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themeraldee · 4 months ago

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The Lucky Winner

[Masterlist]

18+ Only | 8.5k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Pre-season 1. Voice kink. Oral sex. Unprotected sex.

Summary: You're a huge fan of Homelander but you always feel too awkward to ever meet your hero at a meet & greet or similar events. Your friends enter you into a Vought competition, where you've got a chance to win a phone call from Homelander himself.

Author’s Note: My first Homelander fic! Also, this is the first time I’m publishing my work. Obligatory English isn’t my first language so apologies if there are any strange turns of phrase but I happily take on criticism so feel free to correct me. I want to get better! I’m also not very good with sticking to the right tense. This is very self-indulgent so read with caution.

You can’t decide whether to hug or strangle your friends. They’re trying to be nice, you get that. But this goes against everything you’d ever do! Lovely as they are, they’ve entered you into a competition to meet your hero. To meet Homelander. The thought alone makes your head spin, your heart pound and stomach twist on itself.

‘It was just 20 bucks, what’s the worst that can happen? You win?’ Reads your friend’s message. You roll your eyes, hearing the teasing tone in your head. They know about your not-so-hidden obsession and at the end of the day they just wanted to brighten their friends day.

And sure, you are a fan. Okay, fine. You’re a big fan. Obsessed even. Every-wall-of-your-bedroom adorned-with-posters-and-promotional-materials obsessed. But you don’t want to appear like that. Last thing you’d want to come across as to your idol, you hero, is an annoying screeching fan begging for his attention.

You don’t want to be part of the crowds pawing at him, inching as close as they can just to graze his uniform with their fingertips. You don’t want to look like a feral fan. You have manners. You don’t want to be just another face, just another adoring fan begging for him to look your way. It’s hard to admit to yourself that you’ll never be more than a fan. So you don’t go to meet & greets. You don’t go to premieres. You don’t pay exorbitant fees just to meet your hero.

You’re a romantic at heart. You always imagine the first meeting to be one for the books. Maybe he saves you from a burning building flying you down, his stars and stripes billowing in the wind as he looks at you with concern etched into his handsome face, his piercing blue eyes scanning you for injuries as he talks to you with a soothing rumbling tone that sends shivers down your spine. You can clearly imagine him going, Are you okay miss?, as he descends to the ground. Or you just happen to bump into each other but he catches you with his strong arms and fast reflexes and just like that it’s love at first sight. Scenarios after scenarios. All varieties of ‘meet-cute’s play in your head on a daily basis. You spend your time getting lost in your head, dreaming of the day when it will be your turn to be the protagonist of the story. When will you be the damsel in distress? But you sigh and move on with life, because this isn’t a romance novel.

Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself (and others) when people ask you why you haven't tried to meet your hero.

Oh I just don’t want to be a weird obsessive fan. Plus it’s expensive!

Meeting heroes is technically easy. Vought gives people many opportunities to see their heroes for a pretty penny. They parade their heroes around like exotic animals in a zoo on a daily basis.

For you the reality is that you simply can’t handle seeing your hero up close and personal, let alone talk to him. How are you not meant to get flustered in front of what you considered to be perfection? How are you meant to find your words or even come up with words worthy of being uttered in his presence? You’re meant to look into his eyes, tell him how much of a fan you are and not fluster and burst into tears from the anxiety coiling in your gut as you wait your turn?

You don’t want that. You don’t want to be just another babbling fan. You want to stand out. You want him to remember you. You want him to think about you. But you’re also a realist and you know that at most he’ll think you just another annoying fangirl if he even grants you a passing thought. So you spare yourself those hurt feelings and you avoid meet & greets, you avoid all the fan-targeted conventions, events, promotional campaigns or competitions.

Or you always have. Until now it seems. You again scroll up in the group chat where your friends surprised you with an entry to the newest competition Vought advertised. It was presented as a fundraiser. All proceeds are planned to be donated to Samaritan’s Embrace. A simple $20 entry that would grant you a chance to be one of five lucky winners to get a personal phone call from Homelander.

A fat chance of that, you thought when you first saw the competition announced on both Vought’s and Homelander’s twitter accounts. With a competition that invites Homelander's country-wide fanbase, there really is no chance of you winning. You half-comfort yourself with that thought. You don’t know where you’d even start should you win. Part of you thinks that maybe ‘meeting’ him over the phone could be bearable as he wouldn’t be able to witness just how badly you’re holding it together.

But then you think back to all the videos you’ve watched. The reels and the tiktoks you’ve saved. The podcasts and interviews that at this point you play almost religiously. He's perfect in every way but you're particularly fond of his voice just rumbling in your ear when it gets nice and low as he talks in lengths about the upcoming movie or his most recent save. A while back you bought yourself a decent set of noise-cancelling headphones with great audio quality and suddenly it felt like he was right behind you just purring into your ears. Very few interviews record with good enough microphones to capture how mesmerising his voice is but those that do get saved and played on repeat sending shivers down your spine, following you to bed and invading your dreams. So no, maybe a phone call wouldn’t make the experience any easier on your poor heart.

You calm down after the initial panic reaffirming yourself with the reality where there’s no chance that you’ll get picked anyway. You text your friends again, kindly thanking them for thinking of you as you shook your head with an amused smile. That’s that done and forgotten about.

Or so you think. Few weeks down the line the mental discourse has long left your mind. The conversation moves on and your friends don’t mention anything since. That’s why it’s no surprise when you pick up the unknown call after the third ring with ease, casually answering with, “Hello, Y/N speaking.”

Homelander looks through the list of winners Ashley brought to his desk with a scowl on his face. He’s grumpy, having to jump through everyone’s hoops is grating on him, slowly chipping away at his showmanship armour. This is just another nail in the coffin. Now he has to make private phone calls?

He wants to be revered, loved. With people bending over backwards just to get his attention. Sure, that’s right up his alley. Get the crowds to scream his name, be grateful for his divine presence. What he isn’t a fan of is making others think they’re special. He’s the special one. Where does Vought get off thinking that he’s got the time to call and visit his fans one-on-one.

He rolls his eyes looking through the unimpressive line-up that Vought carefully curated. One of each demographic, trying to hit all the targets Vought wants him to improve his numbers with.

Each candidate has a sheet of talking points assigned to them, things to highlight, mention or even promote to each one of the fans. Normally Homelander would throw Vought’s carefully crafted response straight back to their faces but right now he’s not in the slightest interested in being clever or the fans' idea of ‘authentic’ so he’d rather rattle off a few lines from a curated list of party lines. At the end of the day he doesn’t care for this. Talking to five individual fans doesn’t help him in the grand scheme of things. This isn’t happening in public, there’s no one here to witness his generosity. Nobody to witness a god, looking down and gracing his followers with his benevolence.

Vought believes the individual approach will be worth it in the long run. That apparently fans will come running to any future events and competitions seeing as real people they might know have won in the past. All Homelander sees is at most five twitter mentions from a few nobodys.

He’s got about an hour in the calendar to get through all of these. Though he's banking on this taking a lot less time. There are many more important things he could be doing instead.

He flips through the files again, each profile is filled out with a name, number and a photo, deciding on the least painful order. A young boy, an elderly woman, a middle aged comic enthusiast, some punk teenager and you. Homelander looks at your profile with mild interest. You’re the only one who Vought didn’t manage to find a good quality recent photo of. Clearly you don’t do social media. Yet the quality doesn’t take away from the intrigue your profile inspired. You’re easily the most interesting in the list but that’s not that hard to do. Still, Homelander puts yours at the end of the list. Saving the best for last.

“Hellooo and congratulations! This is Homelander and you’re one of the few lucky cookies who get to have a little chit chat with me.” All air gets sucked out of your lungs and the ease with which you picked up the phone is gone. Your eyes widen, breath caught in your throat only coming out in confused little stutters. This isn’t real. It can’t be!

Whether it’s a particularly vivid dream or your world is actually turning upside down you’re glad this happened at home. Your knees buckle, your ass landing straight on your bed, your legs trembling with nervous energy as you sit down.

“W-what?” You manage to blurt out, more breathy than not. Your heart is pounding like never before. You wouldn’t be surprised if he can hear it over the phone, it feels loud to your ears.

“The competition? You entered, right?” His voice. His fucking voice was right in your ear and you felt like melting into a puddle of goo. Anything to spare you the embarrassing words that are surely about to come out of your mouth one way or another.

“Oh… um…” You are blowing it. There’s no other word for it. Totally embarrassing yourself. Not able to say a word, still trying to calm your heart down.

“Are you not a fan? Have I got the wrong number–?”

“N-no no! No…I mean yes. I mean sorry…fuck.” You are totally losing it. The hand holding your phone is shaking with nervous energy.

“Hey hey hey…. Come on now. Take it easy. Now take a deep breath aaand relax.” His voice is rich and sweet like honey, just like you’ve heard on TV but here it feels intimate. Just for you. He’s not talking to anybody else. As he hears your stuttered intake of breath and a mildly calmed exhale he coos again. “That’s it. Breathe with me. Now in.” If only he knew that this is making things so much worse for you. “And out.”

“I’m so sorry. I meant to say, I am a fan but I don’t do this.” Your voice still trembles with each word but you’re a little more composed.

“What? Call people?” You can hear the smirk in his voice, he's clearly pleased with his little joke.

“No.” You can’t help yourself but chuckle, your lips spreading in a wide grin. Your heart is still pounding but it’s more excitement than embarrassment. You’re actually talking to Homelander. And you have already embarrassed yourself beyond belief but he’s still here! He’s still talking to you. He doesn’t even sound upset. “I mean I don’t meet you guys. Heroes. I don’t really know how to do this. I mean I pretty much live on your doorstep and I’ve never met either one of you.” Now that he calmed you down, getting you talking, you can’t stop talking.

“Really? Some fan you are.” Were you of a sound mind you’d hear the joke but now all you could think is that you’ve upset him. And you can’t have him think that. Sure you’ve always wanted to stand out but not in a negative way! You take it to heart and you apologize.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to offend. At all! Really! It’s just, you don’t need another person begging for an autograph that they can brag with to their friends or sell online for a quick buck.”

He exhales a little breathy laugh that has your whole body flush hot. “Oh, aren’t you adorable.” The panic that was inflating in you like a hot air balloon finally fizzled out. Instead it’s replaced by a throbbing heat in between your legs and you place your free hand over your heart, almost trying to will your body into behaving normally. “You know if you want I can send you some, would be a shame for such a sweet fan to not have anything personalised. I’ll sign it with your name.” He offers, a nice gesture, really, but you are currently having a whole body meltdown to even appreciate it for what it was.

“O-oh,that isn’t—You don’t have to—”

He continues nonetheless.

“Y/N, is it? Beautiful name.” Your name rolls off his tongue perfectly, all soothing and sweet. And there you go, melting into a puddle just for him.

“You don’t have to be nervous. I don’t bite. At least, not over the phone.” You let your hand trail down your body. He’s just talking. He’s just making jokes. He’s just trying to strike up a conversation to make such a freaked out fan of his a little calmer and there you are getting your rocks off on this.

“Sorry. It’s hard not to be. I’ve been a fan of yours for a long while. I didn’t expect I’d ever get to talk to you. It’s kind of you to do things like this for us fans. I’m sure you’re busy. Thank you for taking the time.” You distract yourself from the throbbing that’s just calling for your hand to settle heavily in between your shaking thighs.

“Oh no problem. Wouldn’t be where I am if it wasn’t for all my loyal fans, right?” You should really stop moving your hand down your body. But you can’t help the effect he has on you, you’re not acting normal!

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s the fame that makes you special. It’s you.” You breathe you all dreamy before realising this isn’t just one of your fantasies. No. You really are talking to Homelander. You cough a little, pretending like you had something stuck in your throat.

“It is?”

“I think so. Change into civilian clothing and I’m sure you’ll still be turning heads.” You speak normally now but you bite your lip at the end, your hand now just above your pubic bone.

“Sounds like you’ve thought about this plenty.” Oh, of course you have. Your body is screaming at you to take the plunge, to slip your hand down your panties, and make yourself feel like this is more than just a friendly fan call. But your mind is, correctly, telling you that this is beyond inappropriate.

“Ah no! I just mean that you’re perfect at what you do. There’s nobody like you. Noone could take your spot. So it’s more than just fans.” You’re surprised you’re still carrying on. You feel like your brain is turning into mush with each word he’s saying.

“What can I say? I take my job very seriously.” He goes on to talk about being a leader of the Seven, you guess he’s just trying to fill space seeing as you’re such a blubbering mess. Even with all his efforts at making this normal, your brain turns all the innocent words into the filthiest dirty talk.

“Look, I’d love to talk to you some more but I’m afraid I’ll have to end it there. I’m late for a talk show interview.” You retract your hand as if it got burnt and instead you grab onto the comforter you’re sitting on, stopping yourself from doing anything impulsive.

“O-of course.” Your heart rate is elevated again, something about the thought of him leaving and you never getting the chance to speak to him again makes you want to scream.

“Tell you what, I don’t want to be unfair to you. You hardly got your prize. I’ll call you later. You free in the evening?”

“Y-yes.”

“Perfect.”

Perfect. You’re fucking perfect. Homelander can’t stop the way his lips stretch into a predatory grin. You are exactly what a fan should be like. Swooning over him. Grateful that he’s even bothering to grace you with his presence. You were practically kneeling, bent over before him on the floor, kissing his feet as he gave you a taste of his divine presence. He has half a mind to take care of the uncomfortable hard-on pressing into his rigid suit. He couldn’t help himself when you were being such a sweet little thing. He feels no remorse at having rubbed himself through his suit as you were there on the other side of the phone, undeniably shaking in excitement, all flustered and tense and most certainly aroused. But no, he wants to wait his turn. He needs the real thing. He’s not planning on letting you go that easy.

Originally he was pissed that most of his time on the phone was taken up by the elderly woman who was talking his ear off. Now he’s thinking about sending her a gift basket. He has a real excuse to see you.

When Homelander wants something he’s like a hunter, doing everything he can to lure his prey into his trap. In this case he abuses his powers to get the Crime Analytics team to dig up your address and in the meanwhile he sits through a mind-numbingly boring interview at a low-tier talk show he really shouldn’t need to waste his time on.

The only thing that keeps him going is the thought that you might be watching. You seem like a big fan. You surely wouldn’t dare miss out on his live appearances. The thought alone gives him enough drive to not laser through the talk show host everytime she asks a stupid question and instead he imagines he’s speaking straight to you.

When the show is over he takes off before his team can steer him towards another boring chore. No, he has more pressing matters to attend to. Like any good predator he observes. He waits until it’s the right time to strike. That’s why he’s perched at the top of the building that’s opposite yours. He’s got a clear line of sight to your apartment but he’s careful in making sure you can’t see him.

He watches, his grin reappearing every damn time he sees you reach your phone, checking if your ringer is on for the tenth time. You are an easy target, he can swoop in anytime and sweep you off your feet but he wants it to be perfect. With sick fascination he keeps watching you, your behaviours and patterns as you pace around your room trying to preoccupy your mind with mindless thoughts. He knows that nothing you do can now fill the void that he left behind. What else can replace the purr of his voice in your ear, soothing and exciting you at the same time. Nothing. There’s nobody like him. You said it yourself.

An hour of self-indulgent watching later he decides to end your misery. You just look so upset and disappointed and he knows you’ll just melt in his presence. He needs to be close to you. He got a little sprinkle of what you're like over the phone and now he’s got a craving for the real thing. He needs to feel you, smell you, hear your poor heart trying to keep up with the excitement right in his ear.

So with a quick drop he descends.

The day has gone by torturously slow for you. You spend every minute checking your phone in case your ringer randomly fails you and you won’t catch the second call from Homelander. Just thinking that makes your thighs quiver. The thought of having him purr into your ear any longer wets your panties all over again. But over the coming hours your enthusiasm deflates. It’s getting late and your chances of ever getting a call back are low.

You emerge from the bathroom, fresh and clean, in your pyjamas ready to sleep today’s rollercoaster of emotions away. Or you would be if it wasn’t for a knock at your balcony door interrupting your thoughts and making you flinch in surprise. The flash of red and blue still so vibrant and colourful against the midnight sky has your breath catching in your throat. What the fuck?!

You open the balcony door in shock, and if you had the strength to do so you would have ripped it off its hinges with pure eagerness. There he is in all his patriotic glory. Homelander. A wide grin on his face, posture ramrod straight as he clasps his gloved hands behind his back, puffing his chest out.

“H-Homelander?!” Your voice quivers at the proximity, your heart picks up speed again and you feel your entire body flush both in embarrassment and excitement. Your first thought goes to how you currently look rather than questioning his motives or how he even found where you live in the first place.

Trying to regain your composure you shake your head, blinking as if he was just a figment of your imagination. Maybe your devout obsession with him is finally damaging your mental state, making you hallucinate.

“Good evening, Y/N.” God, how does he do that! The way your name slips off his tongue so easily, with such familiarity makes you clench and part your lips with a gasp. Any sort of composure you’ve regained crumbling to dust. Now you are just awkwardly gawking, in awe at the unreal figure in front of you, in the flesh. Homelander doesn’t wait to be invited in, strutting into your modest apartment like it belongs to him, the confident strides of his red boots loud and heavy against the creaky floor of your apartment. He takes up the living space confidently, somehow making you feel like you don't belong in your own space. His presence took priority, anything else secondary—you included.

“How did you—” Your question of how he found where you live doesn’t even get fully asked, let alone answered. He cuts in, not actually caring about your justified worry over having your address handed out willy-nilly.

“Our call was a bit too short to my liking. You don’t mind a little late-night visit, do you?” You feel disarmed. His voice turns gravelly, lowering with each word. His tone teasing as if he was telling you a secret, so unlike his television persona where he’s all American apple pie values and open arms with clear intentions. Here, he grinned widely—all teeth with his sharp canines bared to you like the predator he is. Like you’re his next meal. “Ohohoo, would you look at this. Maybe you are my biggest fan, huh?”

You are distracted by his voice, his presence, just him that you fail to notice his eyes wandering around your apartment. Your face flushes red in embarrassment as you see him assessing your safe space, or what felt like your safe space before this ambush, all with an amused grin on his face.

“These are all limited edition. Must have cost you a small fortune.” Holding a breath you watch him take his gloves off one by one, placing the leather on your table with a soft thwack. It feels forbidden, not meant for your eyes. The public doesn’t get to see Homelander as anything other than perfect. His image manicured, perfected to the tiniest details. Seeing his surprisingly elegant bare hands, this up close feels intimate yet threatening like he’s unsheathed his sword, revealing one of the many hidden weapons he can use against you.

You watch as he brushes his fingers against limited edition action figurines, box sets, posters and trinkets featuring his likeness or the logo emblem Vought associates with him. If it was anyone else you’d tell them to keep their paws away from your most prized possessions but it's Homelander. Who else gets the right to touch special limited edition merchandise of his own likeness?

You watch as he paces the room with an unreadable expression. The embarrassment you feel transforms into an apology, heavy on your tongue as you force your mouth open, letting your shame out into the world. It’s hard not to feel overwhelmed in his presence.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” He turns his head over his shoulder with a curious expression. A swoop of his blonde hair handsomely falling into his face. He puts down one of the figurines he picked up earlier as he scouted the area.

“All this stuff.” You wave your hand around, the grand display of what can only be described as the Church of Homelander, a shrine dedicated to his divine existence. You see how it looks, how it makes you look like a rabid fan. Though you’re anything but. “I know it’s a little strange. I don’t want to make you feel like a museum piece. Or-or-or a circus animal! I just admire you. A lot.”

“You do?”

“I do.” Your breath catches in your throat as he turns around fully, facing you head on, one slow step inching towards you at a time. You gulp, feeling like you’re left in the dark regarding his intentions as you hopelessly struggle to read him. On the opposite spectrum you’re there, an open book, your heart on your sleeve, your every thought written so clearly on your face you may as well give him your diary to flip through. “More than anything.” Breathlessly you add, meeting his eyes as a challenge. You’re devout, as loyal as it gets. You’d do anything for him if he asked.

Homelander rises to your mental challenge with a grin so sharp you feel the metaphorical bite coming before he even opens his mouth as he steps closer. He’s so close now. Any ordinary man could feel the thud of your heartbeat, but to his keen senses it’s a war drum and he’s marching to a battle he’s already won. His bare, elegant hands make their way to your jaw caressing it with a surprising gentleness. You flinch. Even though you watched it happen with wide eyes, you didn’t expect his hands to leave you unmarred. You almost expect your skin to sizzle, unworthy of his divine touch.

Homelander’s grin disappears, his tongue gliding along his teeth as if he’s cleaning them before he devours his next meal. All that leaves you is a little whimper before he pulls you in, his hands thrumming with incomprehensible strength as he kisses you. He kisses the air out of your lungs as if you could survive without it like he can. As if you could meet him in the middle. But dammit you do your best to. He’s a passionate kisser, incapable of sticking to soft kisses. No, he devours. He licks your lips open, his tongue gliding along yours. You brace your hands against his chest, already feeling weak in the knees. The heat of his breath and the wetness of his tongue in your mouth is nothing compared to how hot and wet you feel in your panties.

It doesn’t help that he’s vocal. You kiss him harder anytime he growls or moans into your lips, his voice vibrating against your lips just possessing you more. And soon it turns into a game of who can dish it out harder. Each devoted kiss makes him hum and purr which in turn melts you into a pile of goo, making you kiss him harder. Your lips feel hot, swollen from the ferocious kissing. You’re nearing the limit of what your lungs can manage without resurfacing for air.

Homelander pulls away but he doesn’t give you any time to recover. As if you could. How do you recover from that? Instead he’s adamant about making your heartbeat hit record heights. His hands glide down your body, featherlight touches that make your skin break out into goosebumps as he settles on your hips, trailing the waistband of your pants. His pink wet lips spread into another predatory smile and before you know it he leans closer to your ear, practically purring, “Tell me, if I take these off will I find you wearing Homelander panties too?”

Flustered squeak escapes you as he laughs wholeheartedly at your embarrassment. You know he knows. He’s teasing you for a reason. “They’re comfortable.” You eventually grumble, pouting like a child getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“I bet they are.” He sinks down to one knee, his hands taking the waistband of your pants with him as he pulls them down over your thighs, letting the fabric pool by your ankles. He pats your ankle, prompting you to step out of them. You comply, kicking the fabric away earning a little word of praise from him. “Attagirl.” You’re visibly trembling as he kneels in front of you, his eyes locked on the sight of your blue panties with his emblem and name right across the middle in gold, all accentuated by a red trim. It would be far from sexy in any other circumstance but he purrs at the sight. All pleased like the cat that got the cream. “Got my name across your pussy all day long?”

Before you could react like any other person would, he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder. You yelp, losing your balance trying to grab onto his head or shoulders for support but he puts his arm on your back, sliding it right under your top keeping you straight and secure whether you want it or not. You’re not leaving until he says so. “Might as well fucking taste it seeing as it’s already mine, don’t you think?” He gives you a hungry look licking his lips before hoisting your other leg over his shoulder, standing up with ease. He walks you back against a wall as he eagerly inhales the scent of you, his head perfectly in between your warm thighs.

“Woah!” You stabilise yourself, finally having more surface to lean against. The fabric of your top glides along the surface of the glossy posters he has you pressed against. Making you the centerpiece, surrounding you with his likeness. You finally process what the fuck is happening as you feel his nose pressing into the soaked fabric of your panties. “Homelander! Y-you….ohh…” You whimper, your hands automatically finding comfort and safety in between his golden locks.

“Fuck you smell good.” Homelander growls, his hands now on your ass, holding you in place as he sticks his tongue out, pressing it wetly over your soaked panties. The taste of you already coating all his taste buds.

“O-oh fffuuck. OH god…yes…yes please.” You don’t stop yourself from moaning freely, the time for embarrassment long gone as Homelander lifts one hand from your ass, impatiently pulling the fabric of your Homelander panties to the side, his tongue already slipping in for a taste before his hand even makes it back to squeeze your ass. “Taste just as fucking good.” His voice strained, uttering filth in between your thighs.

His thick tongue pushes through the slit of your weeping pussy, lapping up what you’ve so graciously prepared just for him. And as you watch a mop of blonde hair greedily slurp at your wetness like he’s parched, you think back to the fantasies that drove you to orgasm after orgasm as the imaginary Homelander ate your pussy.

Well, for one the real thing is a lot more enthusiastic than you ever imagined him to be. He is sucking on your clit in rhythm that has you throb harder, making your toes curl. “Ohhh, Homelander!” You reward him with a loud moan of his name, like a prayer on your lips. And you repeat it with each masterful lick around your clit that has you squirming in his hold, legs quivering around his head, fingers tugging at his hair.

The second thing you never considered was how much his powers would come into play. Here he is with a deathly strong iron grip around your ass, easily holding you up on his shoulders against the wall while pushing you as close into his face as he can. The thought of not being able to escape his grip exhilarates you as much as it terrifies you. His lack of need for air makes him a perfect devout lover. Because this is pure devotion except it seems he forgot who was meant to worship who.

You’d be embarrassed by the obscene sounds you two are making if it didn’t feel so good. You moan for him prettily as he licks up all the wetness he’s coaxing out of you. You breath hitches as you feel your orgasm building. He's consistent, giving you just the right pressure. Homelander looks up at you, eyes glassy and blown back with lust before he swiftly repositions you, needing just one arm to make you feel weightless yet secure in his hold as he takes his free hand plunging two fingers into you revelling in the feeling of your cunt clenching around him.

“Oh there there there! Ahhh!” You guide him, his fingers pumping into you and with his tongue still working magic on your clit you whimper out, “oh fuck, I’m gonna, I’m gonna–.” You fall apart in his arms, cumming on Homelander’s tongue like you’ve imagined many times over. With you thrashing around you rip the poster right behind you unaware of the mess you’re leaving behind. He licks you through the waves crashing through you. He’s smug, you can feel the smirk against your pussy as he gives it one more kiss before easily slipping you off his shoulders, preening with satisfaction. “Mhmm you did so good.” His voice purred and even in your post-orgasm haze you flush with fresh heat at the praise.

He gives you time to compose yourself but you don’t want it. You want him. You need him. Your legs feel like jelly so you immediately sink to your knees, nuzzling your face into his crotch. Too eager to wait. Homelander cooed at your enthusiasm, “Look at that. Didn’t even have to tell you.” He chuckles, voice thick with lust, his lips and chin still glistening from the way he feasted on you.

Wobbly and out of your mind, you reach for his belt, unable to figure out how to unclasp it, your dexterity not quite there either to be able to wiggle the hem of his pants underneath it and pull them down.

You look up at him with the face of a kitten that’s not getting what it wants. Pouting and pleading for help.

“Christ, let me help you with that.” Homelander unclasps his belt, letting it hit the floor with a loud and heavy clang and the thought of it denting the cheap flooring doesn’t even graze your mind. He unzips his pants and the hiss alone makes your mouth water. He pushes his pants a little lower and you stare wide eyed at where his thematically red briefs are tented, his cock throbbing and leaking pre-cum into the thin fabric.

Okay, this you can do. Your hands slide up his thighs, getting a little feel of the bare skin of his thighs. Unmarred, smooth and hot. Your hand briefly squeezes around his cock through his briefs, forcing Homelander to hiss through his teeth. You pull down his briefs, bunching them down with the thick fabric of his suit.

You try not to stare and drool but you’ve imagined his cock in your dreams and fantasies so many times that seeing it in real life just kind of blows your fucking mind. It’s perfect. A bit longer than average but especially nice and thick. You lick your lips in anticipation. His hand rests on the back of your head, giving your hair a tug.

“You gonna keep staring or will you put those pretty lips to work?” His gruff tone tears you from the haze.

You blush, being caught staring. Wanting to please your hero you apologize, “sorry, it’s just so perfect. You’re perfect.” You breathe out in pure adoration.

“Come on then, be a good girl and open up for your hero. I want my cock wet before I slide it into that needy pussy.” He looks down at you with a sharp smile, his other hand rests on your jaw before moving up squeezing the hollow of your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. Not that he has to, you’re more than willing to deliver. You open wider, making his hand withdraw as you take matter into your own hands. Literally. You grip the base of his cock, feeling how hefty and hot it feels. It hits you in that moment that you’re holding Homelander’s cock. Fuck. You’re gonna be dreaming of this moment for years to come.

You look up, giving him one more doe-eyed look before you stick your tongue out easing the swollen red head in between your lips. The salty, musky taste of his pre-cum on your tongue makes you whimper, your eyebrows furrow with concentration as you focus on banking the memory of his taste in your head. Eagerly you get right into it. Down and dirty. You focus on him, coating him with an ungodly amount of saliva until anytime you pop off him you’re followed by strings of it connecting you two. His grunts and heavy breaths just urge you to do better. So you take him deeper, slurping around the saliva you've made for him, bobbing your head up and down.

You nearly lose your rhythm when he lets out such a needy wanton moan, making your pussy throb.

“Thaaat’s it, come on—fuck!—deeper, yeah yeaahh you got it sweetheart. God fuck that’s fucking it.” He’s nearly whimpering, so lost in the sensation. And you're eating it up. Each whimper and word goes straight to your pussy and at this point you wouldn't be surprised if you were making a puddle on the floor.

His hand forces your head down deeper and you gag, choking around him as for a second your nose bumps the neat thatch of hair above his cock. He's not easily dissuaded and he pushes again, a little softer this time. You almost feel the tremble of his hands, he's so close to unravelling. Just for you. The swell of pride pushes you forward and you take him deeper. He takes the chance to push both hands into your hair as he starts fucking your face.

“Take it. Take it.” He grunts, his voice more and more broken with every thrust. You're just about to push his thighs back, attempting to fight against his unyielding force but his hips stutter and he groans, letting out broken moans as he spills on your tongue.

As if on command you swallow and he pulls out, wiping the residual dribbles of cum on your lips. Now that he’s done you realise just how fucking badly your jaw aches. You whimper at the ache of your jaw and the ache between your legs.

You’re still kneeling on the floor, a picture of pure devotion, with your mouth messy and lips swollen. He grumbles at the picture in front of him. He pulls you up by your hair, kissing the taste of himself out of your lips. You can still taste your pussy on his lips and tongue as he shoves it into your mouth. “Bed?” He's somehow more than ready to continue and mentally you add his extraordinary refractory period to the list of his many talents.

You nod a broken, “y-yeah, this way,” the taste of him still heavy on your tongue as you lead him to your bedroom.

He lets out a little chuckle at the state of your bedroom, just as decorated with his brand as was the rest of your apartment. “Fuck me, you really are my biggest fan.”

You’re about to apologize, again, and he can read you like an open book already shushing you. “Shh, don’t say it. C’mere, take this off instead. Want to see you.” He tugs at your top, wanting you to take it off. Like unwrapping a present. You let out a few breathless ‘okay’s and pull the top over your head baring your entire body to him, save for the panties that were still uncomfortably pushed to the side. He clearly wants you to keep them on and you’re not sure whether that’s his narcissism or possessiveness talking. You don’t dare comment on the fact that he’s still fully dressed. You’re not gonna start demanding things from the Homelander now are you?

With a step closer he purrs, pushing you to the bed intensely watching as your tits bounce when your back hits the comforter. He follows as he lays over the top of you but he doesn't look at you. He picks up the grimacing Homelander plushie he sees on your pillow— the one that's predominantly advertised to kids. He holds it up for you to see with a raised eyebrow, the look almost condescending. “What? They make no other official plushies!” You defend yourself.

“Is there anything you don't have?”

You don't know what possessed you to answer, “yeah, you,” but Homelander eats it right up as he grins at you.

“Cheeky slut. Well you're about to. On your side.” He says sliding off you to rest on his side looking you up and down hungrily. You’re clearly surprised at his choice of position and he grumbles with annoyance as you take forever to move the way he wants you to. His impatience gets the best of him and he effortlessly manipulates you to your side, slotting right behind you. Homelander grips your inner thigh lifting your leg a little higher, as he nestles his cock right against your wet cunt.

You sigh with partial relief, feeling him solid against you feels good. Feeling him inside you would feel even better. “Jesus, you're still so fucking wet.”

“It's all your fault.” You whimper trying to wiggle in his unyielding hold. He just tuts at you gripping you tighter, cusping on pain.

He pulls you close, his cock sliding in between your slit, immediately getting the top of his cock wet. His lips trail up your jaw until he reaches your ear. He growls, low and sexy, nipping at the sensitive skin of your ear. Your heart skips a beat, your pussy throbs as the sound of him just ripples through you.

“Maybe it is. You know, I've been thinking. You're such a nervous little thing.” He grinds his hips into you, dragging his cock back and forth, teasing you. His voice got quiet, dropping a register lower. All slow and drawled out he continues rumbling in your ear clearly aware of what it's doing to you. “You were beside yourself when I called you. So there I am thinking nobody gets that nervous, not unless they’re trying to hide how fucking turned on they are.” He keeps fucking talking and talking, making you shiver to the point where you feel goosebumps rise all over you. Your breath ragged, your eyes fluttering shut.

You're starting to understand why he was particular about this position. After all, he could read you like a book from the get go.

“At first I thought it was just me because you're such a big fan.” He coos in a condescending tone. He licks the outer edge of your ear and you shriek, thrashing in his uncompromising hold. “But no no nooo. It's not that. Because everytime I spoke, your heartbeat sped up. You know, I was worried about you there for a minute. Then there was your pussy. You get so wet the air is thick with it. I can't even fucking breathe without tasting your sweet cunt.” You let out a broken sound, close to a sob, you pussy throbbing so hard he must feel it even without being inside you. You didn't even consider that his senses can easily sniff your secret out.

He’s still rubbing his cock in between your folds, sliding the whole length of it up and down. It’s slick and loud and so good and holy shit your clit is burning from the way his head catches on it with every thrust. You're so close and your body is on fire. You so desperately want to cum with something inside you but he’s cruel. He's not gonna give it to you just yet. “And look at that, you're still getting wetter. They do say it's always the unassuming ones.” He chuckles into your ear, low and vibrating against you.

“Is that it? Do you get off to the sound of my voice? Do you watch videos of me, listening to interviews while you finger your little pussy?” He's going harder, the wet sound of your pussy slicking his way in between your slit is deafening, embarrassingly loud. “Tell me.” The little command growls in your ear and you force your lips open.

“Y-yes! Yes….I-I find your voice sexy.” You admit to your little shameful secret. You admit that one of the reasons you never met him was because you didn't want to get sopping wet in a crowd full of screaming fans. “Don't stop, please.” You moan out, quiet and broken, your embarrassment making way to pure pleasure. Now that it's out in the open, what is there to hide?

“Do you even care what I say? Huh? I could be reading out the fucking phone book and your pussy would still get wet. Greedy little thing. What’s it gonna be? You gonna cum to my voice or are you gonna be difficult?” You're burning hot, your body so so tense, the leg he's hitched up a little trembling against his strong grip. His cock is still hitting your clit in the perfect fucking way and you're so so so close.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop! Oh fuck, Homelander—don’t—ahhh!” The dam bursts, a wave of pleasure sweeping over you as you scream. Homelander pulls back and with one deft stroke he slides his cock inside you. He doesn't move. He growls at the feeling of your cunt just pulsing against him. He's so thick inside you, stretching you wide, filling every crevice.

He whimpers and you feel how tense he is holding off the orgasm threatening to burst inside him.

Just as you think this must be the end of it, your mind just a buzzing noise, he pulls out moving back and he pushes you on your back.

You never expected him to be so active in bed but he's already in between your legs, his hands clamping down on the clammy flesh of the back of your thighs and he spreads you open. He's on his knees, his hands slide and curl from the back of your thighs to the top as he pulls you in, slowly sliding his cock into you in one push.

He doesn't wait for anything. He just fucks you. Hard and fast, really getting himself off more than you. Surrounded by posters and merch all carrying his likeness while he plunges into you again and again. Your hair is plastered to your forehead as you watch your hero utterly ruin you. You're sweaty, absolutely spent and tired while he's pushing into you without breaking a sweat.

This round isn't for you yet it's gonna be a memory you'll frequent the most. The look on his face, pure lust and torture as he's fucking you with as much strength as he allows himself.

With how he's got your hips propped up he's managing to hit all your best spots as your overstimulated nerves light up, giving him one last finish, your pussy’s quivers pushing him over the edge as well.

Then there's a little hot spurt of him inside you but you're surprised when he pulls out shooting most of his load with a few strokes of his fist all over your panties and stomach.

“Ahh fuck. Look at that, finally got your first autograph.” He snorts, amused, admiring the sight in front of him. His cum has already soaked into your panties, the ‘Homelander’ text changing into a darker colour as both his cum and your slick from the previous round drench the fabric.

You flush hot red and you shake your head, amused by his antics. “That's disgusting.” But strangely, you're charmed.

“I should take a picture. You look great like this.”

He notes as he slides off your bed pulling his briefs over his finally softening cock, tucking himself back into his suit.

“Stay?” You say softly, offering him the space for his benefit more than yours. Even though you'd like him to stay for a cuddle you know you'll be out of it in a minute.

“Can't do I'm afraid, duty calls.”

You nod, understanding. “Thank you, I really feel like a winner.” You snorted, thinking back to how the day even started.

He looks at you almost fondly, but your orgasm-hazy brain might just not be working anymore.

“Until next time.” He says as a goodbye and you end up tucking yourself into bed. The last thing you hear is the click of his belt he picked up from the living room, the creak of the leather gloves he slides back on and the sonic boom of him flying away.

And you know that when you wake up if it wasn't for your ruined panties, your throbbing cunt or even the ripped poster in the living room you wouldn't believe any of it was real.

You sure hope there will be a next time.

[Part 2]

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#ahhhhhh it's done #I'm so pleased with myself for finishing this #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander #homelander fanfiction #my writing #the boys fanfiction

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sayoneee · 9 months ago

Text

☆ BACK TO THE OLD HOUSE

percy jackson is a nuisance. a nuisance you have always been fond of, some way, somehow. (5.6k)

contains: percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite! reader. post tlo (spoilers). kind of melancholy but it gets better (kind of). book percy.

kashaf’s note: guess whos alive!

TO QUESTION, to ponder, to seek out the gods is sacrilegious. the gods preferred their divinity to be kept strictly within the confines of worship — whether by completing their ‘menial’ tasks or by committing sacrifices, they, in their infinite wisdom, are not allowed to be objected to.

“so, my mom’s a god? of love?”

you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, and mentally counted to three. opening your eyes, you make eye contact with the newest addition to camp, and your newest responsibility. bruised and scuffed, the poor kid blinks back at you confusedly as you mull your options. “yes, and no,” you decide.

“our mom’s a goddess, and love is just the most common of her jurisdictions.”

the new camper looks around the cabin, taking it in, you follow their gaze, lingering on the painted swans on the wall behind you, and bouncing to the pearls adorning the vanity, littered with various seashell trays holding gold jewelry (the first time you had entered these very walls, your throat had tightened at the pure ostentatiousness of it all).

they glance back at you, confused. you sighed again, “yes, our mom is the goddess of love.”

“oh.”

the candles residing in conches flicker as if waiting to pass judgment, and silence blankets you and the new camper once more (this is potentially your fiftieth time attempting to explain the same concept, yet you’re no better at it than when you first started — shaking and solemn).

needless to say, it’s more than just difficult to explain this tacit rule to new campers — after whatever tragic event transpired for them to realize that the greek gods of myth and legend indeed exist, they simply don’t have the mental capacity to learn the unspoken rules of the whole being a demigod thing.

you could be warmer, somehow, you suppose, with your mother being the goddess of love and all — in all honesty, you’re still not sure how you became the aphrodite cabin counselor, over selina (the entirety of camp half-blood’s favorite daughter of aphrodite) but the counselorship would have ended up in your hands anyway, after everything (the sight of her once-beautiful face as she coughed up blood in clarisse’s lap swims across your memories).

you pinched the bridge of your nose again, sighing as the candles snuffed out all at once of their own accord (judgment has been passed), “take the empty bed in the corner, we get up at like the ass crack of dawn so you might wanna catch up on your sleep.”

you watched the kid sit on the bed (looking every bit out of place as you did when you first arrived amidst the sheer indulgence the cabin is), and you can’t help but feel a pang in your chest as the child (the entire camp is full of children, but the vast majority of you have never gotten the chance to be the children that you are) stared wide-eyed at posters of movie stars, like tristan mclean, adorning the walls.

with one last glance and forlorn smile at the kid, you walked out of your cabin, your expression hardening at the sight of other campers. the walk to the arena is a short yet bleak one, in the silence you can hear drew’s screaming ringing in your ear (drew is preferable to hearing your other half-siblings, ethan, or even luke; drew is alive).

in the middle of the sword-fighting lesson being taught, you slipped into the arena, undetected for the most part except for the pair of sea-green eyes trained on your figure as you came and stood next to him, clearly hanging back.

��this is usually your shit, jackson,” you say, ignoring how pitiful your racing heart is, and watching clarisse at the helm, steam blowing out of her ears as new campers fell over themselves trying to parry and block with wooden swords.

percy turns to look at you, and from the corner of your eye, you can sense the storm brewing across his face. “maybe i’m not the attention whore you think i am,” he snorts, and there is a small trace of bile in his voice, but you don’t focus on that.

instead, your face burns at the memory of your last argument after you dove in front of ethan’s knife (you still wince when you remember the way his visible eye widened when he realized it was you who caught the blow), and percy’s bitterness as will patched you up, what the fuck is wrong with you, you could’ve gotten yourself killed.

and your weak but indignant reply, i literally saved your life, asshole. are you that much of an attention-whore that you need to be the one on their deathbed right now?

“i’d say you kind of are,” you say, turning to meet his gaze (for a brief, stupid, second you wonder if somehow he was a son of zeus because of how the air suddenly became charged with electricity), arms folding across your chest. “the whole making the gods pay child support is a bit attention-whore-esque.”

percy laughed, a sound you and the other campers haven’t heard in a while (it’s different from before but it is still a sound that in your weaker moments, you admit to craving to hear). “someone had to do it,” he says, sobering up immediately.

“luke tried,” you whispered (the name is still taboo around camp), shivering as you felt percy stiffen beside you. a beat passes and the resulting silence is suffocating.

percy offers you a sad, tight smile before walking out of the arena. you watch him go with a strange pain in your chest and a longing for the before, the laughter leaping across the sun-drenched strawberry fields, the joking i told you so’s during meals, and the softness of the campfire sing-a-longs.

it’s hard not to blame the gods, for that is blasphemy, but on most nights, you find yourself uttering your mother’s name with a tangible acidity, and you find that you’re not alone in this sentiment. the once-reverent echoes of aphrodite, promise me true love, promise me victory, promise me beauty, have now faded to lifeless whispers — formalities instead of prayers.

even your own prayers are different now, you pray for the sea — if your mother is allowed to be ambiguous with her gifts (curses) then she must expect the same ambiguity in your prayers in return. when you’re done half-heartedly muttering your prayers and sacrificing your food, your gaze meets a familiar pair of sea-green eyes across the campfire, glowing like a beacon in the dark.

standing up, you find drew, looking every bit as perfect as ever. you lean down to whisper, “lights out at eleven, i’ll be back.”

drew nods, squeezing your hand before she begins herding the rest of your half-siblings back to your cabin, solemn and toneless (an empty shell compared to the once vibrant and snarky drew from before).

the walk to the beach is silent, although you know that you’re being followed — you didn’t survive the war being complacent. when you finally do arrive, the mysterious figure reveals himself in the moonlight (again, you’d be a fool to not recognize the son of poseidon’s careful footsteps).

percy looks every bit of a character straight out of a tragic romance novel that your mother probably inspired, and again your heart squeezes painfully at the sight of him — under the scars and the jaded attitude, he is still the same percy jackson with stars in his eyes when he first introduced you to his mother.

“why do the naiads call you that?” percy asks abruptly, tilting his head to the side as if studying you as he approaches.

barely audible accusations of apatu’ria bubble at the surface of the lake like seafoam; the whispers have followed you since you arrived at camp, and you have never known why.

“call me what?” you ask, feigning ignorance as iterations of deceitful replay across your mind.

percy blinks, confused, “isn’t your mother related to the sea somehow? don’t you know they call you apatu’ria?”

you fiddle with the gold bracelet on your wrist (a gift from selina), percy’s gaze follows the movement as you hesitate. “well, yeah, like i know what it means but i don’t know why they call me that.”

percy shrugged, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jeans. “they call me ‘prosklystios’ a lot,” he said (in the way that he knows you, better than you know yourself).

“so what, we’re just reduced to epithets of our parents? what an honor,” you mumbled sarcastically, staring out at the lake, watching its surface ripple as the accusations grew more fervent. you paid it no mind however, the burden of being a daughter of aphrodite had already claimed its weight on your shoulders.

“careful,” percy sighed, his gaze focusing on you instead of the water, “might’ve just won a war but that won’t stop either of us from being smited if big guy in the sky thinks we’re being impertinent.”

distant thunder rumbled overhead as if proving his point.

“speak for yourself, pretty boy,” you say, eyes looking toward the firmament littered with stars, incognizant of your admission, “if i got the gods to basically pay child support without being sent to tartarus, i would do whatever the fuck i wanted.”

percy being percy, of course, did not register that last bit of your sentence, a shit-eating grin forming across his face, a slight red hue tinging his cheeks, “you think i’m pretty.”

you turn to look at him, ignoring how your heart hammers at the way he’s smiling down at you, you roll your eyes. “percy,” you say slowly. “my mom is the goddess of love, everyone’s gorgeous in her eyes.”

“yeah, but not everyone’s gorgeous in your eyes.”

gods, he was so aggravating but the way his eyes twinkled and the genuine elation on his face almost made you admit defeat.

you crossed your arms over your chest, narrowing your eyes at him, “this is why i never compliment you, you always let it go to your head.”

“aw, c’mon, you love me for it though,” percy says, still grinning widely, his unruly black hair falling into place perfectly.

“you’re an actual attention-whore,” you say, spinning around on your heels and trekking across the sand, leaving percy alone to stare out at the water. you walk back to camp, ignoring percy’s calls of wait punctuated by his laughter as he jogs up behind you.

“i hope mr. d catches you out past curfew and the harpies eat you,” you say deadpan, once percy has caught up to you.

“you’d miss me too much and would come to be my hero, again,” percy smirks at you, following along as you head toward aphrodite cabin (you’re secretly very glad for his presence, you hate walking around camp when it’s this deserted — the memories that you tried so desperately to bury try to claw their way to the surface).

“just because i caught a knife for you, once, does not mean that i’ll ever do it again,” you say, folding your arms across your chest as you stand outside the door of your cabin. “getting stabbed is not a ten out of ten experience.”

percy softens, his impish grin still there, but the intensity of his gaze is enough to make you melt, “good, can’t have you dying on me.”

you snorted, “even if i did die, i’d tell nico to raise my ghost so i could haunt you forever.”

percy’s still smiling, his eyes are still soft, and he’s so close to you right now. “go out with me,” he says, suddenly, earnestly.

blood rushes to your ears. “what?” you blinked, staring at him as if he’d grown another head.

percy shrugged, leaning forward to press a feather-light kiss to the crown of your head. you barely registered the action in your mind, trying to regain your ability to form coherent sentences as you watched him. percy looked away from your questioning gaze. “better go before the harpies eat me,” he said before jogging in the direction of his cabin.

he leaves you standing in front of your cabin door, frozen in shock for another five minutes, before you shake it off, and head inside, convincing yourself that you had imagined the entire encounter. the familiar scent of jasmine envelops you as you linger in the doorway. drew is still awake on her bed, her back pressed against the wall and her head in her arms. she doesn’t bother to look up at your entry until you’re sat next to her, curling an arm around her bony shoulders and pulling her into an embrace.

the two of you sit in silence as drew attempts to calm her heartbeats to sync with yours, her head resting on your shoulder as you rub soothing circles into the planes of her shoulder. you fall asleep in a tangled mess of limbs, a desperate attempt to close the gaping hole selina left in her wake. this is sisterhood, you think when you wake up and drew’s head weighs like lead on your shoulder.

the bright morning does little to assuage your burdens — you know it’s going to be a long day as soon as you hear campers giggling. rule number one of being a camp counselor: no matter how benign, giggling is the number one sign of trouble.

you took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before turning to the younger half of your half-siblings currently in the process of attempting arts and crafts. “what the fuck do you guys keep giggling about?”

your half-siblings only giggle harder.

after what seemed like eons, the new camper finally comes up to you — a kid no older than eight, who motions for you to bend down before they begin stage-whispering in your ear, ��is percy jackson your boyfriend?”

you immediately feel scandalized, jerking away like you’ve been burned, “no, who said that?”

(when you’re being lulled to sleep by the sound of drew’s imperceptible snoring in your ear, your subconscious spends its time lingering, dwelling on could’ve been’s, and should’ve been’s, the obsession as stubborn as when you refused to believe that percy had actually died on mount st helens.)

the kid continues to smile ‘innocently’, “everyone says that you guys hold hands at campfires.”

sudden flashes of percy’s unyielding grip on your hand and his broad smile, as he forced you into a sing-a-long with him, rise to the forefront of your mind, but that was before — when annabeth still had a steely look in her eyes, when travis and connor’s antics still garnered laughs from everyone (and a rare amused glance from mr. d). now (the after), there is no such jocularity, and percy is kept at arm’s length, reduced to offering you sad smiles across the campfire.

“we do not hold hands at campfires,” you say, struggling to keep the disdain out of your voice.

“but there’s a ‘we’,” the kid says, scrutinizing you up and down.

you have to mentally count to three so that you don’t end up arguing with a literal child (it’s not a great way to prove that your sanctity is still intact). “there’s no we.”

the kid shrugs in an if you say so gesture, giving you one last weirdly knowing look before turning back to their arts and crafts. a weighty silence settles, punctuated only by the sounds of scissors and rustling papers.

stares and loud whispers follow you around camp, more so than usual for an aphrodite kid — clarisse finds you in the midst of it all, lost in thought when her cabin is supposed to be pulverizing apollo cabin at volleyball, a sharp glint in her eye.

“you’d tell if me you were dating prissy, right?” she says, her hand faintly closing around your elbow, pulling you out of your reverie.

“what are you talking about?” you say, eyebrows raising in shock. this wasn’t your first rodeo — just before the war this summer, camp gossip had credited you to be going out with connor stoll, but this was different. clarisse was the fifth person today who had asked you if you were dating percy.

“so you are dating him?” clarisse looks offended, or well, as offended as clarisse can be, “and you didn’t tell me.”

you can feel eyes on you, watching your every move as other campers subtly pause their activities to listen in.

“clarisse,” you say slowly, reaching out to hold her forearms and looking her in the eye, “i’m not dating percy.” when she opens her mouth to interrupt, you add, “and i would definitely tell you if i was.”

clarisse exhales, shooting you a disbelieving look, but mercifully leaving you alone with a quiet, “okay.”

you know what she’s thinking, so you offer her a taut smile, patting her on her shoulder as you brush past her. you headed toward the lake, with a feeling that you’d find the answers you were searching for.

the lake is empty except for one solitary figure on the sand, facing the horizon with his hands in his pockets. you hang back for a minute or two, taking in the sight of percy with his eyes closed, and the peaceful look on his face.

a grin settled across his face as he addressed you, his eyes still closed, “i know you think i’m pretty, you don’t have to stare to prove it.”

you ignored his words, and he opened his eyes to watch you angrily march across the sand to stand face to face with him.

“are you the reason why everyone thinks we’re seeing each other?”

“yeah, why?”

to say that you’re taken aback is an understatement — you had anticipated some more denial but this was unexpected. and sudden.

you jab a finger at his chest, “everyone’s getting the wrong idea, so you need to stop whatever it is you’re doing like right now.”

“but they could have the right idea,” percy says, looking amused.

your heart scrapes painfully against your chest, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“we could be dating, for real,” percy says, excruciatingly slow, elongating each word.

the earth stops spinning on its axis for a minute, and time seems to freeze — for a split second you worry kronos has risen again before you calm your racing heartbeat and exhale slowly.

“i need you to be so for real right now,” you say, your eyebrows furrowing.

“i’m being so deadass right now.”

“no, you’re not,” you say, turning and walking away. your heart squeezes pitifully in your chest, as you call out, “find me when you stop joking,” before leaving him alone on the shore.

when percy approaches you again, you think he’s finally come back to his senses, though a weaker, more primitive urge inside you hopes that he hasn’t (it’s for the better, you try and fail to convince yourself).

he interrupts your conversation with drew (though the two of you weren’t doing much talking), smiling charmingly at her before asking if he could steal you away for a minute during breakfast. drew shot you a concerned look, waiting for your reassuring smile before assenting.

“you’ve come to your senses?” you ask after percy leads you away from the mess hall.

“i’ve always had my senses, thank you very much,” percy grins.

you roll your eyes, trying not to smile, “oh yeah, i could totally tell when you played rock, paper, scissors with a hundred-handed one last summer.”

“hey,” percy says, throwing his hands up in the air defensively, “i won that one.”

“on a gamble,” you countered, smiling (you missed this, missed him, and the feeling that everything will be alright enduring).

“not the point.”

“then what is?”

“go out with me,” he repeats, sudden, and earnest.

your heart stuttered pitifully. “not this again,” you sighed.

“why not?”

“why?”

“you know why,” percy tries to make eye contact with you. still, you avoid his gaze, watching the other campers heading into the mess hall give the two of you weird looks.

“no, i don’t,” you say firmly, before walking away, ignoring his protests, leaving behind a group of onlookers that you could care less about, and percy, who was staring at the spot you had just been standing in.

you returned to your cabin, to the familiar jasmine scent and pearl adornments, and promptly collapsed on your bed. more than anything, you just wanted your mother. you wanted your mother to smooth out your hair as you cried, offer you advice, and get rid of the stupid curse.

the door opens quietly and you immediately sit up, dabbing at your face and hoping that your eyes haven’t turned red and swollen already. drew shut the door gently behind her, her expression softening the slightest fraction at the sight of you.

“do i look that bad?” you ask, trying not to sniffle (and failing miserably).

a whirlwind of emotions cross drew’s face and you manage a watery grin. “okay, y’know what, don’t tell me then.”

drew sits next to you on the bed, handing you a box of tissues, “wasn’t planning to.”

the two of you sit shoulder to shoulder as she lets you have a minute to clean up before going straight for the jugular. “i heard what happened.”

you laughed, a choking noise that dissolved into weak coughing. drew patted your back. “so, the entire camp knows now?”

“no,” she says, before changing her mind, “well, yeah.”

“great,” you groaned, “my life is so over.”

drew tensed, tearing her gaze from the posters of hot people on the wall, to look at you, her brown eyes ablaze with fury and her silver earrings (also a gift from silena) jangle, “shut up, you’re the senior counselor of aphrodite cabin, and they’re all losers unworthy of your time. your life so isn’t over.”

(this is the drew from before, the drew that comes and goes in flashes so sudden that you try to piece her together like a puzzle that never seems to connect.)

“the curse,” you say, your throat tight.

drew’s eyes widen imperceptibly, her blue eyeshadow sparkling in the candlelit cabin, before her expression settles into a scowl. “what about the gift?” her voice sharpens as she stresses the last word, sparing the smallest glance toward the roof of the cabin.

you can’t continue, and you don’t have to — she knows what it is that you’re thinking of (she always has, from the minute you met her, two cold and shaking children alone in the dark).

she shakes her head emphatically. “silena,” her voice chokes, before dropping to a whisper, “silena left us — you can’t leave us too.”

“i know,” you whisper back, your eyes filling with tears. “i know.”

“oh, honey,” drew says sympathetically, drawing you into her arms, and smoothing your hair away from your face as you let out a sob against her shoulder. “break his heart,” she says.

“i can’t,” you mumble.

“you have to. he’ll die if you don’t, and a broken heart is better than dying.”

“i can’t do that to him, he’s so unbelievably good, drew, he deserves everything and more.”

“ignoring how ridiculously sappy that sounded, look at what happened to beckendorf,” you pretend not to notice how drew stumbles through his name (he looked at silena as if she had personally hung the stars in the night sky), “maybe he wouldn’t have gotten over it, but he would’ve been alive.”

you remember how silena had proudly said she was going to put an end to the archaic rite of passage your cabin was infamous for around camp; beautiful, idealistic silena with stars in her eyes (who liked beckendorf to the point she’d blush profusely at the mention of his name), who had no idea that this would all come crashing down around her some short months later.

at your silence, drew continues, still stroking your hair, “look, not to make this harder, but even i’ll admit jackson’s one of those guys you meet once in a lifetime—”

“thanks, drew, that was really helpful,” you interrupt, chuckling dryly.

“oh, shut up, i had a point,” drew says, swatting your shoulder playfully.

you sigh, letting her continue.

“so, like i was saying before i was so rudely interrupted, because jackson’s one of those once-in-a-lifetime type of guys—” here, you coughed pointedly, making drew glare at you before continuing, “—you should be like more willing to see him happy and like living a long ass life because you’re so in love with him.”

“so what, either i reject him and ruin our friendship irreversibly or we date and i break his heart and ruin our friendship irreversibly, or we date and i don’t break his heart and he dies tragically and there’s a possibility that i die tragically too?”

drew shrugged, making a tiny braid in your hair, “pretty much.”

you turned your head in her lap to look her in the eye, “how are you so apathetic about this?”

“someone has to be because you’re not thinking this through rationally.”

you groaned, “aphrodite has to hate us.” (you haven’t called her ‘mom’ genuinely except to her face during the winter solstices.)

“no, she lives for this kind of thing,” drew rolled her eyes, braiding another piece of your hair, “she definitely thinks she’s doing us a favor.”

you groaned again, “what if i just avoid him until summer ends and he goes back to school and forgets this happened.”

“i didn’t think love made you this stupid,” drew says, amused.

“shut up, i can’t wait until you have the same dilemma, and you’re the one asking for advice.”

“doubt it,” drew says, wryly.

you rolled your eyes, “okay, but what if i tell him about the ‘gift’,” you make air-quotes, “and let him decide?”

“yeah, but what if that just makes it backfire and makes you die tragically either way.”

“well, at least he’ll know about the possibility? it’s better than just being like ‘oh i can’t date you even though i’ve liked you since i was twelve’ with like zero explanation whatsoever.”

you hear muffled footsteps coming from outside of the cabin, and the door swings open loudly to admit lacy, who looks flustered and out of breath. you and drew quickly sprang up off your bed at her arrival.

“your boyfriend’s asking for you,” she says, looking at you.

drew raises her eyebrows at you, an unspoken are you going to see him? behind it.

you furrowed your eyebrows back at her, conveying no, shut up.

drew shrugged at you as if saying if you say so.

lacy looks between the two of you, confusion apparent before cautiously interrupting, “he’s waiting outside, by the way.”

you panicked at the thought of possibly confronting percy, “lacy, whatever you do, don’t tell him i’m in here.” you paused, “wait, tell him i’m taking a nap or something, please.”

more shuffling noises can be heard from outside, and drew groans, smacking her forehead with her palm, “what is wrong with you?”

you ignored her, focusing on lacy, whose confusion intensified as she looked between the two of you. “tell him i’m sleeping and he should try coming back later.”

she nodded, before opening the door and stepping outside.

drew stared at you, “y’know, i thought people were exaggerating when they said love makes you stupid but after looking at you, they were so right.”

you scowled at drew. she raised her arms in surrender, “just calling it like i see it.”

lacy returned a second later, “um, he wasn’t outside when i went to tell him.”

that was decidedly odd, but you chalked it up to him being busy or something, and shrugged, “i’ll see him later, it’s fine.”

it was actually not fine, because you didn’t see him later. or the next day. or the day after. well, you saw him but you didn’t see him. percy had somehow uncovered a hidden talent for making himself appear everywhere and nowhere all at once. he was there at meals, laughing with tyson or grover, he was at sword fighting practices, leading the class or giving clarisse a partner, he was at campfires, sitting next to annabeth and connor. yet, the minute you tried to approach him, it was almost as if he’d vanish, like an immortal was running interference.

you’ve taken to wandering by the lake on most nights — your only company the voices of silena (go talk to him, her urging is as present as if she was really there, memories of the time the two of you hadn’t been talking for a week resurging) and luke (what’re you doing out this late, kid? a phantom hand reaching out to ruffle your hair, and the feeling of ice being poured down your back envelops you).

as the sun sets, the tall and lanky figure — a figure you could recognize on the darkest nights — stands overlooking the lake in true jay gatsby fashion, his hands dug deep into the pockets of his baggy jeans. you stop and stare for a second (maybe a minute, an hour, time has truly escaped you), and suddenly you’re small and shivering in the dark again.

percy doesn’t look at you when you approach, though he fidgets with his camp necklace.

“hi,” you say, unsure of where to begin.

percy sighs, “look, if you’re here to ask for space, i get it, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable the other day.” he doesn’t turn to look at you or even glance at you through the corner of his eye once.

“what?” you ask. “what are you talking about?”

“trust me, i get it, you don’t have to try to spare my feelings,” percy says. you want to will him to spare you just a glance. still, he avoids your gaze, focused on the horizon before you. “we’ve been friends for so long, i thought you could be honest with me.”

his words, though not said harshly (percy isn’t capable of being harsh, not to you at least) cut through you like a knife.

“you heard me when i was talking to lacy, then,” you say, with horror as the realization dawns on you slowly.

percy finally looks at you, and the sheer hurt in his iridescent eyes makes you inhale sharply. a lump forms in your throat.

“i did,” he confirms quietly. “why didn’t you say something earlier?”

fighting in a war hadn’t prepared you for man’s greatest folly, something that you, arguably, should’ve been good at. the lump in your throat is difficult to dislodge, yet percy is patient as you swallow uncomfortably.

“i never meant it like that.”

percy’s eyes flash, and you feel sick to your stomach. “have you ever wondered why so many of the other cabins hate us?”

his previously pained expression morphed into a look of confusion. you continued, “in aphrodite cabin, our rite of passage is to break your first love’s heart. silena—” your voice breaks. “—silena tried to put an end to it, and then both she and beckendorf—” you choke up again, and percy’s expression becomes solemn, “died tragically. we didn’t know the consequences of not doing it were real until then, and we realized it was a curse.”

you watch percy seemingly wrestle with his thoughts, taking a step toward you.

“why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” there is no judgment in his voice, yet you still feel embarrassment pooling in your stomach.

“can you honestly tell me that you’re okay with this? with the gods dictating another aspect of your life?” (somewhere in the back of your mind, you can hear luke’s voice repeating the same sentence.)

“you didn’t ask for this either.”

“it’s not our job to question them,” you say, trying not to let a tear slip.

“maybe we should,” percy says, still looking straight at you.

“careful,” you say, as thunder rumbled distantly overhead, “this is what luke was saying.”

“i don’t care,” percy says, “if you or i die a tragic death, we’ll just have to go through tartarus.”

he said it so simply, so matter-of-factly that your breath catches in your throat.

“so, you’re okay with this?” you ask, trying to suppress the tinge of hopefulness in your voice.

percy looked at you in disbelief, his face was so earnest, “why wouldn’t i be?”

you laughed, more out of shock than anything else. percy continued, “i think your mother would think we’d make a cute couple, so maybe she won’t curse us with a tragic end.”

you’re grinning now, tears forgotten, “more like she’ll give us a tragic end because she likes us.”

percy shrugged, “i think we’ll be fine as long as we’re together.”

he kissed you, finally, which was long over-due, and you felt like everything was finally falling into place.

“took you guys long enough.”

you turned around to find the source of the interruption, making eye-contact with clarisse, her arms folded and a smug expression on her face. beside her stands most of your friends, all adorning matching wicked expressions. your heart stops beating for a second before your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“how much of that did you guys hear?” percy asked, suddenly looking bashful.

“most of it,” drew replied with a smirk.

percy looked at you, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement on his face as your friends surrounded the both of you, hoisting you on their shoulders.

“maybe the two of you need to cool off,” annabeth said with a laugh.

connor grinned at her, before calling out, “dump them in the lake!”

you groaned, begging, “annabeth, please.”

“this is payback for all the pining i had to witness over the years,” she said with another bright laugh.

percy shrugged at you, a grin on his face as if saying accept your fate. you gave in, shaking your head as you laughed at their antics.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #percy jackson imagines #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson and the olympians #woc friendly #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x yn #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson one-shot #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson series #percy jackson x fem! reader #percy jackson oneshots #kashaf ki likhai

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luvzshy · 1 month ago

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Harmonious Nights

Summary: In the comfort of your shared home, you balance your passion for music with a playful relationship with Billie Eilish. As you navigate life together, you find inspiration in your creative space, while Billie adds her unique flair and support.

Word Count: Approximately 2,500 words.

Warnings: Fluff, humor, light angst, sarcasm.

The soft glow of the string lights hung above your home studio, creating an inviting atmosphere. The walls were adorned with framed posters of classic bands, and your drum kit took center stage. With a set of sticks in hand, you sat at the kit, feeling the familiar buzz of excitement as you prepared to dive into another session.

Just as the first beat reverberated through the room, the door creaked open, and in walked Billie Eilish. Her deep brown hair reflected the warm light, and her blue eyes sparkled with mischief. She leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, and tilted her head, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

“What’s up, rockstar?” she teased, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Gonna wake the neighbors again with your ‘drumming skills’?”

“Excuse me,” you shot back, rolling your eyes dramatically. “This is pure artistry you’re witnessing, Billie. Not everyone can appreciate the complexities of a paradiddle.”

Billie laughed, stepping further into the room. “Right, because the world is just dying to hear your ‘paradiddles’ at three in the morning.”

You chuckled, a grin spreading across your face. “Well, I’d argue it’s better than your midnight snack escapades, but we both know you wouldn’t survive without your stash of chips.”

“Oh, come on,” Billie retorted, mock offense in her tone. “I can’t help it if I have a refined palate. You know, potato chips are a culinary masterpiece.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you picked up the rhythm again, letting the beats flow. Billie watched for a moment, admiring the way you lost yourself in the music. It was one of the things she loved most about you—the passion, the way you poured everything into your art.

“Okay, but seriously,” Billie said, leaning against the wall, “do you think we could maybe jam together sometime? You know, I can actually sing.”

You paused, turning to her with an exaggeratedly serious expression. “Sing? Billie, darling, you know you have to leave some talents for the rest of us mortals.”

Billie gasped, hand clutching her chest in mock horror. “How dare you! I’ll have you know I’m an acclaimed artist.”

“An acclaimed artist who sings in the shower and has an entire album about being sad,” you quipped, laughter dancing in your eyes.

“Touché,” Billie replied, a chuckle escaping her lips. “But I can still hold my own against your drumming. Just wait till I unleash my hidden talent on you.”

“Hidden talent? What’s next, you’re going to tell me you can play the bagpipes too?”

She winked, pushing herself off the wall and stepping closer. “Only for very special occasions.”

“Great, now I’m worried about what ‘special occasion’ means,” you said, shaking your head.

You returned to the kit, letting the beat drive you, your heart swelling with inspiration. The comfortable banter between you and Billie was a rhythm of its own, a dance of love and playful irritation. As you played, you could feel her gaze on you, a warm presence that added a layer of support.

Suddenly, a beat dropped, and Billie couldn’t resist. She started to sway, a playful grin lighting up her face as she danced around the studio, teasingly mimicking exaggerated drum moves. “Look at me! I’m a drummer now!”

“Wow, I’m impressed,” you said, pausing to clap. “Truly, the world needed another self-proclaimed musician.”

“Careful,” she warned, stepping closer, “or I might just steal your thunder and become the next rock sensation.”

“Right. Billie Eilish: Drummer Extraordinaire. Just what the music industry needs.”

As the playful teasing continued, your focus shifted to the sounds of the outside world. You loved this quiet, suburban life—how it felt like a sanctuary, away from the chaos of fame and the relentless demands of the industry. Here, in your home, you could be yourself, sharing moments that felt genuine and unfiltered.

“Hey,” Billie said softly, breaking the playful tension, “what are you working on tonight? Any new beats?”

You sighed, pulling back slightly. “I’m trying to come up with something for my next project. I want it to feel… I don’t know, different. Like it’s something fresh.”

Billie stepped closer, resting her hands on the edge of the drum kit. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve got? I could use a little inspiration myself.”

“Okay, but if you start judging my ‘paradiddles’ again, I’m kicking you out of the studio,” you replied, your tone light.

“Fair enough. Just don’t make me cry,” Billie shot back, a wink in her eyes.

With a mock salute, you returned to the drums, setting a new tempo. As you played, the rhythm enveloped you, and Billie’s presence transformed the atmosphere. You felt invigorated, the beats morphing into a flowing melody that echoed your shared life together.

Billie listened intently, her head nodding in time with the rhythm. “See? This is what I’m talking about,” she said, excitement bubbling in her voice. “You’ve got something special here!”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of her encouragement wash over you. “Thanks, babe. It helps having you here. You always know how to inspire me.”

“I try,” she said, a playful lilt in her voice. “I mean, it’s not easy being this fabulous.”

“Fabulous? You’re practically dripping with sarcasm,” you retorted, laughter bubbling between you.

“Well, darling, if you can’t be fabulous, you might as well be funny.”

“Touché again,” you said, shaking your head with a grin. “You really have a knack for this.”

As the night wore on, you transitioned into a more relaxed vibe, exchanging playful banter and soft kisses in between beats. The drumsticks danced through the air, while Billie hummed melodies that floated through the room, blending with the sound of the drums.

Eventually, you found yourselves nestled on the couch, a comfortable pile of limbs and laughter. The warmth of your shared space wrapped around you like a blanket, and Billie rested her head on your shoulder, her fingers tracing patterns on your arm.

“You know,” she murmured, “this is my favorite part of the day. Just being here with you, creating these moments.”

You glanced down, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “I agree. There’s something magical about these nights.”

Billie lifted her head, her blue eyes shimmering with mischief. “But let’s be real, you just love that I’m here to keep you grounded, right?”

“Sure, that’s definitely the reason,” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Who wouldn’t want their rockstar girlfriend around to keep their ego in check?”

“Exactly! Just think of me as your personal assistant, but with pretty face.”

You both burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the room. In those moments, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you—lost in your cocoon of love and creativity.

#billie eilish blurb #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish imagine #lesbian #wlw post #wlw blog #sapphic

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kiwi-on-ice · 3 months ago

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we need ashe smut w fem reader if u can🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Ashe x fem!reader

Summary: As the new waitress at Panorama Diner, you quickly meet the infamous Deadlock Gang, while also gaining the interest of their ruthless leader.

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: 18+ smut, dom!ashe, no use of y/n, lots of flirting, fingering, strap ons, spanking, slight overstim

Notes: Thank you for requesting my fav fav fav character anon! God i love Ashe and I love writing her. Also phew this is the longest fanfic i've wrote so far, hope it was worth the wait!

Having recently moved, there was one resounding fact you’ve learnt from practically everyone you’ve met so far; don’t mess with the deadlock gang.

Getting a job as a waitress along route 66, you’d been told by neighbors, new friends, even fellow colleagues to watch your back. That the deadlock gang were dangerous, unpredictable, undefeatable. And as you glance at the wanted posters that adorn the diner wall, your eyes are drawn to the leader, her mascara running down her cheeks. But its her expression that really strikes you, how severe and intense her gaze is. Reading the warning ‘Dead or Alive, Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe, $65,000,000 reward’, it really dawns on you how threatening she seems. Your finger traces the edge of the slightly ripped material, not being able to identify why exactly you can’t rip your gaze away.

Not being able to idle for long, you tear yourself away and get back to serving food and drinks, getting used to the flow of the diner and its patrons. It’s almost relaxing, most customers being pretty polite and calm as you work. You fall into a routine, especially since you have a specific uniform to wear. The diner’s management thought it would be good to have almost a 1950s theme, meaning you and the other waitresses were given blue stereotypical dresses to wear, complete with a small white apron to go around the waist. Yours was a little too tight, not that you minded. It flattered your figure quite nicely, even gaining you a few compliments.

It was quite a slow day as you stood behind the counter, in your own world as your fingers tap rhythmically on the marble. Light streamed through the glass windows, brightening the fairly empty diner as you daydream passively. Although the other waitress on staff seemingly drops a cup on the counter, causing you to turn at the noise. She seems...flustered, just as the bell rings to signal the door has opened. Following her nervous gaze, your breath catches. The deadlock gang, well only three of them, but the leader you’d recognise anywhere from how often you find yourself gazing at her wanted poster. Your colleague quickly busies herself with some coffee that you’re sure hasn’t been ordered, leaving you to seat them. You breathe slowly as you walk towards the new patrons.

Ashe seems a little frustrated, snapping at who you assume is her lieutenant as they wait to be seated, her rifle idly resting over her shoulder. She turns to look at whichever waitress will probably annoy her today, and then she sees you. Immediately her demeanour changes, looking you up and down as the furrow of her brow dissipates.

“Welcome to Panorama Diner, table for three?” you say softly, a polite smile etched on your features.

“Yeah, thanks. Preferably by one of those windows.” The leader replies, her red eyes not moving from you as you lead them to their table. Placing their menus down, you smile and leave them to decide. Releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you catch the other waitress glancing at you slightly apologetically. But you don’t particularly feel that threatened or scared…but you’ve been wrong before.

“Ready to order?” you ask with your notebook out, once again putting on the customer service smile.

“Three coffees, black.” Ashe says, before looking you up and down again. “That a uniform? Or d’you just like to dress like that?”

“It’s a uniform, management are going for a 1950s theme.” You reply with a soft laugh, which Ashe seems to delight in.

“Suits ya dollface, can see why they suggested it.” She says smoothly, causing heat to unexpectedly rise to your cheeks.

“I’ll grab your drinks.” You say quickly, turning and hoping she didn’t catch how flustered you looked. You reprimand yourself as you put the coffee on, why on earth were you affected by a simple compliment? You get compliments all the time…and especially why were you affected by the compliment of a criminal gang leader? You try and shake those thoughts from your mind as you pour their drinks, placing them on the tray and carrying them.

“Here you are, can I get you guys anything else?” you ask as you place their mugs in front of them. The two men shake their head dismissively, but Ashe hums softly.

“Hm…any recommendations?”

You hesitate for a moment. “Well a lot of the waitresses here recommend the apple pie.”

“But not you?” she asks, her eyebrow quirked.

“To be honest I hate apple pie.”

This dry response cause the gang leader to laugh, actually laugh, causing the two men to stare for a moment, bewildered. “That right? Appreciate the honesty there sweetcheeks, what would you recommend?”

You take a moment to think. “The French toast is lovely, and we also have a few cakes on stand that the staff made. Chocolate and red velvet.”

“Well I think red velvet would be just sweet enough, thanks doll.” Ashe replies with a small smirk, her red lipstick illuminating as the suns rays pierce through the glass panes. You nod and quickly go to get her a slice, a little short of breath from her intense gaze. You really need to stop acting like a blushing schoolgirl, you reprimand yourself. Coming back and serving her the cake slice, she thanks you, and that delicious accent of hers has you fidgeting as you turn and serve another table.

You try and continue your shift as normal, although her occasional glances at you prove difficult to ignore. Still you manage to keep your composure until one of her lieutenants pipes up.

“Hey lady, can we get the check?” he says loudly, snapping his fingers a little condesendingly, and as you hurry to the table, you see Ashe glare daggers at him.

“Don’t snap your damn fingers at her, she ain’t a fuckin’ dog.” Ashe seethes at him, which causes him to shrink a little and nod.

“Cash or card?” you ask, before Ashe pulls out a wad of cash from her pocket. Counting how much they owe, she places it on the table. You collect it as they stand to leave, but before they do Ashe stands to her full height and steps in front of you.

“Your tip, and an apology for my lackey’s rudeness.” She says, handing you a wad of cash. Your eyes must betray your shock at how much she’s giving you, as you shakily take it and start thanking her profusely.

“Don’t mention it dollface, didn’t catch your name.” You tell her, and she hums and smirks at you. “Pretty name for a pretty girl, guess I’ll be comin’ in here more often.”

With that, she tips her cowboy hat which makes you giggle softly before leaving. You watch as they step outside, mounting their motorbikes. You glance down to check your tip, counting the money in amazement. She’d tipped you 200 dollars, at least that’ll go a long way to paying this weeks rent.

Making good on her statement, two days later the gang are back. This time it’s Ashe and three members of her gang, alongside two omincs. One looked smaller, with a hood and a sniper rifle, but the other was huge, his hulking frame contrasting the cute little bowler hat that lay askew on his head. Even though a waiter was on hand, you almost sprinted to be the one who served them.

“Welcome back to Panorama Diner, table for…five?” you ask as you count them, and Ashe nods. They all seem a little dishelved, a few cuts and scrapes present on the human members which causes you to wonder where they’d been or what trouble they’d caused. You lead them to a table, connecting two so the bigger omnic could fit more comfortably, which seems to please Ashe greatly.

“Wasn’t sure ya’ll accepted omnics, there are a lot of establishments who sure as hell don’t.” Ashe remarks, causing you to shake your head.

“Of course we do, we don’t discriminate.” You say with a smile, before glancing at the bigger omnic. “Love the hat.”

He gives a nod and a little thumbs up, as Ashe continues. “His name’s B.O.B, he ain’t a talker.”

You nod, flipping your notebook out. Two coffees and a milkshake, to which Ashe raises her eyebrow at the dark-skinned woman clutching a laptop to her chest.

“Seriously Frankie?”

“What? You said it was a celebration.”

You smile a little. “So two coffees and a milkshake, got it.”

Leaving them to it, you go to prepare their orders. You can’t deny that you’ve been secretly picturing Ashe coming in again, giving you a small rush now that it’s actually come true. You try and convince yourself it’s just for the possibility of another tip, and not for the way her voice makes you weak at the knees, and her eyes are the most gorgeous you’ve ever seen.

“Here you guys are, anything else just let me know.” You say brightly.

“Thanks doll.”

God you can’t deny how much that nickname is affecting you when it slips from her red lips, as you turn and serve some other tables. You notice a few patrons glancing at the gang as they eat, but you aren’t afraid anymore, and you sure as hell aren’t gonna turn them in, however you try and push away the feeling of guilt at how flippant you’re being regarding a wanted gang of criminals. All because the leader was hot.

Still, you go about your shift easily, growing to like whenever Ashe would unashamedly look at your ass whenever you bent over to pick something up from a table; in fact, a few times you did it on purpose in the hopes the older woman was looking at you. After a while, it was near closing time so you check on them to get any final orders. Upon asking for the check, you hand it to them.

“Cash or card?” you ask.

“Cash” the leader replies, this time opening a bag that was sat beside her. You can’t help but glance inside, and the sheer volume of dollar bills nearly has your eyes watering. That explains why they look so bruised and scraped, you think to yourself, as she counts out the amount and places it on the table. As they get up to leave, Ashe is again the last one as she hands you another wad of cash.

“Your tip.” She says in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Oh…miss I really cant accept that much again- “

“You can, and you will.” She replies, her tone leaving no room for argument as you shyly take the money, electricity spiking up your back as your skin brushes against hers.

“Thank you so so much, I really can’t thank you enough.”

“No need sugar.” She waves her hand dismissively as she grabs her rifle. “Stay safe, these parts ain’t gonna be quiet for too long.”

You nod a little at her warning as she leaves, your heart beating rapidly. She gives you a final look up and down as she leaves, and you release a shaky breath, god you really have to stop getting so worked up about her. Although it’s hard when you glance at the 300 dollar bill tip she just gave you.

However a few days later, things really take a turn for you. Two of your fellow waitresses invite you out to a bar, and you’d been polite enough to say yes despite your reluctance. Once you arrive, they’re both taken with a few men who buy them drinks, leaving you alone at the bar, tapping your finger anxiously on the table. You get a few offers from guys trying to buy you drinks, but you blow them off, your dress suddenly feeling too tight in the warm lights. Thinking about leaving, you move a bit through the bar before you hear raucous laughter from a nearby cards table.

The deadlock gang…they were here. Clearly nobody was brave enough to ask them to leave, or hell they might even own the place…it strikes you just how little you know about them; dangerous considering the leader now knows your name. The same leader who you’ve just locked eyes with, the red hue causing your breath to catch. Hesitating, you turn to leave. Maybe she didn’t recognise you outside of your waitress uniform, as you attempt to walk casually towards the exit.

“You better not be leaving doll, not when I’ve just saw ya.” You hear a smooth southern voice say, and god it’s like the blood rushes to your face immediately. Turning, you see Ashe coming up to you, her lips, tie and eyes all the same colour. Danger.

“Seems my friends have left me, I was just heading out-“

“Awe don’t worry, how about I be your friend, hm?”

It feels like the devil tempting you as you hesitate for a moment, but ultimately you find yourself nodding before you even realise. The smirk on her face makes her look like the wolf whose seduced the lamb into her den, as she leads you into the bar with a hand on the small of your back. Taking you to a smaller table away from the rest of her gang, she looks at you.

“Let me at least buy ya a drink.” She offers, and goes to order what you asked for. Tapping your fingers nervously against your thigh, you glance around as you wait. Her gang are still sat where you’d seen them, laughing and playing cards. You recognise a few of them who’d came into the diner, but quickly look away before they catch you staring.

“There ya go sugar.” Ashe says as she gets back, two glasses in hand. You quickly thank her as she slides into the booth with you, her thigh slightly touching your own. “So y’friends abandoned you?”

Laughing a little, you nod and explain that they’d been whisked away with some patrons who’d caught their eye. The smirk on Ashe’s face gives away her train of thought.

“But not you?” She inquires, eyes glancing around your face as if mapping out every detail.

“I prefer girls.” You say before even thinking about your words, but the older woman smiles all the same.

“Perfect.”

Forcing yourself to not show how flustered you are, she starts to ask questions about your life, your job, your family. As you speak, she seems genuinely interested in what you have to say, something you can’t say you’ve ever had with the dates you’ve been on in the past. Not that this is a date…

“What about you?” You ask softly.

“Me? All ya need to know is that deadlock is my family now.” She says, before grinning. “Well, B.O.B is extra special family.”

“The one with the little hat, right?” You reply, peering over her shoulder to her gang, where the hulking omnic sat with his eyes firmly on the two of you.

“Yeah that’s it, my bodyguard. Not that I need him all the time. Best believe I can handle myself.” She smirks, leaning in to murmur the last bit close to your ear, causing you to giggle a little.

“You’re known for being quite dangerous around these parts, right?”

“Oh you could say that doll. What, you scared?” She teases, before you quickly shake your head. “Good, I like a brave girl.”

Smiling a little at her praise, you aren’t even focused on the fact she’s a gang leader anymore. Like Eve biting the forbidden fruit, you let Ashe place her hand on your knee as you speak, the sinful spark of electricity seemingly travelling from her manicured fingertips all the way up your spine. As you both talk, her fingers tracing small circles on your knee, before slightly rising higher.

After an hour or so, her gang approach, rowdy and clearly intoxicated as they giggle.

“C’mon Ashe, let’s hit up some other places.”

You smile at the cowgirl, thinking it’s the end of the night for you. But she hums, glancing at you for a moment before replying.

“Ya’ll go and have fun, but not too much.”

One of her lieutenants tilts his head, “huh? You ain’t comin’?”

Ashe cuts him a glare that tells him to shut his mouth, before readjusting herself so her arm is around your shoulder. “I’m doin’ just fine here.”

With no room for argument, her gang takes off after Ashe gives a nod to her omnic bodyguard. You on the other hand feel your breathing quicken at the feel of her arm around you, subtly leaning closer to her as you giggle.

“You’re doing just fine here?” You ask, to which she smirks.

“Damn right I am, got a pretty girl hangin’ off my every word. What’s not to like?”

At the reassurance that she does in fact find you pretty, the heat rises within you. Not being able to help glancing at her lips for a moment, the ever perceptive criminal obviously noticing, her breath tickling your cheek as she speaks.

“But just cause I’m doin’ fine here, don’t mean we can’t go somewhere else…maybe away from pryin’ eyes.”

At her announcement, you glance around to notice the other patrons sneaking glances as you. But another thought comes creeping through your mind, the thought of going home with her. Of letting her touch you in the way you’ve been fantasising about ever since she came into the diner. You wouldn’t dream of admitting the nights you spent playing with your clit, imagining the infamous gang leader’s fingers instead. So you nod, knowing you’d give in, and the self-satisfied smile on her face tells you that she knew you’d say yes.

She leads you with by the hand, warm and slightly callous in your own, before coming upon her motorcycle parked outside the bar. Seeing your expression, she giggles softly.

“First time on one of these?” she asks, to which you nod, “Don’t worry sugar, just hold on good and tight f’me, alright?”

And you really do, clinging on to her waist as she speeds down dirt roads, hair wispy in the wind. Try as you might to relax and take in the scenery, you can’t deny the relief you feel when she finally brings the bike to a stop. She takes you once again by the hand and leads you inside, shutting and bolting the door behind you both. Now should be the time to feel at least a little intimidated, but butterflies of excitement uncurl in your stomach as she glances at you.

“Want another drink?” she asks smoothly, to which you shake your head. Drinking really is the last thing on your mind, especially as she stalks closer to you. “Maybe you want somethin’ else…”

Feeling your back against the wall, you nod slightly as she brings her hand up to slowly trace your cheekbone. Her thumb rubs smoothing lines, and at this proximity you can see every line and pore on her beautiful face, every eyelash, how her tongue darts out a little to lick at her lip.

“D’you want me doll? Gotta tell me now or I ain’t touchin’ ya.”

“I want you.” You say, trying to sound confident but melting at her grin.

“Alright, you gotta know though…I’m a woman who likes control, likes to be in charge. You sure you can handle that?”

You’re sure that your cheeks are burning as she says that, nodding quickly again. At your consent, she leans in and kisses you, the tension between you both finally exploding. She presses you further up against the wall, tongue running along your bottom lip before exploring your mouth. Eagerly swallowing your slight whimpers, she uses her free hand to wrap around your hip, keeping you where she wants you. Pulling away, she observes the slight red stain her lipstick as left on your mouth, before kissing along your jaw.

“So sweet sugar, like candy.” She mumbles against your skin, kissing down to your neck and licking. “Gonna let me leave a mark?”

You stutter out a yes, before she sucks a dark hickey into your neck. There really isn’t any going back now, she’s marked you. The leader of the deadlock gang has truly staked her claim on you, and you couldn’t be happier.

Feeling the material of your dress, she slowly inches the fabric up, exposing more and more of your thighs as she kisses to the junction between your neck and shoulder. She lets out a soft moan as she grips your upper thigh, feeling the soft skin under her touch and squeezing. Although she quickly grows tired of waiting, instead slipping between your thighs to grope your clothed pussy instead. At the action, you can’t help but buck forward into her touch, feeling her smile against your skin.

“So wet already, bet you were drippin’ in the bar huh?” she accuses you, knowing she was right. Her fingers cup your panties, feeling the wet material beneath her skin, exploring. With a soft whimper, you let her touch you how she wants, eyelids fluttering closed before she slaps your pussy lightly.

“Nuh uh doll, eyes open.”

When you do as she instructs, she rewards you by slipping into your panties and rubbing your clit in slow rhythmic circles. The result is instantaneous, a quiet needy moan escaping you as you feel her touch. Her eyes never leave your face, head tilted as she watches your reactions.

“Look so pretty, y’know that? Know how pretty you are?” she praises you teasingly, meaning every word but mostly saying them because of how flustered you act when you hear them. Her praise goes straight to your cunt, clit throbbing under her touch as she speeds up her movements.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen sugar. You’re gonna cum on my hand, and all I’m gonna do is play with your clit. If you’re a good girl and do what I say, imma take you into the bedroom and fuck the brains outta ya.”

Her tone doesn’t leave any room for argument, and you voice your confirmation. She grips your waist, encouraging you to rock into her hand as she keeps up the movement of her fingers, strumming your core expertly. It’s clear to you she’s experienced, and you wonder if this is a normal occurrence for her; to seduce and play with pretty girls who happen to cross her path when she isn’t out being a criminal.

Shakily, you grip on to her waistcoat for stability, feeling yourself get closer and closer the more she touches you. When she releases your waist to grope your tits, that’s when your thighs really start to shake, grip harder on her outfit.

“Yeah baby, that’s right. Cum on my hand, make a mess.” She encourages, her voice igniting that fire inside of you as you finish on her hand with a soft cry. Not slowing down, she gets every last bit of your pleasure before she finally removes her hand, bringing it up to the light to observe your fluids sticking to her digits. “Awe, ya really did make a mess.”

Catching your breath, you blink for a moment as she uses those same fingers to tap at your lower lip, before parting them to clean her fingers for her. Tasting yourself was a little strange, but it was worth it for the way her pupils dilated and her breath caught in her throat at your performance. Without another word, she grabs your upper arm and hauls you into the bedroom.

Getting you on your back, she grabs the zipper of your dress and yanks it down, removing it quickly as she leans to give you another kiss. Moaning softly, you reach to unzip her waist coat, pushing it off her before your hands go to her tie. She grins against your lips and helps you undo it, before he grips your wrists and pins them above your head, mattress squeaking slightly.

“Can you guess what I’m about to do?” she purrs, before wrapping the red tie around your wrists, not tight enough to hurt but just enough to give the illusion of incapacitation. Bound like a present for her, she straddles your waist and looks at her handiwork, before slowly unbuttoning her dress shirt. You buck up a little in excitement, as she reveals her white bra. Removing her fingerless gloves, she tugs your ruined underwear down roughly, exposing your dripping cunt to the dim light of the bedroom.

“So many things I wanna do to you baby, so many things.” She says as she runs her finger along your pussy lips, smirking as you twitch. “Anythin’ completely off limits?”

You tell her and she hums in acknowledgement, before glancing at the wardrobe. She lifts herself off you, hissing at you to stay still as she grabs a box from beneath a few clothes and bullet shell casings. Bringing it over, she smirks as your eyes widen at the sheer number of toys in the box.

“I’m a wealthy woman doll, and I’m a wealthy woman with…needs.” She answers your silent judgement, before leaving the box on the floor next to the bed. “Now if you do well, I promise I’ll fuck ya, how does that sound?”

Before being able to ask what you need to do well at, she unbuttons her trousers and slides them down her legs, removing all of her harnesses and belts with precision. Just in her bra and underwear now, she winks at you before ridding herself of her panties before climbing up your body. Oh. You know what she wants, and you whimper desperately in anticipation.

Grabbing the headboard, she positions herself over your face, thighs on either side. You’re practically salivating, as she moves your bound hands to be resting on your stomach. Without warning, she finally sits on your face, and you get to work immediately. You lap at her pussy, wanting to taste her all night and finally being given the opportunity. She groans softly, the feeling of your warm tongue between her thighs was heavenly. She wanted you like this since she saw you, in that silly waitress dress that was too small for your curves.

Rocking into your tongue, she watches you squirm with glee, moving one hand to hold your hair; keeping you in place as she uses you. Uses your mouth, all for herself. Whimpering, you lick up to her clit before sucking gently, delighting in how a soft moan escapes her throat. She tightens her grip on your hair, pulling to angle you to where exactly she wants. Her pussy was dripping, mixing with your saliva as she makes a mess of your face. Not that you mind, excitedly pleasuring her as best you can.

“Fuck sugar, ain’t you a good girl.” She slurs out, as you move your tongue over her cunt. “Keep it up and I’m, shit, I’m definitely fuckin’ ya.”

You whine in excitement, doubling down on your effort, jaw slightly aching as you please the criminal above you. Feeling herself get close, she grinds faster into your tongue, taking the sensations you’re willingly providing her. She finally cums in your mouth with an uncharacteristically higher pitched moan, her hips slowing until she stills.

You catch your breath rapidly as she climbs off you, leaning into her hand as she wipes your mouth of her wetness. The action causes your chest to feel tight with happiness, before she taps your cheek in a slightly condescending manner.

“Alright then doll, I’m a woman of my word.”

With that, she leans off the bed to rifle through the box, before bringing up a bottle of lube and squeezing a glob onto her fingers. With a nod of confirmation from you, she pushes two fingers slowly inside, feeling how your practically suck her in. She groans quietly, as you make a stranged gasp at the sensation. Removing them, she sinks them inside again before repeating, the wet noises from your cunt echoing off the walls.

“Hear that? Hear how much this pussy wants me?” she taunts, curling them to prod at that spot inside that makes your toes curl.

She sets a slow but firm rhythm, focusing on stretching you out for whats to come as her other hand gentle strokes circles on your thigh. You’re having the time of your life, hands still bound helplessly infront of you as your digits flex. This is exactly what you wanted from her, what you needed from her, and she hadn’t even got to the main event yet.

After a while though, and a third finger being slipped inside, you grow impatient with the growing desire for her to fuck you. So you do your best to voice that desperation, hips twitching and voice pathetically higher pitched than normal.

“You want it baby?” she says, slowing her fingers to a halt before grinning at you. “Say it nicely.”

“Can you please fuck me Ashe?” you ask.

With a nod and a quick spank to your oversensitive pussy, she leans down and grabs the strap on she was keeping which causes your eyes to widen. It’s a black harness, with a purple dildo attached. It wasn’t overly big at around 6 inches, but it certainly seemed thicker than anything you’d taken before. Suddenly glad of her prep, you watch as she moves a pillow beneath your hips, before lubing up the fake cock.

She pushes in slowly, and you both moan at the sight and sensation. God you look gorgeous, she thinks, as her red eyes watch your face contort in pleasure and the slight pain that comes with the stretch. You whimper her name softly, cunt tightening around the dildo as Ashe strokes at your hips soothingly.

“I know, I know sugar. But you can take it, I know you can take it.” She praises, bottoming out inside you. Thighs shaking, you’re grateful for the way she lets you adjust to the size, and after a few moments you offer her a shaky nod.

Smiling, she pulls out slowly and pushes you back in, getting you used to the rhythm of being fucked as the grip on your thighs tightens a little. She clearly has a lot of core strength, able to keep the pace effectively and slightly speed up when she senses you get more comfortable. The slick sounds of your pussy getting fucked by her should make you embarrassed, but the shameless noise only serves to turn you on further.

“That’s it, look at ya. Takin’ my cock so well, such a good little girl.” She grunts out, cowboy hat laying askew on her head as she keeps fucking you. You lift your bound hands to paw at her bra, before she clearly gets the hint and chuckles. Not slowing down at all, she reaches behind herself and practically rips the garment off, exposing her breasts to your gaze. You go to touch them before she grabs your wrists easily, moving them above your head as she moves your thighs up.

This new angle means she can drive the toy impossibly deep inside you, pinning your hands down and making sure you have nowhere to go, nothing to do but take. You moan louder at this, eyes nearly rolling back as you’re sure she’s fucking your brains out. The mating press makes her feel good too, the harness bumping her clit with every thrust, serving the mental image of her fucking you with physical sensation.

“So cute, like my own little doll. Maybe I should keep ya.” She drawls, causing you to whimper more at the insinuation. Hell, in this moment she could threaten to lock you up in her basement and you’d probably blindly agree, needing to feel more of the delicious friction she was providing you. Moving her one hand down, she rubs a little clumsily at your clit, causing your cunt to tighten around the dildo.

You aren’t sure how long she fucks you like that, time an illusion that pales in comparison to the pleasure of being fucked by the gang leader, but eventually you need to cum. So you tell her, beg her, which only fuels her dominate headspace further.

“Yeah keep beggin’ me, that’s right. You know who’s in control right now.” She groans out, slamming her hips against yours. Every muscle in your body tightening, you barely have time to tell her you’re gonna cum until you’re gushing around her fake cock with a drawn out moan. Grinning, she slows down, stroking at your arms.

“Good job, you looked so pretty baby.” She whispers, red nails gently dragging on your skin soothingly. Just when you’re about to thank her though when she pulls out, she grabs under your hips and flips you, landing face first into the mattress with a grunt.

“Ashe-“

“Oh come on darlin’, you didn’t think we’d just stop at one, did you?”

With that, she pushes into you for a second time from behind, your back arching. This time she doesn’t wait for you to adjust before pulling back and thrusting inside. With your loud, overstimulated moans, she grins sadistically and starts to fuck you again, your hands limply in front of your face.

“Oh fuck doll, ain’t you just the prettiest thing.” She gets out through her shaky drawn out breaths, focusing on railing you firmly into next week. Your thighs tremble with every thrust, feeling your g spot get battered by her dildo. You feel a sharp smack as she spanks your ass, and at your reaction she repeats the motion.

Eyes rolling back, your front falls into the sheets as you lose the strength to hold yourself up, moaning incessantly at her rough treatment. She fucks you like she already owns you, like you’re her property, and you love it. The sensations are so much, you find yourself whimpering her name over and over.

But a part of Ashe wants you to call her by her first name, a name she hardly lets anyone call her. But ultimately decides against it, it feels too real, somehow too intimate. Reluctant to break down her walls, she instead channels her mental doubts into fucking you better, harder, with more passion. She holds your hips for stability, pushing your hands down so you can crudely rub yourself while she fucks you.

Soon it all becomes too much, and you feel yourself barrelling towards your next orgasm quickly. Your breathy whines and whimpers let her know, as she moves her hand up your spine before nestling her fingers in your hair. She gives a sharp pull, forcing you into an arch as she coos in your ear.

“Awe baby, you gonna cum again? Gonna let me fuck another one outta ya?”

You nod dumbly, almost drooling as your pussy tightens yet again.

“Good, make some noise for me m’kay?”

Making good on her word, she thrusts into your g spot with conviction, forcing noises to come tumbling out of your throat as you cum for a third time that night, twitching and almost convulsing. This time when she slows, she pulls out for good, unclasping the harness and letting the strap fall to her side as she takes you in her arms. She tosses the cowgirl hat and nestles herself into the pillows, pulling you with her so you’re laying on her chest.

“That okay for you?” she asks, like she hasn’t just given you the railing of a lifetime, but you giggle softly anyway and nod. “Alright good, just checkin’. I’ll run ya a bath in a minute, how does that sound?”

You relax into her embrace, content to let her take care of you as you hum softly in appreciation. Her nails gently drag along your scalp, the soothing gesture threatening to send you to sleep before she can clean you up. You can’t deny how safe you feel, in the arms of someone so dangerous. But she’s showing you such affection, such softness which contradicts the rumours that swirl around her.

“Are you gonna come to the diner more?”

That innocent little question you ask, so full of hope and contentment causes an unfamiliar sensation to rise up in the cowgirl, as she glances down at you.

“You want that? You wanna see me some more?”

At your nod, she swallows thickly. You actually want to see her more, maybe as more than someone to fuck. Someone to…she doesn’t let herself finish that thought, instead smirks teasingly.

“Sure doll, gotta come back to the diner. Gotta make sure nobody else is tippin’ my favourite waitress as much as I am.”

You giggle at that, teasing her back. “Oh? So if someone tipped me higher then you’d match it?”

“I’d go beyond matchin’ it darlin’, might have to start paying your bills as my tip.”

You really laugh at her dramatics, cuddling up to her more and making her cheeks involuntarily flush. With a soft sigh, she allows herself to bask in the moment before slapping your ass gently.

“Come on then dollface, let’s get ya in the bath.”

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soulkeeper801 · 1 year ago

Text

Safe place - Twice Sana

Requested: Reader has always been someone who doesn’t let others see or know how she’s truly feeling(in terms of sadness and negative emotions) even when it comes to her girlfriend Sana. But, after an incident(you can choose…something really angsty preferably no death tho) Sana tries to get her to open up which leads to an argument and reader eventually breaking down.

Words: 1.6k

Angst? Fluff/Comfort

Sana x idol!f!reader (Y/N's group is disbanding)

“So the group is stopping all activities that were ready for the rest of the year,” one of the directors said, closing the file he was holding in his hands and giving a glance at where you were, “we’ve tried many things and not one of them have worked. I’m sorry, girls,” he continued, her gaze now filled with a hint of pity, “but we can’t do anything else, the project is over”.

You knew this would happen sooner or later. You thought you had prepared yourself to hear those words yet when they touched your ears your heart broke in a million pieces. The one thing you had worked hard for years was ending suddenly, leaving you with nothing else.

What were you supposed to do now?

“We’ll find a way,” you whispered to one of your members as you saw her hold back tears.

There was no way.

You could only give them faint hopes to fight for what was left but deep down you knew it was really over.

The ride home was silent.

No one dared to say a word, knowing very well that it was probably one of the last times you would be together in the van that got you to places that only feeded hopes that never blossomed.

“Are you having dinner with me, baby?” a text lighted up your phone screen.

And it somehow lightened up your mood at least for a second.

“I might be late, love,” you replied.

“I’m buying take out on my way home, I’ll wait for you,” she texted one more time and you left out a deep sigh.

Sana was your number one supporter. Always getting in trouble with her own company just to promote you and your group.

But not even that could save you.

As the van pulled up to your apartment building, the somber mood inside was hard to shake. You and your fellow group members slowly filed out, each lost in their own thoughts.

The weight of the failed project pressed heavily on your shoulders, and the uncertainty of the future was overwhelming.

When you entered your apartment, you couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness. The walls adorned with posters and memories of your group's journey served as a painful reminder of what was now lost.

As soon as they went to sleep, you made your way out to Sana’s apartment. It was something they all knew you would do and as always, they made sure no one would notice you were gone.

“I got your favorite,” Sana said when she saw you crossing the door frame with your spare key, “you must be so tired,” she continued, getting close to you and embracing you in a tight hug.

A hug that served not only as a welcome but also as the comfort you were looking for.

You hated to be seen as vulnerable, not in control of your own feelings and emotions so you always wore a cool mask to protect yourself. You held back all the tears that had pooled on your eyes as soon as Sana’s warmth covered you.

“You still have glitter on your hair,” she chuckled, taking a strain of bright color from your hair and shoulders but her eyes lingered a little longer on your features. She knew you too well. “Everything alright?”

Your gaze immediately went to the floor, there was no way you could lie at her while looking at her eyes. “Yeah,” you trailed off, trying to talk about anything else but the thing that was making you feel miserable. “What do we have for dinner?” you asked, taking a step towards the kitchen counter where the paper bags were placed.

Sana let you go but followed you closely with her eyes. Something was off.

As you unpacked the takeout containers on the kitchen counter, Sana leaned against the doorway, her concern evident in her gaze. She knew you better than anyone else and could tell when something was bothering you, no matter how hard you tried to hide it.

You both sat down at the small dining table, and the atmosphere in the room felt heavy with unspoken emotions. The aroma of the food filled the air, but neither of you had much of an appetite.

Sana finally broke the silence, her voice soft and understanding. "You can talk to me, you know. I can see that something's bothering you. You don't have to pretend everything's okay."

“It’s okay,” you lied one more time. Sana didn’t need to know what was happening. Your problems were yours to deal with and she didn’t have to be bothered. “This soup is amazing, where is it from?”

Sana smiled sadly. Didn’t you trust her enough?

“That Japanese place that opened last week,” she replied quietly, taking a spoonful herself to confirm what you were saying.

“We should buy from there more often,” you continued, trying to bring the conversation to a shallow topic. “Not a lot of new businesses around lately, huh?”

You lifted your gaze to find Sana looking intently at you. She had left her spoon on the side of her plate as she studied your expression looking for answers.

“Not a lot,” she replied, waiting patiently for you to go at your own pace, to process whatever was going through your mind until it was the right time for you to come forward.

Silence fell upon you two once again. You didn’t know but Sana couldn’t keep her eyes away from you.

Usually, you would tell her all about your day. Where you girls went to record, what kind of food the team got you, if anything fun happened, you would tell every detail of it.

Sana knew how much it excited you to be in this industry and how passionate you were about your job.

So it felt weird for her to have you dejected and silent during the little time you had to share everything with each other.

Sana finally broke the silence, her voice soft and understanding. "You can talk to me, baby. I can definitely see that something's wrong. You can trust me.”

You sighed, realizing that there was no point in keeping up the facade with Sana anymore. She had been your rock through all the highs and lows of your journey with the group, and you trusted her with all your soul.

“The group’s over,” were the words that left your lips.

And you felt the world crumbling around you. Saying it out loud made it ten times realer and it broke you down.

“Oh, Y/N,” Sana breathed out, reaching for you to bring you into a comforting hug.

Once again, her warmth made you feel safe but this time you let it all out, letting the tears fall freely from your eyes as your shoulders shook from the heavy sobs you weren’t able to control.

Sana held you close, offering the comfort you so desperately needed. She didn't say anything; she simply held you, letting you pour out all the pent-up emotions that had been festering inside you.

Her gentle presence was a balm for your wounded soul, and for the first time in a while, you didn't have to pretend to be strong.

As you cried in Sana's embrace, she whispered soothing words and reassurances. Her hand gently rubbed your back in a comforting rhythm, and she let you take all the time you needed to let it out.

After what felt like an eternity, your sobs began to subside, and you pulled away from Sana's embrace, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. You felt emotionally drained but also a strange sense of relief. Finally sharing your pain with someone who understood made the burden a little lighter.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” you said, a little calmer after having cried for several minutes. “The group was all that I had”.

“That’s not true,” she replied, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear to look at your face better, “You have your talent,” she assured, “you have your passion and you have the girls who I’m sure also want to continue with this path,” she continued.

She looked at you with adoration in her eyes.

“You all will leave the company after the contract is terminated so you can get together and start again as a group somewhere else,” she proposed.

You stared at Sana, her words slowly sinking in. The idea of starting anew with your group members, away from the constraints of the company that had just let you go, was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"But where would we even begin?" you asked, uncertainty still lingering in your voice.

Sana's smile grew brighter, filled with determination. "There will be a way. I believe in you, in all of you. You have the talent, the passion, and the dedication. You can build something incredible together, something that's truly yours."

Her unwavering support gave you a glimmer of hope in this otherwise dark moment. It was a daunting prospect, but the thought of creating music and art with your friends, free from corporate limitations, was a dream worth chasing.

You looked at her and her smile gave you hope. She leaned in to hold your face in her hands and instinctively you closed your eyes. Sana always knew what to say to make you feel better, to make you feel protected and safe when everything was crumbling down.

“I believe in you,” she repeated, leaving a soft kiss on your lips that lingered for a couple of seconds, “I can’t wait to see all the success you’re about to have”.

You nodded at her words, reloaded with a new sense of motivation.

As you leaned on Sana's shoulder, you realized that even when one chapter ends, another can begin. You had the talent, the passion, and, most importantly, the unwavering support of someone who believed in you.

With a grateful heart, you whispered, "Thank you, for everything," knowing that you were not alone in this journey.

#twice x f!reader #twice x reader #twice imagine #sana x f!reader #twice fluff #sana imagine #sana x reader #sana scenario #twice sana x f!reader #twice sana fluff #twice sana scenario #twice sana imagine #requested #soulkeeper801

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margowritesthings · 2 years ago

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The Long Night

pairing: modern day!Arthur Morgan x Reader word count: 914 words warnings: sick doggo, anxiety, vet waiting room authors note: I wrote this last week when my love @cowboydisaster was in the vets with her doggo Moose, but I've found myself reading it for comfort so I thought y'all might wanna read it too <3 it's just a lil comfort drabble, but I think it's kinda cute

taglist: @cowboydisaster @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @elifsukirdaghehe @reaveries @delilah-grimes @mrsarthurmorgan7 @twola @photo1030

You don’t know what time it is, can’t bring yourself to check your phone and see his little smiling face staring back at you from your wallpaper screen. Arthur is running his thumb over your knuckles softly, while you grip onto him as hard as you can. He’s your lifeline, your tether to the Earth right now and you can’t let go lest you fall off. The crook of Arthur’s neck fits your head perfectly, his muscular shoulder the perfect pillow in amongst possibly the least comfortable room you’ve ever had the displeasure of sitting in. His light blue shirt has little pools of a darker shade where your tears have fallen and clung to the cotton.

You tired eyes scan over the posters on the wall opposite you, seeing adverts for tick treatments and infographics on spaying and neutering. You and Arthur are the only two in the waiting room, as they said you could wait here until Moose was ready to be collected, so the silence is agonising. You focus hard on the sensation of his calloused thumb pad running over your softer skin, trying to keep your mind on Arthur as to not let it wander. It’s hard, not thinking of all the things that could be going wrong right now.

“He’ll be okay. Everything’s gonna be alright.” Arthur whispers, as if he has a map to exactly where your mind is right now. You exhale deeply through your nose, not enjoying how clinical everything smells whenever you try to inhale to calm yourself down.

“I know. I just miss him. Time goes so much slower when you’re in a waiting room…” you sigh, nuzzling more into Arthur’s side. You want to melt into him, want to shut your eyes and be back in your home with your boys, but you have to wait for one of them to come back from theatre.

“Lil’ man’s strong, darlin’. You raised him strong, and you did right by him. He’s gonna be fine.”

You’ll never understand how Arthur always knows just what to say. The worry swirling around in your mind that this is somehow your fault dies a little with each of your husband’s words. You did right by him. He’s gonna be fine.

“You think we did the right thing? He’s so small, I just don’t-“

“I know we did. You always do right by him. Hell, I ain’t ever seen you drive like that to get him here on time… you’re his momma, darlin’, of course you did right by him.”

There isn’t anything on this Earth but your lil guy in your arms that could possibly make you feel better, but somehow Arthur manages, just a little bit. You laugh weakly, shaking your head slightly.

“I did nearly run that poor old woman over, didn’t I?”

“I think I saw her get back up, should be alright.” He jokes, glancing down at you to witness the very first smile of the night creeping across your lips. You nudge Arthur in the side gently, just so grateful to have him. You’re about to attempt a witty comeback, but are interrupted (thank god, as you're sure reminding him of the time he ran John over on his own driveway wasn’t going to win this argument for you) by a nurse entering the room. In unison, you and Arthur stand, grasping each other's hand tightly.

“Moose Morgan?” She asks, despite you two being the only people in the room. You nod, feeling your heart pounding in your chest and your knees shake with pure anxiety. It’s only after a few seconds do you notice the smile adorning her tired face, “Everything went well. He’s awake. A little drowsy, but awake. Do you wanna see him?”

═══════☆═══════

“Hey, little Moose!” Arthur speaks in a hushed voice, not wanting to disrupt the peace of the room. Moose perks up, peering out of his tiny cone to find the origin of the noise. He loves Arthur, has done since the day you first brought him home to ‘meet the kids’ (your dogs and horses), and it shows by the way his tail wags at the very sound of his dad’s voice, “How you doin’, buddy? We missed ya’.”

Words fail you when you finally lay eyes on him, his fluffy little body all curled up in a blanket. He sits up when he sees you, so very excited to see his momma that he lets out a little yip. Tears pool in the corners of your eyes as you kneel down to him, lifting the blanket up and him with it. It takes a second of manoeuvring around the cone, but you managed to place a soft kiss on Moose’s head. He tries to return the gesture, but his tiny tongue won’t reach past his new outfit. You giggle, holding him close to you.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you- Momma’s got you.”

Arthur wraps an arm around your shoulder, rubbing up and down your arm softly. He glances out of the window of the clinic, suddenly struck with the best idea when he realises the sun is rising.

“Hey, how ‘bout we go get you both a treat? Starbucks should be open soon, and I think this calls for one of them pup cup things. Whatchu’ think?”

Moose yips, apparently already feeling much improved.

“I think Moose has spoken.”

Arthur chuckles, reaching to scratch behind the little dog’s ear,

“Right you are, boss man.”

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan drabble #arthur morgan fanfiction

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littleperilstories · 2 years ago

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The Prince of Thieves: A House is Not a Home

Mood Boards | Chapter Titles | Also on A03!

Warnings: Family conflict/estrangement, mention of arrest and execution, fear/worry

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Word count: 2159 || Approx reading time: 9 mins

A House is Not a Home

Teaser: Breathless worry keeps me paralyzed and awake for a few minutes—what if someone else comes in?—but as exhaustion tugs at the strings of my body and mind, it eventually pulls me down into the depths of uneasy sleep.

Colette

Climbing the trellis is as easy as I remember.

Creeping around to the back of the house was a little tricky, but it’s close to noon now, and most folks in this neighbourhood are either busy eating their midday meal or at work. Thankfully, that means no one is around to watch me scale the wall.

The real concern: Is the window unlocked?

She hasn’t left her window flung wide open, that’s for sure—too cold for that now, this side of the autumn equinox.

She’s never locked me out before. It’s been a long while, though. Perhaps too long.

I pause on her balcony to catch my breath and listen for shouts of alarm. No voices, however, creep through the walls from within, nor do I hear any concerned neighbours howling about a robber.

With trembling fingers, I press against the glass.

It’s not locked.

Warmth envelopes me as soon as I slip into her cluttered bedroom, the faint but familiar smell of perfume tickling my nose. How tempting it is to flop onto the lush mattress, her four-poster bed worlds away from my cot at home. I resist the urge, though, instead tiptoeing across the room to her vanity. There—on the mirror, hung with string from one of the ornate gilt curlicues that adorn its edges, is a child’s drawing of two girls, hand-in-hand and smiling widely. A quick motion has the paper flipped so the bare, unmarked side faces outwards.

Now, on to the next challenge: opening the damned squeaky door without attracting anyone’s attention.

Before either of us were born, Verity’s bedroom used to be the servants’ quarters. It became her chamber once she left the nursery, but there is one little room, retained after a long-ago renovation and hopefully still unused, that suits my needs. The perfect place to camp out for a while.

If Will talks, and no doubt he’s going to give in at some point, he’ll lead the constabulary straight here.

Guilt nudges against me. Now that we’ve left our house in the city, Jamie and Geoff might actually be camping out in the woods. Perhaps they’re squatting in that old cabin we found last year—a risky move, though, if it’s now occupied or being used by hunters.

Truly, I’ve no idea where they’ve gone; we agreed not to share our locations. Just in case.

Keeping our hiding places secret from one another is an entirely pointless endeavour when there’s only three of us, because separating Jamie and Geoff is impossible. No one can even suggest it without bringing a slightly feral look into Geoff’s eyes. If their spot gets compromised, they’ll both go down: dragged away or killed in some idiotic, supposedly romantic blaze of glory. It’ll just be me left in their wake.

And then what?

Still. I’m grateful for one thing, at least, and it’s that if Jamie and Geoff don’t know I’m here, they can’t ask questions about why I’m here.

Christ, Colette, you’ve had a secret, big, warm house waiting for you this whole fucking time and you never said a damn thing?

The door to the old room squeaks, just as I expected. By the time I make it inside, I’m drenched in sweat—not from exertion but from sheer anxiety. Everyone is downstairs, though, and I hear no frantic footsteps storming my way.

Good, because I’m fucking exhausted.

There’s not much in here but some old clothes—perhaps outgrown or declared out of fashion by Verity or my stepmother. They lie heaped on an old chair whose splintered leg makes it obviously unsafe to sit upon. I pile the clothes into a makeshift bed on the floor, giving each one a good kick in case anything with wings, tails, or too many legs lurks within their folds. When I’m satisfied that my sleeping spot isn’t going to start chewing on me, I finally let myself sink into my nest. A deep red cloak, stained along its hem with old mud, makes a perfect blanket.

Breathless worry keeps me paralyzed and awake for a few minutes—what if someone else comes in?—but as exhaustion tugs at the strings of my body and mind, it eventually pulls me down into the depths of uneasy sleep.

~~~

Gentle knocking wakes me, tapping against the walls of shifting, dizzy dreams.

“You in there?”

At first, I can’t remember where I am or how I got here or whose voice is disturbing me. The question repeats. “Lettie? You in there?”

There’s only one person in the entire world who’s allowed to call me Lettie.

“I’m here.” This—this is the hardest part, every time. The moment before Verity opens the door, and I don’t know who else, if anyone, is on the other side. Until the door creaks open, I can only accept that I am at her mercy and hope with all my heart that, this time, she hasn’t decided to rat me out.

She squints through the dimness, surveying me with a mix of joy and concern. “It’s been so long.” My stepsister clutches a candle, spilling warm light across the floor, illuminating the surely amusing sight of me sprawled amongst her old dresses. “Why? I’ve missed you.”

Those three words are all it takes to send tears streaming down my cheeks.

Her eyes widen. “No, I—what? Why are you crying? Lettie, I—” Abandoning her candle a safe distance from my bed, she drops to her knees and flings her arms around me. “Colette? What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? If only she knew. What isn’t wrong? I gasp for breath, trying to quell this embarrassing display I had not fucking intended on performing, and Verity lets me wait to answer. “I’m fine. I… I’ve just missed you, too.”

She strokes my hair, sisterly worry on her face. “You’re too thin. Have you been eating enough?And look at you. You need a bath. You’ve got leaves in your hair, did you know? Don’t you take care of yourself when you’re away? Where have you been?”

The barrage is annoying and comforting at once; we have the same conversation every time I come back here. She is well aware that I won’t tell her where I go when I’m not creeping into her room through the window. “Verie. You know what I’m going to say.”

“I know, I know, but…” She sighs. “But everytime, I hope things will be different. That’s… That’s all right, right?”

I squeeze her hand but don’t give an answer. I love this about my sister. She never lets go of that hope.

Brushing a curl of hair off my forehead, Verity says, “I’ll go find you some food when it won’t arouse too much suspicion. What would you like?”

“I don’t mind,” I say. It’s the truth. Whatever she brings will be delicious. And perfect. And needed. “Do you think you can get me some water, though?” I wrestle with the one bag I brought with me, searching for my flask.

The smile she gives as she takes it is tinged with sadness. “Of course, Lettie.”

Silence surrounds me again once she’s gone. This time, she leaves the door ajar. Snuggling deeper into my nest, I think again of Jamie and Geoff. I hope they’re keeping warm. I hope they’re safe. If they got caught, I wouldn’t even know—I might not even find out until word spread. Or until the execution notice went up.

The very thought sends a shiver down my spine.

When Verity returns and hands me a plate piled high with far too much food—dried apples, bread with jam, a boiled egg, and syrupy stewed plums, she settles into my makeshift bed, cuddling next to me despite the fact that I am, indeed, covered in grime. Her blue dress, pale-and-dark hues criss-crossed in dainty plaid, will catch smudges easily if she’s not careful, but that doesn’t stop her. “I miss you,” she says again.

Plum syrup oozes across the plate, threatening to drown the egg in sugary liquid. When was the last time I was this close to something so sweet? “I miss you too, Verie.” There is comfort in repeating these lines to one another. We are actors, locked in these eternal theatrics. I know she believes she wants to break away from the stage, but she has no idea how much safer she is within the confines of our little script. “Thanks for always leaving the window unlocked.”

“You know I’d never lock you out. Or turn you away.” Her serious gaze meets mine. “Will you ever tell me?”

The tattoo on my arm burns. “No.”

“Why not? Are you in trouble?”

Only if we get caught. “No.”

I can feel the curiosity rolling off her in waves, but she drops the subject…only to move right on to another one that’s arguably even worse. “Are you ever going to come home?”

Shaking my head before she’s even finished asking, I repeat, “No.”

Of course, that’s not the answer she wants to hear. “Things are different, you know. He…he misses you. Greatly. He still looks so sad sometimes. Stares out the—”

It takes a great deal of self-control not to slap my palms over my ears. I can’t listen to such things. “Verie. I just can’t.”

For so many reasons.

Coming home for real, for good, would invite my little sister into the life I’ve flung myself into, and I cannot do that to her. If Verity somehow got caught up in IA…if she ever got hurt, or arrested, or god forbid, executed, I would never forgive myself.

I would rather die.

Better to keep our stories separate, and if that means I only ever see her in sceret, in the times where I need somewhere to stay, curled in the spare chamber attached to her bedroom, then so be it.

And no matter what she says, some wounds don’t heal. If his sadness and guilt are festering still, six years later, that’s his problem. Not mine.

“He loves you,” she says softly.

I don’t care.

He looked me in the eye, told me I would do as he said, that I would marry some nice boy to run his mill after he was gone, looked at me as if I couldn’t be trusted take his place myself, and when I told him no, that I was never going to marry anyone, that I should be the one to inherit the business—

The look on his face.

And then the revelation, long locked behind tightly closed lips, of why I was such a disappointment, why I should marry, why I should become someone else’s problem.

You’re not even my flesh and blood.

A secret, only mine to know and yet kept from me until I was eighteen years old. I don’t even know who your real father was. For all I know, he was some worthless piece of shit. She never said. A secret that died with my mother. In a moment of rage, he hurled it at me like a weapon. An arrow straight through the heart.

I left, swearing I would never come back.

That oath turned out to be a lie, but I have not laid eyes on my father—or rather, the man who is not my father—nor he on me, in six years.

“I’ve made you sad,” Verity says. “You’ve barely touched your plums.”

Blinking back tears, I offer the plate back to her. “Want to help?”

“No,” she says, but after a moment, she plucks one of the sticky treats off the china with her bare fingers and pops it into her mouth. “Won’t you tell me something that’s bothering you? Perhaps I can help.”

A beautiful soul, my sister. Caring and kind and sweet and so naive.

“I lied to a friend,” I say. This truth, at least, is harmless enough—well, harmless to her—to share. “I did it to avoid hurting him. But it was wrong. And I know it was wrong.” And now I’m trapped. “If I tell him, he’ll be hurt that I lied, and he’ll be hurt by what I have to say.”

“This friend, is he a beau?”

I wrinkle my nose. “Ugh. No, never. He’s a dear friend, that’s all. And he has someone, anyway.” Rolling my eyes, nudging her with my elbow, I say, “Pay attention. Help me assuage some of my guilt.”

“Can’t do that,” she says gently, and I hate her for being right. “You ought to tell him whatever it is you lied about.”

“I know.” The thought makes me feel ill. “I don’t know when I’ll see him next.”

“He’s away? Travelling?”

Her wild guessing makes me giggle. “Not exactly.”

Verity swipes another plum from my plate. “I do not understand your life, Lettie.”

“Good.” I lay my dusty hand on her cheek, my throat aching. “I hope you never do.”

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Tagging: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @gala1981, @kixngiggles .

[Banner ID: A narrow horizontal, rectangular banner featuring a barred archway. The bars and the stone walls evoke the feeling of a dungeon or prison. There are burning candles on either side of the archway. The title of the story, The Prince of Thieves, appears in white text in the centre of the image. The author's username, abbreviated to LPS from littleperilstories, appears in the bottom right corner in partially transparent text. End ID.]

#lps the prince of thieves #whump #dungeon whump #whump writing #whump story #whump fiction #original fiction #original writing #original story #original content #whumpblr #whump community #writeblr #lps-writes #oc Colette Haris #oc whump

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nel-world · 4 months ago

Text

FEEDBACKK

INT. NICK'S APARTMENT - DAY

Nick sits in a modestly furnished apartment. His walls are adorned with posters of classic films and theater productions. He rehearses a monologue in front of a mirror, his frustration evident as he stumbles over the lines.

NICK (angrily) Why is it so hard to get noticed?

INT. COFFEE SHOP - DAY

Nick sits across from a FRIEND, holding a coffee cup. He speaks animatedly, his passion and desperation clear.

FRIEND So, how’s the acting going?

NICK It’s been rough. Auditions are scarce, and I’m barely scraping by. I just feel like I’m running out of time.

FRIEND You’ll get there. Have you thought about dating?

NICK (sighs) I don’t even have time for that right now. I need to focus on my career.

INT. NICK'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Nick sits at his desk, writing in a journal. He pauses, contemplating his words.

NICK (voice-over) I just want to be seen, to be recognized for my talent. And maybe... maybe find someone who understands this crazy dream of mine.

INT. ANITA'S APARTMENT - DAY

Anita, 20s, is surrounded by notes and scripts. She’s working on a new musical, her frustration showing as she crumples up a piece of paper and tosses it aside.

ANITA (to herself) Why can’t I get this chorus right?

INT. ANITA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Anita sits by the window, looking out at the city lights. She’s on a video call with a FRIEND, her face illuminated by the screen’s glow.

FRIEND How are things with the musical?

ANITA It’s tough. I’m juggling so much and still trying to find my footing. I just wish I had someone who could understand this side of me.

INT. MODEST-SIZED THEATER - CASTING CALL - DAY

ANITA AND NICK REHEARSE A SCENE FOR AN AUDITION INSIDE A THEATER.

ANITA Sure, because whatever you're doing now is just too brilliant.

NICK Oh, I'm trying to start a business. It’s going to take time, okay?

ANITA I don't really have time for this.

NICK Look, I know it seems like I'm wasting time, but this is important to me.

ANITA Important? More important than us?

NICK It's not a competition, Anita. This is something I have to do.

ANITA Well, while you're off chasing dreams, I'm stuck dealing with reality.

NICK And what’s that supposed to mean?

ANITA It means I can't keep waiting around for you to figure things out.

NICK I'm not asking you to wait. I'm asking you to believe in me.

ANITA Believe in you? Nick, I've always believed in you. But believing doesn't pay the bills.

They lock eyes, continuing with the scene.

EXT. THEATER - DAY

Nick walks out of the theater.

Anita, with coffee in hand, accidentally spills it while walking out. Nick turns around and watches.

ANITA Oh, no! I’m having one of those days...

NICK (offers to help) Need help?

Nick helps her.

ANITA Thanks. I’m Anita, by the way. You were really good there with the scene.

NICK I'm Nick.

ANITA I'm casting for a short script a friend of mine is working on, and there's a role in it that you'd be perfect for.

NICK What's the short about?

ANITA It's a slice-of-life story about a couple trying to navigate their relationship and careers. It's raw and real.

NICK (nods) Who's directing?

ANITA Maria Reynolds.

NICK I like her work. That's actually cool. When are the auditions?

ANITA They're on Tuesday next week at Champion Studios.

NICK Cool.

ANITA I can send you all the info about the auditions.

NICK Sure.

Anita writes down all the information and gives it to Nick.

NICK It's Friday. Any plans for later?

ANITA Going to a movie with my friends.

NICK Which one?

ANITA Avengers. I love it.

NICK I love movies. Do you have a favorite movie?

ANITA No, I won't answer that.

NICK Come on, that's an easy question.

ANITA No, I don't want to be judged.

NICK I promise I won't judge you.

Anita pulls out her phone and shows Nick a poster of Dear John.

ANITA My favorite movie.

Nick smiles.

NICK Are you serious?

ANITA What? I love that movie. Maybe you should ask yourself why you're criticizing a film that lots of people love.

NICK I didn't say anything. I actually love it.

ANITA You do?

NICK (smiling) Yeah, I do.

ANITA Well, I got to go, running late for an appointment.

INT. NICK'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Nick watches an old film, reflecting on his dream with a mix of hope and doubt. He takes a deep breath and starts practicing again, showing his determination despite the challenges.

Nick sits at his desk, staring at his script. He’s distracted, replaying his brief conversation with Anita.

NICK (voice-over) Maybe... meeting her wasn’t so bad. She seemed genuinely interested in what I’m working on.

INT. ANITA'S APARTMENT - DAY

Anita works on her musical script, still troubled. She pauses, contemplating her next steps, and begins to realize that balancing her personal and professional life might be key to overcoming her obstacles.

Anita lies in bed, flipping through the information Nick gave her. She pauses, thinking about her conversation with Nick.

ANITA (voice-over) He was kind of charming. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see him again.

Anita and Nick bump into each other at auditions/improv groups etc.

EXT. NYC - DAY

Anita and Nick meet outside one of the auditions.

ANITA How did the audition go?

NICK It went well. I got shortlisted. How about you?

ANITA I'm working on a musical. Hmm, where did you get that hat from?

NICK You don't like this hat?

ANITA It's funny-looking. Maybe it will look better another way. Hold this.

Anita adjusts the hat. Nick looks at himself on his phone camera.

ANITA Better now.

Anita notices something in Nick's hair.

ANITA (CONT'D) You've got a ladybug in your hair!

Nick tries to brush it off, but Anita immediately stops him.

ANITA (CONT'D) Wait, wait! It's a sign of good luck! Make a wish and then blow it away.

Nick frowns, but he gives in and closes his eyes.

ANITA (CONT'D) Hey, what did you wish for?

NICK If I told you, it wouldn't come true.

ANITA Come on, tell me! Spill the beans.

NICK I'm trying to get funding for a solo project/show I'm working on. It’s about a guy struggling to make it as a performer. It’s kind of a reflection of my own experiences.

ANITA (surprised) You're working on a show? So cool!

ANITA (CONT'D) You know what would be fun? We should do something. Have you been to the Guggenheim Museum?

NICK Guggenheim who?

ANITA Guggenheim, he's a sculptor.

ANITA (CONT'D) You've never heard of Guggenheim?

NICK No.

ANITA Boy, you need some educating.

NICK Why don't we go up to the museum? We'll make a day of it.

Anita shakes her head.

ANITA You've got to tell me more about your show, though. Actually, we should write something; we can shoot a TikTok reel. Something bold, something that grabs the audience.

NICK I haven't written anything good in a while...

ANITA What, time's ticking. Think of something. How about this? I'm a real estate agent, you're a potential buyer—annoying, but with potential.

NICK (unsure) Sure?

ANITA Let's improvise a scene but with some music in the background.

Anita, with a smirk, plays a song on her phone and starts dancing.

ANITA (CONT'D) Come on, I cannot do this part alone...

NICK But I don't know how to dance.

Anita and Nick dance together. The music stops.

NICK (CONT'D) How do you dance so well?

ANITA I took classes, I teach now, part-time.

NICK Is there anything that you don't do?

Anita laughs.

ANITA I don't know. (beat) One day I want to own a studio but for that, my friend, we need to make money and that's not happening at the moment.

NICK Why?

ANITA I'm not being paid as I should. (beat) But I'm thinking to finally speak up.

NICK Where do you teach?

ANITA At Broadway Dance Studio.

They look at the clip together.

ANITA (CONT'D) Not bad for a first take. We need to tighten up the dialogue, though.

NICK Agreed. I can edit this clip tonight.

INT. ART GALLERY - DAY

Nick and Anita walk through an art gallery together.

NICK You know, I never imagined myself as an art gallery guy.

ANITA There’s a first time for everything. You should be open to new experiences. You might even like it.

NICK (sincerely) I already like it, especially when you’re around.

They exchange a meaningful glance, their connection deepening.

INT. NICK'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Nick and Anita sit together, brainstorming ideas for Nick’s solo project.

NICK So, the main character should have a unique quirk, something that makes him stand out.

ANITA Maybe he has a fascination with classic films, like you.

NICK And he meets a woman who challenges him, just like you’re doing now.

ANITA I like that. It adds a nice dynamic.

They smile at each other, feeling the chemistry between them.

NICK I think we’ve got something here.

ANITA I do too. And who knows? Maybe this collaboration could lead to something even more exciting.

Nick takes her hand, their eyes locking in a moment of shared understanding and possibility.

FADE OUT.

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karinasbaby · 8 months ago

Text

sim jaeyun — brighter days inc.

— “you’ll wait for my love? “i waited for your love.”

pairing. fem!reader x sim jaeyun.

warnings. angst, my heaviest angst post yet tbh, fluff moments here & there, layla !!, lots of miscommunication, lots of crying and panicking moments, no / semi happy ending :(

word count. 12.3k

synopsis. just how bad was the punishment of falling in love with sim jaeyun?

— a, note. i apologise in advance for this, i would like to point out that this was completely and fully inspired by the we can’t be friends music video along with the entire eternal sunshine album by ariana !! i only added minor details & scenes here and there but hope u enjoy ! <3 p.s !! this whole post is viewed better in dark mode !!

「 just wanna let this story die, and i’ll be alright. 」

The soft fabric of your shirt soothed your trembling fingers, gentle wind breezing past you once the bell of the door jingled ahead of you, indicating the arrival of another patient wretched with agony and their own pain.

Your vision danced between the walls, the countless photos that hung on the brick pillars claiming a guaranteed peace of mind with the eye catching and loud titles of “brighter days ahead!”, different posters inked with the participants’ positive reviews towards the operation that haunted the patients whom were anxiously sat next to you, some wiping their tears while others gazed hopelessly into the wooden floors, their legs shaking up and down the longer the nurse took to call their names.

You pulled your jacket closer to your chest, in hopes of it protecting you from the words printed onto the paper in front of you, you had read the sentences over a hundred times by now yet you still couldn’t bring yourself to fully accept them.

You have given extensive thought behind your decision and give “Brighter Days Inc.” the exclusive permission to remove this person completely from your memory:

— ☐ yes | ☐ no

Closing your eyes multiple times while chanting “please let me wake up” was deemed futile, you couldn’t bring yourself to face the reality of the situation you had put yourself in. Though you had your reasons, countless of them. You had every right to sit in the waiting room for this clinic, yet you still couldn’t gather up the courage to fully accept the weight of the truth.

The great weight of the truth that weighed heavily on your shoulders, you knew this was the correct decision. You knew you weren’t physically affecting anyone by doing this, you practically weren’t going to hurt after this, yet your actions still hurt the present you, the one who was able to sense a thin veil of tears forming along her waterline for the nth time since you stepped foot into this clinic.

And you were doing this to save her from the pain, from the heartbreak you had been suffering through. The harsh wood of the board felt hurtful against your skin, the piece of wood agonisingly heavy atop your fingertips, your hand placed the pen in your lap before it instinctively moved towards your neck, caressing the special pine cone necklace that adorned your chest.

The feeling of the pendant beneath your touch felt gut wrenching, your whole being freezing as the sudden sharp edges grazed your skin, the pendant that held so many great memories to you that you hoped would comfort you for the last time felt like the thorns of a rose splitting your fingertips.

It was the sudden sharp dig of the edge of the pine that reminded you of a precious memory, one of the most special days in your life when your two favourite people walked into it.

Your foot sunk deeply into the snow beneath you, the wind a cold breeze blowing against your blushed face, your nose a distinct red shade as you sniffed due to the cold weather, hands digging further into your warm pockets to allow the blood to rush back to your frozen fingertips.

The breath turned into a glowing mist ahead of your eyes as it tumbled past your lips, you smiled softly at the sound of your best friend announcing her departure to collect more wood for the fireplace the two of you had wanted to create, you turned your head to the side to locate her small figure slowly disappearing into the slight fog that started to form a few minutes before the two of you had arrived to the small forest.

You took notice of how heavy the snow was, the ground a vast white that glittered with the sunrays, the sudden urge to lay on the floor that appeared as faux clouds and cotton overcame your senses and before you could rethink your decisions, you were already surrounded by the comforting cold of the snow hugging your every limb and every inch of your body.

Memories of your childhood flashed through your eyes, the happy moments that were filled with laughter exchanged between you and your friend as the two of you made snow angels, joyful giggles flew in the air around you once you both stood up to compare the shapes to one another and chuckle at the ridiculous outcomes.

Before you could fully indulge yourself in the memory, you felt a foreign object pressing against your foot, your eyes shot downwards to the sight of a dark circular item— a pine cone?

Your heartbeat unexpectedly picked up its pace, was there someone around? You weren’t in an area that had pine trees around them, they were atleast a few miles away from you.

Loud rustling reached your ears from ahead, what sounded like a person quickly walking— in an abnormally fast way that made you prepare yourself for the appearance of any random person, your senses heightening at the possible danger awaiting, the shadow slowly appeared in front of the fog, a really short one that confused you.

Once the mist finally had dispersed, revealing the last outcome you had been expecting— an adorable puppy that jumped its way through the snow, you stared at the shimmering fur that had gotten covered with small bits of the sparkling snow, the puppy barked at you in excitement, their tail swaying behind them in the snow while their shining eyes studied your face.

Your hands held onto the pine cone, a smile stretching out on your face once you noticed that the puppy was waiting for you to return the item, sitting in front of you patiently in a well behaved manner, a clear indication of how attentive and careful their owner is.

“Is this yours, hm?” You questioned, voice playful and low in fear of possibly disturbing the overly excited puppy who only barked in delight at your question, and as your hand was reaching forward to return the beloved pine cone, you and the sweet puppy’s ears picked up the distressed yells a large distance away.

The puppy turned its body towards the direction it came from, breathing the cold air in before barking countless times as if to signal their location and on cue the rushed footsteps that dug into the snow approached your figures closer.

“There you are, Layla.” A young boy appeared from between the twinkling mist, his features sharp and eye catching the closer he walked towards both of you, a charming smile etching its way onto his chiseled face at the sight of his beloved dog, “I was getting worried, pretty girl.” He breathed out in relief before finally noticing your presence.

His back suddenly straightened, shoulders pulling back while his eyes widened before the prettiest pink you’ve ever seen dusted his ears and cheeks, “oh hi.” He breathed out shyly, he could feel his heartbeat drumming in his ears as the last thing he was expecting to find Layla next to was a gorgeous girl.

You couldn’t help the quickened thump of your own heart either, the appearance of this young guy that was clad in a large dark coat, black pants along with a matching hat that revealed small peaks of his dark brown hair had your mind reeling, he was undeniably handsome.

“hello.” You whispered back, instinctively holding the pine cone towards your chest as holding eye contact with the beautiful man only made your body buzz further with excitement and nervousness, the guy also losing his internal battle with the possibility of facing you as his eyes had only been following his dog’s moving tail in hopes of calming his own nerves down.

The said puppy’s gaze danced between her owner and the new friend, unfamiliar with her owner’s sudden shy side appearing in front of a potential friend making her suspicions arise, and the moment she was about to bark in the direction of her owner once again, the guy spoke out.

“Did she tackle you onto the floor?” He asked, tone laced with concern at the realisation of your position on the snow while you held the pine cone in your hand, “no!” You quickly denied once you lifted your head and saw his worried expression, thousands of apologies disappeared from his tongue at your words and he couldn’t help but breathe another sigh of relief, “I’m actually making… snow angels.” Your voice had dropped a few octaves towards the end.

Quieting your own words to hide them from the handsome guy that you prayed wouldn’t make fun of you for your childish behaviour from your first ever encounter, you were preparing yourself for the worst reaction to slap you across the face and for his laughter to reach your ears yet— “oh I love snow angels!” His excited voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

You turned to face him again, to see the genuine excitement and fondness lacing his face before patting the snow next to you, a warm smile gracing your features that made the unknown boy’s heart to leap in his chest, “come join me!”

The loud ring of the bell harshly pulled you out of the sweet memory into the reality you had been dreading, all of your senses returning to the present made a sinking feeling take over your heart, by the time you leave this place you won’t be able to remember this precious memory.

Your hand instinctively wrapped around the pine cone, in attempt to protect and shield it from the possibility of disappearing, the idea of one of the most precious days of your life dissipating from your memory lane made your shoulders sink further, the anxious feeling of pure unease settled deeply into your bones, and before you were able to prepare yourself further, you felt your throat closing up.

And as if your own body had turned its back towards you, your gaze had shifted beneath the cursed words to the bottom of the paper, where a clear and bold line awaited your pen to grace upon it.

signature: ________

Your vision then travelled towards the boxes, the finality of your decision settling into your limbs when your hand finally moved from your necklace to hold onto the pen again, and with a heavy heart along with a new veil of tears aligning your eyes, you finally allowed the first drop of ink to land on the paper.

☒ yes | ☐ no

The wind around you turned colder, it felt as if the breeze was scolding you for such decisions, the guilt by now had started to eat you up alive, tainting your brain and choking you up on your own unshed tears, you tried to breathe in deeply, attempting to calm your heaving chest down as with each passing second you felt your lungs constricting further.

“Miss, are you ready?” The nurse had suddenly appeared next to you, caring and worried eyes scanning your shaky figure on the seat, knuckles white around the wooden board that held your signature and confirmation for the procedure, your head lowered in shame of the sight of your tears being revealed, though all the hurt was evident in your body language.

“This way, miss.” She quickly guided you towards the office, your hand reached out to carry the box next to you, the cardboard that contained all of your memories that were stuffed into items, her hand reached out to hold the trembling board from your weak one while the other hovered around your lower back, bringing an odd sense of comfort for you as your feet walked you towards your own heartbreak.

The walls of the office appeared cold to the touch, the solid floor beneath you brought the aura of seriousness for you, almost as if awakening you from your hurtful thoughts to the reality of the situation, there was no turning back now. Then with each step that you took towards the chair, memories of this morning took over your mind.

Layla, your precious puppy sat ahead of your crouched figure in front of the bed, you sat atop the mattress that felt so unwelcoming, so foreign to you, as if you hadn’t slept multiple times between the same sheets with your love before.

Your puppy was cautious, big shining eyes studying every tear drop that ascended down the curve of your cheekbone, her own body slouching with each sob that wrecked through your body, “I’m sorry.” The yellow light from your bedside table casted a soft glow on both of your small figures, Layla reached towards you, one of her paws landing besides you on the bed as she lifted herself up while the other was placed gently against your leg.

“I can’t continue staying here, baby.” You explained to her, with each break in your voice her ears dropped lower, the sadness and confusion evident all over her adorable face, long gone was the look of excitement and pure love that painted her face whenever she saw you, as if she was able to understand your words she pushed her fluffy body towards you more.

“I can’t be with you, or jaeyun anymore.” You whispered, sweaty and cold palms reached out towards her small face, her golden fur comforting you as it brushed against your skin, you allowed her loving presence to curtain over the overwhelming sense of fright that your stomach was unable to digest, her familiar scent coating your senses bringing a feeling of ease into your panicked state.

“I love you so much.” You whispered to your little cupid, the one who had brought you together with your first true love. The one who had unknowingly brought so much happiness and joy to your dull life with her and her father’s presence.

“Are you ready, miss?” The doctor called out, dragging you out from the reality that only existed in your head now, a cloud of doom now hovered above your head as there was no space to return back to, this was it. That was your last time with Layla, ever.

The pill of the reminder suddenly seemed to large to swallow, the thought of an eternal separation from your beloved little cupid felt agonising to you, the tightening in your chest worsened, your fingers dug into your own palm to cause the tiniest bit of satisfaction when the pain travelled throughout your nerves, you deserved this.

You had known this was the correct decision a long time ago, this was the only way you had been able to save yourself but god how could you be so selfish at the same time? How could you leave two very important people behind you and live in eternal bliss? You heart began to thunder against your ribs, each thump begging you to return, to turn back on your footsteps and go back home.

To return to your love, to your small family, to endure the pain and the sting of the knowledge that jaeyun would never view you the way you had done.

To return to your angel, the one who sat by the door with her tail swaying behind her excitedly at the sight of the door opening, in hopes of a possible walk with her best friend, then her tail suddenly paused atop the wooden floor while her pointy and excited ears dropped, breaking your heart when you crouched down to kiss her head for the final time, in hopes of your feelings conveying to her through the loving contact, atleast for the last time.

You knew the love you held for him had to be dissipated. Though the pure, innocent adoration and devotion your heart carried for him didn’t deserve to be gone. Yet it wasn’t worth putting Jaeyun through possible pain and suffering.

If only you had known from the start that this was the consequence of your actions of inviting Jaeyun to create snow angels with you on that morning would lead you to the punishment of falling in love with Jaeyun, you would’ve never stepped foot into the snow that day.

The doctor held your hand gently, his eyes held nothing but sympathy and pity for you, your fingers pale and shaky in his hold as he placed the small device on your index finger, the pulse reader instantly showing your quickened heartbeat on the screen, “the procedure is going to be a quick and painless one…” the doctor’s words echoed throughout your eardrums, each word drifting off from one ear to the other as your vision was stuck on the numbers constantly picking up.

As if a chain had been tightened around your neck, your throat closed up further, you suppressed every sob that threatened to escape from you, your feet had gotten numb on the chair at some point while you shut your eyes with reassuring words replaying in your head in attempts to soothe yourself, yet each one was being repeated atop of an image of a smiling jaeyun behind your closed eyes.

The nurse behind you had brought the two iron pieces closer to your temples, each one glowing with a red light, indicating the disconnection while they approached your skin, and once both pieces were attached to you as if they were pieces of magnets, your heart only sunk further in your body.

The doctor exchanged incoherent words with the nurse that your ears weren’t able to comprehend, your senses only picking up the constant beeping of the monitor, each beat picked up its speed, symbolising how your heart was beating rapidly at the thought of your one and only love, at the thought of losing him entirely in less than a few minutes.

Your eyes then landed on the screen besides you, blue lights blinding your sight as you took in the multiple tabs open on the screen with “generating link” as the largest one, the percentage increased quickly, each number made your breath turn shorter as the gravity was finally settling in, the small sting that you felt on the sides of your head was incomparable to the ache of your heart, still filled with so much useless hope after all these months.

“Are you ready?” The doctor asked, a consoling smile etched onto his features, you nodded quickly, eager to get the procedure done with now before your weak heart convinced you to run outside of this clinic and into the arms of the man you fell in love with.

“Alright then.. we should be starting…” the doctor’s voice slowly disappeared, his words gradually faded away from you as your eyes remained shut while the machine forced you to a trip down your beloved memory lane, your memory path that was dedicated for sim jaeyun only.

The first memory you had shared with him after your first encounter played in front of your closed eyes, you remembered this one in a crystal clear way, the sight of you and Jaeyun walking hand in hand was imprinted onto the back of your eyelids, the familiar sight making your heart jump into your throat.

“I’m gonna win you the teddy bear!” Jaeyun shouted excitedly as he walked, his grip on your hand firm yet gentle while he made his way through the crowd in the carnival, rushing towards the claw machine quickly, bumping into random people every few seconds making you laugh at his enthusiasm, unaware of jaeyun’s heart thundering in his chest at the sound of your laughter.

“You really don’t have to, Jake.” You rushed besides him and the second the baby blue and pink lights of the machine landed on your smiling face he felt his breath hitching in his throat, your shining eyes presenting as windows to your excitement and pure joy you felt besides him made his heart leap in his chest, “but i want to.” he breathed out gently, mesmerised besides your distracted frame.

your eyes studied the glass window curiously, jaeyun was confused as to why he could tell exactly when your eyes landed on the teddy bear he mentioned, confused as to why he was able to study all of your expressions so well so soon, to why they mattered and intrigued him so much, surely the fleeing thought of cradling your face gently into his arms was an intrusive one, and totally not because of his own feelings and urge to do so, right?

his hands reached out to push his coin into the slot before reaching towards the small handle, his fingers buzzed with excitement and anxiety, the need to win this teddy bear for you chanting throughout his mind as he lowered the claw onto the fluffy toy, and once the iron claws wrapped around the bear, your hand sneaked its way between both of your figures to lace with his fingers, a soft squeeze of encouragement that made the boy’s heart thump needily.

“You got it, jake!” you beamed from besides him, you quickly held the fluffy toy in your arms, hugging the precious teddy close to you, the sight making jake’s world slow down its rotation, his heart jumping into his throat as he took in the sight of your happy expression, your sweet and thankful words falling onto his ear before they travelled out the other, he was hypnotised, your happiness casting a spell on him effortlessly.

“Jaeyun..” he suddenly breathed out, snapping back into reality with a soft, loving smiling permanently etching its way onto his face, “hmm?” You questioned, moving your sparkling eyes from the toy to his handsome face, his sweet grin made rose dust along your cheeks, he reached out to hold your hand before he spoke out again, “call me jaeyun.”

“Okay, jaeyun.” You chuckled affectionately at him, one hand intertwined with his slender fingers while the other held the teddy close to your heart, “what are you going to name it?” His eyes dropped back onto the teddy, quickly switching the topic as his heart felt like it was on the verge of exploding the longer he drowned in the ocean of your eyes.

“Jakey.” You smiled at the sight of his eyes widening, eyebrows lifting as he audibly laughed, the sound ringing like melodies in your ears. The view of him blushing and laughing under the stars becoming your favourite in that instant as everything else around you blurred and your sole focus was on him and only him.

“Let’s take you and Jakey to the ferris wheel then.” He joked before walking towards the said ride, fingers still laced with yours as he pulled your shy figure gently to follow him throughout the crowd.

And suddenly with a mere blink you were stuck in the middle of moving bodies, one hand unbearably cold while the other held onto a teddy, confusion laced your expression as the lights of the ferris wheel glowed ahead of you, why were you here in the first place?

Just like that, Jaeyun disappeared from a precious memory that belonged to you.

Your surroundings in front of the ferris wheel darkened, a small circle of light engulfing you before your dissociated out from the memory, you had your eyes closed shut, not daring to open them when all you could hear was the murmurs of the doctor and the nurse confirming the removal in the first memory.

All you could detect was the consistent sinking and pain aching in your heart, the dizziness in your head as you altered your memories and forcefully removed the only person who you ever truly loved in your life, the agony from the thought so great that it allowed new streaks of tears to decorate your skin.

And as you let out another shaky breath, you were pushed into another memory.

The harsh breeze of the wind grazed jaeyun’s skin while his teeth chattered slightly at the icy stabs along his arms, he quickly moved from the sidewalk to the empty road that accompanied the ray of sunlight courtesy to the shorter buildings next to it.

His shoulders relaxed at the warmth that travelled his system, his fingers didn’t feel like they were about to fall off anymore the longer he kept them pushed into his pockets under the sun, he relished in the vast difference between the cold breeze and the warm sunlight, a weird sense of soothe scurrying into his mind.

The comparison was awfully familiar, yet he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it reminded him of.

Nonetheless he continued walking, making the final turn that allowed the sight of his house to enter his line of vision, his insides buzzed with worry and excitement at seeing you again, your appearance always brought him solace especially when he walked into the view of you playing with Layla happily in the living room.

Yet whenever he remembered the position both of you were stuck in regarding your importance in his life, his mind got jumbled with negativity and worry again.

But he was determined that tonight was going to make a difference.

Especially with the apology he had spent days memorising, his finger brushed against the small box in his pocket that brought an unexpected but welcomed wave of positivity for him, it was the first time that he felt so confident in himself with something that involved both of you.

The slight graze of the velvet against his skin reminded him of the way your skin felt against his, the sunlight that glowed atop his honey skin beautifully reminded him of the warmth your love provided for him, oh how he adored you.

And there was jaeyun, finally walking towards his door with a pep in his step, his chest feeling ridiculously lighter while the blood rushed to his face at the thought of you in front of his eyes.

His shaky fingers wrapped around the handle before pushing the large piece of wood, layla instantly greeting him at the door with a welcoming woof of her own, making him smile widely.

“Hello my princess,” he spoke with a soft voice, kneeling down to pet her after closing the door behind him, all worrisome thoughts disappearing from his brain the second her soft fur nuzzled against his palms, he chuckled at all of her licks against his cheeks, turning his head as he giggled and unknowingly seeing your missing shoes on the floor.

Confusion wrapped around his head as a weird, unnerving emotion settled into his stomach, he quickly looked around the living room for any sight of you only to be left further confused since you hadn’t told him about leaving the house today.

“Is she not home?” He questioned layla, his glossy eyes returning to the puppy who visibly lost all of her enthusiasm, quieting down and only licking at his palm in hopes of bringing some sort of comfort to her owner the longer he desperately searched for any sign of you.

“It’s alright,” he walked towards the living room, a sudden wave of dizziness crawling its way to his conscious, he involuntarily closed his eyes at the unexpected pain while his feet quickly led him towards the couch with a worried layla trailing behind him, “she’ll come back.” He whispered, comforting himself while his hands reached to hold onto his head.

And before he could realise, he laid onto the soft fabric of his couch as a wave of sleep took over him while his consciousness drifted. Unbeknownst to him, that would’ve been the last time he would remember you.

「 i don’t wanna tip toe but i don’t wanna hide. 」

The doctor’s hands paced around his instruments panically, your soft sniffles ringing in both his and the nurse’s ears as their heart broke for the nth time that day at the sight of the memory on the screen of their computer, the memory that held an immense amount of pain as the only thing you could focus on in that moment was the view of jaeyun sitting down next to a random girl, his arm wrapped around her shoulders while she turned her head to the side to quickly peck his jaw.

“Is that not.. jake?” Your friend asked from besides you, her eyes widening at the sight of the guy who captured your heart huddled next to an unknown girl by a cafe’s window, the view inevitably catching your gaze too as your brain almost shut down at that moment.

“It is.” You whispered in confirmation, the cobbled stone beneath your feet glued you atop of it while your world slowed down, just like your first encounter— you felt everything around you slowly dissolve till your sole focus was on jaeyun with a random woman.

You friend thankfully picked up your irregular breathing, and she was sure if she had listened close enough she would’ve also been able to hear the sound of your heart shattering into countless pieces while your face was an open window to your emotions.

The feeling of your stomach sinking completely brought you back into reality, the situation was laughable really, just a few weeks ago he seemed too shy to even hold your hand yet here he was now with his arm around another woman.

He might’ve not been able to hold eye contact with you just a few weeks ago, but right now he was able to laugh at the top of his lungs at what looked like a joke the woman said.

“Let’s go.” Your friend sternly announced, holding your hand the second she noticed your eyes swelling up with tears and quickly pulled you to walk into a different alleyway while jaeyun slowly disappeared in the background, leaving the random woman to sit alone in your memory before you quickly tumbled into another one.

Your vision began to slowly clear, another memory opening up ahead of you as you felt yourself getting lost in your emotions regarding this whole procedure.

The aroma of the coffee was pungent in the living room, wafting through the air accompanied by the sweet scent of cinnamon, Layla’s sweet coos and quiet noises of approval and support kept you company and sane after witnessing the man your heart thrummed for wrapped up in the arms of another woman.

Due to the unending conflict and doubts eating away at your mind, resulting in a very upset you and a worried Layla to walk around the house to distract yourself, and the perfect distraction did you find when your feet dragged you into the kitchen.

“I guess it’s just me and you.” Expressing yourself to Layla had always been something that came very easily to you, she was your closest friend at the moment after all. Always by your side to comfort you whether it was by cuddling you with your tears landing like rain drops on her soft fur till you fell asleep or by urging you to play with her and get your mind off her dad.

And right as you were about to move the few pastries from the tray onto the plate on the counter, you and Layla’s ears picked up the familiar and dreadful sound of the door being opened, announcing Jake’s arrival with the loud creak of the wood once he pushed it forward.

As expected, the air that carried the dizzying scent of your pastry was suddenly filled with tension. As if each golden particle of the sweets that travelled through the air while carrying your love transformed into a harsh droplet of ice, the atmosphere further thickening uncomfortably when the boy walked inside of the kitchen to the sight of you in front of the counter with your puppy nuzzling to your leg.

“That smells amazing..” he muttered, feeling shy and small when faced with your stiff back, and he knew he deserved the treatment that you had for him, he knew that you had seen him with someone else. Yet he didn’t have the heart to even think about bringing up that conversation, deciding by his own that stuffing the confrontation into a small box and pushing it far away to a corner in his mind was for the best now.

“Thank you.” Your response was curt, almost monotone with the way you tried your best to not have whatever conversation between you two last longer, his presence alone was suffocating enough for you, you didn’t have the heart to face him.

And jaeyun of course noticed all of this, he noticed the way your back was still faced towards him. A clear and painfully obvious contrast from the way you used to greet him with a loving hug and sometimes even a sweet, shy kiss to his cheek if you were really in the mood for it. The memories of those adoring welcomes will always eat away at his conscience, a constant reminder of what he lost.

But was jaeyun going to ask you to talk with him so both of you could finally address the invisible tornado of unspoken emotions in the room? Of course no.

“I was wondering if you…” he trailed off, voice quiet and almost hesitant in approaching you, and his doubts began to gnaw at his heart when your shoulders tensed further, his anxiety made his tone even more jittery when he continued “want to spend some time with me..?” The final syllable was a mere whisper.

Jaeyun felt the distance between you both panicking, he’s never felt you so far away and unreachable for him even though he knew the reason but his fear of rejection and possible failure was overpowering his logical idea of actually hearing your side and confessing his own thoughts, deciding alone for both of you that the best approach to this situation was not acknowledging it in the first place.

“It snowed yesterday, you know.” He pushed his coldly sweaty hands into the pocket of his sweatpants, he could unwillingly hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, his frame was apprehensive as he kept switching his weight from one foot to another while awaiting for your answer, fearful from you declining his offer before he even finished off, “so.. wanna make snow angels?”

He let himself loose, letting go from all of his previous uncertainty and revealing a sweet smile when you finally turned around to face him, a ghost of a grin on your features that never failed to set his chest on fire and make his mind reel, a simple “okay.” had jaeyun over the moon.

Even if Jaeyun was undeserving of your acceptance to his offer, even if this whole action will have a returning moment that will bite you both deeply but in that specific second the need to be wrapped in each other’s warmth surpassed any other feeling you both could have thought of.

And after minutes of being avoidant, hours of steering away from the unavowed storm of words that needed to be exchanged between your two souls to hopefully ignite some sort of hope for your love, after a day full of your eternal bliss in ignorance where you two played into the parts of loving partners that you had formed in your head that was far, way too far from your reality.

You found yourself tangled beneath the satin sheets, clad in your love’s shirt while he laid on his side to face you, every element surrounding you in this current atmosphere was a very clear display of love, of intimacy and devotion that circled the two of you.

With every intrusive thought of just how many times he’s been in this exact position with another woman that you pushed into the back of your head, your grip on his fingers tightened, it was almost driving you insane. The uncertainty and insecurity in your placement in his life was so evident for jaeyun in your actions, and it made his heart ache.

Further proving that he’s not the one for you, because of his undying need to comfort you and whisper his love for you in your ears to wash away all the bad voices in your head that were pushing you to believe that you were the complete opposite of what he saw.

Someone who deserved the utmost love the entire universe could be able to forge and give.

And out of nowhere, the forbidden three words craved their way onto his tongue, jaeyun’s heart leaped into his throat with the suddenly controlling urge to declare his love for you, his love that bursted inside of every vein of his and made his heart thunder between his ribs.

“I..” he unconsciously started, his tone a mere whisper that made your eyes widen, your fingers froze around him making him realise his own words, breath knocked out from his lungs at his own voice that was wavering. So full of emotion, carrying each and every ounce of combined fear and love that he held for you, there was no going back now, he thought.

“I lov—“ and his words were lost in the air, jaeyun was abruptly pulled away once again, vanishing from the other side of the bed and leaving no trace behind him, you sat up in shock at his unexpected disappearance, your chest rising and falling rapidly when he evanesced wholly.

The confusion only settled in a few moments later, why were you sitting on bed and searching for someone? And what was with the sinking and dreadful feeling in your stomach?

Before you could dwell in your turmoil further, a different scene of your memories started to play ahead, it was the day after.

「 and no matter how easy things could be if i did. 」

The scent of the blooming flowers of spring around the cafe distracted you from your friend’s disappointed gaze, her movements with the spoon that mixed the coffee with the cream halted before she cleared her throat, successfully garnering your attention and allowing you to see her dissatisfaction with your situation in only her eyes.

“How muc—“ “listen.” You cut her off, aware of the way that she was about to give you advice for the umpteenth time, to convince and coax you to leave, you felt used to it at this point. Her meaningful words failed to penetrate the wall you had built around yourself regarding anything that was related to jaeyun.

Her hope diminished further when she saw your tired eyes still overflowing with love, the neglect and exhaustion evident in your features, the lack of attention and reciprocation of love from jaeyun was crystal clear to your friend, she absolutely hated seeing you like this.

But she knew that Jaeyun had you wrapped around his finger, your heart drummed for him in a symphony created for only him. She knew that if your love was an ocean then you had drowned a long time ago.

The similarities between you two was almost frustrating for her, as if you both were created from the same soul blown into two different bodies, the love you held for each other heavy, intense and impactful yet you both cowered when faced with the mere possibilities of confession and rejection, far too afraid to lose one another and unaware of the fact that you both were slipping from between the other’s fingers.

“I know.” You whispered, voice barely audible beneath the chatter of everyone around you in the cafe, your heavy lidded eyes stayed on the cheesecake your friend convinced you to order as you felt no appetite, your stomach finding more comfort with the feeling of ache and longing than anything else.

“But I can’t do anything.” Your words broke towards the end, lowering your head in desperate attempt to hide away your glossy eyes from your friend that felt her heart shatter at your frail and weak frame, “I can’t force myself to not love him.” And before you broke down further, your friend’s arms wrapped around you and pulled you into her comfort.

And the feeling of her love and whispers calming you down and engulfing you settled a short moment of peace into your chest before your sight shifted into another memory.

The reminder of why you were here in the first place rang in your head when you finally entered the most dreaded one.

You didn’t want all of your happy memories to fill your being with sorrow, you didn’t want to grieve over a person who you saw everyday, he lived his life before your very own eyes, his every breath that called out to another girl, confessed his love to another woman whom you wished and hoped would become you one day matched with your every breath that called out to him.

Every day and every night your lips refused to not hold hope for his response, till the syllables of his own name tasted foreign on your tongue. they tasted bitter to you, not the familiar sweetness you felt when you had called out to him in the first few months of his delightful presence in your life.

The lightness you felt in you had turned into the constriction of your chest on you, the heavy weight atop your ribs felt as if they were pushing against your heart, punishing it for being so reckless and careless to fall in love with the only man you weren’t meant to be with.

Now each beat of your heart that you were convinced thundered for him, felt like hell breaking loose in between your veins, the burst of ecstasy and excitement had all dulled down to aches of anguish and despair.

And before you knew it, the rush of joy that ascended throughout your body had transformed to absolute misery.

Here you were again, in another painful memory. The mattress sank softly at your weight when you gathered the courage to face your love and your fear, though you weren’t quite sure when those two interlinked.

You knew love was never supposed to be fearful, the unblemished love your heart had held for the boy who had his back turned towards you on the bed was not supposed to frighten your mind with dread of the outcome of tonight.

Jaeyun was on the other side of the bed, huddled beneath the blanket as if using the fabric to protect himself from his surroundings, hiding away from the reality and the truth that awaited him with impatience, “jake..” you whispered, voice low as you tested the waters and longed for any sort of reaction from him.

Yet he remained stoic atop the sheets.

From your perspective, jaeyun appeared so close yet so far away and out of your reach, as the days passed by he pulled further from your grasp, backing away from the same hold that once brought comfort to his distraught conscience, as if the graze of your fingertips burned him.

And before you were able to realise it jaeyun was too far away, standing a large distance far from the circle that contained your warmth, where you stayed. Both of your beings were suddenly standing in a parallel line with no signs of interlacing in a messy circle once again.

You weren’t exactly sure when both of your hearts had gotten intertwined so awfully to one another, a tangled web forming between your ribs. Yet it seemed that whatever force connected the two appeared defenceless and weak when faced against the same force that was rapidly pushing your bodies and minds away from each other.

It appeared like the love that poured in every web and vein wasn’t enough to pull your soul against his own.

“We should talk.. we need to.” you breathed out, tone heavy as if you knew he was going to be quick to shut you out once again, but you weren’t sure if you were going to walk away for a safe amount of time before returning to him again this time.

Just how many times have you lived through this exact scenario? And how many times were you willing to do so?

“There’s nothing to talk about.” he replied through gritted teeth, closing his eyes once he felt the familiar burn around his iris, and there it was. the same answer you had memorised yet so desperately tried to forget, it left a bittersweet feeling to your moment, you were expecting it and the melancholy of hearing it again settled into your emotions.

Instinctively, you turned your head towards him. Your eyes tracing every tense muscle beneath his shirt, the rigidness of his shoulders as he appeared uncomfortable in his own room and god was the thought a punch to your gut when the possibility of your presence making him uneasy crawled its way into your brain.

And the guilt returned to your system immediately, “i’m sorry.” you spoke, words dragged from your strained and tightened throat as you desperately wanted to sprint into the bathroom before a sob fell from your lips. You felt pathetic, really. His coldness and curt replies never affected you as much as this one, maybe it was because you knew this was going to be your last attempt.

With your eyes unfocused on your surroundings, your feet pushed the door of the bathroom behind you before you leaned onto the wall for strength. And unbeknownst to you, jaeyun finally let out a shaky breath fall from between his bruised and bitten lips, allowing all the tears to spill past his skin, the same skin you so lovingly kissed just a few months ago, and now the mere thought of your lips against him was shredding his own emotions apart.

Jaeyun knew that with every harsh word he spoke, he was also single-handedly ripping apart every web between your hearts.

The pale blue moonlight illuminated the room, landing directly on the empty spot in the middle of the bed, as if asking for one of your tense bodies to move towards one another, yet both of you remained with your backs against eachother. Jaeyun was slowly counting the seconds, he knew the exact amount of minutes it took you to fall asleep by now as he had repeated the same routine every night, except this time your breathing was taking longer to deepen than it was supposed to.

That was until he heard a quiet sniffle ring in his ears.

He froze atop the cold sheets, the sound echoing in his mind as if it was tormenting him, the blame and guilt instantly rooting themselves deep in his stomach and extending their branches far in his body, planting themselves fully in his lungs till the point he couldn’t breathe, his breaths turning shallow the more sniffles and quiet cries of heartbreak reached his ears.

The sweat around his palms turned icy, his own body betraying him as he remained paralysed beneath the blanket, his heart screamed at him to go, to move for good for once, fingers itching to turn around and wrap your shaky figure in his hold, to protect you from the demons that were tormenting you both endlessly, yet he couldn’t move.

The louder his heart drummed in his chest to move, the sterner his mind reminded him of how much he deserved this, after all those months of neglect who did he think he was to suddenly switch and turn back towards you? After all those steps he took away from you, how dare he even think of walking back on the same footsteps?

And so he stayed. His body stoic in fear of moving an inch.

He breathed out his first deep breath when he realised that you stopped, when you finally fell asleep and he was able to move and breathe again. Jaeyun wasted no time in getting up from his side of the bed, his feet felt cold against the floor, each step he took towards your side felt heavy on his heart, countless pangs of guilt arrowing themselves directly across his chest at the sight of your sleeping frame hugging the blanket close to you.

The closer he walked towards you, the more he felt the torturous sting in his eyes, he gulped the moment his rigid frame made contact with your blanket, sitting down right next to your small frame. And as he took in the features of your face that he so dearly loved he felt his soul hurting further.

He noticed all the glimmering streaks of tears that aligned your skin, your wet eyelashes that carried and held onto smaller droplets of your pain, the soft redness tainting the tip of your nose matching your cheeks, the longer he stared at you the worse his hands ached to hold you against him.

The comfort of your aura around him had stayed the same, your mere existence around him felt tenderly welcoming to him. The presence that felt like the manifestation of a hug from the whole universe, the warmth that was carefully picked from every star in the galaxy was all provided to him by the heavens in the form of you.

Yet his presence had changed. It had matched yours in the beginning, the presence that was a combination of all galactic bodies, the mere light of his aura challenged the light of the sun and all the stars combined, a glow so bright that rivalled the brilliance of every heavenly titan, he was otherworldly. he was your sunshine.

And now the warmth of the sun had dulled, dissolved into the shell of what he used to be, you thought that maybe each light had its own darkness since even the moon had its own dark side that it was ashamed of turning to show.

His fingertips landed against your soft skin, the disappearance of the coldness from his body the moment it made contact with yours made him melt in front of your sleeping form, and he allowed himself for once to sob all of his pain out.

“I’m sorry..” he whispered, voice breaking as he attempted to convey his emotions once they intensified by the seconds, his misery streaming down his face, “I’m so sorry..” he repeated, the heaviness in his heart worsening at the sight of his tears dripping down onto your blanket, his pain surrounding you once again.

“I wish—“ he gasped for breath, his insides shattering apart the longer he spent next to your frame, “I wish you hated me, so much.” He finally breathed out, his heart stinging with each word, sight blurring further as more tears fell past his cheeks.

“You don’t deserve me, my love.” Jaeyun smiled sadly at your sleeping form, the thought of you receiving the same kind and brave love that you felt for him brought a short-lived happiness to him, he knew he was incapable of reciprocating the adoration that filled you whole because of him.

Jaeyun was scared the second he realised that you had handed your heart over to his hands, he knew his bravery wouldn’t hold enough power to clench his fingertips around your fragile heart, resulting in the delicate and weak item to slip out of his fingers and shatter like countless pieces of glass on the floor.

How he wished he had the courage to love you the same way you loved him, to adore you the same way you adored him, to run back into your warm circle and keep you hidden and protected in his embrace till the end of times, yet he was incapable. His fears and doubts eating away at all the potentials that existed in your heart.

“But I don’t want you to not love me either.” He cried quietly, the thought of you receiving the same love you deserved from someone else destroyed him completely, the visualisation of you smiling the same way you do with him to another man had his hands springing upwards from your skin to grip onto his hair, paining himself in hopes of the torturous image dissipating from his mind.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated once again, his eyes stinging at the continuous hurt his body had bottled up and just got the courage to spill, Jaeyun knew he wasn’t brave enough to show and confess his love to you the way you had done for him, and that fact tugged further on his heartstrings.

The rational part of him hoped aimlessly for a day to arrive where you would realise your worth, realise that jaeyun was still being eaten alive with his fear and doubts and guilt all at the same time, his love for you was overflowing yet he hid each and every bit of it so well.

He knew you deserved better, his rational part always tormenting him with his unworthiness and pushing him further away from you, yet his heart— god his heart couldn’t possibly handle the simple thought of you being away from him.

It was his weak side that still clutched you against him so tightly, the side that was fully and wholly controlled by his emotions that were feral for you, the part of him that desperately ignored all warnings and reminders of his logical side.

Deep down, you knew you and jaeyun were never meant to be. The difference between you and him was vast, similar to the difference of the sand and the ocean, the land and the sky, the moon and the sun. Both parts completing each other while repelling one another at the same time.

You two were never meant to intertwine in the first place.

And even if Jaeyun was finally ready to push every pearl and grain of sand into the ocean, to make the sky fall atop the land and to alter the moon and the sun’s planes’ into a permanent eclipse, it was way too late.

For by the time he wakes up, he won’t even be able to remember you.

The metal pieces on your temples glowed green, indicating another opening for a memory for you, a few days after your despair with jaeyun, where he finally collected all the dispersed courage from his head and went out of his way to make it up to you, inevitably wrapping you both further into his unhealthy cycle of messing up and redeeming himself.

Disregarding the fact that both of your hearts can only take so much. After so much heartbreak and neglect to the core of your soul that only held passion and love towards him, it was bound to give up on trying one day. But you were still loving him. And jaeyun ignored all the voices in his head when they began to claim that your unreciprocated love can’t last that long. Because Jaeyun believed in you.

And maybe it was blinded belief, blurred with his own hope that continued to bloom in his chest, his hope to fix and repair himself as soon as possible so he can present himself to you wholly, even if his time was running thin, even if he didn’t believe in himself, he still found comfort in the small amount of optimism that maybe he can bring the version of him that you adored in your to life.

You both knew that you fell in love with a side of him that he was too afraid to share, too doubtful to uncover and give himself and his most vulnerable parts to, and he knew that he had imprinted himself onto your mind, tattooed his presence onto your heart and he could say that the same implied to himself, it was only a matter of time.

But Jaeyun didn’t know that the longer he was taking to mend himself, he was breaking you further. Just how much longer were you supposed to wait for him to walk back and finally engulf you in his arms again? How much longer was he expecting you to wait while he cured himself? How much longer were you supposed to wait for his love? Unmindful of the way that you, yourself needed to heal as well.

Yet here you were, hand laced with jaeyun’s as he pulled you towards the dining room in the house, his excited giggles rang throughout the walls before the sound got trapped in your head and repeated continuously, your legs moved you in front of the table where a small chocolate cake was placed with three candles atop the icing.

“I made t—“ he started off before he felt your puppy’s fur graze his leg and cut his words, “me and layla made this for you.” He corrected himself, you were still facing the glowing cake with your oh so gentle gaze that never failed to make jaeyun sigh lovingly besides you, “happy birthday, my love.” He whispered, each word knitted with his undying devotion for you, and you felt it. Which made you love him further.

“Thank you, Jaeyun.” You replied, the room suddenly blurred from around you as your only focus was back to him again, to jaeyun’s charming smile and twinkling eyes when you finally faced him, the soft golden burn from the candles made him glow beautifully for you, with his closeness to your body and his fingers still intertwined with yours, you felt yourself falling in love with him all over again.

And jaeyun felt the same, your grateful grin as all of your features softened when your gaze met his made his heart melt into a puddle in his chest, the familiar electricity buzzed between both of your frames, the small glimmer of hope became a fired storm that lit and roared more when the two of you only seemed to get further lost in each other’s presence.

With jaeyun’s face inches away from yours, his arms reached to wrap around your waist, swiftly lifting and placing you on the wooden table next to the cake, the surprised gasp that fell past your lips made him chuckle, his hands then lowered to rest on your thighs, “make a wish, sweetheart.” He spoke, you could feel each flutter of his eyelashes against your skin as he held you close to him.

His slow breath that brushed against your collarbones when he pressed his forehead against yours, both of you closing your eyes to drown completely in this moment, dedicating your mind, body and heart in the close and comfortable warmth of one another that your souls craved for so deeply and desperately, the need clawing away at your heart and finally settling once your hand moved onto his chest, settling above his ribs. You almost melted against him when you felt the rapid thumping of his heart beneath your fingertips.

He moved his head into the crook of your neck, a sudden drowsiness creeping through him as he felt so safe and shielded with you so close to him, you didn’t feel as far and cold from him like you usually do, and that thought brought so much peace to his mind for the first time in months.

And so you breathed his scent deeply, surrounding yourself further in him as you made a wish where you weren’t asking for too much, just for jaeyun’s love.

“Blow them out.” He lifted himself away from you, his fingers ghosting against your legs while he smiled encouragingly at you, both of your eyes seemed glossier with the light of the candles casting down on them.

“Do it with me.” You requested with your tone fragile and careful. jaeyun’s widened, his eyes turning into crescents as he looked at you tenderly. He nodded making you turn your head towards the candles, the slight warmth provided by the small fire lead shivers to run down your spine before you both leaned down and blew on the candles together.

And right when you turned back to face jaeyun with a grin, you were left alone next to the chocolate cake, the cold air jabbing at your skin while your eyes uncontrollably sought for the sight of anyone, you could’ve sworn you felt warm hands on your thighs, but there was no one else in the room other than you and layla.

Where did this cake come from? And why were you not able to remember who made this cake?

「 i waited for your love. 」

All at once, the machine glitched. Losing its track on the map of your mind when the lights around your temples glowed scarlet, indicating the loss of the connection, the interlink pausing for a brief second when a sob wrecked through your body when you remembered the memory you were about to erase.

The nurse’s rushed movements to carefully pat your cheeks that were dampened with your tears were useless against your gut wrenching cries, a rush of emotions that raged in your chest before they fell through your eyes, like a dam shattering apart as the waterfalls streamed down your face and separated from your chin to land on your lap, gradually dampening the fabric.

“Please keep t-this one.” You whimpered, each word falling apart as your voice quietened slowly, your hands reaching to clasp around the necklace that graced your chest, the small piece of pine almost penetrating your skin with its sharp edges the tighter you held it when you opened your blurry eyes to the sight of the doctor and the nurse gazing at you warily, the sorrow was shared in the room as their sympathy towards you was clear in the windows of their eyes.

The woman’s warm hands gently held onto your shaking shoulder while you begged and sobbed with the machine glitching to please keep this upcoming memory, you felt helpless. More parts of your love, of your heart being ripped away from you were finally catching up to you and god was the pain absolutely unbearable.

Was this the punishment one had to pay for the innocent act of falling in love with sim jaeyun?

Words and voices became blurred and intangible from around you, the apologies from the nurse and the doctor never fully processing in your mind as the sorrowful memory had started to play ahead of your eyes with no help from the machine.

Your last whispers were to keep this memory, to leave the memory so you can hold onto the final and most precious piece of sim jaeyun that you got to see and experience first hand, the moment where your adoration and devotion towards the boy was solidified, before the pieces returned to glow in thier emerald hue and the device relinked.

Your head ached with the continuous tears flowing down your face when the memory of you and jaeyun sitting next to each other on the couch unfolded, his fingertips ghosted on your skin, dancing around and drawing shapes and words only he knew the meaning behind while he held you close to him, the inexplicable need and desire to hold you near took a hold of him, and you understood it.

You and jaeyun understood one another beyond the boundaries others deemed possible, you understood his soul so well, his soul that was crafted from a language so intricate and delicate and you were fluent in it. And when faced with the opposite situation of him knowing your soul, he flowed in every crack and crevice of your being easily.

his presence had seeped its way throughout all of your walls that you spent day and night building, growing rapidly all over your walls like vines before breaking them all one by one, till he rooted himself in a great spot, deep in your heart.

If possible, he knew your soul better than he knew his own. But the disagreement of your minds overpowered the link between your hearts and unraveled your tangled souls from one another.

And maybe your mastery in his language was the dawn for the demise of your sweet, innocent love. Because you hated that you could tell how fidgety and anxious jaeyun was around you in this current moment.

“Is something wrong?” You finally had the bravery to voice out, worry worsening when you felt his movements freeze. He cleared his throat before sighing, pulling himself slightly away from you to stare into your eyes.

You felt time slowing around you when you saw his glossy gaze, sim Jaeyun looked breathtaking with the amount of emotions that swirled in his eyes, an amount you couldn’t even begin to fathom or comprehend, you felt yourself gradually losing yourself the longer both of you drowned on the other’s presence, the atmosphere then carried a great sense of doom that both of you decided to ignore.

Too scared to face the results of your avoidance.

“I have a gift for you.” Jaeyun breathed out, the weight that he dragged on his shoulders became heavier when he continued his typical routine of ignorance, of running away from the problem in every possible direction even if they led him to the most tragic path.

Nodding to encourage him, you pursed your lips in anticipation, excitement sparking slowly when you finally pushed away every anxious thought of what could be possibly bothering jaeyun, his hands reached towards his pocket where he pulled a box, your eyes widening when— “I’m not proposing!” He quickly blurted out once he caught your shocked expression, “it’s just— a special gift.” He blushed making you tilt your head in confusion, unknowingly deepening the blush on his face.

“Here.” He handed you the white velvety box, your fingers brushed against the fabric one final time before opening the lid and god you’ve never felt so many conflicted emotions all at once.

The intense vehemence and hurricane of feelings swirling around your heart and chest uncoordinatedly lead the device unable to keep up with the contrast between your happiness in the memory and the sheer ache that you were facing in the current time.

Like the tides of an ocean, your regret washed down on you. Intensifying as if the waves were battling with a storm, escalating the worse the strikes of the thunder became with the time. How were you supposed to forget about him?

“Why are you crying?” His voice was weak, lips quivering in panic of you repelling his gift, hating the small pine cone necklace that adorned the box in your hands, “what?” You asked, confusion laced in your voice, you were over the moon why would you be crying?

You fingertips left the soft pine cone pendant to touch your face, flinching when feeling the small tear drop on the pad of your finger, you never cried in this memory.

“Please calm her down, her emotions are disrupting the memory.” You heard the muffled voice of the doctor followed by the panicked and comforting whispers of the nurse in your ear, whispered promises of living in peace and finding happiness barely reached your mind when you were wiping away your happiness yourself right now.

“Let me help you put it on.” Jaeyun proposed, smiling softly when you nodded and turned around after handing him the necklace, Jaeyun chanted words of reassurance in his head in hopes of calming his shaking fingers that burned when they brushed against your skin, clasping the necklace for the first and final time around your chest, he felt happiness and pride blooming in his heart at the satisfaction of having a piece of himself around you at all times.

“Turn around so I can see you, pretty.” He leaned in and whispered into your ear, his smile widening when you chuckled at his words and turned around.

But why was there no one behind when you turned?

Gasping through your tears with the pieces glowing crimson around your temples, you searched through the blurry figures of white coats and stethoscopes for a different one, though unknown to you who exactly you were searching for, your eyes still raced through every corner of the room.

“Please calm down, miss.” The nurse reassured, pushing the device back onto your temples when you still weakly looked around, too exhausted to respond or fight for your belief that someone is supposed to be here for you, “we’re one final memory away.” You heard the doctor talk before breathing a shaky breath in and taking your final trip to your memory lane.

“I’ll return before night, love.” Jaeyun shouted from the door, hoping that you weren’t able to hear his wavering voice when he left you on the only day you asked for him to stay, but after all of your attempts and requests to get him to stay were unsuccessful, you stayed in the room with your puppy as you waited for her father.

And what was supposed to be two hours became three, what became three turned into the evening, and here you were with your back leaning against the door Jaeyun walked out from when it’s past midnight, Layla’s figure quickly found your own crouched one, arms wrapped around your knees to allow the sleeves of your shirt to catch your tears when the thunder struck for the nth time that night, the night that Jaeyun didn’t return.

Your chest felt empty, as if your heart had been ripped and now the cold air passing through the void of where you used to hold a blinding love made goosebumps align like constellations along your skin, you felt hollow.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this, baby.” You cried to layla who’s ears only lowered, if it wasn’t for the poor lighting in the hallway you would’ve been able to also see her own glossy and hurt filled eyes at the sight of you, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t make him love me.” You turned your head from her silhouette. Shame, humiliation and heartache overflowing you entirely as you sobbed behind the same door jaeyun was leaning against.

He stood there with his frame freezing from the cold, another night of him not being able to tell the difference between the rain droplets falling from his hair and his own salty tears as he allowed the guilt to eat him up from the inside out, not having the heart to possibly open the door and greet the view of a heartbroken you.

He had seen the sight of your tired eyes too many times, and knowing that he himself was the root of the pain made the heartache devour him whole, so he slid down onto the wet floor beneath him with his back towards the door, chuckling tearfully at his own patheticness.

If only he had the bravery to free fall into the sweet and accepting love that bloomed between the two of you like you had, maybe he would’ve been on the other side of the door to engulf you in his arms and console you.

But who was he kidding, he’s the same guy that couldn’t handle the responsibility of your pure heart and distracted himself with other women, surrounding himself with different fragrances and lipstick prints all when the lady of his heart was always within arm’s reach.

He wished he had moulded himself back into the version of him that you met, the loving and easygoing Jake that gazed at you with stars in his eyes, but the damage had already been done. There was no turning back now.

Especially not when you finally opened your eyes fully to the blinding light in the room, the soft blue light being sighted in your peripheral vision, indicating the completion and the success of the operation.

Elation sparked in your body, gradually burning into a small fire when you couldn’t remember anything.

“How are you feeling, miss?” The nurse asked, a hopeful smile gracing her features while she gazed at a confused you taking in your surroundings as if it was your first time, “weirdly.. light?” The doctor chuckled at your words, “the operation was a success.” He spoke before grinning pridefully at his triumph.

“You did amazing, miss.” The nurse praised as she helped you to stand on your own feet with no heavy weight on your shoulders for the first time in months, discarding the metal pieces before shaking your hands, words of gratitude and wishes for a healthy and happy life were exchanged before you finally walked out of the door belonging to the office, taking your first strives with no burden or guilt surrounding you as if you were floating.

Oblivious of the knowledge that Jaeyun woke up with a headache on the other side of the city, the back of his head pounding with him barely able to register Layla’s worried coos, unable to fully open his eyes and lifting his hand to rub the sleep away before— wait was he crying?

The young boy stared at his hand that shined with his tears in confusion, why was he crying? He tried to remember if he had seen a nightmare, a dream, anything— only to reach no answer.

“Hey pretty, don’t worry about me it was probably a dream.” He decided on comforting his puppy that only cooed sadly, his hand reaching forward to pet her fur while the other reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone when it brushed against a foreign object.

Jaeyun’s eyebrows furrowed when he pulled out a small box from his pocket, the item resembling a weirdly intimate small box, he opened it to reveal a beautiful ring— a promise ring. embroidered with a bunch of small diamonds around the silver lining, his confusion deepening when he had absolutely no clue of who this ring could possibly belong to.

He searched the inside for any sort of engraving to no avail, “who was this for..?” He whispered to layla who deflated further into the floor, sadness overflowing from her eyes at the defeat and loss of her friend.

And at the end, you and jaeyun’s tragic love story became encapsulated into a small forgotten star in the vast, wide and endless sky.

Already opening new opportunities and doors for different stories to be woven into your lives, you finally met up with the guy your friend had set you up with, and you knew the decision of trusting her taste was successful when a tall, doe eyed guy showed up to your table.

“Hello, my name is heeseung.” He smiled sweetly, his warm aura welcoming and pulling you in completely, unknown to you that this was just the beginning of your story with the love of your life, both of you getting lost in tangled conversations filled with questions and your interests, unaware of the different couple passing outside of the window.

“Wait so jungwon scored right?” Jake laughed, engrossed in the story of how his best friend almost ended up in the hospital, “after making riki trip, yes.” The girl besides him chuckled when Jake threw his head back in laughter, without noticing how his puppy stood outside of a cafe window, layla was no longer following him and instead she seemed to gaze intensely into the window.

Her tail swishing in excitement and joy when she spotted your figure sitting on one of the chairs, accompanied by a man that wasn’t afraid to wrap his arm around your shoulder while you laughed at his words.

Both you and Jake blind to the sight of the conflicted puppy who’s head only swished on both of your distant figures with two different people around you now before walking away with a heavy heart in jaeyun’s direction.

Maybe you and Jaeyun were never meant to successfully intertwine.

— fin

a,note. this feels so weird to share now because this is my first ever heavy angst filled work that’s also very emotionally connected to me in a way, first of all thank you ariana for releasing album of the year and inspiring me to write this, if you haven’t listened to eternal sunshine please do as soon as possible.

second i’d like to share how somewhat uncomfortable it is for me to share this as i had to take a lot of breaks throughout writing it (i’m an emotional b word pls) and also there were alot of moments that were inspired by my closest friendships / emotional experiences so i really feel like im sharing some sort of part of myself with this as well, but either way i hope u enjoyed reading this !! i love u layla and i’m sorry :(

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thestrangesterthings · 3 years ago

Text

Now You Know

TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You had a study date planned with your best friend Peter Parker but upon arriving to house you find he’s not there waiting like he says he would be.

A/N: It’s been a while. I’m rusty as heck but my GOD this man really lives rent free in my head again. Is it 2012 again or something? Anyways please leave feedback and my inbox is always open for prompts/fic ideas. I didn’t proof read properly because this took me a few days to finish and be actually happy with!

1.6k words. fluffy as heeeeck, friends to lovers. I also don’t know who owns this gif I’m so sorry!

Being Spider-Man meant that Peter didn’t get much of a chance at being what some would call a “normal kid”. Here he was, swinging across New York on the daily, stopping bad guys and getting into fights with God knows who, and what.

Contrary to this though, he was getting good at separating his personal life from his friendly-neighbourhood-spiderman-ing, as much as it was extremely frustrating at times. Take today for example: you and him had decided to get together at his house for a study date. A date.

Well, maybe to you it wasn’t a date but to Peter, well, it was one step closer to hopefully, maybe one day, being more than just friends. Even when out on patrol his mind can’t help but wander to the thoughts of you. It marvelled him how distracting you were to him even when he wasn’t around you, but he was happy to let your face, laughter, every inch of you, to fill his thoughts when you weren’t around.

Now, instead of being at his house waiting for you for the aforementioned study date, he was chasing some thugs across town and he was running a little late. Luckily, he had found time to text you, so there would be no awkward run ins and he would have time to take off the suit and be ready for you to arrive and you could have some alone time. Completely, agonisingly platonic, alone time.

Unbeknownst to him, you’re already there, being lead to his bedroom by Aunt May, neither of you having checked your phones for any messages from Peter. You smile thankfully to Aunt May, as you open up the door to head inside. This place was like your second home, and you frequented it so often, that Aunt May was fine with the idea of you waiting in there before Peter returned.

”Thanks Aunt May, I’ll just wait for him here. No, I don’t need a drink or anything, but thanks anyway.”

Closing the door behind you, you took a look around Peter’s bedroom; at the clothes on the floor, his computer desk with odds and ends strewn across it. Throwing your backpack onto the ground by Peter’s bed, you sit down, leaning back against the cool wall, once bright with green paint from Peter’s childhood, now discoloured with age. It was adorned with photographs that Peter had taken and a couple of random posters. You admired the photographs, taking each image in one by one, as if you hadn’t looked at them a hundred times already.

As you contemplated how Earth Peter had managed to take such a stunning picture of the New York skyline from such a height, a loud bang made you jump and your head snapped to look at what was happening.

What you didn’t expect was to see was Peter Parker, dressed fully in his Spider-Man suit, without his mask, throwing his backpack onto his bedroom floor and crawling through his bedroom window. He had serious hat - mask? - hair, and his usually very tousled mane was sticking to his head, with beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

You were too stunned to speak.

You didn’t even say a word when he used his web to pull a t-shirt from his closet. It was only when he started to pull his suit off, and you could see a glimpse of his toned chest that you let out a loud cough, spluttering slightly as you turned to face the wall, not daring to make eye contact.

Upon seeing you, Peter yelped and toppled down to the ground, his limbs flailing as he landed with a thud, hitting his desk on the way down. “Y/N!” His mind went completely blank as he lay there, unsure of what to say, how he could possibly get himself out of this one.

“Oh my God, Peter, hey!” You covered your face with your hands, feeling mortified, “Your Aunt May let me in.” You tried so hard to sound casual, but your words came out an octave higher than normal.

Peter decided it was best if he just stayed on the ground a little longer, his own hands covering his face. “Oh yeah? Cool. That’s cool. Er, this isn’t what it looks like, I swear!”

His hands moved from his face to rest on his stomach as he turned to look as you, only met with a raised eyebrow; but at least you were actually looking at each other now. He sat himself up, arms resting on his legs, chest heaving as he started to catch his breath. “Okay…it’s kind of what it looks like, but just give me a chance to explain.”

“Kind of?” You let out a low laugh, feeling the embarrassment dissipate. “I don’t think ‘kind of’ really fits the bill for this one.” You tried to conjure up something smart to say, something sarcastic or witty to try and break some of the tension but all that came out of your mouth was: “My best friend is Spider-Man!”

Peter came barrelling towards you, his gloved hand flying up to cover your mouth. Wide eyed, you tried pull back but his other arm had snaked around your waist holding you close. “Ssh, please, don’t. Don’t talk too loud, okay? Aunt May doesn’t know. Nobody knows except...”

Realisation hit you both as you felt Peter soften, a small smile on his lips. This was the moment he could let it all out and be completely honest without you. So now that he could tell you, he just thought ‘why not?’. “Except for you.”

His voice sounded so soft, so tender and sweet. All of the pressure that he had built up since becoming Spider-Man seemed to disappear and dissolve into nothing. He was about ready to collapse he felt so free. You both stared at each in silence, both unsure what to say next, an air of understanding settling between you.

The hand on your mouth moved to cup your cheek, his thumb gently running across your cheek bone, eyes trained on yours. “You have no idea how much I have wanted to tell you this secret. It was killing me not being able to tell but I had to-I had to keep you safe.”

Your own hand came up to rest on his, the weight of his responsibility becoming oh so apparent. “Hey, it’s okay. I know how. I won’t tell anyone,” You placed your hands on Peter’s chest, his heart beating beneath your touch and you swear you felt him shiver. “You can trust me.”

As he nodded and let your words sink in, he realised how close in proximity you guys were. A thought flashed across his mind and he smirked, causing you to raise an eyebrow at him. “So, now that you know I’m Spider-Man and such a hero, er, does that change anything, you know, between us?” He sounded hopeful and it made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

You would be lying to yourself if you tried to deny the feelings you harboured for this boy. This sweet, funny, agonisingly handsome boy who you couldn’t believe was your friend never mind anything more; it always sounded ridiculous to you that he would feel anything other than friendship. Yet, here he was laying it all out to you, teasing you in a way that made the blood rise to your cheeks like flames against your skin.

“I-Well, what-what would you like it to change to?” You challenged him, not wanting to be the one to lay it all out, still feeling unsteady in yourself and unsure of what he was truly asking. His brown eyes never left yours, the gaze steady and unwavering. You noted the flecks of colour in them, like autumn leaves after the rain.

His eyes flickered to your lips as his right hand moved to your neck, his fingers gently tickling you as he pulled you closer. You closed your eyes as the smell of his body consumed you, a mix of sweat and aftershave but you didn’t mind. As his lips met yours, you felt yourself let go as his other hand reached up to cup your cheeks. The kiss was soft at first, just a few tiny nips as your lips got to know each other better.

“I can’t believe that you’re Spider-Man.” You breathed out, letting your brain run wild with the thoughts of everything that had happened in the last few minutes.

“Shut up.” He groaned, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened and you tried to steady yourself; one hand resting on the bed for support, your other arm clinging to Peter’s suit. You could feel your heart beat racing, sure he could feel it to with those spidey senses. That was a thing right? Your whole body felt ablaze with desire for Peter, your skin hot and your kisses feverish.

As you felt the weight of his body push you back against the bed, you raised an arm to his chest to stop this from going any further, albeit a little reluctantly. “Easy there bug-boy.”

Peter’s eyes were still closed, and he seemed a little dazed from the kiss, his head tilted still, lips still hovering above yours. “Bug Boy huh?” He opened one eye and smirked at you, causing you to roll your eyes and giggle at him.

You sat yourself back up on the bed, crossing your legs in front of you as you watched Peter stand, a giddy expression on his face. “Yeah, bug-boy, this is where that ends, okay? You’ve got some explaining to do and I have so many questions!” Running a hand through your hair you tried to tidy yourself up a little, ready to start interrogating.

“Okay, okay, fine.” Peter grabbed a shirt from his closet, beginning to remove the suit from his body, smirking as he saw the way your eyes followed his every movement. “Anything you want to know, I’ll tell you, okay? No more secrets, I swear.”

#spiderman x reader #peter parker x reader #spider man x reader #andrew garfield spiderman x reader #andrew garfield spider man x reader #andrew garfield peter parker x reader #spiderman x you #spider man x you #peter parker x you #spiderman fluff #spider man fluff #peter parker fluff #tasm #tasm!peter x reader #andrew garfield spiderman #andrew garfield spider man #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #spider man fanfiction

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kittenkuroo · 3 years ago

Text

𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐱

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲-𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝.

𝐜𝐰: 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟓𝐤

It was always an itching urge within Rintarou’s heart. He wanted to find the perfect girl, so kind and innocent, and ruin everything she thought she knew about herself. He wanted to see her shaking and crying because of his fingers, his dick. Rintarou wanted to break down a girl until she was completely pliable and at his mercy.

It was fucked up, he could even admit it. He knew that it was a twisted thought inside his pretty head. But the thought of corrupting someone so perfect made his whole body go tingly.

Rintarou had no luck for the first couple of years he was in college. All of the girls he had the displeasure of meeting were whores and sluts in his mind, all-knowing how to suck dick and roll their bodies on top of his. He was starting to get tired of all of their experience.

Rintarou began to give up on his twisted perversion.

Then he laid his eyes on you.

So cute, huddled in the corner of the frat party, hands gripping at the bottom of your tiny skirt. Your pretty eyes were darting back and forth as people walked by you. Suna gave a small chuckle, hands gripping his red cup in excitement. He could see it in your eyes.

You were finally something he could corrupt.

“You new to these things? I live in this frat house so this is an everyday thing for me,” You jump when you feel the hot breath of a stranger tickle your neck. He had snuck up on you, “What’s your name?”

You nod your head as you stutter out a response, “Y-yeah... I’ve never been to a party before and my friend ditched me,” You lick your lips as you finally lay your eyes on the guy beside you. He was pretty with black hair framing his face, smoky eyeliner lining his lids, and rings adorning his long fingers, “My name is Y/N. You?”

He chuckles, “Suna Rintarou. You can call me Rin,” He leans down closer to your ear, “What a crappy friend you have, leaving a little lamb like you all alone. Wanna hang out together?”

“Yeah,” You feel a smile creeping up on your face, happy someone was at least talking to you, “We can hang out.”

Your newfound friend offers a hand to you and you look at him inquisitively, “Let’s go up to my room so we can get to know each other... Y/N.”

You weren’t sure if this was the best of ideas but it was better than waiting around for your friend to stop making out with random guys. At least with this, you wouldn’t look like a loser, out of place. So, naturally, you took Rintarou’s slender hand and let him lead you up to his room.

His room was standard, with dark red walls with random piles of clothes scattered on the floor and a couple of movie posters lining his walls. His bed was neatly made while his desk was scattered with textbooks and pens. It was just a normal room, for some reason that consoled your worrying heart a bit.

“What do you major in?” You find yourself asking the most common question in college. Rintarou grabs a textbook and hands it to you.

“Psychology.”

Your eyebrows raise in shock, “I wouldn’t take you for a psychology major,” It immediately sounded bad as soon as you heard it. Your head shoots up to look at the amused man as panic sets in, “I-I didn’t mean it like that! I’m so sorry-”

His hands land on your angular shoulders, instantly shutting you up, “It’s okay, baby girl,” The nickname makes you shudder in his hands while a sadistic smile creeps on his face, “But, how will you make it up to me? You kinda offended me when you said that...” His voice was slow and low making a small blush appear on your face.

You swallow, “I’ll do a-anything,” Rintarou bites his lip, “I’m sorry, Rin.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.” You respond.

It wasn’t a surprise that you found yourself laying down on his bed with his fingers buried deep inside your cunt, pressing new spots and making you feel like you never have before. Your shirt was lifted up just above your breasts with your bra pushed up as well. The sight was making Rintarou’s mouth water. Your face was so adorable, flushed, and starting to break out a sweat.

“Stop tensing,” His hands slap at your thigh, causing your hips to jump, “And stop this stupid jumping shit. Stay fucking still.” He grabs your hips roughly, pinning them to the bed, much to your demise. You couldn't meet the thrust of his fingers like that.

You let out a harsh groan when his fingers prod at that certain spot that makes you see stars, “C-can’t, hng, help it... feel so good.” Rintarou had you right where he wanted you. You were starting to pant like a bitch in heat and the words you were mumbling made no sense to his sane ears.

He was starting to get you fucked out and you hadn't even cummed yet. Rintarou continued pushing his long fingers in your gummy walls. The way you were writhing around just because of his fingers almost made him want to laugh.

This was perfect.

“Rin,” You let out a particularly hard moan while your hand slaps down on his shoulder, grip making him wince, “Gonna... gonna cum. Please, please, let me cum.” Your hips were shuddering as he continued his assault on your walls. Eyes rolled up in your skull, hair plastered to your forehead, and your whole body shaking with pleasure. Rintarou had never seen such a pretty sight.

“Cum for me, baby girl.”

Those simple words had you allowing yourself to fully let go of the pent-up feeling in your stomach. All of your hearing went as white-hot pleasure spread through your body. Your muscles hurt from tensing up so much but you couldn’t help but to tense more, milking as much pleasure from this experience as you possibly could.

You look down to see Rin with a satisfied smile gracing his lips. You can’t help but smile at the sight, chest filling with warmth.

The bed sinks down when he crawls on top of you, kissing your forehead and brushing your hair off your face, “Think you can handle the real thing now?”

A panic replaces all of the warm feelings you had before. You were scared. Scared it was going to hurt, that he would be too fast or rough with you. He begins to take off his boxers, stroking his length a couple of times with a lazy grin on his face.

When the tip prods at your sopping hole, your hand shoots down to grab at his wrist, "Rin," He looks at you with an eyebrow quirked, "I've n-never done this before-"

He leans down and kisses your cheek sweetly, "Don't worry, that's perfect," His eyes narrow like you're some kind of prey, "I'll go nice and slow." His strong arms cradle your head, pushing it into his chest so you couldn't see what he was doing.

What you couldn't see, wouldn't hurt you, right?

The painful stretch as his cock slowly gliding in had your legs kicking out, a shriek leaving your lips. The burning feeling was too much. He was ripping you apart, about to pierce your stomach if he didn't stop. Rintarou shushes you, stroking your hair as if he was consoling you. His hips settle against yours and you can let out a sigh of relief now that he doesn't have to slide in anymore.

"Hurts..." You mutter against his chest. Rintarou continues to stroke your hair before looking at you.

"It will feel good soon, baby," He lets go of your head, letting you lay down and face him again, "Let me take the lead."

His pace at first was so agonizingly slow, your head spinning with the pain that you were feeling. You didn't even know your lower half could feel this much burning and stretching. After the seventh or eighth stroke, it was like a veil was lifted up. You began to see stars, body relaxing and tensing all at the same time at the wonderful feeling of him filling you full of his cock.

Rintarou took your blissed face as a sign to finally go faster.

Rintarou began to slam his hips into you causing you to stutter out a couple of dumb-sounding moans. The feeling of him was too much. It was causing your legs to seize up and your body began to ache.

"Too fast!" Your legs try to close but he pries them open and slams them against the bed.

He glares down at you, "Take it," The sounds of his hips slamming against yours made your brain go hazy, "Fucking take it. Shit, so fucking good."

When your eyes go bleary and begin to cross, that's when he chuckles. You looked like the perfect little fuck doll.

"Feels so good, Rin! So, so good," Your breasts jiggle with the movements of his hips, "God, I'm gon' cum again."

You have never felt such bliss before. It opened so many doors you didn't even know were possible. A couple of slams of his hips against yours had you finally releasing once again. It was better than the last, maybe because of how full you were. Your body was tensing and clenching around Rintarou. A warm feeling began to coat your walls. You pry your eyes open to see Rintarou hunched over with a face full of pleasure.

He collapses on top of you after a couple of minutes inside of you.

Your brain felt foggy but your body felt so good. It was the perfect combination in your head. Your eyelids begin to droop with the exhaustion of it all and you let yourself take a short nap.

You were awoken with a harsh shake to your shoulder. You blink a couple of times, trying to adjust to the light.

"Y-yeah," You sit up, pain jolting through your body. Rintarou was standing in front of you with a lit cigarette hanging halfway out of his mouth.

He sighed, looking annoyed at your cluelessness, "I usually never let girls sleep after I fuck them, consider yourself lucky. But," He hands you your shirt and skirt, "I'm gonna need you to leave. Class in the morning, you know."

You furrow your eyebrows at the sudden shift in his tone, "But, I thought-"

He cuts you off with a sinister laugh, "Thought you were special because I called you loving names and went slow?"

You felt your chest begin to cave in on itself. This wasn't happening, was it? He was just playing some sort of cruel joke on you.

"Rin-"

"Fuck," He rolls his eyes, "Don't call me fucking Rin, okay? Call me Rintarou. I just wanted you to feel like you could trust me."

Tears prickle at your eyes as his words begin to register to you, "So this was all... a joke? A prank on me or something?"

He clicks his tongue, taking a puff out of his cigarette and flicking ash in his tray, "Don't take it so personally, sweetheart," He sits on his bed, hand going to caress your knee in mock comfort, "I have this kink. I wanted to corrupt someone."

You shake your head, "I don't understand."

"How could I pass someone like you up? You looked so innocent when I first laid my eyes on you," He smiles at the memory, "You were the perfect person to corrupt. So I did it, and now I need you to leave my house."

It was like your whole world had crumbled in front of you. It was a stupid thought in your head, but you thought maybe he just wanted to take care of you, make you feel better after slipping up and offending him.

You felt so stupid.

Leaving his room was as humiliating as finding out he didn't really care for you. You felt his slimy eyes on you as you redressed, all the way up until you shut the door to his room.

Standing out in the hallway of his frat house you didn't know what to do with yourself. You felt nothing short of crushed and heartbroken.

Rintarou laid against his bedframe, basking in the silence. His cigarette was filling his chest with warmth. He couldn't help but begin to laugh like a crazy man at what he just pulled off.

Corrupting was more thrilling than he thought. He wanted more.

The look on your face had a sinister emotion creeping into his brain. He wanted to do this more.

But for now, he will continue to think back on this night with a victorious outlook.

Rintarou had successfully corrupted someone and crushed their heart.

#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu smut #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu #suna rintarō #suna smut #suna rintarou smut

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bitchassbucky · 4 years ago

Text

Ｍｅ/Ｙｏｕ

📎Word Count: 1.9k

📎Warning/s: smut! MINORS DNI. toxic relationship dynamics <3 facefucking, sloppy blowjob, facial (not the skincare one), spitting in mouth, biting?, name calling, cheating/affair (bucky cheats), mean!bucky ig, toxic & manipulative!reader (she coerces bucky into cheating... so), alcohol mention, very very very brief sam x reader was mentioned

📎A/N: this was supposed to be a quick drabble but the fic practically wrote itself sooooooo @babyboibucky @sarge-barnes-sir @borikenlove this one’s for my hoes 💛✨

📎reblogs & comments are always welcomed!

📎Masterlist || Ask || AFTERDARK

The stage lit up as the band finished with a flourish. A roar of cheers and applause vibrates through the entire room, breaking the sweaty and the smoky atmosphere of the bar.

Patrons milled around with their drinks in hand. Drunk people leaning over walls and stools, waiting for their friends to come find them.

Your black-rimmed eyes scanned the room for a viable option. You slowly gaze upon the sea of bar-goers, picking out the best of the bunch.

The girl in a pleated skirt? Still giggling with her friends.

What about the man who’s been eye-fucking you since you got here? Too desperate.

There’s someone leaning over at the edge of the room, but they’re too tall for your liking.

You finished your drink with a sharp gulp, already walking towards the bar for a refill when someone caught your eye.

He looked like a sore thumb sticking out of the crowd. His hair was cropped short, a bit frazzled. A fair shade of stubble showered his sharp jaw, lining over his pink lips.

A smirk played on your painted lips, signaling the bartender for two drinks.

“Hey Sam,” you practically purred. A handsome man tending the bar leans closer to you, bringing forth a couple of shot glasses.

“It’s on the house,” Sam said, sliding a neat square of napkins over your side before placing the drink.

You tilt your head that way and smiled in lieu of thanking. A clink—half a second later, you put the empty glass facing downwards.

“Who’s the new guy?” A genuine question. The subject of the conversation sits patiently behind you, checking his phone periodically.

“A friend,” Sam carefully approaches your question, “he’s dating another friend of mine.” Sam already knows what your game is and how... unstoppable you are, for the lack of a better word.

“Well, that didn’t stop us before, did it?”

Looking over your shoulder, you meet his gaze, beckoning him to join you and Sam by the bar.

“Hey man, what can I get ‘ya?” Sam asked his friend, laying another napkin on his end.

“Just a beer, thanks.” He’s short with words. His steely eyes darting everywhere but you.

“What’s your name?” Now you’re scooting closer, even playing up a stumble when the man behind you roared a boisterous laughter.

He then looks at you, finally, albeit hesitant, “I’m Bucky—are you okay?”

You let a small giggle out, playing coy, “Yes, Bucky, I’m okay.” You stick your hand out, a couple of silver and tungsten rings adorning your fingers.

“Nice to meet you...” Bucky prompted, his large hand engulfing yours.

“Sam’s...friend.”

“Right,” he said, letting go of your hand after a firm shake, “‘m just waiting for my girlfriend.”

Sam already moved away from your area, serving a group of girls by the far end of the bar.

“He always does that,” you pointed out. A shared tidbit of mutual interest. Bucky was close enough to get a whiff of his musky cologne. A sliver of necklace hiding beneath his black shirt.

“Yeah, that’s how I actually met him.” It was unprovoked, what he said, but you kept the conversation going.

“You were with a group of drunk girls?” Your quip made him look at you with a playfully defeated smirk, his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. An act that made your thighs clench from under you.

“No, no. Well—he thought that I was some girl’s boyfriend and he gave me a free drink to ‘apologize.’”

You bring up your best laugh, flicking your hair off your shoulder. Exposing your jewelry-adorned neck to him. He gazed down to your chest before clearing his throat.

He was nervous, you—hell, anyone—could tell. His hands were stuffed in his pants, he fidgets by shifting his weight back and forth on his left foot.

“Are you okay?” You looked up at him through your lashes, you were already a mere half a-foot away from him.

Bucky ran his hand through his hair impatiently, checking his phone again. Still no texts. “Yeah—yeah, I’m fine. My girlfriend’s just taking too long.”

You shot Sam a look before putting your hand on Bucky’s chest, “I know a place where you could wait. It’s quieter in there, you could call her.” Your tone was hopeful—a mutual acquaintance helping out a friend.

Before he knows it, Bucky’s hand was in yours as you guide him through the crowd and into a dimly lit hallway.

The wall was decorated with posters and stickers; pictures of patrons and banned people too.

“In here.” You opened a door, flicking a light switch before fully opening the way to let Bucky through. “This is a rehearsal room, the walls are lined with foam so any noise is filtered—can’t really go in and out.”

The old couch on the back was surprisingly clean and comfy, Bucky settled there as you rummaged around the mini-fridge for another drink.

“Beer?” That wasn’t really a question as you pass him a cold can, sitting down beside him.

He huffed, deft fingers dancing over the screen as he composed a longer text, “she always does this. It’s fucking annoying.”

Like the good friend you are, you scooted over to him, laying a soft hand over his shoulder for comfort.

“Hey, it’s fine. She’s just probably held up right now,” you cooed, a sweet little thing. You take a sip of a drink as he does so.

You give his broad shoulder a brief squeeze and made a face, “you’re really tense, man.”

Comically, he relaxes, letting out a breathless chuckle that sent your core fluttering. “‘m sorry. It’s just—this is our first night out in a long while.”

You hum inquisitively, propping up an arm on the backrest, “have you guys been together long?”

A beat passes before you backtracked.

“Sorry, I haven’t been in a long relationship...” You trailed off, tucking a piece of stray hair behind your pierced ear. You tentatively took another gulp of your drink, your cheeks heating up.

“No, it’s okay. We’ve been together for like, maybe three years, or so?” Bucky looks at you. God, it’s like he’s trying to read you before curating his answers. “Been a long time too.”

“Anything adventurous happening?” You teased him, Bucky’s visibly more relaxed now.

“No, nothing adventurous.” He confessed - an unknown reaction washes over his face as he says it.

“I may or may not know a thing or two on how to make your relationship more exciting.”

“Really? Is that so?” Bucky’s voice dropped a couple of octaves, sending shivers down your spine. He leans over then, getting closer to your face until his face is merely inches away from you.

“Bucky,” you breathe out. Your hands flat against his chest.

He blinks—once, twice.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry—shit, I’m sorry. I- I shouldn’t be here. I’m gonna go—“ His whole demeanor changed. Bucky stands up, straightening his pants and shirt before looking down at you, still seated on the couch.

He was just three steps away from the door when you slot yourself between him and his way, “where do you think you’re going?”

“Outside. Outside, I’m gonna wait for my girlfriend outside.” He’s rambling, his ears are going red. A thin sheet of sweat glistening over his forehead.

Closing the gap between you and him, you lay a hand against his chest, over his heart. “Do I make you nervous?”

Bucky stammers out a broken ‘no.’

“No? Why’s your heart beating so fast, then?”

You reached up to his nape, pushing him down to your height to kiss him hard. He didn’t push you away yet, his hands are gripping your arms for purchase. His fingers digging in the flesh of your shoulders. It’s sure to be bruised come morning.

“Fuck,” Bucky breathed out as you pull away. His lips shining and swollen, “what did you do?”

“Something thrilling, really.”

Bucky didn’t know how you got on your knees, tugging his black jeans down along with his boxer briefs in a desperate manner.

“God, I knew you were packing.”

His cheeks heat up even more as you palm him, his length hot and heavy against your hand. You lean in and nipped his thigh, your sharp teeth digging into his skin.

Bucky couldn’t help himself but to hiss and slap you across the face, “don’t fucking bite me.”

He expected you to look up at him with tears in your eyes, what he wasn’t expecting is you looking up with mischief and joy glinting in your eyes as you bite him again—harder this time, “God, fuck—you slut!”

Bucky saw red and grabbed you roughly by your jaw, squeezing your mouth open, “you want me so fuckin’ bad, you’re marking me, aren’t you, huh? Such a fucking slut, look at you.”

He squeezes harder, prying your mouth open as he missed your mouth with his spit, “open your mouth—fucking open!”

You obliged, your knees scraping raw as you kneel before Bucky. You feel his spit drip down your chin, the first time he missed. The second one slid down your tongue, prompting him to forcefully tap your cheek close as you swallow.

His angry cock stood dripping with precum; prominent veins making themselves known. You scoot closer, licking his balls up to the crown of his head which earns you a grunt.

“Hurry the fuck up,” Bucky orders. He wastes no time in bunching your hair up in his fist, slapping your swollen lips and cheek with his cock. “This better than your gloss, yeah? Hmm, yeah, ‘course it is.”

Bucky squeezes your mouth again, pushing his thick cock past your lips, your warmth engulfing all of him at once. “No reflex? My god, you’ve been here before, haven’t ‘ya?”

His presumptions were proven wrong when he started to pump in and out of your mouth. You gagged and choked, your throat constricting around his head every time he hits the back. “In and out through the nose, hmm? Yeah, c’mon. You can do it, bitch.”

Once you got past your reflex and relaxing your throat, Bucky took advantage and sped up. His balls slapping your chin when he thrusts in. The neckline of your shirt wet with spit and drool as he continues to fuck your mouth like he owns it.

You hum as you feel Bucky’s cock throb in your mouth.

“Yeah, yeah—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Another set of rough thrusts, Bucky pulls out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for air. He strokes his girth with his hand, with you licking the angry crown of his length. Ropes of cum spurt out, painting a good portion of your face milky white. You managed to swallow it, catching some in your abused mouth.

He stands tall above you, catching his breath as he tucks himself into his pants once more. “The fuck did I just do?”

“Something adventurous.” You smirk, standing up on your own, wiping your face with the inside of your shirt.

Bucky pats down his pocket for his phone, landing his gaze on the couch to look for it. He saunters over, looking for any texts from his girlfriend.

“You know, I’m doubting you even have a girlfriend,” You let out a sharp quip as you smooth your hair down, drinking the rest of your beer.

“Shut the fuck up.” Bucky retorts, stuffing his phone down his back pocket. Before strutting over a desk and scribbling something.

“What? You came on my face and I can’t say shit?”

He tosses you a piece of paper, catching it on your hand. Bucky gives you a reluctant look before turning the doorknob, leaving you alone in the room.

You unfold the paper then, ‘call me when you’re feeling adventurous’ it says, along with his phone number.

#bitchassbucky writes #works: one shots #bucky x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader fluff

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drakenology · 4 years ago

Text

Yeah, My Boyfriend’s In A Band

guitarist!todoroki x fem!reader

summary: something straight outta wattpad! you go to a rock band’s concert and stand front row of the stage. The band’s vocalist /guitarist catches your eye and.. well, the rest is history! this is the story of how you first met.

author’s note: soooo.. how yall been? i kinda said fuck it to the schedule i made. why force myself to make content when I just can’t ya know? I’d much rather upload content when it’s at it’s best. so enjoy! I used some lyrics from some of my favorite rock songs for this, can you guess em? Also the art work above isn’t mine!

warnings: smut (duh.), drug use (weed), size kink, pinch of daddy kink, spitting, degradation

It was a hot Saturday night. You were all dressed up and excited to see your favorite heavy metal band the Diaspora play in your city. You were a huge fan, their posters adorned your bedroom walls. You’ve been a fan since they first came out as a cover band.

The members were all pretty fuckin cute, especially the band’s front man. Todoroki Shoto.

He was so handsome; black and red half and half hair, grey sullen eyes, the sexy scar on the left side of his face only adding to the edginess of his visage. His tattoos coated his left arm in a sleeve, his eyebrow pierced as well as his lower lip. He was fucking hot. Obviously not the kind of guy who would pay any attention to you right?

You threw on the Diaspora t-shirt you bought just weeks before the show and tied it in the back so it could be a little cropped and called your uber, frantically spraying perfume in a panic that you were going to be late to the concert. You ran outside, saying goodnight to your roommate as you rush out the door and jump into the car.

“Hey. I’m Shoto Todoroki and I’m the lead singer and guitarist for the band The Diaspora. Hope to see you guys at the show tonight at 8.” You hear as smoothe and sultry voice play over the radio.

You swoon and text some buddies who were also going to the show in excitement, the rush going straight to your brain in a haze as you blast some of their music in your headphones.

When you arrive to the stadium, you spot your best friend from highschool Nejire Hado. You two actually grew up together and even graduated together. It was like you two were sisters, inseparable since birth. Nejire saw you and waved excitedly, squealing with glee and motioned you to come to her spot in line.

“Y/N!!!! Over here!!” She yelled, causing you to run over and jump up and down with her.

“I can’t believe we’re finally here!” You say.

“Me either! Hey, did you hear? There’s rumor’s going around that their having an after party after the show! We have to go, Y/N please say yes.” Nejire rambled, clapping her hands with an inability to contain her excitement.

You look down at your shoes, unsure at first. What if you aren’t even allowed inside? It could be VIP only.

“Fuck it. Let’s go!” You say, causing Nejire to scream and laugh with joy.

Suddenly, the band’s security comes outside to greet the fans waiting to come inside for the show.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please enter in a single fil-“ the poor guy couldn’t even finish his sentence before hundreds of eager fans rush past him and squeeze into the stadium doors, running as fast as the could to get to their seats.

Luckily for you and Nejire, you had front row tickets. Those days of refreshing the page for them as they sold out every second really paid off. You grab Nejire’s hand and run inside, elbowing and clawing your way through to your spot with your best friend by your side. The lights suddenly go dim and the crowd goes insane.

The show’s about to start. You heart seemed to float up into your throat as you stood sweating and nervous, Nejire screaming her head off and jumping up and down when the band came rising up from the bottom of the stage. Smoke covers them for a while until it clears and all you see is Todoroki standing above you, the real him finally being exposed to you as you gaze from the crowd.

He was even more handsome in person. Tonight he wore black jeans and a white band tank top ,showing off his muscular and tattooed arms. Chains hung on his hip and his boots as he propped his foot up on the amplifier in front of him.

“YOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” He screamed into the mic, causing the crowd to scream impossibly louder. He smirked, causing you to feel woozy just seeing him look so smug, as if he knew the effects he had on his fans.

You could’ve died right there a happy woman as the band started to play their hit single, the gritty sound of the electric guitar sending chills up your spine as you and Nejire headbang and dance to the music. You sing along to the top of your lungs, watching as Todoroki owned the stage. You gaze up at him again to see something completely and utterly unbelievable.

He was looking right at you.

You gasp, your eyes widening as you lock eyes with him. Shoto kneeled down towards you and reached his hand out to you. You almost scream and grab his tattooed hand with both of your own and smile at him, keeping your eyes focused on his. Shoto took your hand and kissed it as he sang a pretty racy part of his song to you,

“I wanna take you home.” (sleeping with sirens fans?? your nickle aint worth my dime???? NO?)

Oh. My. God

“OH MY FUCKING GOD! Y/N, HE-“ Nejire screamed, just as excited as you. You stood there shocked and flustered, staring into space. Todoroki fucking Shoto just kissed your hand. Shoto smirked and let your hand go, continuing the rest of his show in hopes you got the message. He wanted you. It was common sense that you go to the afterparty now.

The show continued for another 2 hours, Todoroki now dripping in sweat from the hot lights shining upon him and his band.

“Thank you all so much for coming out. For those invited, I’ll see you all at the afterparty! Goodnight everyone!” Todoroki bellowed to the crowd, causing them to cheer him and the band off the stage.

You stand there, high off of every guitar riff and belt from the performance feeling sad that the concert was over. But a rush of hope filled your heart in knowing that you were going to see Shoto again soon. You and Nejire walk out of the stadium hand in hand as you discussed the plan to get to the party.

“So the party is not too far from here, exactly 15 minutes away. We could totally call an uber.” Nejire explains, saying that it’s going to be held in Todoroki’s mansion.

When you both arrive at Todoroki’s Mansion your jaws drop. A huge fountain greeted your uber driver’s car, cobblestone driveways leading you towards his front door. There were hedge sculptures all over the front yard and expensive cars adorned the driveway as you and Nejire step out of the car to see the line to get into the party. Damn. More lines.

You approach the security guard; the same one from earlier that night with a nervous wave.

“U-Um excuse me sir, we’re on the list..” You said unconfidently. Nejire nervous laughed and nudged you for sounding so unsure after giving you a long confidence pep-talk in the car.

“Sorry, kiddo. I’m not seein’ an ‘Y/N’ or a ‘Nejire’. Back o’ the line, ladies.” The security guard huffed, hardly even looking at his list.

“Nah it’s cool, Ben. Let them in.” You hear a familiar voice utter before you get the chance to turn around and walk to the back of the line. Sure enough it was Todoroki standing there, joint lit and eyes hazy. Clearly stoned.

It was like he got more gorgeous as you got closer to him, your cheeks heating up as you realize you’re literally standing in front of your fucking celebrity crush. Nejire squeals and runs inside to go find the drummer and get his number, she says drummers do it harder.

Shoto took you by the hand and led you inside the rager in his foyer. The smell of beer and weed absorbs your nostrils as you walk inside with Shoto in hand, watching as Nejire talks up the drummer with ease as if she already knew him from way back when.

Todoroki sat down on the most comfortable couch you have ever sat in with you next to him, taking a big drag of his joint and motioning it towards you.

“Wanna hit? It’s not laced. Promise.” He said cooly, slowly blowing out the smoke. You take it and take a hit, coughing a little as you puff out the smoke.

Damn this must be what rich people smoke.

“Good huh? Grew it myself. Heh.” Todoroki laughed a little as he watched you take another hit.

“Shit. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, finally.” You say, nervousness coating your tongue. Shoto gave you a warm smile, his hazy eyes gleaming in the dim lights of the room.

“Gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl.” Shoto said, kissing the same hand he did at the concert.

You heat up, your panties becoming slightly wet at him touching and kissing you. He smirked and grabbed you by your chin to make sure you look him directly into his grey orbs.

“When I saw you in the crowd, I almost couldn’t keep my eyes off you.” He said into your ear, causing your mind to block out any outside sound that wasn’t his voice. You gulp, blinking dumbly as you try to find the words to say something.

“I-I, um. Th-thank you.” You say, looking down into his lap. Shoto pulled away to smoke his joint a little more. You two talked all night, everyone around you both becoming irrelevant as you seemingly grow closer together.

Strangely, none of the rumors about Todoroki were true. He wasn’t this stuck up asshole the media made him out to be. He was calm and gentle, the sweetest guy you’ve ever had the pleasure of having a conversation with. You learned so much about him that night. He was so misunderstood.

You’re high now and completely hazy as you and Todoroki make out on the couch. You’re not sure how you two even got to this point but you loved it. One thing led to another and now you were straddling him on the couch, his hands in your back pockets as he groped and squeezed your ass.

Your lips mingled as you moan into the kiss, Todoroki’s tongue slipping into your mouth to make home of it. The kiss got so hot your pussy was sopping wet underneath your jeans as you mindlessly grind against him for some kind friction.

Todoroki pulled away and started kissing your neck, damn near ripping your clothes off in front of the entire party. You’re gasping and grabbing at his clothes, forgetting where you are as you become desperate for him. You wanted him so bad and you knew he wanted you too.

“Wanna get out of here? Go upstairs I mean.” Shoto asked, huffing into the skin of your neck as his hard dick poked at your thigh.

“God yes.” You say breathily. As soon as he got your consent he carried you upstairs, the party raising their glasses and their blunts in celebration for Todoroki getting some.

“YES! Y/N tell me everything okay!?” Nejire yelled drunkenly, pulling away from her makeout session with the band’s drummer. You giggle and wave down at her, Todoroki laughing softly as he watched the interaction between you and your best friend.

“Just so you know, princess. I’m not going to go easy on you.” Shoto said, pinning you against the hallway wall.

“I don’t want you to.” You mewl, leaning into his neck to nip at it. Shoto let out a low chuckle and nearly kicked down his bedroom door, tossing you onto his luxurious california king bed.

You take a quick look around his darkly colored room, black walls with coordinating grey funiture. Posters of his inspiration adorned his walls, almost similar to your room just $100,000 richer. He had a mirror above his bed as you look up at your reflection you see Todoroki crawl on top of you, unbuttoning and pulling your jeans off in one fell swoop.

You’re immediately embarrassed, forgetting it was laundry day at home so you threw a thong on because you didn’t have anything else to wear. It was black and lacy and oh so skimpy you quickly move your hands to cover up in shame, Shoto grabbing your wrists and pinning your hands above your head.

“Heh. How’d you know I love lace?” Shoto teased, practically salivating at the sight of your smooth legs beneath him. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Shoto said, running his hands along your sides as if he was a lion playing with his prey before he ate it.

You bit your lip, dripping and hungry for some kind of touch in the places you needed him most, your nipples prodding at the thin fabric of your band tee. Yeah, you forgot to wear a bra. Shoto pulled your shirt above your head, tossing it somewhere and hissing at the sight of your bare breasts.

“No bra either? Man.. it must be my birthday. I’m gonna have fun with you, princess.” Todoroki says taking a nipple into his mouth, not breaking eye contact with you as he suckled gently following with short lick causing your entire body to catch flame.

You start moaning miserably, your whole body begging him to take you. Shoto pulls away from your nipple with a light pull of his lips and slips his hand down to your slit, caressing it agonizingly slow to tease you. He takes his other hand and presses his thumb to your lips.

“Open your mouth.” He rasped. And you did, sucking on his thumb as he rested it on your tongue making Shoto moan at the sight, humming a ‘good girl’ under his breath. Shoto held your mouth open and spit, pulling you into a sloppy kiss as he plunged his thick digits into your needy hole.

You arch your back off the bed, biting down onto Shoto’s lip as he finger fucked you without mercy. Your moans filled the air, Shoto watching you intently as he took your breast into his mouth once more.

“Sho- ah! I-I’m gonna-“ You bellow, trying to hold onto something for dear life as he brought you closer and closer to your peak.

“That’s daddy to you, princess. Try again and maybe I’ll let you cum around my fingers.” Shoto hissed, slowing his pumping fingers a bit to ensure you got the point.

He was in control. You pant, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath only for it to get caught in your throat again. Desperate moans fall out of your mouth as you beg him to let you cum.

“D-Daddy!~” You gasp, Shoto leaning into your neck, his ear right next your mouth as you scream for him. You collapse into his arms, fucked out and stupid off Todoroki’s strong fingers. All those years of guitar weren’t for nothing.

“That’s it baby.. fuck, you made a mess.” Shoto cooed, slowly dragging his fingers out of you as he watched your slick stick to him sloppily. At this point, he’s so hard you can clearly see the veins in his dick jumping out of his pants, his size making you wince in pain before he even entered you.

“Think you can take all of me, princess?” Shoto asked, throwing his contricting pants and boxers somewhere across the room, releasing his impressive size for you to see. You gulp but nod, licking your lips at the sight of him.

Shoto smirked at your reaction and pumped himself a few times before teasingly tapping the head of his dick against your clit, causing you to yelp from the sensitivity of your abused core.

“Pleaseee.” You whine, Shoto grabbing you by the neck and choking you almost to tell you to shut up and be patient. He wastes no time in plunging into you, the thickness of his dick stretching your walls with a delicious sting.

You claw at his back as he bottomed out, gasping sharply as he filled you completely.

“Am I hurting you?” Todoroki asked with what little sympathy he had left in his body. You shook your head no, moaning as he stayed still inside you.

“P-P-Please move..” you mewl, chewing your bottom lip. Shoto smirked and began rutting his hips into yours at a rough pace, not really caring if you adjusted to him or not. Hard slaps and the sound of your whiny moans filled the room as the headboard of his bed slammed against the wall, probably alerting the entire party downstairs.

You’re screaming now, a moaning mess beneath him as he split you wide open. As your eyes rolled to the back of your head, Shoto throws your legs over his shoulder and starts pounding into you.

He’s going to make sure you’re unable to walk straight for the rest of the week, marking you as his.

“Fuckkk, daddy. S-Slow down.” You pleaded only for Shoto to ignore you and continue his pace, laughing at the shocked and fucked out face you were pulling.

“Told you I wasn’t taking it easy on you. Did you forget already, princess?” Shoto breathed, moving his hands to rub shallow circles into your clit.

Your toes curled up tightly as your orgasm ripped through your body, your moans reaching a cresendo as your scream Shoto’s name.

He hissed as your walls fluttered around him, your pussy gripping him tightly as he fucked into you continuosly.

“I hope you didn’t think I was through with you just because I made you cum. I’m not done yet, doll.” Shoto muttered through your pathetic whines for him to slow down.

He cooed praises at you, a “good girl” here and a “you take my dick so well” there until his thrusts got rusty and sloppy; a sign he was close to cumming.

“Shittt, where do you want me to-“

“I-Inside m-mee! Fuck, cum inside me!” You shriek. And so he did, fucking his hot stickiness into you for a while as you both moan and pant. Shoto rode out your climaxes for a while before slowly pulling himself out as he watched his cum ooze out of your abused pussy.

As Shoto flopped on the bed next to you, you both stare up at the mirror on his ceiling. You’re both sweaty and your hair was a fucking mess from being tossed around the bed for what seemed like hours.

“Shit. Probably late as fuck by now. You wanna stay the night?” Shoto asked, taking your hand and famously kissing it once more. You smile and nod, unable to form coherent sentences as you feel yourself doze off.

Todoroki jumps from his bed and opened the door, screaming from the top of the stairs, “Oi! All you motherfuckers can fuck off home!Party’s over!” You laugh and throw a pillow at him.

“Don’t be so mean, Sho. Uh.. C-Can I call you Sho?” You ask embarrassed.

“You keep fucking me like that you can call me whatever you want, angel.” Shoto groans, grabbing you by your face and kissing you sweetly.

“Honestly, I wanna go again. You down?”

#bnha smut #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha imagines #bnha midoriya x reader #bnha todoroki x reader #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #bnha todoroki #bnha todoroki shoto #punk rock au!

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