#i literally had to take a break and pace around my room with my hands clasped behind my back as soon as i saw his face my GOD
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i genuinely feel sick. this was so sick of them. oh my god
#TRIP...................................MY BOYFRIEND.............................................................#SOBS SO HARD MY HEAD EXPLODES#winter watches agents of shield#i know i have been so on and off about sitting down and watching through this show but im finally buckling down and finishing this season.#and then they hit me with ANTOINE TRIPLETT MY LITERAL BOYFRIEND???????????????????????????????#LIKE THEY CAN JUST EXPECT ME TO BE OKAY ??????????#i literally had to take a break and pace around my room with my hands clasped behind my back as soon as i saw his face my GOD#this is cruel. diabolical even.
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Love 119 [Part Two]
part of my paramedic!jungwon series. [part one] [part three]
pairing: paramedic!jungwon x doctor!reader genre: enemies at work, lovers at home. secret dating. jungwon is hot when jealous, suggestive, fluff summary: your coworkers think that you and niki look cute together while jungwon, your boyfriend is literally standing next to you and it's driving him insane. word count: 3.5k author's note: hey everyone! as promised, i'm here to serve another paramedic jungwon brainrot because it's not fair to just devour this cutesy alone. enjoy and leave some notes <3 read part 1 first and reply if you want to get tagged for the next parts!
You’re midway through a lukewarm coffee in the hospital cafeteria when your coworker leans in, voice low and eyes gleaming with intrigue. “So…” she starts, drawing the word out slowly, “who’s the lucky guy?”
It takes you a second, but the question sinks in just as she tilts her head, nodding toward your neck with a smirk. Your hand instinctively rises to the spot Jungwon’s lips had claimed last night, right at the juncture of your neck and shoulder—a parting gift as you’d curled up together, something you didn’t think twice about until now.
A blush surges to your cheeks. “What? Oh, no, that’s… I scratched it too hard,” you say quickly, heat rising not only from the surprise but the memory of last night—Jungwon’s sleepy grin, the way he’d pulled you close, whispering in your ear as he pressed soft kisses down the curve of your neck.
“Sure you did,” she teases, crossing her arms as her smirk widens. “You’re going to need a better excuse than that. So… is it Niki?”
“What?” you laugh, the idea so out of the blue it’s almost comical. “Niki? Why would you even think that?”
She shrugs, the smugness on her face never faltering. “You always have a soft spot for him. You never scold him like the rest of us. Plus, everyone’s seen the way he hovers around you in the halls, he’s clearly smitten.”
Your eyes widen at the notion. Niki, your young, eager junior who fumbles his way through shifts and who you can’t help but look after because he’s new and a little too starry-eyed for his own good? It’s laughable. “It’s not like that,” you manage, shaking your head. “He’s just… young, that’s all.”
“Mhmm,” she says with a knowing chuckle. “Sure, if you say so.”
Before you can protest further, your phone vibrates. Glancing down, you find a message from Jungwon: a photo of his lunch, neatly arranged with a sweet message beneath it. “Eat well, ily.”
The casual intimacy of it makes your stomach flip, and you feel an involuntary smile tugging at your lips. You quickly swipe away the notification, hoping she didn’t see the smile or the faint hearts in your eyes.
The day unfolds in the usual rush of patient check-ins, chart updates, and emergency calls. You busy yourself to the point where the cafeteria conversation drifts from your mind—until you catch a glimpse of yourself in the break room mirror and spot the faint outline of that now-infamous hickey, the concealer having barely managed to mask it. You tug your collar higher, hoping to hide it through the rest of the shift.
The afternoon in the ER has been a blur of movement and urgency, leaving you barely a moment to breathe. Every time an ambulance pulls up, your heart skips a beat, half-hoping, half-dreading that it’ll be Jungwon walking through those doors.
But each time, it’s someone else, and you return to the steady rhythm of your work, instructing Niki at your side as he follows your lead. Despite the tense environment, he’s attentive and focused, learning from you as he manages each step of the patient’s treatment with remarkable ease.
Afterward, you and Niki head back to the department office, the adrenaline settling as you both chat lightly, unwinding from the chaotic pace. As you enter, you spot Jungwon down the corridor, heading the other way with a stack of documents.
It’s almost comical how, even amidst the bustling hospital, his presence stands out so starkly to you. For a split second, he glances your way, and the fleeting moment feels charged, pulling your attention and making it impossible to look away. But as soon as your eyes meet, you glance down, hoping no one notices how that brief connection leaves your pulse racing.
Once back at your desk, you feel your coworkers’ eyes on you, their curious glances flickering between you and Niki. You try to brush it off as nothing, settling into your usual seat, with Niki across from you. Just as you’re starting to sift through some files, Jungwon’s familiar stride enters the department office.
His easy confidence fills the room, and he greets everyone with that understated charm, heading to a nearby colleague to ask for specific documents. You’re not even looking at him, but his presence is impossible to ignore. You focus on your papers, hoping that looking busy might steady your nerves, but the pages blur in front of you, your mind too distracted by the fact that he’s just a few steps away.
Then, just as you’re juggling a pile of documents, you accidentally knock over your iced coffee. The mostly empty cup clatters over, spilling what’s left onto your coat. The moment the coffee splashes onto your coat, Niki and Jungwon are both at your side in an instant. Niki’s quick to pull out a box of tissues, while Jungwon silently holds out a pristine handkerchief, a touch of annoyance already flickering in his gaze.
Caught off-guard, you instinctively reach for Niki’s tissues, leaving Jungwon standing there with his handkerchief, his jaw tightening slightly as he watches you dab at the stain.
Your coworkers notice the scene and immediately latch onto it, their laughter filling the room. "Oh, come on, you two," one of them teases, grinning at the pair of you. "Why don’t you just date already?”
Another chimes in, "Yeah, it’s obvious there’s something going on. I mean, look how attentive Niki is—always ready to help you out."
You wave them off, laughing it away, but the teasing only grows louder. Someone else playfully nudges Niki. "What’s next, bringing her coffee in the morning?"
Niki laughs, scratching the back of his head, visibly flustered. "Come on, guys, we’re just… coworkers," he insists, though his blush only adds fuel to the fire.
Meanwhile, you can feel Jungwon’s gaze on you, sharper and more intense than ever. His silence speaks volumes; the usual relaxed confidence he carries seems to be tinged with something harder, a jealousy that simmers just beneath the surface. It unsettles you, tugging at something guilty inside as the teasing around you grows.
Suddenly, Jungwon steps forward to you, interrupting the chatter with a clipped tone. "Enough with the tissues,” he says, leveling his gaze at you, a glint of challenge in his eyes. "Stop fussing with that coat—you’re only making it worse. Change into something clean, or the smell will stick with you all day.”
The room falls silent, your coworkers exchanging amused glances. You roll your eyes, unwilling to let him get the last word.
“Oh, thank you, Mr. Practicality. I can handle a few drops of coffee,” you retort, folding your arms and meeting his gaze with a defiant tilt of your chin.
He raises an eyebrow, a slow smirk forming on his lips.
"Right, because dealing with a coffee stain is something you’re well-prepared for," he says dryly, folding his arms to match yours. "Clearly, practicality isn’t your strong suit."
You scoff, refusing to back down. "And since when did you become an expert in coffee stain management? It’s barely noticeable, and I’m perfectly fine with it."
Jungwon’s gaze doesn’t waver, the challenge sparking between you both as he leans in just a fraction, his voice lower. "Just because you’re fine with it doesn’t mean everyone else is." His eyes flick down to the stain and then back up to yours, a knowing glint in them.
Your coworkers are watching with raised brows, amused but also visibly intrigued by the tension between the two of you. "Are we interrupting something?” one of them jokes, breaking the silence. "Honestly, the way you two bicker is like a married couple."
The comment makes you blush, but Jungwon doesn’t flinch. Instead, he holds your gaze, his smirk deepening. "At least one of us knows how to handle these little emergencies,” he quips, voice steady, though there’s a hint of something raw behind his eyes—a hint of jealousy that only you can catch. The way he’s looking at you, there’s no mistaking it: he’s anything but amused by the teasing around Niki.
But before you can respond, Niki steps forward, awkwardly placing his coat over your chair. “Um, here,” he says, clearly trying to ease the tension. “You can wear mine for now if the coffee’s bothering you that much.”
The room erupts into more laughter, someone nudging Niki with a grin. "See? He’s a gentleman. Really, you two should just make it official."
Another coworker teases, "Or maybe they already have, and they’re just not telling us."
Jungwon’s expression hardens as he watches the exchange, his eyes narrowing. His gaze flickers from Niki to you, a frustration simmering beneath his calm facade.
You feel the tension growing, an almost tangible weight of jealousy in the way his jaw clenches, his fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh.
Finally, he speaks up, cutting through the laughter with a controlled but slightly irritated tone. "Enough of the matchmaking." His gaze falls pointedly on you, something possessive flickering there, though he masks it quickly. "And you should change. That coffee smell won’t just vanish."
You narrow your eyes at him, refusing to back down. "If it bothers you so much, why don’t you bring me a change of clothes yourself?"
"Thanks," he says shortly, taking the stack of paperwork with a polite nod. He turns back to you and your coworkers, offering a quick, “See you all later. Take care, everyone.” His voice is casual, but as his gaze lingers on you for a fraction of a second longer, you feel the weight of everything left unsaid.
With that, Jungwon strides toward the door, his usual self-assured calm back in place. You watch him leave, but just as he reaches the exit, your phone buzzes in your hand. You glance down, your pulse quickening as you read the message from him:
“I have something you can change into in the back of the car.”
It’s simple, yet there’s something about it that makes your stomach flip. You glance up just in time to catch Jungwon’s silhouette disappearing down the hallway, feeling the tension of the moment linger in the air long after he’s gone.
The rest of your shift rolls by with its usual demands, and you brush off the incident from earlier, deciding against getting the change of clothes Jungwon offered. By the time you finally clock out, the sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the nearly empty parking lot. Just as you step out of the hospital doors, Jungwon’s car pulls up in front of the exit.
You feel a small smile tugging at your lips as you walk over and slip into the passenger seat. “Hey,” you greet him, but his focus remains straight ahead, his hands firm on the wheel, his paramedic uniform clinging to his form. The sight of him in that navy blue uniform, complete with the badge and patches, usually makes your heart race, but today his expression is unreadable. A flicker of surprise hits you. Jungwon, who is usually quick with a playful remark, doesn’t even turn his head as you settle in, leaving you feeling a bit deflated.
You tilt your head, watching him closely, noticing the slightest crease of annoyance in his brow. With a slight pout, you try breaking the ice, “So, how was your day?”
He answers, but his tone is clipped, barely more than a few words. "Busy. The usual."
You blink, feeling a hint of tension in the air. Normally, he’d be cracking jokes or filling the car with easy chatter, but now he’s focused on the road with a seriousness that feels almost uncharacteristic.
Leaning back in your seat, you give him a sideways glance. “Is this about the clothes?” you finally ask, crossing your arms as you look at him. “Are you upset I didn’t change into them?”
A quick denial. “No,” he says, a bit too fast, but still refusing to look your way.
You can’t help but smile a little, noticing his hands gripping the wheel tighter than usual. “Uh-huh. Doesn’t sound like you’re not upset,” you tease, leaning forward to get a better look at his face.
“I’m not upset,” he repeats, but he’s biting his lip, eyes fixed stubbornly ahead as if he’s hyper-focused on the road. His brow furrows, and he lets out a soft sigh.
“Come on, Jungwon, it’s cute when you sulk,” you say, your smile widening at the way his jaw clenches ever so slightly, revealing his irritation in the most subtle way.
This finally gets a reaction. He glances at you, his eyes narrowing just a little. “I’m not sulking,” he mumbles, but the denial lacks its usual conviction.
“You look pretty sulky to me,” you murmur, enjoying the rare moment of catching him off guard.
Just then, the car comes to a stop at a red light, and you glance over to find him holding a long breath, his expression somewhere between frustration and fondness. The tension in the air shifts slightly as he turns his gaze towards you, and in that moment, you feel the familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach.
Without breaking eye contact, he places his right hand gently on your lap, rubbing small circles with his thumb. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, igniting that familiar spark between you two. It’s a simple gesture, yet it feels so intimate, especially with the way he’s staring at you as if he’s trying to convey everything he can’t say out loud.
He resumes driving as the light turns green, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but his voice softens, a hint of vulnerability slipping through the usual bravado. “I’m not upset,” he assures you, though the sincerity behind his words hints at something deeper, something he’s wrestling with beneath the surface.
You can’t help but smile at him, the weight of his earlier mood lifting slightly. “Then what’s with the whole silent treatment? You know you can just tell me, right?”
Jungwon shakes his head, a faint smile creeping onto his face despite his mood.
“It’s more complicated than that,” he says, his voice maintaining a lightness that’s undercut by an earnest edge. “I don’t want to be the guy who gets all worked up over people assuming you and Niki are a thing.”
You bite your lip, the realization sinking in that his jealousy is more about their perceptions than the spilled coffee earlier.
“Well, I’m definitely not dating Niki,” you reply softly, trying to ease his tension. “He’s just a good coworker. You know that.”
He glances at you briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smile as he focuses back on the road.
“Good,” he mutters, his hand still gently rubbing your thigh, sending tingles coursing through you. The intimacy of the gesture makes your heart race.
He passes another intersection and accelerates, the car moving smoothly through the streets.
“But you know,” you continue, trying to keep the mood light, “if you were just a little quicker with your offer, I wouldn’t have to deal with all this teasing.”
Jungwon lets out a soft chuckle, the tension in the car easing slightly. “I thought I was quick enough,” he says, a playful tone returning to his voice. “How was I supposed to know you’d be so stubborn?”
“Stubborn? Me? Never,” you tease, rolling your eyes dramatically.
He shakes his head with a laugh, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh, a subtle reminder of the unspoken bond between you two. As he navigates the streets, the silence stretches comfortably, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of traffic.
“Hey, you should know,” you add after a moment, “if you want to make sure I’m not wearing Niki’s clothes, maybe you should just… keep me in yours.”
Jungwon raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Is that your way of saying you want me to dress you?”
“Maybe,” you reply coyly, biting your lip again, the playful banter making you feel bold.
He laughs, shaking his head as he pulls into a quiet parking lot. “You really know how to make me feel like I’m the jealous one, huh?”
“Just speaking the truth,” you say, leaning back into the seat, enjoying the rhythm of the moment.
As he turns off the engine, the atmosphere shifts slightly, the playful banter fading into a more intimate silence. Jungwon finally meets your gaze, his expression earnest. “Just so you know, it’s not about Niki. I just…” he trails off, searching for the right words. “I want to be the one you lean on, the one you trust.”
Your heart swells at his confession, a warmth spreading through you. “You are, Jungwon. You’re the one I always want to lean on.”
He smiles, a genuine light returning to his eyes, and in that moment, everything feels right.
When you arrive at your apartment, Jungwon opens the door for you, the familiar scent of your space washing over you. As soon as you step inside, he follows closely behind, and before you can even set your bag down, he closes the door and turns to face you.
In an instant, the air between you shifts. Jungwon steps forward, his hands gripping your waist as he pulls you closer. You barely have time to react before he captures your lips with his in a deep, passionate kiss that takes your breath away. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you and the electric tension that crackles in the air.
His lips move against yours with a fervor that surprises you, and you feel your heart racing, responding instinctively as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He deepens the kiss, his mouth coaxing yours open as he explores the sweetness of your taste. It’s intoxicating, and you lose yourself in the moment, your worries and doubts melting away.
In the midst of the kiss, he breaks away for just a moment, breathless and looking down at you with those soft eyes. “I can still smell the coffee,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
You giggle, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, the reminder of the earlier incident making you giddy. “Well, I didn’t exactly plan for that to happen,” you reply, your voice teasing but breathless.
“Maybe I should get you a proper change of clothes next time,” he quips, his eyes sparkling with mischief. But then he adds, more seriously, “You should probably take those off; the smell will cling to you.”
His suggestion sends a thrill through you, and you find yourself biting your lip in excitement. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you want me to take them off?” you tease, your heart racing as you lean closer, feeling the warmth radiating from him.
He chuckles softly, but there’s a glint of something deeper in his eyes. “Okay, maybe it’s a little selfish,” he admits, his breath ghosting over your skin as he moves in even closer.
With a playful grin, you decide to indulge him. “Fine, but only if you do too,” you say, your fingers finding the buttons of his uniform. You start to unbutton it, your hands trembling slightly with anticipation. Each button that comes undone reveals more of his toned physique, and your breath hitches as you take in the sight of him.
As your fingers glide over the fabric, Jungwon watches you, his expression a mixture of desire and admiration. “You know, this might be the best idea you’ve ever had,” he murmurs, his voice low and enticing.
You finally push the uniform off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. In that moment, the playful atmosphere shifts into something more intimate. He captures your lips again, and you feel the heat between you both intensify as you pull away the last barriers that had been keeping you apart.
Just when you think it can't get any more intense, he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you gasping for air. “I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he admits, his breath mingling with yours, creating a palpable tension that thrums in the air.
“Why didn’t you?” you ask, your voice teasing yet filled with warmth.
“You know I can’t let everyone find out I’m dating the hottest doctor in the hospital, or else…” he argues, a playful grin breaking through his earlier seriousness.
“Oh, please,” you bite back with a smirk, playfully nudging him. “Like they wouldn’t notice that the ‘sexiest and charming paramedic’ is completely smitten.”
With a smile that could light up the room, you lean in for another kiss, feeling the world around you fade away once again as you get lost in him.
[part one] [part three]
#jungwon#yang jungwon#enhypen au#fanfiction#kpop#enhypen#fluff#jungwon fluff#jungwon smut#jungwon x reader#jungwon enhypen#heeseung#ni ki#sunghoon#enhypen jungwon#niki enhypen#enhypen scenarios#jay enhypen#park sunghoon#nishimura riki#riki nishimura x reader#engene#enhypen niki#jungwon icons#ni ki scenarios#ni ki x reader#ni ki enhypen#ni ki fluff#park jeongseong#sim jaeyun
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Hello ! How you doing ?
I noticed that your requests are open, so i'm gonna yap about my favorite Winged Hero: Keigo !
I always think about reader being in a relationship with Hawks, but she feels like she doesn't really belong with him. He is famous, popular and very loved by his fans, meanwhile she likes to live a calm life, only talking and getting involved if someone reaches for her first.
Reader intends to break up with him, but his bird brain got a different message about it: he thinks she just needs more attention and more courting gifts.
So now reader has a collection of shiny rocks, lots of scented blankets and shirts, and a nonstop whistling Keigo around her.
I just really love the idea of Hawks tagging himself as a No refund Partner 🤭
(Feel free to ignore this, if you don't like it. Sending you lots of love, your writting is amazing 🥰)
No Refunds!
FEATURING Keigo 'Hawks' Takami i x Reader
SUMMARY You fear that Keigo's fast-paced life is too much for you and try to take a step back, but it doesn't seem to work out that well for you. It's just too bad Keigo doesn't believe in refunds.
CONTENT WARNINGS quiet reader, hawks being a literal bird
AUTHORS NOTE hope you all enjoy more of our feather-winged hero because, based on these requests, y'all can't seem to get enough of him!
You’d imagined this moment for weeks—a careful plan to untangle yourself from the wings of a man who seemed to live a world apart from your own. Keigo’s life was a loud one, a kaleidoscope of flashing lights, bright interviews, fans hanging on his every word and movement. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he belonged somewhere out there, in the heart of the storm, while you were left holding onto calmness, craving quiet.
So you’d practiced your words, rehearsed in the mirror, hoping to explain it gently: Keigo, you’re amazing, but I don’t fit into this life. You deserve someone who can keep up, who thrives under a spotlight.
But as you sat across from him in the dimly lit corner of your apartment, watching him devour his meal with an unshakable confidence, all those carefully chosen phrases began to slip away. The man was impossible to ignore, so vividly alive in his unbridled energy, his mouth curling into a familiar, teasing grin every time he caught you looking. It was like trying to capture a gust of wind in your hand—the moment you thought you had him pinned, he shifted, always a step ahead, eyes twinkling with that irreverent humor that made your heart ache.
“Keigo, I just…” you began, feeling your courage falter under his steady gaze. He didn’t miss a beat, his fork pausing in midair as he gave you his full attention.
“Go on,” he said, his voice low but attentive, his eyes narrowing with a glint of curiosity that warned you he wasn’t going to let anything slide by unnoticed.
You took a breath, trying to anchor yourself. “I just… sometimes I feel like I don’t really belong in your world,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.
The words hung in the air, and Keigo stared at you, unblinking, as if you’d just told him something in a language he didn’t quite understand. After a moment, he let out a soft chuckle, eyes shining with that familiar, playful disbelief. “You? Not belong with me?” He shook his head, leaning back in his seat with that cocky, amused grin that somehow melted the tension in the room. “I don’t buy that, not for a second.”
Your heart twisted painfully, but before you could explain, he shifted closer, closing the space between you with the effortless grace of a hawk zeroing in on its mark. He tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that made your cheeks warm, a hint of softness underlying his typically mischievous gaze.
“Listen,” he said, his voice a soft murmur, “if you’re worried about keeping up with me, don’t be. You ground me, you know? Not everything has to be about the spotlight.” He leaned in, and his thumb brushed your cheek, a gentle, fleeting touch that left you breathless. “You’re my calm in all the chaos, you know that?”
Your resolve wavered, and all you could manage was a quiet nod before he kissed your cheek, lingering just long enough to leave a warmth behind. As he left that night, your mind kept replaying that look in his eyes—a flicker of vulnerability that felt strangely out of place on him.
The next morning, you woke to find something glinting on your bedside table. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, and there it was—a smooth, shining rock, no larger than your thumb, with flecks of gold swirling through its charcoal-gray surface. You reached for it slowly, as if it might vanish at any moment, the unexpected gift settling warm and solid in your palm.
A small folded note rested beside it, scrawled with Keigo’s messy handwriting: Something pretty, just like you! – K
You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up, though it came with a pang of sadness. So this was his response? He wasn’t angry or upset; instead, he left a little piece of beauty for you, something that made you feel strangely… cherished. As if he was whispering, See? You’re part of my world. I want you here.
If only he left it at that..
The next morning, as you opened your front door, you found a Hawks-branded bag stuffed with the coziest-looking items imaginable. Luxurious blankets, soft enough to melt in your fingers, with colors that reminded you of his wings—deep crimsons and warm golden yellows. There was a plush feather-shaped pillow tucked inside, soft and inviting, as if he’d tried to bottle the feeling of his own feathers just for you.
Another note, taped to the top of the bag: For when you want a cozy night in, courtesy of your favorite Winged Hero.
In a daze, you pulled the pillow out, feeling the way it seemed to form to your touch, soft and strangely comforting, like you were holding a part of him in your hands. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, though it was tinged with disbelief. Hawks, your Keigo, was attempting to make your space his nest—one soft corner at a time.
You weren’t sure what to think. The gifts kept coming, like waves lapping persistently at the shore, never once relenting. Soon, you had a growing collection of glimmering stones, each unique in color, shape, and size. Some had ribbons tied around them, others were polished to a glassy sheen. By the end of the week, you could open your own boutique: Hawks’ Feathered Finds.
It was almost funny, in a way, how Keigo’s gift ideas seemed to expand. If the shiny stones weren’t enough to convince you of his commitment, the silky blankets and cozy pillows that soon followed would certainly drive the point home.
But as much as the blankets were a nice touch, that wasn’t enough either. No, Keigo’s gifts evolved in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Not satisfied with just leaving inanimate reminders of himself, he began to bring his own shirts, freshly washed and scented with that clean, faintly spicy cologne that was unmistakably his. Each time he left one, it felt like he was marking his presence all over again. When you came home one day to find three different button-ups hanging over your chair, neatly folded with another note—“So you won’t miss me too much”—you realized how completely he’d misunderstood your meaning.
And it didn’t stop there.
You started hearing bird calls, from sharp whistles to melodic chirrups, each one distinct and practiced. They’d come at random times during your day, clear and unmistakable, carrying across rooftops or echoing down quiet streets. Keigo would appear out of nowhere with a casual “Hey,” as if he hadn’t just called you over like a sparrow to its nest. Once, you looked out the window and spotted him standing on the rooftop opposite yours, watching you with that familiar spark of mischief in his eyes as he gave a gentle coo that made your cheeks flush.
Then there was the food. Keigo made it a habit to bring takeout on the evenings he knew you were working late, showing up with your favorite dishes and a grin that always promised a good story to go along with them. He’d kick off his shoes like he’d lived there forever, settling in as if he belonged, yet somehow always a little hesitant. You could tell he was waiting, looking at you as if searching for any sign that his gifts were having an effect.
Finally, one evening after he’d tucked a particularly soft blanket around you with all the precision of a nesting bird, you couldn’t help but ask, “What exactly are you doing, Keigo?”
He looked up from where he’d just finished arranging the folds of the blanket on your couch, his feathers twitching at your question. “What do you mean?” he asked, his amber eyes wide with feigned innocence.
“Keigo…” you said, trying to hold back a laugh as you gestured around your apartment, now cluttered with glistening stones, colorful feathers, and shirts that still carried his scent. “You’re… making a nest in my apartment.”
His wings fluttered, a small chuckle escaping as he scratched the back of his head. “Guess you could call it that.” He crossed over to where you sat, his gaze growing softer. “But I’m just making sure you know you’re not going anywhere.”
You shook your head, equal parts amused and bewildered. “I… I don’t think that’s how it works.”
Undeterred, Keigo leaned in, his head tilting down just slightly so his eyes met yours, the mischief in them mingling with something warmer, something that pulled at your heart. “Maybe not,” he murmured, his tone more serious than you’d ever heard. “But I don’t give up that easily. You don’t just get to decide you’re going to leave, y’know?”
A small pang tightened in your chest. How could someone like him, someone whose life glittered with fame and thrill, expect to keep someone like you by his side? Yet, looking into his eyes, you saw something deeper, even a little vulnerable, as his thumb traced soft circles over your hand.
“Keigo… I’m not…” you began, trying to find the words. “I just… sometimes I feel like I’m not cut out for this, like I don’t belong in this world of yours.”
He watched you for a long moment, his gaze gentle but unwavering. “Sweetheart,” he said softly, his wings rustling, “you’re not holding me back. You’re the calm in my storm. And I’m not about to let that slip away.” His hand tightened around yours just slightly. “Besides, I never heard any rule about ‘no refunds’ not applying to relationships. So guess what? You’re stuck with me.”
You looked around, taking in the stones, the blankets, the shirts—this strange, feathered haven he’d created around you, like a nest meant just for the two of you. You hadn’t realized you’d been dating an actual bird until now, and it hit you with a surprising warmth, a feeling that maybe, just maybe, you did belong here after all.
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Creep | Oliver Quick
Though you can’t grasp exactly what, you know something is very off with your boyfriend’s peculiar new friend.
Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, Stalking, Voyeurism, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Drinking, Smoking, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamic
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
Felix’s long digits drum over your back as he pouts, “You really brought me here just to study, babe?” His raspy, flirtatious tone tugs your lips skyward. Still, your attention doesn’t stray from your laptop screen. Sentences bleed from your fingertips at a quick-fire pace. A little under three thousand words on Bentham’s theory of utilitarianism, due by Monday. The topic isn’t exactly thrilling but you have to hand it over in time.
“If I don’t ace this essay, I’m going to fail this class,” you absently reply. Failure. The one thing you literally can’t afford right now, though you forbear sharing that particular bit with Felix. Best he perceives your single-minded determination as a core stare of your character rather than what it actually is…a necessity, one born of dire circumstances.
He takes a long drag off his cigarette. Grey smoke floats around you, smudging the words on your screen. You repress tears as your eyes burn. You wished he’d curb the nasty habit. You’ve dropped hints before.
But no one tells Felix Catton what to do. Many would kill to even breathe the same nicotin-infused air as him. Felix is the sun and everyone on campus craves to be in his orbit, eager for the slightest chance to bask in his warmth, shower in his light.
You’re no different. The day he asked you out, a little over a year ago, you pinched yourself twice to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Felix Catton wanted…you? It couldn’t be real.��
This was the boy you held in your heart for a decade, the only one you ever had eyes for.
And while your relationship suffered its share of hardships, namely Felix’s wandering eyes, you couldn’t picture life without him at your side.
He’s your everything.
He could hurt you a thousand times and you’d forgive him each of those times.
Felix’s bare shoulder grazes yours as he states, “They won’t fail you, not with who your dad is.”
Your stomach knots with his comment. Still, you shrug, pretending away the guilt steadily gnawing your insides.
“I don’t want to get special treatment just because of my family name, Felix,” you say, trying your best to sound nonchalant.
Though his smile never falters, his jaw ticks. “And I do?”
The ice in his tone scatters in your veins. Immediately, you discard your homework, concerned gaze finding his.
“I’m not saying that.” When Felix doesn’t respond, panic roars inside you. You touch his exposed chest to bring his attention to you. He doesn’t move. “I didn’t say that.”
A thick blanket of silence engulfs the room and your airways constrict. It feels as if your heart is on the verge of collapse as you wait for a reaction from your boyfriend, his chestnut gaze glued to the ceiling.
His head turns to you slowly. He releases a large puff of smoke in your face. Tears rush to your eyes, filling them to the brim.
Felix shrugs.
“It sounded like you did. A little. But that’s okay.” His tone is mellow in that way that oozes displeasure. “I’m just a legacy kid getting by on his trust fund and good looks, right?”
Your mouth quakes and he bursts out a chuckle. He cups your cheek, a wide grin breaking onto his face. “I’m just fucking with you, babe.”
You swallow your budding tears, wiping your eyes swiftly as Felix reaches around you to put out his cig in the ashtray.
You punch him in the chest, your own laughter bubbling out.
“You’re an arsehole.”
His grin expands. Twining your fingers with his, Felix’s tone gets softer.
“I wanted to ask…” He trails off, brown gaze clinging to yours. “Can Ollie come to the party you and Anabel are throwing tonight?”
You tilt your head in befuddlement. “Ollie?”
He traces the lines in your palm, adding absently, “Yeah, Oliver. I told you about him. Saved my arse when my bike broke.”
“Right, bike guy,” you say, remembrance hitting you. You tilt your head. “What’s he like?”
Felix sighs.
“He doesn't have too many friends. He's also had a rough upbringing. So I thought we could help him a little, you know?” You study him. However casual your boyfriend attempts to sound, you instantly recognize what this is. Yet another try at playing knight in shining armor. Whoever this Oliver guy is, he’s now become your boyfriend’s side project. His charity case possibly.
“He’s not like us so we could try to be nice.”
Not like us. You mask your discomfort with a bright smile.
About a year ago, your dad’s company filed for bankruptcy. Thankfully your scholarship still allows you to attend Oxford, but your lifestyle has drastically changed. No more shopping sprees. No more casual leisure trips to Europe. No more frivolous spendings with daddy’s black card.
The last straw was when your father emptied every account, including your trust, and left the country without as much as a goodbye text. Since those events, your mother has taken refuge at the bottom of a whisky bottle. You can barely get a hold of her these days.
So not only are you penniless, you might as well be an orphan.
Felix is all you have left. You can’t risk him finding out the truth. He can never know about the part time jobs you’ve had to take to cover tuition costs or the small flat your mum had to move into after your father had to sell the family manor. He might think you’re beneath him now, working class, destitute. Or worse, he might pity you, treat you like a charity case too.
You follow the curve of his dark brow with your thumb, sweeping over his silver stud.
“Hm, sure. I can be nice,” you promise.
“I know you can,” he teases, large hands pulling on your thighs to spread you across his lap.
You squeal before scolding him, “Felix…I really really need to finish this essay.”
His eyes darken with lust as he licks his lips. He wiggles his hips, causing the bulge in his jeans to rub against your clothed center. Your breath hitches. “And I really really need you to take care of this for me.” His hoarse, desperate inflection makes your core clench. His palms run over your thighs beneath your short dress. “Just five minutes? Come on, I’ve been hard for like an hour, babe.”
He hums, already playfully fiddling with the edge of your lace panties.
“It’s your fault for wearing this fucking pink dress. You know the way your ass looks in it drives me crazy.”
You resolve crumbles beneath Felix’s heated stare. You can never tell him no. And he knows that. Releasing a deep sigh, you relent.
“Five minutes,” you offer.
He slides one finger inside your weeping core. As you draw a sharp breath, Felix beams.
“It’s all I need,” he coos.
The party’s at his height, loud music blasting from the gigantic speakers and glow sticks waving in the pitch blackness of the underground cellar. You thread your way between tipsy students, carrying two cups of beer in your hands.
As you reach the VIP corner, you hand Annabel her drink. The redhead mumbles her thanks as she bobs her head to the music. You peer at your surroundings, glad to see everyone having fun.
It’s a frank success. Pride trickles inside you at that. It’s been hard collecting pockets of free time to put it together between classes and assignments. But you did it.
Truthfully, you’re also craving some fun tonight. All you’ve done lately is studying. You miss the days when you were more carefree, unconcerned about your grades deciding the course of your future.
You glance down at your watch, scowling as you notice the time. He was supposed to be here three hours ago.
“Where’s Felix?” you ask Venetia. Your boyfriend’s sister lazily opens her eyes, a drunken smile spreading onto her lips. She shrugs. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen him around.”
You pivot to the rest of the group.
“Have you guys seen him tonight?”
Annabel shakes her head apologetically while Farleigh brings his blunt to his mouth with a taunting smile.
“Desperate much?” he teases.
“Farleigh, come on,” Anabel chastises. She bumps her shoulder into yours, her expression sympathetic. “Don’t mind him, you know he’s always a jerk after a few drinks.”
Farleigh sighs. “Darling, you know I love you. It was just a joke.”
“A joke, right…” you mumble. Your cheeks heat though you try not to let your feelings show. Still, Farleigh’s words linger in your head. Maybe you’re being too clingy. It’s something you should mind. What if you became too needy and Felix grew bored of you? It’s not like he wouldn’t find a replacement for you in a heartbeat.
You lie back on the plush couch, sipping from your beer cup as your friends continue their chat. The conversation has long since stopped making sense, fueled by drug-inspired ramblings. Your attention is halved by your straying train of thoughts, the current whereabouts of your boyfriend still at the forefront of your brain.
Another hour flies by before Felix’s towering frame finally pierces through the crowd. A smaller boy trails behind him, his expression mirroring that of a lost puppy. He adjusts his glasses, awkwardly avoiding the drunken bodies around him. The word “Sorry” doesn’t stop pouring from his mouth.
You realize this must be Oliver. Astonishment flows through you. This isn’t the kind of company Felix traditionally keeps. But you elect to try your best to be nice and welcoming.
It’s what Felix asked of you after all. Besides, entering a new group of people cannot be easy, your tight-knit circle having known each other since kindergarten for some.
You don’t miss Anabel’s fleeting, condescending glance as she takes in Oliver though. Getting her assent to let him come had been a hassle, as she regards him as some weird, scholarship kid who’d just bring the mood down. But you insisted and she finally caved.
You trade a meaningful look with her, silently nudging her to be nice. The redhead practically rolls her eyes but squeezes her lips shut. Annabel may be one of your best friends but even you’re aware that she can be quite snobbish at times.
A sullen expression decorates your face as Felix enters the private booth.
“You’re late,” you blurt out. Farleigh snickers behind you and your cheeks flare. But everything around you fades as Felix grabs your face and presses feverish lips over yours. Your irritation melts in the heat of the passionate kiss.
When he frees your mouth, his thumb runs over your swollen bottom lip as he explains casually, “Yeah we were just hanging out and we lost track of time.”
He then introduces the shy boy.
“That’s Ollie.”
“Nice to meet you,” he stutters.
“Likewise,’ you reply smiling.
You gauge him. Beneath the large glasses, you note the slanted blue eyes and soft, round boyish features. Felix’s friend is cute. If only he weren’t so painfully awkward.
“You should sit with us. There’s plenty of space,” you say.
Felix draws you onto his lap as he sits. Oliver takes a nervous seat next to the two of you. His eyes keep rising to Felix, as if seeking perpetual approval from your boyfriend. You’re a little perplexed. Farleigh hands Felix a spliff and he lets his hand rest on your thigh while taking a long drag from it.
“So, where are you from exactly?” you ask Oliver.
His gaze on you and Felix is sharp, somehow constantly darting to where your boyfriend’s holding you.
“Prescott,” he answers.
You mull over his response. It’s a few hours away from Oxford. You don’t know much about it. Though, based on what Felix implied about the way he grew up, you expected him to originate from a rougher area. Prescott doesn’t seem too awful.
“Prescott? They must be proud of you back home, especially your parents.”
“Probably not, actually.”
Your curiosity is piqued. “Why are you saying that?”
Oliver shrugs. His eyes find the floor before meeting yours again.
“Just don’t talk to them much,” he mutters. “They got problems and stuff…”
You slant your head. “Problems?”
Felix’s hand tightens atop your thigh. “Babe, that’s enough prying, don’t you think?”
“I’m just making conversation, trying to get to know him.”
“You’re embarrassing him, babe.”
Oliver’s blue gaze lifts to yours, his face unreadable.
“No, it’s fine,” he says, though you detect a slight edge to his timbre that wasn’t there before. A small smile tugs his lips. “I don’t mind questions. Got nothing to hide.”
You nod. An icy tickle blooms at the base of your spine, scattering outward as Oliver’s intense focus doesn’t leave you. You turn away, shifting your attention to your boyfriend. Throughout the entire night, a strange sensation thunders through you, like the lightning before the storm. You can’t explain it. It’s like the world shifted off its axis, though you can’t pinpoint the reason.
Thankfully the strangeness is cast aside by Felix’s soft lips and heady, masculine scent. As the party goes on in the background, the two of you sneak away. You end up making out in a dark corner, Felix’s greedy hands slipping beneath your short skirt to grab a fistful of your ass. He pinches your flesh and you squeal.
A warm chuckle spills from his lips as he peppers tender kisses alongside your neck.
“Let’s go back to my dorm,” he whispers.
You readily agree. He takes your hand and the two of you hitch a ride back to campus. The two of you giggle in the backseat of the car every time the driver berates you for getting too handsy with each other. You laugh it off all the way back to his room, lips locking as you cross the threshold. You jump to wrap your legs around Felix’s tapered waist. He purrs, his hands latching around your hips, pulling you closer. He pushes you against a wall, tracing a scorching path in the valley between your breasts. Moaning, you toss your head back.
As your eyes flutter however, you catch sight of a silhouette standing outside Felix’s window. Your heart bounces, your eyes growing saucer-wide. You gasp and leap away from Felix.
“What the fuck?” he curses as you race to the window. Chest pulsing with your quick heartbeats, you peel the window open to peek outside. The cold night air whisks inside the room. Goosebumps break out on your skin.
Your gaze wanders, searching the darkness. Confusion swells within you as you find nothing. Nothing but greenery, the same trees and grass flanking your path whenever you stroll through campus.
“There was someone outside, w-watching us,” you stammer.
Felix’s frustrated breath grazes the back of your neck. “Babe, there’s no one out there.”
You squint, dumbfounded when nothing but pitch blackness stares back at you. For a minute, you really believed someone stood there. In fact, whoever they were bore a peculiar resemblance to…
You catch yourself before finishing the thought.
Now that’s just crazy.
“But I saw…”
Felix shifts your body towards him. He cups your cheeks and rasps, “Hey. Hey, look at me. There’s no one but us here.” His lips collide with yours. He starts groping you again and you push him off you, stunned that he wants to have sex at a time like this.
“No, Felix, I-I can’t.”
He stumbles back and scoffs, “Oh.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you inquire, glowering at him.
His gaze flicks over you, his expression cold. “All that teasing just to leave me high and dry?”
“Felix, wait…”
He avoids your touch, collecting his jacket from the bed when your fingers stretch towards him.
“It’s fine. I’m just gonna have a smoke. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Your stomach sinks.
“O-Okay,” you say as your hand retreats to your side.
The door slams shut and you collapse on Felix’s bed. Your eyes veer to the window once more. You could have sworn you caught a glimpse of someone. Maybe all those late nights writing essays and revising for the upcoming exams are slowly catching up to you, dragging you to the brink of madness.
Felix doesn’t call you the following day. Of course he doesn’t. You broke the mood. You acted weird. What reason does he have to want to be around you again? It’s bad enough you neglected him in favor of your assignments and club activities for the last few weeks. Now you can’t even enjoy the sparse time you have together.
Still, you flip your phone open all day long, longing for a word from him, any trivial, insignificant word.
You get nothing.
You gloomily drag your feet around campus and somehow find your way in one of the empty student lounges, save Farleigh and Venetia. Lying flat on the carpeted floor, eyes glued to the ceiling, the two of them are sharing a spliff. You wedge yourself between them, lying on your back also. You steal the roll from Venetia’s fingers and bring it to your lips. Your throat burns and you cough as you inhale a puff. Venetia’s lips curve upward as your eyes water.
“You gotta take it easy the first time,” she says, amusement lighting her olive orbs. “Tiny inhales.” She shows you how and you mimic her gestures. You go slower the second time and a pleasant numbness sets into your limbs. Your eyes shut. You kind of get it now. For the first time in several weeks, your mind’s almost at rest, your stormy thoughts quieted.
“You don’t smoke,” Farleigh notes near you.
“I am today.”
“You guys will be fine,” Venetia assures. “You’re always fine.”
Your eyes open, settling on the pristine white ceiling.
“I fucking hate him sometimes.” You pause, sucking a deep breath. “But I love him more.”
“Yep, that’s Felix,” they utter in unison.
You heave out a weary sigh. They grew up with him. They know better than anyone, how sweet and wonderful he can be, but also cruel and careless sometimes.
Just like the sun, Felix’s light can also burn whoever gets too close.
For a while, the three of you hang out in silence, the spliff switching hands every once in a while. Eventually, each of them rises, leaving you to your mopey thoughts.
Before taking his leave however, Farleigh whispers in your ear,
“Oh and darling, next time you wear a rental…make sure the price tag isn’t sticking out. It gives you away.”
You sit up immediately. A smile dances on the boy’s lips as he disappears. You grab the back of your neck, face warming as you feel the tag poking through the collar of your shirt.
You nearly forgot you’re due to return the designer piece in two days’ time. You can’t believe someone noticed. Though you suppose if anybody would, it’d be Farleigh. Nothing gets past his keen eye. You surmise it was a necessity with the way he grew up. Learning to read people, knowing what makes them tick, being able to spot a pretender from a mile away…which you are now.
Maybe it’s ludicrous, acting like you can still afford to live like this, like your life wasn’t turned upside down.
Still, you can’t fathom the alternative. The judgement, the pity, from your friends…from Felix. The thought alone makes you sick. The echo of Anabel’s voice as she disparaged Oliver’s background a few days ago never left you.
Dunno what Felix even sees in him. He’s some weird scholarship kid who buys his clothes at Oxfam.
That was harsh…and made you wonder what your best friend would have to say about your current situation.
So you’d rather lie, even if you sometimes look like a fool doing so.
You swallow a wide lungful, willing yourself to be calm. You repeat the mantra, again and again. You’re okay. You’re okay. You just need to keep your grades up and get through the semester.
The rest of the week is hell. Felix all but ignores you, not even sparing you a glance when he brushes past you in the university corridors. The itch to talk to him sears inside you. Unfortunately, he’s always surrounded by a swarm of people, the center of attention as usual, making approaching him near impossible. You can’t picture bringing up your relationship problems in front of so many eyes.
Besides, you don’t want to project desperation, Farleigh’s pointed gibe still resonating in your mind. You need to play it cool, wrap yourself in a disguise of indifference…despite the way you wither away every second he’s not texting you back.
The agonizing wait is made worse by him. He’s everywhere now. Wherever Felix goes, he goes too. Oliver Quick has essentially become your boyfriend’s shadow. Whether in class, at pub meetups, at parties, the quiet, nervous boy never abandons Felix’s side, always peering up at him with those round baby blues of his, a strange mix of admiration, devotion and…something else you can’t pinpoint etched on his face.
It’s sort of creepy in your opinion.
Though you’d never say it aloud. For some reason, Oliver’s his new toy. And you’re acutely aware of how Felix is with his toys. He plays with them for a while then moves on to the next fancy, shiny new one. He did it to Eddie before. Now Oliver.
And maybe it’ll be your turn one day…if you don’t do something.
It’s how you end up in front of his dorm one night, already tipsy from half a bottle of vodka. Liquid courage to get you to knock on his door. It’s pathetic. Of course it is, but you just can’t wait anymore.
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and shaking off your nerves. Your knuckles are less than an inch from the door when a broken whimper reaches you from the other side of Felix’s door.
Brows furrowing, you place your ear against the wood. You hear a moan this time. Deep, distinctive, masculine…familiar. Your heart stops.
You plummet to your knees, peering through the keyhole. You feel wrong for doing so, for invading Felix’s privacy like this. But guilt crumbles beneath the weight of heartbreak at what you witness.
You almost find yourself wishing you hadn’t looked. Almost.
Rivulets of anguish flow down your face as you watch your best friend and boyfriend lip-locked, practically swallowing each other’s faces. Their clothes aren’t off but the urgent way they’re grinding against each other is a dead giveaway as to what’s to come.
Legs trembling, you stumble back from the door. You shouldn’t have come. This was a mistake. You’re a fool.
You drunkenly stagger through the corridors, clinging to the walls each time you almost trip over your own feet.
You wind up slumped on some stairs, too inebriated to carry yourself much further. Your lids sag as you exhale. More hot tears spill down your cheeks. Your chest aches, a knife piercing through your heart as the memory of Annabel and Felix lost in the throes of passion fleets across your brain. Why are you even shocked? It’s not like you never caught Anabel leering at him while she thought you weren’t looking. And it’s not like Felix is some kind of saint. Still, you can’t help but feel massively betrayed. You thought you meant more to him. You thought they wouldn’t…not with each other.
When your eyes flutter open, you find a pair of intense cobalt orbs studying you.
“Oliver…” you mumble. In your drunken stupor, you don’t bother wondering how he got here, seemingly materializing from thin hair.
He hunkers in front of you. His scent tickles your nose and it twitches. The smell of his cologne is so strikingly reminiscent of the one Felix wears. A wave of emotion engulfs you. Sobs shake your frame as you shrink against the wall.
Oliver’s gaze rises to your weeping face as he questions, “Are you okay?”
“M’fine…” you slur, wiping your snotty nose. You must look a fright, a pathetic heap of tears aimlessly wandering the university corridors.
He tilts his head. “You don’t look fine.”
You consider Oliver. He is cute, which you noticed before. And in the dimly lit stairway, his blue eyes burn even brighter. You loathe that Felix is allowed to hurt you the way he did and can just…keep on. If your friends aren’t off-limits, why would his be?
You bat your lashes at Oliver.
“You got any alcohol?”
His lips curve upward as he rasps, “Would you like me to have alcohol?”
How did you end up there? The question keeps swirling in your head as Oliver’s mouth hungrily devours yours, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer. He trails fevered kisses down your neck and you squirm. As his teeth sink into the flesh at the crook of your neck, you let out a sharp cry. You tug on his dark locks and Oliver growls against your skin. The pain mixes with pleasure in your haze. His tongue then circles where he punctured your flesh, dragging slowly as an elated purr rises from his chest. His hard-on presses into your thigh. Alarm bells ring inside your mind.
It’s all a little too real, you realize. You got carried away. You draw back, pushing against his chest. “Oliver, wait…”
You might as well have said nothing, your words falling to unlistening ears as Oliver grabs your wrists and nudges you on the bed on your back. You peer up at him. Lust darkens his blue gaze, making him appear almost inhuman in the darkness.
Your mouth wobbles.
Pinning your wrists at your sides, Oliver kisses you senseless. Soon his lips are tracing a scorching path down your body, his hands moving to peel off your short skirt and panties.
His attentive gaze doesn’t leave yours as he sluggishly drags the tiny layer of lace down your legs.
His throat bobs when your bare cunt is exposed to him.
Biting his bottom lip, Oliver crawls his way to your core. Your legs quake. There is a strange glow in his eyes that sends chills down your back.
“Oli-” you start, but the protest dwindles in a helpless whimper when Oiver buries his head between your thighs and flicks his tongue against your bundle of nerves. Oliver’s firm hands clasp around your thighs, keeping you in place when you attempt to close your legs. He greedily eats you out, fingers digging into your soft flesh. He suckles your tender button in his mouth and your eyes roll back. Your fingers get lost in his dark mane as your back arches against the sheets. Oliver’s feverish tongue sweeps around your folds and you grow weaker, slumping against the pillow.
Quickly, stars dangle in your vision. Your fists tighten around the sheets while your legs turn to jelly. A long breath flows from your lips.
You don’t remember ever coming that hard before, not even with Felix.
Tingles are still dancing over your legs as a sliver of clarity returns to you.
Oliver’s tongue slowly moves, collecting the remnants of your essence off his lips as a look of sheer bliss decorates his face. You shiver.
You try to move off the bed. “I think that’s enough,” you say, folding your knees.
Oliver’s mouth quirks lopsidedly. “Oh, we’re nowhere near done, luv.”
Much quicker than you, Oliver slithers his way up your body and cages you beneath his frame. He steals your lips in a hungry kiss, trapping your wrists above your head. His fingers are tight enough that you just know it’ll bruise. You taste your own bittersweet flavor on his tongue. His hand creeps under your shirt, groping your tits. He plants urgent pecks on your face, dragging his teeth along your jaw.
“Oliver, please…” you beseech, shock making your voice shake.
He sinks a finger between your slick walls. Your stomach tightens.
Oliver releases your swollen lips and twists his finger inside your core. Your breath hitches.
He smiles down at you.
“But you’re gushing down there, luv. This is what you want.”
Your face warms. You hate that he’s right, that your body clings to him, making space you wish it didn’t…almost inviting his actions.
But Oliver’s mouth and hands are far too good at knowing which buttons to press to turn you into a whimpering mess. Shame pools in your gut as sharp keens leave your lips.
He pumps inside you at a steady pace, his thumb teasing your heap of sensitive nerves every once in a while, pressing until you cry out. He adds another finger and the air in your lungs falters. His hands feel everywhere at once, his teeth and mouth scattering marks all over your body.
He doesn’t stop until you clench around him, soaking his hand with your juices when you shatter with a high-pitched wail.
You crash over the pillows. Your body is still coming off the high. Half-lidded eyes blindly rise to the ceiling. Oliver yanking off his shirt and discarding his pants doesn’t register, not fully, the entire bottle of vodka you emptied before making your mind slow.
He’s suddenly inside you, his thick length splitting you apart as he places his forearms besides your head.
Your lips part in a quiet shout. It feels like if you might break, your walls aching as they stretch around him.
He begins to rail into you, each of his thrusts blunt and animalistic. As if he were possessed by some beast. You know it’s ludicrous. But as the lewd clapping of your damp skin against his rises each time he buries himself balls-deep inside you…it’s how you feel. Like a wild animal somehow broke free and started rutting into you.
Your head lolls against the pillows, your thoughts going blank every time he grazes your sweet spots. Your fingernails rake down his back.
“Does Felix fuck you like this?” he rasps. He presses his chest against yours, his cock hitting an angle that draws a lengthy moan from you. A crooked smile ghosts over Oliver’s lips. “Or maybe more like this…”
His warm breath fans over your earshell.
“Tell me luv… How do our cocks compare?”
When you don’t respond, he roughly shoves inside you, his fingers cinching around your windpipe. You gasp in horror, gaping at him through tear-filled eyes.
“Answer me,” he instructs, his voice deeper than before.
“Y-You’re bigger than he is,” you sputter, struggling to get the words out with his hand squeezing your throat.
A peculiar blend of excitement and disappointment swims in his gaze when you answer.
You weakly claw at his chest, squirming beneath him. He doesn’t let you go, bending to shove his tongue in your mouth. He drags his tongue over your face, licking your hot tears. Sobs jostle your frame.
“Oliver, please,” you repeat.
He shushes you, framing your chin. His thumb follows the outline of your bottom lip, bleeding and swollen from all his rough kisses.
“Stop fighting it. Be a good girl.” He showers tender pecks across your collarbone before softly whispering against your temple, “Or I’ll tell Felix everything. That you came onto me, begging me to fuck you.” His devilish smile sears into your skin. “I’ll tell him what a good little slut you were for me.”
Your stomach drops. Oliver collects your tears with his fingertips. He shoves his fingers in his mouth, emitting a throaty moan at the taste of your despair. He then dips those same fingers in your mouth, his pelvis snapping into yours.
“It’s beautiful, how much you love him,” Oliver mumbles, growing harder inside you as a fresh wave of tears brim beneath your lashes. “You’re beautiful. I can see why he always comes back.” He rests his forehead against yours, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips.
“Maybe I’ll keep you for myself when this is all done.”
The awakening in the early morning is rude, the wicked headache and ache in your limbs reminding you of last night’s events right away. Strips of sunlight sneak between the curtains, caressing your face. The usually pleasant warmth does nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. Your stomach clenches as you peer at your side. Oliver’s completely naked, only wearing the silver chain always around his neck. His arm is lazily spread over your belly. You don’t dare move, fearing he’ll wake up.
What would you even say?
This is a disaster. You somehow ended up in Oliver’s room and…had sex with him.
You swallow a shaky sob as your gaze travels low. Your panties are torn, which you didn’t notice last night. At least your clothes can still be worn, lying in a messy heap at the bottom of the bed. Carefully, you writhe your way out of Oliver’s hold and grab your clothes.
You hastily put your skirt and shirt back on, trying not to cry when you realize you’re going to have to walk back to your dorm without your knickers. Heat rushes to your cheeks.
You toss a glance behind you, relieved when you find him still sleeping soundly.
You climb off the bed. Your heart leaps when the mattress squeaks as you rise.
Pulse quickening, you head for the door.
Pain radiates through your lower body when you move. You stagger the rest of the way, constantly tugging on your short skirt as you pray not to encounter any strong gust of wind on the way back.
Before leaving, you look back.
Oliver’s still sprawled on his side on the bed but his eyes are wide open now.
No word leaves his mouth as he studies you in silence.
A wide, lazy smile slowly unfans on his lips.
Your blood turns to ice. Fumbling with the doorknob, you scurry outside the door.
Once you’re outside, you slam the door closed.
You dart panicked glances around the corridor. Relief fills you when you note that it’s empty. For now. It won’t be long before students start milling about.
You shamefully return to your dorm. The entire walk back, paranoia lurks at the edge of your mind. You keep wondering if every stranger you come across can tell what you did.
And you keep hoping not to run across anyone you know.
When you reach your bedroom, you lock the door. You make a beeline for the bathroom. You need a shower, expeditiously. Oliver’s smell still lingers on you. When you catch your disheveled reflection in the bathroom mirror, you’re shocked. You approach the mirror on unsteady legs. You crane your neck, your fingertips skimming over the two puncture wounds on your neck. A cool wave ripples down your back. It’s twisted. You feel like a character in a Polidori’s tale. Except this is reality somehow.
The one where you have to face the fact that you shagged your boyfriend’s new friend…and you’re not even entirely sure that you wanted it. Your mind throbs as you search through your memories. You changed your mind midway through. Oliver did not care.
Oliver did not care…
The ghastly realization has you keel over the toilet bowl to empty the meagre contents of your stomach. You slump to the floor and start quivering over the bathroom floor.
A sudden knock on your door has you rising from the floor.
Your heart skips a beat when you glance through the peephole.
“F-Felix?” you stutter, panic hitting a peak inside you.
His deep voice penetrates through the door.
“Hey, can we talk?” he asks.
He sounds heartbroken, desperate. You almost unleash a sigh. You recognize this. You’ve been there before. This is a rollercoaster you can never get off of, the thrill when you’re high up entirely too intoxicating.
“Right now is not the best time.”
He heaves out a deep sigh. You can literally picture his kicked puppy expression, even with the door between you two. Your heartstrings flutter as you lean against the door. The craving to toss yourself in his arms wars with the sizzling betrayal still sitting in the pit of your stomach.
“Fuck. Are you still mad at me?”
Swallowing the surge of tears, you reply, “No. Just feeling a bit rough. Had a tad too much to drink last night.”
“I could take care of you…”
You nibble your lip. It’s tempting. He’s done it before. Bought you pastries and showered you with kisses and cuddles until you got better. When he wants, Felix can be the perfect boyfriend. When he wants.
“No,” you say firmly. “What do you want, Felix?”
“Can’t you just let me in, just for a minute, babe?” His pleading inflection shatters your meek fences.
“The park. In two hours,” you concede. “I got microeconomics right now, can’t miss it.”
“Thank you. Thank you.”
He’s overjoyed. You can’t bear it anymore. You race back to the bathroom as another wave of queasiness engulfs your insides.
Jittery steps lead you through the park as you rejoin him under an oak tree. You spent the last hour in class totally unfocused, your chest tight as you dreaded how this conversation would go.
“Felix,” you greet.
He wraps his arms around you. You remain still in his embrace, the distinctive scent of his cologne floating around you. You feel sick. Now it doesn’t remind you of Felix anymore.
“I really missed you.”
“Didn’t seem like it,” you mumble coolly.
His long exhale tickles your shoulder. “I know. I’m a wanker.”
“More like a selfish arsehole.”
His hold on you slackens as he draws back a little.
A look of hurt and shock covers his face. He isn’t used to you speaking to him so harshly. To him, you’ve only ever been sweet and forgiving. His brows crumple.
“I deserve that.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Listen I… I almost did something awful last night.”
“What thing?” You fiddle with the scarf around your neck. It’s the sole last minute resort you found to conceal the mark decorating your throat.
Of course you know exactly what thing Felix is referring to. You saw it with your own eyes, that thing. If it weren’t for that, you may not be a complete wreck today.
“Doesn’t matter, cause I stopped. It’s not who I want to be anymore.” He cups your face, warm brown gaze diving into yours. “You make me better.”
Words leave your mouth without forethought.
“Who was it this time?”
He hesitates, his jaw tensing. But beneath your heavy stare, he finally caves in.
“It was Annabel.”
“Oh.”
The knife inside your chest twists. It’s one thing to know, to have seen. It’s another to hear it confirmed from your boyfriend’s own mouth. Last night wasn’t some dragged out nightmare; it was reality. When you turn your head, Felix pivots it back to him.
Sincerity vibrates in his tone.
“I ended up kicking her out though.” He wipes the single tear that spills down your cheek. “All I could think about was you, the entire time.” He strokes your face. “You’re the only one for me, babe. This is the last time. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Fuck…”
You spot something you never heard in Felix’s voice before. Fear. And instantly, you break.
He leans his forehead against yours.
“I love you,” he states.
You’re dumbstruck. Those words have crossed Felix’s lips at least a thousand times. He’s said them to so many, even strangers…but never to you.
He came close a few times, but never has he been this clear, firm, his meaning unmistakable. Butterflies swarm your stomach.
“I love you,” he repeats.
Felix plants a feverish kiss on your lips, leaving them tingling when he releases you.
“I love you too,” you whisper as your hot breaths mingle.
A sunny smile breaks out on his face.
“No more lies from now on.”
A sinking feeling spreads through you, but you ignore it, returning his smile.
“No more lies,” you echo. Guilt eats at you the second you utter the words.
Felix’s attention veers from you as he waves at someone behind you.
“Hey, Ollie,” he shouts.
The air around you plummets to a few degrees. You go still against Felix, nudging a shaky smile onto your lips.
“I need to go to class,” you chime.
You don’t even turn around, his presence alone sending your senses into alert.
Confusion scrunches Felix’s features.
“Your next class isn’t for another hour.”
You pat his chest, willing yourself to sound more cheerful than you feel.
“Just got some studying to catch up on beforehand.”
Felix’s fingers cling to yours as you try to leave.
“I’ll see you tonight at the pub?”
“Sure.”
He doesn’t let you go until you give him another lengthy kiss. You’re uncomfortable, the weight of a certain somebody’s stare drilling holes into your back.
Things recede to relative normalcy, in some ways better than before, and in others worse. Better because of your relationship with Felix. It improves tremendously. He dotes on you more than he ever has, showering you with gifts and small attentions.
Worse because he’s still there, his unsettling presence the dark cloud over your rekindled romance. Each time you’re forced to be around him, there’s a knowing, smug glint dancing in his eyes, a subtle smile tugging his lips skywards. Perpetual fright eclipses your happiness, all because of Oliver Quick.
What if he told Felix everything? This was a mistake and you’re fairly sure you tried to stop it. You still have nightmares about that night, the way he held you down and wrapped his hand around your neck, stealing your air and ability to defend yourself.
You were helpless. Even letting Felix touch you is hard now, the memory of what Oliver did to you seeping through the cracks whenever you expect it least.
He branded you. And while the marks on your body may have faded, the ones engraved on your soul won’t vanish so easily.
It’s a blessing when Felix finally grows bored with him. You have no idea how it occurred. You simply know that they seem stitched at the hip for months then, suddenly, Oliver is gone. Felix shows up at group meetups without him and stops mentioning him altogether.
As if he took an eraser and wiped him from existence. Just like he did to Eddie back in the day.
You’re relieved…for an ephemeral while alas.
Oliver’s dad's abrupt passing changes everything overnight.
Once more, Felix feels the need to be Oliver’s knight in shining armor.
And once more the two of them are inseparable. Two peas in a pod.
You elect to take some distance. While you understand that Felix wants to help him, it doesn’t mean you have to. Thankfully, with summer fastly approaching, you won’t have to bear with Oliver Quick for much longer.
As usual, James and Elspeth urged you to come spend the summer at Saltburn, particularly Elspeth who couldn’t stop gushing about what a gorgeous couple you and Felix are. And while you may have tried to decline every other year, finding his family to be an awful lot, this year is different. This year, more than ever before, you long for an escape.
Even the pits of hell would be a suitable vacation spot if it meant not having to run across Oliver Quick for two whole months.
It’s a thrilling prospect. These days you can’t be around Felix as much because being around him means being around Oliver, and you just can’t do it. You look forward to having your boyfriend all to yourself. All day long, you dream about lazy afternoons by the pool and cloud-gazing in the grassy fields.
These are the balmy thoughts floating through your mind as you return to your dorm that day after classes end. A carefree smile decorates your face. You can’t wait to finish packing your suitcase. You saved every penny from your part-time job to buy a new swimsuit. And while it made a small dent in your savings, imagining Felix’s face the first time he’ll see you in it makes the tiny sacrifice worth it.
But the smile on your lips dies when you cross the door to your bedroom. Your jaw drops, the stack of books in your hands crashing to the floor with a loud thud.
“What are you doing here?” you whisper. You shrink against the door, maintaining as wide a distance as the small room allows.
Oliver doesn’t even spare you a glance, casually lying on your bed with one knee bent like it’s his.
“Your taste in books. A bit of a letdown I gotta say, luv,” he says, flipping the yellowed pages of one of your favourite novels.
You lick your lips. “Look, I’m sorry about your dad…but you can’t be here.” He doesn’t leave your bed, engulfed in his reading. Your brows knit. “Get out of my room, Oliver,” you repeat, folding your arms as you approach the bed.
His cobalt gaze finally settles on you. He places the book on the night table, slow and unhurried as he gets to his feet.
Your pulse soars as he inches closer.
“Or what? You’ll scream?” he challenges. He circles you, gauging you in a way that summons a picture of a lion stalking its prey in your head. Your blood curdles when Oliver’s breath caresses your nape. “Then you’ll have to explain what I’m doing in your room and make a scene.” His voice lowers to a taunting rasp. “Do you want to make a scene?”
Your voice comes out shaky. “What do you want?”
Oliver takes a deep breath while placing his hands on your shoulders. His thumbs trace a slow path along the column of your neck. His lips graze your earshell.
“I want you to come over here, lie on this bed and spread your legs like a good girl for me.” You suck in a sharp breath. His fingers drag down your arm as he adds, “I’m feeling…peckish.”
When you don’t move, he releases a deep sigh.
“...Or I can tell Felix everything.”
Your heart starts hammering in your chest. “What?” you exhale, spinning to face him.
Oliver smiles.
“You guys are great right now. He says you’re the best you’ve ever been. No more lies. No more secrets.” Oliver bends close to you, his smile expanding. “How do you think he’ll react when I tell him that we fucked…” He pauses and you hold your breath. “And that you’ve lied to him about your family this entire year.”
Goosebumps spread across your flesh. You stumble back, your eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. “H-How do you know about that?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, Oliver takes small steps forward, causing you to retreat until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. He places his hands on each side of you. His gaze traces the motion of your neck as you swallow the lump in your throat.
“I…It’s not the right time of the month right now,” you lamely offer.
Oliver’s blue eyes rise as he sinks to his knees in front of you. Tingles bounce over your skin as he rolls your plaid skirt up your thighs.
“And you think it’s something I’m worried about?”
A moan tears from your throat when he buries two fingers inside your core without a warning.
“From now on when I tell you to spread your legs for me, you do as I say,” Oliver informs, his fingers curving inside you. You choke on your breath. “Don’t make me repeat myself. Do you understand?” The threat laced in his tone scatters ice in your veins.
“Y-Yes.”
“Yes, Oliver,” he corrects.
“Yes…Oliver,” you sputter, legs tensing as his digits reach deeper inside you.
“I’m sure it’ll be a summer to remember.”
Between uneven breaths, you stammer, “W-What do you mean?”
He strokes under your thigh absently.
“Oh didn’t Felix tell you?” He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “I’ve been invited to Saltburn, as a guest.”
When Oliver leans away, he’s smiling from ear to ear. Excitement sways in his cobalt orbs as he studies your crestfallen expression.
“I know. I’m looking forward to it too.”
#saltburn#saltburn fanfiction#oliver quick#oliver quick x reader#dark!oliver quick#dark!oliver quick x reader#dark!fic
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Hot to Go
Pairing: Emily Prentiss × Fem!Reader
For: Anonymous Request, filling the slot of praise kink for @cmkinkbingo2024
EXPLICIT CONTENT, SMUT
Content Warnings: Strapon (reader receiving), introducing new things in bedroom, soft!Dom Emily, description of sex toys, squirting, inexperienced reader, use of baby as a pet name
Summary: You find Emily's suggestion to spice things up very appealing.
Author's Note: Holy shit when I tell you I have never been sicker. I literally was typing gibberish thinking it made sense. Anyways, dw, this is hot, I promise.
Feedback is always welcome!
Requests are OPEN!
You stared at Emily as she came home, scraping your food around on your plate haphazardly until she was finished unpacking. Her trained eyes immediately read your body language, setting off red flags in her brain.
"Hey, is something wrong?"
You tensed up at the sound of her sultry voice. After she came back from a case, you typically gave her a massage before letting your hands wander. And sometimes, the roles were reversed.
Her smooth, soft hands caressed your muscles, relieving every ache while simultaneously growing the one in your core.
You snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of her voice, setting your plate in the sink. "I, um, I saw your package."
Her face fell slightly, although you could see a burning curiosity beginning to kindle. She knew, of course, exactly what you had found. She had purchased a strap on, nothing unimaginable, about five inches. Emily took a small step towards you before reaching her hands out.
You took them gratefully, a little bit nervous about where this was going but ready to explore.
"Last week, I was thinking. I'm usually on top in the bedroom, and I know we've already used toys, but you've never tried this."
Your face flushed, already aware of your inexperience when it came to your relationships with women. But Emily was always patient, asking questions and putting boundaries in place. She truly was the perfect partner.
So that's why with a shaky breath, you nodded, giving her a kiss. "I'd like to try that."
So that's how you found yourself on the bed five minutes later, your legs spread and knees pressed to your chest. She had been properly prepping you for a while, but you were desperate.
"Em, please, I want you."
She turned away, grabbing the harness and fastening it carefully.
"Just relax, baby. I'll take care of you."
Emily positioned herself at your entrance, rubbing the spongy tip up and down your dripping slit. The teasing was making you even more hot and bothered, which she could easily tell. "Ready for me?" She waiting for your nod of affirmation before slowly pressing inside.
You gasped involuntarily, feeling the head of the cock begin to breach you. She drove it in carefully, like she was trying not to break you. As hesitant as you were before, you wanted to feel the full spectrum of what she had to offer. "The whole thing." You said, not even realizing it was out loud.
She nodded, concentration beading on her brow. "Is this what you want?" She asked as the leather harness hit your thighs.
You shook your head, savoring the feeling of her sheathed deep inside you. "I need you to be rough, like you usually are."
She bit her lip, looking the opposite of the dominating figure she usually was in the bedroom.
"Are you sure? This is something new and I don't-"
Her voice trailed off as you began rocking against her, grinding yourself up and down the rubber. She looked down for a second before deciding to begin a steady pace.
Both of your moans filled the room, echoing off the walls and going back into your cores. She moved inside you with a purpose, hitting that button with every stroke. Your face was contorted in pleasure, and she committed it to memory.
Emily watched you writhe and moan beneath her with a sly smile, unable to help fondling your bouncing tits. "Oh baby, you're taking my cock so well."
You nodded at her words, eager to please as you rutted against her to assist in your pleasure. When she began to circle your clit with a single finger, the sensation made you shudder, your whole body quaking as it surrendered to her touch. She saw this and knew it, urging you closer to that orgasm you knew you were about to hit. "Come on baby, let me see you coat my cock. Just like that."
She didn't speed up, or go harder, just kept doing the same thing she had been to get the best reaction. And you knew you were a goner the second you heard a sloshing noise from between your legs. Almost immediately, a gush of liquid emanated from between your thighs.
She fucked you through your orgasm, making sure to slowly bring you down with words of encouragement before sliding the cock out from between your legs.
"How was it?"
You just nodded, too dazed to truly respond. She laughed at that, cleaning you up and leaving the toy on the corner of the bed, ready for your inevitable request of a second round
#criminal minds#writers on tumblr#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#fanfic#reqs open#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss smut
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a request for maybe some george smut after he comes back from the useless hotline tour that we werent able to go on ?? so like he hasnt seen us in a while
the second george steps into his bedroom, he drops his bags and heads for the shower. he knows you're on your way over, having been waiting by your phone all day for him to let you know he's back. so when your phone dinged, you were already halfway out the door, tripping over your own feet trying to get there as soon as possible.
conveniently, you live about a ten-minute walk away, meaning you're used to seeing george every day. the two weeks he and max had been on tour were difficult, but you tried to make the best out of the situation and would call each other whenever you could.
a few minutes after he had got in the shower, you're at the flat taking the familiar path to his room. your heart pounds in anticipation as you undress quickly after closing the door, glad you'll finally be with him again.
the warm air surrounds you when you step inside the bathroom and lazily drag your eyes over his body. he's standing under the water, eyes closed and head thrown back, making you think of the more sinful times you'd seen him in this position.
"hi george." you say, a smile breaking out on his face when he sees you.
"hi darling. come here." he replies, arms outstretched toward you.
you step into the shower, letting him pull you into him as you wrap your arms around his neck. his arms tighten around you and you close your eyes, water cascading over you both. a comfortable silence sets in and several minutes pass before either of you speak.
"wish you could've come with us, you have no idea how much i missed you. i even struggled to fall asleep." george admits, his cheeks turning slightly red at the confession.
"really?" you raise your eyebrows at him to which he nods, "i missed you too. had to cuddle the teddy you got me instead. wasn't the same."
your hands untangle from his hair and cup his jaw, connecting your lips in a kiss. as the water continues to flow, the kiss grows more passionate. george's hands travel further down, one landing on your ass and squeezing it, the other pressed flat against your lower back to pull you closer to him.
"george," you don't mean for it to come out so breathless, but when his lips detach from yours to trail kisses down your neck, you can't help it, "you've literally just stepped through the door."
"mhm. but, i also currently have my sexy, loving, amazing girlfriend, who i've missed so much, naked in my shower. so, i don't understand the issue." he counters, making you giggle.
two fingers make their way between your legs and start toying with your clit before sliding into you, the sudden stretch causing your knees to buckle. you can feel his cock against your thigh, so you begin pumping him at the same pace he's fingering you, steadily building up your orgasm.
he curls his fingers, repeatedly hitting that spot inside you and your orgasm washes over you within minutes, hands scratching at his back. your eyes squeeze shut and you clench around his fingers, moans filling the room while you ride out your high.
"fuck, baby." you pant, trying to catch your breath.
a proud smirk is plastered on george's face, "you good?"
"so good. your turn."
you go to drop to your knees to return the favour, but he's quick to stop you and shake his head. when a pout appears on your lips, he kisses it away.
"as amazing as that would be, i need to be inside you, like now." he pleads and grips your hips, moving you until your back is pressed against the shower wall.
contradicting his words, he slowly drags his cock through your folds, letting the tip bump your clit a few times. but you're impatient, so you replace his hand with yours and align him with your entrance, jaw dropping as he pushes in.
"fuck, you feel so good, shit." he groans, hands on your hips keeping you steady while he fucks up into you.
he starts off slow, letting you adjust, but as your moans and whimpers grow more desperate, so do his thrusts. the only two words leaving your mouth are 'fuck' and 'george', his ego growing and determination to make you cum doubling.
a particularly harsh thrust has you crying out, holding onto him tighter. the sound of skin slapping echoes around the bathroom, more than likely being heard over the water that's still running.
"you close darling, yea? you gonna cum?" he leans down, connecting your lips once again, not giving you time to respond.
the knot in your stomach is dangerously close to snapping and he knows, one of his hands leaving your hips to rub tight circles on your clit.
"please george." you whimper, clenching around him so tight he swears his brain short circuits.
"cum for me."
a whine escapes your lips and you throw your head back, letting your second orgasm take over your body. his rhythm falters as you cum around him, raking your nails up his back until they're digging into his shoulders.
george's head drops to your shoulder, thrusting into you a few times before pulling out, spilling over your thighs with a moan. both of your chests are heaving while you try to even out your breathing and he places multiple kisses to your shoulder and neck.
"well, that was quite the welcome home." george chuckles, "might leave more often if that's what i get when i come back."
"don't you dare."
--------
a low whistle comes from behind george as he enters the kitchen. you're curled up in his bed, having had a proper shower after his 'welcome home', and he's gone to grab you some water in just a pair of joggers, not realising bright red scratch marks are all over his back.
"take it y/n is here then?" chris chuckles, eyeing george from the sofa.
"uh, yea? how'd you know?" he furrows his brows in confusion since there's no sign of your things in the kitchen or living room.
before chris can answer, arthur hill walks in, eyes widening when he notices the marks too.
"damn george, what the hell happened to you?"
"y/n." chris replies, not taking his eyes off the tv.
"ah, right." arthur nods in understanding with a smirk on his face.
deciding to ignore their comments, george walks back to his room, being met with your horrified expression when he turns around.
"george! did you actually go to the kitchen like that?" you groan and he nods, confused, "there's marks all over your back. it's so obvious we've just fucked."
well, that explains it.
a/n not proofread sorry <33 hope you enjoyed!
#george clarke#george clarkey#arthurtv#chaoscrew#sidemen#arthur hill#tiktok#george clarkey x reader#george clarke x reader#blurbs#george clarkey imagines#george clarke imagines#blurb#youtube#youtuber imagine#youtuber x reader#youtuber imagines#george clarkey imagine#george clarke imagine#george clarkey smut#george clarke smut#george clarkey blurbs#george clarke blurbs#george clarkey blurb#george clarke blurb#chrismd#wroetoshaw#harry lewis
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Finally Giving In (Dean x Reader x Sam)
summary: you're close friends with the winchester brothers, and have been sleeping with dean for awhile, what happens when sam wants you too?
warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, gn!reader *except that a belly bulge is mentioned*, eiffel towering LOL, pet names (baby, sweetheart), let me know if i missed any!
word count: roughly 1k
A/N: GUYS ITS MY TUMBLRVERSARY!!! i can't believe i've been here for 3 years (feels like it's been forever though). i've NEVER EVER posted my writing on here, i've been too nervous...but today i'm changing that :))
here's a litte nsfw fic with the winchester brothers (that i literally started writing in a sudoku book while i was at work...?) ok ily guys please feel free to leave feedback <3
you're face down, ass up, dean pounding you into the bed. completely cockdrunk, you don't even notice his younger brother walk into the room until dean chuckles.
"i see you're finally giving in," he says with a smirk.
you understand him through your haze, confused why he'd be saying that to you.
dean leans down to whisper next to your ear, "you gonna let sammy have a turn?"
you moan, finally realizing what's going on, clenching around dean while turning your head to face sam. he looks nervous, but once he meets your eyes, his demeanor changes. sam's eyes rake down your body as dean continues to fuck you.
"let me have her," sam rasps.
dean groans but relents, knowing how much his brother wants this. with one final (hard) thrust, he pulls out, leaving you a whimpering mess. sam walks over to you, and turns you on your back with gentle hands. still fully clothed, the man towers over you. you start sobering up and realize what's actually about to happen.
you've always wanted both of the winchester brothers in unholy ways, but would gladly take just dean. now you were about to take your sweet sammy too. you feel a wave of heat rush through you, flushing your skin. sam has a warm smile on his face, all his love and desire for you evident.
you smile back, "hi," you whisper.
sam laughs softly, "hi."
you reach out and grab the hem of his shirt, "can i take this off?"
he nods immediately. you had seen both the men shirtless before, but never had the oppotunity to really look at sam. you trace your fingers over his abdomen, sliding your hands over his v-line. he feels his cock twitch, and as much as he wants to take things slow, he can't wait any longer. he slides his pants off, then pulls you even closer to him, letting you feel just how hard he is in his boxers. you gasp at the slight friction, still on edge from dean.
sam wraps your legs around himself, grinding into you without breaking eye contact...you feel like you could melt. you whine, eager to see him-to feel him.
"i know baby, i know."
his voice is like honey, and you just want a taste. as if he can read your mind, he leans down to kiss you softly as he slides his boxers down, and when you separate, you glance down to see the most beautiful cock you have ever seen (sorry dean). sam is long and thick, and you silently worry if he will even fit. he slides his cock against you with a groan, becoming more impatient by the second.
"is this ok?" he says, his cock sitting at your entrance.
"yes, please sammy."
he curses as he slowly slides into you, taking it as slow as possible, as you're already hissing at the stretch. once he's buried to the hilt, he gives you a second to adjust, before carefully pulling out.
both of you, completely lost in pleasure, seem to forget that dean is in the room, until he speaks up.
"fuck, this is even hotter than i thought it would be," he drawls, walking to your side. "does sammy feel good sweetheart?" he says as he brushes your hair back from your face.
all you can do is groan and nod, a smirk forming on both the boys' faces. as sam picks up the pace, your mouth is permanently open in pleasure, and dean sees an opportunity. he comes to kneel beside you on the bed, and you turn your head to watch him stroke his cock. when your eyes meet, his grin grows.
"you want me baby?"
you nod, scrambling to pull him closer. the second you get his cock in your mouth, you moan around it, the salty taste hitting your tongue.
sam, just a little jealous that he no longer has your full attention, lifts your legs over his shoulders and presses forward, the deeper angle making tears start to form in your eyes. you can feel him deeper than you ever thought possible, as he reaches a hand around to press down on your belly.
"you feel that?"
you pop off of dean with a, "yes!"
sam chuckles, feeling a little cocky, "you ever been this deep, dean?"
dean grumbles, "course i have."
he guides your mouth back to his cock in annoyance at his little brother. between sam's ministrations and the pure filth that is you sucking dean's cock, you can feel yourself getting close. sam feels you clench around him, and knows what's coming (literally LOL).
"mmm, i'm close too baby. where do you want it?"
"inside!" you say around dean, the added vibration making him moan.
"fuck...me too sweetheart? want me down your throat?"
you nod eagerly, feeling that a few more thrusts might get you there. and that feeling is correct, because soon you're reaching your high, squeezing sam like a vice and moaning around dean. the boys both take a few more thrusts, and finish at nearly the same time, filling you up from both ends. you feel warm and fuzzy inside, whether that's from their cum, or from your love for them, who knows.
dean pulls out first, and sam follows, leaving you gasping in an attempt to calm down. dean leaves to go get you a glass of water and a washcloth, as sam softly kisses your face and neck.
"i've been wanting you like that for so long sweetheart," he mumbles into your skin.
"me too sammy, thank you," you say with a soft smile.
he smiles back and leans in to kiss you, the urgency gone, but the passion still there. you tangle your hands into his hair and pull back, giggling. you can't believe you finally get to have both your boys like this...
A/N: AHHH OK i hope you liked this as much as i enjoyed writing it! i just recently started watching supernatural, so i hope this isn't too ooc, but i just love these two so much! feel free to leave feedback!
#baby's first smut#(at least on tumblr)#sam winchester smut#dean winchester smut#sam winchester x reader#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader x sam#spn smut
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Ramshackle, 4, fluff :]
You have very fun writings! Love to see what you end up doing for the event, make sure to take breaks and not to burn yourself out!
thank you so much!! and i will 🫶🫶
Fox in Denial || Fellow Honest
For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "I'm NOT jealous" ; Genre: Fluff
The door creaked open as you stepped into the cozy, albeit cluttered, living space you shared with Fellow and Gidel. The scent of Gidel’s freshly made stew wafted through the air, and you couldn’t help but smile as you kicked off your shoes. “I’m home!” you called out.
“Finally,” Fellow said, lounging dramatically on the couch, his arm draped over the backrest like some stage actor caught mid-performance. “What, did you get lost on the way back? Or maybe you found someone else more fun to hang out with, huh?”
The mischievous glint in his eye made you laugh. “Oh, absolutely. I was swept away by an entirely different crowd of fox beastmen. They had better jokes than you, too.”
Fellow sputtered. “Excuse me?! Better jokes? No chance. My jokes are premium grade-A material!”
“Sure, sure.” You crossed the room, shrugging off your coat. Fellow was still staring at you, though his posture had shifted slightly. His tail flicked once, betraying his irritation.
Gidel, stirring the stew in the corner, raised a hand and pointed at Fellow with a snicker-like huff, his ears twitching in amusement.
“Don’t you start,” Fellow shot back at him before turning to you. “And I’m not jealous, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Oh, I wasn’t thinking that,” you said, biting back a grin. “But now that you bring it up…”
“I’m not!” he insisted, sitting up straighter. His silver tongue seemed to fail him for a moment as his face flushed ever so slightly. “Why would I care if you—if you’re out there—uh, doing whatever?”
“Fellow, you’re literally fuming,” you teased, stepping closer. “Your tail’s all puffed up. Did Gidel have to stop you from pacing earlier?”
Gidel gave a soft wheeze that sounded suspiciously like laughter and nodded enthusiastically, earning a glare from Fellow.
“Traitor,” Fellow muttered under his breath before huffing loudly. “Well, fine! I might have been worried about you, okay? That’s perfectly reasonable. But jealous? No way. Not my style.”
“Not at all?” you pressed, moving to sit beside him. He froze slightly when you leaned in close, your face just inches from his. “Not even a little?”
“N-not even a—” He cut himself off with a squeak as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. His protests died in his throat as his whole body stiffened, his tail giving an embarrassed flick.
“You’re ridiculous, Fellow,” you murmured, resting your chin on his shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about me, okay? It’s always you I come back to.”
Fellow went utterly silent for a moment, his ears drooping just slightly as he slowly, awkwardly returned your hug. “Well… yeah, I mean, obviously,” he mumbled. “I am pretty great.”
Gidel made a loud, wheezing sound behind you, and you glanced over to see him holding his sides, shaking with silent laughter.
“What’s so funny?!” Fellow snapped, glaring over your shoulder. “I—this isn’t funny, Gidel! This is touching and heartfelt!”
You pulled back slightly to grin at him. “Touching and heartfelt, huh? Should I start writing it down for your future performances?”
“Don’t push your luck!” he exclaimed, though the flustered expression on his face betrayed him. His arms stayed wrapped around you a moment longer than necessary before he quickly let go and leaned back, trying to reclaim his usual swagger.
“Well,” he said with an exaggerated flick of his tail, “next time you’re late, maybe send me a letter or something. Gidel and I are busy people, you know. We can’t just drop everything to worry about you!”
Gidel pointedly rolled his eyes and shook his head, and you stifled a laugh.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, leaning in to ruffle his hair. He squawked indignantly but made no real effort to stop you.
“I’m still not jealous!” he yelled as Gidel doubled over in silent laughter again.
“Sure you’re not,” you said with a grin, watching as Fellow tried and failed to keep a smug smile from tugging at his lips. Maybe he wasn’t that honest after all.
Masterlist
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#fellow honest#fellow honest x reader#ernesto foulworth x reader#ernesto foulworth
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MY ONLY LOVE, MY ONLY ONE ✦ LCY
SYNOPSIS ✦ you and anton’s relationship through the years - because maybe not all love has to be young.
“if we’re both still single by the time we’re thirty , let’s get married.”
TAGS ✦ anton x f!reader, one-shot, angst, fluff, non-idol au, yn has mommy issues, slice of life, bffs to lovers, slow-burn
WARNINGS ✦ mentions of drinking at a bar, reader isn't really referred to as y/n or _, just "you" 😭
WC ✦ 4k
PLAYLIST ✦ only by leehi, still into you by paramore, every summertime by niki, toothbrush by dnce, bad by wavetoearth
AUTHOR'S CORNER ✦ was originally meant for heeseung, but i changed it lolz also ik i said i'd post it in a few days but i finished it early and wanted to put it out so i hope u enjoy!
13
snobby, proud, self-centered - these were the words that described anton's first impression of you.
he'd just moved to town, tagging along with his parents to the local mall when his mother stopped in her tracks, causing him to nearly walk into her. he looked at her confusedly when she suddenly gasped, and squealed someone's name, before she practically ran up to another woman, who he'd soon find out to be your own mother.
"guys, this is my old friend from college," she'd told him and his dad. "and this is her daughter," she said as she gestured to you.
you'd been few inches taller than him, so he was intimidated by you and immediately got the impression you were looking down on him. (well, you were, literally.)
"why don't you two kids go to the arcade? here, my daughter has a game card," your mother spoke as she ushered you two away whilst the adults went somewhere else to catch up. anton and you awkwardly stood next to each other as the parents left you two alone.
once they were out of sight, you seemed to deflate; the intimidating aura wiped and replaced by a more relaxed and amicable ‘you’. somehow, you felt more human, and he let out his own steady breath when you smiled and held out your hand for him to shake.
“sorry, my mother can be a lot to handle. you play DDR?”
turns out, you were way more fun when your mother wasn’t around.
16
holding hands was something you two did often.
your friends would often tease you two about it, but neither you nor anton thought much of it. it was completely platonic, right?
but nonetheless, you two were relentlessly asked if you were dating, even when one or the other was in a relationship with someone else. in fact, your closeness had led to your first and most recent boyfriend breaking up with you.
"can you believe it? everyone knows we're literally just friends," you ranted to anton later that night. "so what if we're close? he himself had his own girl best friend - several in fact!"
anton hummed to let you know he was listening, busy working on an assignment that he'd spent far too long procrastinating.
"i mean, how insecure can he be? is it really that unbelievable for a boy and a girl to have a completely platonic relationship?" you paced around his room, not caring whether or not he was listening. you just needed to get the day's frustrations out - and where better than anton's comfy and personalised room?
something about the hanging leaves, band posters, the warm lamp in the corner lighting up the room, it was your favourite place to hide when your mother would be in another one of her moods.
"i'm never going to date again. ugh."
"you sure about that?" anton half-heartedly asked.
"yes. if i have to sacrifice our friendship to kiss some guy, then no thanks."
anton turned to you with a smile playing at his lips. he didn't take you seriously at all.
"anton..." you whined. this wasn't funny to you.
"sorry, sorry," he said, but you could still hear the laugh in his voice. instead, he took your hands in his apologetically, the warmth a familiar gesture.
"if you never date again, then i won't either."
"anton, you've never dated."
"well, it's like you said. if i have to sacrifice our friendship to kiss some girl, then it's a no for me too."
he stared at you sincerely. you guys knew you both would probably still go on to date other people, but the promise felt real anyway. what with the way he was staring up at you.
"swearing yourself to celibacy for me? how sweet," you relented, sitting down on his bed, your hands still clasped in his.
suddenly, an idea popped into your head.
using your linked hands to pull him closer, his chair rolled over, knocking against your knees.
"anton, let's make a pact: if we're still both single by the time we're thirty, then let's get married."
18
graduation came faster than anton expected, and he only realises then that he's known you for five years now.
as expected, you and him had taken lots of photos together (wait, when did he get taller than you?), and eventually your families decided to dine together at some fancy restaurant after the ceremony. it a celebration of the two of you leaving high school, and moving onto the next chapter of your lives: university. something you were particularly stressed about.
"why is applying for uni so hard?? i'm just a girl - just accept me!"
anton could empathise with that sentiment - he'd been an exceptional student, yet his lack of curriculars had ended him up on three waitlists, and with one rejection. not to mention how complicated the process was, what with all the different requirements for every university. honestly, he felt like he'd been lied to by all those people telling him not to worry.
looking over at the parents busy in conversation, he noticed that the both of you had finished your meals already.
"can we go? i'm gonna take her out for a drive," he asked them, gesturing to you.
surprised by the sudden plan, you looked to your parents for approval.
"aren't you going to stay for desserts?" your dad asked.
"i'm sure we'll find something sweet on the way," anton replied simply.
"well, i'm okay with it," your dad agreed, looking at anton's parents who nodded back.
you watched him turn to your mother, a silent argument spoken through their eyes. she reluctantly sighs, a sign of surrender, and you cheered on the inside as anton pulled you away and out of the restaurant.
going for drives was something you and anton always did when either was stressed or upset. windows down and music blared as the sky turned an array of colours, it really felt like the movies in moments like this. you sighed contentedly, head propped up on your elbow as you stared outside. the wind combined with ONLY by LeeHi being the only sounds between you and anton.
"ah, i'm not sure if i can do this whole university thing," you confessed your thoughts. "if applying is already this hard, i can't imagine the real thing."
"it won't be this bad. c'mon, we'll be together, right?" anton's voice replied.
"always."
silence engulfed the two of you again.
"i want to do something crazy. something that'll make her mad."
"yeah? any ideas for this crazy plan of yours?"
"hmm... what about..." you trailed off, thinking for a while.
"what about a month-long trip around europe?"
anton's head snapped to you, eyebrows reaching his hairline.
"seriously? she'll actually lose it."
"not that she already hasn't already done so several times before," you grumbled into your elbow. "besides, i'm always sticking to her stupid rules. i just want to do something 'rebellious' before we get thrown back into classes and assignments and homeworks and blah blah blah..."
a pause. then, “let's do it. where do you want to start?"
"really? you'll do it with me?" you perk up, finally looking at him.
"duh," he rolls his eyes, as if you ever leaving him alone was such an unimaginable thought. "let's figure out those visas first though," he added as an afterthought.
19
2 Notifications yn : you free later this week? yn : feels like i haven't seen u in forever
anton sees the notifications later that night, and sighs as he pushes his hair out of his eyes. he takes a quick look at his monthly calendar.
to be truthful, the two of you had been swamped with finals and work this past semester, so you hadn’t been able to hang out as often as you used to.
seeing that the next part of his coursework wasn't due until next saturday, he decided he had just enough time.
anton: what about tmrw? 12pm at café bleu
"i was thinking..." you started. "what if we do another month-long trip this summer? like we did last year.”
anton grunted at the thought.
"honestly, i've stayed up countless nights this sem for this stupid assignment. i wanted to catch up on sleep thus summer.” i don't think i really have the time for another trip.
"oh. that's okay! we're both going back home anyway, so i'll just come over to yours like always."
"sure, if you want to watch me sleep all day."
but the way he said that - it was a clear no. he didn't have the time, not when he was going to spend all summer trying to catch up on missed sleep.
"never mind, then."
the waitress placed your orders in front of you, and the two of you began to eat in terse silence.
looking at him closely, you notice the darkened eyebags, the pale skin, the way he hadn't even bothered to wear a nice outfit. anton had been pretty cold towards you lately, and he felt guilty, but he couldn't help it. stress was a bully everyone was a victim of.
seeing the way your demeanour seemed to shrink, he was hit with a wave of shame and regret, and took hold of your hand.
"hey, remember that show we watched in senior year? it has a prequel movie coming out soon. we should watch it together."
you perked up immediately. "really? when?"
"november, i think."
he frowned when you faltered, but then you said something that completely sent his heart to the ground.
"i can’t. anton, i'm going on a study exchange programme."
19
talking to jake was easy. talking to him was nice.
in the three months since jake arrived from australia, anton and him had quickly become good friends, (although he would never be able to replace you). so of course he's sad that the exchange programme was coming to an end soon, and jake would have to leave for home.
however, that meant you'd be coming back too, and he was far more excited about that. the past three months had felt empty without you, even if you were a bit absent from his life for some time before the programme started.
so anton finds himself at café bleu in the same spot you'd told him about your plans, but this time with jake on the other side.
"we'll stay in touch though, yeah?" jake assured him. "i'll definitely come visit some time, this place is really great."
"i'll be looking forward to it."
"i think you're more looking forward to me leaving though, aye? what with your friend coming back too."
at the mention of you, anton couldn't stop the smile from spreading on his face. he really did miss you.
"yeah, she's my rock. always there for me - well, except for these past three months. hopefully you'll get to meet her when you visit."
"i'd love to meet the girl you've been talking about this whole time!"
"you'd get along well," anton nodded, imagining the three of you sharing a slice of cake at this very café. "hey, why don't i call her right now, and you can meet her? although it's just online."
jake nodded eagerly, "why not?"
pulling up his phone, anton quickly swiped to the favourites tab on his contacts app, and called you. after just two rings, you pick up.
"hey! what's up?" your voice greets him, bringing an instant smile to his face.
"nothing much, just wanted to introduce you to jake - he's the student who came in your place as part of the exchange programme," he introduced the guy, turning on his camera.
"oh, hi!" he hears you say after he turns the screen to face the other.
"hi! nice to finally meet you. hope australia treated you well,” jake starts smoothly.
"trust me, it has. everyone so nice and welcoming, i just love it here."
"sounds like you've settled in nicely, i'm almost sorry you'll have to pack up and leave again. but hey, you'll be back home and reunited with this guy, right?" jake laughed.
"well... about that."
anton knew something was up - your voice had that same tone as when you dropped the bomb that was you leaving for the next three months. just before you said your next line, anton felt his heart sink again like it did the first time.
"i've decided to transfer here.
"anton, i'm staying in australia."
22
once again, anton finds himself in a graduation gown. but for the first time, you're not at his side.
looking at the photos his mother took of him on her phone, he couldn't help but feel a little upset by the lack of you next to him. for the past nine years, he's never had much solo photos; you were always with him, sharing these moments.
but this time 'round, he's completely alone, and your friendship has devolved to instagram mutuals, reduced to liking each other's posts and reacting to stories. the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
surprisingly, your mother still came to watch him graduate, even if he was only ever just her friend's son.
"oh, anton. you've grown so much since i first met you."
"thank you, auntie," he says awkwardly.
"you know, i miss the two of you. my daughter's all the way in another country, so i barely see you anymore..." she trails off in thought. in the past few years since you left, she seemed to soften up in your absence, no doubt missing you despite the strained relationship between the two of you when you left.
"oh! have you seen the photos? she just graduated herself last week," she fished for her phone in her bag, and began to swipe through her camera roll to show him.
"i wish i could've been there, but i'm not sure she would've wanted that. she's lucky her dad attended instead."
anton shakes his head. "not true, i'm sure she would've wanted you there."
but he wasn’t sure. have your feelings about your mother changed? or were you still upset with her? he doesn’t know. he hasn’t known much about you in a long time.
"i guess we'll never know, will we?"
swiping through more photos, anton's eye caught onto a few of them, where you were standing particularly close to another guy.
"auntie, who's this?"
"ah, him? why, that's her boyfriend, of course." she then turned to look at him oddly. "hasn't she told you?"
he frowned, and shook his head. he's a little off put by the fact that you didn't bother telling him, but then again. you two haven't exactly been friends in a very long time.
and just like that, memories of a pact resurface in his head. it was never going to come true, wasn't it? but if you ended up marrying this guy, anton could never bring himself to watch.
the sound of his friends' voices brought him back to reality. "hey, anton! come over here-" and he forced himself to shake off the thoughts, joining the group instead.
24
anton had been learning to live life without you for the past four or five years now. he had a new friend group, a nice job in the city, his own apartment, all without his best friend. it was hard to unlearn all the mannerisms he didn't even realise he had for you, not until he would get home from the grocery and realise he bought two boxes of sushi like you used to share, or when he'd almost bought a second, folding mattress for when you'd come over for a sleepover, or even just holding an extra hair tie or two on his wrist in case you needed one.
and that was all in the past now, he's finally began to move on from mourning the loss of your friendship. he only thinks about you once in a blue moon, and his life feels like it's no longer on pause.
but you were always cruel to him.
"wait, what?"
right when he'd begun to move on, you came back.
anton stared at you in shock; when he heard the doorbell ring that day, he'd never have expected you to be on the other side. an intelligent 'wait, what?' was all he could muster when he finally registered just what, or who he was seeing.
"hi," you say in that familiar voice of yours. and you almost sound out of breath, although its clear you hadn't run there.
he finally lets you in after a moment, and you explain how you're moving back, and starting at a local company. you tell him about life back in australia, the friends and experiences you made. you tell him about the past five years of your life as if it was just any normal day after high school.
as if you hadn't just completely left him on his own, his other half gone with you.
although the conversation is stilted and awkward, and theres a gap between you that feels wider than the distance between australia and home, anton's still glad to see you. it almost feels unreal, and he wouldn't believe any of this was real if he couldn't feel your weight pushing down on the sofa, or the very essence of you in his living room.
you and anton agree to get coffee some time after you've settled back in, and he asks if you need any help.
"yes, please! its like i brought my whole life from australia back with me, what with all the boxes i need to unpack."
and so, leaning against the door frame, anton watches you walk away again, catching himself wondering if it would be the last time he'd see you again in a while. he had to keep reminding himself that you were back for good.
"oh, and me and my boyfriend broke up."
anton sucks in a breath, and slips his hands in his pocket to hide the shaking. he wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel - angry? relieved? sorry? anton hasn't known how to feel in years.
"just wanted you to know," you spoke into the air, after you received no response from him.
so with an awkward wave, you leave him once again, with a promise to see each other soon.
27
"happy birthday!" people greet as they enter the bar, giving anton a quick hug.
"thank you," he smiles back. "wow, twenty-seven. i feel so old."
"twenty-seven isn't that old," you tell him, hugging him from behind as a surprise. he chuckles and holds onto your arms clasped around his middle for a bit before letting you go sit across him.
"think about it, we've been friends for longer than we haven't!"
"including those four or five years we barely spoke?" you raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip from your glass.
"shh, what years? we've always been as thick as thieves," anton grins, pinching your cheek.
after you moved back, it didn't take that long to rekindle your previous relationship. somehow, you two picked up right where you left off, like there was never a period in your friendship filled with almost radio silence.
"you two," eunseok sighed with an exasperated but fond tone. "if i didn't know you guys were 'just friends', i would've thought you were dating."
"or married!" sohee shouts from somewhere.
you roll your eyes at your friends and coworkers, the guests. dating allegation were nothing new in your relationship, having suffered from them for over ten years now.
"we have been friends for a while now, huh? fourteen years is pretty crazy."
"i honestly can't remember a time when i didn't know you," anton agrees.
"being 'friends' for longer than you haven't is quite the achievement," wonbin remarks with a knowing look. "personally, i don't have toothbrushes and extra clothes at my house for my friends though."
all this talk of friends and friendship was making your head hurt.
"anton, remember the pact we made at sixteen?"
anton looked at you sharply, knowing exactly what you were referring to, but asking anyway. "no. remind me again?"
with a scoff and a smile, you said, without regard to the fact that everyone was half-listening, "when we promised we'd marry each other by thirty if we were both still single?"
clinks of glass and utensils falling around the two of you, your friends were suddenly more invested in the conversation, not even trying to hide their curiosity.
"you really want to talk about this right now? in front of everyone?" anton murmured, voice low enough just for you to hear.
you stared at him, and then continued.
"well, looks like there's three years left to our promise. three years left to run away from me." that pulled out some laughs.
anton just stared at you with a mix of surprise and uncertainty.
"well, i haven't run away for these last eleven years since, have i?"
whoops and cheers filled the bar; you yourself were surprised with anton's boldness and honesty. you always did wonder why he barely ever dated, only ever having a few flings here and there.
suddenly, you felt a little flustered by his bold declaration, and the implication that he'll wait out the remaining years.
"i..."
suddenly, anton's face morphed into a smirk as he took another sip from his own glass, eyes still on you.
"what's another three years?"
30
"ah, my mom keeps asking when i'm going to settle down," you whine to anton, sitting in his living room as you two share a late midnight snack.
something about it all feels nostalgic, whining and complaining about your mom to him, sitting in his comfy room (or this time, his apartment), with a vinyl record playing in the background. this is home, you decided.
what you don't tell him is that your mom had been more specific with her words.
(when are you and anton going to get married and settle down?? i want grandkids, you know!)
anton laughs lightly, feeding you another sushi. the whole atmosphere was quite domestic, and you wished you could spend the rest of your life like this; with him.
"some things never change, do they?" he remarks with a fond smile. and your heart melts a little.
(hopefully soon, mama.)
"isn't sushi a little heavy for a midnight snack?"
"well, it's not just any midnight, isn't it?" anton asks.
and he's right. it's actually a special one - the night before your birthday.
looking at the clock, you see that it's almost twelve, and you find yourself thinking back on the past twenty-nine years. anton's in most of the memories, something you weren't particularly bothered about. when you two spent that day at the arcade together, something about it all just felt right.
you've always loved change, always wanted more experiences. but one thing you wanted to stay the same forever, was anton being by your side. when you'd gone to australia, it was a slow realisation that some part of you was missing. only when you reunited with anton did you realise why that was.
the soft beeping noise of a clock brought you back from your thoughts, signalling that it was finally twelve o'clock. that you were finally thirty. hearing shuffling behind you, you turn to look at anton for the annual hug and cheer that made your whole birthday.
but instead, you watched in shock as anton sunk onto one knee, and pulled out a box.
"don't look so surprised, now," he chuckles awkwardly. "this was a long time coming."
"i know... i just. i didn't expect you'd do it as soon as i turned thirty," you laughed. "looks like someone couldn't wait any longer."
"can you blame a man who waited fourteen years?"
you shook your head before anton called our your name, even though he already had your full attention.
"my only love, i don't have to hide my feelings anymore. i love you."
with a deep breath, filled with years and years of longing, he finally asked.
"will you marry me?"
TAGLIST ✦ @yoursyuno @totheseok
#MUJEANS ✦ FICS#riize#anton riize#anton x reader#lee chanyoung#chanyoung x reader#anton fluff#anton scenarios#anton imagines#riize fics#anton fics#riize x reader#lee chanyoung x reader#riize anton x reader#anton one shot
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Suffer Pt. 4 | Lucifer x Reader
The time has come, babes, this could be the final part
I wanna say this part is 18+ , so MINORS go away
(This series is complete! All parts are listed on my master list and are linked below!)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
♡♡♡
"I'll see you, Lucifer."
"I hope so."
Even with high hopes, Lucifer anxiously paces his own workshop, twisting his grip on his cane and watching the minutes pass by. Literally. He would either pull out his phone and check the time, or peak up at the novelty clock hanging nearby, and scoff at how little time has passed since the last time he decided to look. To occupy his time, he would rummage through his piles of squeaky creations, scanning over them as if he had anything on his mind other than you. He'd walk in front of a mirror, fixing his lapels, straightening his tie, then questioning whether or not he should just change entirely. With one more pacing lap around the small room, he stopped in front of the mirror again, while brushing his hair back with his claws. The sudden glimmer of his wedding band reflecting some light caught his attention. He froze in front of his reflection, then shifted his gaze down to his left hand. He twisted it around as if he never noticed it until now, even after wearing it for 10,000 years. Why is it bugging him now?
Oh, yeah. He was about to see you in just a few minutes.
But that shouldn't upset him, you two were becoming friends again.
Lucifer broke his gaze from his hand and looked towards the large family painting still hung on the wall. He couldn't take it down. He had no idea why Lillith left, for all he knows, it could've been a perfectly valid reason. But she looks so happy in that picture. In fact, they all looked so happy. How did that happen? A combination of the clock chiming, and an alarm he set the day before, going off at the same time made him jump. He fumbled his phone into his suddenly sweaty claws, letting out a nervous yelp.
3:01PM
"Aw, Hell! I'm late!" Before snapping his fingers to open a portal to the hotel, he mindlessly slipped the ring off his finger and placed it carefully on his desk, leaving it alongside a family portrait.
—
You hummed your usual tune, the same one that calmed you and young Charlie, as you twisted and turned to examine your outfit. You were almost as nervous as Lucifer was. Well.. not really. He was a wreck. But why should you be nervous? Why would he be nervous? You two only agreed to meet up at the hotel and.. catch up some more. No activities were really planned, it was as if you simply wanted to hear each other's voices again. As if the late-night calls you were having weren't enough. It was a nice change though. No matter how late you were talking to each other, you slept like a rock the rest of the night. No need for some silly radio anymore.
Speaking of,
"Alastor, what did I say about knocking? Or even going through the door in general?" You questioned out loud, not even looking away from your figure in the reflection. The radio on your nightstand suddenly started playing a barely recognizable old-timey tune, and you could feel the radio static sensation growing in your chest, so you felt no need to break your concentration to look his way. You heard your bed creek next, only peeking in your reflection for a moment to catch Alastor sitting cross-legged on the edge of your bed.
"Isn't today your weekly Rosie visit? What do you want?" It's not like he was bugging you, but recently Alastor had been keeping close quarters. You found him sitting next to you a lot, a little too close, during exercises. Which was strange, considering he never really attended exercises until recently.
Obviously, he's been inviting himself into your room without permission, which caused him to interrupt some phone calls with the king. He's also been inviting you out to Cannibal Town more often, and even bringing some unannounced fresh-cooked meals for you. You wouldn't admit to the cannibal thing, but it's hard to avoid it after working in that bakery for so long. You didn't mind it, as long as it wasn't.. rare. So, you suppose it was nice of him to cook for you.
"Indeed! I’m assuming you'll be joining me, that is why you’re dressing so formally, correct? Rosie's been talking about you quite a lot, considering you've missed our last few outings." You could hear his teeth clench while he spoke his final words.
"All good things, I hope?" You had moved on to looking through a little jewelry box, occasionally pulling out necklaces and holding them up in the mirror to see how it'd look on you.
"Of course!" Alastor reassures, rising from the bed to stand behind you, his hands gently placed on your shoulders. He has to bend at the hips a bit to see his own face in the shorter mirror.
"Then, I'm sure she can handle one more lunch date without me. I'll join next time." You said, still rummaging through the little trinket box. With a victorious hum, you pulled out a little golden chain, with a snake charm that swirled into an S shape.
As you held it up to your neck, like you did with the rest, you felt Alastor's hands shift from your shoulders to take each end of the necklace, carefully pulling the chain around your neck to fasten it in the back. With a quick thank you, you pulled your hair to the side to assist him. His breath was hot against the back of your neck, sending an instinctive shiver down your spine. Alastor started to feel a bit flushed at the sensation, which surprised even him. The thought of sinking his teeth into the softest part of your neck, doing anything to keep your mind off of that damned angel, immediately flooded his mind. He fastened the necklace quickly, pulling away as fast as he could after that grotesque thought crossed his mind. He was sure that he was just hungry. He cleared his throat, stepping a good few feet away from you.
"So? How's this? Does it look okay with the dress?" Oh, it did. You tried your best to not concern yourself over what you wore, but Lucifer was always one to dress in his finest suits, so you'd hope to meet him at least halfway. Excuse the phrasing, but God bless Angel and his eye for fashion. You arrived in Hell before Charlie was even born, then essentially worked in uniforms up until you arrived in the hotel. Emphasizing that this was not a date, Angel found you a pretty little purple dress. It was perfectly fine as is, with thin straps, a skirt hugging your hips just slightly and stopping right below where your thighs meet. But he insisted you "spice it up", accessorizing you with a patterned corset, decorated in leafy designs and tied together with a silky ribbon at your back. It took you hours of convincing to even put it on for today. All this for just a hangout. What would you even do? Have dinner? Would Lucifer go into Pentagram City with you? What would happen if you stayed in the hotel?
"Not exactly my style, I prefer something with more.. coverage. But you look lovely either way." Alastor's words broke your train of thought and you immediately turned red, embarrassed by how lost in your own thoughts you got. You recovered and rolled your eyes at him, finding your phone and looking through it.
"I don't know why I asked, it's not like I'm dressing up for you." You said, Alastor watching you as you swipe through something and then smile at your phone.
"Then who might you be dressing up for, might I ask?" He asked with a sly grin, leaning foward on his cane, craning his neck to look at your whatever could be making you smile so brightly. You pulled your phone to your chest and glared at him.
"No one! ..Me! I'm dressing for myself! Is there a problem with that, Al?" You let out a little humph, before checking the time on your phone.
"He should be here soon.." you said softly, almost hoping he didn't hear you. "Tell Rosie I said hi, will you? I'm seeing Lucifer today." You said quickly as you left your room, hoping you could avoid his response by leaving in a hurry. Luckily you did. You felt the static running through you soften as you went down the stairs, looking at your phone as you did. With one more mental pep talk, you took a deep breath and opened the hotel's double doors.
"Heyyyy! You!" Lucifer stood eagerly, without a ring to fiddle with, he toyed with his clawed hands behind his back. You should respond. You should greet him, say hi, welcome him in, anything. But he stood there wearing a plum and black purple blazer, that stopped just at his waist. It was fitted nicely over a ruffled black top and dark trousers. Before you could stop yourself, you realized you had let your eyes trace his body up and down. Quickly meeting his eyes with a reddened face, you nervously chuckle, stepping aside to let him in.
"S-Sorry.. I- uhh.. Hi. Lucifer." You finally greet him, shutting the door as he enters the hotel.
"You look nice. Purple always looked good on you." He stated out loud. Purple? When was the last time you wore anything purple? Looking around the hotel, he examined any detail he might have missed from his last visit. Of course, that wasn't what he was really doing. He was trying his hardest to keep his eyes off of you, needing to let his heart rate slow.
After finally calming himself down, he turns to you with a grin, opening his mouth to say something- but what he saw was you gripping onto the hem of your skirt with a nervous look on your face, your eyes wide.
Purple always looked good on you.
"Are you okay? Sorry, did I - uh.. should I - " you quickly step away from him, waving your hands.
"N-No! You're fine! I'm okay, I just uh.. dinner! You want something to eat? Or.. we can check out the city-" Desperately trying to take the topic off your feelings, you threw out some ideas for the night.
"Oh! Okay, Dinner sounds great! We should probably stay in the hotel, but will.. will anyone else be joining us..?" He looked around the clearly empty room.
"Charlie and Vaggie just left to try and recruit some sinners, Angel's working and Husk avoids people if no one's the bar, so.. I think that it might just be us." You smiled. Why were you smiling? Maybe because they're contagious.
Alastor. The familiar grinning face comes trailing down the stairs, greeting you and you alone.
"Oh! Your Highness, I had no idea we'd have company!" He walked behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders again as he looked down at Lucifer.
"Al, I told you he was coming by." You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. Lucifer glared, immediately breaking the contact from him to look at you.
"Will he be joining?" Lucifer asked, in an agitated low tone.
"No, he's busy. Right? You were just leaving for Cannibal Town." You stressed, turning your head to look up at the towering demon. Lucifer wondered how you weren't intimidated by him? Your head barely reached the center of his chest.
"Of course, I wouldn't want to intrude! Just be careful with our little doll here, your majesty." He says, then leans closer to the crook of your neck. "And I thought I'd bring your cardigan, dear, it's a tad cold today." The sweater suddenly appears in his hands and he drapes it over your shoulders. It felt heavier than usual.
"Oh, um.. thanks.. Al." You clear your throat, shooting him the best smile you could muster in this embarrassing moment.
"Have fun with Rosie!" You finally said, essentially pushing Alastor out of the hotel's doors. None of that had to happen, he could've easily phased his way out of the hotel and you knew that. With a final sigh, you went back to Lucifer, taking off the sweater and folding it, before draping it over the couch in the lobby.
"What, not cold anymore? He was just trying to be nice." As much as you'd like to hear that as a joke, it had a sense of discomfort to it. You knew Lucifer didn't like Alastor; he made that clear multiple times. Considering he's been so kind to you though, you thought you had to at least try to defend him. But with Alastor's recent actions, and just how.. touchy... he's been, it's getter harder to try and explain his actions.
"It's Hell, Lucifer, it's never cold. It doesn't go with the dress anyway. Now, c’mon. I can make something quick in the kitchen." Trying to move past the subject, you take hold of his hand and guide him to the kitchen area.
You definitely cooked a lot more since you stayed in the hotel. Despite your mild cannibalistic tendencies, you loved making regular, flesh-free, food for everyone else. It was just who you are, you loved to dote. At this point, you were making meals for everyone, cooking specific courses for certain demons. Specializing in their favorites. It was no different than how you were when you were taking care of Charlie. A messy toddler had a constantly changing appetite, and Lucifer always seemed to admire how well you could keep up with that. I mean.. despite kissing a married king, who was also your boss, you were actually good at your job.
The cooking process went by fast, you put on an apron before starting to cook, which Lucifer could argue looked adorable on you. But he would never admit it. He simply sat on a nearby counter, his legs crossed over each other as he leaned back on the palm of his hands. You recreated something that used to be a favorite back at the manor, and of course, it was delicious. The two of you didn't even make it to the table. You plated everything and went towards the door, but before you could leave, you turned to see Lucifer already working on his plate as he sat on the counter. You laughed at him, before attempting to join his side. This was probably for the best, sitting at a table while eating seemed so.. Date-y.
You struggled to hop up to the counter without flashing anyone. Dammit, Angel. With a quick motion, Lucifer had his hands on your waist and he lifted you with ease onto the cold tabletop. With a nervous exchange of thanks, he hikes back up the counter and sits next to you. It felt ridiculous to examine the entire moment. Here you are, sitting on the edge of the damn kitchen counters with Lucifer, kicking your legs every now and then, laughing at jokes and just.. enjoying everything. He made you glad you lived in Hell.
The plates now set aside, Lucifer had turned to face you, his crossed leg lightly brushing against yours as he recalled some embarrassing things that Charlie did when she was growing up. Things that happened after you left.
"Oh it was bad, we don't even know what she used to dye her hair but it was not easy to get out. You know.. Teenager stuff, I guess." He showed off some images from his phone, making you lean into his shoulder to catch a better glance. You found yourself leaning past Lucifer, your sides fully together at this point. Lucifer braces himself up with his hand behind your back. When you finally had enough of the pictures of Charlie in her emo-phase, you sat straight, making Lucifer's arm shift to the small of your back. You hummed quietly at his touch.
Don't do this. Don't ruin this, not again.
"Dishes! I'll um.. let me clean up and we can find somewhere with actual chairs.." You hopped off the counter, stumbling a bit before leaning into the sink and starting the water. Before you could even start scrubbing, the dishes simply poofed from your hands and into the drying rack at the side of the sink, sparkling clean.
"Oh, right.. Angelic powers." You laughed nervously, looking around the room for a moment.
Finally deciding that the air was too thick with some kind of tension, you gestured him out of the room and showed him off to the small book room. You didn't go in here often, but it was either this or your bedroom.. Obviously, that wouldn’t end well.
Taking a seat on the little sofa in the room, you managed to get the conversation back on a regular topic, complaining about some customers you used to deal with while working in Cannibal Town. He finally went on a rant about his rubber duck fixation, which baffled you but didn't really surprise you.
The conversations didn't last long. It was bound to happen. Alone in the hotel? Catching up after all these years of built-up tension? It started with Lucifer placing his hand on the small of your back, something that has always given you butterflies. It didn't feel the same when Alastor would do it. Lucifer's hands were obviously smaller, but they were so gentle. And he had no intent on pulling you closer or keeping you sitting upright, he was doing it just so he could touch you. Your hands had traveled in between the two of you, supporting you as you leaned into him. The room was silent, but your thoughts were screaming in your head. He's hurt you before. He's just been alone for too long, this isn't anything special. Don't make the same mistake.
Staring into each other's glazed-over eyes, unsure of how to proceed but unwilling to move away, he finally bites the bullet. Raising his free hand to caress the side of your face, brushing a few strands of hair away, you place your hand overtop of his, relishing in his gentle touch. You felt his hand flinch a bit at your actions, but when you fluttered your eyes shut and leaned into his palm, he immediately felt at ease. He moves his hand towards him just slightly to better bring you closer. Your foreheads now pressed together, all your concerns went away. This wasn't like before. You felt so safe with him, there was no fear of things going wrong or being ruined. Not anymore. Not at this moment. Your comfort was disrupted by his quiet voice.
"A-Are you sure about this.? Can I.. Maybe we should just-" Shut him up. You muffled any other worried thoughts he might have by placing a gentle and quick kiss on his lips. His eyes widened just for a moment, looking surprised despite all that's happened beforehand. Suddenly desperate, he pulls you in, making your lips meet again in a long, long, overdue embrace.
You were just as desperate for this. All you could think of was how gentle he was being, even with the eagerness of his quickening breath. You leaned in more, forcing Lucifer to prop himself up with his hand beside him. You kept leaning. At this point he's taken both his hands off of you, needing to brace himself up. Your lips never pull apart. You placed your hands on his chest, moving underneath his jacket, and onto his shirt, just to be even the slightest bit closer to him. Suddenly processing the position, Lucifer shifted his leg to allow you to crawl closer to him. You were careful, you knew this was long overdue, but it'd be a bad idea to do anything too intense right now. It would overwhelm both of you. Still, finally breaking your kiss, you pushed back to assess his beautiful expression. He looked disappointed. Almost runny eyes, he was propped up by his elbows while you kelt your hands placed on his chest. His porcelain skin contrasted with the red glow across his cheeks.
"You okay, Lucifer?" You asked softly, reaching a hand to brush some strands of hair back into place. He only nodded, before returning a hand onto your back and pulling you on top of him, deepening the kiss you had so rudely interrupted. You felt his hand pull away for a moment, and heard him snap his fingers. You heard the door shut. Then you heard it lock. That made you as nervous as it did relieved. Pulling away for a moment you decide to tease him.
"What, you couldn't have done that before?" You said slyly with a smirk on your face. With a sarcastic laugh, he pressed a kiss onto your smile. Neither of you could believe what was going on right now.
Both your breaths were becoming heavy, Lucifer had scooted to rest his back on the arm of the couch, he pulled you closer and rested his hands around your waist. Neither of you had made the decision to go any farther than enjoying each other's lips yet, but at the same time, you wouldn't complain about staying connected to him like this forever. He reached back and tugged on the silky ribbon of your corset, maybe not as an invitation, but to find something to fiddle with to keep his nerves at bay. You weren't sure. But there was no harm in assuming, right? You took hold of his hand, which still held one of the laces, and guided it to pull it completely loose. It wasn't covering anything, it just loosened the fit of your dress. It wasn't like you were stripping for him. But his face was absolutely flushed by the action.
Letting the corset belt drop to the ground, you leaned forward and ran your hands up his chest. Moving to the inside of his coat, you slipped your fingers over his shoulders to guide the jacket off of him. With some more shifting and adjusting, you both sat straight. Lucifer found himself dragging his lips to your chin, then your jawline, guiding your head to tilt back for easier access. Pulling your body against his with one hand, he cradled your head with the other, running his claws gently across your scalp before doing so. The action sent shivers down your spine, almost a relieving sensation to your hot skin.
He speckled kisses down your neck, taking his time to cover every inch of you. You could feel his labored breath against your skin every time you let out a little moan or hum. He ran his hand down your shoulder, hooking the strap of your dress with his thumb and moving it aside, careful not to undress too much. Not yet. With the newfound space, he nipped at your skin, making you yelp quietly. You quickly place a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the sounds coming from you. Lucifer was not going to let that happen. He traced your arm, running his fingers along your skin, and gently pulled your hand away from your mouth.
"W-What - " You could barely question him, before he forced another yelp from you, sinking his teeth into your shoulder just a bit deeper this time. He hummed at your finally unmuffled voice, taking your hand that he had been holding and guiding it to his head. You immediately took hold of his hair, gripping just lightly, something to keep you from floating away, while he continued to work across your collarbone. Feeling a light suction, you gasped and yanked on his hair, pulling his face away from your chest.
"N-No, no marks! Don't be.. mm... s-stupid.." you scolded, as he leaned down, and ran his tongue up the length of your neck.
"What if I put them somewhere only I can see?" He had moved to your ear at this point, kissing the crook of your jaw as he spoke so sweetly against your skin. Ooh, fuck, you wanted that. Bad.
You took a hold of his jaw and pulled him back up to your lips. Placing your thumb along the bottom of his lip, you opened his mouth a bit, inviting yourself into his mouth. Tracing his lower lip with your tongue, you slid inside, his tongue feverishly following suit. The sensation forced a quiet whimper out of Lucifer, you felt his body weight droop for a moment, falling forward and pushing you onto your back. Caging you in with his arms, he refused to pull away, even if he needed to breathe.
You pushed his chest slightly, and he immediately pulled away, his lustful gaze turning to concern. You watched him catch his breath. While he was panting, you could see his forked tongue just slightly hanging from his lips, which were glossy from the messy and desperate kisses you'd been exchanging. You looked up and down his body for a second. Keeping your hands on his chest, you smoothed over his shoulders, before pulling him back in for another kiss. With your hands still near his chest, you reached towards the clasps of his shirt, beginning to work the expensive feeling fabric off of him. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin. You ran your closer hands across his bare chest, once completely undone. He was overheated and panting, you were just helping him, obviously. You'd say anything to convince yourself that what your doing was okay. Why wasn't it okay, again?
"It's okay, babe, we'll try again later." A saddened groan was muffled through the closed door. Oh. Right. You heard Vaggie comforting a frustrated Charlie just outside the room. You both looked at each other with widened eyes, probably for longer than you should’ve. It was a mixture of disappointment and anxiety. And a little bit of consideration, that maybe they won't check the room if you're quiet. The set of footsteps was coming closer, possibly passing the room to go up the stairs, but it finally forced you out of your head.
You pushed him off of you, desperately making as much distance as possible. The motion of pushing him from his chest, which your hands were so sweetly caressing moments before, took the air out of his lungs, forcing out a loud groan. Hushing him as if you weren't the reason he was wheezing, you struggle to get your corset back on. Finally giving in, you threw it over the back of the couch and took hold of your trusty sweater that was still draped over the back of the couch. You scrambled to put it on. Lucifer simply snapped his fingers to fix up his hair and return his suddenly clean and crisp top back on him. You also heard him unlocking the door.
"Fucking angelic magic.." you muttered, out of breath from your little frantic display. He lets out a cocky chuckle. Taking the risk, he pulls you in for one more quick kiss. His hand lingered on your cheek for a moment, his eyes absolutely sparkling just at the sight of you.
His hand slipped away quickly once the door opened.
"Holy shit- dad?? You didn't tell me you were visiting!" Charlie held onto the handle as the door was opened, Vaggie stood beside her looking just as confused. Before you could acknowledge it, Lucifer gestured to the little coffee table in front of the couch, with some random board game sprawled out on it. When did that get there?
"Heyy Sweetie- well, I-I uh.. we were just catching up, ya know, playing some games. The.. usual.." He grinned nervously, picking up some random game piece and observing it like he knew what it was for.
"Yeah, don't worry Charlie, I'm kicking his ass." You said smoothly, smiling at him when he turned towards you with a glare. You were definitely better at acting casual than he was.
"Oh! Well.. okay, then! Maybe we can all get a game in before you go!" Charlie planned out, already walking off. Lucifer sent a sweet smile and a little wave to Vaggie. She returned the greeting, a comforted smile on her face as she followed after Charlie.
"Well! That was-" Lucifer turned to you with a nervous expression, scratching at the top of his hand.
"- A close call?" you said through some chuckles, "but.. good. It was good." You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with a smile you couldn't shake off. You looked at him nervously fidgeting with his hands, your eyes widening at the sight of his ring-less finger. Blinking a few times, thinking that maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, you couldn't stop yourself from turning red.
"Just good? I'm offended, sweetheart, I thought I did a pretty amazing job there." He boasts, crossing his arms across his chest. Jokes were another coping mechanism Lucifer used often. But you weren't caught up on that.
Sweetheart. You sucked in your lips to hold back a ridiculously wide grin.
Awkwardly clearing his throat when you didn't respond, he clasps his hands together in his lap.
"Sooo.. what now..?" He asked sheepishly. He sounded nervous asking that. You took a hold of his hand and kissed his knuckles, before standing and taking him along with you.
"Now, we have to play some random board game with Charlie. That's your fault, by the way." He laughed after letting out a sigh of relief, following behind as you left the room.
Things were really looking up after that. The board game was awful, and you had to avoid eye contact with Lucifer the rest of the night, the sight of him turning you red immediately. His lips were all over you literal minutes before this, yet he’s acting much calmer than you. It almost frustrated you. Charlie even asked if you were feeling sick at some point. What a fucking nightmare.
Besides that, the unavoidable tragic events proceeding with the extermination day came and went. You did everything in your power to defend the hotel alongside Charlie and your newfound family. During the battle, you found yourself getting distracted by Lucifer's little fight with Adam. It's not like Adam wasn't getting a few hits in, but Lucifer seemed completely unphased. Sometimes you forget. You've seen him as a nervous, loving father, with a habit of making too many ridiculous jokes, but at the end of the day, he was powerful. He was more powerful than anything else in this realm. It was kinda hot..
A spear flying by your head snapped you out of your thoughts, and you groaned, simply embarrassed by your own mind.
The construction of the hotel went the same, he was creating endless materials amd assistance for the crew and you couldn't help but appreciate his strength and abilities. You assisted Charlie to keep your mind from thinking about Lucifer's teeth sinking into your shoulder or how smooth and warm his bare skin felt underneath your hands. But you found yourself chatting it up or helping Lucifer with some tasks every now and then.
Still, you had your fun during the process, sneaking off every now and then to "recharge". A single kiss on the cheek gets this man going, but you kept it at that. You weren't willing to risk any more run-ins.
Finally, the renovations were nearly finished, you were walking the halls just looking for any little things that may need to be cleaned up before you were meant to meet outside for the finale touches. Humming and scanning the area for any debris, you were stopped in your tracks feeling a fuzzy static sensation. It didn't feel like Alastor's usual presence, it was uneven and wavering. You looked around, finally finding him leaning against a wall with a hand clutched over his chest.
"Holy shit- Al! We thought you died, what happened?Oh my god, are you hurt? I mean everyone's gonna be relieved that you're okay, but we have to get you patched up soon or-" you rushed towards him as you spoke, watching a new pocket of blood seep through his coat. Attempting to reach for the wound, his hands came to your shoulders, Holding you with a bruising strength.
"A-Al, that hurts.." you gripped his wrists, attempting to pull him off of you.
"I hate to do this, love, but it appears I'm desperate. In exchange for my silence, you said you owe me one. Now, do me a favor. Stay away from that pompous king." Before you could say anything else, a whirring green smoke encased you both, finalizing the deal.
"What? Hold on, what did you do? Alastor, what's going on?" You questioned him desperately as he released his hands from your shoulders.
What just happened?
"Hm. Don't make such a fuss, I'm just helping you. Unless I'm forgetting, I'm quite sure he did something to hurt you in the past. So it's probably for the best to keep your distance. Ah! I believe they're looking for us, outside, dear! Shall we?" Alastor brushes off his suit, covering the stain with his overcoat and suddenly dropping the injured act. He hooks your arm into his and the two of you melt away into the shadows before you could protest to anything that just happened.
♡♡♡
lmao jk there's more parts coming
( Just an extra extra note, it honestly takes me awhile to write, I usually work on it piece by piece over a few days, then it takes me a day or two to finish editing it, plus it all depends on what's motivating me that day :') PLEASE keep sending more requests and I really appreciate everyone who has already sent one in being so patient )
!Taglist! (Some of the blogs aren't tagging and I have no idea why if anyone knows why please lmk :,)
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#hazbin hotel#hazbin#lucifer morningstar#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fandom#lucifer hazbin#lucifer magne#hazbin hotel smut#lucifer fluff#lucifer morningstar x you#lucifer x reader#lucifer x reader smut#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel fan fiction#hazbin hotel fanfiction#lucifer x you smut#lucifer x you#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor
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CAN YOU PLEASE MAKE LITERALLY ANYTHING FOR NATE🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 (preferably smut) BUT IM LITERALLY BEGGING PLEASE (no rush💗💗 love ur work)
SINFUL DESIRES (part one)
read part two here
read part three here
read part four here
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it feels like every day there’s a blowout between you and nate. however, something changes when all of a sudden he’s knocking at your bedroom window.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, swearing, teasing, some praise/degradation, pet names (pretty), p in v, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy!), stomach bulge, possessiveness, cream pie, ROUGHHH
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,172
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is low key toxic LMAO but it’s okay cause nate’s a cutie patootie.
thank you anon! hope you like it❤️
for some reason when i listened to this song it make me think of this fic, even though i would never picture him like this at all😭
tap tap tap.
“you cannot be fucking serious.” you curse softly, placing your phone on the bed as you get up and head over to the window.
it’s no secret that you hate nathan doe, and he hates you too.
your parents are close with his, but nate has always been a little shit.
ever since you two were kids, he’d pick on you. you’d understand that it was friendly banter since he’s, y’know; a boy. boys do that.
but it was never like that with him.
you unlock your window and open it, staring at the boy squatting on your roof. he’s in a t-shirt and gray sweats, his hair damp from showering.
“are you kidding right now, nate?”
“can i come in?” he asks, already making his way through your window.
you roll your eyes. “i mean, you already are.”
he stands in the middle of your room with his hands in his pockets, looking around. “what do you want?” you groan.
he snaps his head toward you. “what? can an old friend not visit?”
“you hate me.”
he raises his eyebrows and glances down your body. “i didn’t see you at the game today.”
“i’d rather die than go to a lacrosse match,” you say. you guys are standing across from each other, and it’s weirdly comforting. you two would be trying to fight right now, but even if you were you’d be too tired to.
“what do you want, nate?” you repeat, this time more harshly.
“why do you always have a fucking attitude?” he snaps.
there it is.
you scoff. “stop with this nice act. i shouldn’t have even let you in.”
“yet, you did!” he says with a high voice, taking his finger and pointing upward.
“fuck you.”
“you wish.”
you squint your eyes at the boy. you should’ve pushed him off of your roof when you had the chance.
“i’d watch that mouth if i were you, y/l/n.” he now points at you. “it can get you into big trouble.”
your next two words were meant to be in your head. “make m—”
in one stride, nate pulls you in by the throat and smashes his lips on yours. you would think you’d want to pull away but no. you kiss back with hunger.
he pushes you against your bedroom door, not breaking the kiss as he lifts the bottom of your band tee to push his fingers inside your underwear.
he pulls away to make eye contact with you as he starts to rub your embarrassingly wet clit with his fingers. he smirks when he realizes this is all from him.
you fight every fiber in your body to not give him the satisfaction of giving you pleasure. not even a lip bite or a buck of the hips, even though you want to.
so. fucking. bad.
he continues to rub at a decent pace. “why so quiet now? cats got your tongue, pretty?”
“don’t call me that, asshole.” you spit back. “i hate you.”
he chuckles under his breath. “seems like it.” he mocks.
the heaving of your chest gets faster when you feel the knot start to form in the pit of your stomach. you curl your hands into fists that are on your sides when you feel wetness drip down your inner thighs. nate scans your face until he figures out what just happened. “came already? my fingers weren’t even inside you. that’s a little pathetic, don’t you think?”
“shut. up,” you say through gritted teeth.
you look down at his sweats without thinking, seeing the imprint of his boner as clear as day. he leans to your ear and takes his hands out.
“feel how hard it is, pretty?” he jolts his hips into your clothed pussy. “it’s all because of you. i can never stop thinking about you, you know that? you’re engraved in my mind and i hate you for it. i always get off to what you’ll look like wrapped around my cock.”
your bottom lip quivers from his words. you don’t know what to say; the only thing you can think about is what you need. you need him.
he starts sucking a mark into your neck while untying his pants and pulling them past his thighs.
he lifts you, your legs dangling at his sides. he moves your panties to the side and starts to enter you slowly.
you pinch your lips together when you feel him all inside of you.
he groans at the feeling. “better than i’ve imagined.”
his thrusts start small but he gradually gets faster to the point where he pulls back and slams back in. you bite back your moan.
“so stubborn,” he whispers, taking your bottom lip out from your teeth with his thumb.
one thing to keep in mind is that your parents are sleeping just across the way, but you can’t seem to hold it in any longer.
don’t do it… don’t do it… don’tdoitdon’tdoitdon’tdoit.
“oh, god, nathan!” you cry out, immediately covering your mouth.
“there she is,” he says. he somehow makes himself go deeper.
“fuck, nate. fuck!” your noises are muffled by your hand.
you look over his shoulder at the window, realizing you never closed it. even though your room is on the second floor, people can still see and hear you.
nate turns his head to see where you are looking at and smirks. he takes your hand off of your mouth.
“don’t hide your sounds. i want everybody to know who makes you feel this good.”
you whimper and look down, seeing how he fills you from the bulge in your tummy with the movement of his thrusts. your mouth drops slightly at the sight. “see how well i fill you up, pretty? see how good you take my cock?”
you whimper again and grip his shoulders, dragging your nails down his upper back. “how long has it been since you’ve been fucked this good?”
“a l-long time.” you moan in pleasure as he hits that spot inside you. “right there, right there! please don’t stop.”
“whose is it, y/n?” he starts. “whose pussy is this?”
“y-yours, nate. it’s all yours.” you cry out. “i need to cum. please let me cum for you.”
you keep blabbing out nonsense as he fucks the living daylights out of you. “gonna cum inside this sweet cunt so you know it’s mine. you’re all mine, pretty. don’t ever forget it, yeah?”
“yes. yes!” you repeat. “i’m all yours. all yours, nathan.”
he kisses you as he spills every drop inside of you. you soon after gush around his dick, legs shaking and toes curling as you do so.
he sets you down and holds you by the waist so you don’t stumble over from all of the stimulation. he holds you in a tight hug and whispers sweet nothings in your ear.
then, the light in the hallway flicks on and you hear footsteps.
“y/n!” your dad bellows. “what the fuck is going on in there?!”
𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby
#nate doe#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nathan doe#christopher sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo fluff#nate doe fanfic#nate doe smut#✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!
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Rite of Passage
summary: steve takes care of you after a date gone horribly wrong (roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader)
wc: 2.0k
cw: results of the date which is not described, but understood to be sexual assault, Please use your discretion (marked in the tags so it can be filtered), steve stays platonic, he is the comfort in the hurt/comfort, reader takes a bath, semi-graphic description of injuries, angst but fluff in how steve cares so much for reader. PLEASE let me know if I'm missing anything
a/n: this is not for the faint of heart. it has been in the vault since 2022 just as a kind of a coping thing. it's one of the stories i revisit and literally just cry rereading, but maybe it can be helpful to others. this is just one way one can react to this sort of incident. everyone's own reactions are valid, and i love you.
It could happen to anyone. Almost every girl experiences it, some sick rite of passage to prove that you are a woman. To remind you that you are still inferior, second class, an object to be used. Then these women share their stories so nonchalantly, in passing, and in response to their friends’ stories. Some don’t share at all. Some bottle it up and smile through the pain anyway, now nothing behind her once vibrant eyes.
But you never really thought it would happen to you. Not that you were invincible or immune or reckless; it’s just not something that anyone can fully comprehend. You’d been told to smile more. You’d been objectified or ignored. You thought that put you on the list already.
You thought he was a sweet guy. You wished you listened to Steve. You had laughed at his suggestion to “at least bring him back to the apartment.” You were so embarrassed at the thought of making out with some guy while Steve hid in the other room. And you didn’t want your date to know that you lived with another guy. But all that seemed so insignificant now.
You had to walk home. Your teeth chattered in the drizzling rain, your gait slightly wider than usual. You crossed your arms and bit down on your lip hard, a desperate attempt at a distraction. Not a single car passed you on your trek home. The darkness consumed you. The silence betrayed you. With your phone now dead, making it to your apartment was the only hope filling your heart. You prayed that Steve hadn’t waited up for you. You just wanted to be alone.
You fiddled with your keys as you approached the locked door. You didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking. You struggled for a few more moments, begging for the strength to get inside without crying, when the door opened for you.
“Y/N! I’ve been calling you for like an hour! Where have you been?” Steve guided you inside. He attempted to take your jacket from you, but you jerked his hand off of you.
“Don’t! Don’t touch me.” Your voice quivered at the end of your sentence.
Steve lifted his hands and closed the door behind the both of you. “Sorry, I didn’t – I – you’re soaked, hon. Did—did you walk here?”
You nodded. You felt overwhelmed, anger rising to cover your tracks. “Can you just fucking cool it with the questions? My phone died. I walked here. I’m wet 'cause it’s raining. Just—just leave me alone.”
You shoved him out of your way with your shoulder and stormed to your room. You had never acted this way toward him, toward anyone. People knew you to be kind, gentle, and sometimes blunt, but never rude or aggressive. But you felt that part breaking right in front of your eyes. You were confused. You couldn’t comprehend what was happening, that this was happening.
You plugged in your phone. You paced around your room for your phone to light up again. When your phone turned back on, you checked for his number. He had already blocked you.
Your lungs boiled. Your body vibrated with rage. The impulse to scream grew stronger and stronger by the second. So, you did. A guttural, soul-clutching scream escaped your throat. Tears stained your cheeks. You felt your destruction in your hands, transferring the havoc condemned to you to your room. You threw your books, kicked your chair, and flipped your mattress, bawling and yelling through it all. You punched your pillow over and over until hands gathered you in their arms. You fought the arms, but the hold was tight.
“Hey, it’s me. It’s Steve. Relax. I’ve got you. You’re ok. You’re safe. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
You sank into his touch and wept. Destruction left your body and devolved into devastation. Your body suddenly so heavy, you slumped to your knees, Steve following right behind you and still holding you close.
You couldn’t be sure how long you stayed on the floor of your bedroom. But Steve held you with the same force he did from the very start. He wasn’t going anywhere. You cried until you lost your energy, tears still streaking your face. You couldn’t even hold yourself up anymore. You were glad that you had Steve to lean on.
“How can I help?” Steve asked. You didn’t respond. You couldn’t process such an open-ended question. It seemed that Steve understood that. “Water is supposed to help relax people. What if I fill up the tub for you? You can rest in there, and I’ll grab some clothes for you. How does that sound?”
You nodded, not yet able to find your voice. Steve gently lifted you up, and the two of you walked to the bathroom.
You sat on the closed toilet as Steve crouched by the tub, testing the water with his hand. When the tub filled, he stood up and headed toward the door. “I’ll leave your clothes by the door, ok?”
He opened the door, and your stomach flipped. “Steve?”
“Yeah?”
“Please, I don—Can you stay?”
Steve’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink. He closed the door behind him and nodded. “Uh, yeah, ok.”
The two of you sat in silence. You didn’t ask for him not to look. You didn’t start to change. You didn’t move, a haze falling over you. The weight of horror and defeat pulled you down.
“Y/N?”
Your eyes snapped up to Steve’s. “Sorry. I’m just tired.”
“Do you—would you like some help?” Steve’s voice shook as if you were made of glass and one misstep would shatter you.
All you could do was nod. You shuffled out of your jacket as Steve untied your shoes and removed your socks, still damp from the rain. He rose to his knees to meet you at eye level. He patted your arm, and you lifted them halfway into the air, as much as you could muster. Steve carefully pulled your shirt over your head, officially crossing a line the two of you never even toed.
And what Steve saw broke his heart. Blue and green bruises in the shape of fingertips wrapped around your neck. More, less cohesive shapes scattered across your chest down to the top of your hip bones where the waistband of your pants sat.
“Oh my god,” he whispered. He sat in observation, conflict brewing within him. The more he looked, the angrier he got. His shame screamed for him to look away, to salvage the friendship you both have and remain a ‘gentleman’. But the true friend in him wanted to document every bruise on your body, to share the knowledge in your pain, and to lighten the load in any way possible. This part fueled him to continue.
“Stand up for me, please.”
You paused. Your heart began to pound, and you found it harder and harder to breathe. You started to feel dizzy.
Steve took your face in his hands and had you look at him. “Breathe. You’re ok. Breathe with me. In…and out.” You matched the rhythm that Steve set and took deep breaths. You collected yourself under Steve’s gaze, but you were still a little overwhelmed.
“I’m here for you, ok? Whatever you need just say it. Need me to turn around, I will. Need me to leave? I can. But I think you need to get cleaned up, ok? You think you can do that? What do you need from me?”
You thought for a moment. Your brain felt jumbled, like crossed wires scrambling messages. Steve sat at your knees patiently while you considered what you wanted.
“Let’s—let’s just get it over with,” you sighed, a dry laugh forced from your diaphragm.
You stood up with what strength you had left, resolving to lean your body weight on Steve’s shoulders as he kneeled beneath you.
He wasted no time in unbuttoning your pants, desperate to not make a scene of it. He glided your pants to your ankles, and you stepped out of them while using Steve to balance. He stood up and guided you into the water. As you stepped in, the dried blood between your thighs sucked the air out of Steve’s lungs. Now he felt dizzy. Now he felt rage. He could only have guessed, but now he was certain. His eyes stung as he blinked back tears.
“I—I’ll be right back,” he said, turning away from you.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m gonna grab those clothes for you. I’ll be right back. I promise.” He tore out of the bathroom, his tears now falling freely. He was gonna kill him. He was gonna kill that man if it was the last thing he did. He paced the halls debating on grabbing his bat. His blood boiled. Steve didn’t know what to do. He stormed into your room but was quickly reminded of the destruction that already took place. His temper cooled back down. You were his priority. You needed his attention. You needed him. He took a deep breath and collected all of your favorite cozy clothes.
He wiped his tears before knocking. A weak ‘come in’ responded. Steve opened the door. You had already begun draining the tub as you reached for your towel from your seated position. Steve grabbed the towel and pulled you up to your feet. He wrapped you up and did what he could to dry you. Then he helped you into your sweats and socks before guiding you to his room.
“What are we doing?” you asked.
“Well, your bed is kind of indisposed at the moment,” Steve chuckled. “So, you can sleep here for now, ok? I’ll be on the couch if you need me.” The truth was he planned on cleaning your room and putting it back together. He knew it was late, but a fresh start in the morning was sure to allow things to move forward a little easier, right?
“You don’t have to. I can sleep on the couch; it’s fine.”
“Please, I insist.”
“It’s your bed.”
“Well, then, at least stay with me. I want you comfortable. I want you to get some sleep tonight.”
“Are you sure?”
“Only if you are.”
“I think I’d like that, actually.” You tried to smile, but you were much too tired.
“Come on, then.” Steve smiled. He held your hand as he led you to his bed. He pulled the covers back, and you slipped in, Steve following close behind.
The room was dark and silent, two things that again began to trouble you. You stared up at the ceiling, trying to keep your composure. Steve, too, stared up at his ceiling fan, all too conscious of the space between the two of you, hoping you were comfortable, or at least relaxed enough to fall asleep.
“You were right,” you whispered, your lip beginning to quiver.
Steve’s ears perked up. “Huh? What do you mean?” He turned his body to face you, his arm propping up his head.
“You knew he was bad news. I should have listened.”
“No, no. No. You couldn’t have known. I didn’t know. You did nothing wrong. Okay? Look at me. You did nothing wrong.”
You nodded in the dark, the silence continuing to settle around you. You wanted to believe him; you really did. But fragments of memories struck your nerves, all too vivid and all so wrong to be truly convinced.
“Why did this happen to me, Steve?” Your voice broke. Steve pulled you into his chest as you cried for the second time this evening. He stroked your hair as he held you close, failing to keep his own tears at bay.
“I’ve got you, sweet girl. I’ve got you. I’m gonna keep you safe from now on, you got that? You can count on me.”
“Thank you,” you whispered.
The room eventually grew quiet and still, the only sounds the heavy breaths leaving both of you. Steve kept his promise, holding you in his arms and keeping you safe the entire night.
#steve harrington x reader#steve stranger things#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve harrington hurt/comfort#sexualassault#me too#platonic!steve harrington#steve harrington#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington x you#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x y/n
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could you please do charlie meeting you and lucifer newborn daughter for the first time??
𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕸𝖔𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 𝕱𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖞
AHHHHHH YES THAN YOU @mxxny-lupin I ABSOLTELY LOVE THIS IDEA THAN YOU <3 I didn't have the motivation to write a full one shot so I decided to do a mini one shot leading into headcanons, hope you enjoyed them nonetheless.
𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:
𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝, t𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲, 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲, 𝐃𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧.
𝐓𝐰'𝐬
𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭
???
E n j o y < 3
⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉
Your hands trembled as you held the test in your hands as tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you read the test a smile graced your lips. Months and months of trying for a baby with Lucifer you'd almost given up, but you held the proof your waiting had finally paid off.
You reached for the door handle of the bathroom as you slowly moved forward out of the room as you saw nervous looking Lucifer your loving husband.
Looking up at you with his red and yellow eyes with burning curiosity and fear as you smiled and that's all the sign he needed before rushing to your side holding you close to him.
"We did it? Really?"
❂ He's overall ecstatic about the entire pregnancy since he only has one daughter as soon as he finds out he's having another one, he's over the moon about it.
❂ Also you don't have a choice but to take it easy for the entire pregnancy from the day he finds out you're immediately no longer allowed to do any kind of work.
❂ Not that you were allowed to anyways
❂ Charlie knows almost immediately after Lucifer finds out and she is also over the moon her eyes light up and she makes happy noises and squeals.
❂ She's excited to become a big sister ever since she was little she's always wanted to sibling.
❂ When you start to grow a baby bump both Charlie and Lucifer get REALLY protective of you and only some people are allowed to touch you.
❂ Lucifer loves to fall asleep listening to the baby's heartbeat.
❂ When it comes time to give birth Lucifer is nothing but a ball of nerves. If he can't be by your side then he's pacing around mumbling.
❂ Once the baby is born he rushed to your side saying praises about how he's so proud of you and if you we're ok.
❂ When he sees you in the bed holding your little girl he nearly cries (spoilers, He does)
❂ Charlie has a similar reaction when you guys come to the hotel carrying your newborn daughter that looks more like you than Lucifer but still has his eyes, Charlie's almost screams as she runs towards you.
❂ "I-It's....Is that my little sister?! She's so cute! Can I hold her?!"
❂ Vaggie has to literally pry Charlie away from the baby in order for you guys to hold her Charlie is a crying mess as she hold her little sister.
❂ Ever since she was born she remembers wanting a little sibling this is like a dream come true for her and she wouldn't have it any other way.
❂ As the baby gets older you realize that the child has inherited Lucifer's powers just as Charlie and he couldn't be more ecstatic.
❂ You both decided to name her Judas or Judy for short and Charlie is an amazing big sister offering to babysit whenever you guys needed a break and you couldn't be more grateful for it since Charlie is amazing with kids.
❂ Even though you're not Charlie's biological mother she still calls you mom and treats you like her mother although Charlie still loves Lilith to death, you're more of a mother than she is.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#kai#xreader#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel Lucifer x reader#character x reader#character x you
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No Alarms and No Surprises, Please
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
I had this idea and decided to write it "real quick" (it took like two hours). I meant to do just like a really short thing so I could eat lunch and then get back to work, but then my brain was like no we gotta set up context
Titled after the song "No Surprises" by Radiohead. It doesn't exactly fit, but it felt right in my mind
Warnings: mentions of murder, tense moments, injury, burning flesh, bruises, bones breaking, blood mention, nausea mention, angst, literal hurt/comfort, soft Astarion moments
Word Count: 1,863
Main Masterlist
First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
AO3
Tag List Form
You peeked slowly around the corner, holding your breath. Astarion hovered just behind you, almost touching you as you both surveyed your surroundings.
It was a palace, that much you knew. You also knew the guards were exceptionally strong. You already wasted enough healing spells and potions on the two guarding the door - you were just lucky they didn’t call for reinforcements. You also knew there was an artifact deep within the heart of this place that could provide some insight into removing the tadpoles.
“We’ll have to go around,” you breathe out slowly to the spawn. He gives a slight nod. As much as he loved bloodshed, sneak-killing all of them would be too high a risk. You almost came face to face with him when you look over your shoulder. He gives you a knowing smirk as he backs off. You nod down a side-hall. “That way.”
You gesture to Gale and Shadowheart, making sure they knew the plan. They nodded, waiting. You turn back to the patrolling sentinels. Their movements are constant and predictable, each pace following the same amount of steps. They sync, facing away from your destination, and you wave a hand for a companion to go.
Gale, ever the gentleman, lets Shadowheart go first. She hides behind the wall, out of sight. You wait again and gesture for Gale to go. He bites back complaints about his knees that creak under the duress of sneaking. He arrives just as a guard turns. Astarion could hear your heart thumping wildly in your chest; it pounds so loud in your ears you can’t even hear the guards’ footsteps anymore.
He wraps a hand around your waist, carefully pulling you away from the corner. You stare at him, worried he’s noticed something wrong. He nods toward the hall where your companions wait. “You first,” he whispers.
You want to argue - he can see the wheels turning in your head as you frown at him. As the de facto leader, you always worked to ensure everyone else was safe before you. You rested a little easier knowing you’d be the one in harm's way should something go wrong. But Astarion was a rogue, and used to sneaking around to boot. He would be much better at timing his dash to the hall than you could.
After a moment, you nodded. He pushed you back to his prior spot as he takes your place, poking an eye around the corner and studying them. He thought you’d die of a heart attack if this went on any longer. When the guards turn, he taps your waist. You crouch as quickly as you can to Gale and Shadowheart. They greet you with a tense nod.
You wait in silence for Astarion.
He almost spooks you when he comes silently around the corner. But now, further from the immediate threat, you have a chance to breathe.
The hallway stretches on for what seems like forever. Closed doors and open arch-ways line each side, perfectly mirrored. At the end, there’s a very small statue - but you’re sure it’s life size up close. The prospect of a maze with the ever-looming fear of getting caught doesn’t exactly thrill you, nor any of your companions, but nothing can be done for it.
You sigh and lead them onward.
It’s too risky to peek inside the rooms - if there were patrols inside you’d all be jumped and killed within minutes. At each arch, you glance around the corner, down the other equally as endless corridors. It’s oddly quiet. Not a guard in sight, even on grander doors that seem like they should be protected. It leaves you on edge. Waiting for the boot to drop and leave you in mortal peril. At the very least, you feel safe enough to stand up. It saves you from Gale’s grumbling.
You peer around another corridor and try to imagine the layout of the palace. You’d found a map once, but it was too tattered to make anything useful out. The most information you gleaned from it was where the staircases were. If you could find your way to one of those, you’d be able to go down, deeper into the belly of the beast. You believe, if your slipping memory of the map was correct, you could turn down this way and go all the way to the end, and there would be stairwells on either side of the very-tiny-life-sized-statue.
Resolved to your plan, you step through the ornate marble arch. You feel the pain before you register where it’s coming from. You collapse to the floor, cushioned only by a strong arm and solid body. A hand clamps over your mouth, pressing down tight to keep any sound from slipping through.
Oh. That breathless tightness in your chest is not from the pain. It’s you screaming. Trying to, at least. Your eyes dart frantically around as your body writhes against the person holding you. Gale and Shadowheart appear in front of you, kneeling down and working as fast as they can to help.
One of your legs feels weighed down. You stare at the chunk of metal for too long before it finally registers the trap clamping down on your leg. It looks and acts like a bear trap, but it’s been improved to burn red-hot when activated.
Fear grips you like a vice. You become conscious of the fact the teeth of the trap are almost meeting. It’s bitten through your bone. Or nearly through, anyway. You didn’t process it, too busy being victimized by the sadistic mechanics of the device, but Astarion, Shadowheart and Gale all felt nauseous as the crack continues to echo in their mind.
“Shh,” comes a whisper by your ear. You whimper and gasp and struggle, but the arm around your waist only re-wraps around you to pin your arms down. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”
Astarion looks away from your injury, peering down the halls. The sound of the bone snapping was loud enough to attract attention, he just didn’t know how much, or when they’d be coming. Not to mention where they’d come from. For all he knew, their luck had run out, and any second a swarm of golden-armored bastards would be charging down the hall they were in.
“We need to get out of the open,” he hissed to the cleric and wizard.
Gale cast an ice spell, focusing all his energy in freezing the hinge of the device. If he could get it cold enough, it would become brittle, and they could dismantle it and pull it from your leg like cracking open an oyster. Shadowheart focused on healing the burns being inflicted to your skin as they were happening. It smelled uncomfortably like meat roast. Your blood vessels were cauterized. Astarion could hardly take solace in the fact when the usually-delicious scent of your ichor was replaced with the smell of cooking flesh.
“We can’t move them yet,” Shadowheart whispered, barely biting back her panic. She couldn’t keep healing you forever.
Gale grunted, brow furrowing further as he willed the ice to freeze faster, freeze colder around the metal.
Astarion felt useless, watching and unable to help. Holding you while you thrashed in agony was all he could do. He hoped to the gods he wouldn’t reveal a bruise over your mouth when this was finished. “I’m here,” he whispered sweetly in your ear. It was all he could think to do. “You need to keep still, love. It’ll be over soon.”
The words didn’t reach. You knew he was speaking when his breath fanned over your ear, but the speech-centers of your brain were thoroughly turned off. As were any of the logic-centers. Anything that could have told you they were helping, to calm down and stop moving, was replaced instead with klaxons and sirens urging you to struggle and fight back against the pain.
Footsteps. Loud and clanging. Getting closer. Astarion cursed. “We have to hide,” he hissed again, panicked.
There was no time to argue. They all seemed to have the same idea as Astarion pushed himself across the floor with his legs, pulling you with him. Shadowheart and Gale stopped casting in favor of moving your legs, as carefully as they could possibly manage. Hot tears slipped over Astarion’s hand as you thrashed violently with the motion. But now, at least, you were tucked into a corner. Hidden behind a pillar that framed the arch of the hallway. Everyone held their breaths. You didn’t catch the memo, but the spell-casters held your legs down so you wouldn’t make as much noise.
The clanging of armor rose in volume until the echoes through the corridors nearly deafened everyone. You momentarily stopped fighting. Though, Astarion couldn’t tell if it was because the sound had reached past your pain, or if your body was giving out under the duress.
The steps - 3 guards, if Astarion had to guess by ear - slowed from a run to pacing the juncture of the halls. They circled around, stopping occasionally. One set of steps stopped mere feet away. If Astarion leaned forward slightly, he could make out the point of a nose. Shadowheart and Gale slowly pressed themselves back into the shadow of the pillar.
Something touching his hand startled him. He had to fight not to physically jump and draw attention. A hand, your hand, rested weakly over his. He let go of your arm and turned his hand to hold yours. He could feel you whimper in his hold, the shake of your breaths as they hit hot against his hand. You were scared. He was, too.
He squeezed your hand and looked back at the pillar. The steps hadn’t moved. The sentry was still there.
Seconds ticked away at a snail’s pace. They all worried for a moment the guards had chosen to stay there and patrol the intersection. Then the sentinel stepped back from the arch. More footsteps followed. A pause. He could only imagine they were silently saying they did not find anything. And then the cacophony of armor drowned out any last doubt as they retreated back down the hall.
They all let out sighs of relief, even Astarion who had no need for air. He turned his focus back down to you. Your eyes were shut, your breaths were evened out. You’d fallen unconscious. It was a small mercy.
“Hurry up so we can get the Hells out of here,” he huffed. Shadowheart and Gale nodded, equally as eager to get back to safety, and returned to work.
Astarion slowly removed his hand from your mouth. Light bruises where his fingertips had been began rising through the surface of your skin. He sighed, upset at the pain he caused even through necessity, and brushed a tender kiss over the darkest of the bunch. He was too overwhelmed with relief to care if the others saw him. “You’ll be alright,” he whispered again, even though they did not reach you. He was reassuring himself more than anything. It would have been pathetic, if he could think about anything other than your wellbeing. “I’m here, darling.”
---
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He Had It Comin’ | D.D.
Summary: Daryl once told the group that Merle wasn’t a r@pist, but no one could deny the way Merle looked at you.
-
Warnings: fem reader, sexual harassment, attempted r@pe, protective!Daryl, villain!Merle, set in Alexandria, (we’re just gonna act like Merle never died), death threats, triggering threats, crying, guns, pinning, etc.
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You were groggy, things all confusing and hazy in your awakening state. The sunlight barely creeped through the curtains as they failed to cover all of the window, allowing the golden rays to shine into your face. The urge the open your eyes got the best of you, so you did, and immediately groaned when you were blinded by the sunlight.
After a couple more seconds, you were coherent. You didn’t have to turn to see that Daryl was sleeping peacefully beside you. He had one arm propped under his head, a force of habit he never was able to break away from. His other arm was holding onto you, feeling as though someone was about to pull you away from him at any given moment and he’d never see you again. It always amazed you how strong he was, even while he slept.
Moments like these brought a small smile to your lips as you wished you could stay here in this moment forever. Nothing brought you more peace, you were the safest you’ve been since the world fell and the dead rose.
You could feel Daryl’s steadily paced breaths warming your neck, his face nuzzled into it. You knew you’d have to get up soon, but everything in you was telling you not too. To stay here, wearing nothing but Daryl’s t-shirt and a pair of underwear, while your lover slept next to you as if there wasn’t a world outside of your shared room.
Suddenly, your peaceful thoughts and blissful mood were interrupted as your bedroom door is quite literally slammed open. You felt Daryl’s body tense immediately as you both shut up, Daryl’s hand already reaching for the knife under his pillow.
“Rise and shine!” As if seeing Merle standing there wasn’t enough, his voice rang loudly throughout the once quiet room. Immediately, Daryl relaxed, but rolled his eyes.
“Get outta here, man.” Daryl raised his voice at his older brother, throwing his hands up.
You hadn’t taken your eyes off the older Dixon. And he sure as hell hadn’t taken his eyes off you either, the way your bare legs looked exposed like that mind his eyes have no shame. You shuddered in disgust, immediately throwing the blanket over your body.
Daryl caught onto his brother’s creeping eyes and stood up out of bed, stomping over to Merle.
“Stop bargin’ in ‘ere, asshole. Yer creepin’ her out.” He growled at him, spitting his words out like venom. Merle smirked, finally tearing his gaze off you and looked at his little brother.
“I can’t help but look when my sweet baby brother got himself a nice piece of ass hanging around.” Merle spoke without shame. This made Daryl’s blood boil, he pushed Merle back and out of the room before slamming the door back shut. All you could hear was Merle’s descending laughter as he walked away.
You wanted to be shocked, like you didn’t expect it. Like this wasn’t normal. But, truth be told, Merle’s behavior towards you has always been that way. No matter how many times Daryl threatened to smash his skull in or take off his other hand, Merle said and did as he pleased when he pleased.
“‘M sorry bout him, he’s an ass.” Daryl muttered the last part to himself as he walked towards his dresser, intent on getting ready for the day.
“I think it was a mistake to let him move into the basement.” You muttered, letting your dislike for Merle seep into your tone.
Daryl didn’t say anything because he knew you were right. He hates the way Merle speaks to you, it isn’t okay and it makes you uncomfortable, and that’s enough for him to want to send Merle to an early grave. But, Merle was blood, the last family Daryl had.
“I’ll talk to ‘em.” Daryl reassures, sending you a “I promise” look.
~
Hours had passed and you hadn’t seen Daryl since this morning. After getting dressed and ready for the day, you parted and went your separate ways. Daryl had been positioned with Rick today on supply runs while you were on training with the kids.
The day was going great, the kids were going through their training wonderfully. Even Adam, the little boy who is scared of his own shadow, did wonderful knife work. It made you proud seeing how far they’ve come.
All that pride washed out of your system when you felt another presence. You didn’t move, standing there with your hands on your hips, observing the children. You felt uneasy, as if prying eyes were on you. And they were.
Merle had been passing by the training grounds when he spotted you. You have no idea how long he’d been there, just watching, eyes glued to your ass. He sexualized you worse than any man ever had and it was disgusting. You were a big girl and you knew how to fend for yourself, but having to fight against the living is the scariest thing you ever had to do.
As long as Merle kept his distance, you didn’t care. You knew how jealous he was that Daryl had you and he didn’t, but that wasn’t your problem. He needed to learn respect.
All of a sudden, you felt a quick pressure on your backside, causing you to stumble forward.
Did someone just smack my ass?
You whipped around faster than you could imagine only to be met with the serious yet mischievous stare of Merle. He had that uneasy smirk plastered on his face that sent chills down our spine.
Oh, your blood was boiling. The nerve he had to put his hands on you, his brother’s woman. You could hear the kids still continuing on with their training, oblivious to the creep in the area, but all you could see was red.
“Now, that’s a nice piece of-“ before you could let him finish his sentence, you reared back your first in seconds, giving it all your force as you felt your knuckles come in contact with his cheekbone.
Merle was on the ground in seconds, looking at you with pure shock. You didn’t hear the children practicing anymore, so you knew you had eyes on you. Your senses came back to you and that’s when you looked down at your red knuckles, instantly getting hit with the sharp pains throbbing in your hand. You gripped your wrist and hissed.
“You bitch!” Merle hollered, making your head snap up.
“Watch your tone or I’ll rock your shit again,” you snapped at him, coming down from your adrenaline high, “Get out of here. They’re just kids, they don’t need to see anything else.”
You didn’t give him the time of day to respond before you turned your back on him and walked away. He gathered himself and left, but not without griping and complaining, muttering a bunch of curses and threats under his breath.
An hour later and you couldn’t bear the pain in your hand, your fear is that it was broken. You made up some lame excuse and told the kids that training was done for the day. You made sure they all put their knives back into their holsters and told them all what a good job they did. After the last child made their way home, you realized the sun was on its way to setting. Letting out a sign, you gently grabbing your wrist, keeping your hand steady as you walked to Carol’s home.
-
“This looks bad, Y/N.” Carol said softly, having a delicate hold on your injured hand. You winced, trying to bite your tongue from the pain.
“You should see the other guy.” You joked, only, it didn’t come off as humorous as you hoped. Carol was quick to look at you, concerned, before reaching for her medical kit.
“This is from a fight?” She asked.
You scoffed at how funny that sounded to you. It was better than your joke.
“It was less of a fight and more of a promise.” You spoke truthfully. Not keeping the truth any longer, you informed Carol of what happened. She was upset for you, to say the least. Carol was your best friend outside from Daryl, so she already knew of your worries when it came to Merle. She didn’t like him either but she was always worrying about you living in the same house as him.
“Are you gonna tell Daryl?” She asked, putting the last piece of gauze tape on your wrapped hand.
Daryl.
You forgot about the fact that you would have to tell Daryl. He would question your hand… and you never lie to each other. It was an unspoken rule and brutal honesty was a big factor in your relationship.
You bit your lip nervously, how do you tell your boyfriend that his brother smacked your ass? Your thoughts became overwhelming, Daryl loves his brother. But he also loves you. What if he thinks you’re making him chose?
You mentally laughed to yourself at how ridiculous that sounds. After Carol finished your hand, you looked out the window, seeing nothing but the deep setting sun. All the light was almost drained from the sky, you could tell the moon was about to make its appearance.
Thanking Carol, you bid your goodbyes, knowing Daryl was probably home. After leaving Carol’s house, you tried not to think about the situation. It wasn’t worth the stress… Merle wasn’t worth the stress.
It wasn’t long before you reached you and Daryl’s home. The lights were off, meaning no one else was home. You sighed, dragging your feet up the stairs. He must be somewhere with Rick unpacking whatever supplies they brought back. You smiled to yourself thinking about the man you love.
You made your way into the house, kicking off your boots at the door. It was dark in the house, but there was enough moonlight coming in through the windows that you could make your way around. Your body felt so tired and your hand was starting to throb again. Why did you have to strike him with your most useful hand?
You shook it off and deposited your holster belt on the kitchen counter. The weight off your hips was relieving. You arched your back, giving it a good stretch.
Then, you felt something cold pressed against your head. Your body tenses almost instantly, your heart rate speeding up in seconds. You knew what that was. Anyone in Alexandria would recognize the feeling of a gun pressed to the back of their head.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Merle mocked, his voice flooding your ears.
For fucks sake.
“Bet that hand feels just about as good as my face, doesn’t it, honey?” He chuckled, taking a step closer. You closed your eyes and took and big breath in and out- you couldn’t show him your fear.
“What do you want, Merle?” You seethed. You were eyeing your holster belt that was only a couple feet away that held your knife.
“You know what I want baby.” His voice was low and hungry, now pressing himself against your back. As if you weren’t tense before, you were stiff as a door now. He moved the gun to press to the side of your head, grabbing your hip hard. Your winced in pain at the feeling of his fingers digging into your hip, but he had other plans than just that. He grabbed you by the back of your neck and slammed your body down onto the counter, making you bend over it as sharp groan leaving your lips.
This was happening. This was really happening. The sudden realization of the situation you were in made a wave of fear come crashing over you. All the jokes, the comments, the stares… This is what he was thinking about? Forcing himself on you over the counter?
No. This can’t happen, you weren’t gonna let this happen. Merle was ripping off your shirt when you came to your senses. This was enough for you to throw your head backwards and into his mouth, making him holler in pain. To your surprise, he even dropped the gun.
You stood up and wasted no time, you didn’t even look at him, you just bolted. You ran towards the door, but couldn’t even twist the handle before you were ripped away from it. You screamed in protest, but your vocal cords gave out when you felt a hard hit to your head.
You were pulled to your feet by your hair before being punched in the face again, immediately falling back down to the floor. You cried out in pain, kicking and screaming, refusing to go down without a fight.
“Go to hell!” You scream, spitting a large wad of saliva into Merle’s eyes. He jerked back and let you go, dropping you so he could wipe his eyes. You scrambled to your feet, but tripped over his large boot that he stuck out in front of you. Your body hit the floor hard and you landed on your already injured hand, causing a scream to ripple through your throat. You were silenced by a kick to the stomach, your eyes widening as the wind was knocked out of you, sending you into a coughing fit.
Having had enough of your resisting, Merle knelt down between your legs, flipping you on your back as he pulls you closer by your legs. You cry and try to fight back, but the harsh blows you endured did a number on your body.
Merle had his hands on the zipper of your jeans when the front door opened and shut. Both of your heads snapped to the doorway the same time Daryl looked up to see what was taking place.
Your face was bloody, your lip busted and your forehead gashed. You looked like you had been crying as you wheezed, still fighting for air. Your shirt was nowhere to be seen and your stomach was red, looking abused. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t say anything, your eyes said enough as they pleaded for help.
When Daryl finally laid his eyes upon his big brother, he was blinded with rage. All the color drained from his surroundings as all he saw was red. Merle didn’t look sorry, or guilty, or ashamed of what he was attempting to do- only disappointed that he didn’t finish the job.
Daryl didn’t utter a word as he took 3 big strides and rocked his fist into Merle’s jaw. There was so much force behind the punch that it made your body jerk.
Merle was pleading with his little brother, but Daryl didn’t care. No one lays a hand on his woman, no one lays their hand on you, and lives to see the next day.
Even through the tears in your eyes, you could see the blood bath Daryl was making of Merle’s face. With every colliding notion of Daryl’s fist to his brother’s face, Daryl would grunt, but never uttered a word. He never threatened Merle, never asked why, he simply wanted him dead.
And Daryl did just that. Daryl beat Merle until Merle stopped pleading, moving, and breathing. You looked on as Daryl stood over his dead brother’s body.
At the realization that Merle was dead, you finally broke. Your body shook in sobs and you covered your chest with your arms, holding yourself as you cried. The love of your life just killed his brother- and you felt guilty.
“Shit, Y/N-“ Daryl bolted over to you, kneeling down to your level. He pulled your body into his lap, holding you close.
“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry Daryl.” You choked out, avoiding the lifeless body on the floor just a few feet away.
“Yer sorry?” Daryl questioned, “Y/N, he was hurtin’ ya.”
“He was your brother-“
“I don’t give a damn.” Daryl said sternly. You grew quiet at his words. Daryl gently cupped your face in his hands, making you look him in the eye.
“Yer the only one I care ‘bout. He had it comin’.”
Daryl reassuring words left your mind at ease, but, you were still shaken up. You and Daryl sat there for god only knows how long as you held onto him and cried. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear and held you tight. He promised himself to never let you go.
~
#the walking dead daryl#Daryl Dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon protective#daryl Dixon is daddy#the walking dead imagines#daryl dixon fanfiction#Merle is an ass#merledixon#twd#the walking dead
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Blorbo thought of the day #1
More: Steven Grant x GN! reader
Author’s note: Wanted to start doing a “Blorbo thought of the day” thing. Idea is that I will share a snippet of one of the many blorbo scenarios which pop into my head on the daily, but which I don’t have time to develop into a full fic. Sometimes it will be smut, sometimes fluff, sometimes angst, sometimes… a surprise? And I don’t mean literally every day, but whenever I can! This one turned into more of a smutty blurb, but I intend for others to be much shorter snippets, bits of dialogue, headcanons etc..
Who better to start with than Steven?
Steven is a gentle lover; until he isn’t. (In which you gag on Steven’s cock and it sends him FERAL.)
NSFW/18+ Minors interacting will be blocked.
Steven Grant is a gentle lover.
Until he isn’t.
You are on your knees for him as he stands in front of you. Hadn’t even managed to strip off his work clothes yet before you were stripping them for him. Undoing his belt, and peeling away his trousers and boxers. Pushing his back up against the thick wooden beam of his attic room and taking him eagerly into your mouth.
He’s soft. Careful. Always. Let’s you take the lead.
Tonight is no exception.
Steven rests his hand gingerly on the crown of your head as you suck him - nothing but a gentle, reassuring weight. His long eyelashes flutter as he flits his gaze over you; the angel -divine being- making him feel so good.
You didn’t care who came through the door, you’d said. Whether it was him or Marc or Jake - you were getting down on your knees. Had been thinking about it all day.
But you’d told him, when he walked through the door, that you’d been glad it was him.
He’s still not used to this. To being wanted. To how good your mouth feels wrapped around him. Being buried in you.
Steven is a gentle lover. Makes a point of it. Never wants to hurt you. Push you. Take anything you don��t want to give. Has never even considered getting rough with you.
But tonight, he can’t help but think about what it would be like… just to take a little more.
Maybe because he’s had a stressful day at the museum. Maybe because he’s been thinking about coming home to you all day too and relieving his frustrations.
Whatever the reason, Steven can’t help but think about it; because he knows that the others are rougher with you, sometimes. That they don’t treat you like you’re about to break - like he does.
What were the words he’d heard?
Jake: soft dom. Marc: service top. Him: vanilla, submissive.
And so, he can’t help but think about it, because if they’d arrived tonight instead of him, wouldn’t this all be different?
The thought of that, combined with the feel of your velvet lips and the welcoming, warm wet cave of your mouth makes Steven so hard he can see stars blur the edge of his vision. Makes him grow over eager as you work your pretty mouth on him, bucking his hips and driving his length enthusiastically home, deeper into the cave of you. His hand gripping the back of your head just a little tighter than usual in his desperation to come undone.
He didn’t mean to. Didn’t mean to translate this desire from out of his head into the real world. You didn’t expect it.
It takes you a little by surprise.
Enough, to make you gag on Steven’s cock, just for a second; until you are surging off of him, eyelashes wet as you blink away the instant, spiking surge of tears.
Steven means to say something. He really does. Feels awful. Means to say “sorry, love, I’m so sorry”.
To soothe you. To do something.
But he… doesn’t.
Because…. Fuck.
He liked it.
A lot.
To his great relief, you seem unphased too, your lips curling up into a little smile before you curl them once again around his girth.
You continue: still gentle, still soft. Still in control. Setting your own pace.
Except this time Steven is inwardly going feral.
The thought of you gagging on him again. The thought of you surging off of him because he’s too big. The noises you made. The feeling of your throat convulsing around his cock. Even the tears in your eyes and the thought that you want him so much you’ll try so valiantly to take him all.
He’s panting. It’s awoken something in him. He’s throwing his head back against the beam. Eyes are screwing shut. His teeth are biting into his lower lip. His fingers are curling into your hair and - oh God. It feels divinely good but he wants…
Oh God.
He wants to push you down on him until you heave with the swell of him and he’s resisting the urge and you’re sucking him so deep and he can’t take it because he wants -needs to- bury himself even deeper.
Needs more and he’s aching for it.
“-Steven,” you purr, looking up at him, lips plumped and glistening with spit and god. “If you don’t want to make me gag on you again, you can always just ask. I can tell you liked it.”
He opens his eyes. Looks down at you on your knees. His mouth dropped open in surprise, and his legs nervy and trembling. A wracked, disbelieving moan spools from his chest, his cock almost bursting at the thought of it. Of making you choke on him. “W-would you d-do that for me, love?”
Your eyes glint with mischief. With want. “Steven.” You kiss the swollen head of his cock, swirling your tongue around the contours of him until he twitches, nearly spilling himself right then. “I’d do anything for you.”
He releases a shaky breath.
Steven is a gentle lover; until he isn’t.
Until he fists his hand in your hair and drives you down on his shaft, losing all composure as he hears you, feels you, sees you gagging on his size, your hands pressed calmly to his bared thighs as he holds you there and you let him.
And, as he does you fold the flat of your tongue around him. Let him take you, fill you, fuck into the circle of you, your throat resisting; gagging on him.
Steven can’t take it.
Didn’t know he would like this. Never would have guessed.
But within moments, he is emitting a ragged moan. He is pulsing his hot release down your throat. Giving you everything, as you eagerly take it. Swallow him down, until he’s drained; empty. Your hands smoothing up and down his shuddering thighs. Your tongue cleaning every last drop of mess from him. Humming against his softening shaft.
“Was that good, baby?”
He thinks he might black out. Can’t speak.
Can’t speak; until he can. “Love. C-Can we do it again?”
Your mouth curls into a smile; before you wrap it all the way around him.
When it comes to you, Steven can never get enough. He always want more.
At the same time though, you’re more than enough for him.
You’re everything, and he’s so happy he was the one to walk through the door.
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