#fic: come over here and overwhelm me
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Come Over Here and Overwhelm Me: an even better life (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC)
Summary: Goin' to the courthouse and they're gonna get married - life is even better than either of them could imagine.
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC (Ronnie Bradshaw)
Word Count: 4815
Warnings: just some old-fashioned tooth-rotting fluff, my babies are getting married y'all, flashforward, pregnancy stuff
EIGHT | NINE | TEN
ââŠâŠlikes are great but comments/reblogs are even better!
ââŠâŠwe've reached the end girlies - thank you for coming on this journey with me and maybe getting some joy out of this story i wrote. love you all dearly.
ââŠâŠmasterlist on pinned
Ronnie smoothed out the skirt of her simple white dress one last time. She was lucky she even had one. Tucked away in the back of her closet with the tag still on. She distinctly remembered that she had every intention of returning it, thinking it too bridal for the backyard barbeque she bought it for.
For just a moment she fretted over not having any nice shoes, but everyone insisted the white pair of Berks she owned were too perfect for her not to wear. Too like her. Too like them.Â
Then Ronnie adjusted the grip she had on the small bundle of flowers held in her hands. They were nothing special, and she would have been content with no flowers at all. But then Phoenix went outside from where the girls were getting ready at Ronnieâs house, and came back in a few minutes later with the little bouquet. Ronnie recognized the flowers instantly from her neighborâs yard. A girl needs flowers on her wedding day, Phoenix explained while she put the bundle in a cup of water to keep them fresh.
Ronnie was getting married today.
And according to the clock, she was getting married in less than five minutes.Â
The thought made a laugh bubble up in her throat. Unbelieving and giddy like she was sixteen and being asked to prom again. She stared at the wood of the courtroom doors practically begging them to open. Jake was the one who insisted on doing at least this part traditionally. With the reveal of the bride and being walked down the makeshift aisle. Let the anticipation grow a lilâ, sweets.Â
So Bradley stood beside her just outside the county courtroom, hands folded in front of himself, looking more nervous than she was. Still in his dress khakis, he had readjusted his ribbons at least ten times since they arrived.Â
She spent another minute watching his anxious fiddling before he suddenly asked, âYouâre not pregnant, are you?â
Ronnieâs eyes went wide for a moment before she guffawed. âWhat? No! I mean, would that be such a bad thing if I was?â
âNo, no! Thatâs not what I meant. Itâs justâŠAre you sure you donât wanna⊠I donât know⊠wait?â he asked, looking down at her softly and full of brotherly concern that she missed and hated all at once. âDo the whole ceremony thing with the big dress and the invitations and the party?â
âI donât really care about any of that stuff.â Ronnie shrugged with a smile. âI just wanna be married. I wanna be married to Jake.âÂ
Bradley laughed with a disbelieving shake of his head. âHow can you be so confident just all the time?â
It was meant to be a joke, but Bradley was pretty sure it flopped. There was too much behind it for it to really land. Bradley had always had a problem with hesitation. Waiting too long to act, going through all the variables, taking things slow just in case. While Ronnie had never hesitated about anything in her entire life. If she wanted something she went after it. A medal in surfing, a degree in business, the man that she loved.
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â she asked, and Bradley felt even worse that he had to explain himself.Â
âI meanâŠâ He sighed, dragging a hand down his face as he thought of the right words. âIf I were in your shoes â Iâd be thinking over every single little thing. If I were Hangman I donât even know if I wouldâve found the guts to ask you to marry me let alone just elope. I mean, what if things go bad and you get divorced? What if his family doesnât like you? What if this isnât the right choice at all?â
âWell, okay, number one â Iâm glad you didnât ask me to marry you, âcause thatâs gross and also illegal,â she said with a grin and he shoved her shoulder playfully, rolling his eyes. âBut, number two, of course Iâm thinking about that stuff. Iâm not insane. ButâŠNone of that really matters. What does matter is that I love Jake and he loves me. Nothinâ else to it. If Iâve got him, none of that other stuff worries me at all.âÂ
Bradley just looked at her for a moment. Ronnieâs brown eyes so much like his own, so much like their dadâs, that shone with a kind of love he thought was made up for movies. Her in that white dress with the wilting flowers and hair curled. It was a sight he never thought he would get to see â let alone that she would ask him to walk her down the aisle.Â
Then he shook his head. âI donât think I could do thatâŠâÂ
âThat might be my fault, in all honesty,â she chuckled back. âI definitely was insane as a kid. Made you do all my worrying for me.âÂ
Bradley ran an exasperated hand over his face. âGod, remember that time you slid down the roof in a laundry basket and broke your arm?âÂ
âYeah. Best ten seconds of my life,â Ronnie joked with a nudge back.
There was shuffling behind the oak doors and Ronnie sucked in a sharp breath. The five minutes were up. It was time. Despite his reservations and concern for her, Bradley offered Ronnie his arm. She took it gladly. He was the only one she would ever let walk her down the aisle. It was always going to be her older brother. No matter how much space was between them. He taught her how to tie her shoes, helped her with her homework, and helped her grow into the woman standing before those courthouse doors. She never wanted her wedding day without him.Â
God, she was getting married today.
âI think these ones are about to take top spot,â Bradley muttered.
Ronnie took a deep breath, her heart racing, and butterflies filling her stomach. âYou might be right.â
The doors swung open, the first few notes of some NSYNC song filling the too-large space for so few people. It was just a county courthouse, nothing fancy. All wooden furniture bolted to green carpet and pictures of old judges lining the walls. But none of that mattered.Â
No, it didnât matter at all because Jake was standing there in his dress blues with a smile on his face. He had his hands clasped in front of him, but she noticed the way he quickly wiped beneath his eyes as Bradley escorted her down the aisle.
Holy shit, she mouthed to him and he laughed.Â
Javy was standing right beside him; hopefully, with his mission completed and a ring in his pocket. The portly judge with his wire grey mustache, wearing the black robe was on Jakes other side, grinning like it was his own child's wedding. And standing off to the side was Penny, wearing a pretty pink dress and holding a single daisy.Â
The rest of the aviators were standing in front of the wooden benches. Mickey held the speaker playing the NSYNC, looking pleased with himself. Ronnie could hear Maverick sniffling as she passed him. She wished her parents could be there to see this, but she was glad Pete Mitchell was.Â
Bradley let her hand slip from the crook of his elbow. Then Jake reached for her with a gentle grin, held out his hand for her to take. But Ronnie waited. Looked back at her brother one lsat time. And he grinned at her with a nod of his head, a nudge, go on.
She went. She turned to Jake and took his hand with a smile. The judge started speaking but she couldnât hear a word he was saying. Not when Jake Seresin was looking at her like his life was truly, finally, completely about to start. With her. Only took them five years and a chance reunion to figure it out. It was insane now, standing in that county courthouse and white-knuckling his hand, to think back on the dread that filled her when he walked into the var that day. There was no dread now, no fear. Just anticipation, just love, just a life truly, finally, completely about to start. Together.Â
âOh, sheâs pretty,â a feminine voice said, crackling like they were on the other end of a phone. âEven prettier than the pictures he sent me.âÂ
âCan you see? She pregnant or what?â a male voice asked.Â
âTony! You shush!âÂ
Ronnie tried to focus on what the judge was saying, something about opportunities like this and love and never having so many witnesses to a courthouse wedding before, but she was finding it increasingly difficult with that going on in the background. She just barely caught the judgeâs instruction for them to turn to one another. Passing off her flowers to Penny before taking both of Jakeâs hands.Â
The two voices continued to chatter.Â
âWhoâs on the phone right now?â she mumbled to Jake as the judge went on with the ceremony.Â
âJavy â with my parents,â he replied under his breath. âTheyâre on FaceTime. Donât think they know we can hear them.âÂ
âOh, they definitely donât,â she chuckled lightly, and he did too.Â
âMay we have the rings?â the judge asked, looking to Javy, who fished the rings out of his pocket and handed them over with a smile.Â
Then the judge passed off the simple golden band to Ronnie. Her breath stuttered out of her as she took it with a shaking hand. Jake gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. But it wasnât nerves that made her tremble now. It was eagerness.Â
âDo you, Veronica, commit yourself to Jake as your husband to learn and grow with, to respect hi min everything as an equal partner, in the foreknowledge of joy and pain, strength and weariness, direction and doubt, for all the risings and settings of the sun?â
âI do,â she answered without hesitation, brown eyes boring into Jakeâs with all the love and trust in the world.Â
âNow repeat after me,â the judge went on, âWith this ringâŠI wed youâŠAnd pledge you my loveâŠNow and forever.â
With her last repetition, she slipped the ring onto his finger. And she grinned from ear to ear at the sight. The ring a few sizes too big on him, but it didnât even matter. Jake Seresin was hers. Truly, finally, completely. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she looked up into his grinning face.Â
âHoly shit,â she said aloud, mostly to herself, thumb running over the cool metal now adorning his finger.Â
Distantly, she heard everyone in the room laugh at her proclamation. Even Jakeâs parents on the phone. But the only laugh she could truly hear, the only smile she could see, was Jakeâs. His eyes watery and crinkled at the corners, and cheeks red as he looked at her like he wanted to spend all his moments in between with her.
The judge handed Jake her motherâs engagement ring. The ring only a few hours ago he asked her to marry him with in the first place.Â
âDo you, Jake, commit yourself to Veronica as your wife to learn and grow with, to respect her in everything as an equal partner, in the foreknowledge of joy and pain, strength and weariness, direction and doubt, for all the risings and settings of the sun?â
âAbsolutely, I do,â he replied with a kind of stern earnestness that even the most vile would believe to the core.Â
âNow repeat after me. With this ringâŠI wed youâŠAnd pledge you my loveâŠNow and forever.â
âNowâŠAnd forever,â Jake repeated as he slipped the ring on her finger for the second time that day.Â
He wanted her. He chose her. Now and forever. Truly, finally, completely. He wanted to stay. To spend the night, every night. He wanted to hold and comfort as she cried, pick out furniture with her, listen to her singing in the shower, disagree with her over little and big things, know about her day. He wanted her up close and personal and every day. For so long, Ronnie thought no one would ever want her like that. But Jake did. It was written all over his face as he took her hand completely and tugged her in close.Â
âBy the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.â
Everyone cheered and whooped and hollered as Jake pulled her in and pressed his lips to hers. It was firm and sure and sweet. And it didnât surprise her at all when he dipped her nearly to the floor. Trusting him completely to hold her up as they both smiled into the kiss.
The chilled Maryland spring air blew through the open window. Despite how much she had complained about the cold East-coast weather the past six months, Ronnie had to admit the breeze felt amazing as she lifted one of the last remaining boxes and began carrying it down the hall to the front room.Â
It felt like only yesterday they were packing up her stuff in Miramar. But now their time in DC was complete â Jakeâs detachment with the Blue Blasters in Oceana had come to a close. They had spent the time making a home together in their cheap rental, attending Navy balls and award ceremonies, and seeing as many of the sights as Jake would allow Ronnie to drag him to. Now, Jake was taking two weeks of leave, the most time he had ever taken since joining the Academy, to get them settled in their new home.
A house built on his parentâs land in Austin, Texas. Ronnie hoped the weather down there would be more agreeable with her. Less cold at the very least. Once settled, he would start his new instructor position at Fort Worth. A brand new training squadron in the heart of Texas. It was amazing the kind of sway he could carry on his requests now that he was a Lieutenant Commander.Â
As Ronnie entered the front room, Jake came back inside the small house from where he had been putting things in the moving truck.
He hadnât shaved in three days, a new record for him, and was already sporting a nice layer of stubble. Ronnie regretted it as soon as she told him it looked good, only succeeding in fueling his ego. He had sweat through his grey t-shirt, leaving massive stains on his chest and back. He puts his hands on his hips and sighed when he spotted her carrying the box into the room.Â
âHey, I got it, darlinâ. I got it,â Jake said as he scooped it out of her arms.
Ronnie rolled her eyes. âI can carry a box, Jake. Itâs not even that heavy.â
âYeah, yeah, youâre a strong and capable woman.â He kissed her forehead as he shifted the box in his arms.Â
âDamn straight,â she muttered back with a slight pout.Â
âWhoâs also eighteen weeks pregnant and has a husband who loves her too much.âÂ
She looked down at her bump, unsuccessfully hidden beneath the overalls she struggled to put on that morning. Just another thing that no longer fit â but Ronnie swore still did. She felt her cheeks heat up and butterflies fill her stomach as she glanced up at Jakeâs knowing grin. It was a little miracle. One that most days she still couldnât believe. Her greatest dream finally come true â given to her by the man she loved.Â
Ronnie looked back up at him now, trying not to smile as she said, âShut up.â
âNo, you shut up.â Jake grinned himself as he leaned down and pressed his lips to her own. Then he nodded his head down at the box. âWhatâs in this one?â
âBaby stuff,â she replied.Â
All those onesies she just couldnât help but buy even though they didnât know the sex yet. All those outfits Jake couldnât stop himself from ordering because heâll look like a tiny adult.Â
âOkay. This oneâll go in the truck. Then I think weâre good to go.âÂ
He raised his eyebrows at her excitedly before he turned and walked back out the door. Ronnie sighed as she looked around the place one last time. The rental was small and in desperate need of updating. The walls were thin and the grass was perpetually dead. And Jake more than once had to call maintenance and nearly yell at them to get their asses out there to fix something. But it was their first place, their first home, together. Now, all their stuff was packed up save for the furniture they got with the place and were going to leave for the next tenant. The perks of military provided housing.Â
She sunk down onto that lumpy couch that was being left behind with another deep breath. Okay, she wasnât going to miss this exactly. ButâŠ
Ronnie found out she was pregnant in that bathroom straight out of the eighties. Screaming and crying and running around the house while Jake just watched her with an amused smile. They tried cooking together in that kitchen. Meal kits with easy instructions because they were both terrible at it. She and Jake slow danced in that front room. When they first moved in â because it was Tuesday â after their first prenatal appointment and they heard that sweet hummingbird-like heartbeat for the first time. Maverick and Penny came to visit and they played charades on that back porch. They heard the good news and Maverick cried, thinking about her mom and dad and how they would be so proud.
There were so many memories in that house. Ones she didnât want to forget.Â
But home was the two of them, together. Soon to be the three of them. Subconsciously, she put a hand on her belly. A year ago she was alone in her room in Miramar, eating Chinese takeout with some shitty reality show on in the background after a day of surfing and feeling sorry for herself. Missing her brother, missing her friends, thinking that maybe she was incapable of finding someone to love. It amazed her now how she thought that life was good. Satisfactory. Enough. This was a good life â an even better one than anything she ever had before. She had a husband who loved her, a brother who called, and a little one on the way she couldnât wait to meet.Â
Jake came back inside, brushing his hands off on one another. He dropped down onto the couch beside her with a groan, slinging one arm up behind her as he took one last look around the place. He smelled like sweat, but Ronnie didnât mind. She wondered if he was thinking about all those moments too. All those memories they had there. When he reached down and squeezed her shoulder, she knew that he was.
âYou ready to go?â he asked quietly, giving her arm another squeeze.Â
âUh, yeah. Prolly should go pee again though.â
âGood call.â
But she didnât get up. She stayed rooted to the couch, glued under his soft touch and the sinking feeling in her gut at leaving. Starting over. Being with his family. She had seen the pictures. Their house was only a few yards away from the Seresin family ranch where his parents lived. They might not be living in the same house, but they were going to be around all the time. Ronnie had never been that close to family, to people in her entire life. And sure, she met Grace Seresin, that good Southern momma who raised an amazing son, and her husband Anthony, when they came to visit DC for a week. They ate at the good restaurants Jake and Ronnie had found and Grace talked about the party she wanted to throw for them, a late reception, when they found themselves in Texas. But then they left. Ronnie had never loved someone up close before. Even with Jake, it was a struggle at first to have him near and tangible and all the time. Uncertainty filled her now, which Jake seemed to notice, his arm curling around her shoulder and tugging her in close to his sweaty chest.Â
âDo youâŠâ she started quietly, reaching up to fiddle with his dog tags that had slipped out from beneath his shirt. âDo you think theyâll like me?â
Jake leaned out so he could look her in the face with a furrowed brow. âThey already love you? You talk to my mom on the phone literally all the time.âÂ
âI know, I know. Itâs justâŠâ She sighed, dropping her hand into his lap. âIn person is different. And theyâre just right there. What if I run out of stuff to talk about?â
âYouâre having another Seresin grandbaby â trust me, youâll have plenty to talk about,â he said with a reassuring grin.Â
âBut youâllâŠYouâll be there to help me though, right?â Ronnie tilted her head up to look at him with those big brown eyes and Jake was a goner.Â
âOf course I will, darlinâ.â He kissed her forehead, then her lips. âYou know Iâm always gonna be there.â
Ronnie nodded before she sunk into him further, burrowing her head into his shoulder as she wrapped her arms as best she could around his middle. Jake chuckled as he kissed the top of her head. It was nearly insane to think that a year ago he was a bachelor stationed at Lemoore, hooking up with whoever just to feel something. Anything besides lonely and scared and angry. Thinking about a girl he left behind because he was too stupid to see past himself. Now, he was a husband. He was going to be a father. A thought that terrified and excited him all at once. All with that girl he left and found again â the best thing that ever happened to him. He kissed her head again, breathed in her scent of coconut and sandy shores, and thanked whatever was out there for giving him another chance.Â
âOh!â Ronnie squirmed, the baby who had been still since she woke up that morning now practically doing backflips in her belly. She pried one arm loose to rest a hand on her bump. âSomeone finally decided to wake up. Sleepy-head.âÂ
Jake was quick to have a hand of his own on her growing bump, trying to feel what she felt. His touch was firm, assured against her body as Ronnie angled her back against his chest so he could reach better. With a smile, she placed her hand over his and guided it to where the baby was kicking up a storm, feather-light little pulses that had them both laughing softly. Jake kissed her neck as his fingers spread wide, nearly covering the whole bump, content to stroke her through her overalls. And she was content to feel completely held.Â
âI think heâs telling us we should go,â Jake muttered against that spot just beneath her ear, making her shoulders bunch up.Â
âHe?â Ronnie questioned as Jake untangled himself and rose from the couch with a stretch. âHow do you know itâs not a girl?â
He pulled at the hem of his shirt, trying to dry out the massive sweat stains before they rode in the car for ten hours. âTrust me, Seresins are only capable of shooting out boys. Going back three generations.â
âGod, now I really want it to be a girl,â she said, scooting herself to the edge of the couch.Â
Jake came over and held out his hands, which Ronnie gladly took in order to hoist herself out of the cushions. She hoped the couch his mom picked out was easier to get off of at least.Â
âItâs not gonna be,â he told her once she was standing.Â
She shrugged. âOkay, well, now youâre just jinxing yourself.âÂ
âPee so we can go, please?â he laughed with a roll of his eyes, pointing towards the hall. âIâll meet you at the car.â
âYes, Commander.â She saluted playfully and he glared at her before turning towards the door.Â
A few minutes later, Ronnie was out the door and locking it behind her. She dropped the key in the old metal letterbox still screwed into the drab tan siding so their landlord could pick it up later. She looked at the place one last time. Took in the flowers she had planted herself that were just coming back up for their second season. Took in the chipped paint on the door that drove Jake insane because he couldnât just repaint and seal it himself (Yeah, I know the landlordâs supposed to do it, but I know how, Ronnie!). She put her hand to the doorframe with an affectionate smile.Â
âBye, house,â she whispered before turning and going down the front steps.Â
Jake stood by the moving truck talking to his brother Darren and his two teenage boys. Ronnie was immensely appreciative that he could take leave and help them get moved. Darren was the only one of Jakeâs brothers that she had met so far. He lived in DC, worked in administration at Naval District Washington. Jake joked about him being a Yeoman a lot, but Darren just took it in stride. He was quiet but kind, a sternness about him that really only came with experience. And he loved his little brother a lot. Not to mention, he was attractive. Clean cut jaw and those Seresin green eyes. Ronnie had to wonder if Jake just came from a family of models turned Navy men.Â
âThere she is!â one of Darrenâs sons, Isaiah, cheered as Ronnie came down the last step. The other one, Harvey, just stood there and blushed crimson at his brotherâs antics. âThereâs that hot mama!â
âDude,â Jake warned his nephew with one hand up in question.
âWhat? I love it when eighteen-year-olds call me hot mama,â Ronnie said as she wrapped an arm around Jakeâs waist. âIâm hot and Iâm gonna be a mama â itâs just facts, babe.âÂ
âYeah, itâs just facts, babe,â Isaiah butted in.
âWhatever, can we just go, please?â Jake gestured towards the car.Â
âYep, itâs a long drive, we better get goinâ,â Darren groaned, stretching out his back as he pulled the moving truck keys from his pocket.Â
Ronnie put a hand to his elbow with a smile. âThanks for doing this again. Be safe, okay? Call if you need anything.âÂ
âHappy to help,â Darren replied.Â
âSee you in Texas, hot mama!â Isaiah called out, already having climbed into the front of the truck with Harvey still blushing crimson.Â
Ronnie laughed, head thrown back and a hand on her hip. When she turned, Jake was standing on her side of the car holding the door open, looking slightly grumpy. He got rid of his Corvette a long time ago, albeit mournfully. He really loved that car. But it wasnât a family car. Now he drove around proudly in a Subaru with a large trunk and enough backseat space for at least two carseats. Something he liked to remind Ronnie about constantly. She shook her head as she approached him.
âWhy are you pouting?â she asked, only slightly mocking, as she came to a stop â the car door sandwiched between them.Â
ââCauseâŠâ When he spoke again it was quiet, delivered with a shrug. ââCause youâre my hot mama.âÂ
âOh, babe,â she laughed, taking his face in her hands and bringing him down for a soft kiss. âOf course Iâm your hot mama. Wouldnât be one without you, soâŠâ
Jake chuckled against her lips before kissing her again. Slow and sweet and filled with so much joy. Then the moving truckâs horn went off and Ronnie nearly jumped out of her skin. The couple turned, and Isaiah was falling back into the passenger seat with a cackle. Jake just flipped him the bird, which earned him a quieter honk from Darren, before giving his wife one last peck at the corner of her mouth.Â
âCome on.â Jake nodded his head for her to climb inside the car.Â
And she did, settling into the seat and already getting out a packet of chips to munch on. Jake joined her in the driverâs seat soon enough. And then they were off. Towards a new life, a new home, a new adventure. Ronnieâs breath sighed from her like soft summer rain as she looked over her shoulder at the house one last time, watched it disappear from view as they turned onto the main road. Jake took her hand and gave it a squeeze, reassuring and empowering.
With Jake, she was home. She was loved. She was powerful. She could do anything with him by her side. Even live a life better than anything she could have ever imagined.
i no longer have a taglist, please follow @anniesocsandlibrary and turn on notifications for updates
#oc: ronnie bradshaw#fic: come over here and overwhelm me#fd: top gun#top gun maverick#top gun#top gun oc#top gun fanfiction#top gun x oc#top gun imagine#top gun fanfic#top gun fic#top gun maverick x oc#top gun maverick fic#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin#hangman#jake hangman seresin imagine#jake seresin imagine#hangman imagine#jake hangman seresin x oc#jake seresin x oc#hangman x oc#glen powell
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wip roundup!
tagged by @kirnet đ©· tagging @nat-seal-well, @crownleys, @serenpedac aaand you sorry when i do these games i feel like i forget every single one of my creator mutuals
rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it!
nat/detective honeymoon
nate/detective honeymoon
ava/nat
#aaaand that's it i get overwhelmed by multiple projects easily#very original naming system we've got over here#titles usually don't come to me until i've finished or get close to done#the nat/nate honeymoon are just different versions of the same fic like how mishka does it :)
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Wanting a good grade in writing fanfictionâŠ.something that is normal to want and possible to achieve⊠đ«„
#LMAO yeah. I hate the stats page on ao3#I like posting fics here so much more bc I only see then notifications I donât see the whole picture of how many people clicked on it and#and didnât leave kudos or comments :/#I know I know i know I am not owed anything and im doing this for free and itâs unedited and I didnât make Aaron hotchner up myself lol#anyway on like. a more positive note#if you sort by kudos on ao3 for barba x reader my fic comes up on the first page#so like. good grade achieved???#anyway anyway anyway this is not me complaining and OF COURSE I am so grateful for the overwhelming support Iâve gotten recently#especially for the abortion fic bc I was terrified how that was gonna go over
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hii, Iâm not sure if you take request still but if so is there a possible way you can do a drew x singer!reader one shot take on how Sabrina âarrestsâ her fans before performing Juno for being too hot but the reader does it to Drew during her shows please đ«¶đŒ
arrested for being too hot â DREW STARKEY
authors note THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS!! my request box is still open so feel free to send me any ideas regarding singer!reader or regular fic ideas youâd like me to write. this was so much writing too. thank for all the love on my last fic lovies <3
taglist †if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.
summary "arresting" drew, your boyfriend, during your show before performing your song from your new album.
warning(s) none!
You are on tour for your new album in-front of thousands of fans almost every night. You worked hard on this album and it turned out wonderfully. If it werenât for the amazing fans of yours, you donât know where youâd be in your careerâ they are the reason you are doing this.
Half way into the showâ going amazing. The crowd tonight isn't disappointing you. Everything you've hoped for on this tour. You've performed eighteen songs and about to go onto your nineteenth. Played musical spin the bottle not long ago which was really fun.
Before Juno, you begin with a small "skit" where you call someone out in the crowd, arresting them for being too hot. This became a thing after your first show of the tour and doing it ever since. Plus, fans absolutely love it. Interacting with your fans has always been something you did and create those bonds.
Drew, your boyfriend, is attending the show with Madelyn Cline, a mutual friend and cast-mate of Drew's. You told him earlier today you wanted to arrest him in the middle of the show to get the audience excited and it would be fun.
Drew was all for it, and he didn't want you to tell him what you were going to sayâhe prefers surprises.
Your pink, glittering, dazzling clothing was sparkling in the lights. You pressed your free hand to your brow as though you were looking around for a call. With security, you could see Drew and Madelyn making their way to the front.
You begin by adjusting your earpiece while moving around the stage in your long skirt. "You guys know that moment when you are in a room filled with such beautiful looking people that you start to feel overwhelmed?" When fans applaud, you smile.
"Oh, girls, I think I just seen my future husband in the front row! Oh my god, girls, come here, come here," you say anxiously into the microphone, beckoning them over and waving your free hand.
You turn to face Drew as the girls approach you, asking, "Do you see that gorgeous looking man over in the front row with his arms crossed in the tan shirt?" You speak into the microphone aloud, pointing to Drew in the crowd.
Your girls joyfully waved at Drew while placing their hands on your shoulder. As Drew blushes on the big screen, the crowd reflexively turns up the volume in the arena.Â
"What's your name handsome?" With your head cocked slightly to the right toward your shoulder, you inquire in jest.Â
"Drew!" You can hear him when he places his hands on the side of his lips. He gives you a childlike smile and a flushed face.
You say, "I'm sorry I couldn't get that?" as though you couldn't hear him. Leaning forward more, you place your free hand behind your ear.
He shakes his head and utters "Drew!" a little louder.Â
"Oh my Drew, I must say that you must be a magnet because you drew me in" brings a smile to your face. Your tone indicated that you were trying quite hard not to laugh, yet you kept your calm brilliantly.
Fans had their phones out, capturing the entire interaction. Nobody would have expected Drew to be the person arrested at your gigs since the tour began.
"Drew, you are under arrest for being too hot," you say aloud, smiling and pointing at himâ fanning yourself, moving your hips side to side as the sound of sirens going off with blue and red lights behind.
You put your left elbow against your girls shoulder, "guys do you ever just see someone so good looking that you just don't know what to do and all your clothes fall off in that moment" your long skirt slips off smoothy.
"Like your brain just like malfunctions and like I just wanna handcuffed to you now like," one of your girls puts the pink fluffy handcuffs into your hand, you kneel down, "do you know what I mean? Will you take these from me?"
Drew is overwhelmed in this very momentâ it's very obvious how much you are affecting him. Drew gives you a gimme me gesture with his fingers, ready to catch the hand cuffs.
He takes them in his hands, looks down, and feels the smooth texture of the fuzzy. He tilts his head to the side before slowly glancing up at you with a smirkâkeep in mind that he's still on the big screen.
"We're gonna sing this one to you, Drew."
Juno's song intro starts playing. You wave goodbye to Drew and Madelyn as you return to the center of the stage. You could hear the two begin speaking to fans in the distance.
Drew and Madelyn met you in the dressing room following the show. After giving Madelyn a hug and thanking her for attending the event, you moved to approach Drew and put your arms around his neck while grinning.
"That was insane," Madelyn exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. "What about the full call-out and the handcuffs? Iconic! "You're the talk of the night; everyone is crazy about it."
You giggled as your face heated up. "It seemed right." "You should have seen his face!"
She laughs, "I got the whole thing on video, I'll send it to you later."
"I'm going to give you two some alone time, but you did such an amazing job tonight and looked so hot doing it," Madelyn adds, taking your hands in her and wiggling her brows.Â
"Thank you, babe. I love you always," you say, hugging her before she leaves you and Drew alone.Â
When you close the door, Drew comes behind you, placing his arms around your waist and kissing you on the cheek, making you laugh with the tenderness of his lips.
"I'm so proud of you baby, you did such an amazing job on stage and looked unbelievable in your outfits made me feel like the luckiest guy in the entire world." He expresses emotionally, which uplifts you.Â
"Coming from you, it warms my heart baby. Forever grateful to have you in my life," you smile softly, leaning against his chest, feeling that sense of warmth you always feel whenever you are with him.
"And I'm forever grateful for you" he quietly responds, kissing the top of your head.
"So what are we gonna do with those pink fuzzy handcuffs?"
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Cross My Heart | KMG
Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)
Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU
Rating: M (18+)
Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy
Word Count: 5.2k
Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I donât own SVT - they just inspire me
Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.
Text Prompt: You: I canât stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face
A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now đ
Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile đ„ș) đ
SVT Masterlist đ Main Masterlist
Itâs finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, youâre exhausted.Â
Well, mentally youâre worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where itâs currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though itâs night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem.Â
Fucking jet lag got you anyway.
Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasnât so confused.
Because youâre trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, youâre lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you donât really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you.Â
So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.
Itâs an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, heâs Minghaoâs friend, you donât know him as well as you do the others, but still. Youâre friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever heâs around.Â
Heâs also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasnât long before you realized heâs like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.
Itâs morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.
Mingyuâs an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that youâre complaining. Itâs maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship youâve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around.Â
You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if heâs awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous?Â
Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. Itâs ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure heâs got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isnât spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye.Â
It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But heâs never struck you as conceited. Itâs something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-
A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.
Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago.Â
Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. Thereâs no need to panic. He couldnât have seen that. Maybe youâre overreacting, but no one needs to know youâre lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him.Â
A notification drops down over Mingyuâs face. A message.
Mingyu: Someoneâs up late.Â
Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now heâs in your DMs.Â
After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back.Â
You: Canât sleep
Mingyu: Same. Jet lagâs got me fucked up
Mingyu: You know what always helps when I canât sleep?
You: What?
Mingyu: Creeping through someoneâs old photos
Even though heâs not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that.Â
You: Shut up
Mingyu: Itâs ok, Iâm flattered
You: Oh fuck off
Mingyu: No really, I am
Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad
Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You canât handle this right now.
You: Idk what youâre talking about
You:Â It was an accident
Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me?Â
You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?
Mingyu: I mean yeah
You snort.Â
You: Youâre ridiculous
Mingyu: Maybe. But Iâm honest about it
You: Iâll give you that
A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe youâre boring him. Maybe heâs found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.
When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little.Â
Mingyu: What else will you give me?
And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is.Â
Would it be too real to reply with the truth? âWhatever you want?â
You: I donât know
You: What do you want?
Mingyu: What if I say you?
Suddenly you donât understand words.
You: Why would you say that?
Mingyu: Because itâs my answer
Mingyu: Iâm being honest again
You: Thatâs the jet lag talking
Mingyu: Oh come on
Mingyu: You really donât know?
You: Know what??
Mingyu: How I feel about you
Is he being serious right now??
You: If this is a joke I donât get it
Mingyu: Not a joke
Mingyu: Hold on
The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyuâs going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one.Â
Mingyu: See? Iâm obsessed with you
Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.
You: Youâre so annoying, oh my god
Mingyu: So annoying that you canât stop looking at my photos at 1 am?
Mingyu: Or flirting with me?
You: Is that whatâs happening? Are we flirting?
Mingyu: Ok donât act like you donât know
Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time
You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time
Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you
Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance.Â
You: Youâre so dumb
Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend youâre not enjoying this?
You: Who said Iâm pretending?
Mingyu: Me. I know youâre loving this
Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad
You: Shut uppppp
Mingyu: Go on, yell at me
Mingyu: Youâre cute when youâre mad
You: No really
You: I canât stand you
Mingyu: Then sit on my face
Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response.Â
You: What?
Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.
Youâre blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.
You: Fuck off. Stop playing.Â
Mingyu: Whoâs playing? Iâm serious
Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. Iâll go out a happy man.Â
Your gorgeous thighs? Heâs never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.
You canât help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. Itâs not the first time youâve fantasized about it, but itâs the first time the vision has felt⊠possible.Â
Mingyu: No response? Youâre just gonna leave me hanging like this?
You: Donât tease me
Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways Iâd love to tease you, but this isnât one
You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like youâre trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping. Â
You: Youâre really serious?
Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die
Mingyu: Between your legs
Again you laugh.
You: Youâre such an idiot
Mingyu: Does that mean youâre not coming over?
You: Like right now??
Mingyu: Why not?Â
Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring
Mingyu: Iâve got the room to myself
You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now.Â
You: I guess if Iâm not sleeping anytime soon
In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide.Â
You: I could come over
Mingyu: I promise Iâll make it so good for you
Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over
You inhale sharply. Heâs definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.
Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you
What else is there to say to that but -Â Â
You: Iâm coming over
Itâs a short walk to Mingyuâs room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesnât take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you canât stop stalking. Mingyuâs shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you werenât already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge.Â
âThat was fast,â he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. âDid you run down the hall?âÂ
âI thought I told you to shut up,â you shoot back.Â
âAnd I thought I told you to make me,â he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, heâs kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands.Â
Itâs rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyuâs definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and youâre certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.
He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if heâs needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin thatâs exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss youâve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu.Â
Itâs delicious. Itâs amazing. Itâs every superlative you can think of. But itâs not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because youâre here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isnât about to quit kissing him any time soon.Â
Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now itâs like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like youâre lighter than air. Youâd swoon if you werenât so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off
He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and youâve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it?Â
âStop me if Iâm going too fast,â he says between kisses.Â
âYou can go as fast as you want,â you reply, without even a secondâs pause. âJust donât stop.âÂ
âDamn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,â he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. âItâs okay, I like how needy you are for me.â
âShut up,â you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close.Â
Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. Itâs a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.
But again, you want more. You want what heâd promised earlier. Â
He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. â
âGyu, please!â
âPlease what?âÂ
He doesnât lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know youâll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment.Â
Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever heâs willing to give, youâll take. Youâre feeling greedy as fuck right now.Â
âI want what you promised me.âÂ
âHold on,â he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. âLet a man at deathâs door enjoy his last moments.âÂ
âOh my god, youâre so stupid,â you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. Heâs just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than youâve ever wanted anything in your life.
âFine,â he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. âTime for my last meal.âÂ
He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so heâs lying on the bed on his back and youâre straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since youâd been dressed for bed, you hadnât bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyuâs expression, you made the right call. Â
âPretty,â he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. Itâs clear to you now just how eager Mingyuâs been since you walked in. He wasnât lying - he wants you just as much as you want him.Â
With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can.Â
âYou drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.âÂ
Mingyuâs words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. âOh fuck, youâre so wet.â Â
âYour fault,â you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips.Â
âThen allow me to make it up to you,â he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. Youâre going to lose your mind before you even get to his face.Â
Youâre not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. âGet up here, please,â he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.
Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyuâs big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only itâs so much better than youâd ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like heâs the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like heâs trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel.Â
âNice knowing you, âGyu.âÂ
He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You donât settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire thatâs building inside you, spurred on by the way heâs brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want.Â
ââGyu,â you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation.Â
When you try to shift again, heâs quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - heâs in charge now.Â
âStay still, pretty,â he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. âDonât worry, Iâll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?âÂ
With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.
ââGyu, oh, thatâs so good!â Â
Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like heâs agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat.Â
Youâre not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes.Â
As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.
ââGyuâŠâ Mingyuâs mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. âOh my god.âÂ
âMmmmphf,â Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyuâs hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you.Â
The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyuâs hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck.Â
If you were more limber, youâd reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you canât stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyuâs tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. Itâs too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly.Â
You canât stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyuâs tongue. Even in your daze, it doesnât escape your attention that Mingyuâs absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord thatâs building inside you to a crescendo.Â
ââGyu, please.âÂ
At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around.Â
When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyuâs head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. âYou okay?âÂ
âFuck, Mingyu, âm good,â you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. âIâm having an amazing night.âÂ
Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.
âYeah, me too,â he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, youâd confess something right now, something you werenât planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.
Mingyu folds you in half easily, because youâre giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, heâs able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you.Â
His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft âPlease,â and thatâs all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you canât keep bucking your hips up.Â
âI said, stay still,â he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows heâs frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements.Â
Your whine is beyond petulant. âDonât tease me!âÂ
âPretty, I promise you, when I tease you, youâll know.âÂ
And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids.Â
âItâll be something like this.âÂ
He withdraws his hand.
âGyuuuuuu.â
If he was slightly cocky earlier, heâs fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. âWow, so whiny. You do want me bad.âÂ
âI swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-â
You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that heâs close to being satiated, because youâre teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over.Â
âMingyu. Mingyu, Iâm gonna cum.â You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, thatâs it - âOh god, Iâm gonna cum!âÂ
Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesnât stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you.Â
Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. Heâs the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again.Â
âKiss me.âÂ
He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.
The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound youâve ever heard.
âCareful, pretty,â he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. ââM close.âÂ
âWanna make you come, âGyu,â you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip.Â
âFuck.â His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. âBut Iâm gonna make a mess.â
âDo it. Make a mess.â The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things youâve never said to anyone else. âCome all over me.âÂ
Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. Heâs barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands.Â
âPretty⊠donât say thatâŠ.â
âPlease, âGyu.â All shame has fled your body. âI want it.âÂ
No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before heâs painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.
When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture?Â
âWow,â he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. âYouâre even prettier when youâre covered in me.âÂ
His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. ââGyuuuuu!â
âChanged my mind, Iâm calling you âwhiny' from now on.â The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. âLet me.â Â
His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When youâre both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. âThink you can sleep now?âÂ
Oh, you can sleep. Youâre feeling satiated in a way you havenât for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.
Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. âYeah. But I donât want to.âÂ
âOh?â Mingyuâs smile mirrors yours. âWhat do you wanna do instead?âÂ
âI might have some ideas.âÂ
He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.
âTell me what you want, pre-â
A sharp rap on the door startles you both.
âDude, donât you dare!â Minghao hisses through the wood. âWeâve been out here forever!âÂ
If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. đ
© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.
#seventeen smut#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#mingyu#mingyu smut#svt smut#mingyu x reader#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#svt imagines#svt scenarios#svt fanfic#seventeen fanfic#kim mingyu#fic: cross my heart
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Insatiable [L.H.]
Pairing: Logan Howlett x female!reader
Summary: Down in the void, where you can find all sorts of dangerous things, you didnât expect a flower that makes you horny to be your biggest problem. Luckily, Logan is there to fuck that overwhelming feeling out of you.
Warnings: smut 18+, unprotected piv sex, oral (f receiving), spitting and hair pulling (reader pulls Loganâs hair) but just for a split second </3, dub con because of sex pollen but they want each other either way, Logan calls reader baby and good girl during sex, mention of masturbation (f), Wade watches them fuck technically without consent but itâs not mentioned until the end and itâs more of a joke, set during Deadpool & Wolverine but no major spoilers I just used a different gif because Logan is annoyed at Wade in every single one from that film lmao, Wade being Wade, Logan is taller than the reader, age gap implied (well actually itâs not implied but Iâm telling you Loganâs older lmao), all porn no plot
Word Count: 3.4k
first Logan fic đ€ pls be nice <333Â
Ëâź*â§*ËâË*â§
It shouldnât shock you that the void is full of weird things â you came here with a mutant and a ⊠well, whatever the fuck Wade is, after all. Yet, youâre still surprised when, on your way back from finding some bushes to pee in, you end up tripping over something and getting addicted to the smell of some glowing plant.Â
The flower is bright pink and smells like your favourite perfume. Youâre on all fours at this point, your face buried in the bud as you inhale its sweet, sweet scent.Â
âWhat is she doing?â Logan asks from afar, an eyebrow raised in confusion.Â
âYoga?â Wade offers. Logan throws him a look â not helpful.Â
Logan makes his way to you; the closer he gets the brighter the plant glows. This canât be good. He calls your name when he gets to you but youâre in a trance, you donât even seem to hear Logan. Youâre humming â no, moaning?â to yourself, arching your back and lowering yourself to your forearms.Â
He pulls you up by your arm and almost flinches at your sudden outburst. âLet me go!â You shout, hitting his chest, and when you look up at him your pupils are so large Logan isnât sure itâs really still you in there.Â
You go to slap Logan so you can get back down but his hand slides down your arm to hold your wrist, his other hand at your waist to keep you in place.Â
âLook at me,â Logan orders and, oh youâre looking at him.Â
The smell the plant was giving off wasnât your favourite perfume at all, you realise, it was the smell of Logan. A hint of his aftershave, a little bit of sweat, and all that manly musk. You realise you need him right now.Â
You involuntarily arch your back to get closer to him, your chest against the hard of his suit. Heâs looking down at you, a mixture of worry and confusion. You reach up to claw at Loganâs collar but he easily holds you off.Â
âYou okay, bub? What was that?â He looks down to kick at the plant and as it breaks off at the stem the plant gives off a last shake of glittery dust, grows grey, and then dies. You slowly turn your head from the floor to Loganâs face â heâs wearily awaiting your next move.Â
âIâm not okay, Logan. I need you right now,â you pull at his collar once more but he has you in a tight grip at the waist â which does nothing but turn you on more.Â
âWade! Come here,â Logan calls, and you see a flicker of red in your periphery coming towards you, but you donât take your eyes off the man in front of you.Â
When you stand still for a few seconds, thatâs when the ache really hits you. You clench around nothing and youâre suddenly aware of how wet you are. Youâve never needed to come so badly in your life, but Loganâs got you held firmly in place, no matter how much you squirm.Â
Wade sees the plant immediately, even greyed out and dead, âWhatâs this?â He walks towards it.Â
Logan grabs Wadeâs arm. âDonât,â he grits.
With only one of his arms on you, you take the chance to reach up at Loganâs face, try to kiss him, but his hand is back on you before you can even get on your tiptoes. You let out a pained moan and both their heads snap towards you.Â
âShe was smelling that flower. Now sheâs..â Logan looks down at you, which intensifies your need, but heâs careful of what to say. You only met a few days ago and he doesnât want to humiliate you, doesnât know how deep down the real you is by now.Â
âHorny?â Wade asks, looking at you, âHoly shit, girl, look at your eyes. See, a woman after my own heart. Thatâs exactly how I look at Logan tooââ
âWade!â Logan shouts, jaw clenching, âWe need to get her somewhere safe.â
âDonât need anywhere safe. Need you,â you mumble, attempting to free yourself from Loganâs grip. Heâs so effortlessly strong it makes your mouth water and the place between your thighs even wetter.Â
Wade bends down, careful not to get too close to the plant, assessing it. âEasy. Itâs sex pollen.â
âWhat the fuck is that?â Logan half-shouts.
âHave you never read fanfiction? It makes you crazy horny until youâre fucked by the person youâre into the most,â Wade explains, then sighs, looking at you, âSad that itâs not me, sugarcakes, Iâll be honest.âÂ
You ignore him, still attempting to get out of Loganâs grasp to climb him like a tree.
Logan groans at Wade, âDo you ever shut the fuck up?â
âNo, have you met me?â
Suddenly youâre lifted off the ground and Logan slings you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing at all. His arm grips you just below your ass, and it makes you clench your thighs together, trying to get any type of friction. You attempt to get down but his arm only tightens around your legs and even though your entire upper body is free, hanging off the back of him, youâre helpless.Â
-
You squirm and wriggle and moan but all to no avail. Loganâs ignoring you. You feel your underwear getting wetter with his every step and breath and movement, and youâre sure he must be able to smell you at this point.Â
Your arousal has turned into nothing other than a pulsing pain and you feel tears springing to your eyes with your sexual frustration. You mumble Loganâs name but youâre too weak to really say anything, too weak to even try and get out of his grasp anymore.
A shadow is cast over you and you see the sand under you turn into a solid floor. Suddenly youâre being lifted back up and Logan sits you on top of a table. Youâre in a⊠diner? You donât really care, filled with a new energy as you see Logan towering over you, concern written on his face â concern youâre ready to turn into lust.
You sit up with force, ready to pounce on him, but he pins you back to the tabletop immediately, his big arms holding your wrists down.
âDonât wanna do that, sweetheart,â â the nickname makes you moan right in his face, hips trying to arch up but heâs too far â âWeâre gonna need you to calm down, okay? And weâre gonna wait it out.â
âNo,â you begin to shake your head quickly, giving Logan your best puppy eyes, âI canât wait. Need to cum. Iâm so wet, Logan. Please.â
âAs much as I wish it wasnât, thatâs my cue to leave,â Wade waves, whispering, âI hope you think of me when you comeâ (youâre not sure if heâs saying it to you or to Logan) and walks out the door.
Logan is distracted for a second, watching Wade leave, and you yank your hand out of his grasp to unzip the front of your suit and push a hand into your underwear. You cry out when you finally get to touch your clit, puffy and wet all over, and for a second Logan canât keep his eyes off your panties. His gaze lands on your tits almost spilling out of your bra from all the movement and then he takes hold of your wrist once again.
âIâm gonna leave and then you can touch yourself all you want, hm? That sound like a plan?â Logan says, voice quiet and hoarse and all you can do is shake your head at him.
ââS not gonna be enough. Need you. Please,â you moan again, and you see him clench his jaw in restraint.
âI canât, you know I canât. Donât know if youâd want this otherwise. Wouldnât be right of me.â
You somehow manage to yank his hand down with yours and shove it into your panties.
âDoes this feel like I donât want you, Logan? Youâre all I want. Been making myself come every day since I met you wishing it was you instead.â
âYou donât know what youâre saying, baby, donât know what youâre asking for,â Loganâs voice is strained. His thumb starts rubbing your clit instinctively, as if he canât control himself. He moves slightly to get a better angle and you see the bulge pressing against his pants. Heâs so big you moan out his name loud enough to echo through the building.
âKnow exactly what Iâm asking for. Please, Logan. Itâs not gonna stop until you make me come. Iâm begging you.â He looks at you with uncertainty. Then heâs pulling your arms out of your suit and ripping the rest down your legs.
âIâm gonna make you come, okay? Iâll eat your pussy as many times as you need me to. That alright?â He kneels in front of you and pulls you to the edge of the table.Â
You want to ask him to fuck you but all you can manage to say right now is to let out a whiny âMhmmm.â
Logan wastes no time taking one of your thighs over his shoulder and pulling your soaked panties to the side. He looks ready to surrender and give you what you really need but he stays firmly in his place.
âLook what a mess youâve made, baby. Such a pretty fucking pussy. Iâll make you feel better, okay? âM gonna make you come.âÂ
Without another word his tongue is on you, licking broadly over your clit and then sucking as much as he can into his mouth. You arch your back and press your hips into his face. His hands come to the top of your thighs to hold you down, palms hot against your skin.Â
âFeel good?â He mumbles against your pussy and you sit up on your elbows.Â
âSo fucking good, Logan. Donât stop. Please,â you whimper as you look at his face buried in your pussy. He licks into you, nose pressed against your clit and you canât help but buck your hips.Â
âLook how sweet you are, saying please every time. Such a good girl.â Heâs inhaling you hungrily now, sloppy in his movements from how turned on he is but itâs not stopping you from feeling good.Â
You just need friction. And heâs giving you that, but then heâs licking all the way up from your pussy over your clit, through your pubic hair and up to your belly button â just to tease you. He smirks up at you and you push his head back down; he happily obliges, but not before reaching out one of his big strong hands to settle on your breast, thumb hooking under the top of your bra to play with your nipple.Â
âTaste so fucking good, baby. Canât get enough,â he breathes as he begins to suck on your clit and starts moaning himself.Â
It occurs to you then that the pollen in your arousal or in your sweat might be making him lose his mind too. With the way heâs almost painfully squeezing your thigh with one hand and your boob with the other, youâre sure.
Logan groans with a mouthful of you between his lips, your sensitive clit swollen against his tongue. He moans something into you that you canât understand, but the vibration of his voice pushes you close to the edge.
âFuck, gonna come,â you whimper loudly, your hips chasing his face.
You finally tip over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you with an intensity youâve never experienced before.
But itâs over as fast as it started.
You push your hand between your legs to relieve the ache again but you know it wonât be enough. Logan stands up and wipes his mouth, glistening with your arousal. âYâneed me again?â
You shake your head as you squirm without his presence between your thighs. âPlease fuck me, Logan. I canât take it anymore, need you inside me.â As you say it you clench around nothing, the pulsing between your legs insatiable. You start fucking yourself with your fingers, but itâs not nearly enough â you need something bigger, much bigger, and you have a feeling he can provide that.
The pollen seems to take over for Logan as well, and he finally stops arguing. He pulls off his suit and you silently curse him for not doing that earlier. Seeing those muscles is providing more relief than your fingers inside you. You feel like you could come just from the sight of his big, hard cock alone. Itâs exactly what you need.
You slip out of your bra thatâs almost sticking to your skin with how hot you feel and Logan roughly rips your panties down your legs.
âYou really want this?â He asks as he steps between your thighs, jerking off and rubbing the tip against your clit.
âMmhm yesyes, need you so badly. Please Loââ you both gasp when he fills your pussy at once. Itâs a feeling that brings you close to orgasm immediately and makes you grab him to pull him closer. Logan momentarily slips out of you again to crawl onto the table, pull you across it and wrap your legs around his hips.
âSo fucking hard for you,â he mumbles as he pushes back into your slick pussy. Youâre both mesmerised by the sight of him starting to fuck into you, your pussy stretching around him with what is the best feeling youâve ever had. It burns because heâs so big, but itâs a good type of pain.
You grab the hair at the back of his head for support, and he moans at your grip. It angles his face towards yours and you look into each otherâs eyes for a split second before his mouth finds yours. Youâre biting and licking at his lips and he growls back against you, holding your lower lip down to spit into your mouth, his animalistic nature taking over.
His hips rut against yours faster as your kiss gets more desperate. You lean your head back in pleasure, hitting the table, but you barely register the pain. Distracted by how good his big cock feels so deep in your pussy you donât even notice his hand coming up under your head to cushion it.
âThere you go,â he whispers, looking down at you. Your eyes meet and for a second you smile at his care. You tip your head right back down into his hand when he starts kissing down your neck, his free hand pushing up one of your tits to wrap his lips around the nipple.Â
The way he runs his tongue over your nipple has you moaning and grabbing onto his hair once more. You need to feel the heat of his body so you wrap your arm around the back of his shoulders until heâs desperately fucking into you with your chests pressed together.
It should be too warm with the way your bodies are intertwined but Logan looks down to lick the sweat on your neck right up and sucks on the skin there right after. The added stimulation makes your hips buck up and Logan sneaks a hand back to your clit, messily rubbing until he has you coming again and youâre both moaning at how hard your pussy clenches around him.
You think for a second that Loganâs going to come with you but he manages to resist the temptation, biting into your shoulder instead. But that second in which it almost felt like he was coming was the calmest youâve felt in hours at this point. You realise that maybe itâs him who needs to come for you to feel better. But youâre too horny to say any proper words to explain it to him.
Logan pushes himself up to look at your face but he doesnât have to ask if you still need more. Your pupils are as wide as before.
âPussyâs still so hungry for me, baby, hm? So fucking desperate,â he repositions your hips and starts fucking into you at a different angle, your wet pussy so loud against him. This time you feel his dick pushing against your g-spot and he has you gasping at the new sensation, pulling you by the hips to aid his thrusts.
âP-Please come inside me, Logâ uh-Logan,â you manage to say.
Logan looks down at you and places a hand under your ass, squeezing you there, âBaby, I got stamina for the entire night. Not stopping til youâre satisfied.â
âJust do it, need youâ, is all you can get out as he continues to rut his hips against yours. Â
âAlright. I got you, baby, I got you,â he rasps, making sure to hit your g-spot over and over until youâre arching your back, biting into his bicep thatâs propped next to your face, to deal with the amount of pleasure coursing through you.
A gasp turns into an orgasm and as soon as you clench around Logan he lets go too. âGod, baby, so fucking tight for me. Such a good girl. Gonna comeââ
You hold onto Logan tightly, your arms wrapped around his neck as he fucks into you, filling you with ropes and ropes of his cum as you keep clenching around his big cock. You can feel him so deeply in you that your most primal urges are finally starting to calm down and you feel the last waves of pleasure flow through you as he comes his final drops.
Logan drops onto his elbows that are positioned next to your head, and, instinctively, you take his face to kiss him. He kisses you back so intensely that you donât even have to consider whether he still wanted to kiss you now that the sex is over.
âYou okay?â He asks when you let go of his lips.
âYeah,â you nod, noticing that the ache is finally, finally gone now that youâve both come together, âthank you, Logan.â
âMy pleasure,â he smirks and places a more innocent kiss on your mouth. You untangle yourselves from each other in slow movements, unsure what places youâre sweating from and need to clean up.
-
âDo you regret it?â Logan asks you a few minutes later, cleaned up and clothed, with his arm around your waist to support you â you can barely stand â as you go outside to look for Wade.
âNo. But thanks for making sure so many times⊠Do you regret it?â
Loganâs smile tells you everything you need to know but he still tells you, âNot one bit.â
You smile but then become more serious. âSorry that you had to experience that,â you mumble.
âWhat do you mean? Youâre apologising for that?â
âDidnât you feel the pain too? I thought the effect of the pollen might have somehow been contagious.â
He almost looks bashful when he looks down at you, âNo, you just turn me on like fucking crazy.â
You smile down at the floor until you see a shadow. Wade comes around the corner of the diner.Â
You draw your eyebrows together. âYouâre telling me you actually left?â
âThereâs no way you didnât stay to watch us,â Logan adds.
âNo, of course I stayed but I came ages ago. I was forced to be with my own thoughts while you kept going⊠and going.â
Logan rolls his eyes as Wade walks on, âWhat do you think, weââ
âAnd goingâŠâ
âWade.â Logan warns, turning to you again, âHow about we get this shit done with Wade and then go to your place and do this all over again?â
You giggle, âI like the sound of that.â
â.ïœĄ.:*support a writer and reblog and comment if you enjoyed, I appreciate it a lot <333.ïœĄ.:*ïżœïżœïżœ
#Logan Howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#deadpool and wolverine#Logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#wolverine smut#Logan howlett smut#logan howlett#wolverine#deadpool and wolverine fic#sex pollen#logan howlett sex pollen#wolverine sex pollen#going to watch the film again as i post this đ€hope tumblr works lol#fem!reader#selfcarecap
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just thinking about sylus⊠being lovey dovey with mc
CHARACTERS: sylus x f!reader (reader is the mc!)
CONTENT WARNINGS: unprotected sex + penetration sex + p in v + sylus calling the reader 'princess' 'baby' 'good girl' like once
NOTES FROM NIS: hi!! it's me again this time with another drabble written for sylus!! pls enjoy my thirst drabble for him sigh he's such a good husband material... reblogs, likes are very much appreciated!! anyway, if you're interested, please check out my haikyuu fic featuring iwaizumi hajime <333 u can check the fic out in my pinned post (for some reason, i can't paste the url here good lord why!!)
his larger frame hovering above you. both of you panting and moaning in sync, your lewd noises, mixed with the sound of his heavy balls slamming against your flesh filling the four walls of his spacious and luxurious bedroom.
sylusâs much larger hands pining your hands above of your hand, binding them with a tight grip. his expression showed that he was on edge of coming, not with your cunt squeezing his cock like a vice grip. fuck your pussy is driving him insane.
the 6â5 foot man inhaled the sight in front of him. your naked body on display, tits bouncing to each thrust he was giving you. your eyes shut closed, cute moans and whimpers spilling out of your lips every second of his cock fucking your insides. âwhat a fucking treat, sylus murmured under his breath. âsuch a beautiful girl for me, princess.â
slowly, he leaned down, minty breath fanning over your luscious lips. âopen your eyes, princess. look at how tight your pussy is squeezing my cock, hm?â he removed one of his hands from binding your hand and down to squeeze your cheeks using his hand.
when you didnât comply the first time, sylus again squeezed your cheeks harder this time. you knew better than to ignore him and his commands. slowly, you opened your eyes and saw his crazy gorgeous and sculpted face â a pair of crimson red eyes staring straight into your eyes. in a flicker of second, you saw his gaze softened when both of you locked eyes.
sylusâs grunt broke the momentary silence. the butterflies swirled in your tummy every time you have heard his sexy grunts. âfuck. youâre so fucking beautiful, baby,â he whispered against your lips before he inched closer to kiss you on the lips.
your back arched when his cock nudged into your sensitive spot, and you accidentally moaned into his mouth. the current position â your tits pressed against his front, his cock nestled deeper into your pussy, seemed so intimate. sylus wanted to be as close as he could to you.
âmhm, sylus, keep going, please,â you whined when he slowed down his pace as he whispered sweet nothings into your ears.
sylus groaned into your mouth, leaving one more deep kiss before he got up. the warmth of having his chest pressed close to you dissipated.
spreading your legs using his knees wider, sylus rammed his cock inside you. this time, faster and harder. your breath couldnât keep up anymore so screams started taking over your moans.
sylus is such an attentive lover he would never say no to you. only if under some circumstances. other than that, heâs obliging whatever your request is.
his groans lulled your ears each time his cock hit your g-spot. you exchanged looks with him before glancing over where your bodies were connected. creamy white liquid coating his cock and onto your pussy. shit. you were so close to an overwhelming orgasm.
âfuck, sylus make me come please!â your voice a pitch higher before a cry followed afterwards.
sylus again leaned down and took a nipple in his mouth, biting on it before swirling it as if he was savouring the sweet taste. his cock still mercilessly ramming into you. his eyebrows twitched as your pussy squeezed him tighter. he was so close and so did you.
you felt that one tight knot swirling inside you, each second closer to an orgasm. it crashed hard and fast, just like how sylus was giving it to you. your breath stuttered, and you got instant chills from how hard and shattering the orgasm was.
sylusâs cum filling your insides, some of it seeping out. he was breathing heavily as he stared at you. âfuck, youâre so fucking beautiful that it hurts,â he whispered again before kissing you sweetly. his fingers caressing your face lovingly. you whined when his skin lightly brushed against your clit. it was so fucking sensitive.
âand you are so fucking handsome that it kills me to get jealous every time girls stare at you,â you muttered while giggling against his lips.
âi only have my eyes on you, sweetheart. no one else,â sylusâs loving gaze locked with yours as he made this promise with you for the nth time. he then placed your palm against his chest, squeezing it with his fingers.
you smiled lovingly and sylus fell in love with you all over again. heâs smitten and crazy in love with you but he doesnât give a flying fuck over how cringe he sounds. heâs in love with you and he fucking loves you. heâd do everything for you and you only.
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace smut#lads x reader#lads smut#love and deepspace sylus#lnds smut#lnds x reader#lads sylus#lnds sylus#sylus x reader#sylus smut
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did you see that video of tom holland pushing the paparazzi off zendaya? Yeah I thinking about something similar but with Charles Leclerc x famous!reader
something short and sweet bc i'm not posting a new fic this week but i hope you enjoy it!
The flash of cameras was something you were used to, but tonight felt different. As you stepped out of the car at the prestigious event, Charles' hand firmly in yours, the crowd of paparazzi seemed more aggressive than usual. The combination of an A-list actress and a Formula 1 star had created a media frenzy.
"YN! Over here!" "Charles! This way!" "Are you two official?" "YN, how does it feel dating a racing driver?" "Charles, what's it like dating a Hollywood star?"
The shouting was overwhelming, and despite your years of experience handling red carpets, you felt yourself tense as the photographers pressed closer, their cameras mere inches from your face.
"Stay close to me," Charles murmured, his thumb stroking reassuringly over your knuckles.
"I'm used to this," you whispered back, trying to maintain your composed smile.
"I know, but this is crazy even for me."
You felt Charles' grip on your hand tighten protectively as one particularly aggressive photographer pushed forward, nearly causing you to stumble in your heels.
"Watch it!" Charles snapped, his accent thickening with anger as he steadied you. In an instant, his demeanor changed from polite to protective. He moved swiftly, positioning himself between you and the crowd.
"Back off," he said firmly. "I said back off! You're being too aggressive."
His arm wrapped securely around your waist, creating a barrier between you and the chaos. "That's enough. We'll pose for photos, but give us space."
"Charles, it's okay," you tried to soothe him, though you appreciated his protection.
"No, it's not okay," he responded, his jaw clenched. "They don't get to push you around just because you're a public figure."
The authority in his voice made several photographers take a step back. You could feel the tenseness in his body as he guided you through the crowd.
"Almost there," he assured you quietly. "Just a few more steps."
"YN! One more shot!" "Charles! Look this way!" "Are you living together?"
"Just ignore them," you whispered to Charles, sensing his growing irritation.
As you finally reached the relative safety of the venue's entrance, Charles's posture relaxed slightly, but his protective hold remained. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, completely ignoring the renewed frenzy of camera flashes the gesture triggered.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, his green eyes scanning your face with concern. "I've never seen them this aggressive."
"I'm fine," you assured him, straightening his tie affectionately. "I'm used to it, remember? Though I have to admit, having my own personal bodyguard is nice."
He smiled softly, but his eyes remained serious. "Nobody gets to treat you like that," he said, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "Not even if they have cameras. I don't care if it's part of the job."
"My hero," you teased, trying to lighten his mood.
"I'm serious, mon coeur. I know this comes with both our careers, but there's a line."
In that moment, despite the chaos around you, you couldn't help but smile. You'd dealt with aggressive paparazzi before, but having someone who instinctively moved to protect you, who prioritized your comfort over the perfect photo op - that was new.
"Thank you," you said softly, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "For having my back."
"Always," he promised, taking your hand again. "Ready to go face the slightly more civilized cameras inside?"
You laughed, squeezing his hand. "Lead the way, Leclerc."
#charles leclerc au#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc fake instagram#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#formula one#charles leclerc fanfiction#harrysfolklore#f1 x reader#f1 grid x reader#cl16 x reader#cl16 fanfic
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eeee but ok what about a make out sesh with sugu that ends with him begging to finger you >.<
ౚৠâ please?! êš geto suguru
sypnosis: inexperienced college students you ând suguru with a mischievous pact
content warnings đ đ vunerable virgin reader, no p in v, soft, messy, fingering, making out, praiseee, he cums from rubbin himself, light oral (f rec.), pet names : baby, honey doll !! !
an ⥠. . this ask omg anon u are genius . dis is absolutely so cute and ugggghhhhhh m melting <3 literally love u . i love dis ask a lot so this is a bit longer than my usual drabbles , so im makin it a fic :D enjoyyyyyy loviessss
itâs hot , sloppy , messy.
bodies pressed against each others as your guyâs lips clash feverently against each others , sloppy noises elicited from you twoâs âpractice.â
it was never supposed to go so far. it started from something so innocent yet so dirty , the two of you prompting to practice making out with eachother; every friday and saturday night in the comfort of his private dorm.
nights usually started off awkward, with you at the front of his doorstep nervously knocking at his door. he was intimidating, tall, and so handsome; everything youâd consider perfect. it made you want to shrivel and hide.
your first couple sessions consisted of awkward touches, usually his fingers hovering above your warm skin with a light shiver , staring into you for any affirmation to touch you.
âis it okay? âm not gonna do anythinâ weird.â
making out with him was sloppy and messy, rhythmless and random. neither of you would stop the other unless one had run out of breath , but that was the fun of it; you suppose.
âd-do you wanna keep goinâ?â he pants, face awfully close to yours, not sparing another breath when you mindlessly nod. in a blink, his swollen lips are clad against yours once again.
this time , it had been no different. it had been 3 weeks after your set arrangements , and nothing had seemingly been different.
right ?
so why did it feel so much more intimate ? you try to speculate , but the manâs mouth occupies all of you. geto makes you feel so fuzzy, your body, your mind, incapable of a single coherent thought in the heat of the moment.
he wastes no time pressing your body into the soft of the mattress with his own, hand pursed into the soft pillow with intertwined fingers.
you gasp into his mouth , waiting for the moment he allows you time for a quick breather, but it never comes. instead he refuses to detach himself from you as you grow lightheaded.
âs-suguru hahâ ,whatâs wrong with you?â
âbaby , i need yâso bad. i cant . . â
your brow arches in confusion , but all becoming much clearer when you feel his frigid fingers dance on the band of your skimpy shorts.
âw-waitââ
âyâgonna let me touch you here?â he teases, his thumb pressing up on your clit through your shorts, right above the wet patch of your sticky cum.
âeeek â hold on, sugu !â
âplease ? let me finger you baby . wâna make you feel good sâbad.â
you whimper at his offer, overwhelmed by the suddenness of his question. it had never gone this far, you had never expected it to. to say that you hoped it would happen was an understatement; you dreamt of this. truly.
his soft hands run over your soft skin, chubby lips pressing breathy kisses all over your face and neck, and overly desperate bulge lazily humping into the fat of your panty-clad pussy. itâs all too much.
âlet me feel you , honey, câmon.â he rushes, smirking into your skin with a soft kiss to your collarbone.
âo-okay, suguru !â you blurt .
heâs sighs in relief, hands wasting no time to tug off your shorts along side your panties. your sweet cunt radiates a soft heat heâs able to feel against the palm of his hand, chuckling as he watches your cunt pulse around nothing.
heâs obsessed, and he thinks it may be love . he finds himself unable to pull his eyes away from the gorgeous sight, pupils in the shape of hearts as he watches your puffy hole uncontrollably drool with pearlescent slick.
âs-stop starinâ suguââ you mumble, quickly bringing a hand down to cover yourself from his roaming eyes. youâre quickly stopped by his hand, never holding a chance in the first place.
âyouâve never done this before ?â
âobviously not! â your eyes are shut tight, tears pricking at the corners and damping your lashes. youâre obviously embarrassed, and he wouldnât have you any other way. this is perfect.
he says nothing but chuckles, flinching when you unexpectedly feel his lips against yours, one that slowly converts into something much more sensual.
you feel the pad of his thumb slide against your sticky cunt, merely pressing the tip inside to tease you. he swallows up your yelp, feeling him smile against your lips.
his pushes in half a digit, followed with short but rhythmic pumps. your cunt squelches and squeezes around him, allowing sweet honeyed moans to fall upon your lips.
âyâfeel so good, feels so good doll. canât believe y-youâve been hidinâ this from me.â he groans.
âyouâre so evil baby .â
âff-feels sâgood too, hnnââ
he curls his finger, purposely nudging against your spongy walls. you squeak, pressing against his wrists to rid his movements on your sensitive pussy.
ân-not there !â
âbe still baby. let me have this, âs my first time too, okay?â
âw-waitââ
he kisses you again, silencing your whines. he gains speed in his movements , his free hand coming down to relief some tension for his own cock, which had been painfully strained against his boxers.
heâs sure you see him do the filthy act when your face flushes , eyes unable to meet his own as you canât help but stare, trying your best to look away.
âyâr still so shy when my fingerâs inside this pussy?â
âd-donât say that !â
you whine. your back arches when he slips another finger in besides his first , the girth and length of both digits filling you like no other could. youâd imagine what his cock would feel like in comparison to this, but you canât.
âd-dizzy, suguruâ âm gonna cum, iâ canât !â
âcum doll, please, cum fâme, need it so bad..â he whines, feverently jerking at his cock as his eyes zero in on your lewd expression.
he pants with relief when he feels your cunt convulse around his slim digits, a sticky, creamy essence that coats his fingers. he pulls himself away from the mess, smearing a bit on the soft of your thigh before pressing a unmatched kiss onto your lips.
your mess coats the fat folds of your cunt, sweet pearly clit puffy and swollen, just oh, so desperate to be loved. he can tell. he leans down in between your legs before you take notice, pressing a harsh kiss against your slippery bud. one hard enough that youâre unable to push his head away with all your might, forced to lay still below him as he gently suckles on your clit and sneakily licks at your creamy mess.
he raises his head with a proud snarky grin, only to be met with a flick on the forehead and a light scolding.
he sighs, squirming uncomfortably at the noted mess in his boxers. not a word is exchanged between the two of you, only light pants that reverberate around the small of his dorm room.
âw-wanna go further ?â
#jjk#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#suguru geto smut#geto suguru smut#getou x reader#jjk getou#getou suguru#geto smut#getou suguru x reader#geto x reader#geto suguru#geto x you#geto x y/n#getou smut#getou suguru x y/n#fanfictionâȘâŹâ«
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Out of Sunshine
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: Having forgotten your dinner date, Spencer comforts his usually sunshine girlfriend Trope:Fluff & Comfort w.c: 1.2k a/n: been very overwhelmed with responsibilities and wants lately that I just needed to write a self-indulgent fic. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! đ masterlist
Spencerâs knock on your apartment door was met with silence. It was a starry Friday night and he had arranged a dinner reservation with you, his girlfriend for a year and a half, to the newly opened French restaurant along the main street. With a certain spring in his step, he settled with Hotch, and by extension the team, that he couldnât be disturbed unless an emergency case comes inâsomething he silently wished not to happen. He had also picked up a bouquet of your favorites from the local florist. An array of whites that reminded him of the dress he first saw you wearing at the park.
He knocked again, ears straining to hear anything behind the dark wooden door. There was nothing. He balanced the bouquet on one hand and reached for the phone inside his satchel. It was quite unlike you to not answer the door.
The number you dialed is either unattendedâ
âStrange,â he muttered under his breath. During his morning phone call with you, a much needed routine to tide him through the macabre of his job, you sounded so excited about the dinner heâd planned and had even promised to wear the same white dress that had plagued his eidetic memory. He chuckled in reply before asking any plans for the day. There was a slight pause on your end, no doubt thinking of ways to pass time before night winds down, and you answerâ
The studio, he remembered. You mentioned passing by your art studio to occupy time. He sighed in relief as he enters his vintage blue car parked on the the sidewalk, bouquet placed securely on the passenger seat. The clock on the dashboard tells him thereâs still time to make it to the reservation, granted he wasnât sure if you were ready to go.
A non-descriptive tune played from the radio as he turned left to enter the designated parking space of your studio building. It was a mixture of soft piano keys that sounded like spring and sunshine, both adjectives he loved to use to describe you.
When he finally found the courage to fumble his way in asking for your number, the smile that flashed on your face was blinding. It was as if he stared directly into the sun with little to no protection for his vision.
Over the course of multiple dates, he found himself waxing prose about you in his head. The pinking of your cheeks reminded him of strawberries ripening, so tempting to touch with his own pair of lips. The twinkle in your eyes, full of adoration and trust, made him feel strong and protectiveâlike he was some kind of crow guarding his loot of sparkling treasure. And the bounce in your step wherever youâd go had him envisioning a sprig of wildflowers growing from each footprint, the nymph of his very own Spring.
He let himself in the studio, grateful youâve trusted him with a spare key. âSunshine,â he called out.
The light inside the four cornered room was on, windows all open for the paint fumes to escape, and there you were, hunched over an easel, furiously painting without any care of your surroundings.
He called your name, softer this time, as if to slowly ease you out of the artistic trance. The timber of his voice and his sudden presence led you to squeak in surprise, paintbrush dropping on the wooden streaked floor.
âItâs me, sunshine,â he raised his hands in front of him in surrender. âItâs me.â
Your nose scrunched up in question, a streak of blue dried paint on your cheek, adorable. How adorable you were in his eyes.
âWhat are you doing here?â you bent down to grab the brush before resuming your old position.
âItâs 7:50, love.â
You swiveled to face him, eyes wide in distress. Hands promptly reaching to turn over the faced down phone. âNo, noâoh my god, I am so sorry!â
âItâs alright,â he tries to placate you but his words of comfort seem to fall on deaf ears. âReally, itâs alright. It happens to everyone.â
Tears were starting to build up in your eyes. Your hands were wrangling with the apron tied around your waist as you mutter a series of apologies again and again. âIâm sorry. So sorryâwe canât make it to our reservation now, canât we? Spence, Iâm so so sorry. IâI forgot,â a sob escaped from your throat. âI donât know what to do.â
He puts down the flowers on the nearest available space, your stool, and steps into your space. Filling it with his perfume and warmth meant to comfort you. He could see how distressed you wereârocking on your heels, hands unable to stay put, and lower lip sandwiched in between your pearly teeth.
âBreathe. Itâs completely fine, love. No harm done. Really, itâs alright.â
The tears come rushing down, staining your flushed cheeks with its tracks. âItâs notâhow could I forget?â
âSunshine, itâs okay. It happens to all of us and I know youâre quite busy, itâs understandable.â
You burrow into his chest some more, afraid of separating from him and the haven he brings.
He continued on. âI also know youâre overwhelmed, the exhibit is just around the corner and I know how important it is to you, I understand.â
Laying your cheek near his beating heart, you mutter a reply. âItâs really notâI donât want you to think youâre not important to me too.â
His hands cupped your face to stare into your saddened eyes. Spencer couldnât see the warmth and brightness that was always present in his sunshine. There was a cloud of rain and doubt covering itsâ greatness. He understood no one could always be happy all the time but it bothered him to see you breaking down from stress.
âShouldnât I be the one worried about that?â he lightly joked. âIâve cancelled on dates so many times and did those ever make you feel less important to me?â
âNo. Never,â you sniffled.
âThen what makes you say Iâd think that, sunshine? I would never, I promise.â
The corners of your lips lifted up to a small smile. There it was, the rays of sun peeking behind the clouds, bringing warmth back to the dark crevices of his being.
âIâm sorry about your shirt,â your lower lip jutting out in a pout. The air of anxiety slowly dissipating around you.
Spencer laughed, noting the tear stained marks littered on his purple button down. âThatâs alright. Why donât we order from your favorite Indian place down the block? We can get your favorites and have our dinner date here instead?â
âYouâd be okay with that?â
He leaned in to kiss your temples, taking in the twinkle back in your eyes framed by your wet long lashes and the flush on your cheeks from emotionâgood and bad.
For Spencer, you had never looked more beautiful. The reason behind of your breakdown was raw, intimate, and it made him see you in a new light. Heat bloomed in his chest, like a series of red roses, filled with love for you.
âAnywhere with you is good for me, sunshine.â
Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!
#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid comfort#criminal minds fic#spencer reid fic
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àšà§ - ride
summary: what happens when you and chris are left alone in matt's van
warnings: smut, unprotected p in v (idk why people say 'p in v' but i'll go with it), lowkey sort of in public
word count: 578
author's note: the poll results are NOT what i was expecting at all but those fics will be coming soon
author's note 2: happy thanksgiving to the other canadians if you see this â€ïž
author's note 3: vote on my hcs here! tbh i have a strong feeling which one is gonna win
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âfeels s- fuck- so good,â chris groans as he guides your hips, bouncing you up and down on his cock as whimpers and moans fly from your lips.
this wasn't meant to happen. you should not be riding your boyfriend in the backseat of his brother's car. it was wrong on so many levels but you couldn't help yourself. you, chris, nick, and matt went to pick up dinner but there was a half hour wait since it was so busy. matt and nick decided to wait inside the restaurant, leaving you and chris alone. bad idea.
what started as some innocent kisses turned into a heated, needy makeout which resulted in you sinking down on your boyfriend's cock and crying out in the confined space of the van. in the moment, you were grateful you had put a skirt on this morning. it made things much easier for the both of you.
he bucks his hips up to meet yours every time you sink down on him, driving himself deeper inside you to hit all the right spots. âchris-â you gasp out.
âdoing so good fâme, baby. yâlook so pretty riding me like this,â he says in a husky voice as he continues to guide you, helping you speed up.
the van is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, the rhythmic pattern of your skin slapping each time you make contact, chris groaning, and your moans and whimpers. every window is fogged completely from the heat of your bodies and the intensity of it all.
that warm pressure of your impending orgasm starts forming within you. âmmph, chris, m'so close,â you say with a loud moan. his hands move from your hips to your ass, squeezing the plump flesh as you take control and use his cock to get yourself off.
overwhelming waves of pleasure wash over you; your movements come to a stop as your legs begin to shake and your walls clench around chris. you bury your face in his shoulder, biting down to muffle the scream of pleasure that threatens to escape your throat.
the sounds and the sensations coming from you are all too much for chris and he follows right behind you, shooting his hot seed into you as you come to a rest on top of him.
you hold each other, slowing your rapid breaths and soothing each other for a moment, enjoying the aftermath of it all.
your head shoots up as you seem to remember exactly where you are. chris senses your slight urgency and as if he can read your mind, he lifts you off him and rummages through the center console of the car. he pulls out a wad of napkins and does his best to clean you both up.
he re-adjusts his pants while you look for your panties he had tossed to the floor. you pull them back on quickly as he exits the car to throw the napkins away. you lean forward to the driver's seat to turn the air conditioning on.
chris gets back in the car and soon the heat, fogginess, and even the smell of sex dissipate from the car. âperfect timing,â you think to yourself as you see matt and nick from afar, walking out of the restaurant with the bags of takeout. you turn the AC off, resting your head on chrisâ shoulder, both of you letting out a relieved sigh at what you just got away with.
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"Well, we're offically a family now." Normal au
this ended up being slightly to the right of pregnancy cause it's post Maisie being born but the scene just felt too cute not to lol
|| prompt list ||
prompt: "Well, we're officially a family now."
au: regular
word count: 1104
warnings: hospital mention, breastfeeding stuff, girl dad jake at full force
It was dark outside the hospital now, but Jake wasnât entirely sure what time it was. And he didnât even care. The thought made him chuckle as he sat back in the rocking chair. First time in his life he didnât know the time and didnât really know what was going to happen next â and he was completely content. He would stay right there in that moment forever if the world allowed it.
In that moment right then with his wife fast asleep and his newborn baby girl sleeping in the bassinet beside her.
Nothing else mattered besides that. Not the Navy, not flying, not his career that once seemed like the most important thing in the world. It wasnât. There were more important things.Â
Jake wiped at his face. He felt tired, the kind that made tears build at the corners of his eyes, but he didnât want to miss anything. Didnât want to miss the way that red cheeked baby looked in that hospital issue bassinet. Swaddled tight in that white blanket dotted with suns and pink little beanie on her head.
Maisie Carole Grace â already so loved.Â
The privacy curtain was drawn back gently. Nurse Taylor smiled as she looked around for who was awake, and her smile widened when she spotted Jake sitting in the rocker.Â
âHey, Mr. Seresin. Iâm gonna have to wake mama and baby up to try breastfeeding one more time.â
Jake nodded as he got to his feet. âIâll get Ronnie.âÂ
He crossed the room to the hospital bed while Taylor went around to get Maisie out of her swaddle. Jake smiled softly as he cupped Ronnieâs cheek. She had only been asleep for maybe thirty minutes, and even in sleep he could see she was exhausted. But getting Maisie to latch was important, and when they tried just a few hours ago the newborn had been stubborn, so they needed to try again.
âHey, darlinâ,â he spoke gently and she instantly stirred, nuzzling into his hand with a small noise of protest. âMâsorry, I know. But Nurse Taylorâs back.âÂ
Ronnie opened her eyes as she nodded. Brown irises rimmed red as she sat up a bit straighter. Jake retracted his hand to help get the sleep shirt they brought in the go-bag up and over her head. With Nurse Taylor, Maisie started to cry loudly at being so rudely awoken. Now unswaddled as Taylor lifted her from the bassinet. Ronnie whimpered as her breasts started to leak.Â
âAlright, here we go,â Taylor said as she placed Maisie in her motherâs arms. âAnd after this we can do some skin-to-skin time with Dad, huh?â
Jake couldnât help but get excited at the prospect. A grin stretching his features as he watched Taylor coach Ronnie through the latching process for the third time. He could tell Ronnie was starting to get frustrated, as Maisie squirmed and seemed to purposefully avoid her motherâs nipple all together. She sniffed, glancing up at Jake with tears brimming her eyes as she continued to do everything Taylor was telling her to. Except it just wasnât happening.
Placing his hand on the back of her neck, he gave it a gentle squeeze. Ronnie looked up at him just as her first tear slipped down her cheek.Â
âSâokay, take a deep breath,â he told her in a hushed whisper and she nodded.Â
She sucked in deep, her chest expanding, and then she let it out slow. Then she tried one last time, nudging her breast lightly against Maisieâs parted lips. And then the newborn latched, cries dying in her throat as she began to suckle and paw at Ronnieâs chest.Â
âOh,â Ronnie gasped, smile wide as she brushed her thumb over Maisieâs head of blonde hair. âThere you go, Maisie babe. God, that feels fuckinâ weird.â
Nurse Taylor laughed. âYeah, feels different from the pump, huh?â
Ronnie agreed with a nod. Then she looked up at Jake with that same wide grin and he smiled, all warmth and love, back at her. His girls. His loves. He leaned in close and kissed the side of Ronnieâs head as he whispered his praises.
Once Maisie had drunk her fill, Nurse Taylor took back the newborn and looked up at Jake.Â
âAlright, Dad, if you wanna take off your shirt and have a seat,â she said, nodding towards the rocking chair he was in earlier.Â
Jake was quick to pull his shirt up and over his head, throwing in the direction of their go-bag without really looking. He noticed, as he strode across the room to sit down, Nurse Taylor look over her shoulder and give Ronnie an approving look. His wife just laughed, and Jake couldnât help but smirk to himself.Â
But the expression was quickly wiped from his face as Nurse Taylor laid Maisie down on his chest â draping the sun blanket over them both. She told him how to support her bottom and to lean back in the rocker just a bit. Maisie felt so small laying against him like that. He could fit her in one arm, carry her around like a football. And she was warm, nuzzling her face into his chest. When he looked down, he watched as her tiny hand wrapped around the chain of his dogtags. He smiled through the tears that blurred his vision as he kissed the top of her head.Â
His little girl. His Maisie Carole Grace.
He didnât know what time it was. He didnât know what was going to happen next. But he loved his daughter. He wanted the world for her. He wanted to do right by her. And he knew he was going to screw up, he was only human. But he was going to try his hardest to be everything she needed him to be.Â
When he looked up, Nurse Taylor was gone. He didnât even realize she had left the room. And Ronnie was sitting up in bed with her phone camera pointed at him. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she quickly tucked it away with a guilty look on her face.Â
âSâtoo sweet a moment not to,â she said, âAt least Iâm not your mom telling you to smile.âÂ
âYeah, thereâll be plenty of that tomorrow,â he chuckled lightly, then he looked back down at Maisie with reverence and awe reserved for things most precious in this world. âWellâŠGuess weâre officially a family now, huh?â
âHmm, guess so,â Ronnie sighed.Â
Jake told her to go back to sleep, and he held Maisie against his chest until the sun began to stream in through the windows.
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don't date coworkers- s.r.
a/n: i literally wrote this very fast and also i hope you like it pls go easy on me!!! reader has a policy they don't date coworkers. spencer is so angsty abt that !! also sorry for dropping a new fic at 2am LOL wc: 1.7k
Sheâs really, really good at talking to people.Â
Itâs one of the many traits Spencer adores about her. She moves through crowds with ease, and she can charm her way into any piece of information from whatever city cop they need a favor from. She integrated into the team faster than anyone couldâve expected. This is a strength not all profilers have- they know what it takes to know what makes someone appealing, but rare is the ability to be as charismatic and charming as she is.Â
Sheâs good at talking to him.
Sheâs worked at the BAU for about a year now. 13 months, 7 days and 8 hours since she walked through the doors of the bullpen for the first time, beaming at him for the very first time. Give or take.Â
Spencer wouldnât be surprised if everyone knew that he was in love with her. Heâs halfway certain she does, and is being too polite to mention it. Normally, Spencer is incredibly regimented about boundaries. While the BAU is his family, and thereâs no real way to deny that, he knows that heâs less than ideal to go out with. Heâs stocky and he never cuts his hair (even though she swears itâs cute longer) and heâs an awkward guy- gangly and tall and just ill-fitting to be part of the scenery of her life.Â
Itâs a Friday, and a rainy one at that. Itâs one of the blessed ones where they donât really have a case, just paperwork to catch up on, reports and her desk faces a window.Â
Normally, when Spencer gets his work done (a good four hours before everyone else on a paperwork-only day), heâd head out. Catch up on whatever Russian novel heâs been chipping away at- but sheâs here, and heâs made her favorite tea.Â
âI thought you could use a treat,â he says, walking over to her desk. She looks up at him, brushing overgrown bangs, âItâs not really a great one, but Iâll get you some scones on the way to mine, yeah?â
She looks up at him, dropping her pen and focusing entire energy on him. He feels a bit overwhelmed, like an ant under a magnifying glass.Â
âDid you know that I adore you, Spence?âÂ
He is very much not aware. No amount of her saying it will ever make him know. She takes a long sip from the mug. He knows how much honey she likes in it. He studies how she looks, eyes closed serenely, completely invested in what heâs given her.Â
âYouâll be taking her home, pretty boy?â Morgan snickers, in a not altogether unkind manner.Â
âFuck off,â she says kindly, not taking her eyes off of Spencer as she rebuffed Morganâs teasing.Â
âEasy, easy,â Morgan laughs, âIâll leave your boyfriend alone.â
If she has anything to say to that, it doesnât come out then.Â
Heâs still bright red, though. Morgan is amused, and Spencer knows that she really, truly adores Morgan. Spencer loves him too, but it would be nice if he laid off the jokes.Â
She doesnât date coworkers.Â
He knows this because of the first time theyâd met, when heâd been walking in carrying a croissant for Garcia and a coffee for JJ, and saw what can only be described as a truly ridiculously beautiful woman in the bullpen.Â
Sheâd been leaned back, smiling openly as Morgan tossed some random pick-up line towards her. He remembers it now like he can still hear it, her lilting lovely voice carrying just the right amount of warmth to make this not sting, or at least sting as little as possible.Â
âIâm sorry, Derek,â she had said, âI make it a point not to date coworkers.âÂ
Which of course is fine. She can date whoever she wants, and itâs a good policy to have personally. And Spencerâs never really be the kind of guy who excelled at getting dates. He knew from the first minute that he saw her that even if she didnât think that way⊠well, it wouldnât be him, who she picked.Â
Now, they are very close. So close that she drives him home from work every Friday. Which usually includes staying at his shitty apartment and watching VHS tapes of documentaries and Doctor Who.Â
He wants to kiss her every Friday. All, the time, really. Itâs kind of plaguing him. Clearly, she likes hanging out with him. Something about him is appealing. Itâs foolish to assume that itâs more than friends, especially for someone like him to be with someone like her.Â
She doesnât date coworkers.Â
âI made sure the film tonight has subtitles!â
âAre you saying film because this film is foreign, Spence?â
âI promise itâs worth it!â He says excitedly, âAnd theyâre really done well. You wonât have to have me whisper the translations to you in real time!â
âI didnât mind that,â She laughs then, a real laugh, âbut Iâm glad weâre getting to hang out tonight.â
Itâs funny- theyâve done this so, so many times, but he never stops being thrilled.Â
___________________________________
Sometimes, when the summer air is forgiving enough, they walk home from the office. She takes the train in, and they walk back to his place. Tonight is one of these nights, and god- she looks lovely. Sheâs tied her blazer around her waist, and the sunset hits her face in that gorgeous baroque painting kind of way.Â
âYouâre very pretty,â he hears himself say before he can stop it. Heâs endlessly pleased when she preens at the praise.Â
âYouâre not so bad yourself, Doctor,â she says, shoving her hands into her pockets, a nervous gesture. He wants to hold those hand, intertwine her lovely delicate fingers with his bony wispy fingers.Â
âYouâre being nice to me,â he says, looking down at his shoes. Theyâre stupid. He should wear loafers, or some other shoe that doesnât make him like half-child half-geek.Â
âIâm being accurate, actually,â she says she bumps his shoulder.Â
Sheâd be a wonderful girlfriend. He lives in the world this can happen quite often, in his fantasy. She laughs at his jokes and tells him heâs kind, and good, and she means it. Heâs lucky to have this much of her- more than anyone else on the team! Spencer knows heâs her favorite. The way sheâs looking at him now, how she give-up her Fridays to spend with him, on his ratty couch, how she always listens. Whenever they're both on the jet and he falls asleep, he always wakes up with a blanket on him. She's so good at loving people.
Being her favorite on the team does not mean heâs in the running to be a boyfriend. But heâd fucking want to be. Heâd be a good boyfriend. Spencer, heâs gone so far for her. He fantasizes about getting her flowers that have symbolic meaning.
âAre you okay, boy-genius?â
âIâm better than okay. Do you want popcorn?â
She wants popcorn. He sets the movie up, and she gets comfortable on his couch, curling up with his purple felt blanket, and his mind betrays him with unhelpful images of what it might look like if she was his, if this is what he came home to.Â
Don't picture welcome home kisses, or movie nights or being wanted. Don't.
Itâs very, very hard to focus on the movie. Â
Sheâs touchy, with him. Heâs not sure if itâs because she could never see him as her boyfriend, but heâs grateful as she leans her head on his. She smells like peonies. When the credits roll, they stay like that for minute- her head on his shoulder and one of her legs thrown over his.Â
He wonders, not for the first time, if she feels the same way about him. If things were just..different, then theyâd be kissing under the haze of his TV right now, if heâd know what that chapstick she carries with her every day tastes like.Â
âDo you ever wonder what itâd be like if we met under different circumstances?â he says, once time passes and he speaks instead of thinking.
âHmm?â She hummed, relaxed eyes flitting their gaze over to him.
âLike, at a bar or something.â
âBut you hate bars.â
âThatâs why I said or something!â
Her lip juts out adorably, âBut then I wouldnât get to see you in your element.â
âYeah,â he sighs, resting his neck on the top of the cushion. The AC is a little too much in the room. He wonders if sheâs cold. âBut who knows. Maybe weâd date, or something.â
Itâs the dumbest thing heâs ever fucking said. Both because it was a dumb way to say it, but because it was an advance. He feels white hot shame lick at his spine when he looks at her, and hears her laugh.Â
âI donât think so, Spence.âÂ
âNo,â shitshitshit, âI didnât mean-â
âI mean, if you donât want to date me now, I donât think meeting at like, Whole Foods wouldâve been the difference maker.â
Itâs then he hears it- the piece he couldnât place in her voice, when she gets like this. Itâs being resigned.Â
âWhat are you talking about?â
âCâmon, Spence,â she says, another bitter chuckle coming through, âYou know how I feel. I havenât exactly beens subtle.â
âBut you donât date coworkers. You have a rule.â
She looks at him with no recognition of what heâs saying.Â
âNo, because you told Morgan that, itâs the first thing I ever heard you say.â
âYeah, but-â
âAnd yes, okay, youâve been my favorite person almost as long as Iâve known you and yes, I would fucking love for you to be my girlfriend, but that was your rule!â
âYou want me to be your girlfriend?â
âObviously!â
He doesnât get the chance to say anything else before, well- before sheâs kissing him. More aggressive than that, really. Crawled onto his lap, arms around his neck, and where she leads Spencer is all too happy to follow. His body is not great at moving on instinct, but his whole nervous system feels alive- the weight of her in his lap, the feel of her waist under his fingers, the way heâs allowed this. It feels like such a pleasure, hedonistic in a way heâs never, ever been allowed to experience.
âYou had a rule,â he says dumbly when she pulls away. His lips are wet. Heâd like to go back to kissing, thank you very much.Â
âYouâre the exception, to every rule, Spencer.â
When he kisses her again (which heâs allowed to do now, holy fuck) Spencer decides heâs going to spend the rest of all time earning that status.Â
#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x reader
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THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)
read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)
pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)
word count: 8.5k
summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.
warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!
author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it âĄ
âȘ: the grudge by olivia rodrigo
(i. you have a sharp tongue)
fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.
"you'll get used to it."
luke sat up to see you climbing through the window.Â
you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer.Â
âthe shitty mattress?â
âi meant the whole chaos of cabin 11, and the way things work around here in general. if you can get used to the shitty mattress, all power to you.âÂ
your tone was friendly enough, playful even. you smiled at him so comfortably it made luke nauseous.Â
âgood to know.â he tried to smile back at you, but his heart wasnât in it. âiâm luke, by the way.â
âyeah, i know. iâm ââ
ây/n!â
you seemed entirely unfazed as the blond who called your name stormed over to you. you rolled your eyes, something only luke could notice, before turning to her.
âsomeone stole my candy.â
âiâm very sorry to hear that, maddy. gotta be careful around here.â your voice dripped like poisoned honey, deceptively innocent and sweet.
maddy was not having it. she huffed at you. âit was you, wasnât it?â
âthat depends. did you cheat at poker last night? again?âÂ
some of the chatter throughout the cabin paused, heads turning to listen in.Â
âwhat? n-no!âÂ
âthen you have your answer, maddy.â you exaggerated a sigh, as though you had already won the fight and were annoyed that she came back for more. ânow, if youâll excuse me, i have a new camper to show around.â
chiron had already given them a tour, but luke didnât protest when you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the window with you. your hand was warm in his as you dragged him along to the corner of the cabin where a poorly made ladder waited for you.Â
âcome on.â you started climbing, and only stopped to look down when you realized luke wasnât following you. âbest view of camp. trust me.â
a shiver passed through luke. trust didnât come easy to him. he also didnât particularly want to return to a stuffy cabin where all he would do was count reasons he did not want to be there.
 so, luke followed you. he sat down next to you on the roof and looked out at the sun shining on his new home, but he couldn't help but be slightly bitter. the gods had gotten all of you into this life of endless danger and battles and monsters, and this was all they had to offer in return: a summer camp.Â
it just didn't seem fair.Â
there was something else he noticed then. what was it that chiron had said? camp half-blood was supposed to be a safe haven for all demigods.Â
âi donât get it. there are only twelve cabins, but arenât there, like, a million other gods?â
you straightened your posture then, and turned to luke with a newfound interest.Â
âcamp half-blood only has cabins representing the twelve olympians. apparently, theyâre the only ones important enough to have children worth recognizing, and they canât even do that half the time,â you explained, impertinence laced throughout your words. it seemed like something you could never quite get off your chest.Â
every demigod knew that the gods didnât appreciate sarcasm. they didnât particularly like being called out on their bullshit, either.
you didnât seem to care; you even rolled your eyes up at the sky, as if challenging zeus himself.Â
âanyways, thatâs why the hermes cabin is so crowded. it takes in campers who are unclaimed or whose parent doesnât have a cabin at camp. like me.â
âso, whoâs your godly parent?â
you fiddled with the leather cord on your neck. it held a few clay beads like the other campers, but there was one silver charm he noticed only you wore â scales, by the looks of it. you clutched onto it.
luke realized that, despite your own advice, maybe you resented having to get used to the way things worked around here, and having to hide your resentment. maybe that was worse than having to sleep on an uncomfortable bed for the rest of your life.
"nemesis. goddess of revenge."
"that's....hardcore."
you scoffed and moved on to twisting the silver ring on your index finger. "a lot of people take it that way, and i think it scares them a bit.â
âso thatâs why youâre extra nice to new campers, huh?âÂ
âno, i was just in a good mood today.â you smirked.
âguess i was just lucky, then.â
luke couldnât help but smile at your laugh â sharp, biting. you nudged your boot against his sneaker, which shifted you closer to him, shoulders practically touching.Â
âwhat people donât understand is that it's more about balance, you know? you do good things, and good things happen to you. at least, they should. you do bad things andâŠ.â you pulled out an outrageously big bag of candy, dropped it between you and luke, and winked at him. âyou face the consequences.âÂ
âthat makes sense.â luke leaned over to grab a handful of gummy bears. âlike karma.â
âyeah. exactly.âÂ
you bit the head off a red bear, both of you chewing in silence before you added:
âby the way, iâm sorry about your friend.â you swallowed and caught lukeâs gaze.Â
chiron warned him that word would travel fast around camp about what happened to thalia, and luke had prepared himself for anything â anything but your reaction. there was no pity in your eyes; instead, there was a hint of rage, as though thalia had been your friend, too.Â
âshe deserved more.âÂ
lukeâs eyes caught the glint of a knife strapped to your belt. he took another handful of the candy you stole, and he thought about the fire and fearlessness behind your words, and, despite everything, it felt right to be with you then and there.Â
âyeah,â he finally whispered back. âshe did.â
we all do.Â
neither of you said those words, but the suggestion was there, and it felt like a promise.Â
(ii. you hold on to every stupid, little detail)
âslow down, tiger.âÂ
your voice echoed throughout the arena, and if luke had been fighting a real opponent, it might have gotten him killed. instead, he just stopped mid-swing, sparing another straw dummy from losing its arm.Â
âleft hand,â you noted as you walked past him towards a bench. âyou, my friend, are in need of a break.â
luke loosened the grip on his sword. the only time luke fought with his non-dominant hand was when he had overworked the other. he must have switched an hour ago, but judging by how heavy his arm felt, it could have very well been two. Â
his curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked through. he could feel a dull pain behind his eyes, and luke was worried that if he stopped to catch his breath, he would pass out. or, even worse, have to face the reality of the shitty news heâd gotten early that day.Â
âcome sit with me,â you urged. âyouâre exhausted, tiger.âÂ
luke bristled at your nickname for him.Â
sure, luke loved that there was something only you called him, a secret kept between you in plain sight, but it was also a reminder that it was harder to hide behind the hero act when you were around.
everyone else at camp figured the nickname was a playful attempt at calling him strong and charismatic. the truth was that luke once told you that his favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes and that he would dream of playing sports as well as tony the tiger. for better or for worse, like most things, you wouldnât let it go.Â
case in point: if it was anybody other than you trying to get him to take a break, luke could have just brushed them off with a charming smile and continued swordfighting until his arms fell off, but in the two years since meeting you, luke had never met anyone as stubborn and convincing. like him, it seemed you were willing to fight and shed blood to get your way. luke was never really in the mood to make you bleed, even when feeling like he could burn the entire world down, so he usually gave in to your demands. Â
as soon as he sat down next to you, you handed him an orange flavored energy drink â his favorite. anything other than water was hard to come by at camp without the enchanted goblets in the dining pavilion, or the right connection in the hermes cabin. he ran out of his stash the other day, but you must have noticed and gotten one of the stoll brothers to smuggle more in.Â
âthanks,â luke said, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through him when your fingers brushed together briefly.Â
 the two of you looked out at the sword arena, and all the straw dummies that luke had destroyed. you wait for him to take three big gulps of his drink before speaking again.Â
âi guess chiron and your dad decided you werenât ready for a quest.â
luke exhaled sharply. âhow did you ââ
âthe only time youâd skip out on capture the flag is if something really shitty happened.â you looked down at lukeâs clenched fists, and that seemed to be all the confirmation you needed. âyou promised annabeth you'd be there, and it's not like you to let her down."
fuck. he had completely forgotten that tonight was annabeth's first time as team captain. this entire week, she had been prepping a winning strategy. it wasnât like annabeth needed him to win, but luke was her big brother, and he should have been there. you were right â he had let her down.Â
the realization made lukeâs day go from bad to worse.Â
"i told her you were helping a new camper with an emergency. she didn't believe it, but she adjusted her strategy and we still won.â
âwell, thank the gods everything worked in the end,â luke grumbled.Â
âdonât thank the gods,â you quipped. âthank annabeth chase for her brilliant mind, and me for covering for your sorry ass.â
when luke didnât indulge in your usual playful banter, you moved closer to him and brushed some curls away from his eyes. your skin warmed his forehead, and the small gesture made him feel better than he had all day.
âlook, iâm not going to give you some bullshit inspirational speech about how the gods donât get to define what a hero is, or how you donât need a quest to prove that youâre worthy of being one. weâve each been through that before, and i have a feeling this wonât be our last time, either.â
âthen why are you here?â the question came out harsher than luke had intended it to.
âbecause sheâs trying her best to hide it, but annabeth is really hurt that you didnât show up for the game. i figured the least you could do is suck it up, come to the campfire, and make her those signature luke castellan sâmores. you could probably use one, too, since you havenât eaten anything since breakfast.âÂ
you were right, again. luke was exhausted, he was furious, but most of all, he was starving. Â
later that night, luke sat next to annabeth and vowed to make her as many sâmores as she wanted. youâd gone to sit with the hephaestus kids, trying to convince beckendorf and nyssa to join your cabinâs post-campfire party at the beach, even though they had to work in the forges early the next morning.Â
when chiron made his weekly speech, congratulating the winners of capture the flag and thanking the gods for keeping everyone safe, you and luke caught each otherâs gaze from across the fire. you rolled your eyes and luke bit back a smile as you turned back to beckendorf. he noticed your knees were practically touching. did you sit that close to everyone?Â
luke was looking at you for so long that the marshmallow he was roasting fell into the fire, despite annabethâs warnings. she handed him another one.Â
"you should tell her how you feel," annabeth said. "stop being a coward."Â
whether it was the smell of burnt sugar, the heat of the fire, or annabethâs comment, luke started to feel dizzy. he did his best to shake it off, asking annabeth for a play-by-play of her strategy earlier that night, but he couldnât quite get rid of the thought of you.Â
(iii. you don't care if your clothes are stained with blood)
âi justâŠ.i canât fucking believe you, luke.â
âi donât get why youâre so upset â youâve never cared about quests before.â
luke was hoping to break the news to you after capture the flag. unfortunately for him, word travels fast around camp.Â
annabeth had the two of you scouting the east side for the flag, while she and some other athena kids took the west. you hadnât found anything so far, which meant that youâd spent the better part of an hour bickering over lukeâs choice of companions for his quest. a choice that included charles beckendorf and chris rodriguez, and purposefully did not include you, much to your fury. Â
before you could continue arguing, luke heard the sound of footsteps approaching. he looked over to you, and you already had your shield and sword at the ready.Â
a few red defenders emerged from the trees. one charged at luke, but you stepped in so he could deal with the other two. one of his opponents went down fairly easily, but the other put up much more of a fight. metal clashed behind him as you kept fighting as well. you might not have been as skilled a swordfighter as luke, but he knew that you could hold your own, at least until he was finished with the person in front of him.Â
luke parried his opponentâs strike, causing them to take a step closer. he was preparing to disarm them, just as he heard you yelp and stumble to the ground. it only took a millisecond of his attention, but it gave his opponent the opportunity to elbow him in the face. luke felt a crack upon impact, and pain radiated from his nose; he powered through.Â
he had to finish this fight, and he had to do it fast. you needed him.Â
his ears were ringing as he finally knocked over his opponent, kicking away their sword and keeping his foot on their chest. luke turned around to see you having turned the tides, the blade of your sword dangerously close to your opponentâs neck.
you locked eyes with luke, and you both understood â it was time to go. the two of you ran through the forest, as far away as you could before having to stop and catch your breath.
luke removed his helmet to get some air, and dropped his weapons. you did the same. you looked at him, brows furrowed.
âyour nose.â
luke licked his lips, tasting blood. the triumph of winning that last fight overshadowed the ache of his potentially broken nose. in fact, he liked the image of a ruthless warrior emerging from the glory and gore of battle, that even though he did not bleed ichor like a god, he still had power.Â
you, on the other hand, didnât look impressed. instead, you stepped forward and offered the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the blood.Â
âyou donât have to ââ
âi know you think youâre a badass walking around all broken and bloody, but you shouldnât deny your admirers your pretty face,â you teased.Â
it was no secret that luke had numerous admirers around camp, a fact you loved to tease him about. he was sure that you relished in how flustered that made him. all you had to call him was pretty boy, and luke could be reduced to a blushing mess.Â
it was pathetic how much power you had over him.
âbesides, i wouldnât have gotten out of that last fight if you hadnât taught me that disarming technique earlier. i owe you. itâs what we do. we take care of each other, right?â
he couldnât argue with that.
a few moments of silence passed as you cleaned his face. something shifted as you worked, the flirtatious grin fading away. when you pulled away, your sleeve was stained a dark crimson.Â
âjust tell me honestly,â you finally murmured. âwhy don't you want me to join your quest?âÂ
luke was genuinely taken aback by the softness of your voice, now devoid of its usual fire. you wouldnât meet lukeâs eyes, but being that close to you, he noticed they were slightly glazed over.
he had expected you to be angry at his decision. he expected you to yell and argue and try to change his mind. luke hadnât expected you to be so hurt. so broken.Â
he hadnât planned on it, but luke decided to tell you the truth then.
âlook, karma, if you come with me, my heart wouldnât fully be in the quest. iâd be so caught up inâŠ.well, you.â
a pause.
âis that a bad thing?â
ânot usually, no.âÂ
you smirked a little at that, and lukeâs heart skipped a beat. it also made his decision even clearer.Â
âbut i need to be focused for this. i needâŠ.â he let out a deep sigh. âi need to prove myself. this is my first real chance, and i canât fuck it up.â
you met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, your signature spark of confidence returning. Â
âyou wonât.â
you reached a hand up to play with his necklace. luke hadnât noticed how close youâd gotten until your fingers started tracing over those four clay beads. it made his entire body burst into flames.
âiâve been wanting to do something for a while. and, aphrodite save me, it might be really stupid, but ââ
luke took a lucky guess as to where you were going, and crashed his lips against yours. aphrodite knows that he'd been wanting to do that for a while, too.Â
he often got drunk on the adrenaline of battle, the glory of winning, but nothing was quite like the rush of kissing you for the first time.Â
it was messy and urgent, both of you aware that, at any moment, you could be interrupted. your noses were bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. the metallic tang of blood lingered on lukeâs tongue, but neither of you seemed to care. you even bit his lip slightly, as if you wanted more. armor sat heavy and cold between your chests, preventing you from getting closer. luke had never loathed the protective gear more.Â
he made up for it by lodging one hand underneath your jaw, and snaking the other beneath the celestial bronze, beneath the cotton of your shirt, admiring how your pulse quickened under his thumb when he grazed the soft skin of your stomach. you tangled your hands into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. he groaned and felt you smirk against his lips.Â
luke had kissed a few people before, sure, but never like this: like a knife to the gut, and if you pulled away, luke would surely bleed out and die.Â
it wouldnât be a heroâs death, in the traditional sense, but at least heâd die happy.Â
how many heroes could claim that?
when luke ran out of air, feeling like his lungs were burning, he had to pull away.Â
you glanced down at lukeâs kiss-bitten lips, then back to his eyes. luke flushed under the intensity of your gaze.Â
âjust promise me something, tiger,â you whispered, voice hoarse.Â
âanything.â
âcome back alive.â
luke leaned forward and placed another kiss on your lips, this one much gentler than before.
âi promise.â
(iv. you love like a scar that won't fade)
the nightmares were getting worse.Â
luke woke up in a cold sweat, taking gulps of air in an attempt to steady his breathing.
âluke.âÂ
your whisper did little to quell the pit of dread growing in his stomach, but it did enough to bring him back down to reality.Â
he was at camp half-blood (fuck the gods of olympus), in the hermes cabin (fuck you, dad), in a bed next to yours (fuck, if he could tell you what â who â was going through his head, he would).
âiâmâŠiâm fine,â he murmured back, voice catching slightly on the lie.Â
like clockwork, you shifted from your bed to his, slipping under the covers. it didnât matter that it was a hot summer night, and the minute your legs touched his, he could feel himself starting to overheat.Â
your thumb brushed over the thick edge of his scar, up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye. it had been a year, living with this reminder. a reminder that he had failed, just as much as his father and the olympians had failed him.Â
luke tried to pretend that he didnât come back from his quest as a shell of who he once was. after all, it was meant to be his shining moment as a demigod, meant to gain him all the glory and fatherâs praise he once wished for.Â
what a fucking joke.
every morning, luke would crawl into a different skin. he welcomed new campers and taught sword-fighting. he laughed with chris and his other siblings and strategized with annabeth for capture the flag. he would be the easy-going, charming, skillful senior counselor who respected the gods and honored them in everything he did.Â
again: a fucking joke.
nights were different, though, with you so close to him, you who could always see right through him.
every night, luke was a fourteen-year old boy again, with so much rage and resentment he didn't know what to do with it.Â
of course, you were always you - a bleeding heart underneath layers of armor. you didn't care about fate, or the gods, or the titans. you cared about justice, you cared about what was right and fair.Â
most of all, you cared about luke.
âyou were screaming,â you told him, voice barely cutting through the soft snores and sleeptalkings of your other cabinmates.Â
âsorry,â he managed. looking at you in the dull moonlight, luke noticed the deep shadows under your eyes.Â
âitâs fine. you justâŠ.you scared me, tiger.âÂ
your hand still rested on his cheek, and for a second, luke hoped you would kiss him, but you didnât. instead, you told him to try and get some sleep, and sank further into his bed before closing your eyes.Â
for the hundredth night in a row, luke hoped you couldnât hear his heart hammering in his chest as you fell asleep next to him.
since coming back from his quest, luke didnât have it in him to suggest being anything other than friends, and you didnât push it. there had been a few....moments between you, sure, but nothing more.
luke thought you might have changed your mind, because who would want to be with a bitter, worthless, wannabe hero? then again, that voice haunting his dreamsâŠ. luke could change that.Â
but, at what cost?
(v. you protect people as ruthlessly as a starving dog)
luke could hear you talking to percy jackson outside. though he couldnât quite determine what was being said, as much as he tried.
you entered the bathroom and instantly caught lukeâs eyes in the mirror. you were wearing your faded pyjama shorts with cartoon crows, and a flannel shirt that luke had a sneaking suspicion might have been his. you smiled at him before setting up at the counter, one sink between you.Â
âwhat was that about?â luke asked after spitting out a mouthful of minty toothpaste.
âoh, nothing.â you were searching through your toiletry bag for something, and seemed to come up short. âhey, do you have any extra dental floss?â
luke threw some over to you. as you effortlessly caught it, he noticed your knuckles, bruised and bloodied.
âwhat happened?âÂ
you finished flossing and briefly examined your hands before pulling out your toothbrush.Â
âitâs not a big deal,â you assured. âsome ares kids were picking on percy, and then they started pushing him around, like, really pushing him around, soâŠ.âÂ
â....you decided to send them to the infirmary.â
you squeezed some toothpaste on your brush before continuing. âi donât need you to lecture me about how i shouldnât be fighting with other campers because iâve been here longer and i should be a good role model. you know what a good role model does? not let kids beat up other kids and think the worst punishment theyâll get is no dessert for a week.â
luke watched carefully as you jammed the toothbrush in your mouth and brushed with such force, he was worried your teeth might dislodge. he knew that you would shed blood for someone you loved, and that you didnât particularly care if you had to break rules in doing so, because you believed that what was written was not necessarily what was right.Â
in fact, luke loved that about you.
no, it wasnât the fighting that luke cared about â it was who you were fighting for.Â
percy was a good kid, he really was. luke just didnât want you getting attached.Â
âi wasnât going to lecture you. iâm guessing chiron already did?âÂ
you nodded and spat out what looked like a combination of toothpaste and blood. you rinsed your mouth until the water lost its pinkish hue. once you were done, luke continued his train of thought.
âi just didnât realize you cared so much about him.â
âabout percy?âÂ
luke could tell that he didnât have your full attention. you were packing your stuff back up, accidentally tossing lukeâs dental floss into your bag, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.
âyeah. the kidâs only been at camp for three days, and youâre already acting like his guard dog.â
you finally turned to luke and glared at him.Â
âmaybe. but percyâs sweet and he doesnât seem like the type to put up with bullshit. heâs been through a lot, and annabeth seems to like him, too. as far as iâm concerned, percyâs one of us, and iâm not going to let anyone push him around.â
luke raised an eyebrow at you. âheâs sweet?â
âyeah. like, just now, he gave me some blue raspberry jelly beans as a thank you. said his mom used to work at a candy store. he also wanted me to apologize to you for him. he feels bad about beating you in sword-fighting earlier.âÂ
you scoffed, like you resented luke for having to apologize to him on percyâs behalf. you definitely did not appreciate that guard dog comment. luke clenched his jaw, seething over what you had just said.Â
satisfied with his reaction, you gave luke that nauseating smile of yours, tilted your head towards the exit. a truce, because you never liked to fight with luke for too long, and a order, because you knew luke would always follow.Â
the two of you began walking back to your cabin in the warm mid-june air.Â
âi wouldnât say he beat me,â luke huffed. âit was beginnerâs luck.â
âsure, tiger. it was beginnerâs luck that disarmed the best swordsman weâve had in the last 300 years.â
you nudged lukeâs shoulder with yours, but he recoiled from your touch.Â
âare you trying to make me feel worse?â luke tried his best to avoid snapping at you, keeping his tone measured.
âiâm just saying that maybe the kid has natural talent and that doesnât make you any less talented. thereâs no need to get jealous.â
luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion.Â
to be clear, he was not jealous. itâs just that luke had spent years of blood, sweat, and tears getting to where he was then, and percy jackson had just gotten to camp.Â
and, to be even more clear, luke was not jealous of how you were already defending percy with your whole body and your whole heart, the way you did for him.Â
by then, you reached the front of the hermes cabin. luke could already hear the commotion of what he would need to deal with as soon as he walked in. the burden of being head counselor, one he approached with an elastic smile that could snap at any moment.Â
you tugged on lukeâs sleeve before he could open the door.Â
âhey. are we okay?â
luke looked down at your fingers grasping the fabric of a sweatshirt he was just realizing was yours. your nails were painted a dark red, now chipped after a week of wear. you had begged luke to paint his nails then, and once again, he gave in. he even started to like the purple you had chosen just for him, so deep it was almost black. the same color you were wearing the first time you and luke met.
he smiled at the memory â a real smile, no plastic â and then smiled back up at you.
âweâre fine, karma.â and he moved to enter the cabin. luke could hear the threat of an argument bubbling up, what sounded like a petty one over a prank gone wrong.
âwait.â you tugged at his (your) sweatshirt once more. âthereâs something i wanted to talk to you about, about tomorrow nightââ
âannabeth called a meeting during free time.â
âyeah, i know, itâs just ââ
âsheâll run through strategy for capture the flag then.â
âone of the aphrodite senior campers asked me to the campfire,â you blurted it out, and luke decided to ignore the sound of a fight breaking out from behind the wooden door.
what in the name of hades were you talking about?
âthey asked you out? likeâŠlike aâŠ.â luke didnât even want to speak the word, scared it would make it real.
âa date,â you said casually, as if that one word didnât rip lukeâs heart in a million pieces. âi said yes.â an admission that took all those pieces and set them on fire.Â
sure, in the seven years since you and luke met, youâd each talked about boys, about girls, about dating and kissing them and going further. but there was something about this one that felt different. something about the way you told him.
âbut, listen, i wanted to let you know itâs not ââ
âgood for you,â was all luke said through gritted teeth before someone started calling his name again, louder and more urgently, and he had to duck inside. Â
(vi. you taste like burning cherries and righteous anger)
your team had won capture the flag, of course. the biggest news of the evening, though: percy jackson was the son of the sea god.Â
he was a forbidden child, the hero of the great prophecy.Â
everything was falling into place.Â
all luke should be thinking about is kronosâ plan, and his role in it, and how a world without the gods of olympus was that much more in reach. Â
unfortunately, for the time being, he was so consumed by you.Â
you, from across the campfire, sporting cutoff denim shorts and fresh wounds from the game earlier. you, who had wrapped your knuckles in gauze, concealing their bruising, fixed the chips in your nail polish and stacked rings on your fingers. (for the record: luke had gifted you the one on your left thumb.) you, with dark lips that whispered too closely and laughed too loudly with a child of aphroditeâ jordan li.
you hadnât so much as looked at luke since congratulating each other on another win. when chiron announced his weekly gratitude to the gods at the start of that nightâs campfire, you didnât punctuate your resentment with your usual eye-roll or biting remark. you were too busy giggling at something jordan said.
luke wanted to be the one to whisper jokes in your ear. he wanted to be the one you left lipstick stains on later, along his jaw and down his neck. he wanted to be the one who kissed the blade mark on your shoulder and the bruises on your knuckles.Â
and yet, hours passed and it seemed that the thought of luke had never so much as crossed your mind. he found himself at an after hours party with a few senior campers on the beach. a lethal recipe: a poorly crafted bonfire, some contraband drinks and you in jordan liâs lap, playing with their hair and pretending luke castellan did not exist.Â
meanwhile, luke had katie gardnerâs full attention. she was talking to him about the strawberry season, potentially leaning a bit too close into lukeâs personal space, definitely flirting with him.Â
luke could have done a lot worse than the head counselor of the demeter cabin, who always smelled like fresh lavender, whose eyes were the bright green of spring grass and whose lips tasted like golden honey.Â
the problem was that luke only wanted you, and his eyes kept sliding over to where you were kissing jordanâs cheek, and he accidentally called the girl he was kissing by your name, which did not make her happy.Â
katie threw her drink in his face, told him to wake the fuck up, and walked away.
a chorus of gasps and chuckles erupted as luke stood there, diet coke and vodka seeping into his shirt. the commotion seemed to capture your attention, because you suddenly appeared next to luke, an empty bottle of cherry soda in your hand.
ârough night, tiger?â your voice, that nickname, made luke sick, his face twisting into a frown. you donât seem to notice or care. instead, you switched your bottle with lukeâs and took a sip.
âlooks like you were having a pretty good time,â luke practically sneered. âwhereâs your date?âÂ
 âthey went to bed.â you swallowed a mouthful of beer, grimacing at its bitterness. âgods, this is terrible. you and i should go on the drink run next time â we have better taste.â
âso, are you and jordan like a thing now?â
you gave luke a smile he didnât quite understand, but made his stomach churn in ways only you could. âwould that be a problem?â
âof course not.â he answered way too quickly for that to be true.Â
âletâs get out of here,â you suggested. âi think katie is about this close to strangling you with a tree branch.â
luke glanced over your shoulder to where green eyes glared back at him.Â
nowhere could luke find it in him to care. he wasnât even sorry. he just shrugged, took the bottle back from you, took his first sip all night. luke almost gagged (because of course you were right, and the stoll brothers had better fake ids than they had taste) but he suppressed it.Â
âno. iâm good.â
biggest lie he ever said. like there wasnât anger caught in his throat and jealousy swelling between his ribs.
âgo find jordan,â he taunted. âkiss them, show them a good time! isnât that the reason why you got all pretty?â
you narrowed your eyes at him carefully. your nostrils were slightly flared, and luke took a bit of pride in being able to rile you up.
âlook, we havenât really talked lately, and i think we should.â
âgo find jordan,â he mocked once more. âalmost all the aphrodite kids are here, and iâm sure you can be quiet enough to sneak into their cabin and if you want a quick fuââ
âluke.â you clipped his name, obviously getting to the limit of your patience with him. âif you want to stay here all night and be an asshole, youâre welcome to. you should know, though, that your happy-go-lucky hero mask is starting to crack and i donât know if you could deal with the fallout from it shattering completely.â
you leaned in close and whispered that last part, very aware of the chattering that stopped and the eyes that watched the pair of you anxiously. luke was usually good at hiding that part of himself who wanted to burn the world down.Â
in ways you didnât realize, you were right: he couldnât risk revealing it, not now.
not yet.Â
âdo whatever you want, castellan,â you spat out his last name, the combination of letters foreign in your mouth.âiâm leaving.â
luke should be proud of himself. he waited a whole two seconds before following you like a stray dog.Â
luke didnât know if heâd ever felt you that enraged by him, and it horrified him. it also made him hungry for more.Â
âiâm not sure that jordan would want the two of us alone together at night,â he shouted after you, words echoing into the starless sky.
âgods, enough about jordan!â luke practically ran into you with how fast you turned around to confront him. âi was helping them with that stupid aphrodite tradition!â
âyouâŠ.â luke faltered, all the snark leaving his body. âwhat?â
luke remembered silena beauregard once explaining the rite of passage to him: to prove themselves, a child of aphrodite had to make someone fall in love with them, and then break their heart.
âwhyâŠwhy would you agree to do that?â
you had reached the dining area by then, and you sat on one of the steps leading to the pavilion. luke stayed a few feet away, looking at you cautiously.Â
âjordan and i are already friends, and they figured a fake relationship would be the way to avoid anyone from actually getting hurt in the process.â
âyou seemed soâŠso into it, though,â luke stammered, the memory of you in jordanâs lap, laughter bubbling from your lips, still fresh.
âitâs called acting, dumbass.â the camp didnât rely on electricity, but there were enough torches around that luke could see you roll your eyes. âanyways, i was trying to give you a heads-up last night, but you wouldnât listen.â you took a deep breath. âand, honestly, i didnât push it becauseâŠ.i figured i should test a hypothesis.â
a hypothesis? youâd known annabeth for too long.
âwhat hypothesis?â
you hesitated.Â
âit doesnât matter. fuck, this was stupid,â you muttered, and without another word, stormed through the dining pavilion, a short cut to the hermes cabin. your footsteps fell heavy against the marble, and lukeâs not far behind.Â
âwhat hypothesis?â he asked again.
nothing but rushed footsteps.
âwhat hypothesis?â luke finally yelled.
third time was the charm, because you stopped in your tracks and faced luke once again. a fire burned in the bronze brazier, where campers were forced to offer up portions of your food to the gods at every meal. its roaring seemed to captivate you, and the flames danced across your face, illuminating all your curves and edges.
âiâm angry at the gods,â you stated.Â
this caught luke off guard. from the day the two of you met, luke knew you shared that feeling. youâd gotten quieter with your rage as youâd gotten older. luke supposed he got better at hiding it himself, as well.Â
âiâm angry at the gods for letting bad shit happen even if they can stop it, and for building this world in the fucked up way they did. iâm angry at your dad for the way heâs treated you, but â you, luke castellan.â you finally met lukeâs eyes with a gaze so sharp, luke almost felt himself bleed. âiâm also angry at you, and not just for your bullshit tonight.âÂ
your admission felt like a punch to the stomach, and luke was left with no air to breathe.
did you know?
âyou havenât been the same since your quest,â you continued, words slow and deliberate, the way you spoke when you were worried your voice would shake. âand iâve come to terms with that in the past few years, but youâŠ.youâve never tried to ice me out before. youâve been acting distant since december, and itâs been driving me insane. do you realize how much i miss my best âŠ..â you swallowed the word friend. âhow much i miss you?â
luke hesitated, because what could he say? i know iâve been distant, but iâve been busy trying to start a war between the gods. sorry babe!Â
would you hate him, if you knew?Â
you had to have known that, despite the distance, luke missed you. for tartarus sake, in the last two days, heâd driven himself mad at you calling a fourteen year old boy sweet, and he was about to combust at the image of you dating someone else, with little care as to the collateral damage.Â
"you can't just avoid me, makeout with katie fucking gardner, and thenâŠ.â you trailed off, hiding your face in your hands. whether it was to hide embarrassment or tears, luke wasnât sure.
a smirk spread across lukeâs face at the revelation that he hadnât been the only one jealous at the bonfire that night. it lit luke up with the confidence he needed to not completely fall to his knees in front of you, beg for your forgiveness for everything heâs done.
âwhy do you care if i make out with katie fucking gardner?âÂ
as he waited for a response, luke walked towards you until your back hit one of the marble columns.Â
âwhy do you care if iâm with jordan fucking li?â you clenched your jaw and looked right through luke. a clear indication that you wanted him to break down first; it wouldnât be you who yielded this fight.
âbecause i want to be the one youâre with.â at that point, luke was so close to you that he swore he could hear your heartbeat. he reached out and played with the hem of your shorts. âwhy do you care if i make out with katie gardner?â
âbecause.â you drew in a sharp breath when lukeâs fingers brushed underneath the denim, across the warm skin of your thigh. you closed your eyes. âdonât make me say it, tiger.âÂ
the desperation in your voice made luke want to do unholy things with you, to you. luke knew you didnât think of him as a saint, and you never expected him to be one. the reality was that you werenât much better, either. what was essentially an altar to the gods burned bright next to you, but it seemed neither of you had ever cared less about it than in that moment.Â
luke would watch olympus fall. he would dethrone the gods and watch their glass castle shatter and find glory in a new world. in the grand scheme of things, he was willing to lose this battle.
in fact, he would have rather betrayed the titan lord himself than waste another second not kissing your lips.Â
so, he kissed you, and you kissed him back with such force, such hunger, it was ungodly.
no, you certainly werenât a saint â but you were divine, in the most brutal, intoxicating way. in the way you shuddered when luke lodged a leg between your thighs; in the way you threaded your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer; in the way the metal of your rings burned through the skin of his hip, right to the bone, which made him shudder, and you smile triumphantly against his jaw.
the more he tasted your smirk flavored by cherry soda and the ashes of nearby flames, the more he felt your feral teeth against his neck and your wicked nails digging into his shoulders, the more you tugged on his curls, the more luke thought: maybe.Â
maybe you would give into your seething resentment, live up to those eye-rolls and snarky comments that got you in trouble with chiron, on the edge of hot water with the gods. maybe you would join the titan army. maybe, just maybe, this time, you would follow luke.
and yet â maybe wasnât enough if it meant he could lose this. luke wouldnât risk it, not until he kissed every battle scar and bruise on your body, and you did the same to his.Â
âwait.â
it was the last thing luke wanted to do, but he complied. he took the opportunity to appreciate the chaos he created: your shirt in disarray, your lipstick a mess, your chest heaving and desperate to catch a breath.Â
âi promised jordan that weâd keep up our charade for a week, two at the most. do you think we could keep thisâŠâ you tightened your fist around the fabric of his shirt. âa secret until then?â
luke responded by pressing his lips to yours once more, because there were definitely worse secrets to keep.
(vii. you wouldnât hesitate to make him bleed)
luke had just left percy jackson to die.
he should be leaving camp, now, but he needed to see you one last time.Â
the universe works in mysterious ways, because you were out on a run through the forest, and you crossed paths before he even had time to wonder where you were.
âhey, tiger.â you smiled as if this was a regular afternoon. the two of you would teach your afternoon activities, sneak away during dinner so luke could kiss you in that spot that made you gasp. âwanna join me? i was just wrapping up, but i could be convinced to go longer.â
for a second, he was tempted to. very tempted.Â
âi donât have much time.â
you seemed to notice lukeâs sullen mood and you dropped your playful demeanor.Â
luke explained: the messages from kronos in his dreams, him stealing the lightning bolt and helm of darkness to start a war between the gods and framing percy. the plan to destroy olympus that luke had pledged his life to.
percy was surprised at what luke had done, and luke could imagine that the rest of camp would be, too. luke was the golden boy of camp half-blood, everyoneâs big brother.Â
you, on the other hand, didnât express any sense of shock.Â
âluke.â you said his name like you werenât quite sure it was poison. âiâm going to give you five seconds to tell me that youâre joking.â
five seconds of silence passed. you took a few steps back from luke.
âiâŠ.i should have told you sooner.â
âyeah,â you scoffed. âyou should have. but, you didnât. did it feel good, having the titan king whispering sweet nothings in your ear? all the lies about how this war is the only way to get the glory you so desperately want? itâs fucking delusional.âÂ
âitâs not delusionalââ
âyes, it is!â you glared at him. âyouâre on the wrong side of a war you made the mistake of starting.â
luke straightened his posture, thinking about how hypocritical you were being.Â
âisnât this what youâre all about? revenge, karma. your mom will probably join us, too. donât you want to see the gods finally get what they deserve?â
ânot like this. i canât believe how desperate you are, to believe that kronos is going to make everything right. itâs pathetic,â you spat. âiâm not saying the gods donât deserve to be taken down a notch. their fucking obsession with power and gloryâŠ.itâs sick and twisted, but i donât think your titan king is any better. i donât think you are any better.âÂ
âitâs time that the gods fall. this is the only way, even if it isnât perfect,â luke countered. his voice was firmer now as he absorbed your anger. your mother was the goddess of revenge, but you clearly didn't understand the sacrifices, pain, and blood that was required to make the world a better place. Â
luke just needed to convince you.
âweâve talked about this for years,â he continued. ânothing is balanced! thereâs no justice here, for anyone. we can build a better world where we donât have to burn our scraps and throw ourselves at monsters to get attention. we can fight together like we always have. y/n, i loveââ
âdonât,â you snapped. âdonât you fucking dare. you should have died on your quest.â your voice laced with venom. one hand gripping the knife you always kept on your belt. âthat dragon should have fucking sliced through you and saved us all the trouble.â
something pricked in the back of his throat, down to his stomach.
âyou donât mean that.â
âi do,â you promised. âat least you would have died with all of us thinking youâre a hero instead of the traitor you really are.â
you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance.Â
âiâm not going to fight you,â was all luke could say. he noticed your hand tremble, and you tightened the grip on your knife to prevent emotion from slipping through your invisible armor.Â
in that moment, you have could slice through luke, and it would hurt less than everything you just said, less than the murderous look you were giving him, like he was just another monster you wouldnât think twice about sending to tartarus.
luke didnât even have a chance to unsheathe his sword before you charged at him, but he quickly had you pinned to the ground, the tip of your own knife pointed at you. he hesitated. the blade pressed harder against your cheek than he intended, enough to break the skin and let a few droplets of dark crimson escape.Â
âplease come with me,â he pleaded. you didnât answer, but you did seem surprised by the softness of his voice.Â
a few moments passed, the celestial bronze still between you. luke waited for you to see his way, to yield to his proposal.
you didnât. instead, you took advantage of the situation. you wrapped your leg around his and flipped your position. in the process, you regained possession of your knife. without the hesitation that held luke back, you sliced through his cheek, deep. luke bit his lip to suppress a groan, tasting blood. your gaze set his whole body on fire as he waited for your next move. that was when you glanced down at his camp necklace, and the new clay bead added to commemorate this summer.
a turquoise trident.
âpercy told me he was on his way to see you,â you realized. âwhat did you do?â
luke didnât answer. he knew then that a choice ran through your head.Â
and it stung, just a little, watching you sprint away through the trees in a last ditch effort to save percyâs life.Â
there was a small, pathetic part of luke that wanted you to choose him, even if it meant you would have plunged the knife into his chest.
#this is my baby fr#really feeling the tragic hero vibe down to my core#will prob do a part 2 from reader's POV!#ofc inspired by get him back! bc nemesis!reader....#percy jackson#pjo fanfic#pjo series#luke castellan#luke castellan x you#luke castellan x reader#pjo x reader#luke castellan angst#luke castellan imagine#percy jackson and the olympians#luke castellan smut#saf writes#Spotify
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 2 - Adjustments
Summary: You're struggling a bit in your adjustment to your new life, and you're finding some of them are easier to get along with than others. Luckily you're not in it alone.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.
Author's Note: I'm so just overwhelmed with the attention this fic has gotten, but not in a bad way I promise! I'm just surprised is all. Thank you everyone that has read and reblogged and commented. I love all of you and so, since I have no self control, here is Chapter 2. Lots more world building and dialogue in this part, but I promise good stuff is coming.
Also I promise Soap will get his time soon. He's just the hardest for me to write, and you'll see why in this chapter.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
âShe was lying.âÂ
Price doesnât bother looking up as a dark figure leans against the wall next to him. He stares out at the empty space between the barracks and the mess hall, not much traffic between the buildings during this time of day.Â
âAbout how she got to the institute.âÂ
âOr at least not telling the whole truth.â Price says, turning to look at Simon. âSomething tells me sheâd talk if we asked.âÂ
âSheâs soft.â Simon says, letting his gaze drift off into the distance.Â
âSheâs a civilian.â Price counters. âThe CIA did a little training, but sheâll need some work. We canât leave her completely defenseless...âÂ
Simon turns to face him again. âThereâs something else.âÂ
Price pushes himself off the wall, heading back inside. Simon follows, the two of them making their way down the hall to his office. âThereâs hundreds of American military bases across the world, thousands of regiments they could have chosen from, and yet, they sent her to us.âÂ
Simon closes the door behind him as Price sinks into his desk chair. âYou think it was deliberate?âÂ
Price pulls open one of the drawers, pulling out the file Kate had given him. âLaswell said the CIA has had eyes on her for years.â He slides it across his desk to Simon. âThereâs a lot of why's in this situation, and a lot of howâs. Like, if what sheâs saying is true, how did a Staff Sergeant get his daughter into FIOT practically overnight?âÂ
Simon glances up at him over the top of the file. âYou think thereâs something else going on with this Initiative.âÂ
Price nods. âI do. I think thereâs more than one experiment being run, and weâre the guinea pigs.âÂ
You stare at your reflection in the mirror as you run a comb through your damp hair. You look tired, the dark circles that have plagued your face for the last few weeks looking even darker now. Itâs been a long day, so long itâs hard to believe itâs only been a matter of hours since you boarded the helicopter in London.Â
Your new pack had made themselves scarce after dinner, leaving you to your own devices. You had been left alone after lunch too, and you had spent that time laying in bed, resting after the overwhelming scenting.Â
Youâd played back the last few hours in your mind. Leaving London in the helicopter, meeting your new Pack Alpha, Laswell leaving, meeting your new pack, the scenting. You had plenty to think about, to stress over, and you had been surprised when the knock came at your door for dinner. You were equally surprised to see Gaz and Soap waiting for you.Â
Youâd been sandwiched between them again as you walked to the mess. It was busier for dinner, and the eyes werenât quite so quick to look away with the alphas missing. You know they have to be curious, with an omega on base following around two members of a SpecOps team, smelling like them. You know what they were probably thinking of you, what they were thinking your presence means.Â
Youâve begun to understand Priceâs rules a bit more.Â
Price and Ghost had joined you as Soap said they would, coming in late from whatever they had been busy doing. You had been seated next to Soap, Ghost taking his other side while Price sat next to Gaz. It hadnât gone unnoticed to you how close Soap and Ghost sat, and you remembered the look in Ghostâs eyes when Soap had approached to scent you. How his defensive stare had turned icy, threatening even, when heâd gotten close to you as if you were capable of hurting Soap. It had been a silent warning. If you tried anything, youâd have him to contend with.Â
Ghost is territorial, more so than most alphas. You had seen it just a bit in Price, but only because you had been watching for it. Ghost was silent in his claim, but his gaze spoke of his territorialism. As you sat at the table with them, you slowly felt the stares lessen, the curious alphas and betas around you slowly turning away from your table until you were left in peace. You knew it was all thanks to a well-pointed glare from the second alpha at the table.Â
Theyâd escorted you back to the barracks before disappearing again, leaving you alone. Youâd opted for a shower to try and clear your head, exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs but your mind was racing too much to really get any rest. You havenât been told what their normal schedules entail or even what they look like, but you expect an early morning tomorrow. Since Price had said at least one of them needed to escort you around base, that likely meant you were going to be constrained to their schedules.Â
You know even when theyâre not away, their days are probably full of training and briefings, much like yours had been for three months. Theyâre probably up early, earlier than youâd like to be, and then they go non-stop all day.Â
You wonder if they ever get a break.Â
Maybe this is a break for them.Â
You sit on the edge of the bed after you finish your routine, eyeing the pillows and blankets stacked at the end. Theyâre military issue, not as soft or as plush as you might have preferred. This is your new normal, though. Comfort isnât exactly going to be a high priority.Â
Tears prick your eyes as you run your hand over the comforter. You know itâs the exhaustion, the stress of the day beginning to weigh on you. Youâre worn out, and thatâs causing a slip in the tight reins you keep on your mood. Omegas and alphas were both prone to being moody, and those who were unrestrained could lose control quickly. Alphas were quick to anger, while omegas could get depressed very easily. Exhaustion drives both to being grumpy, though alphas will descend into irritability and anger, while omegas will get whiny and weepy.Â
You hate it, how easily you can be driven to cry. How easily you can lose control. It makes you feel weak and helpless, but thatâs partially by design. It was supposed to be your packâs job to fix that, to give you that support and take care of you.Â
Except you donât know your pack.Â
What would they do if you approached them like this, all teary and needy? Would instinct take over and snap them into their roles? Or would they give you an awkward pat on the back and leave you to take care of yourself? Gaz would help you, you think. He had slipped into that role so easily during the scenting. Your fingers twitch on the bedspread, your mind telling you to seek him out, track him down, even if itâs only to catch a whiff of his scent again. Â
Your phone screen lights up where itâs sitting on the nightstand, drawing your attention from the door. Kate had given you the phone just this morning before you left the hotel. It had her number on it, as well as your packâs. Youâd half expected to find messages already from them when youâd turned it on, but there had been none. They had kept that boundary of meeting in person first.Â
You pick up the phone, checking the message. Itâs from Price.Â
Breakfast is at 0700. Iâll take you to see the Omega Specialist after.Â
Seven oâclock. Itâs not terribly early. Youâd eaten around the same time at the institute. Youâll get to meet the Omega Specialist as well tomorrow. Youâve met plenty of them in your time as an omega, but something about the idea of having someone there who knows, who understands is comforting to you.Â
You send a reply in acknowledgement for tomorrowâs plan before setting an alarm for tomorrow morning. Thereâs an uneasy feeling under your skin, a tickling in the back of your mind that you canât seem to relax. Your eyes are drawn to the desk where the shirts still sit, and before you know it youâre moving to the desk, letting your fingers trail over each one.Â
You grab Priceâs shirt, taking it back to your bed. You curl up with your back facing the door, holding the shirt against your chest, letting the scent of tobacco smoke and whiskey fill your nose. Silent tears slide down your cheeks, your face pressing into the pillow to muffle your sobs.Â
As you try to muffle your tears, you miss the sound of boots pausing in front of your door, the person on the other side standing there for a moment before continuing down the hall.Â
You let out a groan as your alarm pulls you from sleep. You had drifted in and out for a few hours before finally managing to get a couple precious hours of sleep. Youâd woken when the others got up. You knew they were trying to be quiet but you had heard them shuffling around, talking quietly amongst each other. Youâre normally a fairly deep sleeper, but in a new place you always struggle.Â
A new place surrounded by almost complete strangers.Â
You turn off your alarm, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. Theyâre burning a bit, the exhaustion still weighing heavy on your shoulders. You pad to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face to try and make yourself at least look more alive than you feel. The last thing you need is them getting worried about you. Thatâs attention youâre not sure you want right now.Â
You blink sleepily at your closet, trying to decide what to wear. Were you allowed to wear anything? You didnât have much besides the basics, since the only thing you had been allowed to wear at the institute was its uniform and the clothes they provided. Then when you were with the CIA, they had provided clothes for you to wear as well. The things you have now had been bought by Kate before you left D.C.Â
Everyone on base wore similar variants of the same uniform. Youâre not military, though, so you donât think those rules apply to you. No one had said anything about your state of dress yesterday. You opt for comfort, knowing youâd likely find out soon if you were going to be forced to dress differently too.Â
Youâre tying your shoes when the knock sounds on your door. You had heard the others moving around, footsteps in the hallway, opening and closing doors, quiet voices talking and Soap laughing at something. You know itâs one of them, yet the nervous tickle at the back of your head is back.Â
Soap is leaning casually against your doorframe when you open the door. His face lights up in a smile as he sees you. âMorning, bonny. Sleep alright?âÂ
âYeah.â You shrug. âTossed and turned for a while.âÂ
âWe didne keep ye up did we?â He asks, his smile faltering just a bit.Â
You shake your head. âNo, I never sleep well the first few nights in a new place.âÂ
âWell, our beds are always open if ye need something more comfortable.â He winks at you playfully.Â
Your face warms at his words, the double meaning not lost on you. You were right, Soap was going to be the one to push your boundaries the most.Â
Gaz elbows him in the ribs as he passes. âSheâs been here a day, mate, donât go scaring her off now.â He leans on the other side of your doorframe, giving you a smile. âMorning.âÂ
âMorning.â You say, your face still warm from Soapâs teasing.Â
âYou hungry?â Gaz asks.Â
You nod. You do feel hungry this morning, likely a side effect from your emotional night last night. You step out of your room, the two betas stepping back to give you space as you close the door behind you. Ghost is leaning against the wall next to his door, his eyes watching with the typical cautious disinterest that seemed to be his default setting.Â
Gaz and Soap sandwich you between them again, close enough their arms brush yours as you walk. It was almost as if they could sense your inner turmoil, the neediness still tugging at the back of your mind. If Ghost hadnât been trailing the three of you, you might have been tempted to give in and grip their sleeves, or slip your hands into theirs. How would Ghost respond to such a bold move? The mental image of your body flying through the air as he punted you into next week almost makes you laugh.Â
Price is already seated at a table frowning at his phone over a cup of coffee. Gaz and Soap load up your tray for you, something youâre getting used to rather quickly. It was expected from the alphas, or at least Price, to coddle you a bit, but it seemed the betas were more than happy to get in on it as well.Â
The thought makes something flutter in your chest.Â
Youâre seated between Gaz and Price again once you reach the table, Price greeting you with a tired smile. âMorning. Sleep alright?âÂ
âNot really.â You say honestly. âNew place and all. Iâll settle in eventually.âÂ
âMaybe the Omega Specialist can give you some ideas to help.â He glances at his watch before looking at you as you spoon a heaping spoonful of porridge into your mouth. âTake your time. We have until 8.âÂ
You listen to the conversation at the table as you eat, Gaz and Soap talking about a football game thatâs on tonight. You feel eyes on you, your skin prickling a bit. You glance up, half expecting Ghost to be glowering at you again, but his gaze is focused on his eggs. You cast a quick glance around the mess, turning slightly to look behind you.Â
Three tables over, you find the gaze of some soldier focused on you. You havenât paid much attention to anyone else on the base, but then again you havenât had much time or reason to yet. You canât read the expression on his face as he stares at you, but you feel a shiver run down your spine as your eyes meet his.Â
He stares at you for a few seconds before his gaze moves slightly past you, quickly dropping back to his plate. You turn around, finding Ghost staring just past your head. His eyes are narrowed, his scent coming off stronger than it had been. You can practically see his hackles raised, the warning clear in the air. You feel the urge to curl in on yourself, the threatening aura radiating from him makes you want to cower.Â
It doesn't go unnoticed by those at the table either.Â
âEasy, Ghost.â Price says calmly, Gaz turning to follow his line of sight.Â
âBloody wanker.â Ghost grumbles before rising from the table.Â
You turn back around, but the soldier that had been staring at you is gone.Â
You nervously pick at your sweatshirt sleeves as you sit in the plastic chair next to Price. Youâre still on edge a bit from what happened at breakfast. It wasnât so much being stared at that bothered you. After now three meals in the mess, youâve almost come to expect it. Itâs Ghostâs reaction that has your mind still reeling.Â
âIâve always hated the medical center.â Price says with a sigh as he leans his head back against the wall. âIt smells too sterile. Makes my nose burn. Reminds me of too many close calls.âÂ
His words jar you a bit. You hadnât even thought about that aspect of his job. Heâs used to getting shot at, to getting into fights, running head first into danger that would send most running the other way. You wonder how many times heâs been the one with the close call, and how many others heâs had to watch have their own.Â
You wonder how many times heâs had to make that trip to tell someoneâs family.Â
Youâre pulled from your thoughts as the door across from you opens. Price pushes himself to his feet, and you follow as a kind looking woman steps out. You breathe a quiet sigh of relief. You donât have anything against male Omega Specialists, but you were already surrounded by men. Sure you have Kate, but sheâs half a world away.Â
Sheâs tall, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Despite being a doctor sheâs dressed casually, no white coat or gloves to be seen. Her eyes are light green and crease in the corners when she smiles.Â
âHello, Iâm Dr. Keller.â She introduces herself, shaking Priceâs hand.Â
American. You think, silently breathing another sigh of relief. Kate really had pulled some strings with this one.Â
âCaptain John Price.â He says.Â
You introduce yourself when she turns to you, shaking your hand. Her voice is soft and gentle, the scent of beta coming off her in waves.Â
âCome on in,â She says, leading you into the office. âSit anywhere you like. Make yourselves comfortable.âÂ
Her office isnât what you expected either. Instead of the harsh fluorescents, the lighting is softer, warmer. Thereâs paintings and posters all over the walls, along with several plants. Thereâs a desk covered in books and paperwork in one corner and a bookshelf with several books packed into it in the other. Thereâs a couch on one wall, and a couple plush looking chairs on the other.Â
You move to one of the chairs, sinking down onto it. It envelops you in softness, and you feel as if you might sink into it and never be able to get out. After a day of hard plastic and stiff blankets, it nearly makes you weep.Â
Price takes the chair next to you, Dr. Keller sitting on the couch across from you. The office smells good, a light, neutral scent in the air aside from the pure almondy scent of beta.Â
âAlright,â She says, holding a tablet and a stack of files in her lap. âI always like to start by introducing myself and telling you a bit about me, then weâll get into the important stuff.âÂ
She jumps into telling you about herself. Where she grew up: California. Where she studied: UC Berkeley. What institute she did her residency at: West Coast Training Academy. Where she worked last before Kate called her in: some poor inner city institute in LA.Â
âNow, on to the more important stuff.â She says, turning on the tablet. âI got your medical records yesterday. Youâre quite the healthy girl.âÂ
âYes ma'am. I have good genes. Thatâs what my mom used to say.â You respond.Â
Dr. Keller smiles. âHardly even been sick. Your heats are all normal, too, correct?âÂ
âYes, maâam.â You say. âExcept for a three month stretch two years ago.âÂ
âYes, the heat sickness epidemic that hit America.â She says.Â
You nod. âFIOT locked down completely and everyone was supposed to quarantine, but I heard a rumor that it was one of the beta food workers. She snuck out to see her alpha boyfriend and brought it in with her. We only think it was her because she disappeared not long after the first omega got sick.âÂ
Dr. Keller hums. âI know not everyone was so willing to take it seriously. You made a full recovery, though. No lasting side effects, Iâm sure thanks to the state of the art medical facilities that FIOT keeps.âÂ
âYes, maâam. We were lucky it was just a mild case.âÂ
âThat is lucky.â She flips through something on the tablet. âYour lab results all look phenomenal. I like to do checkups monthly, just to ensure everything is working as it should. I know the CIA gave you quite the cocktail of vaccines while you were with them.â She turns her gaze to Price. âCaptain Price, Iâve sent in a request for your teamâs vaccination records as well. Iâm sure youâve had everything under the sun, but Iâd like to ensure thereâs no risk of any accidental exposures.âÂ
âI donât see a problem with that.â Price says. âIf RAMC gives you any trouble, just let me know. Iâll get them for you myself.âÂ
âThank you, Captain.â She says. âOne last bit in this part and then we can move on. I see FIOT issued an implant before you left, as is standard practice.âÂ
You nod. âYes, maâam.âÂ
âGood. Youâve had more than enough time for it to take effect so we wonât have to worry about any accidental slip ups during your next heat.âÂ
Your cheeks warm at her words a bit. Youâve been trying to avoid thinking about that inevitable side of things.Â
âAnd your next heat is roughly six weeks away.â She says, looking at the calendar. âDon't be surprised if it comes a little earlier now that youâre being exposed to alphas again.âÂ
Your stomach twists nervously at that thought. It was common for heats to be triggered early after exposure to alphas, especially after such a prolonged period without exposure to them. It wasnât likely to start tomorrow, but you knew it could jump a week or two due to the natural pheromones alphas put off, and the instinctual call for the alpha/omega bond.Â
âYouâre planning for the claiming to take place during the heat?â Dr. Keller asks.Â
âYes, thatâs the plan.â Price says.Â
âThat is the most natural time for it.â Dr. Keller says. âOf course, it is always up to omega preference in the end.âÂ
You donât miss the way her eyes dart to you for a second.Â
âNow that thatâs over with,â She says, putting the tablet to the side. âIf itâs alright with you, Iâd like to do this next part with just the two of us.âÂ
A beat of silence passes before you realize sheâs asking you. Her eyes are on you, and so are Priceâs. Sheâs asking you. Sheâs asking you what you want.Â
âI-I guess...yeah.â You stutter over your words, not quite sure how to answer. Is there a wrong answer? Would Price be upset if you said yes? Would Dr. Keller be upset if you said no? Your eyes turn to Price, trying to gauge his reaction.Â
âItâs up to you.â He says softly. âWeâre here for you.âÂ
You sit up a little straighter at his words, nodding your head. âY-Yes. Thatâs okay.âÂ
Price pushes himself to stand up. âIâll be right outside.âÂ
The air inside the room seems to lighten as he leaves, Dr. Keller reclining back on the couch as the door clicks shut. She pulls out a stack of papers and a pen before she looks at you. Your palms are sweating, and youâre starting to think youâd like the chair to swallow you whole.Â
âThis next part can feel a bit personal, but I just want you to know that everything you say in here is as confidential as youâd like it to be. Captain Price is right. I am an Omega Specialist, Iâm here for you. Iâm not just a doctor, Iâm here to help you in all aspects of being an omega. I know FIOT teaches a lot, mainly obedience and compliance. I want to make it clear that you can be honest with me.â She holds up the stack of papers. âNo one is going to see these papers but me, alright?âÂ
âYes, maâam.â You nod.Â
âYou donât have to be so formal with me.â She smiles. âYou can call me Dr. Keller, or Doc. You could even call me an evil bitch if you want, it wonât phase me any.âÂ
You canât help the small smile that forms on your face.Â
âIâve got some questions Iâd like to ask you. Theyâre a sort of tracker to measure how well youâre settling in and bonding with your new pack. Iâd like to meet once a week until your next heat just to see how well youâre settling in. After that we can meet as often as youâd like. Sound good?âÂ
You nod in approval. It sounds like a lot, but you also know youâre going to have a lot of downtime, even with your pack on base.Â
âAlright, letâs get started. How are you settling in? I know itâs barely been a day, but I want to know how you feel here.âÂ
Your heart begins to pound in your chest. How do you feel here? How do you feel after being pulled from the institute and taken to a training facility where you found out youâd be moving halfway across the world to be a military packâs omega.Â
This wasnât what you had expected when you reached the age where you became an available omega. Most omegas at FIOT came from rich, powerful, important families and your purpose there was to be groomed into the perfect omega to return right back to that world.Â
You thought you would be chosen quickly. You had expected it. With your scores and your high ratings and your status, you were what most alphas dreamed of. Yet, the years had passed and though there was some interest, nothing had ever come of it. You werenât alone in it. There were others like you, those who excelled at being an omega, but then seemed to stall in the selection once they came of age.Â
Of course, now that you look back on it, you canât help but think it might have been done on purpose. The Omega Initiative was new, you had been told during your first briefing explaining why you were taken to a remote building somewhere outside of D.C. and greeted not by your new pack, but swathes of CIA agents. Military packs were nothing new, but they wanted to utilize the naturally formed packs and make them stronger and more stable by adding in omegas.Â
Only highly skilled omegas were considered for the program, but of course you had no say in whether you were going to partake or not. They chose the omegas and they decided where you would end up.Â
It wasnât that dissimilar from being chosen from an Institute. At FIOT there was a screening process packs had to go through to be determined eligible to have access to omega files. Then the pack would have to send a neutral emissary, usually a beta, to meet the omegas in person and choose on behalf of the alpha. Most institutes donât have that strenuous of a process, and some donât have a process at all. In some, alphas themselves could walk in and choose an omega without even so much as a background check.Â
Omegas never got a say. As soon as you were handed over to an institute, the ability to choose was taken from you. Whoever your caretakers were as a pup signed over their rights to you and the institute became your legal guardian. They dictated your life up until you joined a new pack.Â
You had hoped it would be someone rich. If nothing else, youâd get to live a cushy life and youâd never have to worry about anything. When they told you what was really going to happen to you, you had almost cried. You did cry, late at night curled up in your bunk after hours of training and briefings.Â
Kate picked you for this pack specifically because she knew them and she knew you could handle them and their world.Â
Maybe if you had been worse at being an omega, things would have been better for you.Â
Or maybe they would have been worse.Â
âItâs...different.â You finally say, picking at your sleeves again. âBut in a lot of ways, itâs similar to The Institute. It always takes me time to settle somewhere new.âÂ
âMe too.â Dr. Keller says, writing some things down. âAnd with the time change, itâs just so much harder. I feel like I should be in bed right now, but itâs 8 AM. Have you started nesting?âÂ
You shake your head. âNo. I donât even feel the urge to.âÂ
âThatâs fine.â She says, writing something else down. âIn truth, Iâd be more concerned if you were.âÂ
Your eyebrows raise a bit. âWhy?âÂ
âDuring an adjustment period for an omega, especially in a new pack, there can be something that happens called false instincts. The sudden urge to nest, a drive to bond with pack members too soon, false heats. Itâs usually brought on by a sudden change in environment, like when omegas are taken from a place where theyâve spent sometimes years with no exposure to alphas and are suddenly thrown into a space with a lot of alphas. Itâs more common in larger packs where you have alphas, betas, and other omegas.âÂ
âCould it happen in smaller packs?â You ask.Â
âItâs possible, though rare. It can cause some serious issues down the line when those instincts are actually supposed to begin to show up, like adjustment sickness. Iâd say if youâre starting to feel the urge to nest or bond before the first week is up, then come talk to me, alright?âÂ
âYes, maâam.â You nod.Â
She smiles, turning the page. âHow far have you gotten with the bonding process?âÂ
âJust the scenting yesterday.â You answer.Â
âAnd how did that go?âÂ
You pick at the loose thread on your sweatshirt. âFine. It was...overwhelming.âÂ
âThey can be.â Dr. Keller says. âThe new members of your pack, how are you getting along with them?âÂ
âFine, I guess.â You shrug. âI like Soap and Gaz. Price, heâs...heâs nice, and Ghost...â You trail off, not sure how to answer. If sheâd asked before breakfast you might have said he doesn't like you. He doesnât want you to be part of his pack, but after what happened at breakfast...
You canât be sure he did it for you. He could have thought that soldier was staring at Soap or Gaz or even Price. He could have thought the soldier was staring at him and was annoyed with it. He had scared off the stares at every meal youâd eaten together, but how often did they get stared at? You couldnât know if that was a daily occurrence and he was just growing sick of it.Â
He could be annoyed with you because youâre drawing in the stares.Â
âI donât know what to think about him yet.â You answer.Â
She writes something else down, going through a few more questions with you. How is your appetite? How are you sleeping? Are you taking care of your needs? Do you have any concerns?Â
Before you know it the hour has passed and youâre walking out the door into the fluorescent, sterile hallway of the medical center.Â
âRemember, you have my number. If you need anything, Iâm here for you.â Dr. Keller says as you part ways.Â
You walk with Price out of the medical center, glad to be out in the fresh air. Itâs not particularly warm, and the sun is hidden behind a layer of clouds, but itâs better than the medical center.Â
âWhat do you think?â Price asks as you follow him back to the barracks.Â
âI think it went well.â You say, mind still reeling from an eventful morning. Youâre beginning to feel your restless night.Â
âDo you like Dr. Keller?â He asks, probing a bit.Â
You nod. âYes, sir. Sheâs nice.âÂ
âGood.â He says, opening the door to the barracks for you. âI have to leave to oversee training for the next few hours.â He glances at his watch. âOne of us will come get you for lunch.âÂ
You nod. Of course youâd find yourself alone again between meals. Youâre beginning to notice a pattern. âYes, sir.âÂ
His hand is warm as it settles on your shoulder, squeezing gently. Youâre surprised by the touch, as small as it is. Were they too fighting the urge to get close to you, like you had this morning?Â
You can still feel the warmth of his hand even after itâs disappeared and heâs gone. You head for the rec room, deciding to avoid the constricting feeling of being shut in your room for the time being.Â
The TV is on when you enter, but the room is empty, playing some morning talk show. You move to the bookshelf against the wall, letting your eyes scan the titles. There's a surprising lack of military-based books shoved into the packed shelf. Of course there's a handful of old manuals and handbooks, nothing that you're particularly concerned about needing to read. You let out a sigh, standing on your toes to reach a Brandon Sanderson novel.Â
You look around the room but the remote for the TV seems to be missing, and itâs too high on the wall for you to reach the power button, so you leave it on, curling up on one corner of the couch as you begin to read.Â
Youâre not sure how much time has passed when something moves in your peripheral. The sun has come out briefly, shining in through the windows. You look up from the book, suddenly feeling very small under Ghostâs gaze. His eyes are narrowed as he stares down at you, a thousand things flashing through your mind. Are you in his spot? Is this his book? Had he come to the rec room hoping to be alone and here you are infringing in his space?Â
âCome on.â He says, his voice rougher than it had been this morning. âLunch.âÂ
Heâs already turned and heading out the door as you scramble up, leaving the book on the coffee table as you hurry to catch up to him. His steps are quick and wide, and you find yourself having to almost speedwalk to keep up with him.Â
Your thoughts are jumbled as you follow him out of the barracks and off towards the mess. Why would they send him to get you? Was he the only one available? Yesterday they had time before lunch to return to the barracks, or had that only been because of you? Or were they perhaps hoping this might offer a chance for the two of you to bond a bit?Â
Or were they entirely blind to Ghostâs disinterest in your existence?Â
Perhaps they were used to it. After so long together, perhaps they just thought it was normal. If you were brave enough to bring it up, would you get a âoh thatâs just how he isâ in response?Â
You canât see the others as you enter the mess, Ghost leading you to the line. He stands behind you like a hulking shadow, his scent covered by the smell of gunpowder and sweat. You fill your own tray for the first time, grabbing things that look appetizing. Youâll have to get used to it eventually, even though the others insisted on doing it for the time being. When theyâre not here, youâll have to do it yourself.Â
Ghost leads you to an empty table, and you opt to sit across from him. You begin to eat, taking big bites to avoid the need for conversation, not that you really thought Ghost would strike up a conversation with you. Your eyes flicker around the room nervously, glancing over the entrances time and time again, waiting for the others to arrive.Â
âStop twitching. Theyâre on their way.âÂ
The words cut straight through you and you snap your head around to face Ghost. Heâs got his mask pulled up to his nose, your eyes immediately drawn to the exposed pale skin. Thereâs light stubble on his chin. You remember how that had felt on your own skin when heâd scented you. Heâs blonde, you think, or at least has light hair judging by the color of the stubble. Thereâs a scar on his chin, almost hidden by the stubble.Â
Your face warms as you realize youâve been caught in your nervous fretting. Of course, you should have known he would take notice. Thereâs not a lot they donât notice, you think. Though, when your survival depends on noticing even the smallest detail of anything or anyone...
You jump as a tray is set down next to yours, your eyes snapping up to see Gaz with a smile on his face. You turn back to look at Ghost, his mask pulled back down but you see a slight shake to his shoulders for a second.
Was he...laughing at you?Â
Your attention is drawn from him as Gaz takes a seat next to you, sitting close enough his arm is almost brushing yours. Price and Soap taking their usual spots as well. Youâre beginning to pick up on the patterns that existed around them, and their own patterns. Perhaps that will make it easier for you to fit yourself into their lives. You knew from the start they werenât going to change to fit you into their lives. They couldnât. You were going to have to find a way to fit into their lives.Â
Gaz walks you back to the barracks after lunch, abnormally quiet as he watches you warily. He walks you to your door, leaning on the doorframe as you step inside.Â
âYou alright?â He asks, big brown eyes shining with worry as he looks you over.Â
âYeah.â You nod, shifting on your feet. âJust tired. I think I might take a nap.âÂ
He nods, and youâre sure he doesn't quite believe you, but he doesnât press any. âAlright. Happy napping.âÂ
You close the door as he leaves, sinking down onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. Itâs been a long day and itâs only lunch. Between the probing questions from Dr. Keller and the few minutes you had spent alone with Ghost you feel exhausted. It was good to know you werenât entirely broken in your lack of nesting instincts, and perhaps your turmoil with belonging in this place wasnât quite as abnormal as you thought.Â
What to do about Ghost.
Heâs said more words to you today than he did in the entirety of the previous day. In fact, you think today might be the first time heïżœïżœïżœs spoken to you at all. You know he doesnât approve of you, and youâd go so far as to say he doesnât like you. You can imagine he fought the hardest against you being added to the pack. They were fine without you. It didnât take a genius to see that.Â
Youâre an outsider. A civilian. A risk.Â
An unneeded disruption to their lives.Â
You pull your phone out of your pocket, staring at the dark screen. You know Ghost might never accept you. He wonât want to claim you, he wonât mate you, but...perhaps you might just get him to tolerate you.Â
You unlock your phone, sending a quick text to Kate.Â
âCan you get a book for me?â
You regret your decision momentarily as you step into the rec room. Gaz and Soap are lounged on the couch, beer bottles open on the coffee table. The TV is playing ads, their attention on each other. You almost feel as if youâre infringing upon a private moment as they laugh, half tempted to race back to your room and hide until your hunger draws you out or someone breaks down the door to get to you.Â
âHey!â Gazâs face lights up when he sees you, Soap turning to look at you.
âHey, bonny!â His face lights up with a smile.Â
âDo you mind if I join you?â You ask, shifting nervously on your feet.Â
âNot at all.â Gaz says, patting the empty spot on the couch next to him. âYou want a beer?âÂ
You shake your head. âNo thank you. Never could get past the taste.âÂ
Soap throws his head back as he laughs, slapping Gazâs shoulder. âI keep tellinâ ye!âÂ
âYet you keep drinking it!â Gaz attempts to defend himself.Â
âCause itâs thâ only thing we got!â Soap argues, leaning around Gaz to stare at you. âSo, ye a football fan, bonny?âÂ
âWell, I watched the World Cup a couple times as a kid.â You say. âMy household was more of an American football and baseball household. Two of my older brothers played soccer, though they never were very serious about it. Mostly just did it to fulfill my dadâs physical activity extracurricular requirement.âÂ
âWhat did you do to fulfill that requirement?â Gaz asks as he takes a sip of his beer.Â
âSoftball. I was...not good at it.â You laugh. âI could catch and throw, but I donât think I hit the ball a single time I was at bat.âÂ
Both of them chuckle, turning back to the TV as the ad ends. âDonât worry, weâll turn you into a proper football fan yet.â Gaz says.Â
You watch the game with them, and it doesnât take you long to realize theyâre rooting for opposing teams. They explain things to you here and there in between yelling at the TV and each other. Despite how loud they are, you find yourself relaxing further and further, the tension from the last two days easing away, even as the two betas yell at each other over a soccer game.Â
Gaz tenses for a second as he feels a sudden weight on his shoulder. He turns his head slightly, noticing youâve fallen asleep, your head drooping onto his shoulder. His lips quirk up in a smile as he gently nudges Soap.Â
âWha?â Soap asks, turning to look at him.Â
He jerks his head to the side, leaning back just slightly so Soap can see. A grin breaks out on the younger manâs face and he pulls out his phone. âAww, look aâ that. Think we should wake âer and get âer tae bed?âÂ
âNah.â Gaz says. âLet her sleep for now. She probably needs it.âÂ
You sleep soundly through overtime, Gaz not moving until the post game is over, letting you sleep as long as possible. He knows you have to be tired, after the last few days and the time difference. You looked tired today, with dark circles and droopy eyes. He hates to wake you, but he knows you canât sleep on the couch.Â
He nudges you gently, trying to rouse you. âHey.â He nudges you again, your head finally lifting off his shoulder.Â
You blink sleepily, rubbing at your eyes. You make a quiet sound in protest of being awake, eyes drooping closed again.Â
âCome on, love.â He says, keeping you upright. âItâs time for bed.âÂ
You cover your yawn with your hand, blinking at him sleepily. âBed?â You murmur sleepily, Gaz smiling softly at how adorable you are in this state.Â
âYeah, youâll be more comfortable in bed.â He pushes himself to stand, hands on your arms to pull you up.Â
You make another sound in protest, nearly falling against his chest when he gets you on your feet. He wraps an arm around you, letting you lean on him as he guides you back to bed, Soap cleaning up the mess they had made.Â
Youâre more awake once you get to your door, blinking up at him with bleary eyes. ââS fun.â You murmur, rubbing your eyes. âShould do that more often.âÂ
âYouâre always welcome to join us.â He says. âGet some rest. Youâve had a long week.â He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. âNight, love.âÂ
He waits until your door is closed before heading back down the hallway towards the rec room, a small smile on his face.Â
NEXT ->
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#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#141 x reader#task force 141 x reader#poly 141#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#john mactavish x reader#soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#a/b/o#alpha beta omega dynamics
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READ THIS EARLIER WHILE I WAS STANDING IN LINE AT A PHARMACY AND. OUGH. AVERY. AVERY. YOU.
â± Û« Ś
⧠FLESH AND BLOOD â platonic douma & reader !
synopsis. doumaâs child knows there is only one way to truly escape: killing their father. warnings. kny-typical blood, death & yknow... eating people. knives, threats of violence. unhealthy family dynamics. douma is his own warning tbh. notes. PLATONIC. (terrible) father figure!douma. gn!reader. they/them used. angst. 3.6k words. read warnings pls! @romaritimeharbor you were right, i couldn't write a happy ending. this man was made for horror, not fluff.
Every step [Name] takes is heavy.
Thereâs a knife strapped to their belt, hidden under several layers of clothing. They swiped in from the kitchens one night on a whim, sneaking behind two chefs who were too engrossed in an argument about spices to notice them. Once they leftâwith neither chef noticing them at allâthey took to work fashioning a strap to attach it to their belt, and tucked it under their clothes. When they were finished, it swung on their hip, occasionally bumping against their thigh if they ran too quickly. Secure, but still accessible; exactly how they wanted it.
It isnât the most ideal weapon. They havenât had enough experience wielding it to even know what to do with it if their situation called for a fight, but it hangs by their side like an anchor. The slight pressure, with the glint of metal separated from their skin by a single layer of fabric, grounds them.
Every night, they make sure the edge is sharpened, before tucking it under their pillow with one hand slotted underneath. Idly, their fingers trace the edge of the handle, prepared to close around it should they wake up to an attack.
And yet, even with the care they have to make sure the knife is always close to their side, they have never once used it. Itâs a safeguard more than anything else; a reminder that no matter what happens in the lionâs den they call a home, they are ready and prepared to fight their way out to safety. It didnât need to be withdrawn; a simple pat to their side to make sure the weapon was still safely attached to their belt was enough to steady their nerves.
As they walk through the halls with feather-light footsteps, their heartbeat pounds with the wings of a hummingbird. They force their breath to even out into a steady pattern, squeezing their hands into fists to stop them from shaking. They were not the apex predator in this place, but theyâd be damned if they were reduced to mere prey.
Through the halls of their home, they pass countless faces that greet them with big smiles and waves. They donât stop for a single one, only nodding slightly and murmuring a greeting for each. One woman in particular gasps as she sees them, peeling away from her group to catch their arm as they walk by.
âAh, [Name]! I was speaking with Lord Douma earlier, and he requested that you join him for dinner tonight!â The woman smiles brightly at them. They bite back a sharp retort, instead forcing a smile.
âIf you see him again, tell my father that I might be late,â they say smoothly. The words feel like poison on their tongue, but they spit them out anyway.
Father was once a word they used with pride. It was babbled through lips that barely knew the sounds they were making, but the title was met with a blinding smile. Douma seemed to take pride in the word as well, if the way he scooped them into his arms every time they called him it was any indication. Heâd press his cheek to their hair, squeezing them against his chest like they were a stuffed toy. A laugh, brimming with almost childlike glee, and an excited, âYes, yes, thatâs it! Iâm your father, and youâre my darling little child.â
They were happy as his child, for a long time. It didnât matter that he wasnât their family by blood; he was the one to take them in when they were only a baby, giving them all they could ever want or need and spoiling them beyond comprehension. He adored them, more than anything. That was what he promised, at least.
Their childhood was happy, as happy one can be when raised in a cult. The followers loved them as much as they loved Douma himself, showering them with attention and gifts when he wasnât there to give them it instead. [Name] learned to look past the smiles, to not get attached to the voices that spoke their name with reverence, because it was almost never the same face that greeted them twice. It didnât matter too much, because Douma was always there to fill the gaps with his warm embraces.
But they grew older, as children do, and the haze of paradise slowly cleared. The mysteries of their youth that once felt like exciting secrets to unearth began to weigh on them, and they found themself pestering Douma with endless questions. Questions like âWhy do people keep disappearing?â and âWhatâs beyond the Eternal Paradise?â
To their frustration, his responses were vague and dismissive, never leaving them satisfied. The only answers they received were âTheyâve achieved Paradise.â and âNothing. There is nothing worth seeing beyond here.â
Douma always said they were naturally inquisitive, but that burning desire for answers only brewed a frustration in their chest that never seemed to be quelled by his distant answers. He was hiding things, they could see it on his face. There were too many things that he kept secret to be coincidence, too many details that didnât add up.
Their fervent pursuit of answers led to one place: the door at the end of main hall. It was locked at all times, the only place they were forbidden from entering. Douma was especially serious when he informed them the room was off limits, his eyes turning sharp when he questioned him about it.
âThis is my home and yours, and you are free to roam everywhere else, but that place isnât for you, little one.â
The words might have deterred them as a child, but they couldnât let their curiosity fester any longer.
There was one key that opened every lock in the cult, hidden in a secret compartment in the main room that Douma didnât think they knew about. One night as slipped through the door and locked it behind him, they stole the key, slipping it in the lock and turning the handle.
The first thing they noticed was red. It covered the room, spilling across his table, dripping steadily on his tiled floors and splattering across the walls in an angry scarlet. The second thing they noticed was that their father was covered in it. The colour was smeared across his face, trickling from his lips and down his chin. It stained his robes and coated his hands, but he barely noticed; he was too busy swiping his tongue across his lips to soak up the excess droplets.
Among the carnage was the lifeless figure of a woman, her body mangled and thrown carelessly at his feet. Douma himself was lounging on a chair, his legs crossed, unbothered by the nightmarish scene surrounding him. One of his hands clasped a severed arm, bringing it to his teeth and tearing off a chunk of flesh. He hummed as he ate, licking his lips like he was savouring the taste.
In all their years of growing up by his side, theyâd watched as Douma had ignored the gifts of food his followers brought him, yet now, now he seemed to find his appetite. Their skin crawled, memories of rejected meals and his claims of already eating echoing in their ears. When he locked himself in the room, was this what he was doing? Was this where their missing followers ended up?
They clutched their arm, pressing their nails hard enough to leave marks against their skin. The sight was something out of their worst nightmares, yet the sting of pain was a sharp reminder that it was reality. Nausea bubbled up in their stomach, but they forced it down long enough to close the door with a quiet click and lock it again.
They never confronted him after that day. They could barely look him in the eye long enough to do so. But one thing was clear: as long as he lived, they and all of the followers of the Eternal Paradise faith were in danger.
Their hand brushed against their hip. The cold press of metal through their clothes eased their nerves.
A proper fighter would have a sword, and use it to slice his head clean off, but they would have to make do with a simple kitchen knife. Eventually the moment would present itself, eventually he would be off his guard, and they would have the chance to ambush him. The edge of the blade was sharp, all it would take is one slice across his throat and his life would be snuffed out.
They ignored the nagging part of them that told them it wouldnât be enough, that Douma had to be something inhuman, something powerful, something that took more than a slit throat to kill. It whispered that a creature so heartless that it would slaughter and consume innocent humans couldnât possibly be an ordinary mortal being.
They especially ignored the part of them that blanched at even the thought of harming him, the man that brought them in and doted on them every day of their life. That was the part that wished they could go back and never look through the door, maintaining a fragile bliss that wasnât wrought with fear and uncertainty; the part that urged them to forget, to close their eyes and let him be their adoring father again.
Their footsteps haltered as they approached the open doorway that led to the main room of the building. Even the entrance was ornately decorated, with delicately painted screens separating it from the rest of the rooms.
âIs someone there?â A voice called out sharply. Their breath caught in their throat, and they patted their side instinctively. With a careful glance around the door, they saw him, sitting in the centre of the elaborate room on his usual cushioned seat.
âAre you hiding?â Douma asks, his eyes glinting with something dark and unreadable. He leans his head on his hand, smiling at where they are half-concealed behind the doorway. âMy child, is that you? Come on out, donât be shy.â
There was no point trying to pretend they werenât there. With a deep breath, they step into the light.
âIt is my child!â He laughs, in a voice that could be mistaken for delight. If they were a little younger they would have beamed at the sound, but their maturity had earned them the skill of seeing right through his cheery demeanour. â[Name], have you come to visit me?â
âYes.â They say stiffly, forcing a neutral expression. They ignored the way his smile softened; it was a lie, it had to be.
âArenât I a lucky father?â Douma pauses to wipe away a fake tear, the sight making something curl uncomfortably in their gut. He pats the area beside his chair. âCome, sit down.â
When they were a babyâback when the brightness of his smile felt genuineâhe would sit them on his lap, letting them play with his fans while he spoke to his followers. They were too old for that now, so instead they tiptoe inside and settle beside the chair, sitting with their knees tucked to their chest.
âHow are you today, [Name]? It feels like forever since weâve caught up.â Douma asks them as they sit, smiling over at them. They pick at the edge of their clothing, not meeting his eye.
âWhat does the writing in your eyes mean?â They suddenly ask, instead of answering.
âCurious today, are we?â Douma chuckles. He taps his nail just below his right eye. âIâm sure you know what this one is.â
They nod, recognizing the numeral. âItâs⊠two, right?â
âYes, it is! Such a smart child I have.â Doumaâs grin widens, and he points the other one. âWhat about this one?â
They squint at his eye, observing the thin brushstrokes over the rainbow-coloured iris. It wasnât a character they recognized, even after their studies. âI donât know.â
âThis oneââ Douma tapped his nail against his skin. âIs a combination of two characters. Together it means Upper Rank.â
âUpper RankâŠ?â They echo. âUpper Rank Two? What does that mean?â
âItâs my ranking.â Douma hums, not bothering to explain further. âIs it my turn to ask a question now?â
Their posture stiffens. âIf you want.â
Douma clapped his hands together. âOh, how fun! What to ask⊠what to askâŠâ
He pauses to think, tapping his finger on his chin. âOh, I have one! What have you been doing with your days?â Douma leans his head on his hand with a smile. âIâve barely seen you recently. You used to spend so much time with me.â
They swallow down the anxiety that bubbled up at his question. The truthful answer was that they had been carefully avoiding his room, not bothering to stop by unless they were called specifically. The rest of their days were spent sneaking around, scoping out potential escape routes, or making sure their knife was sharp and ready to kill.
âJust⊠things.â They say vaguely.
Douma stares at them with a pleasantly puzzled expression. âThingsâŠ?â
âYes.â
âHow fascinatingly mundane!â
âI guess Iâm just a boring person.â They shrug.
âAnd what about that knife youâve been carrying around, hm?â Douma asks, his smile not faltering, even as their heart stopped. âI would love to know what youâre planning with that one!â
His eyes are crinkling with the force of his smile, but there is no warmth behind it. They narrow their own eyes, quickly rising to their feet and taking a step backwards. His gaze tracks their every movement, following their hand as they fumble at their belt to pull out the knife from their makeshift sheath.
âGuess.â Their hands shake, but the ready the weapon anyway. âTake a guess as to what Iâm planning with it.â
One slice at his throat. One slit, and heâs dead. One cut, and this whole nightmare will end, and he will never be able to hurt anyone again. This was what they'd been preparing for.
âAre you going to kill me?â Douma coos, standing from his chair and grinning. âHow adorable!â
âSh-Shut up!â They hiss, gripping the handle tighter. âI know what you did! I know about that poor woman, the one you murdered and devoured! How many followers have you killed, huh? Was I next? Have you just been raising me like a pig for slaughter?â
âOh.â A tilt of his head, and a saddened expression that looked⊠almost real. Almost. They tighten their grip on the blade, reprimanding themself for nearly falling for his act. It wasnât real, none of it was. They couldnât forget that, no matter how hurt his expression looked. âI donât want to kill you, my child.â
âI donât believe you!â They yell back.
Douma tilts his head to look at them, his face still twisted in that same mask of pity. He took one step towards them, then another, until they were face to face. Before they could blink, his hand was gripping their wrist tight enough to bruise.
âIâm not going to kill you, [Name].â He says sadly, twisting their wrist to seize the knife and holding it up out of their reach. âI am not going to hurt you, nor am I going to let anything else hurt you. It makes me sad that you canât see that.â
âYouâre a monster.â They hiss, their eyes filled with tears. They stumble a few steps back, putting some semblance of distance between them.
Douma chuckles slightly. âAnd youâre my child. What does that make you?â
They flinch as if he had struck them, stumbling back even further at his words. âI am nothing like you!â
âArenât you?â Douma says, his voice thick and sweet like honey. âOh, we arenât related by blood but I raised you from birth. Why do you think I would spare such a frail creature like yourself, if I didnât see a part of myself in you? Weâre cut from the same cloth, you and I. Youâre my child, through and through.â
âIâm nothing like you!â They cry out. âYouâre a murderer!â
âYet youâre the one who was plotting my death.â He waves the kitchen knife in front of their face with amusement dancing on his lips. âThat sounds an awful lot like the work of a murderer to me.â
âThatâs different.â
âIs it though? Itâs still homicide.â
âIt was self-defence!â
Douma chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. âKilling me isnât self-defence if I havenât laid a hand on you. Iâm afraid thatâs just called murder.â
âYouâreââ Their words died in their throat. No matter how cruel he sounded saying them, he was right. They were planning to kill him. Maybe they were no better than him after all. âYouâre⊠youâre a monster⊠I had to kill you. Before⊠you killed me. That was why I had the knife.â
âOh, Iâm afraid this little thing wouldnât do much,â Douma laughs as he waves the weapon. With a smile, he drew back the sleeve of his robe and pressed the edge of the knife to the back of his arm. He drags the blade across it, smiling serenely as a line of bright red blood drips down his skin. In seconds the cut is knitting itself back together, leaving only a stain of scarlet over his fully healed skin. âItâs adorable that you thought you could hurt me, but simple weapons like these donât leave a scratch on me.â
Their heart stopped, watching the mark smooth out and fade into nothing.
It⊠didnât matter. All the nights of cutting their fingers of the edge in their haste to make sure it was still under their pillow didnât matter. The comforting weight at their side wasn't worth anything; it never would have achieved a thing in the first place.
They were a sheep wandering around the den of a wolf, confidently thinking their blunt hooves would be enough to pierce its hide. A painful feeling washed over themâpowerlessness.
Their eyes began to burn, along with their chest. As quickly as the rush of adrenaline filled their body, it left, knocking all the air out of their lungs. Tears slowly started dripping down their cheeks, quietly at first, before they were followed by heaving sobs.
âI do love you, my child.â Douma sighs. Lie, it was a lie. âI wish you wouldnât have done something like this. I was so happy to watch you grow up, content keeping you alive and human. Now what am I to do?â
Their shoulders hitch, hands scrubbing desperately at their eyes. There was a calculating glint in his eyes, before Douma stepped forward again and pulled them into a cold embrace.
âWhat am I to do with youâŠâ Douma muses, holding them against his chest as they sobbed. The front of his robes were covered in tears and snot but he paid it no mind, just sighing softly and running his fingers through their hair. âMy poor childâŠâ
The feeling of his fingers through their hair made them shiver. Were his nails always so sharp, or was his touch just soft enough to hide it?
âWhat was your plan?â Douma pulls them away to look at their face properly, a sparkle of amusement in his eye. âWhere were you going to go, after you killed me, hm? You know thereâs nothing out there for you. No one would want to take in a murderer, especially one who killed their own father in cold blood.â
âI would have found somewhere.â They mumble, slowing their sobs to quiet sniffles.
Douma shook his head fondly, like they were discussing something trivial. âOh, my sweet child, who put such an idea in your head? There is nowhere you can go. Here, it is safe. Here is happy. Why would you ever leave?â
They wanted to scream their anguish, kicking and clawing at him until his face was red and bloody. This manâno, this monster masqueraded as a loving father for years, all while blood spilled behind his gilded doors. But the saccharine sweetness that his voice carried wormed its way into their ears, poisoning their thoughts andâ
Such a disappointing, ungrateful child they must be. He welcomed them into his arms, and they were planning toâ
Their mind was split. All of their instincts screamed at them to run, run until their lungs burned and their feet bled, but there was a gnawing part of them that clung to his honeyed words. At least when they were in his favour they were safe; they could turn away from the truth and cling to their fractured picture of family. Maybe if they fell to their knees and begged him for forgiveness, he would forget all about their betrayal and welcome them as his child again.
They werenât anywhere near strong enough to kill him. The least they could do was survive.
âWhat do you have to say for yourself, [Name]?â Douma asks gently, and something in them snaps.
They fall forward, burying their face in his chest and clutching onto the back of his robes with a wail. âIâm sorry! Iâm sorry, Iâm sorry, Iâm sorry!â
âThatâs what I thoughtâŠâ Douma sighs in almost amusement. He places his hand on the top of their head, ruffling their hair gently.
âIâm sorry⊠Iâll never do it again, I promise. Please⊠please donât leave me! I donât know what I would be without you,â they cry, the words spilling out so easily they canât tell if theyâre a lie or not.
It wasnât the end. One day his guard would drop and they would seize the chance, taking everything they own and running away into the night. They will run, not knowing where they will end up but knowing they need to be anywhere but there. Even if it means spending the rest of their life shying away from dark corners and patting their side to check on their weapon, they will escape.
For now, they weep in the arms of their father.
© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.
#â§â aphe's recommendations.#NO WORDS.#fact that he doesn't kill them goes SO hard. avery you cooked here. you get him. this is the douma fic ever#i feel like people often forget that about douma. like. he was never going to kill kotoha. he was perfectly content with her alive#he probably *still* wouldn't have killed her if she didn't absolutely FREAK when she found out what douma was doing#(not that i blame her bc girl i would lose my shit too... absolutely terrifying)#makes me want to keep writing my douma fic grrrr#maybe i'll split mine into 2 chapters so i feel less overwhelmed & intimidated by it HAHAH#BUT ANYWAYS#DUDE.... AVERY.........#they are so so so pathetic to him and you captured that perfectly#like he's so mocking and belittling towards them in that overly saccharine and fond way#like you NAILED that!!!!#âDouma chuckles slightly. âAnd youâre my child. What does that make you?ââ#GAGGED. SILENCED. I HAVE BEEN QUIETED.#[name] is so cooked dude..... they are so done for. that's it. argument over. douma got them. No coming back from that one fr#douma is so perfect for psychological horror. like he doesn't even have to do anything physically harmful ever +#+ to feel intimidating. he's so perfect for this style of fic.#âPlease⊠please donât leave me! I donât know what I would be without youâ#nothing. unspoken answer to that is *nothing.*#fuck douma all my homies hate douma!!!!! (<- me and the homies are writing so many fics about him)
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