIS DESKIE OUT --" Oikawa hollers while he gives you a wink
let's just say Oikawa got put in an immediate headlock
you're sick and absent from school one day
Iwaizumi needs to bring your homework to your house
he swears he's going to throw up from all the nerves
just imagining you in your cute teddy pjs makes his heart stutter
he literally bounces around the front of your house and takes dramatic deep breaths before he rings the doorbell
when you answer the door, Iwa is blinking helplessly at your oversized shirt and shorts
you need to clear your throat multiple times before he snaps out and stutters, "I-I'm here to pass you your work"
you give him the most breathtaking smile and ask him about his day at school
he elaborates about how boring school was and eventually holds up some vitamin gummies, saying, "these aren't much...i just saw these on the way here and -"
and your mom is interrupting Iwaizumi as her gaze jumps from you to him, "Y/N! How dare you hide your boyfriend from your family! C'mon in!"
as she beckons him over, you and Iwaizumi are left blinking at each other
🌷 reblogs are very appreciated!!
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fortunelowtier · 25 days
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Ghostbusters Frozen Empire AU where Melody stays in the living world as a ghost and becomes part of the firehouse crew. Shes a ghost so she can interact with other ghosts physically and she uses this to fight Slimer from time to time like he's some feral raccoon in the attic eating their snacks because Trevor brought up how he keeps stealing them
Phoebe working on her pack at like 1am (She's a Spengler, being a workaholic is in her blood) and suddenly she hears crashing from the attic followed by Melody screaming "GET YOUR OWN TRASH" and Slimer grumbling
Or maybe every now and then she goes to the mayors office to fuck with Peck for the fun of it just to keep him on his toes and he is about 20 seconds away from having a heart attack at any given moment because of it. Ray reading the news talking about how city hall might be haunted and he looks at Phoebe like "you wouldn't happen to know anything about this would you"
THERE'S SO MANY FUN POSSIBILITIES LOL I LOVE IT
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meowhara · 6 months
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Mafia!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader
tw : abuse, mistreatment, usage of bad languages, death, kidnapping
synopsis : In a world where hybrids are becoming a common thing. Scientists sells their experiments for a very high price in auctions, making it possible for anyone with such kind of money to own a hybrid or even more
author's note : OMG! this will be my very first fanfic ever. I hope y'all enjoy this little fanfic I made in such a very short time. I'm so so sorry if there's anything wrong with my grammars or maybe you got confused by how I write things in general. English isn't my first language :)
𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓷𝓮, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝔀𝓸, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮
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Experimenting with human beings are normal by now all around the world, making hybrids one of the most expensive and valuable assets. They're usually sold with a very high price in auctions, anyone who's able to lay a hand on those hybrids must be some very crazy rich and lucky people.
You're those kind of fine breed, sold for an unbelievably high price. But sadly luck wasn't on your side due to how irresponsible your new owner is. He never took care of you like how people should took care of hybrids. He abandoned you, feeding you poorly, using you only for your small and fragile body. Treating you like an animal and make you do his daily chores such as cooking, cleaning, and even doing his laundry. But you never complain, there's nothing you can do and nowhere to escape.
You don't even know how the hell he was able to purchase you from the auction since he doesn't even look like a wealthy man at all. Who's job is only to sell and purchase drugs from here and there then spend shit ton of money for women and other useless things. He woke up late at the day just to hurt you then leave and came back late at night. Sometimes he didn't even bother to come back home, leaving you hungry and lonely inside his small and packed house in the middle of nowhere.
For the past moths he has been stealing drugs from Mafia!Miguel. Miguel tried to track him down for months without any avail and lost him every single time. After learning your owner's pattern for months, he's finally able to caught him off guard.
But the bastard ran back home and hide just before Miguel catch him. Your owner ran back home and locked the doors, telling you to shut the fuck up if anyone come over to look for him and to not tell his whereabouts.
Miguel is one step ahead this time and he's able to track your owner's house. He then banged on the door which made you jumped in surprise. "Open the damn door, you bastard! I know you're inside." He shouted as he kept banging on the door with his men following and standing by behind him, guns in their hands.
Innocently, you walk over the door and open the door slightly ajar and peeked outside just to met his eyes. Miguel was shocked when his eyes met with your big vulnerable eyes and fluffy bunny ears, looking almost as if you're pleading with a small pout on your face. "Yes?" You said shyly with shaky voice. Miguel looks back at his men in confusion then look back at you. "Hello, little one. Is there anyone inside?" He asked, trying to be less intimidating and as friendly as possible in order not to scare you. You hesitated to answer but you shook your head anyway, since it's seems like the only safe answer to give. He examines your beautiful and small figure from head to toe just to find bruises everywhere then to your dirty clothes that you're wearing. You look up at him with tired eyes and flat expression, making you look like a broken doll.
Miguel is not buying your obvious lie. "Are you sure? You look... Tired. Are you okay?" He asked again. You just nod and rush to close the door but Miguel stopped you from doing so. He grabbed on the door and push it back open, making you stumbling back from the force. "Look, I don't want to hurt you. But I need to take a look inside, okay?" He gave signals to his men to search the house for your owner.
He didn't expect you to panic and starts shouting at him "No! Please! Master will get mad." You said as your eyes starts to well in tears, "He'll hit me and lock me up in the basement again..." You said while sobbing and pulling on his sleeve. Miguel can feel his heart breaking into pieces from how adorably you cried in front of him. As he wanted to hug you and calm you down, his men came back and drags your owner with them. He got a black eye on his right eye due to a hard blow given by Miguel's men right on his face when he tried to run away. They throw him on the floor to force him to get on his knees in front of Miguel.
When your eyes met his you ran towards your master in worry. "Master! Are you okay?" You got on your knees to check on him, even if he's a very cruel and irresponsible master you can't help but feel worried of him getting hurt. But instead of getting any answer back from him, he gave you a very hard and strong punch on the face. You stumbled back in shock and whimpers in pain as you cover your face with your palms from the fear and pain. "You useless bitch! I told you not to let them in!" As he's about to hit you again, Miguel stepped forward to protect you and kick that bastard's stomach with full force in anger. He still couldn't believe that a little angle like you would care so much about a devil like him.
He groans in pain from Miguel's kick and Miguel turned to look at you as you bleed from your nose and cry on the floor. Your owner look up at Miguel then at you "Oh I see what this is all about now. You like her don't you? Fine then, take her away as a compensation. She is a very fine and expensive hybrid." He said with a low chuckle as he gave you a dirty look. "Use her as a cock sleeve or just do anything you like at her, let all of your anger out at her as if she's a punching bag. You won't ever hear a peep out of her mouth, she's well trained for that." Miguel can feel himself boiling in anger but his eyes won't leave your figure, no matter how hard he tried. The idea of a pretty thing like you used and abused by someone like him are just too much for him to even imagine.
Yes, he is indeed a cruel mafia leader. He killed and will kill anyone who got in his way without any remorse or hesitation and punish those who got on his nerves. But seeing how a pure little thing like you getting such a horrible treatment without you deserving any of it, made him feel sick to the pit of his stomach. He got too deep into his thought as he pull a gun out from his pocket without realizing and thinking it through then shot your owner right at his face as you watch the scene in front of you in horror.
The bastard died instantly, his body made a loud thud noise when it hit the floor and blood starts to stain the carpet underneath. Your eyes widened as tears streams down your cheek. Miguel then turned and walks towards you slowly but you stood up and ran away as fast as you can towards your master's bedroom and lock yourself while crying. His men look at Miguel, waiting for his next order. "I'll talk to her." He said with a loud sigh.
He starts knocking at the door, "Little one, please open the door. I won't hurt you I promise." You starts to panic "No go away! Leave me alone! You just killed my master!" You shouted back. Deep down you know that you should be glad that Miguel had killed your master but that makes you feel powerless, knowing that Miguel is capable of hurting anyone let alone killing them.
"I have to okay? He got on my nerves and worse, he hurt you." He spoke again from the other side of the door. "You know nothing about me!" Tears starts to fall even faster from your eyes as the image of your master's dead body kept playing in your head. "Just open this door so I don't need to force it open myself." He said, starting to get frustrated by your behavior.
You ignores him and sat down in the corner of the room, hoping that he'll just go away and leave you alone. He kept knocking at the door but you refused to open it for him. "Fine you won't open this door? I'll have to force it open then." He said before he starts banging harder and harder on the door, cracking it with each of his forcefull movements against the door.
You know very well from how massive he looks that he'll break down the door easily if he wants to. You starts glancing around the room to look for something to protect yourself just incase if Miguel is trying to hurt you. You've been in this room a thousand time when your master forced you to sleep with him but you're never allowed to open his closet or drawers even when you're told to clean his room for him.
Opening the nearest drawer, you starts rummaging to find something sharp to protect yourself. To your surprise you can feel your hand brushing against a hard and cold metal. You never knew your master hid a small gun in his bedroom this whole time but now you're glad he did. Just as you get your hand on the gun the door bursts open and you yelped in surprise. You then points the gun at Miguel "Don't come any closer! Or I'll— I'll shoot you." You said hesitantly.
Miguel look at the gun in your hand with a expressionless face then walks towards you. "I— I said go away!" A step closer from Miguel means a step back from you. But he kept walking closer and ignoring the fact that you have a gun in your hands. Your back hit the wall, making it impossible for you to take another step back from him. He grabbed your hands and points the gun directly at his chest to challenge you. "Go on. Shoot me." He said menacingly. A shiver went down your spine as your hands clenches around the gun and hesitation floods your mind. You never hurt anyone before, how on earth are you going to shoot him?
Your eyes look up at him still with tears on display and your bunny ears tensed then pinned flat back behind you head in fear. Hands trembling badly as you pressed the gun deeper into his chest, not knowing what to do. "That's what I thought." He said before quickly ripped the gun from your hand easily then threw it away to the other side of the room.
You tried to run but he grabbed you wrist and threw you on the floor. "Stop making this harder on yourself." He said before crouching down to meet your eyes. "Please don't hurt me..." You begged while sobbing, hoping that he'll pity you. He just look at your face while caressing your cheek with his massive thumb. Making your face seems so much smaller compared to his hand. "To have such a pretty thing in front of me for free. How lucky of me." He continues to caress your face and admiring your beauty with the feeling of wanting to own you all to himself. Having you safe by his side in his mansion and to have you sleep by his side at night.
But his fantasy must be interrupted by his duty as a mafia leader. "Boss, it's Lyla." One of his men interrupted. "Tell her I'll be there in 10 minutes." He said with so much authority in his voice. "What about her?" His other man looked over at your vulnerable state. Your eyes are focused on Miguel, anticipating his next move. He cussed to himself and took out a syringe from his pocket. "W— what's that for?" You asked nervously. "This? Oh I bring these all the time incase if I need to take a pretty thing like you home." Miguel then cupped you face with one of his free hand and move your face to the side so he could inject your neck easier.
Your hand grabbed his hand, the one that's cupping your cheek. "I don't want this. Please just let me go." He ignores your plea and kissed your cheek softly. "Don't worry little thing, this will only hurt a little okay? Just obey and you'll be just fine." You shook your head but he injected you right away with the syringe. "Good girl." Your body starts to feel numb right away as tears continue to stream down your face. You rest your head against his chest for support. "Shhh that's it, just fall asleep for me like a good girl you are." He pulls you into a hug and starts caressing your hair this time. Your vision starts to blur as darkness starts to invade. Soon you're limp against his chest, breathing softly and peacefully.
He smiled and kissed your forehead before carrying you in his arms in a bridal style. "Let's get going, we don't want the cops to be here anytime soon." He said as he rushed towards his car with you in his arms and his men following behind him. He looked down at your unconscious form in his arms, "Sleep tight, little one."
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